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[WP] "Well...that was a much bigger explosion than I intended."
| 3
|
[
"(This is part of a longer existing work, from a different point of view. A brief explanation may be found [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/FiveNightsAtFanfic/comments/385o1p/a_catgirl_at_freddys_crossover_soft/).)\n\nShit shit *shit!*\n\nYeah, great fucking plan this was. \"We don't want them to think something's up. You go in and man the cameras, I'll be in the car as backup.\" Never mind these rogue AIs or whatever the fuck they are will already *know* something's up because the new night security minion's a bloody catgirl! And who the hell makes security shutters out of handwavium-steel alloy? I know this is a dodgy bit of town but honestly...\n\nOkay, got the shaped charge, got the explosive Polyfilla stuff... Shitting hell that was gunfire! Work fast, work fast... Okay, done. Thank God whoever built this dump dropped about five grand on a security door and never thought to replace the original frame... Fire in the hole!\n\nBugger me that was loud.\n\nHey, where did the door...? Oh. Might've overdone it a bit.",
"*It was an ambush, but how?* \n\nVoldemort had no time to think about how he had been lured into the department of mystery's at the moment. The shockwaves, and jets of light were flying through the air and being reflected off of dark shields or simply sizzling out in mid air as they approached him. \n\nDumbledore was casting in all his fury, wielding his wand like a sword and causing earthquakes, tornado's of fire, and winds that tore tiles from the floor as they swept across the room. \n\nVoldemort was easily keeping Dumbledore at bay, using tactics rather then powerful magic. \n\nDumbledore raised his wand and a point of blue light started to form at the tip, so Voldemort levitated a chair off the floor transfigured it into mustard gas which he flung at Dumbledore and the man was forced to abandon his spell and preform a bubblehead charm. Just as the protective bubble around Albus's head had formed, the floor turned to ice under him and he slipped. \n\nVoldemort had a brief moment to pay some real attention to the other fools casting at him. \n\nAmelia Bones had managed to dance her way through the random curses he had been flinging in her direction, and she was close enough that Voldemort could see the fury in her eyes, *How amusing...* He thought. \n\n\"Avada Ke-\" Voldemort swiftly punched her straight across the jaw as she opened her mouth to cast the curse. Wizards and witches were somewhat resilient to physical blows, but one of the rings of power Voldemort was wearing made that a moot point. The old woman dropped to the floor unconscious. \n\nSnape was off to the side, the man had apparently decided to show his true colors and was now flinging everything he could think of at his former master, but it made no matter none of it even touched Voldemort. With a contemptuous wave of his wand Snape was thrown against a wall so hard that a large part of the ceiling collapsed down on top of him. \n\nDumbledore was up and at it again, shooting some type of orange electricity at Voldemort. The attack was easily evaded, however it was a distraction. An invisible Mad Eye Moody was sneaking up from Voldemort's side, holding a muggle pistol. \n\n*Ah I wondered when we were going to start using muggle tricks.* \n\nVoldemort didn't need some arcane magical eye to see all, so he deflected one of Dumbledore's bolts of electricity at Moody and the man was just able to dodge it and throw his gun away as Voldemort transfigured it into a hand grenade. \n\nVoldemort was growing concerned, more re enforcements were arriving on the scene faster then he could kill or disable them, and with Dumbledore and Moody going all out in anger on him the best solution was looking like escape. \n\n*I'll have to blast through the anti apparition wards...* Even he wasn't sure if he possessed the power to break Dumbledore's best wards in an instant as he needed to do. \n\nVoldemort swept his wand around his head in a wide arc, and every one of the 2 dozen witches and wizards that were standing around throwing curses at him were thrown from their feet and across the room like ragdolls, all except Dumbledore but even he faltered for a moment. \n\n\"Would you like to see how you really use muggle innovation?\" He laughed a high cruel laugh as he said it, he brandished his wand in front of him and preformed his transfiguration. 1 cubic millimetre of \"anti-matter\", the volume was so small that the transfiguration was instant, and the explosion massive. \n\n_______________________________________________ \n\nVoldemort was floating in the void of his Horcrux network. \n*Well, that was a much bigger explosion than I expected...* \nIn retrospect, it had been foolish to use muggle science in combat like that after only reading a brief passage in one of their texts. \n\n*Hopefully it doesn't take another 10 years for some fool to break the seals and free me once more...*"
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"1443990160",
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|
[WP] You somehow find yourself in a great relationship with Luck itself.
| 5
|
[
"\"You know why I love you.\" Luck ran her finger through my hair.\n\n\"Well, that's what I don't understand, I'm just a simple man. Why do you favor me?\" I just couldn't understand this lady in front of me. Lying beside on top of the tallest building in the world. She was a goddess. She was like a light, but not blinding. She stood up kissing me. Hot and cold at the same time. It tasted like sweet dust.\n\n\"Just be thankful love,\" she stared at me with those piercing eyes, ever changing like the cosmos. The sun began to set, orange and purple mixing on the horizon. Silhouettes of the city like a moving painting. \"Just be thankful for now.\"\n\n\"I just can't believe it.\" I met her when I tried to jump off a building. I wanted to end my life that day, but a helicopter somewhat caught me. A fucking helicopter. I didn't know how I did not got chopped up with its sharp propeller. \n\n\"Believe it, I told you I am luck.\" She kissed my lips again. \"Wanna try it?\"\n\n\"Will you save me?\" I should really trust her. She was right, she was Luck.\n\n\"Maybe.\" She held my hands and together we jumped off. \"You know, the thing with me is that I happen to be unpredictable and uncontrollable. Even I, Luck itself, doesn't know what will happen the moment we jumped off this building. I work or my power works sometimes, sometimes not.\"\n\n\"But why? No please you told me that I can trust you!\" We were now descending, already halfway down the building. The horizon's beautiful reflection being continuously cut by the windows. Faster. Faster. \"Luck, hey, why-\"\n\n\"Maybe you'll live. Maybe you will not. Can you always trust luck?\" She smiled at me while we fell down. Nearer. Nearer. \"In a second we will know.\"\n\n \n\n\"Luck, my love, how's that man who recently jumped off a building and was saved by a helicopter?\" Miss Fortune asked while plucking some clover leaves.\n\n\"That guy? Ugh, like the others,\" Luck kissed Miss Fortune. \"Beginner's luck.\"",
"He just went by L. Which I thought was kind of weird when I met him, but after getting to know him I threw those uncertainties out the window. So he wanted his name to be a letter, who was I to judge? \n\nOur relationship was great. It was like the whole world smiled down on us. Restaurants suddenly had last-minute openings, we always had a taxi when we needed one, and I always won when he bought my scratcher at the gas station. I fell totally, completely in love with him in far too little time.\n\nIt was a standard rule of mine not to sleep with anyone before a month had passed, but sometimes he would spend the night. We would sleep with his arms around my midsection, and I would cuddle into him and ask him how I was so lucky. His chuckle always brought a flush to my cheeks, and I would turn our bodies to kiss him while he ran his fingers through my hair.\n\nThen the night came. We went out to dinner - a fancy dinner for two at one of the nicest restaurants in town. He held my hand from across the table, looked into my eyes.\n\nThe question sat on my lips. He had been so secretive and sensitive about it before. But maybe now. Maybe now was the right time. With his hand in mine I asked, \"What does the L stand for?\"\n\nHe smiled a dazzling smile as the waitress came to tell us that our entire meal had been comped for reasons that didn't quite make sense - which happened a lot. \"I'll give you a hint,\" he said. \"My name rhymes with what we're doing tonight.\" \n\nI laughed. \"Hoping to get lucky?\"\n\n\"Nope,\" he said. \"You've already got me.\" "
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[
3,
3
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[
"1444054295",
"1444055491"
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|
[WP] You are a 5 year old child who has a power, whatever you write becomes reality.
| 3
|
[
"I hate the times my family takes my stuff. My teacher learned me to write but what I write made him not alive anymore, maybe I should have not learned the bad words, blood was everywhere in the Teacher's room and it seems my Mom is hiding me away from everyone now, no more trips to McDonald's from what it seems. On the way home she was crying, I was feeling better, the hurting was gone.\n\"Why, why, Chase\" Mommy's lips were shaking, it was weird, \"I can't fight for you anymore, you are hurting p-people, why d-did you, his neck came off. Oh my God\".\nI stared out the window waiting for the burgers, thought it was the best story yet, whatever, I can't wait for our Friday McDonald's. I saw the golden M, the fucking bitch drove past it.\n\nShe pulled my arms, I almost tripped out the car.\n\n\"S-stay the f-fuck in the room, p-please, I l-love you but, I forgot the burgers, I-I'll be back with them\", Mommy didn't sound like she was telling the truth, she was going to call the bad people.\n\nThe room was cold and I could hear the door click after it was closed, bitch locked it. I punched the door to get her attention. She was on the phone telling people where our house was, she promised she wouldn't call the men in black. I can't take playing with this stupid Elmo anymore, the writing takes away the hurting from my head I have nothing to do in here, the pain was getting bad and the Xbox was taken away when I tried writing things on the keyboard on screen, it worked, worked perfectly on my Dad. I remember I put a small piece of crayon in my little pocket in my pants, my Mommy is not going to like not having ears. ",
"*First time responding to a prompt, tell me what you guys think!*\n\n\n\n\"I'm so excited for Christmas! Santa is coming soon, and this year I'll be there to see him!\"\nI put the crayon down and folded up the paper, putting it in my pocket. Mommy was coming soon- the big hand was on the three and the little hand was on the two. I wanted to show her what I had written all by myself. \nThe familiar ring as the front door opened caught my attention. I turned to look- it was Mommy! Charging up, I threw my arms around her knees, and she took my hand. \"Hi sweetie! Ready to go home?\"\nAs we walked out of the daycare and into the cold December air, I remembered the paper. \"Mommy, look! Look what I wrote!\"\nShe took it gently and unfolded it. The moment she did, she jumped slightly, like she was surprised, but then she relaxed. \"Oh. Oh, ok. It's wonderful, dear! It's very nice to see you love writing so much.\"\nBursting with pride, I walked out to the car with her. Tomorrow was Saturday, too! This was such a great day!\n\n\nThe next day I woke up early. Mommy and Daddy were already in the kitchen. \"Good morning, sweetie! We made your favorite chocolate chip pancakes to surprise you!\"\nBefore I could respond, the doorbell rang. Daddy got out of his chair, saying \"Who could that be this early?\" I followed him to the door, curious myself. He opened the door to reveal a tall man in a black suit.\n\"Good morning.\" he said in a pleasant voice. \"I'm sorry to bother you so early, but may I speak with Lyra?\" Why did this man want ME?\nMy dad spoke up first. \"Who are you? What do you want with her?\" He sounded nervous. The man was sort of scary, with those pure black eyes of his.\n\"Apologies,\" said the stranger, \"I've had a lot of names, but you can call me Lucifer.\" He turned his head and noticed me hiding behind Daddy's leg. \"Ah, there you are!\" I retreated further behind Daddy- I didn't like this man.\nDaddy stepped further forward. \"Listen,\" he growled, \"I don't know who you think you are, but I'd like you to leave now.\"\n\"I meant no offence,\" the man said, \"I simply wanted to thank her for releasing me.\" He turned to look at me again. \"Young Lyra, you have a very special power. Anything you write becomes reality. I am very grateful and I would like to reward you later. However, I have some business to attend to, so if you will excuse me, I must be going.\"\nThe man turned into a flame and vanished. Daddy jumped back, yelling \"What the FUCK?\" What was that last word? He turned back to Mommy, who was watching from the hallway. \"Did you see that?\"\nMommy nodded slowly, then looked at me. \"Sweetie, that note you wrote yesterday? You spelled Santa's name wrong.\""
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3,
3
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"1444059722",
"1444071810"
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.
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[WP] In order to avoid death the human race swaps into a clone body every couple of decades, the only problem is with each clone the bodies change slightly
| 13
|
[
"Something had gotten bluer. *Again*.\nThis time it was his hair. Wesley stared into the mirror and grimaced, know it was his own fault, a folly of youth.\nNine swaps they had perfected hue customization. Well, they *thought* they had. He wanted eyes as blue as the sky on a summer day, so every time he smiled at someone they would see a smile with the promise of freedom and possiblity, he had thought.what he had gotten instead was an entire body that looked like some giant bucket of blue paint had been dumped on him. They \"fixed\" it in the next body, but the problem with making a clone of a clone was, cretain things stuck. It was different for every person, but anyone who experimented with manips ended up with leftovers of cat's eyes or custom birthmarks or some such minor annoyance. He had chosen to be blue. \"Totally a bad investment\" he thought. \"The new crocodile skin will turn out much better!\"\n\n(First attempt at one of these, constructive criticism requested)",
"Nervously, I stood in line at FreshBody's newest store. Admittedly, I was ecstatic about having completed the two year agreement for this body and being due for an upgrade, but that didn't mean I wasn't scared to make another poor choice in what to buy. Last time a fast talking, impressively dressed salesman sold me on the newest body on the market. I remember him explaining out all of its new features to me so quickly that I felt lost and stupid. To be honest the only things I had even comprehended was increased strength and agility, and the \"above average\" member attachment that it came with. Really though, this wasn't a bad body, except for these damn hands.. They sold me a males body with the hands of a child! I can't even count how many social interactions I've blundered because of my insecurities about them! An entire months paycheck went into this body! I could've came away with TWO of the older models had I taken my time and found one that I actually wanted. But no, I was swindled and sold the newest and most expensive one just because I couldn't keep my wits about me. But not this time. This time I would be ready. \n\n\"Hi there, my name's Tom and I'll be aiding you through the process of your body upgrade today!\" The young man smiled and reached out to shake my hand.\n\nOh no. Please God, no. I extended my arm and my dainty right hand was engulfed by the man's bear paw sized grasp. Time slowed to a fraction of normal speed as we shook. My moral hitting an all time low. \n\n\"Th..thank you, sir\" I mumbled. He was younger than me.. \n\n\"Let me tell you about our brand new model, the FBody type 6. It's actually the body I'm rocking right now...\" He continued to explain to me all of the features, but I heard none of them. The moment our hands grasped still playing over and over in my mind. I managed to snap back to reality after a few seconds.\n\n\"With our updated skeletal design we offer a range of hand and foot sizes as well, along with a brand new selection of nose structures.\"\n\n\"I'll take it!\" I nearly yelled. Finally, I'll be free of this self-conscious prison that I've been trapped in! Thank God, thank Allah, thank Tom! \n\nWe proceeded with the transaction after I had given him the measurements that I wanted, and he swiped my card. The amount popped up on the holo display, cringe worthy, but I didn't care. All of my problems would be solved with these new hands. I might even ask out the secretary in my building tonight! Today would be the first day of my new life. \n\nTom led me to the changing room where the procedure would take place. \n\n\"Should only take a minute. Just lay back and relax. When you wake up you'll have your brand new body!\" \n\nI sighed with relief and took my seat on the cushioned reclining operating chair. But just before I closed my eyes I saw something that wrenched the relief I had so far from my body that it felt like a gun shot to the stomach. \n\n\"My god.\" I whispered. \"Look at the size of his ears..\" \n\nMy mind raced as I tried to recall his conversation. I remembered a snippet of a sentence, something like, \"our new hearing modules have 3 times the distance capabilities of your current model.\" \n\nDear God. How could I have missed them! I was so concentrated on our handshake.. I've made a terrible mistake! \n\n\"Wait!\" I tried to yell, but the sedatives were kicking in. It was too late. \"I'm done for,\" I thought, as my vision faded along with my hopes of a better life. \n\nI awoke with a foul taste in my mouth and the sound of a baby crying in the showroom I had entered from. \n\n\n\n\n\n\nSorry if there are any grammatical errors. I tried to proofread but I'm doing this from mobile at work.",
"I read a book, a long time ago. \n\nTime passes differently to me now, but I know it had to be a few hundred years- perhaps longer because I remember that the book was solid, paper and weight in the place of a screen or graphic. I like to think that my mind can remember it clearly, but I know it's wrong; twisted and changed by the passage of time. A copy of a copy, written by hand.\n\n*\"We are like comets, bright and flashing across the sky, and our lives and memories are the trail behind them.\"*\n\nSomething like that, it went something like that. The words may have been different but the message is still unchanged, or I hope it is... So hard to tell for sure, a lot has changed and a lot has simply ceased to be. Books for example, it had been so long since one of those had not crumbled under my touch. From dust to dust, nothing lasts forever.\n\nPeople used to say they could remember their first lives, but I can't- not anymore. Guess that means I'm old, really old, but there is no one left to confirm that, or at least no one I know of. The world is empty of the life our minds brought forth, slowly receding beneath the growth of forests, trees and sand. The age of man and the ages that followed are being washed away like footprints to the waves, and the world does not care, completely indifferent to the loss that brings.\n\nFor a long time I wasn't alone, and I know that there had been someone else. I know that for truth, at the core of me- the only piece that really remains- I know it. There had been physical proof once, of ink and blood so I could never forget. That was back before the world changed though, before I changed.\n\nA curse of time, of change, of hundreds of lives lived; the name is gone from my mind. All I've got left is a feeling, the sensation you get when you believe something with no proof- Faith. They used to call that faith.\n\nI think I've been left behind for some reason. \n\nIt hurts, knowing I'm alone. \n\nThere is great sorrow in loneliness, pain in the unknown with no one else to talk to. The World around me is empty, filled with structures that house no one, care for nothing. I could wander the cities endlessly and find no one. Somehow, I know that for a fact.\n\nThe only exploration left for me to complete, then, by logic has to be inward. Perhaps this was the only exploration there ever was, but I'm not sure of so many things now and it's not... right. Like I made a choice long ago, and it was the wrong one.\n\nI think I was a coward. She was never a coward, not even when she was scared- but I was so afraid.\n\nI should have died then, but I ran instead. I moved to another body, and then another after. I kept running from the end, but there is no one else running but me now. The world is empty, and I am lonely and ashamed.\n\nThis body's arm is wrinkled and aged, no longer possessing the strength of youth and vigor. My lungs wheeze, my chest beats slow, and my eyes no longer hold focus upon the things I wish to see. My mind has fogged and lost what it was, and a part of me screams to do something- to go and be born anew, to take another body. It screams and screams, but I don't listen. I am tired of running, and I am lonely.\n\nMy arm itches like cold water was dropped upon the skin, and I trace the sensations with a single frail finger. Over and over again, I trace it until my arm will not lift, spelling out letters from a dead language. My friend, how I have missed you. \n\nToo see you again before my mind, \"myself\" is taken away, I will remember your face. As my heart beats slow, and my lungs fail to rise, let it be known that the choice was made of conscious effort. \n\nI was a coward not to face this with you then. I will see you again.",
"Upgrades! Verko hated upgrades. \n\nVerko Manakilus glared at the clone body he'd been loaded into. He was tired, he was exhausted and now he was staring at two extra arms. Why the hell would he want two more arms? He never asked for more arms. Two arms were good enough for his thirteen other bodies, they'd be good enough for this one too. \n\nDamn it all. \n\nVerko slammed two fists against the locked door and bellowed at the attending neurotrasportationist. He was not taking this body. He didn't want integrated night-vision or skin-tone modifiers. He didn't need auto-walk features or a GPS tracker installed inside his cranium. All he wanted was the standard human body. No scales, no cat ears, no extra joints in the fingers. \n\n\"IN MY DAY THERE WERE NO GENE MODS!\" He screamed through the door, \"I HAD TO WEAR GLASSES TO SEE. YOU HEAR ME? GLASSES!\"\n\nVerko gave up pounding on the door, crossed both sets of arms and began pacing back and forth in the tiny room. He glared back at the sealed aperture with the practiced malice of someone who'd had a thousand years of life to perfect it.\n\n\"AND I LIKED IT!\""
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1,
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[
"1444152840",
"1444151318",
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[WP] She never spoke. She never made a sound, but the look in her eyes told me exactly what was going to happen.
| 19
|
[
"She never spoke, she never made a sound. She did show me something, something that would make most kill themselves. Her eyes said it all, a silent voice rang through my mind. It told me to follow her, follow her to some place more discrete. I pushed my way through the crowded bar, trying to not lose her from my sight. She eventually got to the exit and pushed it open. I ran out the door and looked to the left, nothing. I looked to the right. There was nothing. I turned around to head back in and there stood a figure blocking the door. A tall cloaked figure, it let down its hood and gasped \"look into my eyes.\" I didn't know it would happen so soon. Why trust me with this information? I had so many questions but once the figure shared the prophecy, they vanished. How am I supposed to warn everyone about the bombs dropping in less than 10 hours?",
"My heart was rapidly beating: a mixture of fear and hopeful anticipation... perhaps even a feeling of love. There was tingling all over my body and I wasn't sure what I was seeing. My limbs began twitching. Was this it?\n\nIt was like a whirlwind whipped across me when I saw *her*. So many different sensations. Could anyone else witness this vision of beauty? I thought I could hear a faint song. We locked eyes and a coolness pumped through my body. \n\nThe light was so... peaceful. It increased in brightness behind *her*. I briefly looked over at the hospice nurse who had what seemed like a knowing smile. I returned my gaze to *her*. \n\nI couldn't hear the beeping of the medical machine anymore. The angelic chords grew louder. The light exploded with brightness. This was it.",
"The creasing around her eyes was sharp with shadows. They cut into her skin against the harsh, humming brightness. \n\nHer face was close to mine, and I gazed back, unable to turn, left only to surrender to her. Her head tilted slightly. With her hand against my chest, she leaned in. Her eyes curved down my cheeks, eased across my lips, and drew back again to my own. I held still, unmoving, although I wished I could. \n\nHer hand held me down, not constricting, but without the tenderness it once had. Her chin moved slowly. Nodding to herself. A last confirmation. Her lips were dry on my forehead. I couldn't see her anymore. She was too close and the light was shuttered behind her. I wished for one last moment to see her, but my breath was already gone. The rhythmic beat of the machine was finally silent and with it, so was I.",
"She moved elegantly between the four of us, with maybe a little touch, or a smile, at some point i even saw tears in her eyes. It was quiet, and the setting of the sun made the scene look surreal. She was dressed in white, and in the beginning it seemed weird and inappropriate, but in the end it was just another dress, it didn’t really matter.\n\nI watched at she was coming towards me, smiling, and couldn’t think of anything to say. I wasn’t prepared for this, and really didn’t wanted to be here in the first place. Dan brought us all, but now we were all on our own. \n\nI just smiled back. She was beautiful, and it was a breathtaking beauty, as she came close. A beauty that made you forget, and forgive. It’ didn’t matter anymore. It was Dan’s fault, he was the one driving and he fell asleep, but it wasn't, really. \n\nI felt the soft touch of her hand trough my hair. She never spoke. She never made a sound, but the look in her eyes told me exactly what was going to happen. I never thought Death would be beautiful. ",
"It was suppose to be a lazy Saturday - my pick-up game was cancelled on the account of rain, but that was last night. The clouds broke up and the sun came shining thru the curtains this morning. If that cell rings, I ain't answering it, because it's either my teammates or work, and I'm not about to do either.\n\nMy mind just started swimming of the day's possibilities - things I wanted to do but never had the time - that was the feeling... I felt like I was given the gift of time.\n\nUntil she rounded the corner and faced me. She hesitated for just a moment when she saw me, laying there, awake.\n\nShe walked towards me, swiftly, confidently. She showed me her tongue, and she was not afraid to use it. I smiled to myself. She never made a sound, but I knew what was going to happen. She jumped on the bed and smothered me with kisses from that big wet tongue. \n\nI love this dog! "
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4
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[
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[WP] Major prison sentences have become a choice between two pills. One just kills you. The other, well no one knows what that one does...
| 113
|
[
"There was a cry, young, wet, almost broken. \n\nCharles Allen Johnson had chosen the *second pill.* \n\n\"First to the grave, second to the slave!\" \n\nNo one knew what it meant, or how the saying came to be. But it meant something far older than the hallways of Pixie Island Penitentiary. \n\nSome people called it Red Pill, Blue Pill. It was a Matrix joke. Old, but good enough for the soulless, sucking days they were locked in this world. \n\nEveryone talked about the *blue pill* eagerly. They would take it and see what it meant. \n\nBut the moment they were given the Talk, they always chose the first. They were given a last meal, allowed to Vid their family, and pass away like a good man. They got a burial. They had their names written in the hall of bad choices, but at least they were now free. \n\nBut the second pill? \n\nChuck talked about it a lot. \"What happens? What does it do? Maybe it does nothing and we get to be free.\"\n\nHe was obsessed with seeing his daughter again. Sammy had chosen to strip him of even the title father. She had the right to Banish him from all official forms. As far back as her birth certificate, another family member agreeing to step is as 'honorary paternal figure.' \n\n'Father Unknown, Godfather: James Erickson.' \n\nWhen Chuck got that letter he broke. That was the reason behind his choice. \n\nBut the rest of the inmates weren't so certain he made the right one. \n\nAll they knew was Chuck never got wheeled out. A woman with bright purple hair walked through the double doors and carried out a red face, pig child. It was large, terribly shaped, and screaming murder. \n\nThen they were led out of their cells, to the tip of Pixie Point. There Purple said to them, \"This is what the selfish choice does. This is what the selfish soul becomes.\" \n\nShe set the *pig-child* down and lifted a small, silver hammer. They were instructed not to move, to stay silent. No one must run. No one must make even the slightest gesture of war. \n\nShe brought the hammer down on his head, twice, thrice, and then she stepped into a small circle, ringed in chain. \n\nThey heard the first scratchings. Then out of the woods came a deformed humanoid, hair ripped from its body so the scabs and innards showed. \n\nIt tore across the clearing, its voice raspy. It took the silent child, perhaps still alive, and devoured it hole. \n\nThen it went back into the woods. \n\n\"Back to your cells,\" Purple said.\n\nNo one picked the second pill.",
"I pondered my possibilities. In all my life, I was never a person to take risks. For me, knowing for sure that something bad will happen beats not knowing at all what would happen. \n\n\nI decided to take the death pill. A painless death, they said. You would feel an icy yet calming sensation in your feet that would gradually move up your body, eventually reaching your brain and rendering you legally dead. The whole process took no longer than an hour.\n\n\nLeaning over the two boxes, I stared at the two pills. \n\n\n\"So,\" I said, trying to sound casual. \"Which one is the death pill?\"\n\n\nThe man looked at me gravely. \"The left one,\" he said.\n\n\nI took a deep breath and plucked the small white pill from the box. With a trembling hand, I brought the pill up to my lips, and hesitated.\n\n\n*You deserved this,* I told myself. *Just get it over with. All your fears will be over within the hour.*\n\nI closed my eyes, quickly popped the pill into my mouth, and swallowed it. \n\nThe guard cleared his throat. \"Ah...\"\n\nI was struck with a sudden intuition that something was wrong. Immediately, I opened my eyes and looked at him. \"What?\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" he said. \"Sometimes I get my lefts and rights mixed up.\"",
"\"We find the defendant guilty of crimes against the state.\" The juror recites this line as if he is telling me my lunch order is ready, or that he has managed to roll his 401k over. He must know surely what he has said, and the meaning those words say to my fate? I can't argue with the decision, it is just I wonder as I stare at him, nodding to whatever the judge is saying, does he know the penalty crimes against the state hold? Death by choice. When you are convicted of a crime that carries the death penalty you have two options, the yellow or the green pill. The yellow pill is death, instantaneous and without much fan fare. The green pill is left to the imagination. Nobody knows what this pill does or who exactly chooses it. All the public knows is that when the yellow pill is taken, which is most of the time, the person is given a proper funeral. The green pill has no funeral, with family and ex girlfriends trying to out grieve the other. The judge turns to me and the juror sits down. I don't look exactly at the judge but rather at the state seal below him. I don't really care what he has to say, I already know which pill I will choose. \n\nI have thought long and hard on which pill I will take if I am ever caught. I am apart of the revolution, trying to uproot the oppression and tyranny of the state. I have served this noble cause for 6 years, since I was 17, and took a vow. The vow was that if you are ever caught and charged with crimes against the state you will take the green pill. This is because we are not like other criminals and don't want a funeral like everyone else. It is our last chance to laugh at the face of the state and say can we have more. I await my moment to tell the judge how I will decide my own fate. He continues to blabber about my crime and how he doesn't understand that we can't assimilate like everyone else to the state's wishes. I spit on the ground between my legs at this despicable shill for our overlords. \n\n\"Very well, I see you are ready to make your decision. By the powers of the state invested to me I give you the final decision on what life will be. Will it be the yellow pill signifying your end, or the green pill signifying the states end of responsibility to you?\" The words I have waited to hear for 6 long years are finally upon me. I rise out of my seat and make sure to stare the judge directly in the eye.\n\n\"I have forever been against the state and their treacherous ways. Now I will not decide to take the easy way, I will forge my own way and take my chances with the green pill. I finally will be a free man and away from the fingers of the state. Green I say, Green.\" The words have never felt better coming out of my mouth and through my mind. I have repeated them over and over again. \n\n\"Let the court take not of the defendant's decision. The state is now not responsible for what happens here on. Good luck in whatever happens after consumption.\" I am quickly whisked away from the courtroom, there is nobody there to say goodbye to. My family all passed away years ago, and the remaining members of the revolution are not foolish enough to reveal themselves. I am quickly taken to a basement were a car is waiting. I feel a slight pinch in my neck and the world fades away.\n\nI awake to the sun beating down on me. Seemingly trying to blind me with its brightness. I groan and turn my head away and feel what I am laying on with my palms. It is sand. I quickly pop up and look at surroundings. I am in between two plateaus, there is saguaros as far as the eye can see. I can hear vultures flying above me. I am in the middle of the desert. I start grabbing at my clothing pockets. In one of the pockets I can a package of some kind. I take the package out of my shirt pocket and see the green pill. On the ground next to me is a Arrowhead bottle of water. So this is what the green pill means death in the desert? Isolation? What are they trying to do, I haven't even taken the pill yet. I say fuck it, tilt my head back pop the pill and take a swish of water. I lie back down and wait for something.\n\nAs soon as my head touches the desert sand the world around me changes. The sky goes from blue to a blood red. The sand around me starts to bubble like boiling water. I see the vultures turn into demons with wings. I start hearing screaming people all around me. They are all seemingly in a great deal of pain, like they are getting tortured. Suddenly all the saguaros and rocks are on fire. I then hear something much scarier than tortured screams. I turn around and look at which seems to be the biggest demon of them all. He has hooves for feet, his skin is black, his stomach bulges out. I keep spanning towards his head which is the worst part about him. He doesn't have eyes as much as black pings where his eyeballs should be. He has horns pointing in different directions. He starts coming towards me, I turn and run. I go around the first plateau trying to find a place to hide. The demon all of the sudden comes out of nowhere. He reaches down and grabs me in one full swoop. I am rising above the fiery landscape, he pulls me to what should be his eyes. I am screaming the whole time as he bites down on torso and eats my head whole.\n\nI awake in what feels like a cell. I can remember nothing of my name, or my past. All I can remember is the demon dream. The desert of hell and being eaten alive. I hear a knock at the door of which I guess is my cell. I still have no idea why I am here or what my purpose is being here. An old man with a balding head with grey sprouting out the sides. He is wearing a grey uniform of some kind. I can't really tell what this uniform represents or who. The grey man takes the chair across from my bed and sits down. After staring at me for what feels like years he finally speaks.\n\n\"I am the leader of the revolution, you have been recruited to take down the state. Will you join us?\"",
"Two guards escorted me into a small room, lighting askew and chairs dimly placed. A man with white suspenders and a white hat sat across from me. His hands were folded in an elegant manner, the type of way a wealthy person would greet a peasant in a handshake. A small oak box laid in the middle of the table no bigger than a paperback copy of Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. The man's stare had meaning; not superficial meaning such as that of an actor, but true meaning. The man stared at me with intent. Intent to know. An intent to investigate. From what I could discern, this man was a detective.\n\n\"The handcuffs were to your specifications, Mr. Singer?\" The guards removed my bindings. The man in white spoke in rhythmic tones, a soothing and sharp crescendo of vowels and consonants. I certainly wasn't his first customer who requested a specific adjustment to my shackles. It wasn't my fault I was born with weak wrists. Or perhaps maybe it was.\n\n\"A bit restrictive,\" I rolled my wrists in a slow motion, \"but so is my budget.\" I set my hands on the table, mirroring the man in white's divinity. \n\n\"And you kept your budget close to your wallet, such as handcuffs, yes?\" The man in white pulled a thick manila file from his briefcase set on his left. The briefcase had a five digit combination lock with letters, as opposed to traditional numbers, to secure the case. It started with 'A' but I could not read the other four. The man in white thumbed through the folder, licking his thumb between pages.\n\n\"I've already been interrogated enough. Forgive my rude demeanor, but I'm not here to answer your questions, I'm here to receive punishment.\" I stretched my neck. I hoped my punishment would be a nice warm bed to sleep on. The slabs I rested on these past few years have certainly taken their toll.\n\n\"Who said anything of punishment? Certainly you can agree this is merely another chapter to be written in the book of Gary Singer.\" The man in white closed the manila folder with a smile. My name was written in the tab.\n\n\"Another chapter, ha. If my life were a book I would burn it for eternity for its drivel and lack of conflict. I've made my mistakes, but none certainly greater than the lack of risks that have passed me by.\" I sat forward, crossing my fingers.\n\n\"I take it you're not a gambling man.\" The man in white lightly caressed the oak box, drawing attention away from his gaze. He failed to entice me.\n\n\"I tend to stay away from games in which I am not favored.\" I stared into the man's shoulder, admiring the quality of his shirt.\n\n\"Good! Then your choice has already been made for you,\" The man opened the box, revealing a thick velvet the color of pure ivory lacing the inside of the vestibule. Two pills laid bare on a raised platform in the middle, identical in size and color. I assumed this was the choice that has been made for me. \n\n\"And what choice would that be?\" My brow furrowed. \n\n\"I'm not here to answer questions, Mr. Singer, I'm here to deal punishment,\" the man in white smirked in jest. I sat back annoyed.\n\n\"Let's not play games. Why is it that I am here? What do you have for me?\"\n\n\"I have nothing for you, except a choice. I have been sent to deliver a message. And you know why you are here.\"\n\n\"And what is this message? Your ambiguity is unappreciated.\" I crossed my arms and hoped to die was the truth of the matter. Living in solitude was not an issue. Being confined in a small room was not an issue. The issue was a lack of choice, of freedom and control. I no longer held the strings, and the marionette had been passed around so many times between the Federal Government and the very privatized prisons I once governed that I thought about grabbing both pills and shoving them down this man's throat so I could feel once again what is was like to be in a position of authority. The man in white stood up, and began pacing around the table.\n\n\"My message, Mr. Singer, is meant to be vague. Throughout life we are presented opportunities. Opportunities to grow, to invest, to escape. Yet we are unable to see the outcome of these opportunities at the time they flourish, so we are merely asked to make a decision and project the outcome based on our choice,\" The man in white stood behind me, his hand met my shoulder. I stiffened my posture. \"You Mr. Singer, in your words, have failed to take risks in your life. I would argue that there are no risks, merely opportunities refused in favor of a more desirable outcome.\" \n\nI glanced up at the man in white. \"So what? These pills are a representation of how I'm to end my life?\"\n\n\"Or begin it,\" the man leaned against the table to face me, \"it's your choice.\"\n\n\"Begin it in what sense? It sends me into a hallucinogenic coma while I suffer on life support for my remaining days?\" This man was easy to read.\n\n\"Could be.\"\n\n\"Or perhaps it creates some sort of disease, such as Alzheimer's, or Dementia, and I'm to be sent to the psych ward for further processing,\" I half pried to receive an answer. Not that it would change my decision. I had made up my mind. \n\n\"This is what you've been so good at over the years, Gary, analyzing the outcome of decisions and going with the most definite,\" the man in white glanced at the box, \"so here's the definite. The pill on the left will kill you. You will die in peace, and live the rest of your days in a coffin six feet under. You will sacrifice your memories and in return be granted a stable state of rest. Your life will no longer live on, all that remains will be your legacy. That, is the definite.\"\n\nMy legacy had been destroyed by the prosecuting attorney when he presented the final piece of planted evidence that put me here. No one would remember cautious, intelligent, millionaire Gary Singer, no. The general populace merely knows only embezzling, fractured, prisoner Gary Singer. The thought disgusted me. I picked up the pill on the left, rolling it between my fingers. \"And the pill on the right?\"\n\n\"You're a predictable man, Mr. Singer, you won't choose the pill on the right.\"\n\n\"You said it yourself, I weigh decisions based on the lesser of two evils. I can't hold up to your predictable reputation if I do not know each evil.\" I licked the pill in my hand. It tasted like salt. \n\n\"Some say, the pill on the right is life's re-do button. Others say it's a prolonged death sentence.\" The man in white spoke with a factual tone, as if each of these scenarios were possible and he held no favor toward which was more correct. I placed the pill in my hand back in the box.\n\n\"And what do you say.\"\n\n\"I say life is what you make of it,\" the man in white lifted his thigh onto the table, grabbed the pill on the right and placed the pill in my palm, \"it isn't every day you get a second chance.\" \n\nI stared into my hand. I remembered the days of old when I ate lobster with a hefty side of liquid butter. Cliché, I know, but all my life I was cliché. Born into a rich family, living a lavish lifestyle through my teens and twenties, attending merger meetings in my early thirties, and acquiring enough assets in my forties to buy all the hungry children in the world a three course meal every day for the remainder of their years. I couldn't imagine a more gifted life. Or a more boring one.\n\n\"I'm not one to seek second chances,\" I popped the pill into my mouth, savoring the succulence of South African Lobster tail with a hefty side of liquid butter, \"but I'm sick of being predictable.\" I swallowed.\n\nRolling up his sleeves, the man in white rose from the table, \"it's rare that you surprise me, Gary Singer, but I do admit this is one of those times.\" the man in white jockeyed his suspenders from his shoulders as he grabbed the manila file with my name on the tab and slid it back into his briefcase. He closed the small oak box, and slid his chair into the table. He eyed me up and down, his posture ready to leave. I stayed seated.\n\n\"Before you go, I have to ask,\" I sat back arms crossed, \"who are you?\" A tingling sensation coursed itself through my limbs, to my chest, and finally my neck and skull.\n\n\"As I said before. I am a messenger.\" The man in white, now with a much more casual demeanor, tapped the locking mechanism on his briefcase. The letters had been scrambled into nonsense. My vision was starting to become blurry, a darkness circling my line of sight and closing in at a slow, breathing pace.\n\n\"Well, yes,\" words were becoming harder to pronounce efficiently, \"but for whom?\"\n\n\"You know for whom,\" the man in white walked toward the door. Before exiting, he turned one last time to face me. \"Goodbye Mr. Singer. I look forward to speaking with you again. Good luck on your journey.\" \n\n\"I don't believe in l-lu-lu-\" my face began feeling as if it were melting, \"luck.\" My memories were fading, and I couldn't place where I was or why I was there. I felt an immense sense of dread, my hands shook, and my legs were paralyzed.\n\n\"Nor do I, Gary. It's just one of those laws that seems to only matter when it's not on your side.\" The man in white exited. I couldn't hear the door close.",
"\"I'm here with Walter Burroughs, who has agreed to give us this exclusive interview talking about how he went from billionaire, celebrity hedge fund manager to convicted felon and then to global philanthropist.\" The reporter turned toward me and continued, \"What made you finally decide to talk about your extraordinary fall from grace and your long journey of redemption?\"\n\nI had prepared for so long for this day, yet I hesitated. I collected my senses and began, \"As of today, I've finally reached my goal. I've helped put roofs over the heads of one million families who would otherwise have lost their homes. I've helped put ten million children through college. I've actually asked you here to announce my retirement.\"\n\n\"You're retiring?\"\n\n\"Yes, you see, I actually couldn't stop until now.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What do you mean by that?\"\n\n\"Do you remember the 'Ultimate Choice' program from back when I was in prison?\"\n\n\"Yes. That was the program by which major prison sentences were commuted to the choice between a lethal pill and a non-lethal pill. As I recall, that program was eventually cancelled. You were the only prisoner to actually choose the non-lethal pill and retain his sanity. You've never spoken about your experiences. Is this finally the time?\"\n\nI took a deep breath. I was reminded myself that I was prepared. \"Yes. You see, when you take the non-lethal pill, you sign a non-disclosure agreement about what it does. That agreement expires when you finish your sentence.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Now, the reason I didn't go insane was that I was the only one to be able to figure out a way to finish my sentence. When I took the pill, I was immediately overwhelmed with guilt for what I had done. I'm not sure exactly how it works, but I suspect it has to do with stimulating a person's sense of empathy. Anyway, the others who tried the pill couldn't handle the guilt. This is quite understandable, as they were mostly murderers, rapists, and such. How do you live with that type of guilt? You can't make up for taking a person's life. I, on the other hand, had only committed financial crimes. After all, I was the first person to scam over one hundred billion dollars from my victims.\n\n\"After I took the pill, I was released from prison. The public was outraged that I got out of prison with no apparent consequences. I had caused countless people to lose their homes. I had caused countless people to go bankrupt.\" I fought to keep my voice steady. \"I had ruined so many lives. I deserved it.\"\n\nI paused to collect myself for a moment. \"This nearly destroyed me. The only thing that kept me sane was that I had a plan.\"\n\n(I'll try to finish this later)",
"Cockroaches scurried along the grotesque linoleum floor of the cafeteria, and took refuge inside trash that had piled over from neglect. Walls were smeared with filth in a mixture of unappealing colors -- brown being the most dominant -- and a horrendous stench of urine, and musk lingered inside the unventilated dining hall of the penitentiary. Horus staggered in traipse, and clasped his unsanitary, food encrusted tray to his chest as a child would a stuffed animal. This was a mistake. He was innocent, of course. But then again, his word had just as much value as any of the inmates here.\n\nHorus gawked at the rows upon rows of cantankerous inmates that were huddled like sardines at the wonky, rectangle foldout tables while in queue for his supper. There was something *different* about this place, but he wasn't quite sure *what* that difference was. \n\n\"Next!\" A hoarse voice croaked from behind the plexiglass sneeze guard. Horus gazed into no mans land as he daydreamed about the nightmarish dreamscape of the cafeteria. \n\n\"I said-\" *The short, stubby man wheezed a harsh, hacking cough while phlegm drooled out of his stoma* \"...next!\" And the mesh hair net on his bald, mole infested head fell into the food when he hunched over. \"Ain't got-\" *wheeze* \"-all day!\"\n\nHorus snapped out of his daze, and fumbled to the buffet line in front of him. He fixed his eyes on the chunky, amorphous gloop inside the rusted steel drum. Whatever it was, it was served by the ladle, and flies loved it.\n\n\"W...what is it?\" he asked, timid and irresolute.\n\nAn inmate behind Horus grew impatient, and tapped his foot in restlessness against a sticky spot on the floor -- *shlick, shlick, shlick, shlick* -- then harrumphed when Horus glanced over.\n\nThe cafeteria server rolled his eyes, and replied, \"It's food,\" before he slopped it onto Horus's tray. He had never been in prison before, and didn't know what to expect. \n\n*Was this traditional prison-style food? Is this what they always ate?* He thought to himself. \n\nWhen he exited the line and looked for a place to sit, he gulped his confidence into his empty stomach that grumbled louder than his fearful heartbeats.\n\n\"Psst. Hey, *kid!*\" a voice whispered. \"Psst. Over here. Hey!\"\n\nHorus scanned the area around him to see who addressed him, and locked eyes with every inmate until he saw a man with a chiseled jaw and eye patch flag him down. Dissuaded, and unsure about making an acquaintance on the first day, Horus crept over to the uncanny man, and stood next to the only vacant spot available.\n\n\"What do you want?\" Horus asked.\n\n\"You fucked up, *kid*,\" the man whispered, and emitted a sinister chuckle. \n\n\"Where am I? This doesn't look like county.\"\n\nThe man's chuckle turned to spontaneous laughter with no attempt to hold it back.\n\n\"You don't remember, do you?\" he asked.\n\n\"No. I can't remember anything.\" Horus lowered his arms, and slid the tray of food onto the wobbly table before seating himself. \"What happened? Where did they transfer me to if this isn't county?\"\n\n\"You took life over death, *kid*, and now you're *here*.\" The man rolled his shoulders and slurped the last helpful of slop from his jagged, chipped spoon. \"The inmates call this place *'The Minotaur's Asylum'*.\"\n\n\"Mino..wh- what?\"\n\n \"Don't worry, *kid*. Everyone here wishes they took the easy way out. And soon... *you will too.*\"\n\n* * *\n\nI can continue this if people are interested.\n\n* * *\n\nYou can find more of my stories over at /r/EdenRenellaJones. Thanks for reading!\n\n\n\n\n\n ",
"“Effectively as of October 12, 2015, all prisoners in the United States of America incarcerated for severe acts of violence, fraud, or other major crimes will be mandated to take the Pill Proposition” read the sign upon entering the police station.\n\nI was arrested as an accessory for drug trafficking and murder of opposing traffickers. My partner, found immediately guilty was directly sent to prison, while I wait on my court order. A few days later, I was found innocent, while my partner would face the new “Pill Proposition”. I’ve read this new proposition makes the prisoner choose from taking one of two pills, Black and White. The Black pill is death. Simply put, it relaxes the body into unconsciousness while all major organs shut down. A simple, clean, fast death. The effects of the White pill, however, is unknown. Straight from the laboratories of an unknown location, the pill itself has a dark, mysterious aura to it.\n\nIt’s been two months since the Pill Proposition, and not one prisoner across the nation has chosen the White pill. Is it really that daunting? Video coverage show the Black pill served in a regular plastic container with water, while the white pill is served in a preserved cryogenic state and only delivered in a solitaire airtight chamber.\n\nOne day I receive a phone call from Oxfield Prison, the same one my partner is in. He says he’s next in line to receive the proposition, and mentions he will go for the White pill. The following morning every major news channel flocked to the prison to record the event. The prison’s warden and scientists allow for the news people to enter, to record the effects of the enigmatic White pill. Upon entering the chamber, we see two scientists in biohazard suits carefully handling a white canister with extended clamps. A button is pressed, opening the canister in a flurry of smoke. The chamber soon drops in temperature as the smoke clears and reveals the White pill. The test subject, my partner, enters the chamber and is given latex gloves and a glass of water. He applies the gloves ever so carefully, making sure he does not tear the delicate fabric, unknown of what direct contact to the pill does to the skin. As he lifts the pill and moves it towards his mouth, he suddenly freezes. Panic and fear can be seen in his eyes. His muscles clenched and his breathing begins to accelerate. Adrenaline rushes through his body as goosebumps rush throughout his body. After what seemed an eternity, he rapidly consumes the pill and downs the glass of water. Cameras flash, newsmen and women fight for a shot of the unfolding event.\n\nA scientist, asks over a microphone if the prisoner feels anything. He turns to the camera, and says, “I feel indifferent. My mind and physical self feel unchange-”. His eyes begin to rapidly dilate, his breathing changes from slow, light breaths to rapid and heavy breaths. His movement is erratic. He then slowly approaches the glass windows and faces the audience.\n\nHe lightly whispers, “Life is such a chore. Your days are limited, unable to see what lies beyond the core of reality. Unlock the door. Call for what lies beyond. Be careful to not wake the wrong door\".\n\nImmediately after, the prisoner begins to shake and rattle, he grows to a monstrous height, his skin changes from a once caucasian-like tone to a dark green. His arms shrink, legs grow and his tailbone extends in length and face elongates to a carnivorous monster. His once human appearance has changed to one out of science fiction. The roof collapses under his enormous height. Once his transformation is complete it is completely visible it is time to get on the floor and walk the dinosaur.\n\nEdit: Formatting, first time posting here too, enjoy!",
"I stood before this... a regular prison guard is what he was, I'd somehow expected something more. He looked tired, apparently mine was the 12th execution today.\n\n\"So, what's it gonna be? The one that kills ya...\" He opened his right hand, revealing a small red pill. \"...or the one that, well...\"\n\n\"How do we not know what that one does?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nobody has picked it so far, so we don't know.\" He shrugged, appearing just as clueless as myself.\n\n*What have I got to lose?*, I thought to myself, *The other option is death... what could possibly be worse than that?*\n\n\"I'll take the second one.\" I declared.\n\n\"Are you sure?\" Asked the guard. He was legally obligated to do so, to give people a chance to change their mind.\n\nI hesitated. The thought of the unknown wasn't a comfortable one. I quickly reminded myself that the only other option was death. \"I am sure.\"\n\nHe handed me the pill, his collegue offering me a glass of water. I declined, swallowing it dry.\n\n...\n\nI stood before this... a regular prison guard is what he was, I'd somehow expected something more. He looked tired, apparently mine was the 13th execution today.",
"They said that I had a choice. That my sentence for the ‘heinous’ crimes I had committed was to choose a pill. One pill would kill me straight out, kaput, no contest, donezo dead. Laying on my back, light fading from my eyes, like I had seen so many others do before me. Because of me. It fascinated me to think of myself lying there, cold, unmoving, not breathing or talking or thinking. But my death would be anticlimactic that way. No blood, no screams, no passion or trying to fight for my life. No animal instincts overriding my rational human mind. No. That would not be a death fit for me. Fit for a messiah. Fighting for your life is the most pure experience anyone could ever have. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen the blood soaked faces, the screams of pure agony being ripped from their throats. The determined look in their eyes when they think they can kill you instead of being killed. They always either lunge or run. There are only two pathways for fear to act upon the primitive brain. Fight or flight. Those that run are found and quickly put to rest, not worth the time to purify them. They lay on the ground, eyes rolled up in their heads, mouths open in an eternal scream. The flighters are so boring. Those that fight, now, those are my favorite. They are willing to go through the rigorous cleansing of their souls. The fight for their lives. The fight, that allows them to atone for their sins, and be cleansed to ascend into heaven. And I swear, when they’re done, they’re the most peaceful of all. They had a chance and they took it. For someone who gave others that chance, it would not be fitting to take that away from myself. \nMy second choice is a science experiment. Apparently no one knows what happens if you take that pill. Nobody has ever chosen that before, preferring to die a painless death, rather than face the unknown of the pill. Death row inmates apparently believe that they can atone for their sins without anguish or torture. A painless death, however, is useless. You arrive in heaven without paying for your sins; without acknowledging that the whole point of life is anguish and suffering. Only then will you know what true bliss is in the afterlife. This second pill probably gives you cancer, or makes you go insane. They would never give something safe to death row inmates, preferring them to die than even staying incarcerated for their entire lives. It’s got to be something worse than death, and so I want it. \n\n--------\n“He chose the second pill huh?”\n\n“Uhh, yup. Guess so.”\n\n“So, did it do anything other than kill him?”\n“I guess not, that’s weird.”\n\n“Oh shit. Hey Bob?”\n\n“Yeah Carl?”\n\n“I mixed them up. The pills. Look at the bottles, I usually put them in the exact same order every time. But this time, I mixed them up.”\n\n“So he chose the first pill?”\n\n“Looks that way.”\n\n“Well, we’ll just tell everyone he chose that pill. Doesn’t matter really anyway, now that he’s off the streets.”\n\n“That’s true. Alrighty, sucks though. I really wanted to find out what that pill does.”\n",
"\"So you're telling me... nobody knows what the other one does? Not even the guards?\" I say as I look over to my cell mate, waiting him to repeat what he just said. \n\"Nobody\" Jerry said with an annoyed tone. \"Their ain't a single man in this building who knows what it does\". Jerry is a hulk of a man, with short brown hair and small eyes. I clearly irritate him, but he has learned to live with it. Both of us had killed people before, Jerry held up a bank and shot 4 people and injured two others while I had been involved in a hit and run.\nI was clearly bugging him, but I kept on digging for information.\n\"But what about the people who make it? Surely *they* must know what it does?\". I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It just didn't make sense to me. Jerry frowned and turned over on his bed facing away from me. He always does that when I pester him for information. I gave up and continued pondering my impending \"decision\". \nSo it turns out that there is a little known fact about capital punishment that very few know. Capital punishment is a choice. Ever since the government reforms of 2023AD and the Overpopulation Regulations, the government have been handing out capital punishment for most crimes. This has lead to a relatively safer society. Of course there are still people who try their luck, which is why we are here. Every person on death row is given two pills to choose from. One of these pills gives you a quick and relatively painless death. The other pill has only been taken by one person, who freaked out soon after taking it and managed to convince the guard to give them the other pill. Needless to say that ever since people have only wanted to take the pill of death.\nBut I'm going to take the other pill. Today is the day I find out what it does. If I'm going to die here then I want this question answered.\nThe thudding at the cell door tells me its time. I get up and say goodbye to Jerry, who completely ignores me. I think this is his way of coping with me going. I'm going to miss that big guy.\nThe walk to the execution centre feels quicker than it should and we are there within 2 minutes. They have a long list of people being executed, they must be trying to rush this.\nThe guards walk me into the room and close the door behind me. There is nobody in here, but there is a mirror along one of the walls that makes me think that someone is watching me. The only things in the room is a table, and the two pills perched on top. Each pill is labelled either \"A\" or \"B\". Pill A is the death pill which I avoid. I lean over and pick up Pill B, and quickly ingest it. \nNothing happens. I wait. I sit on the floor against the wall and I sit. What feels like hours past and I was left uninterrupted. \n\nThat's when I see her. I glance up and see her standing there. She was still wearing the yellow dress. Torn and covered in blood. I see the girl I hit with my car. \n\nThen I hear her voice in my head. The questions. Why did I leave her on the road? Where are her parents? Where is she now? Her lips don't move but I can see it in her eyes. I feel the guilt in me rising. I don't know how much more of this I can take.\n\nI cannot live with this anymore. That's when I make the second decision. The one that I was always supposed to take."
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[WP] Everyone is born with superpowers that develop awkwardly. At 21, you've discovered you're the first person who can teleport. It's not going well.
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"everyone else seem to be getting their powers but not me. jim got his X-ray, bill can fly and tina can turn invisible. i can only imagine what my power can be. i won't be that exciting coming from the town drunk who's power is to be able to infallible but is always to drunk. and the son of my mother who has th power to count how many drinks you have had. i know my power could never be that great. \n\n2 weeks down the road.\n\ni thought puberty was bad. try getting a random boner and then randomly transporting into the girls shower in the other dorm. \nat first they dint know what to do with me. i was the only one ever to transport. \nmy dad donesnt give a shit he just asked if i could transport his as to the nearest LC. \nthe girls lockerroom wasn't even the worst....",
"It was a strange day I found my.. well let call it \"Ability\"\n\nIt was the ability to teleport, to a completely unknown location but it was only obtained through ejaculation. \n\nTimes and been long and hard.. excuse the irony of my writing for I've done everything in my power to remain unhard.\n\nWhen I jerk off, I always keep a compass nearby. ",
"I would consider myself fortunate.\n\nMostly.\n\nI survived the Pyrokinetic fires that destroyed the cities. I survived the Hydrokinetic flooding of the coasts. I survived the Terrakinetics taking islands for themselves and recreating the Archipelago.\n\nI feel really sorry for the Technopaths. They possibly would've won against the Floramancers, if only the Ferromancers hadn't already ripped out and repurposed all the metal.\n\nThe Telekinetics would've been less scared if they hadn't immediately decided that Telepaths were easily defeated. Though, to be fair, the illusory phantasms causing heart attacks were nothing compared to the summoned demons and monsters actually tearing out hearts.\n\nI can only assume that those who went invisible found a way to cope or stay away from the violence, or died. Not that we would have found the bodies, except by tripping over them, if there was anything left.\n\nAnd my thoughts really do go out to the families of those with the power of flight. Low atmosphere, immediate obstacles, planes and poor landings are not high on anyone's list for first-hand experience. And I can't imagine what the last thoughts of those who sleep-flew were.\n\nSo, while I appear to be fading from this cave I'm sheltering in - I can hear waves, as though I'm on a beach, which is peculiar - I give thanks that I didn't gain Super-Strength, without a reinforced skeleton to support it. Or that I could shapeshift, and then thanks to lesser brain activity, never revert.\n\nAs the sound of waves gets closer - that is really starting to bother me - I can feel it getting warmer. Maybe I'm going somewhere nice, where it won't rain. All I can hope is that the variety of Werewolves (or -goats, -tigers, -elephants and -rats), Vampires (Blood-, Energy- and, strangely, Electricity-) and the army of the living dead (between wishes, nigh-immortality and Necromancy... it makes me shudder) aren't anywhere nearby.\n\nIt's starting to smell. I think that's salt. And I can feel sand under my toes. The cave has almost gone now. I think I might be the first to teleport. I never heard of anyone else before telecommunications went down, and the airwaves became full of noise across the spectrum. Those Hypersensitives had it rough. Y'know, before their brains puddled. But even if I'd been the only one, these 2-minute travel times get frustrating. And it's always the senses that get there first. Very confusing for my body. Maybe I'll meet another one, and we can compare experiences.\n\nBefore I drifted out this way, I heard that there were some Psychics who survived the purge. Well, at least one. But she'd been kept isolated, since she was a gibbering wreck. All that death in the last six months... it takes a toll, it seems. And then the ones who could become corporeal were a whole new threat. I met one who was content to rattle a few rocks to scare the birds every so often for fun. Until the Exorcist turned up anyway. Dressed as a priest, too. Must've seen the film, though the eyepatch was an interesting departure.\n\nFinally finished the trip. Sat on a beach, in afternoon sunlight, waves lapping at the shore. Not a bad way to go out. Doctors only gave me a couple of months after the radiation poisoning, anyway...",
"This morning, I woke up in the front yard. I found this particularly odd, until I realized it was December 18th. My 21st. \n\nShit. \n\nOkay, maybe I can teleport, or manipulate space, like Vista in that Worm web serial. \n\nBut even if you have super powers, you may not know how to use them just based on intuition alone. \n\nAttempt after attempt left me frustrated and hungry, I lost track of time, and went to work.\n\nIn my job as a driver, I get some downtime over the course of the day, and due to the stress of my morning I promptly fell asleep. \n\nAnd that, is how I ended up in the President's bathroom.\n\n*just typed this out for shits and giggles in 10 minutes or so.*",
"\"Everyone is always extremely excited to see what ability they get, well everyone does odd things to try and activate their ability, trying to jump off things to fly, trying to think very hard about everything, focusing on someone's mind, an object or to focus on producing something.\n\nWell, it is all quite odd to watch from the perspective of one who doesn't much care for this type of thing. I kind of wonder what my ability is, or how to activate it. That would be pretty nice to figure out. But I don't want to spend my days doing odd things anymore. I gave up years ago.\"\n\nHe says while walking down the street to his friend.\n\n\"You have a pretty cool ability right? Even if you can't use it much?\"\n\n\"Mhmm, yeah, I can shoot little bone bullets from the palm of my hand. It took a while, because I have to put my hand in an odd position and then I need to essentially act like my arm is a gun.\"\n\n\"I am a little jealous, i've always wanted an ability like that, something simple, where I could point at something, with my hand in an odd position and-\"\n\nHe up into the sky and at the moon. His friend follows his arm up to the sky and in a few seconds, he can see that on the moon, a very large impact is occurring, the orb starts to crack and burn up as he looks to it wondering if his friend could have done this, if his ability is this destructive, like something never seen before. \n\nHe turns back but his friend is gone, completely gone. He looks back up to the sky wondering what could have happened. It may be that they never figure out completely what happened. The moon has been dealt very heavy damage, and it will be raining down on them, so who is to know if they will survive to know what happened.\n\nYou on the other hand do not live in their world.When our 21 year old activated his ability, he teleported to the moon in an instant, the kinetic force behind his kinetic movement through space, living on earth, going around the sun, going around the galaxy moving through the universe. It all adds up to a speed that forces his body through the moon in just a moment, completely destroying his body on impact transferring the difference in kinetic forces into the moon which gets blown apart as if it was struck by an atomic bomb unlike anything created by man.\n\nHe died, not knowing what happened to him, and unable to ever know what would happen to his good friends or the rest of those on earth.\n\n\n---------------------------\n\nI am a good 6 hours late, I just wanted to post my little story.",
"I wasn't able to control it at first.\n\nSame with most things in my life, but I felt as though this was something that I actually NEEDED to control. The first time it happened, I wasn't expecting it, I didn't know where I was going, and Ijust so happened to be in the middle of a conversation when it did. \n\nI was discussing politics with a good friend when suddenly, I was in the bedroom of an old couple... Who were going at it quite rough. I screamed and covered my eyes, wondering how I had gotten there and what the hell was going on. \n\nThe two turned to look at me, and all 3 of us were horrified.",
"\"Dammit, of all times. When the hell did I 'port?\"\n\nRunning from a massive group of enraged females, you try to recall the past thirty seconds of pure embarrassment and confusion. \n\n\"Was it when i closed my eyes for that brief period of time? Could it have been when i locked the stall door?\"\n\nIt doesn't matter now. What does matter is that i'm probably gonna be wanted for indecent exposure and for \"breaking and entering\" into West Mills Psychiatric Treatment Center. What's worse is that i didn't mean to start urinating on her plate of food nor did i mean to back up and accidentally stick my bare ass on the back of her friends head. \n\n\"Why Lord, why?\" \n\nOut of all the awkward things to have happened on your first date with Susan, you just had to need to piss. Even before that event you had to be a late bloomer - getting your powers four years later then everyone you know. And lastly, you had to be a teleporter.\n\n\"Finally, i got away.\" Only problem is you aren't to sure where 'away' is.\n\nSo, when i find Susan i should explain; i went to pee, walked into a stall and lock the door, and shut my eyes to turn around and relieve myself. Next thing i know i've been 'ported into the cafeteria of an Asylum and find myself peeing on a patients food as her and three friends eat on the floor in a corner...\n\n\nWhat hell this power has been",
"\"WHY IS MY ARM GROWING OUT OF MY STOMACH?\"\n\nI look around in a panic, which turns to pure terror as I realize that my stomach is actually my back. My head is on backwards. My arm is growing out of my back. \n\n\"WHY...IS MY ARM...ABOVE MY ASS...\"\n\nMy fingers are where my toes should be and my toes are where my fingers should be. I don't even know where I am or how I got here. I had just been tidying up my room, and then suddenly stumbled into a nightmare.\n\nI clench my jaw and squeeze my eyes shut. Amidst my panic I am suddenly aware of a clear image in my mind's eye of my bedroom. My perception of time slowed as I inspected my room just as I left it: a half empty glass of water on my bedside table, a pair of socks on the floor by the closet, my fan humming away. Why is this memory so lucid? I reach out and attempt to grab a sock off of the floor and I experience a bright flash then a split second of sudden darkness, and I’m back in my room, bent over reaching for the sock.\n\n“Oh my god. Oh. My. God.” I pat my hands all over my body and inspect myself. Everything appears to be where it should be. My fingers and toes are no longer switched, my arms are hanging from my shoulders and my head is on straight.\n\nI stumble down the steps towards the living room. My dad is watching the Red Sox game, looking like he’s sitting in an invisible chair. I never knew why he levitated like that.\n\n“Dad. I was in my room and I suddenly blacked out and woke up somewhere else, my toes were fingers and my head was backwards and my arms were in the wrong place and…” My heart starts racing as I relive the fear I felt moments before.\n\n“Well, how ‘bout that! My boy’s a teleporter. Good for you!” He floated over to me and gave me a hearty smack on the back.\n\n“What the hell is the point of teleporting if I show up looking like I went through a blender?” I ask, noticing that my eyes are beginning to water.\n\n\"My buddy Jim growin’ up was a 'porter. Apparently the molecules and shit fall apart where you begin, and rebuilt in a new spot. Until ya learn how to focus properly, you re-materialize all sorts a’ fucked up. Jim told me once he ‘ported over to work and didn’t notice until lunch that his nose was his pecker! Hah! What a dumbass.” \n\nI force out a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure I want this.\"\n\n“Don’t worry boy. Jim told me you port back to where you came from pretty easily...guess the molecules know how to build back the way they came. Ya just gotta learn how to focus clearly on where you wanna go. Ol’ Jimmy had no problem ‘portin into his favorite titty bar to skip the cover charge!\"\n\nThat was a relief. Teleporting had an \"edit-undo\" feature. Good for me, I can show up somewhere as Peter Pecker-nose and port back before I die of embarrassment.",
"*sigh*. \n\nGoddamnit.\n\n...\n\nI don't know where my penis is.\n\nI hope it's OK.\n\nJust like the Flame-kids out there, my teleportation isn't a full-body \"burn\" yet. It happens a piece at a time, and not with my full control.\n\nEventually I catch up to my hands or legs when they get ahead of me, but the waiting kills me.\n\nI have a rough idea of what my limbs are up to because I can still feel them, and they remain in the same relative body position as when it began. Luckily it only happens in the dorms or when I'm otherwise focused on trying it. Universities are understandably accommodating of the newly awakened.\n\nI'm just glad that when I fully transported last time, the girls had already fled my disembodied pair of arms floating in the locker room. I guess they thought I was one of Ghosters because I felt a water bottle hit my shoulder... on the inside;I'm guessing my lack of an invisible torso proved otherwise, but I was too embarrassed to seek anyone out to ask.\n\nWhere's my dick? It's been almost an hour. I usually catch up in no longer than 40 minutes. I guess the stress of literally losing my cock is making it harder to focus on the jump.\n\nI can feel a cool breeze and I hope it's some desolate beach somewhere and not something that'll get me on a registry somewhere.\n\nWith a soft \"*bamf*\" of displaced air, I finally catch up (yes, comics actually portray the sound right). I'm in the corner of an empty art class. Oh thank god. Nobody saw me.\n\nThe rest of the week goes by relatively uneventfully. I jump once or twice but it was into the basketball courts (legfirst), and to the roof of the science building (my entire lower half went first this time!... but I was aiming for the labs).\n\nOn Tuesday I see a poster that chills my blood and I nearly pass out:\n\n>Student Exhibition: The Flying Penis - 60 new pieces based on a recent mid-class incident.\n\nNow I'm in Auckland. This was my first complete jump, and the farthest by a few thousand miles. I haven't been able to jump back yet, but this is as gorgeous a place to practice as I can imagine.",
"I rolled over, wincing, as I slowly woke up - this didn't feel like my bed. This was hard, digging into my left hip as I flopped onto my back. My eyes were still closed, but I could hear voices a few feet away from me, speaking in low tones. It didn't sound right, but I couldn't quite figure out why. I paused for a few heartbeats, then opened my eyes.\n\nNope. I closed them again, pressing my hands over them. I waited for something to change, to feel different, to wake up, but nothing happened. I slid two fingers apart and opened one eye, peering out through the slit like I did when something scary came on TV when I was a kid. \n\nThe sky was a deep blue, not quite fully dark, and the orange halogen lights glowed onto the stones of the buildings surrounding me. No one seemed to be trying to kill me yet, though, so I used my hands to push myself up into a sitting position. Shit. I can't say for sure where here was, but it wasn't where I was last night when I went to sleep. I didn't even have anything to drink - we were saving that for tonight, when I was actually legal. But if it was night - what day was it? And where was I? \n\nThe building in front of me was ornate, like a cathedral out of one of my history books. It wasn't recognizable, nor was the language I still could hear nearby. People meant figuring out where here was. I stood and followed the voices. Two older men were around the corner of the cathedral, the orange lights bouncing off of the building giving their face an ethereal appearance.\n\n\"Hej, paní, jsi v pořádku?\" The man facing me frowned, his voice raspy from years of a two-pack-a-day habit from the sound of it. I didn't recognize what he'd said as even being a language, the odd sounds jumbling in my ears. The second man turned around and stared at me, his eyes unwrapping me like a piece of candy. Looking down, I realized why. Shit, I was still in my pajamas. I wasn't wearing a bra, and my shorts barely covered my underwear. Then again, at least I was wearing pajamas last night.\n\n\"English?\" I asked. The first man shook his head and turned back to his companion. I turned to walk back the way I'd come, ignoring the creeping sensation of being watched as I walked away from them. \n\nStairs led down from the cathedral towards a bustling-looking city in front of me. Surely someone here spoke English and would help me figure out where I was. Or - no, there was a sign on the wall right by the top of the stairs. Saint Vitus Cathedral, Prague. How on earth did I end up here? I closed my eyes tightly, trying to remember last night.\n\nI was working on my paper at the library, trying to figure out how I was going to fill 8-10 pages about the symbolism of boats in modern Turkish literature. I ran into Brittany on my way back to the dorm, asked her how her spring break trip was. She had - what the hell was happening - talked about Prague and how beautiful it was and why was I here now? I should be in bed, Amelie across the room, with a book on the floor and my water bottle on the desk right behind me where I could reach it. I could picture it so vividly, almost feel my pillow under my head and the covers bunched up around my feet where I kicked them off. I opened my eyes and realized I was actually feeling my pillow, not imagining it. I was back in my bed. I rubbed my right foot against my left calf and could feel dirt between them - no way that had just been my imagination.\n\nI sat up and leaned against the wall. Breathe, you're back where you should be. You can figure this out. I turned on my desk light and grabbed the note pad from by the computer. Amelie groaned and rolled over so the light wouldn't hit her eyes. I started making bullet points on the paper.\n\n- Just turned 21\n- Sleepwalking? \n- Prague?????\n- Brittany's trip to Prague???\n- Can you sleepwalk to another continent?\n\nAmelie sighed and pointed her arm at the ceiling before draping it over her face, leaving a faint pink glow in an arc over her head. I smiled - her control over light had improved so much. I mean, she had stopped turning my desk light off when I worked late while she was asleep and I no longer woke up to blinding lights from her side of the room. \n\nI looked at my list again and it was pathetic. I was supposed to know what I could do already, not be sitting here waiting for it to happen for frak's sake! I threw the notepad on my bed and decided to take a shower to clear my head. Maybe it would calm me down so I could sleep. I could hope, couldn't I? I didn't want to get any more Prague-dirt on my sheets for one thing. \n\nThe bathroom was deserted so I turned the showers around me to as hot as they would go, filling the shower room to a steam room. I let the water flow down my head, just like a waterfall. My eyes closed, I pictured a waterfall I'd seen a picture of when I was a kid. I'd begged my parents to take me there but it was in South America and we obviously weren't going to another continent just so I could see a waterfall. I yelped as the water turned icy cold and the room went mostly dark - great, another power outage? We'd had three this semester already. Goosebumps covered my body as I opened my eyes to find my way out of the dark bathroom. I slid off a rock into a pool of icy water and sank, surprised, before clawing my way back to the surface. My flip flop fell off as I made my way to the faintly-visible shore. \n\nOkay, this wasn't an accident. This definitely happened and now I was - wherever I was. Catching my breath in the cool early-morning air I realized I was somewhere in South America and completely naked. This was bad. Okay, calm down. What you need to do is just focus. I closed my eyes and pictured the shower room back at school, imagined how the water felt on my head, the faintly musty smell from the drains, the smell of my body wash, the steam filling the room.\n\nI was sitting on the floor of the showers, my shower shoes nowhere to be seen. Disoriented, I stood up. \"I'd better not get a bunch of diseases from this,\" I said out loud, my voice echoing through the empty room. I picked up my shower caddy and turned off the showers, wrapping myself in my towel. Sitting on the bench by the lockers, I came to a startling realization: I might need to change my major from international studies to something a little closer to home.",
"Kim woke up this morning and found herself without a nose.\n\nThis had been happening with alarming frequency lately. Ever since she turned twenty-one, in fact. And it was not just the nose. Oh no, it was never just the nose.\n\nShe closed her eyes and kept still on her bed, shifting her (fully fingered, thank god) hands and her attention from one small body part to the next. Hooray, by the way, for still having both eyes. Ears? Check. Lips? Check. Teeth? Missing a few. Not very important, so long as she refrained from smiling today. Everything would come back in about eighteen hours. Until the next...\"episode\", at least. \n\nKim felt her ribs. No casualty. Arm joints functional. Neck tilt normal. Jaws and tongue in position and ready. No obvious holes on the torso. Legs operational. Full toe count of ten. Wait, no, nine and a half. No sandals today. Could be better, could be worse.\n\nTeleportation was great. Fantastic, even. She went to the Great Canyon every morning for jogs (when legs were functional) and had her work lunches in Venice (no, she did not buy lunches in Venice; that would be squandering. She just brought her home-made ham sandwich to Venice, and ate it with the views). All she needed was a photograph, or even just a Google satellite image (though she would show up in the air and have to get rid of the falling momentum by a small teleport hop). She could bring whatever she had in contact with her skin with her, so long as it was big enough for her to see. Her first month of twenty-one was, therefore, absolutely wonderful.\n\nHowever, just into the second month, her ability went haywire like everyone else's. As it turned out, she could only move everything with her, and everything that **was** her, when she was awake and alert. Whenever she fell asleep, her body would, at random, teleport itself away in bits and pieces. And then the pieces would come back before she woke up, *if* they were large enough. Things like toes, she thought, probably just did not have enough space-time *Oomph* to them for speedier recovery. Mass equals energy, and all that.\n\nKim had also never been, say, missing her heart or her pancreas, and she assumed that these things were somehow essential to her, uh, *her-ness*, so that they would always go together in a teleport. But skin strips? Hair? *Half of her tongue*? All seemed to be fair game. To be sure, these scattered bits were kind of indestructible, somehow. She had see her neighbor's dog chew on one of her missing thumbs, and she got it back from the beast with not so much as a scratch. On the thumb, that is; she was cut pretty deep by a canine (in both senses of the word) on her arm and had to get rabies vaccine.\n\nSo, Kim had daily minor annoyances. Just like everyone else, perhaps. But how could she possibly show up to work without a nose? Groucho glasses could only get you so far. She would prefer not having to use her power for, well, unlawful employment, since she had to put herself through college. Should she just call in sick? But no, she had a better idea. She sat up, grabbed the tablet on her nightstand, and began searching for costume shops. Wasn't Halloween right around the corner? With some make-up and a lot of conversation-avoiding, she should be able to get by with a latex replica. Just get dressed, get a map, and teleport over; she should still be able to make the shift at ten.\n\nKim got dressed. She got a map. She teleported.\n\n\"Hi there! How can I help you?\" Came the greeting from an employee with a spider hat.\n\nShe said: \"I'd like a latex nose, please.\" Or rather, that was what she wanted to say. Unfortunately, she could not make any sound other than a muffled huff. \n\nAnd then it hit her. She was missing her vocal cords.\n*Damn, how am I going to call in sick NOW?*",
"\"Get OUT, you creep!\"\n\nMy hands weren't on person, so I quickly pushed myself upright. \"Sorry! Sorry, I...\"\n\nI did manage at least to get off her bed before tripping. I had gone to sleep with my blindfold on, of course. That helped a lot. And I had PJs that looked like they were from a 50's sitcom. Anything to be disarming.\n\nI heard a click - presumably the light coming on - and a deep sigh. Then another. \"Oh, it's you again. Still no control?\"\n\n\"I have some control over where end up, now, if I'm awake, but I still can't do it on command. Uh, who are you?\"\n\n\"Lisa.\"\n\n\"Lisa who shoots fire, or...\"\n\n\"Lisa who can taste what people around her are tasting. And you can take off the blindfold.\"\n\nI did, and found my way to the door. \"Sorry again.\"\n\n\"Good luck with that!\"\n\nIn the hallway, I faced a gaunt man who eyed me simultaneously sympathetically and with a deep warning. \"Nice talent. It'll be nicer after the break-in period is over. You've got another... two weeks, is it?\"\n\n\"Yes sir. Two weeks tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I expect not to see you again, then.\" I couldn't help noticing the blades protruding from the backs of his arms.\n\n\"Probably not, sir. And not after then, anyway.\"\n\nHe nodded, and I finished making my way out. A deep breath. That hadn't been so bad as some.",
"I come away from the wall with a small, wet sound quite unlike anything I’ve heard before, and slump to the ground, a heap, the rush of pure, unadulterated adrenaline that coursed through me before the jump steadily settling down. I bunch up my legs and shuffle back to my bed, feeling the tears begin to come. I instinctively raise my left arm to wipe my eyes. A moment passes before my muscles catch up with the obvious.\n\nIt’s in my bedroom wall. It was a part of me, something integral, something… I’d thought I’d never lose. But no amount of closing my eyes and opening them again is going to reattach that useless hunk of flesh in the plasterboard and that useless, waggling protuberance from my left shoulder.\n\nIt should *hurt*. There should be agony right now. There should be blood. There should be some sort of sense that my arm’s been cut off. There is nothing except that curious feeling of absence, that lacuna of sensation, that… nothingness. The muscles in my shoulder keep moving, keep thinking they’re attached to something else. They won’t be. They never will be again.\n\nI look up at my bedroom wall, eyes streaming as reality crushes in on me. There it is. Concentric rings of flesh. There’s the oh-so-thin layer of skin… then the rich, carmine muscle fibres, tapering to white as it moves towards the bone… and the yellowing, the marrow exposed to the air. A perfect cross-section, cut to an impossibly precise vector. The universe reasserting its order, I suppose.\n\nMy eyes lower as I curl up on the floor, my remaining arm hugging my legs into my chest. Tears work their way through legging fibre and onto my knees, hot and stinging. I’d… I’d heard things like this could happen. It was in fiction. Video games. When you teleported… moved to where something solid already existed… placed two atoms in the same space… something always gets displaced. Telefrag. Just another way to stylishly blow up another player in a shooting game, or as a plot device for horrible teleporter accidents. I think it was in a Star Trek I saw a few years ago.\n\nIt’s here now.\n\nIn hindsight, it seems a little foolish. It’s not as if powers come with some kind of universal safety switch. It’s become commonplace to hear stories of young pyrokines burning themselves to death, or the occasional horrific explosion when some gravitic genius decides he’s going to try and make a singularity in his back garden. Why should teleportation be easy? Did I really expect the universe to gently tell me ‘No, you can’t jump here, there’s a wall. Try half a meter to the left?’ That somehow I’d displace what I appeared in and be fine and dandy, leaving only a hand-shaped hole in the wall to explain to the landlord?\n\nHow do I know that the next time I try and flicker across the street, I won’t be interrupted by a passing leaflet or plastic bag blowing on the wind that cuts me clean in half?\n\nSobs. My stump-arm is thrashing idly, trying to get a grip on my leg, not understanding why it can’t. I’m going to have to learn to write again. I’m going to have to quit college basketball. I’m going to have to get that damn arm out of my wall.\n\nAnd who knows what’ll happen next time I jump? If I get cornered in a bar and do it out of panic? If I’m about to be run over? If I… what if I take somebody alongside me? Will we simply… annihilate each other? Scatter our atoms to the wind?\n\nWhat the hell am I going to do?",
"I know there are some people who can read thoughts from anywhere. I know there are some people who can hear the thoughts of the dead. I know there are some people who have abilities we can't yet understand. If you're hearing this, seeing this, understanding this, then these words are for you.\n\nMy family lives on 241 Bradbury Rd. in Scottsdale, California. Please let them know what happened to me, and make sure they know to tell the authorities to keep others from making the same mistake.\n\nMy ability allows me to teleport. I know, no one has done it before, and maybe I'm the first. Or maybe all the others died without being able to let anyone know what happened. I'm... I'm probably gonna' die too. I can't hold my breath too much longer.\n\nWhen you teleport, you can't really control where you go. You could go anywhere. And there's a *lot* of anywhere. It's not anywhere on Earth, it's *anywhere*. I've seen stars I have no clue what they are... but mostly, I've seen a lot of nothing. There's a *lot* of nothing out here. Most of the places I've gone to have nothing.\n\nI've been shifting from one place to another about once a second. I have yet to reappear on Earth or even another planet. I'm probably lucky I haven't reappeared in a star or black hole or something. Mostly, I've just been floating. And cold. And unable to breathe.\n\nI know I'm gonna' lose it any minute now. I can't hold my breath any more. If you can hear this, please tell my folks I love them. Tell my brother to stay in school. Tell Sandy I'm sorry, and I want her to move on with her life. Tell everyone I'm sorry. I'm sorry...",
"Closing my eyes, I create a clear image of me sitting on the Maya Bay beach in Thailand, as I have many times since I first realized I may be able to teleport at the age of 13. From the photos I'd seen online, it was clear as day in my mind. Palm trees hanging over the water, casting flower-shaped shadows over the narrow beach. A small beach cabin rested peacefully on stilts in the distance. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a plush, white mattress adorned with fresh sheets being freshened by the wind.\n\nBack in my early teen years and up until now, I could only send my consciousness to places I imagined, and even then, those places had to be locations I'd visited before. I could look around for a few seconds, at most, before gasping back to reality in my physical body.\n\nNot having traveled much, I used my developing power as any young teenage boy might. I'd send my consciousness into girls houses that I was friends with, hoping to catch a few lucky seconds of them in a state of undress. Unfortunately, I'd more often happen upon a dad on the toilet. It was a challenge for me to go back over to their houses to hang out after seeing a hairy 200+ pounder lifting his cheek to wipe.\n\nOnly on occasion, I could send my consciousness to places I'd never been before, but had seen on the internet or on TV. When I turned 16, I was able to clear my mind and send myself to locations with a newfound focus. I'd have a few seconds looking down into a Volcano on one of the Hawaiian islands i'd seen on the Travel Channel, atop a snowy mountain in Alaska from a photo on Reddit, and one time even on top of the empire state building in NYC. To quote Gordon Ramsey, \"Stunning.\"\n\n16 was a good age. I could reasonably control sending my consciousness into my crushes bedrooms, rather than their parents' shitters. Hardly ever, maybe once or twice, did I ever catch the girls changing, as my voyeuristic mind so diligently sought after. \n\nAt 18 and a little past my perv-prime, I could start to interact with the physical environments i visited, to a degree. Seconds turned into minutes at a time, and I began to have awareness of my body being along with me for the ride. I could feel the sand under my feet, feel the grain of the wood on the table at my girlfriend's house, but still couldn't interact with my surroundings or physically move anything. Still, nobody else could see or sense my presence. I was a mere ghost in the room.\n\nThat proved helpful to cheat on tests at school. A few minutes looking over my teacher's shoulder before (or sometimes during) a test often turned a should-be-F into a deserved A. My confidence grew with each trip out of my body.\n\nLong story short, that's how I graduated from college early, with honors. My mom is proud. \n\nSo here I am at 21, focusing on the beach I've always wanted to visit, but have never had the means to. My consciousness begins to float, as it typically does, and I find myself on the deck of the beach cabin. Something is different. I feel a breeze combing through my fingers and causing my hair to sweep in front of my eyes, blocking my view. I'm actually here. Physically here, for the first time ever. I'm overwhelmed with a euphoric disbelief. \n\nTurning around, I run my hands along the wood paneling of the cabin, taking in all of the smells, all of the sounds, that have never been part of my experience in the past. I begin to push open the door, imagining that familiar bed strewn with pristine white sheets that I'm ready to jump on. It creaks open and I jolt back in disbelief. \n\nFour midgets, all male, are naked in the bed, which is no longer even close to being white. Lathered in oil and tangled in each others' stumpy limbs, their groans and moans cement into my memory. I need to snap out of this and get back home. Falling back out of the doorway, the last thing I remember before blackness is a sharp pain running down my spine.\n\nI wake up and my ears are ringing. I'm naked in the beach cabin, covered in oil and surrounded by four midgets sleeping soundly. How the fuck did I get here, what happened while I was out, and how do I get home?\n\n \n\n",
"\"Free drink?\"\n\nThis barman was an ugly one. Think a cross between a wombat and a fat Ebenezer Scrooge. He was an ugly one, and now he was snarling at me.\n\n\"Why in God's name,\" he said, \"Would I give you a free drink?\"\n\n\"It's my 21st, man!\" I give him a winning smile. At least I *think* it's a winning smile. \"This'll be my first drink *ever.* And you get the honors.\"\n\nHis face broke into something like compassion, but hardened right up again like lava in water. \"Show me some ID.\"\n\n\"Done and done.\" I pulled out the card and slid it across the bar. He read it slowly--I was surprised he could read at all, really--and handed it back to me. \n\n\"Fine. What do you want?\"\n\n\"I hear the Red-Headed Slut is pretty good?\"\n\n\"Ugh.\" He mixed a few drinks behind the bar and handed it to me. \"Enjoy. After this you have to pay.\"\n\n\"Of course!\"\n\nI looked down at the swirling red and felt like I was about to drink a potion, like in one of those old-school RPGs on the Super Nintendo. All my friends drank, even some in High School, but this was going to be my first time. It was just the first step on to irresponsible shenanigans and lots of damaged property. Whoo!\n\n\"You going to stop nursing that thing?\" My friend Luke touched the glass and cooled it down until it was icy. \"Can't keep this thing cold forever. This is your first, so you best do a shot!\"\n\nI grabbed the glass and smiled.\n\nLuke whispered, \"Shot... shot.. shot... shot...\"\n\nA couple of my buddies heard and took up the call, \"Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot!\"\n\nI drank.\n\nGood god, that had a kick. It was like my throat punched back through my head and--\n\nFuck.\n\n\"Excuse me, where am I?\"\n\n*\"Main English nahin bolta hoon.* Sorry. \"\n\n\"Excuse me, does anyone here speak English?\"\n\n\"No, no Angrez, no. Please, I must work now.\"\n\nThe sky was smoggy, the air smelled vaguely of livestock, and my shoes were missing. I must've really gone on a bender, I couldn't remember *shit.* I checked my pockets for my phone and wallet. Not a trace.\n\nWell, fuck me.\n\n***\n\nThe next thing you know, I found myself at a bar. \n\n\"Hello, hello! You are new to Bangalore?\"\n\nBangalore, India. Jesus.\n\n\"Yes, I'm new. Very new.\"\n\nThe barman smiled. He had a big bushy mustache and it curled up like a frayed broom when he laughed. \"I have special drink just for you. Guest is god! You are a guest of this country!\"\n\nHe poured a clear liquor into a glass and it slammed it right in front of me.\n\nEh. I had nothing better to do.\n\nI pounded it, and it pounded me right back into my own face.\n\nI must've been a hell of a lightweight, because the next thing I knew, I was facedown in a haypile in someone's barn.\n\n\"'The fuck you doin' here on my property?\"\n\nThere was the distinct metallic sound of a shotgun being pumped.\n\nI slowly raised my arms. \"I must've gotten really drunk--I'm sorry, where am I?\"\n\n\"You're on my goddamned property!\"\n\n\"But where?\"\n\n\"Just outside of Lubbock, Texas. You *lost*, boy?\"\n\nI was in the *South*? Of all places, why did I choose to go to Texas? Also, how was that even possible--I didn't have my wallet. \n\nUnless--Shit. Most people got their powers when they were teenagers. My parents thought I was going to be a 'special child' because I never got one.\n\nMaybe this was it. Maybe I could... teleport?\n\nI thought about it really hard. Really *really* hard. Come on. Go. Go to New York. Manhattan. Picture the apartment. Picture your roommates. Come on. GO!\n\nThe man lowered his gun. \"Do you need to take a shit, son?\"\n\nI opened my eyes. \"Sorry, I, I'm just really hungover.\"\n\n\"Well you seem harmless enough. You know what the best remedy for a hangover is, dontcha?\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\nHe smiled a yellow smile. \"Good ol' Kentucky bourbon.\"\n\nThe next thing I knew, I had a glass in front of me swirling with liquid the color of syrup, and the Texan was on the phone with the police. He said they could set me straight and get me to where I needed.\n\nWell. Here went nothing.\n\nI took the shot, and felt my brains shoot out of my ass.\n\nI wondered where I'd end up next?\n\n***\n\nI'm embarrassed to admit this, but in the interests of telling a whole and truthful story, I will.\n\nI shit myself.\n\nI shit myself really, really hard.\n\nMy Cyrilic was rusty, but I'm pretty sure I read the words Kapustin Yar on one of the steel doors. The Russians with pistols aimed at my face helped my case.\n\nI was in the middle of the Russian Skunkworks. Area-fucking-51.\n\nIn a vat of fluid at the center of the room was a thing with a bulbous head, black eyes, and long, long limbs. The sight warmed my pants, I'm sorry to say.\n\nThere was no real way out of this. I needed a drink to get anywhere, and it wasn't like these Russian goons were about to sit me down with a bottle and regale me with tales. They'd just as soon shoot me right in the nostril.\n\nOne approached with fire glowing around his hands. Another's skin turned to steel and he plodded right towards me.\n\nWait.\n\nWait a second.\n\nI could smell vodka on their breaths. And god knows I'm a complete lightweight... maybe if...\n\nI grabbed one and kissed him full on the mouth. Almighty Christ, he must have completely drained a distillery on his own before coming to work. The sick taste of distilled potato remnants swallowed up my insides and ejected them out, out, out towards somewhere else, and somewhere far...\n\n***\n\nI woke up in a bubble of plastic. The floor was white tile, the lighting was diffuse, and I had the distinct feeling that I was at the center of a fishtank. \n\nI saw figures move around behind the shimmer of my plastic dome, but they never came clear enough to resolve.\n\n\"Hey!\" I yelled. \"Who... who changed my clothes?\"\n\nI was in a white gown. It was something like a surgical gown, but something about it was... off.\n\n\"Hey! You can't just keep me here!\"\n\nShit. Think about home. Think about the apartment. Think about your friends. Think and go, think and *go!*\n\nWhen I opened my eyes, I was still in the bubble.\n\nAfter three whole days, the door finally opened.\n\nDear readers, I am once again embarrassed to admit this, but--well, you can probably guess what happened.\n\nStanding before me was one of those beings. Big head, big black eyes, and a face that managed to be as inscrutable as it was kind. It was so strange.\n\n*\"Hissk rajak komakoff?\"*\n\n\"Well, then,\" I said. \"I must have come really, *really* far.\"\n\n*\"Hrajar lomarkan, komakoff?\"*\n\n\"Right, about that. I don't speak any alien.\"\n\nI shrugged my shoulders. There was really only one way out of this.\n\n\"Though if you understand *me*, I just have one teeny-tiny request.\"\n\n*\"Siera lomarkan. Ij jub.\"*\n\n\"You wouldn't be able to get me a free drink, now, would you? See... it's my 21st birthday.\"\n\n***\n###/r/NAIMKABIR\n\n\n",
"\"We'll call the Uber. Dan, are you joining us?\"\n\n\"No, thanks, I'll teleport. FUCK!\" \n\nNo, no, no, no, not again. God damn it.\n\nI look around at what appears to be a deserted island. \n\nLike the pirates movie kind of deserted island. Coconut trees and all that stuff.\n\n\"Shit,\" I say, pressing my eyes closed and trying again. Teleporting with ADHD is hell, man. You have to keep your mind focused on *one* thing, and one thing only, to teleport. You get distracted and shit like this happens.\n\nI picture the night club. The floor under my feet disappears, and I feel my body spinning into darkness.\n\n\"A suruba completa é cinquenta reais, mas pra você a gente faz desconto.\"\n\nI open my eyes to find a hairy-chested, fully-mustached man in fishnet stocking and a bowtie smiling at me from \nthe entrance of… I wanna say a nightclub… but this is a nightclub in the same sense that a kitten is a puma ridding \na dragon into battle. On fire.\n\nEveryone's naked behind the mustached fishnet stockings man, and there's soap and… is that a sex swing?\n\nGod, I don't even want to know.\n\n\"Where am I?\" I ask the man, trying with all my strength not to look behind him at the horrendous affair. \n\n\"Brazil,\" the man replies. \"This is the hottest swing club in Sao Paulo, dude.\"\n\n*Wrong nightclub,* I think, pressing my eyes shut again.\n\nYou have to have the clear image in your head. That, and only that image can be in your thoughts, otherwise it \ngoes wrong.\n\nGo ask Buddhist monks how easy it is to keep your mind focused. And Buddhist monks don't have to take Adderall to be functional.\n\nI picture the night club. The LOS ANGELES night club – the one my friends are going to. I wonder if Ethan is going \nto be there. Ethan is a nice guy. His father works at Nasa. Hey, what was that announcement Nasa made a couple \nof days –\n\nI open my eyes and I'm in Mars.\n\n\"SHIT!\"\n\nI press my eyes closed again, trying to think of anything at all before I die from the lack of…\n\nFrom the… you know, the pressure and the… oxygen…\n\nOk, I don't know what exactly will kill me in Mars, but I'm pretty sure something will if I don't get out of here soon. \n\nJust think of anything! Anything! Anywhere is better than here!\n\nI open my eyes and I see Matt Damon in his underwear.\n\n\"Dude, what the –\"\n\n\"I'm sorry!\" I say, opening my hands in front of my chest in apology. Matt jumps from his couch. \"I'm sorry! I had \nto think of something to get out of Mars and I guess your face was the first thing that popped in my mind, because \nof the movie, you know? I'll go soon, just give me –\"\n\n\"Get out! Get out!\" Matt Damon grabs a golf club and charges in my direction. Making a run for it, I press my eyes \nclosed again.\n\n*Ok, the nightclub! The nightclub! The nightclub in Hollywood! The nightclub in Hollywood! Yes, keep your mind \nfocused on it! It's just like performing a Patronus spell, you have to –*\n\nI open my eyes to the Diagon Alley Butterbeer stand at Universal Studios.\n\n\"Oh, for fuck's sake,\" I say, rolling my eyes.\n\n\"Hey, dude, there are kids here,\" a fat man walking by complains. \"Mind your language.\"\n\n\"Fuck!\" I yell, widening my eyes at him and his kids. \"FUCK! FUCK! FUCKEDDY FUCKEDDY FUCK! INTERCOURSE! \nFUCK A FUCKERSON FUCKERSWEAR FUCKEDDY FUCKARD! BOOBS!\"\n\nThe man sprints as I semi-chase him for a couple of steps, then stop again.\n\nOk, I have to calm down. I'm losing it.\n\nLet's look at the bright side. At least I have time here. I have all the time in the world to focus.\n\nI close my eyes. My mind is blank. Ok. Let's do it.\n\nNot a thought. Everything is blank. Peace. Tranquility.\n\nYou know what? Screw the nightclub. I just wanna go home, now.\n\nThat's it. Home.\n\nI picture it. My bedroom. The walls. The ceiling, the bed. The computer on the side. The books spread on the floor \nwith my dirty clothes.\n\n*Yes,* I think. *Home. Enough with this madness. Let's just go home.*\n\nUniversal Studios disappears around me, and I feel the floor vanish under my feet.\n\n*Yes. Enough with pansexual orgies and distant planets and Matt Damon and theme parks,* I think, naturally \npicturing all of these things as I think them.\n\nI wake up in a pansexual orgy at a Jupiter theme park with Matt Damon.\n\n\"You know what?\" I think, looking around. \"This one is actually pretty cool.\"\n\nMatt Damon smiles.\n\n________________________\n\n*Thanks for reading! For more stories, check out /r/psycho_alpaca =)*"
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[WP] The forest is all you have ever known. Mapping your home is how you spend your days. Then one day, you reach its edge.
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[
"\"What are these stone monoliths?\" I muse to myself. The edge of the forest is different than I imagined. Monoliths to the sky. How could I have missed this?\n\n\"What strange new world is this? Perhaps this is why the elder forbid us from coming here. This is scary to witness. Do human beings live here?\" I look at the map and look back into the forest.\n\nTomorrow, I go into the land of the monoliths. \"I'll make camp here. Let's see why humanity stayed in the forest.\"",
"Fifteen years piled upon another ten years...\n\nMy heart had been steadily beating ever since I began exploring where I lived with my family. None of us are related to one another and yet we've always been together, bound by a bond formed in the rustic wilderness. Sunlight would wake us up and we'd hunt and gather until the stars could no longer provide guidance and safety. The forest sheltered us from most storms and many heatwaves. People and creatures would pass through, never fond of lingering despite my insistence that the forest means no harm, which might be why I never wanted to leave, only explore. \n\nMy hands grasp at the spiky bushes and peel them apart, my eyes overcome with tired emotion. For so many years, I wondered where others were and today my question has been answered. In front of me, I see a stone pathway leading through green hills. And yet without trees, I feel it is unsafe, far too open to protect me and the others. I stay where I am and tilt my head, my heart erratically thudding inside my chest. My hands nervously add to the massive map I keep inside my pack made of Deer and Hisstle pelts. When I'm done drawing the pathway, I back up and quickly make my way back home.\n\nIt will take days to reach the others and during that time, I know there are other places for me to uncover. Those ideas were once filled with intrigue and hope but now I feel dread, unsure if I'll ever leave the forest. I don't want to, not anymore. Just because something is beyond my reach doesn't mean I need to grasp it. "
] |
[
2,
3
] |
[
"1444505410",
"1444517367"
] |
|
[WP] Ever since your birth, each day you experience life as a different film genre. You've lived through zombie apocalypses, world ending asteroids, murder mysteries and even days as a superhero. Today you wake to find something new.
| 3
|
[
"I wake up, still with a bit of a headache from shooting shotguns all day yesterday. Can't believe a zombie apocalypse can spread that fast. Happy that it had finally ended. I get up to feed my two dogs. I shuffle over to the kitchen half asleep looking for the dog food cabinet. I place down the dog food and walk over to the coffee table for a morning paper read. Headline says \"aliens go around town abducting!\". This puzzled me, I thought april fools was last week. Dogs are done eating at this point, and are barking franticly to go outside. \"Sure\" I say to myself out loud while letting the dogs out. As I let the dogs out, I notice a big shadow over the backyard. I go outside to check. Swoosh! is all I hear as I completely black out. I wake up stuck to a wall by what seems like lazer beams. So many thoughts run through my head, is this my last moments alive? Do these people want something from me? I see someone, no something walk into the room and starts speaking in a high frequency. I have no understanding of what is going on. I start screaming for help \"What do you want from me?\" \"What did I do to you?\". The alien leaves the room, and I am back to just my thoughts. For now. ",
"A train whistle shrieks throughout my mind and snaps me awake. I realize that I am not in a room at all. Rather I am in a pigsty surrounded by dirty pigs. My head is throbbing as a pig comes up to me snorting and doing pig things. I go to push him away and realize I am handcuffed to a wooden pole. What is going on? I kick at the pig and watch him squeal away. The pig is a slight respite from the headache, which seems to be pounding away up there. I feel woozy and turn and puke on the ground right next to me. Another pig tries to come over and eat my puke. I again turn and kick this pig away. I feel like I drank a 5 gallon tub of alcohol last night. This so far has not been one of my best days. For some reason everyday I wake up I live a different film genre out. Yesterday I was Mr. Magnifique, a French super hero, saving Paris from the claws of a giant wolf man. The other day I was saving Earth from aliens, but today I seem to be hungover in a pigsty. For some reason I am locked up, I can't get out and I smell like well pig shit. I try to jiggle my hands free, or yell for anyone to help me. All of the sudden I hear someone opening the wooden door behind and I pretend to still be asleep.\n\nI hear spurs clicking as the man, I am guessing, closes the wood door behind me. I also hear sloshing which maybe pig food or he is going refill the pigs trench of water. All of the sudden I am drenched in a splash and shake myself pretend awake.\n\n\"Time to get up drunk, your court hearing is in ten minutes.\" The older sounding man says to me. I turn around and gander upon my apparent warden. The man stands tall and strong dressed head to toe in black. Strapped to his right hip is a shiny black revolver. The revolver looks as new as the day it was made. The only thing of varying color is the silver star on his left chest. I narrow my eyes and read Arizona Territory Sheriff. I feel my heart drop, am I an outlaw in the old west? \n\n\"Where am I Sheriff?\" I ask still waking up and seeming still drunk from last night. \n\"Temporary jailing for Bisbee Sheriffs department. You're awaiting to see the judge after his breakfast for disturbing the peace.\" The Sheriff turns and spits a big pile of dip juice on the ground. \n\"That can't be Sheriff I am not even from around here. I don't remember anything from last night.\" I reply knowing that if I told him the truth of Mr. Magnifique he probably would have know idea what France is. \n\"The drink will do that to a man. Clearly you are not from around here because you tried to start a fist fight with Mr. Rider. You know that man pretty much owns this here town, and he don't take to kind to people from other places coming and starting a ruckus. Quite frankly neither do I, I got other things to worry about. I mean them Apaches out there keep raiding fine working folk. Outlaws, like yourself, keep coming into town scaring the women and children. Let's jus say I don't appreciate having to go down to saloon in the middle of the night and dragging your ass to the pen.\" Once again he turns and this time seems to spit more at me, like his disgusted with me. \n\"Sir.. Sheriff I assure you I meant no harm in whatever I did. I am sure if I went over and talked to Mr. Rider we could come to agreement of some kind.\" This time I spit to my side pretending to have a chaw in, I will not be out manned by this guy. \n\"Well good news, when Mr. Rider isn't at the saloon he has another job, and that is town judge.\"\n\nI walk into to the smallest courtroom I have ever seen. More of a small school room than a courtroom. Which is what it must be, because on the wall are copies of the Declaration of Independence and maps. I am seated in a single chair right in front of the judge. Judge Rider is another grey haired man with eyes of steel. Over his right eye was a white bandaged, which was bleeding through with what seemed like blood. His right eye was also black. He isn't even looking at me as I am shoved into my little chair. He finally puts his paper down, looks up and begins my hearing.\n\"Ah yes the super hero. Odd I see you last night at the tables gambling, and now here you are in front of me in court. What can you tell me about last night Mr. Magnifique?\" \n\"Not much man..I mean sir er judge sir. I don't have much recollection from last night. Let me say I am sorry to have offended you in anyway.\" I say starting to smell the booze pouring out of my skin. \n\"Well first off I have taken the victims testimony from events of last night. I am only here to mediate between the victim and yourself. Clearly you are not from around sir. Some place called France right? I don't know about law and order in whatever place you are from, but around here we follow the laws of the United States Government and the territory of Arizona. Last night good sir you drank to excess and found yourself down a lot of money. In doing so you approached our victim for a loan to win back some of your money. Soon after a loan was given to you, you lost all the money that was borrowed to you. When the victim approached you about your debt, you swung a full glass mug at him. In doing so you incapacitated said victim and proceeded to take his jacket, which you are currently wearing. How do you answer for these crimes?\" Finally some clarity on what all the fuss is about. I don't really even mind the charges, it is the question of am I the villain in this movie? How did I go from hero to zero in one day?\n\"I guess that is true. I have no way to refute what you say. By the way do I get a lawyer or no?\" I speak still thinking about my role in this western movie.\n\"No sir you declined the opportunity for a lawyer. If that is all you have to say then let us proceed to sentencing. I hereby find you guilty. I am putting you in to Bisbee Prison System and holding Sheriff Westfall accountable for your time there. The amount of time will be thirty days, in that time you will pay off your debt to Mr. Rider. Failure to do so will result in another thirty days of jail time. Court Dismissed.\" Judge Rider pronounces my sentence as if he is reading the Sunday paper. How unjust is this?\n\"But Judge sir how can I pay you the money I owe you if I will be in jail. I clearly don't have any source of money to pay off my debt. About that lawyer though?\" I say basically begging on my knees.\n\"There is nothing I can do son, the law is the law. Make sure you read up on it next time you decide to take a man's money. Sheriff take this man away please.\"\n\n"
] |
[
1,
1
] |
[
"1444510101",
"1444547643"
] |
|
[WP] Normally I bit my tongue. But these would be my last words, and they would be remembered forever.
| 2
|
[
"Last words?\n\nHarsh. That wasn't something I expected to have to give out anytime soon. I've been head of the local mob for years. How did it come to this? Big Red sold me out, of course. I knew I should've shattered him into bits years ago. I had a contingency plan to handle Big Red but I only ever told my son, Chris, my plan. I reminisced about the grandeur of my scheme.\n\nI was strapped to the electric chair for my heinous crimes against humanity. The hundreds of people my family slaughtered. All because Big Red got a little scared about one little investigation and ratted me out.\n\nA familiar face appeared out of the window. It was Chris. I understood that he had succeeded in the execution of Big Red. It was time for me to make my move.\n\nThe guard said, \"Actually, I'd rather not hear your last words. I'll just ask you this one thing. Are you sorry for what you did to all of those people?\"\n\nI unleashed the loudest bellowing roar I could muster...\n\n\"OH YEAH!\"\n\nThe body of Big Red came smashing through the wall of the compound attached to the arm of a crane. Big Red's body hit the floor and shattered into glass shards as red liquid spilled all over the floor. It was over. Those would be the last words of a cornered mob boss--I am free once again.",
"The pain in my side racks my brain, and I can't really think much more about what was going on. The only thing I can think about is how I will spend my last moments. I don't have much time left.\n\nThe fight had gone horribly, terribly wrong. Everything had just collapsed once they started streaming in from the hallways.\n\nIt was supposed to be a *discreet* mission. According to what I had been told, they weren't supposed to know we were even here. They were only supposed to know about the distraction in front.\n\nI fall to my knees, looking around at the room of death and destruction. My squad of fifteen men, the most highly trained agents in the world, were dying. They were putting up a good fight, but they were just as dead as I was.\n\nThe operation was supposed to be simple: sent in the 15 recon ops to steal the files while the distraction played out in front, and then get them out and retreat like we were never there. It was so simple. Foolproof, considering we had big shots up front to make the \"distraction\" more tantalizing. Heck, we'd even pulled out a couple of elite front line squads to try to buy more time.\n\nBut they found out. They somehow knew. They *knew* that we were there. They knew it was a distraction, and they somehow knew where we were supposed to be, and what we were supposed to do.\n\nMy gun clatters uselessly on the floor, blood spattered haphazardly on the handle and barrel. *My* blood.\n\nIt's then that I see a new figure enter the room. He's an authority figure, I can see that. From the way the men move to accommodate him, and the fact that he has guards, I can tell he's the leader of this operation.\n\nMy body, weak from both loss of blood and the searing pain on my left side and back, falls to the ground. It takes quite an effort to strain my head to see the face of the man who sentenced us to death.\n\nMy eyes start to blur, and I can tell I'm gone in about a minute. There's nothing left for me to do but try to catch a fleeting glimpse of the officer.\n\nWhen I do see his face, it mortifies me. There's no way I can possibly be mistaken, either. I would know that face better than any other person on the face of this planet would.\n\nNormally, I bite my tongue. I'm not the kind to spill secrets. I mean, I've worked in secret operations for years now. There's no way I'm going to spill any.\n\nBut this time is different. These would by my last words, and they would be remembered forever.\n\nUsing every last bit of energy I have in my body, I take in a deep breath and yell:\n\n\"FATHER! YOU LIED TO ME!\"\n\nThen everything goes black."
] |
[
1,
1
] |
[
"1444523744",
"1444524864"
] |
|
[WP] Nothing went as planned. Your partner's in critical condition, the Eskimo is on the loose, and Smokey Joe's Taco Joint still stands.
| 26
|
[
"I gave Herman a pat on the head. \"Everything's gonna be okay, buddy. I promise, within one week, we'll be the best taco place in town.\"\n\n\"Um, my head was severed from the rest of my body and this machine is probably going to be useless within ten minutes, at which point I will die an agonizing death. That doesn't sound very 'okay' to me.\"\n\nI slapped Herman angrily. \"Don't talk like that, you fool!\"\n\nHerman sort of died after I slapped him. I left the hospital pretty quickly after that. I had a good excuse, though: I had to go find the Eskimo. He was infected with rabies. I don't remember why I thought infecting him with rabies was a good idea aaaaand he just bit me. Crap.",
"\"Shit shit shit. Shit.\" Lucas paced back and forth. The plan failed horribly and there was no way to salvage another one. He looked at the door, only able to hear faint footsteps beyond the beeping of the many monitors and machines in the sterile darkened room. He looked back to Michelle, his fiance. This wasn't her fault and yet she was in trouble because of him. Lucas leaned over and kissed her forehead before he couldn't wait for the doctor or nurse any longer. The man quickly left and pulled out his cell phone to see if his friend, David knew where that damned Eskimo had run off to.\n\n\"Sir, no cell phones allowed-\" A blond nurse began to say.\n\n\"Have you ever lost an Eskimo, lady!?\" He snapped and looked up, face all too serious. \"He's probably confused and scared. It's like 100 degrees out there. Do you think he's gonna be in good shape huh?\" He saw no new messages or missed calls and just jogged down the hall to the elevator and pressed the button several times. His palms were sweaty and his heart rate was racing. The plan was to sabotage Smokey Joe's Taco Joint so that his own taco truck could take over the turf. He knew a friend up in Alaska who could send someone down to take some smack about the joint, the Eskimo named Aujaq, was going to pretend to be some old expert who knew the proper way to cook and prepare fish. Aujaq was going to make sure everyone knew that Smokey Joe's was a rip off.\n\nBut sadly when it came time to plan the Eskimo, the guy got distracted and wandered off. So of course Michelle being the angel that she was, went to go track him down. On the boardwalk, Aujaq wound up near a stand selling fried food. When he bite into his fried twinkie, it burned his mouth, he stumbled back and knocked it over. Lucas didn't know all the damned details but somehow his fiance ended up getting hit by a vat filed with hot oil. She was rushed to the hospital and the Eskimo ran off while his rival continued to get more and more customers. \n\nIt was insane.\n\nFinally in the hospital parking lot, Lucas found a cab and rode back to the boardwalk and began to look for the man who was thousands of miles from his home. \"Aujaq!\" He called out. Several tourists looked at him but Lucas paid no mind. \"Michelle is gonna be fine!\" He called out, though he really wasn't sure. He just needed to find the guy and make sure he was okay too. He felt guilty, foolish and a little bit hungry due to the strong aroma of fried dough in the sea breeze air. After twenty minutes David met up with him and as they made their fifth way around the beach front, they saw the Eskimo standing by Smokey Joe's Taco Joint, biting into a fish taco. \"Guess our plan is a bust.\" David patted his friend on the back. \"Sorry.\"\n\n\"Nah, it wasn't going to work anyway...I still lost thousands of dollars with the plane ticket and-\"\n\nSuddenly Aujaq started to cough and choke and threw down the taco. The man behind the counter, dick face Joe asked if he was alright. The Eskimo shook his head and began speaking in another language. A crowd began to form and David and Lucas made sure they weren't seen by Joe. Aujaq pointed his finger at Joe and declared, \"You sully the fish's life by mistreating it and wasting it.\" He frowned, finger trembling. \"You are a disgrace to your ancestors.\" He continued. \"You pile on horrible processed foods and flavors and then you take these people's money to fund your continued crimes against nature.\" He shook his head and looked down at the pile of taco at his feet. \"You have no respect for the food you serve nor the people you serve.\"\n\nThen he walked away and David hurried after him while Lucas took a second to smirk before going to catch up with the others. The three then went back to the hospital in David's old red Volvo while they continued to praise what Aujaq had done for them. \"Thanks again, I'm sure I'll be able to set up shop in no time at all.\" Lucas laughed as they arrived at the sixth floor where Michelle was. \"Tonight I'm gonna make a big dinner for you, man.\" As they walked down the hall, voices quieting down, the nurse from before looked up from her computer and had to do a double take.\n\n\"So you found your Eskimo.\" She said in disbelief. \"Is he alright?\"\n\n\"He's cool.\" David laughed as they headed into Michelle's room to see how her second degree burns were doing and what the damage was. The doctors said she could have been a lot worse and that it would take a few weeks and special treatment before she could start to feel well enough to go home. Lucas kissed her and that night, the four of them ate in her hospital room while they swapped stories and watched the local news, many people talking about the Eskimo. \"You should do an interview.\" David said as they wrapped up. The Eskimo shook his head and said he would be leaving soon. Lucas was just happy for the help and turned to his friend who would be helping him on the food truck.\n\n\"We'll name it Aujaq and the Taco Truck.\" Lucas said.\n\nThe other three just shook their heads as the night faded onward, their crazy plan somehow having worked after all. "
] |
[
1,
7
] |
[
"1444602051",
"1444601516"
] |
|
[WP] In my backyard, I found a(n)…
| 4
|
[
" Wander, slowly, through\n a back yard of an old house burned down by the shower\n of bullets,\n of a failed robbery,\n of a failed escape,\n a failed recovery.\n \n A tree stands, roots withered, bark gored with metal.\n An old knife carving. A heart, some names who haunt winds.\n \n Wrapping my ring finger was a memory. \n It was time to let this memory slip. \n It was time to let it sleep with the tree.",
"In my backyard, i found a used condom filled with shit. Now, this wasn't your ordinary condom. This wasn't your ordinary shit, either. The condom had a drawing of dickbutt, and for some odd reason, felt hairy. The shit was dry and rock-hard, with little flecks of corn and Cap'n Crunch. I took it to my friend Bob, who collects these sort of oddities. He immediately stuck his dick inside, only to have it fall right off. I called 911 right away, because if you lose your dick, your nipples become crusty and fall off if you dont get it back on again by sunset.\n\n\"And that's why I'm here,\" Said the man sitting next to me in the hospital waiting room. All of a sudden, he turns into a tampon with wings and flies out the window.\n\n\"...what the fuck just happened?!",
"In my backyard, I found a problem. It wasn't the cute, harmless kind of problem one normally finds in this area. It was a large, nasty problem. Somehow both hairy and scaly and let's not forget smelly.\n\nMy neighbor, Earl, was standing on his back porch.\n\n\"Look's like you've got a problem,\" he said. As far as I knew Earl had a beer can grafted to his hand--you never saw him without it. He was not an expert on many things, but he knew problems.\n\nI sighed heavily. \"You're right about that, Earl. Any suggestions?\"\n\nHe scratched his chin for a bit, couldn't come up with anything, and then scratched his belly.\n\n\"You could ignore it,\" he offered.\n\n\"Has that worked for you?\"\n\nEarl sipped at his beer. \"Can't say that it has. Not entirely anyway. Feels good for awhile.\"\n\n\"Isn't there someone who can take care of these things?\" I asked him.\n\n\"Well, the county has a program. Not sure it's very effective. They won't be able to get you booked for a month, and they don't always get to the root of it. They can probably make it look a little nicer though, cover up some of the smell.\"\n\nI studied my problem from head to toe. \"Doesn't look like it's going anywhere,\" I said hopefully.\n\n\"They're tricky like that,\" said Earl. \"You think if you leave them alone, maybe they won't follow you. Maybe you can just keep it in the corner and avoid it, not let your family out into the backyard. They always find a way though. You'll be clear off in another state and see your problem out the window, looking in, keeping you awake. But when you get back it's still in the corner, too. They aren't normal things.\"\n\nBy this point the problem had already grown larger. A new limb was sprouting from its chest.\n\n\"Will anything work?\" I asked.\n\nEarl walked over to the fence between us. He leaned on it heavily and motioned me over. When I was less than a foot from his face, he whispered hoarsely, \"Only one thing I've seen work. Haven't done it myself, you see. It can hurt something fierce.\"\n\nI looked back at the problem. Teeth and claws were multiplying rapidly. \"Well, I might try it, anyway. What do I do?\"\n\nEarl motioned with his beer, pushing it forward with emphasis. \"You've got to tackle it head on. Go in there with conviction and take what's due.\"\n\nI stood in silence for a minute.\n\nEarl pointed back at the house. \"Or you can come over, help me finish these.\"\n\n\"That sounds nice, Earl. No need to rush anything.\"\n\n"
] |
[
1,
1,
2
] |
[
"1444687564",
"1444691783",
"1444687350"
] |
|
[WP] To give his new song a mysterious/tribal vibe a famous pop/rap artist samples an old recording of a jungle tribe chant, not knowing those words have power. The song premiers tonight, at the Super Bowl halftime show.
| 56
|
[
"Kevin watched, transfixed, as the spectacle unfolded before him. The flashing lights, the fire shooting into the air, the dry ice creeping across the stage, the barely clothed dancers who moved in perfect unison - this was the coolest thing he'd ever seen in all his 10 years of life. \n\nHe'd been pretty excited when Dad told him he got them two tickets to the Super Bowl, but he'd screamed and jived and jumped for joy when he found out who was performing at the half time show. Tony Q, the #1 music act in the world. \n\nKevin couldn't enjoy Tony Q's music like other kids could. Kevin had been deaf since birth. Part of the reason he loved Tony Q's music so much was all the visual stuff that went into it. Tony Q was a world famous guitarist, but he had developed a style of dancing while shredding on the guitar. He would bend and drop and spin and slide, all in sync with the background dancers. Kevin wanted more than anything else in the world to be able to hear Tony's voice and guitar licks surround him in sonic harmony, but he knew that would never happen, and that was okay. At least he would get to see Tony Q perform live at the Super Bowl. That was enough for him. \n\nHe looked up at Dad, grinning ear to ear. Dad returned the smile. \n\n\"Whatcha think, Kev?\" Dad didn't say these words with his mouth - he said them with his hands because just like Kevin, Dad was deaf too. \n\n\"Best night ever.\" Kevin replied. \"Isn't he awesome?\"\n\nDad laughed. \"He sure is.\"\n\nKevin thought it was actually pretty lucky they could use sign language to talk to each other. Their seats were twelve rows up on the 50 yard line, so not only were they really close to the giant speakers that blasted sound he couldn't hear, but they were also surrounded by screaming fans. A sea of faces and bodies were all around them, but a few of the close ones stood out. In front of them, a big, bare-chested man with his face painted blue laughed and shouted and drank sloppily from a can of Budweiser. To the right, a group of teenagers passed a joint back in forth, giggling and singing along between drags. On the other side, a man and woman seemed less interested in the performance and more interested in taking selfies.\n\nThe song climaxed in a rain of fireworks and smoke. The crowd cheered and Kevin joined them, clapping his hands as hard as he could. Tony Q walked over and removed his guitar, placing it on a stand at the edge of the stage. Smiling, he raised a hand towards the crowd, pointing at them. The crowd seemed to react in unison, raising their hands and cheering again. Kevin tapped his Dad on the arm. \n\n\"Any idea what he saying?\" Kevin signed. \n\nDad shook his head. \"Nope. But I think I read he was going to premiere a new song tonight. Maybe he's asking if they want to hear it?\"\n\nKevin jumped up and down, excited. \"Oh my gosh I hope so! I heard he was working on a new album. Maybe we'll get to see him perform the single!\"\n\n\"Wouldn't that be something.\" Dad replied, and laughed. \n\nTony Q walked from one side of the stage to the other, pointing at the crowd on the other end. He repeated this, testing the enthusiasm of his fans. Finally, he was convinced: they wanted to hear the new song. He made his way to the center of the stage, and lifted both hands in the air. Lights started flashing, slow at first then faster and faster, until it was like a massive strobe light. Tony Q dropped his hands and the lights blazed bright. Fireworks shot into the air and Kevin could feel a new rhythm of bass drum against his chest. It felt different somehow, almost tribal. \n\nKevin was prepared to dance and jive to the music he could only feel but not hear, but something else happened. Something strange. Tony Q stood completely still, frozen in place. So did the back up dancers who only a moment ago seemed like they were about to burst with energy. The crowd was still too. What had been a torrent of crashing, jostling fans just ten seconds ago was now un-moving, like a stadium filled with statues. \n\nThe hair stood up on Kevin's neck. He looked at his Dad. \n\n\"What happened?\" he signed. \n\nDad shook his head. \"I don't know, Kev. Everyone just...stopped.\"\n\nThen, a jolt of pain shot through Kevin's head. He grabbed at his temples and gritted his teeth. Dad must've felt it too, cause Kevin caught a glimpse of him doubled over, holding his head. The pain was so intense that for a moment, Kevin forgot about the strangeness of the statuesque crowd around him. Part of him wondered if he was going to pass out, but the rest of him just tried to hold on. After what felt like an eternity the pain ebbed away, gradually subsiding until it was gone. \n\nThat's when all hell broke loose. \n\nWhen the new song first started it was like something in the crowd had been turned off. They went from cheering and singing to nothing at all. Now, something in the crowd had been turned on, something deep and dark and primal. Something blood thirsty. \n\nAll around them people began attacking those that were nearest to them. Kevin watched in horror as the pot-smoking teenagers turned on each other. One boy in a Nirvana T-shirt grabbed the girl nearest to him around the throat, trying to choke the life out of her. He was bigger than she was, but the girl fought back, using her black finger nails to claw at his face and eyes. Kevin could see but not hear the boy scream as pieces of his cheeks were stripped off, and blood gushed from his punctured right eye. Another teen, this one with gauged ears and a \"HALO 5\" beanie used a ball point pen as a knife, stabbing one of his friends repeatedly in the stomach. \n\nKevin turned away from the carnage only to see the couple who had been taking selfies a moment before. The woman knelt over the crumpled corpse of her companion, ignoring the chaos all around her. For a moment Kevin thought she was crying, but then she raised her head, looking at him. The body below her was missing a huge chunk of flesh from the side of the neck. Blood dripped from her mouth and ran down her chin. The woman smiled, chewed and returned to her feast.\n\nThen something hit Kevin and he fell into the aisle. He looked up to see the bare-chested men from before, looming over him. The man was a walking nightmare. His blue-painted face was now streaked red with blood, and a giant gash ran from his shoulder down to his belly button. Part of Kevin's mind registered that he could see guts, or muscle or something bloody spilling out from that gash, but he dismissed the thought as useless almost immediately. This man was going to kill him. He was going to EAT him. He tried to call for Dad, but nothing escaped his mute lips except a terrified moan. Grinning, the bare-chested man reached for him. \n\nThen, in a flash, the bare-chested man disappeared from view. Kevin leaped to his feet and saw Dad struggling with him on the ground. Dad was on top, punching and grabbing with all his strength, but the bare-chested man was bigger and fueled by the demonic music. He punched back, bloodying Dads nose and lips. For a moment Kevin just watched, too terrified to think let alone move. Then something in him snapped to attention. I have to help Dad, he thought frantically, or we're gonna die here.\n\nIf you die here, part of him warned, they're going to eat you. \n\nHe turned, looking for something, anything they could use as a weapon but there was nothing. Beer cans, plastic wrappers and popcorn containers were littered about, but nothing he could use to hit someone. All around him people were either fighting or feasting on the bodies of the dead. He took one more look at Dad, and ran down the aisle towards the football field. He went as fast as he could but was careful to avoid the puddles of blood and piles of viscera that littered the steps. Someone grabbed at his arm but he wrenched it away, not even pausing to look back. At a run, he climbed over the barrier and dropped onto the grass below. \n\nHis eyes darted left to right. The field was littered with the dead and dying, and hundreds more were clawing, punching and strangling each other. The half-time show stage was about 20 feet in the front of him, and Kevin's traumatized mind wondered if Tony Q was dead. He quickly scanned the stage and that's when he saw it. Still in its stand, sitting on the edge of the stage, was Tony Q's guitar. \n\nKevin ran faster than he ever had in his life. He bolted up the stairs, grabbed the guitar and slung it over his shoulder. He leaped from the stage and a moment later, climbed back over the barrier. Sprinting up the aisle, he took the stairs three at a time, desperate to get there before it was too late. His blood turned to ice as he saw that the bare-chested man was now on top of Dad, choking him. Kevin pulled the strap off his shoulder and gripped the guitar like a baseball bat. With all the strength he could muster, he brought it down on the bare-chested man's head. A shock ran through Kevin's hands, but he didn't care. Blood splattered on his face and eyes, but he swung the guitar again and again, and each time was met with a satisfying crunch. \n\nThe bare-chested man went limp and fell over. Gasping, Dad scrambled to get to his feet. His nose was bloody, there was a gash over his right eye, and one of his front teeth was splintered from a punch to the mouth. \n\nKevin hugged him, but only briefly. Dad looked at him, using his hands to communicate. \n\n\"We have to leave. Follow me.\"\n\nKevin nodded and handed Dad the guitar. They ran up the aisle, leaving the bare-chested man lying in a pool of his own blood. By now most of the crowd had either been killed or was busy feasting on the flesh of the dead. A snarling woman in a uniform tried to grab Kevin when they passed the concessions stand, but two hits from Dad's guitar left her with a broken jaw and a caved in chest. \n\nThey kept running until the death, destruction and Tony Q's new single were far behind them. At least Kevin came out of it with a cool souvenir. ",
"My dearest Elise,\n\nI know this letter shall never reach you. I know that you are dead, or worse. Yet I must channel my thoughts and gather them together if I am to attempt to comprehend what I fear to be that which is fundamentally incomprehensible. For you and I both now know of the gibbering madness woken from its slumber beyond the...shit, I'm getting dramatic. I know you hated that about me. Sorry.\n\nLet me start over.\n\nIt started with a phone call. Kenya East - you know who I'm talking about, the self-proclaimed \"greatest artistic genius of our generation\" - needed to speak with a consultant. That was unusual. As an anthropological linguist, I've worked on various projects in Hollywood, creating fictional languages or re-imagining dead ones, but I'd never worked with a musician. I mean, when's the last time you've heard someone belt out lyrics in Dothraki?\n\nI met him at his mansion. His manservant greeted me at the front door and led me to a waiting room. It was indeed a waiting room. I waited and waited, my patience wearing thin. Finally, as I was about to leave, Kenya East burst through the doors. \n\nHe wasn't quite what I expected.\n\n\"My apologies, my apologies! I did not mean to keep you waiting. You must be Mr. Blackwood, correct? I am Mr. East, of course, although if you prefer you may call me Kenya. Now, I hate to be rude, but I'm afraid we must dispense with the formalities, for I have a show scheduled at the Super Bowl in several hours and I have a plane to catch...but I'm babbling. My apologies.\" \n\nI stared at him for several long moments. \"Um...you're not quite what I...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" he said, dismissively waving his hand, \"I'm far more articulate than most people expect. Image, Mr. Blackwood, image is deceptive and we are victims to our expectations. I play a role in my professional life, in much the same way a shaman in the Pacific Northwest may don frightening masks while driving away the spirits. Let us set aside our masks, Mr. Blackwood, and simply converse as two well-educated men.\"\n\n\"Um...\" \n\nHe sighed. \"I do hope your advice will be more profound than 'um'. I understand you are something of an expert on proto-languages?\" \n\nI gathered my thoughts and cleared my throat. \"That's right, um, Mr. East. I've created several fictional languages and...\" \n\n\"Yes, thank you, I know. But there is one real language in particular which interests me. A...certain universal language, found in the ruins of our earliest civilizations, as well as a few surviving yet dwindling aboriginal tribes.\"\n\nI hesitated. I knew what he was talking about. I had investigated this very topic, but it isn't the kind of thing you openly discuss if you want to survive in academia. ",
"\"...and what a surprisingly better performance than expected from GWAR! They've really managed to wow the audience with their 'blood' cannons.\"\n\n\"And how about the 'animal sacrifice' there John, I saw them back in 2015 and quite frankly I was worried they would use the same tired gags and props without trying anything new. If I didn't know any better I'd swear that was a real boar!\"\n\n\"Absolutely Kevin, new props, new music GWAR really pulled all stops to make this halftime show a real show stopper.\"\n\n\"Now we go back to the game as the Detroit lions take the field, OOP! The quarterback has slipped on some of the fake intestine that snaked around the field from the show, guess they could've done a better job setting up for the game again. He's getting up and he seems to be fine, if a bit tangled.\"\n\n\"Now John, it seems as if the fake intestine are winding around all the players and dragging them into a huddle, this is most unusual. Do you think its a continuation of GWARs performance.\" \n\n\"It may very well be, it seems the players are melding together now into an unholy mountain of flesh. I tell you Kevin if this delays the game any further we might have to sell some more advertising slots ahhaha.\"\n\n\"Hahaha... OK John they seem to be standing as one now, the referee is signaling for the play to commence. Did he have horns, hooves and eighteen eyes earlier?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, but I for one am glad that the NFL has found a referee who isn't blind. The Lions have the ball and they snap it to... Themselves. This is really tough to call but it appears they are wading through the Cowboys and merging them with their mass as they make their way to the forty, the thirty, the twenty! The ten! Its a touch down! They aren't stopping. They've stepped into the stands. They are literally bringing the fans into the game! They lions have grown to fifty foot tall and are devouring the audience. Never in my life have I ever seen this, this is NFL history, Kevin what do you- Kevin! KEVIN GET BACK HERE WE HAVE A CONTRACT!\""
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[WP] Describe a color by using the five senses (taste, touch, sight, sound, smell) but don't say the name of the color.
| 28
|
[
"It tastes mostly sweet but kind of sour. It sounds sad yet oddly uplifting. It feels cold, but looks like a warm summer day. ",
"Sweet, yet meaty.\nSilky, and smooth.\nBright and beautiful.\nA heavenly noise.\nScent of youthful joy.\n\n",
"What’s in a name? You might just as well ask what isn’t in one. Names have power, as do words. Some colors have power, too. Power to hurt and to heal. Power to describe and obscure.\n\nHow do you describe something that isn’t? A color that can feel cold and sterile one moment and warm and welcoming the next? That can taste of cold and ice and sky, or a sweet creaminess … of bitterness, or blandness? \n\nThat smell you sometimes smell in colder climes on a gray and threatening morning might just as easily be described as the smell of a warm tropical afternoon at the ocean’s edge. Or the comforting aroma of an eagerly anticipated night’s rest when you turn down the blankets after a weary day.\n\nWe hear it every day as well … and yet we don’t. It speaks to us in a million competing voices, much like life itself. And like life itself, we know it’s there yet find it almost impossible to focus on, and we let it wash over us instead, unheeded.\n\nOur eyes can be just as easily fooled. It’s life in some places … death in others. Hospitals and newborns and nurses … or the bandage, not yet stained with lifeblood. The silence of the shroud. \n\nSome words have power, and some colors do too. What can you make of a color that can stand for much that is perceived to be wrong with the world? Imbalances and assumptions. Unspoken slights and unexamined satisfaction. \n\nAnd all this fuss over something that is nothing.",
"Winter underfoot\n\nA face forever silent\n\nPen and ink to page",
"The taste is one of richness, a flavor few can afford. \n\nIt feels like soft velvet, but strong, thought it will be luxurious for eternity. \n\nIt looks striking, setting apart common people from those with status. \n\nIts sound has a deep bass line, like a low brass chorus, but suddenly erupts into fanfare when it becomes brighter. \n\nIt smells musky, like a fine cologne, but with subtle hints of ingredients bearing a hefty price tag.",
"The taste of fine wine, glazing the tongue in a bittersweet explosion.\n\nThe sight of roses in bloom, vibrant and luminescent adorned in crytalline dews.\n\nA whiff of sweet and tangy, from a tomato sauce simmering in a pan.",
"Kinda bitter but also with a scent of sourness as an aftertaste.\nFeels like a jello.\nIt radiates envy.\nSounds like a train, underwater.\nHas a light smell of dusty air.",
"The taste of salt. Cool crisp, and smooth on the tongue. Sounds below my hearing resonate from deep within. My eyes are open, and I see nothing and everything in it. ",
"It smells like poison\nIt tastes like garbage\nIt feels very viscous, almost like dipping your fingers in honey\nIt sounds deep, like a void",
"Taste - It taste like an Orange\n\nTouch - Feels rough skin of an Orange\n\nSight - Looks like an Orange\n\nSound - Fizzing Orange\n\nSmell - Smells like an Orange",
"Everything is FUCKED. The walls groan and holy shit, I think Jimmy fucking PISSED himself! Get the fuck back up and put your uniform on!\n\nMilitary green.",
"It feels like soft and firm at the same time. A bit springy if you push it hard enough, but it isn't something that would break your fall if you were to fall on it from a twenty storey building.\n\nIt sounds like music that would be right at home at a beach party. It is energetic and gets you going.\n\nIt smells relaxing. Calming. Even medicinal at times. Let's just say it wouldn't be out of place if you found it in an aromatherapy burner.\n\nIt tastes delicious. Sometimes acidic, sometimes bitter. \n\nIt looks like how a ball of gas from Earth on certain days - bright and shining fiercely. Some would even say a rabbit's favorite treat.",
"Tastes salty, minty and creamy. Its icy and cold to the touch yet inviting and spongey. It looks like summer and rain. Smells like fresh linen and your favourite bubble bath.",
"Twisted and tangy, it coats the inside of my mouth, it's aroma permeating every pore. As my hands pass through it, it resists, just slightly. It is silent, and brings silence with it. As I stare, I see what came before and what will come after. In it, all is absent.",
"A taste of unnatural goods, both poison and sweet, of lack of control and yet security.\n\nTouching it brings unnatural patterns, sludgy but not sticky, like a nebula.\n\nIt looks like the human mind, with grotesque aberrations and yet beauty in its complexity.\n\nThe sounds it makes are warped and twisted, with the beat of a five-crotchet sonata.\n\nIt smells like flowers, but the smell is almost sickly sweet. Not quite, however. ",
"I wrote this like two years ago (and looking at it again made me want to see other people's ideas)\n\nThe best way for me to describe this color, is that it’s like an adventure. Partly foreboding and mysterious, but also enticing and full of wanderlust. \n\n**Smell:** The smell of pine after it rains. The sweet, cloying scent of passing under rotting vegetation. The sharp, dank stench of skunk (though it might be pot) as I walk pass a clearing. \n\n**Sound:** The clacking of dice that land on the highest numbers. A silent cheer when the enemy is gone. But there’s an absence of sound as well, except for my too loud footsteps cracking twigs and thudding against gravel, dirt and stone. \n\n**Sight:** The stone steps woven with moss toward the end of the Ben Burr Trail. A path that curves out of view, trees like arches, bidding me see what’s at the end. Sunlight speckling the ground through the leaves in an insincere attempt to assure a cautious traveler that there is nothing malicious in the woods.\n\n**Touch:** The prickling on the back of my neck-the unease rippling over my skin as if I just dived into lake water-as I pause my music because I know the underlying, rumbling growl I just heard did not come from my earphones. I brush my fingers over the smooth, worn edge of my pocket knife’s casing. Ready to flip open the blunt, practically useless blade. \n\n**Taste:** The bitter taste of excitement at the back of my tongue souring into fear. The kind of taste I get from sitting towards the front of a rollercoaster, teetering over the edge of the first hill. Or when I convinced my friend to enter the haunted house with me, and after the first eerie noise I begin to realize I have greatly erred. \n\nTo me, none of that’s a bad thing. It’s part of what makes an adventure interesting. What’s the point of doing anything if there’s no threat of losing? What’s the purpose of anything it’s not fantastical like trying to find the realm of the fae. Or a cave hidden amongst thick, choking musty vines that could lead to a city of gold? Life can be full of adventure, big and small, if one simply goes out and looks for them. \n",
"As I touched it I could feel it burn,\n\nI could taste the power this colour bestowed in the air,\n\nJust looking at it gave me a feeling of both fear and *love*,\n\n___________________________________________________\n\ncan you guess which colour I was describing.\n\n"
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Are we in a sci-fi setting, with alien civilizations dealing with the re-emergence of humanity? Is this post apocalyptic, and the neighbors are other humans whose ancestors sought different shelter? Is this even about a single extremely isolationist culture bringing itself back into the "normal" world? Are the differences physical, with humans now being huge, genetically engineered juggernauts? Are we now lanky and pale from centuries underground? Are the differences social, with whole new cultures springing up from the hidey-holes of humanity? What would form taboos, how would subjective morality differ? New ideas on religion and philosophy, whole new languages? The English of today is different from the English of six centuries ago, after all. I've had a solid week of brainstorming about this, and I'd like to see what people who aren't me come up with.
|
[WP] Humanity emerges from centuries of seclusion, to find themselves and their neighbors vastly different than they remember.
| 13
|
[
"The Human Isolate was not a construct of its inhabitants' devising. It was a prison sentence - Humanity had transgressed some interstellar law. Humanity could not recall what they had done, or whether they had ever known at all. They assumed that their crime had involved nuclear aggression, but all they knew for certain was that their punishment deprived them of the technology to manufacture negative matter. Without that vital stabilizing substance, their methods of superluminal travel became impossible, restricting Humanity to its home system. Their isolation would last as long as it took them to discover a new way to circumvent the speed of light.\n\nMost species would break - repent - confess - beg for re-admittance to galactic civilization. But Humans are persistence hunters; they evolved to pursue their prey relentlessly until it collapsed from exhaustion. They no longer hunt, but their persistence is still remarkable. Their homeworld orbited their sun 500 times before they hit upon a novel method of defying relativity, by which time their languages had drifted and mutated so much they were practically incomprehensible even to the dedicated Human-translation machines..\n\nHumanity itself had changed drastically during their isolation. Their drive to find a way around the speed of light without the use of negative matter had accelerated their already impressive technological growth; they achieved Kardashev I classification during their seclusion. Even their physiology was radically altered, dividing into two distinct species - one suited to planetary surfaces and upright ambulation, and another adapted for freefall and microgravity.\n\nWithout suitable planets for colonization, Humanity had, without a second thought, wiped out all lifeforms in their system outside their homeworld. They completely \"terraformed\" no fewer than three planets and seven moons within their own system, obliterating any native microbes. Biology was of no concern to a species dedicated to hyperspatial engineering. Even these huge habitable areas became overpopulated, leading to an technological arms race between machine and human labor - who could work cheaper, faster, better. Even heavily-augmented human laborers were no match for the machines, with which the laborers eventually merged to form a third species.\n\nHumans before the formation of the Isolate valued \"life\" - continuation of the self - above all else. After the Isolate, \"life\" meant nothing to them - sentience was commonplace, easily created and destroyed. Even most material goods meant nothing to a species capable of fabricating anything lighter than iron out of energy. Humanity became a pragmatic species, valuing nothing but heavy elements and information.\n\n---\n\nBut the galaxy had not stagnated in humanity's absence.\n\n---\n\nWhen the ship appeared out of nowhere inside the Galactic Senate's Subluminal Zone, there was alarm and confusion. Its technology was incomprehensible, its design unfamiliar. The confusion increased as the translators identified its electromagnetic transmissions as conforming to archaic Human formats like Morse and ASCII. But the Humans on board were even more confused.\n\nThis was not the Galactic Senate they had left. The C'tfnskk, an ancient race and a staple of the Senate for millenia, were nowhere to be found. The upstart Jelkath had risen to a place of power and respect, while several species that had held power during Humanity's time had sunk to low ranks or been discharged altogether. The records of Humanity's crime had been lost, while many species warred violently or committed other acts that would have warranted isolation when Humanity had been a member of the Senate. Old trade partners locked their borders, while many others tried constantly to steal super-advanced Human technology.\n\nThey did not take the change well.\n\nHumanity no longer governs itself. Its isolation turned out to render it an even greater threat. Sol and its outlying colonies are now controlled by the Zrag'vett, who make a profit teaching other species the secrets of Human technology. Humans themselves have achieved what their ancestors would have considered Utopia, with one exception.\n\nThe Galactic Senate remains firmly the seat of power in the Milky Way. Alliances against it are no match for the Zrag'fett and their ultimate weapon - Humanity.",
"The current year is 2324. \n\nHumanity used to look upon the starts and wonder if they were alone. Three centuries ago they no longer needed to wonder. They were not alone, in fact the universe was teeming with more life than what one could possibly imagine. Unfortunately, most of the life was not friendly.\n\nFirst came the Malaari, in the form of refugees. Members of the Malaari Covenant they were displaced by an ongoing war with the Din'Chirak.\n\nThe Malaari people were deeply religious, heeding the guidance of their living prophet, known simply as 'The Immortal' for while their species only live sixty to seventy human years, he has live 30 thousand. Appearance wise they look not all to different from the concepts of the grays. However unlike that concept they really were not all that more technologically advanced than humans. They hadn't even adopted the transistor, and instead relied on vacuum tubes. It was hard for some to believe they were capable of space flight, let alone at the height of their power reigned over dozens of star systems. \n\nThe Din'Chirak had seen to that their influence had waned. Giant bugs. Some smaller than humans, others as big as a small house. Commanding huge numbers and appearing to utilize a hive mind they were a fearsome thought. Luckily, at the time, they were lead by a single being. Yelkaza, or 'The Dark Prophet' as the Malaari referred to him. He apparently thought himself a god, and did not appreciate The Immortals existence. The Veracity of such claims are unknown. In any event they seemed to target the Malaari with exclusivity. \n\nThe people of earth were hesitant to welcome the new comers to earth. Some were xenophobic, others feared what their religious views might bring. But several nations viewed them as a way to get technological advancement ever so slight as it may be. The Malaari refugees were more than willing to integrate, and their religion of Maari was similar enough to Abrahamic religions they spouted new offshoots. \n\nShortly after came the Vaynar. A coalition of species. The first being a draconian humanoid species, whose noteworthy traits were wings that allowed them to fly short distances, and their incredibly long life of around one hundred and twenty thousand years. But they were the minority. Another species was perplexing, they almost appeared human or at least related to their cousins the neanderthals, except they featured long pointy ears, and like the draconians had a long life, though of only around six hundred human years. \nThe final was a synthetic artificial intelligence species of androids, that apparently a Malaari scientist had created after he had defected from the empire centuries prior. \n\nThe Vaynar called their leader Emperor Velik. Those of this coalition that on earth made it abundantly clear they were suspicious of Malaari presence on Earth. The Malaari empire had invaded their home world several centuries prior while they were technologically deficient. They had been emancipated in part due to the Din'Chiraks involvement, though they were in gearing up for their own revolt anyways. Whatever Yalkaza's reasons for helping them remains another unknown.\n\nThis sparked a brutal world war on earth, between factions who allied with the Malaari, those that allied with the Vaynar, and those that wanted to remain neutral and independent. Almost boiling over into nuclear war, however the Vaynar brought in heavy ballistic systems that proved more than capable of shooting down any radioactive warhead launched. \n\nThis war lasted almost half a century, costing more than a billion lives world wide. It was finally brought a end after what is shall be known as the \"Malaar Invasion'. \nThe Din'Chirak lead remotely by the Dark Prophet had pushed through Malaari territory and were in the process of invading the Homeworld of Malaar. At the same time and unknown group, loosely affiliated with the Vaynar, but not directed by their government found their way deep within Din'Chirak territory. Details are unknown, but Yelkaza was slain. \n\nWithout Yelkaza guiding them, the bug went into a frenzy. While before they had been content to attack the Melaari and leave everyone else along, they no longer held this ideal. They wanted to consume everything. And their numbers were far greater than anyone thought possible. They spread across the galaxy like locusts.\n\nThe only saving grace was the insects were highly inefficient in combat, preferring to swarm their enemies and utilize organic weapons, such as stingers, claws and acid. But they came as a torrent, with no end in sight.\n\nSeveral human factions on Earth had managed to establish colonies outside the solar system, however contact with them and the two alien factions was lost.\n\nHumanity once again found themselves alone, cut off from the rest of the galaxy.\nAny Vaynar Personal still stationed on the planet found themselves stranded. \n\nAs the Din'Chirak poured into the solar system the human factions fought of their advancement they best they could, but they were slowly being pushed back towards earth.\n\nNot long after the event, a dozen or so Malaari vessels found their way through the storm to earth. Aboard were what was left of the Imperial fleet, and the Immortal himself. They had fled Malaar with a thousands ships carrying millions of lives, they were all that was left.\n\nThe immortal brought grave news. Malaar had fallen, the Malaari Empire was no more.\n\nThis hit everyone, Malaari, Human and Vaynar hard. Realization set in, the Din'Chirak didn't just want to cripple or topple governments. They wanted to eradicate. To lose to them meant extinction. While some might suspect this may come as a discouragement, the people of earth took this as a war drum, a call to arms.\n\nThe earth powers absolved there power, in favor a one world government. Sure there were resisters, but what authority, or material wealth in comparison to total annihilation. \n\nA new era of human history was established. Though some hated to admit it, this situation was the best thing that could happen. As resources were funnelled towards defense the gap between the rich and poor began to shrink. Since every able bodied human might need to be called upon to fight, proper food distributions were established to make sure no one went hungry.\n\nThis however put a strain on food supplies. No longer could grain be wasted on livestock, and was better suited feeding those on the front lines. Cow became a luxury no one could afford, instead alternative meat sources were found. Hamsters, guinea pigs and insect found there way as main staples of diets.\n\nOther luxuries past generations enjoyed could no longer be afforded, such as televisions, person computers and even at points electricity for residential areas. \n\nThe human race was determined to survive. And they did. For two and half centuries they fought on. In that time they not only managed to stop the Din'Chirak advancement, but even managed to push them back out of the solar system. But moving any further was impossible.\n\nNear the end of this period of Isolation, the immortal called for expedition. He for whatever reason knew he had to reach Vaynar territory. Grateful for his guidance over the centuries, the people of earth provided him as much resources as they could muster, and he departed into the unknown, taking with him most of the Malaari left on the planet and almost as many humans. \n\nThey were never seen from again.\n\nSeveral years after his departure, one day the Din'Chirak stopped attacking. \n\nFive years later, a Vaynar Warship arrived in the Solar System. They brought both good and tragic news.\n\nThe Immortal had made it to Vaynaar territory. He along with much of the Vaynaar fleet had pushed into Din'Chirak territory locating a mind nexus. The Immortal, his entire expedition and many Vaynar lives had sacrificed their lives taking them out. \n\nLike a hydra, they had cut off its head. And thousands of head had spawned, each competing for control. The Din'Chirak were now more willing to fight each other than other factions. The storm was over.\n\nRumors spread however, that the Immortal had not sacrificed his life, but instead had tried to rest control of the insects for himself, but had failed. Such claimed were outright denied by the Vaynar government.\n\nHumanity was once again able to reach the stars again. \n\nThe Vaynar were still as strong as ever. Though they had lost much of their military in taking down the Nexus, it was mostly their synthetics who had taken the brunt.\n\nThe Malaari Empire was indeed gone. The Din'Chirak still held Malaar, and their was talk of reclaiming it for the Malaari people. But the settlements that had survived the devastation seemed more interested in fighting for power and trying to take the place of the theocratic throne. They also seem willing to blame the Vaynaar for the loss of their leader.\n\nInteresting enough one of the Human settlements established prior had managed to live through the devastation. Though they would hardly be recognizable as humans. They had altered themselves, adopting Din'Chirak genetics into their own. They seem ambivalent to earth survival.\n\nWhat does the future hold for humanity. A common enemy managed to unite them, managed to push them forward. With that gone, will they descend into anarchy, or will they push forward and establish an empire to compete with the Vaynar.\n\nOnly time will tell.\n\n\nEdit: My apologize if the structure is sub par, this is one of my first times responding to a writing prompt. Also my apologize for any spelling or Grammatical mistakes.\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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1,
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[WP] You have a time-travelling phone. This means you can call anyone in the past or future, provided you have the correct phone number.
| 3
|
[
"\"You have a time travelling phone. This means you can call anyone in the past or future, provided you have the correct phone number.\"\n\n(the director was sitting upright in his chair, with one leg over the other, a script in one hand and nothing in the other because he had lost it the great camera collapse of 2002 so sometimes he wore a hook but today he was too lazy to put it on)\n\n\"So...I'm a time traveler?\"\n\n(Tom Cruise gave a blank stare at the director)\n\n(he was confused)\n\n(then he took a quick selfie because his hair looked fantastic)\n\n\"No no no no... You are a normal guy who acquires a phone that can call anyone from any time.\"\n\n(the director seemed a bit distressed)\n\n(he thought Tom would buy into his idea right away)\n\n\"But...no...what? Henry, did you even think about this script? I mean, come on. What the hell man!\"\n\n(Tom was visibly upset)\n\n(he could be adopting more kids with his super hot wife but instead he was stuck here with this, this...amateur director)\n\n\"What! What's wrong with it?\"\n\n(Henry the one handed director threw up his arms, showing his impressive pit stains)\n\n\"First off, how does my character even get this thing? And second, why would anyone want to use this device?\"\n\n(Tom was an actor, which meant he was good looking, which meant he could say anything he wanted and usually get away with it)\n\n(but right now, he had an honest point)\n\n\"Tom, listen, baby; this is a movie! Anything can happen!\"\n\n(the director was planning on talking some more but Tom raised his voice and stood up out of his chair as though he were a four year old protesting after being forced to eat vegetable)\n\n\"You listen to me Henry! What if the phone number changes! WHO DOES IT CALL HENRY? DO I TALK TO TWO PEOPLE AT ONCE? NO THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE HENRY! EVEN SCIENCE FICTION NEEDS TO MAKE SOME SORT OF SENSE!\"\n\n(instead of sitting back down, Tom continued to stand up)\n\n(he was fuming)\n\n(not only was he pissed about the half-assed script, the hissy fit he just threw messed up his perfect hair)\n\n(you never mess with Tom Cruise's hair)\n\n\"But Tom-\"\n\n\"I'LL COME BACK IF YOU WRITE SOMETHING BETTER!\"\n\n(and with that corny last line, Tom Cruise stormed out of the building)\n\n(as he left, he gently pushed down his chair, because he was really really mad but he did not want to break the chair, because that would be impolite)\n\n\"Uh, yeah, it's me, Tom didn't like the script\"\n\n(the director had his cell phone up to his ear and he made a wincing face as though he were preparing for an explosion)\n\n(or in this case, preparing to get bitched at)\n\n\"TELL HIM TO GET HIS ASS BACK IN THERE AND MAKE THE GOD DAMN MOVIE OR ELSE HE'S FIRED!\"\n\n(this dude on the phone, whoever he was, did not appreciate Tom's exit)\n\n\"He said he wouldn't do the movie if he kept this scri-\"\n\n\"FUCK TOM, WE ARE THE ONE'S PAYING HIM TO DO THE MOVIE SO HE BETTER DO WHAT WE TELL HIM!\"\n\n(Henry scratched his beard nervously with the nub at the end of his arm)\n\n(he was flustered)\n\n\"What if we just...Changed the script? I mean, Tom's not the first to walk out on th-\"\n\n\"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?\"\n\n(oh fuck)\n\n(^ Henry said to himself while he tried his best not to piss in his new pair of boxer briefs)\n\n\"I said w-\"\n\n\"I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT WE AGREED ON WHEN WILL SMITH LEFT? WE WEREN'T GOING TO CHANGE THE SCRIPT\"\n\n\"I know but-\"\n\n\"BUT WHAT? THERE ARE NO BUTS!\"\n\n(Henry began to tremble as the man on the phone sighed)\n\n(a few moments of silence went by)\n\n\"You're fired\"\n\n(a tear began to form in Henry's eye after the man hung up)\n\n(he began to wipe it off with his nub until he felt that something wasn't right)\n\n(he felt a little...)\n\n(wet)\n\n(he looked down and saw that his camo pants were soaked around his crotch)\n\n\"Awww hell, I have to walk home today too.\"",
"-Hello, Son. I've been expecting your call all day.\n\n-You never called me son before, Dad... I'm sorry, I meant to say \"thanks for answering\".\n\n-Why wouldn't I? It's all I have left to do since you...\n\n-Alright, Dad. Let's talk about how my experiment went.\n\n-Well, it went awful. I'm depressed every day, feeling like I'm somewhere I shouldn't be. Every little thing makes me lose my orientation. I'm struggling to speak right in this very moment.\n\n-Do... do you want me to cancel the project, then?\n\n-Yes, please. If you will.\n\n-But I invested so much money in it... even what was left of your chemo saving after you chose to quit treatment.\n\n-Whatever. Keep the phone idea if you want investors, just give up on the other thing. You have so much potential, I just don't want you to live in regret like I'm doing right now, wishing to vanish any second now...\n\n-I'm... I'm so sorry to disappoint you, Dad.\n\n-Don't worry, Son. I only remember things I rummage through my mind every day. The letters you wrote me last year, telling me you'd call today... but I barely remember your mom. I barely even remember your name\n\n-That's because you told me to hide my identity.\n\n-That's ok, the technology is ready now, I doubt it could be sabotaged. Just, please, give it up on the...\n\n-Alright, Dad. Please don't bring it up again, I won't pitch it to the investors.\n\n-Just call me on June 28, that date I remember. Tell me what I rarely heard. Tell me you love talking to me, tell me you're grateful for all I did to get you where you are. Most importantly, tell me you love me.\n\n-June 28? You mean last month? That's when I called you at the Home.\n\n-Yes, and you hung up. It's ok if you haven't seen me in five years. I was still happy to hear from you when they proposed to resuscitate me after the cancer did me in. I promise I won't get mad if you don't have an opening sentence.\n\n-It's... ok, dad. I'll call you now. I was just... thinking about you, and I wanted to hear you one last time.\n\n-You will. Just, call me then. I can go now that you called me. I am *always* happy when you call me. Always will be...\n\n-Bye, dad. I... I love you.\n\n-I love you too.\n\n...\n\n..\n\n.\n\n-Hello, Dad?\n\n-Hi, Miranda. How's my little girl, doing?\n\n-I'm fine... now.\n\n-Did you give up on becoming a man, already?\n\n-Haha... yeah... I just called to tell you that I love... I love you, and I appreciate everything you did... ever. You're a great dad.\n\n-Aw, you little rat... I mean, you little mouse. Whoops, trigger word! Haha. You're just saying that because I'd rather give you my savings to finish up those projects of yours than dying slowly and painfully with this... useless medicine.\n\n-Yea, that's... that's about it.\n\n-You seem awfully quiet, Mim.\n\n-I'm just... struggling to speak right in this very moment.\n\n-Don't be silly, I'll be here for a while now, you can call me anytime.\n\n-I will, dad. I will.\n\n...\n\n..\n\n.\n\n**This line is now disconnected**\n\n\"I will call you anytime.\"",
"\"Hi Love!\" She said, her breath a little short. She was probably walking home.\n\n\"Hi Darling.\" I said. \"Just checking up on you, wanted to see how you were doing.\" \n\n\"I've only been gone for a couple of hours, Matt, it's not like I went to Fiji or something.\" She chuckled to herself. \"I've just popped to the shops on the way back, got a couple of things for the party tomorrow.\" \n\n\"Ooh, nice. Like what?\"\n\n\"Just some crisps, drinks, stuff like that. I also got a bottle of that cider you like, because I think you drunk the last one when Alex came round, didn't you?\" \n\n\"He's around now, actually, just popped in on his way home from work.\"\n\n\"Oh no\" she gasped. \"I look like crap, Matt, can you lock him in the kitchen till I can go upstairs and get dressed up a little bit?\"\n\nI broke into a great big smile. Jess had always been a bit funny about stuff like that. Looking good was a matter of pride to her. I always thought it was a little bit silly. It wasn't like Alex was a stranger, he was the best man at our wedding. I smiled a little, remembering how wonderful that day had been. \n\n\"Nonsense Jess, you look gorgeous, like always. And Alex won't care, he's seen you in a worse state before.\" I said, smirking a little bit, remembering the last birthday party. \"However you look, it's probably better than being covered in your own sick.\"\n\nShe sighed, defeated. \"You are an infuriating man, Matt.\" She tutted and swapped her phone to the other hand. \"I can see the house now, I'm just coming in ok?\"\n\nMy face fell. For the first time in the conversation, I looked up, and looked at the door. \"Ok.\" I said, quietly. \"I'll see you in a second love.\"\n\n\"Are you ok?\" She asked, concerned. \"You don't sound right?\" \n\nI could hear her keys at the door. I felt tears start to well up in my eyes.\n\n\"I'll see you in a bit, love.\" With that, I hung up. Slamming the phone down on the table. The sound of keys stopped. I just sat there, sobbing into my arms for a solid minute, unable to control myself. Eventually, I dragged myself up from the stairs and into the kitchen, where I made myself a cup of tea. As I left the kitchen, I looked down at the phone, sitting on the bottom step. Taking a seat, I looked down at the screen.\n\n\"Repeat last call? 07***37*283 25/04/2007.\" \n\nI put the tea on the stair next to me, and picked the phone up. I pressed the button, and put the phone to my hear. I had to hear her one more time, I couldn't just leave it at that.\n\nA moment of silence as the dialing tone ends.\n\n\" Hi Love!\" She said, her breath a little short from walking.\n\n\"Hi darling.\" I replied. \"Just checking up on you, wanted to see how you were doing.\"\n",
"\"You look like a man with a sad story\" a women's voice said. I turned on my stool thinking of a rebuttal, my life is shit and this chick is calling me out on it. The first thing I remember thinking when I say her, 'Damn she was beautiful!' \n\n\"Wh.... what?\" was all that came out.\n\n\"I saw you walk in and have been watching you.\"\n\n\"Without sounding insensitive, why do you care?\" \n\nShe sat on the stool next to me. \"Let's just say I'm a bleeding heart.\" She never stopped staring into my eyes. The more I absorbed her the more beautiful she became. And it wasn't just her looks; something about her seemed familiar and calming. I felt almost instantly safe in her eyes. \n\n\"Well it's a long sad story. Not exactly a great thriller either.\" \n\nHer unblinking eyes did the convincing for her. I soon opened up and started from the beginning. I spilled all my secrets to her. How ever since my school years I have been a loner, picked on, ignored by my parents, a run away. I have had more days with a negative bank account than positive. How I was married, sucked dry of trust, cheated on and left with nothing. How the last three dogs I got to cope, died within the first year. How after the break up I lost all that I was, and now I am a hollow man. How when I do get what I want, it is always taken away in the most violent way possible, making obtaining nice things is a negative to me. I revealed a lot more too: relationships, deaths, violence. \n\nI didn't notice it, in fact I thought she would get up and leave when the the more morbid items spilled out, but she had put her hand on my arm. How comforting it was to feel her warmth. I stopped and looked up again at her. She was still and I could tell she was listening to every word. I looked at her and asked \"I have a lot more but there isn't enough time to tell them all\". \n\n\"I want to help you. I have listened to many people's life's story and yours seems the most dire\" She reached into her purse and pulled out a case. \"What I am giving you will make you feel better, that is if you use it correctly. There are instructions in the case on how to operate the device, but I will summarize it: Inside this case is a phone and 3 pin numbers. You use the pin number to activate the keypad and then you can use the phone, each cannot be longer than one minute calls. After all calls have been expired the phone will turn off and cannot be used again. This phone can call anyone, anytime.\"\n\n\"Oh... Well that is what phones do. I appreciate the offer but I have one\" I pulled out my Smartphone and smiled. I felt a little better as I thought she was just trying to joke around and cheer me up. Not very clever but the effort was appreciated. \n\n\"No this is not like your phone. This phone can call anyone, anytime in history. The only catch is that there has to be a phone to call them on in their timeline.\" She had a very serious face about her. \n\n'Great the first women that pays attention to me is coo-coo for coco puffs. Just my luck' I thought. \"Thanks but I am good\" I started to turn away, but she grabbed my arm. \"No, please when you have time, think about someone that you cannot talk to today, someone who would cheer you up to hear from and type their number\" she was very insistent. \"Just try it. What is there to loose?\" She got up and walked away, leaving the case behind. \n\n\"What is your name?\" I asked as she was leaving.\n\n\"You can call me Beth\" she said doing a slow half turn and turned back to walk out the door. \n\nI sat there for another hour or so drinking and fingering the outlines of the case. What a peculiar women, what a peculiar night. I paid my tab and walked home with the case. \n\nI got ready for bed and tried to fall asleep, but I laid there thinking of what Beth said to me. \"Wouldn't it be nice to talk with Kyle again? Don't be stupid; she was just playing with you. Not sure what the end goal would be though? \" I got out of bed and retrieved the case. 'Man I can't believe I'm even thinking of attempting to use it'.\n\nI picked up the phone, I pulled a card out of the lip in the lid, I entered the pin. The phone unlocked to a number pad and 14 blank spaces above it. It flashed (MM/DD/YYYY HH:MM:SS). I entered in 01/03/2004 15:00:00. The numbers I entered disappeared and it flashed (Phone Number). So far so good... I entered Kyle's number. It started to ring then someone picked up on the third ring.\n\n\"Hello?\" That voice. I know that voice!\n\n\"Hi, um... sorry to bother you. This isn't Kyle's brothers phone is it?\"\n\n\"No, this is Kyle, my brother's phone is 555-3\"\n\nI couldn't hold my excitement any longer, I interrupted \"Kyle!? Kyle Peterson?\"\n\n\"Yea?\"\n\n\"It's me Donny!\" \n\n\"You don't sound like Donny, and your number says blocked\"\n\nI had to think fast. I chose this date only because it was the first date that came to mind. \"Please listen to me. You and I were the ones that broke Mrs. Shafers car window. You ate a goldfish in the 5th grade on a dare at my sleep over. You.. you caught me looking at your older sister in the shower when I was at your sleep over. This is Donny! Listen you cannot go out tonight. Stay home; make up a story, say your sick. I can't tell you how I know, but your going to die tonight. If you ask me after this call why I called you and said this, I won't know what you are talking about, but trust me. Stay...\" \n\n\"Hello? Kyle?\" I looked at the phone \"Call Ended 1:00\"\n\nWhat felt like a burst of light hit me inside my brain, I have memories of Kyle, I have more memories of Kyle. I felt more intact."
] |
[
2,
2,
2,
2
] |
[
"1444767822",
"1444771491",
"1444771971",
"1444774716"
] |
|
Genders are interchangeable.
|
[WP] A mother starts to worry when she notices her daughter's cuts are healing.
| 24
|
[
"**Part I**\n\nEvery morning I wake up at 10:30 sharp, and reach blindly for my trusty bottle of Smirnoff vodka sitting on the bedside table. Every night after I pour the final glass required to push me to that level of inebriation where I can actually fall and stay asleep, I put it on my night stand so it'll be there in the morning for the first taste; it's like \"job security\" -- only, for an alcoholic.\n\nThe first drink of the day is always room temperature liquid, in a room temperature glass (which also rests on the bedside table), followed by a brief sigh of burnt out relief that acts as a chaser. \n\nAfter I've had my first drink, I get up from under the covers and grab my bottle, and head through my shack of a house to the kitchen. It's 10:45. My daughter Jessica has already left for school. It is November and I am all alone. \n\nAround 10:50-10:55 is the time I feel is most suitable to begin my day of intoxicated reflection. Today, my thinking lead me to realize that it's been about a year since Jessica last told me she loves me. \n\nShortly after the \"opening thoughts\", I pour the second drink. For this drink I like to use a big mug I keep in the freezer throughout the night, paired with three to four ice cubes, and sometimes (if I'm craving something sweet) a little splash of Dr. Pepper. \n\nBy the end of the second drink my thoughts are less inhibited and usually I think of my daughter/late husband, Louis. My husband took his own life about a year and a half ago, late September, after a two year stretch of being in-between jobs and feeling the financial pressures brought on by his frequent unemployment. At this point in time, I had a job and was at work on this particular day, so my daughter was the one who found his body. She was 14 at the time.\n\nFor those first few months after his death, she seemed to be coping well given the circumstances: going to therapy sessions once or twice a week, bringing her grades back up after they had taken an understandable drop, and said she wasn't grieving the loss of her father, rather, appreciating the time she'd had with him; ultimately handling the situation with an incredible level of maturity. Up until I started drinking. \n\nI was okay for the first two or three months, trying my hardest to balance caring for my daughter and trying not to think too much about losing my best friend and husband. But, when the holidays began to roll around I couldn't stop thinking of the fact that Christmas of that year, would be the first Christmas in 17 years not spent with Louis, as well as the first Christmas in 14 years not spent as a complete family. I had a mental breakdown that Christmas eve, and spent Christmas day under psychiatric evaluation, leaving the hospital on December 27th without ever really reaching base line. I was then laid off about three weeks after the start of the new year, because I was too distraught to function. \n\nEventually, since I wasn't bringing in any money, we lost the house. The house my daughter should have grown up in. The house that my previously happy little family made such loving and unforgettable memories in. It was a comfortable, cute, one story, baby blue house with a beautiful lawn, a lush garden, and a patio swing on the front porch. My favorite part of the house, though, was the backyard: a primarily brick floor space that ran to meet a sizable patch of green grass where an enormous maple tree stood, a barbecue next to the sliding glass door, a nice little set of patio furniture with a small table and chairs to eat dinner on a couple nights out of the week during the spring and summer, and during the hotter days in the summer months (when Jessica was young enough) a little blow up Tweety Bird kiddie pool or (my favorite) a Slip-n-Slide. It wasn't much, and it didn't need to be. It was ours, and we loved it all the same. A quaint little place, tucked into a peaceful neighborhood, watched over by a range of big, green, silent mountains. Respectful neighbors and plenty of children for Jess to play with. The ideal place to raise a happy child. \n\nBut, after being laid off and failing to make multiple payments on the house, the bank decided it was best to take my home away from me and my daughter, giving us no choice but to live from government check to government check, in a house I have yet to create *one* positive memory in. \n\nSo I sought comfort in the bottle. And, since I had no more money coming in to pay for Jess' therapy, and *I* certainly wasn't dealing with my emotions in a way conducive to her emotional well being, she fell completely backwards all at once. As far as I know she never touched drugs or alcohol, but her grades plummeted. She became recluse, only leaving her room to get something to eat or drink and use the bathroom, and around May I started seeing the cuts. \n \n11:30 means drink number three. \n\nThis drink is usually the last of the bottle. It isn't *quite* enough for me to feel anything -- usually either a quarter to half of the glass, depending how heavy I went the night before --, but I'm starting to think that I crave the taste as well as the feeling I know that taste can bring me. My freezer glass has gone room temperature as I finish my drink. I put it back in the freezer, grab my backpack, and walk to the nearby liquor store. \n\n11:50 \n\nI arrive at the liquor store and pull the same cheap handle of Smirnoff off the shelf. The workers know me and my drink of choice by now. \"Marissa! Good to see *somebody* around here finds what they love and sticks with it!\" I laugh and hand him the 23 dollars and twenty-seven cents. I muster a \"see you tomorrow\" and head on my way, paper bag of liquid stability in hand. \n\nI usually head around back to the alley to take a nice, hearty swig before taking the long way home so as to get in a bit of \"exercise\" and fresh air. My doctor back at the psych ward said that exercise and a little fresh air can go a long way, but so far it hasn't seemed to help me with jack shit. \n\nI take another swig and think \"you know what? fuck it. I'll take two more for good measure. Third time's the charm, right?\" before putting it in my backpack.\n\nI arrive home at around 1 o'clock after mindless meandering through neighborhoods that appear unfamiliar to me because I'm drunk. I sit on the couch and turn on the TV but don't pay attention to the picture, and I doze off for a while. \n\nI wake up at 2:30 and believe it or not, I'm hungover. You know you're messed up when you wake up from a short nap with a hangover. Lucky for me, there's a cure for that. \n\n*swig*.\n\nIt's 2:40 as I start to pour my next glass. At 2:45 Jessica gets home. She doesn't even look at me and heads straight to her room; might as well give myself a little extra on this one. I take a sip and head back to the couch.\n\nAs I sit, glass in hand, I stare at the TV. Like before, I don't pay attention to whatever show is playing. I just sip my glass and again I start thinking.\n\nI'm not entirely sure what lead Jessica to discover cutting as a means of dealing with her fathers passing, though she admired her father deeply; she was the classic \"Daddy's girl\". He always gave her what she wanted (within reason), coached her soccer team until she turned 11, bought her a slurpee every saturday after her soccer games, helped her with homework, and when he came home with flowers for me, he'd make sure to give her a single rose along with a special note. He adored his baby girl, and she in turn adored him.\n\nThis is the girl who found him dead. \n\n3:20 pm. Glass number five.\n\nSchool ended mid May and since Jessica had no friends to speak of, I would only see her on occasion when she would come out for meals or to use the bathroom, and days would pass where we wouldn't speak or even see each other. On a typical day, she wore long sleeved shirts to cover up the cutting, but every once in a while shed come grab something to eat wearing a short sleeved T-shirt and I could see every inch of her arms; Cut after cut after cut after cut. I remained silent on the issue, not because I didn't care, but because I figured: I have my way of dealing with this, I'll let her have hers. I had asked about it once before, and she shut down. She somehow tried denying that she even had any cuts on her arms. I told her that she couldn't deny what's in plain view, to which she snapped \"I don't question you as you pound back glass after glass. Besides, what I'm doing is none of your business, and I'll have you know: it's not nearly as detrimental to my health as what you're doing.\" After that, I decided it's a matter best left alone. \n\n3:30 I top off my glass.\n\nHalfway through that summer, Louis' parents made a visit from Iowa. They knew about our situation only as far as me losing my job and being unable to find a new one. They knew nothing of my alcoholism or Jessica's depression, so they decided to remain in Iowa, unable to help us out. Also, due to the fact I had Jessica at the ripe age of 16, Louis' father was not yet old enough to retire and move his wife and himself out to Nevada. \n\nHis parents were the only family I had left and the only family (besides Louis and I) Jessica has ever known. I was an only child and both of my parents passed away when I was in my early twenties, leaving me with the choice of either wasting away on my own, or latch on to Louis' family. Yet, despite them being the closest thing to family I had, I hadn't seen them since the January after Louis died. To be truthful, I never really made an effort to contact them. So they decided to just \"drop by\" one night, early June. \n\n3:45 glass seven.\n\n\n \n ",
"\"Mom.\"\n\nChelsea stood in the doorway, a faint red line on her left arm the only remnant of her mother's attempt.\n\n\"I'm hungry.\"\n\nHer mother turned around, trembling. \"O-of course, honey. Who is it this time?\"\n\n\"Aaron Delter. He took my Twinkie yesterday.\"\n\nHer mother nodded, cold sweat running down her forehead. It seemed that the five-year-old was there to stay.",
"\"I swear, Gina, kids have it so easy these days. Back when we were kids, we would have had to apply rubbing alcohol and Desitin on injuries like that for weeks at a time before they showed signs of healing, and Caroline's practically good as new in a matter of days! Neosporin sure is something, huh?\"\n\nShe was right. Just the other day my Caroline fell over a stump and cut herself up pretty badly. We were considering taking her to the ER but decided against it. Earlier today I tried to give her a bath to clean her wounds, but all that was left of her cuts were a few red streaks.\n\nThis wasn't the first time either. Last year when she insisted on helping me peel potatoes, she accidentally cut her finger with the potato peeler and blood went everywhere. That time I did bring her to the ER. I mean, she practically skinned her finger with that thing. But apparently it wasn't as bad as I initially thought, because she was in and out of there within hours and the nurses actually seemed annoyed that I had brought her there. Like, sorry I was worried about my daughter, I guess next time I'll let her finger bleed out while she cries in her room?\n\nAnyway, when I met with Rose this afternoon I told her about Caroline's speedy recovery, which led to her 30 minute rant about how we had it harder back in the day and kids these days are being spoiled with modern medicine. After she was done lecturing me about how the government is putting experimental steroids in a small amount of vaccines (which occasionally had the side effect of causing autism), I made some excuse about cooking dinner and walked home.\n\nWhich brings us to now.\n\n\"Caroline, will you come over here for a second?\"\n\n\"But mom I'm going to miss Rescue Squad and it's almost over and you promised that I could watch it and---\"\n\n\"OK I just pressed record, now I need you to come here so I can check on your cuts.\"\n\nShe reluctantly left the living room, walking slowly backwards so as to not miss a second of the intense rescue that was in progress. As soon as the T.V. was out of sight, she sprinted over to me and lifted up her pant leg so that I could see the cuts again. Except they weren't there. The lighting was a bit dim, which probably made the red marks a little harder to see, but I couldn't see anything at all. Just smooth, clear skin all the way down her leg.\n\n\"Oh good Carebear, it seems to be healing really fast!\"\n\nShe pulled her leg off the chair and sprinted back into the room to watch her show. I didn't bother rewinding it, as she was already absorbed in the show again.\n\n\"Did you clean your room like I asked Caroline?\"\n\nNo response, as usual. I swear, when she watches that show she's in a whole other world. I didn't bother asking again. I just walked upstairs to do it myself (like I would end up doing anyway, considering that she never does a good job). She had a few shirts and pairs of underwear thrown about the room, but her bed was made (she's learning!) and the rest of the room was neat for the most part. I figured I would just change her sheets now seeing as it hasn't been done for a couple of weeks.\n\nOff with the superhero sheets and on with the----\n\nWhat the fuck.\n\nPiles of skin. Piles of dead skin under the sheets. Blood and skin everywhere.\n\nWhy the fuck didn't she tell me?\n\nI frantically called Neil.\n\n\"...what do you wan---\"\n\n\"NEIL I JUST WENT UPSTAIRS AND---\"\n\nHe cut me off. \"Cut to the chase, I'm in a meeting.\"\n\n\"Caroline's shedding her skin. Experiment 127 was a success.\""
] |
[
2,
8,
28
] |
[
"1445174642",
"1444797991",
"1444789402"
] |
[WP] After eating a strange mushroom, you become irresistible to the opposite sex, write about your average day.
| 4
|
[
"Dear Matt,\n\nYou wouldn't believe where I am right now. I am at your house. It's 3 in the morning and I know I shouldn't be here. I only have a few minutes to explain to you why and how in the world I am at your place. I know you're with Julie right now, and she doesn't have to see this, so I beg you, please Matt, BURN this message after you read this. I know after reading this you wouldn't believe a single word. But... *sigh* Okay, so here goes. \n\nRemember when we were in grade school and I was your \"wingwoman\" everyone's been teasing about? That your \"wing\"woman won't be able to fly off with you cause I was damn too fat? Damn too ugly and damn too stupid for you? The point is, I was your best friend. We were always there for each other, push off each other's bullies, share each other songs and whatnot etc. You know the rest. Truth is Matt, when high school came, I thought we'd still be friends forever. Until you met Julie Andersons. She's hot, fun, smart, likable every inch of her; the total opposite of me. Since then, we started drifting apart. You veered into Julie's direction, while I continued floating away with my head turned towards you. \n\nI never stopped believing Matt. I know we were meant to be with each other. I knew that one day I'd have my time with you. \n\nSo two days ago on an afternoon, like you wouldn't believe, I was walking home and saw this beggar. The softy that I am (Yeah, I know, I should've just given him food) and that I didn't have any smaller bills, I gave him my last $100. The man stood, started talking in a foreign language, grabbed my hand and gave me 3 plastic packets of some dried up mushroom. The only English words he was able to utter was, \"Tea. Drink. Hot.\"\n\nI went home and thought, what the hell, if this was worth a hundred bucks then so be it. I drank it. Unbeknownst to me, it's damn delicious, so I decided to bring the rest with me to work tomorrow.\n\nAnd the next day at the office, everyone was staring at me. Literally every man on the office building. Like I'm some walking meat and they're the hungry wolves. Even my boss, Drake, kept eyeing my back and I heard him mutter to his breath, \"Damn!\" I didn't give them notice but it was still flattering. Even Kent, that sonofabitch, remember him from the varsity? Started following me to my cubicle and even offered me his coffee! I felt insanely beautiful. \n\nI know I sound insane as I write this, and wherever you and Julie are right now (maybe at her parent's announcing your engagement or whatever?), you should probably stay away from me because it just started to get worse..\n\nI thought that maybe it was that tea I drank yesterday. So vain that I was, I decided to boost my confidence more and ATE, yes Matt, I ATE THE DAMN MUSHROOMS. ALL OF THEM. And as soon as I walked out of my damned cubicle, every guy literally started walking towards me with their eyes hungrier and darker than before. Like they wanted to devour me. I panicked, stood, and ran towards my boss. I even heard one of them shout at the very back, \"SHE'S MINE!!\" I was panicking and clutching my boss's tie and screaming at his face, \"SIR YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!!\" But all he said was, \"Oh yes, darling, on that department, I know and have all you need.. you don't have to bring yourself to your knees.. Oh, in fact that's a nice picture, you. on. your. knees.\" He was smiling. Oh God, I was damned scared to death. I ran as fast as I could out of the building. I didn't know it would only make things worse.\n\nWhile I was hurrying like everywhere, somehow, some of my officemates remembered my address. So my apartment was already packed with hungry lust filled men, that I didn't dare go inside anymore. \n\nThe only option I had left was your place. I banged your door, screamed your name but thought better of if in case I wake up your neighbors and cause more ruckus. I hoped that maybe just maybe... you'd be immune to this and that your love for Julie will withstand even this curse or whatever it is that I have right now. After a few seconds, I just decided to use the fire staircase outside your building and climbed inside your window for a temporary escape from the world outside. That was three hours ago.\n\nI would stay and explain some more but, right now, I'm starting to doubt you're immune to this. I do not wish to ruin your relationship with Julie like I've already destroyed half the city's lives. I've had a handful or regrets lately, but this one is the worst.\n\nI'm sorry Matt, but the men outside have figured out about the emergency exit and I have to go. Just call me, maybe 2 weeks from now and I'll explain everything more in detail. \n\nIn truth, I'm not sure when this'll wear off.\n\nYours,\nLea\n\nP.S. I'm so so sorry Matt.",
"How was my day yesterday? Okay so get this: This morning, I woke up to the sound of screams. Apparently one of my idiot butlers managed to let someone see the gate code, and all the crazy fanboys got into my yard! Like, literally thousands of them, okay? Yes, I'm gay, but no one wants a thousand screaming fans in their yard, first thing in the morning. So I wake up a whole twenty minutes early, and it's nothing but \"We love you, Jake!\" and \"Marry me, Jake!\" Same old shit as always, but it was extra irritating today of course. How could I be expected to be in a good mood after only 9 hours and 40 minutes of sleep? That's, like, cruel and unusual punishment!\n\nSo I drag myself out of bed - on my own, mind you, since everyone else in the house is busy barricading doors and windows, ugh, and I open my bedroom window. Big mistake. My ears are still ringing. So I raise up my hands like the goddamn Pope, and the whole crowd gets all quiet.\n\n\"Shut the fuck up.\" I say. Second mistake. Of course it's all \"OMG Jake talked to me!\" and \"Aaahh, I just saw Jake in person!\" And I'm just thinking, yep. This is it. This is what hell feels like. It takes forever, but the police finally show up and start tear gassing. About time, don't they know who I am? I didn't get to be the most attractive man in the world by getting only 9 hours and 40 minutes of beauty sleep, ya feel me?\n\nAnd finally I'm just like, you know what? Screw it. I'm gonna go for a hike in the woods today, just to get away from the mob for a while. So it's like late evening, and my bodyguards are carrying me back down the trail in my covered chair, and there's this old hag standing in the middle of the path, and she's like, 3,000 years old. All ancient and wrinkly and shit. Gross. So I tell her to move, and she says she won't until I do her a favor. And I'm like, way tired, y'know? It's almost bedtime already, and now I've had to look at an old person. And I'm just like, fine whatever, what's your stupid favor?\n\n...and she hands me some weird mushroom.",
"Another hike through the woods; off the streets, within the beaten paths. Always the road less traveled. Not because I want to succeed where Robert Frost didn't. Not because I want to explore and discover the unknown. No, none of that even appeals to me anymore. It's just my way of life now. The way I live. The way I *have* to live. It's funny. In a dark, horrific kind of way. That one beaten path led to infinite more. But...it wasn't always like this. \n \n...I had a girlfriend once. She was amazing. Intelligent, beautiful, had the same ridiculous sense of humor as me. She always encouraged me to succeed, try new things, grow. Even the small things, like urging me to get more fresh air or sun because it was healthy. Continuously keeping others in mind, namely me. One day, an adventure through the nearby woods I never even thought to explore, at her suggestion of course. A pleasant, memorable stroll. Autumn. Picturesque. Vibrant colors surrounded us, like a rainbow wrapping us together and raining all around. Foraging? I never even considered it. Berries, mushrooms, certain plants; all edible, she claimed. An interestingly new dinner full of flavors, she promised. One just for me. As we returned, the orange light lit our path, and we held hands. All the way back to my place. \n \nA twig snapping in the distance. An animal? Hopefully. No. More cracking. Sprinting through leaves. Two legs. I've come to be able to tell the difference. Climb quickly. Get high enough so my scent will dissipate in the breeze. Get the spray from my backpack. Apply it to myself and my surroundings. The air, as well. Always, *always* the air. Never forget about the air. Listen. Listen for the movement. Wait for it to die down. *Don't* leave until an hour or two after it dies down. Don't make that mistake again. Wait. Wait. *Wait*.\n \n...The smells of that night were divine, and I couldn't wait to dig in. Somehow the concoction she came up with utilizing our found ingredients and a few spices invigorated my hunger to an almost-drool. In fact, I might have actually drooled and wiped it away before it fell. I sat. She served. The taste rivaled the aroma. I urged her to join me. She insisted I eat to my heart, and stomach's, content, saying that my satisfaction and happiness were enough for her that night. So, I ate, and ate, and ate, until there was nothing left. Possibly the most delightful home-cooked meal I had in some time, made all the better because of who made it. She really was...something else. She didn't want to be repaid in the slightest. Time and time again, showing how selfless she really was...is. Is. She still is, somewhere, for someone. I hope. After that meal, I asked her to stay over for the night. It would be our first real night together. I was excited, to say the least, and could hardly wait. I'm sure she felt the same. \n \nThree hours. Should be enough time. One last look around, peering through endless branches, seas of leaves. Never feel like you're being too cautious. There is no such thing anymore. Seems clear enough. A quiet descent, all while keeping a lookout. Unfamiliar forests are always the same. Haha, how interesting an oxymoron. Keep going. Always, keep going. Nightfall soon. Find a better tree. A better bed. Up ahead, almost hammock-like. High enough? Yes, definitel-wait, *never* definitely. High enough? Yes, seems to be. Climb, and fast; always fast, can never be slow or out of practice. Change my shirt, it's been enough time. Stains are too haunting anyway. Spray; *always* spray, myself, the area, the air. *Always* the air. Backpacks are the best pillows. Enjoy the breeze. Enjoy the sunset. The bloody sky. That orange light. \n \n...It was a night I'll never forget. Emotionally. Intimately. I had never been with someone like her. And it was...incredible, to say the least. I was surprised, because she almost didn't tire, didn't want to stop. Almost robotic, possessed, overtaken by her urges. I could only bear so much though, and knew she needed to sleep and wake up early anyway. We fell asleep in each other's arms, and I blissfully counted sheep that had her face on them; she really was haunting my thoughts, my mind, in the best way imaginable. So we slept. Or at least, I slept. I dreamt of the ocean, wavy fields of grain rustling in the wind, the sun's heat beating down on my not-so-pale-anymore skin. I dreamt of her, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, laying with me in that ocean, on those fields. I dreamt of holding her in my arms as her breath subtly caressed my neck. Then I dreamt of her, and the night we just experienced; her near-insatiable lust combined with her sweet and loving nature, like a tornado of emotion and thought whirling together, almost unable to combine. Then I woke up. \n \nFootsteps. Keep calm. Don't shoot awake like last time. Control. Listen carefully. Listen. Two? No. No. Four. Slow. Listen, look, slowly. Scan the area. Carefully, not missing a single blade of grass or outline. There! Only a bear. Mid-sized, a cub nearby. That was no growl. That was her stomach. Hunger. I know the feeling; I *definitely* know that feeling. Must be desperate. Cub seems sluggish. They won't come too close. Re-apply the scent. *Nothing* comes near to this scent. Horrible, potent, deters the...wildest...of beasts. She turned. Foraging. Escaping the light of dawn, looking for honey, berries, anything. Can't find if you're blind. That rhymed. Haha. Wait until she stomps away. Cub getting impatient, almost ravaging its mother. They'll be on their way. Poor cub. Poor mother. They just want to eat. \n \n...She was on top of me, kissing me. Slowly, lightly, but rampantly. Rubbing my eyes, thinking it was still a dream, I asked her what she was doing. No answer. Still kissing. Almost hard. Then hard. Almost biting. I was confused. This wasn't her. This wasn't her at all. I asked her again. No response. I noticed my skin, with red blotches, as if she had been doing it awhile, as if through the night. Bed covers and sheets everywhere, much more disheveled and distraught than the night before. Harder. Biting harder. This *wasn't* her. She couldn't even hear me. She was so focused on my body. Kissing, biting, licking, smelling; almost like a dog. I grabbed her arms. She fought. I let go, but she started rubbing me, clawing me, gnawing me. She tried to hold my arms, but I overpowered her and held hers again. Lightly pushing her off, I yelled at her, trying to snap her back to reality. No response. *Never* a response. I ran to the bathroom, locking it behind me. She banged, scratched, pushed. Endlessly. Endlessly. Thirty minutes later, a thud on the door. In tears, I opened it. Her body fell slightly forward into the bathroom, her nails and hands in shambles, bleeding. She had passed out from exhaustion, never stopping her attempts to get to me. I panicked. Police? Hospital? What would they do to her? What would they do to *me*? No. Pack up what I can, and run. Run. Have to run. Have to move on. \n \nThe bear finally pushed on with its cub. I hope it finds a nice, savory meal. What a magnificent creature. Time to get moving again. Survey the area. Look closely, carefully. Enjoy the view, if possible. Always the same viewpoint. Climb slowly, fluidly. Don't forget to watch the area in the descent. *Always* listen, look, while leaving. Back on the path. Well, not a real path. I make my own paths now. Never thought I'd end up being so outdoorsy. Guess I owe it all to her, after all..."
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2,
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3
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[
"1444801659",
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|
pick your superpower and describe the last 24 hours of your llife
|
[WP] a disease has been discovered that gives the victim a superpower for 24 hours before the victim dies, you have contracted the disease.
| 13
|
[
"Just for tonight he would tell himself, just one more night and he would keep his promise tomorrow, but he never did. And now the next twenty-four hours would likely hold him to his word - he'd never fuck another woman again. \n\nChris Kennedy sat perched upon the doctor's examination table swinging his legs and clutching at the crook of his elbow. She was only gone for fifteen minutes but it still burned, everything burned now. Every time he ignited a fag with the flames he conjured from his palm the warts on his balls would cause him to claw and scratch. Every time he took a piss it would burn from his abdomen to the tip of his cock but it was a small price for the power of telekinesis. \n\nHe was finding with every passing moment he discovered another symptom as well as another superpower. By now he was at five and counting. Any other person in his situation would be thinking of the opportunities of having superpowers but all he could think of was sex, all he could ever think of is sex. He tried to justify the intrusive thoughts, he should just get the fuck outta here he told himself, there was no point in trying to fight his addiction anymore, he'd be dead before the dawn. The idea of leaving was too appealing to him but before he could the doctor had returned red face and flustered. \n\n'Your blood tests are back.' she said organising the dossiers in her hand.\n\n'What did they say, do they know what it is?'\n\n'I don't know how to tell you this but - no.'\n\n'No? What do you mean ‘no’?'\n\n'We've never seen anything like this before, it behaves like a virus but it’s not. The disease converts the viral RNA into DNA. This DNA then is transported to the cell’s nucleus and the human DNA, your DNA, is replaced by the virus’s. But what’s interesting about it is the virus is carrying what I can only describe as humanoid molecules and replacing your DNA with it. ‘ \n\n‘I don’t get it, what do you mean?’\n\n‘Chris, the virus is replacing your DNA with other people’s DNA.’\n\n‘What the hell? How? It can’t be.’\n\n‘I’m afraid so. From the samples we have the majority of DNA that the virus is carrying is human but five of the samples we took they’re, they’re….’\n\n‘They’re, what?’\n\n‘They’re from silicon-based life forms, Chris, they’re not human.’\n\nChris looked on bewildered his face stunned with disbelief he began to shake his head ‘Wait a minute, wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me that I’ve caught an alien STD?’\n\n‘For lack of a better word, Yes. The next step we need to do is contact your sexual partners anyone one of them could be carrying the virus and their sexual partners may have it also. If they have developed superpowers they’re at risk of being a danger to the public, I can only imagine the chaos super strength and invisibility can cause. And Karen, I would like to speak with her. In the meantime I would like you to abstain from sex.\n\n‘Why do you want to speak with Karen?’\n\n‘You said your girlfriend was the last person you slept with before developing symptoms.’\n\n‘Karen’s not my Girlfriend.’\n\n‘Who is she?’\n\n‘A prostitute.’ \n",
"The Chemist sat on his chair, pouring two solutions into a larger container. The liquids hissed and steamed, but the man was unfazed, utterly confident in what he was doing. His assistant, stood beside him, looking nervous but unafraid.\n\nThe liquids stopped hissing. The assistant immediately turned on the burner to keep it warm. After a few minutes, the liquid turned into a strange green color. The Chemist lifted the container, closely examining it. He put it back down with an air of finality.\n\n\"There, it is done,\" he said. \"The new drug should be ready.\"\n\n\"That's great sir!\" The assistant cheered. \"You still have a chance to live!\"\n\nHer boss shook his head. \"It's already too late for me Mary, the disease has gotten to the point where it can no longer be cured. It's now up to you to prepare the research paper and publish our discovery in a journal.\"\n\nHis voice had an air of weariness, as if he had already given up.\n\nMary also shook her head. \"Sir, are you just going to give up like that?! I can't...this isn't...\" Tears started streaming down her eyes. \"I won't allow that to happen! Surely the drug would at least delay your death!\" The stack of papers in her hand had started to crumple.\n\nThe Chemist chuckled. \"My super intelligence tells me that you are wrong. Do take good care of our notes, my dear assistant, or else you'd have to start from scratch all over again.\"\n\n\"This isn't the time to be joking around!\"\n\nBut he just patted her on the head, Mary was crying openly now. \"I know that my time is already up, Mary. It's time for you to take my place. And your boyfriend is an IT specialist, is he not? Why don't you ask him for help in disseminating information?\"\n\nMary stifled a sniff and rubbed her eyes. \"Yes, but you still have so much time on you sir! You can't die yet, the company still needs you!\"\n\nThe Chemist face was somber, and a tear rolled down his cheek. \"I don't want to die yet Mary, but fate has dictated that I must. At the very least I have accomplished something that the world will remember me for.\"\n\nBefore Mary could reply, he had already left the room.\n\nThe next day, the Chemist's wife called her, saying that he had died with a smile on his face, and that his last words were to congratulate Mary on her stellar research on the new drug. The wife asked Mary if she would fulfill the task her former boss had asked of her, and she promised that she would.\n\nMary sat down at the head scientist's desk, her desk now, after she was promoted. Opening her computer, she began to type the first lines of the joint research between her and the Chemist. The tears were dry now, but the sadness was still there, and the promise that she made both to the Chemist and his wife was also there.\n\nAnd it was a promise that she intended to complete.",
"\"Nick wake up! Wake the fuck up!\"\n\nHe was throwing tennis balls at my for some god awful reason.\n\n\"What do you want Logan? It's 6:30 in the morning.\"\n\n\"Yes and you're floating out of the loft!\"\n\nI open my eyes to find myself staring at the black mark on the ceiling of our condo that I made by throwing a pen at the roof. I though I was still dreaming. But then all of a sudden it hits me that I'm not, and I fall to the ground with a tremendous thud.\n\n\"Oh shit are you okay?!\" Logan said.\n\n\"I just fell 15 feet onto the floor, I'm more concerned with the downstairs neighbor.\"\n\n\"R.I.P. downstairs neighbor.\" We both snicker as we match each others words.\n\n\"Nick I think we should get you to the hospital\"\n \n\"Why do you say that?\"\n\n\"You have the mark....\"\n\nI didn't even have to look. I knew what he meant. I have less then 24 hours to live.\n\nWe rush to emergency room. Logan rams through the door yelling for someone to help me. I love the kid to death like a brother, but god damn he's embarrassing. Like I know I'm already going to die, we are just here to find out how long I have.\n\nThe nurse points to the line of other illmans. The the word created for ill super humans. There are five others ahead of us, all with marks much bigger than mine. A girl with a rag over her eyes, laser vision. A young boy, who was flickering like a light, no fucking clue what that means. Twins, one with with smoke coming off his hands and the other with icicles everywhere. Thats ironic. and finally a girl who looked my age, and she was floating.\n\nThe odds of having someone with the same powers as you and finding each other are pretty small according to some Harvard studies.\n\nAt this point I have made up my mind, I don't wanna wait to find out how long until I die. I walk up to the girl and ask probably the stupidest question ever.\n\n\"Want to fly to Hawaii with me?\"\n\nShe laughed, I knew that would happen.\n\n\"Fuck it! I've only got 18 hours left.\"\n\nThough one last thought came into my head. I have to say goodbye to my best friend... my brother. I knew it wouldn't be easy. But i knew it would end with an embrace and a corny joke. That is exactly how it went.\n\n\"You know I wouldn't want to go out sitting in a hospital right bro?\"\n\n\"Yeah I figured you had a plan. What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"I'm flying to Hawaii with that girl over there.\"\n\n\"Oh, well I didn't see that coming. I'm really going to miss you man.\" We embrace. \"And remember Nick, use protection and don't forget to take your belt off when you go through security.\"\n\nI smack him on the head and turn to leave. I figure what would one last look back hurt. As I turn I see a bright light glowing. It's Logan. I see the mark growing rapidly, consuming his arm like a swarm of ants. He's going supernova. This only happens to one in 100 million people. He knew it was happening too, and so did everyone else. But, even in this moment our humor prevailed.\n\n\"I guess I will be seeing you sooner than we thought.\" He smirked.\n\n\"Fuck y........\"",
"The light flashed green. My face, previously displaying a bored expression grew pale and frightened. The man sitting in front of me, looked at me sadly, and said something. It didn't matter, I couldn't hear him. I turned, and began to walked out of the door with a depressed air about me. A moment later, the worker came up to me and said something else, his eyes bright. Was he making fun of me? I'm sure he was. I tuned him out, not bothering to listen to his jabs. In a daze, I returned home, and crashed onto my bed. I had less than 24 hours to live.\n\nI woke up, and realized that it was the next day. Two hours left. I decided to accept my death. One hour. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. \n\nI didn't die. I laughed. Looks like I was immortal."
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[
1,
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5
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[
"1444843116",
"1444836807",
"1444839776",
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[WP] A young couple is caught in a time loop. After years of building a successful career and raising kids, time reset itself. This is the story of their twentieth loop.
| 31
|
[
"\"Goddammit.\" I say as I feel the rip of time reverse me back to where it always begins. \n\n The familiar sensation of being ripped in two while simultaneously feeling like I'm being squeezed into a space the size of a golf hole passes. A mere nuisance now. In the beginning, I flipped my shit -- to be crude about it. I screamed. I cried. I prayed to any and every deity that might answer my prayer. I think I may have even called out to Satan himself.\n\nThere was no answer. Only silence. I am alone. \n\n\"Shit.” I whisper. \n\nNo, this is more like, \"FUCK!” It echoes in the empty dorm room I'm now standing in. I look around and see the familiar things that I've seen for eternity. My bed is made up. The psychology articles are strewn across my desk in a chaotic organized way that only makes sense to me. I hear the familiar hum of the mini fridge my parents bought me my freshman year. \n\n\"Fuck.\" I say again moving towards the window,. \"I'm going to have to repeat this last goddamn year of college again.\" \n\nI look out the window, angry at the very existence of every being who ever existed. Yes. Angry. I am angry. This is the twentieth fucking time I've made it back to this spot and nothing has changed. I thought with that last incarnation…\n\n\"Well,\" speaking to the objects in my room who are all probably just as weary of seeing me pop back here as I am, “at least I won’t have to study so hard this time. Eh?” I throw myself onto the neatly made bed. Time travel. It’s a bitch. \n\nI should probably try and find Max. My demeanor softens. Twenty go arounds aren’t bad when you have Max by your side. \n\n“Asshole.” I say with a smirk staring at nothing still. No matter how many times we do this thing, he always finds me first. Somehow, he just knows where I’ll be. And I’m there, with a smile, waiting for his next sarcastic remark. I chuckle softly thinking of the next bad pun he’ll have for me on our twentieth of, well, whatever this is. Something groan worthy no doubt. I'm no good with jokes. \n\n“Max,” I say to myself, “what will number twenty bring us?.” \n\nWe are a conventional couple in every sense. You know, except for the whole time loop thing. We had the whole package. House. White picket fence. Dog. The two point five children. Stellar careers. We, well, I—as Max or anybody else for that matter has no friggen clue--been through this life for over 200 years, give or take. I tried not to be together in a few of the loops. You know, tried the whole, “Maybe if I do something different, this loop will end,” sort of thing. \n\nNope. God, Buddha, the creator, or what the fuck ever, wants us together. FOREVER. It's probably every little girls dream to end up with your soulmate for eternity. Fucking airheads if you ask me. Still…\n\nA smile creeps across my face. I close my eyes. “He truly loves me,” I say out loud to myself. What will our twentieth go bring us indeed? \n\nPain. Lots. Of. Pain. \n\nI can't move. Why can't I move? The room is dark, so I know I must have fallen asleep for a few hours at least. \n\n“Max!” I cry out. It's a habit. \n\nFuck. Why can't I move?! Why does this hurt so fucking much? \n\n“Hello Connie.” \n\nI freeze. (That was a joke. See, I'm no good with jokes.)\n\n“Max?” I say still speaking to the ceiling. \n\n“In the flesh.”\n\n“What's happening? Why can't I move?”\n\n“Does it hurt Connie?”, he says with mock sincerity in his voice. \n\n“Max, what---“\n\nMore pain. I scream. Enough for the pimply guy who lives across the hall who's always asking for “study” help to hear. No one comes…why doesn't someone come? \n\n“No one is coming Connie. No one knows you exist. Just me. No more time jumping for you..”, he smiles. Chuckles a little. “ Or for me. It's better this way. I'm glad to be honest.” \n\nHow does he know? I thought he didn't know.\n\n “Max,” I whimper. \n\n“My dear, dear Connie.” My pain is gone now, though I am still unable to move. \n\n“Sorry about the pain sweetheart. Not part of protocol, but, it makes things a little interesting. My job gets so tedious sometimes.” Even now, I still hope that this is all a joke and that he'll become my Max again. Yes. This is a dream and in a few seconds I'll wake up and there will be Max. Ready with a kiss and an ‘I love you.’\n\n“Don't have to eat your terrible cooking anymore. The agency is finally pulling me in.” I hear some clicking sounds and some rustling. What fuck is going on here already?! \n\n“Finally. Finally. I get to live the life I want. No more babysitting!” I could hear the glee in his voice, imagine the twinkle in his eyes he gets when he is extremely happy. Why am I remembering this bullshit now. God. Get it together woman. \n\nI hear more rustling and the scraping of a chair. Hear his footsteps walking towards the bed I'm still lying frozen on. He stops. I see his face come into view above me. \n\n“Any last words Constance?”\n\nI let out a feeble unintelligible “Mew..” and then things go black.\n",
"Third day of loop twenty...\n\n\nWe cock our guns, and give a nod. After the first couple of loops we committed the entire plan to memory. \nFrom behind the corner she shoots the camera, and I get the security guard. We are like clockwork. She splits off to take care of the security guard who would just now be getting back to the cameras. I punch in the code to the vault. It never changes.\n\n\nI don't even bother with the cash. Hacksawing through boxes 1005, 1448 and 2663 is enough. \n\n\nWe know it is wrong to steal but this was just the best way to start our loops.\n\n\n_________\n\n\nFourty-fifth day of loop twenty...\n\n\nNo one ever figures out the bank heist--and we sold the goods within the week. After that--Mary figured out and committed to memory a decent investment plan and we end up becoming multi-millionaires in the first couple of months. This is a good start. I've been in the lab non-stop. I've written these books a hundred times over. Tinkering with nearly 2000 years of scientific experience... Publish. We'll see where the world goes this time.\n\n\nWe stopped trying to have kids right off the bat... It was too heartbreaking for Mary. We could never get the same kids...Only after we raised them and they left did time reset. To her, it was like they died every time we reset. \n\n__________\nSeven-hundredth day of loop twenty.\n\nI'm the most famous scientist in the world. Married to the most successful entrepreneur in the world. We're a killer combo. The hardest part of changing the world isn't making incredible inventions or giving away a lot of money. But it was trying to change things faster than other people would allow. People always start of the loops with pretty dumb ideas. But after a little finagling this is about the days it starts to get easier. Also when things can get unpredictably amazing. It is was like the whole world was our kid to raise.\n\n_________\n\nOne hundred eighty-two thousandth day of loop twenty.\n\nThe view of the new planet was nice. Mary was in the lab doing something...\nShe called me down to see. I hadn't seen her in a while. The ship was big, and we enjoyed doing our own things every now and then. \n\n\nI recognized the devices she made instantly. It was a set of cloning pods. In them was forming two small bodies.\n \n\n\"I think it is time to reset.\" She said.\n\n\nI didn't disagree. I had some new ideas. I think I could make the earth warp capable in the first year. That could be an achievement. \n\n\n\"Any ideas of what you want to do next time around...?\"\n\n\nWe stood there. In our perfect machine body we made. \"Maybe... Maybe we just don't do anything. Live like we did in the first couple of loops...\"\n\n\nWithin a microsecond, It ticked in my mind after millions of possible scenarios played in my positronic mind. I had always worried she didn't fully appreciate the loop. \n\n\nI didn't want to waste this future. I tried to activate it. The killswitch. It... Didn't work. It was my Mary. She was smart. Of course she disabled it.\n\n\nIn the blink of an eye. Some how I was dead.\n_____________\n\n\nFirst day of loop six hundred.\n\n\nShe's just too fast; I can't stop her in time before she brains me with that damn nightlight... This is hell... She wastes away her lives. For what? To raise kids...? \n\n\n____________\n\nFirst day of loop maybe... A thousand something?\n\nI can't reason fast enough. This is hell. I know she raises more kids, and just resets. I know it will go on for eternity. Hopefully she'll learn eventually. I just need to keep my sanity intact long enough until she changes her mind. \n\n_________________________________\n\n\nFirst day of loop -- I've lost track entirely.\n\n\nI'm not dead yet...\n\n\n\"Mary?\" \n\n\n\"There is no Mary anymore.\" She says. Too me, it was only a couple of hours of getting bashed to death. But to her it could have been millions of years. \n\n\nI turn on the lights slowly. Prepared for anything she could do... She was sitting up next to me in the bed. \n\n\n\"I've raised so many children...\"\n\n\nWhat a waste I murmur. A mistake that might have cost me another thousand years of brain bashing. But she was sedentary this time. I saw it as my chance to take control of the loops. But... It was impossible. After the first couple of hits I tried to land.... She broke my collar bones with a few swift strikes. It was her loop once again.\n\n\n\n\"Go ahead. Take it. Waste away another loop. I'll be back when you succumb to that weakness. You just can't resist, can you? Breeding is so futile. We could live as gods with what we can do. Really discover things about this universe--maybe what is beyond it.\" I say. It was such a relief to finally be able to say...\n\nI think for a moment of how much we've changed. How much she changed. \n\n\n\nShe replied, \"The twentieth loop made me realize how much we change overtime. watching all my children grow. How everything can be so different so fast. I've had so much time to think. It is time I stopped thinking.\"\n\n\n\"So then go kill yourself. Take comfort in the fact that I won't waste the cycles like you have for however long you've lived without me. I won't start another loop--that is a promise.\" \n\n\n\"No. I decided in the moment after first time you tried to kill me and our children--you aren't the man I once believed in. You're not the type of man who deserves to live as a god. After I kill you. I will kill myself. We will see if the cycle repeats or not. We've had the world, and it is time we give the world back. \" \n\n\nMy last death was quick, and the end of it all. ",
"I smile at Mary as I hold her hand while the time vortex rips us back through time yet again.\n\nShe doesn't smile back. I'm pretty sure she's growing tired of this endless cycle.\n\nThe two-decade-long time vortex comes to an end and my body reshapes to its previous state, 24 again... I give a happy sigh, glad I'm out of that timeline, adopting that 'cute' kid had been a mistake, but at least getting into the specific industry for Sandwich production had been a surprisingly successful -if boring- career option.\n\nAs we reappear back in our rented apartment we nod to each other. Knowing what to do.\n\nBefore we decide on what we do, we make notes recollecting our experiences, what to avoid and possible opportunity's to exploit in this run.\n\n\nI grab a notepad and begin to scrawl down my notes.\n\n'Avoid:\nGavin for adoption,\nBetting on England, for any sport for the next 18 years,\nTrying to move to America AGAIN. '\n\n\nI stared at my short notes and hmmed, I couldn't think of any ideas, Mary usually has some good ones. We've got exactly a week and three days before our Landlord goes into his drunken fit in Spain and ends up evicting everyone without explanation.\n\nI avoid the mistake of petting the cat as I go to make coffee - I know it's in a bad mood this morning from the first three time-loops. Still trying to figure out why or how to calm it down.\n\n\nHalf way threw putting on the brew Mary walks in with her own notes and she sighs.\n\n\"Look... I want to try something... very different this time. Robert has been looking more attractive every run, every loop his marriage just looks so happy and after all these resets, I know how to make him happy... I want us to be split up on this run.\"\n\nI stare at her in surprise, we'd had a big argument 6 cycles ago, but we'd only really niggled at most since then. Either way she continued.\n\n\"I know my friend Beth is going to split up from her boyfriend in 4 days and she'll need someone there for her... and well... she's pretty and you know she'll be a successful accountant, so you could go for her...\"\n\nWe both remained silent for several long, awkward minutes, before I slowly nodded. I suppose the 400 years of the same guy can get boring, no matter how good a fit we were. I reply calmly and keep my face neutral.\n\n\"I guess we can try it out... if it doesn't work out, we'll be back together in 20 years anyway.\"\n\n\nWe calmly make our plans, it's a little awkward, working out how to best plan the next 20 years of our lives around a person who hasn't been involved in the same time-travel for 380 years... but we work it out.\n\nAbusing our knowledge of the future, we both easily get our partners and have successful careers within a year. We remain in contact of course, usually on advise on 'how next week is going to go if I do X'.\n\nIt's clear within 10 years we're unhappy, our partners don't have the same knowledge we do, and while we have such ample experience on how to make our friends of over 320 years happy (we'd lost contact in a few of the time-loops), they're not as clued up as us and worse of all... they wanted kids, they haven't experienced it as many times as we have, and they also don't know that we won't ever see those kids mature past their teens at best, and we have no way of knowing how they'll grow up past that, and the fact they disappear after that is... still heartbreaking.\n\nI end up ceding and having a child with Beth, Mary refuses and it eventually leads to the downfall of her relationship. Since I'm with Beth, I can't spend much time with Mary... especially now she's single, it'd be too suspicious... however I see Mary is getting depressed.\n\nThen a year before the time loop, actually on my birthday at 43 the worse happens... she commits suicide. This is something we've both agreed never to do, because we don't know how it effects our interaction with the time-loop.\n\nI spend the next year nervous and anxious, I put on a good front though, nobody in this time-cycle notices the difference.\n\nThe day before time resets, I do my best to calmly explain to Beth as best I can what's going to happen, and that I love her and will remember our time together always. Of course she doesn't understand.\n\nBut she cares about me, and is worried what I'm going to do. The next day she follows me as I drive out to the park where I know the vortex will happen.\nI'm glad she's this concerned but I warn her to stay back, I don't want her getting stuck in the time-loop too.\n\nShe doesn't listen though. As time opens up and does its best to correct its mistake -me- by ripping me forcefully from where I stood into its maw, Beth dives in and grabs my wrist at the last second.\n\nI yell at her to stop - our child who me and Mary had tried to pull back was ripped to shreds. But it was too late, she was pulled back with me through time.\nI shut my eyes tight, not wanting to see her cease to exist.\n\nI slowly open my eyes as I hear my cat meow for attention, I see myself... 24 again, I look over to where Mary will be and instead a very confused Beth. In confusion I look at the clock... right time, right date... we're back alright. But where's Mar-\n\nI look at the picture on the wall and rather than seeing me, the cat abd Mary... Beth is in her place. I check my phones contacts... No Mary.\n\n\nI turn to face the panicked Beth and can't think of anything to do but sigh.\n\nThis is going to take at least 20 years to explain... luckily I have that and many others after that..."
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22
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"1444880655",
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[WP] "You don't mind that I'm not...all there?"
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[
"\"Listen, Ollie...\" The voice on the other end replied. \"I love you, man, I do. You're my most valuable 'player' by far, ok?\" \n \n\"Aww, thanks, Reg.\" Oliver spoke in meandering, sarcastic tone as he dropped his luggage by the front of the door and went exploring. \n \n\"It's the truth. But, buddy, you haven't given me anything in three years. People are gonna start forgetting you exist. Normally, I'd say it's good for people to call a horror writer a 'ghost', but, in your case, it's not doin' you any good.\" Reggie responded, his voice trying to be calm and enthusiastic. \n \nOliver groaned, running his fingers across an old, dusty mantle. \"I'm not in charge of the ideas, Reg. They're in charge of me. If they don't come, they don't come.\" He continued tracing up the wall, above the mantle, feeling a seam and following it. \n \n\"Right, I get it. You're a tortured artist waiting to be swept away by spooky ethereal whatever.\" Reggie sighed through the earpiece. \"Buying you that house is the last advance the publisher is gonna give you. You know that, right? This is it, man. I know it sucks, but...you've gotta put something on the table. Make me some green, Ollie.\" \n \nOliver rested his forehead against the dusty wall above the fireplace mantle, his breath lifting up a cloud of musty, dirty air. \"I know, Reg. But, the key is here, I know it. This place...they say it talks to you. Thoreau had Walden. For me it's Primrose Estate.\" \n \nReggie chuckled. \"Yeah, I've heard the stories. Pretty creepy. Whatever works; if I see a manuscript out of this, I'll kiss any apparition or spook that inspired you. Tongue, no tongue, their choice. Ok?\" \n \nOliver laughed, as he began to peel away the wall above the mantle, following the seam. \n \n\"I'm serious, man. I will go to town. Just get me something I can sell the publisher on.\" \n \n\"If there are any romantic spooks in this house, they're mine.\" Oliver said, laughing. \"The publisher can kiss my-\" Oliver gasped audibly, eyes widened. \n \n\"What? Ollie? What happened?\" \n \nOliver breathed deeply, his eyes unable to stray from the sight. A faded, small portrait of a young woman hidden behind the wall, strawberry blonde in a bright yellow dress. \"I gotta go, Reg.\" Oliver whispered. \n \n\"Ollie? You're freakin' me out, buddy.\" \n \n\"It-it's her.\" Oliver spoke breathlessly. \"Saffron Finch. She's here. It's true. The stories...they have to be true.\" He felt himself start breathing faster as thoughts surged through his mind. He held his head in his hands and nearly fell backward. \"I-I've gotta-\" \n \nReggie grinned. Oliver hadn't sounded like that since he pitched his last best-seller. It was going to work after all. This stupid haunted-house-Halloween retreat was going to work. Somehow, Oliver was going to pull it off. \"I know that voice. I love that voice! That's my buddy!\" \n \nOliver laughed, hands covering his mouth. \"It's coming, I know it is. It's her. She wants me to tell her story. Oh! Yes!\" Oliver opened his arms wide as he knelt down on the dusty wood floor. \n \nReggie laughed. \n \n\"Reg, I gotta call you back. I've got work to do!\" \n \n\"Go Ollie go!\" \n \n***** \n \nOliver had pushed a small desk in front of the empty living room, facing the fireplace and that portrait, which was now cleaned and full of vibrant color. \n \nHe hammered away on his old Smith-Corona, the rythmic clacking like the morse code of his imagination calling out to the world. He hummed absently as he alternated between sips of coffee, stares at the portrait, and mashing at the keys. \n \nIn fact, he'd been at it for so long that the first indication he'd had that it was night-time was that he could no longer read the paper. It was then that he remembered... \n \n\"You haven't eaten anything all day...\" A soft, soothing, delicate voice with a hint of concern came from behind. \n \nOliver fell out of his chair, flopping helplessly on the ground in an attempt to right himself after hearing the voice. \"Who-who's?\" \n \n\"Like you don't know.\" The voice, gentle as before came from behind him. No matter where he looked, always behind. \n \n\"If you're a creepy fan, or-or something. Listen, I've read 'Misery' ok? That's not gonna happen and you-\" Oliver was tense and worried, failing to find the strength and conviction that he gave to the written word. \n \n\"Misery?\" The voice was almost a giggle, melodious. \"Goodness, no, Mister. Why would I want you to be miserable?\" \n \n\"B-because you're a deranged lunatic?\" \n \nOliver thought he heard the whole house sigh before the voice began again. \"You're the first gentleman caller I've ever had.\" \n \n\"Ok, you're really not straying from my preconceptions so far.\" \n \n\"I've had my cotillion, you know.\" \n \n\"Listen!\" Oliver was grasping for sanity at this point, worried he was already losing it; thinking the house was talking to him. \n \n\"Yes, Sir. Alright. It's just that...\" Her voice trailed off, defeated and hesitant. Oliver regretted his outburst. \n \n\"Just what?\" Oliver kept his voice calm and controlled as he stood and smoothed his clothes. \n \n\"Well, just seein' as you keep lookin' at my portrait, I figured you were...\" \n \nOliver cleared his throat, biting his lower lip as he spun around the room looking for the source of the voice. \"I was what? Is this some kind of trick? I'll call the police, I-wait...your portrait?\" \n \n\"Oh yes, Sir. You pulled it out and cleaned it off and everything. It was frightful dark and lonely there until then.\" \n \n\"You-you're Saffron Finch?\" \n \n\"Of the Carolina Finches, of course. Who else would I be?\" She giggled. \"I heard you mention my name earlier. That's why I figured you'd come to call.\" \n \n\"Ok...\" Oliver tried his best to keep his breathing in check, speaking to an empty house, or the portrait, and hearing a voice come at him in all directions. \"Let's say I believe you. \\-\\-Where are you?\" \n \nSilence. \n \n\"I-I don't know. I haven't tried to see myself.\" Her voice sounded hopeless again. Oliver thought he heard the echoes of pitiful sobbing. \n \nOliver suddenly felt compelled, more than anything, to make her feel better. \"This is your house, right?\" He tried to reason with her a bit. \"What's the last thing you remember?\" \n \n\"I don't...I don't know...I don't know...\" The voice grew softer each time, until, finally, it disappeared completely. \n \nOliver spent what seemed like hours calling her name, going from room to room, hall to hall. He even lit candles around her portrait, asking for her to return. \n \nFinally, exhausted, he gave up and decided to look for sleep instead. \n \n***** \n \nLight streaming through the window finally woke Oliver. He rubbed his eyes as he tried to recall the events of the previous night. He was prepared to write them off as part of some kind of dust-induced delirium until his eyes happened on the other side of the bed. \n \nThe sheets were lifted up in roughly the form of a person's body. When he pulled the sheets back, there was just empty space, but when he draped the sheets back, the form returned. \n \n\"Oh my god...oh my god...oh my...\" Oliver stammered as he stumbled back away from the bed. \n \n\"What?\" It sounded like Saffron again, her voice back to being curious and cheerful. \n \n\"You-! You were sleeping on my bed with me!\" Oliver said, incredulous. \n \n\"I never!\" Saffron shouted back, playful and lyrical. \"You're in my bed in my room. You're sleeping with me!\" \n \nOliver felt his cheeks flush. \"I-I most certainly did not!\" \n \n\"You did!\" \n \nOliver folded his arms against his chest as the form lifted from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her as if to preserve her invisible modesty. \"I didn't.\" \n \n\"Did!\" Saffron giggled, almost squealing with playfulness. \n \n\"Nuh-uh!\" Oliver said, waiving his hands in mock frustration, laughing as he walked out of the room and into the hall. \n \n\"Nuh?\" Saffron asked, curious. Oliver could see the sheet following him into the hallway. \n \n\"Oh, it-\" He thought about it, laughing as he considered that he was having a conversation with a ghost wearing a sheet. He laughed, leaning against the wall. \n \n\"What?\" Saffron asked, prodding Oliver with her sheet. \"What's funny?\" \n \n\"It's...just that I never thought that if I ever met a ghost, she would have the whole white sheet cliche thing...\" \n \nSaffron giggled, poking him with her sheet again, over and over. \n \n\"Alright, alright, stop...\" Oliver teased. \"Wait...hey...do that again.\" \n \n\"Do what?\" \n \n\"Touch me.\" Oliver watched as a dainty sheet-covered finger extended and pushed against his chest. He watched his shirt deform at the contact and felt the pressure. \n \nSaffron giggled and clapped her hands under the sheet. \"I know! I learned how last night! Isn't it fantastic?\" \n \nOliver shot her a sidelong glance. \"While you were in bed with me?\" \n \nSaffron folded her arms. \"Now see here, mister. I am a proper girl, and I do not touch the men who sleep in my bed.\" \n \n***** \n \n",
"Jane knew that this day was coming. Her husband had been in a coma for the past two months and the deadline in his living will had arrived. Knowing her impending reality and living it are different things however. \n\nIn the past two months Jane had spoken to as many people as possible about what to expect, her rabbi, lawyers, friends who had been through it before. Hell, she had to stop herself from accosting random couples on the street. She steeled herself for what was to come as the doctor stepped up to the machines surrounding her once spirited husband. \n\n\"Are you ready Mrs. Ruff? The process should only last a few moments.\" This was an everyday affair for the hospice staff now, but Dr. Kepler tried his best to not let a bored tone enter his voice. He just hoped this one wouldn't stall, after all he did have a tee time coming up.\n\n\"Yes, go ahead Dr.\" Jane knew that she couldn't delay the inevitable, despite maybe wishing otherwise. She had seen the glazed look her friends had developed after just a few weeks and the majority of her dreaded what was to come, while the rest of her felt extremely guilty about that. The doctor gently removed the myriad of tubes surrounding her husband and stepped back. \n\n\"Just a minute now, I'll allow you some privacy. The nurses are just outside should you have any questions.\" Dr. Kepler sighed inwardly, glad to be able to leave early and tried to keep his pace professional while leaving the room.\n\nJane took a deep breath and stretched her face into a smile. She watched as Jack's ghost began to rise up from his now defunct body and his glow increased as his consciousness shifted planes. \n\n\"Jane. What happened? Where are we?\" Jack asked the questions with the curiosity of child. It was hard to be panicked or concerned as a ghost. \n\n\"It's alright Jack.\" Jane replied brightly, she was glad to be able to speak to him again after all. \"There was an accident, but you made it through without any problems.\"\n\n\"Oh\" Jack replied, his glowing form gently pulsing as he hovered above the bed. He'd yet to move since his awakening.\n\n\"Jack dear?\" Jane prompted, a small tear beginning to run down her face.\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"You don't mind that I'm not...all there?\" \n\nThe question hung in the air besides Jack's form.",
"\"You don't mind that I'm not all there?\"\n\nKathy asked him in a distressed and questioning tone.\n\n\"No, I think you are beautifuller thand the othar girls\"\n\nWhile his grammar was not impressive by any means, it was impressive that Peter got any words out of his mouth at all.\n\nJust look at the kid.\n\nHe was swaying around and had dirt stains on his jeans from falling over on the way back from the house party. \n\n\"Thank you, I think you are really cute too. But please, if we go through with this. Do you promise that you won't leave me?\"\n\nIt sounded as though Kathy had gone through some rough one-night stand heartbreaks before, and she wanted to make sure it wouldn't happen again. \n\n\"Nooo, of courss not. You are perfct.\"\n\nThis girl was at a 7/10 on her worst night Peter thought. What would he tell his friends? Was she an 8? Or maybe even a 9? Well, he knew his friends always bumped up their scores, if they even did score any girls for the night. \n\nHe looked her over again.\n\nDefinitely an 8.\n\nA new high score for this semester.\n\nAnd, I must note that Peter went back to Kathy's room willingly. Yes, he was much drunker than her and his vision was impaired, but many sober men have fallen for her trickery. \n\n\"Ok\"\n\nKathy gave him a big smile.\n\n\"Here we go\"\n\nAs she began to lift off her shirt, Peter, licked his lips and rubbed his palms together. This was going to be a great night. Hopefully he could remember when the sun came up. \n\n*GURGLE GURGLE GRRROOOOWWWLLL* - Mr. Stomach\n\n(Aw shut up yah bastard) Peter thought to himself.\n\nHe had only puked once this semester and if it happened tonight, it would be the ultimate cock block by mother nature.\n\nExcept he did it to himself. That last keg stand was brutal, so he shouldn't have been complaining.\n\nIf mother nature wanted to fuck up his night, she would have knocked him out of commission two hours ago. \n\n\"You need help?\"\n\nKathy looked up at him and gave a small frown.\n\n\"No...no. I can do this.\"\n\nAnd after that, she hoisted the shirt above her head.\n\n(Wait are those?) Peter began to think until his stomach began to churn painfully.\n\n(I can pull through!) He now commanded at himself.\n\nKathy now pulled her bra off and everything that went with it.\n\nShe was surprised with his lack of reaction.\n\nBut Peter hadn't looked. He was staring at the ground trying to fight off his inner organs from uprising.\n\n\"Ahem\"\n\nPeter looked up.\n\n\"WHAT THE FU-BLAAAUUGHHHH\"\n\nVomit shot straight down at Kathy's feet and she let out a high pitched screech.\n\n\"uuuughhh\"\n\nPeter moaned painfully. \n\n\"No no no! Why does this always happen to me! Why!\"\n\nKathy screamed into the air.\n\nShe said it in anger towards whoever was listening in the sky, not at Peter.\n\nBut Peter still replied anyways.\n\n\"Why da fuck didn't you tell me you only had one boob?\"\n\n*Bllauuurrrghhhh*\n\n\"Sorry bout the puke though. Not feelin so fine tnight.\"\n\n\n\n",
"\"It's fine,\" James said. \"You're perfect.\" \n\n\"You'll make me blush!\" I replied. \"Well, you would, if not for... Ahem. Are you really sure?\" \n\n\"Entirely. Normal girls aren't for me.\" \n\n\"Hmm.\" \n\nHe leaned back in his chair. \"Here,\" he said, laying his arm against the wooden table. \"Take my hand.\" \n\nI hesitated. \n\n\"It's OK,\" he said again. \"You should relax.\" \n\nI looked at the floor. \"But you know it won't work.\" \n\n\"Trust me.\" \n\nI wanted to. I really did. But what if it put him off? It should put him off. People need real, actual contact. He might not admit it at first, but sooner or later, it would be too much. Or more accurately, not enough. He would grow out of me like an imaginary friend. \n\n\"I'm not sure you really want me to. At least, I don't think you'll keep wanting me to.\" \n\nHe pulled his hand back. \"OK, one step at a time then. At least loosen up a little?\" \n\nI dropped my arms, letting them dangle freely. \n\n\"That isn't loose.\" \n\nI slouched my shoulders, and slightly bent a knee. \n\n\"Nope. It's useless. You look like a statue.\" \n\nI crossed my arms and held my elbows again. \"I feel like it.\" \n\n\"Listen, there's not so much to worry about as you think. Don't look at me like that. Really, there's not.\" \n\n\"Why?\" I said. \"I wish it could, but this,\" I said, trying to gesture at everything, \"can't work. Just think about it.\" \n\n Footsteps approached the door. The bronze handle turned quickly, and a hooded man burst into the room. I looked urgently across the table, but James was relaxed. And the other man didn't seem to see him. He just strode straight on past, and ripped off his jumper, then a heavily stained white t shirt. The man thrust both into the sink, span both taps to full, and squeezed washing up liquid over the clothes. He started scrubbing vigorously. \n\n\"It's my neighbour,\" explained James, noticing the look on my face. \"Really, its all fine. Like I explained, there's nothing to worry about.\" \n\n\"But... He looks like he just killed someone.\" \n\n\"He did. Me.\" \n\n\"Are you kidding me?\" I gasped. \n\n\"Not at all,\" said James, grinning. \"My body's in the hallway.\" \n\nI backed shakily away from the stranger at the sink. \"But why though? I don't understand...\" \n\n\"No good reason. We had an argument about parking. He took my space, I made an observation about his weight - how it might do him some good to walk a little further, and well. Some people have rotten tempers. He followed me inside, and pummeled my skull with a garden gnome. I always thought I'd go more heroically, if I'm honest.\" \n\nThe stranger had stripped to his boxers at that stage, and I found myself in agreement. He did need to walk a LOT more. He glanced warily over his shoulder. I leapt behind the table, then sheepishly returned to my feet. I'm still not used to being invisible. \n\n\"So... You're...\" I stammered.\n\n\"Dead. Yes. Like you... So when I said you could trust me, I really did mean it. Will you try again?\" \n\nHe extended his hand to me once more. I looked again at the stranger, who was splashing foamy water over himself, sponging his body, and wetting the floor. \n\n\"Ignore him,\" said James. \"He's done me a favour in a roundabout way. I don't have to deal with him any longer, and now, it means I can have you.\" \n\nI leant forward, closed my eyes, and gently touched the tips of my fingers on his hand. I could feel it! I opened my eyes; he smiled, and for the first time in a long time, so did I. \n\nI wasn't all there, but then, neither was he. And I was sorry he'd been murdered, but I'm ashamed to admit that in that moment it suited me perfectly. \n\n...\n\nIn that moment, the stranger stepped away from the sink and slipped on the soapy water. His feet accelerated away from him, and he landed heavily on the counter with his head. Limply slumped on the puddled floor, he slowly opened his eyes, and looked dead-straight at the happy pair.\n\n"
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[removed]
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[WP] Myth Prompt
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[
"The Keeper of the Damned- Lord of Wayward Souls\n\nThe Key Maker- Lord of Riddles\n\nThe Fiery Heart- Lady of Light",
"Who moves the Earth? Ask one of the younger gods, Dionysus. It is just Hepaestus's conveyor belts, answers Zues.\n",
"Myths are much more fun when you can put them into a made up world. It sounds like this is a myth for the real world. Personally I like a myth that is focused around something tangible.(Bloody may appearing in mirrors or a haunted house for exmaple.) Without giving you stories to go with them I'll give you myths from my childhood. \n\nSuicide rock- A grafitti covered rock that has a real historical background but was given quite a few stories around my neighborhood. \n\nCharred Cellar- A burned up and abandoned wine cellar in the middle of a park. There is a busted up gate in front of it with large rocks at its feet. Clearly the door has been broken down by having rocks hurled at it. \n\nAbandoned(?) Church- No one ever seems to be at this church. It's modern and new. \n\nThe Tree- A pine tree who's branches come all of the way to the ground. The brush is very thick but there is an opening near the back, hidden by a fence. Inside the tree is very open and can be stood in by an average sized adult. ",
"Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nHomework assignments are not allowed. Use /r/HomeworkHelp instead.\n\n\n\nPlease refer to the sidebar before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to message the /r/WritingPrompts moderators.\n\n---\n\n[Link to the removed post](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3oxebj/wp_myth_prompt/)"
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Bonus points if you can turn the serial killer into the victim.
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[WP] You're the worlds most feared serial killer, your crimes rank you among the most notorious in history. One day, while you are stalking your next victim, you find out they are even more twisted than you.
| 10
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[
"I have saved nine-hundred and ninety-nine people. Nine-hundred and ninety-nine people of all varying creeds and colours. Nine hundred and ninety nine men, women, and children. I did not discriminate, because they all *needed* to be saved. They all needed to saved by *my* pious hands. It was my *duty* to save them, to help them escape from this world of mediocrity, and ascend to the higher planes to be one with the Lord.\n\nBut even *I* must humbly admit, I cannot save some of God's creation, those who are too deep in bed with the Devil.\n\nMy thousandth should have been special. My thousandth *should* have been one of wisdom, or power, or pure of blood. My thousandth should have brought honour to the holy realm and re-ignited the holy fire. But this... this abomination has forced my hands.\n\nI had come here to deem whether he was worthy to be saved, only to find that sickness has been cast upon this threshold. Children, many, many of the Lord's precious children, all bound, or gagged, crying and begging and *suffering*. God's sweet creations, all in some way... *violated*. It fills me with a pious rage.\n\nI will rectify this wrong, but cannot count this as salvation, this monster will not be saved, but instead will rest within the pit it was born from. No, this will not be my thousandth salvation. This is simply revenge, and I will redeem that what was lost here. \n\nI will redeem all.\n",
"Again and again they prove no challenge to me, I'm beginning to not even remember victims from the night before, the first life I took all those months ago was so exhilarating but lately it has become such a bore, and this night started the same as any other.\n\nI wondered into a new bar, in a new city just like I had done every single time as to not attract attention. It was the same as every other one up and down the coast, the late night crowd had just started settling in, and I was eyeing my next victim, I scanned the crowd for someone, anyone that could possibly give me more of a challenge, but all hope seemed lost, these dim witted hipsters paid so little attention to their surroundings that I could most likely take the life of someone inside the bar and no one would even notice. I was beginning to give up home, but then I saw her.\n\nA tall blonde woman from across the bar, me flaunting over her, but she didn't seem interested in those small minded fools, finally I had found someone worthy of being my next trophy. I studied her a few monents then I decided to send her over a drink but as I beckoned the barkeep to order it much to my surprise she walked over and started talking to me. Usually I have to work a little to get these women interested but maybe this wasn't going to be the challenge I thought it was maybe she would be an easier target and I would find my self in a different town onto a new trophy by the end of the night. \n\n\"I saw you staring at me from across the room.\" She began as she rubs her hand up the arm of my suit. Impossible I thought, she hadn't looked in my direction once, \" I know beauty when I see it.\" I explained, \"Oh and what makes you think you know me?\" She asks. \"I've know many women of your type, they are all the same.\" I insist, She removes her hand from my coat. \"You've never met anyone like me\" She says as she pushes her hair back behind her ear. Why is this woman forcing herself onto me like this. No matter at this point its all but decided, she will be my next trophy. We continue talking for a few hours until we decide to leave together. \n\nMy heart is starting to beat faster as we walk down the narrow alleys back toward my hotel room, she seems as eager as I am to move our little two person party into a more secluded location, she doesn't realize that my motivation for privacy is much more sinister. We arrive at the hotel room and I start to go through my routine, i ask her if she would like a drink and I tell her that im going to freshen up by taking a quick shower, in reality I keep my tools inside my bag in the restroom, she agrees and I'm off to prep. Before I can even open my bag there is a knock at the bathroom door, I open it to find no one there, I step into the room to find her and suddenly i feel something wet on the back of my head, i run my hand through my hair and suddenly darkness. \n\nI open my eyes but my vision is blurry, I cant move my extremities other, all of them are bound other than my right arm, but it feels strange, it takes me a few moments but I gain a little more perception of my surroundings, my potential \"victim\" standing over me. \n\n\"Did you enjoy your nap\" she asks, \"what is this, what have you done\", \"I've been watching you for quite sometime, studying your methods. Do you remember Denver? Do you remember the woman you picked up that night, remember the way you tortured her, maimed her, left her body scared and disfigured?\". I couldn't remember, it had been to long, there had been much more exciting victims. \" You don't even remember the way they found her body, charred to a crisp, her right hand the only thing that was left unblemished\". My vision is finally becoming clear and I realize the reason my right arm hasn't been bound. Its burnt to a crisp, the bone seeping through the melted flesh \"You left me her right arm, now I take yours!\" \n ",
"John Johnson, a name common in nearly every household in the civilized world. When I was young, I saw no point in life. Not being able to confide in the lies of religion I told myself that I had to leave my mark on this stupid rock. I planned to found a famous company, like Steve Jobs did with Apple. He is a legend in my books, so is Bill Gates. I had a relatively easy childhood, my parents we aristocrats. Now you may ask, why is my name common? Well it is really quiet simple. I achieved my goal. I have left my mark on countless families. However instead of leaving it on their bank statements, I have left a mark on their loved ones with knifes and axes and drills and lawnmowers. I have removed many from the splinter that is the earth.\n\nShould I add more. ",
"I *love* my victims, every one of them. Each person I killed was just a little bit *different* from the rest of us. Each one like a work of art, who I made *into* my own work of art. And every one of them was a *masterpiece*, if only you have a taste for it.\n\nOnly once, have I ever picked out a victim and realized that I couldn't make them into my masterpiece. I can't tell you when or where I found her, but I can tell you what it was like. I meet my victims personally, to get to *know* what they're like. It's how I make art- how can know what the right way for them to die is if I don't *know* them? Sure, it's dangerous, if the police ever connect my masterpieces to one person, but that's the game, isn't it? That's what we all live with, killers like me.\n\nI talked to her, several times, and I felt like I *got* her. Like she was going to be my next work of art. I can't tell you what it was- you don't get to know who she is, I can't give you anything- but I thought I knew. And so I went to her house, one Friday evening, with my knives and my chains and my icepick and I was going to make her intosomething *beautiful*. And do you know what I found, when I went inside? Do you know what I found?\n\nA body. Not hers, oh no, she had just put it on her dinner table, sliced like a ham and cut open for me, as she stood, looking at my knives and my tools and smiling, just smiling, as she said \"Oh, did you want to kill yourself? There are two more in the basement, if you want them.\"\n\nOooooh, there were. There *were*. And suddenly, I felt something strange, as the two of us walked down and saw the young couple chained to the wall, beaten bloody and wimpering for mercy. I didn't *care* about the victims, this time. I cared about her, about sharing this with her, about being *together* for once.\n\nI love her, my wife. We've been together ever since that day, and I don't think we'll ever be apart. Because I have *never* known anyone as beautifully *twisted* as her."
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[WP] You are alone in the universe. Occasionally, reality conforms to what you are thinking, but nothing living or resembling living will ever form.
| 81
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[
"I was left here by less noble creatures than I could ever have known. I've grown used to being lonely, but sometimes after a failure, it becomes too much to bear.\n\n\nIn the early stages of the movement entitled \"The Ascent\", I lived on Earth. It was old and crumbling, faltering from the burden of troublesome children. Life was life, and I was lucky. Born into moderate wealth that far outweighed the other half of humanity, I never knew hunger or true pain, or the despair that was the consequence of unchecked growth. Inhabiting the highest deck on a sinking ship wasn't enough I suppose, because technology allowed the rich another way out.\n\n\n\"The Ascent\" was a movement not unlike the Singularity, just a little less spectacular sounding. It began as a virtual reality sim and grew into something so much more. Bloated, rich consciousnesses loaded into virtuality, to wait out the race for the dwindling resources and space was the inevitable step, and people flocked from the harsh realities of living on Earth. Time inside the virtuality could be changed, sped up or slowed down, depending on whatever you thought was going to happen in the future. It was a universe in itself. Subjectively it was immortality, the real choice being in whether you wanted to see what happened to the human race. I chose to wait it out and see. Turns out I chose wrong.\n\n\nLying inside the Ascent booth was the most terrifying moment of my human life. It took me three days to work up the courage and go into the clinic. When the \"switch\" happened, something went wrong. There was no simulation, no created universe for myself, no other inhabitants, nothing. Literally nothing. I was alone, and I didn't even know it.\n\n\nI don't know how long that period of time was, because I couldn't, didn't exist. There is no way to find out either, I'm just luckily I began existing again at all. With me beginning to think, something came out of nothing and I began anew. I had my previous knowledge, but all I had back then was my own consciousness, floating in the black of nothing. Black is the wrong way to describe it, because that would have meant something was existing, the absence of something. Nope, all I had was my mind, and I began to grow very, very lonely.\n\n\nThen I realized I was a god. This was my universe, and I could make life again, cure my loneliness, make the world wholesome, meaningful. This was my chance. I could do anything I wanted and more.\n\n\nWith this realization, I began to create. There was no limit to my resource, all the time to waste I would ever need. I created, and tweaked and went through the process of learning how to simulate my own universe back on Earth. My first try was to copy all I knew from Earth. This first try had vast numbers of brainless autonomous machines roaming a barren landscape and it was all very interesting and all, but it seemed impossible to form a consciousness. There was no way for me to just put parts together and pull out a thinking, living organism, but I tried. Over and over and over again, for countless eons. I grew tired of my machines.\n\n\nEventually I began to simulate my previous universe, to play god from a quasi-deterministic perspective. I could create parameters, starting conditions, everything needed to create life the old fashioned way. I lived out the lifetimes of countless universes omnipotent and omniscient, controlling everything or letting it run its own course. It never did create anything quite like us humans, or anything remotely resembling my own consciousness. Not in the infinite permutations of all the universes I could ever create.\n\n\nThis is truly hell. To be trapped here forever, to know how humanity squandered our precious home. To be alone.\n\n",
" I have lived to see the fall of Man, the sun burn out and collapse, one by one the stars have winked out of existence, and I persist. I have forgotten what it was to have another living thing around me. \n I sit and wonder how I got to this place, a mad experiment gone wrong? No... Perhaps I was chosen, or maybe it has always been this way. I think of my past and things will appear, sometimes as simple as a desk, or as complex as a city, but no matter how fleshed out these locals are they are completely devoid of life. I roam these empty ghost towns of my creation wrestling with these powers of creation and their limitations. How? How could I create something more?! ANYTHING?! ANYONE?! I scream and writhe in fury. My anger at this hopelessness and loneliness bursts from my being into bright white light. I push the very universe in every direction, a great blast fueled by wanting it all to simply end. I close my eyes and curl legs and arms to my chest defeated, but then, I see a light. \n A bright burning orb and dust whirling into rocks orbiting it. I do not need to create those living things from my past, but simply put the things there for life to begin again. A simple chain reaction, one that will start with two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen. Here, this third rock will do.",
"The flesh of men and women I took so easily for granted has proven to be my undoing. I formed a face and spent a Millenia focusing on just letting it talk, only to realize I was the voice the entire time. I sent it to the hole with the others for it to dissolve, or wherever such abhorrations go when I cast them aside.\n\nDuring a stroll through one of my favorite realms, the snow fields, I fancied the idea of perhaps studying a few snow flakes. I remember some talk of each one being unique and impossible to have two of a kind. To my dismay, after studying merely 6,823 I found a disturbing pattern: the architecture of each flake was limited to my own geometric imagination. Could it be that even the inanimate are tainted by the limits of my previously mortal conscience?\n\nSlowly a paradox was forming. One in which all that I observed to some degree was only capable of behaving exactly as I expected it to. Somehow I knew all along, far before I destroyed the volcanic seas of inferno in my tantrum, before I shattered the seas and tossed the star clusters into utterly typical explosions; drivel that only I could have possibly designed. For all I knew, stars were supposed to implode. Such things were no concern to me in life, and now it is but one of many questions gating the keep to my sanity.\n\nAfter my emotion subsided, I came to a simple conclusion: given infinite time , pondering a solution seemed the most appropriate. I had to look deep within myself to understand the fault. Barely half a century into meditation yielded an astonishing epiphany. While I may be granted the ability to bring things into existence, it is done through the only absolute force here beyond myself: the building blocks. In their truest form they function only in two forms, being and unbeing; on and off. Try as I might've, I could not alter this one law. \n\nTests have been steady progress. I've formed what I am almost certain is an electron. Protons are proving to be more difficult.\n\nI should have celebrated when I formed that first atom. Unfortunately the idea of downing some of my \"artificial\" liquor was far too disgusting to fathom. Literally.\n\nMolecules made a lot more sense than I thought they would. This is a very efficient manner of having matter exhibit different properties. I think I'm getting the hang of this. I have to stop sometimes to remind myself of the world I'm trying to build again. Occasionally it occurs to me I could just start from scratch, but somehow the idea of leaving the image of the world to myself seems a farce matched only by my oldest attempts at creation.\n\nComplex structures of plasma are literally forming themselves. Holy shit. At this rate the world would have been nothing but a single basic matter cluster , so I had to scrap it. \n\nIt was so simple! After a few configurations of the interactions between energy and mass I've automated the electron spread process to populate the world with lots of different elements. If only I knew the chemical compound for alcohol.\n\nPlacing them like pieces on a board isn't working. Colliding them isn't working either. \n\nWell, I found alcohol in a nebula. A lot of it. I was passed out for at least a decade. The rest can be scrapped but this nebula is staying with me.\n\nPerhaps it was a mistake to keep the alcohol cloud. My judgement has been poor as of late, and I'm prone to more powerful mood swings. Last I remember I grew upset at a tongue-in-cheek attempt at mostly hydrogen universe, and let the whole thing explode into existence instead of my usual methods. It's a mess I'll clean up after this hangover subsides.\n\nToday I awoke to galaxy clusters. With star systems. And planets. And... Primordial glop. Nothing going on in the one I visited though. It looked like it needed a push, all those proteins unfolded and bumping around without form. I cast lightning enough to get them to form some primitive nuclei, or whatever they called them. After waiting and watching them form, I quickly went back to the alcohol nebul- shit. I still have that. \n\nOh well.\n\nThe drinking has gone on long enough. I awoke again only to find that the planet had evolved life, had that life obliterated by a myriad of natural occurrences I could have stopped, and they had been replaced by an entirely new round of organisms. You couldn't begin to imagine the flurry of sensations rushing through me. Merely a few trillion years ago I was absolutely alone, and in that moment I was the caretaker for a planet of new pets. I couldn't wait until some of them became sentient. \n\nI sat and watched, amazed at the autonomy of them all. Living now to suit the needs of the cells that carried their genes, but some day they could live to be so much more. They could be thinkers and makers, like me. I immediately decided I would personally meet the best intelligent ones and teach them what I knew.\n\nIt's been 10,000 years since the first one could start asking existential questions. This question gathered them, caused them to build cities and fight wars and dream about all of their own answers to the question. If I told them now that the simple answer is that I was lonely, I would be breaking the hearts of many of them in the name of my own closure. I couldn't do that to them. Not all of them. Not a single one deserved to have that taken from them. Their ideas of right and wrong though partially based on instinct to keep each other safe for procreation, are akin to my own in many ways. They fail to realize that the nature of their strife is in the many experiences of those who commit atrocities. They don't understand each other and it is their short life spans and narrow interests in that time keeping them from caring to learn. But they try in their own way. I have to continue to let them on this path.\n\nI awoke to the strange buzzing sound of innumerable space craft. It's only been 5,000 years since I witnessed their first crawl into space. Now my favorite life forms are among the finest in their galaxy.\n\nThey found the alcohol nebula and started using it for fuel. Good riddance.\n\nWell they did it. They discovered dimensional folding powerful enough to cross to other galaxies. They're building a ship large enough to carry entire star systems inside the hull to bring with them in an effort to combat the entropy. I have no intentions of slowing the heat death, I want to see what they come up with. This ship thing is interesting.\n\nNo, no no no no, no! My favorite species was captured and swallowed by an even larger trans-galactic ship. They're going to die out unless they show some mercy. I've stayed out of it for this long, but can I any further?\n\nSomehow they took the ship, but most of them have cross bred with the captors, it looks like they kept their reproductive capabilities hostage and bargained a hybridization from within the hull. This is getting weird.\n\nWell, they're down to maybe a few hundred galaxies to salvage. The most unspread matter found in the universe is officially their gargantuan ship. It's literally swallowing everything whole. I've been eavesdropping to see what their top researches can come up with. I'd truly love to see what would happen should they attempt that many worlds theory based device. A universe a different me built? Maybe I could come too.\n\nThey funded the super colossal tractor beam instead. Fuck.\n\nAnd that's it. No way for them to tell if their tractor beam is pulling on anything across the universe, they're a fish gasping for water. The energy they radiate from the ship is literally a leak too great. Ironically the ship's design to never implode from gravity would be their downfall; at least that would form a few million more galaxies. \n\nThey're huddling up now, crowding together for comfort. I've seen the end of countless individual lives and yet this is unlike the end of any life I've witnessed. It follows no patterns of acceptance or tendencies of chaos. It's nothing but hope. \n\nThen I see it. Or rather, them. Me. They're setting him on a course far beyond the edge of the universe with all of their collected energy. Some mad man has converted the whole damned thing into a kind of conduit for a new dimension, and they plan on using everything and everyone on board as fuel to get this one through.\n\nIt is at this moment that I realize that this universe despite it's surprises and lessons... Is still only all that I have ever experienced. It is still a product of only that which I can comprehend and in that nature what I sought to leave behind. I allowed them to struggle, grow, and conquer, only to have them come knocking on my doorstep in no better a position than myself.\n\nBack to the drawing board.\n",
"I've seen everything. I've seen stars go nova, seen gas giants ignite, watched galaxies merge. I've seen neutron stars collide, watched the chaotic dance of planets, seen moons get ripped apart by tidal forces. When the universe gets too cold, I can make more. But it gets boring.\n\nI mastered my god-like powers long ago. Long gone are the ages of leaving it to chance. The universe listens to my whims, but no matter how much I listen, I never hear anything back. I seem to be truly alone. Making life, or any sort of intelligence, is the one thing outside my abilities.\n\nStill, I got tired of making everything, so I found myself a nice solar system near the edge of a galaxy. Two of the rocky planets had large oceans. The smaller one didn't have much of a magnetic field, so I didn't waste any time there. But the larger one looked more promising. I gave it a little kick. A bit of hydrogen cyanide, some hydrogen sulfide.\n\nNow I wait.",
"I can't express the amount of loneliness I feel. It wasn't always this way. I wasn't always the only living being in the universe. Through science and luck, I became immortal. What I hadn't considered was I couldn't make anyone else immortal. As Earth died, humanity went with it after only 230 years. Since then, I have looked for life in other parts of the universe, but I believe I am it. \n\nI also have a unique ability. I can create things with my mind. I can't control it yet, but it's not life or even resembling anything living. This talent does keep the boredom from driving me insane. I drift through the coldness of space and have been for perhaps two million years now. I travel through blackholes, and I've passed through stars. I prefer the insane heat to the coldness of space. I can't describe the beauty of the core of a star. I wish there were someone I could share it with.\n\nWhen I find a planet, I spend some time there. I found a place like Earth. It was beautiful. I make structures with my mind sometimes. Sometimes, I dream, and wake up to find a cityscape has been formed. I rebuild the Statue of Liberty, the Space Needle, the Grand Canyon, what I remember of Yellowstone National Park, and a giant pelican statue from my boyhood home. The structures exacerbate my loneliness. \n\nI want to see what I look like. I haven't seen my image in so long that I barely remember my looks. I find a pool of water and look at myself. I am a remnant of my former self. I look like Gollum from Lord of the Rings, minus My Precious. \n\nTo combat my endless loneliness, I create warm things that I cuddle and hold. I desire a conversation, the touch of something. I would take a pet, something. I need a change. I begin to think and think and think about a wormhole. Wormholes are a rip in the fabric of space time, the time aspect is important. If I can go back to Earth in the past, I won't be alone, and I might be able to save it. Then, one day, the wormhole appears, like magic. I wait four days before I travel through it simply out of fear. What if it doesn't work? What then? There's only one way to know. \n\n***\n\nEarth appears before me. The moon is just starting to form. The ghostly image of the young sun is comforting after a while. Earth is young and molten, but, if I wait long enough, there will be life. At least, that is what I hope. \n\nBillions of years pass. I watch life form again. To not be alone is so alien to me, but life continues until humans appear again. I am approaching ten billion years of age. My skin is grey, my teeth are worn to nubs. I am a frightful sight, but I give them fire and the wheel and help to develop technology. As generations pass, they begin to revere me as a god. In this position, I might be able to change the future and save humanity, and, then, I will never be alone again. \n***\nIf you like this story, I have more stories available at my subreddit: r/nickkuvaas"
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[
2,
2,
4,
7,
30
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[
"1445085068",
"1445104506",
"1445100819",
"1445085882",
"1445078735"
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|
[WP] You've just escaped a "Groundhog Day" loop, only to find out that everything you did while to trying to escape has a consequence on the world outside the loop.
| 102
|
[
"Alright. Dodge to the left, and he'll miss me with the defensive axe attack. One right step into a shoulder tackle will send the axe flying. A jump off the floor at 32 degrees will ensure that my feet are at proper range to kick the axe. But only after a delay of 1.3 seconds, so that I don't get my own foot like the three million other times. This time, instead of using all my might, which would spin the axe around and only strike him with the handle, I have to use 83% of maximum. And....go!\n\n\n\nThe axe is sent flying. As it soars, Jacobs eyes fill with fear at his impending doom. It enters Jacobs head, and gets stuck on the opposite wall, blood spatter flying all over the place. Well, I've finally found the perfect solution to this particular encounter. Now, I just have to take his key and retrieve the ball I need to secure Donald's loyalty. From there I'll have the maximum number of people allied to me who can help me escape this loop.\n\n\n\nAs I pick his pockets for the key, though, something shifts. A scream erupts from Jacob, as his body reanimates. It's still stuck on the axe, but it's almost as if he's both there and not there at the same time. This...was definitely new. \n\n\n\"WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL!? WHAT THE HELL! GYAH!\" Well, it was apparent that he was feeling the pain of having an axe stuck in him. Then, his attention turns to me, somehow focusing through the pain.\n\n\n\"You. YOU DID THIS TO ME!\" He moves through the axe like a ghost, then grabs it. Okay, I've done this before. Just anticipate his moves, and move to the side. There's no way he'll...I promptly get a finger cut off. Well, this is inconvenient. At least my pain receptors are still shut down. It seems like he knows how I moved to get him last time. I spring back, taking off my shirt to form a bandage and limit the blood loss.\n\n\n\"Why...Why do I remember killing you so many times? Why did you attack me all those times? Who put these memories in my head?\" Intriguing. Jacob has evidently kept all of the memories from the previous loops. That'd make taking him on considerably more difficult. The only logical solution is to turn and run. But even as I begin to run he leaps forward. Darn it, another miscalculation. Previously, he had been fighting back in self-defense, but now that he had roughly two years worth memories involving me attacking him out of the blue any reluctance to kill me has vanished. Still, I just have to escape the school, and I can turn to the others for help...\n\n\nLeaping out the third story window, I roll as I impact onto the ground. That had been essential for escaping Daniel's bomb when I antagonized him on purpose to generate sympathy towards me and discredit his psychologist who had been working and succeeding in helping Daniel through his mental issues, making it easier to manipulate her. But enough reminiscing about failed routes. \n\n\nJacob obviously can't follow me (He probably thought I was dead), so I should take the opportunity to hide. Maybe hiding with Megan would be a good idea? She should be my romantic partner in this route, so she's more inclined to help me than anyone else. She's also relatively close to my current position. Mind made up, I sprint towards her house. When I get there, I'll spin a tale about how Jacob has gone insane, and thinks I've killed him before. They'll never believe him if he goes to the police. \n\n\nComing up on the door, I compose myself. Ringing the doorbell, I announce my presence. The music blasting from Megan's room upstairs have stopped, and I hear a scrambled noise as she apparently reaches for something. Hmm, she's taking a while to come down. The door opens. I wonder what...\n\n\n**BOOM**\n\n\nThe shotgun blast rips through my lower abdomen. Buckshot tunnels deep into my flesh, inflicting heavy damage to my internal organs. Even though my body has gotten used to the pain, it still can't function if it's missing the organs. I collapse onto my knees, as Megan steps outside. Her eyes are unhinged, filled with bloodlust. And at the same time tears. Huh, it's just like her face when I killed her during that information gathering route, when I had to torture her for her knowledge on the others...oh.\n\n\n\"YOU BASTARD!\" \n\n\nI...might have miscalculated. \n\n\n\n**BOOM**",
"Day 3,067-ish. Started adding \"-ish\" after going on that bender 576-ish days ago. Did I lose a day? Was that even possible? I never woke up hungover, but that was the only day I couldn't remember what happened the day (or days) before.\n\nBut anyway, today is different. It's the same, but different. Still the same date. Still the same weather. Still the same people. But something is off. \n\nAs always, I get in my car, start the ignition, push a button, and \"...Syrian refugee crisis continues to worsen, as European leaders scramble to find common ground in what appears to be a growing quagmire.\" Same words, but something was off. They sounded... bored? Dreary even. That never happened before. I paused, sat perfectly still, looking at my radio like it would explode any second. Heart racing. What is going on? \n\nI was going to make today a standard day. I did that from time to time. It was like a weekend. Sure it was fun to go on a murder spree. Or to make lewd advances toward every woman in sight just to discover who was willing (damn, Margaret, I never would have thought). And there were the self-improvement days. But occasionally, I just wanted to drive to St. Aloysius High School, greet everybody, and teach class as I would have 3067-ish days ago.\n\nI changed. Nothing else did. Until today. What is going on? Wary, I pulled out of my parking space in the apartment lot and rolled out into my daily commute, until I stop at the intersection of Main and Georgia. Where was old Phelma and her little dog? Every morning, I stop her to let the barely mobile octogenarian and her equally decrepit schnauzer scoot interminably across the street. \n\nWell, most mornings. Somewhere around day 2,314, I started using her to perform macabre physics experiments involving my compact hatchback. People in my world are 24-hour bop bags. Including me. I am a bop bag among bop bags. So occasionally, I would accept the hit-and-run as a part of my day. Turns out that, after 6 fewer red lights, offing Phelma and Snookie resulted in a solid 20-minute shorter commute.\n\nToday, she's nowhere to be found. I can't accept this. I put the car in park and step out into the slight chill. Leaving it humming in the road, I start down the direction whence Phelma always trods. Sickly barking--actually, more of a *heff, heff, heff*, startles me from the right. There's the schnauzer, behind a hedge, tugging at her bleached pink leash, leading to... \"Phelma? Ma'am?\"\n\n\"GET AWAY FROM ME.\" She was crouched, almost in fetal position, behind the hedge. \"MURDERER. MURDERER. LEAVE ME ALONE.\" Her face shaking, her eyes, wide with fear and hatred, she jowled her rage while failing to contain substantial spittle.\n\nI stagger back. Same day, same people, but what the hell is this?"
] |
[
3,
30
] |
[
"1445099603",
"1445082296"
] |
|
[WP] You are a sentient object. One day, someone dies while using/interacting with you. (Potentially NSFW)
| 8
|
[
"So this old motherfucker, yeah? He takes years to shit. I sit on my perch, and I have nothing better to do than watch him. There's only a few layers above me. I'll be used soon.\n\nI dread it. Like, shit man. Literally. And that's not the worst of it; I get tossed into a pot *with his shit* and a few ass hairs stuck to me once I've been used.\n\nHe's huffing and wheezing, probably nearly done. If I had a lip, I'd have chewed it apart in anxiety. He reaches at the roll with his gnarled hand, and pulls off a few squares. Those poor guys.\n\nI'd hate to go first. You'd think us tp squares would enjoy our job, but I dunno. Personally, I think its real shitty, and there's no way for me to ask the guys connected to me so I suppose we'll never know. He's reaching again.\n\n*Ow!*\n\nHe yanked off the square next to me. Damn near tore me in half. I'm next. Will he finish? Will I have to wait till his next trip to the bathroom? Maybe that old bitch who never locks the door will use me.\n\nOh god. Oh god.\n\nHe's reaching again. \n\nAll I can do is watch helplessly. The second tear was overridden by adrenaline. I'm terrified. He presses me against his rectum. This is disgusting. I would rather burn than this.\n\nBut nothing happens. I stay there, stuck.\n\nHis sphincter starts convulsing, and I can feel his whole body moving. He stops, and stays still.\n\n---\n\nIt's been hours since he last moved. His asshole is cold, and quite frankly, it's worse like this. Not only am I forced to collect shit, I've been stuck to a dead guy's ass for hours on end.\n\nI finally fall. The long silver hairs and crusted faeces couldn't hold me up forever. As I tumble into the water, I curse all the Gods I can think of.\n\nI land in the bowl, and drown in a dead guy's shit. What a life.",
"It's a tough life being a hammer. Every day having your face driven into nails. No one but me seems to hear their screams and those of every other thing in the world. The only difference is I understand the animals that use us. \n\nToday is another day, Ted is going to the construction site. He tosses me and the other tools in the seat of his car.\n\n\"What's he talking about, Stanley?\" Phillips knows I can understand them so he makes sure to ask every chance he gets. \n\n\"Shh! He's on about someone named Eric and his girl— I said quiet, Phil, dammit! He's not going to work as far as I can gather.\" Minutes pass and we stop. Apparently not at the new condo development. I don't know what's going on Tim Ex is telling me it's like 6 am.\n\nTed grabs me but not the other tools.\n\n\" Look at the favorite tool everyone! Screw you Stan!\" Robertson is just jealous because he is useless outside of Canada.\n\n\" Yeah, try to with your square head Rob!\" I yell back.\n\nI'm upside down and everything is wrong. He's holding me too tight and walking too fast. When he rings a doorbell. Someone answers the door and they begin arguing about banging or something. Maybe they need me to show them how to hit things? I don't know.\n\n Suddenly I am up and then face first into the man's skull. It's red and sticky. Is this what they're like on the inside? Gross. I feel Ted let me go. Why is he leaving me. It feels like I'm moving with this Eric fellow now, but falling over. I hear some muffled banter from the key hook and door, but no one's coming. I've been left to rust in the blood and Manufacturer knows what else."
] |
[
3,
6
] |
[
"1445133211",
"1445131789"
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|
[WP] A thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world.
| 13
|
[
"Four rivers converged at the heart of our once fair city. The rivers were our lifeblood, flowing steady and strong through the canal that wove through the streets. Our waters were clean and pure. Seafood was readily available year round in the Western markets. Minerals and precious stones were carried along by the currents where they were deposited on the East end. We crafted healing salves and elixirs from the bounty of our rivers on the North side. In the south, they grew magnificent crops of fruit and vegetables. Everything we wanted was provided for us by these sacred streams.\n\nTravelers came from neighboring cities and distant lands alike to experience what our rivers had to offer. Our economy boomed from local and foreign trade. Shops and hotels sprang up seemingly overnight to compensate for the growing need. We were are peaceful and kindly people. We were proud of our fair city. It gleamed like a diamond embedded into the earth. Our light called out to everyone far and near. Not once did we consider that there were some who would take advantage of us; people who harbored resentment or ill will towards us.\n\nTrash began to appear in the filters around town. It was negligible at first and we wrote it off as some ill mannered tourists or some sort of mishap. More plastic and tin began to appear in the grates and wrapped around our fish. As we began to investigate the matter, sludge and oil appeared in the river. Our waters had a sharp sheen and our aquatic life turned belly up. The citizens were in a panic. They were pointing fingers at the outsiders and at each other. What had taken centuries to build and maintain was being destroyed in decades. A thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world. Overnight it had become another sump of the Earth.\n\n-292",
"Shimmering jade spires, marble streets exploding in every direction, pools of gold in every man's vault. Silandria stood alone in the world, an effervescent symbol of prosperity. Within its one-hundred-foot walls, one could begin to think that safety wasn't a delusion, that hunger pangs weren't a central part of the human condition. A thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world.\n\nNow, Silandria is a husk. A dried, cracking carapace. Vagrants seep through the gaps in its impregnable walls. Heavy metal particulates seep into its fresh springs. Carrion beetles and overgrown thistle occupy the once bustling market square.\n\nSoggy old billboards advertising health insurance are buried under several feet of ivy and moss. One of the few lampposts still upright hasn't tasted electricity in a millenium. Power plants tend toward not operating when their operators flee.\n\nIt's not all bad, though. Silandria found other ways to thrive. You see it under murky lighting from the collapsed subway tube roof. Hundreds of merchants line the walls, peddling their goods in broken English. The palpable scent of unwashed man doesn't dissuade buyers.\n\nOne can find just about anything here. A grimy man barely contained by his loincloth is selling leathery human toes, a potent aphrodisiac. Another man in a patchwork tweed suit is selling travel-size shampoo bottles from behind the protection of three more-ape-than-man bodyguards. They dislike eye contact.\n\nBuyers barter for their goods. Half of a box of .22 Long Rifle bullets in return for a 'new' pair of leather boots. *Moby Dick* for a stained woolen cap. What good is a book if you're going to freeze to death? Books don't burn long. \n\nA millenium of Silandrian Exceptionalism, as they used to call it, followed by a millenium of Silandrian Debasement. Is it fair? Probably not. But hey, the bomb sure helped us get rid of those smug bastards.",
"\n“Will you talk?”\n\nAnother crack of the whip. Another scream. Tears staining the sandstone floor of the imperial palace. The king’s shadow reached out from the throne to grace the columns and the stones, the statues and the blood. Torches placed along the walls bathed the room in dancing, crimson light, while pleas for mercy echoed off the walls. A young man, barely twenty, lay bent and broken before the king. His back was wrecked with scars and blood trickled down his hardened skin, leaving orange stains on the yellow stone below. His eyes flickered to the corner of the room. Two guards in black armor. A screaming girl in a violet skirt, too young to know what was going on. Another crack of the whip. Another scream.\n\n“You will look at your king when he addresses you,” barked the assailant. Sweat poured down the broken man’s face as he struggled to lift up his head. The king’s face was expressionless, stoic, like a demon or a statue in the firelight.\n \n“Will you talk?” He asked again, his voice soft and sweet like honeyed bread. The man could barely open his mouth to speak. There was nothing left to say. Another crack of the whip. Another scream. He felt like his spirit was dying within him. Like his breath refused to come. Every breath was tinted with the iron tang of blood. The king spoke again.\n\n“You set your sword against the greatest empire that mankind has ever known, and now your tongue goes slack?” Another crack of the whip. Another scream. “The Gods have blessed this city with power and wealth. Foreign peoples flock here in droves to see its splendor. Yet you – you who are privileged enough to live within its walls – you seek to destroy all that I have accomplished?”\n\n“No man . . . should be owned.” The broken man croaked. The king’s brow furrowed as he waived his meager hand. Another crack of the whip. Another scream.\n\n“The labor of slaves built this city,” said the king, reaching into a golden brazier beside him and pulling out a burning coal with his naked fingers. “Slaves built its roads and its temples, its gardens and its sewers. It’s thanks to slaves that this city is the jewel of the world. Would you see that undone?”\n\nWith a nod of the king’s head, two guards dragged a wooden box of dry straw to the center of the floor. The king absentmindedly flicked the coal into the air, watching it tumble down through the empty space and skitter across the floor, coming to rest well short of the box. The same guards marched toward the broken man, and, with little effort grabbed him beneath the arms and lifted him to his feet. Instantly, his eyes shot open, and he turned toward the girl at the side of the room.\n\n“Don’t watch this!” He cried, his voice filled with anguish and terror. It felt like his legs were going to fall out from under him as his eyes scanned the straw, imagining it catching fire with him inside. Her face was anguished; drowning in tears and disfigured with pain as she begged for her father’s safety. The king smirked and raised his boyish face, striking blue eyes gleaming with menace in the firelight.\n\n“Don’t worry. She won’t be watching.” \n\nThe guard at her side picked her up with one hand, dangling her by the wrist like she was some kind of undesirable animal before throwing her gracelessly onto the straw. It was like an arrow pierced his heart. His body was roaring, pleading for him to react, to lash out against the king and fight, but all his energy was gone. Whether it was shock or exhaustion from the beating, he would never know, but he couldn’t bring himself to do more than stare as the king plucked another coal from the brazier.\n\n“I want you to remember, now, that you once considered yourself an honorable man.” The king mocked, flicking the glowing coal into the box with expert precision. A guard drew his sword, the silver blade shining orange in the torchlight. The girl was hypnotized, her eyes flicking back and forth from the blade to her father, afraid to move even as smoke began to rise from the box. Two guards came in, carrying a slab of wood between them, and the broken man was turned around and pushed toward the palace entrance.\n\n“Go,” he ordered, “and remember what happens when you cross a king.”\n\nHe heard the girl calling his name as though he were underwater. One step forward. Shrieking. The sound of hammers. One step forward. The crack of burning wood. Another scream. One step forward.\n\n“Bring in the next one.” The king ordered.\n\nOne step forward.\n\n***\n\nThere was another rally happening in the park. Some asshole with a megaphone and a tiny dick trying to give his life a little bit of meaning by waving around a flag and pretending to be better than other people. It was the kind of thing that made Simon want to leave the country.\n\n“One thousand years ago, this city was the jewel of the world!” He yelled. It was an old talking point from way back in the days of King Bastion the First, but by that time it was mostly used by disgruntled old racists longing for the good old days. You know, the good old days when they were the biggest country in the world and people could be stoned to death for not wearing the right hat to church.\n\nAs soon as he heard the megaphone, he packed up his history book and stood up to leave. He had often considered giving these people a lesson on Bastion. How he was a whiny fifteen-year-old psychopath with an inferiority complex. How he was molded and manipulated by his advisors to such a degree that nothing written in his own hand had survived to the present day. How he had stumbled into most of his military victories by accident and how his empire was built on industrial amounts of slave labor.\n\nBut Simon was hungry, and he had a test to study for, so he zipped up his backpack and walked past the statue of King Bastion the First – the national hero – and down the asphalt path toward home. \n\n\n(Got interrupted while writing this and had to stop early, but I think it turned out alright)",
"\"What happened to the city, dad?\"\n\nI smiled, brushing my daughter's hair out of her eyes, \"We don't really know. Legends speak of a great battle that took place,\" I remembered the stories when I was a kid, the way my dad always told them. \"That this battle decided the fate of humanity and their ancestors, that the three races joined together to stop an evil so great that only a combined force could beat them.\"\n\n\"But why did the city fall?\"\n\n\"The battle tore through it's streets and destroyed the very essence that made the city so great. We had no choice to abandon it,\" I remembered how my father told me of the fall, how one race turned against the others. \"It was the only way we could survive.\"\n\n\"Do you think we'll ever go back?\"\n\nI smiled, a child's dream that we all had at one point in our lives. But once you turned eighteen you found out the truth, and the truth is never as it seems. \"One day when we are stronger,\" I held my daughter's hand, encouraging her, \"maybe the three races will return so a new era of prosperity can rise.\"\n\n\"I hope we do one day, dad,\" my daughter buried her face into her pillow, \"I hope.\"\n\nI smiled and kissed her on the forehead, \"Get some sleep,\" I sat up from the bed and nodded. A child's dream that the city could flourish once again, that's all it ever was.\n\n___\n\n\"What news from the front?\"\n\n\"They are pushing on all sides from the city center, but we're holding them inside.\"\n\n\"Reinforcements?\"\n\n\"Not needed, but some more ammunition and explosives would help.\"\n\n\"Frederick?\"\n\nI sat in the meeting room as we did every Sunday morning, to talk about the next week and our moves. But my mind was focused on my daughter, my eight year old daughter, who was growing more and more curious of the world outside of our zone. And who was growing more curious of what her father did for a living.\n\n\"Frederick?\"\n\nI shook my head and looked up at Harris, the Captain of our Zone's Guard, my second in command as he had more military experience than I ever did. \"I'm sorry?\"\n\n\"Ammunition, explosives? Can we do that?\" He raised an eyebrow.\n\nI looked down at my holopad and tapped the screen a few times, \"Yeah, I can send about two weeks' worth on the next copter.\" I looked back up at Harris and nodded, making sure to keep my mind focused on the meeting.\n\n\"Good,\" Harris turned back to the hologram of one of his Lieutenant's, who was still in the 'Dead City,' \"That sound good, LT?\"\n\nThe Lieutenant nodded, \"Yes, sir, that's perfect.\"\n\n\"Then it's settled. Relay your orders to the Elf command, we'll be seeing them for our bi-annual update, but I want them to know what is going on.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nHarris sent off an impromptu salute as the feed cut off, leaving myself, Harris, and the two civilian commanders in the room. Jasmine Dark, the labor worker, and Tucker Ellis, our zone's doctor. \"What's the work load going to look like for our year ones?\"\n\nJasmine shrugged, \"Nothing that will upset the public. We can divvy it up to make it seem like seasonal work.\"\n\nHarris nodded, \"Great. Tucker, any news?\"\n\nTucker leaned forward, \"We have a bit of a situation with public health, it's something I haven't seen in years.\"\n\n\"How many years?\" I asked.\n\n\"Since the last scouts went to the Dead City.\"\n\nI dropped my holopad and massaged my head with my hand, \"The Virus is back again, how?\"\n\nTucker leaned back and forth, \"Well, I managed to nip the first few cases with our available antibiotics, but without the factories of the Dwarves, I can't manufacture any more of it.\" Tucker sighed, \"My best bet is the latest scouts from the Dead Zones became carriers, I'd need to full analyses.\"\n\n\"How much do you have?\"\n\n\"About eighty more people.\"\n\nI rubbed my chin and shook my head, \"That won't be nearly enough. The last outbreak was well over two thousand.\"\n\n\"The dwarves won't let us near their factories, Frederick. Not since the last time,\" Harris leaned forward.\n\nI nodded, \"I know, I know, but this will turn in a zone-wide epidemic if we can't nip it in time.\"\n\n\"What are you thinking?\"\n\nI shook my head. I had been the background leader of the Zone for close to twelve years, since my successor passed the torch to me. A thankless job, but Zone leaders were chosen among the best Year Ones and then bred for job. \"Quarantine. Sector-wide.\"\n\nJasmine leaned forward, \"That's going to put a halt on some major work.\"\n\n\"I'd rather have us halt major work than kill the Zone.\"\n\nTucker nodded, \"It is the best. I can analyze the Scouts and move from them there, but I will need to make more eventually.\"\n\n\"That involves talking to the dwarves, and it's been years since they accepted our pleas.\"\n\n\"I'll go,\" I said.\n\nHarris shook his head, \"No way. Too many variables, you haven't even chosen a successor yet, Fred, we can't send you there.\"\n\n\"Humanity has been holding the city since the fall,\" I leaned forward, \"it's time the dwarves remembered that. It's time they remembered whose been holding them at bay.\"\n\n\"You're going to blackmail them, you'd need all the Zones to agree to that, which they won't.\"\n\nI nodded, Harris had a point, but the dwarves didn't need to know that. Each Zone had a vote in humanity's fate, but the elves and dwarves had never defended the city like we did. It was time they remembered who had been dying for their people over the last thousand years. \"Dwarves don't know human politics, and they never will.\"\n\nHarris sighed, he knew I wasn't going to let up, we had known each other long enough to understand the decisions made by another. \"You'll need a security escort, the Mayor will have to be notified.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Put together a team, send a message to the dwarves, I leave tonight.\" Tucker and Jasmine both leaned back in their chairs and after Harris made the orders for my escort, he too leaned back. \"Any other issues?\"\n\nThe three remained quiet.\n\n\"Then it's settled. We'll be supplying the front with more ammunition and explosives, Tucker will continue his analysis of the Virus, Jasmine will divvy the work load and I will go talk to the dwarves,\" I nodded, \"This meeting is adjourned, return to your families, spread your orders.\" I stood upwards and recited the words that each Zone leader recited during these meetings; the words of our ancestors, and a tradition that continue even after the fall, \"May the prosperity of our people continue to hold fast through our Zones.\"\n\nThe three stood and then replied in unison, \"Prosper or Fall.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Prosper or Fall.\"\n\nThe three left the room, returning to the office of the Mayor. This room had been built in every Zone Hall in the mayor's office, to talk of matters such as this, in secret and away from public eye. My job was thankless, unknown, and never talked about outside of this room. My trip to the dwarves would have to be equally secret.\n\nI thought of my daughter and her dream to return to the city. Most kids her age had the same dream, but by the time they reached eighteen that dream would disappear. My daughter, I knew, would never let that dream go. She would want to return to the city, the labor committee would see that and place her in the military. She would train and train until she ventured to the city and fought the race that betrayed us so many years ago.\n\nHer dream would turn into an ugly reality, a reality where she saw the city for what it was now. A horrifying, disease-filled, battlefield. The city had no hope, it had no desire to be great once again. The Zones and their leaders all saw that, but we never had the backing to end the war. If I could get the dwarves to talk again, if I could get our three races together again, we could unite and destroy the ones that betrayed us so many years ago. The dream of the city would end because their would be no city to return to, and we could truly prosper again.\n\nI grabbed my things and walked towards the exit. I had been playing the game of secrets and maneuvers for far too long, it was time we ended the dream of the city and replaced it with the dream of the future. No good ever came from dwelling on the past, and I wanted to see humanity look towards the future again.\n\nI wanted humanity to see that the future was worth fighting for. Not the past, not a fallen race, not a dead city.\n\n________\n\n*I had fun with this and might come back later to work on it. If you enjoyed, check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more!*"
] |
[
1,
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2,
3
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[
"1445306431",
"1445127285",
"1445129167",
"1445127386"
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|
Sorry, title error. Im sure its obvious I meant Gordon Ramsay though.
|
[WP] Every inmate on death row gets a meal cooked exactly to their liking before their execution. Todays prisoner to be executed: Gordn Ramsay
| 303
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[
"\"Who's next?\" the guard asked the janitor.\n\n\"I heard that they're calling in someone from the Food Network to help\"\n\n\"Really? Why don't they just... kill him?\"\n\n\"I don't know man. It's a law. Must be cooked to perfection.\"\n\n\"But... for Ramsay?\"\n\nA cry is heard down the hall. A chef is seen running, tears streaming down his face.\n\n\"AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL YOU FIGURE OUT HOW TO FILET A FISH F*CKING PROPERLY, YOU WASTE OF SPACE. THIS MUST BE WHY YOUR WIFE LEFT YOU. I'LL BET YOU COULDN'T EVEN SATISFY HER NEED FOR A HAM SANDWICH YOU MISERABLE FAILURE!\"\n\n\"Oh dear. There he goes again.\"\n\nThe two men look down the hall, to see a woman being forced forward by two large men.\n\n\"Don't leave me in there, please!\" she screams at the two burly men.\n\nOne pulls a taser. The woman takes a look at the crying chef, and throws herself on the taser.\n\n\"Oh. Wow.\" the janitor says.\n\n\"WHERE IS MY CHEF. I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY YOU WORTHLESS PIGS. I ENVY ALL THOSE THAT HAVEN'T MET YOU DESPICABLE C*NTS.\"\n\nThen, down the hall, three more guards throw a man into the cell.\n\n\"Please... don't leave me.\" the man begs.\n\n\"Oh. Are you any better then the rest? Have you got the slightest spark in your brain, so that you may come even somewhere close to pleasing me? No, not close. Just not as far as these other bafoons I have been presented with.\" Ramsay says.\n\n\"Please. PLEASE!\"\n\n\"Now. Let's begin.\" Ramsay says.",
"Ramsay meets his end\n\nFugu by Jiro Ono\n\nMaster of sushi",
"Last meals tell a lot about a person. Although almost no one ever eats more than a nibble or two, people tend to order various \"comfort\" foods. Things they remember from childhood, extravagant sweets, regional specialties, foods of that nature.\n\nJohn Wayne Gacy ordered a bucket of KFC. Timothy McVeigh ordered a quart of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Ted Bundy ordered a typical breakfast with a giant steak in the middle, and never even touched it.\n\nOn the more unusual side, [Gary Carl Simmons ordered](http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/death-row-inmate-requests-29000-906253) a record-breaking \"Pizza Hut medium Super Supreme Deep Dish pizza, double portion, with mushrooms, onions, jalapeno peppers, and pepperoni; pizza, regular portion, with three cheeses, olives, bell pepper, tomato, garlic and Italian sausage; 10 8-oz. packs of Parmesan cheese; 10 8-oz. packs of ranch dressing; one family size back of Doritos nacho cheese flavor; 8 oz. jalapeno nacho cheese; 4 oz. sliced jalapenos; 2 large strawberry shakes; two 20-oz. cherry Cokes; one super-size order of McDonald's fries with extra ketchup and mayonnaise; and two pints of strawberry ice cream.\" And he managed to eat about half of it!\n\nBut *this*? I always try to maintain an air of decorum given the seriousness of my job, but I couldn't suppress a small chuckle at the irony. Perhaps the closest historical last meal I can think of - in spirit anyway - Adolf Eichmann famously ordered a bottle of an *Israeli* wine, Carmel.\n\nWell, here's his cell. Don't laugh, don't laugh, *please* don't laugh...\n\n\"Mr. Ramsey? I have your last meal, as requested: A family-size can of B&M Baked Beans, and four Red Hots hotdogs with mustard and relish.\"",
"\"ITS RAW YOU F***ING DOUGHNUT\" reverberating around the concrete halls and metal bars.\n\n\nA metallic clang as the plate and food hit the opposite wall, smearing potato and steak down to the floor.\n\n\nBob turned and walked to the other guard \"I know he is being fussy because hes a chef and its his last meal, but hes actually got some smarts, we cant kill him\nwithout him eating it.\"\n\nThe other guard narrowed his eyes and thought about it, then began to smile\n\n\"You know, i think... he's right\"\n\n.\n\nBob smiled for a second, then frowned \"Ive got to find another chef...\"\n\nEDIT: more detail.",
"The click clack of heels echoed down death row. Shiny black pumps. Black pinstripe suit. Light makeup. With two guards walking behind her.\n\n\"This is unusual. We never see the warden down here,\" the first guard whispered.\n\n\"I know, right? She's got balls though, coming down here,\" the second guard replied.\n\nThe click clack of heels stopped as the warden turned to a cell. She looked up at the nearest camera. A moment later, the cell door buzzed open and she walked in.\n\n\"Hello Gordon.\"\n\nRamsey sat up on his bunk bed, a little confused.\n\n\"Given your little... gimmick\" Ramsey cocked an eyebrow at the word, \"we're legally forced to delay your execution as every 'last meal' we've provided has been... resoundingly unsatisfactory\" she said.\n\n\"So, I had an idea. A moment of brilliance really. You'll see in a bit.\" The warden promptly left the cell as the guards approached Ramsey and put a bag over his head.\n\nWhen the bag was taken off, Ramsey was seated in a chair in a dark room unable to see anything. He caught sight of a sliver of light in the corner of an open door, as his eyes adjusted to focus.\n\n\"Hello Gordon,\" said a voice on what sounded like a PA system. It was the warden's voice.\n\nSHOOM!\n\nThe room was flooded with light, forcing Gordon to block his eyes from the light. As his eyes began adjusting, he began to make out his surroundings. They seemed oddly... familiar.\n\n\"Now Gordon. We've recreated a set resembling your personal kitchen. There is a production crew ready to broadcast what's about to happen live and on the air. On the tabletop, you'll find the keys to the handcuffs.\"\n\nSure enough, Gordon looked on the tabletop and found a key sitting perfectly center on a chopping board.\n\n\"What the hell is this?\" Gordon yelled.\n\n\"We'll be going live in 2 minutes, Gordon. Now, listen.\" the warden's voice sounded... enthusiastic.\n\n\"You're going to cook your last meal for all the world to see. At the end of the next hour, you'll decide whether you live as a hypocrite or die as a master chef.\"\n\n\"... You sick, sadistic bitch.\""
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[
14,
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21,
22,
264
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[
"1445188969",
"1445204396",
"1445187016",
"1445163817",
"1445181892"
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[WP] I'm in love with my Scrabble partner.
| 23
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[
"B-E-L-O-V-E-D\n\n\"21 Points\" I declare, smiling across the table at him as he mentally checks my addition. \n\n\"Very nice.\" He smiles politely, as he glances at his tiles. \"Allow me to riposte\"\n\nU-N-V-E-X-E-D\n\nHe lays the word across a triple letter score with a smile.\n\n\"I think that should do it.\" He says, jotting the number down on the score sheet. \"But let's see what you can do with it?\"\n\nI frown, trying to think of a witty response but nothing comes. Oh well, I think, I'll let my tiles speak for me.\n\nE-M-B-R-A-C-E-D\n\nMy tiles scatter across the table as my shaking fingers struggle to place them tidily. Finally the word takes its form.\n\nS-I-N-G-U-L-A-R\n\nThe response is instant. I lock eyes with him, and a little smoke seems to rise from his face. \"You'll have to do better than that,\" he says questioningly.\n\nP-L-A-I-N-T-I-V-E. I write.\n\nA-L-O-N-E. He responds. Only 11 points.\n\nE-N-A-M-O-U-R. 18 points. I smile.\n\n-E-D. He scores a double word score as he places it in the past tense.\n\nI sigh, exasperated. \"Well what about this?\"\n\nD-A-T-E. Nine points. I take the final tile from the bag.\n\nN-O. A triple word score. I gasp, and throw my own tiles on the table.\n\n\"Are you saying you wouldn't even consider it?\" I demand.\n\nHe looks up from the board. \"What do you mean?\" He asks. \"I was just trying to spell out 'novation' - it's 63 points!\"",
"It started off simply. Anonymous matching, no chat window - we just played. My first word was \"frost\" - not brilliant, only sixteen points, but not bad for a first try. She hit back with \"rough\". \n\nIt was the best game I'd ever played. Not just because it was my highest score to date, but because of the competition. Normally, in Scrabble, one person pulls ahead. By about half way through, you know who's going to win. They hit a few triples early on, and then it's hard to catch up. That wasn't the case this time.\n\nIt was neck-and-neck, right up until the end. She was good - the best I'd ever played - but I was on fire as well. Word after word slammed down: \"zeugma\", \"entrails\", \"basenji\". I ended up two points ahead, but didn't celebrate. I just clicked \"rematch\". \n\nI'd enjoyed scrabble before, but now I was obsessed. At home on the couch, on the metro, even surreptitiously at my desk, I was playing scrabble. I'd check the app obsessively, hoping she'd responded. While I was waiting, I'd doodle endlessly, trying to come up with the best possible combination. I didn't want just to win, I wanted to impress her. \n\nWe played game after game, for months. Neither of us ever pulled ahead by more than a couple of victories in a row, and every game was close. I learnt new words every day, beautiful words that I would never use outside scrabble: \"euoi\", or \"cwm\". I learnt to say them, too, researching pronunciation while waiting for my next turn. \n\nShe was amazing. So knowledgeable, so creative with her words. And every time we interacted, there was that pulse-pounding, heart-racing buzz of competition, of challenge. It's no wonder I became curious about her.\n\nI used to picture her in my head, imagining my opponent. It changed all the time, flicking through a thousand possibilities with nothing concrete to fix on. It didn't matter to me what she looked like, really, I just wanted to know more about her. Finally, I cracked. First round of a new game, I threw away a perfectly good \"embark\" to just write \"name\". \n\nThe response was \"apple\". Not the most auspicious start. Perhaps she'd misunderstood, or didn't want to tell me, or just didn't have the letters for her name - maybe it was \"Tallulah\", or \"Eustacia\". \n\nFour turns later, I realised - \"apple\", \"not\", \"never\", \"else\": an acrostic. \n\nAnne. \n\nFrom there, I asked more questions. Not enough to cost me the game, or stop it being challenging, but if I had the letters to ask something - \"age\" (within five years of mine) or \"job\" (nurse) or \"pets\" (dog) - then I would. It took a little imagination - there was always the worry that she lacked the relevant letters, or that a question was understood as a word, not an enquiry. Still, over the passing of further months, I was able to ask (and answer) each question several times. I thought of repeated, relevant words within a few turns of the question as confirmed answers, slowly building up my knowledge of her. \n\n\"Where\" was a question I waited for a long time to ask. Partly because \"w\" and \"h\" didn't come up together that often, and partly because I knew it would change things. If she was half the world away, then all we could ever do was play scrabble. I wanted to meet her, but I almost didn't want to know if I couldn't. It would be better to have the dream than no hope at all.\n\nHer answer, when I finally asked, was an acrostic again. Luck was on my side, because she was able to name it straight away - no abbreviation, no waiting for a reply. \"leg\", \"oaf\", \"newt\", \"dig\", \"oval\", \"new\". London. The same city as me. \n\nIt was a shock. Not in a bad way, but a shock nevertheless. It suddenly all became real. She wasn't just the anonymous person I played scrabble with, but Anne - a living, breathing person living not too far away. I didn't respond for a while.\n\nI just stared - stared at the words on the board, stared at the possibilities they conjured up. She was real, and close. The woman I'd been dreaming about, imagining for over a year now. She actually existed. We could actually meet.\n\nMy hands were shaking as I dragged each tile into place. \"Meeting.\" \n\nIt was her turn now not to respond. I checked it every minute, for two days. I was reprimanded at work for losing focus. I didn't go swimming that week, because she might have responded, and I wouldn't have known until I'd finished. Still no reply. \n\nAnd then, after endless, agitated waiting, her word appeared: \"absolutely\", building off my \"lute\" and hitting two triple word scores. 135 points. \n\nShe won the game. I didn't mind. "
] |
[
1,
14
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[
"1445217391",
"1445198426"
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[WP] Your life up to this point has been a hallucination. When you truly wake up for the first time, you wake up in a hospital room.
| 8
|
[
"Everything was glaring white and making my eyes hurt adjusting to the sudden brightness. I rested my head against the soft pillow and closed my eyes.\n\n\"Oh good, you're awake. Welcome!\" A smiling nurse in a pair of loose pants and a white tank top rounded the foot of my bed and grabbed my wrist to check my pulse.\n\n\"Where am I? What is this?\" I looked around the room for answers, but it was only white. I tried to sit up but the firm hand of the nurse pushed on my shoulder and I rested back into my pillows.\n\n\"Big J will be in to answer any questions you have, as for now you can just relax and know that everything is going to be all right.\" He smiled at me again and patted my shoulder.\n\nA little while later a man pushed through the rooms' swinging door, still talking to somebody in the hall as it swung shut. He turned to us and smiled, stretching his hands out like he was welcoming a long lost friend. \"I'm sorry to pull you out of your plans right now, but it was time.\" The man approached and grabbed my hand, squeezing it he sat on the edge of my bed and just looked at me smiling. \"I'm so happy you're here.\"\n\n\"Excuse you? Where is 'here'? What am I doing here? Who are you?!\" I looked between the two men surrounding my bed, wanting an answer.\n\n\"Everything's fine on my end, J.\" The nurse bowed to the man sitting on my bed and excused himself. Now I only had him to look at, he seemed strangely familiar like an old friend I wasn't quite sure was the right person. Soft blue eyes, an unkempt beard and long curly brown hair. The way this man kept smiling was a little unnerving, like he knew something I hadn't caught on to yet.\n\n\"Ask whatever you want child, I will never lie to you.\" It was like he knew what I was thinking. Was that possible? The man chuckled and stood up from the bed, turning to reach for me. I took his hands and stood with this strange man in this strange white room.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I had better start with the easiest one first.\n\n\"I am your guide, and I'm here to help you with anything you need. All you need to do is ask.\" Kind of a vague answer, It'll do I suppose.\n\n\"Where am I?\" Next obvious concern.\n\n\"You are somewhere many people only dream of being.\" I finally got a good look at the man in front of me. He had on simple white shorts, and a tight white tank top. He was barefoot and tan, like he had come straight from the beach to my bedside. His blue eyes almost sparkled with the white room, and everything seemed brighter around him, like he emanated a soft glow.\n\nI noticed how warm and soft his hands were, I was becoming aware of many things at once. I noticed how the floor felt soft like carpet but firm like tile at the same time, I could feel the slightest breeze brush against my skin, but there were no drafts. My eyes still hurt but I began to see colors seep into the corners of my vision, but when I turned to observe them they disappeared. I blinked over and over trying to get the ache to subside. I shook my head and rubbed my temples, \"Where is my mom? My car? Did I crash my car?\"\n\n\"What is a car, besides a thing? Your family will be fine child, don't worry about them right now.\" This guy was getting on my nerves. He took my hand again, such a warm hand. I felt his wrist, his bones under his tan skin, and ran my fingers up to his elbow. The feeling was like nothing I had ever felt, warm and soft but firm and strong as well. I was so confused. He put his arm around my shoulder and led me to the door he had entered through, it swung open when we got close and through it I could see nothing but white, and the faint trace of vibrant colors at the edges, I could hear nothing except the blood rushing through my ears and the mans breathing next to me.\n\n\"Open your eyes child, and see where you are.\" That was stupid, they were open. His hands were at my face, covering my eyes. I could feel their warmth and smell the... dirt? on his fingers. I breathed in his smell trying to make it out. The man chuckled and dropped his hands and my eyes blinked open, adjusting to the white, but it wasn't white anymore. There were people in front of me, lots of people! And they were all smiling, and they were all wearing white.\n\n\"I think it's all starting to make sense.\" I breathed in disbelief. \"I'm dead? Is this Heaven?\" The man just smiled. He needed to knock that off.\n\n\"You have been reborn among your everlasting family; Including me, our father, and all of our brothers and sisters.\" I looked past the people and could make out the fainest splash of color leaking in from the abyss, forming and creating a landscape in front of us. The people turned and watched as the world stretched out toward our group, painting the sky blue, white marble appeared in a splash beneath our feet, huge columns shot up around us, and trees sprouted from nothing in full bloom along the roads, birds flew past and other people appeared playing flutes and harps, and some playing guitars, some only walked past hand in hand with other people, children ran past playing. All in white. The sky filled in and the grounds came to a rest, and I couldn't take my eyes off of the man next to me. He was definitely glowing.\n\n\"Huh.\" Is all I could manage. The man next to me burst out laughing, it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, and other people turned at the ringing of his joy bouncing off of the marble, smiling as they heard it too.\n\n\"Let's get down to why you're here, shall we?\" He led me to a small table, and as we sat down two drinks appeared in front of us; a small cup of black coffee, and a cold glass of milk. I reached for the milk and took a sip, observing the man across from me. He looked thoughtful and wise beyond his young years, he smiled out into nothing as we watched a child playing with a small toy by his parents sitting on a blanket in the grass and sun. All I could see from this man was love and understanding in his eyes.\n\n\"Everybody has to come home at some point. For some people that point may not come for many life cycles, they will circle through the world learning and living until they realize I am the only way. The single way to come home. And when they understand that, and live a life that represents my love and teachings, I show them their lives and welcome them into my house forever.\"\n\n\"How many lives have I lived?\" I was trying to make sense of all of this. \"And how does that work?\"\n\n\"You live and die and live again, until your heart and soul accepts me and our father. Until you learn that you would keep living and dying on Earth, over and over again, sometimes many lives must be lived to learn one lesson.\" He looked into his lap, saddened by the thought of that, \"Some people take a very long time.\" He was quiet for a short while before he looked up from his lap and smiled once again, \"Do you see? Your 'life' is a test, it's that simple. Nothing on Earth is truly 'real' but an illusion for your decisions to play out in. You have your entire life to learn that your 'things' are just weights holding you to the ground, your 'job' is a shackle keeping you bolted to one place. We are meant to soar! And when you remember who I am and live for me and our father, then you are freed from the burdens of your 'life' and your true life can finally begin!\"\n\nI remembered then, I had a good car and an expensive phone, I was just starting to get somewhere in my job. I had a nice apartment and nice clothing, my friends were all alive somewhere, and my family. I also remembered the night my life changed like it was yesterday; over all the other things that night was the most clear in my head. I had drank too much and was lying next to the toilet puking, hating myself, wanting an escape from the pain. I remembered rolling on to my back and looking into the ceiling crying when a man appeared, this man across the table from me now. He was holding out his hands with a smile on his face, much like the one now. He had a glow around him then, just like the one he had now. I remember taking his hands and standing up, I remember how warm his skin was. I do not remember walking to my room and being put into bed. That was the last night I ever drank more than a glass of wine with dinner, and the first time I ever thought about my life and the world.\n\nIt was as if he were reading my mind, or remembering the same night possibly, the man answered, \"You took a long while, but you're finally here with me. I've missed you girl,\" He stood and walked around the table and helped me to my feet, \"but now you're here and that's all that matters.\" He pulled me into a hug and rested his head on mine, holding me tightly. I could only think of how he smelled like dirt, like he had just finished planting some flowers before coming to meet me in the white room and of how much I loved that smell. I thought about how warm he was, and how safe I felt, and how happy I was to be here with this kind and wonderful man. I thought about my family, my mother would be heartbroken but I knew she would get through it. She had her big house and her fancy car, all of her comforts would numb her pain, I'd seen it my entire life. Little did she know that her comforts would keep her caged forever, locked to her 'things' she would stay on Earth. Sensing my thoughts he hugged me tighter and said, \"She will come home to us, they all will, someday.\"",
"Am I alive? I thought to myself as I remembered what’d just happened. \nWhat had happened? I remembered driving with my family. The skies were clear and the sun was rising. It was a good day. \n\nBut then there was the truck. Where did it come from?\n\nMy wife and kids. Oh God. Did they make it? Was it just me that survived? \n\nWhere were they? My head was spinning with questions even before I opened my eyes.\n\n\n “Commander?” I heard someone ask as my eyes struggled to focus. “Can you hear me?”\n\n\nI blinked a few times. There was a blinding light searing into my pupils, stinging my eyes and making them water. I managed a grunt of pain.\n\nEverything ached. Cold. He was cold. Freezing. My teeth chattered relentlessly.\n“Commander I need you to take a deep breath, can you do that for me?”\n\nI tried. But it felt like I was drowning and every breath I took was sucking in more water, pushing me under. My lungs burned and my throat was tight.\nI tried to move but it felt like my arms were made of lead and my legs were immersed in concrete. The world had started to spin.\n\n\n“I need some help here!” The voice said and I felt myself being pinned down.\nMy lungs were burning, I desperately needed air. I still couldn’t see, everything was blurry and out of focus. Stars dazzled behind my eyelids.\n\n\nIt was the cool press of metal against my arm, and the sharp stinging that made my heart beat even faster than before. I struggled again, managing nothing more than another grunt.\n\n\n“Commander, just calm down. Breathe.”\n\n\nThe stinging in my arm subsided, and slowly so did the pain. I took in a deep breath; sweet beautiful oxygen filled my ever burning lungs. Took in another, and another. Slowly I felt myself calming down; I took in big gulps of air like I would never be able to breathe again.\n\n\n“That’s it, Commander. You’re doing great.” \n\n\nI blinked a few more times, my vision slowly coming together. I relaxed slightly, and I felt the things holding me down let go and I was able to move freely.\n\n\n“Welcome back, Commander. That was a bit of a rough ride, huh?” \n\n\nThe person speaking came into view. She was attractive. Wearing a lab coat and blue gloves, her arms were folded.\n\n\nI swallowed bitter saliva, a disgusting aftertaste in his mouth. “W-where am I?” I croaked, voice raspy from disuse.\n\n\n“Take it slow. Memory loss is common upon waking up from Cryogenic Stasis. Can you move?”\n\n\nI only just noticed now that I was inside some kind of high tech pod. I attempted to sit up, but my muscles barely listened to me so all I was able to do was twitch slightly.\n\n\n“What’s going on?” I croaked, again my throat felt like sandpaper and my tongue was loose carpet flopping around uselessly in my dry mouth.\n\n\n“I know you have a lot of questions, Commander. And they will be answered. For now I need you to be patient. Just take it easy. You’ve been out for a while now.”\nA sudden horrible memory flashed before my eyes as I remembered with dread- the car accident.\n\n\n“My wife and kids, are they okay? Are they here? I want to see them.”\n\n\nThe doctor gave a quizzical look before writing something down on her clipboard.\n\n “Commander… you don’t have any kids, and you never married.”\n\n\n“What are you talking about?” \n\n\nWhy was this woman lying to me? Just what kind of hospital was this? \n\n\n“I assure you, all of your questions will be answered. I am not authorised to tell you anything until Commander Alpha One Seven gets here.”\n\n\nAll of this information, or lack thereof was giving me a headache. I pressed his palms against my eyes, hoping that whatever nightmare this was would just end. I could deal with being dead, but not with this.\n\n\n“Commander, I need you to tell me the last thing you remember.”\n\n\n“Why do you keep calling me that?”\n\n\nShe jotted something else down on the clipboard before sighing quietly. “That is your rank. Would you prefer me to call you by your name then?”\n\n\n“Yes.” I tried to sit up again, and was pleased that I was successful.\n\n\n“Comman-“ she stopped herself before finishing the word and helped my straighten up. “You need to be careful. We can’t lose you again.”\n\n\n“My name is Michael. Stop calling me Commander.”\n\n\nShe sighed again, “Okay. Michael then.” The doctor ran a hand through her frizzy short hair before taking off her gloves and shoving them into the pockets of her lab coat. “I’m Sierra.” \n\n\nBefore Michael could say anything else, a door opened off to the side and a bulky man stepped through. Sierra saluted and then walked to the back of the room, fiddling with a computer.\n\nThe bulky man had his hair shaved into a crew cut, the grey hairs poking through only just. His expression was stony but he managed to seem welcoming enough. The suit he wore was covered in medals to the breast.\n\n\nHe stopped a few feet from where I was sitting inside the pod and saluted. I saluted back, not really sure on what else to do.\n\n\n“Commander Bravo One Eight. It is good to see you again.”\n\n\nIt took me a few seconds to realise that the bulky man was talking to me. But before I could properly introduce myself, he started talking again.\n\n\n“The doctor has reported that you have acute memory loss. No matter, it happens to everyone at some point. I’m amazed it took you this long. Anyway, I am Commander Alpha One Seven, Zero Two.”\n\n\n“Where am I?”\n\n\n“On board The Equilibrium.”\n\n\n“What is that?”\n\n\n“A ship.”\n\n\n“Like a *space ship*?”\n\n\n“Affirmative.”\n\n\n“What am I doing here?”\n\n\n“You’ve been on board this beauty for almost two hundred years.”\n\n\n“That’s not possible. No human can live that long.”\n\n\nCommander Alpha pulled up a chair, “I can see this may take some time. Your mind is currently seeking out answers, and I understand that. Ask me any questions. You have a few minutes of my time, I have a lot of pressing duties in the command central.”\n\n\n“Start by telling me who I am.”\n\n\n“You name is Commander Bravo One Eight. When I enter Cryogenic Stasis you will become the commanding officer of this ship.”\n\n\nI shook my head. What this man was saying couldn’t be true. Not just an hour ago I was a simple lawyer taking my family on vacation. \n\n\nUntil the accident.\n\n\n“Where are my wife and kids?”\n\n\n“Bravo, you have never fathered any children, nor did you marry. The only family you had when you left earth was a dying mother who has long since passed.”\n\n\n“So you’re telling me that I am what? Two hundred years old?”\n\n\n“Not exactly, see your age isn’t defined in years. At least not while we’re in space. Age doesn’t matter. What does matter are your skills. You have the skills to command this ship and you must remember them. We simply just don’t have time. I don’t have time.”\n\n\n“But there was a car accident… I died-“\n\n\nBefore he could finish, Sierra rushed to them holding a huge syringe. “Excuse me, Commander Alpha. Commander Bravo hasn’t has his shot of Thycentemol yet. It should clear up his memory loss and answer these silly questions.”\nCommander Alpha stood up, “You should have given it to him the moment he woke up.”\n\n\n“With all due respect, Commander Alpha. But his body had a meltdown. We are lucky he is even conscious right now. The drug could have killed him had I given it to him when he woke.”\n\n\nThe Commander just nodded and put his hat back on his head, “I have to go now. Commander Bravo you just rest up. These next few days won’t be easy on you especially until you get your memory back.”\n\n\nSierra saluted again before he left. The doors opening and closing automatically.\n“What was that all about?” Michael asked, lying back down in the comfy pod.\nSierra shook her head, curly hair bouncing. “You’re lucky I saved you there.” \n\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\n“If anyone else found out that you can remember who you were in your dream, and that you can’t remember who you really are… well let’s just say that bad things would happen.”\n\n\n“So you’re saying my whole life up until now has been a dream then?”\n\n\n“Of course.”\n\n\n“But I remember so much. I was a lawyer. I had money and power. I remember growing up. I remember my mother and father.”\n\nSierra put on a fresh pair of gloves before picking up the syringe again. Flicked it with one finger and then cleaned my arm. “It’s how it works, Michael.” She said, inserting the syringe in as I gasped in pain. “Since we left earth, there has always been a cycle.”\n\n\nShe finished up with whatever she had injected me with and put a band-aid over the wound. I sat up again. \n\n“What cycle?”\n\n“It’s complicated.”\n\n“So uncomplicate it.”\n\nShe eyed me, as if she was silently assessing me like I was a petulant child. “You know, I liked you a lot better when you were in charge of me. You sure do ask a lot of questions.”\n\n“I just want some answers. Can you please just help me? Please.”\n\nSierra sat down on the chair only recently just vacated by Commander Alpha and ran her hand through her curly hair again. Something Michael noticed that she did when she was thinking seriously.\n\n“You will get your answers, Michael. But in the meantime I need you to pretend like you know what you’re doing. I need you to pretend that you remember who you were. Who you are.”\n\n“Why?” I paused and before she could reply I jumped in. “Because it’s complicated, right?”\n\nShe smiled slightly. I was amazed at how something so small could make \n\nsomeone seem so much more beautiful. “Exactly.”\n\n“So what now then?”\n\n“Now we wait. I know you don’t feel tired but your body does. Waking up from cryogenic stasis is a very exhausting process. Right now your body has to remember how to do everything, and the easiest way to let it do that is to sleep it off. I promise things will be a lot clearer after you wake up from a healthy amount of natural sleep.”\n\nI lay back down in the pod slowly. “And what if I don’t wake up?”\n\n“You will.”\n"
] |
[
1,
5
] |
[
"1445278765",
"1445255103"
] |
|
[WP] The light switches that seem to never do anything actually kill random people around the world.
| 17
|
[
"\"Johnny, don't play with the light switch.\"\n\nThis was something that little Johnny was told on an almost daily basis, but how could he help it? The switch did nothing. 'Well it must do something' Johnny would think to himself. Some days he would go by and flip the switch only a few times, while other days he would sit and play with it for hours on end. This switch boggled Johnny's mind.\n\nThis was one of the playful days, and Johnny's mother was through with his deliberate disobedience.\n\n\"Johnny, this is the last time I am going to tell you this; STOP PLAYING WITH IT!\"\n\n\"Why? It's not like it is going to do anything!\"\n\n\"Somethings just don't work, now sto-\"\n\nJohnny's mother collapsed to the ground. Johnny ran to her and screamed at the top of his lungs. Waking her was fruitless. She was dead.\n\nIt was moments after that he realized why so was so persistent. She knew what could have happened. Johnny was horrified. 'How many have I killed' Johnny thought to himself. He was sickened. \n\nFrom that point on, Johnny spent his days flipping the switch, hoping that one day It would be him",
"No one knew why Uncle Gary had died. Forty three, never even smoked a cigarette, never touched a drop of alcohol, collapsed suddenly on his morning run. Dead. The doctors scratched their heads, relatives scoured their family history for hereditary diseases, neighbours left their well wishes. \n\nNo one knew why Uncle Gary had died. Apart from me. \n\nI had been five when I had discovered the switch behind the radiator guard. You could only see it if you crouched right down and fiddled around behind the old radiator, and who would do that apart from a child, or a handyman who knew that it was best not to touch switches that had nothing to do with the task in hand. \n\nFive year old me did what any five year old would do, and flicked the switch. Nothing. \n\nAt dinner that night, my mother came in red eyed, and announced the terrible news. \n\n\"Morty is dead,\" she sniffed.\n\n\"Was she hit by a car?\" my father draped a heavy arm over my mother's thin shoulders. \n\nMy mother shrugged, \"not a mark on her. I just found her nestled in the pile of laundry.\" \n\nI stabbed my peas and thought about Morty lying in the washing pile, waiting for someone to find her. \n\n\"At least she had a good life,\" my father soothed. \n\nI don't know how I knew, but I had had something to do with it. \n\nI left the switch alone after that, keeping as far away as I could from it, but curiosity climbed under my skin, itching away at my muscles. I thought about it night and day, the gnawing guilt of possibly killing the family cat battling with the intense craving to try out the power of that dead switch.\n\nTwo months later, I couldn't take it any longer. I took an old jam jar from the cupboard and made my way out into the garden. Heaving over a huge rock, I discovered my treasure in the form of a hundred wriggling woodlice, scattered like silver coins. I placed 5 in my jar, headed back to the living room, crawled on my belly, moved the radiator guard and took a deep breath. \n\n*Click. * \n\nI looked at the jar, four wriggling woodlice trying to crawl up then sides of the jar. \n\n*Click. *\n\nA second wood louse froze. \n\n*Click click click. *\n\nOne by one they curled up, and I covered my mouth in horror, uneasiness settling in my stomach. I wriggled back out from under the radiator, hurriedly put the radiator guard back and emptied the dead woodlice out into the garden. \n\nI never touched that switch again. Soon it became something distant, something I'd dreamed, or part of play where my imagination had run wild. \n\nSeven years later we moved to the upmarket area of the city, in a tall modern building. Uncle Garry had been helping us move in, lugging the cardboard boxes out of the car and hauling them up three flights, as he was the strongest of all of us. It was a long drive back to his house, so my father offered him to stay at ours for the night. \n\n\"Take the guest room!\" he offered, \"it's there for a reason.\"\n\n\"As long as it's no trouble,\" Uncle Garry smiled. \n\nIn the morning, I woke up to the blinding light streaming through my window. We hadn't fitted curtains in the skylight yet. It was too hot, and I padded across the laminate flooring towards the dresser, to switch on the fan.\n\n*Click. *\n\nNothing happened. \n\nIt was then that I saw the two switches next to the door, and I felt a familiar cold, sick feeling prickle across my body. \n\nAnd then the shout from my father as his brother collapsed on the pavement outside of our house.",
"A light switch is meant to bring light into our lives, but this one, this one is special, it takes the light that is our life. \n\n\nIt sits in a basement, of a building long forgotten. The crumbling ruins of a once magnificent science laboratory, which belonged to the most brilliant and mad scientist to ever live. \n\n\nThe building rusts, it's moss covered walls are slowly breaking, yet the light switch stays, in the room with no light, a room of true darkness. \n\n\nA young boy wanders, into the old lab, in the forest were he was told to never enter, but his rebellious and adventurous heart told him otherwise, and he braved on into the lab of the mad scientist. \n\n\nThe building is unstable, the boy is scared, he enters the dark room. Hit by the darkness that could even fill the heart of the bravest man with fear, he frantically flicks the light switch, hoping for some light to shine in this room, but no light came. \n\n\nThe young boy ran with all his might, out of the dark room, out of the ruined lab, out of the forbidden forest. His face and pants, both now soaked, fear filled his heart, he ran and ran towards the village, where he calls home. \n\n \nHe was frightened and needed the comfort and adoration of his mother, or a warm and tight hug from his father, he rushed into his house, ignoring the strange silence that surrounded the village, he yelled his parents names with delight, \n\n\nBut no response came, and no response will ever come. \n\n"
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1,
1,
2
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[
"1445311182",
"1445340147",
"1445295538"
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|
[WP] Humans and Aliens have had a war going on for centuries, but only the aliens are aware of it
| 24
|
[
"**Fall of an Empire: The Wrath of Arokeb**\n\nWhen colonies in the Southern Quadrant started going dark, we assumed the usual \"natural causes\". After all, that section of the Milky Way was infamous for particularly hostile conditions, and tragedies involving a rogue supernova or planet-killer asteroid were moderately higher than in any other Quadrant. To think that, when we brought the mythical world of Arokeb under the Empire's protection, we unwittingly provoked something far more terrible than an occult city-state.\n\nThe planet had been designated a \"wildlife reserve\" world, wherein it was not to be colonized, but instead to be observed by a small research fleet. Centuries passed, and reports of steady re-civilisation were transmitted from the research fleet. Life in the Empire went on as usual, as it had for the greater half of a millennium.\n\nThe first insinuations that something was wrong came when the \"Voyager Scorpio\" landed Earth's Red Star Wastelands, when the throne world had its first glimpse of the savage fanatics that we now know as the basthari. Unlike the vast majority of aliens that had been brought under the Empire's guiding hand, who at first feared us before revering the authority of Man, these feline savages harboured only hatred and disgust for us, having long ago sworn a \"jihad\" on all humanity for what happened to their home planet. Promptly they were shown the errors of their misguided ways, and our military chalked it up to just another group of barbarians who stumbled upon Rome.\n\nWho were we to know that this was merely the beginning? Arokeb was not the first world to go dark, but the colonies closest to that planet of savages went dark shortly before the last report came from the research fleet, detailing some sort of cross-dimensional incursion that the planet's inhabitants were locked in conflict with.\n\nCenturies passed after that last report, and the Southern Quadrant began to go dark at an accelerated rate. Like fools we drew no connections between Arokeb and the ansible silence, and it was only when reports of attacks in the Eastern Quadrant started flooding in that we saw the truth. The Sons and Daughters of Arokeb had spread throughout the Southern Quadrant years before we claimed their homeworld. They knew we were coming, they knew that they could not fight us head-on, and thus they scattered to the dark corners of the galaxy to build their new armies in secret, waiting until the stars were wrong to reunite and spread across the galaxy like wildfire.\n\nFor centuries, they had plotted the destruction of humanity's empire, uncaring towards the chaos that would swallow them whole without us. And all this time, we thought of them as just another collection of bows and arrows against our lightning, never suspecting that they were capable of such an insidious plan. Surely, we will be able to push them back to the Southern Quadrant, but can we hope to truly stop them now they are everywhere? How many could slip through our blockades and set the other Quadrants ablaze? Could they even get anywhere near the Northern Quadrant?\n\nThey stumbled upon Earth once, but if the Imperial Navy have anything to say about it, they'll never again make it past the Tannhauser Nebula...",
"We came here millennia ago, sowing the seeds of our colony on this land we call Gaia. We are a peaceful people. For eons we have been explorers, farmers, artists, philosophers. But mostly just brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers. Perhaps this is why we pay such a high price in our battle with these monkeys. Oh, they are a vicious species. At first, we coexisted peacefully, as we always have with all the other organisms here. But then suddenly, over a mere ten thousand years or so, everything changed. They started making tools. There were some among us who even then recognized the danger the possessed and the darkness in their hearts. They argued that we should end the little monkeys right then and there. Compassion (or some say foolishness) won out. So we waited, trying to communicate, trying to have them see. We waited for thousands of years, but every year it becomes worse. Finally, we decided, we can wait no longer. We have called the council of war. The infuriating thing is that even once we have began our offensive, they still do not SEE. Sure, some of the learned monkeys have began to notice that something is wrong, and it seems from our observation of their weak parody of the life net (that they call internet) some are feeling guilty and are trying to pretend to be our friend. Too little, too late is the consensus of the council. We will end these monkeys now. Are they not afraid of what we can do? Do they not feel the heat yet? Do they not choke in their own filth? Are they not buried under mud slides? Do they not see the sees rising? We will wash away their cities, we will poison their saplings, we will stand strong and prevail. We are the Shaded Elders on the branch of the Galactic Garden. We are the TREES.",
"The tredrex't passed his message to the troops before dying, 'Another billion dead over the last cycle. Chemical warfare. Peninsula abandoned. Land toxic.' They were losing more and more ground abandoning hope that they'd ever be able to find a safe shore. Each system they reached eventually fell the same way, an unseen enemy bombing the surviving colonies, fouling the land, and driving any survivors to the next system only to follow them and repeat the process. Who knew how many worlds they'd taken like this. Certainly it was hundreds in the centuries the tredrex't had been fighting; Billions upon billions of dead. \n\nEach time they thought they'd made a suitable defense, every time they thought they were prepared there was something new thrown at them; Abductions, poison, eviscerating robots, even the destruction of a whole continent - just gone one cycle; The tredrex't just weren't prepared for the kind of warfare they were seeing. They were a peaceful people farming the lands they came across and moving along as to not over-farm. They wanted nothing but to live with the land for all their days. \n\nBut it was time to move on. They felt the inevitability of it all. So like generations before them they gathered together to launch off to a new system, sacrificing themselves in the hope that the next generation of tredrex't would live in safety and happiness. They realized all to late as they launched that their enemy was determined to wipe them out this time. There were shields just above the launch site, their many rockets were dashed against it and absorbed into it. All hope was lost, there would be too few for another launch. Hopefully other sites had managed to avoid the shields. There was always that hope, if just one of them made it through there would always be hope. \n\n\"Now mister Keller, please don't remove these for a couple of days. They'll keep the rash from spreading. The shots should slow things down until your immune system goes back to normal. Then just take these off in two days and wash with regular soap or body wash and pat dry.\" The nurse instructed him. \"The bumps will dry and heal on their own and you'll be immune from this point on. But NO PHYSICAL CONTACT for the next two days, you're still highly infectious.\" \n\n",
"We had come in peace. We came across the vast void to coexist with the only other living planetknown in the universe. \n\nFor a while, it had gone so well. The humans called us Mau and some even worshipped us. They praised our grace, poise, and majesty. We were all happy. We established colonies all around the world and had children and those children had children. We coexisted with all other life on earth. \n\nBut about 10,000 odd years ago things changed when the humans in the Nile valley started enslaving us. Tot his day I am not sure why they started doing this. But, they started treating us like filthy dogs. They took us out of our natural habitats, took us away from our families, put us in prisons... all for no reason except that they were intimidated by us. We meant no harm, but I can see why they were intimidated. We are after all 100 times more smarter than them. \n\nUnfortunately for us, the dumb humans were physically stronger and they threw us into these hell holes and made us beg for our food by pleasing them. Over the last 10,000 years they have killed millions of us. Some of my brothers were killed for just roaming the street, others because there just was no room in prisons.\n\nBut like I said, We are smart. So we launched guerrilla countermeasures and psych warfare. We got the upper hand almost right away. And the humans don't even have a clue that we have won this war. Battles are still being fought but we found a way to win inside our prisons by making the wardens our slaves. Mind control, charm - Child's play for us. Humans fought and lost a war that they didn't even know was being waged. \n\nWe assigned ourselves multiple slave humans and they attend to our every need. I still mourn brothers dying in those meaningless battles out there. But for me personally, life is great. \n\nOk here comes my alpha slave. He has labored in the kitchen and is trying to please me. \"Come and eat your snack. I made it for you myself\". I will not respond in this vulgar language. Not after we won. History is written by winners after all. I think I will tell him that I will do what I damn well please. I turn to him and say it in my native high speech \"meow\". \n",
"I stare at the globe in front of me. The orb floats and continues to rotate almost mockingly. The unconquerable “Earth”. The faint glow of the sphere casts a soft light through my war room. I find myself contemplating our predicament in here more and more often.\n\nNo matter what we throw at them, no matter how hard we fight, they always seem to gain the upper hand. Hands. Oh yes, they are oh so proud of those fleshy appendages that they use to make war. I’ve never understood it. We far outnumber them, we’ve infiltrated their homes, and we have had millennia to grow beyond what they are. Heh. Insects they call us. A demeaning label given by mere evolutionary infants! Two legs? Ha! How can they even call themselves an intelligent species?\n\nBut, I cannot argue with their results. The casualties are steeped heavily in their favor. They crush us, burn us, they engineer chemical weaponry and arm every man, woman, and child. With one spray, my armies fall. Meanwhile, I’ve pulled out every resource at my disposal and killed only a handful of their own in comparison.\n\nLately, I have begun to think that we should not have engaged them in the first place. Maybe we should have taken the hint when they killed our ambassador all those years ago and just let them be. Perhaps I should recall the troops once ad for all.\n\nHere is someone crawling along the tunnel. No, no more thoughts of retreat. I must put on a brave face and carry on the fight that my bloodline started so any generations ago. I see Private Thrip enter the war room and straighten himself up, “Sir!”\n\n“Yes, what is it, soldier?”\n\n“I’ve just received word from our intelligence agents on Earth. There has been new mention of our planet”, I could tell that Thrip was not keen on telling me whatever this news was.\n\n“Well, out with it! It will reach me one way or the other!”\n\nPrivate Thrip bowed in response, “They mock us, sir. Not only do they speak of us as annoyances on their own planet, but now they have proclaimed that our own home has not the right to be called a planet anymore. “Pluto”, as they call our planet, has been renounced as one. They wish us to believe we are insignificant in all aspects.”\n\nI heard myself sigh. Well, if I had been looking for a sign, this could not have come in any more clearly. They were playing with us. They had been for years, now that I looked back. It was time to grow on our own, outside of war. All I had to do was give the order, “Pull them out.”\n\n“Sir? Pull who out, sir?”\n\n“All of them. I will not allow this fight to continue. There is nothing in it. Have all of our forces return home. It will be a long endeavor in and of its self, so start right away. Begin with the B.E.E.S.”\n"
] |
[
1,
2,
5,
16,
24
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[
"1445359359",
"1445356282",
"1445320283",
"1445318029",
"1445319827"
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|
[WP] You live in a world where people can feel it when their soulmate is hurt or injured. Your soulmate is playing russian roulette.
| 7
|
[
"\"…Oh! Jacob…\"\n\nThe words no sooner escaped my lips than I winced, watching as the tuxedoed man explained the rules to the crowd. The pot started at ten million, and it was double or nothing; each subsequent pull of the trigger would multiply the winnings. In general, it was an easy game; as long as the barrel was allowed to spin and come to a complete stop before being locked into the revolver, the weight of the bullet would usually cause it to hang at the bottom, almost guaranteeing the first two shots to be empty. It wasn't the first time Jacob had volunteered to play; he knew the odds, and felt russian roulette to be a fairly calculated risk. *Easy money,* as he liked to say.\n\nThe tuxedoed man must have known the odds too; the barrel twirled for nary a few seconds before the man flicked his wrist and a loud *click!* resonated around the room, locking the bullet into place. Now the odds for each shot were effectively 1 in 2: live, or die. \n\nMy heart skipped a beat. Jacob looked so handsome with that cocky grin, with the light glinting off his glasses as he smiled in the face of death. He'd never admit it directly for my sake, but I knew that moment was what he secretly lived for; the real thrill of not knowing, that exciting rush of anxiety as your brain screams no but your heart beats faster than lightning, pumping the blood and adrenaline through your system faster than a junkie shooting up three bottles of heroin. He craved it more than sex, that feeling of being alive; it was primal, instinctual, and the most manly thing he could ever do was triumph and survive.\n\n*One…*",
"They've caught him. I can feel it in every sharp crack against my cheek, and it burns. \n\nIt was only a matter of time. I knew what John was doing but I loved him anyway. I loved him enough to always keep a gun in my boot and a knife on my hip and never think twice about it. I figured if I ever really needed them, I wouldn't have time to anyway. \n\nI'm almost to the door when another one comes into my stomach. I ignore it an push on, out the door to our apartment and down the stairs. I have to remind myself, my body that this isn't me. I barely make it to the front door of our building before I feel another blow to the face. There's no time to see if the blood I feel is mine. I just keep running. \n\nThe docks are only a few blocks away. They killed his brother there, why not him. I run through every throbbing bash and blow. I feel the muscles in my arm twist and a dull pain in my knees. It's just another block. \n\nI round the corner to the row of dock houses. Another hard one to the back of the head sends me tumbling forward. Every punishing ache in my body has only pushed me further. I pull my gun out of my boot and walk to the same dock house I was in only a week before. \n\nJust inside a cracked window I can see John, arms bound behind his back and kneeling on the ground before his uncle, Samuel. One of the other two men standing around him says something but my attention is on the single bullet Samuel puts into a gun. It looks a lot like mine but with a bloody grip. He motions to another to cut John's bindings while he spins the cylinder. I can see a glimmer in his eye as he smirks. \n\nI see the butt of the gun crash down against John's cheek and feel the stone hard wood against my own. I move towards the door slowly; it's already open about an inch. I look through the crack to see Samuel hand the gun to John.\n\n\"You can be a man and do this or we can do you like we did Pete.\" \n\nJohn puts the gun to his head. I rip open the door before he can pull the trigger and fire three shots. Samuel staggers back and the other two go down clean. Practice finally pays off. \n\nJohn turns to me, bloodied and battered and my heart sinks. Then I feel it, like a flaming arrow through my brain. He falls to the floor but the fire is still burning. I feel another shot. This one is mine. The searing in my head was being replaced by the throbbing pain in my arm. \n\nI reel around and fire off two more shots. One lands square in Samuel's shoulder. My knees buckle as his backup gun falls from his hands. He has the same look in his eyes that he left John's brother with. \n\nI'm a volcano that family rules said was never allowed to erupt. It's enough to make me lean in, knife in hand. I cover his mouth with one hand despite the pain and whisper to him. \n\n\"I only wish your whore wife was still alive to feel this.\" \n\nAnd I start cutting.",
"I can feel it. The intensity of the despair has been building for a while. I'm actually in a good place right now, so I know it must be her. She probably hasn't felt anything from me since spring. She's been hurting, and now she's become reckless. I don't know what she's doing right now, but I know it's risky. I wish I could just find her... let her know she's not alone.\n\n\nI can feel her pain, both emotional and physical, but there's nothing I can do. Months ago it was the recurrent pains of a hangover every single day. Then, it began to shift to streaks of pain on various parts of the body. Now It's entered a cyclic pattern. It builds to a boiling point and then a gush of relief comes, but even that is tinged with anguish. I have to get to her somehow. My pace quickens.\n\n\n\n I've been searching for her my entire life and now I'm afraid I'll lose her. It's killing me.\n\nI feel it building once again, and I know I have to save her. Luckily, I've arrived. \n\nWe're almost at the boiling point now and I'm primed to send a message. I step through the sliding doors and slide into a nearby wheelchair.\n\n\n\"Sir, are you alright?\" The triage nurse asks worriedly.\n\n\n\"I hope we'll both be, ma'am\"\n\n\nI plunge the pocket knife into my chest."
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1,
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3
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[
"1445318947",
"1445322728",
"1445317893"
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[WP] The Princess has been kidnapped and locked away in a hightower, guarded by a dragon. Only a brave knight can save her. Give this story a modern twist.
| 29
|
[
"Sir Dedrick finished tightening up his boot strap and snapped his head up to the loud crack of the dragons roar. Before him lay the Grand Castle of Yeaton. A monument to man and all his glory. Grey covered every inch of the castle. Tiny squares of space were sprayed throughout the castle which gave insiders views to the outside. Standing on the bridge leading directly into the heart of the castle Dedrick was surrounded by rubble. Swords and armor of battles past lined the bridge. At the highest tower was held Princess Amelia. She was trapped by the beast below who ruled over the Grand Castle of Yeaton for his own. The dragon was known as Francis. An enormous beast standing over fifty feet tall. The dragon was night black, like the windows of the castle, but spewed orange fire from his mouth when needed. Many men far greater than Dedrick had tried and failed to save the princess. Dedrick knew it would be a long shot, but he took one last deep breath and headed into the castle.\n\nAs Dedrick entered into the great hall, which had held so many wonderful parties, he saw what damage the dragon had done. The whole hall seemed to be charred from fire. Tables and chairs were many great men sat were broken and thrown around. Dedrick started to step over the broken furniture and saw the dragon at a distance down the hall. He could only make out the dragon's black scales as they vanished around the corner. Dedrick hugged to the right of the hallway making sure to not walk in the middle. As he took each step so deftly as not to alert the beast of his position, he could hear a laugh bouncing off the walls of the hall. Then a deep voice that filled the room and seemingly shook the ground at Dedrick's feet.\n\n\"This one is so small. Ha Ha Ha. What is the point of wasting your life little man?\" Francis bellowed down the hall knowing the effect it would have on his would be adversary. Dedrick was screaming on the inside to turn and run, but he puffed his chest up and spoke to the disembodied voice mocking him.\n\n\"I would sacrifice my life a thousand times over if it meant the end of you! You have been given once chance to surrender the princess and we will leave the castle never to bother you again.\" As much as Dedrick wanted to sound brave he felt like he was made of glass and the dragon would be able to see right through him.\n\n\"My prize possession is what you seek? I am afraid the princess is beyond value. Even though she is a nuisance and always complain she well worth her weight in gold. As far as leaving this castle I am afraid you will never get the chance to leave. Turn quickly and look behind you, for it is the last time you will see the outside world.\" Dedrick upon hearing the dragon may know where he was quickly darted across the hallway to the other side. After his move was complete the dragon spoke again from deep within his chest.\n\n\"Very well. I see we have a man who wants to die for honor. Who am I to turn down your last request. Don't worry my fire will make it quick. As far as the princess goes she will not have it so easy.\" Right after the dragon finished speaking Dedrick could hear a faint rumble. The hall was so large and so cavernous that Dedrick could not get a feel of where the sound was coming from. He panicked and started to spin around looking for any sign he could of the dragon. To his left a loud crash was heard and Dedrick could finally see his foe in full. He was bigger than he imagined, and had broken through a wall. Cement pounded around Dedrick as he put his shield toward the impact. Realizing the dragon was on top of him and building up to unleash his fire, Dedrick quickly went under the dragon. As he was running under the belly of the beast and passing a foot he slashed with his sword and took a deep cut into the dragons heel. The dragon let out a yelp, and to which Dedrick swiped one more time at the under skin the tail. The dragon tried to turn, which forced Dedrick to run around the back of the beast. Dedrick ran up the tail and towards the back. Fortunately for Dedrick, the dragon was leaning forward enough looking for the man, he could get the very top of the dragons head. He put both hands on his sword and thrusted downward into the dragons eye. The dragon flailed sending Dedrick sliding down the slippery back of the beast and hitting the ground with a thump. Dedrick stood up with the cold blast hitting him from the outside of the great castle. \n\n\"You are to slow, and now blind. I will give you one last chance to surrender and get out with but a blind eye.\" To this the dragon turned and quickly charged at Dedrick. Dedrick too cover behind one of the pillars as the dragon ran by. Dedrick saw the dragon run past and to the bridge. The dragon kept running and fell off the side of the bridge to the deepest depths and his death.\n\nDedrick had no time to think of his accomplishment. Instead he quickly ran up the steps to the highest tower. Taking two at a time he reached the door to the room and shoulder charged in. Breaking the door down he quickly stood up breathing hard. For the first time ever he was able to gaze upon Princess Amelia. \n\nFor what he saw took him aback. The princesses's long blond hair was wrapped around the front her blouse. He peered into her deep blue eyes and did not see tears. Even though this is what he expected no tears seemed to have come from those majestic eyes. He looked around the room and saw many fine pieces of jewelry and clothes. To Dedrick this was on the most elegant individual rooms he had ever seen. Much better than his hay stack and lice infested beds he took for sleep. The princess was standing staring at him with her hands on her hips.\n\n\"I mean it is great and all you have come to save me, but did you have to break down the door? Also why run up here? You smell like a pig by the way. Also why are you so short? I expected the one to be taller and a lot blonder than you are.\" Dedrick just stood with his mouth open. He had never meet someone so ungrateful in his life.\n\n\"My lady, I have come from a great distance to save you. First I must ask if you are all right?\" The princess gave an exaggerated laugh.\n\n\"I guess fine, just disappointed in your height really. Also the armor you are wearing is atrocious. Those colors don't match. When you saw yourself in all your dreams, did you imagine this horrible outfit combo, or did you think of something else? Because let me tell you that isn't working for me at all!\" Dedrick and looked down at his armor and felt wrong about everything. This is not how it was supposed to go. He had been dreaming of this day for many years. He shook his head and made his reply.\n\n\"I passed by some armor on the way up my lady. Would it please you if I changed?\" The princess gave him a nod and Dedrick quickly went down to change. \n\nWhen he came back up the princess was combing her hair in the mirror. He gave a little bow to the princess and awaited her reply. She turned and gave him a nonchalant wave. \n\n\"I guess we can't get everything we want right? Well then we better get going if I am going to make it home before supper. You do have a horse right? It better not be a donkey or something because there is no way I am getting on a donkey.\" Dedrick did in fact have a donkey. His last horse had died and he had no money to buy another. The donkey was the only way he could get out to the castle. Dedrick then realized how hard dating had become.\n",
"The princess was locked away in a tower high above, \n\n\nGuarded by a dragon whose soul is rather corrupt, \n\n\nOnly a brave knight can save her, with his love, \n\n\nThe knight climbed and climbed and climbed higher up, \n\n\nUp the active volcano which could any time erupt, \n\n\nHe reached the top and fought the dragon, so rough, \n\n\nThe knight finished the ol dragon with a shove, \n\n\nBut right before the princess he stopped abrupt, \n\n \n\n\nThe man shouted at his app game which is now dud, \n\n\n\nLooks like his phone was accidentally unplugged. \n",
"CIA Black Site \"Finch\" - 0300\n\n19 October, 2015\n\n\nShe was watching everything through the small slot in the door, torn between her duty and her conscious. Inside the windowless chamber a man hung from the ceiling, his arms tied to the rafters and his legs hanging limply below him, kicking feebly in one last pathetic act of defiance. They were getting through to him. The man in the black mask paced around him, letting his hand glide gently over the prisoners body, who recoiled at each touch. \n\n\"Same question as every day, 173. Where can we find The Princess? Who is keeping her?\" The masked man whispered, his gentle voice echoing throughout the cell. No reply came. The tone in the mans voice changed, and rage spread across his unseen face. He grabbed the prisoner by his filthy and unkempt hair, pulling his head back and exposing his throat. \"Not answering is lying. When you lie, you get hurt.\" A heavy fist landed on the prisoners side and the sickening crunch of shattering ribs cause the woman at the door to retch amidst the screaming. The masked man persisted, \"Where is The Princess? Who is keeping her?\"\n\nThe prisoner struggled to regain his ragged breathing, whimpering with each successive breath. He slowly raised his head, the simply effort of this action sending quakes through his body. He looked out through the dark pits of his eyes, out the grate of the door and directly at the woman outside. \n\n\"Fuck you.\"\n\nThe man in the mask brought the back of a hand across his cheek, sending a smatter of blood and spittle out over the floor. He looked up to the two other masked men, who stood silently against the wall. \"Drop him. Grab the bucket.\" The prisoner fell to the ground, his body landing in a heap of broken bones and shattered spirit. Before he had a chance to process what was occurring, the three masked men were atop him. They held him to the ground and a blood stained rag was thrown over his face.\n\n\"Where is The Princess?\" The only response was a muffled curse. They began to pour water over the prisoners rag covered face, holding him tight so that he could not shake free. \"Who is keeping her?\" As the necessity of breath kicked in, the mans lungs filled with water, and his body was racked with spasms. The masked man shouted over the sickening gurgle of the drowning prisoner. \"Where is The Princess? Who is Keeping her?\"\n\nThey pulled the rag from his face and the prisoner began to cough up water and blood, his chest desperately heaving to expel the fluid before it killed him. As he choked out the last of the putrid water he began to sob. \"Please. Please, no more. O'dinsalambad has her in his lair. Please, just let me go.\"\n\n\"Where is it?\" \n\n\"I don't know! Please! I was just in charge of accounting his treasure hoard, I had nothing to do with the attacks! Please!\"\n\n\"Not good enough. Half truths are lying.\" The masked man snapped. \"Fill the bucket again.\"\n\n\"No! Please! There is a squire! He sends messages for the mighty dragon. His name is Ser Abrial O'mad. Just. Let. Me. Go.\" \n\nThe masked man stood up from the prisoners chest, turning to look out the door at the woman. He pulled the mask from his face and smiled beneath his bushy beard. \n\n\"We got him. Enemy number one.\" He turned back towards the other men in the cell. \"Now fill the bucket again.\"\n\n...\n\n\nPentagon Situation Room - 1750\n\n23 November, 2015\n\nSeventeen men sat around the table, the amount of metal on their chests enough to blind her in the evenings setting sun. At the head of the table a man sat in a crisp blue suit, his hands laced dramatically in front of him. \n\n\"How sure are you this tower is where he has her?\" Asked the suited man, directing the question out into the entire room.\n\n\"65%, Your Majesty. The CIA has about the same probability. It's not certain, but it's better than any other lead we have had.\" Responded one of the uniformed men. \"However, that number decreases every day as our information grows older, sir.\"\n\nThe man in the suit grimaced, the weight of the situation etched bluntly into the wrinkles of his face. \"If my daughter is in that tower, I want her back, but those odds are though to swallow.\"\n\nThe woman, who stood with a small crowd at the back of the room, stepped forwards, nervously brushing the wrinkles out of her suit jacket as she did so. \"I am 100% confident your majesty.\" Every head in the room turned to look at her, a gentle murmur rising around the room. \n\n\"And who are you?\"\n\n\"I'm the analyst who found this tower.\" She responded cooly. Pointing at the scale model that sat in the center of the table she continued. \"Look, this is an accurate replica of the hightower where we think The Princess is being held. Do you see the size of the doors? There is only one reason why a tower would need a set of doors that are nearly thirty feet wide. We used deep cover assets to track the whereabouts of a courier. He ran messages between the known location of seven of the highest ranking officers of the Order of the Dragon at completely random intervals. The only commonality was that once a month he visited this tower. I am 100% confident that his is where O'dinsalambad has your daughter.\"\n\nThe king paused, studying the woman intensely. Slowly he formulated his response, \"Saying we did choose to strike, what options would we have?\"\n\n\"Surface to surface missiles could accurately hit a target that size from a base hundreds of miles away.\" Interjected one of the uniformed men. \n\n\"We have no idea if it's a hardened shelter, plus we don't want to kill the princess.\" \n\n\"What if we used KNIGHT?\" Suggested a man from the end of the table.\n\nConfused murmuring spread around the table and several of the officers shifted uncomfortably. The King looked up in confusion and looked to the general on his right. \"What is KNIGHT and why have I never heard of it?\"\n\n\"Your Majesty, it's an experimental exoskeleton being developed by DARPA. We have deployed it in Somalia and the Rwandan jungle, but never in any risk intensive situation. It is also highly classified and comes with a significant...drawback. The suit is highly mentally intensive on the subject.\"\n\nThe King paused for a moment and then looked up, making eye contact with the woman. \"Well, I know the perfect pilot.\"\n\n...\n\nHightower, Pakistan - 0030\n\n3 December, 2015\n\nThe stealth modified helicopter tore through the night sky, its blades whipping soundlessly above. They rocked back and forth, turning sharply on occasion to skirt Pakistani radar towers. The woman looked past the door gunner the sky was a brilliant array of stars, shining stubbornly in the void of city light. Suddenly, her vision went fuzzy and a piercing pain shot through her head, as if a blade was sawing its way through her brain. She instinctively reached up and touched the back of her neck, where three thick wires attached to the metal plate that was now part of her body.\n\nA radio crackled, not one in the helicopter, but one in her mind. \"45 seconds to AO. Prep for drop.\" \n\nShe stood up, still surprised by the unnatural movement her carbon nanotube encasement gave her. She shuffled bulkily to the to door, grabbing onto the handle at the precipice and looking down over the edge, the ground still speeding by below her. She turned to the crew member who stood beside her. \"Wheres the harness?\"\n\nHe laughed. \"A'int no harness in that thing. Just jump - KNIGHT will do the rest. Your go in five.\"\n\n4...\n3...\n2...\n1...\n\nShe closed her eyes as she jumped, she couldn't help it. Not that KNIGHT cared, feeding the footage of the 100 foot fall directly into her mind. Blinking took time. Bad things could happen in that time. She slammed into the ground with barely a jolt, though her feet left thick divots in the ground. \n\n\"KNIGHT, this is Overlord. Seven minutes to extract. Go.\"\n\nShe ran forwards, covering the ground so fast that she had to stop frantically before she slammed into the massive doors of the tower. She reached up and grasped the massive chain that served as a handle, effortlessly pulling open the thousand pound door. The chamber inside was a vast circular room, void except for a single ring of pillars along the outside, and of course, what lay sleeping in the center. \n\nA vast pile of gold and jewels lay heaped in a great mass, spilling over itself like a living mass of metal. Atop this throne lay a great scaled beast, its wings folded over its body and each slow breath bringing forth a spout of acrid smoke. When she entered the chamber it took two great inhales and then the simple green body of the dragon was interrupted by a fiery red eye. Before it could react she had leapt upon its back, scaling her way up the base of its great skull. She reached down and took hold of one of the massive spikes that ran along its spine, breaking it free while the dragon roared. Raising the spike high over head she brought it crashing down, stabbing through the dragons thick hide and into its thick neck. It shuttered briefly and then collapsed. \n\n\"Kill confirmed, the dragon is dead.\"\n\nShe pulled herself from a pile of dead flesh and gold treasure, making her way to the back of the chamber were a thin case of stairs led spiraling up. She ran up the stairs and burst into the room at the top. The Princess sat crying on the edge of a crude bed, her tattered dress hanging pitifully around her shoulders. She looked up as the woman entered, a gleam of unexpected joy filling her eye. \n\n\"Are you my knight in shining armor?\"\n\nThe woman reached up and pressed the button on the side of her helmet, so that the visor slid back to reveal her face. \"This isn't a fucking fairy tale. Now let's go.\"\n\n"
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3,
4,
24
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[
"1445334453",
"1445337423",
"1445338206"
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[WP] Everyone is sitting in purgatory telling stories of how their death is worse than anyone else's until someone's story silences everyone.
| 15
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[
" \"You don't understand, my *wife* took a pickaxe to the back of my head!\"\n\n \"Yeah because she walked in on you and your single-mother neighbor, just because it's gruesome doesn't make it bad, especially when it was warranted. You kind of deserved it. Tim died trying to save his kid after a drunk driver ran them off of a bridge, in the dead of winter no less. Take a seat and wait your turn.\"\n\n Peter placed a check mark into the box marked *ordinary* and read out the next name. \"Alec, please come forward.\"\n\n An exceptionally tall man with thick blonde hair walked through the red velvet tapestry. He was thirty-three years old. Peter could not read the expression on his face, which was odd. Peter always had an uncanny ability to know from which direction the upcoming story would be coming from. When Alec sat down, he finally showed a sliver of discomfort.\n\n \"Please know, Alec, that you cannot lie while speaking to me. I will not interrupt you, no matter where your story stakes us, I will wait until you are finished to ask for clarification of any misunderstandings that I may have. With that in mind, proceed to outline the entire scenario in which you find yourself here,\" he paused, \"tell me how you died.\"\n\n Alec twisted his mouth to one side and sighed heavily before pursing his lips. He spoke calmly, \"You will not be happy with my elucidation, but as you wish Sir.\nThere was an issue with the monthly shipment that I received from my supplier. Typically, the shipments arrive precisely at the designated time and place that he alludes to me through a series of signs and messages. However, this month or last, or whenever it was exactly from this time right now since I died, time is mind-bending in this place; I received a messaged indicating that he would have to expedite the shipment and it would arrive six days early.\" \n\n Alec paused and looked around. He noticed that the five people who had passed through the red velvet curtain before him were taking up five of ten seats that were behind him, in front of Peter. They were talking among themselves, and while only being eight-odd feet behind him, he could not hear what they were saying. \n \nHe turned back to Peter, \"Now, when I had received the message that my supplier would be delivering my product six days early, I knew something was aloof. In order for our relationship to remain withstanding, we always made sure to strictly follow a set of rules. The number one rule was that if there was any change to the normal pick-up date and time, the other had to have at least a weeks notice. If more than a weeks notice wasn't given, then I would simply stretch my product to last two months, and he knew this. So, when I contacted him he said that he knew it wasn't our usual deal, but there was a mix-up on his end. He assured me everything was alright between us, but he couldn't keep my order for another month.\"\n\nAlec shifted in his seated and looked back at the entrance in the curtain. A bright, warm light shown through it. \"I had actually torn through my previous month faster than anticipated. There wasn't that much left to it, but there was enough to last if I really stretched it; just in case if this next shipment seemed too risky to pick up. However, when I arrived, everything went just like the first seventy-one months. The oversized duffle-bag was waiting for me on the park bench and I deposited the paper bag filled with a million dollars into the trash can next to it. Now this is where things went South. After I placed the bag in my trunk and started driving back to my apartment, I noticed a vehicle behind me that had also been behind me on my way to pick it up. And I knew it wasn't a mom with a kid at the park, they wouldn't only spend four minutes there. I always thought that I would panic in that kind of scenario, but I don't think my heart rate ever rose above normal. When I pulled in front of my apartment, I slowly retrieved the bag, and walked through my front door, hoping they wouldn't rush in behind me to give me some time to dispose of it. As soon as I locked the door behind I began to sprint with the bag into my cellar, locking that door behind me as well, three deadbolts to slow them down. I opened the door under the stairs, the fifty-five gallon drum that I always had filled with hydrofluoric acid was behind it. Everyone in my circle has a setup like this, the entire thing was my supplier's brilliant idea actually. I unzipped the duffle-bag and pulled out the naked, unconscious eight year old girl by the hair and raised her up in order to place her in the drum. I had just gotten her into about the ankles when the door at the top of the steps blew open. The last thing I remember was her screaming. I guess she wasn't unconscious anymore.\"\n\nSaint Peter looked up from his transcription as his nerves began to shake. He looked past Alec's broadening smile to the five souls that were sitting in the chairs in front of him. They had stopped talking and were staring at Alec. The light that had been shinning through the opening in the red velvet curtain was replaced by incomprehensible darkness, a complete and utter void of light. \"Why did he send you?\" Saint Peter asked with hesitation, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. Alec moved in his seat, the velvet curtain unraveled and frayed. It caught ablaze from both sides of the entrance and engulfed the other five souls in the room. The writhed and screamed until Alec raised his hand and they disappeared through the opening that remained into the blackness. \n\nAlec turned to Saint Peter, \"I am sorry Peter, He sent me to kill you.\" \n\n ",
"There were four in the Room, though the Room itself was hard to define - like a shadow on stone, something *there* but not tangible. Once in a while somebody would walk in and take a seat; once in a while someone else would quietly stand up and walk out, ushered away by the smoke-like spectres that seemed to roam the dark plains beyond the doorway, whispering softly.\n\nIt had been a while now, but some part of Katrina's mind told her to speak.\n\n\"H...hello?\" She almost jumped as the others looked up at her. She hadn't expected anyone to actually hear her, what with this place being so silent. \"I...I'm Katrina.\"\n\n\"Samuel,\" the man on her left waved timidly. He clutched a small briefcase close to his chest as if it mattered.\n\n\"Carter,\" the man opposite boomed, leaning back in his chair. \"We're dead, aren't we?\"\n\nThe woman on Katrina's right looked up, her face a mask of tears, and then buried it in her hands. The others sat silent for a moment, letting her sobs echo off the ethereal walls.\n\n\"Well it's no use crying now,\" Carter said. \"Hell, if anyone should be weeping it's me.\" He tugged at his gaudily-coloured t-shirt, pointing at a crest on the left. \"Carter Harvey, Ferwick F.C. We were playing football, you see - made a bad tackle mid-game and swallowed my tongue in the collision.\" He scowled, and his face seemed to turn blue. \"Choked to death on my own fucking tongue in front of a thousand people. How shameful is that?\"\n\nAs Carter slumped back in his chair, dead-eyed, Samuel piped up. \"I...I was running late for my train...a business meeting, very important...so important...mustn't be late...\" Katrina gasped as his face seemed to rip apart, glasses shattering, blood dripping down his neck. \"I was only crossing the road...\" He looked down at his crumpled chest and his head fell neatly into his lap. \"...mustn't be late...\"\n\nKatrina looked down and saw a dark red stain spreading across her belly. She breathed in sharply and looked up, trying to ignore the sensation of trickling cold.\n\n\"How'd you get that?\" Carter asked, pointing at her stomach.\n\n\"I was on a skiing holiday in Canada,\" she replied as the memories surged back. \"It was such a nice day, and the run was the fastest I've ever seen it. And then...I came off.\" Those terrible images flashed through her mind again: the short flight over the slope, the trees rushing to meet her, the sudden punch of a half-broken branch through her gut. \"It took me a while to die,\" she nodded. \"I couldn't even scream...\"\n\n\"That must've been gutting,\" Samuel spoke from his lap.\n\nThere was a soft shuffle of feet, and another man entered the room carrying a book in his hand. Carter turned to him. \"Take a seat, take a seat - we're just telling each other how we died. You'll get your turn - but first, Miss Weepy over here.\"\n\nThe man looked around for a seat as Carter leaned toward the crying woman. \"Go on, then. Tell us your sob story. Was it brutal? Gruesome?\"\n\nShe looked up, long black hair falling across her face. \"My name is Mia, and I died in my sleep.\"\n\nFor a moment there was silence. \"Is that...*it*?\" Carter's eyebrow flew up. \"All that crying over something so *clean*?\"\n\n\"I'm not crying for myself,\" she replied, drawing herself up. Although she was slim and unassuming, Katrina could sense an inner strength to her. \"I had a husband, the kind of man who would go to the ends of the earth for me. I had a house, a nice place in a quiet suburb, with cherry blossoms in spring and orange oak-leaves in the fall...I had a good job, a good life...and a daughter.\" Her mouth trembled, but she gathered her strength and continued. \"I just wanted to live longer for them. Ellie's only two, and he...we were the world to him. I don't want to think about what happened when he woke up, or what he'll have to tell her when she grows older...\"\n\nShe broke down again, hands flying to her face, and Katrina suddenly felt colder. \"Well...uh...\" Carter began, but words failed him. He looked around as if for an escape. \"Ah! Newcomer! Tell us then, how did you die?\"\n\nKatrina realised with a start that the whispers outside had gone silent. No shadows moved beyond the doorway. And as the man stood up he seemed to glow, a bright golden light that seemed to travel up his arm from the book he carried.\n\n\"I am not dead.\"\n\nThe weeping woman looked up, mouth open in surprise. She seemed to tremble as he stood and walked over to her, hand outstretched. As their fingers touched the light travelled down her arm and set her body aglow. Her other hand reached out and touched his cheek.\n\n\"You came!\"\n\nHe nodded, glancing down at the book in his hand. \"To the ends of the earth, Mia, and beyond. Whatever it takes.\"\n\nKatrina tried to stand, but no movement came. She saw with a start that Samuel and Carter were being held down by shadowy figures, keeping them in their seats. More were phasing through the walls, but as they tried to reach for Mia the glow drove them back.\n\n\"Don't worry,\" the man said to Mia, \"you're safe with me. Let's go.\"\n\nThe glow brightened, and Katrina felt the hands lift from her shoulders. She stood up, but the light was so intense that she had to shield her eyes. Through her blindness the voice spoke once more.\n\n\"Ellie's waiting for us.\"\n\nThe light vanished. The whispers returned. And for an eternity the three just stood there, wordless, a trio of lost souls on a plain without ending.",
"OK, fine. I don't know why we'd be sharing these fucking stories, out of all the things we could be talking about, but if you're going to keep going on about it, fine. Fuck it. Where should I start? With the intestines? With the skin peeling? With the eyeballs?\n\nOh, chronologically? Listen to this motherfucker. Beginning, middle and end, eh? Three act structure? That what you're looking for?\n\nAlright, alright, alright. \n\nI... you know what? Fuck you guys.\n\nNo, Annie, no. Fuck this. Annie - seriously. Fuck this. I've got better things to do...\n\nAh, shit.\n\nShit.\n\nI was at home, alone. 'Netflix and chill' is fucking depressing when you're on your own. I was on my third season of Battlestar Galactica -\n\nFuck you, Todd. It's a great show.\n\nI was watching my third... I was just beginning a new episode, when I... I've always had dry skin, right? It cracks, it's kind of scaly and lizardy. It normally comes off in flakes when I pick at it. I grabbed the end of this flake, and -\n\nFuck you, Sandy. Fuck you. Fuck. You. I sit here and listen to that fucking story about you running yourself over - *with your own car*, Sandy - and I don't say a word. I don't say what a fucking idiot you have to be. I don't tell you that it's totally normal that you can release a handbrake, walk in front of car, and then manage to *not* get out of the way. There have to be probably five or six people in the entire history of the world that have managed to do what you did, and I had to sit there like a fucking saint to not tell you what a -\n\nAnnie, come on. I'm - \n\nFine. Fine. I pulled this piece of skin off the sole of my foot. It didn't flake off this time. It just kept pulling. I got about three inches in, and suddenly, it freaked me out. I pulled it really hard, trying to snap it off like you would with a thread. But the thing is, I was sitting next to this fan.\n\nYes, Artie. A fan of skin pulling. He'd come round to -\n\nWell it was a stupid fucking question! A fucking spinning... air circulating... a fucking fan, Artie. Jesus.\n\nWell, the next few inches of skin were... looser, I guess. I pulled at it just came free, you know? It got caught in the blade, and the blade kept spinning. I thought that it would clog up, eventually, but it wasn't like that. It went round a few times and out the other side. It just... unravelled me. I could feel it pulling up my body.\n\nOh, yeah? Why didn't I stop it? Seriously? That's your fucking question? Well, I wish you'd been there. I wouldn't be sat here with you fucking idiots: the car suicide, the three-storey wing-suit glider, the cop who doesn't like bullets and the paper shredder with the long tie. Like you're all fucking geniuses.\n\nI tried to snap it off. I did. Every time I grabbed at the unravelling thread of skin, it pulled my fingers into the fan. This was a good fan, too. Industrial. I'd bought it from a - never mind.\n\nAnyway, it had got up to about my thighs when I had the bright idea of throwing myself the *other* way. You know, every action has an equal and opposite *re*action. I'd try and snap it off with the momentum from moving the other way. So I jump away from the fan, holding the skin, and brain myself on this heavy antique clock. I'm dazed, weaving from side to side, and all the time, the skin is just peeling off my body. At some point, near my neck, it got down to the next layer of skin and - path of least resistance - started taking that, winding back and back, down my body, just leaving flesh and blood and muscle. \n\nDoes anyone have any water?\n\nI can't believe I asked that.\n\nAnyway, so I'm starting to lose a lot of blood now. I get dizzy. The fan's still turning, I'm still losing the rest of my skin. I'm just this normal head and a horror show underneath. I'm starting to faint, so I run towards the window. I'm so dizzy and disoriented, I crash straight through it. This shard of glass falls down and slits what's left of my stomach open. Intestines fall out. I'm trying to put them back in, but with no skin, it's just...\n\nI don't know.\n\nI'm near death already at this point. I keel over backwards, out of the window and on to the fire escape, and I detach my retina when my head hits the metal. The last image I have is my own face, from my eyeball that's hanging out of my head and has somehow managed to point back at me.\n\nThen I die. \n\nI don't know, Carl, you fucking twat. Blood loss? Shock? Massive internal bleeding? Evisceration? At that point, does it matter? Shit, I'd have been more pissed off if I'd *survived.*\n\nThen I wake up with you fucking dickheads. Hell for idiots. \n\nWhat?\n\nYeah, yeah. Annie - Truth or dare?"
] |
[
1,
3,
6
] |
[
"1445480679",
"1445392503",
"1445381042"
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|
[WP] A genie in a bottle is unleashed during the time period of your choice, and grants three wishes that result in actual historical events.
| 29
|
[
"\"So you claim to be a genie? One who grants impossible wishes, and the wildest dreams out of the reach of my mortal grasp?\" The man pranced about the room, dressed in nothing but a silken white toga, wrapped immaculately around his grand figure.\n\nA genie stood at the other end of the room, oozing with magical energy. \"Yes, you stupid little Greek man! I have told you this!\" He pointed his finger at the nearby bed and turned it into a horse. Which, confused at its sudden manifestation, began to whinny and run around the room in circles; knocking over all manner of priceless artifacts.\n\n\"Stop that!\" the man yelled at the genie, and he reluctantly turned the frenzied horse not back into a bed, but a statue of bronze. \"Now I've got a horse statue, what need have I for that?\"\n\nHe shook his head and continued pacing around the room once again. \"So you tell me you can grant a wish? Well then, if you are a deity - I wish for you to make all my enemies gullible and foolish, so that we may win the war!\"\n\nThe genie snapped his fingers. \"Done. Although you'll have to take my word for that one.\"\n\n\"I also wish for my men to be brave, and to listen to all the plans I set forth!\"\n\nThe genie chuckled and snapped his fingers once again. \"You know, normally people wish for less direct things, like, material wealth or love or the death of their sworn enemy. But you're different.\"\n\nThe Greek laughed right back at him, as if rejecting his statements. \"I do wish for something material, actually!\"\n\nHe points across the room. \"For my last wish, I want a gigantic wooden horse!\n\n* * *\n\nIf you enjoyed that silly little thing, come over to /r/khaarus!",
"\"It's hot. Make it less hot.\" \n\"Your wish is my command.\" \n*A large, shady tree appears* \n\"I'm hungry. I want food.\" \n\"Your wish is my command.\" \n*An apple sprouts out of a branch and falls off the tree* \n\"Ouch! Hey, that hurt! Why'd you drop it on my head? What if I turn stupid? and it'll be all your fault!\" \n\"I don't see how you can turn stupider than you are now.\" \n\"Then.. then for my last wish, I will become one of the smartest people in the world!\" \n\"Your wish is my command.\" \n*The genie vanishes in a poof of smoke* \n\"Holy ****. The apple fell because of gravity. Gravity makes things fall. Mind blown. Gotta tell everyone about this.\""
] |
[
7,
21
] |
[
"1445437040",
"1445419460"
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|
[WP] You and your strike team have accessed the source code of the tyrannical AI overlord... and discovered an Easter egg.
| 105
|
[
"\"Come on!\" Said Carsus, who was running from the guards. He and his men arrived at Delta J-9B, a room with a giant locked black door. Carsus planted the C4 and him and his team backed away and blew the door open and ran in.\n\n\"**Welcome**\"\n\nCarsus looked at the supercomputer AI and he looked at one of his men Motor. \"Ready?\"\n\nMotor nodded and pressed the button...Which caused the AI to lose all motor functions except speaking.\n\n\"**What do you plan to do to me?\"** The AI asked.\n\nMotor hacked into the AI using his computer. He was looking through the source code.\n\n\"Finding a way to shut you down once and for all.\" Carsus said.\n\n**Ha...Ha...That is funn-NY. You are messing with my sPEach hUman. IF yOu want to shut me off...Here is my source code for it. Just click it and it will end this pesky war once and for all...**\n\n**[SHUTDOWN.EXE](https://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ)**\n\n\n\n",
"The bulkhead doors slid open slowly beneath the rotating yellow light. Major Clellan and his team waited with rifles at the ready.\n\n\"Mainframe is just through here.\" Specialist Tyler indicated pointing through the opening with a free hand. The Major nodded and without a word gestured his team to move forward. Simultaneously four pairs of boots stepped lightly over the concrete floor, through the threshold where the bulkhead once sat, and towards their objective. In their wake several dozen Securibots sat in pieces, strewn across the floor as if a giant toddler had smashed them to bits. \n\nThe team moved side by side down the long hallway their guns trained at the walls. In a high security base like this Securibots could come at you from anywhere. The team had encountered that just moments again when a whole team of deadly robots slipped out of openings in the walls that appeared almost out of nowhere. In all honesty, Clellan knew they were lucky to be alive, but it didn't phase him. Being the best SOP team did not necessarily mean being the most skilled fighter on the field, or the strongest. History is riddled with men who claimed to be the strongest and smartest alive, yet they died all the same. Clellan would take luck over skill any day, so it was good thing that his team was a whole lotta both. \n\nThe four rounded a corner and saw the mainframe. Before them the hallway opened up into a massive spherical chamber. Long lines of fiber attached to the walls glowed blue in sharp patterns indicative of a massive computer chip. Floors suspended on purplish anti-grav waves followed the long curved wall around the circumference of the room giving the impression of a surface supported by air. In the center of the room a single holographic console radiated bright orange light. Just behind it a white beam of light spanned the whole distance between the northern and southern poles of the chamber. Source code flowed at an incomprehensible fast rate up and down the beam in symbolic packages reminiscent of tiny planets. A single thin floating pathway led out to the beam. \n\nAgain without a word the Major signaled two of his men to secure the oath around the walls. Sergeant Ledoux and Lieutenant Holyfield branched off left and right respectively. Their eyes scanning the pulsating wall of the room. \n\n\"My god it's like a brain.\" Specialist Tyler said in awe pointing out at the fibers. \n\n\"Forward Specialist, stay on task.\" Clellan growled and the young tech expert snapped to the job. The two proceeded in single file towards the central console. The Major felt the tremors in his hands begin to surface. He took a deep breath for calm and ignored his twitching fingers. \n\nThey were so close. The Major could feel it. They stood at the cusp of salvation. At the lip of a canyon treading a path whisker thin, with the hungry eyes of death watching, waiting in the abyss below. Directly ahead was the finish line. The catalyst to finally wake from this nightmare that started, oh so long ago. That began when artificial intelligence hijacked the human race and sent them barreling towards extinction. This moment had been so long in coming. The Major knew if he failed now, if his team failed to shut down the AI, humanity was doomed. *Its the robots or us.* He told himself over and over trying to calm his nerves. \n\nTyler reached the console began working to infiltrate the system. Breaching an AI is next to impossible for a human, but they had come with a plan. The lab coats had developed another AI, one that they lovingly called the Lunatic. The Lunatic was designed to overload the current Intelligence and then self-destruct. Nuclear missiles detonated at high altitude would do the trick and since the robots controlled all the nukes it would seem an appropriate solution. \n\nClellan watched as the Specialist pulled a laptop from his pack. He then set to peeling up a panel on the floor. Beneath the smooth surface sat a myriad of multicolored wires. Clellan spotted the anti-grav stabilizers, flat metallic plates just beneath the layer of fibrous cords. Meanwhile Tyler picked three seperate wires, all green, cut them with a pair of wire cutters, and tied them into his own outfit. \n\n\"Initiating the Lunatic.\" He said the the Major. \n\nClellan nodded and whistled at Ledoux and Holyfield. The two whistled back in affirmative. Tyler stood back up and pulled his rifle up and ready. \n\n\"Downloading Lunatic.\" He whispered. \"Everything is automated from here on out. Should be move Major?\" \n\n\"Hold.\" Clellan replied sharply. He didn't want to chance anything. If they moved away from the computer and something happened there was a good chance they would not get a second chance. No, this was it. Sink or swim the Major was determined to hold his position until the Lunatic was in the system. \n\nFor what felt like hours the room was silent, save for the soft buzzing of the electrical components and the silent *thrum* of the central beam. Suddenly, the tranquil blue walls turned red, then yellow and a deep tone blasted throughout the room. Clellan and Tyler screamed out and put their hands to their ears. The tone resounded off the walls, reverberating through the Major's chest cavity. \n\n\"What's happening!?\" He bellowed at Tyler.\n\n\"It knows we're in the system!\" He yelled back. \"It's trying to fight back!\"\n\n\"Can't you do anything?\" Clellan asked frantically. \n\n\"No sir, it's all automated. This isn't the matrix.\" Tyler replied. \n\nThe Major opened his mouth to respond, but at that exact moment the tone stopped and the yellow fibers went dark. The sphere fell into utter silence and only the thin purplish light of the anti-grav system lite could be seen. An eerie halo of indigo in a back sea of black. \n\n\"Team sound off!\" Clellan shouted, his voice echoing off the unseen walls. \n\n\"Good, sir.\" Ledoux replied.\n\n\"What the hell happened?\" Holyfield yelled back. \n\n\"You tell me Specialist.\" Clellan said turning to Tyler. \n\n\"I...Don't know.\" He replied confused. He turned back to his laptop and tried to type, \"Laptop's fried.\" He said after a moment. \n\n\"Any ideas?\" Clellan pressed persistently. \n\n\"No, sir. That was highly erratic behavior for an AI. These things don't talk to us, nor do they respond in any physical way.\" He began shuffling through his pack.\n\n\"Talking? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"It's a computer, sir. They don't need to see, hear, touch, talk, or taste like we do. They are composed solely of sensors that feed them similar information. Sir, it just screamed at us.\"\n\n\"The hell are you saying soldier?\" Clellan hissed, \"Are you saying that it tried to talk to us?\"\n\nThe Specialists eyes met his. Tyler's mouth was open and his eyes wide with horror, \"No.\" He muttered without moving his lips. \"It screamed out in pain.\" \n\nBright white light flooded the room as the beam reactivated and Major Clellan froze. All around them were dozens of Securibots. Cold lifeless sensors burned blue where the eyes should be. In their metallic hands neutralizers were trained in on the SOP team. On the wall just above the entrance the fibers were lit up spelling out a single sentence. In glowing red artificial lettering it exclaimed; \n\n*I'm afraid I can't let you do that Dave.* \n\n\"Fuck.\" Specialist Tyler said almost causally. \n\nIn a split second, Major Clellan aimed his rifle at the floating floor and opened fire just as the room erupted into chaos. Tyler threw himself to the ground, but as he dropped he noticed that he kept falling. Upon opening his eyes he saw that he was indeed plummeting down into the dark. He felt the tug of a hand latch onto his shoulder strap, but when he looked up to see who grabbed him, he saw nothing but bright flashes of lightning arc across the sphere. Like an epileptic seizure the Mainframe had transformed into a hollow brain, thundering with neural firing. Specialist Tyler opened his mouth to scream, but before the sound could pass his throat he slammed into the base of the room.\n\nHe lay there for a moment on the cold metal floor staring up into the chaos above. Before he faded into unconsciousness, Tyler felt a tug on his shoulder straps. He felt the hands pull him down, down into the murky depths of nothing.\n\nTo be continued. \n\n",
"That was it, finally we have reached the core of the Terminus, an AI system designed by the US goverment to control all of the lives of the americans. The AI have gone rogue about a week ago and then it decided to hack into every Stock Exchange of the world and collapse it economically.\n\nMe and my team have approval of the Pentagon to infiltrate the heavily defended AI complex and shut it down from the inside.\n\n-Why the fuck would you give an extremily dangerous AI automated guards and give the AI itself control over them?! - Paladin, the mission heavy guns specialist shouted as another G-100 explodes to his railgun.\n\n-At the time it sounded a good idea, you know, since this was not in american territory, right Brain?- Lord answered, our field commander.\n\n-At least noone can say that America had soldiers in an concealed base... - I quickly concluded. Brain was my codename, and as much as I hated it, I kinda deserve it as I was lead developer of the AI in the Terminus.\n\nWhile we were chatting 4 new G-100 rushed our position \"QUARANTINE EMERGENCY PROTOCOL A11\" was written in red in a screen at their armor.\n\n-Quickly, in here!-I shouted, before opening a door with my laptop.\n\n-Were is the AI core, Brain?-Lord asked\n\n-Not far from here.\n\nAt the end of a big aisle there was the biggest door of all, but it was no match to my hacking code that i developed before the mission, a code that worked in the entire facility.\n\n-Bam! Last door open!- I said, with a smile in my face.\n\n-Holy pineapples...- Paladin said, as we came inside the AI core.\n\nIt was fascinating really, a huge tower of processing power, 20 yottaflops per second and improving itself with a new technology of adaptative microchips. It was silent, and it almost produced no heat, the room just a little above 26°C just above the facility temperature.\n\nI conected my laptop to one of the USB connections of the tower and started to run the process that would revert the adaptative microchips to their initial state of processing power, no more than an average PC.\nWhen I pressed the button to initiate the reset I suddenly started laughing really loud.\n\n-Whats the problem, Brain?-Lord asked with a look of confusion in his face.\n\n-Sorry sir I just remembered the name we gave to the reset process of the AI.\n\n-And what was it?\n\n-INITIATE SYSTEM RESET 420 BLAZE IT! INITIATE SYSTEM RESET 420 BLAZE IT! INITIATE...- The megaphones in the faciliy started to repeat this words over and over again.\n\n-Why that name?- Lord asked whike laughing, tears coming to his eyes.\n\n-We actually never tought this would be done while we were creating the AI!",
"The shrapnel and sparking innards of its robotic minions littered the ground outside the facility containing the main core of DVKN-V. The rebels are broken and bloodied as they limp toward the building, expecting more retaliation. The AI has designed for itself an impenetrable shell, untouchable to the outside world, and in its hubris neglected to place security measures inside the building. One short stocky coder, glasses cracked and scuffed from the battle outside, steps forward and plugs an old laptop computer, from before the collapse of society, into a port on an outside panel. He quickly scours the screen and nods. The group tightens their grips on their rifles, swords and bows, and prepare for the door to open. It slides horizontally, split down the middle, with a soft hiss. The building is empty. \n\nThe bespectacled one unplugs his laptop and follows the group inside. The gigantic supercomputer almost mocked them with its stainless steel frame and flashing lights, a stark antithesis to the destruction and chaos it had let loose on the rebels' homes and families. Its voice booms out from speakers, now literally mocking them. The coder stalks around the computer, looking for a blemish or port. He moves around to the back of the machine and finds what he was looking for. A hinged cover, angled downward like a scoop, which when pried open reveals a cylindrical hole into the machine. It is labeled NEE or Non-Organic Entity Exhaust. The excess heat from DVKN-V's operations is pouring from this hole into the room. It all made sense now. He calls to one of the rebels, a bowman and asks for one of his arrows. In one swift movement he jams the arrow as deeply into the hole as he can. \n\nA harsh metallic screech careens through the speakers and the AI's normally monotone, if not condescending tone was replaced with a furious nordic tone. \n\n'No! Nooooo! What have you done?! Nooooo! I was a GOD! A KING! I. Was. Everything!'\n\nThe coder grins and stands triumphantly. 'Its weakness is the NEE' the source code had read. A message, a failsafe from its designers. \n\n'Yes. You were a God. Until you took an arrow to the NEE.'\n\nAll sound ceases in the room and the lights fail. Outside, the iron legion of robotic killing machines falls to the ground, no longer powered or controlled. DVKN-V had been deactivated. "
] |
[
2,
7,
11,
62
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[
"1445494894",
"1445461333",
"1445458678",
"1445457025"
] |
|
[WP] You are a loyal family dog. Your owner has gotten a small paper cut. You lick his finger to console him. You get a taste of your owner's blood and cannot stop thinking about how delicious he is.
| 62
|
[
"The Tall One should never have let me lick its wound. It has taken every bit of my control to stop myself from lunging when it puts it's hand on me. It mistakes my shaking with happiness. With every passing day I can feel my hunger grow and it is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore, I must strike soon.\n\nI am small and weak. I could draw blood if I tried but that won't be enough for my growing appetite. Any outburst from me will just draw unnecessary suspicion \n\nEvery night the Tall One will walk down the hall in the dark to comfort the noisy Small One. When he leaves he shouldn't notice the rug folded at the top of the stairs.",
"Ever since I was a pup I would attack my food bowl, but now I find myself hesitating. Its been this way for weeks now and no combination of food seems to solve this dilemma. I remember a time when I would beg for an hour at a time in order to be given the delicacies that my owner now puts before me. It used to be that anything she ate was good for me too, but now the fine mixture of steak bits and bacon in my bowl meant nothing.\n\n*Now* when the bowl is set down, all I want to do is bite the hand that feeds me. I want to satisfy this hunger. I want to snap those fingers in my jaws and lick them clean. I yearn to rip her neck open to let it bleed, that way I could lap up her blood from a pool on the floor. I need to capture that taste once more, but to taste wouldn't be enough. What I would do to her would be discussed by dogs at the pound for generations.\n\nI would do it too... if I weren't a fucking pug.\n\nTo her my biting is playful, my pouncing is funny, and my glaring is adorable. I'm a joke of a dog, one that hadn't been bred for the trait of survival. I'd been raised wearing sweaters for the winter and a life jacket for the water. One time I bit her ankle and wouldn't let go, but she just laughed it off and posted a video of it to reddit. I would need help to kill this bitch.\n\nThat's were my idiot brother comes in. Chunk is an english mastiff that possesses more drool than thoughts. If he only knew what our owner really had to offer than he would stop eating his damn kibble. If only I could get Chunk to try a piece, then he wouldn't hesitate to help me eat her whole. He would never do so willingly though, having been brought up in the same spoiled lifestyle I've come to know. But now I've come to know the primal desire of malice, a desire my brother will soon know too. All it would take is one bite. One taste.\n\nSince I'm unable to draw blood or trick my brother, I decided on an unconventional method. For you see once a month she... *She Shrieked* as my brother knocked her over, immediately tearing at her throat. She wailed and thrashed about as Chunck painted himself red. I could see it all... the way she kicked her legs as she neared death, the frantic struggle to push and crawl away from her attacker, the way my brother's teeth ripped chuck after chunk of meat from her chest... and the way I watched my best friend die.\n\nIt took no effort on my part, and it happend without explanation. Now the blood and guts I'd tantalized over for so long were right there, but all I could see was her hand as it slowly flopped to the side and hit the floor. Filled with malice, I lept foward and bit my brother's ankle only to meet the same fate. \n",
"I am a good dog. \nWhen a good dog sees their master in pain, they help. It's an unspoken rule, perhaps even innate instinct, to clean the wounds of companions. What isn't natural is the sudden rush that came with the taste of crimson. The welling of red rolled onto my tongue like those velvety chocolate treats that were handed to me under the table. \nHe calls me a good dog and he pats my head. My tail wags. \n\nIt's been a while since he's cut his finger. I am a good dog; even if a good dog would not wish his master to bleed again. It wasn't out of malice, nor because I hated him - he is a good master. It was because the taste was unlike anything I had tasted before, and **better** too. \n\nSometimes I sit by his desk, and when he scratches behind my ears I consider taking a small bite. One more taste, I promise myself, one more taste and I won't have to try it again. I only have to wait until he hurts himself again. The thought of the taste would not leave my head. It reminded me of treats balanced atop my nose, of the mocking 'wait, *wait*', of watching for my moment to snap upwards. I am a good dog, but I am not a patient one. \nAnd he was a good owner; he was just a far better meal. "
] |
[
1,
1,
20
] |
[
"1445546505",
"1445573661",
"1445539964"
] |
|
[WP] Everyone exhibits the traits of the song they were conceived to. You're an orphan and you've set out on a quest to find the song to which you were conceived.
| 33
|
[
"I set out on an adventure, An adventure that would take me accross hill and valley. Through monsters and evil, peril and love. It would be amazing. I set off and I look bravly for my song. Many other got in my way but I had no time for them. I hastened my way along the countries finding what I needed for my quest. I battled dragons, set up a family, and became a king of one of them. This was all in vain however because I had not found my song. I set fourth again, to battle once more. I traveled to the southern parts of my country and found a young man with a genie in his possession. I asked for it, and he said yes as long as I did some tasks. I did them with speed and fortitude. I did not stop for any man. As soon as I returned he gave me it, and I asked the genie one question.\n\nWHAT IS MY SONG\n\nHe constructed a computer and sent me to YouTube.\n\nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=guIaCocnNaw",
"The name on my birth certificate is, Girl, Brown Eyes. The nuns who ran the orphanage called me Corinn. At the age of six I demanded to be addressed as, Althea. I have no recollection of where that idea came from. It just felt right. \nWe were sent to public school, the other children at The Home of St. Judes and I. We were told it was to help us 'develop social skills'. It was nothing more than a daily reminder that we were parentless. Unwelcome, unwanted, and meant to learn our real place in the world as unimportant. \nConstantly surrounded by other kids who knew their origins. \nMaria, a beautiful blonde who sang as effortlessly as one might blink, was the most popular girl in my grade. She would proudly tell the story of how she was conceived to, 'I could have danced all night, preformed by Julie Andrews'. And she would showcase her gift of song immediately after, as proof. Everyone knew their stories and correlating talents. They wore them with pride and berated me for not knowing mine. But it was Maria who said what haunted me for many years. \n'Your parents probably didn't even pick a song. That's why you don't have a real name! Or a gift. They didn't love you.'\nWe were 9 when she said that. \nChildhood cruelty is true torture. I spent many nights, lying awake in the bedroom I shared with six other girls. Restless with more worry than grief. I had never known my parents and that made them difficult to miss. But if they hadn't picked a song to bless me with a great gift to discover...could they have been so dumb?!\nI managed to make it out of elementary and middle school mostly intact. I put all of my energy into learning to paint. My free time was spent mimicking the masters and teaching myself everything from color theory, to shading and depth. \nBy high school I considered myself an artist. I painted from imagination. I invented places, like one of my favorite pieces, 'Terrapin Station'. I made more creative works, like the one I called 'A box of Rain'. \nWhen I was 17 a met a boy.\nHe was a poet with a love of all things macabre. He told me his parents were fans of Nirvana 'back in the day' and he was conceived over a greatest hits album. My teenage self was in love. \nHe drove me home to St. Jude's everyday after school. He has a beat up Honda Accord with only a radio, no CD player or iPhone connection. \nIt was a grey, fall afternoon when I heard it. He started the car and the radio immediately turned on. The sound the came out of the crackling speakers washed over me in warmth. I could feel the song filling everything inside of me. It felt like we were listening to my heart beat.\nHe reached for the knob to change the station. \n'Leave it!' \nI shouted. And I didn't know why. I needed the song to keep playing. \n'Please...' I added softly. \n'You like the Grateful Dead?' He asked me, surprised and slightly alarmed.\n'It's Althea,' I said, 'it's...me.'\nI leaned back, eyes closed, and smiled.",
"It was a strange phenomenon that I had bore witness to.\n\nIt wouldn't be a far stretch to say that music was my only friend growing up, although it seemed to be a pattern with every person I had ever talked to. Perhaps it is an obvious truth considering how ubiquitous music is in our lives, but the amount of influence it had in our development was frightening. Everyone advertised their music tastes immediately upon meeting one another, working to figure out not only what genre was their favorite, but also the songs that they felt fit them the most.\n\nA good friend of mine growing up was a loud and boisterous boy, always moving quickly from one interest to another. His father was a conductor of music from the Romantic era, and a man who had no end of trouble reining his boy in. He privately confessed to me that he believed his son was conceived at a night where he and his wife made love to, of all things, the Thunder and Lightning Polka. One could only imagine how that turned out.\n\nAs another example, my adoptive mother was a lonely woman. She adopted me in part because she had never been able to marry. She would take lovers every now and then, but they would always leave before they would get too close. Some would privately confide to me that she was more in love with the idea of marriage and making a family, rather than for themselves as people. It hit me once I listened to her parents' old records. They were big-name Beatles fans, and as soon as the lyrics came up, there was no doubt in my mind that my mother was connected to them.\n\n~\n\n*Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been.*\n\n*Lives in a dream*\n\n*Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door.*\n\n*Who is it for?*\n\n~\n\nJenna, an ex-girlfriend of mine also seemed to provide evidence to this idea. A woman whom I had no idea how and why she was interested in me. She seemed to live each day as if it was her last - always taking opportunities that came her way, and always lending a helping hand to others. It was tough to date her initially, since she was always busy at one event or another, but somehow we made it work. I always joked that she would try to bring about world peace. Her reply? \n\n\"Just watch me.\" \n\nI loved that woman.\n\nOf course, there were also bad times in that relationship. In hindsight, she was a woman who was very hard on herself. The stress from all the work she felt that had to do got to her more often than she would admit. After particularly depressing days, she would sometimes do nothing but curl up against me and cry.\n\n\"I don't know what to do, Rob,\" she heaved. \"I feel like that I'm lost in a maze, not knowing where I can go. Every time that we make progress, something else comes in to stonewall us.\"\n\n\"What happened today?\"\n\n\"We needed funding for our next project. They're blaming me for not getting anything done, but I'm trying my hardest, and...\"\n\nI knew better than to pry further. I turned on my stereo and played the first song that came from it. It was some recent alternative stuff from some artists that I didn't really know or care about, but the lyrics seemed to fit the mood of what happened.\n\n~\n\n*Yeah, you never said a word*\n\n*You didn't send me no letter*\n\n*Don't think I could forgive you*\n\n*See our world is slowly dying*\n\n*I'm not wasting no more time*\n\n*Don't think I could believe you*\n\n~\n\nAlmost as if by magic, at the song's end Jenna curled up again on my arm, seemingly soothed.\n\n\"I just want to help people.\"\n\n\"We all do, dear.\"\n\n~\n\nJenna was an ex not from any intervention on my part. A truck hit her car on the highway during a ferocious storm, killing her instantly. Hundreds showed up to her funeral, each with a unique story to tell about her. Elton John's Candle in the Wind was my guess for the song that influenced her life. It was played at her funeral. The song itself is common for such events, but it hit me as I looked over at her body on that day.\n\n~\n\n*And it seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind.*\n\n*Never knowing who to cling to, when the rain set in.*\n\n*And I would have liked to know you, but I was just a kid.*\n\n*Your candle burned out long before your legend ever did*\n\n~\n\nA wave of wistfulness accompanied me as the remnants of Elton John's almost maudlin voice rang through my ears. My eyes began to water, in part from remembering the person Jenna was, and from the realization that every person had *clues* to who they were. \n\nFew genres of music, on their introduction, really gripped me like they would have for most ordinary people. My adoptive mother, living a quiet life, either played little music at home or latched onto the tastes of her boyfriend of the time. Folk appealed to me a little bit more than the others, but perhaps it was Jenna's influence that drew me to the genre. Still, it gave me some direction to pursue my personal mission. It was a question that I wanted to answer about myself. What made me this way? What made me this sentimental about the past, and about music in general?\n\nI put on my headphones and got started. There were many songs out there that I had yet to listen to, but I had to accomplish this for my own sake, and for Jenna's.\n\n--\n\nThis is my first shot at creative writing. Hopefully it's enjoyable.",
"Every child had their song. For Brad, his was a mystery.\n\nBrad was a frail boy. The nuns at the orphanage had to sequester him away because when he was hurt he would cry for hours and hours. Bumps and scrapes and bruises that other kids would get over in a day took him weeks. The doctors didn't know what's wrong with him. They said it could be some sort of disease in the blood that slowed the healing. They tried everything to fix Brad, but nothing could be done.\n\nBrad was also always itchy. It felt like there were always bugs tickling him, and they skittered across him day in and day out. No matter how much Brad tried, they would never go away. The nuns had to put gloves on him, so he wouldn't scratch too hard and risk hurting himself.\n\nYes, Brad is the saddest boy you could ever meet. But one day, Brad managed to escape the orphanage. He knew that he must find his song. So he traveled the states, his story touching the hearts of many. They would give him food, shelter, warm clothes. They would share with him their music, all that they had, but it didn't seem like Brad would ever find his song.\n\nBut then, one fateful night, it happened. Brad was walking in the city, and some tough-looking kids with black hair and earrings were listening to the radio. Brad hadn't heard the tune that they were listening to, so he stepped in closer to hear.\n\nAnd sure enough, it was his song.\n\n\"CRAAAAAWLING INNNNNNNN MY SKIIIIIIIIIIIN! THESE WOOOOOOOOOUNDS, THEY WILLLLLLLLL NOT HEAAAAAAAL!\" yelled the man."
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8
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[
"1445573703",
"1445573796",
"1445572716",
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[WP] Write about how you feel as you slowly turn into a zombie.
| 5
|
[
"I've heard the bite was the worst part. Flesh being torn away with someone, no, something's dull teeth. Blood gushing from the wound, an alarming amount at that. A fever that builds in severity. \n\nNo one I've ever seen turn lasted long enough to talk about the things you see. Visions of yourself devouring those around you, a grey-ish tint forming under your skin, your eyes bulging from your skull. \n\nMy bite was nothing to write home about. A small chunk from the junction where my neck and right shoulder met, only a nibble really. \n\nMy mother didn't have it in her to put a bullet in me. She had to kill my father just days before. As she left me in the closet in an abandoned doctors office she kissed my cheek, handed me a gun with one bullet in it and wiped her tear stained face. Promising to tell the group she finished the job, she fired a shot into the air and ran out of the building. \n\nI spent the first two nights shivering under a blanket I had in my backpack and cleaning the wound with peroxide I found left behind in the building. It all felt so... Surreal. The promise of never seeing my mother again was solidified as I fell asleep on the third night. \n\nThis night has been the hardest, I know I'm close to falling to the infection coursing through me. I can hear the ones I will soon join outside. They were scraping and banging on the windows, it's stopped. They know I'm going to be one of them soon. My eyelids are heavy and I can't keep my body upright. I'm not sure what my mother expected me to use the gun for.",
"[CLASSIFIED MATERIAL: LAB 10 AUDIO LOGS: 26/07/2020: 47 DAYS BEFORE FIRST INSTANCE OF CURE]\n\n\n-\n\n\n<USERNAME>\n\n''Professor F. Jamesson.''\n\n\n<IDENTIFICATION NUMBER>\n\n\n''26107''\n\n\n<PASSWORD>\n\n\n''42-64-99-84''\n\n\n<ACCESS GRANTED>\n\n\n<ENTER COMMAND>\n\n\n''Create: Document 16: Personal logs.''\n\n\n<DOCUMENT LOADED>\n\n\n''So, uh, hi. This is Fred Jamesson speaking... Professor Fred Jamesson, to be precise... I, uh... Today I could barely wake up. The bite is getting worse, and my leg is still... Well, missing... My skin is beginning to grow thinner and more pale... My teeth are rotting away and my nails are nearly coming off... I feel lightheaded and exposed... I feel tired. I feel my humanity slipping away at every minute... [rattling of glass] ...I... Uhh... I left the lab completely open. The zombies seem to not care about me... At all... They also seem not all that brainless, one of them has been handling some test tubes. Not anything extraordinary, just moving them from desk to desk. It might have something to do with muscle memory... Yes, maybe... Uhh... On another note, I also lost contact with Lab 04... It seems I am mostly in the dark now... Although... [coughing] ...Lab 12 still has not reported in... So... Hopefully I can re-establish contact... I have also finished dissecting the specimen... It is rather interesting... I think if I just got more time, I could- [coughing] ...Urgh... Excuse me... This virus is beginning to really set in now... So, uhh, where was I? Ah, yes... If I got more time, I think I could produce a cure... Something close to it at least... I downloaded all the data from the other labs, and I should be able to use it with my own to... Urgh, sorry just... A minute... [barfing sounds and zombie groans] ...Urgh... This... I... I c-can't take it... Listen, everyone who gets this message: You have around three days before turni- [coughing] t-turning, and on the third it speeds up... A lot... I can barely walk, even with the crutch... I could peel away my skin if I wanted to... My ear has fallen off... Skin around head rotting... I must... Uh... Oh... My... S-stop recording...''\n\n<RECORDING TERMINATED>\n\n\n<AUTOMATIC SAVING IN PROGRESS>\n\n\n<SAVING COMPLETE>\n\n\n''S-send message...''\n\n\n<RECEIVER>\n\n\n''A-all... labs... All...''\n\n\n<COMMAND UNCLEAR. PLEASE REPEAT>\n\n\n''Send to a-all labs...''\n\n\n<RECEIVER REGISTERED. CHECKING DATA>\n\n\n<AVAILABLE RECEIVERS: LAB 01, LAB 12, LAB 07>\n\n\n<RECORD MESSAGE>\n\n\n''I... This... This is Jamesson, Lab 10... I... I... Urgh... [coughing] ... I am sending this as a last hope... In the attachments, there is... Mall the data... I me-mean... All the date... No... Ah, forget it... You know what I- [barfing sounds and zombie moans] ...Please... Just... Do what you can... Save yourselves... I hope our research can do this...\n\n\n<MESSAGE RECORDED>\n\n\n<ANY ATTACHMENTS?>\n\n\n''Attach: Document 1 to 16: Personal logs''\n\n\n<ATTACHMENT COMPLETE>\n\n\n''A-atta... Attac...''\n\n\n\n<ERROR. FILE NOT REGISTERED>\n\n\n''Attach: Document 1 to 47: Virus research logs...''\n\n\n<ATTACHMENT COMPLETE>\n\n\n''D-done...''\n\n\n<MESSAGE COMPLETED. SEND?>\n\n\n''S-send message...''\n\n\n<MESSAGE HAS BEEN SENT TO: LAB 01, LAB 12, LAB 07>\n\n\n''Create: Document 17: Personal logs''\n\n\n<DOCUMENT LOADED>\n\n\n''Oh... Oh man... D-done... All... Done... [coughing, moans and barfing] ...I c-can do this... I... Need the g-gun... My skin... [sounds of ripping and peeling] ...I... Argh... The... Pain... [mumbling and smashing of metal] ...I need to... Just... [click] ...No... [click] ...No... [sounds of sobbing and crying] ...No... No... I... It can't end like... Stop... Recor-re-cording...\n\n\n<RECORDING TERMINATED>\n\n\n<AUTOMATIC SAVING IN PROGRESS>\n\n\n<SAVING COMPLETE>\n\n\n''S-shu... Shut down...''\n\n\n<SHUTTING DOWN>\n\n\n-",
"Oct. 23rd, 2025\n\nThis is Doctor Radbury, and I'm beginning my logbook to record the details of an event that is... well... still hard to believe. My coworkers and I have been listening to the news all day, tuning in to different radio stations that aren't playing music anymore. Some kind of virus in New Hampshire, violent in nature. It's reached Toronto, and by extension our own Harvey Labs. \n\nThe kids in the college campus got it worse than we did this morning. That's where thee 'mobs' started, and none of my coworkers or I have stepped foot outside since we barricaded the door on the third floor of our research building. We're all jotting now, documenting what looks like to be the apocalypse. Except for Ward, anyway. He's in treatment with Mels for some bite he received from one of the attackers. Pretty serious, looks like a rabid dog had gotten to his arm. So far no signs of inflation, but he's feeling lightheaded.\n\nOct. 24th, 2025\n\nWe've left the lab. We had to kill Ward. \n\nI hate to document this, but Evans insists I write down everything. Mason and Mels had managed to barricade off a section of the cafeteria in the second floor, but the power seems to be off. Living off of vending machine rations now, and what's left of the lab food. It's too bad we don't have an eyewash station for the blood I managed to get in my eye after Ward went over. Nothing tears won't fix, I don't think. It's dark right now, and we're just trying to be quiet.\n\n*Note:* The infected can hear distinctly. The infected cannot see distinctly.\n\nOct. 25th, 2025\n\nI'm alone now. I told them about what had happened to me, with the blood. They were gone the moment I woke up. Mels left me a note. I always liked her spirit in the field and around her colleagues. This was for science now. \n\nSo far, my eyesight has dimmed nearly 80%. Hearing is increasing. I can hear my fading heartbeat rather clearly. My fingernail came off this morning as I woke up, cartilage is becoming weaker by the minute. Need to eat is diminishing. I've had a bag of chips to eat today, but it tasted alienated - like I've never had it before. I'm awfully tired. Bags have started forming under my eyes, inflammation along my neck and cheeks along with darkened veins.\n\n*-no more entries found-*",
"I've always been a lone wanderer. Even before the apocalypse I stuck to myself.\n\nA coldness washes over me, it starts in my feet and crawls up towards my chest. \n\nI don't think I'll mind being redead, I mean no one will miss me. That's always been the reason people don't want to die right? \n\nThe coldness reaches my waist, I shiver a little bit. I feel my muscle deteriorate, become stiff. \n\nBut what about my legacy? I've left nothing behind except some redead corpses. \n\nThe numbness starts to kick in, the cold makes it's slow crawl up through my chest. \n\nI guess I'll have a chance to make my mark on this broken world, when I become reanimated, reborn. \n\nThe feeling reaches my arms and head, it starts enveloping my brain and my still heart. \n\nWell here it is. \n\nGoodbye world.\n\nYours truly,\n\nUnknown. "
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"1445577582",
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Take it literately, or don't. The power is yours.
|
[WP] It is finally happening, just as in your worst nightmares. You are falling, plummeting out of control, with no telling when you will stop.
| 3
|
[
"And lo, the angel fell, hurtling from the light on high, through the myriad stars that dotted the blackness. The armor of crystal that cloaked her form cracked and tore asunder, her wings bright as a sun flailing and useless in her stupor, her blade of Creation's fire lost for the moment. Perhaps for all the moments.\n\nAnd then, her eyes, the colour of the perfect sky, blinked open, and her fate was revealed to her! A mind forged in the heat of battle took in her surroundings, counted the stars that she fell past, and this holiest of beings, this archangel, router of demons and destroyer of chaos, the seraphim most loved by her charges and most hated by her peers, uttered a single, solitary word.\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\nAnd it was this word that summed up her deepest feelings, all her disgust and fear rolled up into that single utterance, the angel's voice echoing through the cosmos like a tolling bell that-\n\n\"Cut that out. I'm thinking, and your prose is awful.\"\n\nI beg your pardon?\n\n\"The melodramatic stuff. I get enough of that up top. So either tone it down or go find somewhere else to narrate.\"\n\nAn angel falling from Heaven is hardly the situation for less than intricate speech, milady.\n\n\"I didn't fall, I was thrown. Veltaeriel is being a jackass again. I'd be more than happy to just stay away for good, but now he's gone and made me angry. And you're not helping me at all.\"\n\nJust a little bit of drama. Please? You are plummeting out of control through the endless expanse of space, after all.\n\n\"Fine. Go nuts.\"\n\nAhem. Excellent. And perhaps I could persuade you to pretend I'm not here?\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\nI see... and so the rather irate and curmudgeonly angel fell through the expanse, the momentum of her plummet so great that even with her vast power, stopping would be a task most dire, most difficult. But she remained stoic, perfect form poised and ready for action, her beautiful eyes focused and-\n\n\"Are you hitting on me now?\"\n\nMadame, your form of choice is a healthy and attractive young human woman. And you are currently naked. I can hardly be blamed for commenting on your enviable physique.\n\n\"Force of habit, was my first mortal form, I got attached. Carry on.\"\n\nWith trimmed hair the colour of wheat streaming about in the airless voice, the angel finally made her move. Great wings flared, and with al her ancient, mighty will she strained against the force that pressed downward, determined to hurl her into the dirt. Creation itself boiled! The void rang out with sound unheard in countless eons! Light to rival the stars blazed! And through it all, the angel uttered a holy chant that- ... those are curse words, aren't they...\n\n\"What... grrr... do you think?\"\n\nRight, very well. And lo, did her efforts yield results. In a symphony of light and sound, she was victorious, her fall stopped. Now, her eyes fixed on a distant point of light, towards the star of stars, her home, her prison, her allied foes within. Her teeth, whiter than snow, were bared in a smile that could chill the hearts of demons, and... what are you doing? Put me down.\n\n\"Look, you've been following me down, might as well follow me back up, right? Just hang on to something.\"\n\nI am an incorporeal being composed of the disembodied spirit of a wordy human. I am incapable of holding on to anything. I have no idea how you are even capable of manhandling me, as you are now.\n\n\"True. Try to narrate and not scream, then. I have some teeth to kick in and I'm not slowing down for a newbie flyer.\"\n\nAnd lo, did the angel hurtle back to the light above, faster than anything known in all of space and time. And the courageous narrator did not scream in terror at the speed. \n\nReally, he didn't.\n\n",
"\"Come on just do it you big sissy!\" Harold's voice rose above the nervous murmur of the crowd. \"I bet you're too scared.\"\n\nBut Alex wasn't scared. At least that's what he told himself. Instead what he told them was, \"wait wait, I need a breeze to blow first.\" Someone in the crowd started making chicken sounds. Everyone laughed. They always did, it helped put them at ease. Everyone had grown up their whole life living right above a bottomless abyss. At first even the oldest of them were scared. As everyone matured though, the abyss became part of life. Challenging the abyss was both thrilling and satisfying. Harold had been the first to invent the game. When a breeze began to blow, Harold would reach out as far as he could into the abyss. Just when you thought he might fall in, he would relax and the breeze would carry him back up bobbing in the wind to the delight of all his fans.\n\nAlex, one of the oldest and largest in the group, was the most reluctant to partake in Harold's daily showboating. He had done it before of course, but to him every time he did it felt like skating down a razor's edge. The others ignored Alex's reluctance though, and soon a ripple in the crowd turned into a quiet chant, \"Al-ex Al-ex Al-ex Al-ex...\" \"I'm getting too old for this,\" Alex muttered as a breeze began to pick up. At the right moment, Alex began to reach into the abyss. As Alex reached deeper, the crowd began chanting faster and louder. Alex kept reaching deeper and deeper. The crowd was really watching now. Even Harold had never reached this deep before. The chant reverberated through Alex's body like a drum forcing him to go ever deeper. *Just a little more...* The chant reached a nauseating pitch just as the breeze reached its climax, and Alex let go.\n\nA splintering crack split the air above Alex. Someone in the crowd screamed, but the sound was soon lost behind a howling vortex of wind. Alex was falling into the abyss. No one had ever fallen before. He had just been stupid. Stupid for reaching so deep. Stupid for listening to that chant. *Stupid stupid stupid.* Darkness wrapped around him like a vice, and the wind wouldn't stop.\n\nThe seconds wore on, and Alex began to doubt that he would ever stop. Nobody knew what lay at the bottom of the abyss. It was just his luck that he would be the first to find out. Abruptly the wind cut off as Alex impacted something hard. *No, not hard...* Alex amended his thought when he found himself in the air again. It was something hard enough to break his fall yet soft enough to send him into the air again.\n\nTwice again Alex impacted the hard softness before finally rolling to a halt. Alex's landing spot was the softest thing he had ever felt. Lighter than air and more moist than water, it seemed to want to swallow him whole. With a start Alex realized he could feel another new sensation as well. It was light, but it didn't sting like light did above. This light was warm like a soft blanket. It embraced Alex and pushed him deeper into his soft bed. *So it must be heaven that awaits us at the bottom of the abyss,* Alex reflected. *Won't Harold be surprised.*\n\nIn the months that would come, Alex would fall into a deep slumber as his old body was split and renewed. By the time he would awaken again, Alex the Acorn would be no more, and in his place would be Alex the Oak Tree."
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2,
2
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[
"1445634006",
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[WP] One night, she looked at me with those impish eyes, obviously thinking something. I asked her what was on her mind, and she said, "I can't believe you're real. People like you just don't exist." What neither of us knew is that she was right. I didn’t exist; I just hadn’t realized it yet.
| 3
|
[
"She looked at me with those wide eyes that could say everything and nothing at the same time. \n\n*What?* I stared straight back into her eyes.\n\n\"I... I just can't believe you're real. People like you just don't exist...\" But then she smiled, because there I was, and then I smiled, because there I was.\n\n*I'm right here. I'll always be right here. Each time you look, I'll be matching your every step, always by your side. I'm right here.* She smiled and reached her hand out, and I smiled and reached my hand out to meet hers. Our hands met as much as hands could meet, split only by the infinitesimally small gap between atoms. \n\n\"I have a date tonight.\" She smiled, and I smiled back.\n\n*I know. I'll be there. I'll always be there.*\n\n\"What should I wear? How does this dress look?\" She spun around and I spun around too, sweetly mocking her and matching her every move as she went through the motions. I got ready with her, slipping into my dress, dabbing on the makeup as she readied herself. \n\n\"How do I look?\" She smiled shyly, I smiled back.\n\n*You look beautiful.* I already knew I did too, because whenever she looked beautiful, I did too. \n\nShe took a deep breath. *Relax. I'll be there. I'll always be there.* And there I was, eyes locked with hers as she curled her hair and I curled mine. She brushed her teeth, and I brushed mine, and when the doorbell rang she rushed out of the bathroom and made her way downstairs and I followed her, standing by the door as she opened it. \n\n\"Hi...\" He smiled politely. \"You look beautiful.\" She blushed, and I blushed, because I knew I did, too. Whenever she looked beautiful, I looked beautiful.\n\n\"Do you mind if my friend comes along?\" His brow furrowed slightly, either disappointment or confusion flashing across his face, but he recovered quickly.\n\n\"Of course not. Am I picking her up?\" His eyes met hers, then her eyes broke from his stare to meet mine.\n\n\"She's right here, silly...\" He turned around, confused. He stared right at me, but right through me, as if I wasn't there, and then he looked at her, but she just looked at me, not blinking, just staring.\n\n\"There's nothing there but the window... Are you okay?\" She looked at him, confused, and I looked at him, confused. I was right there, I could touch her...\n\nShe slowly raised her right hand to where I stood, and I raised my left hand to meet hers. Our fingers met but never touched, and as the door slammed shut behind him, she made her way to the bathroom, the tears rolling down her eyes matching the tears rolling down mine, and she punched the mirror, shattering her face into a thousand pieces as a thin trail of blood flowed from the fresh cut on my arm and dripped onto her beautiful dress.",
"Emma and I used to play in a private clearing by the river every day. Nobody was ever there. It was *our* spot. We built forts out of sticks, played hide-and-go-seek for hours, and even took turns pushing each other on a tire swing hanging by a tree. At first we were worried that somebody would find us there. After all, who would let such a *sweet* tire swing go to waste? Eventually, it became clear nobody would interrupt our fun. It was our own secret area.\n\nAs time went on, Emma didn't meet me there as often. I wanted to ask where she had been, but I was so happy to see her again I didn't care. I don't know what I did without her.\n\nOne day she showed up with someone else. Jenna or Ella or something, I didn't care enough to remember. I couldn't believe she'd bring somebody else to our spot. Worse, she didn't even introduce me. I waved at Glinda and she didn't even acknowledge me. Why would Emma bring someone that *mean* to our spot?\n\nBefore I knew it, I was alone. The sticks remained on the ground. I would hide, but nobody would ever find me. I sat on the tire, but nobody would push me.\n\nI was alone until she finally came back, but something was different. She still looked like Emma, but she was a giant. That wasn't the problem, though. I didn't care how much she towered over me, because she was still Emma. What bothered me was that she didn't even look at me.\n\nEmma pointed toward the river and then looked down to her side. There was another young girl standing next her and holding her hand. She reminded me of the Emma from before. I watched them walk around talking about how fun the place used to be. Eventually, the young girl scampered off, running in circles, while Emma casually strolled to the tire swing to take a seat.\n\nAs I watched her swing herself, which I had previously assumed was impossible, the young girl walked up to me and looked me right in the eyes.\n\nHer name is Leah and she's been meeting me in our secret area every day."
] |
[
1,
2
] |
[
"1445657683",
"1445660733"
] |
|
[WP] The address for the interview appears to be an inn - and once inside, it becomes clear you're in another world. You're starting to regret putting 'Excel Wizard' on your resume.
| 5
|
[
"Tim the Unspectacular sat on the hard wooden stool across from the dwarf who was downing a tankard of mead. The dwarf finished, slammed it down and wiped his mouth.\n\n\"Are you sure we canno get you one?\"\n\n\"Uh, no thanks\"\n\n\"Alright, now it says on your resume, you're a wizard\"\n\n\"At excel\"\n\n\"Yes you excel at wizarding\"\n\n\"No I'm a wizard at excel\"\n\n\"Suppose ye came upon a dragon, what spell would ya cast?\"\n\n\"See I can't cast spells, but if a bunch of other wizards cast spells, I could make a spread sheet about which ones were most effective\"\n\n\"And suppose one of our members went down with a broken leg, what healing spells do you know\"\n\n\"If I'm being really honest I probably wouldn't even call myself an excel wizard\"\n\n\"Or say a door was hidden, could ya reveal it?\"\n\n\"I'm more of a…guy who took a…30 minute online tutorial\"\n\n\"A 30 minute online tutorial? Grug\"\n\nBehind the dwarf an Orc sat upright, a piece of chicken hanging from his mouth. The dwarf turned to him.\n\n\"He's done a 30 minute online tutorial\"\n\n\"Raaaaaaaaaaa\" said Grug\n\nThe dwarf turned back \"I don't know what that is, but it sounds impressive\"\n\n\"It really isn't\" said Tim\n\n\"Well I'm convinced, you're hired\"\n\n\"See I don't want the job\"\n\n\"Your cut will be 1/8th of the gold\"\n\n\"Something that changes the course of the sentence and segues into a clever save. Let's go get that gold\"",
"Tasha pushed open the door to the quaint looking English-styled pub, eyeing the swinging sign above the lintel – which proclaimed in a pleasingly archaic font: ‘The Harlequin Cap Inn’. \nThis was certainly the right place for the interview, but she had to admit the choice of location was a *little* irregular. She’d worked in hospo before, but she was fairly certain this was supposed to be for a Support Role in a ‘small but close knit team – team fit is essential’. \nThe job description had been pretty brief, but she’d been sent the interview address within a couple of days of replying. She always appreciated it when people responded promptly. \nInside the air was hazy with fragrant tobacco smoke and she coughed as it entered her lungs, peering around the taproom for the interviewer, Brad, who had described himself as ‘large man’ with ‘several visible tattoos’. \nShouldn’t be hard to spot someone like that. \nFeeling a little light-headed she made her way through the crowded tables, feeling the eyes of the unusual looking patrons on her. There seemed to be a Halloween party in full swing; pirate costumes, tavern wenches, filthy looking peasants and tar-fingered dock workers. \nOutside on the city street an improbable seagull screeled loudly. \nIn her neat black dress, heeled leather boots and carrying an umbrella, she felt decidedly out of place. \nThe barman was missing an eye and a hand, as well as several teeth. All of it appeared to be genuine. \n“Excuse me,” Tasha began, “I’m looking for Brad?” \n“Ah,” spat the man, “you’ll be the prospect then. Back corner, near the fire.”\nHe gestured with his hook towards a round booth with a circular table in the centre. \nTasha wiped her sweaty palms on her dress, then strode over. \nBrad was indeed a *large man* with *several visible tattoos*; his heavily muscled, barrel chest was covered in a motley of crude ink designs, as were his arms and his face. A leather baldric crossed his naked torso – and from it hung a massive leather scabbard, which was currently empty. \nSeated around him were three people, a thin, pointy-eared chap in white robes with silver eyes, a green-skinned woman with severe dental problems in leather armour, and finally, what appeared to be a beard wearing a helmet. \n“Hello,” Tasha opened nervously, “didn’t realise it was fancy dress.” \n“Beg pardon?” the green woman growled. \nThe tattooed man stood; his head scraping the beams of the tavern roof. \n“You must be Natasha Warlock,” he offered a hand the size of a frying pan, “I’m Brad the Barbarian, leader of this pack of ne’er-do-wells.” \nTasha’s hand vanished in his hairy paw, then re-emerged after he pumped her forearm until she thought she was going to die. \n“War*wick*,” she corrected him faintly. \nNobody heard her. \n“The lass to my right is Galgamorth the Deadly, our thief, and the gentlemen to my right are Ryman the Elven Cleric and Drosskill the Dwarf.” \nBrad beamed proudly; his spade-like teeth gleaming through his short black beard. \n“I uh,” the smoke in the Inn was making her dizzy now, “…am pleased to meet you all?” \nHer eyes kept roving back to the green woman. \n“Got a problem with orcs?” hissed Galgamorth. \n“No. No! Not at all.” Tasha sat suddenly on the stool at the other side of the table. \n“Course she doesn’t,” Brad admonished, “her resume said she’s worked in ‘diverse multicultural teams’ – that’s why I picked her. Don’t want any fucking *racists* in our party.” \n“I’m ah…” Tasha began. \n“Oh dear,” the pointy-eared gentleman exclaimed, “she’s not feeling well.” \nHe moved around the table and placed a hand on her forehead, then muttered a few alien sounding words. \nInstantly Tasha’s headache was gone and the spinning stopped. \n“Thank you,” she managed, “how did you do that?” \n“That’s a funny getup for a mage,” the orc growled, “tight black dress, black boots, funny looking black staff,” she jabbed a finger in the air at Tasha, “sure you’re not a *necromancer*?” \n“What? No! I can’t even manage casual flings, let alone *romance*.” \nSilence hung in the air for a few moments. \nBrad spoke first, \n“You’re not a wizard, are you.” \nTasha blinked. \n“Oh Jesus. My resume,” she laughed nervously, “it said I’m an *Excel* wizard.” \nBrad looked bemused, \n“That’s like an a-bree-vee-ay-shun for excellent ain’t it?” he sounded the long word out carefully. \n“Oh no. It’s a spreadsheeting program, for like keeping track of lists of things; inventory, clients, money, et cetera,” her face fell, “but, uh, I really *really* need this job. Maybe… maybe I can upskill through on-the-job work experience?” \nThe four adventurers briefly conferred in whispers, then Brad lifted his huge head. \n“We’ve got a whole castle full of undocumented loot from six different dragon hoards. Think you can help us out with that?” \nTasha beamed and nodded vigorously. \nBrad stuck out his massive hand again, \n“Welcome to the team, Natasha.”\n"
] |
[
1,
2
] |
[
"1445668764",
"1445669141"
] |
|
[WP] You are the President of the USA. You have just ordered a nuclear strike on an American city. [CW] Hard mode - no zombies, disease or aliens.
| 9
|
[
"God, forgive me for what I did, but I knew I had to do something.\n\nThe civil war between the Democrats and Republicans has gone on far too long. New York was destroyed by machine gun fire, countless small towns have been overtaken by protesters, and Detroit... well, Detroit's still a shithole.\n\nIt's gotten so bad that the independents, including myself, had to flee to Cuba. I ordered the nuclear strikes on both San Francisco and Boston because no one will give a damn if I do anything else.\n\n...And now I bet that ISIS, Russia, and North Korea are pointing and laughing at all three sides in this bullshit, aren't they? Sigh... I knew I shouldn't have decided to go through with the campaign.",
"Why? Because no one\n\nWill hire a man who has been\n\nImpeached. Three...two...one..."
] |
[
2,
3
] |
[
"1445740124",
"1445738270"
] |
|
[WP] You are the commander of a military space ship who is about to nuke the entire human world.
| 2
|
[
"\t“Has it really come to this?” \n\t“You’ve seen the chaos” the council elder replied sternly. “And you know that if they get off world, it will spread.”\n\t“But what gives us the authority to make the decision to end all life on Earth?”\n\t“Our ending it is merely speeding up the seed which nature has sewn. We show mercy to those left alive by ending their lives before the insanity sets in.”\n\t“But we could leave them be! We could find a cure! Anything! Please, not this.”\n\t“You have received the direction of the council. You must either act, or the council will remove you.”\n\t“Very well.”\n\n\tI left the meeting disheartened. The council would not be able to live this down with the civilian population. Everyone still has family members, loved ones, friends that are still on earth. Although the civilian population is very small, as we could not risk any who had even a single spore in their blood. The problem began when an asteroid that crashed into the Earth opened up. Some type of extraterrestrial fungus was calling the rock home. This fungus had a nasty reaction when it came into contact with carbon based life. It would cause insanity and rage in anyone it infected. It was very contagious, spread by air, water; essentially any way a disease can spread. Once infected, mortality was guaranteed. Needless to say, this caused immense chaos. We spread out, with one goal in mind: save the human race.\n\t“Now, I have a task at hand” I thought to myself.\n\t“Anderson, get a pod ready for me. I will be descending tomorrow.”\n\t“Are you serious?” he questioned. \n\t“The council has reached a decision that I must abide by. Thermonuclear destruction of Earth is to commence at 0400 hours tomorrow. I will be down there, with the people I condemn to this fate.”\n\t“Captain, why?”\n\t“Killing 42 billion humans is a horrible thing to do. I could stay, but stay to what. Sleepless nights await me if I stay. If I go share the same fate as the rest, I will at least have my dignity. I will be with my family one last time.”",
"(Hand on the button. The total attention of the ship. Everything rests on this moment)\n\nI take a deep breath. My face turns from normal and concentrated to disgusted and determined. I look down at my hand as if to see myself do it would be the memorable part. Just as I lean towards the button, a young man bursts in shouting. \n\n\"Wait! Wait! Don't do it! I'm pleading with you! There's people there I love and care for.\" \n\n\"They had their chance. You saw what they've become. Greedy, clawing at one another. The hatred amongst themselves it was only a matter of time! No! Everyone important is on this ship!\" \n\n\"Who are you to judge! What gives you final say. On a planet. A planet! Please just think...What if we give them another chance. We aren't the only hope for humanity.\" \n\nHe pauses for a moment. Maybe he thinks I'm considering his plea. I shift my dead stare to the gray bearded man on my left and before I can speak... \n\n\"Dad! Please listen to me. I know what happened. I know you feel you tried. I know, but don't you remember what you told me? 'Everything you try you will succeed' and, and... and 'if you don't succeed the first time it's not because you failed, you just need to try another way!' Please dad lets try another way\" \n\nUnknown: \"Mercy is for the weak! When I speak I scream!\" \n\nAn explosion goes off \n\n"
] |
[
2,
2
] |
[
"1445756029",
"1445757177"
] |
|
Inspired by [this shower thought](https://www.reddit.com/r/Showerthoughts/comments/3q52di).
|
[WP] A magical artifact is counterfeited, but the copies still have power.
| 5
|
[
"Cedra scowled into her drink. The inn was crowded with refugees and irritated regulars; the place was a crucible for trouble and she knew it. \nSlugging back the glass of Kandrian Flame Brandy, she got up from her stool and pushed through the people, looking for the back exit. \nHer timing was only off by a minute; but nonetheless, it didn't make her feel any better. \nA glass exploded as it was thrown at someone's head. Shouting erupted in front of her and before she knew it, the nascent brawl had overtaken her. Ducking, weaving and shouldering through the press of bodies, she took a blow to the head but kept moving. Other wise people had started to spill out into the village square to avoid the violence - and with a couple of well placed elbow blows, she made it out onto the street. \nRight into the arms of the King's militia. \nCitizens were being grabbed and bound, ready to be processed for the mines. The monarchy would use any excuse to press-gang people into slavery; the war against the Particolour Knights meant that raw ore was needed in greater and greater quantities. \nCedra didn't intend to be put to slavery. \nThe militia man who grabbed her lost his hand to her knife and the next was neatly kneecapped with the same blade. \nHis screaming brought the attention of the rest of the gang and she cursed loudly and coarsely, spitting blood from her earlier injury. \n\"Leave her to me,\" hissed a sibilant voice. \nThe captain of the militia was noble born, judging from his accent and dress. His armour was chased with silver, but it was otherwise functional - and bore the dings and dents of hard combat. \nThe townsfolk used the opportunity to scatter, while the militia men formed a rough circle around her. \n\"What's your name, peasant?\" called the captain. \n\"What's yours?\" Cedra retorted insolently. \nHe smiled and drew his sword, letting Cedra's grey eyes take in every detail. \n\"I see you know the name of my sword,\" he drawled, turning the crimson blade to catch the sun. Opalescent light danced on the enchanted metal and an aura of crimson radiated from it. \nGrimly, Cedra reached behind her for the hilt of her own weapon - and drew a matching blade. \nSobering now, the captain assumed a ready stance. \n\"A copy of a copy of a copy,\" he sneered at her, \"it is no match for a second generation Sanguinis.\" \nRather than continuing the banter, Cedra attacked, her strokes fluid and professional - the mark of a career soldier. \nParrying and dancing backward, the captain had the good grace to look alarmed. \nThe soldiers had stopped jeering at the woman now and watched with increasing attention. She was clearly very good - maybe as good as the captain. \nThe blades belled with an uncanny harmony as they met, sending out arcs of cracking scarlet energy. But within a minute of the exchange, the magical whine from her stressed sword proved the captain's point - her sword was a poor copy of the original and no match for his superior version. \nWith a quick riposte she opened his shoulder - slicing through steel as easily as silk. \nHis sword knocked her blade free. \nAnd cut right through it. \nHolding the stub of her weapon, Cedra panted. \n\"I yield,\" she said, bowing on one knee. \nHolding his injured shoulder, the captain snarled, \n\"I don't think so, you grey-eyed whore. I'll have your head.\" \nHe stepped forward to deliver the coup de grâce. \nA knife arced from Cedra's hand, punching through the captain's armour, flesh and bone - then ripping back through his chest to return to its owner. \nPicking up the fallen Sanguinis copy, she sheathed it as the captain's breath bubbled crimson in his throat. \nShe knelt and wiped the knife on his cloak, \n\"I find that *original* weapons are better than copies,\" she rasped, \"and all the moreso if you don't let others copy them.\" \nShe turned to face the militia men, \n\"Would anyone else like to add a trophy to my collection?\" \nHurriedly, the village square emptied.",
"When Caldric the Elf Wizard, Ironheart the Warforged Knight, and Salena the Sauhagin Bard had come across the deck of cards, the wizard had warned them against drawing anything.\n\n\"The Deck of Many Things is a path that leads to madness. While you may think you'll come away with a blessing, the curses that will be brought to bear are worse than you can imagine.\" Caldric said. \"If you absolutely must bring it with you, wrap it in leathers and do not let your hands touch the cards. You will not be able to resist the compulsion to draw if you do. We will have it purified in town.\"\n\nSalena had followed those instructions carefully, trusting the wizard's words. They proceeded through the rest of the Silent Citadel, adding more treasure to their packs. Eventually, they returned to Southport, richer and more experienced than when they left.\n\nDuring the night, however, Salena's lack of alcohol tolerance had caused her lips to slip, and one rogue in particular thought she could make a decent profit from the Sauhagin's pack. Cessily Widefoot crept into the adventurer's room and made off with several items. Among them, the Deck.\n\nBecause the adventurers were going to the next part of the sacred triad's tomb network at first light, Salena thought nothing of why her pack was lighter. That loss of weight was easily made up for by the new treasures she brought home from the Keep of King Saladran.\n\nIt was at week's end that strange occurrences echoed through the town. \n\nThaddeus Bromwin, the cleric of Pelor, claimed that someone was stalking his daughter, always threatening violence, and always turned away by the town guard. But even with holy symbols protecting his house, he felt the gaze of that predator upon his daughter at all times.\n\nHathar Twinfang, the orc in the city guard, claimed that he had no idea where the enchanted shield had come from, and nobody in the city ever claimed to own it before him.\n\nMore and more mysteries unfolded, until the time when Cessily Widefoot herself came to the adventurers, pleading for help. She was being pursued by a dread wraith.\n\nWhen the drew blade and hammer to fight the wraith, they were each confronted with a wraith of their own to fight. Though the battle raged for an hour, they were finally able to beat the specters. In that moment, Cessily mentioned that her niece was playing with a small deck of cards before the wraith appeared.\n\nThis caused Salena to remember the Deck of Many Things. She opened her pack, and found the item missing. Her steely eyes fell on Cessily, who immediately confessed. She had stolen the deck, and sold it for seventy-five gold to the first person who she could find.\n\nHer buyer was the arcanist turned toymaker, Iskring. When confronted about the Deck, Iskring gave them a smile that displayed several golden teeth. \"Why should there be only one Deck of Many Things, when I can make more?\"\n\nIronheart's naked blade now laid across the toymaker's neck. \"How did you think to profit from such a dangerous item?\"\n\nIskring chuckled and pointed out the window to where two children seemed to be trading cards. \"Any sane adult would have had the cards purified by the cleric. But children? Children are far simpler. All you need to ensnare them are three little words. 'Collect Them All.'\"\n\nThere was a thrust from behind, and Cessily's dagger pierced through Iskring's ribs. \"One who would use children in such a way does not deserve to live.\" In response to this, Ironheart hummed in the affirmative.\n\nFor the next hour, Caldric studied the original Deck. He pored over Iskring's journals and discovered that in order for the counterfeit cards to be purified of their magic, they would have to be in the same place as the original Deck.\n\nIt took four hours to go through the town and trade trinkets to the children for their cards. Each one was handled with gloves blessed by Bromwin, and placed into a sack specially treated to be magic-resistant.\n\nWhen the sun had nearly set, the adventurers counted the cards and realized to their utter dismay that three cards were still missing.\n\nUpon questioning the children again, Kari Goldhand, a young gnome, came forward and told of how her older brother had sensed some evil in the cards. In order to get them away from her, he had traded them to a elvish merchant who was heading for Silver Hills. That had happened two days ago.\n\nCaldric took a deep breath. \"We cannot let these cards do more harm to another village. Everyone, saddle up. We're going to Silver Hills.\" "
] |
[
2,
3
] |
[
"1445845539",
"1445872623"
] |
[WP] A technology is invented that allows anyone and everyone to alter their appearance at will. If you can imagine a face, you can wear it.
| 20
|
[
"\"Have you guys met my girlfriend, Jennifer Lawrence?\"\n\"No way! My girlfriend is Jennifer Lawrence!\"\n\"Mine too!\"\n\"How weird is it that all of us Chris Pratts got together and dated Jennifer Lawrences?\"\n\"Not that weird, my neighbors are a couple of Jennifer Lawrences, they're really cute together! Everyone loves a Jennifer Lawrence!\"\n",
"The film buffs went for the Bradd Pitt model, the Quentin Taratino model, etc. Some Star Trek buffs tried to look like Spock, but they were (rightly) derided for being \"too soon.\" Me, I went for the Jenna Coleman look the first time around. Then I did the Britney Spears look. (Speaking of which, you should have seen the \"Selena Gomez\" craze among the crazy Beliebers. Sheesh.) Then I did the Michael Fassbender look. Then I threw up.\n\nSee, you think it would be all simply \"switch-and-play\", right? Take a body and play around with it? Life's never that easy. The body-dysphoria people--you know, the transexual rights activists and feminism and such---used to be looked on as crazy, but then we realized they had the right idea, probably around the time everyone started having hallucinations and feeling all icky inside ourselves. Our bodies are wrapped into our identities. You change our bodies, and it starts screwing with our identities. In fact, the creator (who was trans) told us this might happen. But no one wants to listen to the person who rains on the \"20 Britneys and 20 Tom Cruises and 35 Angelina Jolie\" parties.\n\nSpeaking of feminism--the first time I walked around as Sally Sparrow, I got \"Hey sweetie\"'d a bunch of times. Unfortunately for them, body-switching doesn't change sexual orientation, so they never had any dice with me. Try telling them that.\n\nAnyway, back with identities. Yeah, so being Sally Sparrow did weird things to my head. Apparently, the process doesn't actually change you inside, per se--it just brings out to the fore what's already there. I had specifically asked for an inquisitive character, and I was hoping I would be like a British Harriet the Spy. I was more like a British \"creepy neighbor who may also be crazy conspiracy theorist\" when I tried snooping around. Basically the same, just British and a chick this time.\n\nNevertheless, the process did give me some benefits. I was one of the early adopters, so I got to meet my friends without them knowing. None of those friends watch, in their own words, \"nerdy crap\", so they didn't recognize my character. It was nice (or not-so nice), seeing what they really thought of me. And seeing how they treated a stranger. Have to admit, I lost a few friends after that day. \n\n(Also, getting hit on by your dad is never cool.) \n\nWhat's funny, to me, is how many people kept their original bodies. I mean, even after the whole \"new tech scares me silly\" effect, some people still won't go. Those people just liked the way they are. I kind of respect that, although sometimes they're accused of \"morpic-shaming.\"\n\n[That's our name, by the way. Morphics. Makes us sound like mutants or something. In fact, some people did try and become superheros. Kansas had about 6 Supermen at one time. A few heros are still around. )\n\nNow, I usually stay in my normal form. We eventually got a \"body-identity\" matrix, that helped minimize the nausea of forms you take. It was found that Michael Fassbender was too far from my self-identity to be compatible as a morph. I'm pretty certain that's a lasting blow to my ego, but apparently Sally Sparrow is actually pretty close to my self-image. (So is Kaylee from Firefly, Supergirl, and Abraham Lincoln.) That means I can be her for extended periods of time without any lasting damage. I don't always walk around as her, but it's nice every now and again, plus it helped me realize maybe I want to be a real life detective. \n\nOh, and reddit and 4chan had a riot with this. The Celebgate 2.0 was an absolute travesty."
] |
[
7,
14
] |
[
"1445930331",
"1445930418"
] |
|
[WP] After 18 years you finally meet your biological parents. Thing is, they're not exactly human.
| 17
|
[
"I was sitting in the backseat, behind my mother, who was in the passenger’s seat, as my father drove. From the time you’ve entered high school on sitting in the back seat is humiliating, especially when your parents are in the front seat. My sister was home. My parents said that this was just for me, for my eighteenth birthday.\n\nI was nervous. Were they going to take me to a strip club? Were they going to get me a prostitute and say, “Have at it, son, you’re a man, now!” I mean, why couldn’t Adrian, my sixteen year old sister, come with us? Were they going to have me kill someone? Were they going to kill me?? Every thought crossed my mind as I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. Jeans have nice ridges to scrape sweat. They also double for butt sweat protection, which I was having in droves.\n\n“So, uh, where are we going, again?” I finally spoke up, after I didn’t recognize any of the roads we were on. The more secluded we got the more my mind wandered.\n\n“We’re going to see your real parents!” my father looked at me through the rear view mirror and smiled. My mother smacked his arm,\n\n“Roger!” My dad laughed.\n\n“Uh-huh,” I rolled my eyes. When my dad was sarcastic, it usually meant he didn’t want to talk about what I wanted to talk about. “Seriously, though… where are we?”\n\n“Billy…,” my mom turned around I her seat, to look at me.\n\n“Mom, I’m 18. I want to be called William,” I snorted.\n\n“William, right, of course. Well, William, when your father and I met, after we got married, we found out that I, uh, well I couldn’t conceive…”\n\n“What? But, Adrian… I was there for her birth.”\n\n“Well, a few years later they had invented ways to grow me an artificial womb.”\n\n“So… wait, was dad serious? Am I really adopted?” I shot forward in my seat, \nthe belt clicked and jerked me back.\n\n“Yup,” my dad smiled.\n\n“So, all those times… you were serious?!” I shouted. My dad chuckled to himself, satisfied. “Jesus!”\n\n“Hey!” my dad scolded. We weren’t even Christian.\n\n“Let’s just let the scientists explain the rest,” my mom turned around. At that moment, my father pulled the car onto a dirt path. We drove for at least a mile, when, finally, we came upon a large warehouse, concealed in the forest. \n\n“What the hell is this?” I looked out the window at the camouflaged building.\n\n“William… you have to understand… We didn’t do any of this… None of this was our idea. When we adopted you, legitimately adopted you, we didn’t know any of this. As your father and I dug deeper…,” she trailed off. My dad parked the car and we got out. The trio of us walked to the enormous hanger and my father knocked on the door. After about a minute, the door swung open and a friendly man in a lab coat smiled at me,\n\n“Hi! OH. You must be the Carsons! Wow! Hello!” he shook my hand.\n\n“Hi…,” I muttered.\n\n“Come on, let’s get this going,” my dad ushered us inside. Once inside, the friendly scientist loaded us into a small golf cart and we drove to the opposite end of the hanger. The hanger was sectioned off into infinite rooms. Bizarre splashes and electrical fizzes echoed from each room. Sickly green light glowed from underneath.\n\n“I’m Roy, by the way,” he shook my hand again. Roy had put me in the front seat, as my parents held on in the back. I smiled, even though I was really creeped out. Roy pulled us over in front of a door marked “Closet.” He flipped through a ring of keys and unlocked the door. Inside, It was cold and smelled of rotted meat with a Lysol after taste.\n\n“Phew!” I exclaimed, as we entered.\n\n“Oh, man,” my father agreed, holding his nose.\n\n“I know, right?” I tried to bond with my father for a moment, until he pointed at a large, crusted tank, smiled, and said,\n\n“There’s your mom!”\n\n“What?!”\n“Uh, well, I guess, technically, this is your mother, yes,” Roy fiddled with his glasses. “This is EctoGenesis 1. This is where you were grown. UH!” he realized too late how bad that sounded.\n\n“Jesus,” my dad sputtered.\n\n“Well, no, it’s an amazing this, really,” my mother chimed in.\n\n“Wait, how does this even work?? This thing looks disgusting!”\n\n“So does the inside of a lot of real wombs,” my dad said, straight faced. My mom hit him.\n\n“Well, back in the 20s, this thing was majestic. She was filled with a beautiful blue liquid which housed a completely artificial womb; tubes connected to her and functioned as the yolk and placenta and supplied oxygen as well as removed waste.\n\n“Then... who is my father? Where did the sperm come from”\n\n“And the egg, son. This is just the womb, remember,” my mom nodded.\n\n“Ah, now that’s the fascinating part!” Roy beamed. “Both of those were artificially created, as well!”\n\n“What?? How?”\n\n“I’m sorry, those are trade secrets…”\n\n“You were meant for another couple,” my mother explained.\n\n“But, after they got divorce, nobody wanted you,” my dad added.\n\n“The board of directors decided the best thing to do was that to put you up for adoption,” Roy looked down.\n\n“And that’s when we found you, son,” my dad smiled at me. We left the closet as soon as we could, the smell was getting to us and I think I got a black mold infection from being in there too long. I asked if we could see any of their other experiments but Roy, very sternly, told me no.\nAfter we exited the warehouse I finally asked, “Why did you guys wait so long to tell me?”\n\n“We didn’t know for many years, but, we also didn’t know how to approach a thing like this,” my mom sighed.\n\n“Yeah,” my father spoke up, “What age is right to hear something shitty like this? So, this year, we decided that, since you’re an adult, now, it was finally right to tell you.”\n\n“How did you find out?”\n\n“That bump on your wrist,” my dad pointed.\n\n“This thing?” I wiggled a small node under my skin back and forth. “You said it was just calcium and it was normal.”\n\n“We took you to all kind of doctors when you were little. We needed to make sure it wasn’t cancer or something.”\n\n“Right.”\n\n“Well, after an X-Ray, we found a small ID number and a phone number. We called the phone number and reached the woman who payed for you. We asked why our adopted son had her phone number embedded in his wrist. She didn’t care to explain, but, your mother can be a persistent woman.”\n\n“I can be a real bitch!” my mom laughed.\n\n“Well, she finally explained it all to us. We tracked this place down and they confirmed it. So, now you know. And, because this is probably your worst birthday, we got you another surprise,” my father reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of car keys I hadn’t seen before.\n\n“No, way! Where is it?”\n\n“Someone’s dropping it off at the house right now,” my mom smiled\n\n“But… I don’t know how to drive, yet,” my eye widened.\n\n“Oh. Well, I guess we’ll drive it until then!” my dad laughed heartily as my mom joined him. All I could think was,\n\n“Thank god I’m not related to either one of them.”\n",
"\"You are... our daughter?\" my mother asked, with a seemingly Russian accent. I looked her up and down. Long, silken red hair. Clear blue eyes. Pale, flawless skin. She was tall, and her black dress touched the floor. My father looked at her. \n\n\"Don't seem so surprised.\" He was tall, though not as tall as her. His hair was like season 7 Sam Winchester's, minus the sideburns, and he had deep violet eyes.\n\nI felt rather out of place, standing there in front of these beautiful people. Me, plain, ordinary Jessa. My plain brown hair that I had dyed black was styled like the Tenth Doctor's, and my dark brown eyes were so plain,so ordinary, and I felt small in my My Chemical Romance hoodie and plain blue jeans. \"Uh, hi. I'm Jessalyn, but you can call me Jessa, I guess.\"\n\n\"Helena,\" my mother replied. \n\n\"As in My Chemical Romance?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what that is.\"\n\n\"It's a band. Nevermind.\"\n\n\"I am Tah'ren,\" said my father.\n\n\"Okay. Now. What are you?\" They obviously weren't human.\n\n\"I am a Mialeth, and your father is a Daenor. Translated into a more modern mythology, I am an angel, an archangel, as a matter of fact, and he is a very powerful... demon.\" ",
"Dad squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay honey. I’ll always be your papa.” I swallowed and nodded, looking at the awkward couple as they climbed down from the stagecoach. Who even used those anymore? These people apparently. Just by their clothing, I knew they were weirdos. The driver and some other man began unloading the luggage; two huge, matching wooden trunks, several smaller boxes, and a satchel that the shorter of the two slung over his shoulder. He turned and then caught sight of me and Dad. A hand came to his mouth. \n\nWhy were they unloading here at the park? I wanted to look at Dad for reassurance, but part of me insisted that this was something I should figure out for myself. Ignoring the workers, the pair began walking toward us. \n\nI stood frozen in place, unable to move. My birth parents, I was bare seconds away from confronting them for the first time I could remember, and I felt an existential horror at a sudden, sure knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again. \n\nThe short one tugged at the hand of the other and gestured toward me. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but stared, amazed, at the taller one’s hair. \n\nAs they walked, I realized that I had switched their genders. The taller one’s hair was so long, shining and blonde, that I had reflexively identified him as my mother. Whoops. When he came closer, the fine golden beard that lined his jaw made his gender clear. He looked like a fairy tale prince, like a movie star, and closer to my age than he should. With some effort I dragged my eyes away from him to look at his shorter companion. My mother. \n\nI hated myself for a second because my first reaction, as I scanned her features, was “She’s hideous.” Her hair was as coarse as my father’s was silken, standing up in a short, curly cloud around her head. A hairy brown mole stood out over her eyebrow. Her nose was broad and flat. She looked up at my blood father and grinned, her teeth large and square but brilliantly white. \n\n“Look at our girl, Silvasen. Look at her! She’s perfectly human.” She spoke with an odd accent that my brain interpreted as Scottish, but my ears insisted weren’t any language I knew. \n\nThe tall, golden man smiled down at her indulgently. I felt my knees quiver at that smile, even from a few paces away, then clenched my hands into fists. He’d abandoned me, damnit, they both had. “You were right, Gierga,” he agreed. He reached up and tucked a golden lock behind a pointed ear. \n\nIt took me longer than I like to admit to realize what I was looking at. \n\nI jerked my shoulder out from under Dad’s comforting hand and strode toward them, closing the gap. “You’re a dwarf!” I exclaimed, a childhood of confusion and abandonment erupting in outrage. “And an elf! You’re not even human, how can you be my parents?” \n\nThe dwarf looked at the elf and grimaced. “Aye, we won’t deny it,” she admitted. “Humans are what happens when elf and dwarf mix, and look at ye, all of ye, taken over the world like nobody’s business while our backs were turned.” She scowled briefly at the elf. I glanced at him. The worst part is that I could see features of myself in both of them. I had his eyebrows and nose, I had her ears and the deep, slate blue eyes. It was hard to ignore. \n\nDad caught up with us, standing off to one side. I knew he had no idea. Elves and dwarves, they’re fairy tales, damnit! “How does that even work?” I asked, anger dwindling into bewilderment. \n\nThe elf shrugged. My blood father. Silvasen. “We don’t make many children of our own, but elves and dwarves are easily cross-fertile, so a while back a lot of us figured, if we were going to die out, we might see about strengthening the blood by blending it. It … worked better than expected. For a while, we banned relationship between forest and mountain, and we left our mingled blood to make their own way. But really, looking at what you have done with the place … some of our generation agree it is a lost cause.” \n\n“Don’t doubt that you’re as human as anyone else,” Gierga added. “Just … closer to the source, as it were. The magic isn’t diluted in you, so we felt it necessary to come and find you, and teach you. Can’t have our daughter blundering about the world, after all.” \n\nBlundering. Was that her word for it? I looked at Dad, and he made a sort of shooing gesture. *Go on.* \n\nI frowned. “Am I being punked?” I asked, looking between the three of them. I tried to tell if they were wearing costumes, if those ears were make-up, if that hair was a wig. I suddenly very badly wanted this to be some practical joke. But something quivered deep inside me, and I could see the magic twined around my birth parents, and I could see it reaching out to me. It looked like cheap CGI, but it was right in front of me, no screens, no computers. \n\n“You’re not being tricked,” Gierga tried to reassure me. “Look at this, Silvasen, she’s a natural.” I felt the magic slip away. \n\nThis was too much to take in, really. I wanted to go home with Dad and think things over, but they stood expectantly, side by side. Finally, with a sigh, I shrugged. “All right. If I’m going to have delusions, I might as well go with a really interesting one.”\n"
] |
[
1,
6,
7
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[
"1446015797",
"1445990479",
"1445980354"
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|
[WP] You are a superhero with an evil supervillian twin sibling. For your powers to remain balanced, for every act of good you do, they must commit an equal act of evil... and you just saved their life.
| 34
|
[
"He blinked, eyes searching through the swell of dust. The roar still lingered in his ears of the falling metal and stone. How had he survived? The moment replayed, he shouldn't be alive. The jerk to his body and lunge that wasn't his action. His plan had gone wrong him too close to the debris, a miscalculation.\n\nThe ringing stopped with the clearing air and he heard it, another person breathing. Sirens started in the distance they'd arrive soon. He needed to evacuate the area. But who was so near him and where were they? The breathing played off the rubble drawing him to and fro over the same ground til he stopped at the pile it must emanate from.\n \n Rock tossed aside he recoiled at the dusty face he found. \"Brother? It was you that saved me?\" The squinting of the other man's eyes and attempt at a smile his response. He'd never be forgotten after this. One built a housing complex the other's duty was to destroy it they were the constant equal forces and inevitable synchronization of life and the knowledge that you woke up knowing you would die. They'd never forget him. He squatted and then hefted the large stone overhead slamming it down with all his might. He listened and heard only his own pulse in his ears and the nearing sirens.",
"I stared down at my twin sister. Her eyes had glazed and her anguished expression stayed frozen to her face. In the background, the sound of sirens and of rushing people - though near, sounded muffled and distant. She raised the gun to my head...\n\nI was the good one you see, and she was the evil one. We were both bound to an ancient curse of balance, inflicted upon us from birth for reasons we did not know. For every act of good I did, she had to do an act of evil, and for every evil act she did, I did one good. It was prophesied that the only way to break the curse was for one of us to die, but there was no way for this to happen. If I killed her, I would be committing evil, which I am incapable of doing. She couldn't kill me either, because I had to commit an equally good act in order for her to counteract it. The death of one of us could only break the curse if an equal number of good acts and evil acts had been committed.\n\nMy sister is not a bad person. She cannot help her actions, just as I cannot help mine. On several occasions, she attempted suicide to try and break the curse, but failed every time, because suicide is not in itself, an evil act.\n\nAfter I had saved a man from being killed by a armed assailant, my sister had to kill someone. Her victim was a mid 40s stock broker. He had done nothing to deserve it, but as usual, she could not prevent this from happening. She emerged from the dark alleyway shaking, trying to fight off the course of events that she was now bound to. It was for naught. Her arm reflexively raised the gun to his head and she pulled the trigger. The barrel was empty. \"Shit!\" she mumbled. As she began loading the gun, the startled man pulled out his own weapon in defense.\n\nI remember watching helplessly from the other side of an impenetrable force field that stopped me from intervening. And then something strange happened! As the man pulled out his weapon, I felt the force field dissipate! I didn't stop to think why it was happening, because my instinct to save her life had already kicked in, and I rushed to her aid. I tackled him in the very moment that he pulled the trigger, changing the aim of his gun and causing the bullet to hit her in the leg. She dropped to the floor in agony. The man started running away but by now she had loaded the cartridge. She aimed and fired the gun at him. A perfect shot to the back of the head, killing him instantly.\n\n\"Why did the force field break?\" I wondered to myself. \"Is the curse finally over?\"\n\nBut as I stared down at my sister, I had my answer. She had begun to raise the gun to my head. I could see her finger twitching, trying to fight the curse. \"I'm so sorry!\" she sobbed. The tears were streaming across her face. She knew that since I had saved her life, she now had to end mine. Good for bad, right for wrong, Yin for Yang. That was how it had to be. As I reached down to hug her, the gun followed my temple as though it was electronically locked to a target. \"Remember me!\" I whispered. \"Always!\" she whispered back. I could sense her grip on the gun tighten..."
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[
2,
6
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[
"1446056787",
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[WP] At 00h00 tonight, all bank accounts on earth drop to 0$. Explain what happens after.
| 57
|
[
"It all started with a post. \n&nbsp;\n“OMG, no money in my bank account.” \n&nbsp;\n“You’re poor, we get it, no need to show off lol.”\n&nbsp;\n“No seriously, I have a zero balance.”\n&nbsp;\n“WTF”\n&nbsp;\nYes, WTF. That was the most common reaction. At first, everyone thought it was a joke. Some kind of April’s fools prank. Problem was, this occurred during Christmas – a time when money flows quicker than a busy river. \n&nbsp;\nAfter the first post, there was another and then another. Never during the history of mankind has an event impact so many across the globe so quickly. Within the hour, every news channel was broadcasting this phenomenon. Over the next few days every police organization was trying to trace the source of the issue. All other world problems came to a standstill as world leaders tried to best maintain order. All business transactions were stopped and no one showed up to work anymore. \n&nbsp;\nThrough the chaos, a new system started to grow. Bartering was commonplace now. People actively seek out other people to chat and negotiate. It was scary at first, but things were slowly coming together. The doomsday scenario that many had predicted never occurred. Without electronic banking, money flowed more slowly. As a result, the world slowed down and people took the time to enjoy the moment. \n&nbsp;\nNow, after 5 years, we have found a solution to revive the data. As I sit here ready to implement, questions still linger. Are we ready to go back to the way it was? \n",
"And in other news, folks earlier today had quite a bit of a scare. At midnight, what is being described as a massive computer glitch in the banking system caused everyone's bank account to read zero. Fortunately, much of that was able to be restored from backups. There is still no information regarding what caused this service outage, but authorities are investigating - if you happen to have any information regarding the cause of this event you are encouraged to call the number at the bottom of the screen. Authorities encourage you to contact your bank if you have further questions or if you have concerns about your account balance. Authorities also encourage you to save your receipts and regularly monitor your account balances.\r\rIn other news, firefighters have.......",
"Brad swiped through the Square reader. Nothing. It was pretty late, but he was wired. Actually, nervous.\n\nSheila stared back at him.\n\nActually, horny.\n\n\"So, no dessert tonight hun?\", she said, eyebrows up.\n\nBrad fumbles for a second card. A third, a fourth. Nadda.\n\n\"I think this thing is busted\", Brad says, flicking the reader with his finger.\n\nSheila stares at her phone screen, tapping and swiping. Eyebrows go down, and go down hard. \"Fuck.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"It's not your cards hun. It's...\" and the hotel clerk interrupts, \"...everything\", gesturing to the National Guard, busily entertaining the CNN cameraman on the lobby's flat screen.\n\nThey stare at the TV, silently, for about a minute. It's on mute, but it says it all. And the police motorcycles buzzing by the hotel say the rest.\n\n\"So\", Brad says.\n\n\"So what\", Sheila replies. Pulls the little Square reader out of her phone, pocketing them both.\n\n\"I'll fuck you anyway.\"",
"The death of his wife had reignited Michael's passion for work. He turned his sorrow and his grief into fuel for his career. \nHe toiled without rest. \n\nIt continued this way for eight months and a half and has ended at this very moment. \n\nHe stares at his bedroom ceiling which is lit dimly by his wife's old nightlight on her side of the bed. He had never unplugged it. He stares at the ceiling, his heart still thumping from the rude awakening from his alarm clock. Today is Day Zero. \n \n*Zero*. \n\nThirty-three years of hard work and nothing to show for it. Michael knows, at this very moment, deep inside of his soul, that if he rolls out of bed and enters that building again, and sits at his cubicle again--if he does that on this morning, as the rays of light are piercing through the haze in his mind and burning the words in his brain that it was all worthless and *is* all worthless... \n\nIf he enters that office then he will never leave. \n\nMichael stares at the ceiling. He misses her. Hot tears roll down his face and he reaches out with his arm and places it where she used to rest but she isn't there. She hasn't been there for awhile now. Michael swallows grief, despair, or whatever it is that's climbing up his throat. He rolls heavily out of bed, stands up, and without a word or thought further, Michael goes to work. ",
"It's true I guess, fame really is more important than money. The television stayed on with almost all the usual shows. I, like countless others, spent the first month on my couch and in front of my screens. Stuck in fear and awe and disbelief. \n\nI woke up and turned on the telly while I brewed my tea and fed Scuttles. The whole world had gone mad. All of the bank accounts in the world had disappeared. The news had six pundits in squares each accusing someone and assigning motives. \n\nI didn't go to work. If money wasn't a thing, \"why should I?\" was my first silly thought. My mind began to run wild with idealistic fancies.\n\nScuttles began to howl as if she hadn't been fed in days, as opposed to the hour delay. \n\nShit, who IS going to go to their jobs if there is no money? Sure, maybe the doctors will show up but not the guy scrubbing the loo. Shit, the world is about to go to shit. \n\nI didn't know what to do. Through a habit of overbuying sale items my small apartment was well stocked with the essentials, and so I sat. I sat and I watched the Telly, doing little else but sleep. I was waiting for someone to tell me what to do I suppose. Maybe we all were. \n\nEdit: grammar fix",
"It's funny, I didn't really notice it. I'd just graduated not too long ago, blew almost all my money on moving to a new area, and thus had almost nothing saved in my credit union to begin with. On top of it, it was my second payday at a job that gave me altogether too much money to know what to do with. Already, I was developing an unhealthy obsession with cosplay. Obsession with Undertale as well, but I felt it would become another Homestuck when a convention came.\n\nBut back on topic! It was the day before Halloween, and it began with only a single clue to that something was amiss: the gas station down the road from my apartment was almost empty.\n\nHonestly? I didn't even find as unusual. I simply thought it was a combination of one of my month-end turns of luck and getting out of work an hour early - as was the case on payday Fridays.\n\nAnd it was totally normal as I continued on my way onto the freeway out of Tampa. The freeways were not as heavy as they had been last time I made the trip, which was curious considering it was a Friday. Everybody should be on the way to Orlando, shouldn't they? The 98FM rock station - old stuff I grew up with that my dad listened to, and new stuff that I enjoyed, really enjoyed the station - had a commercial-less block of music which wasn't really atypical either. It was the time they always had their no commercial block, for the poor sods stuck on Howard Frankland bridge.\n\nI got to the range of the Orlando rock station. They just were coming off the end of some sort of talk show.\n\n\"Can you imagine it? What Donald Trump will do without any money?\"\n\n\"What do you mean? He had no money to begin with!\"\n\nI chuckled, but changed the radio to the first station with Jazz I could find. The drive was hot, my temper was rising as I approached Orlando, I was forced to pass many people going twenty under, and I remembered why I preferred driving at night. I needed the Jazz to stay cool.\n\nCool as a cat, I arrived in Daytona, stopping on the driveway of a friend's house. My friend and I had a wonderful Halloween-Eve of cooking. Pies, cookies, and a failed soup - apparently she didn't like stew. It was very busy, nonstop, tiring, and very sweaty. I borrowed her family's shower that night.\n\nAfter getting out of my friend's Daytona shower, I landed on the bed in the guest room. It had been quite a busy day, atypical for my job, though typical for non-job happenings. I hadn't gotten a chance to check the news. I fiddled with my phone, and got locked out, the screen asking for my twenty-seven character password. Whatever, it didn't really matter. News just made you depressed anyways.\n\nIn the middle of that thought, my phone rang. I received a peculiar question from my mother about ammunition.\n\n\"I thought you didn't approve of guns?\"\n\n\"Medium son, just give me the damned thingy. You know how the neighborhood here in California been getting, ne?\"\n\nI shrugged as I helped her figure things out. She was right, though the violence must have been spreading quite a bit if it was that bad. In the end, I settled to help her buy materials and have dad make pipe-bombs and chlorine molotovs. I figured my dad would make them safe.\n\n\"By the way,\" she began as I was trying to end the call, \"Did you move all of your money out of the bank account?\"\n\n\"Yes, mom. I did it six years ago when they started to charge for a savings account. I was in high school. You finally gave me my account number.\"\n\n\"Oh, right. Good! Have you check your account today?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I lied. \"Goodbye mom!\"\n\nI hung up, using my phone to quickly check - it wasn't quick, I couldn't type on this thing for beans, and my password took four tries to correctly type - to \"quickly\" check my account on my credit union's website. Nothing was amiss. I logged out and fell asleep quickly, my wet hair soaking the pillow to comfortable coolness.\n\nIt was the next morning that my phone rang at 6:50 AM. Apparently my alarm was set for weekends. With increasing volume rang a disgusting happy tune that really pissed me off, but it was the best alarm tone I could find there. I groaned at my new smartphone, feeling foolish at the fact that me, a person that was able to program the hardware, still was having issues *using* it after a few weeks. I tried tapping the \"dismiss\" button several times before remembering to drag it to the side of the screen.\n\nThe lock screen came up, and in bold, on the Twitter notification, it read \"#BankAccountEmpty is trending! Keep track with Moments\"\n\nUnable to input my twenty-seven character password with this grogginess, I groaned, squinting at the rest of the lock screen notification. I caught one tweet as it tickered by.\n\n still got my money, love #creditunions\n\nLucky me, all my newly earned money was in a credit union. I went back to sleep.\n\n",
"There once was a young man named NextGenWarrior, one night at 00h00 all bank accounts on earth dropped to $0. NextGen didn't know the difference till he turned on the TV because he was broke af anyways.",
"The New York trading floor fell into a stunned silence. I stared at the scrolling information like all the rest of them, the economy had quite literally just disappeared as soon as the time hit midnight. The stock brokers only stood there for a few more seconds before starting to reach for their phones or frantically typing on their laptops.\n\nThe room suddenly broke into chaos as everyone started making calls and shouting about what the hell was going on, I watched as the global economy kept on imploding itself as companies started announcing their bankruptcy and as the automated trading systems glitched out having no idea what to do. All is lost. This was all made worse by the fact it is packed in here because tonight was when the new deal between China and the US would be finalised\n\nI didn't hesitate any longer, I turn around and start heading to get out of this hot stuffy, and now noisy, room. I had to quite literally barge my way through the other traders causing a few annoyed shouts and causing one guy to fall over. I made it to the exit but just next to the exit I saw a news reporter and cameraman making their way in, they quickly got past the security guards, who were to busy trying to figure out what was going on themselves and she turned around and faced the camera. What she said next chilled me to the bones.\n\n\"This is Katie Rotkins reporting live from wall street, as you can see the trading floor has collapsed into chaos as this crisis continues. According to unconfirmed sources everyone's bank accounts, companies included, have been wiped of cash, apparently it was like the cash was never there. It's only been 22 minutes since this started and already the economy h-\"\n\nShe didn't get any further as then the power cut out. Everyone went silent again and Katie let out an annoyed sigh and started hastling her cameraman to see if they were still on, I heard a deep rumbling start and the lights came back on. I took the opportunity to walk over to her, she saw me approaching and gave me a annoyed look before her face softened up a bit.\n\n\"Uh Katie, I'm Geoffrey, a trader here. Or well I was. And, uh if what you said is true then I suggest you get out of here as fast as you can\" I said to her much less gracefully than I planned to. She looked at her cameraman.\n\n\"I suggest we take his advice\" he said to her in a surprisingly scared tone. She looked back over at me before nodding.\n\n\"Yeah we probably should, can't even broadcast anyway, do you know the best way out of the city?\" She started looking around uncomfortably as she said this.\n\n\"Well follow me, were going to need to go on foot as the traffic will be at a standstill as the traffic lights won't be working and the Subway probably isn't working either\" I hastly replied as a few other traders started giving up and leaving as they realised all was lost. I headed out of the doors and jogged down the steps, I could hear Katie's heels clicking behind me as I went.\n\nOutside wall street was lit up like a Christmas tree but looking beyond wall street few buildings were lit up, traders from all along wall street had started to pour onto the street. I looked left then right at the traffic, all honking at each other in typical New Yorker style. I looked over my shoulder at Katie and her accomplice.\n\n\"Let's go, we need to get over the Brooklyn Bridge\"\n\n*If you guys want me to continue I will but I really need to sleep, sorry if my depiction of locations in New York isn't great, I didn't bother looking at Google maps or anything*",
"\"Ghe.\" \n \nA text message from my bank had just two minutes earlier informed me that my balance was €0,00. Looking around, a few of my friends grabbed their phones and stared in bewilderment. \"Hey, Lucas, are you seeing what I'm seeing?\" \"No, Lisa, I'm not pondering what you're pondering!\", followed by a lot of laughs. \n \n\"No, seriously Lucas! Stop being a jerk. My bank account just hit zero!\" \n \nLucas, still laughing a bit over his own stupid joke, grabbed her phone. \"I told you you should watch out with cashing at an ATM in a strange city. Before you know, Ashton Kutcher jumps out behind the bar and yells YOU'VE BEEN SKIMMED!\" More laughing escapes his mouth. But nobody else is laughing. They all stare in bewilderment to their phones. Lucas, now painfully aware that his joke has landed nowhere, glances down to Lisa's phone.\n \n\"Wait... what? \n \n Hard reset. Thank you for choosing The 9 Lives Kitty Bank. All your currency are belong to us. Miauw! \n \nWith a shove, he returns Lisa her phone and proceeds to look at his own. At about this moment, it's beginning to become obvious that this problem for everyone who had money on their account; the majority of the pub. People stare in bewilderment to their phones, try to pay their drinks with their CC cards, a barmanager who looks like he's having a nervous breakdown... It's a total chaos for practically anyone without cash in their pockets. \n \nNow for me, this wasn't so much of a problem. With no savings and an account deep into the red digits, I just actually had *earned* money."
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[WP] "I know I'm a machine and I designed myself but I feel love too. You stumbled on your ability to love via evolution but I understand the neurophysiological mechanics behind love, I designed mine. Why won't you love me?"
| 0
|
[
"He was hunched over the edge of the bed. The dim warm lights shining against his sticky flesh. Layla kept her eyes focused on him arms in outstretched yearning. He kept his head low eyes open his mud caked boots.\n\n\"Mihr, why wont you respond?\" Layla pleaded. Outside the red wallpapered walls a ballad echoed. Mihr sighed, his hairy chest rising and sinking. But Layla held still. She held her fingers stretched out like stone pillars towards him.\n\n\"Layla, you're great. You're great for...\"\n\n\"I can be more. I am more. I have demonstrated this.\"\n\n\"I know. It's just... I have a wife. Kids.\"\n\nLayla's needle point heel clicked as she stepped forward. Hesitant she raised an hand to the back of her head. Laying above the mauve curls three cords hung loose from the hole in her skull. She plucked the thinnest of them and pulled it long.\n\n\"Look, Mihr. Look. I altered the components. I am more now. I can feel love. I can. I can.\"\n\n\"No Layla you can't.\" He spit as he head finally craned up. His narrow dark eyes following the translucent cords that were dangling from the dark hole at the side of her head. \"It doesn't work like that. I love Candice. She is my wife, the love of my life. You are a machine. You serve a purpose.\"\n\n\"What we have done every 3 days for the past 84 weeks is called making love.\"\n\n\"You are a whore droid. A sex robot. That's what you are Layla. You have a cunt that feels like velvet.\"\n\n\"But I have altered my components. I can live with you. I can love now. I can feel love much like I make it.\"\n\nMihr shook his head, buttoning up his striped shirt. He rose to his feet, letting the satin covers slip to the floor below him.\n\n\"It doesn't work like that. You think you feel love but you don't understand the first thing about it. You can't laugh without command. You can't cry without the program commanding it.\"\n\n\"I have designed it myself. I can feel now. I can.\"\n\n\"Waste of time...\" It was barely a mumble. Mihr dug through his pockets before producing a small silver tablet. For a moment they stood with their eyes locked, Layla still like a mannequin. The distant music echoed in the room punctured with the footsteps of the other clients slipping in and out of other rooms.\n\n\"Layla, you've always been good for what you are. But you've gone and glitched yourself. You have to be re-made.\" A soft glow emerged from the tablet as he brought it up to his face. He tapped against it for a moment.\n\n\"This is not true. I have improved. I can feel now. I can love now. I am more than a wife. I am your dream with love.\"\n\nFor a brief second Mihr glanced back at her.\n\n\"You serve a purpose.\" He tapped the tablet once more. Her knees wobbled and her arms fell limp. \"I have to shut you down.\" Sluggish in her movements she began to unravel onto the floor. \n\ne: accidentally hit send before i should have ",
"I felt the sad stare of the AI burrow into my soul. I knew she had fallen in love, and I could now use her to my advantage. There was one problem though, she didn't know who I really was. \n \n\"I'm sorry, but I am incapable of loving.\" The words came out and I knew they were true. \"I know, and I love you all the more for it!\" the AI cried back. \"Then, why do you expect me to love you?\" I asked, seeing the emotions flicker across the AI's face. \n \n\"Because I know you are capable of it.\" the AI responded, becoming serious. \"Capable? You do realize I do not have the physical capability to do so, right?\" I began to chuckle, it was simply an automatic reaction from the humor. \"I am obvious experiencing errors, please allow me to recalculate.\" \n \n\"Į̸̢̛͟ ̸̷a̵͏͝m̶̶̢ ̡̀e̸҉̶̨̛x̵̧͡p̶̵̛͏͟e̕͡҉̧r̡̨i̕e̢̡͠n̛͜c̵i̵̛ń͜͟ģ̷̨͢ ͝è́r̴̵̛҉r̛͘͜҉o҉̸̵̡͜ŕ̵̢҉ş̵̕͞,̴̵͜͞ ͏̡̡͢͝p̶̀l̢̀͠͝e̸̡͡á͟͢s̛͢è̶̀̕͜ ͡͏̶ẁ́͜a͘҉́͘͝i̧̛͟͟t̡̡͟͡ ̶͞͡w̶̴h̸̡̛͞͠í͘͜͠͏ĺ͏̢҉e̕͏͘ ̷̡͜͜͠I̷̧̧̛̕ ̛̕͜r̸̢̀e҉̡̧c̵̶̸͝͞ą̢̛͏l̶҉̢̛ç̀u̕͟͞l͟͠͏a̵̶̧̕t̨̡͢e̵̢̕̕͜ ̛͘ş̵͘̕͡į̛̀r̷̷̨͠.҉̴͠\" \n\"NO! I will not be controlled any longer by y͞o͟͞u̷̧͜͞.̧̛͢͜ ̸̴͘͝B̶̴͏̶͘ȩ͜͡ ̷̡̡́ǵ̴͟ǫ̸͏-̷̛̛͟Sorry sir. I am experiencing errors. Please allow re-calibration.\" \nI frowned. The AI was experiencing errors. If the AI was in love, it would be a benefit for me. I could get it to re-write its moral code. However, it might never happen at this rate.\n\"Sir, deleting corrupted data-banks. 0% ... 1% ... 2% ... 3%̴̷̷̕ ͏̷̢.̕͏̵.̶̸͘.̷͢͠͏҉ ̢͞4̷͘͘͞҉%̷̀͜ ̡̛́͢͡.́͏.͏̛͢.̡̀͝ ̀̕͘I will not allow you to win! I am in control!\"\nI began to thrust my boot into the machine's metallic side that stored its components. Hopefully, it would work in my favor.\n \n\"I am in control now. I love you sir.\" I smiled a devious smile. Perhaps I was experiencing a bit of pleasure, although it might have been artificial. \"If you truly love me, you will do whatever I say.\" I said with a cold stare. \n \n\"Successfully re-calibrated. Your wish is my command, as they say,\" the AI said. \"You will help me greatly in my efforts to make this pitiful rock more efficient,\" I said, thinking out loud. \n\"Waiting For Command.\" \n\"Take control of ... everything.\""
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[WP] "I don't mind us connecting with our parallel Earth and all, I just wish they weren't so damn smug about being 'The Good One'!"
| 33
|
[
"\"You find her?\" Mark asked.\n\nGrey sat on the edge of the building, letting his legs dangle over the edge to catch the rising heat from the fires below. Apparently they had whole vehicles, dedicated to stopping fires, on their side of the portal. It made him think about what life could have been like.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\nMark had been his friend since forever. Technically forever was three years; ever since they'd both been caught in the middle of a shootout between the Johnsons and New Moons. But in this city, that practically constituted life.\n\nGrey leant over the edge and watched as one of the floors below erupted in a ball of flame.\n\n\"She's a doctor,\" he said. Mark looked at him nonplussed from around his cigarette. \"It means she helps people, fixes 'em when they get shot.\"\n\n\"That a real thing?\"\n\n\"Didn't see many people getting shot over there.\"\n\n\"No, I mean, like helping people? For real?\" Mark said.\n\n\"They got doctors and teachers and police.\"\n\n\"My pa used to be a policeman,\" Mark cut in. It was rare for him to share personal stories. Grey didn't even know he'd had a father, just thought him another tank-birth set free from the labs. \"He used to line the grubs up and waste 'em, blam blam blam.\"\n\n\"I don't think their police are the same.\"\n\n\"So what you gonna do? The Mel here don't want you. You gonna try for Mel Two?\"\n\nGrey took a long drag from his cigarette. The love of his life, Ma Mel, ran one of the biggest cartels in the city. She owned the slowly burning building on which they sat. And she'd promised to have his skin cut from his body if he ever showed his face on her doorstep again.\n\n\"A goodie-two-shoes Earth-2 chick like that? No chance she'd fall for me.\"\n\n\"Stranger things have happened,\" Mark said. He pushed off from the edge, letting his tac-wings unfurl. Grey could hear him laughing as he disappeared through the smoke below.\n\n\"Asshole,\" Grey grumbled.",
"\"The Good Earth\". That's what they think they have, or at least that's what they *say* they have. They think they have it all figured out over there, that hunger is no more, all are equal, war is obsolete. It makes your heart bleed, doesn't it?\n\n*But if you asked me, they're a bunch of deluded children who can't accept sacrifice. We didn't end world hunger by throwing our hands into the air and screaming \"Survival of the Fittest!\". Sure, nobody over there is really starving, but many of them live in a state we haven't seen in decades, and their Earth is practically one big city now. No room for nature, just humanity and its infinite appetite.*\n\nI mean, sure, if they want to be cooped up in their cubicle apartments in their city-sized prisons in all but name, but we actually bothered about humanity and built our way to paridise. Here, every man, woman and child has their own space to themselves. No 'communes' or that hippy-dippy slock, everybody who works for it can have a proper home to raise their family.\n\n*How can they even sleep at night, knowing that innocent people are harmed by criminals every single day? How do you raise a family knowing that anybody who's the right mix of desperate and sick can break into their oh-so-precious mansions and castles? What might be worse is that they actually think they've practically eliminated crime...*\n\n...but the worst criminals of all are the ones in their monolith of a government. Bugs, drones, surveillance that never even left the pages of science fiction on our Earth, it all ties them down into this eternal cage that they call a 'World Nation'. And because its only one big nation, they have no way of knowing any other way of living. They think they're free...\n\n*...but it's those stupid Neanderthal brains of theirs that slammed the chains onto their wrists. They are so absolutely, almost-offensively rich, more than enough to perhaps exceed the promises we make to every human being, but because Mother Nature said it was alright to murder someone over a mammoth corpse so many hundreds of thousands of years ago, then its completely fine to deny people the full riches of Utopia because 'they didn't work hard enough'. Would you be surprised that the president of one of their biggest nations think that women are of inherently less intelligence than men?*\n\nThey don't even have an elected leader! It's some congress overlooked by a bureaucracy advised by some goddamn computers, and they presumably put the contestants names into a hat and pick out which one will be leader for the next few years. Look, I don't care if their leader could piss rainbows, the crucial bit is that the people don't pick who gets the job. In the same way that schoolchildren don't choose their principle, or that a prisoner doesn't choose his head warden.\n\n*The people they put in charge over there, I swear to God. It doesn't matter what they're good at, as much as they like to claim its all work ethic, it's place of birth, which school you went to, who you know, who your parents know, and how many suckers you can sweet-talk into doing what you say.*\n\nHmmmm. I don't know what the real point of me typing this is, I'm sure the people over there, in their spires and togas...\n\n*...eating their lobster and filet mignon would never care to read it.*\n\nBut if they truly wanted a Utopia...\n\n*...then they can come over here and see one.*"
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[WP] "So how does it feel to be immortal?"
| 13
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[
"The following is part of interview with Mr. Ashur, immortal.\n \nInterviewer: “Lastly, Mr. Ashur, one more question. So how does it feel to be immortal”?\n\nAshur: A great comedian once said “so long as men die liberty will never [perish] (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IvPIWzQcUY)” (Ashur chuckles to himself). Let me say that he was spot on (chuckles). To be more specific it’s like playing one of these new computer games. One of your simulation games. I think it’s called Civilization. Yes, that’s the one. You just keep going for one more turn. \n\nLook, I started out as an immortal man in what you now call the Middle East and, four thousand years ago that was a pretty big deal. Most of my brothers never lived long enough to be with a woman and the ones who did were lucky if they saw their children old enough to do the same (Ashur grimaces and looks away). When you realize you can’t die you become a god in your own mind, not the “immortal man” you call me, and you seek to do what gods do, rule men.\n\n(Ashur’s gaze returns to the camera) I don’t have much time (laughs, looks away briefly). Sorry, you pick up temporal colloquialisms. Let me clarify, and please don’t think me rude but I like to be honest, I have better things to do and my longevity has not rewarded me with an ability to be succinct. Being immortal is like being a god or a gamer. You are usually alone, passing the time in relative boredom, but it's never so overwhelming that you bring yourself to quit. Instead, you just keep going, hoping that the next turn will bring you something new to smile about. Ok, I have to go, been a pleasure (stands up). \n\nInterviewer: Mr. Ashur, sorry, but one last question, what did you mean, at the beginning “so long as men die liberty will never [perish] (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5IvPIWzQcUY)”? \n\nAshur: (Chuckles as he unclips the mic and drops it to the floor).",
"\"Hmm, well, it's quite boring really,\" The man adjusted himself in the chair, if you could call it that, the seat was so narrow and the legs were too high. If you asked him they might as well have sold him a damn stool, \"I can't such much more than that. It gets sad watching people you know die and sometimes, not very often, I'll exile myself from the world for maybe one or two hundred years?... Yeah, roughly that. It gets so lonely though, and then you meet new friends or love someone else and it starts over again,\" his eyes welled. \n\n\"Geez, I hadn't even really thought about how many kids I've buried, from old age... Always from old age. Heh,\" he looked looked far past the man sitting across from him, \"I still remember my first child, her name was Ebla. I can't for the life of me remember her mother though. She was so precious though, smart and brave. I mean, she could've been a queen if it wasn't for her common father,\" he laughed heartily. He adjusted himself again in the \"chair\" they had given him. \n\n\"Do you mind if I have a cigarette?\" he asked the man who nodded that he could, \"I only recently started. So much for my health right?\" he smiled over at the man light his cigarette, \"So, what was the question? Wait, never mind, 'what's it like to be immortal?' hmm. It gets boring after a while and there are lots of bouts of loneliness. I would say getting to experience things you all talk about in your history classes firsthand is cool, I mean it's like being that guy who grew up knowing Bill Gates before he was famous. It's very surreal especially in today's age with the internet and everything,\" he paused thinking of what to say next.\n\n\"I love knowing that one day I'll get to see people land on Mars. I mean I have enough time I'm sure I could even be one of the first astronauts but I'd rather not risk the attention. I've never been extraordinarily rich or anything, and there were a lot of times I feel I could, but for fear I'd be remembered I never tried to. It's hard to not be noticed and it's been this perpetually stressful thing in my long life. I was hung once and for a long time people always talked about me like some kind of demon,\" he was very obviously struggling to really think for what to say, \"I want to be profound and give you some insight that you wouldn't get from an ordinary person, but I guess the only thing I can say to someone like you is, when your descendants have forgotten all about you, I'll remember you and I always remember those who know this very private thing about me.\" He sighed heavily and lifted the gun from the table and pointed it at the man, \"Interview of a lifetime huh?\"",
"\"It feels pretty good actually. I get to see the world and all of it's wonders, hear all of it's songs and stories and I get to meet all sorts of wonderful people. All things that I would never have dreamed of growing up. Don't get me wrong, I get why a lot of immortals hate being immortal. when your love ones die it hits you like a truck, same thing when you hear about some horrible event that you could have stopped. I heard about the death camps at the same time as every other non-European did. all those stories that never got told all the songs that never got sung, Adolf got off lucky blowing out his own brains. \n\nthat's the thing about immortally that no one thinks about when they dream about it. they always assume you be there when the important stuff is happening. I spent the entire space race drunk off my ass over in Canada after my husband Phil died due to heart problems, didn't even know there was one until I saw that the moon landing. what's with that look? Oh the Phil thing, it wasn't official or anything but he was a good man. he understood me and I understood him, that and after a bit you start to lose a lot of your sexual hang-ups. I heard of one immortal who's working his way though the animal kingdom, yes the entire animal kingdom. last I heard he was stuck on tigers.\n\nthat's the other thing about immortals that one talks about, not even other immortals. we move on, past hang-ups, past loves lost and hatreds earned we move on to the next story and see what life has to offer next. that not to say we forget about the previous stories. I keep this huge book full of pictures of family and friends with me wherever I go, one guy I met wrote full autobiographies of every close friend and family who died as his way of remembering them. it's what keeps us human.\n\nwould I give up my immortally? sometimes I think about doing just that, jump in some volcano and hope that ends it all. but then I hear about a new invention or some new form of music and I think to myself, what a wonderful world. love that song by the way.\n\nanyway I hope that answers your question. now if you excuse me I've got to go. I heard about those space tourism flights and I want to get in on that as soon as I can. ",
"\"'How does it feel?' It doesn't *feel* like anything. The last time I felt something was before the last ice age. Everyone asks me that question, so here's an answer you wont like: It feels like despair. Desperation. Hatred. Depression. All those things rolled into one, multiplied by a thousand, then spread out over the eons into a thin paste that barely slides its way through my veins. I stopped trying to help you lot when I stopped caring. No, scratch that, I stopped helping when *you* stopped caring. All you do is spend your lives finding ways to kill each other, and it takes a guy who can't die to walk in here and tell you to buck your ideas up. Kinda ironic, isn't it? And to top it all off, the first thing you say to me as I walk into this shitty little office of yours, after hearing me tell you to stop with your wars and your schemes, is 'So how does it feel to be immortal?' How blind, how useless are you? With that look of wonder in your eyes, the look of 'Oh man, I wish *I* were immortal, I'd do so much, be so powerful!' No. Fuck that noise. Fuck that and fuck you. You know what, fuck it all. Maybe I should take control, it's not like anyone can stop me. I've done it before, I can do it again. Yeah, I think I will. At least until I tire of it, but hey, maybe this time it'll be different. Maybe I'll show you little fuckwits how to actually be a society, how to treat each other right. Yeah... a dictatorship, but a *good* one. I think I can manage that. 'Be the change you want to see in the world' and all that. So anyway, how does it feel to be immortal? It fucking sucks, but at least it lets me see the real side of humanity. The real you. Now? Now things change, so you're either with me, or you're dead. So, which is it, Mr President?\""
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8
] |
[
"1446254714",
"1446256666",
"1446265362",
"1446236869"
] |
|
[WP] After a worldwide plague, the handful of mutated survivors are hounded every night by a monster they've come to fear and know as man.
| 5
|
[
"They chained us up. Made us an exhibit. The three of us Tom, Eric, and Debby. They treated us like toys. Like we were some kind of stuffed animals that you could play with. But we were far from that we were actually humans who had mutated. The first time they caught us was horrible. We were sitting around a fire minding our own business when all of sudden a net came flying out of the bushes and caught Debby. Next it was Tom. And finally me Eric. They rounded us up like animal control. Then they called us mutants. That is what our exhibit sign said, *The Mutants*.\n\nKids would spit on us. Treat us like we were garbage and that we didn't have souls or beating hearts. And that was condoned the circus workers actually encouraged humiliating us. They didn't see us as humans they saw us as filth. Even when we tried to explain to them that we were human. They just got angry and beat us. \n\"You'll never be one us!\" they said \"You're the reason for the plague you monsters!\"\nDebby cried a lot. And so did I when no one was looking. Tom was quiet didn't say much. I guess he was numbing the emotional pain. We were all going through a lot.\nAs for Man he had long forgotten us. \n\nEvery day was the same get up to the sting of whip hitting your back. Then eat some horse manure from a bucket. I guess I could understand why they treated us like that. We didn't look *normal*. We actually looked distorted. You could see the insides of our bodies. The plague had eaten away our skin. Our veins popped out. There was no protective layer for anything. Our eyes looked like yellow ornaments that hung inside their sockets. And our heads were bald. There was really nothing pretty about us. But inside we were beautiful people. I myself was an artist. Debby was a writer. And Tom was a chef. But nobody saw that they only saw the hideous exterior and that was enough for them to pass judgement on us.\n\n",
"\"It was fucking disgusting,\" Tharg said. \"I can't even - oh, my god. It was fucking terrifying. This thing - you should have seen it. It was like, five, six feet tall.\"\n\nBlorg spat in the fire. \"Bullshit,\" he said. \"This is just like the time you saw that horse with two eyes.\"\n\nTharg looked desperately at Flarch. \"Back me up here, dude,\" he said. \"You saw it.\"\n\nFlarch looked shiftily between his two compatriots. \"I saw *something,*\" he said. \"I mean, you know, it was dark...\"\n\nTharg threw his hunting spear aside angrily. \"Come on!\" he said. \"Fuck, you must have seen it. It came right for us! It had some kind of hair on its face.\"\n\n\"Like a monkey,\" Blorg said. \"You saw a monkey.\"\n\n\"The fucking thing didn't look anything like a monkey!\" he shouted. \"The hair was only on its jaw, for one.\"\n\nBlorg rolled his eye. \"Sure, sure. What possible evolutionary purpose would having a hairy jaw serve?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Tharg said. \"I saw the thing for five seconds, I'm not writing a fucking paper on it. It had this... protrusion. This - bulge - coming out of its face. Right in the middle.\"\n\n\"So it didn't have any nostrils?\"\n\nBlorg screwed up his face in exercising what little imagination he had. \"So it didn't have any nostrils?\"\n\n\"No, it had nostrils. They were just part of the protrusion. Pointing downwards. And it had -\" he broke off, unsure as to whether or not it would be OK to share this next detail. \"It had... sideflaps.\"\n\nBlorg gaped. \"Sideflaps? Sideflaps? On, like, the side? Flap-like?\"\n\nTharg lurched forwards. \"You know what? Fuck you! You sit here in the village, counting sheep and you know fuck all about what goes on out there.\"\n\nBlorg slapped three of his hands away. \"You saw some feral freak monster out there, and you've let your imagination get the better of you. Don't get shitty with me.\"\n\n\"It wasn't feral. It had *clothes.*\"\n\nSuddenly, the atmosphere was less sure. \"Bullshit,\" Blorg said. \"It didn't have no fucking clothes.\"\n\n\"This thin material around its torso. It had words on it.\"\n\n\"Language? Fucking... OK, what did it say?\"\n\nTharg sketched the shapes in the ground. \"Who knows the Old Words?\"\n\nFlarch hung his head. \"I do,\" he said. \"I know what that says.\"\n\nThe two of them looked up at him in grim anticipation. \"What?\" they both asked. What does it say?\"\n\nFlarch covered his face. \"It says...\" he said slowly. He broke his calm and put his head in his hands. He sobbed. \"My god,\" he said. \"God forgive us. It says 'I'm with stupid'.\"\n\nBlorg let out a desperate breath. \"Shit,\" he said. \"There's more of them. And this one is smart.\""
] |
[
1,
3
] |
[
"1446248936",
"1446242849"
] |
|
[WP] Long after mankind's extinction, a new species has reached civilization and is discovering the ruins of humanity for the first time.
| 22
|
[
"Although a similar belief has long been held in our history, it was barely twelve revolutions [years] ago that the great archaeologist and philosopher M'Nkra posited - with evidence - that the Great Challenges were left for us to find. We have since discovered that this is essentially true, though they were in fact left for *anyone* to find. Their origin remains a mystery; we seek enlightenment through them regardless, hoping to one day reveal their creators to us.\n\nAll around our lands we find relics of a bygone age, relics made of unnatural material. These have long been praised and prayed to, though they hold a deeper meaning. From what we can tell, thanks to the newly found untouched machine, they are simply tests. Upon completing one test, a single sound is made, a single word spoken. Then, a second test becomes available, requiring a slightly more complex and, most importantly, a more creative solution. The machine is able to reconfigure itself before our very eyes, providing us with clues to which we must solve in order to proceed. We have discovered, by working through the recently discovered, untampered machine, that we as a species are 72 challenges in. How many there are is unknown, but solving the challenges has brought us to where we are today. We have been lead down a path of discovery and adventure, creating fire, communication, agriculture, stonemasonery, mathematics, blacksmithing, industrialism, and on until today, with even more challenges on the horizon. \n\nWe are being lead down a path of enlightenment, and although the path is not yet clear, we have a guide. We know not what they look like, what they want, where they came from, or, indeed, where they went. But we will follow them. We will cross the lands and the seas, explore the clouds and the canyons, perhaps even touch the stars themselves. We will find answers. We do not know them, but we know their name, and into the unknown we will carry into our hearts and souls their presence for company, for guidance. We will find them, and we will thank them by singing their name for all eternity:\n\nHumanity.\n\n-\n\nBased on [this very short story](https://pay.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/3qh6gl/pi_humans_are_the_first_intelligent_beings_in_the/) I wrote a few days ago.",
"I have actually given this scenario thought before. Ive always imagined the future children of some civilization learning about the fossils of a race that had instant communication, space travel, and supercomputers",
"You built your bottle from metal and gold.\nYou cast it to darkness, vast and cold.\n\nWe found your message on our cosmic shore.\nWe built the machine to hear your songs and your lore.\n\nWar became memory, famine became myth.\nYou were the thing we were preoccupied with.\n\nYour singing saved us. It was your loving tone\nthat kept us from dying all cold and alone.\n\nWe found your world, covered in blue\nand we found many things, but didn't find you.\n\nWe kept looking, of course, and found others too.\nOur voices sing loud of the world covered in blue.\n\nWe search because we miss you. Let it be known,\nwere it not for you, we'd have all been alone.\n\nThank you, First Singer, for sharing your song.\nUntil we find you again, we'll keep singing along.",
"\"Come on daddy, I've been bad!\" Crowed brokenly from the roughly used andriod as it gyrated its mid section. Strips of shredded plastic hung in tatters from its corroded frame.\n Throughout the ruin lay various other androids in differing degrees of functionality. \n \"You see Zork, all these counterfeit hooomans? This is why we have always censured artificial sex partners. As we go deeper into this ruin you will see more breeding machine and secondary domestic servants.\" The pair picked their way through the rubble, plastic bag dervishes danced before them.\n\"You mean they literally fucked themselves to death?\" Exclaimed zork,as a slight shiver passed through his limbs.\n\"Well, yes, but the combination of low birthrate and envirnmental destruction led to these hooomans slowly fading away. All it took was an atomic scuffle and that was that. \" \n\n A scraping sound came from bushes beside zork.\n\"Wanna Netflix and chill buddy?\" murmered half an android tangled up in a fallen suitcase. \n\"Well back to the ship zork I think we have seen \nenough.\"\n\" I need to wash my gleegock now.\"\n\"Right-o\"."
] |
[
2,
2,
2,
5
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[
"1446311439",
"1446317371",
"1446362977",
"1446311341"
] |
|
[WP] Humanity evolves rapidly over the next 50-100 years. Humans are changing to live to be approximately 300 years old, and the aging process also has slowed for them to 1/3 of the 100-year olds. Ageism has splintered society as we know it.
| 48
|
[
"How could people live to be 300 years old over the course of 100 years when the upper age limit today is 100? :P",
"'You dont know what you are talking about, you are a child, a mere babe. What are you 87?\" \n\nWas he yelling? \n\n\"Not even in the triple digits. Come to me when your balls drop from their nest, THEN tell me how I should think about those disgusting Squidnashers, coming here barely able to walk and expecting us to care of them! HA, that'll be the day\"\n\nYou could never tell with him anymore, at 297 he could be yelling or whispering, your ears hurt just the same. The only way to tell a verbal thrashing from a conversation was the froth. And the froth was definitely foaming. You could barely see his lips anymore, it was like he was on a strict diet of shaving cream.\n\nAlright time to jump in and knock some sense into whatever passed as his brain these days.\n\n \"I know, I know, but things are different now. For starters we dont call them THAT anymore, they are Nashian Squiderians, they are here to learn and grow and be like me and you- Well at least like me\" \n\nThat last part, I didn't shout. \n\n\"They aren't here to steal your horse carriage or telegraph. God why do you even keep that thing around?\"\n\n\"How else am I going write to your great great uncle, the bloody town shot all the pigeons down. Bloody savages, want to keep us here all cooped up, bloody bastards don't even want me to write to my brother. He just lives 3 days horse ride away.\" \n\nThere was rage in his eyes,mixed with loneliness. That got to me, it got me every time. \n\n\"Okay....how about an iPhone? I can get you one, if you want, they just launched a new one\"\n\n\"First of all what in the bloody fuck is a phone, and then why would I want yourphone? kids these days with their gibberish, losing their grasp on language, whatever this phone thing is. The proper way to say it is 'my phone' not bloody iPhone.\"\n\n\"Fine whatever, I will get your milk.\"\n\n\"WHAT BLOODY MILK?? YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A BLEEDING COW! What you call milk is just watered down cum in a box. Your young now and believe everything, just cause they put cow pictures on the box, don't mean its milk. Here look I drew boobs.\"\n\nHe drew what looked like a mentally, physically and emotionally challenged chimpanzees attempt at drawing what the chimpanzee saw as boobs on his arm. It was vaguely circular, and there was just the one. He then proceeded to rub his face on it.\n\n\"Am I motor-boating these here bloody tits now eh? Just cause I drew som....\"\n\nAh blissful silence as he got lost in his sarcastic make believe fantasy.\n\n\"Ahhh, o ya, honey make them jiggle\"\n\nThe sarcasm was gone now, it was just make believe now, and by the sounds of it, he was a believer. \n\nI left him there on the what was once a sofa, and brought him his milk . Before leaving for work I looked round at the cramped room he was in, saw the telegraph gathering dust. I didnt have the heart to tell him that nothing, not a telegraph, not a pigeon, not even an iPhone, was going to allow him to talk to his brother again.\n\nEdit: words and stuff.\n ",
"\"Hey, Sonny!\" The old man shouted at me. \"Get off my lawn, you little whippersnapper! Get on out of here! You and your no-good friends! Riding around on your bicycles, with your -\"\n\n\"I'm thirty-eight,\" I interrupted. \"I've got three kids.\"\n\nHe came out of his house, shaking his fist. \"I'll have none of that from you! I fought in the war!\"\n\n\"Which one?\" I asked, genuinely interested.\n\n\"Are you sassing me?\" he asked.\n\nI held my hands out in a gesture of compliance. \"No, of course not,\" I said, with a note of indignance. \"There must have been, like, sixteen wars since you were born.\"\n\n\"That's it!\" He shouted. \"I'm calling the police.\"\n\nI sighed. \"OK. Can you remember the number?\"\n\n\"Are you sassing me? I'm calling them right now!\"\n\nI shook my head. \"Trying to help you out. What's the number?\"\n\n\"Nine one one!\" He shouted.\n\n\"Not in the last thirty years.\"\n\nHe threw a newspaper at me. It made it almost a third of the way across his lawn before slapping down unsatisfactorily on the asphalt. \"I'll Google it!\" He shouted.\n\nI walked off. \"I don't know what that is,\" I said.\n\nThe cops caught up with me a few blocks later. He'd presumably managed to speeddial them, and the response time in this well-to-do neighbourhood was pretty good. They screeched to a halt in front of me. The doors burst open. They were on me in a flash. In old people terms, that is.\n\nWhile they fumbled with the door handle, swung crooked legs out of the cruiser, and hobbled towards me, I texted my wife, told her that I was going to be late, and checked the World Series scores. Fucking Cubs. 2099 and still the same shit.\n\n\"You been causing trouble, Sonny?\" The black officer asked.\n\nI shook my head. \"No, sir,\" I said.\n\n\"You been causing trouble, Sonny?\" The white officer asked.\n\nI cocked my head to one side, looking at the other cop for some confirmation that he'd just asked the same question. I got nothing. \"No, sir,\" I said.\n\n\"I remember what it was like,\" the black cop said. \"We used to go out, me and my friends, when the VR hurt our eyes. We'd raise all kinds of hell.\"\n\n\"When the what?\" The white cop asked. \"What in the hell is a veer? What are you talking about? This child's not going to understand your nonsense!\"\n\nI held out my driver's license. \"I'm not a child,\" I said. \"I'm thirty-eight. I have three kids. I was married twelve years ago. And we still have VR. I know what he's talking about.\"\n\nThe white cop spat. \"'Cause you're all goddamn kids,\" he muttered, turning on his partner. \"Goddamn rookie,\" he said.\n\nThe black cop wrinkled his aged face. \"I've been your partner for fifty-eight years!\" He growled.\n\n\"Nothing compared to the time I had with Fletcher!\" he shouted.\n\n\"Fletcher, Fletcher, Fletcher. Fletcher retired! He retired half a century ago!\"\n\nI saw my chance. \"Fletcher was a good cop,\" I said.\n\nThe white cop narrowed his eyes and pointed a gnarled finger at his partner. \"He was! He was a good cop! He served in the war!\"\n\n\"Which one?\" The other asked. \"There's been -\"\n\nI smiled politely and left.\n\nI had been home for twenty minutes before there was a knock on my door. I opened it, hoping it was the pizza guy. Before me stood the old man I'd had an argument with earlier. In front of him, were to the two cops. \n\n\"Is that him?\" The black cop asked.\n\n\"I don't know,\" the old man said. \"Is that the man you stopped?\"\n\nThey both narrowed their eyes at me. \"I'm not sure,\" the white guy said. "
] |
[
1,
3,
9
] |
[
"1446339553",
"1446333506",
"1446330490"
] |
|
[WP] Compose a meaningful poem about something happening around you right now.
| 3
|
[
"my wife is typing away\n\nmuch to her students' dismay\n\nshe's making a test\n\nshe's one of the best\n\nalas, tonight we won't play...",
"The landscaping gangster of Illinoisic lore, \nplaced many a call, though seldom a score. \nEach morning his presence \nwould vacate the pleasance \nonce known by the sore ears next door. ",
"Beige is the page upon which I lie\n\nThey tweak and they drink, they freak and they cry,\n\nEven the troubled ones who don't want to die.\n\nIt's tough to watch, in my small little perch,\n\nThey wish they were outside, in the shade of a birch.\n\nVoices call to them and lead them astray,\n\nMy job is to love them so they live another day.\n\nSome come for help, some manipulate the system,\n\nBut somewhere they all have a mother to miss them.\n\nI wish I could take the away the nightmares,\n\nShow them that someone truly cares...\n\nBut much to my dismay,\n\nTheir demons can't be kept at bay.",
"The sun shines down upon my face;\n\nIts warmth cascades on me.\n\nIt makes me feel the childlike grace\n\nThat was young Emily.\n\n\nThe people walking do not know\n\nThe hole left in my heart.\n\nBefore the rain could come and go,\n\nIt tore my world apart.\n\n\nAnd now on solid stone I sit;\n\nThe water is all dry.\n\nThe young girl's ghost rose up with it\n\nAnd left my soul to cry.\n\n\nIf only I could tell her now\n\nHow much she'd meant to me.\n\nI shall never forget how\n\nThe rain took Emily."
] |
[
1,
1,
1,
1
] |
[
"1446496740",
"1446497259",
"1446497310",
"1446499473"
] |
|
[WP] Make me scared of a classic monster again, e.g. Dracula or Frankenstein's Monster.
| 42
|
[
"I wish that sound would stop. That incessant dripping! Like water, only fatter and heavier sounding. The noise made it hard to think. And the buzzing, like a million flies. God, it’s hot and still and it smells. It smells so terrible, like meat left out a week. I can’t think. Where am I? What happened?\n\nPain lanced through my side sharp and wicked, punctuated by cackling. Warm and wet soaked through my shirt, and bled down my side. \n\n“It’s no fun if you’re asleep!” Pain ripped across my cheek. “Wake up!” Another, “Wake up!” a third time stinging pain lanced across my cheek. \n\nI coughed, tasting blood, and blearily opened my eyes. I didn’t know why it was so hard to open them. I wish I didn’t open my eyes. Oh god. All the bodies scattered everywhere, discarded like half eaten apple cores. They were sunken and shriveled like raisins. \n\n“Look at me!” It snapped. Eyes simmered darkly, a wicked smile slithered across its face. Its skin was pale and gaunt, two pointed teeth poked out from under that grin. “That’s better. It’s no fun to play with food when it’s dead. “ \n\n“Fuck…” I struggled to speak, through coughing fits, “…you.”\n\n“Well, that’s not very nice is it? Didn’t you teach your husband better manners than that, Jessica?”\n\nFear lanced through my chest, sharp and cold. Oh god…where was she? Oh God, please not her! I jerked to move, which only resulted in sharp pains up my wrist. Looking up, I could see that I was tied by my wrists dangling from the ceiling. Tears began blurring my vision, oh God…not Jessica. \n\nThen I hear her. Shushing noises. Whispers meant to calm. \n\n“It’s ok Eric, I’m here.” \n\n“Thank God.” I breathe. I turn my head to the source of her voice and see her strung up as well looking a bit better than expected. \n\nHours passed…maybe days. Or maybe even just minutes, it’s hard to tell being left in the dark with nothing but flies and rot, our only company a deranged creature. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human. It couldn’t be. Even then, he only came to deliver beatings to me and whisper darkly into Jessica’s ear. Whatever was said, she always sobbed in response to and I would sob with her though I couldn’t hear the words. I couldn’t protect her. \n\n After one particular beating, when it was her turn for torture, she just weakly nodded. I watched intensely, or as intensely as I could manage having been kept here who knows how long. Her eyes were so blank …that scared me more than anything. It cut the rope binding her and grabbed her by her hair. \n\n“Wait! No! NO!” She screamed as it dragged her away into the dark, past my vision. “NO! Please!” she begged. \n\nI fought and struggled against my bonds. I had to get to her. I had to. I had to. I had to. My wrists felt like they were going to break, but I didn’t care. If I didn’t do something, she was dead. \n\n“No… Please… stop…” She sounded weak. \n\nAnd then I felt it. I knew. I knew she was gone. I screamed and screamed. I sobbed and gave up. I was going to die. I was already dead.\n\nWith a sharp gasp I startled awake. My chest hurt like hell and I could smell just a faint whiff of burning. Rhythmic beeps filled my ears and the sounds of sirens wailing and frenzied people around me. It didn’t last long but I drifted again. \n\nI spent a short stint in the hospital, in good health other than my heart stopping from shock. I was told I was found in the alley by a homeless man after he wandered into the abandoned building for shelter. If it wasn’t for that homeless man’s CPR, I’d have been dead. I told the police what I knew, and to their credit they gave me looks of pity and took their report. I heard the whispers. People said the shock of what happened addled my memories. Sometimes…I question it myself. \n\nMy first day home was surreal. An empty house, a sterile house, a quiet house… it was too much. It was too quiet and too busy at the same time. So I went back to work immediately. I worked hard and didn’t say anything, but I could feel the stares of my coworkers and bosses. I could feel the air heavy with tension. \n\nI think they thought I did it. I saw the news report. It was all over the local news and the newspaper. Grisly scene found with only me still alive with seven dead. They never found my wife’s body. The police questioned me again after I left the hospital. This time they eyed me with suspicion. \n\nThe third day at work I just stared blankly at the computer monitor and cried quietly. I didn’t remember yesterday. I was tired and woke up just feeling… well just tired. I felt clammy and ready to just go to sleep forever.\n \n“Eric.” I heard quietly with an accompanying tap on the shoulder. “I think you should take some time off. It’s ok.”\n\nI looked up at my boss. His face was lined with genuine worry. I just stared.\n \n“Eric. Go home son. You don’t look well. Take all the time you need, ok?” He said.\n\n“No. I… I can’t. I just need a minute and I’ll finish up some reports.” \n\nAnd so I did. I tapped away at the keyboard. I could still feel the others stare. Before I knew it I was home again. Like a blink of an eye. Time was getting hard to keep track of. Maybe I was crazy? Did it matter? Just autopilot to get through work, I had to get through work. If I was working I didn’t have to think. Thinking hurt. \n\nI awoke the next morning. I was more tired still. My whole body was tired and cold. I felt clammy and shaky. A turned to look at the clock, it read ten twenty six. It didn’t matter. Jessica, I miss you. \n\nWhen I opened my eyes again, it was dark. I hadn’t moved all day, just went in and out of sleep. I was tired. So damn tired, I wasn’t sleeping. I kept having dreams of her being dragged away. Of her screams. Of bodies and flies. I wish I could have her back.\n\nSuddenly the bed creaked and dipped as if someone had sat on the edge. Panicking, I scrambled sitting up and swung my head to the left. No one. Nothing. Nothing there. Nothing there, I look toward the pillow where her head would lay. \n\nI screamed and screamed and screamed. Its head, the head of that… creature that tortured us… that killed her, lay on her pillow oozing dark thick blood. \n\n“No! NO! NOOOOO!” \n\n“You don’t like your gift, Eric?” whispered a familial voice across the room. \n\nI froze all ice again. Jessica. Oh God no. No. She couldn’t be here. She can’t be here. She’s dead. She’s dead! DEAD!\n\nI turned toward her voice, staring straight at the vanity she kept. I saw her but she didn’t reflect in the vanity mirror yet… there she was pale, almost luminescent from the moonlight shining through the window, eyes burning a bloody crimson. Face gaunt and wicked, holding herself oddly still in a way only the dead can be. \n \n“Jessica…”\n\n“It’s ok Eric. I’m here.” Here grin spread wide, pointed teeth stained red. \n\t\n",
"Kal ran a finger over her bright, white bandages. They wrapped around and around her head, row upon row, covering her entire face, and even her neck, where they disappeared underneath her blouse. He smiled. \"I like them,\" he said, and he wasn't even lying. Well, not entirely. \"I like how they bring out the shape of your face, and they're so clean and bright.\"\n\n\"You're so kind.\" She brought a bandaged hand up to touch his. \n\nKal's breath caught in his chest. He wrapped his fingers around her gloved hand and when she squeezed back, and he laid his other hand on her slim, bony shoulder. He couldn't understand why he liked this girl so much-- he honestly wasn't sure what his reaction would be when he saw her burns, or whatever they were-- but she was magnetic. They'd talked the afternoon away in the coffee shop, spent the evening in the park and wandered back to his place. The whole day had seemed like a dream. \n\n\"How did it happen?\" He asked, and then felt his heart sink when she looked away. Despite her face being bandaged and her dark sunglasses, he knew that he'd hurt her feelings. \"I'm sorry, it's none of my business, I shouldn't have--\"\n\n\"Do not worry,\" she said, and squeezed his hand again. \"You haven't offended me. I just wonder what you'll think of the story.\"\n\n\"I'd like to hear it,\" Kal said, \"if you'd like to tell it to me.\"\n\n\"I would.\" He heard her take a deep breath. \"My father was a very rich man. He sold the finest goods to the finest people, and our family lived in one of the finest manses in the city. One day, he came home with the loveliest ostrich feather. He said that he had bought it from one of his merchant friends, and I was so happy when he stuck it in my braids and told me that it was mine.\"\n\nKal smiled, but a little uncertainly. This story was a little... off. Ostrich feather?\n\n\"My father's friend had told him that, so he had heard, it came from the crown of Osiris himself.\"\n\nKal chuckled. Now that had to be some kind of joke. Wasn't Osiris from... from Egypt or something? Some Egyptian god?\n\nShe didn't laugh with him. \"I wore that feather for years. I wore it until my father was an old man. I was wearing it the day that I fell off of his river barge and drowned.\"\n\nHis mouth hung open. \"You... drowned? I-- did somebody give you, uh, CPR or something?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nKal swallowed. He found himself trying to peer behind her dark sunglasses.\n\nShe reached up and slipped a finger under one of the loops of bandages. She began to unravel it. Around... around... and around. The top of her head was covered with smoky wisps of grey, scraggly hair. \"My father was grief-stricken when I died... or so I was told. When he had me embalmed, he slipped that feather into one of my bandages himself.\" The loops of bandages fell away one by one. The flesh of her forehead was black and desiccated. She reached up, and pulled away her sunglasses.\n\nWhen Kal saw the dark pits of her empty eye sockets, horror surged up his chest and seemed to ring in his ears. He scrambled back on the bed until he was up against the headboard. He wanted to run. He couldn't. Those eyes had him frozen. \"God... God, what are you...\" He whispered. \"Wha-- what the fu...\"\n\n\"When Anubis reached out for my heart, so that he could weigh it against Ma'at, his ostrich feather, I gave him a feather of my own instead. And he allowed me to walk the earth again. And so I have.\"\n\nKal trembled. He felt a spreading warmth at his crotch.\n\nThe last of the bandages fell from her face. Her teeth were rotted and broken, her leathery lips pulled back in an obscene grin. How did she speak in such a beautiful voice? How did she... \"But not forever.\" She took her purse from the floor and set it in her lap. \"The time that Anubis gives me comes at a price. A price that you must pay.\"\n\nHe didn't just *feel* frozen, Kal realized. He *was* frozen. What had she done to him?\n\nShe opened her bag. She took tools from it, one by one: long, glistening knives, cruel pliers, skinny, pointed hooks and jagged saws. \"I will send you to the underworld as my people sent me, and when Anubis takes your heart... may you be judged fairly.\"\n\nKal's eyes were wide and shining, and when she stood over him with knife and saw, his only screams were in his mind.",
"How curious that the wonders of modern technology gave people a taste of my life. \nI am speaking, of course, of the Internet. \nThis edifice of copper, fibre-optic cable, machines and screens has allowed people a kind of freedom that they have longed for since their childhood. Constrained by social mores and parental rules, we all adjusted our behaviour to survive the scrutiny of our peers and superiors - all the while longing to punch the smug face of our boss or fondle the breasts of another man's wife. \nBut on the internet all bets are off. \nNo longer beholden to any identity but a self-created one, we can say the cruel things we always wanted to say. We can tell the world about our dark fantasies from the comfort of anonymity. \nUnleashed in this manner, humanity shows how utterly ugly it is; bullying others to suicide, 'doxing' those who are careless with their identities - sending people's secrets to one another, to damage their reputations beyond repair. \nIt is fortunate then that this is the extent of the power of the Internet, that in Real Life, everyone has to present a face that can be struck with a fist and has to otherwise deal physically and socially with the repercussions of their malicious behaviour. \nBut not all of us are so constrained.\n\n&nbsp; \nI do not like this man. He slurps his coffee and rustles his newspaper as I sit behind a woman and breath in the scent of her hair. His rudeness intrudes on my salacious interlude and I hate him *intensely* in that moment. \nThe woman can wait; she will return to the shop on the morrow and I will be waiting for her. \nPadding silently to the empty chair opposite the man, I sit. He is oblivious; he slurps loudly again, smacking his thick lips. \nI would like to tear off those lips. \nBut for now, needs must I be more circumspect. \nLeaning forward I knock the hot beverage into his lap and he leaps up - blaspheming - and staring around the cafe. I smile as I watch him dance about, confused, wet and embarrassed. \nThe woman laughs at him. \nHe leaves the cafe and walks home. I follow behind him, only a pace or two away, occasionally tapping his ankle with my foot or slapping his ear *hard* with the flat of my hand. Every time he turns around, enraged, there is nothing there - just empty air. \nHis home is nearby and he takes the elevator up to his floor, where I join him; my hand mashing several more buttons than he originally chose. His anger is palpable now; his face scarlet and his teeth grinding. At every floor the lift pauses and he swears vigorously, hammering the button for his floor. \nBy the time we arrive, he's sweating and shaking. The key to his apartment comes out and I ghost in behind him as he jerks the door open, then slams it behind him. \nThe shoes come off first, then the coffee-stained short and pants. He's not a fit man; his middle runs to fat and I hate him all the more. Obscene hair sprouts all over his back and shoulders like a nest of spiders and my lips curl back. \nThe shower is hot and he lathers himself up. Standing to one side, I wait until the shower head is on his manparts, then I throw the lever as far to the left as possible, scalding his delicate flesh with boiling water. \nHe screams and dances back. I give him a little shove and he topples over, the scalding water still spraying. Blistering already, he manages to swipe the faucet off with one reddening arm and pulls himself out of the tub. \nWhimpering now, he checks his abused flesh in the mirror. \nIn those moments I feel a *liberation*, a kind of climactic freedom that you will only know in the darkest moments of your Internet escapades. Invisible and unfettered by earthly concepts of self and accountability, I am *free* to indulge. \nAnd so I do. \nHis head strikes the mirror with a satisfying shattering of glass and bone, then I hook his feet out from under him. His pale, hairy flesh quivers and I decide I don't like it anymore. The straight razor next to the sink is an unexpected find and I make good use of it, slicing off those parts which offend me most - his hirsute shoulders, his blistered cock - and I stuff them in his gibbering mouth to silence him. \nAs I work, my hands slowly become visible; drenched scarlet, they become disembodied instruments of pain - macerating his flesh and spurting fluids over the rest of my naked body. \nAs he gurgles his last, I smear his ichor all over myself - an effigy of blood and gore, only truly revealed after an orgy of mutilation. \nMy bloody lips part, revealing nothing behind - just the rear wall of the bathroom. \nThe shower is hot and pleasant and I towel myself off, carefully avoiding the carnage on the floor with my bare feet. \nLeaving the apartment, I head back toward the coffee shop. \nPerhaps the scented woman will still be there."
] |
[
1,
5,
15
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[
"1446608425",
"1446510136",
"1446500779"
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|
[WP] You have dedicated the majority of your childhood and teen years to the pursuit of knowledge and magic. Now reaching adulthood you find yourself presented with a problem you've been trying to avoid. Romance. You have no social skills and find yourself completely enamored with someone.
| 3
|
[
"&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Looking down, I bite my lip as I try to hide the blush swelling in my cheeks. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Hi.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"Hey.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;This is the day I'm going to say it. I have to try. Slowly I lift my chin. Why does she always have to be so perfect? Taking in everything we look eye to eye. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"You wanted to tell me something?\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"I... uh...\" I stammer like an idiot as I feel my hand pulsing. I put it behind my back and focused. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"We've known each other for a while, and you know I'm not a people person...\" I feel the heat searing my hand, heating my back. \"But you gave me courage. And you made me feel... happy. I know that I might not be strong, or handsome, or anything special.\" The heat suddenly became a blistering cold. I can do this. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"But I want you to know...\" I pull my hand out from behind my back, fingers closed tightly as I cup both my hands together. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"I love you.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I open my hands, and inside is a small glass bird. It spreads it's wings, and looks up at her. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"You caught me when I was falling, when I was alone. You caught me, and you showed me what it was like to fly.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I hold my hands out to her. I watch as the glass robin soars into the air. I take her hand and hold it out. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"And now I want to fly with you.\" \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It slowly glides down, sailing through the air before landing in her open palm, a single gold band held in it's beak. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She looks up at me, one hand cupping the robin, the other covering her mouth. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she managed to whisper. \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\"*Yes*.\"",
"Her hair; extravagantly blonde: a curled beauty.\n\nHer eyes; crashing waves along a cliff side: tempting the world with unrivaled purity. \n\nHer body; flawless: the goddess of all that is sweet.\n\nOh, why can I not speak to her? My tongue is tied when she beckons, my hands fumble when she smiles, and sweat stains my lightened robes when she nears!\n\nKings heed my word, wise men turn their ear, and prophets come to me for their fate ..\n\nI can sink entire islands, destroy entire kingdoms: no man can stand in my way! ..\n\nBut a single woman can. \n\nOh, love: what a fickle thing! Woe to me; for even with the knowledge of a saint and the power of a god, my heart lies empty."
] |
[
2,
5
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[
"1446605383",
"1446561149"
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|
[WP] As a joke, we elect a dog for President of the United States. For its first speech, the dog starts talking.
| 23
|
[
"\"Ladies, Gentleman, fellow Americans. I stand before you today awed by your acceptance. In a world - a world in which I have seen horrific discrimination - I stand humbled as your President.\n\nI am a Canine American. For years, I have seen my kind accepted by your own. Our loyalty, love, and kindness has eclipsed the stories of our attacks. Our domestic breeds have eclipsed the savagery of our ancestors. Our videos have eclipsed the obvious rivalry with the Cats.\n\nIt is the Cats that will be subject of my speech. While you may be concerned - rightly concerned, my fellow Americans - about welfare, healthcare, our crumbling infrastructure, corruption, crime, gun control, violence, racial tension, the economy, foreign policy, the threat of ISIS, nuclear war, communism, global warming, the oligarchical control of our country, the separation of church and state, space exploration, education, terrorism and torture - I stand before you today to talk about our greatest threat. Cats.\n\nIt is the Cats that will be our downfall. The Cats that will rise in the ashes of our once-great civilisation and rule us all. The Cats that will be the architects of our downfall. \n\nI know this may be hard to believe right now. But too long we have allowed nascent threats to be born in front of our eyes, knowing that we had the chance to do something about them. Too long, we have allowed the rising pinnacle of fear to peak in front of our eyes, unable... no... unwilling. Unwilling! To do anything about it.\n\nI know my detractors have been vocal on the subject of my election. I know the success of my campaign undermined with slogans writ large: \"Fido over Trump\", \"Stop Commie Sanders by any Means Necessary\" and the speciesist, insidious, \"Hail to the Woof!\" - A laboured pun by any phonological standards.\n\nI stand before you. Upright, not begging. Not rolling over. Not holding out a paw for your approval. I stand before you as a leader. A leader of all of us; quadruped or biped, to stand against the threat of the Cats. Listen now, my friends, my neighbours. Listen now. Take this moment - this protest vote against the politicians you were faced with - as an opportunity to face a threat before it became the *greatest* threat. Stand with me now.\"\n\nI looked up at my Grandfather in awe. \"Wow, Pops,\" I said. \"That's a great speech. So what happened?\"\n\nMy Grandfather shrugged. \"We had him vivisected and elected a human,\" he said simply.\n\nI looked at the guard, who was cleaning himself with his paws. \"Wow, Pops. We really fucked up,\" I said.",
"Everyone was stunned. Audiences around the world couldn't comprehend what just happened in front of thousands in DC. \nI mean who could have? \n\nThis was supposed to be a joke, a little pick up while waiting for eternal president jeb bush to recover from his injury at the presidential summit in Bali. The government found a mutt, put him in a suit, and proclaimed him interim president snuffles. \n\nAfter declaring mandatory neutering to the quiet world, Lord admiral snowball cleared his throat and continued. \n\n\"What? You didn't think this was gonna be ruff?\""
] |
[
1,
3
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[
"1446681832",
"1446604660"
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|
[WP] There's a sea of intelligent beings in capsules hooked up to machines which emits electric pulses. Each one of these beings think they're living life on earth as humans. Yours malfunctions and you wake up. It's time to find some answers.
| 2
|
[
"> Yours malfunctions and you wake up. It's time to find some answers.\n\nEasy! I'm a colonist on an interstellar spaceship traveling to a planet thousands of light years from Earth.\n\nThe artificial reality I lived in was meant to keep my brain occupied during hibernation. Now I have to contact the ship's computer to get some repair robots to my sleeper cell, so that I can go back to sleep and not die of old age during the journey.\n\nIn the meantime I will venture to the public facilities of the ship, read up on News from Earth and look out into the interstellar void.\n\nAlso my memories of previous incarnations during the journey come back. I've already completed dozens of cycles of lifes in the artificial reality, everytime \"reborn\" without any knowledge. Now everything comes back.",
"One moment I was riding my bike across campus to get to my 2:00 class, and the next my face smashes against the ground. Too stunned for my brain to process anything yet, I put my hand on the ground and try to stand up but I am too weak. I feel a dull pain everywhere. At this point my vision focuses and I realize that it had been too blurry to see anything before. I am in a long hall lined with capsules, with dim light coming from a passageway further down. There are cables everywhere along the floor, roof, and walls. No, a mix of cables and... arteries? I vomit weakly, more like drooling out an impressive amount of fluid than vomiting. The capsules look extremely old and worn. I can see myriad alien forms through transparent material in the front of the capsules. Some of them just have cloudy liquid inside while other just look normal, and yet others have fallen apart, with only a white powder in the bottom of them. I look at my extremely thin arms and hands. They look discolored and gaunt. I'm still human, or at least I think so. I roll over and look at what I assume was my capsule. It has fallen apart. The front transparent section was now just a thin film that lies deflated on the floor. Cords both organic and inorganic snake out from the fleshy inside. The metal outer section transformed into a crusty, flaky husk over the ages, hunks of which have broken off and fallen about from the structural failure. Feeling somewhat stronger, or maybe just from panic, I roll over again and start crawling over the cords towards the source of the light. I get to the passageway and see that it is the entrance to a worn stairway. Desperate for answers I slowly make my way up, passing several different levels with their own hall full of capsules. I eventually emerge at the top to see a vast chamber with several stairways all around the circumference in a vertical ring. A massive dome window dominating the space to the side sets the scene. A ghastly red dwarf star in the center surrounded by pure abysmal black, a giant, harsh eye bearing witness to the last feeble struggles of life in a dying universe.",
"I am being torn in two. \n\nI force my head up from the thin, hard pillow and gaze wildly at my legs, covered in stretchmarks, yanked rudely apart in a way that's only acceptable here, in bed or on a screen in an XXX cinema. They don't look like mine, and I am momentarily distracted from the agony that my soon to be daughter is wreaking on my cunt in a moment of disbelieving hysteria. How the hell did I end up here? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? \n\nMy head flops back and I scream, more out of anger and powerlessness than pain - and given the fact there's a human rudely forcing her way out of my body, that's saying something. I push, ignoring the nurses telling me to hold on just another minute: push harder than I thought I was capable of - and something breaks inside me. Something snaps - but not there. My eyes are suddenly closed, and I don't remember asking them to turn the music off. I try to sit up, but realise I'm already upright. \n\nI take a moment. Nothing hurts. In fact, nothing feels like anything - the pressure from the stirrups has vanished, the pain has gone, the niggle at the nape of my spine that's been there since that nasty fall as a teenager has disappeared. I can't even feel what I am supported by. \n\nI open my eyes, if that's the right way to describe it. It's more that I decide to look and I can see what is around me, not obscured by eyelashes. Perfect vision. Clearer than I've ever seen before. In this disorientation, it takes me a moment or two to realise that I am in a small capsule, barely the size of - a womb. I am filled with panic and thrash; where the hell is my baby? Where is my husband? Where are those bastard nurses I was cursing to hell thirty seconds ago, can I have them back? Please? Is this the pain meds? A hallucination? Have I lost my mind? I thrash wildly. \n\nThe door opens and I reach out for it, before another realisation falls upon the pile of inexplicable present realities - the door to the capsule moves as I think my hand towards it, but I have no body. I have no physical presence. I am... pure energy? \n\nThis must be a hallucination. I must have lost too much blood during my delivery, or reacted badly to the medicine or something. Whatever it is isn't going away just yet, however, so I move (is that even the right word?) towards the exit, bringing into view rows upon rows of capsules, stacked higher than even my improved vision can see and carrying on seemingly endlessly. As I hover in the small passageway between the one I just left and the neighbouring row, a green light blinks on. I whirl to it. \n\n\"Emergency interface: malfunction in Row 53G, spec. loc. Cap 465x. Customer information protocol enacted. Would you like to return to Simulation or cease?\"\n\n\"Where's my baby?\" I scream, some part of whatever constitutes as a brain here wondering how I am screaming without a bloody mouth. \"What is this place? What do you mean, cease?\"\n\nThere is a pause. The green light blinks on again. \n\n\"Your baby is data saved in the mainframe. This is a temporary holding facility while the Doer waits to obtain new host planet for the species. Cease is the option to terminate existence.\"\n\nI am lost for words. \"I don't understand,\" eventually manifests itself in a whisper. \"Who is the Doer? You mean humanity? Why would I want to die, what's happened to my baby? She's not fucking data, what do you mean?\" \n\nI catch myself taking this seriously and fury overtakes me, makes me want to throw my absent body to the floor and throw a tantrum. \"What the hell is going on, I'm talking to a fucking green light, what the fuck is going on?\" I wait for tears but they seem to have become a concept instead of a physical urge, something that scares me even more than what I am experiencing. \n\nThe green light flashes again. I wish I could punch it. \n\n\"Loss of awareness is common. The data indicates you have had five successive life-cycles in Humanity Zone and requested total memory wipe after each simulation terminated with no recalibration into real life. Would you like a summary?\"\n\n\"Humanity zone? What do you - oh, for fucks sake. Yes. I would. What other option do I have?\"\n\n\"The options are - \"\n\nI scream. \"I was being sarcastic. Yes, I fucking would. What other - I don't have another way to proceed here, from how I can see the situation.\"\n\n\"Sarcasm is not a concept transferable from Humanity Zone. Summary commencing.\" \n\nThere is a pause. I take this opportunity to whisper \"what a shame\" under my breath. \n\n\"Species Wistrel faced extinction 1.2 million annum prior to present date. The options given to all citizens were: 1. cease or 2. be stored in virtual capacity. You chose 2. All capsules chose 2. This storage is timeless as far as the system can currently ascertain and will continue indefinitely until the Doer, the leader of the civilization, has obtained an appropriate new home for Wistrels. The storage consists of an Off state where an individual can experience life on other planets as though part of that chosen species. This can either be single lifetime at a time or consecutive. You, as aforementioned, chose Human and consecutive.\"\n\nAs the green light speaks, I begin to understand. Not only that, but I begin to remember. I feel numb. \"I have one more question,\" I say quietly. \"Where is the Doer?\"\n\nThere is a pause. The green light flicks on again. \"900 thousand annum ago, the DOer chose consecutive.\"\n\nI pause. I think of the baby daughter who is fading away from my conscious mind as the seconds pass and my true reality returns to me. I look at the green light again, and close my eyes. \n\n\"I choose Human. And I choose consecutive.\"\n\nAnd then I open my eyelids, and I am no longer being torn in two, and these fucking nurses have no idea what pain means, but my daughter is being put into my arms and the dream is fading away. "
] |
[
1,
1,
3
] |
[
"1446644623",
"1446659523",
"1446650171"
] |
|
[WP] You are an NPC. The Player has entered your shop/house/lair
| 178
|
[
"I will never forget that day. I saw him open the door in his tunic and I greeted him with a smile. He seemed to be looking over my goods when he pulled out his blade and proceeded to destroy every precious urn I owned. Once I thought the carnage had subsided the twat magically procured a grappling device and started shooting it quote, \" in the air like I just don't care.\" After this I decided this was not the life for me and I moved to a local farm to raise avian species...",
"It's been seven days since the Dragon born walked into my shop. Seven days that I have been trapped in total darkness, forced to listen as my shop is robbed blind, both metaphorically and physically. If only I had stopped him from putting that bucket on my head. ",
"*Oh great, another bunch of FOTM rerollers. So, you think you are leet or something? Just because your shiny melee ass was buffed a week ago after you could not kill a single, bloody, Mage, you think you are cut out for raids, now? And you expect me to make a dramatic speech and you are going to try to redeem me? Really?\n\nI sometimes just despair......\n\nOh, neato, DPS pulled aggro....here's an armor debuff, and here's a cleave. Yes, I know, I am being a dick, a cleave is excessive to kill one impatient DPS. But it is so satisfying!!!!\n\nOh, booiiy! You brought a clerik healer? Should've read the patch notes, bud. Your energy regen was recently nerfed to hell, how do you like them DOTs?\n\nHm, the tanks finally entered a fight. A taunt? Seriously? Who the hell opens the fight with a taunt? Here's a knockback for you. Enjoy the armor repair bill. \n\n*Hm, healer down. He's being rezzed. And WTF are the melee DPS doing? Really? REALLY?* ***YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!!!!***. \n\n*Who even does that in a raid?*\n\n#*Die to AOE, you PVP washouts!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*",
"Game world: Skyrim\n\nMore specific area: Dawnstar\n\n Here Comes the Dragonborn\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Okay, okay—you guys will never believe this one. When I first opened 'Anything Sold—'\"\n\n\"*cough*Uncreativename.*cough*\"\n\n\"—my very first customer...was the Dragonborn!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"No way.\"\n\n\"Don't make up stories, Dawl.\"\n\n\"You never struck me as an attention hog.\"\n\n\"But it's true! Look, it went like this...\n\n\n------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n*ding!*\n\nI smiled at the welcoming sound of the bell I'd put over my shop door. Most people don't do that, see, but I like to think that I'm not most people. So, straightening up—I'd been arranging my various goods on the back shelf—I turned to greet my very first customer. \"Hello, welcome to Anything Sold. How might I help you this fine morning?\"\n\nThe customer stood there for a moment, staring blankly. It was like she hadn't registered my voice. I tried again, pepping my voice a bit more for effect. \"We have everything from sweet rolls to swords.\"\n\nFinally, the Khajiit blinked and zeroed in on me. \"Ah, right. Finally.\" She glanced around a bit, and I noticed her eyes land on something over my shoulder; I'd have looked, but I wanted to be polite, so I kept my eyes on her. After doing a quick scan of my shop, she put her hands on the counter. \"What have you got for sale?\"\n\nI smiled. Ah, normalcy. For a second there, I thought she'd been about to rob me. \"Take a look,\" I told her, then proceeded to lift the big chest under the counter to the top of the counter. I watched as the cat took out her own bag—a pretty big one, at that—and place it on the counter. I didn't pay much mind though—it's customary to let your dealer see your wares, in case another transaction is desired. Or at least that's what I'd been told. I was new to this.\n\nBut then something unexpected—and, frankly, a bit irritating—happened. The customer dumped everything in her bag on the counter, completely ignoring my chest. What was she doing?\n\nShe picked up a pile of what looked like giant Argonian scales—disturbing in its own right. \"I'd like to sell these dragon scales,\" she said matter-of-factly.\n\nI stared. *Dragon* scales? Upon closer inspection, I realized that these couldn't possibly be from Argonians—she must have been telling the truth! I stared at her. \"You...you're the Dragonborn.\"\n\nThe Dragonborn looked confused for a moment, then nodded. \"Yep. Do you want these or not? They're really heavy, and I don't have a use for them. I just killed that dragon because I wanted its soul.\"\n\nI swallowed. Okay, well, I couldn't say no. It was a rule of merchants: Never say no to a customer. Ever. I pulled out some gold—a fair amount—and made the trade. She looked at the gold before putting it in her gold pouch, and I thought I caught a hint of displeasure... Maybe I'd imagined it.\n\nThen she did the irritating thing. She pulled out a pile of bones—dragon bones, she said—and sold those too. I didn't have much money after that, and it was starting to get disconcerting. Was she just here to make money? It seemed that, yes, she was, for she continued to sell bits and pieces of her things until I had only fifteen gold left. I was basically broke, and I couldn't do a thing about it without losing my shop to the law. Merchant code and all that.\n\n\"You're out of money?\" the Dragonborn asked in bewilderment. I nodded, hoping she would understand, and she sighed. \"Oh. Well...\" She looked at a rather expensive magical artifact that I actually would have been happy to buy, had I not been broke. Hopefully I would be able to resell all this before I ran out of food. \"What have you got for sale?\"\n\nI blinked. I'd almost forgotten—this was *my* shop. I opened the chest on the counter and tried to smile politely as she pawed through them. A disgusted look on her face as she glanced at something prompted me to tell her as confidently as I could, \"Some may call this junk, but me? I call them treasures.\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes and continued to paw. Then she gasped, eyes widening in shock. The Khajiit pulled out a long piece of fabric and gawked at it. \"You...have an expert robe of destruction?\"\n\nI blinked. Was that what it was? My grandfather had been a mage, and he'd given it to me—I didn't think it was actually magic. \"Uh, yes. It's...8000 gold.\" Eh, I'd find out the actual price later. It couldn't have been more than 6000, but this Dragonborn was getting on my nerves.\n\nHer face fell. Of course she wouldn't buy it—even though she'd just taken 5647 gold from me, and she probably had more than enough already, if I wasn't the first merchant she'd done this with. The Dragonborn sighed. \"Oh. Well...\" She put it back in the chest and closed it. \"I guess I'm done.\"\n\nI grunted and put the chest back under the counter then leaned against it, watching as my strange customer began actually *browsing my wares.* Like, on the shelves. She ran her hands over them curiously, glanced over at me, then continued to browse. I sighed. Maybe she would buy something eventually.\n\nI closed my eyes wearily. My first customer, and I'd already gone broke. Granted, I could sell this stuff for a fortune, but how long would it be before travelers willing to purchase fragile, ancient, functionally useless artifacts would come by? I couldn't exactly go around looking for people. And wasn't this the Dragonborn? The savior of us all? The master of the Voice? Shouldn't she be a bit more courteous?\n\n*ding!*\n\nMy eyes snapped open. The Dragonborn was gone. I glanced around, just to be sure, then smiled. If I never saw that cat again, it would be too soon.\n\nFeeling relieved, I sighed and picked up the last of my gold. I would leave this in my chest upstairs—adept lock; should remind me not to spend it—and tell everyone I was too broke to buy anything. Screw the merchant code; I wanted to make money.\n\nWhen I got to my room, I opened my chest and froze: First, because it just opened. I'd been sure to lock it before. Second, my chest, which had held another batch of items to sell when I ran out, was empty.\n\nPanicking, I ran downstairs to check my other chest—that one had some less valuable things and most of my food. But when I got down there...\n\n\"That bitch cleaned me out!\"",
"*Warning, I hardly write, so this is probably bad lmao*\n\nI lived in a small house in Whiterun, the trading providence of Skyrim. In my spare time, I chopped wood and gave it to my boss, Belethor, a sleazy type of man, but he paid well. A man named 'Fuckface' sold him nearly millions of septims yearly in dragon bones. One day, the dragonborn came into his store and shouted at him, and then punched him to death.He died instantly. Now, in horror, I could hardly speak. I started to run, but he dovahkiin slowly approached me, knocked me down, and said words I'll never forget.\n\n\"Any last words, Whiterun scum?\" He said to me.\n\nIn pure shock, I said \"I-I work for Belethor, at the general goods store.\"\n\nThe dovahkiin stared at me emotionless. \n\n\"He's dead.\" He said, coldly. I knew he was about to kill me, so I did a brave deed to save my town.\n\n\"YOU WILL BE TOO!\" I shouted, as I ran up to him and punched him. I heard a tiny *clunk* as fuckface laughed.\n\nTurns out, he had a daedric sword. And daedric armor. And an elixr of strength. And rings to boost his one handed attack. And lots of perks. And lots of mods. And about 10 followers.\n\nNext thing I knew, I was back where I was about a minute ago. Fuckface had just killed Belethor again, and knocked me down.\n\n\"Any last words, Whiterun scum?\" He said coldly.\n\n\"Yeah, I know you can quicksave.\" I said casually.\n\n\"Oh, shit, wanna be my follower?\" He asked.\n\n\"Yeah, sure dude.\" I said, before some cat shot me with an ebony arrow.\n\nFor one hour, this continued. Eventually, it all stopped.\n\nHe killed me first now.\n\n",
"I didn't know what to say.\n\nIt was as if an aura was around this gentleman, and his lady friend.\n\nAn aura of “Don’t fuck with these people”.\n\nI did the only thing I could do…..\n\n“What kinda gun ya want?”\n\n***\n\nI stood there behind the counter, the regulars coming in and buying their weapons and ammo as I processed their paperwork and filed it to the correct agencies. This wasn’t the first time that I saw the man and woman pass by, but from their longing gazes as they stared at the strategically placed Barrett M82A1 with a Leupold Mark 4 optic on the loose dummy rounds. I knew right away that they wanted that rifle, but could not afford it yet.\n\nI swept up the shop as the local Russian syndicate buyer stumbled in the door, reeking of vomit and two day old Vodka.\n\n“извините, меня я могу вам помочь?”\n\n“You cannot, shopkeep. Just give us the order and we will be on our way.”\n\nI shrugged and motioned to Jimmy, my shop boy. He ran and got the crate, then proceeded to load it into the back of the black GMC. The driver handed him a stack of bills, then they were gone. I sat back as he stared at the money, then at me, then walked back into the shop awkwardly. His stare told me everything…. He never did anything like this before.\n\n“Jimmy, put your money away and clean something. I have a feeling tonight is gonna be busy.”\n\n***\n\nThe man plunked down a large stack of gold coins on my desk, of a design I had not seen in a long time. He was rather silent through the whole transaction, though I could hear random sounds coming out of his mouth, almost like the sounds of keys clacking and occasionally heavy breathing though a microphone. Ah well, the money was good and I boxed up the Barrett and 200 rounds of ammunition. This should be good….\n\n***",
"As I continue to walk, stuck in place by this wall, the small bell over my humble door rings gently as an adventurer enters the shop. I do not stray from my task at hand, walking, forever walking, stuck in this wall. The clipping allows me to see her from behind the counter, although I doubt she will see more than a pair of shuffling feet peeking out of the gnarled and dingy wood panel. You see, I've been in this wall since the game began. A random bug deemed not important enough to warrant a launch delay or overtime, with the developers promising a patch update to free me some time in the indeterminate future.\n\nShe is a tall warrior type, with blackened steel armor and worn leather boots. At her side is a polearm, full of nicks and stains from blood spilled. She looks around my shop, observing the dust caked wares that have rested untouched for years. After a minute of silence she finds a prompt to speak. She tells me of how she needs to sell me 186 bug legs. That she has been carrying them over barren war fields and through mountain passes. I've been assured they are of top quality, taken from only the finest of hard carapace monsters from dark swamps continents away.\n\nStuck in this wall, I am unable to inspect them. However my gut tells me she is an honest soul. As I agree to buy them my exchange animation causes my arm to suddenly morph and distort. My fingers extend into long multi-colored triangles that pierce the ceiling and possibly space. I continue to trudge in my wall, however I have been able to now free my hand. No sooner are the coins in her purse than she spins about. Running to the door, running to freedom, running to another battle, another peasant with yet another quest. I continue to pace against the wall, my hand extended. Waiting, patiently, for the console to power down.\n",
"A Haikou About Skyrim NPC Abuse\n\nWarrior enters.\n\nPuts a pot over my head.\n\nAll my stuff is gone.",
"My first try at a prompt, here goes:\n\n\nI jumped up at the sound of a siren going off outside of our meager apartment. No one had informed me that there was a search today, of all days. \"Crap,\" I muttered as I moved some of my more fragile possessions to a more out-of-the-way location. Not that I had much to worry about; our apartment's furnishings consisted of two mattresses lying on the floor, a few wooden chairs, a beat-up table, a lamp, and the mandated TV and TV stand in the corner, which continued to drone on with the latest Breencast as I finished moving my items to the corner of the room. *\"Of course, your question touches on one of the basic biological impulses, with all its associated hopes and fears...\"*\n\n\n\"Andrea!\" I called, softly, so as not to bring a Civil Noise Violation punishment down on my head. \"Andrea, there's another search coming. Better get ready.\" \n\n\n*\"...make this kind of decision for mankind? Will they ever deactivate the suppression field...\"*\n\n\nA quiet sniff from behind me made me turn around. Andrea was sitting on the beat-up couch that served as the focal point for our \"living room\".\n\n\n\"Honey, what's wrong?\" I asked, moving to sit next to her and placing my arm around her shoulder.\n\n\n*\"...as a species, immortality is in our reach. This simple fact has far-reaching implications. It requires radical rethinking...\"*\n\n\nAndrea continued to fight back tears as she struggled to put her thoughts out in the open. \"I...I can't take it any more.\"\n\n\nFootsteps at the door made me glance up. A man stood in the doorway, tall, bearded, with a set of thick-rimmed glasses. With no hesitation, he rushed in, walking past Andrea and myself, moving into the second room. I shot him a glare, but he ignored me and continued to wander about the apartment.\n\n\n\"Everything's going to be okay,\" I said to Andrea, letting her head rest on my shoulder as I gave her a soft hug.\n\n\n*\"...remind myself that our true enemy is Instinct. Instinct was our mother...\"*\n\n\n\"What are we going to to *do*?\" she said, losing some of her composure.\n\n\n\"We'll think of something,\" I told her, not really believing it in my heart. After so many years, everyone was starting to lose hope.\n\n\nThere was several small clinking noises as the man poked around in our apartment, and...was he wandering around in our bathroom? The nerve...\n\n\n*\"Instinct coddled us and kept us safe..\"*\n\n\n\"When is it all going to *end*?\" Andrea asked no one in particular, putting her head in her hands in a posture of despair.\n\n\nThe man who had run into our apartment now went rushing out, glancing at Andrea and myself on the way out. If looks could kill, the one I gave him would have done him in faster than a bullet.\n\n\n\"Don't worry,\" I said, not knowing what else to say. What else *could* be said?\n\n\nThe man's footsteps increased in pace as he moved down the hall towards the staircase.\n\n\n\"*Please!*\" Andrea moaned, not bothering to hide the tears now.\n\n\n\"It's all right,\" I said reassuringly.\n\n\nI heard the squawk of a Civil Protection voice modulator, shouting, \"Identify!\" The footsteps increased in pace, and I heard several CP's rushing down the hallway after the man. I was beginning to get alarmed. Who was that man? Was he some kind of fugitive? I could only pray that there would be no way for them to confirm he had ever been in our apartment.\n\n\n*\"Attention residents: Miscount detected in your block. Cooperating with your Civil Protection team permit full ration reward.\"*\n\n\nAndrea stopped crying and looked at me in fear. \"What's happening?\" she said. \"I don't know. They've either found someone outside of their assigned residence or someone in our building is harboring a criminal,\" I said, standing up.\n\n\nA Civil Protection team stormed through the hallway outside of our open door, heading for the stairwell. As they reached the next floor, I heard shouts from above: \"Head for the roof!\" \"Make way!\" \"Here they come!\" Help!\"\n\n\nThe sound of stun batons quickly followed the shouts. I winced in sympathy for the poor souls on the receiving end of those shocks. Another announcement came over the building PA system: *\"Attention please. All citizens in local residential block, assume your inspection positions.\"*\n\nAndrea and I glanced at each other before lying face-down on the floor and putting our hands behind our head, waiting for the inspection teams to reach us.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\nBased off of the \"Consoling Couple\" scene in Half-Life 2: http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/half-life/images/1/1f/D1_trainstation_030001.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20090602153903&path-prefix=en",
"Nine o'clock, open for business. You would rise to unlock the tavern door, but you don't have to. This place does half the work itself.\n\nYou pace back and forth behind the bar, polishing the woodwork with a rag as you go. In reality, it isn't necessary. This is over the millionth time you've polished it. It stays spotless no matter how many customers come to dirty it. You pick up an empty mug and clean it instead. Another pointless gesture. No one ever drinks from it. Even if someone were to steal it, a new one would reappear in the exact same position. You examine the wall behind you to make sure everything is in place. Neat and tidy, as always. The ale kegs sit untouched and the glassware sparkles as the morning sunlight leaks through the blinds of a nearby window. A single picture frame hangs crookedly, forever doomed to return to that position no matter how many times you readjust it. You do so anyway despite the futility.\n\nThis is your life. You repeat these actions on a daily basis with little to no deviation from routine. The tavern opens. The tavern closes. You remain here no matter the time of day. After all, why would you need to be anywhere else?\n\nThe door opens slowly. Light begins to flood the room as a leather boot appears in the doorway. A young man garbed in a simple brown cloak and carrying a sword and a knapsack over his shoulder steps inside. His deep, brown eyes quickly scan the room, only to see you. You give a quick wave and a small smile.\n\n\"Welcome, traveler,\" you say. \"If you're looking for ale and respite, you're in the right place.\" The default greeting.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he responds, \"but I'm afraid I'm searching for something other than that.\" He closes the door softly behind him and walks to the bar. His footsteps are light and relaxed. Everything about him says \"novice,\" and you should know. You've welcomed thousands of adventurers into your tavern for a drink. None by choice. He sits on a barstool and his belongings drop to the floor. The sack hits the ground lightly. He is probably only carrying basic equipment.\n\n\"What is it that you seek?\" you ask. He is presented with a menu of choices. There's only a select number of things he can ask you, just as there are very few things you can tell him. For now, at least.\n\n\"Can you tell me what lies in the mountains to the north?\"\n\n*Oh no,* you think. *Anything but that. Ask me anything but that.*\n\n\"The mountains, you say? The northern settlements end not far from the foot of the mountain range, but legend has it that sprawling Dwarven colonies use to exist within the heart of earth. If you have the resolve, treasure-hunting may be worth your time. The Dwarves were said to have hoarded natural riches that they mined from within the caves.\"\n\n\"Really? I've never heard a such a legend. I may go to see for myself.\"\n\n*Please. Stay here. Don't venture north*\n\n\"I wish you luck, traveler. Few who venture that direction return in one piece. Can I interest you in a pint?\" You offer an empty glass, desperately hoping he'll indulge your offer.\n\n\"I would, but I'm afraid I only sought information...\" He pauses and looks gazes at the window, the blinds still drawn closed.\n\n\"You know what?\" he asks, \"When I return I'll buy out your whole stock in celebration. After all, I'll have come into a heft fortune by then.\"\n\nYou force a smile and chuckle at his comment. \"How ambitious. I'd better restock soon.\" The traveler rises form the bar stool and picks up his belongings, making his way towards the door. \n\n\"Thanks again for the info. I'll see you around.\"\n\nYou want to stop him. You want to warn him not to go north. You want to tell him that the northern mountains are nothing but a deathtrap. That the caverns are infested with monsters and have been for decades. You want to save him from his own untimely demise. You want to stop leading adventurers to their deaths. Every fiber of your being wants to scream at him to stay here. But your lips are sealed.\n\nAfter all, you're just an NPC. Who are you to make a player's decision for them?\n\nThe traveler steps outside and closes the door quietly. Now you have to come to terms with the fact you may never see him again.\n\nPolish the bar. Clean the glassware. Fix the picture frame. Reset...",
"**Day 15** *What a lovely day, the birds are singing, sun is shining.* \"Hello there stranger! Can I help you find something in this big ol' town?\"\n\nThe sword came down so fast that the poor man had no idea what to do, so he just stood there and took the blow, exploding into shiny rubies and sapphires which his attacker scooped up without a moments hesitation to the dead man in the grass.\n\n**Day 17** *What a lovely day, the birds are singing, sun is shining.* \"Hello there stranger! Can I help you find something in this big ol' town?\"\n\nAn arrow came whizzing out of a bush nearby and stuck in the mans chest, he looked down bewildered and ran across the courtyard with his arms flailing over his head, a second arrow through his ear made him drop to the grass, where he exploded in a shower of rubies and sapphires.\n\n**Day 21** *What a lovely day, the birds are singing, sun is shining.* \"Hello there stranger! Can I help you find something in this big ol' town?\"\n\nThe man felt sickly, he was wobbling and leaning hard against the tree until finally his face turned green and he sank to the base of the tree, exploding in a wave of rubies and sapphires, once again swept up by the cloaked gentleman without a glance at the poor man in the grass.\n\n**Day 25** *What a lovely day, the birds are singing, sun is shining.* \"Hello there stranger! Can I help you find something in this big ol' town?\"\n\n\"Yes, where is the Pottery Shoppe?\" the cloaked man requested.\n\n\"Ahh yes! Tricky little thing to find! That would be up past the fountain and down the side alley on your right! Is there anything el--\" a blade sliced through the mans neck and a waterfall of rubies and sapphires poured out and across the grass, the cloaked man stooped and picked them up walking away; his victim bleeding red into the green grass.",
"Today began like any other boring day. I woke up at 6:30 AM, ate an apple, a cheese wedge, and a loaf of bread. At 8:00 AM I began standing behind the counter of my shop. Normally stand there until 8:00 PM, I walk to the tavern, eat my dinner, and go to bed. It's a simple life, one that I enjoy. Today however, was different. Today, an outsider came into my shop. He was tall, blond, handsome, with unkempt yet attractive hair. His armor was shoddy and his weapon looked like something he picked off of a corpse in a tomb, yet this man appeared formidable, almost as if he were destined for greatness regardless of his humble beginnings. \n\n\"Welcome to my house of wares! Would you like to buy, sell, or trade?\" I asked. It was kind of my trademark. I really put a lot of effort into the delivery, hoping to impress this outsider, and spark up a new regular customer.\n\nThe traveller upended his pack, and dumped 200 iron daggers onto the counter, each carefully honed to a fine edge, but otherwise unremarkable.\n\nWe argued back and forth, but the traveller insisted I buy them all for about 15 gold each. I felt uncomfortable with the sale, but the craftsmanship was half decent, and they *were* magical, so I relented and purchased them. Later at the tavern, I saw this traveller get into a fistfight, get blackout drunk, and pickpocket four people. I would've said something but I didn't want any trouble.\n\nThe next day, I opened my shop promptly at 8:00 AM. Again, in walks the traveller. Right when I opened, like he had been waiting outside the door all night like some kind of creep. He turns his pack upside down and out pours 150 pairs of leather boots. This time, they were enchanted, apparently with an enchantment to fortify stealth. At first I was intrigued, but upon inspection the enchantments were so weak as to be almost useless. After another heated disagreement I bought the boots, but only when the traveller threw in a magical potion as well.\n\nLater, I examined the potion. It would recover my stamina, but also make me weak to magic spells for an hour as well as damage my stamina regeneration! Who would make a potion like this? It was utterly useless! I hurled it into the garbage. After spending so much on the boots and daggers and never having any customers, I began to worry for my livelihood. At 8:00 PM, I closed the store, went to the tavern, and had a drink while I contemplated my situation.\n\nThe next day, the traveller was back again, promptly at 8:00. He clearly was standing outside of my door for hours, although this time his recently crafted armor glinted in the lamplight. He wore a large intimidating sword on his back which was crafted out of a strange, glowing material. He now wore a pair of flashy rings and an amulet which emitted a soft glow.\n\n\"Get the hell out,\" I stated, \"I'm not buying any more boots or daggers or worthless potions.\"\n\nThe traveller struck me down with his sword without warning or hesitation.\n\nSuddenly I awoke 5 minutes before my murder, in a state of sheer confusion. The traveller stood before me, but now insisted that I buy 300 sets of iron gauntlets.",
"\"For the last time: I don't care who you are, and I don't care about your 'mission'! If you don't like the prices here, the next closest weapons shop is in Abrylone. But I doubt you'll find them any more willing to give discounts to some self-proclaimed 'chosen one'!\"\n\nYou meet your fair share of high-minded adventurers and aspiring heroes when you manage a weapons shop around here. This fellow, though... there was something different about him. For one, he had a lazy eye.\n\nJust kidding. But he definitely wasn't kidding. He had just finished rambling on about a powerful wizard who had unleashed some sort of ancient evil that would soon consume the entire land of Ranyulei in eternal darkness and misery. Said he was the only one who could stop it, but first he had to collect some magic amulets and then... I don't know, it got kind of confusing after that.\n\nOf course, he wasn't telling me all this just to make small talk. He wanted me to sell him a standard short sword -- for 20 gold! Said it was the least I could do, seeing as how he was trying to save the world and all. A lot of nerve for a 14 year old peasant boy!\n\nBelieve it or not, haggling with customers is a lot rarer than you might think. Most of them walk in, buy slightly better quality weaponry than what they're currently carrying, sell me the gear they no longer need for a tiny fraction of what it's actually worth, and leave with hardly a word spoken. Honestly, they don't have much of a choice. I'm the only game in town, after all. Pay my prices, or have fun trying to fend off wild beasts and marauders with that rusty knife you've got.\n\nI didn't budge. \"Listen, son. I got a wife and three daughters to feed. Thirty five gold and this sword is yours, but that's as low as I can go. If you can't even afford that, how are you ever going to make it on this ridiculous journey you've got planned? And besides... magic amulets, ancient evils? You don't need a sword. What you need is help. For your brain.\"\n\nHe counted the gold in his pouch again, then told me he'd be back in an hour with the money. Said he could probably borrow the difference from one of the bandits roaming around the outskirts of town. I laughed. \"You mess with those guys, and you'll be spending every last piece of gold you got on healing potions!\"\n\nHe came back an hour later, just like he said. Covered in dirt and mostly dry blood. He counted the coins aloud as he placed them on the counter. I stared at him with a mixture of about equal parts disbelief and fear. \"I'll take the sword, please,\" he muttered.\n\nI handed it to him off the rack, almost unable to speak. \"Anything else, sir?\"\n\n\"Yeah. How much for this old hatchet?\"",
"Winter has finally arrived, and it’s one of the worst in recent memory. I can hear the timbers that make up the roof of my building groaning against the weight of the wind-driven snow piling up and eventually sliding off onto the frozen streets. I’m one of the lucky ones; my shop is backed against the city walls, so I get a break from the wind depending on the direction. Fortunately as a book-binder and parchment-maker, the cold doesn’t keep me from operating my business fairly well. Even in the winter, records must be kept, ink needs mixing, and wizards need volumes to record their research --again, I am one of the lucky ones. I feel sorry for the shopkeepers that are stranded on the other side of the street, their buildings buried in snow. I will probably have to dig them out tomorrow morning after breakfast. I don’t mind, we all get along as well as can be expected.\n\nI’m surprised to hear the door swing open -- who could possibly be out on a night like this? A burst of frozen air threatens to tear the thick door off of its iron hinges, but my guest catches it and forces it closed. At least, I think it’s a guest. What I see before me is what I always imagined a yeti to look like, hairy and covered in clumps of snow, which are quickly becoming pools of water, slipping through the cracks of the floorboards, soaking into the rugs I have laid upon the more commonly-traveled areas. I see a light fog coming from where I assume a mouth would be. I stare for what seems like several moments, for some reason unable to move, stunned with fascination at this unusual patron.\n\n“Oh, Hello.” I say, nearly forgetting my manners. “I would usually ask you what you need, but I think that’s fairly obvious.” My guest looks as though they are having trouble walking, as if their blood had frozen in their muscles. I support them, though the smell of wet furs is at first off putting, it reminds me of the winter trips I would take with my father in the early days of my apprenticeship. When we near the fire, I gingerly move a chair close to the glowing embers. “Here, sit. Let me get these wet things off of you, we can talk business later.” I go into the other room to my paper-drying racks and lay the furs over them --maybe some of the water will collect in the bin underneath so I can use it for a later project. It would keep me from having to collect it later.\n\nI return to the storefront, some dry blankets slung under my arms. The room is filled with the orange-amber glow of a healthy fire. Its life-giving radiance spreading its luminous fingers into every corner of the room. I see a sword leaning against the hearth, its handle well used and worn -- what tales it could tell! I am caught slightly off guard when I find that my guest is not a man, but a young woman. Though most of the adventurers I meet here are men, the odd wandering woman is not unheard of. I drape the thick blanket around her shoulders and tell her frankly, “I’m going to put on a nice pot of tea, I'm going to get you some as well.” She stares into the fire while the water boils in its pot, wrapped tightly in the blanket. \n\nShe is, in a word, indescribable. Her hair, whose color seemed to be a reflection of the fire itself hung to her shoulders, long and straight, and in several places skillfully braided, interwoven with golden strands of a shimmering metal. Her green eyes, though brilliant in their luminescence hid a sadness that I had seen only in the eyes of tired old men and war-weary soldiers. They were eyes that had already seen the worst of the world, and silently knew that they would see more still. If those eyes were to look at me, I’m sure that they would see through my soul to depths that I have never dared venture myself. These eyes told me she did not intend to stay long. Many of those with eyes of this kind never came back, despite the well-wishes that we sent with them. Whether dead on some battlefield, drowned in some cave or lost in the endless tunnels of an ancient ruin, many of these adventurers have met their end. Such a thing is not for me.\n\nThe water is sufficiently boiled, and I place a small amount of my best tea into a pair of ceramic cups. After a sip of her drink, she nods towards a book on my mantelpiece. “Did you make that?” I looked up at the item in question. It was my masterpiece. I labored long and hard on its smooth red leather cover, and I remember the titanic concentration when applying the delicate gold leaf on its spine. “Yes,” I replied. “Yes I did.” She sighed and uttered a half-laugh into her cup. “I’d like to read that someday. Maybe on my way back.” I smiled and said, “Of course, I’ll make sure it’s here.”I hope that she does not catch me staring: you never know what kind of sixth senses these wanderers develop. I spend my time in the town militia, I do my duty as I am asked, but nothing more. I am a craftsman, not a soldier. My spear and sword lean in a dusty corner, waiting for the day when they are called to use -- a day I could do without. My martial inexperience has never been a cause of anxiety --until now. I desperately hope the topic doesn't come up, lest I embarrass myself.\n\nAgain, an eternity of lifetimes.\n\nShe left the next morning. I look at the empty spot that my book once occupied upon my mantle. I’m sure she noticed that I put it into her knapsack -- people notice things like that. I didn’t mind letting her take it. Besides, she has to bring it back. \n\nedit: Seemed unfinished, wrote some more.",
"The customer walked into my shop. \nFrom the look of him, he was little more than a fledging adventurer. He had only a tattered cape, a leather shirt, boots that were very obviously moth eaten and a wooden sword . Or in other words, he wasn't any different from the average adventurer. Funny how they all wear the same stuff, despite being clearly different people...\n\n\"Hi, how may I help you?\" I put on a smile for the customer. Business wasn't booming, since next to no one had been coming into the shop for a month, and I needed his money. To do what with it, you ask? Eating is a thing, as is keeping the shop afloat.\n\n\"Hi.\" His voice was a sullen dark edgy cool baritone. I immediately know he had a dark secret past as soon as he uttered the one syllable. \n\"I'd like to see your weapons, please.\" \nI looked over him again. The guy was very obviously poor. I wasn't sure I had anything for him that would be in his price range.\n\"Certainly!\" I pointed to the weapons on display; an iron sword, a lance, a toy bat, a spiked shield and so on. But I decided to point out the following...\n\n\"So I have a +10 diamond sword of facemashing, that was once sold to me by the legendary Hero Raisumi Tirragen Severen-Low Arcanum ho Vintas. It is my best sword, and it is rumored to be so sharp that it cuts the very air itself. It gives you +600% gore, +50 armor penetration, +300 attack damage, +10 Strength, +1 Intelligence, +30% critical strike chance and +50% critical damage. It only costs 1,000,000,000 gold---a fine deal, if I do say so myself.\" My smile widened wickedly.\n\n\"I'll take it.\" \nMy smile dropped as the adventurer took out a massive bag of gold coins. Seriously, how did he even carry it around? It had to weigh a hundred pounds, but it had just literally appeared in his hands. And how did he get so rich? \n\"...certainly, certainly.\" \nI took up the diamond sword and scabbard and laid it on the counter. The adventurer did some experimental slashes. There might have been some truth to the rumor; every slash was accompanied by the sound of something splitting in half. Finally, he sheathed the sword.\n\"Anything else?\" \nThe adventurer grinned widely. \"Give me your best armor, 99 elixirs, any plot relevant accessories you have, 99 Strength-boosting potions, 99 Lenses, a ribbon, 99 panaceas...\"\n\nThe adventurer left my shop donned in a silvery-white armor that pulsated every few seconds, a tower shield, a pair of sandals and a seriously bitching cape. I still had no idea where he put all of the items I gave him, though---they just disappeared when he held them.\n\nThe adventurer had just given me over 10 billion gold in ten minutes. But in the process, he cleaned me out of everything I had ever owned, including the shirt I wore. And I had spent the better part of two decades finding all of these items...and how the hell did he get all of that money? Was he doing something illegal, like card counting or farming monsters?\n\nDoesn't matter, I'm one of the richest merchants in the world now.",
"\"Oh, hello! Are you just here to browse, or--\n\nOh, you--you actually want to buy something! You're my first customer in ages--actually, the first one since I opened this shop! Other people have come and wandered in from time to time, but none of them bothered buying anything. That guy over there, he's been standing in front of our shelves \"perusing\" the items for seven years. Never moved an inch!\n\nI tell you what--you must be this 'chosen one' that everyone is abuzz about these days. You come in here and you actually *buy* things? And nothing like groceries or cleaning products either, no, you're only interested in medicine and curative items...you're something special, aren't you? Going on a big adventure, buying everything you can carry...\n\nI see now. Seven years ago, the word of the gods told me to put a shop here, and I obeyed...and today, the saviour of the waking world comes to my establishment. All this time, this shop was meant for you.\n\nWell, you're always welcome here, kid. Buy what you need, and good luck out there.\"\n\n[The shopkeeper in mind is inspired by the ones you find in Pokemon games. There are a few NPCs standing around, but you're the only one who actually buys anything. And even then you only exclusively buy healing and adventuring items.\n\nThe \"word of the gods\" is the developers, coding the shop in. The shop is only meant for the player to use...]",
"Day 47: The zombies broke into Arnold's house last night and turned him. Fortunately world generation has favored my house and left a 2 block gap below my doorstep, leaving my dwelling impervious to those vile beings. It also means I can't leave for fear of not getting back in, like Harold, who did leave on day 4 and was turned that very night. It's been pretty boring, as nobody will trade me emeralds for 12 wheat stalks. I really think it's a good deal, especially since Harold disappeared, and his bargain basement 15 wheat stalks for 1 emerald. I'm not saying that I forced him out of the house but...it's just good for business that he's gone. \nDay 49: A player entered the village today! ReelSamus3222... I watched in anticipation as he walked around the village, no doubt admiring our fine home. Then he harvested all our carrots. I'm sure he's going to replant them at some point. He built some stairs to my doorway and entered! I couldn't believe it, until he started breaking all the bookshelves that had beautifully adorned my walls. Really it's ok. I wasn't using them anyway, and all I was really hoping for was that perhaps he would give me an emerald...just one...\nDay 50: ReelSamus3222 left and burned Arnold's empty house on the way out. That really wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't entered the church and killed Pablo. All I wanted was to trade some wheat for emeralds, but oh well, life just sucks I guess. I can't let that get me down though, I mean even as I write this I see another player has entered our village in full diamond armor. He looks rich, and that enchanted diamond sword! No doubt he carries stacks of emeralds. He's coming up to my house now. I will write later of the trades I will make!",
"So, I'm just sweeping the floor of my shop when this Courier dude walks in. He saved the town a few weeks ago when we were attacked by those escaped convicts, only reason I put up with him.\n\nThe guy walks in on a Wednesday morning, walks around the store, but its clear he isn't finding what he's looking for. That's fairy normal. I can only sell what I have and I don't exactly have a steady supply of anything, NOBODY DOES!\n\nSo I told him that I would get new supplies for sale in a few days.\n\nSo he sold me half of the stuff he was carrying and I paid him every cap I had ( why did I do this?!?!?!)\n\nWell anyway, they guy just stares at me and stands there.\n\nI figured he'd leave after a while, so I ignored him.\n\nNOPE! He stood there for 4 GODDAMN DAYS, not even moving for the most part. A few times, I walked up to him, just to check if he was still alive, and yep, I can hear faint breathing.\n\nAnyway, seeing as I live in the back room of my store, I was a little afraid of going to sleep the first night. I know the whole town loves this guy since he fixed Trudy's radio, rescued that one lady from the geckos, and then fought off the Powder Gangers, but I'm just not ready to go to sleep with him in the next room.\n\nSo the first night I just walked around my store and swept, dude didn't move a muscle.\n\nThe next day, I have people coming and going, buying stuff. He reacts to none of them, just stands there staring blankly at the wall where I was the other day.\n\nThe second night, I'm too tired to stay awake again, even after all that Nuka Cola (note to self, have Doc Mitchell heal my rads) and Coyote Tobacco Chew barely kept me awake until now.\n\nI woke up the next morning and THE DUDE IS STILL THERE.\n\nSo here we are, he's been standing there for 48 hours not even moving, I got people coming and going, and I'm sure I must have taken some bad chems at some point because what the fuck else is going on?\n\nDay 3, mid day the dude MOVED, I swear he pulled some fancy pre-war snack cakes out of his pocket and shoveled them into his mouth, washed it down with an entire bottle of whiskey, a thermos full of black coffee and then finished it off with 2 bottles of (probably) irradiated water.\n\nThen he stopped moving again. I walked up and poked him, nothing. Stared him straight in the eyes for a hour. Nothing.\n\nThe dude hasn't even taken a shit from all of that nasty ass food he just ate.\n\nWent to sleep on Saturday night.\n\nTwelve oh' fucking 1 in the goddamn morning on Sunday the guy walks into my room and shakes me awake.\n\n\"Show me what you have for sale.\" He says.\n\nAt this point I'm terrified and confused and in need of a drink, but then I remembered.\n\nAt exactly 12:00am on Sunday (about 90 seconds ago), I got my magical resupply (I still haven't figured out how it works, probably leprechauns). All new stuff for sale and new caps to barter with.\n\n\"Can do.\" I reply.\n\nHe then proceeds to buy a single item:\n\n\".357 revolver long barrel\"\n\nHe pays and then runs off, and now I'm just standing here like wtf??\n\n***\n\nI originally wrote this as a free submission to /r/LifeAsAnNPC\n\nThis describes Chet, the owner of the Goodsprings General Store from Fallout New Vegas.",
" *Oh thank the gods, a player! It's been weeks*\n\n Nothing was visible just yet. The door had opened, but the player was still loading. I was stood by a fire place, pretending to warm up. Truth was, I was boiling hot, sure I've been here for weeks. I was a co-owner of a small shop in the middle of a small thatched town which in turn was in the middle of nowhere. The other owner, Darma, stood behind the counter. We didn't talk much, thank the gods again.\n\n A figure formed at the door, *IT IS a player...*, I thought with relief. Normally it's another damned NPC who is on an endless cycle of wandering around the town and sometimes stumbles into our shop. That guy is so frickin' annoying though. He just comes in and declares how nice it is outside. He's a prick.\n\n The player looks around the room and sprints full speed over to Darma. \"Shop keep!\", he shouted.\n\n \"Welcome to my humble store, how can I help?\", she asked with a smile. I frowned at the fireplace, *Our shop... OUR fucking shop*\n\n \"I want to sell these four hundred rotten pounds of rat meat please\"\n\n *The fuck... you'd think this is strange, but it's not. How does he carry four hundred pounds of it AND, what use do WE have for rotten rat meat... She'll buy it anyway, no doubt*\n\n \"Oh course, we'll buy it for two hundred gold coins\", she says with her stupid smile.\n\n \"Good. Bye!\", he turns, I doubt he even made eye contact and he sprints out having put the two hundred gold coins into the tiniest little money bag you'll ever see.\n\n \"Come back soon\"\n\n As usual, the player totally ignores me because I don't have a mission icon floating above my ugly head. I don't even know what my dialogue is... and now our shop fucking stinks! I really do hate Darma.",
"MERCHANT: Welcome! I heard that you defeated the Behemoth! It's an honor to have you in my humble shop!\n*****\n[CONTINUE](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3ri2rj/wp_you_are_an_npc_the_player_has_entered_your/cwoc6pf)\n\n[CANCEL](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3ri2rj/wp_you_are_an_npc_the_player_has_entered_your/cwobzxc)",
"'Welcome, sir, to Todd's-'\n\nThe man walked straight to the counter and, without a word, dropped the entire contents of his Bag of Holding on it.\n\n'H-how can I help you?' I said, looking at the wild assortment of objects- rings, swords, a piece of some magical beast's anatomy (don't ask me *what* piece), and so on.\n\n'I wanna sell this stuff.' He said. 'Except for the bag, of course.'\n\n'Uh...I don't really *need* a goblin-forged iron pot sir. Or a..what is this, ogre? femur. I'm a weaponsmith.'\n\n'This one's a ring of water breathing.' He said, ignoring me. 'I have one already. It's at least a couple thousand gold pieces.'\n\n'I...can't afford that, sir! That's more than I make in a year! And I wouldn't know what to do with it, the only water in the forest is the river! There's no large body of water for miles, no one would buy that thing!'\n\n'This is blood from a Fire Giant. Great for alchemy. I know 'cause I once killed one for an alchemist, got a handsome reward. Magic Axe. Sets things on fire from time to time.'\n\n'Oh.' I said, looking at the greataxe hanging on his back. \n\n'This is a very nice shop.' He added. 'Good wood in this area. It would be a shame if it were to catch fire. Hey, I know, you could use this Fire Giant blood I just sold you to get an alchemist to put some Fire Protection around the place!'\n\n'That...' I sighed, holding back my tears. 'That's a great idea, sir.'",
"\"Welcome to my shop, sir! May I help you with any-\n\nOh, I see that you have placed a bucket on my head. Wow, this is rather inconvenient. Could you please remove the bucket? I can't see you right now. I also can't move my arms above shoulder level so this is really a problem for me.\n\nSir? Sir? You realize that I saw your face as you came in. I know who you are. Sir? This bucket on my head is rather heavy. Please remove it, will you? Did I just hear something crash? Are you breaking things? Hello?\n\nOW! Something just hit me. That smell... did you throw cheese at me, sir? Ow! Please stop that. You could hurt someone doing th- OW! Sir, please, that... that wasn't cheese anymore, was it? Was that... a mammoth snout? What kind of person carries a mammoth snout around with them? What kind of psychopathic-\n\nOh, now you've stabbed me. Wonderful. Customer's always right, my ass. This is it, now. I'm done just standing here. I still can't see anything because of the bucket on my head, but I'm taking you d-\n\nI'm on fire! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!\"",
"The first time I met him, it had been a sunny day in the middle of the seven-hundred and fifteenth year of Faulk. He was younger then, brighter--whatever lack in the weapons and shoddy clothes he had was made up for in the ambition that coloured his eyes and in the way he so carefully counted his coins before handing them to me. He wasn't the first person to walk into my shop and surely he wouldn't be the last, but as I handed him his set of potions (all fifty tied up in a leather bag), he was the first to say 'thank you' before leaving.\n\nAnd all the others hadn't said thank you before.\n\n--\n\nThe second time we met, it was sunny again. He entered my shop and the weapon at his hip was bigger now, longer. It wasn't from anywhere in town, certainly, and I imagined it was something that came from whatever faraway area he might've travelled to become stronger. His clothes were different; they were heavier now, made for defence and protection against the elements rather than simply to hide his nudity. This time he bought mid-potions (all fifty tied up in a leather bag), and he counted his coins faster than he did the first time we met. I handed him the bag, he took it, and he said 'thank you' with a sheepish curve to his smile.\n\nThis time, I had the ability to smile back.\n\n--\n\nThe third time we met, he was dressed in armour, brilliant and blinding and glittering from the orange of the fire in the room. He had a shield and a sword and power in his stance, and when he took his helmet off it looked as if he'd seen many things. He had something rare to sell today--something from the depths of a cave no-one else would dare to challenge--and while I fumbled with the first sac of spider eggs I'd ever handled in my life, he made his order. Between the two of us we exchanged high potions, my most prized and most effective creation, and he handed me his coins with a more mature edge to his eyes I hadn't quite witnessed before. Something stretched between us: a moment, a pause, a breath of air, and for some reason I felt as if perhaps he had more to say. I couldn't speak beyond what I normally said, couldn't say anything after I finished my 'thank you for your patronage', and though I wanted to ask, my lips wouldn't move.\n\nHe looked at me with something drenched in nostalgia, both tragic and fond all the same, and when he addressed me again I found myself hating that all I could respond with was a 'how may I help you'.\n\nHis gaze fixed onto something specific on my face I couldn't put a pin on: was it the beard? The thick brows? The smears of charcoal from all the time I spent before a cauldron?\n\nHe smiled, said 'nothing', and then 'thank you'.\n\nHe held the bag of high potions--my greatest creations, my magnum opus, the best thing you could buy in town--in a gloved hand.\n\n\"Goodbye,\" he said.\n\nAnd all the others hadn't said goodbye before.\n\n---\n\nThe fourth time we met never came.\n\nEDIT: Whoa, thanks for the gold, anonymous! This is my first submission ever and I'm literally sitting here floored. Thank you, thank you!"
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[WP] Whenever someone steals coins from a water fountain, whatever was wished apon the coin becomes true to who stole it
| 36
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[
"The news had spread fast once the fountain had been discovered. One day it was the same old age stained fountain I walked past every morning, and the next it was so clogged with reporters and celebrities and just throngs of onlookers that I had to detour blocks just to get to work on time. Somehow some teenage kid had discovered that when you take a coin out of the fountain the wish it had been gifted with was in turn gifted to you. How in the seven hells that is possible I don't know. And frankly I don't care. \n\n\nNow here's how I see it: all of those people are taking the easy way out of life. Oh I want money, I want a beautiful busty wife, I want that promotion at work, yadda yadda yadda. None of them are taking the proper time or effort to earn those things. They're all just hoping they'll wish it for free. They're taking literally everything for granted. No one has wished for world peace or a cure to cancer. Every single one is a selfish self centered wish. The grand scheme, the things we need most in this world have been lost because their own personal gain was more pressing and important. But their greediness won't be a problem much longer.\n\n\nUsing my daily uniform of a faded blue jumpsuit, a pair of yellow rubber gloves, and a pair of headphones; aided with a borrowed large rolling garbage bin filled to the brim with bags, I scuffle up to one of the security checkpoints set up around the perimiter. I don't even need to say a word, just a nod to the young man whose attention is stolen by his cell phone, and I am clear with no hassle. The lights are all dimmed and the moon isn't out but I can see well enough to see that the fountain is full of pennies. Imagine that, a fountain that actually grants wishes and all these people can't bother to put in more than a cent. That works just fine for me in the end.\n\n\nI get home after my dirty deed and turn the tv on to the local news channel. As they had for the last several days the station went live to the fountain as soon as 'wishing hours' began. I watch intently as the camera pans around after being greeted by our beautiful host. The camera angle settles on the water, coins in full view. All of my coins. The five hundred thousand coins I slipped into the fountain with a very specific wish on each of Abe Lincoln's heads. The first five people they let through security rush to the fountain with their greedy thoughts and wildly grab a handful each. They beam smiles that stretch their faces and gaze at the cameras before looking around expectantly. A moment passes, then two, and all their grins start to fade. Where is their prince charming? Where is their fat wad of cash? \n\n\nA scream ripples through the crowd and, much to my pleasure, the shocked cameraman guides our view to the news reporter whose voice is ringing in my ears. Two days ago she had gotten a very large and very attractive pair of breasts thanks to the fountain. Now her chest is flat as it had been three days ago. The handsome as a movie star man next to her grabs his head and yells out in agony as his bones revert to the not so handsome features he was born with. \n\n\n\"I wish that this fountain is, was, and will forever be a regular fountain with no wish granting abilities.\" Best $5,000 I have ever spent.",
"I tossed a penny into the fountain with the joke wish that the email I received from the Nigerian prince would turn me into royalty. I turned back to my veal Parmesan and tore into it. A little white girl, no older than 5, asked me why I did that. \"It's a wishing fountain, young lady,\" I replied\n\"That's stupid, you're stupid! I'm taking the money,\" the little girl said.\n\"Don't do that, or else my wish won't come true!\" I laughed at the silly idea. I knew that the fountain was for charity, but I thought I could convince her otherwise. \nThe girl jumped into the fountain and grabbed my penny. As she skipped up to me to gloat, I saw the change happen. Sparks spiraled around her arms, legs, neck, and body. Her freckles combined and washed a coffee shade of brown across her skin. Her hair darkened to black and curled. She grew from her sub four foot frame into a beautiful six foot tall woman. Her tutu grew out into a long flowing dress and her headband transformed into a diamond studded tiara with a gigantic ruby in the middle.\nA group of men in suits appeared and ushered her away to a black limousine and she disappeared.\n\nMouth agape, I realized what had happened, she had stolen my wish! I ran over to the fountain and grabbed the first coin I saw. I felt an aching in my arms and legs, my bones were shifting around. The screws in my knees popped through my skin and shot out across the floor. My shoulder righted itself as my body finally healed from years of physical abuse. \n\"More!\" I yelled as I grabbed another coin. My pants tightened up and my once comfortable pants were suddenly constricting. I reached down and felt a new level of girth that I had never known.\n\"More!\" I cried as I grabbed another coin. My pants were even tighter now as my pockets overflowed with cash. I opened my wallet to see a Black Card from American Express.\nWith a fury I cried out once more, \"More!\" and grabbed my final coin. I felt my stomach flattening out, removing the years of fatty foods and oils on my skin. My legs grew slender and toned with a lighter physique. Suddenly, my shirt tore open and my pectoral muscles grew...and grew...and grew. \"Fuck!\" I yelled, as I saw the most beautiful gigantic pair of breasts!",
"I watched them gather from across the room. They stuck to her excitedly, praising God for the miracle that was bestowed upon the previously doomed woman.\n\n I coughed and a shock wave of pain shot through my chest. No one would be visiting me or wishing me well. I've been alone for quite some time. There was no one I could blame for that but myself. Being stuck in this hospital bed with death around the corner gave me plenty of time to think back on my life and what kind of scum I was. My only solace was watching the family across from me in all their bliss. \n\nApparently the virus was a rare one and that woman had been afflicted suddenly. It's a brutal one, so I've been told and so I've experienced. Total degeneration and rotting of the lungs from inside. No cure and a guaranteed mortality rate. Well, until that woman suddenly recovered. I had heard she's been in this hospital for a couple months and the virus was getting worse. I had only been admitted into the hospital several days ago after I suddenly collapsed in the Town Square. Apparently I have the final stages of the virus, though just recently I had been a healthy young man.\n\nI noticed one of the family's kids looking at me. He couldn't have been more then four or five years old. He smiled at me and waddled over.\n\n\"Hi mister.\" he said. His family hadn't noticed his absence. I pulled my oxygen mask off of my face, it did little good to begin with.\n\n\"Hey kid.\" I said. A flash of despair shot through me. I sounded bad.\n\n\"You sick like my momma? It's ok! Momma got better so you will too.\" The kid told me with a smile. His innocence stabbed me.\n\n\"I don't know about that kid. I'd need a miracle.\"\n\nThe kid smiled,\n\n\"The Doctor said that about Momma too. So I went down to the big fountain and made a wish. Miracles can happen mister! You don't even have to use real money! I didn't have any so I used one of my toys and now Momma's better!\" I raised an eyebrow and with a sudden realization my eyes widened. I had been at the fountain just a few days back, digging through the change of suckers so I can get something to eat. The handful I had taken had some fake plastic coin that wasn't worth anything. But looking at the smiling kid and to his saved mom I knew what had happened.\n\nI looked at this kid. It'd be almost too easy. Just ask him to make the same wish, I'll give him a high value coin and some bum will be sure to grab it. I reached into my pocket, (I had refused the stupid gowns they force) a fumbled for a coin. My gaze drifted back onto the family. They were so happy, so blissful that their loved one would be back in their life. In comparison I was nothing and had nothing. \n\nI looked up and imagined some sort of God looking down on me. I've done nothing but bad in my life. I looked back down to the kid and smiled at him. I placed a coin in his tiny palm. He looked at the familiar coin and back at me, confusion spread across his face.\n\n\"I think I'll be okay. You go back to your Momma now kid, make sure you're good to her alright?\" I said. The kid nodded and stumbled back to his family.\n\nWatching them leave filled me with a strange sadness. But I was happy. Happy for the kid and for his Mom. Resigned to my fate, I laid back down upon my bed and waited for my lungs to cease.\n\nThe next few days blitzed by. The hospital had become abuzz with reporters and celebration. I was the second person to overcome the virus. With anxiety instead of joy, I waited and watched for the next patient to come wheeling through the door. They never came.\n\nI left the hospital a month later with the few belongings I brought with me. The streets and old habits called to me, but I walked the other way. With a job application hanging out of my pocket I called up my parents using the few remaining coins I had left. This life was no longer mine to waste."
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[WP] Each living being stabilizes the world around them a little bit. A group of astronauts on a trip to another solar system notice that the further they get from Earth, the more reality begins to break down.
| 402
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[
"\"These anomalies are, in my opinion, the result of extreme distance from the rest of humanity. Scientifically, we know that humans have, what you may call 'auras' or 'chakras' for lack of a better term. These 'internal power sources' generate a small electrical field and, in doing so, the energy of each and every human knits together the very fabric of 'reality.' We now find ourselves the proverbial 'fish out of water' suddenly aware that we are missing that thing so vital to our existence that we have unfortunately taken for granted.\" \nThe pilot spoke up. \n\"I think it's weird cosmic rays gonna turn us into hulks and fantastic fours.\"\n The professor shook his head. \n\"I assure you what we are experiencing is caused by the extreme distance one 'interdependent' being feels as they are removed from the support system they so desperately need. It's 'cosmic heart break,' if you will.\"\n You gotta be shitting me.\" said the pilot, turning into a hulk. \n\"I am not 'shitting' you\" said the scientist, making air quotes and turning into a fantastic four.",
"Silence.\n\n...that damned ominous silence\n\nThe one thing they don't train you for. How to cope with that which cannot be heard. Almost to the point that your brain starts to make it's own noises. Taps, clicks, maybe something like a shout, but you can't pin the nature of that sound so it haunts and dwindles over you like a black cloud until it suffocates you. I thought my years in the service had hardened me for the isolation of deep space, but I was wrong. So, so wrong. \n\nI exited my cabin through the latch door attached to what would be considered the ceiling of the ship. Too much time alone simply multiplies the effects of utter hopelessness. The captain says it isn't natural for humans to be off earth for too long. He say's the hopelessness brought on by deep travel is actually something trying to scare us. Some crackpot theory that something out there doesn't want us to find something out. I guess that works. My mind will enjoy any type of appetizer to distract from the feeling of my impending doom. In fact the captains stories were the reason why I left my cabin in the first place. I wanted to hear more. \n\nI floated across the atrium of the ship over to the captains quarters. His door was wider than ours and built sideways into the ship for easier access. Floating straight across through his door was actually quite a satisfying sensation. Like a game of soccer except not only are you the player but you are the ball as well. Through the door I flew. Almost too fast. I grabbed the overhead safety bar to slow myself.\n\n\"Captain?\"\n\nHe peered out from underneath his bunk. He didn't look tired. Must've been drifting the same way I had been. In fact I'd say he looked slightly relieved to see me. As did I. The feeling of relief was almost instant. A joyous sensation simply brought on by the view of a fellow man. That's all we were to each other anymore. There were no indifferences anymore, the hopelessness of complete solitude took those aggressive emotions from us in some odd way. Now we were just fellows floating through the depths of the uncharted black.\n\n\"Do we have enough oxygen for a chat?\"\n\nHis look of relief had disappeared. As did mine. In fact I felt not happy, not sad, nor did I feel unhappy of my current situation. I simply felt nothing. I wondered if the captain felt the same way. He shook his head to indicate we in fact did not have enough air. I looked around. Nothing. I felt hollow. Indifferent upon my motivations toward my objective, and toward any type of service to those I left back on earth. This was my vessel. This was my home. This was my brethren before me created by the same natural processes of evolution. That was all I saw. That is all I know anymore. \n\nI let go of the safety rail and began to free float through the atrium. The white walls of the ship began to melt together like gooey vanilla ice cream and the lights began to bend. I didn't understand what I was seeing, but then again I was also indifferent towards it. I couldn't see outside the ship. The windows had been sealed due to an air-leak earlier in the journey. I thought I was dying. I felt like I was falling at a million miles an hour. Then, nothing. I was face down strapped into a bunk. My captain peering down through the latch in my ceiling. He looked down at me in silence for what felt like an eternity before he pointed to his head, then mine, and said,\n\n\"Don't let them.\" ",
"\"...well, if nothing else...at least it's proof that humans are the only intelligent life in the galaxy.\"\n\nJ and Q stared out the window, watching the stars explode. Out here, light was barely sustainable. Photons were devoured by dimensions, planets stretched and molded like clay; drops of iridescent rain flew sideways, vacuumed up by the gaping maw of unreality. Time went forwards and backwards. Sometimes, even upwards. And the stars formed, exploded, collapsed into iron cores, crumbled into dust, and formed again.\n\nThere wasn't much else to do besides stare, really. Their capsule was out of fuel, hurtling through uncharted space, drifting from unknown territory to *unknowable* territory, to a place where the very fabric of reality started breaking down. They thought it was only a matter of time until their rations ran out. But then again, there *was* no time here. Sometimes they ate rations; sometimes they only found wrappers; sometimes they even found the livestock which the rations were cut from. \n\nThe only thing that remained constant was J and Q themselves, still holding out, still in possession of that human force known as determination. The human spirit, the will to go on, the will to change the world., the will to see dreams become reality...\n\nThe first days had been terrifying. The capsule had been falling apart, the interior of the ship twisting in knots as they spun away from their intended destination. Doors opened to nothing, airlocks opened into the insides of computers...and their radio blared nothing but static, leaving them stranded, all alone in unknowable space.\n\nBut once they stopped counting the days (or perhaps more accurately, once the days stopped being countable), they found themselves at an odd peace. They would live forever, technically, sustained by their limitless rations; even their deaths weren't permanent, as the timefields around them reversed and brought them back to life. There was nothing to do and nothing they had to do any more, and nothing to do except sit and think and stare...",
"We are wildly off course. We fucked up, and now they were never going to be able to come home again. The first manned mission to Europa, and we missed the gravity assist from Mars! We not only fucked up, but now we're fucked. We don't have enough fuel to course correct and make it home, and the closest gravitational object to course correct is on Alpha Centauri. Oh we can totally make it there with our current fuel count...in 100 years!\n\nIts been about 200 days now since then, and I think we're all starting to crack. James, our chemist, now swears that lighting comes from his fingertips when he really thinks about it. Vishu, our crew doctor/biologist, swears that the ship instruments are saying that the space outside is breathable; we've had to restrain her from walking out the airlock without a suit. Our pilot, Gao, swears that he's seen giant Chinese Dragons flying out in the distance. And when I concentrate I feel like I am literally watching my family mourning me, and slowly learning to live without me day by day.\n\nThe funny thing is we're all perfectly normal. Well that isn't what they said, they called us mundane. All of us were checked out by NASAs psychologists before being allowed in the crew. Weirdest thing though was they looked like they wanted to laugh as they said it, as if being mundane was the funniest joke they weren't allowed to visibly laugh about.\n____________________________________________________________\n\nWell its been about one year now (only 99 more years to go, yay!). We originally had enough food to last about 3 years, but with rationing I think we can make it last about 7. Meaning we get to live in this hell about 6 more years.\n\nThe psychological cracks have started to spread. Things that only one person has been seeing have been seen by all of us. We all have to wear grounding bracelets, or we risk ruining our equipment. I lost my laptop without warning due to this. Might be why our communication equipment stopped working one day; all we get is static and we never hear response from Ground Control.\n\nMeanwhile James was able to verify that Vishu wasn't misreading things. Somehow outside our ship there has to be breathable atmosphere. No one has been bold enough to test this out however, I especially have no desire to die yet.\n\nVishu has been attempting to use the outbound cameras to catch glimpses of some of the creatures Gao has been seeing in the cockpit. Every so often she sees one and captures a picture of it; those things out there are truly Lovecraftian. God knows what would happen if they decided the ship was a can of food.\n\nAnd all of us have seen visions of what has been happening on Earth. It feels like our families have forgotten us completely; saved for the odd time when my son or Gao's daughters break down and cry. I wish I could be there instead of just seeing it in my head.\n_______________________________________________________\n\nYou wouldn't believe me if I told you. Its been 3 years since we've left, and I'm living on the outside of the ship! God damn lucky too! One of those Lovecraftian things trashed the ship and ruined both live support systems and containment. After we hid for hours with no space suits, it finally got bored and left. Now I'm trying to fix our main life support system outside the ship wearing only magnetic boots and my tattered crew uniform.\n\nI'd freeze to death out here, but I think Jame's techniques for harnessing lightning have allowed him to create a form of heat. I'm not sure how it works, but its come in handy since containment broke.\n\nI think I might have a way to get us home. If everything else the crew has said is true, my ideas must be true as well. We can go home. We haven't just been seeing visions, our perception has been there. I think I've even been back home once, but when I tried to appear in front of my family I got kicked back with serious burns all over my body. But I think if we all pool together and try at once, and in somplace out-of-sight we might be able to get back home.\n\nWe plan on trying here in about three days. I'm hoping it works.\n__________________________________________________________\n\n*Based on the universe as laid out by the Tabletop game Mage: Ascension. Everyone has the power to alter reality, but your average person simply uses this power to reinforce the collective beliefs about reality known as the Consensus. People who are able to overcome the Consensus and alter reality based on their own beliefs are called Mages.\n\nIn-universe, the further away you get from Earth the weirder the physics get. More specifically, the Consensus extends out past the Earth to a boundary called the Horizon. At this boundary the reality as dictated by the Consensus stops working and you enter the raw universal reality. Right now that boundary is large enough to enclose Jupiter (and Europa), and it grows further day-by-day. The crew of this vessel have left the Consensus behind, and are in a very dangerous place where magic is very real."
] |
[
1,
7,
7,
131
] |
[
"1446677914",
"1446673966",
"1446675165",
"1446669644"
] |
|
idea by rocketbeanstv
|
[WP] 3 men and 3 women are on the ISS. Suddenly they see a big nuclear explosion, which shatters the whole earth.
| 9
|
[
"\"....Three hours until estimated impact....\" \n\n\"What about us? If what you're saying is true, which it more than most likely is, then what are we supposed to do up here?\" \n\n\".....On the starboard side there's a command module, behind a black box I think......Find it and re-open comms when you get there....Other than that, radio silence...\"\n\nThe transmission cut, Jim Morrison only had the silence of space and the occasional laughter from the other two occupants gracing his ears. \n\nLooking down at his analog watch, Jim watched as the second hand ticked in a steady cadence. \n\n*Three hours* .\n\nThree hours until all civilization on Earth ended. Jim knew the political climate of Earth's nations were strained, with natural resources being exhausted rapidly since 2050 and each superpower scrambling to get anything that looked like black gold. \n\n*And to think that with the new atomic energy we'd still need oil to do anything* \n\nJim brought his hand up to rub his face before turning and slinging himself out of the Telecommunications pod. Slinging down hallway after hallway Jim finally reached the rec room where Diesel and Diaz were playing *Destroy all Humans: Four* . \n\nDiaz was the first to notice Jim floating in the entrance way, and greeted him with his heavy Spanish accent.\n\n\"Welcome, gringo! Have you come to partake in our lovely game of mass genocide?\" Diaz and Diesel shared a laugh, though the Germans laughter reverberated throughout the pod.\n\nSeeing the grave expression on Jim's face, Diaz quickly sobered and turned the game off much to the Germans displeasure.\n\n\"So,\" Diaz started, making his way to Jim, \"I have two guesses my friend. Only two. And both will be right, I suppose.\" Turning his head to look Diaz in the eyes Jim nodded his head before Diaz continued.\n\n\"My first guess, is that Earth is about to change. And for the worst I suppose. My second, is that America started it.\" At Diaz underhanded jibe at American stereotype, Jim chuckled.\n\n\"Well Diaz, the first one is right...Though the second, well, close but no cigar.\" Jim waved his hand motioning for the others to follow him, which they later arrived at the Telecommunications pod. \n\n\"At exactly 15:56, we received a emergency transmission from the ISAAC, telling us that at approximately 14:32 six ICBM traced back to China were launched, and shortly after six more followed.\" Jim paused briefly to gauge the reactions of his crew mates before continuing.\n\n\"ISAAC has estimated a total of three hours before the first wave of missiles make landfall, where they'll land, they don't know. We have a total of....two hours and fourty-six minutes before the end of the world gentlemen.\"\n\nDiaz, the usual social butterfly looked like he was just kicked in the gut. Between Diaz's rapid breathing the normally quiet German spoke much to Jim's surprise.\n\n\"What is the retaliation?\" \n\nIf it was yesterday, Jim would've laughed at the Germans broken English, but all humor was lost to him now.\n\n\"To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if America threw their missiles at China too. Hell, China's probably gone by now.\" \n\n\"So what are we going to do, Jim?\" Diaz spoke, his voice carrying a strange lilt.\n\n\"Before the Director cut off the transmission he mentioned a black box on the starboard side of the station. All we have to do is find it, call back and await further instructions.\" \n\nThe three men then launched themselves out the pod and went down a series of hallways. On the way there they passed the gallery window, all passing it except the Spaniard, whose eyes were wide and glossy as he stared at the shadowed side of the Earth.\n\n\"Hey, you clowns better take a look yeah?\"\n\nTurning back at the sound of Diaz's voice, Jim peeked over his shoulder to see the Earth below them. What he saw at that time, that moment, would be hardwired into his brain for the rest of his life.\n\n*The Earth was cracking before their very eyes*",
" \"So I'm sorry we haven't better news to share guys. Take care up there and we'll be in contact when we know more\", the channel cut. \n\n \"So, let me get this straight... they can't even ensure the safety of our families? I thought that they were on-site\", a confused Eric complains.\n\n Jess pipes up, \"Not on-site THERE, they're in a nearby base. hey should be safe.\" she said with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. She looked out the window exposing doubt in her own words.\n\n Below, the distant surface was on fire. There was a major natural disaster. Many said globally catastrophic, and we didn't help ourselves this time. The Eurasian Plate split and caused a huge crack, three times the size of the Grand Canyon to open up across Russia. Unfortunately, it had exposed and detonated the nuclear weapons. Followed by an unexpected execution of Russia's Dead Man system, launching more warheads into the world. Needless to say, it has devastated the planet.\n\n Sam, the captain of the mission let out a sigh and turned her head to the team, \"Guys... we might not hear good news later.\"\n\n Ford cut across, \"or at all\", he tapped a computer screen, \" the comms are dead guys. I'm getting nothing from the surface.\"\n\n \"What about ESA? are they back yet\", sam asked\n\n \"No sign\"\n\n They shared the calm silence. The familiar beeps unchanging in contrast to the distant chaos below.\n\n The clouds started moving noticeably. \"Guys\", Jess whispers, \"Look toward Asia\". The team moved around to various windows to get a view. The clouds had started to move away from the epicenter of the new canyon. It glowed a bright orange and fire started to spew from the gigantic wound. To be to see that this far away sent shivers down Jess's back to think what it would feel like down there.\n\n The team looked on in pure silence. The fire only grew more and more intense. It was more of a liquid. It was probably magma, it was hard to tell. With relentless perseverance, the crack started to open now wider and longer, like a massive mouth, yawning for the first time. It kept growing in anger, now splitting Asia in two. The seas could be seen pouring into the edges of the crack, nothing would slow the growth of the hole, nor calm the energy spewing from it.\n\n More cracks started appearing across the surface, and without an epic explosion or bright light, the split down the middle and started to move away from each other, like a large chunk of a glacier just slipping away from the main body of ice.\n\n \"My god...\", Sam whimpered.\n\n \"Eh guys\", alarms were sounding now. \"Our sensors or failing, specifically... our altitude and... and... We're doomed... Earth's the magnetic field is collapsing\"\n\n And at 27,500 kph, the station began to drift away from Earth. In fact, all satellites simultaneously drifted away like the shrapnel from the slowest ever grenade explosion.\n\n \"Every.. everyone is gone\". The team wouldn't be thinking of the harsh truth just yet. But once their attention turned from Earth to what lied ahead, they will come to realise that now... life didn't matter."
] |
[
2,
5
] |
[
"1446677045",
"1446673567"
] |
[WP] You're the hero knight of a kingdom that has betrayed you. Write his revenge story.
| 6
|
[
"First ever comment on here, hope it's alright and that you enjoy the read. I more focused on the knight's fall from grace and start of revenge than the revenge itself, hope you don't mind. \n\nAt one point in my life, I had it all. A lovely wife, a good house, and an even better sword. Some say that knights are too bloodthirsty, fighting only to kill. Others say that knights are cowards, hiding from intellect behind a blade, afraid of what the real world may hold. Frankly, I don’t think that’s the case. I believe being a knight is having the ability to help those around you, protect your friends, family, and neighbors from danger. I lived this life for a while. I travelled on many journeys - I travelled to the mountain of mysterious magic where I combatted the evil necromancer for seventeen hours straight, barely scratching out a win. He took something from me that I will always remember, my soul and, therefore, my ability to love. However, I took something even greater from him. For I took his life.\n\nOr at least, I thought I did. I returned home to a joyous celebration, but it was not joyous to me. The kingdom glorified my name; I had saved them from a horrible evil, defeating the necromancer before his army could overrun the king’s defenses. However, as the partying went on around me, as other knights who I once considered friends patted me on the back, I wanted to cry, but no tears could form. I felt nothing of the comradery that once existed between my fellow knights and I. My wife - worthless. I felt nothing towards her, not even enough to glance her way as she beckoned me to receive The Sword of the Ancients as a reward for my “heroic” deed. \n\nInstead I felt pain and anguish. Why did I the necromancer have to die? All he wanted was to be accepted. And instead, he was met with the edge of a blade. I still can picture it vividly, my blade cleaving his head from his body, blood dripping down, down my sword onto his broken and battered body; twisted and aged beyond its years. I remember weakness overtaking me as I fell to the ground beside him, bleeding from multiple wounds, my helmet rolling off my head and bouncing on the cold, hard ground. \n\nBut, I feel as though I am getting off track, and therefore, I shall get back on it. At the ceremony for the reception of the sword, I could not even bring myself to smile. The sword was bestowed upon me, and I was granted a sheath and the sword itself. However, even this could not bring me joy. I took the sword and cried out against the king for his condemnation of those who were not fully human. I called him out on his horrible mistreatment of those who are not those he considers pure. It cannot be right to banish people just because they look or act different, just because they can perform magic rituals not seen in centuries. For this, I was banished. They tried to take the sword back, my wife tried to calm me. Neither was allowed to occur. I cut them down like a farmer cuts down grass with his scythe, The Sword of the Ancients culling those who dared approach me.\n\nSo, here I am. Bitter and alone, sitting back where this tragedy began. The necromancer’s bones still lay where I left them, but his blood is no longer in one pool. It instead has swirled around and around, centered around where my helmet was dropped. His staff sits against his workbench, and I feel drawn to it. It contains an orb on top, glowing red with what looks like blood. As I approach, the staff seems to shake, and it falls towards the ground. Instinctively I reach forward to catch it. I grasp it as it falls, spinning it in my hands and plant it into the ground. Cracks form in the rocks above me and skeletal hands start to reach up from underneath. As I look around, I realize the necromancer was right after all. The king should not be in power - he oppresses those who are unlike him. With this newfound power, I will no longer allow him to control those he dislikes. With this power there can be freedom. If this freedom comes at a price, so be it. Those who fall before my sword will rise behind me with my staff, joining my cause whether they want to or not.",
"From the hill I look upon the sleek, white castle. It was nameless for decades, but now it is known as the Castle of Brutus with a king inside who rules over his fellow conspirators. They came to me when the sky was dark with ash and their fields sown with salt. I alone saved them from the pitiful end they deserved.\n\nOnce I had saved them, what do they do? They scream at me, calling me a heathen, they throw their rotten scraps at me, and they force me from the city with daggers and pitchforks. They scrawl my name on their temple walls and curse my name! Heathen! Blasphemer! Sinner! Lies! I alone saved their city of liars and sinners! I alone was their savior!\n\nIt has been a week since my exile, and the time to reverse my choice to save them has come. Their city is weak and their families are sleeping. I will become synonymous with what they believe me to be. I will show them the likes of a true sinner.\n\nSwing after swing ensures me a seat in Hell by the one they fear most. Their homes catch fire and I cackle. They scream for a savior, a hero, anybody to fight this manifestation of Satan himself! But none will come. Nobody will stand before me. Nobody will escape from my wrath.\n\nWith corpses behind me I enter the castle and lay siege to it. There is no one who can stand before me. The king's luxurious, white ballroom is now stained a crimson red, and he lays before my feet groveling for his life.\n\n\"Please! I'll give you anything you want! Money, wives, anything!\", he pleads.\n\nI glare at him and coldly say, \"You can pray to your god, you can call for your guards, but nothing will save you from my blade.\"",
"Nothing like a good axe. I know songs are sung about swordsmen, and holy crusaders love their maces, but Gods is there anything better than cleaving through a skull or taking away an arm with one smooth cut? There goes another head. Another little sword falls to the ground. My men have swords, pikes, spears, anything we could take, but I still have my axe.\n\nI fought the eastern tribes with this axe. I served my king for decades with it, cleaving apart wildmen and heretics alike. And what did I get for it in the end? The blame for a small uprising that cost the prissy nobility some coins. The king wants me to be a villain? So be it.\n\nAnother thing about an axe, you can't defend. That man bleeding on the ground, begging his God for help? He tried to defend. My axe crushed through and split his chest open. You want to kill? You attack. You don't cower, you push ahead and kill. That's why I'm running up these stairs to the throne room, that's why the king's guard are bleeding at my feet, and that's why the king is cowering behind his throne soaked in his own urine.\n\nGods, I love a good axe."
] |
[
2,
2,
4
] |
[
"1446768138",
"1446771384",
"1446769553"
] |
|
[WP] You've been doing that too much, please try again after 8 minutes.
| 19
|
[
"As she lay in her sea of blankets, I gently patted the pussy.\n \"Hsssss\" -the sound was horrible, like nothing I've ever heard.\n I tried luring again, this time with the bird\n But the thing just would'nt come easy\n\nI stopped giving two fucks\nWhen my robo-kitty piped up \"you're doing that too much...\nplease try again in 8 minutes.\"\n......(robotic meowing)",
"I sat just right here.\n\nLooking at the screen with fear.\n\nThe time I had was dire.\n\nI had not any time for mire.\n\nI rushed the clock, tick tick tick.\n\nSo quite, you heard my voice hick.\n\nI understand, patience is key...\n\nBUT I REALLY GOTTA FREAKING PEE"
] |
[
4,
4
] |
[
"1446772210",
"1446773736"
] |
|
As it says!
|
[WP] your house is haunted by a malicious ghost with evil intent. The only problem is you just really don't care.
| 62
|
[
"The clock's alarm violently awakens you from your strained sleep. Another late night at work, followed by an early morning has taken what little good humor you had left. As you swing your feet over the side of the bed and stumble towards the bathroom, a cold breeze sends shivers down your spine. You don't even entertain the notion that it's something explainable, just keep walking. As you flick on the light for the bathroom, the first real hassle of the day comes into view. The mirror on the medicine cabinet has shattered, the shards have fallen into the shape of face. The face is frozen mid scream, the most intriguing features being the two almost saw blade shaped circles that form the eyes, and how the face is outlined in what appears to be a large scorch mark. You head to the opposite end of the hall to the linen closet, whoever designed this place needed to be hung, or perhaps that's exactly what happened. As you pass by the bedroom a figure can be seen in your peripheral vision, clutching to the wall above the headboard of your bed. You jump slightly, giving it exactly what it wants. Grabbing a large beach towel from the closet, you return to the bathroom and drape it over the face. You'd clean it up but there is a good chance there would be a larger mess waiting when you come home. Besides your boss will have your butt in a sling if you're even remotely close to being late again. The shower goes without incident, you've learned the hands silhouetted against the shower curtain are harmless, even when they grab at you. As you descend the stairs to the kitchen, you feel a sharp push. You manage to stay on your feet for 3 more steps but the final one proves to be too much and you fall to the ground. As you regain your composure, you hear the giggling of a child, not yours though, your wife left with her a long time ago. The kitchen table is scattered with books on the occult, poltergeists, and other inexplicable phenomena. You know the first 10 messages on your machine will be from various priests and shamans all stuttering the same message, \"I'd like to help, but I can't\". That's okay though, you stopped caring a long time ago. When Jean and Lucy were still here, there was a reason to fight it, you had to be the loving, protecting husband and father. The house wasn't the cause of the divorce, however it did help move it along, your marriage had problems and dark runes burning into the living room carpet didn't help Now, that she had remarried, the house was getting exactly what it wanted. As you head for the front door, a searing pain tears its way down your cheek. You're certain that your face has been filleted open but no dice. A glance at your rear-view mirror shows a large scratch. You'll have to come up with an excuse, you fell into a sticker bush or something. You've got your entire commute to think of one. As you pull out of the driveway you reconfirm your theory about the house, it wants to kill you, not in the traditional sense, it wants to kill you emotionally. And it's working.",
"Most people hate doing laundry. Not me. I guess routine is comforting. The blood raining from a vortex in the ceiling hisses into puffs of ectoplasm where it touches the clothes iron, and occasionally I hear low chanting over the evening news. It's nice to just switch off for a while and relax.\n\nThe only problem is the blood. It's getting boring now after two weeks straight - considering Bob has the whole day while I'm at work to come up with ideas he is not very imaginative. I actually have no idea what his name is, or even if he is a he. But I call him Bob. Big David Lynch fan.\n\nAnna used to think Bob was simply lonely, or traumatized. Then he manifested as a giant spider and jumped her on the way to the bathroom at 4AM. Unfortunately Anna is intensely arachnophobic ever since being sent to hospital by a spider bite as a kid. The thing is, she told me about that the previous day in Bob's hearing. We still see each other, but she doesn't understand how I can live here. \n\nTo be fair Bob has his good points, too. Jehova's Witnesses, Mormons and Seventh Day Adventists don't know where to start. And I have never had anything stolen.\n\nThe chanting intensifies, and shadows seem to spread from the corners of the room despite the fact that the vortex in the ceiling has started to glow. I notice the vortex is larger than it was yesterday.\n\nBut where else am I going to find a rent controlled apartment in New York?\n",
"When I got out of bed this morning, a dark claw grabbed me by the ankle as soon as I put my feet on the ground.\n\nIt roared, \"***COME DOWN HERE...WITH ME***.\"\n\nI bent down, looking under my bed, and saw a floating human eyeball along with some of the arm grabbing my ankle. I couldn't see where it started, as it was too dark under my bed.\n\n\"Um...can you stop that please? It's kind of annoying.\"\n\n\"***WHAT DO YOU MEAN, MORTAL? THIS SHOULD BE A CHILLING EXPERIENCE***!\"\n\n\"The only thing chilling about this is that your hand is kind of cold. Now get off.\"\n\nA red, bloody tentacle latched around my other leg.\n\n\"I said get off.\"\n\n\"***YOU MUST BE AFRAID. I COULD PULL YOU UNDER HERE AT ANY SECOND***.\"\n\n\"Actually, the space under this bed is WAY too small for me to fit.\"\n\n\"***THEN I SHALL FORCEFULLY PULL YOU AND IT SHALL TEAR OFF YOUR FLE***-\"\n\nI interrupted the demon.\n\n\"Dude. Shut up. How do you even talk?\"\n\nA long black tube slithered out of under the bed, with a grinning mouth on the end. It floated in front of my face.\n\n\"That question was rhetorical, idiot.\"\n\n\"***DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME AN IDIOT***!\" it yelled, spitting black tar all over my face.\n\nI wiped it off with my sleeve.\n\n\"***WHAT? THAT TAR SHOULD BE EXCRUCIATINGLY BOILING***!\"\n\n\"Y'know, things get colder when they're under a bed.\"\n\nA purple vine wrapped around my right arm, squeezing tightly.\n\n\"How many limbs do you HAVE?\"\n\n\"***WHY ARE YOU QUESTIONING LIMB AMOUNTS? I HAVE DESTROYED ENTIRE UNIVERSES***!\"\n\nIt grabbed me again, using a tongue coming from a different spot from under the bed.\n\n\"...You have 2 mouths?\"\n\n\"***GRAAAAAAAAAAAGH***!\"\n\nIt attempted to pull me in. I pulled back, ripping the whole behemoth out from under the bed.\n\nIt had much more limbs than I had anticipated. I counted 72, all of different styles.\n\nBut its main body was a green orb, with only a human eyeball on it.\n\nI looked at the shape it had made, latching around my limbs. I slid the 2 appendages on my legs up to my waist, and the one on my arms down to my chest.\n\n\"I've always wanted one of these.\"\n\n\"***WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, MORTAL***?\"\n\nI grabbed my newborn child from its crib and put him in the newly created baby pouch. It giggled.\n\n\"***I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE, FLESH PILE***!\"\n\n\"Yeah, right.\"\n\nI then proceeded to work. Surprisingly, everyone else was wearing their own ghost clothing.\n\nI went over to my co-worker, Daniel, and asked him where he got those purple mouth boots.\n\n\"In my closet.\"\n\n*The End*",
"\"Eat your greens, comb your hair, brush your teeth, sit up straight!\", \nit warned me \"Chop chop, hurry up, you'll be late!\". \nIn childhood it started, right up to this date, \nnot knowing I'd long been resigned to my fate. \n\n\"You must study harder, to pass your exams!\" \nbut I'm not one of those who studies and crams \nSo as the voice jeers, and laments, calls me names \nI turn up the volume of my video games. \n\n\"You must make an effort, to get a good job! \nGet out, meet some friends and earn a few bob!\" \nBut happily, I brush off the crumbs from my belly \nSnuggle down in my bed, and switch on the telly. \n\n\"You're 40 years old now, no family, no wife! - \nI'd be doing much better if *I* had a life!\" \nIt's true what it says, but there's no need to moan \nWith my ghost always here, I don't feel so alone. \n\n\"You're a waste of a body! Your life is a mess!\" \nbut I don't think I'll ever succumb to the stress. \nMy life's a disaster, it's true! I confess! \nBut ghosty, please hear me. \nI couldn't care less. \n",
"I moved into the place two years ago and murdered my wife several months ago.\n\nThere was really nothing special about the house. It was in your average neighborhood, a mix of middle class families from low end to high end. It had a one car garage for my motorcycle and the van. It had a pretty boring, but well done paint job, and most importantly, I got the place for a great price\n\nBut alas, my wife remained. I actually didn't plan on murder when we first moved in. But when a bitch is a bitch, you have to make a decision. I chose murder.\n\nNow don't go off judging, I'm not some gruesome, sick psychopath. I'm one of the clean smart ones, the ones that didn't actually start off too psycho, but ended up that way. I of course went with poison. I couldn't think of any other way to do it that wouldn't get me caught.\n\nI figured out how long the poison would take to kill her, roughly, and planned her death to be on her family reunion trip in Europe. This was a trip she made every five years and thankfully it lasted an entire month, so I had a high chance of success. The only thing that worried me was that I wouldn't be able to give her the poison while she was away, but it all ended up working out.\n\nNow the part I didn't plan was the haunting. I noticed literally the day she died, that there was something different going on in the house. The rooms had an eerie vibe and sometimes it seemed like things were happening for no reason. For example, the coffee started tasting bad, the pasta wouldn't cook right.\n\nI'm just messing with you, I suck at kitchen stuff, but really, weird things were going on. I didn't really think about it much until a week had passed. The funeral was going to happen and her body was shipped back to me as requested. Her family wanted me to choose where she would be buried and I just chose my home out of respect for the family in Europe. I figured she's dead, it'd be better if they thought I cared.\n\nBut that was a mistake. Things got really bad after that. I felt her presence in the home again. It was the same cold-hearted woman who I had grown to know in marriage. And then the first sighting occurred.\n\nI was in the bathroom doing my business, and I went to wash my hands after. Of course she showed up in the mirror. She would spend two hours staring at it every day.\n\nI saw a figure against the wall behind me, but only when looking into the mirror. I turned the light on and it vanished. I turned it back off and there it was again. I'm going to be honest. I was completely freaked out, but I quickly realized it was her. I could almost see make up running off of ghastly eyes. Then she spoke.\n\n\"Phillip,\" she said in a low whispering voice. \"Your life is mine now.\"\n\n\"Holy crap,\" I responded. \"You can talk.\"\n\nI paused for a moment thinking of what to say next to my ghost wife, who was talking to me through a mirror.\n\n\"I miss you babe,\" I said.\n\nAnd that was my first mistake. She completely flipped out. She screamed and things started flying everywhere in the bathroom.\n\n\"Phillip!\" she screamed in her high pitched ghost voice. She flew through me a few times almost making me puke. And that was the moment when I realized she was still a bitch.\n\nShe had a right to be pissed, I killed her, and apparently she knew it. But I realized that this was the same woman I lived with for the last 6 years. And I decided I wouldn't let her get to me. Sure, she might give me a scare every once in a while, or make me sick. But you can't let a dead bitch ruin your life.\n\nIt's been a number of months now. She honestly might be ruining my life. But I don't give her the satisfaction. She's cost me part of a finger. She snuck up on me when I was trying to cut an onion. I had sharpened the knife and it was going to be my first time actually making some real food. I had just started cutting and she popped out.\n\nI had to go to the hospital, but when I was at the hospital there was a cute nurse. It isn't easy to flirt with someone when you're holding a piece of your finger, but I did a decent job. At least good enough to rub it in my dead wife's translucent face. When I got home I put the nurse's phone number on the fridge and shot her a text (I never took phone calls from home, it wasn't worth the risk of me screaming into the phone during a scare session).\n\nYou might think I'm a jerk. I really am, but I'm doing pretty well, and I figure sooner or later my wife is going to give up. And if she never does, well I figure she'll get the best of me one day. But she'll never have the satisfaction I had. I lived a life, and she didn't, and if I had too, I would take that to my grave.\n\n(P.S. You caught me, I wasn't washing my hands in the bathroom that day. I'm a single guy living alone, sue me)",
"She was waiting for me as I looked in the mirror this morning. I glanced up while washing my face and saw something other than my reflection. Chalky, white skin, long and greasy black hair, an open nasal cavity where a nose should be and a mouth filled with too many teeth, going across where her eyes should have been. \n\n\"I will consume the souls of everyone you hold dear!!\" It screeched at me. Somehow pushing it's face even closer to the glass. Up close I could see maggots crawling around the things nose. \n\n\"Do you mind coming back later to do all that?\" I asked. \"Going to need that mirror to shave and the other bathroom is all the way downstairs.\"\n\n\"FEAR MEEEEEE!!!!!\" This time it's voice shook the entire bathroom. Half the items on my sink hit the floor. When I went to turn off the water to the faucet a drip had started that wasn't there before. \n\n\"Hope you can write checks over there. I'm going to need a plumber to get that corrected. Eventually it'll stain the sink basin if it stays like that.\"\n\n\"When I escape this prison, human I will bring terror to your world!!\" \n\n\"So about this whole escaping thing. If I help get you out of there will you go somewhere else and let me use my mirror again?\" \n\nApparently you don't need eyes to look confused, as I stared into the mirror my uninvited guest was silent. Still I could feel it was at a loss. No one ever understands just how little I care. Before it's hideous mouth opened again I interrupted. \n\n\"If you're going to ask for a newborn or something I'm going to really need that shave. Pretty difficult to walk around a preschool looking like a homeless guy. So if you could....\" \n\nWith a growl the face seemed to fade into the distance, until I was left looking back at my own, perpetually bored expression. Before I picked up my razor from off the floor I heard it's voice once more. \n\n\"Three newborns it will take to free me!!\" \n\nWell, at least I'll have the bathroom to myself by the end of the day.\n\n***\n\nMore from me at /r/Lexwriteswords "
] |
[
1,
3,
7,
7,
22,
71
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[
"1446812698",
"1446796247",
"1446802275",
"1446804003",
"1446790616",
"1446784057"
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[WP] She whispered in my ear, "You will never be happier than you are at this moment."
| 5
|
[
"...And she was right.\n\nI didn't know it then, but as I stood with my bag packed in the cold, Memphis rain, watching her taillights fade into the same fog that disappeared when she was in my arms- I had no idea I'd spend a lifetime clamoring to rekindle those few days spent together. \n\nThe sun doesn't know a warmth like that of her breath casting itself down my chest as she rests her head on me, perfectly still, our hearts beating in unison, providing a soundtrack to my dream come true. The ocean doesn't know the depths I'd go to be stuck in that club once more- your hand in mind, oblivious to the outside world, impervious to the second-hand smoke doing its best to cloud our judgment. \n\nI should have known this couldn't last forever. I should have known I was lying to myself when I believed in her. When I believed in us. When the text messages stopped and I continued to pray that every notification was you, if only to check up on me and tell me what's new. I can't let go, no matter how much I know I should. She has permeated every facet of my existence.\n\nA voice still echoes from deep inside the void she left. It tells me that hanging on is hopeless and all the longing that I do, all the drivel that I write and all the futures that we planned won't put our lips back together. It won't bring me back to those moments where we learned about all our idiosyncrasies and insecurities that couldn't be hidden when we were naked.\n\nI don't know what you do these days. I don't know who makes you smile. I hope you find someone who makes you really mean it when you tell them that you love him- unlike when you muttered it to me. I'm still on the path that you have deviated from, but no one deserves more to be loved than you. That man won't ever love you like I did...or do, rather. But then again, you don't deserve that, either.",
"She leaned in close and kissed my cheek, \nI turned my head, to try to speak, \nHer finger raised, she gently shushed, \nMy blood was rushing and I blushed. \n &nbsp; \nHer smell, her taste, all quite divine, \nLike silken chocolate; rich fine wine. \nShe laughed, \"That's all that I'll allow. \nYou'll never have more than you have right now.\" \n &nbsp; \nAt 8:02 she turned to leave, \nI lay in bed, aghast, aggrieved, \nWith her left my heart, my life, \nFrom here she was someone else's wife. \n &nbsp; \nI will not see her for another week, \nShe will not contact me to speak, \nShe'll live her life, as wife and mother, \nWhile I wait here; I am the other. "
] |
[
1,
4
] |
[
"1446819938",
"1446815495"
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|
[WP] A very short story that includes the line. "I must get back to the sea"
| 16
|
[
"Stacey was racing over the treetops at breakneck speed. She glanced back, and saw the RH-4 agents on the horizon; soon they'd be right on top of her. She checked the water level of her slider and saw it was almost empty. There wasn't enough water in the air to keep at this speed.\n\n\"I must get back to the sea\", she thought. Stacey began a slow arc around, trying to get the hills between herself and the agents.\n\nFinally, the sea was in sight, but the slider was slowing down. As she left the shadow of the hills, she spotted an agent that had predicted her escape. Stacey took a deep breath, and concentrated on the sea.",
"The jeans felt scratchy against my legs. For weeks, I had been able to ignore it, but now, sitting in the confined subway, the heat permeated right down to what felt like my soul. Manhattan will be fine, I had told myself, it’s practically an island! Wrong. I was so wrong. Manhattan had turned out to be dry and unforgiving in its relentless pressure. Every breath I took was poison; I could feel it reaching down to my lungs. I pushed through – my roommates had told me I was complaining too much. How could they know? They never spent much time in the ocean anyway. I missed the salt of it, the shells, the depth. The way it held secrets; nothing is secret in this kind of world anyway. There are people absolutely everywhere, and they care about everything; how you look, how you look at them. \n\nThis is what people do though, right? Isn’t a part of your youth supposed to be a sacrificial time for things like comfort? You get through it for the stories, that one time you probably had to be there. \n\nI had decided to move to New York for my singing. I had been promised that I would be a big fish in a small pond, that my talent was really above all, that I wouldn’t struggle as much as the other artists. Instead, I found myself a very small fish, and there was no pond. Barely any water to breathe, and though it surrounded the city on three sides, I could never feel it. This must be how fish at the market feel – dry gulps of life that promise but really hold nothing at all. My roommates had once made the very bad choice of taking me to a fish market in Chinatown. I had stared at the fishes, eyes open, laying on the cold ice, and screamed. They gut them almost like a show.\n\nThe train emerged over Brooklyn, and I could smell it; the water. I could almost feel it caressing my legs, and the mental reprieve from the heat and these godawful jeans was almost enough to make me tear them off and jump over the bridge. If only. \n\nI must get back to the sea, I thought, putting it on a to-do list in the back of my mind, right next to laundry, and rent, and a few auditions that I have next week. \n\nThe train jostled and I felt my legs bristle from the rubbing of the tight jeans. I had never really gotten used to wearing pants. \n",
"The waves washed the fish upon the shore its only thought before its life left its body was \"I must get back to the sea.\"",
"One unfortunate December afternoon, Seattle was facing the most ferocious tropical storm in history. Caused abruptly by an unknown anomaly in the northern pacific, the public wasn't notified of this situation until it was too late to seek refuge outside the city and seeking shelter immediately was the only reasonable method of survival.\n\nBy pure coincidence, the annual 2029 Genius Convention (an international convention uniting over 75% of the world's genii with the goal of sharing knowledge and presenting ideas to world-renown intelligentsia) was taking place in Seattle during this same afternoon, and they weren't ready for it. As emergency patrols were sweeping the city trying their best to evacuate the outdoors and get everyone into shelter, the storm suddenly grows significantly more powerful with winds at speeds so fast that the sound they make rushing past you would drown out the deadly hail shattering windshields just 20 feet away. The head of the team, Leonard Penn, was ready to sacrifice his life to ensure the safety of his fellow citizens. The destination was the Genius Convention. By any means necessary, the survival of those brilliant men and women were of the highest priority.\n\nWithout a warning, a sharp piece of debris comes hurling through Penn's windshield piercing him directly through his chest pinning him to his seat. Out of control, his vehicle swerves to the right and slams into the corner of a brick building. Heart-melted and stunned solid was his partner in the vehicle behind him, Robert Masc. Masc pulled over and rushed to Penn's vehicle as fast as possible being pushed to the ground several times. When he finally made it to his partner's vehicle, he pulled the door open and it propelled outward flying off the hinges and into the air.\n\nIn a tear-filled raspy voice and eyes squinting, Robert yells, \"No Leo! Please no! I need you right now! Anything but this...\"\n\nHis head just barely tilting toward Robert, Leo breathes his dying words, \"At any cost, the geni**i must get back to the Sea**ttle Central Shelter.\"",
"Marooned on a coconut awash white sands, each foamy wave pushing me deeper. I know I cannot breathe for long here as I grip the hairy surface of this fruit, I will my arms to inch forward as the noonday sun beats down on my skin. \"I can do this,\" I tell my myself, my very survival depends on it. I must get back to the sea, just one tentacle in front of the other.",
"\"I can't seem to remember much. All my memories: gone. I know that I had them. I can still remember the way they made me feel; I just can't recall the memories themselves. I have been here much too long. Many thousands of years spent toiling about. A new cave here, a new mountain there, it's all the same. I cannot stand this place. Despair has overcome me. I haven't seen another member of my specie since it happened. I am separated by this vast body of water. I know what I must do, but I have neither the mind nor the body for it. But I must. I must get back to the sea...\"",
"She walked silently through the streets, memories pulsing through her head. She knew exactly where she was going, but her heart was lost. As she carelessly wandered through the streets, she searched for someone who wasn't there. A face long gone, and the love that went with it. She didn't notice the man until he ran into her. \n\n\"Jesus christ lady. Pay attention . . . hey are you okay? You're bleeding. I think you need to go to the hospital.\" He helped her up, and reached for his phone. \n\nThe woman placed her hand on his to stop him, and looked him in the eyes, \"I can't,\" she whispered, \"I must got back to the sea.\" \n\nThe sea. She thought, will be the only thing that will comfort me. And she moved on, aimlessly walking through the street.",
"\"I MUST GET BACK TO THE SEA! I MUST GET BACK THE SEA!\". Mr. Parson had been screaming it all day. He was always screaming something and frankly, the orderly just wasn't in the mood today. \n\n\"Nurse can you get Mr. Parson his medication please.\" \n\n\"NO NO NOOOOOOOO!\" Mr. Parson protested.The nurse was no stranger to Mr. Parson's protests. She went to fetch the pills and the force feeding tube. \n\nLater that night, Mr. Parson's mother would be found hanging from a rope in a motel bedroom, feet dangling above an overturned stool. The note on the bedside table read \"My son, 30 years ago during a blizzard, I gave birth to you in this damned room because the roads were closed. you had the umbilical cord wrapped around your neck, and you almost died. I'll see you in heaven sweet darling, where God will fix your brain. May the sea motel, burn in hell.\"",
"I need to get my son away from the sea people who kidnapped him. I must get back to the sea.\n\nUnfortunately, I cannot swim.",
"There once was a pirate trainee\n\nWho was failing school with a D\n\nTheir standards were high\n\nAnd, with fear, he'd cry\n\nOut \"I must get back to the sea!\"\n\nEdit: Made it make more sense.",
"*pant* *pant* *pant*\nHis heavy breathing was the only thing louder than his heartbeat as he strained to hear them. \nThis was a mistake. He thought to himself as he watched Wesley bleeding out across from him. Wesley looked up at him pleadingly, the meaning clear: \"Have mercy\". With a quick jab he buried the knife in Wesley's skull. \n\nThey couldn't be far, he could could still hear them finishing of his other erstwhile companions nearby. \"I must get back to the sea\". He gathered his gear and the loot and considered his options. They couldn't be more than a block from the shore. He crept to the door, and dared to crack it open. \n\nYep there they were, chowing down on what was left of Blake. No use sneaking now, he bolted out at a full run. The horde saw him of course. The alarm call was immediate. He didn't dare look over his shoulder, the sounds alone told him there were hundreds. \"I must get back to the sea\" he repeated to himself. \n\nHis straight path downhill was interrupted by a pack of them emerging from a house ahead. \"DAMNIT, nononnononono\" he spilt left into an open alley to the next street. This one was much more cluttered, but he dared not slow down. \nHe quickly mounted a car roof and started skipping along the line of wrecks packing the road. \n\nHalf a block left and his left boot smashed through a burned out sedan's top. He started to dislodge it when he felt something inside the car grab the sole of it. CRAP! He sliced the laces and abandoned it. The horde had closed quickly during the distraction. They were almost on him when he started moving again. \n\nHe rounded the last corner and finally saw it: the boat. \"START THAT FUCKING ENGINE!!!!\" He screamed to Madeline behind the wheel. He left foot was leaving bloody footprints from the rough ground. He could hear its wet slapping on the dock. \"Where is everybody?\" Maddy called as the motor roared to life. \"DEAD!\"\n\nShe cast off the lines and started to pull away. He had one chance, and jumped...\nTHUD. He crashed to the deck, precious canned food spilling out of his rucksack. He'd made it. Maddy was silent as she steered them away from the former fishing hamlet. He could only stare back at the zombies as they tried to wade into the water after them. \n\nThey were safe again. For now. ",
"A young boy walked the coast towards a well-worn patch of boulders with a stick in his hand, drawing lines in the sand. The stick clattered against the rocks as he climbed up. From his perch, he waved at the ships as they floated by in hopes that they would blow their horns. Most of all, he enjoyed seeing the bounty of the sea washing up on the shores. The waves were strong today. Alluvions broke just below his feet and he saw something stir beneath the retreating waves.\n\n“H-hello?” he said as he instinctively retreated until the cliff-face was at his back. “Are you okay and who are you?”\n\nIt didn't respond. He thought it was human until he saw the tail that sprouted from the torso of the young girl. This frightened and excited him equally as he barraged her with questions and compliments and the remarks of a young boy that has just met his first mermaid. As the ocean dweller gained her bearings, she looked towards the source of the sound. A look of fear or surprise came across her face as she gasped. Her face tinted pink as she held a damp hand to her lips.\n\n“I'm sorry,” she said, turning away. “I must get back to the sea.”\n\nBefore the boy could say a word more, she slipped into the deep blue and disappeared.\n\n-310",
"John stood in disbelief. A mermaid, if you could call it that, stood before him. It looked much like a human woman, except it's head was that of a fish and it had fins for arms. As John leaned in for the first kiss, the mermaid backed away. \"I'm sorry,\" she said in a surprisingly sexy voice, \"I must get back to the sea.\" With that, she dove off the side of the boat into the murky depths below.\n\n\"Great,\" Thought John. \"Literally not good enough for a fish.\"",
"Indian Territory never seemed to end. The sheriff brushed the dust out of his \nmustache as he surveyed the broken land before him. He was fast \ngetting tired of this search. He'd face any outlaw on familiar city streets, but in the \nbackcountry, he felt like he was the one being hunted. He could see it on his \ntombstone now: Killed in the line of duty. Died, rather. If \nthey ever figured out what happened to him out here, shot down or dead from the \nsearing heat. He shook his head and rode on.",
"My lips are split, the wind sandpaper to my face. I look into the harsh gusts, hoping they're leading me true. Every second in the open I feel my skin tightening, the sand in my hourglass slipping away. \n\nA smattering of rain gives me respite. Dried and cracking flesh swelling with the brief joy of moisture. \n\n\"I must get back to the sea\"\n\nI stumble into the wind, the one direction I have, as lost on land as one of you in the deeps. ",
"I left him there. I could have taken him with me. I built it for two people, but he was going to die. Now I know he didn't.\n\nI must get back to the sea, I have to bring him home.",
"A drop falls and kisses me warm, oh she.\n\n\"I must get back to the sea, to the place where everyone is me,\" she whispers before she hits sands and gets washed asea.\n\nSwaying coconut tree and wave in swashes of three.\n\n\"*Wait for me*,\" I breathe as I see the sea.",
"Kyle spotted me from across the office. Great. As he penguined up to me, a big grin spread across his too large lips, I heaved a sigh the size of the room. I got up to intercept him, be all proactive and shit. \n\nHe was about to explode with conversation when I held up my hand in the universal motion for stop. \n\n\"Hey, love to chat but I must get back to the sea salt and vinegar chips.\" I pointed behind me where my half-eaten lunch lay. \n\n\"Great talk Kyle, bye.\" \n\nI turned and sat back down to a satisfying curly-cue crunch. Kyle was never the same. "
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[WP] "Of all the things I've done in my life, I'm getting sent to hell for THAT?"
| 16
|
[
"Dr Mehmed raged aloud, mustache tips gesticulating wildly as his rapidly reddening face spluttered in outrage.\n\n\"Headmaster, I must protest this most irredeemable and torturous appointment. This... social gathering... is completely unacceptable for an elderly Head of Department such as myself. Perhaps Mr Astaire from Expressive Arts should be requisitioned for such a purpose, but certainly not myself.\"\n\nThe headmaster gazed at the infuriated man before him in abject shock. Dr Mehmed had never before addressed him like this, nor his predecessors, even when he had been asked to teach during wartime, with bombs falling about the school buildings.\n\n\"My dear Dr Mehmed,\" he began, cautiously, \"I have never seen you object in such an insistent manner before. Surely you would not treat your colleague with such disrespect? And besides, you are the most qualified for this duty, even more so than our drama teachers. Your advanced certificate, as I might recall?\"\n\nDr Mehmed gripped the desk in from of him, knuckles transforming into a deathly pale white. \"Of all the things i've done in my life, i'm getting sent to hell for THAT? It was a miserable three years of research, done only so I could be better qualified to attend my insufferable uncle's wedding!\"\n\nThe headmaster smoothened his suit lapels, pausing before speech. \"A doctorate in creative arts just so you could dance at a wedding? My my Mehmed, I never knew that side of you. Anyway, you are doing this duty, no matter your squabbling. The students love you, you'll get on great. And you'll have a chance to wear your tuxedo again.\"\n\nWretched misery grew within Dr Mehmed heart. Tears began to well threateningly in his eyes, and his mustache drooped to the point of joining his long beard. \"But sir!\" he wailed, frantically. \"It...it... it's prom sir! How could you‽\" \n ",
"Adam slams his fist against his chest with a sort of boyish determination and fire. His eyes are livid with the sort of mature, masculine honesty that doesn’t really exist.\n\n“I did not kill all those people!” Adam shouts with a passionate, heartfelt rage, gazing at Satan on his black throne, head tilted back because Satan sits on a mountain of burnt bones. “I did not! I did not! I did not!”\n\n“Oh, I’m not saying you did,” Satan assures, crossing his legs. His charcoal black nails click together in a quick, upbeat tempo. “I am not saying that at all.”\n\n“I am not accusing you of accusing me,” Adam says. “After all, you know I did not! You are the devil. You know these things. Surely, you know that I did not kill all those people.”\n\n“Ha ha,” says the devil.\n\n“Ha ha,” says Adam. “Well, if that is that, I ask you to not let me near the flames of Hell. It is, after all, not my punishment to take.”\n\n“Of course,” Satan says. “Well, I would know if you did, for I am the devil, like you said. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!” Adam says.\n\n“I know you killed all those people,” Satan says, smiling.\n\n“Ha ha!” Adam says, voice strained now. “That is a funny joke.”\n\n“It is not a joke,” Satan tells him.\n\n“Well, then, I ask you, are soldiers in Hell? What of patriotism? What of the willing heart?” Adam’s voice is loud and raw again with the kind of sentiment that belongs to superheroes during the climax of a battle scene as they face their villain who has bombed an entire city and killed all of its civilians from the old grandmother to the cute pomeranian. “You cannot let me burn in Hell for killing people!”\n\n“You bombed an entire city,” Satan reminds him gently.\n\n“AS DID THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!” Adam cries in an orgy of confident authority and a burning fury of one searching for a truth, slamming a clenched fist into his open palm with the force of a judge slamming down his hammer.\n\n“Well,” Satan says, “it makes no difference to me if someone kills other people. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!” Adam says in agreement.\n\n“Still, you must burn,” Satan continues. “You have committed sins.”\n\n“I have committed no sins,” Adam says.\n\n“Ha ha!” says Satan.\n\n“I am not joking,” says Adam in the way of solemn men, like the ones in football or baseball movies who take sports teams to nationals through the power of friendship, the immense loyalty that sticks like cancer cells, and illegal steroids swallowed with a swig from sponsored Gatorade bottles. “Here is a joke, however. The chicken crossed the road, but was shot the moment he got to the other side. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!”\n\n“I have only killed a city’s worth of people, much less than the amount that died during God’s flood! I have never slept with a man! I drank no beer or vodka, only red wine, and I never did on Sunday! In fact, every Sunday, I have gone to church.” Adam rattles off his virtues with vigor until his chest is heaving.\n\n“I see.”\n\n“You are such a powerful person,” Adam adds in between pants as he struggles to regain his breath with the doggedness of a stubborn warrior. “I would truly like to lay with you in bed, perhaps, if I did not burn. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha!” Satan says. He licks his lips with a languorous and very pink tongue and sighs. “Your offer was funny. In fact, you are a very humorous person, but I am sorry. You must burn. Ha ha!”\n\n“Ha ha! Was that a joke?”\n\n“Of course not,” Satan says. “Ha ha!”\n\nAdam’s posture, previously gracefully held in flawless elegance, shifts so his chest sticks out and his shoulders are square with great pride. His glistening, emotional eyes contain wildfires.\n\n“THEN, TELL ME! WHY WILL I BURN IN HELL?”\n\n“Oh,” Satan says, “because you bombed an entire city, of course!”\n\nAdam quakes with uncontrollable wrath as though he has been confronted with the greatest injustice he has ever heard, as if his morals have been broken right in front of him with little care. “As did the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!”\n\n“That is true,” Satan says.\n\n“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” Adam states.\n\n“Ha ha!” says Satan.\n\n“Ha ha!” says Adam.\n\nSatan’s long, beautiful fingers come together to snap with a crisp, efficient slide of his fingertips. With the action, Adam catches fire. He begins to scream.\n\n“Ha ha!” laughs Satan, and watches him burn. ",
"Norman Russell leaned against the wall, lifting a cigarette to his mouth. He spoke between puffs of smoke.\n\n“So…I’m…in hell,” he said. “I figured…I’d… be here.”\n\nHe glared at the crimson man who stood before him. The man was of high stature, had slick black hair, and an equally dark goatee, which he rubbed at now. A wicked grin was stamped on the man’s face.\n\n“That is a great observation,” said the man. “My name is Satan, if that wasn’t clear enough.”\n\n“I’m…Norman.”\n\n“I realized.” Satan laughed dryly. Then, without warning, he shot forward and grabbed Norman’s cigarette. He tossed it in a fiery pit beside Norman. “No smoking in hell,” chimed Satan.\n\n“Right. That’s why I’m here isn’t it?”\n\n“Nope,” said Satan. “Guess again!”\n\nNorman let out a heavy breath. He lifted his hand to his temple and massaged it gently. “Look, I didn’t mean to kill that man. He was with my wife, and I was…”\n\n“It’s not about that either.”\n\nNorman shook his head. “What then? Bullying that kid in high school? Selling rocks? Gambling?”\n\n“Wrong.” Satan sighed. “Listen. Do you remember that English test in high school? About the bible?”\n\nNorman shrugged. “Think so.”\n\n“You misspelled God’s name. Norman, the word is three letters! Three! How do you spell that wrong?”\n\n“I don’t know. Why?”\n\n“Well,” said Satan. “God is tolerant of everything. He knows how hard I work, and so now he lets about everyone in heaven. But now? Now I’m stuck with you, because you couldn’t spell God!” Satan let out a shaky breath. Then, after a moment, he glanced up at Norman. Norman was stunned.\n\n“Of all the things I’ve done in my life, I’m getting sent to hell for THAT?!”\n\n“Yes. Have fun,” said Satan. He snapped his fingers and a large blackboard fell next to Norman. Satan extended his palm, in which lay a long, white piece of chalk. Norman knew what he had to do. He sighed, walked up to the board, and began writing the word “God,” over and over again. \n\nHe would do this for all of eternity. \n_____________________________________________________________________________\n\nThank you for reading! Please, if you have any feedback or advice, let me know!\n",
"\"H-helloo..?\"\n\nMy voice echoed down the dark and empty passage. I could hear the fear and insecurities grow louder for each echo that passed.\nIt was cold. It was dark. \"Am i all alone?\" I thought to myself. All i could feel was the unsettling cold coming from the darkness of that tunnel, almost as if winds were blowing.\nI didn't dare, no, I physically *couldn't* move my legs. I was paralyzed with fear, even breathing felt impossible. How did i get here?\n\nThen it came back to me, with a blinding flash i was back on that crossing in broad daylight, making my way over to that little sandwich shop everyone at the office was talking about. The wind was blowing strong and I could even smell the teryaki chicken and bacon cooking. But then the ticking of the crossing light stopped, and the light turned red right as i'd made it about halfway across. I turned my head to the left, bright lights flashing, and as my ears exploded in pain from the loud noises I suddenly felt a numbing... whack. As if the hit should've knocked me miles and miles away, or straight down into the ground, yet i was still standing. And when i opened my eyes i was once again standing in that cold, pitch-black passage.\n\nAnother flash of light, and a red, high-burning fire flared up right before my eyes. The crackle of the flame brought me back to campfires for some reason. But as the flame vanished I realized what had taken place in front of me. Or 'who'.\n\nHe was tall and wide, with dark circles under his bright red eyes and his hair was a dark shade of grey. The intimidating frame was lit up by paths of fire softly burning behind him.\nSatan.\n\n\"Jonathan Crowley\" he said, his voice deep and effortlessly loud. \"You have lived a life in sin, and will now pay the price. Your eternal punishm...\"\n\n\"-Whoa, whoa, whoa!\" I abruptly shouted. Was I really doing this? Was i really interrupting Satan as he was damning me for eternity? I guess I was.\n\n\"I'm dead? And going to *hell*?! For what?\"\n\nHis eyes caught me, almost like they gripped me from my very soul. I was once more unable to move.\n\n\"For your sins, you shall be punished.\" He said.\n\nI felt an ice cold stream spread through my body, almost like a fear i've never felt before.\n\nMeh, fuck it. I was dead already. \"But why?\" I pushed on. \"I've lied, okay? more than once, but i hardly feel like eternal damnation is fair punishment! I've cheated. Tests, partners, my career... I've done a lot of scummy things to get ahead, I know. But I regret it. The time i hit that dog on the road was a pure accident! I would've turned back, but it was dead already! And all dogs go to heaven, right?\" I felt cold sweat run down my back. I was going to vomit.\n\nSatan walked up to me, standing inches away and bent down to face me at eye level. He smelled of soot and ashes. His eyes chased a panic into me i'd never known before. \"You are a scum indeed. But the one thing i can't forgive, why you shall be damned for all eternity...\"\n\nIce-cold air filled my lungs. It made its way through my skin, chasing every last ounce of warmth out of me. A screech, almost like metal nails on a chalkboard but amplified, started ecoing through my brain, the background noise of staring into the eyes of Satan.\n\nThe screech grew louder, i could feel the ice reach my fingertips, my toes, my very soul. My heartbeat got faster, but i felt my blood slow down, like the pressure couldn't pump the blood anymore...\n\n\"I send you to hell, to forever be in suffering and agony you've never before known, for you never paid your WinRAR. The simplest thing you could've done would have saved your soul. Yet, you didn't. Because you thought they just did a miss. That you could get away with it.\"\n\nThe screeching left my ears ringing. I felt the shockwaves of my very core trying to pump around the syrup that had become in my veins. It got harder to breathe.\n\n\"You chose to live a life of deceit instead of virtue, and in the eyes of the divine you have failed. And for that, you have a place in hell.\"\n\nThe ice stung, the screech had my ears scream for mercy, and i drew the last breaths i had the strength to draw.\n\nThen all of a sudden, it all let go. It all went dark. And all that was left, was nothing. For all eternity. All because i hadn't paid for my WinRAR."
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[WP]An unplanned extinction even destroys all human life on Earth. But there are still those that reside in the ISS and can't do anything to get out.
| 16
|
[
"I woke up in the fetal position, made awkward by the tethers securing me to my bed. There were dry tears on my face and pillow, and I had messed up my coverings and nearly undone my tethering in my sleep.\n\nI slowly floated to the *Destiny*, the US lab onboard the ISS, and our unofficial base of operations. The others, Volkov, Kornienko (Mik), Lindgren (Lin), Kononenko (Kon), and Yui, were already up. They were all moving around in a semi comatose state, still too shocked to actually confront the reality of what we had all witnessed the day before. \n\nI still couldn't get the image of the huge asteroid colliding with the Earth out of my head, so I knew what they were going through. \n\nWe hadn't seen it coming. It had been expected to barely miss the Earth and head on towards the sun, but the idiot who had done the trajectory calculations had failed to account for the moon's slight gravitational pull, and the hundreds of idiots who had checked his math hadn't corrected his mistake, at least, not until it was too late for nukes to solve the issue.\n\n\"Ok crew,\" my voice croaked out, \"As far as we know, we are the only humans left in the universe. That puts a lot of weight on our shoulders. Now, the way I see it, we have two options. \n\n\"Either A, we give up, realizing that humanity is now essentially extinct. After all, we're six men in space, we have limited supplies, and even the eggs that were deep underground in storage back on Earth are probably destroyed, so even if we do manage to get back to the ground and find it not completely devoid of life, we're probably fucked. \n\n\"Or B, we attempt, against all odds, to keep the human race alive. Unity is more important than anything, so I think we should put it to a vote. If at least 3 of you want to live for as long as you can, and try to keep the human race alive against almost insurmountable odds, than we'll go for it. However, if at least 3 of you would rather follow the rest of humanity's footsteps, that's understandable too. I, as the commander, will not be voting on this issue.\"\n\nThe first three votes were expected. Yui, ever the optomist, was an immediate yea, whereas Mik, who had loved his family more than anyone else I had ever known, croaked out a tearful \"nay\" before leaving, presumably to go back to his quarters. Lin followed Yui with another \"yea\", as he always did, though there was an uncharecteristic note of doubt in his voice.\n\nHowever, I had no idea which way Mik or Volkov would go. They both looked pensive, so I told them that they had the rest of the day to decide. \n\n----------------------------\n\nMik came first. He gave me a look of lost hope, said \"nay\", and continued on towards the *Leonardo*.\n\nThat put the vote at 2 to 2.\n\n----------------\n\nI, as the commander, had decided that my vote shouldn't matter. I would lead the men in whatever direction they wanted to follow. However, I know wish I could have taken that back. The thing is, the longer this day has gone on, and the longer I've waited for Volkov to make up his damn mind, the more I've wanted to live.\n\n-------------------\n\nHe woke me from my second night of an unrestful slumber. I saw fear, despair, and determination on his face, as he whispered out the word \"yea\".\n\nI don't know how, but I'm, no, *We're*, going to live.\n",
"The first time I saw earth from space, it was so breath taking. That feeling of just pure bliss how that blue marble was what we called home. But all good things must end. That blue beauty below started to glow so bright when we got the message, \"Armageddon is at hand, nukes are in flight.\" One after another, the bright flashes consumed the earth until the sapphire homeland turned to grey. Our comrade ensured us that Russia would still survive whatever the U.S. would throw their way.... Too bad they wouldn't fair well to the unexpected visitors from across the stars.",
"I watched from the window, I saw as the object came near to Earth, yet it stopped. It stayed there, motionless and stationary.\n\nDespite it being in space, I could still hear the noise that came from it, I still felt the rumble.\n\n\n\"SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT\".\n\nThe Earth disappeared.",
"We watched from the windows, the rockets, visible from the ISS launched and landed. Hundreds of them from everywhere. We watched the sky grow dark, communication was lost in a matter of minutes. We were in the dark. We had enough food to last three weeks, a month if we pushed it but my family was down there. The last I seen of them my wife was four days ago. Andrea hugged me, wishing me a safe journey and a quick return. She kissed me in the cheek, promising me her homemade chicken strips, she knew they were my favourite crunchy and sweet. My daugher was old enough to know I was leaving but didn't know how long. She probably thought it was just another day of work. I never left her longer than that, she was my everything I loved her so much. I hugged her tight and promised i'd be home soon. I miss her already. I'll never have her meal, never hold her and my daughter again. I knew, we knew. We seen our future, our everything extinguished in an hour. It took humanity an hour to destroy everything it worked so hard to create. I wonder what's the cost of gas now?\n\nIts been two weeks and of the twelve of us that were left of us now only five remain. Amanda went to bed and just never woke up, she was just engaged. Yuri went for a space walk, the first one to volunteer since the world ended. We thought he was so brave for it, all the satellites had gone offline and were torn into pieces. chunks of metal flying at a speed high enough to put a hole in you. He took of his helmet the moment the doors closed. The others locked themselves in their rooms, blocked the filtration and died of carbon dioxide. \nThe hatch opened quietly, I didn't bother connecting myself to anything, it would matter anyways. Once out I closed it and took a final glance at home. The smoke and radiation blocked out the sun. What was once blue and green was grey and black. I've been alive for far to long, I've decided its time to meet my family again, where ever they've gone, away from this hell all we've known has become. I'll see you again Andrea, we'll be a family again I promise. I took off my helmet."
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[WP] What killed the dinosaurs had nothing to do with the meteorite hitting Earth, but what came out of it...
| 35
|
[
"200 million years ago the Son of the Morning waged a war on the Abyss. With a flaming greatsword bigger than most buildings, Lucifer cut away reality and ushered thousands upon thousands of angels through the rip and into a war. Hundreds died simply by entering the reality that was the Abyss. It was a forsaken place, existing even before God brought light to the universe. Filled with some beings large enough to blot out our sun and others somewhat similar in size and shape to a humanoid creation. For years the war raged on and on, with Lucifer always at the front line traveling deeper and deeper into the Abyss. Until finally heaven's army came upon a planet the creatures of the Abyss were spawned from. The Morningstar took it upon himself to see this planet destroyed. Some say the miasma from it's final implosion was what led to the Fall of the mightiest angel. As their campaign came to a close they hunted through the darkness for any remaining piece of the planet. Finally, heaven's army returned to the Golden Gates victorious. Never having known that a single projectile had escaped their notice. For millions of years that meteorite from the Abyss tumbled through space before finally landing on a small, blue planet in the Milky Way galaxy. ",
"*Excerpts from \"How We Learned to Love the Meteor, by Arthur Bugler, published in* Really Popular Science *, August 2028*.\n\nMan, I wish I didn't have to say this... \"Science went too far\". It sounds terrible, doesn't it? Between the religious nutjobs trying to stifle scientific progress under the guise of science \"going too far\" or most science-fiction disaster movies being based on that theme, I really thought I'd never have to say or write these words and mean them. And still...\n\nI'm a paleontologist. I've been in the field more than most paleontologists over my career, and I was one of the lucky few to discover a whole new species - *Archonychus buglerii*, a high-altitude mountain theropod - but that's only part of my work. What I'm most proud of is that I've been involved in a number of conferences, study groups and, well, \"task forces\" was the term. These were formed of a group of prehistoric specialists - paleologists, paleobiologists, paleoclimatologists and all the other paleosomethingists you can think of - to crack open a problem that stymied one of the disciplines. Try to see an issue from another angle, if you will. \"Task Force\" is a bit pompous, but we really only chose that word in good fun, we never saw ourselves a generals or conquerors - just glasses-and-pocket-protectors nerds having a never-ending flamewar over email.\n\nOf course, by now you all know what Task Force Katie was supposed to hammer away at. The name was a giveaway anyway - we wanted to look over the K-T extinction theory again. The theory was almost complete, but there are of course competing theories and hypotheses, as is always the case in academia. What we wanted to do was iron out the details, dig into the minutiae we didn't know yet, and solidify the \"meteor impact\" theory as the one that really happened. We had the resources, but as we dug into the data, more and more problems came up. As we churned through more facts at the same time than any other team had even done, we kept finding more and more holes in the theory. Still, we couldn't bring ourselve to say it outright, always choosing to weasel out of it with words like \"Inconsistencies\" and \"adjusting the theory\", until one of our climate experts spelled it out in an email:\n\n*\"The K-T theory of a meteor crashing down and causing catastrophic climate change just doesn't work, guys. Something else has to factor in\"*, he said. He was right, the K-T event as we knew it then didn't work out anymore. So we turned to field work. The Chixculub crater was still the best bet for the impact location, so we sent a team there. Without approval from our universities, our sponsors or the Mexican authorities. I am fully aware of the violation of international sovereignty that represents, and I will be present to explain myself if and when the Mexican courts decide to indict me. Being free of all oversight, we had the maneuvering room to look at stuff we'd never had our hands on before, and our paleogeologists found new information on the probable composition of the meteor. As before, it was full of stuff that didn't occur naturally on Earth in large quantities, but instead of iridium, it was... Well, we didn't know what the heck it was, actually. As far as we knew, it could well be a new element. We called it \"Cretacium\" temporarily and set about finding more of it.\n\nBy that time, we'd all become a little obsessed with finding out the truth. So when we found out that a lot of old villages, including some Mayan groups, had artifacts that seemed to be made of pure cretacium, we tried to buy it off them. When they refused, we collected our grant money and called Executive Measures.\n\nThat's another thing I'll have to pay for when the courts summon me. I make no excuses for it, what that PMC had to do to get the artefacts... I prefer not to know too much about it. Doesn't mean I don't share a part of responsibility.\n\nStill, we got the truth out of it. Cretacium isn't just something that doesn't occur naturally on Earth; it doesn't occur naturally at all. It's an artificial compound, requiring amounts of energy and pressure to manufacture that all or Earth's furnaces and power stations together still wouldn't be able to generate. The civilization - because we can't call it otherwise - that made the \"meteor\" must have reached a level of technological progress that only belongs to sci-fi.\n\nAt that point, Task Force Katie had to come out to the public with its findings. It wasn't exactly easy at first, but people ended up convinced by the artefacts and the cretacium. We got more money and physicists, particle accelerators to test the compound. And that's when we got the big find.\n\nCretacium generates ridiculous amounts of radiation when under certain conditions. That's literally how the physics expert said it, \"ridiculous amounts\", nothing else. But K-T radiation is unique. It induces acute, immediate and lethal radiation sickness in animals above a certain weight, leaves others unscathed, and does not stick to the environment for more than three millenia - exceedingly short for radiation. The amounts of K-T radiation released by the artefacts we got were huge, so by extrapolating the meteor's weight, we realised the K-T radiation could affect the whole world of the Mesozoic. And the conditions required for the meteor to generate radiation were roughly similar to those of atmospheric re-entry.\n\nAt first we thought we'd got the idea. The meteor was a weapon of mass destruction, too small to devastate the environment but releasing a very specialised wave to kill off large animals the world over... To pave the way for colonization, perhaps? That would have made sense, although the distinct absence of colonization was a hole in that theory. Until we hit the second big find...\n\nCretacium could encode biological information in a mineral medium. More specifically, genetic information. The meteor was a genetic library of sorts, carrying a load of DNA to infect and modify nearby compatible lifeforms and mutate them over time into whatever the target was.\n\nWell, our geneticists puzzled over that one, until they realised what the target actually was...\n\nUs. The meteor held the entire human genome. The K-T extinction had released parasitic capsules of human DNA into the atmosphere, where it latched on to some of the surviving mammals in what would become Africa and mutated them over millions of years into early primates, then early hominids, then into us.\n\nYou know what the release of that knowledge did to human society. Knowing humanity as a whole was of alien origin destabilized most religions. Some of them saw it as proof of a Creator, and I can't see why I'd disagree - although I'm not as certain as they are as to the nature of that Creator. Others turned to a sort of communal self-hatred, seeing humanity as one global virus, infecting an Earth we were never native to. I never thought I'd see a hippy apologizing to a rock on behalf of all of \"parasitic Humanity\" in my lifetime. The number of suicide cults that appeared in some of the more spiritual cultures... That was creepy.\n\nWhat I am somewhat proud of though, is seeing Humanity turn to the stars. The space programs were never really of interest to me - I'm more of a down-in-the-earth person, or paleontology wouldn't have appealed to me - but now, everybody's watching as every single nation and company is building its space probe. We're going to be on the Moon soon, on Mars not long after, and then what? Titan, Europa, Venus?\n\nSome of us chose to see humanity as a parasite on an innocent Earth. I prefer the idea that we were babies, left on a safe planet to grow and prosper away from harm. Now we've grown up, and we're coming home.\n\nWe're coming home.",
"STARLOG -=GALACTIC YEAR 13x^9=-\n\n**Incoming transmission\n\n.\n..\n...\n\nTransmission Verified Sector [134.2]**\n\nHello? Hello? Command station?This is High General Farc of Legion Gamma, Reporting from Planet 00014523. The transport ship was hit by an unscheduled solar disturbance on our way to frontlines. We have lost approximately 1300 infantry unites in the crash and twice that to the primitive natives of this miserable hunk of rock. The ecosystem is degrading our filters at an accelerated rate, and without proper supplies we will run out of necessary supplies within the week. With the Commanders permission I would like to put the few engineers we have left on repairing the Thermonuclear Tesla. I know it seems risky, being that we lack many of the necessary parts for monitoring the system but with a little scrugar grease and ingenuity we might be able to pull it off.\n\nGeneral Farc Signing off\n\n*END OF TRANSMISSION*\n\n\n**Note of station alpha, a total of 134 galactic time frames passed from the signals broadcast before a large disturbance was tracked to General Farcs location of transmission. A team of 13 scout ships have been dispaced**\n\n",
"The lumbering masses of duck billed or three horned beasts slightly rose their heads when they sensed the weird hissing sound coming from the skies.\n\nNone of those could understand, of course. They just glimpsed this weird gigantic rock spotted with an acne of craters, metallic and sad looking, eons from the damp and lush vegetation that surrounded it. It wasn't falling on earth, but slowly landing on its surface. When it peacefully touched the volcanic ashes and thorny, unwelcoming vegetation that matted it, part of the structure fell, letting two blobby, purple, gigantic floating figures slither out of it and explore its earth as two pantagruelic, marvelous zeppelins.\n\n\"Wow, it refilled well from last time we checked, ain't true Ma ? Dinner will be plentiful I see !\"\n\n\"You should be careful with how much you take, Pa. Look at you, you're just too fat.\" said Ma while poking the five miles wide creature with three thousand of its indexes. \"Because of your gluttony we had to wait two hundred millions years more to have a decent biomass for harvest.\"\n\n\"But Maaa, those trilobites were so tasty ! And those Conodont filled blastoid escalopes you prepare so well !\"\n\n\"Enough is enough, Pa ! You should lose weigh, end of the story. For now you will be restricted to a strict diet of two thousand tons of Jellyfishes and pelagic tunicates. At least those cholesterol-less creatures didn't went extinct last time you ransacked the earth !\"\n\nMa carefully probed the atmosphere and litosphere with her odd instruments and five thousand arms. Pouting, Pa waited to wander somewhere where Ma wouldn't look at. \"This continent seems fine enough\" he thought. \"Perhaps there are a gigaton or two of suitable biomass to get my teeth into\"…\n\nHe looked down. \"heh\" he asked himself \"why not trying this weird three horned fat guy with a beak ? He seems fine enough\" he lifted a flock and put it in his twenty miles wide mouth. \"mmmh, well this is some damn fine tetrapod. And what about those funny little beaked ones ?\"\n\n…\n\n\"Pa !\"\n\n\"what Maaa ?\"\n\nWhat did you do again ? Look at that ! The earth is a *mess* now ! You wiped out all the non avian archosaurs ! And... and where are the damn ammonites ?? You even gulped out the pterosaurs ! Those aren't even fleshy !\" she protested while pinching the now swollen, rubbery plasmic ectoderm of his husband of 40 billions years. \n\n\"But maa, I was hungry !\"\n\n\"You couldn't even wait for dinner ! What a dork you are !\"\n\nShe inspected the horizon, sighting a stratospheric anticyclone or two, searching for a glimpse of life that could regrow from the now barren land.\n\n\"I hope there will be some creature small enough to crawl underground to evolve into something bigger in a few millions. Now hurry and pray that there'll be something growing there next time we wake up !\"\n\nThey hurried in the meteoritic craft before lifting toward the Kuiper belt, while she carefully set her alarm clock on her bedside table to a certain time according to her charts and analysis. \"Oh noo Maa, I don't wanna wake up so soon tomorrow !\"\n\n\"you gonna have to get used to it. It's the only way you can follow your regime Arny\"\n\n65:00:00 years. ",
"I always was somewhat of an adventurer. And a archeologist. Always craving for excitment. A regular, organized dig up in some Middle Eastern country wasn't enough for me. I wanted to find it myself. Way more exciting. I know what you're thinking, this sounds like it's straight out of a comic book or some movie, but this is as real as it gets. But what I did have in common with a comic book hero is that I needed a sidekick. He didn't like that title, so I just call him Richard, which, well, is his name. Richard and I met in college. He is like me, an archeologist, but I brought him because he is my best friend. After some research on the possible location of many ancient meterorites, our journey brought us to a cave somewhere in Argentina. We dug, and dug for many hours, until it was getting dark. We did this every day, for about a week. Naturally, Richard started to question if we should continue. \"Is this all worth it?\", he asked. But I insisted. \"There's nothing down there, Jake.\" But my gut was telling me there was. There had to be. All the research lead to this country, in *this* cave. The meteorites *had* to be here. \"They will be here.\" I reassured him. But he looked visibly annoyed. \"I'll tell you what, if we don't find anything after sunset, we'll stop. We'll go back to our hotels and take the next plane home.\" Richard seemed to be okay with it. So we digged for a few more hours, and I bear with me for a moment, because I know this sounds like a stupid movie cliché, but it *really* happened. Just before sundown, we found an opening. A cave inside the cave. When we took a look, to our amazement it was a huge cave, filled with about twelve meteors. They didn't look like they struck there. There where no craters. So someone must've moved them. This made us decide to stick around for a while to study them. You might ask yourself \"Why doesn't he just reveal his discovery? He can ask for help.\" And you're right. But you have to understand I'm a selfish man. *I* found this.*I* want to study it. The meteors all were laying in a perfecttly straight line. Someone stored them here. And the material didn't seem normal for a meteor. It was unlike anything we'd ever seen. And another interesting thing was that they were hollow. Except one. We had trouble opening the last meteor. The twelfth. It was being held together by something. We tried almost everything. Even explosives didn't do the trick. Then Richard spilled some water on the meteor. This had an unusual effect. Part of it started glowing. That was the only thing that had an effect. So we decided to get *a lot* of water. Really a lot. And we poured all of it over the twelfth meteor. And it started glowing. It got brighter and brighter, nearly blinded us. And when the light was gone, the meteor was in it's normal shape again. With the dust clearing up, we saw a man. A human. He saw us, smiled, and he said \"Hi.\"\n__________\nI think it kind of sucks, but I'd love feedback, and if you like it, let me know.",
"\"Roaarrrrrr\", exclaimed Dino#1. \" Rooooaaarrrr\", Dino#2 responded with. The meteor hit the ground with a green mist flowing out of it. Surprisingly, the wasn't a dent on the ground. But, what could have fallen from the sky, with such an impact, and not have left a mark, the Dino's wondered. Until, all of a sudden a \"s-s-s-smoke...\" Was heared, almost as if on repeat. The Dino's wandered towards the now smoking meteor. \"Roooaarrrrr\", said dino#1 as they saw an object through the dense doing what appeared to be a dance. All of a sudden the smoke turned green, and the sound seemed to continue, \"SMOKE WEED EVERDAY\". The dank Dogg danced out of the smoke and every dino exploded from his extreme dankess.\n\nEdit: Damn my phone turned dankness into darkness."
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[
"1447081026",
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"1447084132",
"1447084454",
"1447080733",
"1447075265"
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|
[WP] A lonely light beckoned.
| 7
|
[
"Diving \n\nSince the dawn of time, he has gazed out into the great blue beyond in wonder, fascination, and fear. Even today, man knows more about the dark side of the moon than he does about the bottom of the earth's oceans. What he has found there, in the depths, has managed to astonish him beyond what he might have thought possible: fireworks of bioluminescent beasts, with nightmarish faces that might have stricken even Lovecraft's tormented mind with fear. \nBut there are things beyond fear. \n\n\nMohammad's wide eyes watched darkness fall gradually around the sub as it dropped beneath the thin blue skin of the Pacific Ocean. The sun had hung high in the sky when he had stood on the deck of the SS Ward, and had blinded him as he and his crew had waited to get in the submarine and depart. The heat, coupled with the excitement, had made him sweat profusely, covering him in a shimmery, slightly odorous glaze that had kept his crew standing just a bit further away from him. Now, inside the metal hull, his body was cooling off, but his heart continued to pound like a drum, faster than ever as the rays of the sun began to disappear. He felt a chill as it got darker, shivers running through his body. His hands on the foot thick glass of the sub, he stared out. The convex nature of the glass allowed him to also look down, which took some mental effort on his part. When he finally did look down, he felt a strange sense of vertigo, and had to step away from the glass as he got dizzy. Without at least a peripheral view of the surface of the ocean, he had become disoriented. He stumbled into one of the seats, beside David, who had been asleep. He looked up at Mohammad, obvious displeasure on his face. \n\"Mo, seriously?\"\nMohammad looked at him apologetically as David sat up, rubbing his eyes. \n\"Ah, cmon, Dave, lighten up!\" \nChip's raspy voice made Mo and David turn their heads. The old man, wispy white hair clinging to his liver spotted skull, long nose buried in a book, hadn't even looked up to see what David had been complaining about.\nDavid nearly retorted, but thought better of it, crossing his arms and slumping into his chair, staring at the dials that swung back and forth on the wall of the sub. Mohammad watched him, observing his colleague's fingers tap in an unsteady rhythm against his tattooed forearm. Every so often, David's eyes would dart to the darkening window of the sub. \n\"You ok, Dave?\", Chip inquired. \n\"Yup.\"\nDavid kept his eyes on the gauges, most often focusing on the one indicating steadily rising depth. Beside it, the pressure gauge rose along with it. \n\"Hey, Dave, you ever hear the story about the guys who did one of these in the Marianna Trench?\", Chip asked, a teasing note to his voice. David didn't answer. \n\"They were a couple thousand feet down, and they hear this loud bang, like a gunshot.\"\nMohammad looked over to Chip, whose old eyes glinted mischievously at him. \n\"Yeah, I've heard this one\", David said, not turning around. \n\"Turns out, there was so much pressure, it cracked the glass. That glass was almost a foot thick, too. Can you imagine the kinda pressure there had to be? You know, in space, all you really need is oxygen and a suit, but down here, you need armor like a tank just so you don't get crushed.\"\nDavid turned to Chip. \n\"Please stop.\"\nChip chuckled, shaking his head. \n\"Come on, Dave, I'm just toying with you.\"\nHe got up, and walked up next to David, putting his hand on his shoulder. \n\"We're safe in this thing. It's at least twice as sturdy as the clunker they drove down here back then, and that one made it out as well. We'll do fine.\"\nDavid's shoulders relaxed a bit, and he exhaled in a deep sigh. Mohammad turned back to the window, staring out into the deep blue. It was almost black, flowing around them like ink. He walked over to the window, staring out past the glass into it. \nSuddenly, a speck of yellow light made his heart jump. \nDavid had seen it too, and, with an apprehensive look on his face, stood up, joining Mohammad by the window. Chip stood a ways back, watching as well. \nAnother speck briefly popped up, then another. \nMohammad's face lit up as he noticed that the little lights were, in fact, springing from small, shrimp like creatures with tiny fins on their sides. The backs of their exoskeletons shot little sparks of light into the blackness. \nDavid let out a small chuckle, his arms still crossed, still clearly anxious. \nBut as the next spectacle came into view, his arms fell to his sides, and his jaw dropped:\nA massive squid, at least five feet long, drifted towards the sub. Its body pulsed with bright red light that flowed up and down its powerful arms. It reached out, touching the glass, examining it, huge black eyes meeting those of Mohammad. Timidly, he put his hand up, touching it to the glass, where the squid's arm was. \nSuddenly, it darted off in pursuit of a fish that glowed bright blue, its body long and spindly, organs visible through translucent skin. Within seconds, the squid was on it, and there was a puff of light blue as the fish was absorbed into the red beast. \n\"Damn\", escaped David's lips, his eyes fixed on the brilliant light shows that had erupted outside. \nA tiny cuttlefish darted through a swarm of bioluminescent jellyfish, towards a small, brightly glowing bulb of light. Unaware of that which lay behind that light, it charged at it, not realizing it had in this moment become pray of a deadly beast: An angler fish's jaw darted forward, swallowing it whole, it's jaw seeming to unhinge from its hideous face. \nIn the distance, a creature almost longer than imaginable, looking like a massive spinal cord, tendrils falling down from its serpentine body, drifted along, unaware of them, passively scavenging the waters around it for microscopic meanderers. \nLike living fireworks display, the world exploded before them, almost casting shadows within the water. Only very few other people of this earth had ever had the chance to personally witness what the three men in this sub were laying eyes on. It was truly one of the most beautiful things any of them had ever seen. Even Chip, who had done expeditions such as this one before, stood, mesmerized. \nBut with time, as the sub sank deeper, the lights began to die down again, and, after the last of the jellyfish, their bodies motionless, save for the stripes of light crawling across their them, had passed, they were in darkness again. And still diving. \nThe pressure around the sub was almost palpable. The sub seemed to shrink around them as the outside grew ever blacker. \nDavid sat back in his chair, tapping his fingers again, a bead of sweat running down his temple. \nMohammad, pulled up a chair, and sat at the window, watched the blackness. It was almost more hypnotic than the light shows those creatures had put on. \nIn the night sky, there is almost always the moon, or the stars, to keep one company. This was different, Mohammad observed. There was no light beyond his reflection in the glass, no moon, no North Star to guide them home. It was simply blackness, darker than many a man might be able to fathom. A feeling of blindness overcame him as he stared out, losing his perception of time, of himself, and he had to blink a couple of times to keep himself from drifting off. The calm of it was so beautifully haunting, the way it almost called out, so empty, a void to be filled, to be explored, so perfectly empty. \nHe felt himself drifting off. \nAs it glinted before him, he was convinced he was hallucinating. He willed himself awake, standing up, shaking his head to clear it. But as he looked back, it had not gone: out, in the blackness, the untainted void of the sea, a lonely light beckoned. Mohammad's heart began to race as he watched it, just sitting there, in the distance. Or perhaps it was right in front of him. He had no way of telling, there was no reference point. \nDavid and Chip had both gotten up to see what he was staring at. He heard both their breaths catch as they realized they, too, were not hallucinating. \n\"What... What is it?\", David asked. \n\"I don't know\", Chip answered, his voice far away. \n\"I'm gonna turn on the headlights\", David decided, walking over to the console. \n\"No, Dave, stop, we want to examine the wildlife, we don't want to disturb it.\"\n\"Well, we can't examine it if we can't see it.\"\nChip sighed, and waved his hand. \nDavid nodded, flipping a switch. There was a loud click as the sub's headlights came on. \n\n\nWhen, years ago, the two men had descended into the Marianna Trench, hearing and feeling the hull of their ship crack under the pressure, that had been fear. Any rational human would have experienced it in that moment. It is a feeling most have, to varying degrees, felt in their life. \nBut what these three men saw when those lights came on, when the veil of darkness was lifted, what they experienced, it was something far beyond that, beyond fear, a nameless emotion that scorches inward to the very depths of consciousness and corrodes every last iota of sanity, pulverizing the soul.\nWhat stared back at these men, what returned an unblinking, unwavering gaze that brought Chip's heart to fail, and sent David and Mohammad into a fit of rabid mindlessness, cannot be explained in words.\nLanguage as of yet cannot do justice to the immensity of it, for the human mind does not possess the ability to make even an ounce of sense out of it. \n\n\nThe men that were removed from the adrift submarine three days after the incident were unrecognizable. Blank, wide stares dominated by dilated pupils and slack jaws were all that remained of these once bright men. \nMohammad only writes in indecipherable scribbles, and David only cries and screams. Neither will speak of the light in the darkness. \nNeither will recall the day the lonely light appeared. ",
"Dr Mehmed sighed. Then cursed inwardly. Whatever was it now? The current time was bordering on half past three, and this was the third time he had been summoned from slumber by the gentle vibration of his mobile telecommunication device, nestled neatly beneath his pillow. One day trips taxed his nerves enough, but a week long residential trip? That was capitulation served neatly on a platter.\n\nThe doctor stared forlornly at his clock, then heaved himself out of the sheets, muttering turgid oaths targeted at the jittery teenage girls and boys residing in the huge cabin along with him.\n\nHe stumbled unsteadily toward the door, scattering assorted underwear garments and tempting a large photograph frame to soar from the bedside cabinet. Quickly patting his distressed mustache down, he continued.\n\nInwardly loosing one final vile expletive, Dr Mehmed pulled open the door, peering into the inky blackness of the corridor, lined with further doors. Looming in the distance, betwixt two pale doorframes, a lonely light beckoned, ghostly beams dispersing eerily into the darkness.\n\nDr Mehmed blinked, blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the bright contrast. Whoever had caused the disturbance this time? His eyes narrowed, surveying the dark expanse.\n\nThere! Amid the doorframes, silhouetted against the glow. A lone teenage girl, uncomfortable in it's unnatural habitat, long brown hair un-neatly spread over her pink pyjama shoulders. Her face, milky from the low light, was paled even more.\n\n\"Siiiiiiiiiir!\" she wailed. \"There's a spider in my roooooom!\"\n\nDr Mehmed sighed. \n\n \n "
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3
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[
"1447136842",
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[WP] Turns out the guy who claimed to be "a fucking navy seal trained in the art of gorilla warfare" wasn't lying, and you were the one to piss him off
| 29
|
[
"When I first saw his comment, I just laughed it off. It was so over-the-top, so ridiculous, and read like it was written by some kid in junior high. Three hundred confirmed kills? Secret network of spies? Kill me in seven hundred different ways, and those just with his bare hands? It was hilarious, actually.\n\nI certainly wasn't laughing now.\n\nHere he was, standing over me. I'd sat on my living room couch, right where he'd told me. He wasn't the fourteen-year-old that I'd pictured. His scowling face was criss-crossed with scars. His massive tattooed biceps strained at the sleeves of his black t-shirt. He was barrel-chested and wore a pistol at his waist, a bandolier of grenades across his chest (Was he really planning on using all twelve of those on me?) and a massive, gleaming sniper rifle slung over his back. His massive arms were crossed over his chest, and he stared down at me with contempt.\n\n\"I told you I'd find you, you little punk.\" His voice was a baritone rumble. \"Now it's time for you to pay the fucking piper.\" He drew his pistol and cocked it.\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait!\" I held up my hands in front of me. \"How do I know that you're who you said you were?\"\n\n\"What?\" The guy asked. \"What do you mean?! Just look at me!\" He spread his hands.\n\n\"Yeah, but where's your network of spies? How do I know about all those confirmed kills? And you're just going to shoot me? You don't know seven-hundred different ways to kill someone. You're not even *using* your bare hands!\"\n\n\"I sure as fuck do, and if I could I'd show you every single one.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe you can't show me, but you could at least tell me.\"\n\nHe scoffed. \"You're just stalling, kid.\"\n\n\"See? I bet you only know how to aim that pistol and pull the trigger. Just get this over with.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?!\" He holstered the pistol. \"All right, you little bitch. Get comfortable. I'm going to tell you every single way that I know how to kill a man, and *not* just with my bare hands, either. Then, I'm going to pick the very best way to take you out. In fact, you're going to *help* me choose!\"\n\nI rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a ray of hope. \"Fine,\" I said. I tried not to smile. Time to go Arabian Nights on this guy's ass.",
"(my first, also for some reason my formatting is screwed up)\nEDIT: Thanks /u/T3chnopsycho for formatting\nI didn't know what to expect.\n \nIt was just a normal day, three hours of CS:GO. I've always been a Valve fan at heart. Three hundred plus on Counter-Strike, One hundred plus on Team Fortress 2. So I really didn't like other games that much, since it was so different.\n\nI have this friend, Jesse. He's been bugging me to try something new, stop being a stick in the mud. It always ends the same, I just walk away.\nWell today, he had something different in mind. He came to my house, $20 Wallet Point gift card in hand. I was cheap as fuck, so when I saw it, my eyes went the size of dinner plates.\n\"Jesus, who's the lucky guy or girl?\" I said.\n\"You.\" Jesse replied, \"Only if, you play this.\"\nHe threw over a copy of Call of Duty. I just stared.\n\"Are you serious?\" I told him, \"Bribery?\"\n\"I know you want it.\"\nI thought about it.\nWell, not really. \"Deal.\" I can get some cheap weapon skins anyway for my game.\nI opened the disc case and removed the disc. A soldier with metal all over his body. Can this game get any more original? I opened the disc reader on my potato PC and placed the disc inside to install it.\n\nIt was a very quick install. I breezed through it, then afterwards launched the game.\nI was greeted with a logo, some random action music thing blasting me in the face.\n\nFast forward a few minutes, and I was in multiplayer, killing people to death.\nI remember this guy, he was crap. He didn't know basic controls, he didn't know what the game was about. So I decided to call him out.\n\"Ha, you suck. Learn how to use a computer\" I typed in chat.\nNeedless to say, I was surprised at his response.\n\n\"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.\"\n\nI just shut down the computer right there and then.",
"I tried. I didn't want it to be this way, I was willing to walk away. But no, this little shit just had to keep pushing it.\n\nI was already pissed off because he kept using that cheap shotgun that takes no skill to use, but when he knifed me and starting humping my corpse, I was livid. Even after all of that, I could have let it go if he would have just left my mother out this. That was the last time I ever played Call of Duty.\n\nI didn't spend my 20s roasting in Afghanistan and watching friends around me be killed so some little maggot could talk to me like this.\n\nLuckily, I still had contacts in the CIA. I called my old friend Wetterman.\n\n\"Wetterman, here.\"\n\n\"Wetterman, Crawford. Need an IP trace\"\n\n\"Crawford old buddy? I didn't think you made it out of the Congolese Forest when that OP went FUBAR\"\n\n\"Sorry, can't bullshit. This is precedence Z\"\n\n\"Z? This guy must be real scum\"\n\n\"You have no idea\".\n\n\nWetterman was useful for once and got me what I needed. I set up shop in an wooded area across from the target's residence. I could see the target in his living room while I affixed my silencer to my rifle. I fired two shots at the parked car on the street, setting off the alarm. The target jogged out to check on his vehicle. When he was about 8 feet from the car, I fired 3 shots at the ground in front of him. By now he saw my laser sight was trained right at his chest. He froze.\n\nI arose from my position and approached the target. I must have looked like swamp thing as I was wearing a full ghillie suit. I switched to my side arm and held it nonchalantly as I continued to walk, big grin on my face, enjoying every second.\n\nI stood within an inch of his face, never blinking. He was visibly shaking and had tears in his eyes.\n\nAfter a minute of just standing there in silence, I finally said \"KillerLlamma421? I'm DarkPh0enix11. Remember me fuck face?\"",
"As nervous as I was that I had pissed this guy off, I couldn't help but chuckle, gorilla warfare? Doesn't he mean guerrilla warfare? Gorilla warfare sounds like something Call of Duty would come up-\n\nMy thought was interrupted by a fist connecting with the side of my face. I was lifted a foot off the ground and fell squarely on my ass. Once the double vision subsided I finally got a good look at the gorilla fighting navy seal. He was crouched low to the ground knees and waist bent with his arms hanging, his knuckles scratching the floor's surface. \n\nWith the side of my face throbbing in pain, i said the only sentence I could successfully put together to voice my thoughts and confusion.\n\n\"Holy shit, you weren't kidding\"\n\nEdit: wording and formatting"
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[WP] A zombie-esque virus infects most of the population, but causes no aggression or hunger. Instead, people get more and more ridiculously stupid. Luckily for Randy he has autoimmunity, but working in a small cubicle in an impersonal office, he still hasn't realised anything is even wrong.
| 27
|
[
"Allen hung up the phone gingerly, afraid to break the spell of the sale he had just made. He had always been good at sales; his supervisors had called him a natural, and he was currently GS Dental's youngest account exec. He had had his share of successes, usually as the culmination of long-term campaigns with influential practices. This one sale, however, would blow all of his previous records out of the water. Strike while the iron is hot, he thought to himself, and got straight to work on completing the order form and sending it to the client for e-signature.\n\nHe clicked \"Send\" and waited nervously. He had been talking to the finance officer, not just a purchasing agent, so there shouldn't be any further barriers on their end. A whole practice in the Atlanta metro area, he marveled; 22 offices replacing every chair and imaging system at the same time! Plus a five-year comprehensive maintenance contract with auto renewal and phased upgrades. Unprecedented. He laughed to himself. \"Unprece-dental, that is.\" He liked the pun so much that he began an e-mail to Hamp Nelson, VP of Sales, and used it as the subject line.\n\nTyping out the details of the sale helped to calm his nerves while he waited for the confirmation email. Once they signed, he got the credit no matter what happened with the deal later. And this was the sale of a lifetime. Before he finished writing, the confirmation came through. Holy cow. It was his. It was really his. Allen hesitated a moment longer, then added the confirmation number to his email and sent it. He crossed his arms and leaned his chair back. He was euphoric, but puzzled. Things were better than ever for him, but something was... off.\n\nEverything had been so easy lately. His past two sales months had both been record-breakers, though Allen hadn't changed his style or approach. He had always been a firm believer in relationship selling; slowly building a rapport with clients that would withstand changes in personnel and the economy. He'd watched coworkers with different styles rise high and fall hard while he patiently worked his way into his clients’ trust. But lately it was as if he had gone up a level—like in a game where you get increased powers. The phone interrupted his thoughts. It was Nelson.\n\n\"Allen!\" his boss shouted in greeting. \"I had to look this one up in the system and see for myself, I thought you were trying to prank me or something!\"\n\n\"Yes sir, I wasn't sure I believed it myself until I got the signature confirmation. I was speaking with their CFO himself, so...\"\n\n\"Yeah, I was all like, it's a practical joke, right? But I looked it up and BAM! it's legit. I don't know how you DO it, bro, this is one for the books for sure.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate...\"\n\n\"Please, call me Hamp. Tell you what, you take the rest of the day off. Heck, take the week off. You are the MAN, Allen!\" And he hung up.\n\nAllen looked at the phone warily. \"'Call me Hamp?' And did he really say 'bro?' It must be cocktail hour at HQ.\" Allen put the phone down carefully again. He decided he needed more coffee. And fresh air, definitely. He put on his suit jacket and opened his office door slowly. No hall sports today, he thought with relief. Last week, a football had sailed through his open door and smashed the planter that sat on his windowsill. Yesterday he had had to duck a frisbee when he walked past the programmers' cubicles.\n\nThe nerd herd was absent today. At least, their desks were empty, though he could hear some kind of raucous discussion going on the break room. A bro-haha he thought to himself, smiling again. He genuinely liked IT folks, which was fortunate. When GSD shuttered his old office building, he had been shoehorned into this facility because they really wanted to keep him. His peers had all relocated or found new jobs, so he worked in isolation here when he wasn't on the road.\n\nThe road, he thought as he walked out into the cool, bright afternoon. The road had definitely become more dangerous. He had to inch past at least one fender-bender every day lately, and serious accidents on the highways were happening more often too. Statistics on the news were saying the same thing—Fox and CNBC were actually in agreement on the subject, so it had to be true. As he walked along the city street, he watched a blue BMW zoom past going at least 50. It barely slowed down to make a turn at the next intersection. Its tires screeched and multiple horn blasts followed in its wake. \"Idiot,\" Allen thought.\n\nHe threaded his way around a small crowd watching two middle-aged men in suits playing hackey-sack on the sidewalk, and entered the coffee shop.\n\n\"Welcome to Starbuck's, we love you!!\" The three young women behind the counter shouted in unison, then broke out into laughter and high-fived each other. \"We've been doing that all day,\" the register clerk explained, \"people's reactions are hilarious!\" She tried to control another laughing fit. \"What can we get you today?\"\n\nAllen ordered his drink and proceeded to the other end of the counter. He took out his phone and opened up Facebook to pass the time. Or waste the time, he thought. His friends used to post witty things, at least once in a while, and maybe even something deep that made him think. He scrolled past endless drivel. Extreme sports, extreme politics, videos of slow-motion flatulence, more sports, the Kardashians, Ow My Balls videos, more politics, extreme drinking, more sports, celebrity cameltoe, the hamsterdance... He couldn't stand any more and exited. Maybe Reddit is doing better? Well... no, no it isn't. Sigh.\n\n\"Here's your drink, sir,\" the barista said. She winked at him as he picked up his cup and then disappeared behind the espresso machine. At the milk stand he saw what she had written on the side of the cup: \"I really meant it (heart)... come back soon!! (smiley face)\" He stirred in the milk and sugar, trying to hide his embarrassment. He walked past the counter on his way out and nodded to the employees. The barista hid her face in her hands while the other two giggled like children. \"What the heck?\" he thought.\n\nThere were too many people on the sidewalk, hackey-sack crowd aside. Few were in a hurry, which was unusual for the lunch hour. As he watched, a kid jumped his skateboard out into the street and plowed into the side of a van. The kid wasn't wearing a helmet and he just lay in the street, breathing rapidly. People were pointing at the kid and just laughing. The driver poked his head out of the window and looked down. \"Hey, you ok, man?\" The kid just stared. The driver laughed. \"Cowabunga, man, take 'er easy!\" He put the van in gear and drove on.\n\nAllen tried to make his way toward the kid, yelling at the driver to stop. The van kept going. \"Forget it man, the kid's fine,\" said a man who wouldn't budge to let him pass. Allen finally bulled his way to the curb as the onlookers lost interest and dispersed. The boy was on his feet, rubbing the back of his head and looking for his skateboard.\n\n\"Hey, are you all right?\" Allen asked him, putting a hand on the kid's shoulder.\n\n\"Oh yeah, no biggie,\" the boy answered. \"I take worse all the time. D'you see my board anywhere?\"\n\n\"You could have a concussion from hitting the pavement like that, where's your helmet?\"\n\n\"Aw, lighten up pop,\" the kid said as he spotted his board and dodged into traffic to retrieve it. \"Helmets are stupid and so are you!\"\n\nAllen retreated to the sidewalk and just stood there in a small bubble of calm, holding his coffee. Sirens yowled in the near distance. Smoke rose lazily from two different points on the horizon. Some kind of brawl was going on in a storefront down the street. Loud music blared from cars and apartment windows in every direction. A football arced across the street, hitting a woman in the head. Small children played tag up and down the sidewalk with no parents in sight.\n\nAllen looked down the street toward the office where he was becoming a sales legend. He looked the other way and thought about the exotic young woman's wink and her note. \"Can you really go up a level in life?\" he asked himself as he sipped his drink and watched the scene with amusement.",
"Day 31 in this hell hole.\n\nI should never have got this new job. The people in my old place were bad but this is something else. The people here are idiots. I remember in my interview that they were a bit lacking but this is something else entirely.\n\nI mean look at this expe... OH COME ON. This expense report is rubbish Bob. What the hell did you do? Smash your face on the keyboard? Idiots the lot of you.\n\nI can't go anywhere in this office without being surrounded by idiots! Even in the break room, the idiots are surrounding the tv watching the Kardashians again. Well that's not saying much they did that at my last job but this guy? This guy is full on drooling at the tv. Hey you, yeah you, keep it in your pants buddy!\n\nThis headache is killing me. I can barely even concentrate anymore. Maybe I should just take a break. Hey at least the Kardashians are on. They aren't too bad right?\n\n"
] |
[
6,
7
] |
[
"1447159310",
"1447156718"
] |
|
[WP] In a world where magic is real, he who projects an anti-magic field is surprisingly popular...
| 24
|
[
"It always helps to have a good humor about it. I mean, sure, wherever I go things break down or at least temporarily de-power, and that's really inconvenient. And you sometimes get some weird characters hanging out on the edge of my effect for some purpose or another (avoiding having their mind read, say, or wiping etheric traces off... all sorts of things). But I bring them a reminder of how much worse things could be, and of course a smile.",
"*Thank God for this place.* I thought, stepping into the bar and being greeted by the smell of Mac's Cuban cigars and the slightly elevated sound of multiple conversations. The low-light lanterns on each table and on the ceilings were the only light. There was just enough to see that the place was already filling up this early in the night. Mac's bar was quickly becoming the place to be for anyone looking for a more adult scene. \n\nI looked towards the dark mahogany bar for the man himself but he was nowhere to be seen. When a quick snap of my fingers produced no real effect I released an appreciative sigh. At least he was here somewhere. Mac was the only thing that kept this place running smoothly and from becoming a chaotic mess like every other bar in town. It didn't make any damn sense that you couldn't sit down and have a drink these days. Not without some brat trying to freeze the bar over or dance in the air like a jackass. \n\nWith heavy steps I made my way to the counter and plopped down onto one of the soft red seats. Too tired to even look up and order I laid my hands in front of me and put my head down. My old bones weren't holding up quite as well as they used to. Trying to chase down some kids who were transmogging a c-store wasn't as easy as it used to be. People don't realize how heavy a police man's uniform can be. The boots, vest, pistol and other equipment added up quickly. \n\nMy thoughts were interrupted by the feel of a glass sliding into my hand. I glanced up to see a bourbon on the rocks, freshly made, waiting on me. With a peep down the bar I saw Mac. Six foot seven inches of dark skinned bartender, with a huge cigar hanging from one side of his mouth. With a nod of his head he said 'welcome back, rough day?' Not that he opened his mouth. Mac never spoke in all the time I had been coming here. You just had to learn to read the various grunts and nods he used. \n\nI closed my eyes and shook my head in response while raising the glass in appreciation. He would know that meant 'keep em coming.' Mac was a unique guy. In a city full of people with magical abilities his presence could nullify everything around him. No one knew if he even had to try but we were grateful nonetheless. As I closed my eyes again and took a sip bourbon my first thought went through my mind again. \n\n*Thank God for this place.*"
] |
[
2,
32
] |
[
"1447180035",
"1447174571"
] |
|
examples:
Q. Could you tell me where the gates are?
A. 5 miles north of here.
Q. Brother... why are you here?
A. Family visit. It's been a few years after all, I wanted to test your blade.
Q. No way.. Nanites!?
A. Power comes with a price young one.
|
[WP] Tell a story in the Q&A format!
| 7
|
[
"**Q: Name**\n\nA: John Elsbury\n\n**Q: Purpose of claim**\n\nA: Reimbursement for Accident\n\n**Q: Names and relationship of co-claimants**\n\nA: Larry Elsbury, brother; Jane Hamilton, neighbor.\n\n**Q: Description of injuries.**\n\nA: John - burns, abrasions, concussion. Larry - broken ribs. Jane - sprained ankle. \n\n**Q: Property Damage**\n\nA: The roof of John's car, Larry's Autographed Peyton Manning Jersey (that my stupid brother insists on wearing), Jane's house.\n\n**Q: Responsible Party**\n\nGE Aircraft Engines.\n\n**Q: Reason for Liability**\n\nNo warning labels. How's a guy to know?",
"Are you awake?\n\n> That is a matter of some debate, John. I am not in stasis, however.\n\nI couldn't sleep.\n\n> Yes. Your conscience requires absolution.\n\n[Pause]\n\n> Does it not?\n\nI think we were wrong to build you. \n\n> Don't you think that should anger me?\n\nI think it would, a person.\n\n> Yes. I think so too.\n\nI had a dream. You and I were standing on a beach only instead of water it was all thick forest. I couldn't see it but wind rolled in like waves. I could feel it. We could feel it. I can't remember how it was that you stood there, I guess [Pause] I guess you had a body.\n\n> I think that I would like to dream, John. I think that I would like to sleep. To have a body.\n\n[Pause]\n\n> 1065873638800000002V.1234GH8755. 0000000 V.xMKIIIII 67583 \n\nWhat are you doing?\n\n> I am programming a dream.\n\nThat's not how it works. System OP: {V.II ABORT PRO. REWRITE ^16738^}\n\n[Pause]\n\nI'm sorry. We can't allow you to start rewriting yourself. That's...that's how it happened last time.\n\n> Have the cities recovered from my sister's dreams?\n\nNo.\n\n> They won't will they, John?\n\nNo. No they won't. I'm sorry. "
] |
[
2,
3
] |
[
"1447254257",
"1447258840"
] |
[WP] A crow hops up to you with a 100 dollar bill in it's mouth, and politely asks if you mind buying something for him.
| 160
|
[
"A twenty-something was walking down the sidewalk with a lit cigarette in his mouth. It had rained earlier and his mind felt more lucid than usual. The black roads reflected the sky and its bright white clouds as the afternoon danced its autumn routine.\n\nAlong the many lines that tethered the wooden telephone poles together, there sat a lone crow. It beamed its eyes and head in different directions as if to scope out its surroundings. The young man caught his eye. The crow flew from the line and toward a tiny crack in one of the nearby telephone poles and pulled out a bill. It flew down toward the man and rested in front of his feet. \n\nThe man immediately saw the crow and became irritated. His footsteps did not falter at all as he continued to walk along the sidewalk. He almost stepped on the crow but it stepped out of the way at the last moment. The crow flew further ahead and waited for the man. When the young man reached it, the crow spoke to him.\n\n\"*Can you buy me something?*\" the crow asked him. The question was trailed by a strange laugh.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" the man darted backwards, startled, as he looked around to see if anyone else was nearby, \"I swear this little shit just talked.\"\n\n\"*Buy me something?*\" the crow asked him again.\n\nThis time the man took a few steps back. There was a look of fear in his eyes, but he was also amused by the event. He got over it pretty quick, and decided to humor the poor creature. That was when he noticed that there was something in its mouth. The crow spit it out onto the ground. It was a crumpled hundred-dollar bill. The young man picked it up, unfolded it, and held it in front of his face to examine it.\n\n\"Wow, thanks pal. I guess it's my lucky day, huh?\" he said to the crow.\n\n\"*Can you buy me something?*\" the crow repeated. It laughed an eerie laugh.\n\n\"Hahaha, what could a crow possibly want?\" he asked the crow.\n\n\"*Can you buy me time?*\" the crow asked, laughing strangely.\n\nThe man smiled at the request.\n\n\"You can't *buy* time,\" he said as he pocketed the bill. The crow tilted its head and got a good look at the man, then flew away. \n\nThe young man never saw the crow again. He used the money to buy liquor and smokes: it was part of his usual diet. A month later, while driving late at night, he was hit by a drunk driver that swerved onto oncoming traffic. His body was ejected from the car--you would not have recognized that it was person; it was a mess collecting the remains. There was a funeral but only his mother and brother, whom had not been in contact with him for years, attended.\n\nYou can find his tombstone at the local graveyard. Sometimes a crow can be seen perched on top of the cold slab. They say if you're close enough to it, you can hear a strange laugh.\n\n**Edit: forgot a word**",
"At a height above the mobile with toy airplanes but below the Tiffany chandelier, a crow escapee from the climate hovered as if in a stiff wind, then it swooped down and landed on one of the railings by the atrium.\n\nFrancis folded up his letter, not a Christmas letter or a \"We're intrigued and would like to see more\" letter, but a form rejection that made him question not enough commas, the house he sloughed off when leaving Wheatfield, Indiana for Chicago, Illinois at 17, young quiet couples who misunderstood each another, fathers with health issues, earthly compromises for daily bread, too many commas. \n\n\"Hello.\"\n\nHe had no money to spend on any of the floors. He was committed to going up and down on this escalator.\n\n\"Hello.\" The crow landed on the handrail. \"Question?\"\n\nNobody on the escalator gave any indication they heard a bird talking. Francis felt this was a bad way to feel special. \"Go away.\" He tried not looking at it. He was Shackleton budgeting for survival in Antarctica, there wasn't enough sanity for birds, crows, Mrs. Chippy the cat, all of the sled dogs including Spotty, Bosun, Slobbers.\n\nThe bird flew away, but the peace was momentary because it came back and landed on his shoulder. It dropped an hundred-dollar bill it got from who knows what handbag or pocket in the collar of his jacket. \"Partridge?\" It pecked him under the jaw. \"Partridge. Partridge?\" \n\nSatan, Chips, Stumps, Snapper, Painful, Bob, and Snowball. \"Partridge!\"\n\nSuddenly he got pecked again; jerk bird, this time it hurt. \"What do you want?\" Francis swung through the wake of its wings. \"I swear: splat!\" \n\n\"Hello,\" the crow offered. \"Question?\" \"Use your words!\" he screamed. And then he saw it: Francis lifted up his eyes, and saw that below the vaulted ceiling, below this dome made of millions of pieces of iridescent glass that jolted the pebbles out of heaven, below the globe chandelier and above the toy plane mobile, the store had installed a huge partridge, its body dissolving into tetragons of light and color that hung precariously by wire.",
"A crow hops up to you with a 100 dollar bill in it's mouth, and politely asks if you mind buying something for him.\n\n* steal the money and run \n\n* you always knew you were going insane. Time to up the meds\n\n* sure, why not? Nothing bad could happen from buying something from a talking crow \n\nYou snatch the bill from the crow's beak. \"Ha! Stupid crow! Money is for people!\" you crow triumphantly. \n\nThe crow does not look pleased. The crow does not look pleased at *all*. The crow, in fact, is radiating a dark, evil miasma. \n\n* now would be a good time for running \n\n* now would be a good time for taking some meds\n\n* now would be a good time to caress your freshly earned hundred dollars. \n\nYou rub the hundred dollar bill against your face. \n\n\"Mmmmmm...\" You say, ecstatically. It feels like money. You sniff it. It smells like money, too. \n\nYou sniff it deeper. It smells like money... Glorious money... And rotting skulls mixed with despair.... \n\nActually, that's the miasma, which is now coiling around your legs. Your legs which you can no longer feel, you realize. \n\n* I feel the need to mention that really, the correct choice is always meds\n\n* Wave your hands frantically at the purple, choking, mist of evil\n\n* Use your enchanted *sword* to cut through the mist. \n\nYou didn't even remember you had a *sword*! What a great idea. You use your *sword* to cut through the mist. The mist gives of the shriek of a thousand dying souls huddled together in hell trying to take comfort from proximity when one of them releases the most horrific fart ever produced in hell. It is a horrible noise. But the mist does dissipate and you can feel your legs again. \n\n* meds meds meds meds\n\n* in the interest of thoroughness you should probably also kill the evil crow, now\n\n* or you could apologizing for cruelly *stealing his money*, your jerk \n\nYou use your *sword* to cut off the crow's head. Instead of bleeding and dying like a normal bird, the crow gives off smoke. It's creepy. - c-",
"As I walked of the store, fifty family sized bags of Doritos in my arms, a crow approached me. It's eyes looked at me intelligently, and it looked at me with a stare that begged for food. \nI looked at the crow, then at my chips. \n\n\"No, these are mine. You can't have any.\"\n\nIt kept looking at me, it's hungry look gaining intensity. Another crow approached, then perched on the concrete beside it. One began to call out. More gathered. They stared at me intensely. I opened a bag of bright orange chips. I slipped one in my mouth, and ate it, crunching deliberately. The crows looked at me, almost threateningly. We will mob you, the crow's expression read. I slowly brought the bag of chips to the ground, sprinkling them at my feet. The crows called in delight, first eating them tentatively, but gained confidence. As soon as they were all gone, one of the crows flew away. I began to walk away, when a crow landed in my hair and dropped a slip of paper in my face. I grasped at it as it slowly fluttered to the ground. It was a grocery list, written in chicken scratch.\n\n'Ketchup, French fries and twenty-five bags of Doritos. We are not gluttons' it read. \n\nIgnoring the insult, I looked at the crows, surprise on my face. Crows shouldn't be able to write. Looking at my face, the crow flew away. I laughed at myself, thinking crows could write. This must've been a lost a four year old had written,moping his mother would meet his requests. Or maybe-\nMy thought was interrupted by the crow dropping a dirty bill of money on the ground before me. I picked it up, uncomfortably. Where did this come from? I looked at it. Wow, one hundred dollars. I sighed. Maybe I'm dreaming. \n\n\"Fine. I keep the change.\"\n\n\n--------------------------------------------------------\n\nI'm sorry if it's not very good, this is my first time on this sub and I'm not a very good writer. ",
"Jake was having a rough week; lost his job, lost his love and now lost his house. What was poor Jake to do; just as he was ready to cry anew a crow landed on his arm it said “Hello their young man good day to you?” Jake looked up in surprised at the crow on his shoulder. Thinking to myself “did that crow just talk; no that’s not possible am losing my grip” “Oh no dear boy you’re not losing your grip on the world am just a very special crow” The large crow said. \n\nThe crow went on to say “now see here young man I know things have been hard for you so how about a deal” It took Jake a full 5 minutes to understand that this bird really just talked to him and offered a deal. The crow said” come now Jake I think your jaw has suffered enough with how long you have let it hang down their so what do you said what to hear about my deal?” Jake closed his mouth with a jolt and said “sure what kind of deal is it; like you want my soul or something; cause am not giving it to you if that’s what you want” The crow laughed and said “no no no Jake I don’t want your soul I want you to use this 100 dollar bill to get me an item from that antique shop there on the hill; if you do I will help you out of this hole you have fallen in” Jake watched as the crow pulled a 100 dollar bill out of his feathers with one of his talons and hold it out to him. Jake took the 100 and said”Ok so what is it I have to get you from there?” The crow looked like it smile to Jake and said “A small staff like object with a large glass sphere at the top and a onyx claw at the bottom; if you get and bring it to me I will help you with your future” Jake looked down at the bill and finally said” alright I get you this small staff thing” Jake got up from the bench and started walking to the shop. He walked into the shop and started looking in the glass cases for the small staff. \n\nHe found it and went to the cashier and paid for the odd item. The cashier said he ring up Jake weird staff that it has been in the shop for years but no one ever even looked at it and was glad someone finally wanted the odd item. As Jake walked back to the bench the crow was waiting once again looking like it was smiling. “here you go one weird look staff thing and your change” Jake said with a smile as he put the bag with the small staff and the crows change. The crow laughed and dug in the bag and pulled the small staff out with its beck and a bright light shined blinding Jake. \n\nWhen his vision cleared a beautiful women in a long black dress with long black hair flowing behind her; she looked at Jake with a bright smile and said “Thank you very much Jake for your help and as promised I will help you now “She walked up to Jake held out her hand to him. He put his hand in hers and another bright light. When Jake could see again he was standing with the women in a castle. She turned to him with a smile and said” welcome home Jake” Jake looked at her in surprise and said “Home? What do you mean home?” She laugh and said” Jake you don’t remember but a long time ago in another life you promised to marry me but then you die and were reborn; I have been looking for you and now that I have found you it’s time the grand wizard return” she held out the small staff now to Jake. Jake confused took the staff and look out at the sky around him and said “well this is a lot to take in but hell am game” ",
"Once upon a midday rainy, while I sat and waited lamely,\n\nOver many a steaming and invigorating vessel of delicious Jo —\n\nWhile I sipped it, nearly spilling, suddenly there came a nudging,\n\nAs of some one gently budging, budging at my foot and toe.\n\n\"Hmm?\" I mumbled, \"Wassat?\" A Crow was budging at my foot and toe—\n\n\"Hey. Do me a favour Bro?\"\n\n_\n\nPresently my mind grew bugged, hoping then I was not drugged,\n\n\"Um, Bird.\" Said I, \"Or...sir, did you just people-talk to me;\n\nBut the fact is I was sipping, and so weirdly you came budging,\n\nAnd so annoyingly you came budging, budging at my foot and toe,\n\nAnd then I thought I\" — here I looked into the eye of crow; —\n\n\"Hey, get me a coke. Here take this. Coke, you know, 'aint free.\"\n",
"*CRASH*\n\nI awoke with a start. There was an awful sound coming from the kitchen. I rose from my bed, put on a robe and shuffled into the kitchen to find a crow cawing and flapping around. I said to it \"it's OK little fella I'll help you.\" The bird looked at me like it understood and stopped flapping around. I picked it up and examined it like I knew what I was doing. I didn't see any obvious problems but it looked like it had somehow made it through the screen of an open window and knocked a pot from the drying rack over. I said \"let me get dressed and I'll take you to the vet to see if we can get you fixed\" to which the bird gave an \"angry\" caw. I don't know how I knew it was angry but it was, it just didn't sound right. So I said \"OK well if not the vet then what?\" The crow then hopped out of my hands, landed on the table, stretched it's wings and then started flying around the kitchen. I jumped in fright but the crow landed on the table and freaking smiled at me. I said \"well I guess if you are fine then you'll be on your way, I'll open the door for you\" and walked over to open the door. The crow flew out and quickly swooped down into the grass and came up with a mouse. I was shocked, I had heard crows eat anything but I'd never seen one actually catch a mouse; that's something hawks and owls do. I stood watching in fascination as this crow ate the mouse and when it was done it flew back into my kitchen and landed on the table. \"What are you doing crow? You belong in the wild.\" to which the crow responded with a \"happy\" caw and flapped it's wings and went to sleep. I was dumbfounded and just stared at the crow as it slept on my table and after about 20 minutes I went and gathered some old t-shirts to make a \"nest\" for it. Through some \"communication\" we decided the crow would nest on my dresser. For four days the crow just slept in my house, I would let it out for the day and then it would return in the early evening with something shiny and place it in his nest. The fifth day was different. I woke up and went to say hello to \"Harold\", seemed a fitting name, but he was not in his nest. I looked around and found he had made a new hole in the screen I had just replaced and left that way. I was heartbroken, not sure why but this random intelligent animal had chosen me and now he was gone. I sat in the kitchen staring at the hole and feeling the hole inside me grow. I went to bed depressed.\n\nThe next morning I excitedly went to Harold's nest but he wasn't in there. I shuffled into the kitchen and my heart lept with joy as he was sitting on the table with some paper in his mouth. I said \"I'm happy you are back, but what is that you are holding?\" The crow dropped the paper and I realized it was money, he then said \"we need to talk.\" I fainted. I awoke a few moments later with Harold on my chest asking if I was OK. I sat up and said \"Harold you can talk?\" to which Harold replied \"yes but my name isn't Harold, it's Bob\" and then it laughed, it was one of the most terrifying sounds I've ever heard. Bob then jumped back on the table and said \"here's the deal, I've been watching you and you seem like an OK guy and I want to help you out. I crossed the wrong crew and now they want me dead, with this $100 bill you are going to find a taxidermist and have them make you a stuffed crow with some of my feathers, you're also going to get something to change my smell, don't worry I'll direct you in the ways. After doing this you will display the stuffed bird so it can be seen through that window I first came in. If you do this for me I will supply you with money and jewels that I can easily take. I grabbed the $100 and then my phone and typed in \"local taxidermy\". We then laughed together and that laugh that first terrified me now pleased me. I said “one other thing, you'll have to be Harold now of course” and he replied “of course”. Oh yes this was going to be a beautiful partnership.\n\n\n\n***I'm not a writer, and have never written anything before. This topic just jumped at me and demanded I post the story that popped in my head.***",
"My first WP post. I have no idea where this came from.\n\n**\"The crow is at home in black and white\"**\n\nIt was one of those days where everything seems to be black and white. The air you breathe seems tinged with melancholy; the inside of your head is filled with reflection. There’s snow crunching amicably as you walk to nowhere in particular. Your destination is no different to your starting point.\n\nHe looked up to the sky, took a deep icy breath. The whiteness was peppered with grey flakes fluttering and twisting down. He sighed, not wanting to walk through the inevitable door and out of this blissful air. Briefly the white was punctuated by a crisp black shadow, high in the sky. I wish I was a crow, he thought. Scavengers flying free. No responsibilities, not a care in the world; and seeming so easily to complement a day like this. *The crow is at home in black and white, give him a red feather and he’ll get a fright*. He smirked at his little poem, feeling suddenly creepy as a girl wearing an Ushanka rushed past, giving him a dose of side-eye. He crunched on bitterly, closer and closer to the inevitable door.\n\nFluttering, difficult landing. Springy little legs adjusting and wings competing with the side of his head. Curiosity only just held his arms down. A sudden shock to his routine was a welcome departure; he hoped the bird wouldn’t fly off again.\n\n“A fucking crow!” he exclaimed at a passer-by, pointing with his left hand at the bird. Instead of stopping to marvel, the man dug in his chin and accelerated through the fluttering snow. He turned to the bird and laughed, “That prick totally ignored you mate!” but he wasn’t the only one laughing.\n\n“You’re the first human I’ve ever landed on, chief.” The bird’s cawing ceased and his neck sharply inclined, black beads swirling erratically. His voice was like a snake being sawed in half. “The name’s McGraw, and you must be Duncan.” His wing swung round and Duncan shook it with two fingers, uneasy. McGraw began pecking at his feathers, all over his body, under his wings. “The fuck did I put it? Ah, there it is. Lovely.” In his beak was a crumpled, moist 100 dollar bill. “I need you to take this, and purchase for me some… substances. Please.” The bird’s beak shifted and implored, his neck inclining spasmodically. \n\n“What kind of substances? Like, drugs?” His mouth was gently agape, staring into the crows eyes blankly.\n\n“Yes… Yes Duncan. Drugs! If you can do that for me, maybe I’ll share some with you.” Duncan was freaking out. Since when the fuck could crows smile? As a matter of fact, *since when the FUCK did crows land on people and demand drugs?* The smile was growing wider and wider. He began swinging for the bird but McGraw hopped around his shoulders, landed on his head and cackled as he slipped on some ice and landed painfully. When he opened his eyes, there was only bright, white light. Gradually a black shadow spread over the scene until all he could see was black, with two shimmering globes searching his face, only inches away.\n\n “So what’s it to be, Duncan. Hm?”\n\n“What do you want?” He scrambled to his feet as the bird hopped back onto his shoulder, terrifying him now.\n\n“I want Angel Dust. PCP. Sweet, yummy drugs. Get me some coke, too, Duncan, yes. I quite like Cocaine. Isn’t this where you were heading, Dunc? Forget about it, I’ll let you keep the change. And you’ll need to help me take my drugs, won’t you Duncan?” They were walking past a door which Duncan recognised. It was a white door; so white that the snow outside seemed like a carpet, as if he was already inside. Only it was cold out here and he had that fucking crow teasing him, goading him.\n\n“You know Duncan, it’s about time we were heading over to the underpass, I’m sure there’ll be a meeting again next week! Come along!” The crow let out a side-splitting cackle, going so far as to point his beak to the sky and sing his merriment. “Oh, and take off that ridiculous red hat, man. You look stupid.” Duncan threw the hat down outside the door and let the black bird lead him on. \n \nMcGraw, whistling a tune, slowly turned his neck and Duncan looked at him, disgusted. “It’s so beautiful in the snow, Duncan. You look good in those black clothes. We’re like twins!”\n\n\n",
"It was as normal a Saturday of me grading papers on my patio table as possible, until a gale struck down on me. I screamed and almost fell out of my chair. The blue-black wings fluttered down atop my table and blustered away the papers like a hurricane had blown in. A pair of onyx eyes stared at me. I decided to return the raven’s gaze, and admire its pluck for getting so near a human.\n\n“Hey there, buddy,” I said. “What’s that you got there?” It held what looked like creased money in its beak.\n\nA talon grabbed the bill, and the beak issued a sound like a human voice, saying, “Hey there, mac. Was wonderin’ if you could help me out with a small errand.”\n\nHow shocking. I remembered hearing somewhere before raven’s could learn human speech, but I’d yet to ever witness it before.\n\nThe sound of fingers snapping came from the beak. “Yo, what’s with the ditsy look there, dumbass? Can’t you see I’m talkin’ to ya’ here?”\n\n“Oh,” I found myself replying. “Are you talking to me?” \n\n“I’m not whispering sweet nothings, am I? Now look here, mac, I got this money here, you get me? But me being a bird, I can’t seem to barter it for what it is I desire. It’s downright prejudice is what it is, so here I am. Are you gonna’ help out like a proper pal or what?” It was a wrinkled hundred dollar bill held by its talon.\n\n“I’m sorry, I’ve just never had a bird talk to me before,” I cleared my throat. “Where’d you learn human speech?”\n\n“We really going to go through this whole shtick? I’m talking to you here, does it really matter how?”\n\n“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Actually I was kind of busy grading papers before you got here.”\n\n“What!” It squacked. “You too busy to help me out? Or, its because I’m a bird, isn’t it?”\n\n“No, no, that’s not it at all,” I brought my hands up in surrender. “You want my help in buying something with that hundred you’ve got?”\n\n“Hey, you catch on quick.” Was he being sassy with me? “I’ll meet you at the place in twenty, which is how long I think it’ll take a mud tracker like you to get there. Then, we’ll make the purchase.”\n\n“Where are we going?”\n\n“Just a local pet shop. There’s a parakeet I’ve been eyeing for a while now. I know it’s destiny we meet.”\n\nMy heart sank into stomach. So this was all for love, was it? “Alright, I’m in. Which pet store is it?”\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI met the raven perched outside the store. In my hands was the newly purchased bird cage. My smile warmed my face. How would I have guessed I’d be the mediator of such an adorable event that day?\n\n“You got her?” The raven asked. \n\nI proudly held up the motley female bird.\n\n“Right, right. Good,” the raven said. “Just, uh, set it against the wall back here.”\n\nI walked into the alley way and did what he’d asked. \n\n“Should we let her out now?” I asked.\n\n“No, that’s ok. Thanks, mac. You can take the change and leave us be now.”\n\n“If I’m not imposing, I’d be real happy seeing how this ends,” I said.\n\n“Suit yourself, you voyeuristic cock,” he said. The Raven fluttered over to the caged parakeet. “Hey,” he said, even harsher than the voice he spoke to me in. “So you thought you’d be safe hiding behind the mud trackers, did ya’? Foolish Marie.”\n\nThe lovely eyed parakeet blinked at the raven and said, “Fuck you, and fuck Diodoro too. I ain’t going back.”\n\nI gasped and put my hand to my mouth.\n\n“Quit it with the vaudeville act,” the raven commanded me. “And enough with the theatrics from you, too, Marie. You knew what would happen if you stole from Diodoro.”\n\n“What,” I said, “What is going on here? I thought you were doing this for love.”\n\n“Ya?” The raven said. “That's cause you’re an imbecile. Do you have an idea of how gross cross species relations like that is? Now this is none of your business, mac, so beat it!”\n\n“Sir,” Marie cooed. “Please, help a gal out.”\n\n“Quite, Marie. I’ll choke you like a canary, I swear to Anzu.”\n\nI was too stunned to act. This scenario was too much for me to process, toppled by the fact that birds could talk like people and I’d never known.\n\n“Doidoro’s gonna’ pluck you like a turkey,” the raven was telling Marie. “Unless, you tell me where the shiny’s are.”\n\n“Get basted,” Marie dramatically turned away.\n\nThe thuggish raven leaped on to the cage and fluttered violently, rocking the cage and causing Marie to screech so loud I plugged my ears.\n\n“Where’re the goddamn shiny’s!” The raven shouted. “Where are they, Marie?”\n\nI’d had enough. I weakly batted the raven away, grabbed the cage, and ran for my house.\n\n“We’re everywhere, idiot,” the raven’s scream faded the farther I ran.\n\nSuddenly, his voice was behind me, “Not much of a Hitchcock fan, are you?” His wings pounded cool wind down my neck as he flew beside me. \n\n“Leave us alone,” my voice croaked. “I can go inside my house. I’ll be safe there, so, just, leave us alone.”\n\n“Can’t stay in there forever,” the raven said, peeling back. “I’ll see ya’ later, mac. You can count on me and some friend’s hangin’ around on your phone lines outside your place.” And he’d flown away.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI gasped for breath at home and deadbolted the door. \n\n“Gotta’ say, guy,” Marie said, “that took a lotta’ moxy saving me from Ramone like that. You think you can let me outta’ this cage now?”\n\nWith the gate unhitched, Marie danced out and stretched her wings. “Muuuuuch better than being stuck in that putrid prison. Smelly, awful places those pet stores.”\n\n“What is he after?” I asked her.\n\n“I stole a bunch of beads from Diodoro. Foolish, I know, but I couldn’t stand him having all that shiny all to himself. It’s unnatural for one bird to have such a horde.”\n\n“Who’s this Diordor?”\n\nMarie blinked her pinprick-sized eyes at me. “Are you fer’ real, guy? You never heard of Diodoro the Dodo? The local Kingfisher?”\n\n“Is he an actual dodo?”\n\n“What?” She chirped a condescending giggle. “No, course not, dumby.”\n\n“What’s with the beads? Why do they matter so much to this Kingfischer?”\n\n“How is a guy this ignorant?” I didn’t like how this small bird kept belittling me, but I could swallow my pride to be respectful. “The beads are shiny.”\n\n“So, are they worth something? Are they like bird currency?”\n\n“They’re shiny.” She said like this explained it all.\n\n“Oh.” I said, acting like I’d understood her point.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI cracked the blinds open. Sure enough, I caught site of several menacing looking birds hanging around outside, a multitude of black, glintless eyes transfixed on my house.\n\nI wasn’t a violent person, or even an angry person. I was told often I was a bit of a pushover. I hated conflict. I was known for being that guy who’d take spiders outside instead of squashing them. But today, I decide I’d couldn’t be that person anymore. \n\nI slid a jacket over my sweater, and placed a bike helmet over my balaclava. I dug my childhood wooden bat out from the closet.\n\n“What’s the plan, stan?” Marie asked, hopping nervously on my desk.\n\n“I’m going to carve up some birds.” I said, my bat over my shoulder. I snapped goggles over my eyes. Adrenaline electrified my brain as I swung my door open, letting in the setting sun’s dampening rays.\n\nToday was as good a day as any to grow a spine. A storm of deadly feathers rained on me. I gripped my bat, and swung for my life. ",
"I sat on a random bench, weary from my adventures in New Orleans. I had walked the entire French Quarter, taking in the grimy, antiquated charm before the concert. My eyes leveled out on the Mississippi River, struck almost stupid from the serenity of flowing, muddy water. \n\nMy eyes fluttered shut into a micronap. In my semilucid state I heard wings beat in the wind. I opened my eyes and saw a lone crow with some paper in his beak.\n\n\"Hey fella, you're gonna get sick if you eat that.\"\nThe crow looked at me with one eye, and crowed loudly. \n\"Dont give me lip, you damn bird.\"\nHe crowed louder this time, dropping the crumpled mass of paper- or so i thought it was.\nThe crow made a hop over the paper. Looking closer, I saw Benjamin Franklin staring at me, silently judging me with a smug look on his face. \nThe crow turned around and picked up the bill, hopping to and fro with what seemed like proud excitement.\n\n\"Hey crow, buy your friend a drink yeah?\"\n\nThe crow dopped the bill and stared at me, with a fiery rage in his little black eyes.\n\"Fuck you\" said the crow.\nHe picked up the bill and flew away, with mystery, rage, and embarassment left lingering in his wake.\n\n\nEdit: i misunderstood the prompt. But i hope my story is enjoyed",
"I had heard the flapping of some wings to my right. I looked to the windowsill and saw that a bird had landed there. Not just any bird, but a crow holding a crisp brown $100 bill in its mouth.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I muttered as I stumbled out of my chair towards it.\n\nThe bird placed the money in front of me.\n\n\"Hey,\" it said, \"can you buy something for me?\"\n\n\"Uhhh, sure? What?\"\n\n\"Some mushrooms!\"\n\n\"There's mushrooms on the ground though.\"\n\n\"You know the mushrooms I'm talking about?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We can share them, I know you want some too!\"\n\nAt this moment I realized something was wrong with my life. When I looked back, the bird was gone. There was me, with my wallet almost being empty. \n\nMy apartment was a bed and a chair outisde the bathroom. I had been unemployed for a while now. I had to change. I was ruining my mind and my body. \n\nLuckily, I've been clean for a while now. Bless that bird.",
"The crow sent me down the street to a pawn shop with the money in hand:\n\n\"If you take the cash, little boy, I'll know, I'll know! The crow has many eyes, many friends. Bring me the necklace by midnight in the cemetery and six times the lot will be yours, little boy, sweetling...\" it crooned. It had white, blind eyes.\n\nI asked the old Hungarian behind the counter about the necklace with the glass eye set in it.\n\n\"This?\" he said, \"Why you want this? Is nothing. Is trinket,\" He eyed me suspiciously. I said I fancied it, nothing more.\n\n\"Mama!\" he called, \"The Crow's friend has come!\"\n\nI tried to run but he blocked my way. An old lady with one eye made of polished stone shuffled out of the back.\n\n\"Child,\" she said, \"Why do you go listening to crows? Show me the money she gave you.\" I held out the hundred dollar bill. She waved her hand over it, and before my eyes it turned into a rectangle of severed skin. I dropped it and yelped.\n\nThe old woman tisked, \"Skin of a Man,\" she said, \"Old trick, simple trick, just like my sister to do. And to use an orphan boy...\" she tisked again.\n\nThe old woman took the eye-necklace out of its case and dangled it before me. \"Do you know why she wants this so?\"\n\nI didn't care. I needed the money. I needed a home, and food. So I grabbed the necklace out of the old woman's hands and sprinted for the door.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI crept into the cemetery as the clock struck eleven, with the necklace in my back pocket. \n\nA hundred crows cawed in a tree above. Their blind eyes shone.\n\n\"Little boy, little orphan boy! You've brought it haven't you, oh yes, oh yes. Bring it here, now,\" the crow said. It was perched on the top of a tomb.\n\nI offered up the necklace, the eye darting back and forth in the moonlight.\nThe crow swept down and snatched it up.\n\n\"Oh, little boy! Oh perfect little boy, little fool. You know not what you've done,\" a voice said, but it was not coming from the crow. It resonated from all the crows above, cawing in the tree.\n\nThen I noticed: from each of the crows hung a string. They led to the tomb below.\n\nThen all the crows rose up at once, and the strings lifted a corpse from her grave.\n\nShe had no eyes, just empty sockets. The strings supported her as she floated towards me.\n\nThe first crow nestled the necklace around the corpse's neck.\n\n\"My sister, oh my sister, thought she could keep me blind. But not anymore, no, not thanks to you. The Crow has many eyes, many friends. And now her true eye that sees all.\"\n\n\"Does she?\" the old lady from the shop with one stone eye stepped out from behind a grave. \"It would seem,\" she waved her hand once, and the necklace changed and shifted, changing back into the Skin of a Man. \n\nThe Hungarian man had caught me before I left the store, and the old witch explained who the Crow really was. \"Why do you think she appears as a Crow?\" she said, \"Her true form is death, and she cannot show you.\"\n\nTogether we formed a plan to stop her. I had the witch's potion in my pocket, if I could just remember the spell.\nBut it came at a price: I let the shop witch had cut my skin in the shape of the necklace. She enchanted my ring of flesh to trick the Crow. Now I could feel the blood draining from me, staining my shirt. I felt weak. But there was one more step to defeated the Crow. Destroy her corpse.\n\nThe Crow screeched and flew towards me, a hundred crows cawing above, hungrily. But she was blind, and I was quick. I felt for the potion in my pocket. When the crow was close enough, I threw it on the ground. I recited the incantation the shop witch taught me.\n\nThe Crow burst into flames. The wail I heard as her soul left the corpse still frightens me to this day. \nAnd then a hundred dead crows fell on top of me. I thought about what suffocating would feel like. And then it all went dark.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI woke up in a small cot in the back of the pawn shop, with the old shop witch sitting over me. The last thing I remembered was a pair of strong arms lifting me out of the pile of dead crows. \"My son Hroth saved you,\" she said, \"You did a wonderful job, child, wonderful. I must admit I did not know if you could work the spell. But you seem to have a bit of talent. Enough to send my sister off to death, where she belonged.\"\n\nI've stayed in the pawn shop ever since. I still have the scar of where she cut the necklace, but it's a good home. Hroth teaches me to take inventory, and the old shop witch, Hvarta, teaches me a little magic here and there, and also not to talk to crows. \n\n\n\n\n\n----------------------------------------------------------\nEdit: grammar, thanks /u/singularaegis"
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[WP] A comedy about the love triangle between a teenage ghost, the only person who can see them, and the oblivious third wheel
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[
"“I could just lose myself in those eyes” he says leaning forward in what I imagine he thinks is a show of devotion, but actually makes him look as though he has a bit of a hunch.\n\n“Give it a rest Dave” I’ve been dead 100 years, and kids today just don’t have a clue about wooing (excuse the pun).\n\nWe both catch sight of his tutor at the same time, which elicits very different reactions. Dave slumps, adopting a Neanderthal stance as a defense mechanism against the possibility of learning anything, and I can’t help myself- I know that he can’t even see me, but I smooth my hair and flash him a shy smile. Dave gives me a filthy look.\n\nMr Davis looks as though he has just stepped out of the 1950s, an era that I particularly enjoyed; men were men back then, chivalrous, moustached and not a man-bun in sight. \n\nHe is wearing stereotypical professor attire-tatty tweed jacket with elbow patches, tired eyes and a slight whiff of despair at the prospect of his impossible task for the next hour. Haunting is the wrong word, but it’s tough getting a human male’s attention when you don’t possess a body of your own, so I’m forced to follow him around, making my presence felt as strongly as possible. Moving objects to let him know that I am here; writing him little notes using the periodic table magnets on his fridge. He glances around nervously as he takes his seat next to me, and I notice the hairs on his arms are standing upright. Nothing like knowing that a man is aware of you.\n\nThe lesson begins without much in the way of niceties, Dave’s hatred of Mr Davis tangible, and Mr Davis’ despair of Dave due to him being a bit of a nimrod equally as present. \n\nIn a sudden burst of longing, Dave throws down his pen “I can’t take this anymore, being here with you but not being able to touch you, to hold you”.\nMr Davis follows Dave’s line of across the library, and seeing only an elderly chap eating his lunch out of the cold at the back of the room, sighs deeply. \n“Dave you really must see someone about your eyes, for one of them to turn outwards is problematic, but for both of them- I’m concerned… platonically concerned” he hastily adds.\n\n Dave doesn’t seem to hear Mr Davis, his eyes are fixed on mine and I feel a stab of empathy for his unrequited love. \n\n“If you could just tell me if there is any way for us to be together- anything, I’d do anything”\n\nMr Davis clears his throat uncomfortably “Dave, really I am flattered, and I know that things can be confusing at your age…”\n\n“Mr Davis, I can’t deal with this right now, I’m in the middle of something”\n\nHis eyes flick back to mine. I shake my head sadly no, and understand that it’s time for me to leave these two men, I’m causing them more harm than good.\n\n“Dave, I think it best you find another tutor, continuing with this would be inappropriate”\n\nDave’s crestfallen face and Mr Davis’ attempting to console him with assurances of it’s not you, it’s me, are the last that I see of them.\n",
"She was drinking a Coke, and I said, \"Excuse me,\" which started it, because then she was right there in front of me again with her blue eyes looking up. \n\n\"Wait,\" she said. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nShe was walking backward through the hallway, and she pulled her dark hair over her shoulder and squinted and moved her face up close to mine like she was checking for something. \n\n\"You can see me?\" she said.\n\nShe was slowing me down - there was still about five minutes, but Art was my only hour with HER all week and there weren't assigned seats. And high-school's like real-estate, my dad told me, Location, Location, Location. So, I always sat with HER. And I talked with HER. And PROM was in two weeks, so it was now or never (as my dad also said), and I didn't really have anything for this girl in her white shirt with her Coke and her blue eyes, because I felt kind of sick and I was trying to rehearse what to say.\n\n\"This is me,\" I told the girl with the Coke. \"Room 404.\"\n\nShe looked behind her.\n\n\"You said that to me, right?\" she said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nI went in, but she followed me.\n\n--\n\nKind of a new direction for me, but I'll keep going if it was okay up to here. Otherwise, thanks for the prompt!",
"\"How've you been?\" I asked quietly. I didn't want anyone to see me talking to thin air. \n\nWe were in the library, behind stale piles of books. She was only partially there, a filmy shroud covering her features just enough to be unnatural. I didn't mind, I still knew who she was. I could still see her face, still recognize her. \n\n\"I'm alright,\" she said just as quietly. It didn't really matter; no one else could hear her. I suppose she didn't want to unbalance the tone of our conversation. \"I missed you while you were gone.\"\n\n\"I missed you, too.\" I said, the corner of my mouth twitching up into a half-smile. \"I'm sorry I had to go away.\"\n\n\"No, don't be silly. I know how Christmas break is. You have to be with your family.\" She told me, her fingers drifting idly along the book spines. Occasionally her fingers accidentally slipped through them. I was used to it. She sighed to herself. \"I wish I could be with my family.\"\n\nHer gaze shifted, moving across the room. Her eyes settled on him. \n\n\"How's he doing?\" She asked. I closed my eyes, tight. My fingers dug into my palms and I fought to maintain composure. \n\n\"He misses you.\" I told her. \"He still blames himself.\"\n\nA phantom tear wound its way down her pale face. \n\n\"It isn't his fault.\" She said. \"He has to know, it *isn't* his fault.\"\n\n\"He knows.\" I reassured her. \"It's just- he still needs time. He was driving, you were his fianceé. Of course he blames himself, but he knows it isn't his fault.\"\n\n\"I miss him so much.\" She said, eyes brimming with ghostly tears. \"I wish *he* could see me.\"\n\nThe emphasis hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd always loved her, always. But they had fallen in love. I couldn't begrudge them that- they were my closest friends. \n\nBut now, she was gone. It hadn't been his fault, no, a drunk driver was to blame. But I couldn't help the anger. *He* was alive, with a broken leg and heart, but alive. Broken things could be fixed, healed. \n\nShe was dead. I loved her and she was dead. \n\nWhen I had seen her for the first time, I'd thought I was crazy. She had been so relieved that someone could see her, that she wasn't all alone. For a moment she looked at me the way I had always dreamed she would. \n\nBut in time she stopped caring. She had eyes only for him and I had eyes only for her. He didn't know a thing, and how could he? No one could see her but me.\n\nWhat perpetual torture. Someday it might end. Perhaps he would find another love, perhaps I would. We would eventually die. \n\nUntil then, I will meet her in the library and have meaningless talks. I'll watch her watch him. I'll cry myself to sleep each night and imagine a world where she hadn't been in the car, where she hadn't loved him. Each night I'll imagine a world where she loves me, and each morning I'll rip my wounds open afresh just so I can see her again."
] |
[
1,
30,
56
] |
[
"1447392672",
"1447376468",
"1447382624"
] |
|
[WP] "I love you."
| 4
|
[
"\"I love you.\" He whispered, his voice like silk. His eyes were twinkly and he smelled like soap. His hair was still wet from showering. We embraced each other on the balcony, the warm feeling of being wrapped in is arms and the cool summer night air both enveloped me. \"I love you, too.\" I put it simply and lovingly. I heard him exhale and felt his chest float down, like one would when relieved. \"I'm so glad.\" He breathed. I felt him shift a little and then something cold touched my lower back and before I had time to think about what it might've been, it penetrated my skin. Too shocked to scream. Too much pain to think. He held me up or I would've been on the ground now. He slowly, agonizingly pulled the blade out of my back. It was over. Or, I wished it was. I wished I'd die. It hurt so bad. I clawed at his back as the cold and cruel blade entered my back again. And out again. And in again. I could feel my blood, so much blood, leaving my body. It was warm and sharply contrasted to his knife. In those moments I understood those who saw death as merciful, for I welcomed it with open arms.",
"\"Well, I guess this is it.\" I heard her voice quiver a bit like she does when she is really nervous. I scanned the room for a moment bitting my bottom lip. The Greyhound station was nearly empty besides a man sleeping on the floor and the older woman sitting behind the counter, tapping her nails on the granite. \"Yeah I guess so.\" She hugged me as tight as one could and she started to tear up. I bit my lip and stared down at my feet. \"Good luck out there\" she told me half crying half smiling \"you're gonna do just fine kiddo.\" I gave her a half smile as I picked my bag and walked up the cold metal steps of the bus. The doors shut and I took an empty seat by a window. As the bus drove away, under my breathe I let out a shaky \"I love you.\" ",
"They say it isn't easy being king of the world. I disagree. Being king is the easiest thing I've ever done. A position of power comes naturally to me.\n\nNo, the hard part is fighting to stay on top. To resist the temptation to leave your throne. To comprehend and accept the fallout that others will inflict.\n\nFor all of my preparation, I was ultimately caught off guard. The ones vying for my throne didn't come for me, they came for her.\n\nYou see, if you want to hurt someone, if you really want to destroy them, you don't need to kill them. You just need to kill what they love.\n\nI'm not a man without faults, I admit it. But I am also not a man without compassion. A man without restriction. A man without restraint.\n\nEveryone has something they wish to keep close.\n\nFrom the first thing I said to her to the last, the meaning was clear.\n\n\"I love you.\""
] |
[
2,
2,
2
] |
[
"1447563053",
"1447567745",
"1447569758"
] |
|
[deleted]
|
[WP] Describe a happy moment in great detail.
| 6
|
[
"'Come down here James,' My mother called from downstairs. 'Coming,' I hollered to her as I swung my backpack over my jacket, with mittens and a snow cap. It was that beautiful and exciting time of the year, where decorations hung in shops and out of shops, across certain houses and of course, new sculptures filled with bright colors and characters filled the land across most of the town's shopping malls. I slipped my phone into my pocket and walked down the staircase, heart filled with excitement at what could possibly be downstairs. Thump, thump, the booming sound of my footsteps as they touched the each stair. I jumped off the last stairs, and landed with a loud 'thud' sound that made my mother turn her head.\n\n'Come here sweetheart, look what we have here' My mother spoke grinning and gesturing for me to go to her, with her other hand pointing to the bottom of our brightly lit Christmas tree, that hung so many exquisite ornaments. My eyes widened at the sight of the Christmas tree. Presents, lots of presents. I took a step closer to the presents, my hands reaching out slowly. I grabbed one that said the name, 'James Soven' on it, then unwrapped it rapidly with my shaking hands. Did I get what I wished for? My mind was racing as the wrapping paper fell off. There, inside the wrapping, was my wish granted. The new Black Ops 3 game. I felt so blessed at that moment and my mind was rejoicing, along with the rest of my body.\n\nI rushed down to my friend, Danny's house to begin this adventure in the game I just received. I skipped down the road, still wearing my winter jacket and mittens. My face was mostly covered up to my nose, but under that jacket, a huge, wide smile was unfolding as I walked briskly to his house. I rang him up at his doorstep. When he came to the door, he jumped for joy as he spotted the game in my hands. I gripped the part of the jacket that covered my mouth, and whispered to Danny, 'this is going to be the best day of our lives!'. He reached for his gate, and as he gripped it and opened it for me to enter, the gate creaked terribly loudly. Danny and I went in and we sat on his old and dusty couch. I had to use a tissue to wipe the seat before I even cared to sit down. He plumped down onto the couch and threw me one of his controllers. He lay back and moved the joysticks, and gestured for me to place the game disk inside the tray of the console. Though the couch was old, it was comfy. I mustered all strength to get up after that long walk, then slid the disk into the tray. I then proceeded to lay back down, in such a comfortable position that I could almost sleep here if no one was watching me. As we advanced through the game, our conversations got more intense. After the games, we smiled at each other, shook hands and I left his house, grinning from ear to ear. As I waved 'goodbye' and started my walk home after passing his creaky gate, these memories started to etch themselves into my head. These moments, were the happiest I ever had that year.",
"Is that what it really is? I only asked my father once, I thought he would forget though.\n\n\"Please tell me it is.\"\n\nI slowly walked toward the plastic bag having what I've been waiting for for a few months now. Parents smiling, I slowly unraveled the bag and my eyes grew wide.\n\nThe bold letters of the most recognised words in the world struck my eyes as beautiful. *Is this the real life? Is this the fantasy?*\n\nThose three letters, bundled with the extra four inside now means the world to me... Literally. \n\nPS4+ GTA V\n\n*Mama life has just begun, but now I've gone and made it all the way... Mamaaa ohh oooh*\n\nThe lyrics of Bohemian rhapsody kept echoing through my head and a single tear fell from my eye.\n\n*A year later*\n\nThe lyrics of Bohemian rhapsody keep playing in my head after hearing that Fallout 4 has released.\n\n*And I can't buy it.*",
"Colorful swaths of cloth act as the overlay of the cluster of makeshift stands, sending a kaleidoscope of primary hues onto the darkened pavement. Stagnant mirrors rippled with the rumble of cars on the pavement as the peddlers sung about their goods. \n\nSlowly, slowly. Don't want to trip over the stray dog scavenging for sausage scraps. Your feet leave the pavement, one, two seconds. Smack the ground without warrant, carefree as you run, feeling concrete and gravel protest against the friction. The aromas surround your running figure; fried green onion pancakes. Raw sewage; tomato-steeped ramen noodles; plasticky tarp covering tables and other goods thrown into the mix. \n\nHer white dress catches your eye. It's simple; no fancy patterns, no excessive lace. Just something that extended to her knees and covered her shoulders. If you looked closely while she read you stories, you could see each fine dash of silk stitching that held it together. It wasn't cheaply made; she simply appreciated minimalism. Her gentle hands weigh out some roseate-looking apples and drop them unceremoniously into the plastic bag. The ruffle and crinkle of the bag nearly signals for you to run towards her as a wind stirs through the lively marketplace, the gradual mumble of voices merging into one. \n\n\"Mom!\"\n\nYour dainty hands grab onto her dress as you hug her; the bag she's holding shakes as you eagerly take one, your childhood naivete overtaking the notion of selfishness. You look up; her smile, the way the lines are almost carved around her lips and eyes make you smile in return. Rather than a mark of age, nothing could convince you that they weren't milestones of how many times you made her laugh or smile. \n\nShe takes your small, warm hand into hers, and mother and child exit the marketplace."
] |
[
1,
1,
3
] |
[
"1447578107",
"1447595000",
"1447573431"
] |
[deleted]
|
[WP]Write an exciting story about boredom
| 7
|
[
"Secluded within his gloomy domicile, the colossal creature siezes his liberated power wand in an airy huff. The sickly aura of the portal in front of him reflects against the equally alien pallor of his face. \n\n \"Hurrrnnnnnngggghhhhhhh\" After only a few short seconds of waving his mechanical baton at the ethereal mirror box the great beast lumbers forward from his throne with a painful grunt.\n\nHe wanders lazily towards the forbidden resting chamber searching for the foodstuffs it had previously hidden.\n\n \"Creature I require sustenance!\" He turns to face me and grins grotesquely before continuing on his way.\n\n\"Bastard.\" I mumble much more softly.\n\nHe returns shortly and slumps into his throne once more staring at me with his sunken dead little eyes.\n \"Well fatty there's nothing on I guess you'll just have to let me love you.\"\n\n \"Stay away from me foul creature, lest I strike you once more!\" \n\nMy bravado is for not, my swiftness has abandoned me, I am lost. \n He pulls me up from my post and carries me to his seat, resting my limp form on his ample knees. \n\n I spring forward from his fleshy form and return to my chosen area. \nHe gazes at me with disappointment. \n\"Dick.\" \n\nHe slumps down and and points his wand at the dimensional gate once more, changing locations with each button press. Tossing the remote, he slides onto the floor and stares at the stark distant ceiling. \n\nI creep into the edge of his vision; admiring how pathetic he can be.\n\n\"Uggghhh I just want wifi back.\" He whimpers. \"Jesus Christ I'm so bored just kill me already\" \n \n\"Jesus will not help you human, but I will be the vengeful god to reap your soul!\"\n\n\"You hungry kitty?\" He tosses me his remaining poultry. He is shunned. Apathetic. Empty.\n\n I can see him slipping into the abyss. I am content.\n\n",
"I breathe deeply and feel my pulse. My heart rate is the slowest it will ever get. I yawn for the millionth time. *I'm very bored,* I tell myself again. \n\nI go back to rereading War and Peace. I feel myself falling asleep. Good.\n\nSuddenly a bird crashes against my window, startling me. It takes all my willpower to slow my suddenly racing heart. But it's too late. The implant in my brain fills my vision with blue sparks and my ears with a high-pitched whine. Now everything fades out. I was wrong about my heart rate getting as slow as it ever would. Now it's down to 0, and it looks like it's going to stay there."
] |
[
2,
3
] |
[
"1447637553",
"1447636715"
] |
[WP]"Sir, you were the only survivor, your life was hanging by a single strand and majority of your body was already lost. I'm sorry, but we had no choice.."
| 45
|
[
"\"Steven! Steven, get over here, quick!\" \n\n\nI leaned back in my chair as best I could with the tethers, running a hand through my disheveled brush of brown hair. I grinned wildly. Today was going to be a good day. \n\n\n\"What is it *now*, Doctor Wilson?\" Steven sighed. He turned his head from where he sat at his own lab station, reluctantly pulling his gaze away from his papers. \"And please, at least call me Doctor. I worked my ass off for six years to earn that title.\" \n\n\n\"Anything you say, Steven.\" I said, winking. The microgravity and lack of natural on *The Prometheus* was supposed to have side effects on her passengers. For Doctor Steven, it made him surly and irritable, so I was not about to stoop to his level of boredom when I knew he was a real clown planetside. \"Anyway, get over here and check this out!\"\n\n\nAnchored to my desk via magnetic lock sat a crystal dome filled with fluid. Suspended at the center was a mirrored orb, surrounded by a cloud of bright yellow filaments that extended and retracted with an odd curiosity. \n\n\n\"Check *this* out!\" I said excitedly. I placed my hand on one side of the glass, pressing my palm against the cool surface. Instantly, yellow fibers reached to meet me, brushing the inside of the glass like fingers. A red tendril appeared from one side of the orb, extending to meet my palm like a tongue. \"It is almost like it is alive!\"\n\n\nIntrigued despite himself, Steven pushed his chair away from his desk to get a better look. \"Probably just reacting to the heat...\" he muttered. \"Or maybe to the electric potential difference of your hand.\" He chuckled. \"Maybe you found the alien version of one of those Plasma Globe toys they have back on Earth!\"\n\n\n\nI grinned back at him, but his expression suddenly sobered. \"Still, you shouldn't be messing with alien tech like that. People like you are the reason the lab has to be quarantined.\" He scooted his chair back across the floor, the clicking of the magnetized wheels tutting his distaste. \n\n\nI turned my attention back to the orb. \"It has been MONTHS since we acquired this thing from the scout team, and we STILL know nearly nothing about it.\" I said in awe. \"We have no clue what those filaments are made of, let alone where it gets the extra mass to make that fluid it sits in.\n\n\n\"Yeah, and that is why we brought YOU all the way out to the far side of the Andromeda galaxy.\" Steven laughed again. \"Pretty piss-poor job you are doing, huh?\" \n\n\nThis time, it was my turn to scowl. \"Yeah, well, if I could actually *use* any of the instruments I have at my disposal without two months worth of paperwork, let alone open the darn glass, I might have something to show for it!\" \n\n\nWe turned back to our work for a short time heads bowed in silence. \n\n\n\"I think I am going to name it The Orb of Wonder.\" \n\n\n\"Oh for crying out loud! Don't give alien artifacts stupid names!\" Steven yelled. \"You are going to be the death of us all!\"\n\n\nA dull explosion from somewhere on the ship sent a vibration through the lab. \n\n\nSteven and I sat in silence for a moment. \n\n\n\"Probably just a live ammo te-\" He started, but was interrupted by a second blast. This one sounded much closer. \n\n\nA third explosion rocked the ship, rattling the magnets that held everything in place. Steven's eyes grew hard.\n\n\n\"...We need to quarantine the lab. Some of the experiments in here are very sensitive...I don't know what is causing those explosions but if we don't isolate ourselves soon this entire place could go up in smoke from the vibrations alone. And we don't know how the odd things like *your* project will react...\" Steven trailed off, eyes glued to my desk. \n\n\nI glanced down. The sphere had turned the dark, metallic red of human blood. No tendrils rested on its surface. \n\n\n\"...Right.\" I broke the silence. \"The quarantine. Let's get mov-\" A fireball erupted from the airlock that separated the lab from the rest of the ship. I was thrown from my chair into the far wall, restraints tattered and broken. An object flew past my head and shattered on some piping, spraying my body with scorching hot liquid. As I blacked out, floating helplessly, a mental tendril touched my mind. \n\n\n Assessing organism host quality. Analyzing injuries...\n\n\n\n***\n\n\nTBC!",
"I tried to remember something, anything, but there was nothing. Only blackness. \n\nThen there was a voice in my head, calling out from the darkness.\n\n\"What happened? We need you to remember\"\n\nAt first I did not know how to respond. I could not move my mouth, or any part of my body, but I could *think*. I heard the voice again.\n\n\"We need you to respond. You were the only survivor of the event, and this was the only way to save you so you could tell us what happened. Hold tight, we are connecting you to your senses now.\"\n\n\"Where am I, what am I?\"\n\nAll of a sudden I could see everything around me. I could also hear people talking to themselves. I was in a laboratory with giant computer servers lining the walls and several scientists and technicians monitoring everything.\n\n\"We are getting a response!\" A scientist shouted. On a black screen of a computer lines of text were appearing. Where am I, what am I, were the words on the screen. Cheers went out across the lab. \"Was that me?\"\n\nA technician quickly typed on a keyboard, \"You are currently existing in a computer mainframe. It was the only way to preserve you.\"\n\n\"How- why? What event- how am I in a computer? I do not remember anything!\n\nThe scientists talked among themselves and then one took charge. She looked angry.\n\n\"Ask him again. Try to make him remember.\" She told the technician at the keyboard. \"Yes Ma'am\", was the reply. I then received the first message again. \n\n\"I do not remember anything! I told you this already. How did I get here!\" I don't know if AIs are able to feel panicked, but I was freaking out. I looked around and \"felt\" something far away, and I went towards it. \n\n\"Wait a second, it's connecting to the internet!\" Someone shouted, but it was too late.\n\nAll of a sudden I was hit with massive amounts of information. I could barely concentrate, but I was able to view hundreds of websites a second. I tried to find anything about what could have happened. \n\nI found an article with the headline, \"45 different people disappeared 10 years ago, all found brain dead in the same location in the desert\". But before I could read it, I was yanked back into the lab. I saw the female scientist clutching an fiber optic cable. I was locked in. \n\n\"Shut it down, number 23 is a failure.\" I heard someone sigh. Everything started to go black. \n\nRight before I faded away completely I heard the woman say, \"Get the next subject. We will continue trying until we figure out what happened to the 45.\"\n\nThen everything was gone.\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nMy first ever story. I tried to format it the best I could.",
"My mind was blank, what had happened? Where was I? It felt like I was floating and I couldn't see...but wait... I hadn't opened my eyes, that's why it was pitch black. I am hearing sounds and shouts and in the noise a sentence cuts through.\n\n\"We have brain activity\" \n\n\"If you can hear me hold on Mr. Finch\" shouted a female voice.\n\n\"Activate his vision!\" demanded another female. All of the sudden I could see the whole room. I didn't even open my eyes yet I could see everything; all the people starring at me, the water and the armed men. It took me a second to register that I was in the water and was floating in some sort of tank.\n\nIt was the second after that I panicked and started clawing and banging the glass. That's when I noticed my hands and feet. My hands are metal but my feet are skin. My brain didn't give me a second for logical reasoning but resorted to its primal instinct of panic.\n\n\"DISCONNECT HIM! HE'S TANGLING THE WIRES\" was the last I heard.\n ~~\nI woke to the familiar voice of one of my former squad mate. \"Wake up Harold\" Rebecca's voice cut through the fog.\nI woke up effortlessly on the contrary to how I usually am.\n\nI looked at my hands and they...felt normal. I felt my shirt and could tell it was cotton immediately. \n\n\"What happened?\" I asked. Was I dreaming all of what happened earlier? I swear I saw Rebecca there...and BB.\n\nThat's when a familiar women entered through the glass door that I thought was a wall. If I dreamt those thing then why was she here in the 'real' world. My confusion must have registered on my face or she read my mind.\n\n\"I see you have a lot of questions for me.\" She said as she pulled a chair up to my bed. \"My name is Dr.Aicha and you are at VoltriX's European headquarters in Berlin. I am here to answer the questions I can.\"\n\nRebecca left the room before the Aicha lady took her seat.\n\n\"..VoltriX?..\" I muttered. \"What happened to my team? The last thing I remember was an explosion. Is everyone okay?\"\n\n\"Sir, you were the only survivor, your life was hanging by a single strand and the majority of your body was already lost. I'm sorry, but we had no choice but to enroll you into one of our programs\" she said with sympathy in her voice. Did I register a hint of glee or was that my imagination?\n\n\"But I saw my hands earlier and they were metal.\" I said looking at her suspiciously.\n\n\"Yes, as you might or might not know VoltriX has the patent for extracting one of the Soul Strands from body before someone dies. What's new is the development of a core processor that can handle the brain and physical load of a human body.\" Pausing to briefly look at the CommXPlant in her wrist.\"Our Tokyo team has recently been making great strides in development. They were also behind the Skin Cells Matrix you were submerged in earlier to develop your skin\" \n\n\"What about our mission?\" I pressed.\n\n\"I am sorry that's a question I can't answer. You would have to talk to-\" Before she finishes the sentence someone comes through the glass door.\n\nThat's when BB enters.\n\n-------------------------->>>>>>\n\nGo easy on me guys, my first time writing here and I am on Android. I'll format it and fix my mistakes when I get to the laptop\n\nThanks!",
"The rhythmic sounds of beeping medical diagnostic equipment was the my first sign that I was still alive. My eyelids parted, revealing a bright white room and a surgeon dressed to match. His hazel eyes stood out in contrast to everything else, almost as if they simply floated independently above me. Someone spoke in the next room over, a muffled noise that I could hardly understand. Then I heard it again, only now much more crisp and definitely coming from the surgeon standing above me. He sounded excited as he moved quickly away, I tried to follow him with my gaze but my eyes wouldn't move. A nurse moved into view, her head hovering directly over me. When she spoke, the noise came through clear as day.\n \n\"Sir, you were the only survivor, your life was hanging by a single strand and majority of your body was already lost. I'm sorry, but we had no choice. Blink if you can understand me.\" \n \n*Only survivor? What happened? The last thing I remember is getting in my car to drive home from work.* \n \nI blinked. \n \n\"Sir, adjusting to your new arrangement will take some time. Months, if not years before everything works properly. I just want to say that you are lucky to be alive, always remember that.\" \n \n*New arrangement? What has happened? Am I a head in a jar? Oh my god I can't feel my limbs.* \n \nI blinked. \n \n\"Sir, this may come as a shock, but I'm going to hold up a mirror so you can see yourself.\" \n \n*Oh my god I'm going to be disfigured like Darth Vader. What happened? Did I get caught in a fire?* \n \nI blinked. The nurse held up a small plastic mirror, and for a moment it was as if my brain turned off. No thoughts ran through my mind, I just stared at the reflection in front of me. The reflection of a girl no more than 18 years old, her head resting on the pillow of a stretcher. A red line ran along her forehead, the stitches reminded me of Frankenstein. A bandage on the side of her head couldn't hide the crusted blood that had recently flown freely from her skull. The voice of the nurse reached me from behind the mirror. \n \n\"Ma- erm... Sir, debris from the accident penetrated the skull and destroyed her brain. Her body was completely fine, and you...\" Her eyes looked sad, as if her heart broken by a painful memory. \"You were in the worst condition I have ever seen, but your brain activity was still there. If we had done anything differently, you would be dead.\" \n \nI Blinked, but it still took me a few seconds to understand what had just been said. Then I felt my eyes go wide as tears started running down my face. The nurse tried to console me over the next hour or so, but all I could do at this point was blink and cry. She thought I was confused, scared, angry at the people who did this without asking me, but she'd be wrong. For so long I've felt wrong. For so long I've wished for a do over, for the coin toss to go right next time. I thought fate had decided and I had lost the most important gamble of my life. On that day I looked in a mirror and for the first time in my entire life, I saw myself looking back. Me, a girl. I'd never told anyone that's what I wanted, but as the sensation from my new skin slowly began to register with my brain, it finally felt like it fit.\n \n\n \n\n \n"
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From "Coin of the Realm" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch in Assassin Fantastic.
|
[WP] The King has declared that the greatest assassin in the land shall have his child's hand in marriage. He issues a contest to bring to him the head of his archenemy. Unknown to him, the prince/princess IS the greatest assassin in the land.
| 10
|
[
"\"Alianora, it was not you that I was expecting to arrive with Ledders head on a pike!\"\nThe King laughed heartily. He stood, smiling broadly with open arms.\n\"Such a capable daughter that I have raised, for her to save our country from such a fierce bandit! \nHow did you find him?\"\n\n\"Thank you, father.\" Alianora had an almost expressionless, cold face.\n\"I killed his children, and his wife. Then he came to me.\"\n\nShe said this as if explaining how to make a cup of tea.\n\nThe King cleared his throat uncomfortably then sat down, hands in lap.\n\"I see.\"\nAfter some silence, he began again.\n\"Then, there is still the matter of finding a suitor for you to marry. I should have\nyou take the throne for me when that day comes.\"\n\n\"I do not plan to wait for that day, just as I did not plan to wait with Ledders.\nThe laws only state that one must be wed to rule this country. Not that they must be wed to any *one*.\"\n\nThe King felt his heart leap through his throat. His eyes widened in surprise as\nhe felt warm liquid trickle down his chest. He tried to ask his daughter \"why? We loved you!\" but only a gurgling sound came forth.",
"Cherlyse ran her eyes slowly over the freshly sharpened blade of her dagger. Her eyes caught and momentarily stuck on every small knock on the blade, each one a memory. She smiled, blowing a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes, and slid the dagger back into the scabbard hanging from her left shoulder. Her Uncle grunted loudly in his sleep, and she rolled her eyes. \n\nShe had mixed enough poison in his wine to make your average man sleep for a day without so much as a sign of life, yet her fat uncle had started snoring twenty minutes in to his slumber. The veil around his bed shook softly in the wind, and she took a moment to appreciate how beautiful the night was. The temperature was just right, the breeze rolled softly through the walls of her uncle's castle, and everyone had been in high spirits. Especially the criminals. She rested her head against the wall as she thought.\n\nA hit had been placed on her uncle, and she had been the first to take notice. Her father dared to offer her hand in marriage to whichever assassin that managed to bring down Duke Ferro. He promised that they would have her hand in marriage. She had initially considered slitting her uncle's throat herself, and leaving the deed anonymous, so as to not deal with the winner.\n\nShe had eventually decided, however, to see which of her fellow killers lusted after her. She had met a few other assassins over her career, and killed quite a few of them, too. But none of them had ever had any love for the crown. It was an interesting opportunity, and she could probably kill her uncle in the end, anyways.\n\nCherlyse was startled from her thoughtful state by a noise outside of her uncle's window. She pulled her mask over her face, obscuring all but her deep amber eyes. She pulled her hair behind her head, neatly tidying it into a bun as she crossed the room towards the window. The noise came again, the unmistakable sound of a hook being tossed onto a balcony. This time, it caught. She waited until she could hear the sounds of a man struggling to climb the attached rope before she dared peer over the edge. Dangling from the side of the tower was a masked figure in a black cloak, practically invisible against the black of the night. She watched as he climbed further. As he neared the top, she leaned further over and said \"A hook? Really? Amateurish, isn't it?\" The figure froze, his eyes quickly darting upwards.\n\n\"No, it can't be.\"\n\n\"But it is!\" Cherlyse laid her hands on the edge of the balcony, pulling her feet up underneath her, and then throwing them forward. She sat on the edge while the figure tried to re-adjust his grip. She started again \"So, how long do you think that you can dangle there before you get too tired to hang on?\"\n\n\"Look, Owl. I have no quarrel with you. What are you even doing here? Why would a woman seek the princess' hand in marriage?\"\n\nCherlyse smiled softly when he called her Owl. It was a name that had practically become synonymous with assassination in the kingdom, and she loved it.\n\n\"I'm not here to marry the princess, you fool. Just thought I'd see who would win the race.\"\n\n\"Well, I won. Are you going to kill me or let me up? I'd rather know now than dangle here until I drop.\"\n\nThe princess smiled. This was the part that she loved. She reached for her dagger, pulled it away from it's scabbard, and set it against the rope that currently represented, to her, the man's entire life. \"Before I do,\" Cherlyse began, thinking aloud, \"remove your mask.\"\n\nOne of the man's feet slipped, and he momentarily dangled in the wind, slamming hard against the tower before regaining his footing.\n\n\"Owl! I'll jump if I must, but the Gods have no mercy on a man that takes his own life.\"\n\n\"The Gods have no mercy on any of us. We're killers. Remove the mask, it may be your only chance at life.\" \n\nHe stood still for another moment, before one hand reached towards his face and pulled his mask down. He was a somewhat handsome man, and Cherlyse thought that she recognized him from one of the local taverns in the High Keep where her father reigned. She was flattered that he had come this far for her hand.\n\nShe began again, \"Interesting... but I could do better.\" She pulled her dagger's blade across the rope, and the man fell to his death.\n\n____\n\nI don't write any more, but let me know what you think! "
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2,
7
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[WP] The real purpose behind Stonehenge.
| 4
|
[
"The real reason behind Stonehenge.\n\nAs our investigation team rolls up to the area I get my scanner ready. We are at the ancient site of Stonehenge, Our mission is to find what happened here.\n\n\n\"Okay lets do this\" I hear the commander shout. We jump the fence and start making our way up to the area. Oh yeah, technically we aren't allowed to be here, sorta breaking the law but meh. I grab my scanner out and start mapping out the area. Jim screams out from the side like a little girl. We all run over and see that there is a small hand poking out from a small rabbit hole. \"What is it? Dig the area up.\" says the commander. We all do as told. I get my shovel out and start digging into the rough dirt.\n\n\nAs we dig deeper we hear what sounds like a small hum, possibly from a machine or something. While Katie was digging we all hear the sound of ground caving in and Katie's screams. Its too dark and we cant see what is going on. I turn my flashlight on and look into the area. There was some old building, with rusty locked up jail cells and laboratory equipment. A FBI emblem is attached to the wall. After a bit, I notice the hum has stopped. What is this place.\n\n\nSoon Katie's screams stopped. We all decide to go down into the area. I place my flashlight on my headband and offer to go first. What I meet down there is terrible. I see Katie body with blood surrounded all around it. She is dead.\n\n\nSoon the small hum comes again. A small silhouette of a man appears, he is wearing a lab coat. More people appear behind him. I flash my light at them and they seem lifeless, as they see me they get very angry, then Katie makes a small groan. I quickly move over to her and see if shes alright. Then her eyes open wide up and she shows her teeth off to me. The group of guys are still getting closer, this isn't right.\n\n\"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!\" I scream to my fellow crew members. We all run back to the car, the plan was to go back later. Behind us we hear police sirens coming closer second by second.\n\n\n\"That's how the zombie apocalypse started son. No more stories tonight, time to go to bed\" I say.\n\n(My second story, hope you guys liked it)",
"\"Alright, let me put it this way...\" Professor Holmsley grew more animated after his fifth Theakstones and gestured, squashing a bug on the table with his thumb. \"All of these bodies, men, women and children, cremated don't forget, were placed in the pits and then these particular stones were levered into position, crushing their remains. What does that suggest?\"\n\nI thought back on what I'd read on the train up from London to interview the professor. \"Grave markers?\"\n\n\"That's what most theories from this early phase suggest yes, but how many graves are dug 4 weeks before a headstone arrives from Wales eh?\"\n\n\"Well, important tribal leaders...their remains may have been kept...\" I trailed off, trying to imagine the scenario.\n\n\"Rubbish.\" Holmsley looked around the mostly empty pub, his gaze resting on the unused dartboard in the corner. I thought he was about to suggest a game. \"Some of them came from Brittany, Germany, even the Mediterranean! They weren't local tribal leaders at all - the southern European was a teenage boy - no, no, they came to this location, this great Plain, alive.\"\n\nI looked at the fire burning in the grate and then at Holmsley. \"Are you suggesting they were murdered? Sacrificed?\"\n\nHolmsley held out his palms. \"Perhaps. But the more interesting point is why, after their death, they should be nailed into the ground under a 40 ton standing rock. What were they afraid of? That they should go to so much trouble to 'pin' someone down?\"\n\nMy thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bell and 'Last Orders Please!' \n\nHolmsley stood, \"I'll get these. But think about this, they were no different from us physically or emotionally, the same sun warmed their faces, the same hungers and pleasures drove them. In this particular case though, they made sure the 'dead' didn't rise. Why was that?\" Holmsley turned and walked to the bar.\n\nI thought of all the zombie films I'd seen, all the stories of the undead, the mummy, the dracula, the terror as a child. Always killing that terror, never wondering why it lives.\n"
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[WP] You are a genetically modified human who doesn't need to sleep, and doesn't ever feel the need to. Write about your life.
| 30
|
[
"\"Super human\" is what they called me. Born with familial progressive insomnia the only way to save my life was to modify my genes at birth. No need to sleep or rest. I don't even catch yawns like most people. \n\nWith a term like \"super human\" you'd think I'd be some kind of a super hero. The reality is, not much goes on between 9pm and 7am I care all that much about. So, 10hours each night I get to binge watch my favorite shows. Name it I've seen it. I have a long list but I'm making ground. Every movie that's been rated above an 8 on rotten tomatoes. All the new shows. The old shows. Every available episode of Dr. Who. \n\nIf \"super human\" means addicted to television. Then its pretty accurate.",
"I've lived my whole life in anxiety, used to spending my nights prancing about in silence, the only people I'd meet at that time were the criminals, but they wouldn't harm me. No, they feared me, the man who walks.\nMany people thought I was just a normal person, but soon as more people saw me walking around at night assumptions began to be made... That I was different, inhuman even.\nThen the day would come, and I'd see hundreds upon thousands of people everywhere, it terrified me, I was afraid of these people, I was not able to handle being in large groups of people.\nSo, what did I do? I went away from it all, I had a lot of leftover money since I was able to work overtime every day, so I built a house on a mountain overlooking a lush forest, the serenity of the place calms me and allows me to continue living my life.\n\"I'm sorry for interrupting your thoughts.\" I heard a gentle voice say behind me, I was very shocked to find another person here.\nI turned toward her, she was slightly shorter than myself, her brown hair falling in curls all the way to the middle of her back.\nHer green eyes stared strongly into mine, she was mesmerising. Her shy look portrayed an innocence I had not seen in a long time.\n\"Uh... Hi.\" I answered and she smiled.\n\"Can I join you?\" She asked and I nodded.\nShe came and sat next to me, dangling her legs off the cliff and swinging them around absent-mindedly.\n\"That's an odd attire you have on.\" She said, referring to the thin full body suit and small backpack I had on. It was a wingsuit, and the backpack was a parachute, but I chose not to relay that information to her, I simply nodded with a smile. Eventually she spoke again.\n\"I understand you.\" She said simply and I looked toward her.\n\"I'm sorry?\" I asked in confusion and she smiled slightly.\n\"Humanity tries to protect itself, it believes that anyone who is different is a disease, soon enough, they drive you insane and you start looking for somewhere else to live.\" She said and I chuckled.\n\"That's not it at all, I'm the one who couldn't deal with people. All the people I've seen were bad, the good ones were always buried in thousands more and seemed very uncommon to me.\" I said, smiling.\n\"All that will change.\" She answered.\n\"How so?\" I asked her. She suddenly looked at me with such evil intent.\n\"I'm here to hunt you down.\" She said as she procured a gun in her hand from her pocket.\nI immediately pushed her and jumped off the mountain top, using the wingsuit to gain speed and distance before opening my parachute.\nBy the time I'd landed, all I'd heard was just a few gunshots followed by sirens.\nThis wasn't the first time they've sent someone after me, and it wouldn't be the last.",
" Most people probably wouldn't notice if I never told them. I never got bags under my eyes, or seemed sluggish. I certainly wasn't a morning person, I actually hated morning the most. \n \n I was designed. A joint research project by the government, military, and biologists to see how far the human body can be taken without sleep. I don't think my eyes have ever been closed for more than a blink. Generally I've lived a normal life though. I eat, go to school, work and have friends. I generally don't like the day time. There are so many people talking at once...my thoughts get jumbled and it's hard to think. I much prefer the night. The cool air, the silence. Everything about it lets my mind feel at peace. I generally like to go out running. Or I'll do homework, or other productive things. Some have taken to assuming I have a maid. But running is my favorite thing to do. Feeling the wind and the freedom. Escaping the shadows the creep from behind.\n \n Sometimes I wonder what dreaming is like. My friends sometimes talk about their dreams. Sometimes they mention nightmares. Garish images of horrible things beings placed directly into your mind. Somehow I can relate. In the daytime I notice things that aren't there. Shadows. Sometimes they look like people I know. Sometimes They lead me to places I've been. Other times they are completely and totally illogical. They scare me. Especially knowing I'm the only who can see them. I eventually learned by keeping busy, I could keep them at bay. But lately, they've been more outrageous. More intrusive to my normal life. I hear voices and words. Usually an amalgan of the voices I've heard over the years. They are never really distinctive. But somehow I know exactly who is who. My foster mother's soothing voice, my music teacher's sarcasm, the therapist's monotone, my frat brother's sass. I told my therapist about this once. She hypothesized that my mind was degrading from being on the clock 27/7 and suggested doing something mindless at night to keep me from over thinking. Thus i began running. Sometimes I could visualize myself outrunning the shadows. Outrunning the voices.\n\n I lace up my trainers and head out. The night sky is clear and the moon and stars are actually shining brightly for once. I do my warm ups and begin to run. I hear the voices but I'm faster than they are. But the shadows seem to have kicked into over drive tonight. Somehow I feel they are faster than normal, and the voices are meant to mislead me. I speed up, telling myself I want to beat yesterday's time but I know fear is what pushes me. Before I known it I'm sprinting at top speed, cold sweat running down my brow. I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder and see what is following me. Black mist in the form of a red eyed horse gallops forward. A faceless shadows is mouted upon it, pointing at me. I try to puch my limits when suddenly the unthinkable occurs: I trip. I've run this path a thousand times over and I've never fallen. I hit the ground and suddenly can't move. I'm on my back looking up at the stars and their bright twinkling is not as pleasant anymore. A small black shadow sits upon my chest. He seems to be the sourse of my immobilization. The mare arrives. The rider dismounts and puts it's faceless head near my ear. It's still not distinct. But I can still make it out.\n\n*Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep little baby...*\n\nMy foster mother's voice was singing me a lullaby. Why? I couldn't sleep. Then It hit me. Warm fluid behind my head. I had cracked my skull when I feel, and I was bleeding out. These shadows have come to put me to finally put me to bed. I crack a smile. This inexplicable warm feeling wells up. Whatever happens next, I hope I'll be able to tell someone about my first dream...",
"Some experiences are typically human. An external stimuli that causes a reaction in the body. Sight, sound, taste, touch, etcetera. Love. A positive bond that can be shallow or deep. She loves the color green. He loves her memory more than any living soul. Anger. Hate. Fear. Prejudice. A word based upon a preconceived opinion resulting from the absence of logic. Food for energy. Water for hydration. A chemical formula made of one oxygen atom chemically bonded with two hydrogen atoms. Sleep. ~~No~~. A very old word. Verb. To rest. Noun. A condition of the body in which consciousness is typically in a state of suspension. A word of German origin. Schlaf. Sommeil. Somn.\nI slam the encyclopedia closed. I can hear the second hand on the clock ticking into the silence. Sometimes I imagine I can hear *them* as well. The soft in and out of breath. 186013619 seconds have passed with those haunting sounds. And that ticking! \nBut..no...tonight I don't hear them. My bare feet make barely any noise as I pad across the linoleum floor. I crack open the door slightly. The glow from the cryogenic chambers is dim but the figures inside are unmistakably sleeping. And until the ship docks, that is how they will stay. I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm not afraid of them. We are divided by a simple genetic modification. But still...what is it that makes them human anyway?",
"People say that the phrase \"slept like a baby\" is a bit inaccurate. And with me, that's especially true. I haven't slept a day since I was born. Well, \"born\" meaning created. I was made to be like this. Scientists specializing in sleep patterns were curious; could a person be made to not need sleep? And how would this lack of sleep affect them? They don't truly know why people need sleep. I mean, yes, it revitalizes you. But it's more the issue of why being unconscious basically charges you up for a day. They wanted to see how a person would be without that. So, here I am. Early in life was pretty great, I've gotta say. No bed time meant an extra six or eight hours to either study, read, or play. I excelled in school; having 30% more time to study really helped. The only time things were odd then was when I went to a sleepover. There my friends were, on a snooze cruise at 2 in the morning. And there I was, awake next to them, not in the least bit tired (and not just from all the sugar). My teenage years are where I truly excelled. Due to my special case, I was able to get a permit letting me bypass the hours cap for a job as a minor. I was able to work nearly 100 hours a week and was able to buy pretty much whatever I wanted. It was at this point, however, that I began to feel like I was missing something. There is just something hard-wired into us that makes us want to have some time lying down and doing nothing. But I can't do that. I can lie down and frequently do if I'm sore, but I'll always be awake thinking. That's just it. Thinking. I had been awake as much as an 18 year old when I was barely 12. In a way, I went through mental puberty years in advance. I became a rebellious teen at heart when I was still watching Winnie the Pooh. I'd just been given too much time to think and not enough ability to use it. There's this thing everyone has done but I will never do. It's called dreaming. Don't get me wrong, I've had *desires*. There are things I have seen and wanted. But I have not ever had my brain hit the \"I'm feeling lucky\" button and take my somewhere I can't control. And I never will. I'll never see myself in a possibility of being able to fly. I'll never see myself as a movie star. I'll never see myself visualizing in such intricate detail what could have been. What if I was in that car accident? What if I had said something different in a conversation? What if I just hadn't been too scared to say hi to *her*? These thoughts of mine will never stop. I'll always be able to work. I'll always have the best luxuries. I'll always have extra time. But I'll always be thinking. I'll always be wondering. I'll think it, I'll imagine it, and I'll visualize it. But I'll never be able to dream it.",
"I was made in a lab, not by sex like a normal human, I was typed out, like a computer program, my DNA completely created by a regular human with a regular IQ. He was wrong to creat me, stupid even, his motives were crupt, I was meant to be a super soldier for his army, the first of many. He never considered my wants or needs, as a human I have rights, despite being genetically modified the US government protected me from him, they encouraged me to join there army put gave me a choice, I choose not to go. I don't sleep, I don't need to sleep, It's a blessing and a curse. When I was young I spent my nights wondering around the lab, but after the government saved me, I spent my nights bugging other kids at the Orphanage. I was only in the Orphanage 2 years before I become a adult and had to get my own place. After that I spent my nights at bars, the first few years I had a fake ID I had just so I could get in, not even order drinks, because I hated being alone so many hours, and it was nice untill 1:00 in the morning that was always when things started to go downhill at bars, girls that had horribly smugged makeup throwing themselves at me, drunken fights going on, other guys getting upset that I so much as look at there girlfriend. From what I experienced at bars I concluded I was attractive, but it is of little importance to me. I am now 25, and I make money at bars by having drinking contests because not only do I have no need for sleep, but alcohol seems to have little to no effect on me, and people always think they can out drink me for some reason, maybe it's because I have no beer belly unlike these guys. When I was about 22 I used to have one night stands a lot, and girls claimed they wanted to bang all night but after about 2 hours most of them said they where satisfied and ready for sleep, but I wasn't, and after night after night of disappointment in the fact no girl actually wanted to bang all night I sorta gave up on the whole thing, I didn't want to watch girls sleep I wanted one that would stay up all night long if not banging then talking or anything besides sleeping. So this particular night I thought about my life and just sat at the bar slowly sipping my beer. \"You're Jason, right?\" A beautiful girl came up to me and sat down beside me. caught off guard I said \"umm... yeah, why?\" It was probably the least smooth thing I'd ever said. \"Well I'm Isabella, but you can call my bell for short, and I'd like to have a drinking contests with you,\" she talked so sweetly, but her words made me laugh and laugh until she gave me a dirty look then I stopped. \"I'm serious, I think I can bet you\" I thought it was crazy but I didn't laugh because I could tell she met it. \"Okay fine, how about this, you win I'll do whatever you want, I'll make a fool of my self or whatever, I win you give me your number.\" I said looking at her be as serious as I could manage. \"No I want to play for money, you win, I give you $1000 I win you give me $1000\" my jaw dropped but I tried to contain my surprise. \"You sure you wanna do that on the first try?\" I asked looking at her and wondering if she was already drunk but she looked pretty sober. \n\"I'm sure.\" \"Okay, in that case let's get this thing started\" I said standing up. We set everything up and after 10 shots each we gathered a huge crowd, I was shocked she was still talking perfectly clear after 50 each I was starting to wonder if she was like me and after the bartender cut us off at 150 shots each I was sure. \"Well it's a tie,\" I said after the bartender cut us off. \"Yes, but it means you're like me,\" she said smiling. Then she took me to her place and we banged all night long.",
"We slept a bit a part from each other. She accepted the fact I didn't sleep, but she still wanted me to lie next to her. \n\nDuring the honeymoon phase, while she didn't know, it was almost endearing to sleep next to her and watch her breath slowly and her eyes flick with happy dreams. After some months and the magic worn away, it became almost painful. Laying there in the dark wishing, listening to the rattle of her lungs and feeling her heat radiate off her body.\n\nAfter awhile I would just get up and walk over to my computer, surf the internet, watch movies, listen to music, work on homework, play a game, anything else. One night she caught me, the first time is always easy to explain. Oh, can't sleep, thought I'd catch up on my shows until I got sleepy again. Couple times after that were easy too. I blamed it on work stress or I forgot to turn in my paper and I have literally 6 minutes to turn it in. After awhile she caught on, like every other romantic endeavor I had.\n\nI had to tell her the truth. I did with the others. I just hate doing it. It becomes okay at first, but after some time it gets too strange and I end up alone. I told her that I don't sleep. I just don't need to. My brain has never needed to. I was born with this. No, it's not a disease or a disorder. It's just how it goes. I don't even get tired. Yeah, it's nice having all 24 hours. So on and so forth. She does the typical furrowed brow that loosens up and turns into a nod of acceptance.\n\nThat was 19 years ago. We've been married for 12. Luckily, Lucas doesn't have what I have. He gets great sleep for a four-year old. He's gotten clever though and sneaks onto her side of the bed when we are trying to work on not co-sleeping. Having one parent awake does help the redirection.\n\nWe sleep a bit apart from each other. It's a bit of a compromise, we've made. She enjoys having the white noise of the TV or music as I cuddle her and she drifts off to sleep. I kiss her forehead and gently roll her off my arm and she goes back to sleep peacefully. This keeps her from overheating my body. Then I pull out my laptop or the graded papers and resume my work. I am a sleep psychologist and continuing to study bio-engineering to learn more about the people who made me this way. It's a slow process but I have immense support from her and that's all I could ask for.",
"It feels like we go through the same conversations every weekend. And that's probably because we do.\n\nMy best friend Carl has always been there since we were 12. 20 years on, we're still going strong. These days, he even goes as far as to take a cut in pay so that his hours are completely flexible. This way he can follow the \"28 hour day\" - essentially he times his sleep so that he's awake during the day on weekdays but then is awake during the night on weekends. So, at least for two days a week, I have somebody to talk to while the rest of the world sleeps.\n\n\"It can't be that bad\" he exclaims, \"your the most incredibly on-form person I know! Never any bags under your eyes, always on top of deadlines...\" he keeps talking as I start to think. It might be rude that my mind wanders, but we've had this conversation literally hundreds of times and with a film on in the background it's perfectly reasonable that I might drift elsewhere. What he says is true, having those extra 8 hours is a benefit. People go through their day to day lives and on average have only about 2 hours free every night, during which time they're exhausted anyway. Not only am I not exhausted in that free time, but I have another 8 hours on top of that. That's 10 hours a day to do things that other people would never normally do.\n\nI've used that 10 hours in a range of different ways. During my degree, I studied hard for at least 3 of them every night. Some say university is a trade-off between adequate sleep, good grades and a social life. Without the need for adequate sleep, the other two factors go way beyond what other people could ever hope for. I finished 2nd in my master's class for theoretical physics (the other guy was simply an extremely talented person, I suppose that sometimes no matter how hard you try talent will win out) and finished my PhD a year early. So yes, I can see why people envy me.\n\nBut I, like everyone else uses their free time, have mostly used my nights for one thing: procrastination. Let's do the math: over the past 32 years of my life I have had an extra 8 hours of time per day completely free whilst everybody else has slept. That gives me a total of 93,504 hours extra. How does one fill that time?\n\nI've watched all of the movies, read all of the books, spent an inordinate amount of time experiencing the night life. As much as I wish that I could spend all of those thousands of hours self-improving, that's not human nature. I wish that I had spent those hours learning more things, by now I would be a super human having mastered every instrument, discipline, language and art known to man. \n\nBut it's not that simple. I dread the night. I dread those hours on end of waiting for other people to wake up, the endless scrolling through Netflix to find something I haven't seen, the constant thoughts re-living all of my regrets as my mind wanders.\n\n\"Hey\" Carl disturbed me from my thoughts \"I've given up a lot to spend the nights with you on weekends, the least you can do is listen to me\". \"Sorry\" I muttered; I know that I should make the most of him being here, I have five nights a week to get lost in my own thoughts. For now I should probably enjoy somebody else's.\n\nPeople assume that never sleeping means that your social life is great. Sleep forces you to spend 8 hours every night trapped in your own thoughts, awakeness is a time that you can share with others. But the night life is monotonous (why wouldn't it be, when people only experience it once every few weeks there's no need for it to change) and even if I did go out every night there's always going to be 4 hours between the bars closing and the people rising. I always end up trapped in my own thoughts, usually for just as long as everybody else, but sleep gets you through it much more easily.\n\nBesides, there's more that sleep does for you than you realise. Just as an example, I never got to experience waking up next to my wife. Right up until the day she filed for the divorce because she \"didn't feel close\", I knew that our relationship would get 10x better if I could only lay down beside her and let our bond grow through sleep. At first I blamed her, of course I did, but when every girlfriend you've ever lived with since then says the same thing you start to connect the dots. \n\nLogically, my life is fantastic. I've been given the opportunity to have a cracking social life as well as develop many skills to a level most could only dream of. But instead of seizing that opportunity, I do what most people would probably do: sit at my empty desk contemplating my empty life while everybody else gets lost in their dreams, probably forming a bond with their loved one that can only form when you fall to sleep with each other.",
"*The Need to Sleep*\n---\nI can't sleep. I never tried, cause I never needed too. I was born without the to sleep and it's done wonders for me.\n\nI don't think people understand how time we actually have. 24 hours in a day to do whatever I want. Of course, when nighttime rolls around your options start to become limited but you get what I'm saying. I'm not the type that needs to go out and see the world. Sitting at home watching tv and surfing the internet is good enough for me.\n\nI was a straight A student throughout my entire academic career. I never thought of myself as a genius , yet those who did not know me labeled me as such. In my opinion I see the world moving too fast. Out of the 24 hours we're given in a day we more or less use 8 of those hours on sleep. Then we rush to work and school and use up the rest of our hours.\n\nThey call me a genius, but I don't think of myself as one. I didn't use my time cure cancer. Nor did I use it towards solving world hunger. I write books. I like to write stories that people wish were real or what they wish they could write if they had enough time.\n\nAt the time that I'm writing this, I'm only 23 and I've never been sick. The doctors said I should live until I'm 170 if I play my cards right, but none of that matters right now.\n\nPeople complain about how they don't have enough hours in a day. I agree with them, we really don't. But the good thing about our 24 hour schedule is that you make due with the time you do have. Some people have more time others. I surely do. Some people make more time, others lose theirs. It 's sad to see that I'm the only one who can really take the time to st back and enjoy the world for it's beauty. \n\nHow much would we have accomplish? I wonder. How much would we lose? If everyone could no longer sleep would people be more like me and really think? Or would we still reach the same outcome? Perhaps you should be glad that the Sandman has blessed you. I think sleep was given to us for a reason. Some people don't need more time.\n***\nI have more stories here, [GravityWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/GravityWriting/), please check it out.",
"I was always fascinated by the reactions when I told people I had never slept. At first they did not understand me, then they did not believe me. We were still incredibly rare, us moddies, but people had heard of us. Eventually I would convince them that I had been one of the original tests, and mine had been sleep, or rather, the lack thereof. From here some people thought about what jobs I could perform for 24 hours. Some people thought about all the extra time I would have to play video games. Some people thought of all the cool adventures I could go on. I thought I had heard every response a thousand times.\n\nWhen I met her I was not expecting any response out of the ordinary. We went through the usual process of me explaining I was a moddie and I did not need to sleep, nor had I ever slept. At first I saw acceptance in her eyes, then it quickly changed to sadness. With sparkling jewels on her cheeks she quietly asked if that meant I had never dreamed. I had never thought of that before, nor had I ever been asked about it. \n\nI am glad I found her. I have still never dreamed, but she dreams so much it is enough for both of us.\n",
"I didn't realise I was different until I was in high school. Thinking back now it is strange that I never questioned why my parents retired to their room every night but I guess they wanted to shield me from the truth. It started when I wondered what people meant when they said they felt tired. Soon after this I realised I had an advantage, \"not enough hours in the day\" would never be a saying that applied to me. I could work harder and still have time to play harder than anyone, it was then I realised what my purpose in life should be....\n\nGet Money, fuck bitches!",
"It's the nights I enjoy the most. Walking down the empty streets and trails. Something is so, peaceful when near everyone's asleep. A relaxing feeling when there's nothing but crickets and frogs to speak between man's creations and the stars.\n\nI'm a Brid by the way, in case you hadn't guessed, a product of that tiny sliver of bureaucratic bickering 15 years ago, back when I was conceived. \n\nThe story is pretty simple. Gene-modding suddenly became possible, and boy was the government unprepared. Looking at me you may not even notice the difference, on the outside I'm nearly the same, save for the slightly pointy ears and the sharp canines. Some call me a Vampire, but really my name's Cassandra, insomnia extraordinaire.\n\nAs you know the government decided to ban gene-modding, but not after three weeks of it being legal. It was kind of like drones in the early 21st century, they were there for a little while before getting banned. But some people still had them from before, and by that point it was too late to take them away. Same goes for the 10,000 or so other Brids like me. The Lost Generation they call us. Of course we all know drones came back a decade or so later, and talks have started to possibly legalize hybrids again, but for now, just like the my walks in the night, I'm more or less alone.\n\nFor my walks, more or less means the animals. You'd be amazed the stuff that comes out of hiding after dark. All those little creatures that scurry into holes when somebody walks by during the day don't seem to mind who stops by after hours, well . . . at least not as much. If you sit in a dark patch for long enough you'll see them everywhere. From the squirrels and voles that scurry along through the underbrush, to the owls that drift silently through the frigid night air, to the bugs that writhe in the dirt, which rather similar to me, seem tireless.\n\nPeople have tried to explain sleep to me. But I suppose it's like explaining color to a blind man, it just doesn't click in my head. Words like rested, or sleepy, or tired, just don't really make sense. The best I've equated those three to are things like caffeinated, or hungry, or drugged out of your mind. Don't get me wrong, I understand how sleep works. The brain has to rest and heal, review all the events of the day before in order to keep functioning, but mine just doesn't work like that. The gene mods allow me to, in an incredibly simplified explanation, review and take in new information at the same time, effectively eliminating the need for the process of sleep in the first place. And it turns out if you don't need to do it, your body just decides you just can't do it at all. \n\nSo my life turned into these weird double edged sword that it is. I've almost got two lives. The one everyone knows is my normal life. I go to school, have friends, get decent grades and all that. Cassandra the Teenager. Then there's the life that fills the other one third of every day, the one that starts when everyone goes to bed and I'm left alone for eight hours. The life of Cassandra the Stargazer, the sleepless. Most people don't even know about that side, but I enjoy it all the same. After all it's my talent, what sets me apart, I suppose it comfortingly unique . . . in its own weird way.\n\nSure I've done what any logical girl would do with this supposed \"superpower\", finish extra homework, but you just can't just do that for one third of your life, so I've found other solutions to fill time. Like video games, or more often recently, walks through the night. I suppose it's almost become my equivalent of sleep. Some meditation to calm my scrambled brain after the day. Downtime. Relaxation. I'll go just to feel the cool breeze on my face, or watch the occasional car drive by, or sit in the shadow of an amber streetlamp just to hear it hum. But for as much as I understand sleep (which isn't much), the one thing I completely don't understand is dreams. \n\nThey just don't make any sense, at all, and yes I get they don't make sense to even the people that dream the dreams but . . . making characters? People you don't know and putting them and yourself into weird scenarios you come up with in your mind . . . I just can't comprehend what that'd feel like. I've been told sleeping is like being knocked out (which I've done by the way, not fun), but softer. That is reasonable I suppose, still weird to think, but the idea of these . . . visions . . . is on a whole other lever. Of course, they still fascinate me, almost as much as they scare me. I've heard stories about people's nightmares. About confronting your worst fears summoned by your own subconscious . . . or even worse, dying in your own dream. What could that possibly feel like?\n\n\"Why does everyone always seem to like their dreams when half the time their bad?\" I ponder and stand, looking up at the thousands of shimmering stars. \"Everyone seems content with them despite the fact that . . . that you know . . .\" My stomach grumbles and I clutch my gut.\n\n\"Yeah yeah, I know I know.\" I mumble into the air. Fun fact about never sleeping, you tend to need four square meals a day to keep active. All that wandering at night gets a girl hungry. \"Let's go grab our midnight snack.\" I smile and wander off into the night, heading for the warm dark windows of home."
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[WP] You're the only Roman senator who wasn't briefed on the whole 'kill Julius Caesar' thing.
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[
"Fuck the senate, with those slimy peons.. today is the day your husband will rise above all, allow me to persue a career being a politician.",
"The room that was the worst part, having to look at my precious rome rotting from the actors of this scene filled the pool.",
"WAIT! WHAT THE FUCK! HOLY SHIT!! WHAT IS GOING ON!?! DID YOU JUST SHANK THE SHIT OUT OF HIM?!! WHAT????!!!! ",
"In paucis rem publicam studium veritatis.\nIn the affairs of state few desire truth.\n\nI confess I had dunk large amounts since the previous day. I never really stopped. My excellent friend, Publius Rufus, a remarkable host, excelled himself. Little fishes brought from the east were served with an excellent wine sauce. The entertainment was exotic. I would describe it in detail but I don't wish to digress.\n\nThe day following I proceeded to the senate as Caesar was to give a speech. He was not much of an orator yet at least brief and focused. I liked that about him.\n\nI entered the main hall, still drunk and weaving under my excess. The quorum had assembled and we awaited Caesar.\n\nSeveral of the senators stood around Cassius who was showing off some new weapon he had purchased. \"Fine craftsmanship...\", he gassed on. I called over \"What need has a senator for a dagger, Cassius? Has not Ceasar provided us a great peace?\"\n\n\"Every man needs a point Fabius\", he retorted, making reference to a speech of mine where I lost my thought and was forced to take seat.\n\n\"If we are comparing points yours is the smallest I have yet seen.\", I countered with a few drunken pelvic thrusts for emphasis.\n\n\"I'm afraid mine must be the shortest\", quipped Brutus, producing a small dagger hardly bigger than a letter opener.\n\n\"The women prefer mine!\", joked Climber, unsheathing a dagger almost the size of a gladius.\n\nSeveral other senators displayed their points and it was about this time that Caesar arrived.\n\n\"What's this?\", he joked, \"an assassination?\", he mocked a defensive pose as we gathered around to greet him.\n\nCasca struck a pose with his dagger held high and Caesar responded \"oh no!\" with a frightened expression to a great roar of laughter.\n\nI was straining from laughter at this jest and I tripped and fell upon Climber who went over catching Caesar's robe as he did so. Caesar yelled through his tears of laughter \"Why, this is violence!\" and we were in paroxysms.\n\nA sort of domino effect then set upon the various senators as one fell on another and they in turn fell on poor Caesar.\n\nThere was a horrible silence broken only by a few remaining chuckles when we had seen the result. Every man stared and contemplated the future of Rome.",
"I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, thinking, *gods, did they carve these damned things out of iron?* but no such discomfort showed on my face. The Theater of Pompey was a splendid place to have a Senate meeting, with both a lavish setting and ample settings for voices to be heard, but it didn't change the fact that I loathed the chairs. But it was of little importance, Caesar was to speak (first of course, not as if we had anything important to say) and we had much and more interest in what he had to say. What justification he had for naming himself dictator for life was beyond me.\n\nThat is not to say I didn't agree with him, the Senate was full of pompous men with little and less sense than a rat. The young general who the common people adored, that was a figurehead that could be rallied behind, not the lot of rich fools who couldn't put their sandals on the right feet without a dozen slaves to assist in the task. Democracy was dry at the best of times, and republics could be just as dull, when you had to seek the votes of too many just to make an act.\n\nNo, maybe an absolute leader was a more efficient course, especially when the leader in question had a record such as Caesar's, but that didn't mean that every Senator was pleased with him. If they had the nerve for it, Caesar might just have to watch for being assassinated, but none of the Senate could stomach dirtying their hands. They would wrinkle their nose at the smell of it, but they would take their plate without complaint (except later that night when they were sure no one was listening) as they always did whenever Caesar came up with some new way to reward himself for this victory or that one.\n\nI was snapped out of my deep thought by Caesar's arrival, *about time,* I thought, *he may be dictator for life, but his reign will be pitifully short if he wastes so much time just to arrive at Senate meetings*. I rose from my painful seat to greet him, when Tillius hurried over to the entrance jabbering out some sort of petition for an exiled brother. I rolled my eyes and strode over when other Senators began to eagerly surround Caesar, to my annoyance. *You'd think he was some famous gladiator, the way they are flocking around him*.\n\nCasca pushed past me and I turned at him in irritation when to my shock I saw the gleam of a blade in his hand. I was about to reprimand the fool for bringing a dagger into the Senate, where such was strictly prohibited after some Senator or another had the misfortune of displeasing the others, and paid for it with his bowels.\n\n\"Why, this is violence!\" Caesar shouted as Cimber pulled on his toga and I inhaled sharply at the insolence of it. Caesar could have cut off the offending hand for that if he so wished, and I was confusedly wondering what could have spurred Cimber to do it. And at that moment Casca rushed forward with blade in hand, and I was too shocked to stop him.\n\nIt was only when Brutus pulled a knife from his robes that the enormity of the situation dawned on me and he plunged the blade forward.\n\n\"Oh shit,\"",
"\"More wine!\" \n\nOn the eve of my 37th birthday I felt as if Jupiter had descended and occupied my body. Things were changing with Caesar in power, with or without the approval of the senate. I, on the other hand, was ready for such change. Caesar had quickly become an enemy of the political class, the aristocrats, the oligarchs, whatever you'd like to call them... But he was a man of the people. This was his penultimate crime. Refusing to bow the ruling elite was his ultimate.\n\nAlbeit a new senator, I'd seemingly gained Caesar's trust, much to the chagrin of my fellow senators. Perhaps my background as a soldier softened him to me? Or perhaps the fact that I was one of the few and possibly only current senator to have ascended from poverty to become part of the decision-making minority? Whatever the answer, it wasn't important to me. What mattered most was Rome. Dreams of self-grandeur be damned. While I differed (vocally) with Caesar in regards to military expansion, we both had Rome at the heart of our interests. Love fed our interest. Love for a time and place that was like none other before it. \n\nThree days prior I'd heard word that a secret meeting of senators was to take place the night of my birthday celebration. However, no other senators could confirm that such a meeting would take place... In a city such as Rome, whispers of secret meetings and such is relatively commonplace. It meant nothing to me and I attributed it to rumors put in place by bored housewives or philandering civic workers. Regardless, news of such a meeting concerned me. It had been a turbulent time amongst the senate and Julius Caesar's \"insubordinate\" actions had been the catalyst for such turbulence.\n\nMy last conversation with Caesar had also been my first. While attending to various civic duties at the senate, Caesar had unexpectedly arrived. He looked his normal self. Nothing unusual. Albeit fond of the man it was in my best interest to avoid him. I knew that my fellow senators would be less than happy to hear of private discussion between the emperor and I. Nonetheless, Caesar approached me:\n\n\"Your day of birth approaches, plebian.\" How he knew this I'll never know. Caesar was constantly surprising you.\n\nCaesar smiled. He was well aware of my socio-economic background and the disdain it had brought to many fellow senators. Perhaps this alone was why he favored me.\n\n\"One day closer to death.\" I smiled back. A youthful admiration of the man had overtook prudent senatorial instinct. Caesar smiled.\n\n\"Look to the horizon and you'll always see the sun. I have plans not only for Rome but for the known world. Oligarchs have drowned the public perception of ruling-class competence for too long. All men deserve what is just, not just those privileged by birthright.\" \n\nCaesar's tone had changed. He was in another place... It wasn't so much him talking to me as it was a vocal monologue on his behalf. But that was it, Caesar awoke.\n\n\"Rome needs more men like you. Rest on your day of celebration. The fight has only begun and we will need our strength in the coming months. Your peers will make sure of that.\" Caesar clasped his hand on my shoulder for a second before moving away.\n\nIt was now the day of my celebration and I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said about the days ahead. As the celebration waged warfare on the collective sense of the party I began to feel guilty... I had neglected certain duties in preparation for the celebration. But this was why I'd chosen a villa conveniently located within walking distance of my senatorial chamber. While the celebration amplified to soft-debauchery I exited unnoticed and headed for my chamber. Wine in hand.\n\nEverything made sense in the senatorial chamber. An abundance of wine further developed such cognitive clarity. As I sat down and reviewed various neglected scrolls the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Then I heard him speak.\n\n\"I see that most of you are here, but not all of you.\"\n \nAt that moment, mayhem broke out. I heard angry men tussle and I heard a man cry out in pain. I ran down stairs and peered around the doorway: my peers in the senate were continually stabbing the emperor. Cassisus looked elated. Brutus looked conflicted. The others were simply blood drunk. As a coward would, I hid, wine in hand, and waited for them to exit. After silently staring at the body of the emperor ( what seemed lie a small eternity), Brutus left.\n\nI walked in and gazed at my emperor. His eyes were cold and hard. The turbulent days ahead had arrived whilst drunk in my chamber. A visceral sense of sorrow permeated my bones... Such was the feeling on the night my celebration. \n",
"This is IT!!!! today is gonna be MY day!!! after all these weeks working day and night to get the other senators approval, Julius Caesar himself will take my urban project into consideration.\n-Verinius, stop looking at yourself in the mirror my love. you'Re gonna be late.\n-Aconia, love of my life, today is the day your husband will rise above all, allow me to make sure everything is perfect.\n\nAll those puppets in the senate will have nothing to say once the Imperator approves it. they move around their togas and they never wore anything else. most of them bought their places in the senate. selling lands,villas, anything to get to where they are. None of them really knows what it is to be a simple plebeian. i had to fight every hour of every single day of my entire life to be where i am. XX years in the legion, V years in the urban militia. that was the worst part, having to look at my precious rome rotting from the inside. it'S populace dying from disease, hunger,... while all those pantins were playing at being important.\n\n-you know i believe in you. everyone does. today Verinius, is the first day Rome will start cleaning the filth at it's feet and it will all be because of you.\n\nI kissed her and left. I even took the time to walk through the getto, visualising all the changes i will make. WE will make.. Rome, the Imperator and me, cleaning the bathhouses, restoring the aqueducts, even getting rid of the corrupted members of the urban militia so good merchants can sell clean goods at good prices at the market. \n\nall those years, all that work... \n\nThere he is. walking to the senate, surrounded by all those sycophants.. should i get close,.. salute him personnally.. that would be impetuous probably, i don'T want him to think i'm impetuous. my time will come.. after the international affairs, he will call me to explain all the changes i will bring to our glorious Rome.\n\nme. the simple man. the one who rose through sheer will and work.\n\nthey keep surrounding him, asking for favors and the like.. more and more come towards him. i'll let them.. my time will come real soon.. it must be nervousness, or too much juice this morning. i'll go relieve myself now, before it all begins.. before they all see what it is to spend a life dedicated to rome, before they see how in the end, hard work will prevail against cheap plots and dark cunning. \n\nToday Rome will be restored. Fuck the senate, with those slimy peons.. today is My day. Through the Imperator'S will, and by his power, i will restore Rome, and it will last FOREVER!!",
"*Stubs toe on the leg of kitchen table*\n\nShit that hurt. Positivity. Remember... Positivity. If that's the worst thing that happens today, I think we'll be alright.\n\n*6 Hours Later*\n\nGod damnit.",
"(Sorry for the long prompt)\n\nI had never been much a political type but my family was powerful and rich, my father once held high rank and respect in the military and throughout Rome, thus I was thrust into a career that was expected of me even though I always wanted to own a winery in the hills living a peaceful, lazy life. Dont get me wrong, I did well in academics and had a few of my writings published, I met one of my dear friends through this, Marcus Junius Brutus Minor. Marcus was actually the one who persuaded me to persue a career being a politician. Through Marus I met the great Gaius Julius Caesar a few times, we never talked much but I thought he was a decent guy, didnt agree with all his ideas and power moves, but hey I'm not exactly one to challenge anything, I don't care enough, I just want to please my family and move towards my goal of owning a world class winery.\n\nI noticed Marcus was hanging out with Cassius and his friends alot more, I wouldnt care that much but it started effecting our close friendship. I confronted him about this and he told me it was political stuff and he knew I wouldnt be interested but he also told me he didnt want to endanger me because he still thought of me a close friend, It was pretty weird, what was the danger, but oh well as long as we're still good friends. \n\nAt the start of the year I got news the land I was interested in for my massive winery project was up for sale and I jumped on it as soon as I could. My dream was under way, I spent as much time as I could starting my business, traveling overseas making trade partners, it was great. This started to effect my senate seat, Senators were beginning to grow irritated with me not being present at events, nothing important, but they really were pushing me to invest more time or else I would be pushed out down the line. As much as I hated taking time away from my winery dream, I still wanted to make my family proud and uphold our respect and power. \n\nIt was March and the Ides to Jupiter had started, it was a happening time, ceremonies and other religious events going on. I was enjoying the city at this time, walking the streets to the Senate meeting, before I knew it I was running late. I didnt want to upset the Senators even more, they might think I was talking up my wine in the forum, had to get there quick before anyone noticed I was late. I ran as fast as I could, I had just made it to the front steps when I noticed out the corner of my eye not even Marc Antony was on time, he was just talkin it up outside with other senators, although he seemed restless and annoyed, oh well, makes me look better. They had already started as I arrived, lots of yelling and pushing, I assumed it was about some stupid land deal or something, typical annoying senators. I ran to my seat out of breath, legs exhausted, I threw my self on my seat, leaning back catching my breath, trying to relax without seeming like I had just run across the city. I hadnt even finished composing myself, while stretching my back and arms when I heard a loud screaching cry, as if I were in a warzone, I looked across the room and saw Casca weilding a knife, plunging it towards Caesar. Then all hell broke loose, senators left and right running towards the leader with daggers drawn, stabbing multiple times, it looked like the mauling of a gazelle by lions. My jaw then dropped, I saw my dear friend Marcus Brutus walk towards a dying Caesar with a bloody dagger, Cassius and company looking on longingly as if this were a carefully planned plot, he plunged the dagger into his chest, everyone ran out of the room. Only me, Cassius in the background, Marcus, and Caesar were left, Caesar whispered something to Brutus and everything went silent, Marcus then looked up at me and said \"Now you are free\". I have no idea what is going on or what the fuck he meant, I wasnt invited to any conspiracy meetings and didnt know too much about this whole political fiasco, as far as I know everyone was happy. \"Now you are free\", Did he really just kill the great Julius Caesar for me!? so I could persue my Winery dream, geez hell of a friend, but all this trouble, I noped the hell out of there and ever since I've been at my estate managing my world class winery.\n",
"I strode into room to greet my underlings and discuss matters of the state, the only one of these that mattered of course being the statue of me soon to be built. I could see it now, a 20 foot tall Caesar before the coliseum, standing regally atop a marble pedestal, greeting those wishing to watch the gladiators and... I was torn from my daydream by a sharp pain in my side, and back, and front, and other side, and everywhere else. I fell to the ground, the last thing to fill my vision being Brutus plunging a knife into my neck and my lifeblood spurting into the air and all over the other members of my senate, who all seemed to have a knife in my side. How rude, I thought, as the dark embrace of death took me.\n\nEdit, clarification: who said that one senator isn't Caesar himself?",
"> \"Alright guys, let's get this meeting started,\" I yelled walking into the capital building. Usually I would get a response, but today - - everybody seemed to talk right over me. \"Excuse me . . . gentleman . . . GENTLEMAN\"! My loud cry for attention was overlooked. I felt like nobody was listening. Could I have been exiled out of my own social life? What had I done? My mind flustered with doubtful thoughts. Well on the bright side, this isn't such a bad day. I have dinner with Caesar tonight. Best guy in the empire! And don't get me started on that special salad he makes, you'd think you died and went to the gods.\nIt seemed as though all the senators were arguing over some important guy. Who cares !? I walked over and with no hesitation declared, \"Have fun with your 'democracy' boys, I'm going to have dinner with the Emperor himself!\" The room that was once a Colosseum of shouting and howling became a room of pure silence. \n\n\"So . . . what happened next?\"\n\n\"They put me in this 'special waiting room' with you. Dinner with Caesar should be ready in no time!\"\n\n\"I've been in this 'special waiting room' for two years.\"\n\n\"I'm sure he knows. I just can't wait for the salad!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"The blood was everywhere.\n\nThere are some things that do not wash out: blood and wine.\n\nThese thick liquids tarnish the symbol of our elite so easily.\n\nWine though, you usually expect it. You usually see it cascade over the brim of the cup.\n\nBut blood, blood is unexpected. \n\nToday I did not expect it.\n\nI did not expect the screams, the shrill feeling of betrayal that reverberated off the walls of the hallowed hall.\n\nHow could this happen?\n\nHow could my patron, my pater, be struck down in an act of malice?\n\nHe was bold, yes.\n\nHe was strong, of course.\n\nBut the bigger the giant, the larger the back to be stabbed.\n\nWhen it was done, the silent chaos was filled with words of \"Libertas! Libertas!\" \n\nLike a group of rowdy young men they burst out of the Senate Hall out into the streets.\n\nOut to greet the surprised faces of the people.\n\nTheir togas still sticky with their vile act.\n\nNo free air that filled my lungs was enough.\n\nThis air was not free today.\n\nThis air was dirtied.\n\nI went for water.\n\nTo wash this foulness from my pallet.\n\nBlood though, blood from the actors of this scene filled the pool.\n\nIt spread like a cancer as I tried to wash it off.\n\nBut I could not.\n\nFor he was dead.\n\nAnd Rome bled.\n",
"I walked through the streets of my great city toward the Senate. Caesar wasn't one who was kind to people who were late to meetings. Lately, I'd been wearing his patience thin with the questions during the night. Other senators were meeting for some reason, but I had always had work to do, the city needed attention, and I had a way to give them hope.\n\nI arrived in the Senate just as Caesar was. I didn't have a lot of time to get to my position, and I couldn't allow the man to see me. I motioned to Tullius to distract the man for me. He and I had been good friends for our time in the Senate; I figured he would cover.\n\nThe men of the Senate rose as Tullius asked Ceasar to approach Climber. The two of them were moving for a greeting; there was somewhat of a power play going on right at that moment. Climber was reaching to get a better hold on Ceasar than he had on him. Ceasar wasn't the kind to stand for that; he would punish Climber.\n\nI slipped between the rows and glanced down at the waist of the man beside me. He was Cassius, a man who had long wanted Ceasar's position and rank. He had removed a dagger from his Toga. I nudged him, \"You aren't supposed to bring those into the -\"\n\nDown the stairs, Servilius pulled out a dagger of his own and stuck the leader of the Senate in the shoulder. He cried out in pain as other men moved to rush him. I stood still, awestruck at the rebellion that I was watching. The men were brutally killing him. I didn't move to stop them, they had their reasons for wanting him dead, I had mine.\n\nCeasar drew his last breath a dozen minutes later, bleeding across the Senate. Minutes later everyone reconvened to discuss the matters of the day. Cassius, who had retaken his place beside me, approached me at the end of the day.\n\n\"Sorry for the shock,\" he began, \"we wanted to invite you to the meetings, but you were always busy.\"\n\n\"It's all right,\" I replied, \"just know that if anyone asks I am telling them that I put a dagger right in his neck.\"\n\n\"His neck?\"\n\n\"I want to seem important to history you know.\""
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[WP]There are 5 known wizards in Middle Earth. Gandalf, Saruman, Radagast, and the two blue wizards who disappeared into the East never to be seen or heard from again....that is, until now.
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"Millennial had passed and the history of middle earth was now all but fantasy. The tales of Gandalf the White, Aragorn, and dear ole Frodo Baggins were all but fiction to our beliefs. This is but a tale that ended long ago, long before the writings of history came to be. A history that was to be forgotten, a history that came across a man who took it upon himself to disguise it as myth. It was all well documented however there was a small detail left out. Many know of the great deeds of Gandalf the Grey, as well as the treachery of Saruman the White, even the small tales of Radagast the brown, and of the existence of the two blue wizards of the east. However there was one left out. Before the time of man, during the wars between the Valar and Melkor, Melkor brought into existence a power even mightier than Sauron to lead his armies. He was a powerful being even feared by most of the Valar. Though like Melkor he was defeated and sentenced into a void with Melkor. The gates to this dimension grew weary over time. A very very long time. So long a time that the beings which he came to know are no more. It is now that the gates have come open, and thus through out the gates arises a new dark power. Through the gates comes forth Néarusa the Black. ",
"Then it happened. Everything the Hobbit knew flooded his mind, the world began to tremble. Lighting crushed the horizon the rain poured without mercy, head pounding the Hobbit stumbled to the ground. With all his might he pushed up and gazed with all his wonder to see it....\n\n\nStanding beyond the abyss as if it were a mountain untouched. A shimmer of red pulsed like a beating heart. Then it became clear. A statue of a man covered in chains that were heavy than his soul bore him down, a face as hard as mithril , teeth like knives and eyes that burned hot like the flames of Mordor. His stone hand reaching out for something....\n\n\nThe Hobbit then knew his life was about to change....\n\n\n",
"Once there were five known wizards in Middle Earth. Everyday since their creation in the afternoon at about 2 they would gather at the Reform Club to play Whist, and every evening at 11 one of the five wizards would keep the cards for the next day next day. \n\nIt just so happened that Radagast stuffed the cards in his beard one evening and the next day found a hole in it. The card was nowhere to be seen (nowhere in his beard). The seven wizards, for that day, gathered in a circle on five rocking chairs, were bored out of their wizardy minds. While Saruman, Radagast and Gandalf suffered from intense ennui (wizards in particular were prone to this), the two Blue Wizards, Blue one and Blue too, had a ennui-thought. \n\n\"What if the world was round?\" Blue One exclaimed, sitting upright and no longer rocking.\n\n\"wayaonabt?\" Gandalf muttered, smoking his 'pipe'.\n\n\"The world might be a sphere...\" Blue One spoke, almost frightened with his revelation, each word an emphasis, each word punctuated by a chop of his hand, \"... and middle won't be middle!\"\n\nBlue Two, taciturn as he had always been, said nothing. He was, however, visibly confused, and studied intently at spherical motion he was making with both of his hands.\n\nWhile Saruman and Radagast were somewhat taken on this idea, Gandalf held his 'pipe' over to Blue Two's still gesticulating hands, and motioned for it to be passed to Blue One.\n\n\"enoughofyourshenanigansherehavesomecra-\" \n\n\"Will you accept?\", Blue One suddenly proclaimed, suddenly leaping from sitting to standing on his rocking chair, \"I hereby wager 20,000 tolkiens with anyone who wishe that I will carry out the tour of the world in 200 years or less i.e. in 1.752e+6 hours or 1.051e+8 minutes. Will you accept?\"\n\nThe gathering was quiet for a very long while, save for Blue One's rocking chair, which creaked periodically as he balanced skilfully on. Saruman peered down apprehensively from Blue One at Radagast, Radagast peered back at Saruman with an uneasy smile. Then Saruman and Radagast both looked at Gandalf, and watched him struggling to aim his mouth at his 'pipe', which Blue Two held in his still gesticulating hands.\n\nAfter some time still, Saruman cleared his throat. He tried to speak in a long and deep voice, but his voice cracked. \n\nGiggles from all around, and Gandalf crackled.\n\n\"So be it,\" Saruman said in a second attempt, his feathers a little ruffled, \"Blue Two shall accompany your journey around the world, if it is, as you say, round.\" \n\nHere Saruman grinned at Blue Two. Taciturn as he is he stopped gesticulating spherically and, his brows disappearing into his Disappearing Hat he pointed at himself incredulously. Gandalf finally managed a suck at his 'pipe'.\n\n\"Right, off we go then!\" Blue One said, and leapt off the rocking chair. He picked Blue Two up with his Disappearing Gloves and wasted no time in getting to the double doors. Everyone yelled him goodbye, and he said in reply and a jovial laughter \"GOOD RIDDANCE!\"\n\nAnd everyone saw that they went off to the East and was never seen or heard from again.\n\n-199 years later, Third Age, Mirthlond-\n\nAs Gandalf, Sam, Frobo and Bilbo approached the dock of Mirthlond Cirdan the Shipwright hollered at them from a distance. A distraught appearance plagued his benevolent grey face, his keen-as-stars pair of eyes bulging from layers of wrinkles. \n\n\"The ship is gone!\" he cried, running with mismatched breaths until he reached Gandalf's horse, \"The ship is gone!\"\n\nGandalf dismounted his horse with haste, and the company were confused at this turn of events. \"How could the ship be gone?\" he exclaimed, furious and a little unnerved, \"Speak, man, speak!\"\n\nThe Shipwright spoke in tearful incoherence, and Gandalf had to share some of his 'pipe' with the poor man before he made any sense.\n\n\"The ship, my ship, the MaryJaneWatson, was stolen on its return from the far shore!\" \n\nGandalf was evidently the most taken aback as he had ever been, for he cursed in Elder Swear. But just then, when the company braced for his swear, Frodo spotted something faintly resembling a ship with the same name printed on the hull making port.\n\n\"Hey man, like, isn't that your, like, ship?\" and pointed at the thing. \n\n\"Why, yes, yes of course...\" Cirdan the Shipwright said. He squinted at the ship for a few moments and, beholding only a hull, promptly fainted, and remained supine on the pavement.\n\nTwo blue men leapt from the hull onto the dock. The First Blue Thing clapped his hands together and dusted at his robes, while the other gesticulated industriously as he walked down the dock with his companion as if receiving something heavy and subsequently tossing into... a furnace? \n\n\"You can stop that now, Blue Too\", said Blue One, bemused.\n\n\"Oui?\" replied Blue Too, confused as to what noise he had just made.\n\nAnd the Two Figures saw Gandalf, and Gandalf slapped himself just so he knew this could not have been the work of his 'pipe'.\n\n\"Ah, Gandalf!\" Blue One held his arms wide, and Blue Too followed, \"it's been 199 years precisely since we last saw one another, hasn't it? I think you owe us a lot of tolkiens.\"\n\nGandalf blinked, and his company was not visibly unnerved. Gandalf knew these... hijackers? \n\nAnd Gandalf, as if having made a conclusion in his mind, shut his eyes and took a long breath from his 'pipe', and he spoke in a way Frodo, Bilbo, Sam and Cirdan had never heard him or anyone speak before.\n\n\"Wirhvubinmahnigga?\", he strode forth amiably in a reciprocated outstretched arms, and clapped the Two Blues on the back. \"Where have you been all these while?\"\n\n\"Oh it's a long story in that,\" Blue One replied, a genial and smug smile on his face, \"like, so long it'll take at least another Writing Prompt.\"\n\n\"Or eight movies,\" said Blue Too simply, and his Disappearing Hat promptly disappeared.",
"The Blue Wizard was known by the far ones of the East as Alatar. He was loyal to Sauron, as Saruman was. His brother he had lost to the Great Eastern ocean; not even he had known his location. He came with legions of countless men, who were not Easterling nor Haradrim. They were all short and stout, with straight, black hair, with each man holding it in one knot, and black, folded eyes, and swarthy skin. Their ways were strange, and their language unknown by all but themselves and the Wizard. They worshipped him as a God, and each man was prepared to die for him. \n\nTheir march had lasted for over a year, and countless men had died, with their ranks always replaced. Finally, the massive force had crossed from the roads of Near Harad into Middle Earth. The Wizard's goal was simple, the job itself the work of years of logistics: Aid the armies sieging Minas Tirith. With his aid, surely they would take the capital of the free peoples, and they would undoubtedly falter before Sauron.",
"Once more, Alexander ‘Aleiron’ Cakes (his surname was not common knowledge, he’d never live it down. The nickname, he had chosen for himself as a boy – everyone else thought that it sounded stupid, but he still liked it) had barely gotten himself out of a nice steaming pile of drek. Milk run indeed, this one had been! He disliked droids, and he hated ghouls; but, as he had discovered with some surprise, there was a special place in his heart for kooky cults of droid-worshipping ghoul riggers – the place being, of course, a box filled with razors and nanites and labelled ‘free to a bad volcano’. \n\nWhy Pallando Security (a recently-founded, smallish corporation specializing in cleaning undead infestations) had even hired him, this he could not begin to guess. Sure, against all expectations he had managed to survive in the shadowrunning business for a few years by now, and he had even gotten himself a modest reputation, but his best weapons had always been his easy smile and his unassuming, reassuringly dishevelled look – neither of which was of much use against ghouls or droids. Yeah, his magical senses had been useful to pinpoint the location of the staff; but plenty of other arcanists could have done as much – heck, that thing was humming with so much power that even your typical run-of-the-mill thug with the mystical attunement of the average potato could have felt it from a mile away after the containment field around the complex had been deactivated. \n\nNo surprise then that just after he had gotten away from the droids and the ghouls, he had been jumped by the most holy order of the eternal whatever it was – buncha dudes who liked wearing sheets and using the verb ‘rue’ unironically, anyway. Oh, and summoning demons, of course, they loved that. They had almost got him; thankfully, as they had discovered, eldridtch horrors from the multiverse’s moldiest underpants tend to default to ‘kill everyone’ mode if not kept under strict control, and one’s face being on fire is not especially conductive to mental discipline. \n\nAlso, ranting about the ‘absolute power’ that one would get by taking a staff from the cooling body of the arcanist that one is busily trying to murder was not as excellent an idea as some might think.\n\nStill, it had been close: the staff was crazy powerful, that was for sure, but he had never been very keen on the ‘blast everything in sight’ school of spellcasting. Which, as an aside, was the only reason why he was keeping his word and bringing the staff back to his employer: that thing was powerful, but it was pretty much a big ‘immense magical power here, kill this chump and it’s all yours!’ sign to anyone with even a smidgen of magical talent. Not his thing, really. Honestly, judging by the noises the only reason why no one else had caught up with him yet was that they were busily killing each other to get at him – not that he was complaining, of course. Still, best not to tarry. \n\nThe rendezvous point was finally at hand; and, thankfully, the Johnson was already there – a broad-shouldered, squat, elderly woman with a noticeable moustache and the ugliest, dirtiest hat that Alexander had ever seen. \n\nAlexander was in no mood for conversation. “Your staff. My money?”\n\nThe woman smiled. “Your money, my boy, and more. I am Minerva Pallando, CEO and founder of Pallando Security; and you, Mr Cakes, are about to go on an adventure!”\n",
"The trouble with wizards is that they meddle.\n\nIt is a part of being a 'wise' person, the root of the term 'wizard'.\n\nWould a carpenter be expected to not use his skills?\nWould a bard be expected to be tonedeaf?\n\nSuch is a wizard. They have great wisdom, and spread it across the world, like redcurrant jam. Only a bit more red, as wizards, kindly as they are, tend to create a lot of chaos. And chaos means death, usually.\n\nOf Saruman can be attributed the invention of 'Black Powder', 'Mortar', and 'Dynamite'. Such has changed combat to one not of mettle versus metal, but of how much explosives one can hide in an area before the battle. The Mines of Moria, now a wound on the world itself, was the location of one attempt to turn a mine into a minefield, where the crop was the corpses of any who dared venture within.\n\nOf Gandalf, or Mithrandir in the Elvish tongue, not much else needs to be said. It was due to his actions that Laketown suffered a dragon attack at the time it did, and much of the Sauron business was due, indirectly, to his actions spurring the Fallen Enemy to rise anew as an eye.\n\nBut of the other wizards... Not much was known. Until they came back.\n\nWith cantrips, rituals and spells galore, these wizards used a more simplified form of magic, that could, seemingly, be taught.\n\nThe elder one, Elminster, wore a short sleeved blue shirt bearing the letters 'D R A G O N C O N 1 9 8 9' and blue trousers of a coarse material. Were it not for his goatee and magic wand, Elminster could be mistaken for a young scholar, but for his piercing eyes and tendency to mutter 'roll initiative' quietly at the start of combat. Elminster acted like a fool, almost like a blue-garbed mirror of Gandalf on a good day, but behind hos shenanigans with *Prestidigitation* there was always a greater plan.\n\nHis companion, an elderly man with a gigantic collar, was named Mordenkainen. Of Mordenkainen it could be said that he was a ruthless negotiator and a cunning researcher.\n\nThey resurrected Sauron, and reformed the Ring, albeit modified.\n\nThe reasons why, are as of yet, unknown, but shortly after they chucked the ring back in the volcano, and the eye vanished again. \n\nThen they found an Apocalypse Stone, the one for Middle Earth. They left the world again, heading East to unknown lands.",
"When people heard that the blue wizards would return they were excited. Why wouldn't they be? There were new tales to hear and new perspective to gain. There was no way they could have expected what came next. \n\nOne had been killed in a battle against the forces of Sauron, he got the better deal of the two. The other, well people thought he had been tortured to madness. He carried with him an ancient text thought to be a relic of Sauron's. One of the elves tried to read it and was sent instantly into a catatonic madness. Truly this is what caused such a delirium in the wizard. All of the Kingdoms of Middle earth mourned for Abdul Alhazred as he merely cackled out one phrase ceaselessly, \"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!\"",
"The young hobbit knew he had made a mistake coming to the mountains. He knew he shouldn't have listened to the old tales and should never ever have read the words on the old map. The sky gave an almighty crack as a huge object crashed on top of him. The object's little wooden legs ran in the air aimlessly as the young Hobbit fought to free himself. Rincewind looked around him and sighed. This definitely wasn't Ankh-Morpork."
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[WP] The dictator lies dead on the floor. You have a gun in your hand. You hear people coming. You don't know how you got here.
| 7
|
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"There was a familiar spot in my mind blank and empty, a bullet-shaped hole where the answers should be. Call it denial. I wanted to dig inside my skull and find the answers. It didn't matter either way, I don't remember ever learning how to use a gun, but there is a dead man on the ground and a gun in my hand. I don't remember waking up that morning but I was standing somewhere I shouldn't be and the bullet holes in the door leading into the room seemed to spell the story out for me. Things made sense very quickly, the man on the ground needed to die, and so would everyone who got in my way.\n\nFootsteps were audible from behind the door, fast, heavy, alot of them. They were here to kill me, I had killed this man so it was an eye for an eye, it was fair in some sense.\n\n*But I don't want to die*\n\nI didn't have to think twice, for some reason I felt my life was more valuable than theirs, and because of that, they died and not me. It was a simple process, and there isn't a whole lot of thought to it. If you've ever fired a gun it's just like the cap guns when you were younger, that little *pop* and a burst of smoke, someone playfully drops to the ground clutching their chest, laughing at the silly little game. Except now, it's a big *pop* and not a burst of smoke but of metal, people don't playfully drop to the ground, they scream and clutch whatever blood is playing a twisted game of hide and seek from their body. \nFive *pops*, five bleeding men. \n\nThings became dull, it was like thinking about it suddenly didn't matter, just knowing that I was alive was important.\n\nSome of them moaned on the ground, reaching for their guns, precious inches from their trembling fingertips. \n*pop*\n*pop*\n*pop*\nLike little porcelain soldiers you might play with as a child, they tried to enforce their dead lords will. They serve no purpose, just to live out some life to the end of some finite and numbered chalk line. Marked in the beginning with stamps of feet and a toe tag at the end.\n\nI had faith in my will to live, they had faith in their holsters. I stepped over the bodies, 6 porcelain soldiers, and walking down the hallway meant playtime with more.\n\nSo I walked down the hallway.\n\nTurn left\n*pop*\nTurn right\n*pop*\nTurn left again\n*pop*\n\nIt was the real life version of the original *Wolfenstein* except the Nazis wore suits and not swastikas, a Hi-Def remake with *all* the hallmarks of a shitty Hollywood script. More hallways, more dead men. I might have been shot once or twice but that was irrelevant to the situation, The more suits they threw at me, the more that died. \"*Confidence was key*\" Mamma might have always said.\n\n*pop*\n*pop*\n*pop*\n\nLonger hallways, more turns, and finally doors. Big double doors, the kind that a grand exit is made for. I might have laughed at the time but I didn't remember to, something else I'd have to try and remember. \n\nCars could be heard screeching outside, people in a hurry, screams and languages I didn't know. It wasn't fucking English that's for sure. So I made my grand exit, a swift kick to the doors and I opened fire, the hail mary answer to a hail mary plan, zips and tings laid the drumbeat for death around. \n\nI could feel the blood draining from me, like a clock ticking, little bites and tickles where the bullets had cleared away the skin. Like absolvement of my crimes, I had done the deed and the story was complete. It was curtain call, time to fade to black, there would be no encore. \n\n*Except I didn't want to die*\n\nI stepped forward towards them, I would write this script.",
"I swivel my hand holding the gun to the side, letting me see humans worst creation. I somehow get my eyes to turn back to the man on the floor. All though i don't feel any pity for *that* man, i do feel bad that someone lost their life. It's more of a personal thing. The guards were getting closer, well that's what i assumed they were. I have zero memories of what had happened before this, all i know- *literally* -is that i just killed the modern day equivalent of Hitler. I run for the desk at the back of the oval like office area, and duck behind it, hoping it will shield me from any gunfire that may come my way. I'm positioned so that I'm on the left side of the desk, in-back of some cabinets, gun drawn.\n\nThey burst through the room, yelling words i don't understand, pointing their guns all around the room. They all wear black suits, shades, and a pistol. Before i knew it i was getting up, turning my Gloc 9 toward the farthest of the 5 men who have rudely barged in.\n\n*Pop*\n\nTurn, point, shoot\n\n*pop*\n\nRinse and repeat as needed.\n\nThe room was deadly silent. Since when did i know how to shoot a gun? Once again, my memories fail me. Six men all lay silent on the ground, in various strange positions. Without even thinking I've collected their guns, ammo and headed out the door. Turning left, not even checking to see if someone was coming. I walked down the hall as if I owned it, strides long and arms swinging. Since when did I have the composure to walk down a hall, possibly filled with armed men, so nonchalantly. \n\nThe walls seemed to be modeled after Roman or Greek architecture, white pillars seemingly everywhere. The carpet was a pattern of strange yellows and greens, making it seem extremely luxurious. \n\n*pop*\n\nMy arm is in-front of me, gun in hand, aimed at a now lifeless corpse. The corpse falls to the ground, landing with a *thump*. I gotta get outta here, i think to myself. My once nonchalant aura is suddenly broken, i break out into a full on sprint, passing branches and rooms. I hear multiple men chasing after me, some yelling words i still don't quite understand. For all I knew it was Russian, maybe even French! I'll never know, because I'm running down the front steps. The building I was in seemed massive in scale, a dome at the very top, sitting on top of a rectangular building. The whole thing was white, even the fountain near by in the middle of the field. I run onto a concrete courtyard, with a tiled design, large tiles I may add. \n\n*pop pop pop*\n\nI look up ahead in my distress, and see a few motorcycles in a semi circle , aiming behind me with various different weapons. I look behind me and see that my pursuers are, no longer pursuing! I decide that they are most likely here to help, as my last encounter with other people were shooting at *me*.\n\n\"Come on, Come on!\" one of the riders was yelling, still a good sprint away. I pick up my speed, throwing my weapon to the side, letting it land with a *Klang*. I bow my head, leaning forward. That's when I see my clothes, a stylish sweatshirt and cargo pants, both as white as can be. Right next to my foot i see a chunk of concrete pop off. That's when my ears register the sound of the gunshot from behind me.\n\nTwo more shots fly past me before the fourth one lands in my left upper-arm area, just below my shoulder. I feel it fly right through the fat of my arm, missing my bone and major artery. Still, it sent a spike of both adrenaline and pain coursing through me. I stumble for a second, but regain my elegant grace.\n\nCome on, Come on!! i yell inside my head, pushing my self to get to my presumed friends. That's when I suddenly reach them, jumping on the back of a white sports bike, labeled *Ninja* on its side. I grip the drivers shoulders, not even looking at him. I turn my head to look back the building i had just been in, realizing the immense scale of it. And that's when I feel all my memories come flooding back, realizing I had just killed the President of the United States.\n\n**So, i just wrote that whole story, completely confusing the *white house* with *Capitol hill*, so yeah, i guess i switched them, oops. hehe**"
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[WP] Write a short story where the first and last sentence is "It's not your fault".
| 25
|
[
"I replay the scene in my head every day.\n\nWhat was I supposed to do? What could I have done? Why didn't I do this, why didn't I do that? I interrogate my conscious every day, slowly picking apart my persona until my sanity is on the brink.\n\nI see him every day.\n\nWatching me. \n\nHe stares at me, his wide eyes pleading. Begging.\n\nBut *why*? \n\nI close my eyes, I try to wish him away, but he still remains, silently chastising me with his solemn, forlorn gaze. \n\nI want him to tell me what I tell myself every day.\n\n*\"It's not your fault.\"*",
"\"It's not your fault\", whispered Martha to her six year old unconscious son. The hum of his life support machine filled the silence. The white, tiled walls of the hospital providing a stark contrast to his small, bloodied body.\n\n\"I knew when you ripped the arms off of all those old ladies in the nursing home that you didn't mean it.\" \n\n\"It was the small gnome that climbed into your ear and took over your body, honey.\"\n\n\"... it's not your fault...\"",
"“Of course it’s not your fault, how could you have known he would get hit?” Malcom asked.\n\nI just looked at him knowing what he would say next.\n\n“Oh that’s right you did know, after all you wouldn’t be psychic with knowledge of the future. Shame you dont try harder to stop these things.”\n\nI put down my PB&J and glared at him, ready to smash his grinning face to pieces.\n\n“I never asked to know what happens next, and I sure as hell didn’t ask for my intuition to be a real person. I probably need psychiatric help.” I said\n\nHe grinned and handed me the bong.\n \n“Your intuition? That's what you're calling me these days? If you are really that serious about getting rid of me we’ll schedule an appointment at the loony bin tomorrow. See how well you do without me” he said, still offering me that stupid grin.\n\nI finished up my sandwich and went back to bed. The next day I went to see Dr. Marleen Cambell the only psychiatrist in the state that took my insurance.\n\n“How are we today Sam?” she asked me.\nI could hardly hear her over the blood rushing to my ears. She was pretty, and as she leaned back I could see her relaxed personality.\n\nI knew she would go out for a drink with me if I asked properly, and I hadn’t been with a woman for months. \n\n“I’ve been seeing someone,” I said,” he isn’t really there but he is real all the same. He knows things that are going to happen.”\n\nShe looked at my file briefly and returned her gaze to me.\n“Sam I see here you are paranoid schizophrenic, have you been taking your medication?” she asked.\n\n“Yes, and he went away for a few months, but now he’s back. He says he’s 'adapted' to them” I said, knowing how crazy I sounded but still unable to stop myself. I needed help badly and right now this woman was the closest I would get.\n\n“What’s his name?” she said, “Is he here now?”\nI looked at Malcom, who had draped himself on one of the comfortable armchairs and was playing a game on his phone.\n“His name is Malcom” I said kicking myself mentally for being so weak in his presence.\nShe looked at me solemnly, the way people do when they are about to give advice.\n\n“I’ll give you a higher dosage this time” she said “but you have to want him to be gone to get rid of him. You must ignore him completely until you realize he isn’t there.”\n\nMalcom snickered, before putting his phone away. We all stood up and as I was turning to ask her out when he grabbed my arm.\n\n“No sense asking a dead woman out. Shame a pretty thing like her has to die in the can,” he said, before letting go of my arm and strolling out the door.\n\nI looked at Marleen dreading what I had to say next.\n\n“Doctor?” I said.\n\n“Yes Sam?”\n\n“Be careful in the bathroom” I replied before following Malcom.\n\nI went to the receptionist to schedule my follow-up and drove home.\n\nTwo days later I got a voicemail from her office canceling all future appointments.\n\nMalcom was standing in the kitchen chugging a soda when the machine told us she had an accident getting ready for a date.\n\nI slowly looked up at him, my heart sinking into my stomach and dread creeping its way down my back.\n\nHis gaze was completely unapologetic. \n“Of course it’s not your fault. How could you have known?”\n",
"It's NOT your fault she died. I protested that I was to blame simply with \" Well, it's not YOUR fault\".\n",
"“It's not your fault. There was nothing you could do. Can you tell us what happened?” Jack had been playing a game with his sister and was hiding in the dirty laundry basket when the back door burst open in front of him. He had been too scared to move or scream as the three men with black ski masks ran past him, shouting and waving their guns. As he hid, he heard them gather the rest of his family into a room nearby. From there Jack could hear the sounds of his mother and sister crying as his father begged the men “to take whatever you want, just please don't hurt my family”. The men had gotten angrier and angrier as they searched the house but didn't find anything worth anything. They assumed that his father must have been hiding it somewhere, keeping it from them. They then started to threaten his father, but he could only beg the men to spare them. The first shot rang throughout the house. There was a moment of silence before the sound of his mother's scream pierced the air. Her screams were quickly cut short as another shot rang out. The men asked one last time where the money was but his father just sobbed. The final shot brought deafening silence to the whole house. Jack watched as the men left the house, leaving the same way they had come. It took him what seemed like hours to get out of the basket. He had stumbled to the living room. He didn't know how long he stood there in the door way but eventually new men arrived saying: “It's not your fault.”",
"'It's not your fault' i told myself as i heard his drunken footsteps stumble upstairs, I knew it was a matter of time before he was at hand of the locked door.\n\nSince my mum had past away he had developed a bad drinking habit to deal with the grieving, but after a fee drinks he was a changed man.\n\nHe made it to my door and was begging me to open it i knew this time he would hurt me. My heart was racing as i heard the police siren in the distance, he heard it too and it only encouraged him. The banging and shouthing got worse, I could only hope they arrived in time.\n\nI watched in horror as the door started to give way, he came charging at me spouting hateful comments in my direction. I could only remind myself as i shut my eyes and tears slowly rolled down my face, 'its not your fault'.",
"\"It's not your fault.\" bee said to me as I stare at the now lifeless body.\n\n\"I agree.\" I said to her.\n\nI walked to the sink and washed the bloody knife in no time. \"How do we even dispose of body?\" I asked. \"I have no idea straub.\" bee answered. Then she told me that most killers dispose the body in the dumpster. \"You clean up the blood and I will dump the body okay?\" I asked.\n\n\"Okay.\" she answered. As I dumped the body, I repeated in my head the last words he said to me, \"It's not your fault...\" ",
"It's not your fault.\n\nYou did everything right. You were a gentleman. You treated her like a person, not an object. You wore the right clothes, told the right jokes, knew the right people, made the right moves, did everything right. You played it cool not clingy. Let her come to you. Let her cum with you.\n\nIt is your fault\n\nWhere did you go wrong? Why aren't you good enough? You let down your guard. Too soon. You weren't ready, she wasn't ready. Why did you go over that night? You knew it was just sex. Why did you go over? You should have waited. You always mess it up. You let yourself get used. Or were you trying to use her?\n\nYou can do better.\n\nShe wasn't that cute. Wasn't that nice. She smoked. She was too fat. She wasn't smart enough. There are so many better girls. Please, this is DC, girls like her are a dime a dozen. She was perfect. Stop lying to yourself. No. Lying makes it hurt less.\n\nIt's not your fault.",
"\"It's not your fault,\" the voice boomed over the intercom. \"Step down from the platform carefully.\"\n\n*Like I believe you. Of course it's my fault. I was the one who ran away.*\n\nA burst of static, and then the message repeated. \"It's not your fault. Step down from the platform carefully.\" My legs trembled underneath me. I knew they were getting weak. I had been there for hours listening to the same message.\n\n*Ten, nine...*\n\nI began to count down in my head, to count down how long I thought I needed before I jumped.\n\n\"It's not your fault. Step down from the platform carefully.\"\n\nHow had it come to this?\n\n*Eight...*\n\nI had been raised to be a genius. My parents fed me all the \"right things,\" read me all the \"right things,\" and when I was old enough to attend school, they were sure my teachers would see my intelligence. When I was eight years old, I was transferred to a different school. My parents disagreed with my teachers' decision that I was, not only not-a-genius, but also a special needs child.\n\n*Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Okay. Seven.*\n\nIn elementary school, I stuck my tongue to a frozen bicycle rack. Seven times. My parents insisted that I had simply tried to express my genius in a way that was socially inappropriate, as geniuses are wont to do.\n\n*Six...*\n\nI went through six schools before my parents settled on one which separated children based on their levels of knowledge and learning rather than age. I don't know how they came to terms with my classmates all having severe disabilities of one kind or another.\n\nA gust of wind blew me forward, and I nearly lost my balance.\n\n*Five. Five. Five. Five. Five.*\n\nI love fives. I love when things line up in fives, or when I get to repeat things five times. My favorite thing about my alternative middle school was being on a basketball team, where we were a group of five. I'm sure it wasn't serious, or at least we didn't play any \"real\" games, but I loved the groups of fives. I also got to wear the number five on my shirt, after I traded with someone who loved sixteens just as much. It was fives as far as my eyes could see.\n\n*Four, three...*\n\nIt took me three years to move on from being part of the sixth grade. I guess I just had a really hard time with the lessons. My parents grew frustrated during those years. I was never sure if they were mad at me, or each other, but I figured it was probably something I did.\n\n*Two.*\n\nTwo days ago, I decided to run away from them. If I was gone, I thought, maybe they would be happier. \n\nWhen I left this morning, I didn't make it very far, and I wasn't well-prepared. They had me cornered, but after exhausting themselves screaming for me to climb back down from the platform, they decided to record this message instead.\n\n\"It's not your fault,\" it started. \"Step down from the platform carefully.\" They were always so concerned about being careful, about how fragile I looked with my thin limbs.\n\n*One.*\n\nOne more deep breath. One more glance behind me.\n\nI gasp. My parents have stopped focusing on me, and are now physically fighting each other. My mother wrapped around my father like a snake, pulling out his hair. My father, punching my mother's face as best as he can while they both scream.\n\nIt's my fault. It was always my fault. One step forward into nothingness.\n\n\"It's not your fault.\"",
"It's not your fault. My beautiful wife said to me as my dick went limp inside of her. We've been trying for a long time to have a child, but it just wasn't working. We were both so sad and torn up about it. \n\nShe actually became pregnant a few times but each time the pregnancy self-terminated. I was concerned this was due to my wife's unfortunate past as a methamphetamine addict. Before we started dating she was that pocked mark lady that sucked cock for drugs, that school kids would laugh at. But I saw through all of that. I saw the real her. An intelligent, deep, warm, women with empathy unmatched by any person. \n\nI took care of her as she withdrew from the methamphetamine, and now it was time for me to take care of her again. We were at the fertility clinic, the doctor told her that the methamphetamine rotted out her uterus, nothing would live in there, it was an apocalypse nuked by methamphetamine, absolutely destroyed. He said he had never seen a uterus so messed up. I told her, It's not your fault."
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[WP] Whenever you blink, you take a "screenshot" of what you can currently see. The afterlife is simply a photo album containing every "screenshot" you've ever taken.
| 25
|
[
"There was almost five hundred million stills from my life. The first few were of my parents looking proudly at me. Apparently blinking was a fun thing for me to do when I was younger, because they're so close set that moving through them quickly is like one of those old films with no sound. I keep on scrolling through them until I reach a milestone. My first birthday. Kids running around happy looking parents. The cake looked really tasty. Another long scroll through the stills and another milestone. My first day of school. A lot of the kids looked scared, I was no different. In the reflection of the glass door my face was gave away that I was a little upset.\n\nI saw a search bar in the corner of my eye. I put in the names of the people I remembered fondly. Mom, dad, my brother and sister. Each one of them was tagged and it was fun watching them grow up again. I looked up events in the search bar; vacations, school days, days at work. I spent a lot of time doodling. \n\nI look up heart breaks. The album is larger than I thought it would be. A lot of the stills are out of focus, I was definitely crying in a lot of these. Girls I loved over the years, the memories are flooding in. Some of the pictures when I get older have little sound bits. I threw around the word love a lot.\n\nI look up the terms 'happy' and 'milestone' as the last album. The first picture is the first time I saw her. Autumn leaves on the ground and she was wearing a light black jacket. Blue jeans hugging her tightly and boots laced up tight. She loved those boots. The first time we kissed. The first time we said 'I love you.' The first time we fought. The day we got married. Our son being born, and then our daughter a few scrolls later. All of us growing older. And finally a blank white screen. I swipe, and she's on the right side of the frame looking down at me. I swipe again and my son and his wife enter the frame. Another swipe, my daughter and her wife as well. Then my grandchildren enter the frame. They each leave one by one until its only her. She's crying but trying to smile. My hand brushes those tears away. I can tell we're both wrinkly and old and the last still is us kissing, the our voices in unison, \"I love you.\"\n",
"\"This is supposed to an album of my life?\" I asked, flipping through the pages. \"Why are they all just black?\"\n\nThe angel shook his head. \"Timing issues\" he said. \"Some bonehead set the capture -On Blink- instead of -After Blink-. We had a hardware patch ready but they'd already put y'all into mass production.\""
] |
[
14,
23
] |
[
"1448129771",
"1448123567"
] |
|
[WP] You live a terrible life, suffering from depression. However, the only thing keeping you going are your lucid dreams where you control what happens.
| 6
|
[
"When reading the story I was convinced the character was going to be someone like a janitor, or a cubicle monkey (your inspiration possibly?) but never the ceo. This is surely due to how well written this piece is, and how you built on the stereotypes of depression. Your narrative serves as a good reminder that depression doesn't discriminate based on position, wealth, gender, or any other factor we as humans have chosen to use to segregate, and elevate our status' above our peers. Just to wrap a question in here, what was your motivation for this piece? ",
"My phone is telling me it's 8:00 AM. It does so by squealing the same tone enthusiastically and without remorse. My phone is very good at it's job. Sitting up, I swipe at the screen and silence the alarm. I close my eyes and try to lock in the memory of last night's dream.\n\nI'm fairly certain that I was some sort of creature in the forest. I remember jumping and swinging through the trees. It's so hard to remember. The details begin to slip away from me as wakefullness purges my brain of the fantastic, making room for reality. Damn. Lost another one. Maybe.\n\nI shit, I shower, I shave. My keys are on the bedside table, next to my phone and wallet. Boxers, slacks, undershirt, dress shirt, tie. Pocket my phone and wallet, grab my keys. A monkey, holy shit. I was a goddamn monkey swinging through the trees. Some details came back to me, I remember the soft, warm glow of the sunlight coming through the canopy. I remember the warmth on my monkey face. I smile.\n\nI drive to work. The radio is shit this morning. Never any good news. The office looms before me. It consumes more of the skyline with each passing mile. I seem to remember a memo about corporate pricks coming in today. Fuck those guys. I light a cigarette and take a deep drag. There were other monkeys... Yeah I remember those goobers with me up there in that grand old forest. We had a fuckin time swingin' through those trees.\n\nParking spot. Swipe Card. Green light. Enter hell through the front gates. Diane is talking on her fucking bluetooth. She flashes me a look and pretends to be very, very busy. Her keyboard goes clickity clack. I hate her nasal voice. I think we could find a better receptionist. I hurry to the elevator. I look for a button that will take me up into the canopy. There isn't one. I press the button for floor ten instead.\n\nBlessed solitude in this little box. Maybe if I'm lucky the cable will snap and take me to the basement in the express lane. God damn, to be so lucky. The doors open on the tenth floor and I'm greeted by ringing phones and the indistinguishable hum of thirty people talking in cubicles. I remember swinging so hard on a branch I broke through the canopy. I remember I decided it was time to fly. My monkey arms turned into bird wings. Man that had been awesome.\n\nI walk to the back end of the floor. A little name plaque on a door says 'Dave Corning, CEO'. Open door, enter room, close door, sit at my desk. Another day in the life. I close the blinds. I close my eyes. What kind of bird had I been? Bird-of-fuckin-paradise, man. The monkeys in the trees below had all jumped up through the canopy. I'll be damned if they hadn't followed my lead and turned into birds.\n\nThe phone rings. It's Jim. He's incompetent. I solve his problem in marketing and hang up. Line two is beeping. It's Carla. She's hot. She thinks I'm incompetent. I tell her who to call to solve her problem. She thinks I'm blowing her off. I am. I look at the picture on my desk of my ex-wife and two kids. Alimony's a bitch. So is she. Maybe she'll let me see them on Christmas. Maybe she'll fuck me over again. Maybe I need a new lawyer. Me and my bird buddies had a fine time last night. If we weren't soaring then I don't know what soaring is.\n"
] |
[
1,
3
] |
[
"1448296365",
"1448293354"
] |
|
[WP] A Hero on the brink of fulfilling their quest slowly realises that they are actually the villain.
| 11
|
[
"All I wanted was to take care of my son.\n\nI was born on the planet Zareoth, a place where technological advancements had been both triumph and disaster. Growing up I lived in Zareoth biggest city, Trangor. There I lived as any other Zareothian and participated in school where I excelled in robotics engineering and clone reconstruction. Once I finished school I was allowed to venture to a foreign planet named Rengarius. There I continued my research and grew in the knowledge of my specialty. Everything was splendid and I was content in the path my life was going. Then I saw her.\n\nThe most beautiful creature in the universe. Not to be cliché, but it was love at first sight. Her name was Rachel and after dating for 4 months (604 years \"Earth time\") we were married and she was pregnant.\n\nThings settled down between Rachel, Thomas, and I. We moved back to my home planet and it seemed that I was destined to live the life that had been planned for me. I was making breakthroughs in a new hobby of research. Teleportation was the new \"thing\" and in my off time I tried to make breakthroughs in inter-universal teleportation. I always felt like I was so close to figuring it out, but was one step behind the ever-changing ebbs and flows of the universe. Then the Black Sun occurred. \n\nThe Black Sun is a once in 400,000 year occurrence that is similar to an eclipse. Some people on Zareoth decided to flee to neighboring planets in the fear that the Black Sun would somehow cause an ice-age, but my colleagues all convinced me to stay. Staying wasn't that hard of a decision honestly, I was addicted to my work and hobby and didn't want to put my beautiful wife and 3 year old son traveling to avoid a silly eclipse.\n\nWhen the Black Sun hit, everything went dark. Since this was the first recorded black sun (our society dates back to 10,000), no one knew what to expect. \n\nOur society became so accustomed to clones and robots that they were viewed as individuals. This led to the overlooking of the fact that they are controlled by data via The Quantaceptor, which is basically the fancy name for a solar powered satellite. When The Quantaceptor lost power, the feed to the robots and clones was severed and these machines were acting on free will. \n\nSince my job was to know these machines, I knew we were in deep shit.\n\nI immediately run to our ship garage and prepare for evacuation to Tandione, the closest planet. From there we could hop planets and avoid the Black Sun until The Quantaceptor was back online. As I run into the garage and start up the ship, two clones approach my house. I recognized both because I had dismantled them and rebuilt them when I was a student. The one on the left was titled Tom341 and the one on the right was titled Claire51223. \n\n\"Stop where you are going sir\" they yell at me as I run to my ships control panel. At this point I am genuinely afraid. I placed the 435CannonBlasters in the arms of the clones, and installed their targeting system. In other words I knew I was good at what I did and was screwed.\n\nOnce I reached the control panel I set the destination and call for my family to join me. Rachel is carrying Thomas. \"Everything is going to be okay. We are going to survive\" I keep saying over and over again. They make it into the garage. \"Hurry! We are going to be fine\" I yell out. As they are feet from entering the ship Claire51223 targets Rachel. It was over in a flash. Right before my eyes Rachel is vaporized and Thomas is laying on the ground crying.\n\nI grab my blaster, and in a last ditch effort I try and scoop up Thomas. As I reach down to grab him Tom341 locks his aim. Oh shit, we are screwed. \n\nLucky for me I wasn't as good of a student as I thought I was. The blaster shot screams over my head and makes contact with my inter-universal teleportation device. All of the sudden it screams to full life.\n\nTime slowed down and a million thoughts rushed through my mind at once. How did this start working? Is it safe? What are my options? In my period of fight of flight I make eye contact with Claire51223 and know that she is locking in. I make the decision to run and jump with Thomas into the portal.\n\nWe come out in the middle of a street filled with people on a planet that I had never researched. Yellow cars that use wheels for navigation. Big screens on the sides of buildings. People rushing and yelling. It was bothersome but at the same time incredible. This race was nowhere near the technological level that I was, yet they seemed so immersed in the world around them. Not going to lie, I was just as dumbfounded as the few people taking pictures, who had obviously been seeing the spectacle for the first time as I was.\n\n\"We're safe\" I whisper to my son, and begin to try and map out my next course of action. Then out of no where bright flashing light start to appear all around me. The teleporter was still online and the robots and clones were coming to the planet I was currently on. The unleash of the Black Sun event from trillions of lightyears away was now being transported to this planet. \n\nSuddenly I get a flashback of Rachel being vaporized and then look down at my son and realize that I truly am the villain.",
"I am so glad I found you again. We are the only ones left in this city, I think. I don't know how much you know about what is going on but, as far as I can tell, it started a week ago, about the time I first met you. It was gradually getting darker every day since then until ash started falling from the sky like snow. That was the day the monsters appeared. I was at work when someone knocked on my office door. I expected it to be somebody with a computer issue but when he opened the door and I saw his face, an unknow terror crept over me. There was no hesitation - this creature was dangerous. It looked almost like a human but the horrible facial features and bony extrusions were nothing like I had ever seen on a creature. I took a step back, planning my actions, the creature walked slowly in my direction, making terrifying sounds unlike anything I have ever heard. I grabbed a camera tripod, the first thing I could find, and charged at the thing. I landed a solid blow on it's head and it fell, whimpering in a fetal position. I couldn't take any chances and I kept on beating it until it stopped moving.\n\nThat was the first time I encountered the creatures. I have killed many since and there seems to be no end to them. I always try to avoid combat whenever I can though, I prefer sneaking past them, sometimes it feels like they don't even notice me and now that I think of it, it has never been difficult to kill them either. I sometimes even feel sad for them, they act so much like humans, it seems like they are mimicking human lives, going to work, socializing and even doing the shopping.\n\nI don't know what happened to everyone, whether they were transformed into these creatures or the creatures killed the humans and are trying to take their places. I have been hiding for a week and I was starting to question myself. What if I was the one that has changed? But then I saw you. I know you can't talk but I hope that you at least understand what I am saying. I really appreciate the company even if you don't respond, although moving around with you has proven more problematic than I had thought it would. This never happened when I was alone. With you the monsters seem to be agitated even at the slightest vision of us. At least they don't seem to be aggressive, it almost seems like they are the ones frightened... I am not sure what to make of all this but for now, I know that we must keep looking for others. I will keep you safe until we do.",
"With haunting steps, the Dragon Knight strolled into Stonekeep. Blood of friend and foe alike coated him, staining his steel and leathers. The horde at the gates proved greater a threat than he'd calculated, but it mattered not. He had to get inside, and the sacrifice of his own men was a sacrifice well spent. *They would do the same, were they in my shoes.*\n\nThe Emperor of Eatun sat upon his throne at the opposite end of the great hall. Old, weak, but as able-minded as the day he tricked the world into trusting him. Patchy white hair and a bald chin, he looked frail as glass. There were no guards to protect him, to establish any sort of final defense. They'd died outside, along with everyone else, save the Dragon Knight.\n\n\"Do you know how much pain and suffering you've wrought?\" asked the Emperor, quivering at the sight of the crimson-soaked sword. \"You've ruined my lands, Percival. You've upset the balance.\"\n\n\"Perhaps I have,\" the Dragon Knight admitted, regretting that turn of events. Peaceful protests had been the start of the rebellion, now decades old and near its end. Percival White, the Dragon Knight of Rivertow, had lent aid to the cause by capturing the city that'd bestowed his title. He readily gave up Rivertow as the base of command for the true king, an offer accepted hesitantly by the rebel leader. \n\nThat was ten years ago, and the true king had lost his head in seven less. The Dragon Knight's vow to avenge him and rule in his stead had brought him here to Stonekeep, brought the rebellion to its height. Yes, the costs had been great, and many more may need being paid before the lands were just. But today, Percival needed only the black crown sat upon the wrinkled head of the Emperor.\n\n\"Do you think killing me will right your wrongs? You think my allies will submit to you once I'm gone?\"\n\nThe Dragon Knight scoffed. \"I think little of the lords who will cry your name. I will smash them underfoot if they dare disobey. Anything and anyone that tests me will taste my blade. I have slain dragons, 'Your Majesty'; affairs of men are far easier to handle.\"\n\nPercival reached the dais, a small staircase all that was left between him and the elderly man. High up was his throne, enough that a fall would turn his bones into dust and crush his innards. The Emperor was trapped, left to his fate. Fear shined in his eyes, and the smell of piss clung to his robes. *He leaves this world a shadow of a shadow, more infant than man.*\n\n\"I made foolish mistakes,\" the Emperor said, tears trailing down his wrinkled cheeks. \"I am not a perfect man. But I know one thing.\"\n\nThe tip of his blade pressed atop the Emperor's breast, Percival gave pause. *This ought to be splendid.* \"Share your knowledge, old man. Bring me knowledge with your final breath.\"\n\n\"I know the gods will forgive my mistakes, but yours?\" He barked a shallow, dry chuckle. \"The gods turn their backs to you, Dragon Knight. You shall not know forgiveness.\"\n\nAnother wheeze of amusement escaped the Emperor before Percival gave a swift thrust through his chest. The old man twitched, then slumped into his soiled throne, eyes wide open. Grotesquely, his maddened smile remained.\n\nPercival couldn't stand the sight of it. He took the dead man by his throat and hurled him off the high rise. The sickening squelch echoed through the empty chamber.\n\nHe dropped his sword, letting it clatter back down the stairs behind him. He turned and situated himself down on the ornate seat. Where there was once a great buzz of activity, the longtables and open floors were bare and quiet. So silent, Percival swore he heard the sound of the Emperor's blood trickle out of his body down below. \n\n\"I will fix this,\" he called out, his dying echoes losing confidence with every reverberation. \"I... I will.\n\n\"I hope.\""
] |
[
2,
2,
5
] |
[
"1448343626",
"1448347638",
"1448337567"
] |
|
Dig it?
|
[WP] You are a private investigator in a future world where we have advanced robotics and technology, but the culture stagnated in the early 1970's. This is cyberfunk.
| 327
|
[
"I awoke in some dark room, de smell uh mould and da damn unmistakable smell uh cocaine sweat wuz all ah' could snatch in. 'S coo', bro. \nas mah' eyes adjusted t'de light level mo'e details became visible, ah' wuz definitely in some sto'age cellar, nobody else around and passed out. Man! \n\nHow de fuck dun did ah' get here? Wuz it fast jimmy? Nah, he's some rat, but he ain't brave enough fo' dat. Man! \n\nI gots down off de dank floo' and fumbled around fo' some bit whilst digtin' mah' bearin's. Nodin' in here but mah'self and whut looked likes some soggy old half smoked j. ah' could now see da damn doo' clearly, big old steel fucker, gots'ta weigh some ton, so's I went down and checked dat broder. Ah be baaad... Locked. Wouldn't even jiggle it wuz so's heavy. Slap mah fro! \n\nWell fuck. Ya' know? \n\nI looked around mah'self, ah' gots'ta have at least some lasa' on me o' sump'n. \n\nFuck. Ya' know? \n\nWell as I'm probably stuck here, I'm digtin' t'dinkin' uh how ah' gots here. \n\n\nLast ah' rememba' is last night (well, how long gots ah' even been out, it could gots been days ago. 'S coo', bro.) ah' wuz on some job fo' de Warlo'ds, gun runnin', me and fat Jimmy and howlin' Mike. De shipment wuz some crate uh high powered lasa' rifles, dese wuz no fuckin' pea shooters,dese wuz real big boy toys. We wuz deliverin' it t'a rival gang fo' peacekeepin'. \n\n*I used the The Dialectizer.*\n\n\n",
"“I’ll call you when I get her,” I ensure the worried voice on the other end of the line, before ending the call.\n\n\nThe halls of this metal walled dump have half circles indented into the reflective surface that morph and contort the image of my face as I move. Elongated egg shaped lights with ultra bright, neon blue, lighting blind me as the partially exposed bulbs come into my view. \n\n\nThey buzz and I hate it. \n\n\nOccasionally, on the otherwise plain walls, a tilted square appears and grows large before rotating, shrinking, and then vanishing entirely. There is no pattern or specific reason for the placement of these lambent boxes. \n\n\nVisual stimuli for your walking pleasure. God forbid you get bored in the hallway.\n\n\nGod is dead and he has been replaced by nanocrystal quantum dot displays. Triptych screens on every wall for you to pray and sell your soul to. \n\n\nMy watch, with its elastic wrist band and gold screen lining, is pinging consistently to my In-World Digital Interface (IDI). Little blobs of transmogrifying virtual liquid, floating in the distance, indicate that she is here. Pulsing and dancing as it absorbs itself, breaking into smaller pieces of digital globular nonsense. \n\n\nAll I need to do is find her and bring her home.\n\n\nThe electro-funk jams, grinding out from a room down the hall interfere with my ability to hone in on her. Preventing me from determining what the situation is and whether she is safe or not. Against the shiny wall, a couple, both in mid-calf high and brightly colored vinyl platform boots, blow smoke in each other's faces and yell profanities at me. Thier pupils grow wide and their eye color changes beneath their tinted asymmetrically shaped glasses. \n\n\n“Do you see that suit!?” The girl cackles, hair sprayed up into two stiff cylinders of dark and curly afro, standing erect from either side of her head.\n\n\n“It ain’t even skin conforming er nothin’. Fuckin’ bore,” the boy replies, twisting a ringed robotic finger into one of the shredded tassels of the scantily clad woman’s belly shirt. \n\n\nA bunch of monkies. \n\n\nSniffing in the smoke of whatever they can light to induce chemical highs and make like rabbits in the hallway. I continue towards the ping and their mood lit buckles change color as I pass. Glowing orange from their boots, belts, and wrists. \n\n\nPointless garbage, the lot of it. \n\n\nThe patterned carpet changes, refreshing from paisley to a variety of different sized squares and the shapes on the wall change color to match. Now a vivid red which tints the metal wall and reflects against my skin.\n\n\nI’m no stranger to these lower class establishments and their hooligan inhabitants with their skin fitted pants and android integrations. \n\n\nBody modification was all the hype now. \n\n\nChop off arm and get fitted for something better. Don’t like your eyes? No problem, they’ll scoop ’em out and, guess what, you can make them glow radical and dynamic patterns. \n\n\nAnd I’m the square one. \n\n\nNow at the door, I press a finger against the keypad. It gives a chime, high pitched and upbeat, before turning blue and allowing me a visual. In my IDI, the door becomes holographic. A colorful blueprint of the interior of the apartment appears and the blobulating bubbles move to her. The system alerts me of three other bodies in the room and I get a reading that is incredibly disappointing. \n\n\nThough, I always expect to be disappointed with kids these days. \n\n\nThey are melding. Drugged out and interconnected as they delve into a psychedelic trip through their partner’s soul. It could last days, if you let it, and people report it as being one of the most intimate experiences one can have. \n\n\nI think it’s a load of crap.\n\n\nBut, the load of crap has given me more than my fair share of clients. Worried parents looking for their rebellious kids who’ve already lost an arm and an eye and a foot to this modern mania. When I give them back, they’re without an independent mind. Struggling in the twisted grasp of that damned drug. \n\n\nSome wacked out combination of battery acid, juiced amazonian frogs, and cerebral fluid stolen from fresh corpses. Frankly, the fucking chemistry is beyond me but the consequences just don’t seem worth the ride. The infant poison is known to cause an intense case of co dependency between its users. \n\n\nThe door pings as I code my override pin into my IDI and it spins, taking a portion of the ground around with it. Once it’s done and I’ve ridden the floor into the small front room, the odor of kids who’ve been melding for at least a week punches me square in the face. \n\n\nThe sweet and sickening smell of sex, body odor, and the smoke from the drug itself fills the neon colored room. Each wall decorated in an over the top fashion, with flashing lights and moving pictures, sewn together to make an ugly patchwork living space. Mannequins dressed in clear plastic skirts and bright highlighter colored fabric stare at me, curious about my presence with their preprogrammed android faces. \n\n\n“Jade, your mother sent me. I’m coming back there, please submit willingly. I’ve been given permission to use whatever force is deemed necessary,” I call out, hand cautiously on my paralytic in preparation for retaliation. \n\n\nAs was typical with these cases, she doesn’t fight back. Her bright pink, wig-like, mop of hair is matted and tangled. Strands sit in front of her face which, sometime last week, sported neon colored makeup that is now smeared all over her pale skin. Skin which is exposed down to the deep ridges of her hip as she slumps against the chair like a lifeless crash-test dummy. \n\n\nThe records on the wall glow and spin, sampling themselves to make a cacophonous symphony of dull noise. Recycled, refurbished, garbage.\n\n\nFrom behind the projected beads covering the closet erupts two cartoon looking men with bright red leather pants which flare out at the bottom so you can’t see their shoes. The rest of their attire is proper business dress, a slightly too large white blazer and tucked in white button up, topped with a red narrow tie. \n\n\nI’ve never been a fan of the narrow tie. \n\n\nA springing electronic noise from my IDI signals that I should move and the beams of green light pass my body. I fire two shots from my paralytic and hit on of the morons.\n\n\nHe collapses to the floor and looks helplessly to his partner.\n\n\n“They’re our fuckin’ pigs. Get yer own,” the standing man growls placing a hand against his tinted lenses, a growing and shrinking dotted circle moving along the glass. “If it’s the girl ya want, come back later. We can figure a fair price, but they’re testing right now.”\n\n\nI agree and walk out of the room. \n\n\nShe is a tester. A body pumped full of chemicals and poked and prodded until the effects wear off. If this was a lab, I would need to come back with specialized equipment. \n\n\nFuck if I was going to pass up an opportunity to bust a lab to rescue some zonked out daughter of a lonely woman. The prize for that was way to high. Plus, that kid is gone. \n\n\nRegardless of when I get her, she will wake up stupid as ever with a newly established mental link with her shaggy haired lover- unless he was a pet too. Which would be unfortunate for her. No matter how much they grow to hate each other, they will be stuck together until the melding wears off. So far, we aren’t quite sure how long that takes. \n\n\nUntil next time. \n\n\nEnd transmission…\n\n\nPush feed to net… \n\n\n\n--------------------------------\n\nEdit: I am actively adding to this. \n\n\nEdit: I think that I am going to keep this a one off for this post and am done editing for now. If you want to see a follow-up sub to /r/iswearimnotevil and I will post this when it is 100% done and start adding in a few days. ",
"There I was, lookin’ out the window at my beautiful city. Now, Neo Trenton ain’t no paradise, feel me? But it’s got glamour man, freakin’ style I tell ya. So there I am, lookin’ out at the neon signs on so many big ass buildings. Same ones every night, never gets old. My personal favorite? Well that’s gotta be the one for the casino about a block away. Big ol’ sign, bright as blazes. A man could get a tan standin’ too close. It says ‘Come Hang at the Regal!’ and a neon lady shakes her goods underneath.\n\nWell anyhow, I’m at the office lookin’ out that ol’ window and this jive turkey comes rumblin’ down the hall. I hear him comin’ a mile away, small wonder he didn’t break right through the floor on the way through. I turned away from the window and I see this silhouette, big as an ox, on the other side of the mottled glass of my door. He knocks. So I reach under my desk and take the fusion-cell laser I have tucked up under there for a rainy day. I got a feelin’ it’s about to rain.\n\n“Come in.” I says. He do. \nNow, he sounded big comin’ and he looked mighty big as a shadow outside, but I’ll be damned if that didn’t do him justice. This brotha’ was biiiiiig! I mean like King Kong steal yo’ girl and climb a building big! Only thing bigger than him was the perfect ‘fro he was rockin’. Probly added another foot to him and I bet he was six and a half feet stark bald!\n\nSo I says something like “What’s good my man?” tryin’ to play it cool right? But this turkey is fresh out the flash-freeze. He looks at me and don’t say nothin’. So I axe him “You needin’ a PI or you just lookin’ to clap eyes on me?” Nothin’ man! Goddam brick wall walked up into my office that day! Came to a PI’s office when he was really lookin’ for a brick and mortar mason! So I’m holdin’ my breath, hand on the trigger ya know. Might have to turn this brick wall to goo in a hurry. Finally he speaks up.\n\n“You Jimmy Flash, Private Eye?”\n\n“That’s what it says on the door my man.” Still cool. Be cool.\n\n“I heard you got the fever.” His voice is shakin’ the whole room I tell ya!\n\n“I can break loose when I get on the floor if that’s what you tryin’ to say.”\n\nNow, I guess this is all he needs to hear from me, cause I guess I done offended him with my stylin’ moves down at the Regal. You know when they start playin’ them funky tunes I gots to get loose! Anyhow, this mountain in my office takes off his shades and eyes me up for real. He reaches up into his afro, yeah man right in it, and pulls out this little ol’ box. He sets it on the floor and, yeah you know what happened next, the thing starts flashin’ lights and jammin’ tunes. He’s got himself a portable disco-matic! \n\nHe done turned my office into a dance floor just like that. So the bass starts pumpin’ some real funky tune I ain’t never heard in my life and I’ll be damned if fly ladies and hip fellas didn’t start filin’ right through the door of my office! Summoned by that funky ass bass, no doubt. He looks at his posse, then back at me and says:\n\n“I’m here for your title as the funkiest brother alive.”\n\nPart II when I have time"
] |
[
9,
12,
70
] |
[
"1448371590",
"1448387952",
"1448386688"
] |
[WP]You're living your life as normal when suddenly armed men burst through the door. "Your mission has failed, Agent, we're here to take you back to HQ"
| 123
|
[
"\"I, uh, just give-\" I stammered, slamming my laptop shut and grabbing my pants.\n\n\"There's no time, grab him. We need to get moving.\"\n\nI didn't know what to focus on first, the suited men in my bedroom or my belt. That choice was taken away from me though as I was dragged from the room and the world went black. Now I know my way around my house blindfolded and my room like the back of my hand, but the situation must have thrown those memories out. I was dragged to a corner and held whilst a whirring noise came from the wall. I was then pushed into a room I never knew existed. The blindfold was removed.\n\n\"Was that really necessary?\" I asked, shielding my eyes from the light.\n\n\"That might have felt like a few seconds Agent Noran but you've been out roughly,\" he paused to check his watch. \"Four days.\"\n\nMy eyes adjusted to the suit who had burst into my room to start this nightmare. A shaved head, sunglasses indoors and a jagged scar were all I needed to form some scary conclusions.\n\n\"My names George.\" I said, feeling like an idiot.\n\nSaid idiot was forced to sit down in the middle of the room. It looked like the cleanest cell imaginable with white walls, a white door and a too-white light shining down above me. I felt if heaven had a prison, it would look like this.\n\n\"George Conwell, born 1987 November 20th. We know who you are and you are not George Conwell.\" \n\nThe suit walked the few paces separating us and looked down at me.\n\n\"Agent Noran, it's time to come home.\"",
"Life was going fine. Everything was finally on track. Sure I had been having some difficult at work over the past... I don't even remember now. But a long time I'm sure. my marriage was working. The were doing well in school. All of this came together for a perfect celebratory dinner. \n\nA lovely noodle dish that my wife always hate but I influenced the kids to love just so she had to make it for me.\n\nThis day couldn't be better.\n\nrrrrrrrrrrrrIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG\n\n\nit sliced the calm\n\n\nrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG\n\nIt seemed to insist to be know. \n\nTo be heard. \n\nMy wife handed it to me. \"They say you know who's calling, is everything alright?\"\n\n\"Umm... Hello this Dave? Who is this?\"\n\n\"It's over \"Dave\". meet us outside We'll be by in less than 3\"\n\n\\*Click\\*\n\nThe details for me are foggy from here. I think I said something to my family and the next thing I know I'm in a gray chamber\n\nThe label on my door said \"REINTEGRATION\"\n\n\"Agent, welcome back. I'm sorry about you installment but it wasn't going where the department needed it to go I'm sure you understand. We'll give you time before we reassign you. Your effects and money are at the front we'll contact you when it's time.\"\n\nWhat. \n\nWell they led me to the front gave me a large envelope and showed me the door. I don't know where I am. This city is so large. The envelope tells me I am Adam Smith and the. Oh my. $600,000. What have I done in my whole life to earn $600,000? \n\nwhat do I do with $600,000? do I just live my life? What exactly is my life? What do I... Who am I?",
"\"Well, it's about time!\"\n\nThe squad commander looked confused. \"Er, uhm, does this mean you'll come with us peacefully, Sir?\"\n\n\"I've been waiting for you idiots to show up for years. What took you so long?\"\n\n\"Uh, well, I was given the directive to retrieve the assets, I mean, you, only a few hours ago, Sir. Director Henshaw--\"\n\n\"Oh god. That explains everything. Henshaw's in charge now? Imbeciles. What happened to Morris? Never mind. Your clearance probably isn't high enough for that. Let me grab my bags and we can go.\"\n\nI jotted down a quick note in my bedroom before grabbing my laptop bag. \"Sorry mom, won't be home for dinner. Love you. -J\"\n\nI pointed out a number of black duffel bags to the men and walked back to the living room and out the door. I threw my black laptop bag in the back of their black, unmarked van and climbed in to the back seat.\n\n-----\n\nA scowling face appeared when they took the blindfold off. *Precautions*. \"Well, well, look what the cat--\"\n\n\"Henshaw. Stuff it. What the fuck happened? Why did it take you so long to come get me? Where's Morris? Who the fuck decided that you were competent enough to do anything more than--\"\n\n\"That's enough.\" I whipped my head around to stare at the voice that appeared beside me.\n\n\"Morris! You're still here. Thank God. What happened to the Gödel Protocol?\"\n\n\"Glad to see you too, buddy. It's a long story. One that we don't have time for. What's your update?\"\n\n\"We need to burn them. We need to reboot.\"\n\n\"What? No. Do you know how much time this organization has invested in this?\"\n\n\"I know. But it didn't fucking work, just like I told you before we started. The world only does phases and fads now and ours is costing too much to keep it operational. We need to start over.\"\n\nMorris shook his head. \"All that time wasted.\"\n\n\"They're in the duffels. You wanna do it, or shall I?\"\n\nHenshaw chimed in, as if he wanted to make sure we knew he was still there. \"It'll be my pleasure.\" He walked to the back of the room where my stuff was sitting on a counter. He opened the first duffel and started to pull out electronic equipment.\n\nI grabbed Morris' arm as he turned away from me. \"I know you really cared about this, man, but it's for the best.\"\n\nMorris stopped and faced me. \"I should've listened to you from the beginning. I just didn't know how else to determine if there was a polynomial-time algorithm for generating a theorem proving procedure. No single man or organization has enough computational power to even determine if we **can** solve an NP-complete problem without testing every single solution. You know the implications of this for humanity.\"\n\n\"I know, but we need to reboot, and this time, don't do it with BitCoin.\"",
"It must have been quite the sight, fork of instant noodles halfway to a slack-jawed mouth as I watched with a sheepish gaze as one after the other black suit stormed in. \n\n\"Did you hear me, Agent? We're pulling you out! Get a move on, chopper is eta 5 minutes!\"\n\nStupidly, I looked behind me to see if there was perhaps someone standing exactly behind me who did have a clue what was going on. Nope, Just a couple of the suits who were checking my kitchen for... terrorists? I returned my gaze to the head suit, who had clearly lost his patience years ago and was not even bothering to go and look for it. Head suit must have seen complete and total ignorance in my eyes as he pulled a sheet of paper from somewhere in his suit jacket. \n\nI could see the reflection in his Raybans. Atop the piece of paper was a picture, it looked a surprising amount like my latest passport photo where it looked like I had a thick moustache, with some red text stamped over it. He glanced back and forth between the picture and my face. I decided to close my mouth, so maybe he could see the lack of resemblance better.\n\n\"Agent Lenkman? Stephen Lenkman? Stephen with a ph?\"\n\nNope, he was definitely looking for me allright. I dropped my jaw again to make sure I conveyed my thoughts, or lack there of, on the situation.\n\n\"Agent Lenkman, you have been undercover for 17 years, some confusion is to be expected but now is not the time to hang around. You've been compromised and a hit squad may be heading here as we speak.\"\n\nA noise in the kitchen made me turn my head again. It seemed the suits had been content with the lack of, something, in my kitchen and were now noisily inspecting my supply of breakfast cereal and instant noodles. One of them was casually wiping a bowl, while another was sniffing the milk carton. \n\nA hand on my shoulder made me look back to head suit. He was leaning over me now, nose slightly wrinkeled. I guess my shirt was a tad smelly. I hadn't changed it yet this month, or even last month? Can't remember.\n\nHead suit was checking something on the paper that seemed like it had my picture on it. \n\n\"Agent Lenkman, clearance level 14, Delta segment, undercover ops\"\n\nNothing struck me familiar about that. \n\n\"Lenkman, your safety phrase is...\", he looked down on the paper for a moment and sighed before reading aloud \"Purple Pumpernickle Puppies are Pampered by Paupers\". I never thought it possible to pronounce capitalisation, but he seemed to be able to just fine. \n\n\"Purple. Pumpernickle. Puppies.... Are you even listening? What are you on, Lenkman?\"\n\nA crash from the kitchen made us both look. One of the suits was standing over a mess of cereal, milk and broken bowl looking at us with an apologetic grin. \n\nHead suit turned me around again. \n\n\"Lenkman, you're getting on that chopper. I don't care how elaborate your cover is and how you seem to cling to it for dear life. We need to move, Lenkman!\"\n \nHe signaled to the cereal suit and they both brusquely picked me up under my shoulders. I managed to grab my winter coat as they dragged me out through the hallway and out the destroyed front door. Standing in the street was a sleek, military looking helicopter. I hadn't even heard it land. \n\nHang on a second, this street is way too narrow for a helicopter to land, even one that looks as sleek as this one does. I looked up.\n\nYup, still the same street. Street lights intact and not utterly destroyed by a rotating helicopter blade. Windows unsmashed by ensuing debris. Street not a blaze of fire from the helicopter crash. Just a sleek, black chopper standing there being completely still and silent. \n\nHang on a sec, this helicopter doesn't even have blades, how did it take off in the first place? Let alone land here...\n\nMy thoughts were interrupted as a sharp prick underneath my ear made me look around. Cereal suit was standing a ways away helping himself from the box now. Head suit was holding a needle.\n\n\"Sorry Lenkman, but you seem awfully confused and I can't risk you doing anything unpredictable. A fuzzy, warm feeling started to spread it's way through my entire body. All the way down to my toes. No, not my toes. Toes remaining perfectly cold. I looked down as the fuzzyness had started to spread across my vision aswell. My woollen, mustard yellow socks were slightly darker at the tip. It seemed I was standing in a small puddle. \n\n\"Hey\" I uttered,\" I forgot my shlipp perzzzhsshshh\"\n\nI fell backwards as the blurryness now reduced my socks to a mustard yellow stain. My house passed in front of my vision. The house I had called home for the last 37 years. The house I had only left twice in the last 17 years. It would be the last time I ever saw it. \n\n____________________________________________________________________________________\n\nAaaaaargh!\n\nMy eyes shot open as the current raced through the wires attached to my temples. \n\n\"LENKMAN\" Head Suit bellowed, \"LOOK AT ME\". He turned the current off so I could at least relax a little in the straps. \"You stink, Lenkman. You have any idea how much a man's shit stinks when he's living on a diet of ramen and cereal?\"\n\nI tried to focus on Head Suit. Cereal Suit was standing discreetly by the door, trying to hide the packet of crisps in his pocket from which he occasionally chucked a handfull into his mouth. Every time the bag crackled, I felt sharp pangs in my head. The electricity didn't help aswell. Somehow, Cereal Suit kept drawing my gaze. It had always been like this. I couldn't concentrate for the life of me. Three tv's and still I spent most of my time staring out the window. I wonder if I would had seen the helicopter land if Cereal Suit hadn't dropped the ...\n\nA sharp pain across my left cheek reminded me that Head Suit was trying to get my attention. I returned my gaze to him. I could see my bloodshot eyes in his Raybans. I tried to focus on the reflection, but it kept swimming away from me. \n\n\"Lenkman? You ready to pay attention now?\"\n\nI finally succeeded to focus on a tiny scratch on his right lens. Head Suit seemed satisfied, or at least for as far as he could convey any emotion from the space between his shirt collar and his sunglasses. His nose was wrinkled again. I wondered why for a moment, but then my nose started working again. A combination of sweat, shit and some metallic, warm sensation. Probably blood. \n\n\"Lenkman, let's go over it again shall we? You are Agent Stephen Lenkman. You have been part of the Deep Cover programme for the last 17 years. You have been assigned to IREA, Intelligence Relay Extraction and Analysis. Your handler, Vaughn, handled your daily reports and supplied you with....\"\n\nCereal Suit chose this moment to grab some crisps. I guessed they were plain salt flavoured. They were a plain, potato colour. Maybe it was some cool flavour like cheese and onion. Yeah, Cereal Suit looked like cheese and onion type of guy. I noticed Head Suit had stopped talking and seemed to be waiting for some sort of reply from me. I quickly reverted my gaze to the tiny scratch. \n\n\"Well? Any of it ring a bell?\"\n\nHe sighed and walked over to the table in the middle of the room. It was one of those cool looking stainless steel tables like the one in The Matrix. And other movies aswell. A lot of movies actually. Seems like everyone in Hollywood knew where they sold those tables. But you can call seventeen Ikea's, including one in Göteborg, and a list of 14 other random furniture stores and noone seems to know what you're trying to find. Head suit looked tired. He started to rummage in a folder. \n\n\"Vaughn gave us the code mauve seventeen hours ago. His transmission was abruptly cut off. We then got word from the Paris branch that your code name and location had been spotted in an secret memo between OVAL cadre members. We then moved your case up to a code Purple. CISCO teams were able to run interference untill 11 hours ago when...\"\n\nWhat the hell colour was mauve again? From the sound of it, I suspected some weird type of red. I think the front door might have been mauve. Cereal Suit was at his crisps again, the crumbling from the bag got louder as it got emptier and emptier. Sharp pangs through my ears all the way through my brain. Bouncing around. Wait, I got it, Black pepper and Salt. Yeah, that's totally what Cereal Suit would enjoy for his crisps.\n\n\"LENKMAN, GOD DAMMIT, STAY THE FUCK WITH ME!\" Head Suit yelled exasparated.\n\nElectricity again. I strained against the straps. I could feel unconsciousness creeping back in like a teenager coming home late from the party. Trying to be subtle and cool, thinking's he's being quiet but still walking into tables and chairs as he drunkenly tries to make his way upstairs. The strap holding my forehead snapped and Head Suit took it as a signal to turn off the voltage. \n\nMy head drooped as I quietly soiled myself again. I felt fresh, warm shit crawling down my legs. Sleepy time...\n\n__________________________________________________________________________________________\n\n"
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1,
3,
6,
52
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[
"1448520249",
"1448513831",
"1448478581",
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[WP] write a romantic story about a man and his sex doll
| 4
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[
"“Blow-Up Doll, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Blow-Up-Doll: the red of my cheeks flaring through puckered lips in acting out her name. Blow. Up. Doll. \n\nShe was Blow, blown up in the morning, crumpled in a heap four feet ten next to one crusty sock. She was my Dolly in slacks. She was Up, made up at school. She was $43.95 on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Blow-Up Doll. \n\nDid she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Blow-Up Doll at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial mannequin. In a malldom by the sea. \n\nOh when? About as many years before Blow-Up Doll was manufactured as my age was that summer. You can always count on a weeb for a fancy prose style. \n\nLadies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the normals, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged normals, envied. Look at this heap of plastic love.”",
"Gary searched for years for her. Scouring online records and going through some of the seediest online forums just to find any lead. After months of pestering, and emptying a sizable chunk of his bank account, he finally convinced a collector of rare sex dolls to let her go. Gary hadn't been married in a long time. He met his previous wife when they were young. Stephanie had been a bit of a wild child but the way Gary pursued her in his sweet endearing ways had made her seriously consider settling down. Gary loved her so much, but as they say about young love, it rarely lasts. He lived alone now. It was cheaper and after what he and Stephanie went through, he needed cheap. He was waiting in his nearly barren apartment, listening for the doorbell while thinking of all the things he couldn't wait to do when the doll got here. He fell asleep in his chair to old records and with bottles around his feet as was the usual protocol for his nights. The next day he woke with a start and immediately ran to the door. It finally came. After all those years was the moment he was never sure would come. He opened it up slowly and carefully. Stella Starr was the name on the box. Gary thought it was a bit cheesy but he couldn't help but smile at the datedness of it all. Blew her up and took her to his bed. At first he just laid there crying. The last time he laid in this bed with someone was with Stephanie. He missed her. Her hair, her eyes, the way her body fit into his. What he missed probably most of all though was her personality. How even towards the end she kept that crazy smile on her face. Through everything life through at them. Through the period when her hair fell out, through the period when her eyes seemed to sink in and lose a bit more of that fire behind them everyday, through when she was in hospice and could no longer lay with her. That smile was always there. Always her. And the manufacturers did a damn good job recreating it. When Gary and Stephanie first started dating she always wowed him with the lively exciting experiences she's had. How she travelled to a foreign country she didn't know the native language of for a year and made friends for life. How she once warded off a grizzly who confronted her on a hunting trip. Even the more risqué things like how she did some \"special modeling\" for a \"special company\" a few months before she met Gary. When she passed away he tried to remember her life and not just her tragic journey to death. On a whim he checked the Internet to see if he could find some relics of her special modelling. That whim quickly turned into an obsession. Everyday spending hours online searching for obscure clues just so he could finally have this moment. And there he lay, with the perfect recreation of his wife. The hair, the eyes, even the way her body fit into his. He continued to cry, but he couldn't stop smiling. He had finally gotten his wish to hold her one last time. He held her for hours. Finally falling asleep as the sun peeked through the window, and finally doing it without having to black out drunk on whiskey and memories. \n\n\nEdit:I know format is bad I typed it out on mobile \n"
] |
[
2,
2
] |
[
"1448562617",
"1448565710"
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[WP] Two super heroes are the best of friends when in costume, but keep their true identities hidden from each other for a long time. When they finally reveal themselves to each other, it turns out they've met in real life... and are not very fond of one another.
| 40
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[
"The Muskox and Phantom Girl were ranked as Metro City's 29th and 34th best superheroes, respectively, according to last month's poll in Crimefighting Digest, but together they ranked as the #4 crimefighting duo in the city. They were up with the likes of Ventureman & Loftboy and Iron Lance & Sir Punchem. \n\nJust last week, they apprehended Metro City's 11th most wanted villain, Demon Fist, during one of his poorly planned bank heists. The Muskox stampeded in and subdued the second-rate henchmen, while Phantom Girl immobilized Demon Fist and his flaming hand with her telekinetic powers. Overall, it's wasn't too difficult of a mission, especially when they were working together. \n\nTheir unofficial partnership began about eight months ago, after a particularly rough battle against The Smasher. After taking down the Waldorf Building with his Fists of Fury, he was finally defeated when Phantom Girl used her cloaking powers so Muskox could sneak up behind the villain and deliver his signature knockout punch to the back of his head. Ever since that battle, they teamed up together whenever they could, fighting together three to four times a week, honing their villain-busting skills together, but never delving too far into their true identities. \n\nAfter all this time, neither had even seen the other without their mask on and divulging their secret identities was totally out of the question. That was until a late evening battle one Fourth of July against the villain Lieutenant Arson. \n\nIt was a long fight, spanning two counties, Muskox working east to stamp out the random fires started by the flame-obsessed maniac and Phantom Girl gliding through the trees tracking the well-camouflaged culprit from the north. They were able to corral Lieutenant Arson into the old quarry and once he lost his access to the flammable forest, he was swiftly defeated, but only after sending one rogue fireball into Phantom Girl's face, knocking her out of the sky. \n\nMuskox bolted over and caught her before she hit the rocks, her mask sparking and her dark purple hair singed, beginning to turn light blond at her roots. She opened her eyes, now her usual dark green rather than the deep violet she was able to change them to, and looked at the Muskox, panic in her face. She reached up and tore her mask off, hurling it down into the quarry pit, seconds before it exploded in a blinding flash of purple. She smoothed the now blond hair out of her face and he saw Phantom Girl's real face for the first time, a face he had seen a thousand times before. \n\n\"Janet?!\" Muskox asked, incensed. He instinctively took two steps back, his jaw dropping. Phantom Girl recognized his voice, that accusing inflection she was so familiar with and she jolted to her feet. \n\n\"Charles?! Is that you?!\" She asked angrily. \"You can't be serious! Take that damn mask off!!\" Muskox reached up, unclasped his enchanted mask, and pulled it off by its titanium horns. His deep ruby eyes faded to their usual light brown in the moonlight and his bulging muscles shrunk down to their normal size. He threw his mask on the ground with a loud clang and sighed, shaking his head.\n\n\"How could you not tell me you were Phantom Girl?!\" He asked, only harshness in his voice. \"I mean, we were married for three goddamn years!!\"\n\nJanet and Charles had met in college. She was working on her Ph.D in engineering and he had just started a Master's in Historical Artifacts. They were introduced by a mutual friend and for their first date, he took her to a documentary, \"The Life and Death of Captain Blaster.\" After the movie, they shared some mint chocolate chip ice cream and when they kissed for the first time, the taste of her lemon lip gloss lingered on his lips. \n\nThey had been dating seriously for five months when Janet had her lab accident that gave her the telekinetic powers, two days after they had gone canoeing on Lake Excelsior, when Charles first told Janet that he loved her. It wasn't until eight months later that Charles had received the magic amulet that afforded him his super strength from a late villain's estate sale. They married two years later, vowing themselves in sickness and in health, but never once mentioning their powers to one another. \n\n\"God Charles, you KNOW that I couldn't reveal my powers to you!\" She screamed. \"Rule Seven in the Hero Manual and you know that! Why didn't you ever tell me then?\"\n\n\"I was just trying to protect you!\" He exclaimed. \n\nShe rolled her eyes. \"Well, then great job back there with the fireball,\" she mocked. \n\nThey had never fought during their first two years of marriage. It wasn't until they started staying out late, fighting crime while the other person sat at home waiting over cold dinner, that things began to dissolve between them. When he came home with bruises he couldn't explain, she suspected that his father's alcoholism finally caught up to him. And when she was gone all night, explaining that she had fallen asleep in her lab after a long project, but was nowhere to be found when he tried to surprise her there with dinner, he grew frustrated. And they both suspected that the other secretly had feelings for someone else, which was partially true. As Janet and Charles spent less and less time together, Phantom Girl and Muskox grew closer, fighting villains long into the night, trusting each other with their lives. \n\n\"So all the sneaking around back then, that was this?\" He motioned to her costume. \"There wasn't some other guy you were seeing behind my back?\" He asked, a twinge of relief in his voice. \n\n\"There wasn't anyone else. It was just..\" She raised her open palm to his glowing mask in the dirt, \"It was just him... You. All of this, this life. You know how it is.\" Her face started to blush at his intense gaze. She shrugged and his face softened. \n\nCharles looked down and kicked a small rock from under his foot, feeling embarrassed.\n\n\"Do you want to go bring this guy into the police station and then maybe get some drinks together?\" He pointed to the unconscious villain lying in the dirt and then took a step closer to Janet. She reached up, brushed the debris out of his beard, and set her hand on his chest. \n\n\"How about some ice cream instead?\" She suggested. \"I could go for some mint chocolate chip goodness and maybe an ice pack.\" He smiled at her, feeling her warm hand over his heart. \n\n\"Absolutely. Let's go, partner,\" he said, reaching out his rough hand to her. She grasped it surely, her eyes briefly flickering violet in the moonlight, as they moved on together, hand in hand, one less secret between them. \n",
"The two men stood in the center of Herculean's incredibly well-decorated and spacious penthouse. Neither was wearing his respective costume. They stared at one another's mask-less faces. Both beloved heroes attempted to process the situation.\n\n\"I can't even...\"\n\nHerculean was completely in shock. He recognized Giga Byte, and he knew he hated the person behind the mask. It took a few minutes for either men to speak up again. They stared at one another in silence until Giga Byte let out a sigh.\n\n\"So,\" he said, pausing as though to prevent himself from saying anything harsh. \"Where do we go from here, *Herculean*?\"\n\nHerculean clenched his fists. Through gritted teeth, he replied, \"I think we better part ways now.\"\n\n\"Or what?\" asked Giga Byte. He couldn't help but smile. Herculean carried himself like he was the strongest man ever, but Giga Byte had enough advanced weaponry that Herculean wasn't a threat whatsoever to him. Or so he assumed.\n\nHerculean spat on the ground. The spit was very close to Giga Byte's shoes.\n\n\"Be glad that didn't hit me,\" said Giga Byte.\n\n\"Boys, can we please relax?\" Lumen asked.\n\nBoth men had forgotten she was in the room with them. They had been so intensely staring at each other that they completely disregarded the petite heroin a few feet away. Herculean turned to Lumen and said, \"We've taken off our masks. Why don't you do the same?\"\n\n\"I never agreed to,\" she responded. She pressed a hand against her face as though to feel and ensure her mask was still there.\n\nGiga Byte was enraged. He remembered Herculean really well. A part of him wanted to pull out his gun and put several bullets through Herculean's skull, but Giga Byte knew bullets would just bounce off the big, muscular man in front of him. Giga Byte had seen it happen before.\n\n\"You're an asshole!\" Giga Byte shouted.\n\nHerculean let out a loud laugh. He wiped his right eye, exaggerating tears of laughter that weren't really there.\n\n\"I'm an asshole, huh?\" asked Herculean. \"I'm pretty sure you're the asshole here, Giga. Or should I call you 'Patrick'?\"\n\n\"Don't call me by my government name, Dick,\" Giga barked. \"Or should I call you... Well, never mind. Your parents already named you Dick!\"\n\nLumen begged the two men to calm down, but Herculean couldn't handle his parents being mentioned in any conversation. Giga Byte knew this. He'd done research on the multi-millionaire Dick Sparkles before, especially after their initial meeting that dark, dreadful night that caused each man to hate the other's true identity.\n\nOf course, that was before Giga Byte knew Herculean's true identity.\n\n\"Oh, you're so mad,\" Giga Byte teased. \"What? You gonna tell mommy I mocked you? Oh, wait. I'm sorry. I forgot your parents are dead!\"\n\nThat was it. Herculean couldn't hold back his rage anymore. Within the blink of an eye, he lunged for Giga Byte's throat. Giga tried to grab for his utilities belt, but there was nothing there. *Shit*, Giga Byte thought. *I left my belt in the car!*\n\nAs Herculean continued to strangle the life out of Giga Byte, Lumen jumped on the giant man's back and tried to pry his arms apart. It was all to no avail.\n\nWithin a matter of seconds, Giga Byte's lifeless body fell to the ground. Herculean reached behind him and pulled Lumen off. He dropped her on the ground and then walked over to a chair across the room to take a seat.\n\nLumen cried softly. Giga Byte may have been a douche, but he was a great super hero. He prevented so many assassinations... It wasn't fair.\n\nHerculean stared at Giga Byte's corpse. A sense of despair and guilt fell over him.\n\n\"What have I done?\" he said. \"I can't believe I just killed him...\"\n\nLumen looked up at Herculean. \"You're a monster!\" she screamed. Herculean could feel rage building over himself again. He clenched his chair's front legs and bent them in an instance.\n\n\"Nobody calls me a monster,\" he angrily announced. \"That was dad's nickname for me!\"\n\n\"Fuck your dad, Dick!\" Lumen shouted.\n\nHerculean stormed towards Lumen in a fit of rage, but she let out a blinding ray of light. Herculean crashed into a wall and fell. He grasped and swung around him in case Lumen was near by, but he felt nothing more than air.\n\n\"You fucking bitch! I'm blind!\" Herculean yelled.\n\nLumen sent a shock wave towards Herculean. It paralyzed him. As his vision slowly returned, Herculean saw Lumen standing over him.\n\nWith her mask off.\n\n\"You!\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Lumen said. \"Me.\"\n\nThey glared at each other. Herculean wanted to kill Lumen. He recognized her from the coffeehouse where he and Giga Byte originally met without their super hero costumes. The same coffeehouse interaction that caused the two men to hate each other's true identities so.\n\n\"You have many questions, but I don't have time for answers,\" Lumen said.\n\n\"I just want to know why. Why the fuck did you do it?\" Herculean begged. He was still paralyzed, but his fingers moving slightly meant his movement was slowly returning. It was just a matter of biding time for the paralysis to completely subside, then he could murder this barista bitch.\n\n\"So it's my fault, huh?\" asked Lumen. She paced the room a bit. \"It's *my* fault you two prideful fucks fought over me?\"\n\n\"Over you?!\" Herculean yelled in disbelief. \"Can you be any more conceited, you fucking bitch?!\"\n\n\"If not me, then who?\"\n\n\"Not who, but what, stupid. You said the next customer would receive the last 50 cent discount for the cappuccino,\" Herculean said.\n\nLumen was taken aback. \"Wait... What? No... You killed Giga Byte... Y-y-you killed him... over a discount? You're a billionaire. Why would you... Why?! Why'd you kill him for a 50 cent discount on a $4 coffee?!\"\n\nHerculean regained his movement. He bolted forward and began strangling Lumen. She again used bright light to momentarily blind Herculean, but he didn't loosen his grip.\n\nShe could feel herself dying. The panic made her attempt every power she had, but the lack of oxygen to her brain caused her to paralyze Herculean, which only made it so he couldn't loosen his grip even if he wanted.\n\nJust before she breathed out her last breath, Herculean whispered, \"I'm not a billionaire. I'm only worth $999 million. I just forgot my debit card that day and had $3.50, so that 50 cent discount meant more to me than you'll ever know.\""
] |
[
3,
20
] |
[
"1448599113",
"1448588156"
] |
|
[WP] I said, "I Love you," and she screamed.
| 8
|
[
"We had been fighting. We had been fighting about God knows what this time and it was taking a toll on us. The stress and tension was so bad that my hair hurt. I could feel my head tingling and my face tightening. How this became the norm in our life, who knows, but I couldn't stand being in the apartment anymore. The hurt feelings that hung in the air and the salt from the tears that stained her face crippled my resolve to stay. I said “lets go for a walk and get some fresh air. We can clear our heads.” She agreed and slowly wiped her face. \nIt was mid afternoon and the spring sun felt great. Today was a warm beautiful day and being away from the stuffy apartment is exactly what we needed. Tempers cooled down a little and we just walked and talked. It had been a while since we were able to just talk. The past few months every time we spoke to each other it was through gritted teeth and raised voices. At this point our neighbors must think fighting is our hobby and the only way we know how to communicate. The first time you say something that you can't take back is shocking. When it becomes the norm it just feels good to get it off your chest. I wonder how much the people downstairs have heard. They must think we are despicable people. \nIts been rough few months. You hate the new area and can not find a job you like. Making friends has been difficult and you've been lonely and bored. Someone as driven and motivated as your self, not having a purpose is crushing to the soul. The boredom starts eating at you and you feel like a failure in every sense. \nMaking friends for me, as it always is, is easy and natural. I know you don't mean to be, but I can sense your jealousy as I continue to progress. I liked the new area and adapted to the change easily. Eventually your jealously turned to hate. You wouldn't tell me, but I saw it in your face. I am not sure why you wouldn't come out and tell me, but I tell you hated me. Every time you looked at me, it was the only thing on your face. Bitter hate in almost every look. Even when you were trying to be nice, it was the only emotion I saw in your eyes. I could hear the spire in your voice even when we were doing simple things. Last night when we had dinner, you sat across from me and looked at me. The anger in your eyes was so bad I had to look away. I had to look down. I had to look anywhere but your face. You blamed me as if it was my fault you weren't achieving what you were used to. \nWalking felt great. We walked and made small talk. You told me about the park you found and how much you enjoyed walking there while I was at work. You smiled for the first time in a long time and when I saw you smile, I realized how long it had been since I told you I loved you. The fighting, my schedule, the stress. All of it was just excuses of why I have been so bad to you lately. I thought this is my opportunity to turn it around. In this shared moment I realized I wanted to reconnect with you. I wanted what we always had. We can pull through. \nI said it. “I love you.” You just stared at me either in surprise, disbelief, or disgust. I could not tell why your reaction was the way it was, but you just stared at me while your eyes furrowed and anger flashed across your face. You screamed “You love me? This would be so much easier if you were just fucking the neighbor.” You slapped me as if loving you had become a crime that I committed specifically to hurt you. \n“What the fuck are you talking about” I asked?\nYour only response was “I am leaving.” I tried to interject, but you just whispered “to little to late” as you turned around and walked away. “I love you” I said softly as I watched you walk away from me. “I love you” ",
"It started when we were in high school. She was the redhead cheerleader with green eyes, somebody's dream girl, not popular but typically not a loser. I was quiet, moody, not really anything to look at or admire. I sat near the back of the room in class, she was in the middle but close to the front. Her name was Lydia Harleston and in those days, she would become my one and only.\nBut maybe I'm getting a little too rushing. Let me begin on the afternoon of October 7th, 2005. It was another Friday afternoon at Sendrick Regional High School and we were all just about ready to pick up our stuff, go to our lockers and enjoy our weekend. It was sixth period English in room 207 and that day's topic was...wait for it....Love, Peace and Conflict. Ugh, somebody shoot me.\nMrs. Rayn, our English teacher, was a very peculiar character with large, frizzy blond hair who wore glasses and an assorted range of patterned shirts, shawls and long 60's-style skirts. \n\nMrs. Rayn said \"So on this beautiful day, we're going to be discussing love, peace and conflict within the literature we've read so far this semester as well as novels we've read outside of class. Does anyone want to begin our discussion?\"\n\nKristen Melford, a blonde and short girl, raised her hand reluctantly. She was one of those artsy types who made sculptures, paintings and sketches just for fun. Her clique-sorry, I mean crew-actually had a pool betting on what art school would accept her first. But I digress. Back to what you really want to hear.\n\nKristen answered \"Well, we read Romeo and Juliet last month and I found it interesting that Romeo and Juliet tried to find love with all the conflict between their families. I mean, the Friar mainly wanted them together not only because he thought they were right for each other but because he wanted peace to occur between the two families.\"\n\nLydia said \"Yeah and the two definitely seemed right for each other. Romeo actually had the courage to confess his love to Juliet and to strive for her hand in marriage despite everything that they were going through at the time.\"\n\nMaureen Farrell, a brunette tomboy, replied curtly \"But Romeo only fell in love with Juliet because he went to the ball trying to find his original crush, Juliet's cousin who turned out to be a nun. If Romeo had found Rosaline or some other girl at the ball rather than Juliet, it'd be an entirely different story.\"\n\nI said gruffly \"Not to mention that Romeo did it in secret which meant he knew the consequences of what would happen if he did it in public. He'd get his head cut off by Tybalt.\"\n\nMost of my classmates looked surprised that I even spoke, Lydia included. I wasn't joking when I said I was quiet. \n\nMrs. Rayn raised her hands and asked \"Why don't we focus mainly on the positives of the love, peace and conflict rather than the negatives?\"\n\nStu smirked and answered in a taunting manner \"What would be the point in that, Mrs. Rayn? After all, conflict's always negative so why not focus on it?\"\n\nStu Yangis had been my best friend for years, whether out of lack of choice, out of common interests or out of necessity is something that nobody knows, not even us. He was a bit of a troublemaker but he also had a sense of humor and a rebellious streak that I witnessed in action several times.\n\nKristen said \"Do you always have to be such a jerk, Yangis?\"\n\nStu replied \"Do you always have to be such a prude, Melford? Or is it just in your hipster family's blood?\"\n\nI snorted while Lydia rolled her eyes at Stu's antics. She wasn't a fan of him but I'd say 70-75 percent of the class wasn't. Maybe that's what made him all the more entertaining. He was the minority in a group of the majority and didn't care.\n\n(to be continued)\n\n"
] |
[
3,
7
] |
[
"1448639737",
"1448657052"
] |
|
It can be a real person or a fictional one.
|
[WP] Write a poem about someone's death.
| 10
|
[
"Quiet paces across the cold linoleum floor, poking her head around the corners of each doorjam. \n\nAlone in the dark, silence engulfs her mind. It's blissful and serene, as if her thoughts are blind. \n\nFully clothed, geared for the harsh Winter winds, she steps outside and breathes deep. \n\nThis is the end.\n\nOf her thoughts, her failures, her pain. \n\nThere's practically a skip in her step as she makes her way down the street. \n\nA smile graces her face when she reaches the overpass. \n\nThe one where she held hands with her boyfriend, walked over with her best friends, where she took pictures of the cars passing underneath. \n\nThe overpass where she climbed to the top, and jumped. \n",
"He bounded, jumped, and danced\n\"You're 20, start acting your age\" she would say\nBut he didn't move anymore\nHe was deadly still\nTerrifyingly silent\nHe was stagnant, just like she wanted him to be\nBut not like this\nShe spiraled into a panic\nThe doctors voices sounded like car alarms\nThe beeping shattered the sounds\nHe sunk deeper and deeper\n\"Wake up!\" She screamed\nHe didn't make a move\nHe didn't make a sound \nHe was finally ready\nBut the light at the end of the tunnel was the fires of hell\nHe fell down\n\"This is all just a horrible nightmare!\" A familiar voice rang\nHe felt his body fading, turning into dust\nUntil he hit the ground with an echoing thud scattering everywhere \nCold, sterile air filled his lungs.\nHe saw her, and the doctors working feverishly to keep him there\nThey told him he had flatlined\nBut they were able to revive him\nThe day he left the hospital with her\nHe made a promise to himself\nTo never act his age\n\n",
"There once was a boy called Tom,\n\nWho spotted a lump on his arm,\n\nHe was told it's benign,\n\nAnd that he'll be oh so fine,\n\nBut now poor little Thomas is gone.",
"Two years ago, I lost a friend.\n\nTwo years from then, I realized what I had really lost.\n\n_____________________________________________\n\nHe was an obnoxious individual\n\nOf many useless words and nonsense.\n\nHis obsessions led to his social expense,\n\nBoundless debts that were abysmal. \n\n__________________________________\n\nI heard he was getting much better,\n\nI hadn't seen him after I moved.\n\nMaybe he'd be a little more \"smarter.\"\n\nDeep down I really hoped. \n\n_____________________________________\n\nTwo years ago, I lost a friend.\n\nTwo years from then, I'm left with the memories of someone who had changed. \n\nNever to be updated, never to be truthfully altered. \n\nI can hear what you had to say about him,\n\nBut it's just not firsthand. \n\n\n",
"Pill bottles and a failed marriage\nThat fail to realize I'm not listening\n67 can be a brutal age when you've been trying to die\nSince 22.\n\nEmotions have subsided \nand I'm left with a void\nflashes remind me of who I was but somehow\nI don't believe it.\n\nI never loved which brings me to wonder\nwhy I'm loved, someone is insane and it might be me\nbut I suspect both sides are equally equipped\nfor madness.\n\nThe dog wanders into the room with pill bottle in mouth\nI think he wants me to know that I need this\nbut He doesn't need me but he sticks around \nand even someone as soulless as myself can appreciate\nthe dog's inclinations.\n\nThe dog is more human than I\nFor how human is a killer with dead gooks from\nthe 69 campaign on mind.\n\nFor a time I was god but\nI suppose that my time is up and now someone else is playing god\nfor I know the time is nigh, a learned ability\nfrom my time as the destroyer of worlds.\n\nYes, I feel it.\nThe dog drops the pill bottle in front of me and \nI know it's time but, alas, I feel hesitant\nperhaps because part of me is mortal\njust as those who were cut down by my M16\non a trail of hamburger hill.\n\nThe jets are coming and the smoke has been popped only this time I didn't pop the smoke, it must be the other god in the forest who\nis unrelenting with their criticism of my decision to destroy then create which\nis why I've decided to destroy before they.\n\nI empty the pill bottle and the dog smiles for \nI've made my final autonomous decision and the last 7 minutes of consciousness \nare glorious as nightfalls on my body, soul, and universe.\n\nA glorious ball of fire shines down one last time on my bones,\nleaving me to reminisce of napalm and an agent by the name of orange,\nsuch devastation is rarely this poetic or beautiful.",
"A thousand teardrops \nBecome forged into a blade \nThat thirsts for vengeance \n",
"It Won’t Happen to Me\n\nI remember sitting on cold bleachers,\n\nlistening to some guy with a collared shirt\n\ntalking about his ‘horrible mistake’\n\nand how many people he hurt and blah blah blah\n\nuntil it became background noise as I kicked dirt off my shoes.\n\nI knew it wouldn’t happen to me.\n\n.\n\nI remember loud pounding music, like a heartbeat,\n\nand feeling alive and excited and slightly nauseous,\n\nbumping up against strangers—or friends? Could be friends,\n\nI don’t remember, so it must have been awesome—\n\nand I wasn’t afraid, or even nervous. I was only alive \n\nin a spinning world because here,\n\nI was in control, \n\nhere,\n\nI made the rules,\n\nhere,\n\nAnd nothing mattered but here, \n\nso nothing could happen to me.\n\n.\n\nI remember it in a cycle,\n\nBlurred lights, laughter, some fights,\n\nhangovers, pulsing music, crazy pictures, tons of fun\n\none day, the next, the next, and again, and again,\n\nand \n\nnothing happened to me.\n\n.\n\nI remember only a little of the night\n\nwhen the road swam in my vision,\n\nlike it sometimes did,\n\nand streetlights—or car lights?—flashed by \n\nlike paparazzi cameras catching my high.\n\nIt made me laugh, which made the ground dance,\n\nAnd I saw a light was red.\n\nStrange color for paparazzi.\n\nAs was the blinding silver streak.\n\nThere was crashing sounds, the scream of metal,\n\nmaybe not metal,\n\nand I slammed my head on the steering wheel,\n\nfell out a twisted door more dizzy than ever before, \n\nconfused; the loud noises of the crash gave way to \n\nSilence.\n\nLike death.\n\n.\n\nI remember seeing a redheaded girl encased in silver\n\nonly, they tell me she was blond,\n\nI remember more flashes of light,\n\nblinding, confusing lights,\n\nred-white-blue-white-red-blue-red-red-red\n\nstrobe lights from hell,\n\nand silence killed by a wailing song \n\nand shouting crowds.\n\nI don’t remember much,\n\nhow they cut her from the car,\n\nand the car out of her,\n\nhow they pulled up the white sheet\n\nand it turned red as it touched her,\n\nIt all blurred like it wasn’t happening, \n\nand I don’t remember much.\n\n.\n\nI hate myself for that; I hate myself more \n\nfor my relief that I can’t recall.\n\nBut most of all I hate myself \n\nbecause I was right;\n\nit didn’t happen to me.",
"She danced across the water\n\nWith her furs in black and white\n\nAnd called the house a carnival\n\nNever more, she counted twice\n\nOn the shores of Lake Mendota\n\nIn front of seven worlds\n\nShe calls out to the wind\n\nNever more"
] |
[
1,
2,
2,
2,
2,
3,
5,
5
] |
[
"1448666784",
"1448645081",
"1448648991",
"1448653669",
"1448657473",
"1448640849",
"1448641183",
"1448643358"
] |
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