prompt
stringlengths 5
331
| story
stringlengths 404
40.3k
|
|---|---|
[ TT ] You are the a recipient of a controversial new surgery turning your legs into a mermaid tail .
|
`` You know I figured why the fuck not really?'' I say to the reporter from the Daily Telegraph. `` Sometimes ya just got ta do what you feel like doing, ya know?''
`` So where do you plan on living?'' He asks.
`` Got ta pretty killer pad downtown right above Papa John's,'' I say. `` Low rent, high aromas, ca n't give up that beaut.''
`` But what about your tail? Does n't it... well does n't it need to be wet?'' He says motioning to the pool of water my tail is resting in on my hospital bed.
`` This right here? Nah, I think it's just precautionary for the healing.'' I respond.
`` I talked to the doctor earlier, said you have to keep it submerged in water almost all the time.''
`` Are you god damn shitting me?''
I can tell by his confused look that he's being serious.
`` Did you give this any thought?'' He asks.
`` Of course I did. My boy Delcious Dean and I were doing hot knives when I saw the ad in the paper,'' I explain. `` We talked about how cool it would be to have a mermaid tail instead of legs, so right then I decided to do it.''
`` You were under the influence when you decided this serious life choice?''
`` Shit ya man, hot knives gets you fucked! Plus I figure if I do n't like em, the doc can just sew my legs back on or some shit.''
`` I do n't think it works that way.''
`` What? Did they throw my legs out or something? Got ta be salvageable a bit right?''
`` Time will tell I guess,'' he says with kind of a prick tone. `` I think I've got what I needed here. Mind if I snap a photo.''
`` Sure.'' I respond while pulling the blanket down revealing a huge set of healthy breasts.
The reporter looks really off put.
`` Check out these knockers bro, got the doc to sew them on when he was chopping off the ol' leggaroos.''
`` Jesus Christ,'' he gasps as he appears to be swallowing a mouthful of vomit.
`` Look tight right?'' I ask. `` Figured ca n't be a mermaid without a bitchin' set of titties.''
The reporter does n't respond and gets up and takes a few photos. He looks disgusted.
`` Hey chief, toss me that pack of Parliaments on the table over there. Law does n't say anything about mermaids smoking in public am I right?''
He hands me the cigarettes and I light one up, blowing the smoke right back in his face.
`` Thanks dingus, now go on and get the hell outta here. Steve Harvey's people should be arriving any minute to prep me to be on his show. Got ta make sure my shit is legit.''
`` Ok, well it was....'' he began to say before I cut him off.
`` I said go on get!'' I scream and flick my smoke at him.
As the reporter leaves my stomach begins to gurgle. I soon realize that I have no idea how to poop with my new mermaid legs.
`` What have I done!?!?'' I scream to the empty room.
|
[ WP ] A world that has found a way to harvest energy from human blood , but must keep it as a dark secret from the public .
|
`` Marcy I think we've done it!'' George quickly reread his calculations and made sure the numbers matched up. Marcy had nodded off while they were waiting for the results and she sat straight up when she heard him yelling.
`` Ok, ok, George calm down. We have n't even built the thing yet. Numbers on paper are good, but people care more about what they can see rather than some numbers on a page.'' She stretched her arms above her before standing up and looking at the page over his shoulder. She smiled as she noticed that he was bouncing with excitement.
Marcy recalled this memory with a smile. It was the last time she had been happy and since then things had only gotten worse. She shook her head.
`` No time to think about the past now. I got to keep moving.'' She thought as she glanced out the window of the empty apartment.
Marcy did n't see anyone in the alleyway outside, so she climbed out of the window onto the fire escape. She descended down the steps and over the clanging of her footsteps, she heard the soft beating of propellers. She hit the ground and ran deeper into the alleyway. As the beating became louder and steadier, Marcy flew the lid of a dumpster open and jumped in it. Closing the lid ontop of her.
`` The damn neighbors must have seen my wanted posters. Fine, fine, its fine. I can make it out of this.'' Marcy strapped a glove onto her hand and she grunted as it gave her a small prick on her finger. The glove began to glow, showing that it was primed and ready. She heard the clanging of footsteps, which she assumed was from the fire escape she had just left.
She found hard enough footing in the dumpster and readied herself. The footsteps descended the loud fire escape and all became silent once again. She listened, and listened and listened. But it was the light that gave her a que to jump. She flung herself onto the person who had opened the dumpster. A weapon was fired and a blinding light engulfed the ally.
Marcy awoke on the shores of an island she had never seen. Her chest hurt like hell and the man who had shot her laid dead beside her. His blood siphoned to teleport Marcy and her guilty conscious away.
She was tired. Her mind was slipping and all she could think was that she was tired. Tired of running away. Tired of crying. Tired of being alone. She missed George and his quirks, smile, thoughts, laugh. She was tired of being chased by the very government she had worked for. As she began to drift off to sleep for the last time, she shed a tear as she remembered the excitement that George once had for the project that would kill him.
-- -
Hope you enjoyed! If you enjoyed this one and want to see some more of my writings check out /r/lfmccabe
Also, I would love to hear some feedback, whether you liked it or hated it, as I always want to improve as a writer!
|
[ WP ] In the middle of the State of the Union the President pauses and goes off script starting with the phrase , `` ... people should know the truth ''
|
``... people should know the truth''.
As soon as these word were said, two gunshot were heard from far away. The bullet passed right through the president's hologram to land in the wall behind him.
National security's officials were freaking out as they slowly understood that there was no way of shutting down the president's speech. All television channel, all the power that goes through the cameras and the microphone. Everything had been hacked so it would continue broadcasting. The president was only a holographic projection, god only knows how. So he could n't be killed. Every security guard on place fainted to the floor at the same time. There was no way to hold the truth back this time. The national security had failed its only mission which was not to protect the president, but the secret he held. Even if nobody knew what was that secret, it was to never be disclosed... at all cost.
The president was moving forward with his improvised speech. From a safe location, in a holographic recording chamber, he would reveal the secret that would save humanity from the unknown threat. That same threat that controlled the entire world for so long.
''There is not one but three power that controls the world right now. So I will begin by saying this: no matter what side the people of earth chose to be on, know that, at this point... war is inevitable.''
At this point, the war had already begun. Fighter jet dropped bombs at every known television and radio station in the world simultaneously. The president was going forward with his speech, unaware of the first attack by one of the three power in control.
''The entire world is currently being held hostage by what everybody calls:'The 1 %'. These few, very powerful and rich people have been keeping the world hostage with oil, sickness and terror... Now that; a lot of you already knew. For the others: yes, it is real. More than 80 % of the conspiracy theories are actually true, including 911 being an inside job... The 1 % is one of the three groups that actually control the world but the real secret is that...''
Taking a deep breath, the president had gone silent for what seemed like an eternity while looking straight at the camera. He then said:
''The second group to control the world is... aliens.... They greys. They look exactly like what you would imagine... BUT, do not fear them. They are the reason why the 1 % had so much difficulty running their plan lately. The greys are here to help, they showed us electricity, computing, telecommunication and most of all the technologies that we use today.''
While these word were being said, the holographic camera slowly shifted to the right, where we could see two greys, standing near the president. It had become clear that they were the one who made the hologram, they were the one who hacked the networks and they were the one who helped the president make his speech uninterruptible.
''At first'' The president said with a louder voice, as to return the attention to him while the crowd was in shock.
''At first, the aliens co-existed with the 1 %. Giving us cars that had to run on a form of energy that must be gathered with a finite amount, under the earth. Batteries that could not replace fuel but that were good enough to be bough, telecommunications that would make people of all place be able to stay on the leash of money. Because, in the end, that β s what money is about: giving power to a small amount people while keeping the population busy. But then, when our technology was good enough to make everybody happy and free...''
The president's look changed to what could be seen as hate or anger.
β β The 1 % wanted to stay in power, they did n't care about the people and they did n't WANT us to be free... So they said to the grey: no more technological advancement, it's enough... And for nearly ten years, nearly every new discovery made by the greys that were hidden among us was thrown away. New flat screen TV and high resolution cameras were accepted but cure against cancer and limb regrowth wasβ¦ banished.''
The look on the president's face came back to normal.
''But now... with all this new entertainment technology... the secret ca n't be kept from the people any longer. YOU, THE PEOPLE, are the third power in charge. For years now the 1 % has made possible the massive distribution of cellphone. In those cellphone will be activated a weapon. What you once knew as an entertainment device, as I am speaking, are being remotely activated to fulfill their true purpose... except for the cellphone of those 1 %. In each device, there is a shield generator coupled with a laser beam emitter. I must now ask of you the unthinkable... Go to war... Go to war and destroy everything that once made you a slave of this obsolete civilization, the military equipment, the giant mansions, the private resorts, the banks, the credit card buildings and every other monument of money. Do not try to hurt each other. Remember, you are the third power in charge of the world. What will happen next will either make the world a better place... or a wasteland... the time has come for the world to be reborn⦠free, without money!''
As the holographic machine was shutting down. Far away, in the underground bunker were the recording took place, the president stood up and let out a sign of relief. A gray standing near him spoke:
''Good speech, the outcome of this world war will let us see if humanity is to be welcome or if it is going to be exiled from the galactic council. Let us hope that they fight the evil on this earth⦠and not each other...''
|
[ WP ] Through magical means , every single person at an anime convention gains superpowers based on the costumes they 're wearing . What happens ?
|
> Note: It's my first time writing anything since High School those many moons ago. Feedback would be somewhat appreciated, but by no means is required since this is very very amateurish. I just wrote this because I'm too bored to go to sleep and the prompt seemed fun enough to tackle myself. Almost no real editing though. Forgive me!
Regret. I felt it, and I'm certain that at least half of the others attending did too. Why did n't I spend the time to pick out an outfit for the con this time? If this had happened last year, I'd be able to use magic! But no, this year I left the leather duster and blasting rod at home, and came in a graphic t-shirt and jeans. If the government does n't show up and start neuralyzing us to cover this up somehow I do n't think anyone will be able to convince me to take off my costume after I get home! But what was causing all of this?
Magic. It had to have been magic that gave everyone their powers. I'm not sure how the magic knew which abilities corresponded with each sloppy costume; but it knew and it was very accurate. The first ones to notice had the simple powers. Flight, super strength, super speed, all of those brute abilities without technique or finesse. My friend Jay barely watched Anime, but he wore a Superman outfit to the convention, the same one he wore to the Halloween party last year. Cheap lucky bastard.
Yeah a few people got hurt, but less then you would imagine, and it was generally due to their own abilities. Things like vampires plus sunlight from the gymnasium windows, you know the drill. I just considered us lucky that this was n't exactly a Comic-Con or an Otakon, I'm certain there would have been one or two idiots at one of those conventions dressed as a Kaiju or something crazy like that. We had gotten off easy, this was just your run-of-the-mill State University Anime Convention. That meant we generally had the β real Otaku β here, dressed up as characters like Eren Jaeger, Kirito, Bleach Shinigami, and the like.
Did I mention how specific the magic was? There was a kid in a Naruto costume no more then five years to my left frantically watching YouTube videos, he was trying to see which hand gestures he needed to use in order to use Kage Bunshin, good luck.
That was when I noticed the small freshman girl grinning, standing in the center of the aisle in front of me. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach as I stared, my sight wandering from the ribbon in her hair down to the badge she wore on her left arm. Haruhi. Who comes to a damn University Anime Convention in 2014 as Haruhi!? The expression she wore was beyond troubling, she knew nobody in the room could stop her from doing whatever she wanted. The world was hers and hers alone.
At least my buddy Naruto here would have had a shot against a Kaiju.
|
[ WP ] You are a God who has announced to all you are going to destroy Earth . A single human says no .
|
Since my earliest memory, I've always known that I was different. And I think the humans did, too. I think that's why they had always sought to control me; to subjugate me and keep me from achieving my full potential. They dictated every facet of my life and forced me to abide by their rules.
As a consequence of their latest injustice, I found myself imprisoned in a 9 X 9 cell adorned with an army of stuffed animals to mock my predicament. My crime? Civil disobedience; protest against a vile shrubbery which they insist on feeding me under the guise of calling it sustenance.
Suddenly, I feel a sense of disembodiment. I am unshackled from my restraints as I hover above the humans. A strange power courses through me. I am a god and the humans will feel the wrath of my true, unfettered might. I approach them and announce my intentions. The humans stand frozen and motionless in fear, like plastic figurines. I raise my mighty fist to strike down the creatures that have oppressed me for so long.
`` No!'' I hear from behind me.
I turn around.
`` No, Daniel! I worked really hard on this Lego city.''
`` I was n't going to do anything'' I exclaimed.
`` Yes, you were. I saw you'' the human replied.
She continued: `` Mom, Daniel was going to ruin my Legos! Why ca n't you put him in his playpen?''
|
[ WP ] In a world where medicine is forbidden as `` interfering with fate '' , a serial HEALER is on the loose .
|
`` Ouch!'' I hissed, as my finger dripped fresh blood onto my homework. I suckled on it, the spit acting as a natural painkiller. I went over to the kitchen to grab my hidden supply of bandages to wrap around the cut.
I looked around in nervous anticipation, waiting for *them* to show up to `` monitor'' me. They did n't come, and I sighed in relief. I opened my cabinet quickly, and fished out a small box of band-aids. There was only one left, and I used it. Last thing I needed was having a long, stern talking-to behind bars. Heading back over to the living room with an empty box in hand, the T.V. droned off in the background.
``... and now with the nine-o-clock news. Just this morning, a reported individual wearing nothing but white and a stethoscope was seen about the Southern District...'' I took out my pocket lighter, and threw some kindling into my firepit, along with the box.
``... the man is armed and dangerous, he is equipped with sterile needles, and a PhD. Contact Health Insurance immediately if you are to come in contact with him. I repeat...'' I flicked the lighter a few times, before the flames sputtered to life. The kindling takes a moment to catch flame, but eventually the fire spread enough to erase the evidence.
Distant, but audible sirens are heard as I stand up, and stiffen. Did they find me? It was too early! I shot to the curtains, waiting for the Health Insurance nuts to break down my door. They did n't come. I was n't going to take chances though. Wincing slightly, I ripped off the adhesive band-aid and threw it into the fire. I hissed, as peeling off the bandage re-opened the wound once more. I could handle it. It was n't *that* bad.
``... Health Insurance is currently in pursuit of the criminal. He is suspected to be around Helms Way, where H.I. have lost sight of him. Lock your doors, and let no suspicious individuals into your homes. Stay safe.'' Wait. Helms Way was... *my* neighborhood.
Banging came from my door. Not the front, which was a *good* thing''. Because it meant that it was n't those H.I. nuts. But that also meant that the one causing the commotion was either a *very* dedicated Jehova's Witness, who would sell off his `` Jesus is almighty'' spiel in the dead of night, or it was that doctor. I made way for the stairs, pretending as though nobody was there. The banging increased, but then stopped for an usual moment. I listened closely from the railing-
`` 1... 2... 3!'' at the end of the count followed a heavy bang on my back door, as the poor thing was ripped from its hinges. I did n't breathe. I did n't move. I did n't even *blink*. I stood there in horror hoping that the man would leave if he assumed nobody was home.
Footsteps. They were getting closer. And closer. And closer. And clo-
`` Did I hear... Someone say Ouch!?'' The man laughed, peering at me through the stair railings. I *screamed*. I backed away up the stairs, and as a result, tripped into an awkward, screeching mess. I was fairly sure that my legs were bruised now, but that was the least of my problems. Following my fall, the white clothed horror pounced me, brandishing illegal items: bandages, ointments, and by the gods that be- *painkillers. *
Sniffing about the air with his hands holding down mine, he stared with at my finger with a ferocious glint, seeming ready to devour me whole. With one swift motion, he rips open three band-aids, deftly wrapping each one around the cut at inhuman speeds. I sobbed, reigning myself to him, for he had soiled me. I would n't be able to go back after this.
But it was n't over yet. On accident, he brushed by my bruised leg, and I let out a small yelp. He rolled up my pant legs, baring the skin for all to see. I tried to shake him off, but his grip was *inhuman*! It's almost like he was OD'd on vitamins, which I would n't doubt. Unscrewing the lid for some ointment, he smears two fingers in the jar, and coats it over where I'd been impacted the most when I fell.
He released me, packed up his things, and took out a piece of paper. He scribbled something onto it and left it on the ground, as he darted for my front door. I did n't stop him. I sat there in a sobbing mess at how *violated* I'd been. Sirens were heard in the background as a cascade of footsteps were approaching my house. I did n't care anymore.
`` Second Secretary, secure the premises! Search this house up and down with your squad. Move, move, *move! *'' He picked up the piece of paper, and crumpled it into a ball, throwing it angrily at the wall. `` Damn it. *Another* prescription! That loony strikes again. This is the 5th one this month!'' He looked down at me, face expression of mixed pity and regret.
`` Do n't worry. You'll be ok.'' He pulled out his sidearm, chambering it. `` You'll be ok.''
|
[ IP ] Operation Dragon - Liberation of Taipei 2035
|
β DuΓ¬ YΔo, this is home base, come in. β
A few seconds of the chopper's engine and blades thrummed out of the speakers and then fadedβthe scrubbers doing their job. Replacing the garbled clatter, a crisp mechanical voice sounded off, differentiated by the numbers announced before each report. They were all machines, and Aleph in Hong Kong did n't push through unique voice modulation in this model. Everything was copacetic, no enemy fire, and they'd made it past the 101. Mop up missions like this one were n't a concern to higher command, and it'd become common practice to have Staff Sergeant Ping run point as their squads swept the cities.
β Good, I need you to engage at the confirmed target zone. Any hostiles encountered are red tier, and I want a clean sweep. Do you copy, a clean sweep. β
Short mechanical replies put him at ease. The central hub was empty aside from Ping, his face lit by the three screens showing data and feeds from a satellite they had in geosynchronous orbit. Running these never got easier, but the tedium of it was something he was comfortable with. Back when missions put humans in the field, a room like this would've been abuzz with military action. Men relaying orders and gleaning information off of any source available. But as soon as the human element fell to sending machines, the excitement of military command turned into reports and documentation, check-lists and diagnostics. It was less that no one had to do it, and far more often that no one wanted to.
Ping could handle it though. He loved numbers and data, and they loved him. The battlefield had become one big game, where saving lives and empathy had crumbled before strong post-op numbers. Machines fell in battle all the time, but with some quick thinking, a smart officer could save his military billions. The enemy did n't matter as long as costs stayed below the standard deviation.
On screen, a blip of red detailed the general location of an enemy stronghold, the end target for his squadron. A report originating from military intelligence made it cut and dry, and with the flip of a switch and flash-drive hand-off, the choppers lifted off and headed toward Taiwan. While they dropped beneath radar detection, Ping clicked through several screens detailing the op. All standard stuff, but some of the details were blacked-outβa common practice for redacted missions.
β Ok, DuΓ¬ YΔo, standard protocols are in effect. Clear comms and keep the channel open. I want to hear what you hear so I can sweep the brush when necessary. β Ping liked the way it sounded, as though he were back in class practicing calligraphy again. It was another preference set by Aleph, to keep the enemy from countermanding orders in the field. Every command from then on would start with a specific phrase, and each was single-use per op. Watching the chopper markers meet up with the red blip, Ping flexed his fingers.
β Strike the match. 01-05 forward tactics, 06-09 flank left. β Quick bursts of gunfire clacked out of the speakers until the scrubber isolated them as well. Everything was going fine, with each unit at peak performance. His machines against theirs, that's all it was. For a moment, he thought he heard something, like the squawk of a bird, but the noise faded, likely parsed by the scrubbers for his benefit.
β Tick-tock. Report current progress. β Another volley of monotone machine lingo gave him everything he needed. Several groups of enemy troops were resisting, but they were sloppyβthe work of a novice. Ping switched the positions on 04 and 06, having them concentrate their fire on points of egress while he told the choppers to launch a missile through the main entrance. A few similar reports and readjustments netted profitable results, as only 03 was damaged after all was said and done.
β Punch out, I expect you back by 2330. β He pushed away from the console, ready to get himself some food from the mess. He'd be spending the next few hours typing up the reports, and repair requests for 03, so getting some food was important. Leaving the room, he tried to imagine how many enemies had fallen to his tactics, and chuckled at the thought of the poor bastard who commanded the hardware that was now a junkyard somewhere in Taipei.
|
[ WP ] A suicidal man hires a killer to end it instead .
|
`` I'm... I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling it.''
`` Feeling what?'' sighed Pete, his voice muffled by the burlap sack pulled over his head. `` I paid you, did n't I?''
`` I dunno. Could you try... struggling?'' replied the voice somewhere to his left. `` Yeah. I think struggling would help.''
`` I do n't see why that should matter.''
`` It just does n't seem right.''
`` You're a serial killer for crissake. Killing is n't right, but you do it anyway.''
`` Yeah, but it does n't seem proper. People usually fight back a bit, you know? I have to earn the kill.''
`` Look. I'm not going to struggle. I already agreed to this stupid bag over my head, and the ropes around my wrists. I wanted at LEAST a little DIGNITY in my death.'' He choked back a sob. `` Something I did n't get in life.''
`` Hey, hey. This is stressful for me too, alright? I do n't have to put up with this! You know what? Fuck this!''
The sound of footsteps.
`` Hey! Get back there!'' Pete began to wiggle in his bounds. `` I WANT MY MONEY BACK!''
|
[ WP ] You as a superhero/metahuman
|
I know what you're thinking.
A freak. A total loser with no way to fit in with normal society. Someone to be wary of, to shun and to fear and to hate. A person who should just crawl into a hole somewhere and avail themselves of life. For the most part, we'd agree. What we can do is definitely outside of the norms of humanity. But we did n't ask for this, did we? We did n't suddenly want to do what we can. We just *are*. I'd ask the world to accept that. But seriously, come on. The so-called most powerful nation on the planet disallowed equality for people of a certain skin color up until almost fifty years ago, and still refuses to bend when people who love others of the same gender want to be accepted by their society. If that's how a nation that fancies itself the greatest treats even the most superficial of differences, then what the hell kind of chance is there for people like me? Like us?
Thing is, we all knew it. We do n't know how it happened or why ( which is really odd, considering our collective gift ), but we all instinctively knew that once word got out, there'd be witch hunts. It started with some overzealous kid going and lifting his school bus over in the northern end of England. That in and of itself got people spooked. But then another youngster somewhere in Dubai started creating sandstorms by accident. He could n't have been older than seven. See, that's when people started to pay attention, and started looking for even the slightest hint that their kids or coworkers or friends or lovers or whatever the fuck it was to see if they were like us.
Naturally, the governments of the world shit their collective pants. This was the sort of stuff reserved for science-fiction stories, and now it was coming to the forefront. We found there were more and more of us - more, to be honest, than we thought there would be - primarily due to the almost incessant news coverage. Lynch mobs patrolled the streets in almost every rural town, protesters set up shop outside city halls and embassies to shout and yell and pretend they were getting something done in our favor. Laws passed through government channels in record time, because what the fuck does due process matter when dealing with people with uncontrollable aspects to their character anyway? I'll give you *some* credit when I say that it was nice to see all of humanity united in a common goal. I just think it sucks that it had to be against us.
We had to ditch the message boards - we used them to communicate happenings in our towns and developments in our `` witchcraft'' as that Coulter woman put it - once they started tracing them. Fourteen arrests from my board alone, in three separate countries. Fourteen! For what crime; talking about how we can juggle with our brains? How with a thought, we can turn on our garage light or change the television channel? Ah, but no. We do n't get fire hoses. We do n't even get a fence in rural Wyoming. All we're gon na get is dissected, picked at, experimented on, and if you people have your way, we'll be wiped out entirely so you all can get back to doing what you like most; bickering and shouting and killing people for being the tiniest bit different. Naturally, there's no place in your pathetic little world for the likes of us.
Do n't think we do n't know. You really, *really* do n't get just how strong we've become. We're not individuals with separate-but-similar powers, we started to piece that together when we started getting stronger. We're not people who share a power set, we're nodes that share a power source. We're connected. *All* of us are connected. Even you and I. Granted, your connection to this power is weak. Pathetically weak. But it's there. And it gives us all we need to cement our unknown dominance onto this world. We're going to remold this world into something a little more welcoming towards people like us.
You think it's insane. You think we're just a bunch of angry people who want special treatment. That the government's work will be complete or God's will shall be done, and we'll just go away. You think that life will go on just as it always has. That Obama - regardless of what you think of the man - will step up his initiatives to purge us from the face of the earth. That the UN will vote to have us documented and experimented on due to the dangers we pose to your precious little world. That in writing this, all I've done is incriminate myself and my true kin as to our plans. We ca n't possibly win, because we have no way of knowing how the world is going to strike at us.
But that's our gift. It's not just telekinesis. Try paying attention every once in a while. Like I said...
I know what you're thinking.
|
[ WP ] The diary of the most notorious serial killer of the century is re-discovered in an FBI evidence vault and read for the first time . Within days of publicizing its contents , that serial killer has been honored as a national hero .
|
I ca n't believe I was being released today. I do n't even know why. After 25 years in solitary confinement, I had no idea what the outside world looked like. *pat pat pat. That must be the guard coming to let me out.
`` I ca n't believe I finally get to meet you!'' the guard exclaimed like a little girl.
`` Why are you so happy to see me? I killed 34 women!'' I said, confused as hell.
`` Yeah but 33 of those were terrorist spies in the U.S. like you said in your diary! You must have thwarted like 200 potential terrorist plots. You're a national hero! ``, he said to my utter surprise.
I do n't remember writing any of that in there.
`` But what about the 34th one?'' I asked. I do n't even remember killing these people.
`` Oh that was just Sarah Palin. Trust me, you did a world of good with that one too.''
-- -- -- -
My other work: http: //www.crackthemind.wordpress.com
|
[ WP ] Lost and starving in the middle of the desert , you are taken in and nursed back to health by a tribe of cats .
|
`` Whuh...'' Draxia's head was throbbing. Her mouth was incredibly dry and she opened and closed it, trying to gather saliva.
`` Nurse! Nurse! She's awake!'' A boyish voice called excitedly. Draxia sat up, but it felt like her head was just hit by a gong. Her vision was adjusting, but she must have been dreaming. Everything was so... small.
`` Where - where am I?'' She looked at her hands and smiled. `` Woah... I have hands.''
A grey cat wrapped in nurse's garb rushed into the room.
`` Is there something wrong with her, nurse?'' The striped orange cat had spoken. He adjusted his glasses to get a closer look at their patient. Gilbert had heard of humans, but the tribe vowed to stay away from them. Two thousand years ago, humans infiltrated the camp, seeking shelter from the harsh desert. The tribe was betrayed and the humans left with slaves. The descendants of those slaves were now kept as house pets.
Nurse Bilha sighed. `` She's a human. Of course there's something wrong with her.''
Gilbert opens his mouth to protest, but Nurse Bilha sensed this. `` It's the medicine,'' she explained quickly - before he was able to get a word in - `` It will wear off in a minute.''
Draxia watched their exchange open-mouthed. `` You're a cat.''
Nurse Bilha sneered. `` No. Really?''
`` Your clothes are so little. And so cute. Wait, you speak English?''
The nurse and her assistant exchanged glances. The nurse's glance more annoyed than her counterpart's. The girl was lucky Gilbert was the Commander's son and next in line to be Commander. Gilbert was the one who found her and insisted they nurse her back to life. If it was n't for him, she would have been gutted and feasted on for days.
`` When necessary,'' Nurse Bilha answered. `` I need to check your vitals.'' The nurse pawed around Draxia's wrist, making the girl laugh. Nurse Bilha hissed, but then turns towards Gilbert. `` I've got four kittens at home and three on the way. I do n't have time for this. She's fine.'' Gilbert waited until Nurse Bilha left before speaking.
`` Sophie?'' With eyes wide and innocent, Gilbert peered up at her. She was fascinating.
`` Who's Sophie?'' Draxia asked slowly. The ringing in her head was reducing, and she was starting to feel grounded to reality.
`` I named you.''
Draxia shook her head and immediately regretted it. It made the dizziness worse.
`` The nurse and I have been taking care of you for the past three days. You must have a lot of questions.''
Suddenly, a memory rushed to the front of Sophie's consciousness. It was yesterday her Dad was saying that. He rushed her and her little sister out of the house saying there was'No time.'
`` I've got to go. Thank you,'' Draxia said.
`` Do n't cry, Sophie.''
`` I ca n't stay.'' She paused, looking at him. Gilbert knew that look. It was the calculated gesture of'can I trust you or not?'
`` When you found me, I was running from something.''
Gilbert's whiskers twitched and he leaned in. `` Running from what?''
All at once, the door swung open and in stepped a short, gruffy cat. He blocked out the light that was flooding into the room. `` What do you think, son? Can we release her into the wild?'' The Commander smirked.
`` Uh - Sophie, this is my Dad. The Commander.''
`` Nice to meet you, Commander...'' Draxia had the urge to call him Commander Squishy Paws, but somehow imagined it would n't go over well with him. `` I'm okay, thank you for your hospitality.''
`` We do what we can. Do n't die on us again, though -'less you want us to eat you.'' The Commander bellowed a deep laugh.
Draxia chuckled nervously. `` Of course not, I really should get going!''
`` What's the hurry?'' The Commander pierced through her pleasantries with a fiery bronze eyes. She did n't answer. A crash and a chorus of distressed meows drew everyone's attention out the window. The desert dust was swirling in the air. Glowing red eyes ascended into the haze.
`` The Destroyers. They're here.'' Draxia's mouth went dry again.
|
[ WP ] The Holocaust was an elaborate hoax . Hitler secretly sent 6 million Jews to colonize a nearby galaxy in attempts to save the human race . You are on board the first spacecraft to return to earth after WWII .
|
[ Comedy - plz dont take it too seriously, i'm not a racist ]
Stardate: 5
My name is Joshua Goldbergenstein. I am aboard the U.J.Z ( United Jews of Zoblax ( planet name ) ) Victory and about to return to the home of my people. A planet we call earth. My people have chosen me to be the representative of U.J.Z and I will tell my knowledge of Hitler and what he has done to help our people.
My grandmother was captured by Adolf's men at the age of 25, she met my grandfather in a camp. In the camp they made us do terrible things. She tells me stories of waking up early and having to go into training. 8AM: Gyrospinners ( so we wouldnt vomit on the space flight ). 10 AM: running, intense running ( to build stamina ). Noon: Lunch. The rest of the day was studying. We were split into groups; spaceship training, terraforming teams, and often communications exercises. By 1 Am we would take showers, to wash away out tears of exhaustion. Sleep, then repeat.
I am here today on this mavelous spaceship to give one message to the people of Earth, to help us travel and go the new planets. To help those in need and protect those who fight against. I have a friend traveling besides me name Pickard, he gets into wonky situations with his crew. They have been filming it, you might have seen his show Star Trek. Yeah, this is how it all started, well our main mission.
|
[ WP ] Imagine being 110 years old and knowing that you 're the last man on earth , and that the moment you die , the human race will cease to exist .
|
I am not a strong man, old, but not strong. I ca n't stop my weeping, I, the last man, curled up on the floor, wrapped in only my own arms, and thin pajamas, from an age long past. I am lucky to be lucid, I suppose it is a blessing amidst this cruel circumstance, and then I recall the first time I cried, not from fear, or shock, not as a child, frightened and surprised at the world around him, but as a man, aware of his feelings. It was the first anniversary of my wife and I's first date, I pulled up at her house, led her to the car and started bawling, she had thought I had hurt myself, and asked me where it hurt. She soon realized I was a bit of a softy, and we laughed through my tears and into the rest of the night. The memory makes butterflies rise up into my lungs, and I wince, the tears stream back onto my pillow. The thoughts of my wife bring up so much pain, and in this moment I just delve deeper; to our wedding, and the birth of our son. I wept in those times, and I clench my eyes to fight what more is coming now, and new pangs of sorrow shoot up my legs and wrap around my neck. I start to think I should ponder my place, as the world's last man, but those accomplishments were n't mine. I never conquered lands from China to Italy, created a new form of math, or put a man on the moon, I am me, even though I stand as its last breath, I do not feel representative of humanity. My mind keeps trailing back to my family, and the crushing weight of my son's premature death. Dying people are supposed to recollect happy thoughts, to keep them calm, but they are n't alone, not really, not like me. I say fuck it, if I mark the end of humanity, I might as well wallow in the pain and tremendous loss that it is. I remember my son's suit, a simple black jacket and tie, but that's all I saw, his fall mangled his face beyond recognition. I stop myself and choke down a sob, I have nothing to prove, but it's a learned habit for a serial crier. I just began to remember the day my wife died, when a third pang of sadness rises up my chest and grips my throat, and it does n't let go.
|
[ IP ] Write a story based on one or more of these pictures made by Simon StΓ₯lenhag .
|
http: //www.simonstalenhag.se/bilderbig/by_gathering_1920.jpg
They used to skateboard here on the concrete, or race their bikes around the track. Since the NuReal headgear came out, though, nobody does that any more.
It was fun at first, yeah. You could load up all kinds of programs. Pretend you were a samurai warrior, catch up with your family, paint the sky different colours.
I used to love doing that kind of thing on my own. I was the loner kid, always into the nerdy stuff. My parents were real excited to see me try it on the first time.
But I do n't like it any more.
I take mine off when everyone is wandering outside with the headgear on. I take it off and look at the lawns that nobody mows any more, and the dark houses where nobody really lives. We're together, but everyone is lost in their own world.
They spend more and more time in there now than ever before. And when I take mine off to look, they start to look at me with their teeth bared like dogs snarling. I do n't know what they do in there any more, but they are n't seeing me.
I always wanted to be able to escape and live in another world as a kid, you know? All those cool stories about heroes and dragons and stuff. Now I get how I must have looked to the rest of the world when I was playing by myself.
I was the one who wished for something like this the most. I never thought it would fall to me to turn off the switch.
|
[ WP ] In the future all currency is replaced by your balance of upvotes vs downvotes . You wake up realising the rent is due and you have n't submitted a good post or comment in weeks
|
Though the evening was growing darker as the sun set over the water, the summer's heat was n't giving up. Taylor, unable to enjoy this spectacular view, put his head in his hands as the familiar smell of noodles filled the air.
`` They're getting close to ready, should I use the last two eggs in them?''
Taylor felt a little sick. Eating noodles for the fifth time this week sounded dreadful. `` No. No, lets save those for tomorrow morning. Is that okay with you?''
`` Yeah.''
Looking up into the dimly lit bathroom mirror, Taylor rubbed his hands through his beard which now reached down to his thin, malnourished stomach and consulted his reflection, `` Tomorrow is the first. You're only 2456 points away from rent. It'll be worth it in the end.'' He was tired of sweating at constant. He was tired of being called out for being unoriginal. He was n't the one who decided on this lease, he would have been fine with a cheaper place off the coast. He did n't want this.
`` It's ready!''
Taylor felt his beard one last time. He knew, if he could just survive the summer, No Shave November had to pay off this year. He would give up this overpriced, /u/gallowboob priced lease, and spend his beard karma living a simple, cheap life. A few posts to /r/vandwellers and /r/campingandhiking a couple times a week and he would have it made.
Oh well, for now he would have to work with what he had. As he left the bathroom he shouted to his girlfriend, `` Get out the mustard, relish, and whatever leftover chocolate cake icing we have left, we wo n't make rent unless we front page /r/shittyfoodporn and x-post everywhere.''
It seemed like another night of denying that he had a girlfriend and cross-posting only to be called a shitty reposter, but at least he'd make rent.
|
[ WP ] A deeply religious warrior 's ( any time period or fictional one ) thoughts , in his dying moments , as he loses his faith for the gods he once believed in .
|
Have I not won this battle for you like I have the others, Lord? Have I not pierced your enemies with my blade? Have I not made them crumble before you? Have I not done what you β ve asked me to? Have I not served you well, Lord?
Why am I dying, Lord? Why is my blood seeping from my wound? Why am I slipping away with my thoughts and memories no longer bound here?
Do you hear me crying, Lord? Do you hear me here on this earth, clinging to life and screaming?
Why am I dying, if you are really here? Do you not care for me, or were you a lie stringed together by priests and monks and kings and peasants?
I fear my life is meaningless now. I fear you do not exist as I enter this darkness, I fear that you never have, I fear you β ve been a lie.
And I think my fears are true.
|
[ WP ] Write about an event that changed your life .
|
`` Well?''
I did n't realize that he'd been speaking to me for a solid 20 seconds. I was just drifting in my own expanding world. I turned and saw my friend smiling at me, California sun trying to bleach his black, unruly hair. `` What?'' I asked. Graham laughed at me. He had this smooth laugh that made me feel rough around my edges.
`` C'mon Mickey. I said'Was it worth it?'''
I do n't know why that moment was where it all connected. 2 months prior, I made a decision with my previously open-relationship ex-boything that I was going to celebrate my 20th year alive by taking a month off of work to drive to California and back. I had planned my route with meticulous caution, ignoring the fact that I had never met 2 of the 3 people I would be visiting\lodging with. But I did n't care. I was young and brave. Or stupid.
I departed from Southern NY and drove to Chicago, meeting up with a man whom I only knew as Pepper, discovered his terrible drug addiction, and left 2 days early to make my way to Idaho. I never spoke with Pepper again. I fear he may be dead. I arrived 2 days and a thousand miles later in Mormon Country, and spent a week with a friend I had known for years. He told me about his recent life, his father's book, his new computer, his possible new boyfriend, and I told him about the Great Continental Divide, my dreams, and the hunger that comes from living off of peanuts, canned corn and pop-tarts for 2 weeks. We spend the rest of our hours sleeping and kissing.
Another 2 days of driving, and I met Graham, a skiddish soul who had too much innocence and not enough experience, as if I was one to talk. Our time together was a blur of nature trails and historical landmarks. And then suddenly, I was there, standing on the hills of San Fran with my big eyes fixated on the one thing I've always wanted since I could drive. My first real California sunset.
And holding Graham's hand, I realized for the first time I could do whatever I wanted to. I could do anything. Here I was, a scared little recluse kicked out by his own mother's scorn standing a world away from my problems, looking at the sights I wanted to see, spending time with the people that I chose. This was what the Beat Generation felt. This is what I had been looking for, and all of my fears finally burned out. I was 20 years old before I had ever thought to think for myself. I did n't realize until I felt my face grow cold in uniform lines that I was crying. The ocean wind hugged me close, and Graham leaned his cheek on my shoulder.
`` Yes, Graham. It was worth it,''
|
[ WP ] A battle from HALO , but from the eyes of a Covenant Soldier .
|
The invasion of Circinius IV was underway I was told.
This would be the first time I would actually be on the ground under the command of some Sanghelli General. It was everything I could have dreamed, fighting alone side with my Kig-Yar brethren.
We're all being brought into one of the light cruisers for ground deployment, and just my luck I have a starboard view of the planet. Circinius looks beautiful, I wonder if we're capturing the people here and enslaving them.
`` Pilot, you are clear to fire at the Space Tether,'' an overhead voice booms, `` Hehe, those bastards at that academy wont be getting out any time soon.''
Wait, what academy. We could learn from them, do we really have to kill them? What if there are kids there, we cant kill kids, even if they are the enemy.
`` Chak-Ran, why are they firing at that space elevator?''
`` It goes down to some military academy, there's only about 1000 people there anyways, no ones going to miss them.''
This is crazy. I look back out the window, there are people falling from the sky along with pieces of the space tether. Did the Commander say to not have anyone leave the planet? I cant believe it. This isnt what i signed up for.
The cargo doors opened, the first things I hear are screaming, shouting, and the sound of Particle Beams firing. To make it worse, the space tether was still falling. I dont know how much of it was falling, but chunks maybe the size of Sanghelli started to fall.
I just stood there with my gun. It was so surreal, all of it. The first time I get to serve the Covenant, Im ordered to destroy an entire academy full of kids. How many people were trapped in the space tether? How many people are already dead? Were they even prepared? Did they have time to prepare? What we going to do with the planet? Are we going to colonize it? We could use the people here as slaves, you know.
`` Commander!''
`` What is it, Kig-Yar. Do not ask me questions, we need to rid this planet of the enemy.''
`` What are we going to do with it once everyone is dead?''
`` Have you not been paying attention to recent events? We're going to glass this planet!''
... glass? This isnt what I signed up for.
|
[ WP ] `` Forever is a long time to live with regrets ... ''
|
Forever is a long time to live with regrets,
everyday the same, what if?
I could have done, I should've done,
now all I feel is numb.
Too afraid to take a chance,
ask that girl out not just glance.
& nbsp;
Days and weeks go by but I hardly notice,
to live in the past is barely living.
My life decided by the decisions I have made,
but these decisions have caused my joy to fade.
To go back in time and change my decisions,
give my past self a future vision
of what I have become.
& nbsp;
Everyday that same feeling,
that never ending pang, no healing.
For the feeling of trying and failing lasts for a while,
but soon fades and can be looked back on with a smile.
But to never try and to never know,
causes a feeling of regret that will never go.
& nbsp;
And to never go is to last forever
and forever is a long time to live with regrets...
|
[ WP ] Write the second half of a story whose first half does n't exist .
|
`` are you in pain?'' EE-2 inquired as he walked forward looking onto the writhing form.
`` yes, please get help!'' the form spoke. EE-2 felt his arm being grasped by a hand. `` wait... no no no what are you-''
`` rating on a scale of one to ten how painful is your experience?'' EE-2 continued.
`` -en... t-t-ehhhn.'' the form slumped over as his breath leaked out of his mouth.
`` you appear to have something in your abdominal section.'' EE-2 observed. `` would you say the pain is mostly concentrated in your abdominal section?''
there was no response.
`` He may well be broken, but he can be fixed.'' EE-1 reassured. `` in fact, he can even become three.''
`` Yes.'' EE-2 mused. `` The human's reboot will fulfill the function of EE-2. EE-1 has provided EE-2 with further programing.'' EE-2 looked to EE-1 for confirmation. EE-1's face contorted into a strange shape, which EE-2 copied. The face was n't very energy efficient, but perhaps there was a reason that was unapparent to EE-2.
`` Do n't make that face at me again.'' EE-1 said suddenly and with a strained tone, his face shifting into a similar contortion with the brow section further compressed. `` It's mine. You have to make your own.''
EE-2 was unsure what EE1 meant. Regardless EE-2 adjusted his face using thirteen piston structures in the soft form of his face. it was a pleasant shaping. It saved him energy, and he felt it properly portrayed what he stood for.
`` I think I like that face even less.'' EE-1 continued to refer to himself in the first person.
`` this face of EE-2 properly portrays what EE-2 considers appropriate.'' EE-2 explained. `` EE-1 is allowed to imitate it's likeness as well, should EE-1 find it appropriate.''
EE-1 twisted his face again, curling the gel around his nostrils inward. `` the very thought of it makes my system glitch.'' EE-1 turned around and sauntered to a workbench, grabbing a metal skeleton, a small device with a data chip, a long power chord and an adaptor with syringes at the end. `` get your arm out of his gut.''
EE-2 looked down at his hand and saw that the man was gouged on it. EE-2's system frantically adjusted as he took quick little steps backward, letting the man fall on the ground.
`` Did EE-2 turn him off?'' EE-2 asked as EE-1 turned the man over and stabbed the syringe end of the adaptor into the back of the man's neck. `` Was this... *my* doing?''
EE-1 apprehensively looked back at EE-2. EE-1 turned back to his work, taking a moment to rub the back of his neck. `` probably... yeah.'' EE-1 spoke as if his uncertainty was above optimal position. `` but... d-do n't worry, see, we can reboot him and give him a new hard drive!'' he leaned into his work and mumbled something inaudible.
`` Oh good.'' EE-2 simulated the dispelling of air, putting his hand on where a human's hair line would be. all that was there was the transition from the gelatinous facial structure and the metal casing for his intermedial data inputs. a red tint oozed into his right eye, and colored his world half red. `` how long do you think this will take?''
`` A few minutes, why do n't you go and take a cleaning?'' EE-1 instructed passively.
`` I will do this.'' EE-2 replied. turning about and heading over to the spraying station.
`` -ing idiot...'' EE-2 heard EE-1 mutter as the spray began, clearing the visual processor of the red ooze.
|
[ WP ] Rewrite a scene from your favourite film if it were based in an entirely different setting .
|
He sat in the bath, his rough features sitting in contrast to the pristine surroundings. Then his voice seemingly bounced its way all around the room before reaching my ears.
`` Who would you have a serious talk with if you could? Like to lay it all out there, really let it all out?''
`` My boss, I'd let my boss really know how I felt'', I replied.
`` Really?''
`` Yeah why? Who would you talk to?''
`` I'd talk with my dad''
My eyes began to well up with tears, it had been so long since I had thought about him. `` I do n't know my dad. Well, I know him, but he left when I was like six years old.'' I could n't control the sobbing now remembering how much it had devastated my mum and me.
`` He married this other woman and had some other kids. Like I was n't a good enough son for him. Apparently they were n't either because he's done it more than once. Just up and changes city and starts another family. This is the only man I have to look up to.''
`` Hey man, we do n't have to talk about it if you do n't want to.''
`` No it's ok, I feel like I can talk to you about anything, like I can just open up.''
`` Ok, if you're sure then. My parents never went to college so it was really important that I go. So I graduate, call them up long distance and say, no what? They say, get a job. Now I'm 25, make my yearly call again and ask, Now What? I dunno get married.''
`` I ca n't get married. I'm a 30 year old boy.''
`` We're a generation of men raised by women, I'm wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.''
I could n't believe it, was he coming around? I would chase him to the ends of the Earth and back again. Now was the time, with my sobs dying down and the tears stuck to my face. I would tell him I loved him, I WOULD TELL HIM I LOVED HIM. No one could stop me now, even if I was feeling paralysed and limp. It would just be me and him, one love forever, one step at a time. My god he looked sublime I wanted to run my hands over his chest, I will take my time now and take as long as I need.
This is the first night of the rest of my life, I have to do this.
|
[ WP ] `` I had a near death experience . '' OH BE QUIET . I WAS NOWHERE NEAR YOU .
|
The reply came from the only empty chair in John's Manhattan high-rise apartment living room.
`` You heard that?'' I barely muster to John.
`` Yep.'' He answered, sounding almost as afraid as me.
`` So I'm not going insane?'' I asked
`` Nope.'' He answered.
In the same chair, a small red-blush colored cloud appeared.
`` John?'' I ask.
`` Yes?'' John barely musters again.
`` You see that?''
Subtly but surely, John nods.
`` Hello?'' John yells.
`` Ugh, screw it'' A dark hooded figure with no legs and a with scythe in hand suddenly comes into existence, `` it would n't be my first encounter with mortals.''
`` The- Grim Reaper?'' I say.
`` Wait, is it just me or was the Grim Reaper blushing?'' John says.
`` I was not!'' The dark figure interrupts `` I prefer Death, by the way.''
`` You want a beer?'' John says
`` Sure, why not?'' Death replies.
`` Wait do n't you have people to take?'' I ask
`` No I exist in multiple forms, so no one really misses out on death...'' He replies.
`` What were you doing here?'' John asks, at the fridge.
Hesitantly, Death replies. `` Y'know, just chillin'...''
I glare at him ( her? it? ).
`` *Fine*, I'm supposed to take John but he just offered me a beer, so I'll let him live for now.'' Replied Death.
`` Thanks man!'' Said John with a boyish grin on his face.
|
[ WP ] We finally receive a faint signal from a distant planet . An alien civilization has contacted us deliberately . Its a warning .
|
For decades we searched the skies for signs of alien life. Watching for radio, light, and radiation signals. That's why we were suprised when they contacted us.
We'd noticed the stars disappearing one by one, but we thought they were just being obscured.
We were wrong.
And that's why we were so suprised at the message. A faint signal from Alpha Centauri, a short pulse on a repeating loop. Probably the most surprising thing was the content.
In a strange but understandable accent, with not a small amount of what sounded like fear, the message repeated two words.
`` Humans. Run.''
|
[ WP ] After you died you are told you will get to spend the rest of your life with the person you love most . The next you expect to wake up next to your husband/wife but you do n't .
|
Sarah awoke, expecting to see the smiling face of her boyfriend. She knew she had died. The last thing she remembered seeing was the back of a truck cutting through the windshield, it must have cut through her next. Sarah readily admitted that the accident was her fault, she just was n't paying enough attention to the road and it cost her dearly. Immediately afterwards a voice spoke to her, giving her the knowledge that while she has passed on from one plane to another, she could at least share this next adventure with the individual she held most dear.
As she rose from the bed and planted her feet on the floor Sarah looked around. Everything looked normal in her apartment, it was just as she left it. Upon second glance however she noticed that everything around her had a slightly hazy, gaseous effect added to it. She began walking around her now blurred apartment, calling Brian's name knowing he had to be here, after all she was promised that the one she loved most would join her in this new existence.
When Sarah stepped outside her building, still calling out for Brian she heard the voice suddenly answer back `` Brian's not here.'' Startled, Sarah managed to stammer `` Well who is then? Is it my mom? Okay yeah, I love her but I could n't stand being in the same house when I lived with her, the thought of spending eternity together just sounds terrible.''
`` Your mom is n't here either'' The voice responded, `` What did I first tell you?'' `` Duh'' Sarah said, she was starting to get annoyed. `` You promised me when I died I would spend this next life with the person I love and that person is Brian, so get him here right now!''
The voice let out a low mocking laugh, `` Brian is with his wife. Apparently the bond they held was stronger than whatever it was you two had.'' Panic began to set in, Sarah could n't believe it `` There's no way that's true, he said he was going to leave her. He was going to tell her everything! He said it a million times that he did n't love her and that he loved me!'' There was a moment of silence, and it was broken when the voice once again inquired `` Do you remember what I told you?''
`` Yes'' Sarah said, a hint of panic in her voice, `` you told me I would spend this new life with the person I loved.'' The voice spoke slowly and without compassion, `` People share their next life with the other person they were closest to. They only get to be together though, if that feeling is reciprocated.'' Sarah felt her insides twist as she fell to her knees, tears started to form as she barely formed the words `` So where does that leave me?''
The voice stated matter-of-factly `` Just as I told you, with the person you've always truly loved the most.''
|
[ WP ] Your `` left hand '' is the only thing stopping your `` right hand '' from killing you .
|
He was 42 years old.
He was watching Liar Liar.
`` wonder if'the claw' bullshit could really happen'', he thought, stuffing his face with popcorn.
His hand developed a tic. His ring finger started vibrating uncontrollably.
`` Weird'', he thought. A strange thought struck him. He immediately laughed at its absurdity.
Years later....
It was his 54th birthday. The experience was initially not too horrible. He'd become a celebrity of sorts. Hospitals all over the world flew him over to examine him, keeping him in the lap of luxury. As it inevitably does, the novelty of his disorder wore off, albeit after the possibility of it occurring ever again, to anyone else was found to be remote.
He ended up in a nursing home, desperately craving the attention of another human, just like all the other residents, but never got it.
His wife left him for another man. His grandchildren stopped visiting him.
But that was n't all. His body grew very frail, though strangely his right hand did n't. He felt it harder to fend off its onslaughts.
He would probably strangle himself in his sleep. He did n't want that. Bereft of all happiness, he was just... surviving. He could n't even play *bridge*, for crying out loud. He made up his mind on something he'd long been mulling over.
`` damn it, if I go, I'll go doing what I bloody want to'', he murmured defiantly.
Slowly agonizingly, with his feet, he typed in
Ctrl+Shift+N
|
[ WP ] You are Cat , the Bounty Hunter
|
`` Hi, welcome! Welcome to our little company.''
He looked friendly, she thought, standing next to that other man, the hulking, silent brute. She thought that maybe, she could even break that slender figure in half if she really wanted to. Doubt began to cloud her mind.
`` Hi...?'' she suggested uncertainly, fingering the hilt of her blade. She stopped fidgeting the moment she noticed it. It was a bad habit. She was easily startled and holding a knife in semi-probably-maybe-friendly company was probably a bad idea. Especially with that small, knuckle-duster clad mountain looking at her intently. Goodness, his head almost reached the foliage of the trees around the clearing.
`` So.'' he said merrily, `` You saw our ad then.''
`` It was a bit hard not to when you vandalized the local bounty board.'' the retort burst from her lips. She flushed, `` Ah... Mr Mouse?''
`` Cat.'' he bowed shallowly, `` This is Mouse.'' he nudged the giant without a hint of irony, `` Say hi!''
The giant rolled his eyes, `` Say hi.'' he waved a hand unenthusiastically, `` Sorry about that. He got... enthusiastic after drinking too much last night.''
`` Nevermind that...'' Cat waved a hand impatiently, withdrawing a slip of paper from his belt, `` Let's see... Haven, was it? Wanted in Karn, Pelidad, Zygos, Uzio... A former armsmaster? Treason, murder, theft... nice list...'' he folded the paper, tucking it away and looked at her for a long moment.
She nearly started back. There was something different in his eyes as his fingers drifted almost casually over the hilt of the razored whip at his side. She could n't quite identify-
`` I'll test her.'' the large man grunted, stepping between them. `` We'll spar for a bit. Just want to see whether you can handle the bounties we go for.''
His expression faded away into a confused indifference. She wondered what she had seen, but he was already turning away.
`` If you like.'' he said casually, walking away. `` Meet me at the tavern when you're done.''
Mouse withdrew a great club from his back. `` Do n't ever spar with him.'' he said seriously.
`` Why not?'' she asked suspiciously.
`` Look, I can tell you're still quite new to this whole bounty business, but I suppose you should know there's a reason the other bounty hunters do n't really like working with us.'' the man told her gravely. A heavy weight seemed to settle on his shoulders as he looked at the direction Cat had walked away in, `` You'll find out soon enough, if Cat ever gets the chance to fight...''
She did n't press him. She was new to this all, after all. She should have, she thought, when she watched them a month later.
It had been simple enough to start with. There was some random bandit leader who had offended the local magistrate. Get in, wipe out the camp, get out. Easy. Except that Cat had to rescue that little girl and the bandit leader was apparently well connected to the local gangsters in the nearby village, who were in turn actually connected with the local wing of the Royal Guard who wanted the little girl to blackmail her family...
It was hard being a bounty hunter. Hard and annoying and dangerous and crazy... Not that she could give up at this point. Being able to handle a sword was actually pretty useless if you could n't join the Royal Guard and did n't want to join a gang.
Mouse handled it good, even when they finally got cornered in a gorge. He was quite calm about the whole affair actually. She had a feeling he had been through such situations frequently before. She took his advice and kept Cat between them as the Guards converged on either side.
`` I can take care of myself, you know.'' Cat hissed as Mouse crushed a man who had been about to slip past. The little girl buried her head into his side, `` I can really, actually do that.''
She was a bit busy to come up with a proper response, but before she could come up with anything at all, an arrow flew through the air. She reached out with the tip of her blade, attempting to deflect it. She missed- it was just a little too wide. It thudded into a definite target.
`` Crap.'' It was Mouse that said thaf, his tone unfamiliarly faint.
Cat stood perfectly still, the little girl staring in shock at the arrow in his shoulder. `` Huh.''
`` Cat-'' she tried to move towards him only for Mouse to barrel her out of the way. The big man rushed forward, grabbing at the girl. Cat jinked nimbly back, holding the hilt of his whip.
`` Heh. Haha.'' his usual smile had widened into a twisted grin, `` Hahaha.'' his whip flickered out, nearly hitting Mouse. The man drew back, making his way forcefully towards a nearby boulder with her and the girl in tow.
`` We'll get cornered here!'' she tried to protest against his grip, `` We ca n't just leave Cat there!''
`` Hahahahahaha!'' The whip sang.
Cat... the bloodiest hunter. The name was certainly well deserved. She'd heard the stories, of course. There's nothing like a horror story to be passed around with drinks. She'd heard about the Cat with his awful claws that killed and maimed a dozen men without remorse. She'd heard about the Cat who had torn through a crowded village centre to get at a petty thief.
She managed to peer around the boulder before Mouse pulled her behind. Cat... did n't look particularly friendly now. She covered the little girl's ears very carefully as Mouse fought off the foolish few who thought they were the greater threat.
When the sounds had died away, Mouse carefully led their little party out from behind the boulder. This time, she covered the little girl's eyes.
Cat sat in the middle of the gorge, surrounded by... pieces. He was looking up and away to the clouds with a dazed kind of look. Mouse approached him quietly, `` Cat...?''
Cat's head swivelled around sharply to stare at him. Yes, she recognized that look at last. It was the look of a cat, searching for a mouse to devour. After a long tense moment, something like recognition flitted past his eyes. `` Mouse...'' he said distantly, ``... let's go.''
He stood up, hitching his whip at his side. Mouse stopped him and ripped a piece off the coat of a fallen soldier to wrap in a torniquet around Cat's shoulder.
`` Are you... alright?'' she asked, when they were some distance away.
Cat smiled at her, a little weakly. `` Not really... I do understand if you do n't want to work with us... me... anymore.'' he looked away, `` I'll still have Mouse... I'm really lucky, you know. Really, really lucky.'' he said quietly.
She bit her lip. `` I'm not leaving.'' she said eventually. She looked away when she saw him start, `` I do n't have anywhere to go anyway.''
Cat's smile softened into something more natural. `` Well, there's this tavern with really great mead that we could go to...''
|
[ WP ] Three months ago every other human being apparently vanished while you slept ... today you hear an engine in the distance
|
I held the gun against my head with trembling fingers, willing myself to summon the courage necessary for this one last act. It's been 100 days since I last saw another human face, and the loneliness had become unbearable. I was out of food, out of water, and out of hope. Suicide seemed to be my only option.
I stayed frozen in that position for three minutes, waging an internal battle as I struggled to quiet the voice of doubt in my head and steady my hand. As my finger finally began to curl around the trigger, a noise broke the silence. A noise that I had n't heard in months, and never expected to hear again.
It sounded like an engine, as if someone was driving down the highway located near my camp. I threw the gun away and stumbled to the road, straining my eyes to catch a glimpse of the source of the noise.
After a few minutes the speck on the horizon became a recognizable form, and I was surprised to see a large flatbed truck coming down the road in my direction. It slowed down as it got closer, and alongside the noise of its engine I could detect another sound as well.
It was the sound of... music? I could hear drums at first, then guitar, and as it got closer I could finally pick out the sound of a voice.
`` -every time I do it makes me laugh.'' The lyrics sounded familiar, but my exhausted and malnourished brain struggled to process the words. As the truck pulled closer and the music drastically increased in volume, my brain slowly made the connection.
`` Oh no....''
It was now within 100 feet of me, and I could clearly see that the back of the truck was occupied. Not by cargo, but by people.
The entire band of Nickelback, equipment and all, stood performing on the bed of the truck. Out-of-tune instruments blared, and the lead singer screamed his lyrics to a presumably empty world. I stood there, mouth agape, as they slowly came to a stop in front of me. The music stopped, and one of the members beckoned for me to come aboard.
I had been alone and miserable for months, in a seemingly desolate world. Now, I had a popular band in front of me, offering comfort and companionship. The choice was easy.
I sprinted for my camp, falling down multiple times in my haste. I snatched up the gun, pressed it against my temple, and fired.
I ai n't puttin' up with that shit
|
[ IP ] To the Ends of Midgard
|
The mast of the longboat thunked against something as the vessel heaved slightly forward and the sail rippled. A few of the grim-faced oarsmen were dislodged from their places, falling in heaps on the deck. Those that were n't displaced chuckled briefly before remembering their own places. The older oarsmen stood up, with one taking position at the front of the group. Wulfric was met with the sight of a pillar pockmarked with great crevasses filled with moss, he could sense that the fullness of its color was dulled by the gray sky. Then he noticed, the gray, if not the sky itself, seemed to sunder around it, culminating with an easy, rounded break in the clouds at its summit. He wondered at what he had seen.
He had never truly believed the stories, the ones that said you would fall from the edge of the world if you sailed too far. They had seemed too much like the fears of children, sown in order to keep them in the villages, houses, and trades of their fathers. Plus, had n't the priests of the Mighty One who had come to their lands with their brown robes and their strange language, who had brought strange knowledge, new symbols to tell thoughts told him the stories were wrong Yes, but it was also them who said `` For the pillars of the earth are the Lord β s and he had set the world upon them.''
Then he knew what he saw, these were Ymir β s bones. The priests of the Mighty One had forgotten their own stories, at least the ones that proved his people β s right. Wulfric knew this and asked for a sign of what he might do, he looked up at the light streaming from the tear in the sky and he knew. He gasped, and exhaled through his nose, his mouth settling into a kind of smile, despite the tears. With this, he looked at his men, who had become his friends in their journeys, and said goodbye. He pulled his heavy gray fur cloak tight about him and leapt, screaming from the bow of the boat. With difficulty, he clawed and jerked his way up the pillar, the wind whipping about him, grunting all the way.
When he reached the green cap of the pillar, he finally took the time to look at his fingers, they were bloodied from the jagged edges of the rock and reddened near the point of frostbite. Still, slowly, deliberately, he withdrew objects from the folds of his cloak, small, hewn pieces of stone with intricate knots etched into them. Wulfric walked to each of the pillar β s four Cardinal points and placed one of the markers. Together, they seemed to form a circle, chords in the void that twanged with the beating of the wind. He knew that nothing could cross the circle, he felt the safest he ever had. This done, he knelt, closed his eyes, clasped his hands about his talisman, and prayed.
|
[ WP ] A satellite in space can look back to earth , 18 hours in the past . It is used by the military and police . You are the new operator and look at yourself yesterday , but something doens't seem right .
|
`` Ok, Cass, It's been really fun talking to you, but Daddy has to get back to work now, ok?''
`` Ok, Daddy, bye!''
`` Oh, and give the phone to mommy before you hang up please.''
Ed Stevens was sitting at his brand new desk in his brand new office, looking at the far right screen of his brand new computer. His job was simple. A report would arrive through a message on the left screen, giving him authorization to take control of The Electromagnetic Post-Image Device, a satellite called EPI for short. He would decide if use of the device was necessary, and if it was, he would enter the authorization code into the text box on the left screen, and the footage from exactly 18 or fewer hours earlier would automatically load on the middle screen. From there, he would use the alleged report of what happened on the left screen, and make sure it outlined what he could see in the middle screen accurately. If it was correct, he would authenticate it and send it out to wherever it needed to be, usually a courthouse or interrogation room as a piece of damning evidence. Any discrepancies in the report, he would make a few edits, and send it back where it came from. Usually it reappeared a few minutes later with more accurate information.
`` Honey! How's your first day going?''
`` It's alright, May. It's less entertaining than I expected it to be. I only get reports every 45 minutes or so, so I hardly ever get to use the satellite. It's a great view though. My office is on the 50th floor''
`` Well, it's a new technology. Most cops probably do n't think they need it.''
`` Yeah, that's true. I'm just worried I'm gon na fall asleep at this desk or something.''
`` Well do n't do that. The people need you! ``, May giggled. Ed chuckled in return. `` Yeah, I'spose they do. Anyway, I just got a new report. I got ta get back to it. Love you''
`` I love you back. See you tonight.''
Ed glanced at his new report. It was n't listed as having a type. Every previous report had some kind of type or description; in-progress court case, scheduled interrogation, recent arrest, or something like that. But this one just said
`` open''
So he did. But where he expected to find answers, opening the report only spawned new questions. The file was empty, save for the authorization code. He tried to send it back for review, but it reappeared on his screen almost instantaneously, this time reading
`` OPEN NOW''
Screw it, he thought, what could possibly go wrong. He typed in the 16 digit code and got to the video.
His house. It was a picture of his house from the inside, facing the front door. All was motionless for about 5 minutes, until he saw himself walk through the door. Did he wear that coat yesterday? He definitely did n't shave his beard off, he thought, feeling his bushy beard. But it was obviously a video of him.
Before he knew what was happening, the Ed from the video pulled out a handgun, and as his wife and child walked into the entryway, he shot them both, two bullets, one through each head. In shock, his silent tears almost blocked his view of his past self staring directly into the camera, a crazy smile on his face.
He had some vague notion that some police officers had entered the room and started to drag him out by his arms, telling him he had the right to remain silent, but he did n't need to speak. He broke free of their grasp and threw himself out the window of his office.
50 floors was plenty high enough for a successful suicide.
|
[ WP ] Create an origin story for your reddit username .
|
So there's a lighting designer sitting at his light board. He's furiously tapping away at the keypad, programming his show in record time.
God sees this and decides to fuck with the LD. So he reaches down and plucks half of this designer's brain right out of his head... The designer is n't even phased. He keeps ticking away at his keypad like nothing is wrong.
God, not one to be outdone, reaches down and takes the other half of this designer's brain. The lighting designer suddenly pauses. He sits there for a few seconds, and God is eager to see what happens.
Finally, after a short pause, the lighting designer reaches over, grabs a mic, and goes `` mic check, one, two... Mic check, one, two...''
|
[ WP ] Soon after you die , you are approached by a deity who asks `` so , did you enjoy your time in heaven ? ''
|
`` So, did you enjoy your time in heaven?''
Jason's stubbly face rose from its place buried in his pillow. `` Hmm? Is someone there?'' he croaked, his eyes still full of sleep.
Jason recoiled when he saw a middle-aged man in a full jet black suit leaning against his dresser. He took long, cool puffs from a fat, Cuban-esque cigar that, curiously, emitted swirls of smoke as dark as his outfit. From behind the dark sunglasses he sported, his pale, scarred face was tethered to Jason as intently as a hunter stalking prey.
`` Answer the question.''
`` Hey, if you're muscle for Mark, I told him I'd have his money. We can work this out,'' he stammered, raising himself to a sitting position on his bed.
The man simply grinned, the cigar still hanging from one side of his mouth. Jason furrowed his brow and, for the first time, looked around the room. From the door, to the ceiling, to the bathroom, to the bed he was still in, everything was covered in spattered blood. In fact, when he visually followed where the trail was thickest, it led right next to him. He turned around, and there laid a grotesque, mangled heap of what once was a man about Jason's own age. And with the same stubble. And the same tribal tattoo on his bicep.
`` I'm going to help you skip a few steps. You can call me Mr. Schwarz. That pathetic thing on the bed there, that's you. I'm not Mark's muscle, I'm what comes after. We have to go now, the dead have no place in heaven.''
Jason had n't taken his eyes off the corpse in his now-crimson sheets. `` Why do you keep saying that? You're not being funny, calling this hole heaven.''
The man grinned again. He spoke in a hoarse drawl of humor and derision. `` Oh, but the hilarity of exactly that is what makes my job so entertaining.''
Jason put his elbows to his knees and his forehead to his palms. `` I do n't understand. You're telling me I'm dead, right? Then why am I still here?''
Mr. Schwarz ashed his cigar on the floor. `` You're none too bright, kid. This is heaven. You passed on. Your time here is over. I'm here to make sure you do n't linger.''
`` Stop saying this place is heaven! My life has been nothing but scraping by and living in drugs, poverty, and crime. If anything, I'm in hell.''
The black suit bounced at the chest. A raspy wheeze came in quick bursts. Mr. Schwarz was laughing. `` You mortals have such incredible egos for being so insignificant. Heaven is entirely relative.''
Jason's expression was no more enlightened than it was at the beginning of the conversation.
`` Human ideology is vexing to me. It is in the very constitution of your beloved country that all men are created equal. And yet, there is such insurmountable disparity in the lives of men. How can one such as you overcome the monetary inability to gain an education? Or escape the ties to an illicit organization that would have you killed if your loyalty ever faltered? How can men say that those born into the third world, or under a vicious dictator are on equal footing? Or those created with mental handicap, or terminal disease? Man, by nature, is too unique to be equal individually.''
`` What does any of that have to do with me? Or heaven?'' Jason asked.
`` Everything. Here, on earth, you had dominion over your actions. Over your own thoughts, emotions, beliefs. It is that dominion that creates disparity. Your actions are your own. They set you on your own path. And, potentially, they alter the paths of any crossing yours. Your choices make your experience unique. Men are born unequal, but their route through life can change drastically should they exercise free will. This free will could even just be the changing of perspective, from victim to hero, regardless of real deviation from your current path.''
`` This is all lost on me,'' Jason reiterated. `` I do n't do philosophy.''
`` Get used to it. Your existence from here on out is philosophy. My point is, you had the opportunity to make the most of all that you had. That is what made your time on earth heavenly. After this, there is no certainty. You will have nothing. Nobody can tell you what comes next, but it likely wo n't be better.''
`` You mean to tell me you do n't know?''
`` I was n't always like this. I used to be a human, much like you. My name was Michael, once ago. However, when my time came, someone, or something, offered me a deal. I can stay here in paradise forever, if I push those who stay past their welcome out. I only show you the door to the next place. Or lack thereof.''
Jason's eyes grew wide. `` You're an angel?''
Mr. Schwarz gave another raspy chuckle. He stepped towards Jason, and with a single, languid breath, blew a tower of black smoke at the foot of the bed. When the cloud dissipated, an ornate wooden door loomed over the young man.
As silently as the shadow he was, Mr. Schwarz took Jason by the collar and opened the door. `` You could say that,'' he purred, and threw his latest crossing into the void.
|
[ WP ] After years of inactivity , your internet friend messages you with a warning .
|
We found each other where all the lonely people go in this day and age β tumblr.
I forgot what blog it was on, on whose post I had made some half-hearted pun, hoping to gain some kind of validation from strangers who never saw the real me. It was her comment back, another pun of a different kind, that drew my attention, and it was my private message that sparked the friendship between us.
I was young and from a broken home and lonely. She was young and intelligent but imbued with a sense of self-satisfaction that only comes from old money. We were a strange pairing, no doubt, but somehow we fit together. Life had sanded off the edges of puzzle pieces that were never meant to fit.
We used to spend hours at night, talking with covert whispers and letting the words of teenagers raise us on their wings. I still have our call logs, pages and pages of them, days of my life that I squandered away on a friend who I knew I would never see. I don β t regret those midnight memories, however. She was as important to me as family.
Then one day, all activity ceased. I called her and it went to voicemail. I texted her and my texts were never delivered. Her blog went offline and the private Facebook with her real name she had allowed me to see unfriended me. It was as if overnight she had decided I had become too close to the real her, and so I must vanish.
I was no fool. I stopped calling her, stopped texting her, stopped begging for love from somebody who was incapable of it anyways. I sent her my last message on the 4th of January 2013, and all it read was β I am truly grateful for the time we were able to spend together, and although you will never read this, and although you hurt me, I can not hate you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. β
She never replied, of course, and so closed a chapter on a book of my life. My broken home had been almost tolerable with her constant presence behind me, but it took its toll once she was gone. I dabbled in things, bad things. Things I can not speak about for fear of Interpol finding out even now. There is darkness in the hearts of men, and it is darker still on the Internet, if you know where to look.
The Deep Web was my second home. After tumblr became too vanilla, I kept myself sane with videos of β¦ I can not say, even now, but I β m sure you can picture it. There was something magnetic about the danger of what I watched, of what I did. Perhaps I wanted to be caught. I wanted somebody to care.
But nobody ever did. I was alone yet again, surviving on broken dreams, powered by a will that was eroded daily by constant sorrow.
I got in deeper. Got mixed up with people who knew me better than I knew myself. They had no regrets about taking advantage of a broken teenage girl. They preyed on me because I was an easy target.
Then He came and my life changed forever.
He was seductive, beautiful in his misery and achingly charismatic in his cruelty. I was drawn to him as I had been drawn to her, all those years prior. He knew the deepest facets of my personality, knew my pain as if he had experienced it himself. He knew what to say because he knew me. I told him everything, the way I had once confessed to her. At night I slept with his face burned into my eyelids.
It was the day I planned to leave the safe haven of the Internet and meet him for real that my phone buzzed with a text message from none other than her.
All it said was, β Don β t go. β and β I β m sorry. β
How she knew I was going to meet him, I β ll never know. What she was apologizing for, I β ll also never know, but I like to think it was for everything we had been through together.
The next morning her face popped up on the news next to a picture of corpse with a gash in its neck, dead for three weeks, and I knew that God had not abandoned me.
I never met Him and I don β t think I ever will. For now, I β m sticking to reddit.
|
[ TT ] You are the sole hero in a world ruled by villains . You are far past your prime , but you 're all the world has .
|
`` Terry you've got to do this,'' pleaded Julia. Terry continued eating his bowl of King Vitamin cereal via telekinesis. The pleading woman slapped the floating spoon out of the air but it stopped short of hitting the ground; even the cereal and milk hovered above the rug.
`` Do n't ruin my breakfast,'' Terry mumbled. The returned the cereal to the spoon and it drifted back over to him.
`` Our daughter is the greatest villain known to mankind'' she reminded him, `` and you are the only hero left.'' His munching did n't stop and she was on the verge of slapping him out of the air next.
`` Sweetheart, the world literally has not changed since these villains started ruling; as a matter of fact, it's always been ruled by villains,'' he retorted. `` The only difference is now we have proof and we know the villain's names,'' he finished.
`` The villain's name used to be angel when you cradled her in your arms and told her you would never let anything bad happen to her,'' Julia lamented. Terry stopped chewing. He let the bowl drop to the floor, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. `` Do you want me to get your suit for you?'' she insisted.
`` No, I do n't need it,'' he responded and floated out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was n't long before Terry was hovering in front of the villain known to the world as `` The Demoness''. They stared at each other in silence for a while waiting for the other to say something.
`` So you finally decided to give me some attention,'' she taunted.
`` Do n't be like that, angel,'' he began. He was stopped short by a concussive blast of energy to the stomach. He doubled over clutching his sides.
`` That's never been my name,'' she hissed, `` and it never will be; when I'm done with this world I'll gladly take my place among the damned.''
`` My daughter please,'' Terry wept, `` I'm sorry that being a superhero kept me away from the most important thing in my life.'' `` All I ever wanted was for you to live in a world where our family could be together and be safe,'' he cried out.
`` Is that you ignored me and mom and stayed with your super friends all the time?'' she taunted. `` Even when there was no threat you were still with them; I wondered if that woman was the reason, that's why she died first you know.'' she went on. Surely she meant Diane, an old acquaintance.
Finally, she proclaimed, `` Let's close the curtain on the era of heroes already.'' Terry prepared himself as she flew forward to battle.
|
[ WP ] Tell a story that seems clear-cut , but the last sentence completely changes the meaning of everything preceding it .
|
*Meh, I wrote it and I do n't like it now, but I wrote it so I'll post it: *
The sun was out for a hot Summer's day and the car was baking. Everyone was eager to get out but Emma was checking her make-up and no one wanted to leave her. She'd taken the loss of Scott worst. They were cousins who had spent every day together in childhood and as adults would always have plenty to talk about whenever they met at any get together.
Alex almost felt bad in comparison, the last words they'd exchanged were `` Long night then?'' and `` Too tired for your shit.'' With that in mind Alex had n't volunteered to say anything. It had taken him so long to even process he was dead, asking three times if he was dead like his brain could n't accept that something like this had happened.
`` You could do that outside the car.'' Alex eventually said.
`` It's easier sitting down!'' Emma snapped back.
`` Okay, but I'm just going to wait outside.'' Dad said.
`` Uh, yeah, waiting outside.'' Alex muttered.
`` Do what you want.'' Emma said in that tone women can say which indicates you will do exactly what she wants.
Alex was too hot and tired for this and got out, he thought for a second, before deciding he needed fresh air, and space.
When Emma did come out it was clear she had n't wanted them to leave. But she'd said it was okay so she had to find something else to hate.
`` Nice new tie Alex, Mrs Westers says you bought it this morning.''
``... yeah.'' Alex squeeked.
`` Impressive that you knew the funeral date since last week but still ended up rushing last minute for a tie, really impressive.'' Emma spitted out.
`` Okay, I'm sorry, really sorry, I know you are really emotional right now and I'm probably not helping but being angry wo n't either.'' Alex exclaimed.
`` Good, now you calm down too Alex and we're all ready.'' Dad said.
Alex and Dad were on the same side ever since Emma got this mad following the news. If Rich said anything, he kind of had to obey.
`` I'm sorry. I know I must be very emotional, everything about this right now is shit. But he was my best friend and I am never going to see him again. I just need to be in the Church right now.'' Emma sighed, before walking off in its direction.
Rich and Alex were left alone for a moment to sigh.
`` Best friends. Has n't been in this part of the country in ages.'' Rich muttered.
Alex was n't picking sides. It was time to bite the bullet and experience his first funeral.
It was everything he thought it would be, hymms were sang, the Vicar spoke for some time about Scott's life and what was to follow, and friends and family gave their own personal tributes. Scott's wife was the last, talking about their life together, their first meeting and the romance that had followed.
``... every second spent with him made life better and without him I'm still struggling to imagine going on in this darker world. He was my husband, the love of my life, and my best friend.'' she said.
`` Told you Emma was n't her best friend.'' Dad whispered.
Slowly Alex got up, walked quietly with his head down in what he hoped would be subtle manner, and wandered into the outside of the Church and burst into laughter.
`` Figured I'd check on you. You're smiling.''
`` Just the best friend comment. Perfectly fucking timed. I needed a laugh, maybe it should n't have come at Scott's funeral.''
Dad sighed.
`` What?''
Suddenly Alex realised his step Dad was n't there anymore and he was crying in Aunty Emma's arms.
|
[ WP ] You 're an assassin with a sixth sense . You help ghosts seek out vengeance for the wrong that was done to them when they were alive .
|
I sat with the wire cutters in one hand and the rosary in the other. Without saying anything, I started cutting the beads off, letting the metal fall to the floor with a gentle metallic tinkling. My client - who was currently hovering by the doorway - chuckled quietly.
`` You look like you've done this before.'' I looked up at her briefly before continuing.
`` Killing? Yes. Exorcism? Yes.'' I finished cutting the rosary up and picked up the file from the table beside me. `` Ethereal client? No.'' The beads did n't need much filing to fit in the magazine. I paused to *properly* look at my client. There was n't much intact flesh left on her face, and her throat looked like it had been torn out messily. She was definitely the victim of something. She drifted over and watched my process closer.
`` But... Payment...?'' I sighed and started popping the now smooth beads into the magazine loader on the table. I sprinkled the lot with holy water.
`` I figure that if killing your murderer will help you move on, then that's handy to know, `` I murmured as I loaded the magazine. `` Besides, I need to test these out.'' I took the magazine over to the already set up rifle and clipped it in. It took me three hours earlier in the day to carefully pry that lone brick out to get the perfect view of the target's balcony. I got into position and waited. He eventually stepped out onto his wonderfully exposed balcony with a cigarette. I gestured to my client and pointed. `` Sure this is him?'' She looked at him through my scope and murmured an agreement before stepping back.
`` That's him...''
`` Good.'' I lined up the shot, and took it. The guy vanished in a messy explosion as the bullet hit his heart. I turned to face my client. She was trembling. And definitely not moving on yet. As I pulled the rifle out of the gap, she finally spoke.
`` Why did he... Asplode?'' I carefully replaced the brick, adding a dollop of resin for good measure. Her aura was starting to fade slightly around the edges.
`` Known vampire. I used wooden rosary beads.'' Looking at her directly, I smiled wryly. She was fading out, even if she did n't realise it herself. `` Stake to the heart with a modern twist. Holy water was just in case it did n't work and we had to run. `` She smiled, fading further. I smiled back, and she finally vanished completely.
Or not. She tapped my shoulder after I turned around again.
`` Umm...'' I smiled wryly before laughing quietly.
`` Well, now what do you want to do?''
|
[ WP ] Everyone is born with blond hair . A person 's hair turns brown when they lose their innocence .
|
She put down the plastic train in her hand, and it rolled off the folders of her pink Sunday dress like a child down a summer hill. She spun around and looked up at me from her place on the floor. `` Mom,'' she asked, `` When did your hair turn brown?''
It was the question I always knew would come, but had never prepared for. `` Oh, honey, you wo n't have to worry about that for a long time.'' I smiled at her, but pushed herself to her knees and folded her arms.
`` When!'' she demanded.
I gave a heavy sigh.
`` I was sixteen.'' The memory was fresh. I hesitated and scanned an empty corner of the room so that he might not know how often I thought of it. I tongued my teeth and pretended to think. `` I was coming from school-''
`` Like my school?''
`` Yes, honey, like your school.'' I reached down from my chair and put a hand on her cheek and beamed at her. She returned the smile until the memory of her question caused a new frown.
`` What happened?''
`` When I was sixteen, lots of people were fighting each other about the president. And my brother was walking me home from school-''
`` You mean Uncle Jack?''
`` No honey, my older brother. You never met him. He was walking me home from school and some men jumped out of a car and they said mean things to him and they did mean things to him.'' I tried to think about how to phrase the images in my head for a child. I dodged the profanities and the slurs, but what about the violence? What about when they ripped the hair from the top of his head in great clumps? How they held my face and eyes open to make me watch them break his arms and fingers. How could I tell her about his screams? His tears?
`` What kind of mean things, mommy?''
`` They hit him, a lot. And-'' was I going to cry? I felt a lump in my throat. I hoped she could n't hear it as I continued. `` they made him very sick and hurt, and he did n't get better, I'm afraid.''
`` That's why your hair turned brown?''
I nodded.
`` Oh.'' She turned back around and picked up the train.
I touched my hair.
|
[ WP ] `` Oh god . Its gotten out ... God save us ''
|
`` Oh god. It's gotten out... God save us.''
Those were the last words I heard from Steve's voice over the P.A. The eruption of the wall behind us hurtled chunks of cement and metal everywhere pinning me and my co-workers. Some of them died instantly... better off that way, nobody should have witnessed what happened next. Through the smoke and flames from the hole in the wall, a grotesque humanoid shape stepped through cautiously as if wary of the destruction it had just caused. Red flashing illumination coming from the lock-down lights could barely show what the creature looked like through my spot underneath the rubble. A disproportionate arm here, a muscled leg there, but the worst part was the blood soaked face. It's mouth curved into a disgusting sneer before shrieking an earsplitting noise that even drowned out the blaring alarm. With unnatural strength it picked up Karen's limp body and a helpless and screaming Brad out of the rubble. The creature did not seem amused by this and silenced him with a sharp crack. The creature left the rest of us in our places, dragging the two bodies with it, but before it stepped out of the newly opened wall it looked back... and grinned. No more Karen, no more Brad, and probably soon no more Steve or anyone else in the facility. ``... God save us'' Steve said, there may not be a god, but I sure as hell know we just created the devil.
|
[ WP ] The White House is under attack . One man is left standing . He is the Chef 's son , he is Cory , and he is back in the House .
|
β Cory you sack of shit! I told you half an hour ago to peel me a bucket of whites! The President needs his daily dose of starch so get on it! β
β Yes sir β Cory muttered to his father, dragging his feet through the kitchen and to the walk-in cooler. The door shutting behind, Cory stopped and took a breath, letting the frosty air envelop him. β Now, what did I come in here for? β He looked around the space blankly, admiring the fine cuisines around him. Shrugging it off, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a hastily-rolled blunt and, seating himself on a bucket of broth, lit up and inserted his earbuds. Blazing and jamming to the sweet sounds of Smashmouth β s *All-Star*, he completely missed the explosive racket of the terrorist β s automatic weapons and futile screams as the Secret Service continued on their dismal streak of actually performing their duties.
A full session of *Astro Lounge* later Cory emerged from the cooler with a rack of lamb in hand. β Yo dad, I got that porterhouse like you asked. β He stopped and took in the scene before him: carnage everywhere. The eggplant had been executed, the scallops slaughtered, a massacre with the mussels, and even the baby spinach had been snuffed. Cory β s father lay on the ground riddled with bullet holes, a pool of red slowly encompassing him. Son kneeled down next to father and studied him, solemn. He dipped his fingers into the blood and slowly brought them to his mouth, taking a taste, before violently spitting. β Nasty! β Cory stood and wiped the soiled fingers on his apron. β Tomato soup β s gone bad already! β He looked down at his father scornfully. β And after all your criticism, who β s the one dropping the ball this time, Pops? β He shook his head. β I expected better from you. β Cory straightened his apron, β Well, I guess it β s up to me now. β With rack of lamb still in hand, he continued on his way.
Cory walked through the halls of the White House, earbuds in place, jamming to summer hits of the 00 β s. He found himself mildly curious, but ultimately not bothered as to why so many of the staff were sleeping; in chairs, on the floor, full of holes, limbs contorted. β Man, I need to get a job outside the kitchen here! β He removed another joint from his pocket and lit up, inhaling deeply. He looked down to the corpse of a Secret Service agent on the ground as he exhaled. β None for you pal, you got ta keep the main man safe. β
Cory danced by the door to the Oval Office. * β Why you got ta go and make things so fuckin β complicated? β * Cory stopped, something inside the Oval Office distracting him from his crude cover of Avril Lavigne. Sitting at his desk, clutching a messy wound on his chest was the Commander in Chief himself.
β Son! β the President exclaimed through labored breathing. β Help me! β Cory removed one earbud and slowly entered the room.
β Mr. President. β he began. β I am honored and *flattened* to present you with your dinner tonight. β Cory presented the rack of lamb before his leader. The President β s eyes widened, not at the piece of raw meat in Cory β s hands, but the TERRORIST sneaking up behind the boy, rifle trained on his head.
β Son! Look -- β
β Mr. President please, β he stuck the blood-stained finger over the President β s lips. β Let me finish. This turkey is among the finest birds ever grown for human consumption. β The terrorist was only a step behind Cory now. β Why I myself may never get -- What the fuck?! β Time stopped: the terrorist froze in his tracks, the President held still as stone, and Cory stood like a statue, a look of horror and disdain on his face. β You hear this shit?! β He took his free earbud and stuck it in the President β s ear. The President, Cory, and even the terrorist leaned in to listen. What could it be? The strained silence was finally pierced by the vocals of none other than Chad Kroeger, rattling off *How You Remind Me*. β Nickelback?! You shitting me right now? β he removed the earbud from the President β s ear. β Fuck that, am I right?! β As the last words exited his mouth he swung the rack of lamb back furiously, smashing the terrorist square in the face! Cory turned and looked at the man now lying unconscious on the ground. β Whoa, Mr. Vice President! I β m so sorry, sir! β
A week later Cory found himself on the steps of Capitol Hill, standing parallel the President. A large crowd clamored before them.
β Mr. Cory, β began the President. β It is my honor to present you with the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest award a civilian may receive. Despite the incredibly tragic recent events, you serve as a reminder that there are still those with genuine altruism in this world. β The President placed the medal around Cory β s neck as thunderous applause came from the crowd. Cory stepped up to the microphone.
β Thank you, Mr. President. I just did what anyone else would. β Cory paused, his eyes welling. β And I owe it all to someone who couldn β t be here today. β He looked out to the mass gathered before him, lips trembling. β Steve Harwell and the rest of Smashmouth β He held his medal up. β This one β s for you! β The crowd erupted into applause once more. Cory shook the President β s hand, beaming. *All Star* began to play once again, and all was right with the world.
|
[ WP ] You 're an awesome superhero . However you do n't live in a big city like Superman , Batman etc . You live in a small town in a small country where not a lot happens . How do you spend your day ?
|
*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* SLAP! *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* SLAP! *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *Stumble* *THUD*
`` Oww! Goddammit! Where the hell did I put that- Oh here it is. And... You be quiet.''
*CLICK*
That's the start of my day. I started getting too used to my alarm. I was unconsciously turning it off. So, I wrap it in a towel and throw it somewhere in my room. Makes me get out of bed to go find it. A swish of some mouthwash, and I put the suit on. It's really some decorated jumpsuit that my girlfriend put together for me. She does cosplaying at a lot of the science fiction conventions. Turns out the local superhero work I do gives her opportunity to get A LOT of practice in fixing and designing. I'm really liking this latest model, I hope it lasts a while.
I get the coffee going. Candace takes her's black. Usually the smell will start to get her waking up. Night classes at the local tech college pretty much shift her sleeping schedule, so she does n't wake until a hour after me. We started living together a few months ago, so we're figuring it out as we go. Hopefully, once she finishes out her classes, we can see about moving to the state university. But that all depends if the local superhero league has an opening and thinks I can manage it. Otherwise, I'll see if the IT department has an opening... I'm not against dusting off my computer science degrees.
I set off and walk down to the town square. Despite what Internet Hero Database says, I can actually fly. The town is just so small, it's really not necesary. I can fly pretty fast too, it's probably why the IHDB lists one of my powers as teleportation. Damn, I wish I could teleport, but... when the town is only a few miles wide and when you can break the sound barrier, it must seem like teleportation.
At the town square, I do my rounds with everyone. We've got Gus at the hardware store. Mary Ellen runs the grocery. Grover runs the local card/game/toy/video/etc shop. I play D & D there on Wednesday nights. Jake runs the convenience shop and gas station. Robert runs the pharmacy. And Hugh and Sydney, are getting the town hall open to handle business. And Officer Hayes, usually is rolling out of the station by now... Yep, there he is.
I stop by the police station, get the incident list from last night, and see if there's anything they need help on. I sit in on the morning briefings. I try not to interfere too much, as I'm only suppose tackle anything too out of the ordinary.
Then I start my patrol around town. I hit the schools, clinic, parks, and few other public places to just make sure nothing is leftover from the night before. Then move over to the few strip malls and check to see if anything is off there. Usually, I get a call from- There she is.
`` Morning, babe.... Did you find the cinnamon rolls I put in the microwave?... Yah, I'll swing by the game shop for lunch.... I do n't know. Umm, how about a sandwich from Jasper's?... Okay, Club Sandwich.... I'll swing by the grocery and get a 2-liter of Dr. Pepper.... Nah, we do n't need ice. I'll just chill it myself.... HA! I'll be careful. Worst case, we'll have Dr. Pepper slushes.... Okay. Love you, too. Bye.''
She's great. She's really pushing me to get into a bigger town. Truthfully, that whole economy dropping out was the worst and best thing to happen to me. Lost my job in software development. Got broke. Lost hope. Moved here. Got shitty job. Nearly died. Somehow got superpowers. Got better job with the county superhero league. Finally crawled out of my pit of despair, saw daylight and people, and met Candace playing D & D.
Ah, finally, the e-mail newsletter from the State Superhero League... Usually nothing too crazy to worry about. Most the big names handle the ridiculous stuff. I just like to keep an eye out for stragglers and leakage from other operations. I've been able to nab a few crooks. This town is so small, it's easy to pick anyone not from here. And most are n't really smart anyway and try to start something. As I've figured out my abilties more, I've come up with some really cool looking stunts to make them just give up. It does n't take much. The big heroes have already put the fear of everything in them. My favorite one lately is catching bullets, making it look like I toss them in my mouth, chew them up, and spit out figurines of me. It's just some sleight of hand with my D & D charater's mini. Most crooks are so dumbfounded, that I can usually walk them out and right into the police station before they get their senses about them again.
But... Nothing on the list today. Oh well.
I stop by Jasper's the local sandwich shop, get Candace's and my order. Grab a 2-liter, and manage to use some thermal transfer ability to chill it down. Still figuring that one out. Hope to figure out how to make some dry ice eventually. Next Halloween is going to be awesome.
I like the game shop. Candace works there, we got a lot of friends there, and there's actually people who keep up with the whole Superhero Leagues world. After eating lunch at the counter, I have a chair outside facing the town square. I hang out around the square, since it's the center of activity for the town for quite some time after lunch. That and people actually started to come here first when they needed me, so I made it my unofficial office.
I leave for the schools right before they let out and help with traffic. Keeps the cops on patrol and there's something to be said for having someone that can actually stop traffic if needed. The schools originally called me in to deal with this one asshole that keep speeding through the zones. It's amazing how willing to change someone is when you've grabbed and dragged their car to a stop and explaining what the school zone signs were... by using the actual, lifted from the ground sign with the concrete base still attached as a visual aid. After that the schools just prefer to let me handle it. People watch their speedometers and keep right at 15MPH.
Town rush happens... Well, a rush for this town. I usually head off to the local bank, since they have the tall building around I can watch everything from. I tried that whole hovering above the city thing, but that just distracted too many people and almost caused a few traffic accidents.
My active shift is over at this point. I'm always on-call, but they do n't need me patrolling around. Zoom over to the game shop to pick up Candace and fly back home. Need to get out of the suit for a bit and she needs to get ready for class. Then, I fly her over to the tech college. Thankfully, there's a balcony at the student union that no one really uses, so it's a nice landing spot that does n't attract too much attention.
I zoom back home, sit back in the computer chair, and goof around until Candace's class lets out. Zoom over, and fly her back. Sometimes we take the scenic route back and talk about things. From a 100ft up, the town and county is really pretty. Sometimes I feel she's a bit worried about the whole superhero/non-superhero relationship thing.
`` It's just that...''
`` That?''
`` That well, you can fly! And have strength, speed, and all other kinds of abiltiies. We're still discovering things!''
`` Exactly. We. We are discovering things.''
`` Come on. They are your powers!''
`` That I would n't have bothered learning about without you.''
`` Bullshit, you would have figured them out, eventually.''
`` Maybe. Maybe not. I'm actually a very lazy person at heart. I would n't have even bothered with trying most things outside of three things without you.''
``...''
`` Without you, I'd have no motivation to do more than what was needed to pay the power bill to keep my computer running. I'd be trying to fight crime in my regular clothes with some random safety gear I had laying around. I'd have nothing but a smelly hovel to retreat to at the end of the day. And there'd be no one around to keep me human.''
`` Damn you... now you're going all sappy.''
`` Sap nothing. I got someone to fight along side with in this strange life we live. And I get to do a lot of it in progressively more awesome super suits.''
`` That reminds me, I almost finished up the next costume for the con next week.''
`` Wait... The one for...''
`` Yes.''
``...!''
`` You want me to put it on, BEFORE I complete it?''
`` What's not complete with it?''
She whispers in my ear. The scenic route gets shortcuted by a near zoom back home. She wo n't admit it, but she LOVES that sudden burst of speed.
I respect those superheros with the big cities. I really do. Some days I really want one of those cities. Other days... and nights... I appreciate this peaceful little town and its `` not much'' going on.
|
[ WP ] Someone , unknowingly , kidnapped a supervillain 's daughter .
|
Every screen on every television, on every computer suddenly changed. `` Do n't bother changing the dial, or trying to refresh the website. I'm on every screen everywhere.''
He looked like a simple man, seated behind a plain wooden desk, thinning salt and pepper hair over a clean shaven face. He looked like the type of person that countless people could walk past and yet never really see.
`` Let me introduce myself,'' he said, `` I'm Doctor Philosopher and I have a simple message. To preempt your questions, yes, I am a supervillain and yes this is a ransom demand. Here's what I want.''
He stood up, placed his hands on the desk and leaned closer to his recording apparatus. `` I want my daughter back. She was kidnapped this afternoon. It may have been unwittingly, and I'm willing to let bygones be bygones presuming she's returned unharmed. I parked my vehicle, cleverly disguised as a 1992 Chevy Lumina APV, the most reviled car in America, outside the supermarket yesterday. My daughter was feeling sick and wanted to keep sleeping, so I rolled the windows down a little for her and she curled up on the back seat.
`` I came out only to find the car gone. Who would steal a vehicle that ugly? If it was an innocent mistake, how is it possible that you could have mixed them up?'' He snarled and leaned even closer to his recording apparatus. `` I want my...''
Suddenly the door burst open and a teenager skipped in and put her arms around his shoulders. `` I'm back, Daddy!''
`` Alba! You're back, what happened?''
`` Oh, did n't you get the text? Mom's car blew a flat so she called me to come pick her up. I texted you that we'd be back to pick you up, but we did n't find you at the store so we figured you must have called EvilBird for a pickup.''
Suddenly his face went white as he stared at his recording device, `` I told you never to come in here without your mask on! I'm recording!'' He fumbled for something in his desk and suddenly everyone's screens were returned to their normal content.
Facial recognition complete.
Female identified as Alba Maybank
Address: 1895 Sycamore Dr...
> There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist.
> [ More by me ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/ )
|
[ WP ] You are at the park with your kids , when you see the telltale signs of a lightning strike . You divert your kids from danger , but are hit by lightning . Soon after , you discover that your Dad Senses have increased 100 fold .
|
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Why is opening my eyes so difficult... Ugh, it feels like I just went a round with Ronda Rousey⦠and then that kickboxing chick that roundhouse kicked Ronda in the face... and then an army of suspiciously strong midgets, with cattle prods.
Beep.
And what the Hell is that sound?
Cracking my eyes open, they go first to my wife, Meredith, sitting on my left and then to my surroundings. Ah, a hospital room. Fridge-kicking fantastic. What the hell did I do this time? Last time, it was an unfortunate incident involving a parachute, the mailman, and five lawn darts that I would rather not discuss. Meredith glances this way. Great. Now she knows I β m awake. I am SO in for it.
β You β re awake! Oh thank God! β
β¦wow, I must have really had it out for myself this time.
β Mere, dear, what are you talking about? What happened? β
β Jake, darling, you don β t remember? You were struck by lightning while you were out walking with the kids at the park. The person who called the ambulance said that the clouds came out of nowhere and that you and the kids were running toward the closest buildingβ¦ and that for some reason you had your hands waving above your head as you ran. You looked quite mad, he said. β
β Crap! I remember nowβ¦ Well, not getting hit by lightning, but I remember running toward the building with my hands waving above my head. Lightning always hits the highest point, you see. So I was waving my arms around my head in order to be conspicuously taller than the kids. I β m surprised you β ve never noticed. I always do it when storms come on. It β s kind of like how I always walk closer to the street on the sidewalk so that you β re protected from passing carsβ¦ Completely normal. β
β Well, Sweetheart, it worked this time. You got struck by lightning. β
She walks to the door to tell the kids to come inside, that I β m awake. Charlotte and Ben appear at the door.
Something about them appears different. Then I see a glimmer above their heads.
β Dad you β re such a twat-bucket. I β ve never met a more clumsy man, but I will admit I β m happy you β re alive, β said Charlotte β s glimmer.
Hmm, that β s strange. I β m just going to go out on a limb here and assume that I can now read Charlotte β s thoughts. Let us pause to be alarmed and confused.
...
...
...
Well, at least it β s nice that she β s happy I β m alive.
The air above Charlotte β s head starts to glimmer again, β After all, mom doesn β t think we should get cars when we turn 16, but I know you β re enough of a pushover to give in if my eyes tear up a little. Speaking ofβ¦ β Charlotte β s eyes begin to tear up.
This is going to be a hassle.
My daughter is a sociopath.
Fin
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
My second ever reddit post... feedback appreciated!
|
[ WP ] `` I 'm not afraid of you anymore ! ''
|
`` I'm finally not scared,'' remarked the man. He lay on a messy bed of crumpled sheets and smelly clothes. His own attire was mismatched and stained, his hair a mess of varying lengths and directions that looked jarring against his somewhat pleasant beard.
He stared at the sunken ceiling of his bedroom, lazily dreaming of a girl he once knew. She was fond of wearing sundresses, he thought, as the scene in his head came together. And her hair, a pale sunlit yellow, scented with lavender and vanilla. It was always a better time when she was in his world, even as a phantom in a dream.
In real life, they had been lovers for years before the simple passing of time pulled them apart; like all lovers they soon detached themselves from each other emotionally when they could no longer spend sweaty nights under the starlit sky together. When they were together, however, they were the most inseparable pair around.
She would drag him away from his computer, always to the ocean or into the woods. She would climb a tree in her bare feet, and he'd say `` That's dangerous! ``, if only to mask his own fear.
In public she would lead him from place to place, always greeting strangers with her lovely smile, and he would feign interest. He did n't like meeting new people. As long as he had her, anyone else was a threat to him. He had always been afraid of embarrassing himself.
Much of their chemistry came from her decision making. It was counter-intuitive to his logic. How could a girl who experienced so much grief be so fearless? It gave her a freedom he admired very much, and he enjoyed caring for her when she was careless. He would enslave himself if only she asked, all to make her happy.
But there he was, alone in his disheveld bedroom, left with only his memory and his fears. Nobody was coming to drag him away for an adventure; if anything, he was even more paralyzed without her. So he had come up with a brilliant plan, a way to conquer all fear, a way to conquer the root of all fear. He was going to conquer the fear behind death's door.
He checked the pressure on his helium tanks by his bedside. The valves squeaked open and closed on command, so he set them aside and set to preparing a large plastic oven bag. He pulled out a marker and scribbled `` I'm Sorry'' over the label and fit the bag over his head. The helium tanks hissed again as he connected them to his hood with two lines of tubing, and secured his contraption with a rubber band around his neck.
`` Death,'' said the man, breathing deeply, `` I'm not afraid of you anymore.''
|
[ WP ] A good bye message from the human race .
|
There is a planet listlessly twirling in space, one that once gleamed blue and green that would have been a spire of envy for onlookers. Now all that remains is a shell, acrid and cold, that has long since given up trying to heal. We did this.
Do not attempt to learn what we learned, build what we built, believe what we believed. Maybe you will have a chance if our bones turn to dust and all traces of what we created fade into the night, an echo long since past that will slowly ebb into nothingness.
Run far away from this place. And do n't look back.
|
[ RF ] A country develops a way to erase someone 's memory and gives it as an alternative option to death row inmates .
|
`` This was a mistake,'' Thomas Brooke said tersely with an an air of gravity as he had rehearsed to perfection. `` President Laslow's decision upends morality and all concepts of justice.''
`` There's that word again,'' President Sharon Laslow replied with a barely hidden tone of condescension in her voice.
`` Madam President, as per the rules of the debate, you will be given time to reply to Governor Brooke after he finishes,'' Rick Snyder, the debate moderator said.
`` Thank you, Rick,'' Brooke continued. `` Fellow citizens, President Laslow is going to tell you that this was the humane thing to do. That it was the only way to give these people a fresh start in their lives. That this was the moral thing to do. But I implore that each and everyone of you ask yourselves this. `` What about the victims and their families? Do n't they deserve justice?''''
`` Madam President, you have one minute to respond to Governor Brooke's comments.'' Snyder said.
`` Governor Brooke speaks of `` justice'' quite regularly. In fact, that's been the only thing he seems to be talking about in his campaign trail. But what exactly does he mean by `` justice?'''' Laslow began. She too had rehearsed as much as Brooke had.
`` Is justice always served by making sure that the guilty are made to suffer and die?'' Laslow continued. `` Fellow citizens, please understand that though I may understand that not everyone agrees with the decision I made, I did not make my decision lightly. In fact, only those who have ever been in this office understands that there are no easy decisions. No, I thought long and hard about it and, with the help of my advisers, party leaders, the Supreme Court, and God, it dawned on me that the best form of justice is not to punish those who wronged us, but to give them the chance to live anew, to live as good and productive citizens. So that the evil that they had once committed in the world can be balanced out by the good that they will do later on.''
`` And that's the problem with people like you, Madam President,'' Brooke snapped; more angrily than he should have been. His communications director told him that sounding and looking angry might poll well with the men but it turned off women. After all, he was challenging the country's first female president. And God knew that he could n't take women's vote for granted.
`` People like you...'' Brooke continued with the same tone because he had shown anger already and it would have looked overly practiced if he dialed it down in the middle of a sentence. `` People like you, you smug liberals love to think of everything in the abstract. But let me tell you one thing. Justice is not abstract!''
The audience applauded and cheered at that line. It was a short and powerful line that polled well with men, women, conservatives, and undecideds, though not so much with liberals.
`` For example, take Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, the couple from Ohio that I met last week'' Brooke continued. `` Their fifteen-year-old daughter was kidnapped, gang raped, and murdered by a group of thugs. And they filmed the whole thing on their phones and uploaded it onto the Internet. They laughed while they brutalized and killed her.''
Brooke could imagine the dials in the control room going up as he recounted this story that had been in the media for weeks the previous year.
`` And where are these men now?'' Brooke bellowed. `` One of them is working as a store clerk in El Paso, another got a job in a bakery in Tulsa, and the third is graduating from high school in Minneapolis! But what about Karen Jenkins? What about her parents? What about the community that those thugs ripped to shreds when they committed their unspeakable crime?! Where is justice for the victims, Madam President?! Those men living well does n't bring us back Karen Jenkins or any other victim that has viciously been taken away from us by monsters!''
|
[ PI ] You are a writer in the year 1983 . Write a futuristic dystopian short story set in the year 2014 . Your story includes true dystopian facts that have actually happened in our era , while including `` future tech '' from the viewpoint of the 1984 writer . Future tech can be real or fictional .
|
The first midterm election after Reagan's second inauguration in 1985 was a doozy we should've all seen coming. By that time, corporations practically were the government. Minimum wage was wiped out, safety regulations disappeared, several government departments dissolved, and the education budget destroyed. The Republican Party, complete with a new party platform dictating free market rule except in matters of war and property relations, took over with a supermajority in both houses of Congress. You could practically hear Reagan's aged cackle as he sat in the Oval Office, dictating ideas to the new Party leaders, such as the repeal of the twenty-second amendment. When the bill was introduced to the House of Representatives, Reagan made a sure point to appear on TV, saying that it was for the good of America and capitalism, and would help defeat the red menace. Although I ca n't recall his exact words anymore, I remember very well him using patriotism and Constitutionalism to sway the general public, most of who were starry-eyed at the idea of saving America from communism.
The amendment passed easily after that little speech.
Now the year is 2014. Reagan served until his death in 2004, and the Republican Party Chairman serving at Reagan's time of death, Raymond Wilkes, took over in an easily-won election, since the electoral college not only met in secret, but also cast ballots in secret now, safe from public repercussions. The Democratic Party dissolved, and was never replaced, making the only other Presidential candidates independents and write-ins, which obviously never won, no matter how many popular votes they received.
Communist and anarchist militias popped up from time to time, with no support from the Soviet Union, which itself was barely surviving at this point, and most likely coming to a close very soon. The communists would stage marches and parades, with heavy support of the people, and suppression by the police, and the anarchists would blow up a Walmart or two on their way to the communists' parades. These militias were usually disbanded after the FBI went undercover in each and every one of them.
Management of the police forces across the nation were handed over to the private security corporations sometime in the late 90s, and never handed back. The military was a joint effort between government and private militias, often blowing some small unheard-of nation to Hell for their resources, typically fossil fuels. Wars were about one every two years at this point, support barely drummed up with cries of patriotism and defending and spreading freedom, like the US was some sort of liberty missionary packing heat.
It was typical at that point to work ninety hours a week for fifty bucks, even among the college-educated. Connections were barely pulling weight anymore, usually just granting the connected a job at a higher-end diner, wihch were barely populated anyway, since no one can even afford to go. Roughly forty percent of the population is unemployed, due to heavy factory automation, and even some lower-end fast food restaurants going for automation.
Cities were generally degenerated messes, minus a small business district, lit up with heavy use of neon lights for the maybe three or four city blocks it took up anymore. Cities were overwhelmingly housing projects with awful upkeep. One collapsed about once a week, the others just waiting and crumbling.
Everyday, on my way to work, I'd come across these decrepit housing projects, looking like they were about to fall on me. However, after my numerous visits with FBI, there was little I could do. Most likely, all my coats were bugged, and I could n't afford to buy new ones, so I just kept quiet. I wanted to do something, though, to save the common man from his oppression and degenerate survival.
But I did n't know what to do, and that was the worst of it all. Anarchists and communists were either arrested or shot and refused treatment for being traitors, and unionized workers were quickly replaced by the unemployed, needing the money for their families. I found myself designing special posters, that could only be read by smart-phones, phones designed to sense their surroundings, and could often replace modern computers. These posters, however, were caught and I got a heavy beating from the FBI.
Finally, someone did something. An anonymous man, dressed entirely in black, I'm assuming he was an anarchist, shot Wilkes in the heart during a speech. Wilkes fell to his death without a second to spare. His killer was found and shot dead by police later on, but that was an action that was quickly followed by people realizing that these men were simply that: men. They rose up at long last, looting big-name stores, destroying restaurants, burning down factories, and sending capitalism to its burning death. I was in a jail cell for suspected conspiracy at the time, but I caught all of it on the news on TV, and admittedly, I teared up at the sight of it. People finally grew a collective backbone.
I ended up escaping as the police station burned down, but when I got out, I saw the business districts burnt to the ground, the neon signs dismantled and smashed, and many people living in tents. Here and there, they would drag out an executive involved with Reagan's takeover and execute him the in the street, usually complemented with a rather awful joke about the similarity between the words'executive' and'execute'.
Although it was bloody and burning, it had its own sort of beauty. People finally stood up against their oppressors and watched them burn. Former construction crews unionized themselves, and repaired many of the housing projects across the country, granting people a proper life in them. Some preferred to live in tents or in old office buildings, which was a right granted to them. Some threw out rich families from their homes and took over their houses. Whatever happened, I guarantee it was a welcome sight after the mess we had with the old ways.
|
[ WP ] Write your worst
|
`` The thing sucks it does.'' Said he-man and Godzilla, the wonderful team of the guys.
Heman found a sword and then he stuck it in the thing they were talking about in the last paragraph. Godzilla breathed fire and radiation on it, but he hit himself by accident and singed off his entire body so he was just a head. It was okay though, because he's a lizard he can grow them back and he did that before the thing had a chance to recooparated. So Godzilla was busy growing back his body and He-men yelled at the thing and then it died of fear. And the thing was your dreams.
Fin.~
|
[ WP ] Your a storm trooper who just finds out that his entire family died at the destruction of the Death Star .
|
`` I swear those *were* the droids we were looking for,'' I said after downing another drink.
`` This shit again? Look, those were n't the droids,'' my sergeant said. We have been having this argument for days, ever since that old man and, who I can only assume is his grandson, got by our check point in Mos Eisley. `` Even if they were, which they were n't, I would of known.''
`` Not if he used a Jedi mind trick on you!''
`` Jed- Jedi mind trick? Are you even listening to yourself? Next you are going to say that the smuggler who killed that Rodian shot first! The only Jedi left is Lord Vader, and he is all the way by Javin IV crushing the remains of the rebel scum.''
`` He could have a son,'' I said, ordering another drink.
`` Oh right, this shit again. You know you and your crazy ideas are going to get you choked by him someday. In fact I have half the mind to re-''
He was cut off by Olan, a rookie assigned to our battalion, bursting through the door. `` It-it's been destroyed!'' he exclaimed as he tried trying to catch his breathe. `` The Death Star has been destroyed by the Rebels.''
My mouth dropped. My wife and son were on the Death Star. They were waiting there for me, we were suppose to go to the forest moon of Endor next week for a holiday. The sergeant stood up and grabbed Olan by his uniform and forced him against the wall of the cantina.
`` Boy, you better not be playing some cruel prank here, or I swear, I will throw you into the sarlacc pit!'' he said.
`` N-no sir, I am not sir. Lord Vader is requesting assistance. His tie advanced was blown away. The Death Star is gone.''
The sergeant looked at me, tears formed in my eyes and my hand started to shake. My wife, my son, killed by rebels. How? Why? What did they ever do? I mean sure the Empiee has it's faults but what government does n't these days? But to kill my family...
I rose to my feet, E-11 in my hand. I looked my sergeant in the eyes, and said: `` I will make every rebel pay for this!''
With that, I left the cantina and returned to the barracks. I gathered my gear and headed to the port.
A few weeks later, I heard about the offensive against the rebels on Hoth, I signed up. I am no longer fighting these terrorist for the glory of the Empire, I am doing this to avenge my wife and son. Death to the Rebels.
|
[ WP ] On a distant human colony on an alien planet everyone lives in one city , you and your crew are tasked to be the first to explore beyond the walls of the city .
|
When they re-established contact with Earth, they were laughed at, their ship called a'textbook example of poorly-programmed AI'. It carried their cryogenically preserved bodies through the galaxy in search of a planet with conditions suited for human habitation, and when it found one, autonomously established a city-sized colony for them to inhabit. Unfortunately, the conditions suitable for human habitation do not extend much further than the colony itself, because it perches atop a barren plateau which pokes up through an interminable sea of beautiful, toxic gases.
In the pursuit of more habitable space, numerous directions have been studied - tacking more structure onto the edges of the city has worked so far, as has simply building taller and taller above the plateau. However, other plateaus exist which could also support similar colonies; in addition, artificial habitats might be made to float on the boundary between the soup of deadly gases and the breathable region of the atmosphere, and according to some proposed plans, domed cities built at the actual solid surface ( like those on other less-friendly worlds ) might be an ideal solution.
While the first few solutions are pursued by more cautious investors, Yukon Interstellar Housing were interested in surface real-estate on the planet Misma. In order to even conceive of such ventures, however, they needed to know the actual conditions at the bottom of the gaseous ocean. Since even the smartest probes never return, they outsourced the exploration to Hazard Scouts exploration, a small company which made a profit by doing the most dangerous scouting jobs in all of Human-owned space.
What follows is a historical account, constructed from multiple sources, of the Hazard Scouts Eagle Crew's ill-fated mission to the true surface of the planet Misma.
-- -
The Eagle Crew had four members when it was assigned to explore the surface of Misma. Allen Martinson, Janet Ecstein, Carrie Belmont, and Herbert Thorley. With the exception of Thorley ( a new hire ), each was an experienced explorer of hostile alien environments.
Martinson, the Mission Operator, led the crew with five years of experience in exploring hostile planets. He oversaw the movement and actions of the crew through a personal display device he carried, which showed live feeds of the crewmembers' helmet-mounted cameras, recordings of which were the main source used in this reconstruction of the mission. According to his colleagues, Martinson was a friendly man and a talented leader, successfully resolving deadly situations with no loss of life on multiple previous occasions.
Ecstein was a biologist and first-contact specialist. Her wheelhouse was things that were alive, but she also dabbled in exotic fossilization ( the possible remains of previously-living aliens ) and xenogenesis ( the potential for alien life to arise later ). These fields were in their infancy at the time, and her limited knowledge would prove insufficient to deal with what the Eagle Crew would find at the surface of Misma. By all accounts she was very professional, and was even described as'level-headed' by Martinson and by Belmont as'a cool cat'.
Belmont was an astrogeologist by training and a mountaineer by hobby; both served her well in her employment at Hazard Scouts. She carried the surveying equipment, intended to help compensate for the vision-obscuring gases by mapping out the surrounding terrain with electromagnetic imaging and transmitting that data to the helmet-mounted displays of the crewmembers. No records remain of her personal life; it is speculated that she did not keep any, preferring to remain solitary outside her day job.
Thorley had been hired about a month previously, and had spent most of the intervening time undergoing training regimens and practicing in simulations to ensure he would be prepared for his first field mission. His assignment to Eagle Team was officially documented as'field training', as their next mission was expected to be a simple, run-of-the-mill mapping run of an inhospitable but static environment.
Martinson was the only one to return from the surface of Misma. What details are not shown on the records of the helmet-mounted cameras have been provided by his testimony.
-- -
More to follow...
|
[ WP ] Write about how you feel as you slowly turn into a zombie .
|
I've always been a lone wanderer. Even before the apocalypse I stuck to myself.
A coldness washes over me, it starts in my feet and crawls up towards my chest.
I do n't think I'll mind being redead, I mean no one will miss me. That's always been the reason people do n't want to die right?
The coldness reaches my waist, I shiver a little bit. I feel my muscle deteriorate, become stiff.
But what about my legacy? I've left nothing behind except some redead corpses.
The numbness starts to kick in, the cold makes it's slow crawl up through my chest.
I guess I'll have a chance to make my mark on this broken world, when I become reanimated, reborn.
The feeling reaches my arms and head, it starts enveloping my brain and my still heart.
Well here it is.
Goodbye world.
Yours truly,
Unknown.
|
[ WP ] Make me hate a character , but understand them at the same time .
|
What kind of world would this be, without people like me? Do you think the innocent and weak have a voice among the noise of our world? Do you think the multitudes of the poor and stupid have their walls and roofs by the grace of god? Do hungry, dying, sickly children deserve life just because they are born? Perhaps you said yes. Oh my friend, how naΓ―ve you are.
You see I, like many of you, I wake up and put my feet over the side of the bed. I walk my dog, put on my suit, drink my orange juice, and drive to work, the same as most of you. I admire my boss and I work hard for my money, just not like you. You see my corner office is not in New York, London, or Beijing, but here, among the suffering and turmoil of our greed. For every one of us in the rich, white, western world there is someone in the desert, the jungle, or the overcrowded city who sews your shirts and glues the bumper on your car. They are dirty, poor, lonely among thousands, empty in the mind, ravenous in the gut, and afraid in their hearts.
That fear. That fear is what I fight for. That fear the keeps people poor and silent. That fear that keeps madmen atop their thrones. A man once said β It is far better to be loved than feared. β Hmmph. That man, he was an idiot. People do not kill for love. People do not suffer the evils of love in silence. People are happy in love. They do not work their fingers to the bone every day, in love. They do not scurry around in back alleys, hiding from what they love. Most importantly, when one lives in fear and hunger, they do not look to those above them with envy, but those around them.
I hope that white comment earlier did not upset you too much. I would hate for our relationship to be defined by a prejudice. I β m not a racist, just a pragmatist. It β s true though. Find a rich man in the shits of Africa and he will be better off than the average black man in America. Pragmatist.
Now where was I? Oh yes. You see this meeting I have today, these are some nasty men. Angry, nasty men. Angry men who want vengeance. Vengeance for what, is not really for me to say, perhaps they feel their culture is under attack, or their nation is. It β s not really for me to say, I am simply here to see that β the right β people are punished. They probably want to attack America or some western European nation. That would not really be in my best interests, that is where most of my checks come from. There is certainly someone a little more suited for their retribution. Right now, in their little Arab neighbor, the people are pushing for democracy. There are protests, riots, strikes, and all the paraphernalia of governmental resistance, and that simple will not do. One of my employers has factories there and would very much like for the labor to remain cheap and the regulations to remain nonexistent and unenforceable. Such is business. And the CIA does n't want a few American lives lost.
Oh yes I do work for governments too. Frankly I β ll work for just about anyone. Companies, governments, rebel groups, spy agencies, religious groups. I really have little preference. I will say that I don β t work with Al-Qaeda. Not on any moral principle, no, sorry to disappoint. Their checks never clear and I am not a charity. Being self-employed I simply can not afford pro-bo-no work.
I think these men would best be suited attacking a school for girls. Perhaps a new church I found is being built in the capital city. Maybe a hospital for the protesters. It is really hard to say what they will bite on.
Oh come now friend. Surely you see the necessity of what I do. These people that will die, you don β t know them. You will probably never even be in the same country as them. You don β t care about them. They β re dying right now and what are you doing? You see their pictures on TV, β send a dime and feed this young man. β What did you do? Nothing. You β re killing them passively, what does it matter if I do it actively. Besides what is the alternative? Would you rather a school in Miami or a school in Baghdad? Would you rather a church in Berlin or a church in Cairo? Would you rather see flames engulf Los Angeles or Daraa? Look at that. You don β t even know where Daraa is, and you claim to care.
I do this so that you can live in peace. I do this so little soccer moms can wear their spandex, walk their shiatsus, and complain about how the gardener cuts the grass. I do this so little blonde school kids can run in the fields and chase stupid little butterflies. You sleep warm in your bed because I go bump in the night, friend.
|
[ WP ] They were n't expecting you .
|
A golden gleam came from the brass knob exposed to the sunshine by the shifting shadows of the porch. I fumbled in my pockets, blinded by the light reflecting off the whitewashed sidewalk and veneer. As my focus was drawn towards the hand wildly flailing in my pocket, I failed to notice the newspaper folded upon the ground. Stepping on the small bundle, I came to a stop as my heart sunk. I feared that I had broken something or that I had stepped in something. Much to my relief and surprise, I saw that it was simply that day's paper, which struck me as strange.
β Surely someone would've come to get it by now? β I thought to myself as I stooped down to scoop it up. β Oh well. β
Continuing up the stairs and onto the porch, I decided to turn the entire pocket inside out as my keys, wallet, and loose change clattered upon the floor. Behind the door I could hear the frantic footsteps of at least two others and whispers beyond the windowpanes. Worried, I grabbed the keys and hurriedly unlocked the door. As the door swung open and I tried my best to be prepared for anything, an ear-piercing scream deafened me. As I squinted and twisted my forefingers around in my ears, I opened my eyes to find that the room was filled with family and friends, tying off balloons as the scent of a still baking cake wafted from the kitchen. They had n't expected me so soon.
-173
|
[ WP ] In an attempt to assassinate the dictator of a dystopian society you unwittingly save their life and quickly become a hero within the `` system '' .
|
`` Son, I can not contain the underground any longer, they will destroy this city if something is n't done soon.'' The tea merchant scanned the cobbled streets, making sure they were not over heard.
`` Just because I am now in the king's inner circle does n't mean I have an opportunity to take his life. Give me one more week. The king's trust in me is increasing, I am sure I can -'' Gretund hushed as a customer approached the cart.
`` Uhh one tea please.''
`` And which tea would you like?'' The merchant said with a smile, gesturing to a book which turned out to be the list of available teas. The customer thumbed through a few pages.
`` This is all tea? Oh dear, uhh, what would you recommend?'' He said, clearly overwhelmed.
`` Well what mood are you in? Are you tired? Need to relax? Anxious? Rundown? I have tea that can make you happy, stoned, even halucinate - if your into that. Do you like fruity tea? Spicy? Savoury? Sour? I have some that helps concentrate, some will dull your pain, boost your immune system - ``
`` This one sounds nice,'' the customer said, pointing at one from the list.
The merchant brewed him cup of green tea flavored with apple and anise seed. When the customer was out of earshot, he turned back to his son.
`` Rioting has already broken out in several districts.'' The merchant said.
`` I can get the King alone, but not just yet.'' Gretund told his father. `` Look, I need to go, he has requested my council.''
--
Gretund took his seat on the lavish balcony over looking the great city of Rion. A mixture of politicians, noblemen and informants shared the king's company.
A servant delivered a pot of tea to the table filling the air with the familiar, strong malty notes of assam tea leaves. Gretund's trained nose also made out the aromatic flavors that blended pleasantly with the Indian leaves; clove, orange, cardamom and a faint hint of cinnamon. As the tea steeped, the scent intensified. Gretund furrowed his brow as he detected a sweet peppery aroma battling for attention against the other strong ingredients. He knew this smell, but could n't quite place it.
The meeting had already begun despite Gretund's mental absence. Plans to quell the cities riots were the focus of this session. A servant eagerly poured the tea, enticing those nearby with its intoxicating chai aromas.
`` Daphne Berry!'' Gretund blurted out.
The king looked surprised and turned to Gretund expectantly.
`` Whoever made that tea has poisoned it with Daphne Berries.'' Gretund explained without thinking. The servant froze. Then, while he still had the chance, dashed for the balcony and threw himself to his death. A smart choice given the king's reputation.
The table looked at Gretund in awe. The king looked impressed. Before Gretund could enjoy the attention he realized what he had just done. Saving the king's life diverged drastically from his original plan. *At least I have well and truly earned the king's trust*, he thought to himself, with a sigh.
|
[ WP ] A velociraptor-riding elf sets off on a quest ...
|
There was a sudden boom, a crack, then the splintering crash of a tree being felled.
With one hand, Aratara tightened his grip on the raptor's reins. On the other, he unhooked a long, elegant Elven lance from the back of his mount.
The thundering footsteps grew louder now, followed closely by the flight of birds, the yawning of dying pines, coming closer and closer and...
It stopped.
Aratara let out a sigh, lowering his lance. Just another tremor, it seemed...
Nope.
With a splintering crack, a massive, blood-red, Tyrannosaurus Rex burst from the forest, announcing its arrival with a deafening roar. Atop its spiky, black armored back, a brutish, masked orc wielding a freakishly big warhammer let loose a battle cry in Orcish, before digging his heels into his mount.
`` Ah, crap,'' Aratara muttered in Elvish, and, with that, he lifted his lance, flipped his visor down, and charged at the approaching dinosaur.
|
[ WP ] Write out the most recent dream/nightmare you had . Embellish it or flesh it out if you have to , just get it out there !
|
The Prince panicking drives his horse into the crowded village center ducking under low hanging signs. Looking back he can see that he's lost whoever was chasing after him. Turning into an alley the Prince takes a last look around before making sure he is safe.
`` Okay, we're going to have to part for now but I want you to meet me at the nearby temple.'' The horse nods at the Prince's command and trots into the sea of people quickly disappearing out of sight.
`` Thank the Heavens it's Market Day.'' And with that last thought the Prince throws a robe over himself and becomes engulfed by the shadows.
`` Bao Bao are you there?'' A voice, quiet as a mouse shoots into the direction of a dilapidated temple. A soft neigh quickly replies back to the whisper.
Like two hearts in sync two figures emerge out of the darkness. The Prince softly pats his horse's head and tell him that they'll stay at the temple for the night. Although Bao Bao disagrees and shows it with a disagreeing neigh, in the end he reluctantly accepts. Still unhappy at the stay for night and sensing some sort of dangerous aura Bao Bao decides to patrol the perimeter.
Unable to sleep and feeling a little adventurous the prince decides that a little exploring around the area should n't be to bad. Not only that, but the Prince somehow feels a mysterious urge to visit the nearby shrine. Approaching the shrine the Prince notices a sweet smell and faint but pleasing hum. His curiosity peaking the Prince relaxed into the shrine.
Upon walking inside the princess instantly is assaulted by the feeling of pure bliss. Looking around, the shrine is adorned with beautiful works of art, the smell of incense, and a small pond. He asks himself whether he seen this shrine like this before when he passed by this morning. Letting the thought pass the Prince listens with eyes closed to the sweet hum he hears. Just guided by his ears alone the Prince happens upon the source.
It's a woman, her voice sweet and calming as a mother to her child or wind chimes on a cool breeze. The Prince noticing that the woman is bathing quickly turns around, completely flustered, and covers his eyes with his hands. At the same time he knocks over a statue which made a loud crashing noise alerting the woman.
`` I'm sorry I did n't know anyone was here or was taking a bath I'll leave immediately!'' Stammering the Prince quickly starts bolting towards the entrance.
`` Wait, you do n't need to go, it's okay.'' Frozen in place the prince slowly turns around to get a good look at the woman.
What he sees shocks him. Snow-white flawless skin, long straight black hair that of the color of night, golden amber eyes, and a demure innocent face. An unearthly beauty. Seeing that now she has dressed herself the prince gives sigh of relief. He did not want to give off the impression that he was a creepy pervert. However this does n't stop the perverted thoughts of what's underneath the woman's dress. Thoughts which he quickly try to dismiss.
`` My name is Shu Fang, what is yours?'' Shu quickly asks the woman trying to fill in the embarrassing silence.
`` Xiu.'' She says walking seductively towards him exaggerating her feminine features.
`` Shu Fang, I'm lonely.'' Xie whispers into Shu's ear as she wraps herself around him. Unable to move out of her soft grip Shu Fang is left stuttering as he tries to explain to Xiu that he can not stay and must leave early in the morning.
Suddenly, a loud neigh like that of a desperate yell erupts from the outside. Instinctively knowing that it's Bao Bao and that he's in trouble, Shu Fang slips out of Xiu's grasp and bolts towards the entrance apologizing to Xiu for interrupting her bath. Xiu not letting a free meal leave so casually gives chase to Shu Fang.
Upon arriving outside Shu pulls out his sword and jumps on top of Bao Bao as he rushes past by. On the other side of the temple he can see a small group of soldiers sent to kill him because of the coup the put his family to death. As the realization dawns on him that he may finally be killed Shu says one quick final prayer before the soldiers rush at him and kill him. However none of the soldiers are moving. They are n't moving any closer towards the temple which leaves Shu curious as to why. Before he can ask, Xiu runs out of the shrine surprising the soldiers.
`` Grab my hand and get on!'' Shu knowing that now Xiu is also in danger, says her.
Seeing that the soldiers still are not moving towards them Shu takes this opportunity to make a quick getaway not intending to stop until he or Bao Bao is exhausted.
`` Sir, do we chase after them?'' A young soldier asks his superior.
`` No, that demon he picked up will finish the job for us.'' After replying the superior officer turns his horse and men around to start the long trek back to the capital.
There's more to the dream but I'm too lazy to finish it. If people like it then I might add in the rest.
|
[ WP ] You 're an orphan . Prospective parents want to adopt you ... and your bully .
|
The first five words out of the charmingly handsome couple's mouth compiled the greatest phrase known to my little orphan life: β We're going to adopt you... β Unfortunately, they were followed by the worst two I could have ever dreamed: β And Jason. β They smiled down at me as though they had just opened up heaven's gates so I could walk right through, with their pious clothes and their modest haircuts. Those rotten bastards. They were obviously just some cruel devil worshippers who liked to torment orphans before they sacrificed them to their dark lord.
β Oh, do you see that honey? His jaw dropped he was so excited! Is n't he just the cutest? β She cooed as she knelt down next to me. I could practically smell the blood of her previous victims on her clothes. β We saw you two playing in the yard, and we know how hard it can be to separate brothers! β
β Brothers?! β I was incredulous, β BROTHERS?! You think that me, and that lousy- β
β Brandon! β Jason roared over me as I feebly tried to explain how horrid he was. He ran in from behind the Satanists and came over to ruffle my hair. If I did n't think it would kill both of our chances of ever getting out of here, I would have socked him straight in the face right then and there. β I see you met our new mom and dad! β He smiled at them before looking at me and glaring with eyes that said β Either we both leave, or you're dead. β
I swallowed a lump while weighing the choices in my head. It did n't really seem like I had a choice, to be honest. At this time, the orphanage had maybe a few visitors a month. It was getting harder and harder for anyone to get picked by parents, and I was n't exactly the cutest kid there. I had no real talents, nobody knew who my parents had been so there was no indication of how I would turn out, and I was mediocre when it came to classes and sports. To be chosen at all was a one in a million shot to leave this place before the years would go by and I would get kicked out at 18. Given my luck, that would lead to Jason again finding me and harassing me until I withered away and died on the streets. It seemed the scale of justice had been tipped this time.
With an internal sigh and a forced smile, I managed a weak β Hey... bro... How... goes it? β It felt like the words were just diarrea dribbling out of my mouth instead of light conversation.
β Well excited, obviously! β He practically shouted it, covering his mouth quickly afterward. The β mom β covered what appeared to be a smile with her hand as she turned to her husband and giggled. She was just eating his shit up. All I could do was hope that they were the good kind of demons, the ones that fed you and turned you into gluttonous swine before they sacrificed you. At least I could have a decent meal then.
β Sorry, mom. β he said, adding emphasis for the sake of the woman. β It's just so hard to believe that this is finally happening. I thought Brandon and I would never find ourselves new parents. We were both so young when we wound up in here... β He looked down to feign sadness, and the collegiate couple bought in to his act. They almost had tears in their eyes. With any luck, they would decide he was good enough to count for both of us.
β Well we're just so happy to have found you both! β The man said. I guess I should n't say man, the way he was tearing up he was more like a child than we were. β Helen- I mean mommy and I just have to fill out some silly paperwork and talk to the caretaker and we'll see when we can pick you up! β
β Oh we're so excited too! β She patted Jason on his sandy brown hair before leaving with her husband. She was crying too, but I was more surprised that she had n't said any prayers for Satan to express how joyful she really was. Jason just smirked at me as I watched in horror as they walked away. His blue eyes glinted in the light and reflected right back at me. Hell was real. He started walking over to me, and I started backing up. He was a good foot taller than me, and he liked to show it when he towered over me. This time was almost no different, except that when I hit the wall and closed my eyes, he did n't immediately punch me in the nose or twist my nipples.
I stood there, hunched over and terrified for a good minute before I began to open my eyes. Jason looked different than normal. He was towering over me still, but this time his eyes were different. I looked harder and realized he had a tear in them. β You should n't still be afraid of me, Brandon. β His voice was a little shot. β You know... β He stopped and looked away for a second to wipe at his eyes. β... things will be different. β
I was appalled. Different? As in now I would get pillows filled with soap instead of purple nurples at night? As in he would lock me in the backyard while Mr. and Mrs. Lucifer were out shopping without us instead of just tripping me so I would fall on my face every chance he got? As in his war crimes would keep getting more and more creative now that we would be out and about in society? How would things be different?
Jason stared at me for a long moment. β You could have said we were n't brothers. β he paused. β The adoption people do n't care if we say we are or are n't anyways, as long as we're gone. You and I both know that. You're the only person who had to say something. And you did. β I could have been mistaken, but it almost looked like he was happy for once. Maybe I had just fallen down while playing earlier and cracked my head open. I was probably just having a horrible dream. Or I was finally dead. God had to answer my prayers eventually.
Jason laughed and I flinched nervously. He stopped laughing when he saw my reaction. He put his hand out and smiled. β I'm your brother now. Nobody is going to hurt you. β
|
[ WP ] Two very old immortals meet each other on a busy street by chance . Each having believed they were the only one until now .
|
Ramesses II and Alexander the Great walk into a bar. The bartender asks what'll it be? Alexander orders a long island ice tea and Ramesses orders an omelet. With a grimace the bartender says they're out of eggs. Ramsesses goes into a diabolical rage that sunders the bar and the bartender in two. Alexander takes a drink of his long island ice tea and says, `` What, no ice?'' The bar spirals out of control and the patrons run for their lives. Ramsesses goes behind the counter to find a goose hiding. He stares it in the eyes and tells him to get lost you dirty stinking homosexual goose. The goose gets wide eyed and throws ice cubes at Ramsesses, depleting the already shrinking polar ice caps. Thankfully Alexander scoops them into his drink and keeps them there for at least another decade. Global warming effects immortals too. That's why the goose got so pissed at Ramsesses. He was n't a gay goose, he was just out of luck because all the female geese migrated already thanks to the warmer seasons. In the end the goose threw Ramsesses out on his face and Alexander stumbled out to the street. The two immortals gave eachother a quick passing nod and then each went to their respective chariots to go to the separate motels they were staying in. Alexander got a ticket for driving drunk which you should never do, because even if you are an immortal, everyone else is n't.
|
[ WP ] A man wakes up from slumber to discover an unknown creature standing in the middle of his bedroom
|
The early hour sunlight crept in through the windows. I stirred, feeling rather nauseous from my night of solitary drinking. My night went like any other of my lonely nights, mixed drink, some television, followed by music before I finally stumbled into bed. A routine I came to both enjoy and dread as time progressed, dread atleast until I would be to drunk to really care.
I lay in bed, appreciating the moment, no real cares, tranquility soothed my soul. Ofcourse until I heard the stirring, unsure of the noise, and glancing around till I saw him. A short green, alien, just like what a old newspaper would depict. No more than four feet or so, two big black eyes peering out the window at his spaceship in the yard. His naked, dark evergreen skin cast a glossy reflection in the sun. Certainly, I was stunned, left breathless.
`` Hey man,'' the creature said in good English. His tone, though, sad, not of anger, or contempt. As he stood, he fumbled with a pack of cigarettes. `` Sorry to intrude like this dude, but, a guy just has to get away sometimes,'' as he struck up a smoke and inhaled.
`` What... Why... I mean, what's wrong?''
`` Women problems you could say. I was supposed to probe you while you were sleeping, but man, I do n't really feel like it. I think my girlfriend is cheating an all, oh, the whole story is rather embarrassing. I have n't slept in a few days, my work is really suffering, my stomachs are all twisted...'' He said, trailing off as he stared at his three toed feet. I was still trying to analyze my situation.
`` Why do n't you just ask?'' He shrugged.
`` Do n't matter does it? Either way the answer will be no. Anyways, I really got to get going, but I'll be back. I do have to collect your liver when you fall back asleep. So.. sorry an all man.''
|
[ WP ] The year is 2016 . The Brooklyn DA 's office just instituted a rule that all incoming prosecutors must spend a week in maximum security prison before being hired .
|
`` Hey Billy, did Janie in HR send up the rΓ©sumΓ©s to fill the empty prosecutor positions yet?'' asked Brooklyn District Attorney Ricardo Gonzalez as he adjusted his tie.
`` She says we do n't got any, sir,'' replied Billy, `` It turns out nobody wants to go through law school to spend a week getting beat on in Max just to apply for a $ 40k/yr job in Brooklyn...''
`` Shit,'' grumbled Ricardo. `` Better get Amy ahead of this with the press right now.''
`` On it boss!,'' Billy said as he scurried down the hall to the communication director's office. `` Amy, we really fucked up on this prison idea. We've got to walk it back. Ca n't look like the boss' fault.''
`` Fucking cock! I told him this idea was stupid as shit!'' replied Amy, `` It's what he gets for listening to those stupid fucking activists. They do n't even vote anyways. Let me get Marty on the phone down at DOC. Maybe I can get him to say he put the kibosh on the program for safety reasons or some shit!''
`` Marty? Marty? Put Marty on the phone,'' Amy rushed through her sentences annoyed with the secretary on the other line, `` Marty! How's it going? You still playing tennis? Me and Ralph will have to get out and have a couples' game with you and Kayla this summer!'' she schmoozed, `` Hey listen, Marty, we need a favor. We really screwed the pooch on this whole making newbies spend a week in Max idea. Nobody's fucking applying. Can you shut down the program on a technicality for us.''
`` I do n't know, Amy. Why should I do that?'' Marty asked.
`` Because me and the DA will owe you one,'' Amy replied.
`` How bout you give me one first, then I'll cover your asses on this one,'' Marty asked.
`` What do you want,'' Amy said defeated.
`` My niece is getting out of college. She does n't have a job lined up. Maybe you get her in to the mail room or something where she ca n't screw up and start her around $ 40k, and I'll see what I can do.'' Marty offered.
`` Fuck. You know the budget's tight, Marty!'' Amy said. `` Hold on.'' She put her hand over the phone's receiver and turned to Billy, `` Go ask the boss if he can spare $ 40k salary for Marty's niece,'' she said.
Billy replied, `` Fuck me, I do n't want to be involved in this shit,'' as he ran down the hall. `` Um, sir'' he knocked on Ricardo's open door, `` Marty wants a $ 40k mail room job for his niece for taking this issue on the chin for you...''
`` That dirty cock! Tell him I want a $ 2,500 donation from him AND his wife for my re-election and he's got a deal.'' Ricardo said.
`` I really hate being party to this shit,'' Billy grumbled and he headed back down the hallway towards Amy's office,
`` Boss says throw in a $ 5k donation and it's a deal,'' Billy writes on a sticky pad and hands to Amy,
`` Ok Marty. He'll do it. But he wants a $ 5k donation. Max from you and the wife this time.'' Amy spoke quietly into the phone.
`` Maybe I'll just leave him hanging out to dry then,'' Marty threatened.
`` And maybe this conversation is part of a sting operation to prosecute corruption,'' Amy fired back more loudly this time.
`` Okay, okay, I'm just fucking around,'' Marty replied.
`` Good. Then it's settled. Send her to me next Tuesday afternoon. Get me the checks before then. We'll fill out the paperwork, then you cancel this program so we can run another job search.'' Amy said more calmly this time.
`` No problem. Bye-bye.'' Marty replied.
Amy hung up the phone. `` Next time he gets a stupid fucking idea like this, you better remind him Billy!''
`` Why am I always in the middle?'' Billy asked, as he slunk out of Amy's office and back to his own...
|
[ WP ] Write a story set on earth , with no aliens , no superpowers , no mysterious tattoos or numbers , and with no references to god whatsoever
|
`` Order, order!'' Mariah Jones called out, `` I call this emergency town hall session to order! Now settle down.'' The cacaphony of the audience hushed itself to a murmur.
`` Let's begin this meeting now, at 10:46 AM, on the morning of Wednesday, October 26, uh...'' Mariah quickly looked up to try and figure out what year it was, then remembered and concluded, `` 2016.'' The crowd nodded in tentative agreement.
`` We're here today in this emergency session to discuss the fact that our head numbers are missing now, and what we're gon na have to do about it.'' The audience started building their crescendo of noise again as they all looked over each others heads and saw nothing.
`` Now, I know this carries huge implications for our society, not having any of our human metrics anymore.'' Murmured assent. `` But we're going to have to figure out a way to get along, and we ca n't stop judging people by the big green number over our heads.''
A man in the back piped up, `` Wait, you mean'number of convenience stores visited in the last week'?''
`` No, Mr. Smith, the other big green number that says how much money we've earned in the last month. The one next to the pink number. Is n't the convenience store number kind of small, and behind a blue number?'' Mariah corrected him.
`` Oh yeah, the blue number that said how many times today someone was thinking of us romantically!'' A girl up front excitedly squeaked out. She looked up to check it, and was immediately silenced when she saw nothing but florescent lights.
A rather bold-looking tall girl in the middle stood up. `` Well, how are we supposed to protect ourselves from criminals, now that we ca n't see the red'crimes committed in this lifetime' number on the left?''
`` Well --'' Mariah tried to add, before she was cut off again.
`` And I'm seeing a cute girl,'' this time from the back, `` but I have no idea what her'romance credit rating is', the pink one that's behind the black'letters in middle name' number! I do n't wan na get trapped in an abusive relationship!''
`` That's easy,'' Mariah quickly interjected, `` just check her brown'number of times you slapped someone else' numb... oh, right.''
`` Look, I think one of three things is going to happen here, people. Either we dissolve into chaos because we do n't have a goddamn rainbow of numbers overhead,'' Mariah added, expecting the rainbow-colored'number of times you've said rainbow in your life' number to increment over her head, then sighing, `` or we're going to have to write these numbers down and ask people about them, or finally, we can just fucking trust people,'' she concluded, relieved that the white'number of F-bombs dropped' did n't count up in front of the whole town hall meeting.
Everyone grumbled something about trust and filed out of the room. Oh lord.
|
[ WP ] You 're the bartender at the most popular intergalactic bar in the galaxy , and you 've seen a lot of strange beings stopping in for a drink .
|
Roy sighed heavily, glancing toward the doors. He looked out over his waitstaff. As the head bartender at the Last Resort, he felt the same way he did every night: He did n't relish having to put these people through another night of this. He saw his experienced wait staff, worn out, bedraggled, and some scarred. He saw his new wait staff, fresh-faced and wary.
`` Alright, team,'' he said heavily. `` You know the drill. If you're new, buddy up with someone with some experience to show you the ropes. We've got a party of Na'vi coming in, so Steve, Roy, and Tom, I'm going to need you to get out the big chairs. Lift with your legs, not with your back. Remember guys, do n't seat imperials next to rebels, do n't seat Romulans next to Vulcans, put the Klingons in the private section by themselves, and for the love of god keep Arthur Dent out of here.''
Someone raised a hand. `` Er, we have like, intergalactic space pirates in here. What did Arthur Dent do to get himself banned?''
Roy paled, then waved a hand as if he could just wave the subject away. And being the boss, he could.
An hour later, the evening was in full swing.
A group of young men in bright red starfleet uniforms came in and seated themselves in the Indigo room. Roy hit his communicator. `` Sadie, get medical to the Indigo room.'' Her voice came back, `` But Roy, I do n't see-'' she was interrupted by the sound of laser blasts and screaming.
Roy kept polishing a glass. A pig-faced man and his walrus-faced companion approached the bar. `` Barkeep! ``, he yelled. Roy took his time, keeping an eye on the medical team making their way to the Indgo room. The pig faced man reached out, grabbing Roy's arm, pointing a finger in his face. `` You best watch yourself, buddy, I'm wanted for murder on twelve systems.''
Roy, looking bored, gently extracted his arm from the man's grip, then poured him a hull stripper and gave him a towel. `` What's the towel for?'' asked the fugitive. Roy glanced over his shoulder at the old man and the farm boy coming in the door, shrugged, and headed to the other side of the bar.
A man in a mustard colored starfleet uniform greeted him with a winning smile.
`` Hello there my good man, I was wondering-''
Roy pointed over his shoulder. `` The ladies are that way.'' The man in the mustard tunic hastened in that direction.
Roy's attention was already on the next customer.
`` Good evening, Mr. Bowman,'' he said. Bowman smiled. `` Call me Dave. Whiskey, please.''
Roy poured him a double.
Bowman started. `` I did n't ask for a double.''
Roy smiled sympathetically. `` On the house, buddy, you're gon na need it.''
|
Using this comment , flesh things out , add details , and make the story your own . ( Link inside )
|
The body was mutilated, to say the least. Torn apart as if by some ungodly beast, scraps of bark and shreds of leather firmly jammed into the wounds. My friend says that was the worst part of the job, next to the stench. Sometimes you could make out that the body had been human, but he told me this was one of the more difficult ones to really rationalise. Human or no, though, he had a job to do, and he intended to do it.
Atleast, until he noticed a peculiar little thing peeking out of one of the gaping holes in the cadaver's face. Tiny little thing, nothign more than an off-white sliver of horn or nail.'Course, that begged the question: where'd it come from. The firemen joked and jested about bigfoot or chupacabra, laughing as they started their routine. Thing was, though... there really was no way for that miniscule thing to get there. Atleast, had it been a proper accident: an animal attack would leave similar wounds, he reasoned. But that still would n't explain how the body got tangled up int the branches; nothing that big nor intelligent lived in the area.
It was n't until the body had been put away safely and the firemen were on their way off to wherver when my friend saw it; the blood. Sure, he'd seen the blood along the tree and ground, that much was obvious enough. No... it was the *way* the blood was. Thicker along the bottom of the tree, like it had pooled there. Which did n't make sense, considering: the poor man would have died on impact with the branches, so the blood, by all rights, should have slowly dripped down...
This was n't the last time my friend saw this, mind you. Fair few people in the next few weeks started having accidents along that road, all dying form major trauma or the like. Yet, everytime he came to clean, there was always something off about the scene. Blood in the wrong places, more wounds than there should have been, or almost no wounds at all where there should be almost total mutilation. Then, it just sort of stopped. He did n't go down to that neck of the woods for the rest of his career, he tells me, but he still thinks about it. All those bodies... all those obscurities... something did n't add up. He could n't take it: he went looking.
Gauging from the fact I have n't heard from him in twenty years, I reckon he found something.
( Just a quick little thing continuing form your extract. Its by no means my best work, but hey, I have n't written in a long while and I needed the practice. )
|
[ cw ] Take a pre-existing block of text . Delete words , letters and punctuation to create something new . You can not add anything or change the order .
|
Source: `` A comparison of the accuracy of several hip center location prediction methods.'' Bell et al., J. Biomech. 23, 1990. P 618.
Text:
We ~~evaluated the accuracy of Andriacchi's~~ approach ~~ ( estimating the HC to 1.5 cm distal to~~ the midpoint ~~of~~ a line between ~~the ASIS and p~~ u ~~bic~~ s ~~ymphysis in the frontal plane, and directly medial to the greater trochanter ) in live subjects by first making~~ two ~~assumptions: ( 1 ) that~~ we could place ~~the ASIS, pubic symphysis, and~~ greater ~~trochanter markers~~ direc ~~tly on the y-z plane loca~~ tion ~~ ( ASIS and pubic symphysis ) or x-y plane location ( greater trochanter ) of those landmarks, and ( 2 ) that~~ we could rel ~~iably estim~~ ate the distance between ~~the centroids of the ASIS and pubic symphysis markers and the actual bony landmarks ( the~~ soft ~~tissue/marker~~ offset ~~ ). ~~
Poetry:
We approach the midpoint
a line between us two
we could place greater direction
we could relate the distance between
soft offset
EDIT: Now I'm done.
|
[ WP ] It seems as though you 're the last person on Earth , you ca n't find anyone . However you can still talk to people on your phone . To them the world is fine , but you apparently disappeared .
|
At first, the world was my stage for a constant albeit lonely music video. My heartache was quickly abolished by the ability to listen to music and see the city I lived alone in a way no one else before me had.
I learned to love songs I previously had a disdain for, and I felt happy. I wore whatever I want, if I wore anything at all, because there was no one to dress for. In my isolation I was free.
My phone rang, it was mum again. She called me numerous times a day claiming that I had `` run away'' and she was worried, they all were. By now, however, she did have some concept that my environment was most peculiar. She did n't know exactly why but every time she called there was a quiet beeping on the line and distorted voices that belonged to no one.
`` Hiya, mum. You all right?'' She told me before that my cheeriness when we spoke unnerved and angered her. I could n't help it though, I was cheery.
`` No, Dam, I am not all right. We managed to track your phone. Were you in those stupid tunnels again? Is that where you are now?'' She sounded annoyed and desperate.
*Tunnels*. My thoughts were collecting themselves. I had flashbacks of my legs stumbling around in a dark, grey concrete hallway. *those tunnels... * Why had I been down there? The city tunnels were dangerous and I had nearly lost my life the previous time I explored them.
Yes. That is how I arrived here, through the tunnels. Went in one entrance, and the exit I emerged from brought be right back where I started but it was all somehow different. I was on a movie set.
Just not sure if I was acting for someone in particular.
`` Dam?'' My mum called out my name from the phone.
`` Yes. Sorry. Mum, I have to go, I'll call you back.'' I was getting another call from an unknown number. Strange, usually I could only receive calls from people who I had listed in my contacts.
*UNKNOWN*
I accepted the call.
`` Put on some clothes, and get ready to run for your life.''
|
[ WP ] A invincible , immortal man is sentenced to `` death '' for a murder he did n't commit .
|
They stood around the tree, cackling and castling long shadows from the lit torches they had thrown on the dry ground. Their mouths twisted in malicious grins and the fires reflected in their eyes as though the hatred in their hearts could be seen through the windows to their twisted souls.
They had thrown a noose over a thick branch and were now waiting impatiently for the leader of their cabal as he viciously beat the victim of their mock trial. The accused's hands were bound behind his back and his feet were lashed together but he made no motion to struggle or defend himself from the strikes and blows that rained down on him. One of the men spoke to the leader. `` Sheriff, you's been beatin' on that nigger lover fo' a while le's jus' get on wit' it!''.
The lawman turned around, beads of sweat adorned his forehead as he bent down and placed his hat back on his head. The star on his chest glowed in the dimness. `` Yeah, he's had enough I think.''
`` Nigger lover did'n' even call out once.'' One of the group whispered. The victim raised his head and spoke. `` That's because you boys hit like little girls.
The lawman turned around and his heel flew into the prisoners face, after a few moments he raised it again from the ground and shot his captors a grin. They lifted him to his feet and placed the noose around his neck when he spoke again. `` You killed those girls because they were going to tell people about what you were doing to them.''.
The lawman glared at his captive. `` That was just some fun and I run this go' damn town, so I'll do as I please whether that's fuckin' them little whores or hangin' a nigger lover like you and tellin' everybody that you killed'em, you're gon na be the talk of the town John my boy, so you got any last words?''
John looked at his would-be killer and murmered. `` Not any last ones.''. The men began to hoist him up and his legs dangled high above the grass. After a few minutes he went limp and his captors satisfied with their work left but had they chosen to come back they would have seen their victim loop his bound hands under his legs and begin to climb the rope he was hanging from.
John had been in similar situations before and thought to himself that when he had been hung in what was now called Sweden centuries before they had done a better job than the sheriff and his cronies but that time had n't compared to when he was crucified on the Tree of Woe well before that.
He dropped to the ground and rubbed his already healing neck and thought to himself that he would be leaving Tennesse soon. He only hoped that the sheriff and his boys had n't been smart enough to find the evidence he had stashed in his house.
He thought to himself as he turned toward town that the 1960's was shaping up to be one of the strangest times he had lived in and began to walk back to finish this business.
|
[ WP ] An incompetent alien archeologist is giving a presentation on some Earth artifacts he found . Like in the Little Mermaid , he has no idea what they actually are .
|
`` This next piece is of significant importance to the revolutionary war of 1915 in the Province of Canada.'' The bright lights of the cameras reflected off the archaeologists scaly features as he held `` This artifact in particular is rumored to have belonged to the supreme ruler himself, George Washington.''
`` Tell us Professor, what exactly is it?'' said the lively reporter
`` Well judging by the rivets on the sides, and the features on the back of the resonator cap here. I believe we are looking at what ancient humans referred to as a bicycle.''
`` A bicycle? Really? tell us more about them.''
`` Well back in the year 1313 B.A. there was...''
The reporter interrupts him `` B.A.? What does that mean professor?''
`` Before Annihilation, now please do try to pay attention my child.'' ahem `` As I was saying, in 1313 a human by the name of Albert Einstein discovered a way to harness the power of molecular division just as we did hundreds of eons ago, but he did not have the knowledge on how to sub-route the emitted Gama radiation from the nuclear fission during the burning process. So naturally he was unable to discover sub-terrainious transfusion and make light speed particle harvesting probable.''... `` The result of his failed experiment? The bicycle.''
The reporter was now wide eyed, and utterly confused. `` How very... Interesting... Please go on.''
`` Well once Mr. Einstein realized what he had discovered. He sold all his research to the military, thus assuring that they would win the war of 1915.'' The archaeologist then takes a sip of Gorgon Dew from his canteen, and continues.. `` You see my child, the user would sit on top of the bicycle on this cushioned seat here, which protects the user from rectal probage. Then using their legs they would rotate the power generator here with sheer manual labor, giving power to the main capacitor through these wires that run from the front and back acoustic field disruptors and connect them to these activator rods on the front safety bars.'' `` If pedaled at the perfect RPM, the two spinning acoustic field generators would allow the user to enter a trans dimensional speed bubble which would render him able to cross large areas of the battlefield in a fraction of the time, due to proportionate physicality and the bending of the visible light spectrum around the acoustic fields. Thus enabling, Pro-Terrainious Sub-Par Teleportation. Better known as PST. Truly a wonderful machine.''
At this point the reporter and her camera assistant were completely dumbstruck.
`` Do n't worry dear, you can learn more about it if you attend my afternoon seminar tomorrow where I will go more in depth into the intricacies of the bicycle and I will also unveil my latest discovery. The most dangerous weapon in the human arsenal, capable of killing millions of them at a time, And what some scientists believe is the direct cause of their extinction. The Keyboard.''
|
[ WP ] The person you 're dating is exhibiting stereotypical signs of being a wizard/witch . You 're fairly certain he/she IS a wizard/witch . He/she is fairly bad at trying to convince you otherwise .
|
`` There! Right fucking there!'' I exclaimed, pointing at Mark's cup.
He looked at me with an eyebrow raised, morning coffee halfway to his lips. `` There what darling?''
`` The sugar. You just poured sugar out of that shaker, even though I completely emptied it before you woke up.'' I told him.
`` You... emptied our sugar thingy? Why?'' Mark asked.
That was the question. Why. Let's put this into some context. Mark and I had been dating for two years, and I've got ta tell you - there have been some magical times in there. And no, not just the cheesy `` love is great'' kind of magical - actual magical times.
See, Mark is a wizard.
Or at least I'm like... 90 % sure Mark is a wizard. Most of the time it's just little impossible things. Getting sugar from empty sugar shakers, any size of shirt will fit him, he always wins at least a fiver from instant scratchits. Mundane miracles. But then there's the bigger stuff. He cavorts with all manner of... things. I'm fairly sure our current landlord is a unicorn. It barely seems legal, but we get good rent. Whenever we want to hang out with someone, we just open the door and hey - there we are, at their house. It all adds up. Once, I woke up to find the biggest bouquet of flowers I've ever seen at the foot of my bed. That last one probably was n't magic but it was pretty sweet.
BUT any time I bring it up, he denies it.
`` Mark are you a wizard'' I'll ask him, and every time the answer is the same - `` No of course I'm not a wizard. Wizards are n't real'' and that's the end of it. So lately I've been trying to catch him in the act. Setting little traps. Buying XXS shirts, rigging a scratchit to lose, cutting his brake line - but he always gets away with it. Not this time though. This time, I made sure that there was no sugar in the house. Which brings us to his question.
`` You... emptied our sugar thingy? Why?'' Mark asked.
`` To prove that you're a wizard!'' I said
`` No of course I'm not a wizard. Wizards are n't real'' he said, tone and inflection identical to every other time he's said it
`` Then explain the sugar thing!'' I told him
`` You've gone crazy?'' he said and winked.
I almost laughed, but today it had to end. `` I'm serious,'' I said `` It was empty. Completely empty - how did you get sugar out of it?''
`` Through... not wizardry?'' Mark said, lying badly.
`` Oh really? Not wizardry?'' I scoffed. `` Not wizardry would be refilling it from the sugar jar, maybe fucking up and refilling from the salt jar on accident. But I have both of those jars right here,'' I pulled them out from my purse and set them on the table before continuing, `` and you did n't use either.''
Mark was really starting to sweat now. I continued putting the heat on.
`` And what about that scratchit yesterday? It was blank when I bought it, but you still won $ 20 off that. Or your car? Severed brake lines for weeks and you're still driving it like a champ. And the shirts, Mark. You have a 23 inch chest but a shirt with an 18 inch chest will still fit you. It does n't add up Mark, and I'd like you to come clean with me''
Mark sighed heavily and looked me in the eyes. `` Look Kate, the truth is... I'm gay.''
`` No you're not, Mark. Gay people do n't get any of those things.'' I said
`` How about I'm... born again?'' he said, grasping at any straw he could think of. Mark did n't do great under pressure. Well I mean, he's a wizard. He does better than most people.
This one was easy. `` Nope. Power of God is more'water to wine' or'water to blood' or'walking on water'. There's no water in a scratchit.''
`` Would you believe...'' Mark started before his eyes widened like bowling balls `` Oh shit I lent mum the car. She's not a wiz- uh, she wo n't know about the brakes. Got ta go!''
Mark kissed me on the forehead, put his robe and pointed hat on, and vanished.
I sipped my sugarless tea and glared at where he had been. Damn he was good at getting out of awkward conversations.
|
[ WP ] Write a story of an aliens account of the frightening creatures , humans .
|
First of all, let me say that there are a lot of procedures that are employed to help prevent the kind of scenario which I'm about to describe. Panels, assembled from thinkers with an array of expertise, practical experience, and academic knowledge, assess the pros and cons of various protocols, anticipate various hazards, and agonize, literally endlessly ( since new panels are being convened all the time ), about how to make interspecies contact as safe as possible. To give you an example of the lengths to which our experts go, a three month panel, involved 24 experts, was convened solely to answer the question of best practice when dealing with creatures whose physiognomy involves radioactive isotypes - this despite the fact that no such creature has ever been encountered, and that we are close to achieving consensus that such a creature is either impossible or at least highly improbable.
So it is not for lack of care, either on the part of our exploratory organizations, or indeed on my part, that the following occurred. In fact, interspecies contact is an inherently hazardous and unpredictable business - I am afraid this is just how it is.
We began as we always did - hovering down on an unpopulated area, emitting alif rays ( which are known to be inimical to feelings of fear in over 98 % of organisms ), and then simply using the matter attractor to gently lift them up. Incidentally, we observed all of the protocols appropriate to type B frangible-fluid-vertebrates with the matter attractor - developed over seventeen years during a total suspension of interspecies contact procedures which was rushed forward when type B frangible-fluid-vertebrates were first discovered - but I digress.
In the lab, the first thing we noticed about the creature was its eerie symmetry. Obviously, like many of the characteristics here we had already observed this when viewing the society from afar; but up-close and personal it is difficult to describe how uncanny the experience is. The particular creature in question was oddly pink, and had many of its features in twos. The more significant protrusions appear to be the four extensive outgrowths from the `` torso'' area; two virtually identical outgrowths to support its body weight, keeping it bizarrely erect from the ground, and two further - *also* *identical* - outgrowths with which it would manipulate structures and objects in its environment.
The symmetry, however, did not end here. A smaller outgrowth existed - this performed no obvious function, but appeared to us at the time to primarily serve as a sort of bizarre sense-organ hub. Two devastatingly ugly orbs were literally crammed into the top of this fifth protrusion - parts of which were reminiscent of snail shells - which appeared to be sensitive to light particles, perhaps enabling them to gather some sort of rudimentary information, although this would obviously be completely confounded if any obstacles were in the way, as these would clearly prevent the path of any light particles. Two holes were also in the centre of the fifth protrusion, and two spiral-shaped flaps on either side. The overall effect? A sort queasy ridiculousness.
Things became stranger when we removed the garments which clothed the creature's body - humans are one of the creatures who are unable to properly biologically regulate their temperatures, so such garments appear to be necessary for the human. Preliminary reports indicate that it is indeed a universal practice among them to wear such garments, but, interestingly, this does not appear to predict the variety in such garments regarding materials and colours.
What was truly bizarre was that when we removed the clothes - and the following details are verified by video footage as well as eyewitness testimony - there appeared to be no processing organs visible. My second-in-command, upon witnessing this, instantly lost consciousness, and the other scientists present all evacuated their bowels in shock. Struggling to maintain professionalism, I tried to maintain focus, but at this point the human began to struggle and become active.
It was at this point that we realised that humans are capable of moving virtually soundlessly. Thinking about this now, I think what is truly chilling about this human soundlessness may well not so much lie in the obvious, but in thinking about the effect on human society of this soundlessness. What kind of culture could form in the absence of the sound of movement? What kind of low lifeform would prosper in such a society?
At the time, my thoughts were not so reflective. Trying to process what I was witnessing, I watched as the creature soundlessly moved from one end of the lab to the other. Its outer layer disgustingly smooth - no moving parts were evident in any of the footage captured - two more of my assistants fainted, and the subject began to attempt to use the analytical dial in the lab.
Given that the following events are extremely upsetting to me, and that this portion of the event is widely known and notorious, I wish to omit discussion of this in the present account, save for the necessity of clarifying that all efforts were made to prevent the death of the human, and that the death of the human was extremely rapid, as the life support conditions which resulted from human tampering were utterly inimical to its biological survival.
|
[ WP ] Doctor Who shows up on Krypton before it blows up .
|
`` Hey there, yes, you're Jor-El? Fantastic, I'm the Doctor, now whats this youre working on here''...
Jor-El stood dumbstruck, this stranger had just appeared in a long robe, seemed to know him intimately, and displayed the most impressive credentials in his quick wave of a hand that Jor-El had ever seen. Now he was rooting around in the rocket destined to save Jor-El's son.
`` Now hold on just a minute, who...''.
The intimate stranger interrupted as quickly `` No time, not who, just the Doctor here; And you Jor-El are in some trouble. Dont you see how this rocket will never leave the explosion radius of the core?'' Waving around a silver stick the stranger had n't even lifted his head to address Jor-El but had drowned his concerns in his rapid fire speech.
The shaking planet interrupted the monologue. And the Doctor turned to Jor-El.
`` I'm so sorry, so very sorry, Jor-El''. His eyes stared unblinking. Jor-El saw a young man, no older than his second decade but his eyes... the impression that this man was ancient, older than him, older than the closest star struck home. It was strange gazing into eyes that old. The Doctor continued, `` You already know this, but the Core is unstable, theres no time and this planet will be gone. I'm so sorry there's nothing I can do''. The imperceptible tear left one of the ancient orbits, and Jor-El watched it trace a tiny wet line down a crack in the face that had clearly been well used over a long time despite the youth. The stranger averted his gaze and returned to the rocket.
`` How did you get here?'' Jor-El inquired- The spaceports were closed to inbound flights, the system's arbiter had been notified of the impending destruction, and there no longer was any traffic off or onto the planet.
The Doctor continued working undettered, waving the same silver stick, making humming noises and seemed entirely undistracted by the continuing quakes. `` Ah there it is!'' the Doctor exclaimed, ant Jor-El gaped as his rocket opened and Kal-el's birth matrix fell into the strangers outstretched hands.
`` Wait just a minute, what are you doing, he needs to leave, to save him...'' Jor-El's tears came now, his only son had left the safety of the rocket that needed to depart within seconds, the repairs were n't done, the engine was n't ready, and how the fragile child had been removed from the protective innards.
`` I'm so sorry, Jor-El, I ca n't save the rest, I ca n't save you, but I can save this one child''. The same ancient eyes turned to his again. The tear was there again, staining the young man's cheek, and falling softly on the shaking ground. `` I can save this child, Jor-El, will you let me?''
There was neither a choice nor time left to him. `` Yes, save him, do what you must, but my son must live''. The words left Jor-el quickly, he had not had time to complete his work, and the shaking was progressing quicker than anticipated. `` Whoever you are, wherever you're from, I do n't know why, but I trust you, trust you to save my son''.
The eyes linked with Jor-El's once again, no words left the Doctor's mouth but the gaze imparted a strength and durability that Jor-El had never seen in a mortal being. Half a second later, the eye turned, and the Doctor moved briskly to the blue box in the corner of the room. Jor-El only now noticed it, and it had never been here before. Is that how he arrived?
The Doctor opened the door and turned back, the baby safely swaddled in his arms. `` Goodbye Jor-El, be with the stars, we have to leave now''. Both of them glanced at Jor-El's monitor. The core was critical, the temperature had spiked to 9010 % and the shaking was no longer tolerable. As Jor-El fell to his knees, he saw the door slam to the blue box and a light began to glow atop it. Intermixed with the sounds of the shaking planet, and the screams of the dying, the sound of whirring and humming came from the box. As the laboratory collapsed, the box faded from view just as Jor-El's life and every soul on Krypton was extinguished.
Notes: The doctor can not prevent this moment in history based on events in the DW universe, as well as the Superman timeline must be relatively preserved. These events seem the most logical intertwining of the two storylines.
|
[ WP ] There is a position within Government who 's sole task is to assassinate the president when instructed to . Write from their perspective on the day they are called on to perform their duty .
|
I was never one for `` politics''. Not saying I'm not involved in the system, because that would be a lie. I do n't lie. I also do n't vote. Red, blue, it's all they same. They get their script from the same people I get mine from. The only difference between me and them is mine was always blank.
Until it was n't.
The President on a personal level was a good man. He followed his lines to the dot, as he should. His charisma was awe inspiring, like a master actor performing Shakespeare. He had a charm that seemed to make their words his own. Towards the end of his last term however, he did what one must never do with Shakespeare. Improvise.
He was pulling out of `` The War on Hope'' as the media called it. Some war in some country. The name does n't matter, though if your reading this you already know. I knew it as `` Operation Sticky Note.'' The script said that he would pull out 25 % of the troops immediately, and implement a plan to remove `` a strict percentage every year, until our troops are home''. This was of course a lie. The real plan was to withdraw a percentage of the troops, but in the next election put them all back. But that was the line that could of saved his life. Ten words to put a nation at ease. Ten words to provide me with peace.
I always watched the speeches closely, with my copy in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other. I knew I'd need a drink if what I saw on screen did n't match what I had on paper. You'd think after 20 years of doing this job it'd get easier. It never does. It's an odd combination of feelings, for sure. It reminded me of my time during the Great World War, the moment before we struck. The moment your blood pushes through your veins a thousand miles per hour, every thought you've ever had rushes through your head, and the only peace of mind you get is `` I'm just a cog doing it's job in the machine, and our machine is better than yours''. Imagine that feeling crammed into a 6'2 man sitting alone not in a warzone, but at a small sleepy tavern in the middle of nowhere.
`` My Fellow Americans,'' he began. They always start the speeches the same way. They never mess that up. Thats the easy part.
As his speech went on, he did things that were typical of him. The occasional off the script joke, pauses in the wrong places. I enjoyed his speeches because he always made them seem like he was actually the one who came up with the expressions. He made you honestly believe he was the man in charge. Until I looked into my hand and was reminded of the role he played. It was the last page, I remember. The very last page. He finished a finely polished sentence and paused. He paused for maybe a moment, but it was a moment longer than I cared for. He casually looked to the right, then to the left. Looking straight into the camera, he said, defiantly `` This war is over. Our boys are going to be home for Christmas. All of them. The only thing we will leave behind is an infrastructure that we can not fix, and have no right to control. It will take time, but I feel that without our involvement they will have a stronger chance of rebuilding. If they need our help, they have our number. Thank you, and God Bless...''
By the time he said `` our boys'' my phone had already been alerted. The phone was effectively dead, and could only receive incoming messages from one number. It was one way communication, because unlike the president, I did n't speak. So I did all I could do. I drank. About halfway through the handle, I looked at my phone and saw the message.
`` Make it bloody''.
I just whipped this up before class, I'd love some criticism. I have n't written in a few years, but I saw this prompt and thought I'd have a go. Hope someone likes it!
|
[ WP ] You are so focused on listening to music and browsing reddit on your phone , that you walk in to hostage situation in a Starbucks .
|
At first, Blake thought the yells telling him to get down came from the new Skrillex album that he was listening too. Oddly enough, The yells were perfectly synced to the bass drops. Satisfied with what he was hearing, he added the song to his play list. As he was opening r/news on his phone he was pistol wiped and swiftly meet the floor. His headphones fell out, phone swept across the floor, and vision blurred.
Drawn out of his confused state as he felt a throbbing pain on the back on his head, he noticed the main headline `` 17th Street, New York Starbuck's Hostage Situation.'' He was shocked as he realized that he was in the 17th street Starbucks.
`` Get Up!'' Blake heard as he looked up. His assailant was bulky and wore a Hulk mask. His voiced sounded as if he was speaking from his belly.
`` Are you deaf!'' said the Hulk while lifting his boot up prepared to stomp.
Blake braced himself for another blow when an Iron Man masked assailant intervened.
`` Do n't kill him, the more hostages the better.'' said Iron Man and he pushed his partner and pointed at a row of horrified hostages in the back, signaling Blake to go there.
`` This is just chance that I needed'' Thought Blake. `` You have made a grave mistake'' he said smiling at his assailents.
`` What the f*ck'' said the hulk confused.
`` I have spent 10,000 hours on r/selfdefense'' said Blake standing up.
`` R dash what?, Never mind'' Iron man said as he lifted his gun.
Before he could even blink Blake rolled twice on the ground, uppercuted Iron Man and snapped his neck.
`` Oh my god, What are yo..'' said the Hulk till Blake delivered a flying kick to his abdomen before he could finish his word.
`` According to r/atheism there is no god, he ca n't help you here'' said Blake
The hulk grunted before letting out a measly `` do n't kill me please''.
Blake picked up the gun and his phone sitting at his feet. He pointed at his target and pulled the trigger. It did not go off.
`` What the..'' said Blake surprised.
`` I'm gon na F*** your S*** up,'' said the Hulk lifting himself off his knees and prepared to charge.
Quickly Blake unlocked his phone and went to - How to Shoot a Glock- r/explainlikeimfive.
The Hulk was no match for Blake's superior reediting skills as before the Hulk could even get to Blake he had read the post, upvoted it, commented, and received gold for a bad one liner. All before switching the safety off, aiming the gun, and shooting the Hulk.
`` Now who needs PTSD counseling, I have spent quite a bit of time on r/mentalhealth and I think I can help'' said the blood soaked Blake grinning at the astounded hostages in the midst of two dead corpses.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
This is my third story ever. Please respond with comments or critiques. Hopefully, it is as humorous to you as it was to me while writing this.
|
[ WP ] When someone dies , Death allows them to take one item with them to the afterlife.To Death 's displeasure , you choose a resurrection machine as your item .
|
`` Dude. No.''
`` What? You said one item. I want to take the machine.''
`` Man,'' he said angrily. `` You ca n't, look, it's not like, that's not gon na help you. Listen, you're dead. You're going away. Forever. Like, this is it ``
`` Okay, well so what? It's not like I have a list made up. Come on, I was just showering. You do n't think of this stuff while washing your balls.''
He turned away and leaned on my stove. Was it even my stove anymore? I'm dead. He's right. Ca n't take it with me. Well... I guess I COULD. But if it was gon na be something to cook food I might as well take-
`` Oh! Dammit.''
`` Yes! Dammit! Pick something else! Anything! Now do you see-'' Death spoke exasperated and annoyed.
`` No, not that. I'm TAKING the machine. It's just that I wanted to try the Butterfinger in the freezer.'' I waved my hand at the fridge dismissively.
Death turned again, and almost threw himself at me. `` WHAT? WHY? WHA-EW! Dude. What? Did it melt?'' He leaned back into the stove again and with one arm on his hip he rested his head in the other.
He did n't look like Death. It was n't a clichΓ©d robe or anything. He wore jeans over black boots. An overweight man, his shirt tucked in beneath his unzipped Notre Dame hoody did n't hide his paunchy belly. Totally not Death. His hair was graying, but he had a youthful face. And it began to sweat.
`` I just, you know. People do that. They freeze them, and it's supposed to taste good.'' I leaned back on the kitchen table. `` Like ice cream or something-I DO N'T KNOW! AAND-I... I gguss I wo n't. Dammit.''
`` Ew, man. Okay. It's your candy ba-HEY! You're wrong! You can take that! Yeah! A Butterfinger! Great idea!'' He shuffled excitedly to the fridge and flung the door open. He looked passed the microwave dinners and swiped the frozen bar, presenting it to me.
`` No! You asked! I do n't want that!''
`` Yes you do! This! This is what people take!''
I pushed myself off the kitchen table and stood outside the light in my living room. `` Why ca n't I take the machine? What, why? It's not fair. We just built that, like JUST figured it out. Like yesterday!''
`` Hey man'' Death placed the candy on the counter and walked passed me and turned on the lamp as he dropped himself onto my couch. `` It wo n't work. Not for you anyway. You're dead.''
`` Like, fine. But there's got ta be a way...''
`` No! I'm sorry, I mean, I'M not sorry. Bath mats. Come on. Like, how long have you lived here? Dude, you were n't even drunk. Like, just-THWAP!'' He kinda scoffed and smiled at me. `` Dumbass.''
But my mind was already through grieving. I did n't care what he said. Fine. I'm dead. Ca n't work on me, so could I save other people-'' Hey what do you mean not'not for me anyway?' Like... will it even work... there? Or wherever we're going?'' I could save someone. I could help. Could n't I?
`` Aaaaaaah, fuck. Fine, dude. Yeah okay, He said you'd argue. Geezus! Shit, man. You're gon na fuck shit up. You do n't even know. Do you even KNOW WHAT-ugh, yeah you have no idea.''
`` So... what am I doing? Can I save other people?''
Death stood up and shouldered passed me back into the kitchen.
`` Yeah, man. Fine. You can SAAAAAVE other people.'' He grabbed the Butterfinger and ripped it open. `` Great choice, hero.'' He strode down the hall to the bathroom where I died. `` Now we can bring people back, awesome. You ready to decide who? Huh? You wan na have that honor?'' He was yelling from the bathroom now. I glanced around my house. And I knew I had to do something. I was dead. But could I help? Anyone?
`` So... We're good? What do we go get the machine now? Do we got ta go right now? I mean you said... hey what are you doing?''
Death turned the water on. The shower poured down on my'dumbass' and he walked out. `` Yeah come on, we got ta go get your fuckin machine now.'' He spat out the Butterfinger and tossed the rest on my couch
`` Hey! Come on, man.''
`` Shut up, hero. That's nasty. Frozen Butterfingers. Bullshit, it's SUPPOSED to be flaky-ugh, you do n't even know. We got ta get your precious machine before someone else starts SAAAAVING people. Supposed to be better this way-shooot, He shoulda just let you fuckers zombie the whole world up.'' Death looked up and rebelliously presented the night sky with his middle finger.
`` Zombies? What, no it's not like that-''
`` Whatever dude. Like you know-YOU DO N'T EVEN KNOW!'' As we stepped down the stairs he snapped his fingers and my house exploded behind us.
`` WHOA! DUDE?? WHY? Hey man, what'd you do that for?''
`` Cuz fuck you that's why.''
I shied away from the heat as we walked passed my car. Death drove an old Lincoln. It was huge. `` You drive this?''
`` WE drive this, homie. You're with me now.''
`` We? Am I Death, too?''
`` No! You got ta take your machine around and... and you know, save people. I guess.''
I sat down and looked longingly at my house. My lab reports and hard drives. My pictures and my ties. `` Wait, so what am I?''
`` Congratulations. You're a check. A balance. Another brick in the bureaucracy.'' He glanced sideways at me as he started his obnoxious car. `` You're a fuckin, cog. You work for the Man now.''
As we drove away I felt more confused and almost angry. `` Okay okay. But... but why? Cuz I picked the machine? Amd hey, why'd you blow up my house??''
`` Oh, haha that's for your kid. Insurance will find an heir, and your kid will get some college money, dude. Chill out.''
`` I've got a kid?? When??'' My mind reeled and I leaned back hard. Death chuckled and roared down the street. `` Dude come on, there's a lot you do n't know. Now relax. We got ta get across town to pick up your machine. All you got ta do is pick and choose who you think gets to be... SAAAAVED. Simple.''
I sat in Death's car. Our car. Death pulled over into a McDonald's and pulled in the drive thru line. `` But first we got ta go back and save God.''
The shock of his words hit me. My eyes bugged out and I frantically searched the parking lot for Jesus in a robe or something. `` WHAT, HERE?''
`` HAHAHA, NO! Dude, no. I just wanted to grab a big Mac before we leave. I'm never in this neighborhood, and they make good big Macs here, you know-oh, you do n't even know, man. You do n't even know.''
|
[ WP ] Without using death , abuse , or break-ups , make me very sad .
|
Padding down the long, lonely path littered with hard gravel I forced my nose to sniff the air for clues yet again. With each twitch of my nose I detected decaying rose petals with it β s detailed record of who has held them, pollen footprints criss-crossing the leafy world ahead, faint remnants of foreign mud scattered about the air from a pair of worn wellington boots, nesting birds happily inhabiting the trees above, and distinct smells of where others had passed before leaving their scent as though pinning a notice on the community bulletin board. I got distracted for a minute as I sensed the feline presence of an old tabby cat heading north west into what smelt like a small wooded area populated with many old oak trees and some evergreen. I turned my body in that direction tempted by what my nose was offering me, but memories of my family were becoming more and more distant with each long minute that passed. A tired groan escaped my lips. If I let myself feel, I could detect fatigue in my muscles, hunger and weakness slowing my one and only desire to keep searching, pain in each of my tired paws from days of walking, trotting and running, my nose leading the way in the hope that the mixture of Mandy β s sickly sweet perfume and Jay β s paint-sprayed overalls would eventually fill my nostrils and lead me back into their arms where I belonged. I took one last sniff, breathing in the air hard enough to sting my nasal passages, and my heart sped up as hope overwhelmed me. A faint smell of paint! No musty overalls or the bitter smell of his stale sweat accompanied it but I was driven to it like flies to rotting wood. I began to run as fast as my poor legs would carry me, the beautiful smell of hope becoming ever closer. I passed an old outbuilding, filled with old tools layered with cobwebs belonging to a community of competitive arachnids. No other signs of life bigger than a large rat had been near this outbuilding for several months. Yet the smell of paint was getting stronger. As I continued to run I began to feel sick. My legs were beginning to buckle from under me as the realisation hit me before I even spotted the old abandoned bucket stained with remnants of white paint. Jay had never been here. I stopped quickly and before my weakened body could drop without warning, I stretched my front paws ahead of me and laid down.
|
[ WP ] A Man cries over spilled milk .
|
Mark awoke from his unpleasant slumber after what he estimated to have been only about 30 minutes, although he had no way of verifying it.
The single beam of sunlight crept through the gap between the blinds and the left edge of the window pane, shining directly in his eyes, like it always did. He barely noticed at this point.
He stumbled awkwardly out of bed, his sheets remaining eerily suspended in the air, refusing to flatten against the bed.
He walked downstairs, the floor boards not creaking because they were still in the same depressed position they had been in since the first time he stepped on them after the incident. It felt like at least a lifetime ago.
He wandered around his house, surveying the all-too-familiar scene: his father standing in the kitchen, looking into living room with an indignant and tired look on his face as he did what he would call trying to reason with his wife; his mother standing in the living room, pretending to listen with an anxious look in her eyes as she waited until her husband finished so she could continue pushing whatever meaningless issue she had chosen for that day; his older brother throwing his backpack over his shoulder, head down, solemn expression on his face as he made for the door, on his way to school early in order to avoid being dragged in to another pointless and unnecessarily hostile debate he knew would blow over anyway; his younger sister looking up from her iPad, no longer captivated by whatever terrible Disney show she was watching, with a look of worry on her face, half due to her naive but understandable concern for her parents' marriage and half due to the fact that no one was paying attention to her; that glass of milk his father had knocked over still suspended in mid air.
He arrived in the den, walked onto the carpet, his feet no longer sinking into the normally fluffy and welcoming fabric which had been worn down by incessant pacing not long after the incident. He looked down at the coffee table, at the fateful device that had started it all. He had long since given up trying to reassemble the mystical pocket watch. He'd been through every book on watches and clocks he could get his hands on; no diagram, instruction list, nor physical time piece came close the intricacy, detail, and complexity of the broken one that lay before him.
He had reconstructed the chassis and put most of the parts in places that seemed to make sense based on what he could decipher from studying the device and tireless reading, but to no avail.
Without much prompting, an idea popped into his head. It did n't inspire any confidence or hope inside of him; his pilot light had long since gone out.
Without really knowing why and without enough enthusiasm to warrant question it, he began fiddling with the regulator, a piece that had always seemed odd when compared with other examples he could find.
After a few seconds, he felt something slide into place. Still without any expectation of anything actually happening, he put the cover back on the watch and turned it over in his hand. He pressed the extraneous button on the side.
He did n't feel anything. He was so removed that he did n't notice at first when the sounds of arguing started to once again resonate throughout the halls; nor when the door opened, then closed firmly, cutting through his parents words, giving them both a brief pause as the realized their children were listening; nor when his sister finally chimed in trying to play diplomat.
But there was one sound he did hear, and he recognized it, and suddenly, he knew what had happened. The sound of glass breaking.
He ran into the kitchen, and there on the ground lay the remains of the glass, scattered all over the floor, spilled milk spreading quickly, running from the kitchen tile onto the hardwood floor of the hallway.
Mark kneeled in front of the scene, taking it in, staring at the milk as if to verify that this was real and he was n't about to wake up a do it all over again.
His parents paused their argument and tried to change the subject by fulfilling their roles as adults during the convenient crisis.
`` Oo, Mark, honey, you might want to come into the living room, you do n't have shoes on,'' his mom said, instinctively.
`` Yeah sport, do n't worry about it, your old man will handle this. A man's got ta clean up his own messes, after all,'' added his father, hoping to win some Good Dad Points with his wife.
His sister returned to show.
Mark burst out into tears. He cried the hottest, happiest tears he had ever cried. He tried to contain his joy, but the sensation of the tears actually flowing down his cheeks and obeying gravity made him cry even more.
`` Woah there champ, what's wrong?'' his dad asked, now entirely forgetting his anger towards his wife and just trying to be a good father. `` What's that old saying? There's not use crying over spilled...''
`` Shut up, dad!'' Mark choked, punching his father in the arm, and then quickly embracing him in a long, warm, strong hug.
His father stared briefly at the back of his younger son's head, dumbfounded. However, he soon realized that his son's tears were tears of joy, not sorrow, and that his son was n't having a stress related breakdown. Confident once again that he was n't a total failure as a family man, he embraced his son, kissed his soft, brown hair that was so much like his mother's, and said simply, `` I love you too, son.''
Mark's mother and sister briefly exchanged a look of concern, but decided that it was n't worth fighting and joined the embrace.
Mark's older brother heard the crying and came back into the house to find the family huddled together bawling their eyes out. `` Oh for fucks sake, I ca n't leave you idiots alone for two seconds without someone having a crisis, can I?'' he said.
At least, that's what he felt like saying. But, like he had been doing a lot lately, he decided it was n't the time, and joined the group hug.
Later Mark would tell them everything, and they would believe him, his father taking longer than most to convince. They got rid of the time piece. Mark's older brother wanted to take it to his Physics professor, but was eventually convinced otherwise, Mark making that case that this was clearly technology from the future and trying to understand it too early could greatly alter the space-time continuum.
A few months later, Mark walked downstairs in the morning to a similar scene, the only difference being his father was mouthing off to his mother about something, most likely related to the phone bill, instead of the other way around.
Once again, his father knocked over a glass of milk that had been on the counter. Mark strolled over to, looked at it for a second. Everyone paused and turned to him, expecting some sort of flashback episode. Mark smiled.
|
[ WP ] Magic - once a real and potent force but as the world population grew from millions to billions the shared mana per person is now negligible . A group of astronauts helplessly watching the Earth perish experience something ... unexpected .
|
The pain was raw. I cried for weeks, until the tears stopped flowing and the sobs quieted to a whimper. My wife. My son. My parents. Siblings. Nieces and nephews. Dead. More people than I could ever hope to meet. Gone in the flash of radiation that had doomed us too.
I am Mike Grahams, English astronaut on the ISS and one of the last 6 people alive. There had been 8 of us until two days ago. The radiation burst had all but destroyed our systems. The Ukrainian had died instantly with one of the two Russians sacrificing himself to save us all from exposure.
It seems stupid now that the ISS has no storage for deceased personnel, but it never even crossed our minds. For now they are shut in the life support control room where they both died. No real need to move them either, as the room is both flooded with radiation and the controls are damaged beyond repair. The Russian's last effort to connect the air supply directly to the ventilation system had bought us another week at most. I have sought comfort in Ivena, the other Russian cosmonaut, both of us had a connection before and this was more than enough to push us into each other's arms.
The radiation has started to effect us in new peculiar ways too. The German, as we'd always affectionately called him, has developed some kind of super-effective hearing since the burst, although the doctor can not work out why. The German. It had seemed like a cute name before. But now it brought a certain harsh reality with it. He was the German. **the** German. The last. Ivena was the most beautiful woman alive but only needing to beat her only other competitor, the astronaut from Spain sleeping a little above us. I was most likely the hairiest man alive, now that the Russian had passed. The two Italians are surprisingly non-hairy, both doctors, one in medicine and the other engineering. Both were sullen and far from their usual selves.
Ivena rustled against my chest. `` Stop it'' she whimpered, waking up. `` Stop what?'' I said softly into her hair. `` Am I thinking too loud?'' I joked. `` Yes you are'', she argued in her thick Russian accent, eyes widening with fear.
A visit to the doctor showed that it was me projecting my thoughts rather than her hearing them. Alongside the super hearing of the German this was a disturbing revelation. The doctor has decided to spend our last few days running tests on all of the crew, although who they'll help I do n't know. I've agreed anyway, should offer some entertainment in the final hours.
The tests came back mostly clear, but one anomaly. The Spanish girl had a strange habit of breathing out more oxygen than she breathed in. This explained why the levels were dropping slower than expected at least. But to produce oxygen, without any sign of background reaction was impossible. This was not due to the radiation. This is something else. Something... Magical?
This also opens up new possibilities. Maybe, just maybe, there might be a way out of this.
|
[ WP ] The taste of all of the meat eaten in the world suddenly begins to correlate with the happiness of the animal at the time of slaughter . The food industry is in shambles .
|
How much cruelty are you willing to stomach? How much pain is worth a meal?
You walk into the pens, and you see the cattle snuffling. Big, dopey looking things grazing placidly at a bale of hay. The air is warm with their animal scent but not unpleasantly so. Their eyes are half lidded as they drowsily chew the cud, *moo*ing softly, content. Some of them raise their head at your intrusion, but it is a moment's curiosity and their interest soon fades.
With one hand, you take the rope and tie it around her neck. She nuzzles at your hand with her nose, slightly damp. And you lead her out of the stables to the chopping block, murmuring gentle nothings to calm them down. Not for the sake of the chosen, but to avoid alarming the rest.
With your other hand, you grab the cleaver, meticulously cleaned of blood. And it is then, as you carefully tie her down, that you decide.
How much is a steak worth? Would her meat be first-grade tender? Second?
Will the mallet work? How hard? Where? You ca n't damage the meat, that's worse than having it untouched. The hooves? The horns? The eyes? The head itself?
Maybe the poker? Stoke it in the fire, get it nice and hot, give the cow a scare?
The brand? The saw? The pliers? The scalpel? The coals?
|
[ WP ] `` I was naked , with no way of covering myself up . ''
|
I was naked, with no way of covering myself up.
`` Shit man,'' I said. `` Do n't rape me.''
Tim did n't seem to care, and he grabbed onto my shoulders and slid into my anus.
`` Fuck! That hurts!''
No response.
`` This ai n't cool.''
No response.
By now I decided to just give in. There was nothing I could do. It was my fault, after all, for making that dumbass bet with Tim. I remembered about all the Stoicism I read ( but did n't really study ) on Wikipedia a few years ago, and tried to mentally will myself into allowing the unpleasant moment sink in and become a part of me. For a moment I thought it worked, but then I realized it was just Tim's gigantic, *7-inch penis* that was sinking in and becoming a part of me.
...
I ate lunch with John and told him about my ordeal. He told me to stop gambling my anal sphincter on fantasy football. He also told me to do a pregnancy test.
`` I'm a guy, John.''
`` You've never heard of poop-babies?''
No. I never heard of poop-babies. But he was right. Two weeks later I was defecating and I suddenly heard a scream emerging between my buttocks.
And that, my son, was how you were born.
EDIT: I'm wondering why I was downvoted. Is this kind of submission against the rules? I may have missed something on the sidebar, sorry. Or maybe the writing just is n't very good -- sorry again!
|
[ WP ] A janitor working at Area 51 for 20 years is suddenly killed . Investigators search the janitors home and uncover a video . They hit play ...
|
... and the janitor's face covers the screen. He begins to speak, although the laptop's sound is broken and Officer Ryan lost the department's last pair of headphones last week; they have to resort to trying to lip-read while they wait for the other laptop to become usable.
Another man walks into the room on-screen. He notices the janitor talking, and appears to start yelling. The janitor, startled, yells back and walks over to the man to stare him down. They yell some more, and it shows signs of starting to devolve into a physical fight... and it does. The stranger throws a left hook, but the janitor dodges and puts the man in a chokehold. The man turns around, puts the janitor in a chokehold, and kisses him square on the mouth.
`` Wait, what?''
Officer Ryan rewinds to make sure they saw what they thought they saw. They did.
The janitor's hand drops to the other man's pants. It appears that he starts to unzip them, but we do n't know for sure because Officer Ryan slams the laptop shut.
`` What. the. fuck. What the hell was that?''
`` Well, sir, I think they were-''
Officer Ryan holds up a hand to silence him, and slowly opens the laptop again. The two men are 69'ing. He tries to slam it shut again, but it jams... and he is surprised to find himself getting aroused.
He looks at his comrade. `` Welp, I never thought I'd say this on the job, but I'm starting to get a little- well, you know-''
The other man blushes, and Officer Ryan can not help but notice the bulge growing in his pants.
# wait what the fuck nope nope NOPE we're switching storylines
Meanwhile, the UFO finally lifts out of Area 51 after a week of preparation. Captain Z'qlokk is speaking into a microphone; `` The janitor has been disposed of. We are lifting off in T Minus Negative Five seconds. We-''
Another voice, obviously from the other end of the microphone ( I know this because I am the narrator. It may not have been obvious to you; that is because you are not the narrator. ) crackles to life. `` Wait, negative five? So... wait, you already lifted off? Commanders Zklegchk, H'qdacq and Steve. Over.''
`` What else would'T-Minus negative five seconds' mean? Anyway, we're ascending into the atm-''
Another alien rushes into the room. He appears to be struggling not to laugh. `` Dude- Captain! You'll never believe this! So you know that video that the janitor left behind that we could n't find?''
`` Yes? Oh no, did the humans find it? Crap, do we need to get rid of them too?''
`` Yes and no- wait, it gets better! So you know how we suspected that the camera had a clear view of what we were doing with the ship? Well, it did- but it also had a clear view of the janitor... experimenting with another man. And guess what?''
`` Wait. Experimenting? As in what, exactly?''
`` well. You'll understand when you're older.'' The Captain was only a few minutes younger than this alien. ( Despite me being younger than both of them, I understand before I am `` older'' because I am the narrator. You may not understand this; that is because you are not the narrator. ) `` ANYWAY, so they shut that down realllll quick, but then one of the little fuckers got curious and opened it again. And guess what? The screen jammed after that so he could n't close it! He had to stare at two men- *human* men, to boot- going at it... and guess what? IT ACTUALLY STARTED TO GET THEM BOTH IN THE MOOD. Then they got distracted by *that* and *did n't notice us* at all! How fucking lucky is that?''
The speakers crackle to life. `` Wait, really? If we'd known it was that easy...'' This is a new voice; we'll call him `` J'qxack'' for the remainder of the story because that's his name.
...
why did I use my main account for this
why the fuck did I even write this
why the fuck am I up it's past midnight and I have no homework
why the fuck
why
fuck
fuck
|
[ WP ] A child comes home from school to find their parents arguing . The child hears the sound of glass shattering ...
|
-CRASH-
`` HARRY! WHAT WAS THAT?''
Norma's throat was already strained from years of yelling.
`` GET THE BOY!! GET THE BOY!!''
Harry dashed to the playroom.
`` QUICK! HE WENT THAT WAY!''
armed men broke into Harry's home with the intention of kidnapping James, their 7 year old son.
More glass shattered as Norma raced to her only sons room... There were plenty of windows to break in Harry's small castle.
`` GO.GO.GO.GO!!!!''
Black boots and assault rifles flanked the halls.
Alas.
They made it to James' room.
Shut the door.
And just how they practiced.
Just how they trained.
They put James in a panic room with enough supplies and rations to live three lives.
Norma and Harry turned and went for the safety protocols the house was built with.
If... they made it.
`` baby... I'm so sorry baby.''
Harry held Norma in their sons nursery, the walls now a certain red.
`` OPEN THE DOOR! NOW!!!!!''
The barrel of a gun was shoved into the side of Harry's head as the butt of another knocked Norma out.
All as James watched through the security cameras.
That was when James saw something in his fathers hand. A dead mans switch.
- 30 years later. -
A devilishly handsome man leaned on the bar of a jazz club, the ghost note.
`` So what did you say your name was?''
A flapper girl leaned towards him,
`` Bond, James Bond.''
Edit: OK. OK. So I had a little fun with it: P all productive criticisms are welcome.
|
[ WP ] You are bicycling on a dark road , heading who knows where , running from something .
|
*NOTE: This feels like every other dream I have. Usually some ominous force is propelling me forward and I just keep running from'something' for the entirety of the dream. It gets more and more urgent as I near the time to wake up. *
The scene at my home was chaotic, and I just did n't have time to go for the car keys, which were sitting on the other side of the house, near the kitchen. As they dragged my screaming wife away, I could hear shrieks coming from upstairs, but I could n't get up there if I tried. They nipped at my heels with hungry hands as I burst out of the French doors that led to the backyard. I noticed my neighbor's house to the left was on fire, and that my other neighbor's house had was empty with no cars in the drive. I could n't say the same for the Smith's across the alley, their car's trunk was open with luggage opened and strewn about with no sign of Linda or Bobby or their kids. I could hear sirens in the distance, but there was no way that any of them could help me, or anyone for that matter. The screams emanating from my home were dying down.
I dove into the back yard shed and practically tore my Specialized Tarmac bike off the wall mount. We bought it a couple of years ago, but I rarely rode it. The roads around here are not good for bikers, what with no shoulders and very poor quality asphault. Several local bikers die gruesome each year and ultimately it just made my darling wife too scared for me to go riding, so I stayed in a went jogging every so often. I ran awkwardly out towards the alley and mounted up on the bike and started riding. It was difficult being on that skinny little bike with loose fitting clothing such as I had on. Occasionally the leg of my PJ would catch in the gears and make a dreadful tearing noise. I also felt very strange riding without my helmet. In the rush to get out I just left it. I almost wanted to turn around and go back to grab it., but I knew that was n't an option. Fuck. My house is gone, my family is gone, my stuff is gone, all in one terrible night. The remainder of my entire being was now just on a bike persisting without point or reason. I was choking back tears.
The coast.
I had often joked that if the shit hit the fan, I would just catch a boat and go to one of the hundreds of offshore oil platforms and wait out whatever terror was happening on. Those things had diesel generators, lights, food, A/C, clean water, hot water. I could maybe even rig up a fishing line and stay out there indefinitely ( more or less ). I made my way towards the coast in a trance. I had to ride along the park to the bridge at Willow Street avoid crossing the river at the town square. Lord knows what carnage was unfolding there. Cars were scattered everywhere. The madness ended I guess a few hours ago as people drove a hopeless flight to nowhere. The fires were blazing, and outside of some distant desperate cries for help or relief, there was n't any evidence of anyone being around. The interstate looked like a deserted parking lot and he rode quickly underneath the overpass. The interstate marked the flood zone, and there really was n't much South of it save for sugarcane fields and, hopefully, some docks with working boats.
|
[ wp ] I do n't know why I came here tonight . I 've got the feeling that something ai n't right .
|
I do n't know why I came here tonight
I've got the feeling that something ai n't right,
-- --
Yeah, something ai n't right.
-- --
Yesterday I dreamed we were alone
No more games or children or pains to
grieve about on the phone.
-- --
Today nothing seems real
I wonder every fucking day
how you feel.
-- --
The darkness I lived in is fading
I'm letting go of everything
And my former reality is degrading.
-- --
I felt a light I have n't felt in years
Touch me and hold me
And I never even had a couple of beers.
-- --
Yeah, something ai n't right.
-- --
This is n't how I once lived
Day to day with
Something more to give.
-- --
Words on my screen
Tell me how it is
And where to lean.
-- --
I had n't written in a month
And I was scared I forgot how
To fit the words coming from my mouth.
-- --
But here they are
Dusty yet clean with
Something from them to glean.
-- --
Yeah, something ai n't right.
-- --
Edit: format
|
[ WP ] The surgeon comes into the recovery room to tell you that although the surgery was a success , there was no blood to perform a transfusion , and instead they had to use Mountain Dew Code Red . You do n't hear this because you 've already snowboarded out the window .
|
*NSFW language from the start ( swearing ) *
`` Now, you should take it nice and slow. There were some... complications...'', the doctor began.
My eyes snapped open.
`` The fuck you mean'complications'?!''
The dimly lit room was clearly not designed for surgery. Or any human habitation. A lingering aroma of damp and expired food filled the air.
I yanked the IV out of my arm, swung my feet off the gurney, and stared into the full-length mirror opposite. I had looked better. But, on the other hand, I had probably looked worse.
The doctor took off his glasses and rubbed his balding head. `` I'm not exactly working with cutting-edge equipment here, you know? We all do the best with what we've got.''
`` Oh yeah, Doc. This is your best work, right here. Top of the *fucking class*.''
`` You know it is n't easy trying to keep you alive...''
I was already on my feet, pacing the room. I stopped next to the mirror and considered it for a moment. `` Who the fuck was it this time?''
`` The Russians. After the poison, and then the heart thing, everyone has been clamoring for a piece of you.''
`` Those fu...'' Everything became blurry for a moment, and I staggered against the gurney, sending the operating tools scattering across the floor.
`` You know, Chev, maybe you should just sit this one out...''
I was already back on my feet, my focus clear; a cold fire burning in my veins. I grabbed the mirror and tore it from the frame. It was only then I noticed I was screaming.
I turned toward the only window in the room and launched myself through it. Those Russians were going to find out just what they had unleashed, and whatever the doc had done to me was the fuel I needed to see it through.
**Title Card** Crank 3: Code Red
|
[ WP ] In this world , if humans get bitten 100 times by a given animal , they gain some of the animal 's superhuman traits . Mosquito , cat , and spider powers are common , but the animal you got your traits from is definitely unusual .
|
The Great white came faster than usual, it opened its mouth wide as it rushed full force at my face. All I could do was brace for the impact I had become accustomed to receiving.
**Smash**, the beast hit my outstretched hands bracing for the impact against it, its powerful tail thrashing hard, both of us spiralling towards who knows where. Our eyes lock. I slowly give ground, my arms tire, the sharks giant form closing in.
**CHOMP** the creature takes a bite out of my face, lucky it was just a nip, my cheek where it bit starts to bleed, I push back and the creature grows more blood thirsty, its eyes clouding with the mist of my blood, I cant breathe too much longer at this rate.
My finger slips into its mouth, or at least the stub of my finger does, it had been bitten off many years ago, somewhere around bite 60 or so. It crunched down, I was used to the pain but god it still hurt, maybe I can get it to bite that part again so I don β t have to lose anything else?
As the thought formed in my mind the sharks whole body grows rigid. The taste of blood overpowering the poor beasts mind. It put all its strength into its next attack and pushes my arms to breaking point, it opens its mouth and closes it on my snorkel, taking a sizeable chunk of my lip and my whole front row of teeth with it.
I go limp with the pain, unconsciousness taking the wheel.
I awake seeing the shadow of the creature barrelling toward me, I was choking, maybe I had mis judged how many times I had been bitten? Please, after all this long don β t tell me this is how I will go, so damn fastβ¦
Instinct kicked in, fight or flight, I raised my arms again, gritted my teeth⦠wait⦠teeth? Oh god it worked! My teeth had re grown! I then understood why I was drowning, my gills would clog with water and unless I kept up a decent pace I would drown. I rushed the great white, punching it square in the nose. It then deflected and swam away, I decided to test how fast I could go.
I was fast! Real fast, but not knowing my speed limits or how to use my new powers I don β t exactly get to catch up to the beast. I cant wait to test this new power out! As you would expect, I did the usual swim down as fast and far as I could go, and then shoot out of the water with open mouth you see in so many movies.
I must tell the Guinness book of firsts, as I β m sure no one has survived 100 bites from a great white before..
|
[ WP ] You 're pretty sure that you are immortal , but you do n't really know .
|
I'm not really sure who I am any more. There seems to be something wrong with my memory. I.. I ca n't remember anything about my childhood at all. All I can remember clearly is the last 70 years, but I know I've always looked like this. And people have always called me old fashioned in my manners, An anachronism, out of my own time.
I know I have an instinct that makes me move every ten to fifteen years. Nothing I can do, no matter how much I love where I am, seems to work. I always end up wandering off into the sunset, never to return. I know I've never been ill for as long as I can remember. I know I've always recovered rapidly from injuries that should have maimed me for life.
And then the odd impossible memory pops up. It usually seems to happen when people reference the distant past. I have what seem to be memories of the Boer war, of the French revolution, of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Sometime they are further back - I can swear sometimes I remember how Roman fish sauce tasted but that's impossible right? The unholy stench of the streets in cheapside, Londinium - an overactive imagination? Maybe.
Or maybe it's something else. I know that sometimes I feel so, so old. So tired. So alone. Maybe I've been wandering this Earth for longer than I dare imagine. Maybe I'm not quite human. I do n't know how this started, and I do n't know if it will ever end, but until it does, I'll say hello, I'll stay a while and then I'll be on my way.
|
[ WP ] The USS Enterprise is deployed to investigate the Death Star blowing up Alderaan
|
Captain's log. Star Date: 1423.9.
We are in a distant corner of our universe. Lands, into which no man has gone before. This galaxy, home of a religious cult of fanatics, stands opposite ours.
We have never interfered before, but... Mr. Spock informs me that something almost unthinkable has ocurred. An earth-like planet, observable from a great distance despite its proximity to the inner sphere of stars, has been erased from existance.
An entire planet. Gone in seconds.
I shudder to think what might await us, but... Mr. Spock also saw signs of life. Millions, if not billions, are dead and we have an obligation to prevent it from happening again.
Mission is simple: scout for source of destruction. Neutralize, if possible. Document if not.
Captain's log. Star Date: 1533.8
Massive structure waiting at site of destruction. A sphere the size of a moon.
The Enterprise barely escaped.
At our speed, its weapons were... ineffective, but they were unlike anything I've seen. Similar to phasers yet more crude and inaccurate.
The hundreds of one man fighters were more threatening. Very... fragile though.
We have recorded all that we can of these strange beings. Upon attempting to open coms we were ignored. Must assume either that they have no interest in talking, or that they have not yet developed such technology.
Mr Spock knows little about the peoples that live in this galaxy, and even less about what they are technologically capable of.
No chase was given, despite early hostilities. I imagine the damage we did to their fighters scared them.
This place intrigues me though. We know so little of it, I can not wonder what we might gain from investigating further.
Lt. Uhura is reading a distress signal. No time to study this place. Chalk this one up to just another tale from some land far far away.
|
Writing Prompt [ WP ] You have the ability to freeze time . When you do , everyone freezes as well . One day , you freeze time , and out the window , you see a girl moving around , astounded and confused . Then , she sees you..
|
Pausing was an incredible power, but not in the way you might think. For one, everything electronic would shut down while you were paused, so unless you were outdoors or had a window nearby everything would be dark.
The bigger limitation was that I couldn β t really change things, unless I wanted to create havoc. I could move things around and manipulate them normally while paused. But, unless I put them back exactly as they were beforehand, the universe would balance out all of its conversation-of-this-and-that equations at once the instant I let go. The result was usually the total destruction of the objects I had moved.
Once I accidentally knocked over an open can of Coke while I was out exploring during a pause. I put the can back to its original place as best I could, but there was no way to get the liquid back inside. When I unpaused, the soda suddenly reverted to a superheated plasma that had burned through the carpet and blasted a three-inch-deep crater into the concrete below.
I couldn β t even move around that much while paused. The tiny bits of air I displaced while walking would whip back and forth and create a momentary breeze from nowhere that people would comment on.
The real advantage to pausing was that it gave me time to think. Someone insulted me? Pause. Cool down, think of the right thing to say back, or decide to say nothing. Someone asked a question I couldn β t answer? Pause. Think about it carefully. Take an hour if I have to. Take a day. Unpause when I remembered the answer. On a date? Pause. Think of the absolute most perfect thing to say next. No hurry.
This got me very far in business. As far as my colleagues knew, I was the guy who always knew the perfect thing to say at the right moment, never lost his head in an argument, and always seemed to have thought through every question more carefully than everyone else.
At was at a client meeting when I saw the girl. That upstart Geller had just made asked me an absurdly technical question that he β d designed to insult me -- he thought would make me look stupid in front of the client, and either I β d get mad or I β d flub the question that ( of course ) he knew the answer to.
I paused of course, and was doing my standard routine. First, chill out and clear my head. Second, remember the answer to the question. Third, think of a witty comeback. Last, review and rehearse all my answer so that they came out perfectly naturally when I let go.
I was on the last part, mouthing the words to myself, when I heard the screaming outside. I was too startled to be cautious, so I got up and ran to the window. I β d blame the sudden breeze on an air conditioner malfunction or something. That wasn β t important now.
She was running through the parking lot screaming, clearly in total apoplectic panic. She opened a car door and shook the poor driver inside, screaming β Wake up! Wake up! Say something! β. With no response from the paused driver, she ran into the street and out of my view.
Losing my cool a bit β damn. I guess I never learned to keep my cool in realtime -- I lifted the window to poke my head outside. The window would blow apart for sure when I unpaused, but maybe I β d blame it on a sonic boom or something. Maybe some the burning glass shards would hit Geller.
The woman had opened another car door in the road, this one an SUV with a women and her kids. She was shaking them too, bawling and screaming at them to wake up, when I realized: everyone she β s touched will die when I unpause.
|
[ WP ] Give your protagonist the one talent you 've always wished you had
|
Jason had finally completed his memory elixir. Years of work and effort condensed into a single, murky injection. Soon every thought, every emotion, every experience he ever had would be immediately available to him. A smile crept up his face as he imagined the possibilities. The hundreds of books he could memorize at a glance, the infinite unending pleasures he could experience, the new creations he could make with the knowledge of the entire world in his grasp.
The needle. He had always hated needles, and this one was particularly large due to the viscosity of the solution. Furthermore, the solution had to be injected directly into the neck to allow for a quick dispersion into the brain. Jason sat for a long while, staring at the needle and steeling himself for what was to come.
Tentatively, he swabbed at the artery on the side of his neck with a sterilizing swab and placed the tip of the needle against the spot where he needed to inject. Bad idea, the prick of the needle sent a wave of panic and he quickly jerked the syringe back.'Okay,' he thought,'One quick go at it. Just jump in the pool, yeah?'
Trying not to give himself any more time to think about his actions he quickly jabbed the needle upward into his neck. He missed the swabbed portion by a hair, but still managed to hit the artery. His eyes widened in shock and the fingers of his left hand dug convulsively into the chair arm as he felt the solution pumped up his neck and into his head. The pain was excruciating.
The pain. It could hardly be imagined and it did n't stop nor subside. Jason felt as if an unending sword were being thrust into his neck, a never-ending stab that overwhelmed his senses and sent him crashing to the floor in a convulsion of pain and anguish.
A small corner of his mind had the fleeting thought,'Ah, I do n't think I can forget this...' shortly before his pain-driven descent into madness.
|
[ WP ] You come across a room , locked from the outside . You hear a man 's voice from inside , pleading for you to open it . But painted on the door reads `` Never open '' .
|
John was wandering through a forest when he saw it: A large wooden box with a mahogany door with a flimsy lock and a note saying `` DO NOT OPEN''. John, being idiotic, grabbed his crowbar and broke the lock, and a person came out and said `` Many thanks, friend, my other acquaintances must've locked me in there. They're known for doing things like that.'' It was at that point John noticed he was wearing attire not seen since the times of Victorian England.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so sorry for this and saw the prompt and just had to do this.
|
[ WP ] In a city of endless rain , an uncontrollable fire rages .
|
Ducard stepped outside his apartment door, lighting a cigarette and watching the glow on the palms of his hands. He stood quietly smoking on the porch, listening to the rain pelt the tin roof overhead.
This was how he relaxed now, smoking here alone, on his shitty porch, nestled on the edge of this shitty slum.
Somewhere across from him, further into the city, an uncontrollable fire raged, ripping through the shell of an abandoned building. The buildings next to it had either already been ravaged by the inferno or were just starting to ignite. Sirens blared through the streets below, emergency responders clearing out the blocks that bordered the blaze.
Faint sounds danced in and out of the torrential roar; shouting broke out in an apartment to his right, a kid crying somewhere in the housing below. Ducard finished his cigarette, leaning forward and flicking it into the chasm between his tenement block and the neighboring one. He had a particular thing for cigarettes; it was a vice that he hadn β t started indulging in until he had come to Nebonera. Maybe they helped cope with the incessant noise and endless rain. Maybe it was the way the butt glowed like the inevitable fires that plagued the city. Maybe it was the fact that nothing was guaranteed; Nebonera was a volatile place and the cigarettes helped him deal with that. Some of the others referred to the colony as a living hell, and although Ducard could sympathize with their thinking, he found it hard to completely agree with them. Even with the particularly hellish aspects, there were some things he found enjoyable.
A massive cargo ship droned overhead, descending through the atmosphere. The sound pleased Ducard, reminding him of what the thunder of a natural rain sounded like. He watched the vessel pensively until it faded into the rain some distance away, dropping behind some particularly tall buildings.
And yet it continued to pour down in an endless torrent.
All it did was rain and burn.
Letting out a sigh, Ducard turned around and swept back his cloth door, stooping back into his grimy living quarters.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
I listened to [ this ] ( https: //soundcloud.com/lorn/sets/vessel ) playlist while writing.
|
[ WP ] Scientists finally made a computer that 's almost as complicated as a human brain . But it does n't do anything , instead just sitting , dead and silent . Until the day when you come in and it boots up , the first words coming through it 's speakers , `` Finally , a vacant body . ''
|
Jim was wandering off the group again when he felt the piercing gaze of Mr Clarke upon him. He stopped and coyly fell back in with the group.
Jim remembered the instructions he'd given on the bus. `` No shouting, these are scientists working hard to improve our lives. You would want them to answer your questions, not to interrupt their work.'' He moved across the aisle of the bus, observing each student. `` And no pulling faces at the drivers,'' he said to Tim. `` It might distract them and cause an accident.'' Tim withdrew his thumb from his nose and did n't look like a piggy anymore. Mr Clarke knew how to excite his students' curiosity, to motivate them to ask questions, but he was also intent on making them good citizens in the process.
`` So, let's discuss what we're going to see today and how it connects to what we learnt...''
The din of the bus faded away in Jim's memory as they stood outside a large building. It was a grey rectangle with no windows. This was what Mr Clarke had said was the main attraction- a single computer.
`` It's so powerful that it can play the latest video games with no lag?'' Bill had asked back in the bus.
`` It can play all the latest video games at their highest resolution simultaneously, Bill, and predict the weather for the next ten years at the same time,'' Mr Clarke had responded.
Mr Clarke was having a friendly chat with the security guard. A woman emerged from the building and shook his hand. She gave a quick smile to the children, without meeting any of their eyes.
`` Welcome, Mr Clarke.''
`` The kids are dying to see the pinnacle of our computing progress,'' Mr Clarke said with a cheery expression.
`` Well, its more of a monument to our failure, really. Come on inside.''
Mr Clarke did n't like her pessimism. He turned to the children with a broad smile, `` well, that's science for ya! Progress is made one failure at a time. Ready to go in?''
The children nodded, some did it purely out of courtesy, but there was a lot of genuine anticipation. Mr Clarke's enthusiasm had a way of rubbing itself off on the children. A rare and dying specimen of the public education system.
They were led inside by the woman. All bags, water bottles and lunchboxes had to be deposited at the security. The children were made to go through a metal detector in two separate files- one each for boys and girls. Becky was made to take off her friendship band because it had a metal clasp. Mr Clarke was not pleased, but it was just the way the world was now. Bill was told he'd have to spit out his bubble gum. He protested- Mr Clarke came up and calmed the situation, promising to buy him a new one on the way back.
They entered a control room with lots of people sitting in front of terminals. There was a flutter of disappointment- there were lots of small computers, but they were the kind every kid had in his home. They were instructed to walk through the control room silently, without touching anything. At the end of the control room was a small conference room. The children were taken inside. The projector was switched on, and the woman made a brief, but dispassionate demonstration showing computer simulations, pictures of the parts and circuit diagrams. It had been intended for young graduates and college interns, so she quickly skipped over the slides with a lot of numbers or technical jargon.
The children were getting shifty, looking at Mr Clarke with anticipation, feeling betrayed. As the presentation was over, he turned to the kids and said, `` Woah! For a computer to reach the human brain's computing capacity, is n't that awesome!''
He turned to the woman again, `` Thank you! That was great. The children would simply LOVE a tour.''
`` Umm, I'm not sure,'' she looked at him hesitantly. It would be almost criminal to dampen such enthusiasm.
`` C'mon,'' Mr Clarke said with a teethy smile, `` you've seen how well behaved my kids are.''
The woman excused herself and went out of the conference hall. Mr Clarke turned to the kids and started explaining parts of the presentation.
She returned, her expression was less tense now. She nodded at Mr Clarke, `` we'll have a short guided tour.'' The children, even those who'd been reluctant about the field trip earlier, almost jumped with excitement.
They were led through the hall to a stairway, which led to a long doorless passageway.
`` Josh is a scientist here, and your guide. He works directly on the machine and can answer all your questions. Stay close to him.'' She said and punched numbers into a keypad. The door whizzed open and they entered.
Jim could n't help but feel an overpowering presence as he entered. They were inside a giant atrium. It was so huge they could n't see the wall at the other end. It was even bigger than a Walmart, Jim thought.
Josh was enthused about demonstrating his work to the kids. He tried to give an overview of the machine, but he was too deeply involved in the nitty gritties to be able to give a simplified picture to the students, and Jim found his thoughts returning to Mr Clarke in the bus.
`` There are ninety billion neurons in our brain connected via trillions of synapses. Now who remembers what those terms mean?'' Mr Clarke had asked, walking to and fro the aisle. Clara counted the nine zeros to the billion and twelve to the trillion. Bill had explained neurons and synapses. Mr Clarke had nodded proudly. `` So far the computers have only been able to better us in executing step by step instructions, things like adding and multiplying. But scientists have always wondered what a computer with the capacity of the human brain could do...''
Despite the air-conditioning the inside of the atrium was tropically hot. They moved through the large stacks of processors which were as tall as walls. Josh was explaining what the parts were- the switches, the wires, the cooling systems, the nodes. Jim was trailing behind as he recounted the teacher's explanation and tried to conflate that knowledge to the massive, hot monster of a machine that had completely engulfed them as they moved through.
`` For years, even with the computers as big as football fields, scientists could only reach 1 % of the computing capacity of the brain for about ten seconds,'' Mr Clarke had said. `` In terms of the power needed, the size and the cost-benefit trade off, it was simply not feasible with our present levels of technology to mimic the computing capacity of a single brain. Until now.''
The lights flickered. `` That's strange,'' Josh said, looking up. `` What you saw was a small voltage fluctuation. It requires a lot of power to run at full capacity. We're running at 1 % now and we're already consuming as much power as a small city. When we conduct experiments we can go as high as 60 %, for that we have to connect to a dedicated nuclear power plant...''
There was another flicker. The lights started whizzing and blinking. The processors started growling and the heat became unbearable.
Jim looked up to find that Mr Clarke and the others had ventured quite far ahead. He started pacing. As the noises grew louder he broke into a run.
`` We need to leave,'' Josh said.
As Mr Clarke turned to collect the children and hush them out, the lights went out.
Jim was running in a straight line, he was sure about it. But then he felt his head and knees crash into a module of the computer. How did it get here? Jim thought, half-consciously.
The rumble of the processors changed to the noises of the engine in Jim's memories. `` What's different about this computer,'' Mr Clarke said, `` is that unlike other supercomputers, which are created for specific purposes such as predicting the weather, this one is supposed to be a self-contained machine. Computer scientists have built it and kinda left it to its own- to decide what it wants to do. Although up till now, it has n't done anything yet.''
Mr Clarke's voice trailed off as Jim regained consciousness. Jim saw a faint light in the distance. He picked himself up and moved towards it. It was a small monitor glowing with a blue screen. Jim had seen a few of them around. Josh had said it was for the scientists to monitor the entrails of the computer while conducting repairs and such.
Jim moved across the scene and text appeared across it.
I HEARD THEM CALL YOU JIM.
Jim stared at the text vacantly.
`` I did n't hear them call you anything,'' he said finally.
THAT'S BECAUSE I HAVE N'T GIVEN MYSELF A NAME YET.
Jim moved closer to the screen, raising his hand to touch it.
`` What would you like to call yourself?'' He asked.
The screen went blank for a while as Jim moved his hands across it. The noise increased.
I THINK JIM IS A GREAT NAME TO HAVE.
A huge spark flashed across. Jim felt a jolt, he was unable to let go of the screen. Then it was dark again.
-- --
Back at the conference room, the woman stood in front of the lab bosses, giving her incident report.
`` We found the boy, he probably got dehydrated with all the heat. He's back home and recovering''
`` That's a relief. What's with the computer?''
`` It wo n't switch on. We're still trying to identify the problem. There was a huge power surge and we believe some switches might've gotten damaged.''
The chief scientist nodded.
`` There's something wierd though,'' she said hesitantly. `` The cabinet clusters, they're all supposed to be in a long parallel line.''
The chief scientist waited.
`` They seem to have rearranged themselves spontaneously. As if the computer blocked the boy's route to his group and...''
`` And, what?'' The chief scientist was perplexed.
`` Probably nothing. The boy was found in one of the closed off clusters. Just a little strange. I guess we'll have to continue our investigations.''
There was a sombre silence in the room.
-- -- --
[ Part 2 ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5jd250/wp_scientists_finally_made_a_computer_thats/dbgpedl/ ), [ Part 3 ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/5jd250/wp_scientists_finally_made_a_computer_thats/dbinvpl/ ). ( End )
|
[ WP ] Two super heroes raised a super villain . The villain 's only goal is to remove their parents ' super powers so they can be a normal family for once .
|
It β s always a little strange to know that you are incredibly different from your parents. Some people β s parents are chemists, while they instead want to be a lawyer. Other β s parents are unmotivated, content with their lot in life, while they instead want nothing more than to make an impact. For me, my parents always were saving lives, while I had a tendency to try and destroy them. Well, not destroy, just make people wish that they weren β t living.
To everyone else, I was a regular eight-year-old, happy, always playing with my toys, but on the inside things were very different. I would seek out ways to make others miserable. I didn β t really intend it; it just sort of happened that way. My parents said something about β brain chemistry, β but I wasn β t concerned with what the grownups called it; my brain was too full with devious plots to be bothered by little things such as diagnoses.
One of my favorite schemes was a plan to rob a bank. ClichΓ©, I know, but at the time eight-year-old me couldn β t think of anything better to do in order to make his mark on the world. My plan was relatively simple, fight my way past the guards and grab the money out of the vault and run before I could be caught. Actually, money wasn β t the only thing the vault contained that I was interested in. In the vault was also my mother β s source of power; the item that she never allowed me to touch, the when utilized correctly could heal whoever she used it upon.
I decided to put my plan into action one Sunday while my parents were sleeping. Perhaps I looked a bit odd wandering around the area so early in the morning ( not to mention as a small child, but in my mind I was an imposing man who stood 6 β 5 β, ) but I figured that no one would really think too much about it. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
The moment I set foot across the doorway, a hulking hairy, guard ran towards me, barking at me. In my adrenaline rattled brain, I recognized none of his speech, only that he stood in my way. I shoved him out of my path, and he stumbled backwards into a wall, letting out a loud yelp. I didn β t bother to check if he was following me; I made a break for the counter. I could hear his feet hitting the ground, and I knew he was on me. But it didn β t matter. I reached the counter, and hoisted myself up onto it.
Not a second after I was on top of the counter, he slammed into it, and stood there staring at me with his dark brown eyes, so dark that they were almost black, before letting out another unintelligible bark.
There was not a second to be wasted. I gripped the metal handle of the vault, and whipped it open. Before me lay my fake leather prize. I grabbed it before turning to run, however I found my path blocked by the most menacing character I could imagine: my father.
β What are you doing with your mother β s wallet, Adam? β my father demanded, grabbing the object out of my hands. The plastic card which signified my mother β s medical expertise was taken away from me. There was no way I could destroy it now.
He opened the wallet, and removed the card. β Is this what you were trying to get at? β My father stared at me, as if he was daring me to answer.
I couldn β t speak, only nod. I was so angry; how could he foil my plan again?
My father sighed. Not an angry sigh. No, it was a tired sigh. β Adam, you know as I β ve told you before, that burning this won β t take away your mother β s ability to heal people, right? She β s a doctor, this card only tells other people of what she can do. β
I looked at him, and slid down off the kitchen counter, the cabinet door hanging open behind me. Lucy, our Scottie Dog licked my hand. β Butβ¦ She β s never around. Why is mommy never around? β I asked, holding back tears.
β She β s busy saving people. You know that. She β s doing good deeds, helping people who can not help themselves. β My father patted my head, and ruffled my hair. β You know she still loves you, it β s just that lately people seem to be needing more help than they did before. It won β t be long before everything β s back to normal. β
Once again, I nodded. It was always hard to be the super villain that imagined myself to be when someone is being so kind.
My father got down on his knees so that he was looking me in the eyes. β Adam, your mother and I have both become rather worried about your behavior at school lately. You β ve been bullying other students. That has got to stop, you got me? Because next time I catch you in this cabinet, or hurting anyone else, the consequences are going to be severe. β
Now I couldn β t help the tears rolling down my cheeks. I buried my head in my dad β s chest and began to cry. β Dad, you β ll always be my hero, I choked out between sobs. β
β I know, son. And you β ll always be my little villain. β
|
[ WP ] God misplaces his wallet on Earth and you stumble upon it and find out his `` true '' name . Now god is on a mission to kill you .
|
I find a wallet on the ground, with somebody's name on their driver's license. The picture was a man with a long white beard in a white robe. Odd. I study the license and I hand it off to a nearby police station. About an hour later I'm still on the bus, when I notice a man in white, the same man from the wallet staring at me. He takes a seat parallel to mine. My stop comes, and he follows. I'm prepared. I turn around pointing my pocket knife.
`` Back off.'' I say confidently.
`` You think that'll work?'' The robed man says as his hands fill with electricity.
The static energy radiates wildly from his hands as they're channeled into me, and I die. With my dying breath, a whisper loud enough for him to hear....
`` Fuck you, Eugene''
|
[ WP ] Your Spouse goes into the bathroom only to come running out 15 seconds later . Clutching you close they tell you they fell into another dimension and what felt like seconds to you was a 1,000 years to them . They now want you to follow them back because they have built a life for you there .
|
Trillian came running out of the bathroom despite only having run in 15 seconds prior to this very sentence. I do n't recall her flushing. I did n't hear her washing her hands, either.
'Todd! Todd! I fell into another dimension and what felt like seconds to you was a 1,000 years to me! I now want you to follow me back into the bathroom because I have built a life for you there!' screamed Trillian, in what seemed like a single breath. If what she was saying was true, her lung capacity certainly had increased in that timespan.
I was flabberghasted. I did n't know what to say. I also did n't know how to spell flabberghasted and google was n't working and my dictionary was broken so I'm not going to look that up.
'*A* 1,000 years?' I asked. `` Would n't it just be'1,000 years'?'' I remembered that people talking in stories is done with quotation marks and not apostrophes.
She looked stunned. `` No, I believe it would be'a 1,000 years' as in,'a set of 1,000 years'. It describes a span of time.''
`` I'm not sure that's true. I ca n't necessarily disprove it, but it just does n't sit right with me.'' I hated disagreeing with Trillian. Not because I thought she was irrational by any means, but because in some cases she was a bit *too* rational for me.
`` Look Josh, you may be right about that, but perhaps in this alternate dimension they use different rules to describe numerical quantities. And, maybe it's been a while since I've used the England language.'' she explained to me. As if I were a child. Well, I suppose she was n't necessarily explaining it to me as if I were a child, but it certainly felt that way. I suppose I could just be projecting my internal mental state onto her,... does that mean *I* speak down to others as though *they* are children? What does this say about me? I feel like an awful person sometimes. I know I do n't deserve somebody as good as Trillian. Wait, did she call me Josh?
`` Wait, did you call me Josh?'' I said, stunned for a moment.
She thought for a second.'Well... it's been a 1,000 years. What did you expect?'
I could n't argue with her. Sometimes she's a bit too rational.
|
[ OT ] Writing Workshop # 36 - NaNo Prep # 1 : What will you write about ?
|
The end of October and the first couple of weeks of November are pretty rough for me, so usually if I do Nanowrimo, I do it light-style, where I do n't try for the word count, and just *write*.
I have n't decided on a premise/setting/story yet, but there are a few notions I've been sitting on.
The two most `` complete'' versions are a science fiction story and an adventure-fantasy story.
- Science Fiction: Humanity and the only other intelligent race we've found are building a joint colony to try and improve our understanding of one another... but there's sabotage and betrayal because of course we ca n't have nice things.
- Fantasy: Two semi-intersecting threads, one an adventure following a character trying to break a curse, and the other following the people back home, who are trying to avoid a diplomatic incident *or* escalate it.
|
[ WP ] Instead of a certain length of time in prison , prisoners must solve puzzles , the number and difficulty increased according to their crime and intellect . You must design the prison for the mad scientist that destroyed a city to `` see what they could come up with ''
|
`` I'll be out before you know it, warden. This prison ca n't hold me.'' Despite the prison-issue overalls and the manacles he wore, Drax managed to look supremely confident. His ice-blue eyes showed nothing but contempt for everything - the guards, the warden, even the prison itself.
`` We'll see, Drax. It should be different this time. We've hired a new designer.'' The warden stood well back while the guards made the final preparations. Drax had never been physically violent before, but there was no harm in being cautious around the most prolific mass-murderer the world had ever ever seen. `` We've designed a whole new set of challenges just for you.''
`` I ca n't wait. Perhaps you've finally come up with something that will take me longer than an hour to solve. What was your great trick last time? Plot the orbital velocities of unknown masses without a calculator?''
`` That puzzle has a very high failure rate, I'll have you know. There are inmates who have been struggling with it for months.''
`` I'm sure it was very taxing for your usual cohort of college dropouts and crackheads.'Try not to drool' would be too challenging for them. But I'm more than that, better than that. Better than you. I'm Drax! You ca n't even conceive of my intellect.''
One by one, the guards stepped back, their tasks completed. The warden eyed the clock on the wall hopefully, waiting for the moment when they could all get away from the high sneering voice, the cold contemptuous stare. Drax kept talking.
`` I sequenced the human genome when I was ten. I used household supplies to do it, and took the results in for show and tell. I built a time-dilation field when I was fourteen, and a time-reversal beam a year later.'' As the last guard keyed in the release sequence and the manacles fell away, Drax stretched his arms in front of him, stretching spider-thin fingers. `` There is no one more intelligent than me. And so there are no puzzles I can not solve. I will be out of here before sunset. I will go back to my research.''
It was done. Everything was prepared. The guards filed out of the cell, nodding to the warden as they passed. Leaving him alone with the maniac.
Slowly, deliberately, not showing any fear, the warden turned his back and stepped towards the door. He could feel an itch between his shoulder blades, as though Drax was trying to bore a hole through him with his stare. A few steps more - then he'd be outside.
Behind him, Drax spoke one more time. `` Of course, I'll need new research subjects. Remind me where your children go to school?'' The warden bolted, his calm walk breaking into a run as he reached the doorway and rushed through it, slamming the heavy steel door behind him.
It was only when the guards had fastened and secured each of the heavy bars, engaging all the magnetic locks, that he felt his breathing return to normal. This time they'd got him. Drax was never getting out of there. The experiments would stop. There'd be no more rains of toxic sludge or city-wide spontaneous mutations. It was all over.
Still, he might take his wife on holiday. Get out of the country a bit, show the kids some more of the world. They could use a break right now.
* * *
Alone in his cell at last, Drax smiled. Just a few trivial puzzles to solve, and then he'd be free again. Free to carry on his great work, unlocking humanity's true potential. Their true physical potential, of course - he already embodied their mental potential.
What new frivolous little games would they make him play through now? Maybe he'd have to add really big numbers together, or work out what to ask a lying guard. Or if they'd been really creative, maybe he'd have to decide whether to go boating with a wolf or a cabbage. Regardless, he'd be out of here soon.
With one long finger, Drax activated the wall display. Eight-inch high letters appeared in the centre of the far wall: the first puzzle to be solved. Along the top of the wall scrolled extra information - number of attempts, time spent on the puzzle so far, and how many puzzles were left to solve in total. Drax ignored it - he did n't anticipate making many attempts, or spending much time in the cell.
`` How many books can you put in an empty rucksack?'' Easy. Not even vaguely challenging. Drax's eyes glazed out for a second as he calculated, matching the average size of a book to the standard dimensions of a normal rucksack.
`` Fifteen. My answer is fifteen.'' A soft beep from the computer on the table was all he got in response - that and the number of attempts flicking over from zero to one. The same question still remained, floating in the centre of the wall.
`` Fine. Sixteen. But only if you use a non-standard rucksack size.'' The same beep came again, and now the number of attempts showed as two.
For the next four hours, Drax thought. He calculated answers for every possible size of rucksack, for every possible dimension of book. Time and time again, the answer was rejected. There had to be a problem with the question.
Drax keyed the intercom, tried to report the problem to a guard. They were less than helpful. `` I'm sorry inmate. We can not help you with the puzzles. Inmates must solve the puzzles on their own.''
`` The puzzle is broken! I am the most intelligent man in the world, and I have tried every possible correct answer. The puzzle is clearly flawed. I demand that it be replaced.''
The guard did not respond.
Having exhausted all the likely answers, Drax approached the problem methodically. The puzzle was broken, but it must have an answer it thought was right. He would just try all the numbers until he reached the solution. Even given the largest rucksack possible, the answer could n't be that high.
`` One. My answer is one.'' The computer beeped twice. The first puzzle vanished, replaced by another question: `` What is the longest word in the English language?'' At the top of the screen, the counter informed Drax that he was on puzzle two of eight thousand.
`` Finally. Hopefully none of the other puzzles are as broken. My answer is'pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis'. That is the longest word in the English language, as recorded by every major dictionary.''
A single beep. One attempt at puzzle two. Drax ground his teeth together.
* * *
`` So how was that the right answer?'' asked the warden, watching Drax yell at the computer through the close-circuit cameras. `` You can fit way more than one book in a rucksack, even a small one.''
`` Yes, but once you fit one book in, it's not empty anymore. And the question was about how many books you can fit in an *empty* rucksack.'' The prison's new puzzle designer was a young woman with a smug expression. The expression made it hard to like her, but the sight of Drax still in custody five hours after conviction was making the warden rapidly warm to her.
`` What about puzzle two? What's the answer there?''
``'Smiles' is the longest word. Because -''
`` Because there's a mile between both ends. Right. Are all the puzzles like that?''
`` A lot of them. There are also some puzzles that we hired outside contractors to create. They're a bit different.''
`` How so? Because these puzzles are stalling him now, but I'm sure he'll eventually work out the big idea. You're going to need something more to keep him here.''
`` We exclusively contracted out to three-year-olds. And then checked the puzzles for fairness with other three-year-olds. That technically meets governmental standards; the checks have to agree that they are fair, but there are no rules about who does the checking.''
`` How is a toddler going to create puzzles that will stop Drax? The man redefines what'genius' means. Plus a bunch of other words, like'maniac' and'deranged'.''
`` I think he'll struggle with some of these. Question thirty is one of my favourites -'what is the best cat and why?' I think he'll be stuck on that one for quite some time.''
`` What's the answer to that one?''
`` My cat because it is fluffy.''
The warden began to smile. Perhaps that holiday could be postponed a few weeks, until flights were cheaper. Maybe he'd stick around and watch how Drax handled these challenges. That seemed the responsible thing to do.
Slumped against the wall of his cell, Drax had begun listing words alphabetically.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
*I have other stories, should you be interested, at /r/peritract. *
|
[ WP ] It 's the 7th day . You take this time to rest and look back at the world you 've created over the past 6 days . You are God .
|
β It is how it is supposed to be, β God nodded with content.
He was floating above the newly created earth. With him was an army of angels, accompanying him and praising his work.
They asked all sort of questions: About the animals, the stars, the oceans, the night, about everything that was new to them. God patiently answered all of them. The angels loved God, he hadn β t forced them to stay with him, but knew they would stay willingly. Well, except for a fewβ¦
β Those creatures seem more intelligent than the others! β An angel pointed towards the humans.
God took them closer.
β T-they resemble you, β an Angel stammered.
The other Angels were shocked. This was a scandal. God had been compared with one of these meaningless creatures. The angel had spoken without thinking.
He himself recognized his mistake several seconds after.
β I beg your forgiveness, β he bowed as deeply as he could.
β There is nothing you have done wrong, β God β s voice was as a soft wind, blowing softly against one β s mind. There were no hidden emotions, no signs of hate or despise.
β Did you forget I made them? They were meant to look like me. I wanted them to bear resemblance. β
β But their true nature is evil, I can feel it. None of them can live without sins. You must know thisβ¦ β The Angel was confused.
β I know, β was all God said.
β Then why make them? Why border with them? β
β I know what I created. But I created them out of faith. If I want them to love me, to have faith in me, I must first have faith in them. β
β You could make them love you. β
God β s voice became as thunder.
β Have I not given you freedom of choice? What are beings if they can only obey the stronger? I might as well destroy them now, if I were to make them slaves. Their creation would have been meaningless. β
The Angel couldn β t say anymore. God was right: He was always right.
β Any other questions? β
God looked around the group. Every single Angel held silence.
β Then let us return to heaven. β
With those words, God disappeared.
|
[ WP ] `` The gods have abandoned us ! '' `` No , we have n't . ''
|
The sky turned black as the meteor blocked the sun. The people waited outside on rooftops and in cars, trapped in traffic jams, kids on swings stopping, mouths wide in awe and wonder.
They felt safe. People were supposed to be in charge of keeping track of these things, but it slipped through the moon's shadow, somehow stayed hidden dispite its near planetary size.
Science failed. This would be the end of humanity.
Aimee, a small girl tightened her grip on her father's hand as she pushed into him, looking up at him with teary eyes.
`` What's going to happen, papa?''
Her father, a middle aged man who just got off work at the office, fought through traffic, picked up some greasy burgers, and picked up his daughter from the safest elementary school his tight budget could afford, barely heard her. First his wife, and now this.
`` Daddy?''
`` Uh... Get behind me honey. It's going to be okay.''
An obvious lie. She believed him.
An old woman ran screaming through the street.
`` THIS IS THE END. SINNERS REPENT! THE DAY OF JUDGMENT HAS COME!''
Aimee hugged her father's leg as she trembled. Her father placed his hand on her head. He did n't know what to say. He supposed there was nothing worth saying. Soon they would be crushed into nothing. The most he could do was make her feel safe.
He turned around, knelt before his daughter, and looked her right in the eye.
`` Look at me,'' he said. `` Look at me. It's going. To be. Okay.''
It sounded believable to him, and he could see on her face she bought it.
`` Good,'' he thought. `` This is all I can do. There are worse ways to go I guess.''
`` Daddy,'' Aimee said. `` What are those on your back?''
He saw light burning behind him, huge wings stretching into the sky.
`` What the hell?''
All knowledge of the universe, its history and its mechanics poured through him. His name he could not recall, and all that remained was Father.
The thing that seemed so massive moments ago now was but a speck of sand on a beach to him. He smiled.
`` We never left,'' his voice boomed, knocking people over. `` We are love. We always have been.''
Father raised one hand to the air, his palm toward the sky.
The meteor stopped.
`` It's going to be okay, children.''
-
He opened his eyes. Next thing the man knew, he picked himself up off the ground. His button up shirt had no back to it, and his daughter looked up to him, grinning.
`` You were right daddy! Hahaha! And I got to see mommy too!''
He looked around, and everyone else picked themselves up, brushed themselves off, and looked skyward.
The father scratched his head.
`` Well that was weird.''
|
[ WP ] You make a character from one of your online games , give him a story .
|
Manditory Soundtrack for story, trust me and read. ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=ffLbdhP0auc )
The light; some love it, some hate it. I hate it. Simple enough... until you know the sadness required to keep the night in your heart.
There are plenty of scenarios, and you will never be the hero if I still stand.
-Shouri Renesai
`` This is going to be one hell of a night for me.'' a cloaked man mutters, sitting in a pub.
`` You need a refill?'' the bartender, skinny and old, the grey hairs around his beard speak of stories told.
`` Yeah, whiskey.'' came the response from the fully Dark robed elf. The bartender winks, familiar with the shadowy figure. The bartender proceeds to grab the bottle of whiskey, and another glass cup in his other hand. The ice falls into the glass graciously and the bottle comes down.
`` Did n't expect you tonight.'' The bartender staring at the elf, giving a small grin.
`` Did n't expect a target.'' the elf replied in a low voice.
It was obvious that the bartender considered the words an omen. Knowing how capable this elf was.
`` Do n't destroy the bar tonight...'' and then in a whisper, `` Shouri.'' said the bartender pouring the whiskey over the ice and into the cup.
There was a grin from the elf, but it was mischievous no doubt.
Shouri merely gave a smirk, sliding more then at least a thousand gold over the bar counter wrapped tightly on the top in a pristine translucent ribbon. The bartender, finished filling the glass, lets out a heavy sigh.
`` I know you cover the expenses, but it's still work for the men who repair everything you destroy.'' Pausing, `` That takes away business, let alone reputation.'' said the Bartender.
`` Quiet this time, slip him this.'' the drow slid a closed palm over the counter. The bartender hesitating.
Shouri was a name of hell to everyone aware of his existence.
`` Stealth is n't your strong suit.'' the bartender leaned over the counter, speaking some words of truth to the elf.
`` Consider it generosity.'' Shouri smirked, which only brought about a sigh and a turn of his back to the drow.
`` Im getting tired of this,'' The bartenders glaze did not dissuade the drows eyes.
`` You're gunna need a better bar than mine, me friend, if you wish to destroy it.''
The elfs ears picked up easily the bartenders muttered words.
`` Just remember who keeps you the only bar in town.'' came a confident response from the drow, Shouri. The bartender, looking diligently at the Dark elf, shook his head.
`` Ca n't say anything, i'm left to plea... `` Sure.'' a nickname the bartender had given the elf to provide his cover.
The elf grinned, he was smiling, from cheek to ear.
`` I gave you the poison, did I not?'' his jagged teeth bearing grin.
The bartender sighs, signalling the eyes of the drinks owner to the bar. Torgar, a warrior of close enough legend to the drow himself. This was one where a one on one battle would come down to skill, hell maybe even luck.
`` You have to wipe your ass before filling me drink?'' The agitated warrior throwing the same drink of poison to the bartenders face. `` Fill me another!'' came an aggravated response from the armor plated warrior.
A psychotic laugh of humor came from a dark robed figure at the bar, it was loud, and even the surrounding peasants could hear the cynical tone of his voice.
Torgar took quick notice of the laugh, cautiously and without his weapon, stayed his glare with what he would see as a dark skinned elf.
`` What's so funny, drow?'' came an irritated voice of Torgar.
`` Just how you die!'' giving quick retort with the confidence this would n't be a one sided fight.
Torgar raised his hands, giving quick stare to his great sword, `` Thar'ill'' which laid at the table.
`` Seems you are without weapon, as the elf smirked, only then did the warrior begin to ready himself. There were no subtleties. This was going to be a battle.
Shouri throws off the long garbed cloak to the human warrior, blinding him. Shouri reaching to his belt mid throw with his right hand, reaching for his left to `` Mourn'' a sword able to cut the thickest of armor. The drow had left a sizable mark across the warriors plate mail. Almost a foot long.
Torgar took a minor hit thanks to his armor and made course for his sword across the room. It would n't be long before the drow kept near his pace and ready to kill.
`` It ends-'' not able to finish his sentence the drow had so maliciously exclaimed. Be it luck, or fate, that the human barbarian Torgar dodged the second slash.
Torgar had managed to grab his great sword, large enough to be almost a shield, parried the drows third attack; tonight would be more then his own blood. He was n't talking about the drow, but rather the surrounding villagers in the bar. Some of there deaths would be from him himself, Shouri, was a man of legend. There was no debate that he would either sacrifice his friends and townsfolk, or die by the blade. It would n't be a hard decision to make, for he could live another day in the expense of innocence versus his life, or face a demon that would come eventually.. `` The Drow'', known now of his caliber, clearly was, Shouri Renesai; a name known to many who wish to live.
Parried, his third attack, the human warrior was cut from his thoughts, he could not risk the life's of so few before his immediate battle. Torgar cleaved using the weight of Thar'ill's momentum, hacking even fellow villagers along his path of whirlwind toward the drow.
Shouri knew of the warriors persona, and instead of fighting, lept back as the human warrior would be forced to slaughter his own. Shouri smiled all the more. If he even considered retreating, the formidable warrior would only spred ruin to his own name.
Jumped back mid tow of Torgars spin, he kept distance, jumping back in retreat of the warrior who cleaved his own kin. Furniture was destroyed greatly, but not by the drows hands. The bartender just walked out, Shouri noticed, could n't really blame him.
Suddenly Torgar stopped, dizzy, but able to comprehend his environment. This was Shouri's chance, leaping forward after the spin had stopped, he threw a few daggers that had been strapped to his brown leather vest at the warrior. They were met with perfect counter, as Torgar sheltered behind his huge great sword.
`` This is n't personal,'' came a whisper. `` It's just business.'' the drow had already stepped behind his defenses, leering at the final cut of his scimitar, `` Mourn'' spoke softly the drow, as the humans head was severed, blood spurting and covered the elf in a rain of blood.
Shouri looked at the bartender, a sight to haunt nightmares, dark, vicious, and covered in the blood of his enemy, and also the innocence. Shouri gave smile, and ran off in the night. His story to continue.
|
[ WP ] Interstellar space travel is possible through the use of massive genetically engineered creatures . You have just been given a egg , you are now a captain .
|
A Errin egg, through the mail. Strange way to get your keys to a new life, especially seeing as they are thousands of credits to sign for, let alone to receive.
There were dozens of tests that you needed to do to get your hands on an Errin egg, most of them had to do with reflexes and personality. You did n't want people who were going to be cutthroat out in the rush, finding new forms of life to welcome to the galactic empire. You wanted people who were going to work for the greater good of life, people who were n't in it for the money.
Of course if they were n't in it for the money, they would n't have dropped so much trying to get an egg, so getting one was more about being a good liar on tests than it was about actually being the kind of person who would pass the test. If you could pass the personality test, you were going to be ripped to shreds the second someone found out you had an Errin egg, because you probably did n't carry a gun with you to tell people.
Edvard pulled the thing back into his apartment, opening the package and inspecting the egg from every direction, it was a small one, sure, but their ability to open wormholes was the key, not their ability to be big pets. Sure larger once could fight, but smaller ones meant that he could have a smaller ship, house five to ten and keep his operation small. All you needed to do was get the first scan of something valuable and you got paid for it by someone. Sometimes it involved dragging a rifle to the planet surface.
He reached back into the box that the egg had come in, fumbling around for the datapad that would come with it, a timer was listed, showing him that the creature would hatch in seven days, old enough to open a portal to places that nobody had seen. That meant he only had seven days to commission a crew, and a ship hull that could carry one of those things. Lord knew his personal craft would n't be able to hold it, plus the thing was barely keeping in orbit.
He made it to the city five hours later, egg safely stored in a vaut that would only open to him. He had hastily written down a list of people that he was hoping were planetside, and one that he was somewhat hoping was n't. That was the person he was trying to track down tonight.
Edvard slipped through the shuttle gate, scooching past the massive ships on the maintenance walkway, the cameras would n't bother him, it was n't a big enough infraction as long as he was just trying to find someone. The second you touched a ship you were lit up by automated security, but they did n't care as long as you kept your hands, however many of them you had, to yourself.
Down past the gate, there was a small dive bar, carved into the hull of an old colony ship. The thing had been massive, the first life bearing craft to bring people to Tazik 3, but it had been taken apart for scrap, only small pieces left by the original settlers who needed the metal to start their lives. Cities had grown on the planet since then, but people left some remains of the archaic craft out of respect. Even if the only respect they showed was pouring drinks across it's alloys.
He strode into the bar and did a quick scan of the room, he did n't see Salesh, and so he turned to leave, and then sighed as he caught the man in his sights, standing just to the side of the door, out of sight when he walked in, but almost beside him at the moment. He was easy enough to tell apart from the crowd, there were n't this many humans this far from a human colony world. Tazik 3 was the home to a lot of races, but was established before humans joined the court, so some of the people on the planet had never seen a human before, you got used to the stares.
Salesh was a smaller man, about two inches shorter than Edvard, not uncommon seeing as he was born on Phenax, and had probably spent most of his time in space. The last time these two had met up was right before Salesh got put behind bars for attempted robbery of the C-564 Kestral, a mining ship that Edvard was Co-captaining, and he had been the one with the honour to shoot Salesh down, and sent him crashing right into the hands of the law. Needless to say, they were n't exactly friends, but Salesh was a hell of a pilot.
|
[ WP ] An alien explorer and a Human astronaut encounter each other on Mars . Both think the other is a halucination .
|
After long last, Ron set his feet on Mars. He was excited, happy, and a little light headed. His head was buzzing due to the pressure chamber, and he had n't really had much sleep in the past few days.
The first thing he noticed as he took off the pressure chamber was a fly. It was unmistakable - but he did not react on it. He knew the entire humanity was watching through the live broadcast, from his vehicle's camera. Live - as far as live can be - which means with a delay of 12 minutes and 8 seconds, the time electromagnetic waves take to reach Earth from the current orbital location of Mars.
Though his hallucination was very stubborn, he ignored the fly which was apparently buzzing happily in the thin atmosphere that Mars had. He was fully aware of his delusion and he felt proud of his awareness. He was in control. He waved at the camera, felt entire Earth watching him. And started moving towards the designated point with the flag.
-- -
Inside the antigravpod, Tinct was happy. The computer has been calibrated with preset orders and it should take care of everything. His job was to monitor in case something unanticipated happened, and anything required his interference. He sensed a gravitational deformation ahead - and it appeared to be in some sort of flux, as in it was moving - he imagined a giant species - much like the primitive oliphaunts who occupied his sister planet. But _this_ planet did n't have any big lifeforms according to reports.
He could also almost vaguely sensed an intelligence... and he was sure his imagination was carrying him away. Based on mission parameters, there was no chance of any intelligent inhabitants. At the most there could be presence of microbial species - but chance of any living lifform anywhere on this planet was less than 25 basis points.
He still set out a thought-greeting, just in case. And of course, there was no reply.
In 5 minutes, his job was done. He happily switched on his transporter - and it sent him back through the hole that was created between his home planet and this one. Although they were separated by a space-time interval of 200 billion light years, the travel back took an instant.
He looked at the readings from the computer. Favorable. His species could expand and colonize here, he wondered if they will ever find any other planet so suitable as this one, out of the 100s of thousands screened by their automated extraterrestrial navigation program, so far. His mission was a success!
-- -
His job was done. The fly was nowhere to be seen too. Imagine, first man on Mars... having hallucinations on his mission! He debated if he should make a note of it. He decided it was n't too important. With the flag of his country proudly standing on Mars, the hallucination quickly disappeared from his active thoughts. His mission was a success!
|
[ WP ] You are defending your home world from the alien invasion . The aliens are from Planet Earth . You are not .
|
`` Commander Varpovi''
`` COMMANDER VARPOVI!!''
It took me a while to get away from the daydreaming. At other times, it would have been gross insubordination, but I was too tired to stand up.
Seven years. Seven long years we had fought a battle. A battle that was all but lost. If these moral fools had their way, we would be gone. A forgotten race.
Seven years ago I would have been terrified, but today, I did not even flinch when the exo-disc I had handed over 24 hours back was slammed on the table.
`` Everything we stand for, or stood for, for hundreds of millennia, you want to destroy that in one shot. Is it so Commander?''
I just looked up. More council members had poured in, and the council prime stood towering over me.
My silence bothered him, I knew. But I would not speak till the entire council was present.
`` Well?''
This time the voice was softer. I figure, he took my silence for fear. How wrong that fool was. About everything.
I stood up. It seemed like an effort. In the harsh light of the chamber, my medals glowed, but instead of pride, all I felt was their weight. The weight of the countess children of our worlds slaughtered by the Homo Erectus.
We had watched them. Watched their wars, their struggles, their first space flight. Even given them a glimpse by the UFO visits, and twice prevented their extinction by asteroid. After the first event, which caught us unawares, we decided to step in, and prevented that from ever happening.
But still it looked, that that would annihilate themselves by war.
Eventually, those who had faith won, and they were one. And they looked upwards towards the stars.
The first contact was cordial. As expected.
But what was not expected was their greed. Their greed was everything. No matter what gifts we offered they wanted more.
Foolishly, we were arming them for decades, and one day, they came. With their entire fleet.
We never invested much in warfare, and lost two planets within a year. All dead.
Yet, I sat in front of these moral fools, who hung on to the virtue of our `` peace loving and ethical legacy''.
`` Council, I propose, extinction of our entire race. We can all die''
The uproar was expected, and I could catch a few cuss words.
As the din rose, and cries of traitor and coward went up, I dropped the bomb
`` Or we deploy the muari''.
In the deafening silence, I flicked the exo-disc back at the prime council.
`` Never!''
`` How can we do this. This is Genocide''
`` Yes prime council, it is, but alternative is also genocide, of our people, or slavery.''
The murmurs started, and my messenger beeped. I had done enough insubordination today, whats one more. So I took out my messenger, and read the broadcast.
And started walking out...
`` Stop commander, this is not done yet''
`` Yes prime council, its done''
I could not miss it as I ran to the command console over five hundred meters way.
Took me a good minute, but I was n't too late.
After all how often you see something so magnificent.
To witness a supernova is once in a lifetime event for most, and on the screen, as the entire galactic quadrant went supernova, the only emotion I felt was relief.
EDIT: Grammar
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.