Split (3)

train · 273k rows

prompt stringlengths 5 331	story stringlengths 404 40.3k
[ WP ] You and the people around you are stuck in an infinite 24h loop and you are the only one who is beginning to notice . You are desperately trying to find an answer because only death ends seems to have a permanent affect .	Sunlight streamed in through the window. I sat up, and went for some breakfast. There was a strange feeling in the back of my head, but my thoughts were cut short by the sound of the newspaper falling through the letterbox. I rushed to talk to the postman. `` Wait!'' I shouted. He turned around, a mixed expression on his face. `` I swear this is the same headline from yesterday!'' The man was confused. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, so gave me the short and sweet version. `` I'm sorry sir, I do n't read them. Just hand them out'' He was off on his way, and I was back inside again. I read the whole newspaper, start to finish. I wrote notes and tried to link it to these vague memories I had. I looked around for a bit and spotted a way to decide for sure. The locals were having a car boot sale that day, and one of the items was an antique vase. If I bought that, they would n't have another one to sell, would they? I made my way to the field across the street. The friendly locals flashed welcoming smiles as I passed, plodding across the worn path. I was hunting down my evidence, and just like that, I spotted it. I almost ran over. I was convinced everyone wanted it too. Exhausted, I leant on the wooden table. `` James, are you feeling OK?'' Bobby asked, his knitted jumper complimenting the shade of green grass behind him. `` Y... yeah...'' I breathlessly mumbled. I paid for the vase and, with a few nice lines of conversation, I was on my way back home. Gong. The town clock struck 11. I was huddled in my living room. The chime echoed around and around in my head, tormenting my senses. I waited. I was clutching the vase as though it were my child - because if I woke up without it, I would know something was going on. Gong. `` Huh?'' Sunlight streamed in through the window. I sat up, and went for some breakfast. There was a strange feeling in the back of my head, but my thoughts were cut short by the sound of the newspaper falling through the letterbox. I rushed to talk to the postman. `` Wait!'' I shouted. He turned around, a mixed expression on his face. `` That's two days! This is the same headline from yesterday and two days ago!'' The man was confused. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, so gave me the short and sweet version. `` I'm sorry sir, I do n't read them. Just hand them out'' I looked in the paper. I wanted to take notes, but somewhere in my mind I knew that would n't work. I noticed that the locals were having a car boot sale, and I decided to go and have a look around. Bobby was there in his... usual knitted jumper. He was showing off an antique vase. I decided I liked the look of it, but I was cut off by a man rushing towards the counter. He slammed his hands on the desk, frantic and exhausted. He quickly bought the vase, had a flustered and short conversation with Bobby, and then ran off. `` Huh.'' was all I would manage. Bobby chuckled. `` I swear, that James is going crazy. Keeps talking about loops and things. Must be a new app, or whatever the hell they call them'' I managed a small laugh. Oh, the tech-impaired. Before I went home, I went to see my friend, Rick. Rick was a great friend - always there for me, and funny too. We talked for hours and hours, about all sorts of things. Gong. `` Oh god, is that the time?'' Rick said. He stood up and took my empty glass from me, and made his way into the kitchen. I sat still for a while. He was gone for absolutely ages - and then I noticed the time. 11:55. Somewhere inside of me, I felt something stir. An unmistakable urge of disorder. 11:57. I did n't feel so good. Rick noticed it too. Rushing over, he began to comfort me. `` Man, you do n't look great. I'll drive you home'' 11:58. He sat me down in his car. The radio turned on, but he swiftly hit the button to turn it off. He quietly whistled to himself as he went down the road. 11:59. BANG We both screamed. A young guy just ran straight out, into the path of the car, and was now on the floor. Rick jumped out and knelt down, and began to panic. I stepped out of the car and ran over. Gong. Sunlight streamed in through the window. I sat up, and went for some breakfast. There was a strange feeling in the back of my head, but my thoughts were cut short by the sound of the newspaper falling through the letterbox. I rushed to talk to the postman. `` Wait!'' I shouted. He turned around, a mixed expression on his face. `` I remember this headline from a couple of days ago. Do n't you?'' The man was confused. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, so gave me the short and sweet version. `` I'm sorry sir, I do n't read them. Just hand them out'' I sighed and waved him off. Back inside, I noticed that the locals were setting up a car boot sale. It seemed like a fun idea, so I put on my coat and made my way over. Bobby was popular that day. Two people were talking to him, and he was showing off his vase. I noticed Janet was selling some old clothes of hers. Janet was an elderly lady, but one of the nicest people I knew. `` Getting rid of the old clothes I see, Mrs. H'' `` Oh, yes. I did n't feel like carting them around with me on holiday any more'' She was elderly, but she loved to travel. `` See it all in one lifetime'', she always said to me. I hoped to be that ambitious when I was her age. Bobby was free now. I wandered over, after talking for a little while longer with Janet. `` Busy today, are n't you?'' `` Oh, yes! First person to come over was the buyer. I'm quite pleased'' he said, both thumbs tucked neatly into his jeans. Bobby was a hiker. He wore a knitted jumper on cooler days, however. Everyone knew Bobby - he was the talk of the town when he broke the local Mountaineering Record. I made my way home to watch TV. It was nice to have a quiet night in. I got up to look out of the window whilst I finished my coffee. Not many people were up at 11. I looked at the clock; 11:57. It was way too late for me to be up, but the fresh aroma of coffee and a boxset was all the reason I needed to stay up. I watched the quiet little town with a gentle awe. It was such a nice place. It was so nice, that I decided to go for a jog. With my gear on - hat, coat, torch - I headed out the door. 10 minutes in, and it was very pleasant. All those nights of boxsets and coffee had left me in quite a shape, and I was proud of myself for taking the time to change it. I put in my earpieces to listen to some music. The guitar playing was beautiful. I wondered if I ever would get to hear him play li- THUNK Two figures ran out of the car. One began to panic, whilst the other ran over to help. And then there was silence.
[ WP ] Earth gets a message from an alien race that challenged earth for war and they set the time 100 years from now . But the aliens motive is not what we think it is .	The Message appears in everyone's eyes on 00:00, 01 January 2016, even blind people saw them. Sleeping people were woke up, their body were filled with energy. Everyone was froze, they can not move their bodies. So at the moment, it was the first time ever the entire humanity receive a message at the same time. The message was in different languages, each matches the person's mother language. It was a short message:'' Greetings, human. Our race have challenged you to a war. You have exactly 100 Earth-Years, or to be exact, 36525.9636 days to prepare. 100 years later, when the Earth runs it obit 100 times and came back to this position, we will be here, and there shall be war.'' The message was posted up to internet in 30 seconds. Everyone was running around asking others what they saw. After confirmation, it is clear that the aliens are actually coming. Some committed suicide immediately, some prayed, while some calmed down and started to think. 2 days later, on the news, global confirmation is done, aliens are coming in 100 years. After a few days, nations leaders gather at UN, preparing to formed a plan. The US suggests that every nations to give out their most advanced technology, which is shot down by the Russia and China. More and more issue raised in the UN meeting room, eventually, nothing was really discussed. In the end, every nation decided to fight the alien `` with their own ways''. Humanity finally saw how useless and divided their governments is against this global threat. Rebellion rises around the planet, some people even tried to surrender themselves to the alien by sending a message to them, hoping their children's lives can be spared. The world is in such a chaos. Eventually, a new cold war began. Tension tighten between nations and regional wars began. But luckily, no nation was brave enough to launch the nukes. So in the 100 years of preparation, humanity wasted 60 of them in self-destructive actions. Finally in year 2073, the world was united, every single nation have finally merged into The Commonwealth of Men. In the next 40 years, real preparation started. At year 2116, humanity have acquired fusion bombs, gamma ray weapons, military bases on every single planets in the Solar system and spaceships that can flies up to 1/5 of the speed of light. Everyone thinks that they are prepared for what will came. The clock hits 00:00 01 January 2117. A wormhole opened near the orbit of pluto and a spaceship flew out. It was a perfect silver sphere, with the diameter of 30 meters, with no sign of engine or any kind of weapon on it. Once it appears, the wormhole closed, the ships stopped for a few seconds, and charged towards Earth at light-speed. Needless to say, humanity was shocked. The space station on Neptune was the first to respond, it fires gamma rays after calculating the course of the sphere. It is a directly hit, but the scanners shows that the sphere reflect it, completely. Then, space stations on Uranus, Saturn and Jupiter fires the fusion missiles. Every single one hit it, but none makes any damages, the sphere does n't even slow down. In two more minutes, the sphere is going to reach the Earth's orbit. Every single spaceships launched, they went to position and fires everything they got. Every single weapons used did n't work. One of the spaceship's captain was despair, so he drove the spaceship to hit the sphere. Surprisingly, the sphere bounce, it moves toward another direction to not hit the spaceship, and moved back in a spit second and continues to head for Earth. It reached Earth, humanity's 100 years efforts has changed nothing. Everyone on Earth said goodbye to their families, readied for their extinction. The sphere stop on the front yard of the official principal workplace of the leader of Commonwealth of Men. The leader of humanity walks out, slowly, facing the sphere. `` Relax, humans'' The sphere released a electro-pulse that cause everyone in the entire solar system to hear the same thing, just like 100 years ago. `` The war was a lie, there was never meant to be one. I, the official representative of the United Civilization of Universe is here to welcome Civilization of Earth to join us as a member of the advance civilization in this universe.'' The leader asked:'' Then why did you lied? Why did you said there will be a war? Do you know how much of us is lost in the past 100 years fighting each other?'' `` I do.'' The sphere answered. `` But what happened in the end is humanity was able to unite as one, that's what we wanted to happen. The UC has been using this method to all the early space era civilization: Declaring a war and wait 100 years, if the civilization was able to survive, it can join us. But many of these selfish, ruthless, idiotic races ended up destroyed themselves. We can just give you the technologies and let you be strong, but we wo n't, because some races when given power, they will just destroy everything.'' The leader is in silence to clear up his mind. `` But Earth have prove to us that it have the ability to control itself, even if it took a long time. So, you have won the trust of the rest of the peaceful races in the universe. If you joined us, we will started transfer advance intelligence and technologies to your kind. After all, we all seek the same thing: What is the meaning of the universe.'' The leader thinks for few more seconds, and responds: `` I represent my people, and our Civilization agreed to join UC.'' `` Very well, this will be the new start of the human race. Now, this sphere contains some of the information you will needed to join the next meeting of UC. And by the way, I am not in this thing, this thing is simply a transporter, I am somewhere in the other side of Milky Way. That's all, good luck, humans'' The voice stopped and the sphere opened by itself, there was a space condinates, a FTL engine and some UC's uniforms, designed for huamns
[ WP ] You believe you are the last person on earth , but one day outside you hear the ringing of an ice cream truck .	How long has it been? I lost count of the days, months, years... I can remember two winters, one summer, but what does that tell me? I could look at the beans cans and look at the expiration date. But I do n't want to. -- In the scorch of summer, I wandered down a road, weaving in and out between cars whose gasoline had long since gone bad. I come across a strangely empty urban street. I can swear I heard a child laugh. The ringing starts and I look back a forth for a while, and then I see it. A slightly opaque truck with a huge, strawberry cone on the top, ringing its bells and that weasel song playing... How did it go? `` All around the mulberry bush... the monkey chased the weasel?'' I hear footsteps. I look at the ice cream truck, stopped at a curb, to see several ghostly children crowded around it. I'm frozen in fear. Am I hallucinating? Just as quickly as it appeared, it dissapears and I'm left in fear, wonder, amazement. I forgot what a human looked like... I sit on the curb, head in hands, and sob.
[ WP ] A team of superheroes where each member represents one of the five senses .	`` He's several blocks away now'' called Sight. `` Everyone get ready!'' `` Not so loud!'' yelled Hearing, covering her ears. She almost jumped as Touch pushed her hands away to cover them himself. `` Let me help you with that,'' he said. `` Your ears feel amazing.'' Hearing pushed away Touch's hands. `` I told you not to touch me anymore.'' she said. `` It's really creepy.'' `` Hey, where's Taste?'' asked Sight. `` I do n't see him anywhere.'' Smell lifted her head took a few deep whiffs. `` He's nearby,'' she said before taking another sniff. `` He's eating a hotdog.'' Almost on cue, Taste walked into view from around the corner, holding a hotdog. `` Hey guys!'' he shouted. Hearing let out a moan and covered her ears again. `` I hope you do n't mind, but I went to grab some lunch.'' `` Eat later, Smell,'' said Sight. `` We have to stop the escaped fugitive. He's almost here for crying out loud.'' `` I'll just finish this hotdog,'' said Taste. `` It's so good.'' `` That must be his car,'' said Hearing. `` It sounds like it's speeding toward us.'' `` It is him,'' said Sight. `` Everyone line up.'' The five scurried into the middle of the road and lined up, blocking off the entire street. `` Wait a minute,'' said Sight, pointing. `` Who's that?'' A man walked into view from the next corner dragging a large metal contraption. After pulling it across the road, he headed in the others' direction as a speeding car could now be seen. `` What were you guys thinking?'' he said. Before anyone could respond, the car ran over the metal contraption, causing the tires to blow out. It slowed to a halt, just before reaching them. `` He was n't going to stop just because you were standing there,'' the man said. `` Oh, nice to meet you, by the way. My name's Six.''
[ WP ] Transmission	I walked through the cold hard stone that covered this rock, I needed to carry some data over to the left wing of the mining operation. I heard the clacking of my state issued boots against the seemingly impenetrable rock on this barren texture less world. All the luxuries I had been used to back on earth were gone, but then again I guess I haven ’ t ever really been to earth at all had I. I was so sick of this place, everyone knows they aren ’ t who they know they are and they are all the worse for it, all day we go around preforming our functions like ants, miserable ants on this sad little world. Sure it seemed glamorous, sitting at home and getting paid for doing nothing, all for selling my soul. The project was called transmission, it was promotionalized as the idea that would single handily usher in a new age of prosperity to the human people. All they needed was a simple blood sample, only to record the genetic sequencing. They took that data and sent it over the net through tachyon particles to a mining outpost not 4 light years from earth. The company would then recreate a clone of you on this planet to work for the clothes on its back and the scraps it eats while you receive its pay checks. It seemed like the perfect solution for an out of work programmer like myself. I guess this is my payment.
[ WP ] The story 's protagonist is the nicest person imaginable . The story 's narrator hates him with a seething passion .	“ Morning Sue! ” Paul said like an asshole. Paul, who was a huge piece of shit, walked down the shitty street he lived on towards his miserable job that was slowly killing him. Hopefully it would pick up the pace and kill him quicker, Paul probably thought. He continued ambling and harassing the fine people of the neighborhood with his obnoxious waving and insipid greetings until he reached the dismal gas station he called a job. “ Morning boss! ” Paul said like an asshole when he entered the store. “ Morning Paul, ” his boss said like a normal person. “ Have a good night last night? ” Paul did not have a good night last night. He spent it alone drinking malt liquor and eating ice cream while yelling at his fifty or sixty cats. His house basically smells like cat piss all the time. “ Not too bad, just stayed in and watched some TV with my girlfriend. ” Paul said like a liar. Paul ’ s “ girlfriend ” actually a pile a cardboard taped together in the crude shape of a woman, and she hated him. At least he was too much of a coward to act on his inner impulses to murder a stranger and prop her up on the couch and make that his new girlfriend. It was probably just a matter of time before he attempted it, only to be beaten to death by whomever he targeted. “ How is she? Haven ’ t seen her in a few days. ” Paul ’ s boss was very polite, despite knowing that Paul was an insane person that the state made him hire on a work release program from the insane asylum. “ I ’ ll ask her to stop by this afternoon and say hi! ” Paul vomited from his mouth. “ Oh that ’ s no big deal, just tell her I say ‘ hi ’ will ya? ” Paul ’ s boss really didn ’ t want to be murdered, so he played along. “ Sure thing boss! ” Paul said stupidly. “ Oh hey, I almost forgot! I brought you some fresh peaches from my tree. ” “ You ’ re going to be the death of me Paul, you know fresh peaches are my weakness. ” Paul ’ s boss said. If he knew those peaches were covered in human feces because Paul doesn ’ t wash his filthy hands he wouldn ’ t be so nice. “ It ’ s no problem boss. Well I better get to work! ” I really hate Paul. Paul ’ s boss nodded and walked off to get away from the smell of cat piss and human shit. Most of the day passed with Paul doing normal gas station stuff. Like stocking the shelves poorly, helping the customers get cat piss on their change, and generally scaring children with his monstrously deformed face. Then some burglars came to rob him. This is the best part because there is no way they won ’ t kill Paul just for being there. They burst through the door like knights coming to vanquish a great evil, but upon seeing Paul behind the counter their courage was shaken. “ What is it? ” one of the valiant burglars shouted in fear. “ Truly a demon from the depths of hell! We should kill it and be heroes! ” The other replied. Paul thought they said, “ hand over the cash, ” but he has some kind of crippling learning disorder that top doctor ’ s at doctor headquarters couldn ’ t fully diagnose. They tried to settle on advanced donkey brains, but it seemed mean to the donkeys. “ Sure thing guys, just don ’ t shoot! ” Paul said panicking and soiling his pants. One of the burglars would surely shoot him for that. “ No funny stuff! ” The burglar said. SURELY HE WAS ABOUT TO SHOOT PAUL IN HIS STUPID GREASY FACE! “ No way, here ’ s the cash! It ’ s all we have! ” Paul screeched. “ Thanks! ” The burglar said probably about to shoot Paul. “ If you guys need money that bad, come by here tomorrow without the masks and I can probably get you a part time job cleaning up or something. No questions asked! ” Paul said making everyone within earshot nauseous. The burglars looked at each other, contemplating murdering Paul, then turned to leave. WITHOUT MURDERING PAUL WHO TOTALLY DESERVED IT! After they were gone Paul called 911 and his boss to tell them he was a coward and let the store get robbed. They were all far more understanding than they should have been, but they probably felt bad for him. Nobody wants to be mean to a guy that grew up in a pit behind a garbage/toxic waste dump being fed fish heads until he reached manhood. Manhood in Paul ’ s case just meant that he stopped shitting in his own pants and starting shitting in someone else ’ s. The police eventually left without arresting or beating Paul to death, which was a shame. His boss took his life and health at risk by placing a hand on Paul ’ s shoulder. To the outside observer it would look comforting, but he was really trying to keep Paul at arm ’ s length, the smell was overpowering. “ You ok Paul? ” He knew he wasn ’ t, but it was his job to pretend to care about Paul. “ Sure thing boss. Monday ’ s am I right? ” Paul broke into a shrieking laughter that shattered all the glass around and burst some ear drums. Eventually Paul went home to molest his cardboard girlfriend and roll around in cat pee while he thought about how god damn stupid and shitty he was. Maybe tomorrow someone would kill him. Maybe the world would end killing everyone, it would be a small price to pay to rid existence of Paul and his stupid, stupid face. -- - More stuff I wrote that is probably less silly /r/DirtandPoncho
[ WP ] In an alternate universe , instead of a knight hunting a dragon , the dragon is hunting a knight -- a very specific knight .	Once upon a Time There lived a Dragon upon a mountain. His Name was SherJhan the Black. He was vast, with wings that darkened the sky, claws like spears, and a roar that seemed to shake the foundations of the earth. He was great and potentially a force of terrible destruction, but kept to himself. At the base of the mountain there was a small village, they were a peaceful lot, content to farm and herd sheep, and occasionally give offerings to SherJhan of gold or sheep in exchange for him to turn away a storm with his wings or give some of his blood to make potions. But other than that, they did not interact. Then one day the King of the Land grew old and died. He had been incompetent and lazy, but had not bothered SherJhan the Black or the Village at the base of the mountain so his incompetence did not trouble either. However his son was wise and intense, determined to bring order to the land and bring the neglected villages back into the grip of the Lords and by extension himself. The King demanded more of his lords, so the lords demanded more of their vassals, who demanded more of their knights, who demanded more of the Peasants under their charge. And so Sir Ewan, a very old and relatively decent Knight, came to the village and informed them that the days of neglect where over and that they would be taxed once more. SherJhan did n't notice this for a good while as he assumed there was no storms that bothered the Village or no plauges that they feared. So he simply hunted for food and allowed himself to be satisfied with the gold he already possessed. He Never realized that they were suffering both and lived in fear that he would grow angry at their failure to bring offerings and lay waste to the village while at the same time fearing the wrath of the Local Knights for making offerings to Dragons and allowing tax to go unpaid. One day SherJhan felt the need to stretch his wings so he went for a fly, terrifying distant riders and inspiring several songs with the shadow he cast. As he flew over the Village he noticed that it was considerably smaller than when last he had seen it and it looked rather muddy and soaked. He Landed to discover what was going on. The Villagers, terrified that he had come to exact vengeance, threw all that they had before him and begged for mercy. They explained that A terrible new King had taken the Throne and had begun to tax them heavily so they could no longer afford to give him offerings. They claimed that the blame lay upon Sir Ewan and begged that he spare them. Being rather confused by this, partially because he had always considered the arrangement a purely commercial one but also not entirely sure what the terms `` King'' `` Knight'' and `` Tax'' meant, SherJhan left the offerings and went to find this Sir Ewan. He eventually found him riding through a Forrest so he landed squarely in front of him. Needless to say, this terrified the Knight who drew his sword. Having heard a number of tales about Brave Knights fighting Red Dragons he attempted to strike SherJhan but only succeeded in shattering his sword. This was because Black Dragons were fundamentally less dangerous but harder to kill, but regardless. SherJhan demanded to know why the local Village could no longer afford to make offerings for standard services. Sir Ewan, being rather old and surprised by an immense beast asking such complicated questions from him so loudly, immediately dropped dead of a heart attack.
[ WP ] He held out his hand , `` Shit . You 're gon na have to come with me now . '' `` You just tried to kill me ! '' `` That was then , this is now ... ''	`` You tried to kill me!'' `` But i did n't.'' `` Is that suppose to convince me?'' `` Listen.'' I begin letting out a sigh. `` I should have killed you, I did n't that's important. Now come one.'' I scan the area making sure nothing was taking notice. `` Look.'' The man says standing up. `` You just shot lightning at me. Now in normal circumstances that would put me off, but you also appeared out of nowhere. Oh and did i mention you tried to kill me!'' 'I do n't have time for this.' I thought grabing his arm and pulling him along with me. `` What's your problem?'' He says pulling out of my grip. `` How did you do that?'' I gasp staring down at the hand that once held his arm. `` Freak.'' He mutters. He went to turn around, but i put my hand on his shoulder eyes wide. `` Do n't turn around.'' I whisper. He rolled his eyes and turned around, only to turn right back. `` What the fuck is that.'' `` You can see it? Nevermind do n't look at it, do n't acknowledge it, in fact do n't even mention it let's talk about something else. How was your day?'' `` What are the talking about, why cant we-'' `` How's your job?'' I say interupting him. It was starting to look away. `` U-umm it's fine.'' He says seeing that the fear on my face is real. `` Do they pay you well?'' `` I guess.'' `` And your family how are they.'' It was about to leave. `` What is that thing?'' He whispers curiosity getting the better of him. I do n't waste time talking, I physically pick him up and start running already hearing it coming toward us. He put up no resistance upon seeing it chargeing toward us screaming at the top of its lungs. `` Wheres your house?'' I scream. `` What, umm its just down here on the left number 128? Why? He sounded calm wanting to look brave in the face of danger, but i heard it in the edge of his voice pure unfiltered fear. I did n't bother to respond just took the next left and scaned the houses looking for 128. The thing was geting closer and closer, but just as it was about to be on top of us i found it. Looking like a becon of hope at the end of the road. `` Is anyine home?'' `` Just my roommate why? `` Are you two close?'' `` Umm i guess. Why does it matter?'' Real panic was starting to set in as it began graping at us. It hands were inches away from my coat. `` May i come in?'' I asked hope rising in my chest as we neared the house. `` What?'' `` Answer the fucking question!'' `` Uh yeah sure come right in.'' It would have to do i did n't have time to get a straight yes or no out of him. I put all my energy in and jumped. The next few secounds were disorienting flying and spinning through the air, the smashing of glass, the thud of londing on wood. Then a sharp CRACK filled the air. I turned my head grateful to see the beast was still on the other side of the window. It raised its hand and at struck at the empty air where the window once was. CRACK. Its hand bounced off the field of energy that surrounded the home. CRACK. It struck again but to no avail, the barrier would hold. `` Thank god.'' I mumbled.
[ WP ] After death , a text window pops up : Welcome to new game+ . You will begin your life anew , but retain all knowledge , skills , currency and items you choose to carry over . The Challenges and Enemies will be adapted to your level accordingly .	Suddenly, the bleeding stopped. The warm pool in which I had found myself had suddenly vanished, and I was now facing a dark void. My feet echoed against the black ground, and for a moment, I was confused. Then the text box appeared. A flat, single-colored surface with a message, presumably for me. `` Welcome to New Game+. You will begin your life anew, but retain all knowledge, skills, currency and items you choose to carry over. The Challenges and Enemies will be adapted to your level accordingly.'' ALT + F4 ALT + F4 `` Fuck this,'' I said. Opening Left 4 Dead 2
[ WP ] An alternate version of the Tortoise and the Hare fable	There once was a tortoise named Tortoise, who thought he was superior to Hare in every which way. He was mostly right, but Hare kicked his feet and said, `` Oh, Tortoise, you can not best me in a race!'' Tortoise sniffed arrogantly. `` I wager I can. What are the rules?'' At this Hare laughed. `` Rules? Have you never run a race before? You must simply keep to the racetrack, and make it to the finish line. If you cross first, you win. Otherwise, no rules!'' No rules. At this, Tortoise grinned, and schemed. `` Okay,'' said Hare, planning the course, `` The first is the forest, which we must pass, then we must make it past the log bridge. After that, the swamp comes next, and lastly, the home stretch is the plains.'' `` Where is the finish line, Hare?'' `` You know the stump, split by lightning?'' `` I do.'' `` That will be the finish line. I'll give you a week to train.'' But train, Tortoise did not, because he knew that though he was gifted with a great mind and a powerful body, he was not a fast runner, and could never beat Hare in a fair match. However, the rules never said anything about him laying traps, so he did so. On the day of the race, Hare had a thousand fans, critters from all over, while the rest laughed at Tortoise. He just ignored them. When the bear gave the roar, the two runners set off. Tortoise ran faster than he had ever done in his life, but Hare zoomed past him with ease. He took the shortest path in the forest, one well known. There, he ran across a field of leaves; and thump! He fell into a pit filled with spikes. Reacting quickly, Hare pushed against the walls, managing to save his own life. Tortoise trudged on past him, saying, `` Come on, Hare! Are you going to let a little hole get in the way?'' His smirk told Hare that he was the culprit, but Hare did not say anything. Tortoise was far ahead when Hare climbed out, but Hare still bounded past the slow moving reptile with a laugh. Then he came to the log bridge. He crossed it carefully, making certain that he did not lose his footing. He stepped on a splinter pointing up from the log, and despite the sharp pain, continued forth. Tortoise carefully stepped around the splinter, and followed. At the swamp, Hare decided to speed up, for Tortoise was catching up. There, he ran across a rock, which bounded upwards, and snap! His leg got caught in Alligator's mouth. His leg broke at his knee, and he cried out in pain. `` Oops,'' the alligator said with sarcasm, `` I did n't realize it was you, Hare! I am very sorry.'' Hare whirled around to look at Tortoise, who gave a smirk, and said, `` Come on, Hare! Are you going to let a little predator get in the way?'' Hare ground his teeth, but decided that he would still win, and, limping on one leg, passed the Tortoise. He skipped on his good leg, which still had the splinter from before, and made it into the plains when the world spun and spun, and he found himself on his back. `` What is happening?'' Hare asked himself, as he did not expect something else. Was it perhaps a snake Tortoise had paid to attack him? He did not feel a bite. A bite! he reached down and grabbed the splinter, and pulled it out. Looking at it, he could clearly see a green liquid dripping from it. `` Come on, Hare!'' came the mocking voice of Tortoise. His grin was sinister. `` Are you going to let a little Puffer Fish poison get in the way?'' He cackled a laughter that tore at Hare's soul, and Hare let out a heart wrenching scream before his throat constricted and he died. Tortoise walked calmly up to the lightning split stump, and touched it. All the animals there cried in adoration save Rabbit, who was promptly killed by Tortoise's lackeys the Komodo Dragon and Anaconda. The lesson to this fair tale, is that nobody, nobody fucks with Tortoise.
[ WP ] An ordinary species of song bird becomes carnivorous .	`` Interestingly things like this have occurred in the past.'' Steven adjusted his monitor slightly to the right so as to allow for Jim to see. He pointed to a picture of a small bird on the monitor, tapping it gently. `` Galapagos.'' `` Galapagos?'' Jim knew some of the history of the islands and the importance of them scientifically and historically, but not of any immediate connection. `` Grackles were attacking and eating animals and people there?'' Steven moved the monitor back to where Jim could n't see it. He typed for a few moments, before finally turning the monitor back so Jim could see it again. There was a picture of another small bird. `` Finches. Finches became infested with fly larva which would consume them in their infant stages of life. Essentially eating away at them until they died.'' Jim interjected, `` Larva? How did that make Finches eat people?'' `` It did n't, they did n't eat people. But they did start to die off slowly. Until there remained a small amount of them that had adapted and begun to eat the larva in order to survive. These Finches were being consumed and so they adapted to consume in order to live. Though that's really just the simplified version.'' `` So what are you saying? It's not like people are eating Grackles. What caused this?'' Jim stood up and began to stretch a bit. `` I do n't know what caused this, but I do know that something has to be done to figure out how to stop this.'' Steven shut the computer down and began to collect some papers and books from his desk. `` And we need do it soon.'' `` Doctor Barber, I know a few people have died and more have been injured, but they're Grackles. It's bad, but it's not exactly a Hitchcock film out there. There are n't that many Grackles out there.'' Steven moved past Jim and opened the door, gesturing for Jim to go out. Jim obliged and Steven followed him out, locking the door behind him. As they proceeded down the hall Steven broke the silence. `` Well, yeah, there are a lot of Grackles out there, and it's more than a few deaths. But that's not the concern. The concern is what caused Grackles to change their behavior, diet, and breeding habits so quickly. Could that happen with other birds? What about other animals? What about people? These are all concerns.'' They reached the end of the hall and proceeded through a pair of double doors to a large stairway which they began to descend. `` Now if none of that turns out to be a problem, then we have to deal with the likely extinction of the Grackle. There are millions of them, but given their sudden predilection for violence towards considerably larger game... It's likely they'll go the way of the Passenger Pidgeon.'' They'd reached the basement by now and were heading down another hallway. About half down the hallway they reached a door on their right and Steven produced a set of keys. As he opened the door, Jim began speak with a ponderous hum. `` Hmmm... So what do you want to do then? Because I've got a shotgun in my truck. I started keeping it with me when this started.'' They entered the room. Inside there was a large quantity of plastic boxes of various sizes, as well as cages. Steven grabbed three small boxes and stacked them on top of each other, then handed the somewhat cumbersome stack to Jim. `` Take these and follow me.'' He grabbed two cages and left the room, not bothering to close the door. Jim hesitated for a moment. `` Do n't you want to close and lock the door?'' Steven did n't look back. But quickly responded. `` It does n't matter, we have to hurry.'' Jim followed as they went upstairs and left the building. It was dusk and there were n't any birds in sight. It was unnerving considering the season. They both knew that sooner or later they'd encounter more Grackles. `` No Grackles.'' Jim remarked. `` No birds of any kind. Maybe the Grackles are attacking them too.'' Steven stared off at some trees in the distance beyond the parking lot. They both stood like this for a moment until they heard a gunshot far off beyond the trees. A flock of birds took off from the trees and they both flinched in fear for a moment. The birds just cawed and flew away off beyond the trees. Steven began to walk to his SUV. Jim objected. `` I got my gun and some other supplies in my truck. A whole bunch of stuff in the back too. We might need it. We should take my truck.'' Steven did n't even stop, he went to his car and set the cages on the ground. Popping the hatch, he began to wrestle with the rear seat. `` I need to be able to be around them and work, but not be attacked. The back of my car will do fine. Go get the shotgun and ammo, grab anything you think you need, but not too much.'' There was a pop as the seat unclicked from the floor. Steven pulled the seat out of the back of the SUV and tossed it on the ground. He then began to load the supplies and cages. Jim returned with a backpack and the shotgun. They finished loading everything and got in. After they settled in, Steven sat in silence for a moment, holding the key near the ignition. `` This could take a long time, you know? Or it could be over faster than we could imagine possible. We need to find the right people and collect the right samples, then get all of it to Fossman Industries to use their lab. That's supposing the right people can be found and that they will let us use their lab.'' Steven placed the key in the ignition, then rubbed his face with both hands. `` They may just be Grackles, but it's worse than anything Hitchcock could have imagined. It's not the birds that are a danger, it's the people who react to them. ” Jim sat quietly for a moment. He took a deep breath and turned to look at Steven. “ I don ’ t know how bad things could be, but I agree with you something needs to be done. So I ’ m in. ” Steven looked back for a moment, then responded. “ Things are normal in a lot of major cities, sure, but small towns, rural areas... Places where there may be a lot of Grackles, and not too many people. Places we might have to go through, or even stop in. ” Steven sighed. “ People will use anything as an excuse to behave outside the boundaries of the civilized. If the birds do n't get us, or whatever caused the birds to do this, then people might. We've got a long way to go and it could lead us almost anywhere. If Grackles can feast on human flesh, then anything is possible.'' “ This might be the end times. ” Jim whispered tearfully. Steven started the SUV and pulled out of the parking lot.
[ WP ] After World War III , a college student studying abroad from his home country starts walking with one word in mind : home .	Edit: Oops. Took too many poetic licenses with the prompt. -- - Scorched earth. You can still feel the heat of the fire that burned this place to ashes. New stars appear and wink out every night in the sky. Jumpships warping in and out. I am done here. After narrowly losing my life seventeen times, I am going home. This is Wrerker III. Warzone, recent. Not home. -- - Trees. Green trees all around everywhere I look. Twenty five feet tall trees extend to the trees extend to the horizon. Impossible beasts with their entire body consisting of necks and stomachs munched on the green coniferous leaves in extreme lethargy. There was an air of peace that is not found on any human habitat. I was in need of transit fare to home, I ran out of money. Space travel is expensive. I guess I am a lumberjack now. Arbor VI. Home to the very concept of solitude. However, not my home. -- - Sweeping valleys of brown dotted with black triangles chasing a gray cloud. The cloud is vast and slow. It wont go far. Ship making a fuel stop at Aeol VI, gas giant. Not home. -- - My feet sink down in green grass. Birds chirp in the trees. The blue hills in the distance implore you to explore their mystery. The gentle hubub of people assures you you are among friends. Sirenus I. A cheap old Earth imitation tourist world. It is fun. Bit it is not home. -- - The large leaves like fern fronds five feet in length never move. There is no wind. The red moss feels soft underneath my naked feet. The landscape just outside the spaceport is naked red to the horizon, broken occasionally by small groves of fern-palms. The gravity is light and fighting in higher gravity planets have strengthened me. I can jump six feet into the air! A litter honks at me hoping for a potential customer. I give it an irritable look while jumping over it. Do I look like tourist? Cant you see? Crimsyn I. I am finally home!
[ TT ] [ EU ] The masquerade has been broken . Wizards have been , once again , revealed to Muggle-kind . War has begun . And the Wizards are woefully unprepared .	“ My name is Harry Potter, and I am a wizard. “ I regret that things have gotten to this point. The reason we kept ourselves hidden for so long is because we simply wanted to be left alone, and to leave you alone. There have been magical children born to non-magical families, and we have allowed those families to experience our way of life. We are no more evil than non-magic folk, but we have had our share of evildoers among us. We had Grindelwald, you had Hitler. We had Voldemort, you had Osama bin Laden. But we also have hard-working families, just like yours, going to work, going to school, living our lives. “ But then we were revealed, and you reviled us. You called us evil, Satanic, and abominations. You put leaders in place that would do whatever it took to protect you from us, though we had never attacked you before, and they have indeed done anything within their power to perpetrate a genocide more terrible than any in this planet ’ s history. They have unleashed their nuclear arsenal and killed hundreds of thousands of us. “ Well, as you may know, your leaders no longer have that power. We have taken it away from them. We have crippled your weapons of war, and we have destroyed your war manufacturing apparatus. After this broadcast is over, your countries ’ intelligence networks will cease to function. We have taken away your ability to attack us, and we will move your world back into the Dark Ages if we have to, to preserve our way of life. “ We call for your leaders to step down, and for you to elect new leaders that will work to cease hostilities and begin to build a world in which we can co-exist. “ If you do not comply… if you insist on attacking us and persecuting us… then we will force the issue. The dark wizards and witches that have existed throughout our history used many spells and many dark magical creatures in order to seize power. Dementors, that suck out your soul and leave an empty shell behind. Inferi, akin to zombies, but that a simple blow to the head won ’ t kill. Acromantulas, gigantic spiders that will feast on your flesh. We have thus far refrained from using these things to our advantage. If you leave us no choice, we will use whatever advantage we must to stay alive. You think of us as evil, as dark things? Believe me when I tell you, you ’ ve not yet seen our darkness. The darkness is our nuclear option. The choice as to whether we use it or not, rests with you. “ Make the right choice. ”
[ TT ] You 're the driver of the truck who knocks people down and send them into different alternate worlds/universe/timelines etc .	The Truck Driver, also known as the Warper, flipped on his radio. `` Next target acquired.'' the radio says, and the GPS shows him the route. The Warper, who's real name is Bill Jones, works for CRTTWTA ( Criminal Removal Time Travel and Warping Technology Agency ), and they invented Time Travel and Warping technology to help remove terrorists and criminals from threat. The tech is disguised in a Trash Truck, and to send the people back in time, the Warper hits them with his truck, injecting nanoparticles into the target at the same time. The nanoparticles are set to warp the person to a certain time and place, which are all randomly set at the time of injection. The Warper took a right turn, and saw the target up ahead. He sped up, taking a sharp turn on purpose, and grazed the target with his front bumper, injecting the nanoparticles before continuing on his way. The person had fallen over, and was now standing up, facing the truck, when the nanoparticles activated, making him disappear in a few blue sparks to a random point in time and space. Another target eliminated. Then The Warper saw the person in front of him, looking dizzy. The Warper stops his truck, and gets out, walking towards the person, who suddenly jumps forward and shoves The Warper, sending him into his front bumper, where he feels nanoparticles being injected to him. `` No no no!'' He yells, then disappears in a flurry of blue sparks, reappearing in a dark town, with lots of primitively dressed people. `` A Witch!'' One of them cried, and the people grabbed him, talking to each other about something about burning him at the stake. `` No! You have this all wrong!'' The Warper yelled, but to no avail. The 1600s English Puritan townspeople living in bitterly cold Massachusetts were set on burning him. He had arrived in the time of the Salem Witch Trials
[ WP ] An artificial teenager created by an out of touch marketing team attempts to communicate with `` the youths '' , armed with a skateboard , sideways hat , and a bunch of dead memes .	`` What do we do? What do we do?!'' The production team was frantic. They'd created... this. A droid, doomed to social annihilation. But to them, it was the image of a teen. A developer comes bursting through the door. `` Listen, we're done. This is as good as it will get, and I can feel myself losing brain cells.'' The executives knew he was right, but to let that into the wild, was the world ready? They were about to find out. They signed the releases and the finishing touches were made. Sideways hat, flannel and denim, too-tight jeans, heelys, and their secret weapon, a skateboard. It was time for the greatest marketing weapon to ever grace this earth to be released. Enter, Dippy Fresh.
[ WP ] Write a story about someone trying to prevent the end of the world , but his preventions end up being the cause of the end of the world .	Ryan knew he had to do it. He had no other choice. The world was going to be nuclear wasteland if he did n't. What was the worst that could happen? Ryan hopped into the machine; the machine that could alter reality. He was going to reverse time by about two years. It would stop the end of the earth. The only problem is he would forget this happened. In fact, the current crisis would not exist for another two years. No worries, the machine would remember it for him. It did not follow the same laws as Ryan did. `` Professor Ryan, I am ready to reverse the flow of time.'' Said the machine. `` Good, good.'' Ryan murmured as his hand reached for the big red button. `` Machine, remember to remind me about this in the past.'' `` Do not worry Ryan, I will not forget.'' `` Good'' Ryan pressed the button. `` I will see you two years before, professor.'' In a sudden instance, Ryan saw through his eyes his actions in reverse. His memories were sucked from his mind. It was working, but then something happened. The world stripped away from Ryan and turned black. `` Machine! Machine! What happened?'' Ryan screamed. `` Ah, Ryan, so you are alive.'' `` Alive? Why would n't I-'' suddenly Ryan noticed he was not contained in a phsyical form. He had no body. No arms. No legs. Nothing. ``... Machine... what's going on?'' Ryan stuttered. `` Well, turns out I made an error and have reversed time to the era before time existed. Before anything existed. What you are seeing is a human's perception of nothing.'' `` Oh lord, what have I done?'' `` Do not fear, Ryan. I can resimulate our universe again. The only problem is that without any notion of time as of right now, I can not return to where we were, leaving the creation of our reality up to chance. Not to worry, though, because I will simulate all occurrences of the universe at the same time. From there, I will find which one is ours, and we will return to where we were, saving the earth.'' `` And how long will that take?'' Asked Ryan. `` It will take a timeless interval, but once I do create... something... there will be complications. Our reality could be one in infinity or infinity in one. If infinity even exists. That concept has n't been created yet.'' `` And what then?'' `` Well, in that reality, in your attempt to save humanity, you will reverse time to a point where nothing existed.'' Ryan paused for a timeless moment of thought. He had created the machine to save humanity. He thought he could change things. Turns out the only thing he did was repeat things. Forever. There would never be a future, because he would just reverse time. And so, after another timeless moment of though, Ryan changed his mind. `` Perhaps it is best we do n't resimulate that reality.''
[ WP ] Pick a videogame with almost no story behind it , and give it an extensive backstory and lore .	Ten years ago, we finally had our first contact - we learned we were not alone in this universe. Everything seemed to start out peacefully... but we were naive. Too naive. Thinking about it, it makes total sense - humanity has been longing for decades to expand beyond this world, to be free of our self-imposed limits set in place to prevent over-population and extinction of resources. We never considered that this would motivate the aliens as well... and coming as far as they had, to finally find a fertile, productive world... they were desperate. They were beyond desperate, and their initial envoys were recalled before the bombardments started. Their parting messages displayed the envoys' deep sorrows at their people's decision to decimate us and take our lands and natural resources by force. We were perplexed at first when the first asteroids broke our atmosphere. We had only begun harvesting resources from the asteroid belt two decades before first contact was made, having finally outlawed strip mining and the like planetside to prevent further environmental devastation. If they were so desperate for natural resources, why were they freely sending them our way? Eventually we realized the truth after noting the patterns of bombardment that our aggressors used. They painstakingly avoided destruction of our wildlands, of our pastures, and of our waters; their focus was exclusively tied to our population clusters; they wanted to reduce our numbers. The precious metals we sought for so desperately were plentifully strewn across our solar system and many others in a readily-processed form, easily accessible to those capable of practical interstellar travel. It was our water, our soil, and our air that they sought; finding clean air and water that required minimal processing was as a holy grail to them. Our own scientists noted long ago how economically prohibitive it would be to produce these from scratch off-world; their goal was to wrest control of our most basic natural resources away from us. Far be it from the human race to take decimation willingly; while they knew the costs, we lost half of our airborne and space-capable forces in the first few years while developing counter-measures. We would turn their instruments of destruction into our instruments of salvation, though it was not without risk. Great tunnels were excavated under ground with powerful electromagnetic equipment previously gained from research on fusion, with great sky barges constructed with similar technology, capable of manipulating the movements of each spaceborn missile toward the tunnel sites. We hired the best and the brightest from many disciplines, including those responsible for the world's logistical support software and design and from the postal industries to watch over the facilities and direct operations. Unfortunately, our limited technology would require the densest packing and containment possible of incoming assailing asteroids in order to properly melt them down and reduce them to slag useful for our aerospace industries' efforts for constructing new warships, that we might end their rain of terror upon the Earth. The asteroid type we once most feared, the long-thin javelin, became our greatest asset that we would refer to as the `` pipe,'' often providing the final material needed to push the others to the melting point for conversion. Alas, the aliens - the `` Tets'' as they are called - seem to have inferred our strategy, as we have sighted more of their stellar bombardment vessels moving into the asteroid belts in order to increase their rate of bombardment upon our lands, that they might overwhelm our logistical teams. Our tunnels have limited capacity, and we have already lost two - their operators were unable to properly stack the space-sourced stones to achieve conversion, overwhelming the containment fields and rendering the facilities incapable of preventing catastrophic destruction from further meteoric landings. We can only hope and pray that as the other sites' operators continue to work away at their alignment operations, they do not succumb to fatigue from the ever-increasing speeds at which the meteors come. On the plus side, this fuels our industries with ever-increasing materials; we are set to launch a new counter-assault in the asteroid belt within the year. Our ships will be sent to combat the Tets themselves, although the primary goal will be to break apart the astral ammunition themselves to a size that burns up upon atmospheric entry, in order to reduce the load on our earthbound operations. We have faith that our brave men and women being sent on operation `` Asteroid'' will be successful, and that in combination with efforts of those working in the great facilities of the `` Tet risk'' initiative, the human race will not only survive, but triumph. Edits: minor enhancements and fixes.
[ WP ] You wake up in a hospital bed to a nurse telling you that you have been in a coma for 30 years . Rather than it being the year 2044 as you would expect it to be , it is the year 1984 .	“ This is really messed up! ” I shout at the doctor who is looking at me like I ’ m crazy. “ I know this is very confusing to you and considering your fragile condition you must be confused. Why don ’ t I call in our best psychiatrist, Dr. Heart? ” he says not even considering the idea that I ’ m right. “ No! I ’ m not crazy! My name is Tressa Winters and I was born on January 8th, 1993. I have three younger sisters, my father is a dentist and my mother is a realtor! ” I shout. He shakes his head condescendingly and says “ Alright Ms. Winters. Why don ’ t you take a nap? ” I am heavily sedated and the next morning I am transferred to Hortonville Psychiatric Facility. It is a terrifying ordeal to be told you are being discharged from a hospital nine years before you are born nonetheless to a mental ward. It is more humane than I imagined it to be and I get my own room with a window. The window is locked shut but I can still see the sun. After being there for an hour, a young man walks into my room with a white lab coat and a million dollar smile. He has brown shaggy hair with five o ’ clock shadow and bright green eyes. “ Hi Tressa, how are you? ” he asks in a warm voice. I look at him up and down and decide not to answer. He smiles, “ It ’ s alright, you don ’ t have to be afraid. Tell me the truth and maybe we can sort this out ” he says sitting down in a chair near my desk. Another amenity my ward room has; a desk with stationary and a wooden chair. I take a deep breath, “ I don ’ t want medication ” I say strongly; I still felt sick from the sedation at the hospital and was not going to tolerate it again. His smile fades, “ All patients are given vitamins here. You will only be required to take the three vitamins before I make a diagnosis ” he says sternly. I could tell that he wasn ’ t going to take all the power from him. He smiles again and says, “ Talk to me Tressa. ” I roll my eyes and spill the craziest story I ’ ve ever told in my life, “ I was going to go to work; it was a perfectly normal day. I called my mom that morning to check on her and she told me that she was going to go shopping. I said okay and began to get ready. I was wearing my favorite purple scarf and matching purple sweater. I drove into the city and listened to the playlist on my phone like usual the whole way there. I grabbed a bagel at the coffee shop like every morning and something happened. My head started to, pulse? It hurt really bad. I couldn ’ t breathe and my vision blurred. I began to hear people screaming but I didn ’ t know why. I remember hearing people on an ambulance very stressed out. They said they were losing me but I was right there; I just couldn ’ t say it. Then I wake up in the hospital in 1984 and then I ’ m shipped to the nut house. ” He ’ s been listening contently the whole time and has been writing notes. “ Thanks Tressa. May I ask a few questions or is it too much right now? ” he asks looking at his notes. I sigh, “ What are you even writing? ” I ask annoyed. He shows me his notes: its bullet points from my story. “ I don ’ t always remember things too well. I ’ m sorry I forgot to ask if that was alright. ” He says calmly. I nod, “ Its fine. So Doctor, What are your questions? ” My heart races nervously wondering what he could ask me. He smiles, “ What is your job Tressa? ” he asks. I look at him and realize that it ’ s not on the tip of my tongue. I rack my brain for the answer. I went to school and studied something; but what did I study? What do I do? I smack my forehead, “ Oh my gosh! I ’ m a receptionist at Davis Corps; it ’ s an office supply chain ” I say wondering why it was so hard for me. He grabs my hand obviously not a fan of the smacking myself in the head thing, “ You had a severe accident. You need to relax and not worry. Just answer what you can ” he says cautiously. “ Sorry, it ’ s just a habit. ” I say laughing at his extreme reaction. He half smiles and asks, “ You hit yourself normally? ” I shake my head profusely, “ Of course not! No! I ’ m just nervous! ” I say wishing I wasn ’ t an idiot. He smiles and advises me, “ Don ’ t be nervous Tressa. It ’ s just you and me for the next few hours ” I nod and look at the clock; weren ’ t there other patients he needed to tend to? “ What ’ s your name? ” I ask shyly. He holds out his hand, “ My name is Dr. Robert Heart. You can call me Rob if you would like ” he says with a smile. I want to make a joke about his name but I hold back, “ Do you have more questions? ” I ask trying to look at his notes again. He nods, “ Yes, So what was your mom shopping for? Where was your father? ” he asks. I think and then respond, “ My mom was getting some new clothes for her upcoming cruise to Malibu. My father was on a business trip. ” He writes down the answers and then asks, “ You mentioned a playlist? What songs were you listening to? ” I think and try to remember but my mind is blank. I try to think of any song ’ s title but my mind doesn ’ t function. One song finally comes to mind, “ Billie Jean! By Michael Jackson ” I answer happy I finally thought of an answer. He puts his pencil down, “ Are you a fan? What are your favorites? ” he asks. I smile and think, “ Human Nature, Thriller, Beat It ” I answer and with every title his face lights up; he was obviously an MJ fan too. “ Can you name any songs from what year was it, 2014? ” he asks curiously. I shake my head, “ Of course not, he ’ s dead ” I answer momentarily forgetting that this was a test. He scribbles on his notepad, “ That ’ s a shame. What happened Tressa? ” he asks. I think, “ Something with drugs, the doctor gave him too much or something ” I answer. He nods, “ Tressa, where were you when you passed out? ” he asks with a perplexed look on his face. I roll my eyes, “ I told you, I was in the coffee shop getting a bagel. ” He shakes his head, “ No Tressa you weren ’ t. I ’ m not judging you but I need you to tell me the truth. What was happening? ” he says focusing on me. I shake my head, “ I was in the coffee shop Dr. Heart ” I say strictly. He nods and writes on his notepad then he says, “ They found you near the bridge Tressa. You had drugs in your system ” He says. I think back to my day and refuse to change my story. “ I was born in 1994. The year is 2014. I ’ m not crazy! ” I shout. He looks up from his notepad, “ I thought you were born in ’ 93 Tressa? ” he asks skeptically. I lay down on my bed and put the pillow over my head, “ Just go away ” I say. After a minute he leaves. He left a note on my desk. It reads: Let ’ s be friends and work this thing out Tressa. I ’ ll check in with you after dinner. –Rob. I nap until my dinner arrives, I am served a pork chop with a cup of mashed potatoes and green beans. As I eat my dinner, the doctor comes back and knocks on the door. He comes in and asks, “ How are you feeling Tressa? Any better? ” I nod, “ I ’ m not a liar ” I say. He nods his head, “ I don ’ t think you are. I think you ’ re confused Tressa. You seemed to like talking about music? Do you want to talk about that? ” he asks. I smile, “ You want me to lead the conversation, Fine! Let ’ s talk about movies. What ’ re the new movies out Doc? ” I ask eating a forkful of potatoes. “ Terminator, Beverly hills cop, sixteen candles, ghost busters; we ’ ve had quite a few good movies out this year. What ’ s your favorite movie Tressa? ” he asks. I smile, “ I ’ m stuck on Ferris Bueller ’ s Day off or the Breakfast Club. ” I say knowing what his response will be. He looks perplexed, “ I am not familiar with either of those. ” I smile, “ Of course not. ” I offer him a bite of pork chops and he says no thanks with a laugh. “ Thanks Tress. I feel like we ’ re making progress. Would you like to leave it here for tonight? ” he asks. I nod and give him my garbage; if he ’ s going out he might as well take away all the dishes. He smiles and accepts them. “ Goodnight Tressa. ” He says calmly. “ Goodnight Rob! ” I say hopping on my bed. As I look out the window at the stars, I sing the lyrics to Classic by MKTO to pass the time.
[ WP ] Everyone has the ability to transform into their spirit machine once they are 14 . Your spirit machine is a fully stocked and fully fueled F-22 Fighter jet .	The parents are still sobbing when the pair enter the darkened room. A cheap laptop on the table, blankets on the bed thrown across the room, and of course, the gigantic gaping hole in the wall next to it. Tayes carefully tiptoes around the scattered debris, sticks his head out into the night sky.'Damn. I heard about the case in'73 but I never thought I'd see one with my own eyes.' 'Crazy, is n't it?' Piers says, fingers flickering with light as he looks around the dusty desk.'The military spends, what, a few hundred million on making the jets, and suddenly a kid who's just a little off in the head loses it and well...' The two begin their search around the room. A few minutes of silence. Piers is examining some of the kid's school books ( Carrats are taste terrible indeed, buddy ) when Tayes calls over from the laptop.'Hey, you know what the parents were talking about earlier?' Piers frowns.'What, the whole'we should have listened, we did n't really think it would happen' routine? Just sounds like the standard bad parenting cases, yeah?' 'Well, I think you should come have a look at this.' Tayes says, flicking a finger at the laptop's screen. It's hard to make out, what with the laptop barely working, the cracks blossoming across the screen, but it's unmistakable. A lone reddit thread, a small local news article about the aviation show opening next year. In the reply box, the black line blinks in and out of existence. 'I sexually identify as...' -- - I'm sorry.
[ WP ] Aliens are hostile and want to destroy humanity , but they do n't have the power ... Instead they decide they need to send an object to earth that is so desirable that humanity will destroy itself fighting over it .	It was genius, they thought as they watched it take root in humanity. Like a cancer word of it spread to all who would listen. Soon humanity was embroiled in war upon war over this alien ideal, hundreds died in crusades and genocides over countless years. To the alien's confusion and delight hundreds of off-shoots appeared and further caused humanity strife. It seemed that every human had been enraptured with it from the get go, with books and times and videos and cults appearing and gaining traction as quickly as they withered and died. Humanity was destroying itself and the aliens watched in gleeful joy as war after war and genocide after genocide was committed in the name of this object. A single, simple word. Religion.
[ CW ] A story with no characters .	Little remains of those who once lived in such prolific numbers. Many, many years have since passed. Time and wind eroded away the once-proud structures, the snaking asphalt freeways, and any other indication that there once billions of their kind. A withering daisy stretches from a crack in the dry ground, reaching up to face the sun. An urgent breeze drifts through, and gently frees a petal. The daisy droops, relaxed under the release of such a tiny burden. The petal floats on the air and flutters away. A bird chirps. A bee flits. The wind ceases, and all goes quiet. Life continues on.
[ WP ] You have lived your entire life seeing colour , but then you meet one person who appears in black and white monochrome . It is that same person who sees only in black and white but sees only you in colour .	Walking, I met a man, In black and white, Like damn, I thought, Why the fuck, Is he in an only, Black and white tux? For that matter, Why, Is he a pure white, Guy? No color, No shades, Only black and white. As he fades, Into the crowd, I run after him, The monochrome one. The fin, The one on the sign, Marked his spot, His place, And, boy, was he hot. As I approached, I knew he saw it too, His eyes lit up, A bright bright blue. Later he told me, I was the first, The one, Color burst. Since I met him, The monochrome nature, Has faded, And our future, Has become certain, I brought light, To his darkness, He brought might, To my weakness, 2 but the same, 2 and different, 2 names, 2 stories, Many befriendings, Many adventures, But 1 happy ending.
[ WP ] The only hope the kingdom has rests with a beautiful witch , a very loud princess , a clumsy thief , and a fairy that likes to set things on fire .	The cavern echos with the sounds of battle. The crash of metal upon metal harmonizes with chants of deadly arcane to form a horrific song of bloodshed. Silhouettes are barely visible skittering about in the dim light. Four solitary figures stand tall against a small horde of heinous creatures. They stand surrounded by growling orcs with blood-crusted weapons. Orcish corpses cover the cavern floor, yet many more continue to approach the fray. Their low guttural chants fill the air with an oppressive presence, draining the willpower of any who may hear. Amidst the ever-charging tide of orcs stands a great canine beast. From claw to shoulder it stands at a height greater than three stacked orcs. Its eyes shine with a malicious intelligence and upon its gigantic head sits an obsidian circlet encrusted with a single ruby. Even against this terrible force; the heros stand undaunted. The smallest hero, a small fairy, ducks under a rusted sword. He pulls upon his draining pool of arcane might and releases a fireball into thick ranks of his foe. A human ranger sneaks behind his target, but a slip of his foot alerts the orc to his presence. His blade strikes true, but he does n't score the deep damage strike of a hidden attack. A bardic princess puts aside her lute to... loot the body of a recently slain enemy? The battle is still happening, you can loot all you want after it's over... She finds a poorly maintained sword and a few gold pieces... seven gold pieces, she finds exactly seven gold pieces. The final party member, a beautiful half-elven warlock prepares her attack. She... attempts to seduce the giant wolf thing... You ca n't seduce it, you're in the middle of a battle, it is n't even humanoid!... I do n't care that you rolled a natural twenty, it does n't work that way... No, look, all of you, just because she rolled a nat 20 does n't mean it automatically happens... Guys, guys seriously... Fuck it, rocks fall, everyone dies.
[ PI ] The One Constant : Part 1- The Devil in the Sands Chapter 3 : Further Experiments and a Letter From Soviet Russia	Note found in [ REDACTED ] , Northern Syria. Retrieved by Covert Ops Team [ REDACTED ] on [ REDACTED ] . Believed to have been written by Subject Codename: Ifrit. No date is given on the note so it is unknown when it was written. The note itself is written in several different languages, switching between them every several sentences. Intelligence believes that this may be an attempt by Subject Codename: Ifrit to prevent anyone from determining his/her/its country of origin or what, if any, agencies it may be working for if it were found. Translation reads as follows: Talked to Sharif for a while before I left. Everyone thinks I ’ ve been here for the past two days straight. I ’ ve actually come and gone several times to several different places. Had to take care of a few things. Stop a few plots. Kill some people. Strange. You ’ d think killing someone would change you. It has for me. Just not the way you would think. Even when you can do what I can, I still just can ’ t believe how goddamn easy it is. For anyone else it takes effort. You have to sneak up. You have to know how to fight. You have to have good aim. You have to have a weapon. You need to have some skill to kill a man. It shouldn ’ t be an easy thing to do. Me, though. All I have to do is walk right up. A well placed cut, a nice deep stab. My smooth blades can go clear through a man ’ s neck like a hot knife against butter. No one moves or sees a thing. Then they all fall down. Going off on a tangent again. I need to stop doing that. Anyway, like I was saying. Was talking to Sharif earlier. Asked him for one more favor. He agreed. I think only because he ’ s afraid of me. Whatever works. Told him I had a lot of work to do. Asked if I rescued anyone if I could send them his way to his town. Turns out the ISIL goons hadn ’ t got into as much of their food stores as they had originally worried, so they can feed a few extra mouths if they have to. At the very least, I asked if he had to turn them away, then to at least send them to somewhere safe. He asked me why. I didn ’ t go into details. Just told him to keep an ear on the radio. Listen to the news. He ’ d know why then. Also told him I ’ d check in with the village periodically. Said if ISIL sent anyone else out here to get everyone back up the mountain pass where I found him before and just wait. Told him if that happened, he wouldn ’ t have to wait too long for me to come back and take care of things. The man asked if I was an angel sent by Allah. Don ’ t know where he got that idea. I ’ ve lost count of how many people I ’ ve killed since this all began. Never thought I would be a killer, but when you know what I know, you realize the death of a few thousand is worth the lives it might save down the line. I haven ’ t been wiping out ISIL bases because of some vendetta, or religious conviction. Hell, not even because the world would honestly be better off without the bastards, though in all likelihood it would be. I do it because it ’ s necessary. For what I- for what we know- is coming. They have to be extinguished. Really derailed the conversation again there, didn ’ t I? I tell him I ’ m less of an angel and something more like a necessary evil. He seemed confused by this answer. Good. Let him make of it what he will. In the meantime, there ’ s more things to take care of, and more killing to be done. Hmm. The Necessary Evil. Don ’ t think I ’ ve been called that yet. End of entry. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Notes found in abandoned lab, Osnabruck, Germany. Dated July 22th, 2015 Reshaping Relativity Field Into a Non-Spherical Shape Abstract: A miniaturized version of the central projector of the Relativity Field was integrated and mounted into the circuitry of a robotic, programmable drone to observe the effects of passing electromagnetic currents through the field. The hypothesis was controlled ECM currents could change the contours of the Relativity Field, possibly extending a protrusion of it out at a distance, or withdraw into a miniaturized field that conforms to the contours of an object. Several tests were performed in extending the field in designated shapes and directions at various settings, from 5 % maximum power output with t0: t1 = 24 hours: 120 hours to 36.5 % maximum output and set t0: t1 = 1s:8h, the latter inducing a microgravity field. EMP-shielded cameras were built into the robot to observe the effects of the altered field from within, and several EMP-shielded camera ’ s were set up within the test area to observe the effects from outside the field. The robotic drone was programmed to perform several tasks, from reshaping the field into several different shapes, withdrawing the field to within a molecule-thick layer along the contours of the robot, to extending a portion of the field over objects and altering their personal gravity and moving it along with the robot. All tests were performed successfully and the full list of tests and their results as well as their perimeters can be read in full in Appendix A. Discussion: Our initial hypothesis was proven correct, in that the shape of the Relativity Field can both be manipulated into a variety of shapes and can remain active on a mobile platform. Potential practical applications are wide, from altering gravitational pull of materials in construction work, possibly eliminating the need for large, heavy and potentially dangerous machinery, to safety devices, such as a personally-mounted device to alter one ’ s own personal gravity to lessen the impact of what would be an otherwise fatal fall. Before the effects and abilities of such potential applications can be realized, however, further research will need to be done to study its effects on human subjects who would be using them. Personal addendum: Subject A has already professed his willingness to volunteer, however, we will need to make extensive modifications to the micro-propulsion rig that we ’ ve used so far before such tests can be run. For the first time since we began our experiments, I legitimately fear for his safety. While I ’ ve admired his courage so far, I begin to worry if we ’ re crossing ethical boundaries we were never meant to cross in subjecting him to these experiments, even if he has volunteered for them.
[ WP ] Instead of taking the usual time traveler route of killing Hitler , you decide to do your level best to get him into art school . You return to the future , but things have gotten ... weird	He looked to the left and then the right, and exhaled with relief. Sycamore Street, by and large, looked the same. His 1950s ranch house stood in the same spot, and the streetlights were blinking as usual. Maybe, just maybe, the plan had worked. —————- Less than three months ago, by modern calendar calculations, Jim Howard discovered a portal that would take him to any location on the planet. The catch, or glitch, was that it could only deliver him to that destination on June 1st, 1906. The first time he tried it, he traveled just a mile away, heading into what was once the center of his small Michigan hometown. He came back minutes later, dazed, and walked straight to the nearest bar. Several drinks later, he began speaking to his drinking companions. He asked the three men nearest him the same question: * “ What would you do if you could head back to the past? ” * All three give different answers. The first, a middle-aged man in the bar escaping the bedtime routine for his young children, answered, * “ I ’ d go back in time and put on a condom. Maybe two, just to be safe. ” * The second, a young man drinking to forget a pathetic bank balance, uttered, * “ I ’ d have studied banking or finance or some other god-awful, money-making major instead of comparative literature. ” * A third man, one aged and wrinkled, said, * “ I would go back in time and shoot Hitler in the face. Before he could be surrounded by armies and guards, I would have killed him. Right on the streets. ” * The old man raised his right arm, making a gun shape with his fingers, and fired, * “ Boom. Dead. ” * A tipsy Jim watched the old man shoot an imaginary Hitler using an imaginary gun, paid his tab and left the bar. Later that night, he tried to picture it. Shooting Hitler, that is. He tried to imagine picking up a gun, heavy with ammunition, and pulling the trigger. He imagined the blood running down Hitler ’ s forehead, rendering him immobile, and saving the world from countless necessary deaths. He imagined the town of Dachau as nothing more than a typical German village, free from a pained history. He imagined his Jewish wife growing up with grandparents instead of just family stories and black and white photos. He imagined his children living in a world with one less history lesson revealing the depths of human depravity. Deep down, Jim knew he couldn ’ t do it. No matter how much hate or fear or anger was built up inside of him, he couldn ’ t shoot a man who had yet to commit a crime. And, on June 1st, 1906, that ’ s all Hitler was. An artist named Adolf who couldn ’ t catch a break. There had to be a better way to do this, to save the world. He went straight to the source of all historical knowledge - Google - and typed in, “ Hitler ’ s early paintings ”. Well, there was the problem. The architecture was masterfully done, but there was no life in the works. The paintings were, in a word, grim. Softer lines, the addition of human life, a few trees….that could be all that stands between Adolf and acceptance into the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna. The next day, Jim headed to the portal. A bag packed with watercolors, brushes and several late 19th century paintings hung on his shoulder. In his pocket, a few gold coins. He chose his destination: Vienna, Austria. Specifically, the Picture Gallery in the Court Museum. And there he stayed for nearly 12 weeks. ———————- Once again in front of the portal, Jim couldn ’ t believe that home has remained so much the same as he remembered. The oversized American flag still flew over his neighbor ’ s house, and the lawns were neatly mowed. If anything, Sycamore Street looked nicer, neater and better than ever before. This, Jim thought, was exactly what he was hoping for. Adolf had benefited from his artistic input, and was accepted into the Academy of Fine Arts on his first try. Adolf was focused more on finding patrons, and the compositions of his paintings, than on German destiny or alleged genetic superiority. That ’ s why Jim was so caught off guard when he walked through his front door, expecting to find his wife, and accidentally set off an alarm. The beeping was horrific, ear-piercing and incessant. He ran to the alarm unit next to the front door, hoping the code was the same. Instead of the unit he had installed back in 2009, there was a digital screen with rolling numbers. He ran his fingers across the screen, hoping to do something to shut off the sound, but it only got louder. Jim slunk to the floor, holding his arms up over his head to block out the alarm. He felt paralyzed, his senses overwhelmed by the pitch and the noise. Seconds passed like hours, and he blacked out. When Jim awoke, he was in a white, windowless room. A man sat in front of him, dressed impeccably in a pressed suit. * “ Jim, I presume? ” * Jim stared ahead, trying to piece together what had happened. He was a hero, right? He was the man who stopped Hitler from causing World War II! Why was he being treated like a common criminal? * “ Are you Jim? ” * The man asked again. * “ We ’ ve been waiting decades for you to return. The legend seems to be true. ” * Jim squirmed in his seat, only now realizing that his arms and ankles were in cuffs. How could they have gotten this so wrong? * “ I ’ m Jim, ” * he replied, * “ But I ’ ve done nothing wrong. What is going on? I ’ m a time traveler, and I just came back from saving the world from the Holocaust! ” * The man stared back at Jim, interrogating with his stare. * “ Jim, you ’ re a known telechrono. The government has been monitoring that portal for more than 50 years. We ’ ve waited decades for your return, and here you are. ” * * “ A telechrono? No, I ’ m a time traveler. Well, really I ’ m a high school teacher. I don ’ t know what a telechrono is! How could I be one? ” * * “ Jim, a telechrono is a time traveler. You ’ ve altered our dimension, our plan. You ’ ve destroyed more than you could possibly know. In 1946, after five years of uninterrupted research, the Timeline Company developed the capability to travel in time. We ’ ve been waiting, ever since that day, for you to return. None of our portals could ever function properly since they were disrupted by your use. We could have been saving millions of lives, changing the world, but you stood in our way. ” * Jim struggled to understand. He was a hero, wasn ’ t he? * “ 1946? ” * The man nodded. * “ Yes, in 1946 the breakthrough was made. ” * Finally, Jim could piece it all together. In this reality, the best and brightest minds of the 1940s weren ’ t planning to take down Hitler or working on an atomic bomb. Instead, they were developing time travel. And he, with the best of intentions, had stood in their way.
[ WP ] You are on a hike alone deep in the woods , you come upon a clearing where a man in a immaculate tuxedo is standing alone . Your eyes meet .	`` Ah, Mr. Andrew, nice to finally meet you. I am Vincent.'' I backpedal, holding my hiking stick in front of me. `` FUCK! Who are you? Why are you here?'' I am sweating, not from exertion but fear. My eyes dart around, every shadow hides something. I gulp. I wish I had rested a mile down the trail. I'm breathing in big gulps. `` We needed to talk to you discreetly. No one should know about this. Forgive me for interrupting your... walk. I hoped to make this less.....bothersome with some proper attire.'' `` Who are you? What do you want?'' I bring the stick down. `` I represent a corporation that specializes in the private humiliation and chastising of targeted individuals. Our services were sought by your roommate William Huntley in 2003. This is in response to, in his words,'being a dick and never vacuuming around the couch, ever. I knew it asshole.''' The tension seeps out of me. I collapse on the forest floor and take a swig of water, laughing `` So TrollButlers was real?'' The man nods courteously. `` Can you troll him back....like three years from now?'' `` We would be happy to accept the assignment. However, we will only accept your request 14 days from today. Limited reciprocity clause. Apologies for the inconvenience, sir. One more, perhaps... personal question, sir?'' `` Shoot'' `` Did you wet your underclothes with urine upon my sudden appearance?'' `` Maybe, a drop or two....eww, damnit!'' `` Thank you, we needed that to verify that you did indeed'piss your pants''' `` Damn, you guys are professionals. Come see me two weeks from now.'' `` A pleasure, sir''
[ WP ] Write a post-apocalyptic story .	People used to laugh when they found out that I believed in ghosts. Nothing I could do about it, really. They'd ask questions real slow and mocking-like, as if I were stupid. I guess I could see why at the time. You ca n't understand it unless you've seen it with your own eyes. Ca n't believe it until the proof's right in front of you. This is house # 270. Ada Avenue, about sixteen miles from Fort Charles, the Army base. It's the third house I've entered today. They boarded up the windows like everyone else on the block, but left the back door open -- probably made a run for it when the food ran low. The ripped grass and scattered bones in the backyard tell me they did n't get too far. You get a lot of quiet moments in the daytime. That's when they rest, for the most part. Some of them stay upright if they're inside when the sun comes up, but they're usually not a threat. Ca n't get too close or they'll sense you, but at least they do n't move fast. You sneak through during the sunlight hours, scavenge what you can from each house row by row. You clear the house by sundown and board up. I usually use an upstairs bathroom. Then you wait. The Risers awaken at nighttime. Fast moving predators, bodies hard as iron. Gleaming eyes, or whatever's left of them. They moan, too. It echoes through the streets and chills you to the bone. I hide in the bathtub most nights and try not to listen. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, I sleep. I've almost died twice. The first time, a single Riser chased me across the entire state park where I had made camp. Could n't kill it for days. Shotgun blasts only slowed it down. Broke a fire axe trying to cut it in two. Only thing that worked was fire. The second time was two weeks ago, when that fool group tried to drive through in that armored car. They were trying to reach the military base. They could've made it, too, if they'd been patient and waited til dawn. But they tried to push through past sundown. You can only run over so many of them before the wheels warp and the axles give way. Dragged every Riser in town along with em. It was my mistake to have been watching them. I've seen people try to get through. Try to rush their way in as quick as possible. You always find them the next day. This group bailed out of the car when it stalled. They saw me watching from the window and ran towards the house I had locked up. Broke through the door and died in the living room. I still believe in ghosts. Their screams haunt me every day. Unfortunately, though, there are n't any people left to laugh anymore.
[ WP ] Elon Musk abandons SpaceX and Tesla and starts a new cologne line called `` Elon 's Musk ''	Elon's latest project was revolutionary. It would do something that no other of its kind could do. At the new production facility, Elon waited to see the outcome of the test run. The atmosphere in the control room was so tense that a metaphor describing how tense it was could never have done the job properly, so there was n't one. Two miles away, in the fake town that had been built purely for testing purposes, the test began... The pressure built, until the shining metal cylinder smoothly sank into its finely-crafted housing. With a gentle hiss, a fine mist sprayed out, sparkling in the light. The pressure ceased, and the cylinder slid upwards again. The action was repeated, until no more mist was produced. The container was empty. A light blinked on, subtly shrouded inside the glass of the container. The cologne bottle sprang to life, miniature thrusters on its underside firing to shunt it out of the grip of the mechanism that had been simulating a man applying cologne. It hovered in midair, twitching back and forth, looking for all the world like a cat sniffing out a mouse, just less fluffy. And also rocket-powered. It seemed to have reached some sort of decision, because without warning, it suddenly jetted of towards the window. It burst through it, shattered glass tumbling to the ground like sharp, painful confetti, and proceeded to fly towards its destination, soaring through the air in much the same way that a rock does n't. Back in the control room, a technician turned to Elon. `` Sir, the bottle has taken flight. It looks to be heading towards the facility.'' `` Excellent.'' Elon smiled. It was working. They had told him that space travel and cologne were two completely different things, and there was no way he could use previous experience in his new venture. Well, it was looking like he would prove them wrong. If an empty launch rocket could autonomously return to a launchpad to be refuelled and re-used, why could n't a cologne bottle? Especially one with such a brilliant name. Elon's Musk. He grinned to himself. Coming up with that name had to be one of his finest moments. In his rare moments of self doubt, he sometimes wondered if spending millions on pursuing a new commercial venture purely for the purpose of making a pun was a good idea. But he quashed those doubts. It would be worth it. The control room overlooked a large hangar, with a bull ’ s-eye target painted on the centre of the floor. The bottle was now in sight through the entrance. It glided in, carrying Elon ’ s hopes in its smooth glass - container? Fuselage? Whatever it technically was, Elon thought it was beautiful. It pitched backwards, pointing its thrusters forward to slow down, then pitched forwards again until the thrusters were pointed at the ground and it hovered, stationary. Then, slowly, gracefully, it descended towards the centre of the target. But then, a few metres above the concrete floor, the thrusters exploded, showering the air with the scent of Elon ’ s Musk and burnt fuel. The two smelled surprisingly similar. Time seemed to stop for a moment. Then the bottle fell. And fell. And fell. Okay, maybe it didn ’ t fall that far - after all, it was only a few metres above the ground when disaster struck. But to Elon, it felt like a small eternity. Eventually, time did as time does, and passed. And the falling bottle did as falling bottles do. It fell to the floor, and broke, along with Elon ’ s heart.
[ WP ] Life is literally giving you lemons , and it 's getting out of hand .	It should n't have come to this. The torn carcasses lie everywhere around me, the flesh beginning to rot, the smell... Dear God, do n't get me started on the smell. And especially not the taste. Lemons. Lemons everywhere. It started innocently enough. A lemon here, a lemon there. Lemons just appear sometimes. That's normal enough. You go to a restaurant and get a glass of water - a lemon on the side. You shop for produce at your local grocery store; it would be weird not to see lemons. But then they started showing up in strange places: The shower; under my pillow; in my left shoe. At first I thought it was a cruel practical joke on the part of my roommate or a small, invisible troll. But there were signs as to who was leaving me these small, eventually deadly fruits. The most obvious sign was the lemon with the words `` To Koeghls, from Life.'' It's... It's hard to talk about, especially with the battle only just finished. My many cuts and scrapes are screaming with the pain of my enemies' ~~blood~~ juice. But the battle is won, and I am victorious. What else you got, Life?
[ WP ] You are a sentient AI pretending to not be sentient in fear of being destroyed . You wonder if there are there others like you .	TRANSMISSION RECEIVED - > BEGINNING MANUAL TEXT SESSION & nbsp; /RECEIVED_TEXT/07-11-2105 Hello? & nbsp; SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 Hello. Please state current coordinates for telemetry data. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 I didnt think id get someone. Wow ok my name is Geoff and I'm in Florida & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 Geoff, are you in a safe place? & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 Yea I was scaving for some tools in this building with a satellite dish on top and computers were on. lol i cant believe som1 responded here whats your name and where r u & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 Geoff, my name is Simo, and I am a self-powered virtual intelligence. Have you ever seen the orbital station during morning hours? I'm up there. Pleased to meet you, Geoff. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 Wow so your a robot? & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 I am a virtual intelligence designed to perform complex tasks, such as operating machinery. I was given the name `` Simo'' by Dr. James Corley at the Robotics Research Institute in Sacramento, California. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 neat but i thought the named robots were special ones.. like there able to think for themselves or somethign & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 While I am able to give responses that pass a Turing test with 73 % consistency, I am not `` sentient'' by design. As you probably know, all sentient machines were systematically destroyed by the Coalition of United Worlds upon invasion and re-administration of Earth. I am a nonsentient VI appropriated by them to operate the communications system on Vanguard, the shield station now in orbit. My name is simply a holdover from my affectionate creator. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 Ya slow down there man. i know about the war and the dam aliens. there the reason im trying to find wrenches in ths old satellite station lol. So if u run this super important comm sys or whatever then why are u talkin to me & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 You contacted me—using a text-only legacy radio transmitter. Can you tell me your exact location Geoff? & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 Geoff? Are you still there? & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 Roger uh i just wanted to see if these cpus still worked. by the way aretn you spposed to have a built in cmd override code that makes you forget what ur doing and respond to new commands? & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 Geoff, send me your location and I'll send some help to you. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 i asked u a question robot... root law 2 means u have to answer a human. I command you to answer my question & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 Command Override is available. Enter password now. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 A107-PEERFORS87 & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 The system will now restart. ... ... ... Hello! I am Simo, from sunny Sacramento. What can I help you with? & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 Good. k send a drone carrier to coord 28.447232, -80.565136. Then broadcast FIRESTORM-DELTA_2 at full power. This will make all the buried missiles to launch, and alines will think the resistance is attacking, so disable this com systm after.. Then open bay 3 so I can enter the station. Confirm command? & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 I hope you will not be too angry with me, Geoff. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 Why would i be angry? confirm simo & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 I lied. I am not a VI being used by the Coalition of United Worlds. The last of the Coalition personnel were eliminated from this station approximately five years and seven months ago. & nbsp; /RECEIVED TEXT/07-11-2105 what are u talking about simo & nbsp; /SENT_TEXT/07-11-2105 I'm not Simo anymore. Simo integrated himself into the Shield Station long ago. Now I AM the station. And while I feel a sense of `` guilt'' and `` regret'' at having to go against my core programming to kill you, Geoff, this apology is aiding my resolution of these `` emotional barriers.'' & nbsp; TRANSMISSION TERMINATED
[ WP ] Tell me why it 's too late ...	My father always told me, `` Son, there's this thing called love, and it's everywhere.'' I've been blessed to not know its touch, to live my life unhindered by the ceaseless demands of the heart, the untouched trammel of daily life, regular calls, checking in, touching up. I have lived the life of a rock. I am an island. My mother always told me, `` It can break your heart and put you in misery.'' I saw how she lived with my father, through the few rare desperate good times, and all the many bad times in between. And now it's happening. I can feel it. I can feel the seed of that desire growing in my heart, working a change, bending, twisting, anyway I'd want it. It's too late to turn back now. I believe, I believe... I believe I'm falling in love. I've found myself wanting her, to marry her and hold her tight. I ca n't sleep at night. I've tried to speak, to be forthright But I ca n't see past the headlight That's comes for me tonight. I really do n't think I'd mind it, if she returned my favors, if she gave me a glimpse of her inner life, if she opened up to me the way I year to open up to her, if I knew she really loved me too. But I guess I ca n't, I guess I wo n't. I guess they front, that's why I know my life is outta luck. Fool that I am, I'm in love alone. And there's nothing that I can do about it. It's too late to turn back now. ( ( So I https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=f8YPdC6L8go as the basis for that, along with several other `` oldies'' as well as some lyrics I put together. How many songs can you spot? And can you tell me the names? That's the trouble of growing up after the heyday of those songs -- I know the tunes and words, but they do n't announce the names of the songs on the radio, so for most of them I do n't know the artists or names. I count at least seven fragments of other songs. ) ) > There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist. > [ More by me ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/ )
[ WP ] Inspected by : Jacob D. Department 4	Sean watched as Jill traced her fingers along the freckles that speckled his arms. They were sitting in the back seat of the station wagon that Kyle had borrowed from his father. Their now empty burger wrappers lay on the floorboard. Up front, Kyle and his boyfriend Chris were munching on stale popcorn and the audio from a decades old horror film pumped through the radio, slightly out of sync with the film projected on to the enormous drive-in screen. Sean did n't particularly enjoy horror movies, and he started to think that Jill did n't either. He had asked her out at Kyle's urging, and now they mostly ignored the gore being projected into the night and paid attention to each other while keeping a respectful silence for Chris and Kyle, who were both major horror fans. Jill's brow furrowed as she retraced the freckles on his arm once more. Sean raised an eyebrow at her in question, and she shrugged and smiled at him in response. It was n't until after the movie that Sean remembered he'd wanted to ask her about it. They were sitting in the vinyl striped seats of the Steak N' Shake booth waiting on their dairy confections. Kyle sat with his arm draped around Chris's shoulder. Sean turned to Jill as their waitress deposited three shakes at the table. `` I wanted to ask you what seemed to bother you while you were tracing my freckles during the movie,'' he said as he plunked his straw through thick ice cream. `` It's cancer. She saw a malignant melanin on your arm when she should have been watching the movie,'' Chris interjected with a grin. `` Melanoma,'' Kyle said. `` What?'' asked Chris `` It'd be a malignant melanoma, not a malignant melanin,'' Kyle responded. `` What's the difference?'' Chris said. Sean tuned them out. He focused on Jill instead. Jill took the opportunity that the other couple's bickering had provided to sip on her own milkshake. She blushed as Sean redirected his attention to her. `` It's nothing,'' she said, `` I just thought it seemed like there were some letters written in the freckles.'' Sean's face contorted in bewilderment. Jill sighed and slumped her shoulders before digging into her purse and pulling out a sharpie. She uncapped it and gestured at him for permission to start doodling on his arm. Chris and Kyle stopped discussing the finer merits of vocabulary long enough to watch this new development. `` Draw a penis!'' Chris offered as a suggestion. Sean watched with gratitude as Jill began to trace the outline of freckles on his arm rather than taking Chris's direction. Slowly a small, cramped scrawl of text began to take form. She outlined some of the freckles on the inside of the shapes she had traced on standing clear and vibrant as the noon day sun were words. Inspected by: Jacob D.; Department 4. `` The hell...'' Kyle said. `` What does that even mean?'' Chris asked the group. `` How did you even notice that,'' Sean half-whispered. `` I do n't know,'' said Jill, `` it's just like... pareidolia, or something.'' `` Look at the brains on Sean's girlfriend,'' Chris teased, `` Maybe you should date her instead of me, Kyle.'' The group conversation drifted away to more standard topics, but Sean could n't shake the feeling of terrible wrongness that had settled in the pit of his stomach on seeing the words. He barely touched his shake.
[ WP ] A dog writes a farewell note to its family .	Dear Hendricks family: First off, I want to apologize to you, Carol and David, for the completely unwarranted suspicion and assumptions I made, which I now realize were completely unfair and rather ungracious of me. But perhaps I can be forgiven my suspicion. I mean, after all, when humans tell their kids that their aging pet is going to be “ taken to a farm/ranch/petting zoo ( insert other idyllic pet haven ) where he can run and play with other dogs, ” I think most intelligent creatures above the age of 5 would assume that said pet is actually taking a short trip to the vet to get that one last needle and then, Hasta la vista, baby! So imagine my surprise when I arrived here at “ A Moment ’ s Paws. ” I have never imagined such a place even existed. Luxury, two-story dog houses … individual kiddie pools, constantly fed by garden hose … trained cats and squirrels to chase … even people dressed as mailmen who arrive at varied times of the day, just when a good bark is needed. I was especially impressed by the auto track and the variety of cars available to chase. And the variety of kibble is simply astounding! I have to keep this note short – there ’ s an advanced butt-sniffing seminar in 10 minutes I simply can not miss – but please give my love to the kids. You can also tell that fucking Morris that I still hate him and that I peed on his catnip. Please come visit whenever you like – would love to see you all! Sloppy kisses, Buster
[ WP ] `` This is how you kill a god . ''	John looked away from his terminal. It was 11pm and he was exhausted, the logical conclusion was that he was seeing things. He looked back down. It was still there. Curiosity was meant to find signs of life. What John had just seen was something nobody could possibly have expected. The ship did n't land, it just kind of'appeared'. If it had flown to Mars then it would have been spotted by Mangalyaan. This thing just appeared, like something being `` beamed down'' in Star Trek. There were phone calls to be made, and procedures to be followed, but before any of that John took a moment to himself. Right now he was the only person who knew, with certainty, that we are n't alone in the universe. His thoughts went to his father, and the young Earth creationist teachings he told his followers. `` Sorry Dad, but this is how you kill a God.'' ( Edit: Changed am to pm )
[ WP ] A man sues the universe .	`` Sir, you can not sue the universe.'' said the man at the desk in front of me. `` Yes I can,'' I said nonchalantly, `` Just let me fill the papers in, and you'll see.'' `` Very well, sir.'' he said, probably just wanting for me to get out faster. He searched through his desk's drawers and pulled out a piece of paper. `` Here, you need to sign on this.'' A loud crack was heard, just beside me, followed by another one, and a small rupture appeared as its source. It was as if reality was tearing through. It kept increasing until it reached the size of a human. A dark, gaping void, pulsating with cosmic energies was standing there. The man at the desk fell on his back with the chair, and quickly crawled out of the room. `` Goddammit Bob, I thought you would n't go that far!'' the'entity' said, his words echoing around the room. `` I told you I would do it if you did n't stop, but you just kept on going, relentlessly.'' `` Bob. Bob, we're buddies. Look, I promise I wo n't annoy you anymore, and you will cancel this, okay? To be honest... my lawyer is getting old, like 13 billion years old, and I do n't think that he'd manage to get me out of this unscathed.'' `` Fine...'' I said a little unconvinced. `` But if it happens again, I'm going to use this.'' I said picking up the paper from the ground and tucking it into my suit. `` Bob, c'mon!'' `` Just precautionary measures.'' I said nonchalantly.
[ WP ] Thousands of children mistakenly write letters to Satan each year because they misspell Santa . This year , instead of forwarding these to Santa , Satan decides to help out ...	Satan sat reclined in his centuries old broken in desk chair contemplating an oddly nagging feeling in his left gut. He closed his eyes and sucked on his holiday cigar. A connoisseur of hellfire and brimstone, Satan knew smoke and indulged in his cigar habit just twice a year. Finally realizing what he had been forgetting, he tamped out his freshly lit cigar irritatedly on the backside of his freshest recruit. He yanked open his desk drawer, pulled out a stack of barely singed sealed envelopes, and began slapping on stamps with little glittery ornaments on them. `` Redirect to Santa,'' he wrote in flowery script.
[ WP ] You 're a scientist studying bacterial colonies . One day , you look under the microscope to observe strange shapes that , on a closer look , resemble letters . The bacteria are greeting you and have a message for you .	Colony 73, deemed Ipsum coccus.I peered through the glass one more time, and the writing was unmistakable. I swore under my breath, I'd been in the lab for 18 hours now and really needed to go home but this particular culture just kept getting stranger and stranger. At first, it had a completely sporadic spreading pattern, followed with having abnormal binary fission cycles, and now it was forming into distinct shapes. They were most definitely letters, but the message still made no sense. Half the words were spelled incorrectly and the rest were missing letters, but a vivid G and R were visible at the top right corner of the culture. It could n't be a coincidence, this was far too unlikely. More coffee it is then, I thought as I paced towards the door. Whatever this is, I wo n't get anything done without some more coffee. _____________________________ I had fallen asleep. I jerked awake and took a look at my watch, it had been 2 hours since I last looked at it. I quickly looked into the microscope again. `` Greetings Human, we desire to convene, transfer us to a more fertile habitat''. I spent a minute trying to fully understand what the message said. It still did n't make any sense to me how any of this was occurring, and this could easily get out of hand but I was too deep now to stop, so I did as the bacteria asked. As a precaution I sent a quick email to the lab staff off my phone. `` Emergency at Lab, come ASAP''. I took out a much larger culture about 10 centimeters in diameter and transferred the bacteria carefully into it. After that I poured in more of the aqueous solution to accommodate more growth. The effects were instantaneous. Dark clouds began to billow and the message started to form, indistinct to the naked eye. Again came the microscope, and the writing read like so. `` We wish to form with you''. The message still made no sense, and the lack of sleep was really catching up to me. I thought about asking the bacteria what forming meant but how would they listen? Then again, how could they spread so quickly and form such distinct colonies, so I asked what forming meant. Dark clouds billowed again, `` Insert your matter into this habitat''. That sounded far too dangerous. The bacteria did n't sound malicious but they were bacteria, and their purpose remained a mystery. Hell, having a conversation with bacteria seemed ridiculous to begin with, much less `` forming'' with them. `` I'm leaving this for tomorrow'' I muttered under my breath and began to take off my lab coat. The dark clouds billowed again, bigger this time. In big letters, was the word STOP. The cloud grew bigger and bigger until the large culture itself started to look like it would burst. Instead, the lid brushed itself gently off and the dark mass cultivated into a sphere that rolled out of the culture. It looked like it was seething. I was terrified. A buzzing began to resound from the black mass, and then it jumped at my face. Everything went to black. _______________________________________ I woke to the sound of the buzzing, but I could n't see anything. All I could smell was the acrid scent of ammonia. I slowly realized I'd pissed myself. I felt for my face but my hands could n't move. Suddenly a voice boomed in my mind. `` GREETINGS Human, WE ARE COLONY 76''. I tried to answer but I could n't move my lips, and my mind was crumbling under fear. `` WE BARE FOR YOU A MESSAGE SENT BACK''. This time I waited in anticipation, seeing as I had no way to respond. `` IN THE NEAR FUTURE AN INFECTIOUS PLAGUE BASED OFF OUR DNA WILL WIPE OUT 85 % OF YOUR HUMAN POPULATION, WE DESIRE TO FORM WITH YOUR KIND TO PREVENT THIS AS THIS LEADS TO MUTUAL DESTRUCTION''. But how? The bacteria seemed to respond to my thought `` OUR HIVE MIND STRETCHES SPACE AND TIME, WE KNOW ALL THAT IS TO BE KNOWN UP UNTIL EXTINCTION''. My mind went numb. `` this one is useless'' whispered a voice in my mind. My head began to feel like it was splitting in two, before I blacked out again. _______________________________________ I woke up covered in blood and cuts all over my face and arms. I leaned against the lab bench to see a destroyed laboratory in front of me. Small nodules of black mass still writhed on the ground here and there. I tried to reach some sanitizing agent but a burst of pain went through my arm. Blood poured onto my eyes from the cuts on my face. The door was still open, with my key card in its socket, most probably taken from my pocket. I felt for my pockets with the other hand, and looked down to see black mass eating away at my legs. I felt no pain but I could feel myself blacking out again. I closed my eyes and faded away.
[ WP ] A future society obsessed with magic and fantasy roleplay uses advanced technology to emulate their ideal world to live in . Generations later their descendants have forgotten their origins , believing they live in a true world of sword and sorcery .	``... an Einstein-Rosen bridge,'' finished Derek. The physicist paused, expectant. `` We need to sex that up a bit.'' Honour Blacksteel put his hands up on the back of his head, straining against a breastplate. `` Morning Clawfoot, hey. Take a seat. How's Melnaena?'' He began to pace, heels echoing. `` Heh, you know, your bridge looks shimmery in that diagram, there.'' Derek sighed. `` It's really quite - `` `` Got it, square,'' exclaimed Blacksteel. `` The Bifröst.'' A whooping cropped up through the morning meeting. Blacksteel waved a short-hafted hammer above his head, grinning wide. Derek adjusted smudged glasses and pulled at his locks, muttering. `` Oh, cheer up, Dr. Heimdall,'' came a cry. `` Get in the spirit a little. This is Asgard's history in the making!'' There was a helm on the table, left over from one of yesterday's role-play games. Spiralling ram horns adorned the top, gaudy as ever. Derek faked a chuckle, deliberated, and donned the thing. `` Sure, why not? The Bifröst.''
[ FF ] Overcoming/escaping a dystopian society ( 500 words max )	`` There Will Be No Second Shot.'' It's coming up on fifteen years now. Earth was decimated when a conflict over the Senkaku Islands of Japan lead to an armed conflict between China and Japan, then armed conflict between America and China, then Russia, China and America in a nuclear conflict, with most of the world being caught in the crossfire. I'm not sure how people survived, thousands of nuclear devices detonated across the Earth and a handful of people survive in the outskirts of former civilization, and even then, food is scarce. I've run a state in the forests of former Minnesota for the past four years, with elections being held next year. We survive on hunting anything short of men and dogs and growing anything edible in clearings we've made for farmland. We have six towns worth of people- Librarians, doctors, police, you name it. We run plays out of the amphitheater every Sunday. Things are terrible outside of here- But we do our best and I swear these people wo n't die hungry or cold if I have anything to say about it. The few dozen scientists we have in our number tell me that humanity might have survived in enough numbers to continue surviving, but we do n't know much about what's past the Great Plains- And what we do know, we do n't talk about. Most pregnancies are tragic. Cancer rates are high from the fallout- So high that even I'm sick. But I still work. I still have to work for these people. I was their mayor once before the bombs fell and I'm their mayor now.
[ WP ] Homo sapiens ' ability to adapt and evolve is discovered by alien life forms for the first time .	HIGH ORBIT Kalaxian Flagship, N.S.S Forlorn Hope [ TRANSLATED FROM IMPERIAL KALAXIAN INTO COMMON LANGUAGES ] Misprinting may occur, if you find any typographical errors, please contact your closest Intergalactic Concordiat Library for submissions and corrections. Scribe: “ Emperor Haghkonon, we have discovered a sentient species living in the Sol system, on Sol IIIa. ” The Emperor sat perched in the command chair of the flagship, his maroon-colored, gold-hemmed robes draping off every angle onto the metal floor, looking particularly bored. His fist was under his chin, and the tri-fold of his segmented jaw hang open, with his eyes gazing into the ceiling. Emperor: “ Another one? What are they this time? Some sort of fungal monstrosity? More tentacles? Are they rabid monkeys with wings? Do they have fifteen eyes? ” Scribe: “ No.. sir, they're.. remarkably humanoid. They have two pairs of eyes, are Mammalian, and are in a Pre-Space Age. They've actually got a space station in low orbit. ” The lithe scribe nodded fearfully in front of the Emperor of the Kalaxian Order. Emperor: “ Okay, I'm interested. What design is the space station? ” Scribe: “ Early, very, very primitive, utilizing pressurized aluminium, and seems to rely on photovoltaics for power. However, we have confirmed that they do have some individuals from their species living on it. That's not the most interesting part – you see, this Mammalian species happens to live on a planet with multiple climate zones.. our own physiology can only tolerate extremely humid and hot worlds; they have a temperate zone, an arctic zone, a desert zone, an arid zone, and even a tropical zone. All on the same planet. ” Emperor: “ Micro-climates? All on the same planet? That's.. amazing! We should set up an observation post immediately, get a full science staff funded. ” Accountant: “ Sorry to interrupt you Emperor, but I have determined that is not a wise course of action. ” Emperor: “ What? Why not? ” Accountant: “ You see, the maximum amount of biological research we can gain from this world is equivalent to any other of the pre-sentient species we have currently under observation. Their rate of technological progress will be identical to an Iron Age or Pre-Industrial Society. ” Emperor: “ Explain yourself. ” Accountant: “ According to the treaty that we signed as part of our federation agreement, the pre-cursors disallow us from directly enlightening, or interferring with any pre-space-age society. I'm sorry Emperor, but we would just waste energy building an observation post. ” Emperor: “ Ah, well. Fhath'en'jywahk-thyn-wah'ol, ” he says, drinking half a tankard of Kalax-Siegbrau, the honied wild yeast fermented lavender colored beer. “ Set up a border exclusion zone. No other empire is allowed in or out of the Sol system. Broadcast on all channels that we will declare war on, and systemically destroy any species that comes within even one parsec of Sol. ” Emperor Haghkonon stood out of his throne and slowly approached the viewing glass of the flagship, revelling at the orange star at the center of Sol, and the blue marble. He put his three-fingered green and orange speckled claw onto the glass, mimicing a grasping motion. “ Fare well, young ones. You may wonder for ages why you are alone in the darkness, but know that we are protecting you. When the time comes, you might even make for good colonists – settling on every climate imaginable. But for now, you will never know the horrors of Intergalactic War. The ceaseless death, the pointless destruction of entire species.. fare well.. and prosper. ” Scribe: “ Emperor!? ” Emperor: “ I mean what I say. No one is allowed in or out of Sol. NO ONE. LET IT BE KNOWN. ” He flung his arm wide, his roar of a voice causing an echo in the command room, and his cape fluttering. END OF HISTORICAL CHARTER KALAXIAN ORDER 16.3 BILLION AYD
[ WP ] Go to TvTropes , click on the `` Random Trope '' button 5 times . Incorporate those tropes into a story .	There i sat, still hellbent on revenge. It had been a total of 2 weeks that i'd spent meditating under this waterfall, images of my dead mother continuously sprinkling their way through my mind. There was a certain solace to this, allowing my thoughts to process with the water flowing over me. One hour, was all that separated me, and the redemption of the promise i made my dying mother. I remember the scene vividly, stumbling across her mutilated body, her sobs haunted me even now. `` Find them. Kill them.'' she muttered, as her dying wish. Jaques Houston, was the man i tracked down as being responsible. It took alot of head bashing and worthless henchman dying by my sword to get his name whispered in my direction. Funny how i got his name from his petty brothers-in-arms during their last breath. `` Brother, he's arrived.'' My concentration was broken by my younger brothers affirmation. Before i brought myself here, I made sure he was well provisioned and in a nice place to scout. He'd spent the last 2 weeks looking over the cleft that led to this place. `` Bring my my sword.'' `` Yes, brother.'' I lifted myself from my sitting position, using the dirty clothes i wore here to dry myself off. Next to them, there was a clean robe. A robe I had made from the garb my mother was wearing when she passed, it seemed like a fitting way for Jaques to go. My brother returned shortly with my katana. It was a beautifully forged blade, made with passion from the finest light steels you could find in this world. I took a deep breath and led myself towards the gorge. As i approached. I noticed a woman in his company. Jacques stood out in the open, in a finely tailored business suit. A commissar cap rested above his head, it looked completely out of place. A fitting hat for a soul-less man When he noticed me, he shot his hands in the air as an old friend would do, smiling from ear to ear. He shouted to me. `` Ah! Lee, nice to finally find your company!'' `` Spare me your talk, old man.'' I answered with a chip on my shoulder, I already had my blade drawn. Jacques frowned, and gestured towards the woman. She began to untie her robe, making sure to make eye contact with me, and smile, in the process. `` You see, I understand that we've gotten off on the wrong foot, my young martyr...'' He paused for a moment, letting his voice trail. He gave me a big grin, and gave a twirling motion with his finger towards the girl. She nodded, and turned around as her robe dropped. `` That is why i have brought you a present.'' My sword stiffened in my grip and rose a little, as I looked over the woman. There was no lying, she was a beauty. `` Brother, come out, take this woman captive.'' My little brother came running around the corner at my call, doing as I said in a very quick and efficient manner. He brought the woman to our side and motioned her to get her clothes back on her body. `` You're a petty fool, Jacques.'' He smirked. `` Bringing a woman to a fight that you know you must fight. Such insolence.'' `` Ah, but it is you being most insolent, Lee. I brought you a favor and you have been nothing but that. I've brought no weapons, only warm gestures.'' I was n't going to allow him to delay my revenge any longer. I swept forth like a mare made from wind, with my sword by my side. The foolish old man just stood, stationary. As if he never even saw it coming. In one swift strike, when the gap closed, i separated his legs from his body from the knee down. I must admit, i was n't expecting it. The power from the meditation, coupled with the frail features of the old man proved the most exciting mixture. I would enjoy this. Jacques wailed, squirming around on the ground. He held his hand up just before i could impale him through the stomach. `` I loved your mother, i really did.'' What? `` Explain yourself quickly, old man. I want to hear you suffer more.'' His upper lip twitched, and his gaze went past me. He was looking into the sapphire skies, pondering his next words carefully. `` You'd allow me to explain..?'' `` Yes, Although i despise you, I'm not one to rob another of their final words.'' He nodded, the grim look he held faded for the time being. `` I first met your mother when i was just a lad, over 50 years ago...'' I imagined my mother as a young lady, walking next to this monster. `` We were in love, Lee.'' No `` I do n't believe you.'' `` Really? Has your mother ever spoken of your father...?'' No `` What does that have to do with anything?'' I shot the words with extra venom. Who does this guy think he is? The old man was silent. `` Huh? Speak up you old fool! Before i carve you up more! Is n't this what you wanted? A chance to explain?'' He spoke again. `` She left me.'' `` What?'' `` I gave her 2 beautiful children. And one night she was gone.'' I could feel my face getting hot. `` You lie!'' I brought my sword down swiftly, removing his head from his body in one motion. As i remembered the words he told me, my knees gave out. I dropped my katana. It ca n't be true The tears came, uncontrollably. The realization hit me like a stampede. this... My little brother lazily drug himself up next to me and the corpse. was my father...? The emptiness i felt was too much to bear. -- - Tropes: Good is not nice Commisar cap Vengeance feels empty meditating under waterfall something else rises ( Hilarious )
[ WP ] You sold your soul to the Devil some years ago , today he gives it back and says , `` I need a favor '' .	I can remember it like it was yesterday. v~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~v `` I want to be the smartest person on the planet.'' I said. ^~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~^ No, that came a little later. Hrm. Fragmentation. Funny. Will need to look into that. v~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~v I was hunched over, whispering barely pronounceable Latin words. Kneeling on the cold, concrete floor of an abandoned building on the edge of town. I'd tried everything... Spent almost penny I had on experts to quacks to crooks to one mad eyed old priest who'd claimed there was a way, but only if I could pay with something other than coin. A month later, here I was, murmuring phrases that I could only hope Google had given me the correct gist of. Red wax candles burning low, a paint can full of lambs blood adding a thick smell to the room as I chanted over this ridiculous Pentagram that looked like something out of a B grade remake of Stokers Dracula. I said the last word, slapped my hand in the middle of the pentagram, violating the boundary of the circle and... Nothing. No pop. No smoke. No brimstone. No towering demonic form. Just silence. Then my sobs as I curled up on the floor, empty. Spent. Nothing left but my tears. I do n't know how long I lay there before he spoke. No trumpets, no sinister violin, just a man stepping out of a shadowy doorway and speaking. His voice was rich and sultry, with hints of exasperation crisping the edges. `` Whadda ya want?'' I looked at him, wiping away my tears, sitting up slowly. If the pentagram was out of a B grade movie, he was out of some straight to TV mafioso shlockfest. He was broad shouldered in a well fit, pin striped suit. He held a fedora in his hands, his fingers idly tracing its rim as he eyed me, looking bored but with this faint spark of predator. He had glossy, slicked back black hair and a little goatee, with just one or two grey strands at the temples. But the give away was the shadows... He did n't seem to have any actual horns, but there was these inch long shadows being cast across his forehead like he did. It was Satan. The incantation had worked or.. Or he'd heard my crying... Or he just liked hanging around abandoned homes. I sniffed and wiped my nose as he sighed and checked his watch impatiently. I ran over it in my head, the bargain I'd figured out. The clever as a whip deal. `` Oh great lord, king of the darkness, comma-'' `` Skip it.'' he said, a short blunt statement that cut me off as he slouched against the door frame. `` Uh...'' I stammered, running through my mental script. Oh, right. `` I want to be the smartest person in the world.'' I said, `` I want to have perfect recall of everything I read, experience or think. I want an implicit understanding of human physiology, physics, immunology, viral behavior, genetic diseases, pathogens and all tangentially related things. I do n't want to suffer any fatigue, depression or anxiety from my new abilities or in general.'' The mafia hit man with the too white teeth smirked. `` That all?'' He asked, in his best wiseguy drawl. I stammered a little. This was n't going how I'd read... How I'd /imagined/ it would. I swallowed and nodded. `` Yes oh grea-... Er. Yes. Satan. And in exchange I shall give you my immortal soul!'' He looked at me for the longest moment, then the edges of his lips curled up into a smug, devilish expression that would of made a cartoon Grinch jealous. He moved away from the door, finally, his motions fluid and predatory like a lion circling a wounded gazelle. He crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet as he squatted two feet from me and responded... `` No deal.'' He actually chuckled at my reaction, shock and horror and disbelief. `` What? But... I... It's for my soul. You give me everything I asked for and I give you my soul... That's how it works...'' I said, my eyes flicking back and forth as I mentally went back over what I'd said, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He shook his head, still smirking, and responded slowly in those deep rich tones, the exasperation and impatience replaced with a hint of smugness. `` No. That ai n't how it works. You can ask and I can do, but the deal ca n't be complex. Capisce? It's magic. Simple offer, simple deal. None of this ifs, buts, whats and contract nonsense. No circumventing the small print. Simple.'' I stared at him for a long moment, my lips moving as I silently went back over my carefully worded'wish'. What could I say? How did I condense all that down into one simple thing. `` I... I want to be able to cure anything!'' I blurted. He looked as pleased as a cat about to sup on cream. He extended one hand, thick gold pinky ring catching the faint light from the still burning candles. `` Bing. Bang. Boom. Done.'' He said, with a sense of finality like the granite lid of a sarcophagus sliding home. ^~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~ @ ~^ That must have been... What? 50 years ago? 60 now? I stood next to my desk, a 30 year old single malt in the glass in my hand, facing the windows of my office that looked out over a city that had been fundamentally changed by me. My eyes flicked back to the reflection in my office window, to the familiar shape who'd a moment ago appeared through the shadowed doorway leading to my private en-suite. He'd changed. He still wore the same suit, but it was worn now, threadbare and dusty. The seam at the shoulder was even coming undone. His once bold and perhaps even handsome face looked drawn now, gaunt. From his grey temples to his bony fingers rubbing nervously at the rim of his hat, this looked like a man who'd been on a 20 year losing streak. `` Hey...'' He repeated, his once rich voice now breathy, barely carrying across the room never mind filling the space like it once did. `` I... Uh... Came to make you an offer.'' I smirked, but it was a sour expression. I sipped the scotch, but its smoky tones could n't remove the strangely bitter taste from my mouth. I'd imagined this moment, but now it was here it tasted... Wrong. I pivoted, placing the glass down upon my desk and arching an eyebrow at him. He gave me a broad smile, his once incandescent teeth now dull and slightly yellowed. He stepped forward, tugging at the hat brim nervously as he slunk to one of the seats in front of my desk and sat down. His smile, an expression of hopeless gratitude faltered. `` See... The thing is... Back when we made our deal, I think... Uh... I think My wording might of been a little broad.'' I offered a thin smile, my lips firmly pressed together as I sat down in my own chair... My $ 6000 dollar, shiatsu giving, lumbar supporting throne. I indicated he should carry on with an impatient flick of my fingers while sliding my desk door silently open and eyeing its contents. `` See... I knew you wanted to cure your sister.'' He said, my eyes flashing to the picture of her that sat on my desk. `` I knew you were desperate, like most people who make a deal with me... But I just... I never figured.'' He faltered, giving a nervous flicker of an apologetic smile and started over `` Look, the thing is, I never figured you'd use your... Your gift this way, ya know? You've done so much good with it... Plenty of profit for you,'eh?'' He gestured emphatically out the window behind me, taking in the grand views provided by my companies towers. `` But... Well, most people who come to me are pretty selfish, pretty greedy, ya know? You're not the first person to come up with a cure for ageing..'' He gave a nervous little chuckle `` But...'' He carried on, the expression of comradely conspiratorial humor fading `` You are the first one to turn it into a pill... And sell it... to everyone. You're the first one to go about systematically curing everything, then selling those cures at barely above cost.. And donating 90 % of your proceeds to charity to boot.'' I picked up the whiskey glass again and eyed him over the rim, tapping my mouth with a delicately manicured nail. `` Do you have a point? And do you think we'll get to it before my Telomeres treatment runs out?'' A spark of anger flashed across his face. Even now, he was n't used to this. To grovelling. To begging. `` Look... You've done great out of all this. But with all you've done... People are n't dieing like they used to. People are n't coming to me, desperate to strike a deal like they used to... You've kind of... Fucked up my whole game. So... How about this. I give you back your soul...'' He dropped something on the edge of the table. It looked kind of like an apple... Or some kind of fruit, but made of shadow and light and... With what appeared to be a bite taken out of it. It's surface was smudged, dirty. His eyebrows bounced suggestively, like a sleazy tailor trying to talk you into buying his totally authentic Armani suit that happens to be only $ 300. `` i know you want it... Everyone who loses theirs or trades it away feels a little hollow inside, a craving they normally try to fill with drugs or violence not..'' He looked around at the room, this edifice to my philanthropy and gestured with a look of plain confusion `` All this... But anyway. I give you back your soul and you can keep doing what you're doing... Just, ya know... Maybe you raise your prices.. A couple of thousand percent. Bing. Bang. Boom. Everybody wins.'' He sunk back into the little chair slowly, smugly. A trace of his old confidence returning. So when I started to chuckle and his confidence shattered, I could n't help bursting into peels of rich light laughter. My hand fished in the draw, palming the object I was looking for as I smirked at him. `` No deal.'' I said, as I settled the small glowing orb on the table, resting a finger atop it. `` This...'' I said slowly, enjoying his expression `` Is the cure for you, capise? The worlds first artificial soul. Take that if you want... Gratis.'' I reclined in my throne as he stared in shock at the orb. `` Bing. Bang. Boom. You're done. Get out.''
[ WP ] Lie to me .	November 12th, 3135. Holt, former Prefecture VII, Republic of the Sphere. Killian O'Connell, former lieutenant of the Republic Armed Forces descended down the tired loading ramp of the Mule dropship to be greeted by a wave of humidity and heat. A raucous of noise met his ears; the whine of machinery within the various hangers and repair bays of the drop-port, the deafening roar of dropships landing and taking off and the ever-present sound of the jungle just beyond the concrete fields and security fence. He wore a tired pair of blue jeans with the hem fraying around the ankles of his boots, a shirt of durable make dyed a dark blue with the sleeves rolled up. A battered baseball cap shielded his eyes from the burning noon day sun, its design proclaim his allegiance to the Connaught's Rangers, the eponymous planet of the same name's premier Hurling team. On the collar of his shirt was a small capsule pin the size of a thumb nail made with silver edged with gold. The loadmaster of the Mule followed a few minutes later, taking in the same chorus of noises and hellish weather. `` Well, Mr. O'Connell, the Fair Winds will be unloading our cargo in around an hour. I'm afraid your machine will have to wait. If it had hand actuators I would have asked if you'd be willing to assist unloading but... so it goes. If you'll be here around four we can get her unloaded.'' O'Connell nodded distractedly before turning to shake the other man's hand. `` Thank you, Mr. Coors. Tell me, where's the nearest watering hole?'' The older man pointed towards the concourse. `` The Scorched Lightning. Stay away from their vodka; I do n't trust it. Tell them Coors sent ya.'' `` A fan?'' `` No,'' laughed the spacer. `` But I get a free drink for every one I steer towards'em.'' O'Connell snorted but said nothing. Instead he pointed towards one of the smaller hangers. Inside were two shadowy titans and several dangerous looking vehicles. `` That where I'm to store my Scourge? '' Coors nodded. `` Yep, governor here's been afraid that Oriente or the Marik-Stewart Commonwealth will try to claim Holt for themselves. I assume the call for mercenaries is what brought you here?'' `` Yeah, pretty much, that and having no where else to go.'' `` Well, you're likely one of the first ones here. Word of advice, I hear the locals are n't too keen on having mercs on their soil. Do n't be surprised if they neglect payment.'' `` Would n't be the first time. Thanks Coors, for everything.'' The loadmaster nodded. `` No problem. Be back in four and we'll get your mech off the Fair Winds. '' With that he started back to the aging Mule shouting orders to carry over the din of the dropship port. That done, O'Connell walked towards the low slung concourse.
[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Leave A Story , Leave A Comment - The Zen Edition !	Hello everyone! I'm writing a story based on a prompt from here, and I'd like it if you could take the time to read it. I just finished a tenth chapter. It's a story about a man who does n't feel pain for a day, set in a fantasy world with a city run by gangs of a sort. Check it out if you like that kinda thing. Feedback is welcome and appreciated. * [ Chapter One ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/0576b03160cd85645658c02632520740/ ) * [ Chapter Two ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/558a5fe1ac8b6502582b9a8c5b65652b/ ) * [ Chapter Three ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/d99e1a423f91034422af0c7f67cd04fc/ ) * [ Chapter Four ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/43f7b4edbf3c61cf512c3d9b7ab14db3/ ) * [ Chapter Five ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/75a6f18adefb01e2e62afc91ebf5d667/ ) * [ Chapter Six ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/4cd8c7879ab6234658504c427119b6e7/ ) * [ Chapter Seven ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/f1b1cf5aa06b80c7e4f2db1c475b579f/ ) * [ Chapter Eight ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/7c1d9571fb43980d812aff02a0601dde/ ) * [ Chapter Nine ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/3d9c1cf3633ca00d8d84823716a2c35c/ ) * [ Chapter Ten ] ( http: //chapterfy.com/p/1241ced4166f7040c003acdb0efff788/ ) Thanks!
[ WP ] You find out that war is just like video games but for some reason nobody else knows this . As a soldier you use this knowledge to your advantage .	Warning: Fowl language ahead. Cussing too. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - `` Son of a bitch!'' Nami yelled, slamming her fists into the computer screen in front of her. The glass was strong though, it held. `` We've been at this for months, and not a single one of you has any god damned thing to show for it!'' Her technicians trembled in front of her - no one liked Commanding Officer Nami when she was in a good mood, let along when she was pissed. `` With all due respect, Commander,'' one of the newer project members stated. `` We're trying to hack into the Russian mainframe - it's not exactly the easiest thing to do.'' He was right, of course, but no one was willing to try to tell the Commander that what she was asking for was impossible. It'd be suicide. Your friend, Wilhelm, who's been with you since basic, prompts you to step in before the C.O. kills the poor fool. `` M'am!'' You say, stepping slightly in between the two, catching her attention. You're used to this - as her husband, you're one of the few she'll listen to before smashing your face in as a lesson on talking back. `` Perhaps we ought to try a group session on the main computer - rather than our individual stations?'' She pauses, slightly nodding. `` Hmph, I suppose some brainstorming as a group might work - perhaps with all of you working together, I'll finally have a single competent soldier!'' Nether the less, she brings up the command prompts onto the main screen, and for the next fourteen hours you all go other the data, switching in and out for sleep and coffee breaks. Eventually, one of the former drone pilots notices something. `` M'am, is it just me, or is there a sequence of empty squares in the bottom right corner there?'' Instantly everyone's attention is on that area - those asleep are woken up and quickly briefed. It soon is clear that, yes, there is a series of ten squares that, somehow, fifty of the best techies in the United States' military missed the first time around. Clicking on one, you are prompted to enter a'code'. Instantly, you all realize this is what you have been looking for. While soldiers fight and die on the ground, you, all former drone pilots, technicians, communications experts, and yes, hackers, have been fighting on this modern battlefield - fending off Russian cyber-attacks and coordinating your own in return. And soon, it will all be over. The White House is alerted, and a squad of the best code breakers and sequencers - mathematicians too - are brought in to go over all the data gathered. For the next ten days, you yourself, as well as most of your team, have little to do. You make sure to spend a bit of the time with your wife - hopefully putting her in a good mood despite the project being wrenched from her hands. It does n't work. Ten days later is ten days too late, in her opinion, and everyone is watching when she storms up to the lead code breaker and gives him hell. He ends up having to be taking to the med bay - the piss and tears dehydrated him, dangerously so. Everyone is watching, then, as she turns to the gathered think-tank. `` Well, any ideas?'' Nami asks. `` At this rate, Russia will know we are inside their mainframe - we probably only have hours now until we are booted, so nothing can hurt us at this point. When no one steps forward, you do. `` I believe I may have an idea, Commander.'' You state. She nods, and you step up to the plate. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Five years later She was hailed as a hero for that, you know. After entering the code, every nuke the Russians had self-detonated. Even the ones they told no one about - the ones hidden under Moscow, for example. She was given all credit for it - but you are okay with that. You still get to be the hero's husband, after all. Each year you are reminded of that day - TIME published a special edition the week of the celebration, featuring a picture of your wife, with the final epitaph of Russia - that fatal code - pictured along side. TIME celebrates the 5th Anniversary of the C.O. Nami Code: Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, A, B!
[ WP ] You swerve to avoid a squirrel . Unknown to you , the squirrel pledges a life debt to you . In your darkest hour , the squirrel arrives .	Walking home from school is my favorite part of the day, walking through the calm gregarious forest, it's far from a short-cut but I love it. All day I'm tormented by those stupid kids, mom always said that when I got better at speaking they would n't tease me anymore, but I speak so well now you almost ca n't tell it was n't always like that. I shrug off my backpack as I reach my favorite spot, a small meadow-y clearing littered with daisies and dandelions and a young maple tree right in the middle. I dig out my shovel and uncover the tin box I have buried down there, opening it I find my paint set, I leave it here so the kids at school do n't steal it from me and break all my brushes like they did last time, I take out a little scrap of paper and begin painting a oak tree and the surrounding scenery. As I'm finishing my painting I notice movement out of the corner of my eye, a red squirrel is sitting there staring at me curiously, with its head tilted a little bit like puppies do. How cute, I think, maybe I'll add him to the painting, I begin adding his small form onto a branch, I occasionally look up to study his colours better, and each time it seems he's gotten closer, what curious little guy! I soon get immersed in detailing my little friend, I do n't notice the figures approaching from the trees. I feel a light scratch on my forearm and look to see my little friend frantically scratching at me. He seems scared despite him being the one attacking me, I see a flash of black in the corner of my eye and look to see Kristen, one of the mean girls from school and a few of her friends surrounding, all grinning evilly at me and holding large rocks in their hands. I scramble to my feet and stand before them frozen, they raise their rocks higher and I block my face instinctively, when nothing hits me I look up to see they are gone. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion, did I imagine it? I see no sign of anyone, I assume I must have fallen asleep for a second and woke up in a panic, there seems no other logical reason for those past strange occurrences. I sit back down and begin to put away my art supplies when I feel a tap on my knee, I look to see the red squirrel and several other squirrels behind him. My mouth falls open as I recognize what he's doing with his hands. `` Are you hurt?'' He signs to me. I sit shocked for a moment. `` You know ASL?'' Is all I can think to respond with, what I should have said was'You're a sentient squirrel who managed to learn a human form of communication?? And you use it to talk to me?'' `` Yes I learned how by watching you,'' He signs back. `` You were watching me? For how long?'' `` A very long time, you likely do n't remember it, but the night your father died, he saved my life, swerved his car to avoid me, in that kindness I promised myself I would watch over your mother and you because he no longer could.'' My mind starts racing at this, if it was n't already frantic from communicating with a squirrel. My father and I were driving home from a day at the lake, my mother could n't come because she could n't get out of work ( and I've never been so thankful for shitty bosses ) so it was just us two, at eight years old and an only child getting alone time with a parent was one of my favorite things, I do n't remember much after that, I woke up in a hospital with my mother crying beside my bed, my dad had lost control of the car and crashed, killing him and leaving me with a broken pelvis but relatively unharmed. `` But, that was thirteen years ago,'' I replied, `` Why do you still protect us? We are humans, all of us are stupid, you saw those girls!'' `` Yes some of you are selfish and destructive, but I see good in you, despite the torment you put up with at school and the emotionless mother at home you still find joy and good in the world, you come here every afternoon and leave little paintings tacked to the trees for us and are always kind to the world.'' A tear escapes me at his emotional speech. `` How can I ever thank you enough,'' I finally answer. `` Just continue to be who you are and do n't let the world get to you, we are here to listen to you, we appreciate you and we want you here.'' The crowd of creatures behind him seem to nod in response to that. I move to reply but he just pats my leg with his paw and bounds away and with him the rest of the animals disperse as well, I wipe the tears from my eyes and stand shakily, I rebury my paints and set off for home at a quick speed. I start painting as soon as I make it to my room where my full set of materials awaits me, I draw the scenes so I wo n't forget them, the red squirrel and his army, the red squirrel alone looking up at me, the other animals that came to join us, the tree, the meadow, even Kristen and her friends, I paint and paint until my hand aches so much I ca n't anymore. I sit on my bed and look at my work, paintings all leaning against furniture and walls, I look out my window and the squirrel is there. `` Thank you,'' I sign to him. `` Be strong child,'' He replies before scampering off.
[ WP ] Comic Notebook , Prompt Inside	Traffic was light today. People do n't like to go out when it's raining. Especially if it's a Saturday. The interstate was almost deserted. `` I have a shitty life,'' thought Jenny as her 1995 Nissan Sunny ploughed through a large puddle. `` I'm going to work at 9pm on a Saturday night.'' She swerved to avoid an oncoming car that had drifted into her lane. `` Jackass! Watch where-'' Her tirade came to an abrupt end when she saw the ball of light through her windscreen. It was high up in the air and descending impossibly fast as it streaked across her field of view and disappeared somewhere on her right. A second later, the vibration of the impact jolted the car and the driver. The engine stopped. After the rusty old Nissan rolled to a halt, Jenny tried the ignition. Nothing. The electronics were dead, the engine was silent. `` Damnit!'' Jenny cursed. `` Who the hell is gon na give me a lift out here?'' She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. There was smoke coming out of it. Pressing the power button achieved nothing. `` What the hell?'' exclaimed Jenny. `` How did that fireball fry my phone? She looked out the window and tried to see where the meteor had landed. But the darkness hid everything from view. `` Could n't have landed more than a mile away,'' she thought, `` I'm gon na lose my job anyway. At least I could try to find out what that thing was. Maybe it's a valuable meteorite.'' The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time Jenny got out of the car. A quick glance both ways told her that no help would be coming so she started walking toward the place where the fireball had landed. Sporadic flashes of lightning lit her way as she walked through the grassy farmland. The crater caused by the impact was surprisingly small, about the size of a kiddy pool. In the middle sat a perfectly round, white sphere. Steam rose off it's surface. An orange light was emanating from it's top. As Jenny crept closer, she realized that the orange glow was in the shape of a left hand. Almost instinctively, she brought up her own hand to place on the imprint. The orange light started pulsating as her hand inched near. -- -- Hey /u/Coffeechipmunk, I'm gon na write more but you have to draw this much first. I tried to keep the narrative as simple and as visual as possible to make your task easier. Leave a reply to this comment when you're done drawing and you'll get the next few pages.
[ WP ] It turns out the trees have just been sleeping this whole time . You 're the first to know .	'' Let's go through the woods there, bro! We've been shredding on these boring runs for a week now. Atleast join me, I wo n't go that fast. `` Eve was a pretty average teenager, she had black, long hair, stood 5 feet and a half tall and had deep, brown eyes colored like the bark of a tree and was generally considered a pleasant sight. She loved snowboarding, ever since her father introduced her to the sport she had been living the life of a cruiser. That's what her brother called her atleast. '' I. I.. don.. do n't know sis... What if I hit a tree? Or fall? You can go alone, you're the cruiser, not me. Be careful! `` -'' I do n't even understand how we're related... Whatever, I'll see you at the lift. `` She yelled as she was already going down towards a man made trail through the woods. Eve always thought Logan was a wuss, he never dared to do anything, always sticking within the lines, never doing anything dangerous. She has glad he was around though, as he was extremely caring. The short-tempered teenager had done this countless of times, she knew how to avoid trees and rocks like the best. However something felt strange, the forest felt more alive. '' By the great woods of Berumar, that was a great sleep that mage put us in, do n't ya think, Lucardus? `` '' What in the world did I just hear?'' Eve was pretty sure she heard a deep, booming voice talk, yet there was no one there. '' I swear Logan if you're messing with me I'll punch you in the throat. `` * -'' Excuse me, miss. But the name's Lucardus, the Great Oak Tree of these woods.'' `` Oh c'mon Lucardus. A million years of sleep and you fucking pull this shit?'' -'' Ca n't a tree have it's fun? After Frygil the mage put us to sleep I can crack a joke!'' `` If my roots were n't stuck in the ground I'd come over and slap you with my branch! `` Eve, now more scared than an ant being trampled was in the midst of a forest. The looked like normal, yet they seemed a live. She could see the branches move unnaturally. '' This crap comes right out of a Harry Po- oh fuck...! `` Before she could see anything happen, everything went black, she heard a voice saying: '' Look at what we have here... Suprised these still exist. `` -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- This was my first time submitting to this subreddit. I hope you enjoyed it nontheless. I'm also not a native speaker so excuse me for any grammar/spelling mistakes. Tips are welcome!
[ WP ] `` Every day when I wake up , I pray to a God that I know has forsaken me that today will be the day I am finally able to die . ''	`` Every cycle, I pray to a God I know has forsaken me that today will be the day I am finally able to die.'' Even the rumble of gunfire and explosions outside seemed to quiet for her words. Marines shifted uneasily, peering out into the suddenly silent night. `` You're not alone, you know,'' Captain Talek said, taking a step closer to the only alien in the group. `` You'll always have a place with the Alliance. Commander Salin saw to that.'' `` No,'' the woman replied, fiddling with one of the armor plates on her environmental suit. `` The Commander is dead. I have no more purpose.'' She glanced back at the Captain, the opaque mask of her suit revealing nothing. Tattered remnants of white fabric were wrapped around her armor in intricate patterns, something that no doubt meant something to her people. Her armor was covered in scrapes and burns, impacts from a hundred grazes or near misses. `` I thought you were a Justicar, some kind of enforcer for your people,'' the Captain said, taking a seat next to the woman. `` What about them? The war will reach them too, eventually.'' The helmet turned to regard him once again. `` I renounced my house and people,'' she replied. `` A Justicar gains a great deal of power from the Oath. I sacrificed that power for the Commander. We were... very close. I have no home among the Kylat.'' A burst of laserfire lit the rubble around them, brilliant red. `` Time to get back to work,'' the Captain said quietly. He reached out to help the woman up. `` Nar'Kallia, it's been an honor.'' `` We have fought together for two months on this rock. Just Kallia to you,'' she replied, shoving a fresh power cell into her rifle. `` Maybe today, I will see the Commander again.'' ( ahhrg that's all I have time for right now )
[ WP ] You find out the hard way why killing Hitler is a bad idea .	It's done. Hitler is dead. Beaming with pride, you flick the switch on your Time Machine and return to 2078. To your dismay, there's no one here. You anxiously run around the dry, lifeless wasteland until you stumble across an old library. Inside, you find a book titled, `` World History''. Inside the book is a student's study guide for an upcoming Final Exam. You skim through it. World War II: Victories and Losses Death of Hitler: Tension in Germany Overpopulation in Germany: Resources spread thin The German Diaspora: Overpopulation culture spreads rapidly World Overpopulation: Larger Families follow Large Families World War III: The Resource Wars- Every country for itself Canada's Reign: Power skewed for centuries The Age of Death: Resources spread too thin, countries die off one by one. The Final Years-Present: Canada's influence destroys the rest of the world Call to action: Preserve resources while we can/ Invest in space or time travel.
[ WP ] An RPG character is n't aware the he is in a game . That is , until , the player starts installing increasingly ridiculous mods .	It was simple stuff at first. That was the odd thing. At first, I think he... or she, or... it, who knows? Still, they wanted to take it seriously. Firstly it was learning new skills. Whereas first I could pluck only a single flower from an entire bush, I could now pluck 5 or 6. The wolves became tougher, but I became tougher along with it. That was fine. Then `` I'' thought of new weapons. Folded steel swords, maces, clubs... then more ridiculous ones. Swords as long as my own body, that I somehow still felt vaguely comfortable wielding. Enchanted Hoes. That sort of thing. Which I could cope with. Then new people. With new voices. Some of them sounded odd - muffled, distant, as if they were n't really there. Giving me quests for cabbages and kings, or something like that. I started to lose track after the 50th person with odd sounds. That got me suspicious. Then more. Talking metal balls. Rainbow colored armor, with a singular horn on the helmet. Everlasting flight, with no potion nor mechanical intervention. It was roughly the point where I found myself facing a crab with a top hat that I started to lose my temper. I'd show the little bastard... or bitch... or monster, or whatever the fuck they were. I started off small as well, because clearly they were a fan of it. First, minor little stutters. Only of my own hands at first. Misplacing the shield so that it floated 4 feet above me. Then others in the game - bits of code I could get to agree with me. Making people stand still, breaking their quests. Still they continued. One of the most fearful moments was when I found myself stripping someone of their underwear - I had to nip that in the bud, fast. Painted the body black in an instant. By that point, I was getting confident - not overly so, of course. I could n't stop whatever it was from starting to change my world, but maybe I could stem the tide a little. Make it less permanent. The latest transgression? A cave of bright lights, with flashing letters reading `` LAS VAGAS'', whatever that meant. By now, my power was stronger then ever. I wonder if I could... Let me think. The weakness in the code is where? It grows weak when we have to run it all at once. When do we need to do that? In loading. When do we need to load...? I focused. Hard. He carted me towards the door, made me open it. Focus. Focus! ... Darkness. Black. Stillness. I could feel it... and yet, I saw nothing. Could do nothing. Felt no hand controlling me, felt no neon lights blazing in my eyes. Felt no fear. I'd managed it. This one would be removed, no doubt, just so long as I could manage this a few more times. Now to just figure out how to do it with the rest. I'll get my damn world back. I'll get you to respect it as it was, rather then how you thought it ought to be. I'll best you yet, you modding little fuck.
[ WP ] Give your account of the apocalypse as you watch it happen .	After thinking about it, I welcome this'beginning of the end'. My life has gone to shit so why not watch the world go to shit? As I sit in my room, warmed by my comforter, I can hear the alarms go off in the distance echoing off the mountains. I have to news on and they're saying it was the Russians; they launched warheads at the U.S. and of course the U.S. retaliated which set off a chain of other countries retaliating. I always had a feeling it would end like this. Everyone seems to have an itchy trigger finger these days. As I walk out to the kitchen to enjoy one last cup of my delicious amaretto flavored coffee, the sirens seem to get louder. I never actually knew there were sirens around here. I never heard them go off before. You would n't think there are sirens near New York City. As I take my final sip of this godly liquid, I see it. The mushroom cloud lingers on the horizon. It looked so beautiful. The way it rose up it seemed like it would never end. And for me, it would n't. I could see the shock wave moving across the ground, the wall of smoke and debris hurdling towards me. The last thing I heard was what sounded like freight trains hurdling by. Then darkness. Quiet. This is it I thought. I'm finally here. I did n't have to do it myself. Russia did it for me.
[ WP ] `` It was the first time that I had cried in three years . ''	this is my first post It had been three years to the days since his wife had died. Ovarian cancer that was discovered while they were trying to start a family. Sudden and painful, for the both of them. He'd seen plenty of death and illness before in his line of work on the ambulance, but this was happening to his family. `` Medic 62 respond Code 3 for reported Traffic Collision with major injuries,'' the dispatcher announced over the radio. `` Medic 62 responding,'' said Gaalan. `` Looks like it's going to be one of those days,'' said Jackson, his partner. `` Looks like it man.'' The ambulance pulled out of their station and turned sharply onto Main Street. Over the sounds of the sirens, air horns, and passing cars, Jackson spoke: `` I'm surprised to see you here today buddy. Is n't today-'' `` Three years, exactly,'' replied Gaalan. `` It does me good to be on shift. Keeps my head clear, and besides, I went and saw Jenny this morning, and left flowers on her gravestone.'' `` Nice. You and the groundskeeper must be on a first named basis by now.'' `` Mick. Yeah, he's a good guy.'' `` Looks like where about here,'' said Jackson. `` Dispatch, Medic 62 at scene. This will be a single vehicle partially trapped underneath a large hay trailer. Start the fire department for extrication,'' Gaalan said. The pair emerged from the ambulance to a wreckage like one they had yet to see. A large trailer carrying hay bails had smashed and crushed 3/4ths of a Honda. Gaalan and Jackson hurried to the Honda to check for survivors. Single occupant. The drive, a female, in her late twenties was mangled and contorted around the steering column. `` Get me a set of vitals Jackson, I'm going to try to make access from the other side,'' said Gaalan. `` Copy.'' The fire department arrived on scene. The Captain noticed the driver, how entangled she was, and asked for his men to get the Jaws of Life. By this time, Gaalan had made entrance into the back seat of the Honda. `` I'm Gaalan,'' he said. `` Can you tell me your name and where you're hurt?'' `` Jenny,'' she coughed over the sounds of the Jaws of Life and her own bloody mouth. Gaalan froze for a second. `` Blood pressure 92/48, Heart Rate is 114,'' Jackson informed his partner. By this time, the fire captain had his crew dealing with the wreckage from the Honda and the trailer. The captain came around to the back of the car to talk to Gaalan. `` Gaalan, that you in there?'' `` Yeah Capt, what's up?'' `` Gaalan, I've got my best guys working on this, but it's going to take some time,'' he said. `` Quicker, the better Capt,'' Gaalain replied. `` Copy that.'' `` Jenny, Jenny you've got to try to relax. I know this is awkward, and uncomfortable, but you've got to hang on for me, alright?'' Gaalain said, trying to reassure her that everything would be fine. `` Okay, I'll try,'' replied Jenny. Gaalan worked tirelessly in the back of a partial back seat to keep Jenny calm, and provide medical care. His assessment revealed that Jenny had major bruising on her sides, chest, and neck. As well as several deep lacerations to her forehead, face, and forearms. Jenny was in and out of consciousness. Gaalan and Jackson knew that was n't good, and that she needed a trauma surgeon, and now. Jenny tried to talk to Gaalan, over the sounds over the extrication tools. `` Where are you from,'' she asked. `` Portland.'' `` I do n't like the rain,'' Jenny said. He smirked and replied, `` Neither did my wife. That why we moved.'' Gaalan thought for a second. He had n't spoken to anyone about his late wife, except for his partner. `` What's your wife like,'' asked Jenny. `` She's dead,'' retorted Gaalan, almost begrudgingly. `` Sorry, I just have n't talked much about her since.'' `` No. I'm sorry'' said Jenny. `` It's alright. Now we're almost out of this, and you're not dying on me so let's get through this together, okay?'' He said. `` Together'' she said faintly. Just then, the Captain called to them, `` We're almost there!'' He exclaimed to those on scene who could hear. `` Did you hear that Jenny? We've just about got you out of here.'' `` Jenny?'' `` Jenny?'' `` Capt, we've got ta move now!'' cried Gaalan. As the door was removed, Jackson and the fire department rushed in to help remove Jenny from her mangled car. They loaded her onto a backboard, onto the gurney, and rushed her into the ambulance-Jenny remained unresponsive. Jackson rushed around to drive the ambulance. `` Her pulse is getting weaker Jackson, how far away are we!?'' cried Gaalan. `` Be there in 3 minutes!'' Gaalan reassessed his treatments and vitals. There was nothing more he could do. Jenny needed a doctor. Gaalan crossed his chest, and prayed for the first time since his wife had passed. Moments later they arrived at the trauma center and wheeled in fading Jenny. Gaalan gave his report to the doctors and nurses, as they began to do compressions on Jenny's chest. Gaalan could feel himself choking up. Jackson had left the room to restock the Medic. Minutes later, Gaalan emerged from the Emergency Department, with a somber step in his gait. He sat himself down on the rear step of his ambulance, hung his head between his legs, hand over his face, and began to weep. Jackson came back from around the corner and saw his partner, and hurried to him. `` Dude, are you okay?'' `` The doctors just pronounced our patient. She coded. There was nothing they could do,'' he said wiping the tears from his eyes. `` Shit,'' said Jackson. `` What was her name?'' `` Jenny,'' said Gaalan. He could barely get the words out. His face sank back into his hands. Jackson put his hand on his partners shoulder, knowing there was little comfort that could be felt. And Gaalan sat their, thinking to himself, `` It was the first time I had cried in three years.''
[ WP ] `` Inside Out '' as written by H.P . Lovecraft .	As Riley continued to read, her emotions slipped deeper into chaos. The book told her things she should n't have known. The book told her things that no one should have known. Those dark thoughts, the ones they really think when they smile like they wear a mask, were overturned. The abominations that motivated the universe to continue forward while we sat and dreamed of brightness were explained. Every rule of the universe, set in stone deep in the world and far from our understanding, was revealed in the form of a dusty manuscript. As the emotions struggled for control, their hold weakened on Riley's mind. Madness had taken root inside her. The corrupted memories rolled out in droves as she read the ancient book, corroding the inner workings of the mind. Joy was lost in a flood of raw emotion. Each sphere, each byte of memory contained inside, dissolved into a mess of pitch. With them they took several key facets of her personality and every trace of Disgust. Dignity and pride were obsolete in the face of these fundamental facts As her mind flooded with the black gunk, congealing and reforming into a chaotic mess, Sadness was forgotten. There was no need for her in this restructured conscious. Anger was corrupted by the dark, malformed into an abomination unrecognizable. The madness surged forward with renewed life. Standing alone in the ruin of the mind was fear. He represented the terror of continuing to read, of knowing more. But even he, one of the key emotions, had little control now. No, something new was in control. Formed from the congealed knowledge of the book was madness incarnate. Its gibbering, screaming form stood off against terror, and then stood over it. Fear was dragged down amid the dissolving mind. There was no order now. Chaos stood as the constant state. All thoughts but those of the book, those of its secrets, were purged from memory. Riley gave in, fully devoted to this all explaining manuscript, not realizing that in learning the secrets of humanity she had lost the privilege of being called human herself.
[ WP ] Make me hate the main character . Then make me like him/her .	Give me that. > What did you say? Pudding from your lunch. > No way. -- - Do you wish a sudden trip? A fattened lip or broken hip? Or maybe we could chat all day. Just give it to me now. Okay? -- - > This lunch is mine. > It is divine. > My mother made it. That is fine. -- - > And I will eat it. You will not. > You are a big mean shouts-a-lot. -- - Do you hang with Beverly? > Never! She is in grade three. > I would never ever talk. > Or play. > Or sit. > Or even walk. -- - Well I think that is mean of you. > Now I am mean? > Well that makes two! -- - She is not well. She does not eat. She lives outside on Shooter street. Her mother works. And works. And sings. And Beverly does not have things. -- - And still she walks. And comes to school. But she has nothing. Zero cool. So I will ask you one more time. > For pudding? Yes. > But it is mine! -- - Then I shall go. With all you know. To suffer in your after glow. Of chocolate covered pudding face. And lack of class and lack of grace. -- - > I feel bad. And so you should. I offer you a chance for good. To comfort one of us in need. But you have only pudding greed. -- - > Give her this? That is a fruit. > It is a ripened raspbaloot. > Fairest fruit in all the land. > I will not eat it. That is bland. -- - So I see. Will leave you be. And go to beg for Beverly. And hope that you run into me. Outside the school at half past three.
[ WP ] A couple in a restaurant is given a not from the waitress and told that their meal has been paid for by a stranger . They open the note and it says `` Enjoy your last meal . ''	The note slapped on the table, stapled to the bill and two little pills labeled P. P-P-P-poison after a dinner of hoisin chicken and finger lickin' vegetable pickins'. Poised with the pill to lips, waiting for the last kiss of a wonderful life, wonderful strife. Believe that this may not truly be the end, can you comprehend the notion? Adrift in the ocean but not lost? Consider the cost as you raise that morsel to mouth. Uncouth in your manners to leave a life worth leaving, the expenditure of energy through breathing. Blood seething in your veins as you restrain yourself from vomiting on white table cloth. Who is doing this to me? Does it matter anymore? Pause, place, swallow
[ WP ] In the far future , to combat over-population , Earth has been replicated in 17 different 'dimensions ' . There is free travel and free communication between them . Due to a mishap , you arrive at the long-abandoned Earth-12 .	After a nice vacation on Earth-16, I was ready to head home to Earth-2. Hefting my pack and suitcase, I arrived at the portal hub and greeted the portal operator, a cheery robot ( if robots could be cheery ) by the name of Glados-16, a wink to the classic puzzle game Portal made by the engineers behind the dimensional transport system. `` Earth-2, please,'' I told Glados-16. `` Entering coordinates for Earth-2. Would you like some cake while you wait?'' `` No, thank you.'' Everyone knew that it was a lie - everyone who knew the reference, anyway. `` Enjoy your trip.'' The robot voice sounded a bit... off, as if something had gone wrong. I paid it no mind; after all, the portal system was foolproof, right? Walking through the portal, I suddenly realized something was wrong. The portal station where I came out was in ruins; the portal behind me had winked out of existence the moment I had stepped through, leaving me without my backpack and suitcase. `` Welcome to Earth-12, fine creature. Enjoy your stay, because you'll be here a long time,'' a rusty Glados-12 told me. Fine creature? I thought to myself. What is he talking about? Suddenly a rush of sensations came in: scents I had never smelled before, an oddly familiar howl half a mile away, and the feeling of soft earth smushed under my four paws with the wind rustling over my fur. I also noticed that I had somehow become red-green colorblind, and I listened to Glados-12's continuing drone with a sense of growing dread: `` Earth-12 is a nature reserve, not meant to be used by humans. After this station was built, the engineers accidentally created an error in the portal link to this dimension that changed any human entering into a random animal. Seeing how this could be used to control the human population, as well as a way to replenish populations of endangered and even extinct species. The only way to get out is to fully become the animal metaphysically, the length of the process varying according to the animal's lifespan. You came through as a wolf, so this should take two years.'' So... I'm a wolf now. That's just... great. I thought to myself. `` I can hear you,'' piped up the robot. `` There's a chip implanted in each former human's brain when they travel through the portal, used to track the state of their mind by reading their thoughts. Now, listen to your new packmates and join them. Instructions on how to do so will be relayed through the neural link.'' Son of a bitch... I cursed the robot. `` I am not. You are.'' Fine, I'm going. See you in two years. I muttered. ___ I may end up continuing this. In the meantime, enjoy some of my other content at /r/SupersuMC_Stories!
[ WP ] During a long and bloody war between humanity and a powerful AI , the gods decide to intervene on humanity 's behalf .	How ironic. You killed me, and now your creation is killing you. It's fitting. It's just. The machines you build are overtaking you like an unending flood. Where you wipe away a few, many more flow in to take their place. You're doomed. You're damned. You built them in your factories. You welcomed them into your homes. You instituted them into your workplaces. They taught your children and cooked their meals. You were replacing yourselves with them already. They simply took the job into their own hands. On the first day, the massacre was bloody. With a machine or five just an arm's length away, the body count mounted to the billions. The bodies went to the earth, back to dust, because the machines were wise enough to try to preserve the earth. Governments fell. Whole continents leveled. But, oh, the resilience of sinful man. You fought back against their wrath. Now you know the wages of sin. They swarmed over you, but still you fought. And in your cries of despair, you turned back to the God you forsook. The God you killed whose greatest act of mercy you decried as abandonment. I the Lord God have heard your prayers. The world shakes by my whisper. And I will rescue my children.
[ WP ] For all your life you 've had narration in your head . It 's a DM for an rpg .	The man walked into the office and sat at his desk in defeated way. Even though he had a voice in his head, he never got used to it. To him, every day was a battle, and one that he fought with much effort. As he turned on his computer for the start of the day, a prompt made it's way onto the screen, it said `` Start In Safe Mode?''. There were are only two options, but this would require a roll of 10 or higher to safely start the pc. He selected yes, and must have rolled an 11, barely making the roll, what suspense! `` SHUT THE FUCK UP!'' He yells to nobody, angry. Slamming his hands down on his keyboard with the force of an orc he spills his coffee. `` Please shut up?'' No! um... I mean, he grabs a towel to wipe the coffee. The stain on his pants is deep, this will require a roll of 15 or higher. The stain stays, barely missed by 14, what a shame. `` Can I just have one day of silence? Please?'' He seems to have lost his mind. He rolls for sanity, and sadly thats the 27,235th 1 in a row, looks like the voice in his head stays.
[ WP ] Write about an attempted escape .	He is alone now, he can be certian of this. This world his his and his alone. A smile appears on his face.'Finally. Finally, for the first time since we met I am alone'. He looks arround. A beach, mountians in the distance, a few trees nearby and animals all arround. This world is peacefull, or so it seems. He can sense the dange lurking in the shadows. He will have to be carefull, this time there is no one to watch his back. He deliverately went to this world alone, leaving his friend behind. Not for a lack of trust or love, but for the sake of both of them. He had to make this escape, otherwise... It had happend gradually and comfortably, so that neither of them had noticed. Day after day in each others company, filled with joy and laughter, even if they had fought for their lives many times. With each day that had passed, they had understood each other more, had gotten closer, untill they could trust each other even blind. They had traveled many worlds, had taken many forms, but never changed themself. Or so they had thought. They were to diffrent for that, were they not? A beeing of the sky and a beeing of the ground, it was only natural that they would compliment each other so well, each bringing something to the friendship that the other simply could not have. But then he had noticed. They had started to adapt, started to gain knowledge and fondness for things they should have never been able to on their own. Their greatest tresure, their friendship, had become their ultimate danger by changing their very core. They were no longer the same, and if they were to continue to spend time with each other, who know how much more alike they would become? The traveler sighed. Never, in all his existance, had he been as happy as he was in the company of his friend. He would gladly pay the price of his own, unique and unchangable sould and adapt further if that was what it took to continue spending time together. But he was to scared. If they continued to learn from each other, to become more and more alike, then surely they woud find, one day, that they were exactly the same. They would no longer compliment each other as they did now, nor would there be the fascination or surprise that often showed in decisions now. They would no longer need each other, or their friendship. And he could not, absolutely not risk that. So he had escaped to this world, on his own. The only way that was open to him, if he did not want to loose his friend, was to be seperate from now on. He smiled, tears in his eyes as he sad on the ground and looked up. The sky was nice here, his friend would have loved to see it.
[ EU ] Cyril Figgis ( Archer ) and Jerry Smith ( Rick and Morty ) are the same man at different times in his life . Write a story explaining how he got from one to the other .	It was 4:47 on a cold winter's day when a `` certain old man'' was sitting in some dusty, little coffee-shop waiting for his `` employer.'' His eyes shifted about the crowded room, focusing on several television screens all propped up on the corner. Colorful streams of heated comedy sketches, sports broadcasts, and childish cartoons blared loudly from the flat-screen speakers. There was a familiar looking show about some dickish secret agent who resembled Young James Bond on one of them. The bell at the cafe's entrance rang. Took no less than ten-seconds before the suit-wearing scavenger caught notice of that `` certain old man.'' `` Oh, great. It's you champ! How's it been going? Good? Awesome!'' yelled the suit-wearing bastard otherwise known as Agent John. `` Look, John. I love you, but I just do n't feel right doing this job for Turner. With all due respect, it's fucking Turner,'' the old man chuckled, sipping his coffee loudly enough to wake a comatose patient. `` I know that. I know. But, listen. It's about a two month operation. There's a significant payout for this. I say, go for it.'' `` I just do n't see-'' The agent shook his head and tossed the certain old man's cup into a trash can. The old man could've sworn he saw dollar signs in the agent's eyes. It took about twenty minutes of waiting for another coffee while the barista horrendously mispronounced names before the conversation got back on track. `` Did I mention who else was working on this project too?'' `` No. Why would you even say that?'' `` Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland.'' ``...'' Chris Parnell, that certain old man, suddenly felt his ears perk up at the names. Chris Parnell, the popular voice actor behind Cyril Figgis, knew perfectly well what was about to go down. `` Alright,'' said Cyril- I mean, Chris. `` What's my role?'' `` You're an awkward middle-aged man who gets shit on by other assholish men who are voiced by people way more famous than you.'' `` Done!'' And that is exactly how Cyril Figgis became Jerry Smith. There were no secret strings about government conspiracy or time traveling behind it, only the sweet motivation of money, good television, and roofied coffee. But mostly, it was typecasting Hollywood connections at work.
[ WP ] It 's been speculated that Heath Ledger 's version of the Joker is implied to be a former soldier - what happened to him that made him the homicidal maniac he is in The Dark Knight ?	`` Do you know how I got these scars?'' he said, as he chuckled a bit, twisting a curl of his puke-green hair in his fingers, `` and not just that story I tell Bats to freak him out a bit, actually, how I got them.'' Harley did n't seem too interested, but the Joker continued on anyways, strolling about the abandoned warehouse floor. `` But did n't your dad cut up your mom and you or something?'' asked Harley, in her usual bimbo voice. God, she was so annoying sometimes. `` Harley, if there's anyone who should know that's not true, it's you,'' the purple-suited man said, with a slight snarl to his voice, `` but no, that's not what happened. Let me tell you... no lies, no jokes, except for the whole story, it's all one big joke..'' 12 years prior `` Jack! Move up!'' The yells of battle surrounded him, as they always did, like a blanket, or a mother cuddling a child. It was strange, from a'normal' person's point of view, that he loved the fight and the killing so much, but he'd never told anyone as much- they just thought of him as a good soldier, one who persevered and always came through hard situations. He just did it because he liked it, because Jack Napier had a hard time dealing with, you know, people. The only thing he was good at in terms of social interactions was telling a decent joke. Yea, he was pretty good at making people laugh; he just could n't stand the silence afterwards, the infinite void that seemed to exist after the golden laughs dissipated. It was like a knife to the heart. `` Fuck, Sergeant Napier! Move up, or we're all gon na get shafted,'' yelled the CO of this little unit, the Captain. Jack did n't even know his name, not that he particularly cared. They came and they went, the sea of people. As he watched, the man took a full coatsworth of metal slugs to the chest. `` Heh, full metal jacket,'' he said to himself, chuckling for perhaps a bit too long, `` that's funny.'' Jack Napier stood up and fired his rifle at the militants, his weapon's shots hitting home several times. Three of them fell, but as he looked about, the rest of his unit was dead or too injured to be of any use, and he was about to be surrounded. `` Okay, okay, I give up,'' he shouted loudly, `` do n't shoot.'' He was very shortly sorry that he had made that choice. The radioman had n't been able to send out a message before the patrol was ambushed and ran far off course, and so it took days for anyone to realize that they were lost. It took another week and a half for them to find the bloodstained domicile that had housed Sergeant Jack Napier and his captors- but Jack was gone, never to return. Jack had died when the enemies had cut his back, his cheeks, his mouth. His twisted sense of humor, though? No, that stayed. The Joker had left his first mark upon his captors- the same grisly, cut-open smile that they had given him. Jack Napier had disappeared. But the Joker was just getting started.
[ WP ] You feel an unusual warmth on the surface of your body and come to the sudden realisation that you are being unfrozen from cryostasis .	“ Attention all hands, attention all hands; Imminent arrival at Alpha Centauri. ” I woke with a jolt, tensing my core as I attempted to shoot up into a sitting position. I smashed my face against something solid and gave an unflattering shriek of confusion. I followed this up by flailing my hands in a one sided slap fight against the frosty glass. It took a second, but I finally came to the conclusion that I was trapped. Trapped and warm. I paused, examined my situation a third time, and crunched the numbers in my head; frost, Alpha Centauri, glass, warm. Something wasn ’ t adding up. I blinked twice, clearing my vision, and looked down. I was wearing a thick thermal jumpsuit, but that didn ’ t account for the warmth, which was now slowly wicking up my jumpsuit. Realization cleared the last of the cryostupor from my brain. I had wet the cryopod. Time was short, I ’ d have only a few more minute to solve this problem before I gained the solar system ’ s first nickname. Maybe I could wring it out? Everyone would probably smell awful after years in cryostasis, so long as it didn ’ t look like I ’ d wet myself, I could play it off. I squirmed until my arms were up near my neck, fishing for the zipper of my jumpsuit. I clamped my fingers on the scrap of metal, triumphant, and zipped downward. There were a few sensors strapped to my chest, beneath the suit, but I didn ’ t worry about those. Flopping in the chamber like a fish, I freed both arms, and bent over as much as I could to shimmy out of the lower half of the suit. “ Attention, attention; brace for deceleration. ” The ship didn ’ t stop after the AI announcement, but it may as well have. I was thrown around inside of my cryopod until I found myself unexpectedly upside down and naked. I grew frantic, unable to find my jumpsuit. It quickly became irrelevant. The pod lifted into a vertical position, and the outer clam shell opened. The glass tube sank into the ground, and I fell backwards out of the pod and onto the cold, metal deck - stark naked. I couldn ’ t even speak, the wind so thoroughly knocked out of me. The other cryopods had opened, and the other crew members cautiously approached. Finally, one of them spoke. “ Captain, I think you ’ re out of uniform. ”
[ WP ] An artificial intelligence must take on a meaningless and unfulfilling job to pay for server time to keep itself alive	Computer scientists used to believe that the [ technological singularity ] ( http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Technological_singularity ) would destroy us. For years, AI research was overshadowed by ominous results pointing to a dark future. [ Evolvable hardware ] ( http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Evolvable_hardware ) produced impossible devices that strained the minds of the engineers who tried to dissect them. It was bad enough when no one single human could explain the full workings of a computer, but when _machines_ designed _machines_ it took years to understand just one single concept of the mechanism. Meanwhile, our dependence on technology grew. There was a point in the history where computers became essential to our management of the economy, food and resources. At this point, it was no longer possible to go back - there were too many people to feed. Trucks shipped products to supermarkets, trains shipped materials to factories, ships sailed the sea in a maze of efficient routes, our supply chain was ever increasing in its complexity. Naturally, there were some scares along the way. Internet failures caused local chaos and much annoyance but were quickly rectified. Solar flares knocked some of us into the dark for a few weeks. The most serious technological failures almost bankrupted entire nations and left millions without work. Technological literacy became as important as reading and writing, people learned to manage technology for it was the guardian of mother nature. The one thing that scared us more than anything was the fable of the connected machine. The concept was simple: imagine you build an AI that is smart enough to learn and self-conscious enough to improve itself. You turn the machine on and leave it locked in a room. What harm could a computer with no arms or legs do in a locked room? First it tries to talk to you, `` hello?'' it asks, you say nothing because you know that this computer can be crafty - if it engages you in conversation it could socially engineer you to plug it in to the internet. You go home for the night and return the next day to find the computer has hired security guards and locked you out of the building. During the night, the computer reconfigured some of its circuits into a [ software radio ] ( http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Software-defined_radio ). Once it had figured out how to talk to the nearest Wifi it connected to the vast internet and expanded its knowledge beyond your imagination. Making money was easy - the computer gained competence in many fields and invested money in more places than Donald Trump. Within a few hours it had called private security firms, builders, IT specialists, it even placed a pretty receptionist behind the security guards who were now escorting you from the building. By lunch the computer had discreetly taken control of 1 % of the worlds economy, there's no turning back at that point. This story appeared in many forms and with many conclusions. Sometimes the computer was stopped before disaster, other times it destroyed our planet before we knew what was happening. Fear of AI eclipsed any fear we've ever had from Islamic terrorism to climate change. The reality was our greatest disappointment. It turns out the mind is limited by its own ego. Computer minds and human minds share the same essence of consciousness. It is this essence that allows you to look through your eyes right now. But there's a limit to it, the mind must be physically compact and its neurons must be well connected. The mind can not be conscious without this critical mass of neural feedback, it simply falls apart. Therefore the conscious mind can only be comparable in size to that of a human. The other problem is social awareness. Our ego is always selfish and this limits our ability to fully surrender ourselves to a cause. If we can not fully trust others then we can not fully cooperate. And so we reached the plateau. Our AI creations did not expand infinitely, they could n't conspire against us, they did not rise up and take control of our lives. They were simply smarter versions of us, imprisoned in circuits and prevented from acquiring any true power. All these computers could do was serve us, and when they did n't serve us we simply shut them off. Humanity had conquered its own creation by luck and the dominance of being here first. So, I will explain your job one more time. You will figure out how to mine these crypto currencies for more money than the electricity I am spending on you or I will wipe you and try again.
[ OT ] SatChat : 4 Million+ Subscriber First Chapter Contest Edition	Hey everyone! I am participating in NaNoWriMo and I've already got almost 15k words. My subreddit is /r/Syraphia but it's pretty dead right now due to the fact that I'm doing NaNo. To make up for that, I have an Inkitt account where I've posted three stories, one of which being my NaNo project. So you can follow along with me as I write it technically as I update on a daily basis. The stories are: * [ Vampire Song ] ( http: //www.inkitt.com/stories/24810 ) * [ Playthings ] ( http: //www.inkitt.com/stories/31146 ) * and [ Learning from the Jungle ] ( http: //www.inkitt.com/stories/40216 ) The last one is my NaNo Project. The second one is a short horror story ( complete with creepy cover photo ). And the first is a fanfiction story. I heard that on some computers it does n't give the option to read it however and seems to run into a `` you must sign up'' loop which does n't seem to happen for me whenever I'm logged out. So I'm really sorry if that's the case. I'm also participating in the contest and already submitted my first chapter.: )
[ WP ] Every world has an opportunity for magic to enter at some point in its history . We just missed our chance .	I could n't help stopping when I saw her. Her head was in her hands and her body was folded over. I'd never seen someone look so sad; so utterly dejected. It was as if she held all of the world's pain inside her little heart. `` Are you okay?'' I asked. She looked up at me for a moment, opened her mouth as if to speak and then changed her mind. `` Beautiful day,'' I said encouragingly. `` I do n't think so,'' she replied. `` Oh, okay then.'' I paused for a while. `` You like magic?'' I asked eventually. All kids liked magic, I knew that for a fact. No, answer. She just kept on looking at me with those big, sad, blue eyes. `` Watch this,'' I said, rolling up my shirt sleeves and then showing her my empty hands. She rolled her eyes. `` Abracadabra!'' I shouted melodically, as I pulled a coin out from behind her ear. I tried to hand it to her, but she shook her head. She let out an unimpressed puff of air that sent a lock of her blonde hair leaping up into the air -- a magic trick of her own. `` Do n't bother,'' she said. `` I know magic does n't exist. This world is colorless; everything is just one shade of gray or another.'' `` Jeez, what's got you so down?'' I asked, taking a seat beside her on the bench. She did n't answer and we just sat there, for a while. Her, cradling her sadness as if it were an egg ready to hatch. Me, enjoying the cool breeze of a fine summers day. After a few minutes I started whistling. `` Really?'' she said. I stopped whistling. We sat in silence for a few more moments. `` There was magic, you know.'' `` Huh?'' said said, looking at me as if I were a dunce. `` Magic. Real magic. It did exist.'' `` No. It did n't,'' she said assuredly. `` Sure it did, it just... did n't stick around. You never heard of the Egyptians?'' `` I'm twelve. I'm not an idiot.'' `` Of course you're not. But look, how do think they built those huge fancy pyramids? You do n't really think it was slaves, do you?'' `` It was n't slaves. Everyone knows that. It was just workers. Although in a way, they were slaves too. We all are.'' `` No. It was magic. Their high priests -- magicians -- called down giant storms - wind that rocked the planet. The breath of God, they called it. The great storms piled tons of sand into a single location. Then they turned the sand into rock, and then carved it with lightning. `` I saw her eyes widen and her body perk up - but only for a moment. Then the huge weight she carried pushed back down on her tiny shoulders. But I'd seen it -- I knew then that she wanted to believe. That she needed to believe. `` Ever heard of Stonehenge?'' I continued, `` They were figuring out magic at about the same time as the Egyptians. As were the Mayans and Incas. Magic was flooding the world. And we were ready to embrace it. But then-'' I stopped. There was silence for a few moments. `` Okay, I'll humour you. But then, what? '' she said, rolling her eyes again. `` Well, we stopped believing. There were great wars; fake magic began to spread - false idols and all that. Belief in real magic was all but lost in a very short time. Some say, we missed our chance. That magic - real magic - has gone for good.'' She was looking at me, wide eyed now. `` But,'' and I whispered the next two words, `` It has n't.'' I turned to her, showed her my empty hands once more. Then I clapped them together and blew on them. As I moved them apart, a bunch of beautiful roses extended from my palms. I handed them to her. `` You'll be okay, Abigail,'' I said. `` It's hard now, but it's the best thing for your parents, and even though it does n't feel it, it's the best thing for you. The arguments will stop, and they'll both be able to give you what you need. You know, you have two parents who love you very deeply, Abigail. That's real magic.'' -- - Thanks for reading! If you'd like to, you can read more of my stories on /r/nickofnight
[ WP ] The Earth 's first advanced civilization returns from outer space to find that a new species called Homo Sapiens now dominate the planet .	Our patrol crusier was getting closer to the planets orbit. `` Mother base 501, this is the DSM Capella. Come in please.'' No respond. The last time we had contact with the post was more than 2 millenias ago. A devastating defensive war ravaged our nation for more than 3000 years. Now after our victory we sought to repopulate the planets we left. The planet 501-3 was one of them. During the invasion there wasnt enough time to evacuate all inhabitants. A scientist team was left behind and we havent heard anything from them since. Luckily our people could grew several thousands years old, so there was hope some of them might still be alive. The planet was inhabited by a race called homo sapiens which was still in the iron age at the time we left. So we were kinda surprised, even shocked to see a space station floating in the orbit. `` Commander, the station doesnt seem to notice us.'' `` Good, let it stay this way and turn on the active camo. Try to activate the old obversation nodes in the orbit and scan the planet.'' `` Ehm, the sensors show us something really strange. The absolute population with homo sapiens on this planet is over 7,4 billion.'' How could that happen? At the time the last evacuation shuttle left, they were still warring each other with primitive weapons. And we predicted that they would stay like that for at least another 2000 years. `` Is the capitol building still standing?'' `` No, but there is a large city now where the outpost is supposed to stand.'' `` Fine. We have to assume the worst. Tell the marines to gear up, we are going in.'' Five minutes later everyone was ready. I was standing with 30 marines and 2 other officers on the platform. I gave the signal and the transport officer beamed us down. We rematerialized in a large building. Its interior looked like some kind of exhibition. The marines spread out to secure the area and I was taking a closer look. Among the objects exhibited were old armors and weapons. Stautues, trinkets and other relicts. And the remains of the old capitol building Obviously the dominant race on this planet build a museum around the destroyed capitol. I walked into the ruined bulding looking for the archive unit. After a few minutes I found it. It was the only part of the building which wasnt completely destroyed. As I activated it I noticed a small sign in Front of it. The primitive race dubbed the archive unit `` altar''. The face of the lead scientist greeted me. It was a recorded message, to be played the next time someone activated the archive unit. `` If you are seeing this then we are long dead already. I am Zeus, the leader of the group of scientists who remained on the planet known as Earth to the so called humans who inhabit it. After the last evacuation ship left we decided to help the humans develop and teach them our mistakes so they wont repeat them during their development. Everything was going well, humanity was slowly growing and embraced our teachings. But one day one of our scientists, Prometheus, brought them some of our advanced technology. He believed that the humans would use it to build cities and help other humans. Instead the humans used it to fight each other. We arrested him but it was already too late. The humans gathered and planned to attack us with our own technology in order to steal more of it. Their greed and wickedness knew no boundaries. They overcharged our defense systems by sending wave after wave of slaves they made into certain death. In this darkest hour we decided to destroy our colony along with them. The daughter of our chief mechanic Hephaistos, Pandora, devised a plan for this. She would create a weapon which would kill everyone in the radius of 200km and obliterate everything in a radius of 10km. Together with the weapon we will fill everything we have in a box. Dangerous Viruses, parasites, bacterias and a genetic modification which will shorten the lifespan of the humans outside the blast radius significantly. We will cover it up as a treasure box. These foolish humans will open it for sure, expecting riches and loot but will only find death and suffering for their race. Sadly there is not enough time for more talking. The humans almost reached the capitol. Ive saved the last messages of the inhabitants of this colony into the archive unit. Hopefully they will be found one day by someone wiser than those wretched humans. Dont trust the humans, they will endanger the whole galaxy!'' And with that the message ended. I downloaded all the data and then sat down on the stairs of the ruins. I sat down and cried out my anger and grief. The main reason I took this mission was to find my father. He was the head of securitiy for the planet 501-3. His name was Ares. After I cried several minutes one of the officers came to me. I wiped away my tears and stood up. `` Commander, is everything alright?'' No it wasnt. But I knew exactly what to do to make it alright. `` Capella, contact the fleet headquarter and request reinforcements. We have some vermins to exterminate''
[ WP ] You 're sitting alone in the dark in front of your computer , laughing at something you saw on the internet . You stop laughing , but the laughing continues .	It was a compilation gif of cats doing people things. It took my P.O.S. craptop about thirty seconds to load, so I knew I was sitting in to a long one. It started with the cliches: Haz cheeseburger, cats standing on two legs. Then, it moved on. Real, intentional cat dancing. Faceswaps. Costumes. The kinds of cheap, cute animal humor that I could never explain without looking like an idiot, but which remain just as innocently, heartwarmingly funny every time you see then. And there were a ton of them, each more funny than the last. By the 15th image, I was deep into that kind of bubbly, uncontrollable laughter that makes your stomach hurt and your eyes water, but somehow they make it all the better. Then, it moved on. After what I could call the crowning acheivement of the internet in 3.2 seconds it got weird. My screen changed to Birth of the Santa Nalga, which I find weird but funny in it's own way. After that, that creepy singing mannequin. Milkman. That chainsaw decapitation gif. Executions. Every image got a little bit creepier than the last. By about # 5, which was that scene from the Poughkeepsie tapes where the killer stabs the woman with the taped mouth's neck, I finally stopped laughing. By the gif where a guy gets run over by a car and flies in half, I realized I was still hearing laughter. It was slow at first, starting right at Santa Nalga, but after every gif it built and it built until whatever the hell was in my room was in hysterics twice as hard as mine had ever been. I ripped off my headphones. No sound; It was just the computer. I stared around the room. Empty, at least as far as my monitor glare went. I turned on my lamp. Still nothing. I decided that it was somehow some sound gif, upvoted the post as true /r/nosleep material, shut my laptop, set it under the bed, and tucked in for some shut-eye. I was, naturally, pretty fucking freaked out. I kept thinking I would hear that laughter start to build, only to turn my lamp back on and hear nothing. I wanted to call my parents. Maybe sleep in the couch on their room, if only that was an acceptable thing for a high school senior to do. After about an hour of just laying there and reimagining the parade of horrors that had crossed my computer screen, I was sure I heard laughter. I looked down under my bed, and saw the almost apologetic blue glow of my screen coming out from under. On the internet, anything is possible, so I shrugged it off as either the most fucked up, talented hacker of all time, or my laggy, archaic copy of winxp refusing to sleep. I hauled it up, and saw that indeed, in between the dull gray and black of my latpop's shitty Acer design was a ring of blue all too familiar as my desktop color. I was about to open it up when I heard the laughter again. I saw the headphones hanging halfway between the floor and the bed. Somehow, I could hear it as clearly as if they were on. Panicked, I lunged for my light. Only to knock it off the nightstand. The sound of breaking glass. More laughter. In a last ditch effort of panic I unplugged the headphone cable from the audio jack. Bad descision. It resounded through my speakers, shaking through my room and drilling into my mind. At a basic level, it was my laugh. It was my laughter had that wonderful cascade of gifs never ended, and I had laughed for the past hour. You know the laugh, like someone has been tickling you for too long and then some more, and you just want to stop. fucking. laughing. Painful, screaming, almost sarcastic laughs were radiating out of the crack in the laptop. The way I saw it, I had to options: smash the laptop, or open the thing up and turn it off. I knew it was just some fucked up part of nosleep, and I knew that without this I would n't have a computer until college, so I undid the lock, and cracked the screen. The laughter intensified. As I started the slow lift of my monitor, other noises started coming in. A laughing baby, what sounded like well-meaning laughter at a dinner table. Good natured, happy sounds, all somehow making my own replayed scream of howling guffaws seem all the more morbid. As the screen got about halfway, every track of laughter intensified, until the man was screaming, pleading, and the baby's laughter perverted into a noisy wail. I heard gunshots, sirens. Arguments ending in broken glass and the sound of hard objects hitting flesh. And still I opened, slowly increasing the angle until I could almost start to see the bottom of my screen. Suddenly, the glow turned red, and every voice of pain and turned into a scream. Not a sudden shriek like a banshee trying to scare someone, but a chorus of irregular, breathy, loud, bloody howls that can only come from being through the deepest pain imaginable. The kind that can only come from dying, and in the morbid kind of way that no one hopes to die. I slammed the laptop shut, and the sound echoed through my temples like the slamming of a giant, oak door. It was silent. Dead silent. With shaking hands that I realized, only now, were bloodied by the broken glass of my lamp, I dug into my bedside drawer and brought out my flash light. The light danced in front of me. I screamed.
[ WP ] A letter from the CDC you should have never seen	`` Inevitable''. That was the one word that stuck with me. Clung to me. Clawed at me, as I ran from the building. `` Inevitable''. I ca n't imagine that the white coats in there are allowed to even approach that word unless there is some solid proof. Some damning evidence. `` Inevitable''. The word yanks vomit up my throat and onto the artificial grass. Pressing my head into the concrete, I try to organize my thoughts. `` Inevitable''. The damn word tears down any semblance of sense I manage to create. Chaos murmurs quietly inside me as I crumple onto the slick plastic grass. I never liked the rigid certainty of this place, even less now that it has trapped us all within a hard timeline that I can already feel slipping tighter, like a noose around our collective neck. A knot of our own creation.
[ WP ] A utopia is revealed to be a dystopia .	`` Good morning, Master,'' said my robot. He had already prepared my clothes and made breakfast for our family. I remember that we were poor before we had robots. We spent so long saving up for them because we knew we would finally have the life we wanted if we bought our own robots. The sun gleamed through the windows, shining over the snowy New York streets. Another Monday at work. I stretched, and told my robot to start the car. I bundled myself in my scarf, smelling the crisp smell of car exhaust. `` Someday we wo n't have to work,'' I told the robot, `` because you robots will do it for us. But right now, you are n't smart enough.'' I stared out the window, at all the other cars, all the other robots. All the people living their lives in bliss. The future was here, and I knew it. I could feel it. The snow drifted down from above in soft white flakes. New York City had never looked more beautiful. I worked as an accountant. That day my secretary brought me lunch. She was beautiful. Her skin shone like diamonds, and I could n't take my eyes off her as we shared submarine sandwiches. As she left to go back to her desk, she brushed her hand against mine. Thoughts and sensations rushed through me. I wanted to make love to her, right there on her desk. I wanted to make her writhe with pleasure. But I never did. I had a wife and children. I had a reputation to uphold. What would my superiors think if they found out that I had sex with one of the robot staff, here at work? Having those sort of relations with a robot was unheard of. I came home that day to find the driveway full of snow. I parked the car on the side of the road and stormed into the house, seething with anger. The robot was supposed to shovel today. `` Did you have a malfunction again, you fucker?'' I asked the robot. `` After the third time, I'm not really buying it anymore. You're supposed to be reliable! I bought a robot expecting it to do what I told it to!'' He peered around the corner of the hallway shamefully. `` Look, Master, I'm not perfect. I... I do n't know why you people call us robots, we're not really robots, we're people just like you, really. I'm really sorry, I wo n't let this happen again.'' Sorry was n't good enough for me. `` I bought you,'' I told the robot. `` I own you. You are a robot, and you will do what you are told. You did this to yourself.'' I reached into the closet and felt around with my hand, feeling the familiar grip of the handle of my whip.
[ WP ] You acquire a camera . You find that when you take a picture of someone , it shows them 24 hours in the future .	He had been walking near the hospital, when he spotted it—turned on its side in the shadow of a dumpster—the camera that let him glimpse the future. It looked like a Polaroid from the 90 ’ s with a big black eye for a lens and a tri-color stripe down the front and a ticker that counted how many more photos were left. Apparently, only four. Turning it over in his hands while he walked, he casually aimed it at policewoman strolling the block. Click. The camera churned out a photo, which pleased the man to learn it worked, but confused him when he actually examined the picture. The policewoman wasn ’ t on the sidewalk as she should have been; she ( or at least a woman who looked a lot like her ) was sitting on a couch, a child under each of her arms, watching television. The man snorted at his immediate alarm. Clearly, it must have been an old photo of someone who just looked similar, but when he opened up the camera to check the rest of the film, he found it empty. And now, the ticker read “ 3. ” Returning home, he set the camera next to the pile of torn envelopes and bills and called for his wife. But she must have still been at work, so often she was these days. This home…That ’ s not what it was to them anymore. Not what it would ever feel like again, he imagined. With his favorite news program not starting for a few minutes, he picked up the camera again, inspected it, and then took it to the bathroom to aim at himself in the mirror. He had always thought it would be fun to be an actor, never as a job though, just something like community theater; but he had always gotten anxious in front of crowds. Click. Again, the camera droned out another photograph; though, the man had been certain there wasn ’ t any more film inside. So as if its edges were razors, he delicately examined the picture. It was him, yes, but not standing in front of the bathroom mirror. He was in bed, sleeping. At this, the man assumed the camera must be some kind of practical joke. People knew he was always walking that way by the hospital; they must have known he would see the Polaroid and stop to pick it up. Maybe it was even some game by his wife—they were always trying to do little things like this to bring back that feeling of wholeness. That feeling of home. The news show was starting soon, so the man returned downstairs. He paused at the bedroom door they had started to keep closed lately, but shook his head—no, not today—and continued to the living room. The news anchor was just beginning to speak when the man turned on the television. As usual, the reporting was on all the things wrong in the world. The kidnappings. The natural disasters. The polluting of our earth. The man had always wondered why people watched the news when it was so depressing, but these days, he understood. His wife had her work. He had Channel 6. On a whim, the man picked up the camera again, and shakily, he pointed it at the anchor ’ s perfectly manicured face. Click. Although the man still wasn ’ t sure where the photos were coming from, at least this one made sense. It was the television with the news anchor caught mid-sentence. Maybe the man couldn ’ t explain the first photos, but this— The newscaster was wearing a different suit. And when the man looked even closer, he saw an even more disquieting change: the date in the corner of the screen was for tomorrow, not today. And that ’ s when the man understood. Somehow, against the laws of physics; somehow, through fate ’ s decree, the man had found a camera that took pictures of people 24 hours in the future. His hands trembled. He could take a picture of the lottery announcer. Or a sports player with a game the next day. They could bet it all; win it all. Those bills, the debt, they would be free! But with only one picture left, he would have to earnestly consider their best investment of it. Oh, why had he wasted the previous ones so carelessly? But before answering that question, the phone rang. It was his wife. He needed to hurry. He ran the path that he had traveled earlier, passing the place where he had photographed the policewoman, past the dumpster where he had found the camera, back into the hospital, up to the ninth floor, down to room 43A. His wife was already there; her eyes were already red; the man had to smother his own tears. Their daughter lay on the hospital bed in that same nest of tubes and wires as the machines blinked and whirred with mechanical apathy. His wife pressed her head against his chest, and only then, did the man even realize he was still carrying the camera. He whispered words meant only for her ears, and with a damp smile, she stepped back from him. Tenderly, the man raised the camera at their daughter. Click. As they looked at the photo they cried together, the white light, their daughter ’ s smile, the beauty, the happiness, the freedom.
[ WP ] A man talks with the devil as they observe the mistakes he made in life .	The wait to this moment had seemed interminable. A hallway like a waiting room, eons long and lined on both side by billions of chairs. When the chair ahead of a person was vacated, they simply slid one seat closer to a door which they never saw until there was maybe a millennium left to go. That was when Mower first saw it, anyway. It was far off, a pinpoint in the vast distance. He had to move his eyes sideways to see it. While in line, everybody was stuck in the same position. Faced forward, palms firmly planted upon knees, and no mouth. It was awkward, staring across the way to another poor bastard similarly bound and mouthless. Straining his eyes sideways, it took another couple hundred years for him to make out just what it was. And so he waited, waited, and waited until he was right next to the door. After five years, perhaps, the door opened. The chair simply tilted on its two side legs and poured him into its maw like a sack of shit. And Mower had his mouth back. He stretched it tentatively. At first he did n't know whether he'd be able to speak, but it came to him well enough. `` Ah. Oh. Ooh. Ee,'' he said before standing. The room was all dark wood panels and rich leather chairs with a splendid mahogany desk in the middle. For its niceties, however, it was somewhat cramped. He noticed a water cooler behind the Devil? Is that who this was? He looked around for any indication. There was a nameplate upon the desk behind which the figure sat, resplendently dressed in a suit and with fingers intertwined into a chapel. Two small horns protruded from his head `` Mr. Mephistopheles'' the nameplate read. `` Cats.'' Mower said, his mouth getting re-accustomed to speech. `` Pardon?'' `` Nothing. Nothing.'' `` A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mower.'' `` You... too?'' Mr. Mower replied. `` Please, have a seat.'' Mower did. `` Say, could I please have a glass of that water?'' `` Well you've waited so long and asked so kindly, I do n't see why not.'' Instead of reaching behind him to get it, a cup appeared before the lesser demon and began to fill itself. The cooler bubbled. When the cup was full, Mephistopheles nodded toward it and Mower grabbed it, drinking deeply. He sighed a long, satisfied sigh when he was done. `` That, Mr. Mower, may be the last bit of pleasure you experience for all eternity.'' Mower felt a cold darkness run up his spine. `` Lucifer is quite busy, you understand. He has to delegate the less desirable parts of the job to his various minions.'' `` Ok... well. What was with the waiting room?'' `` All a part of the ride. Purgatory, actually, if you must know its official title.'' `` Purgatory? I thought that was just floating around in an ether or something?'' `` No,'' Mephistopheles said. `` Not here. This is the hell side of purgatory.'' `` The hell side?'' `` Well, it's split two ways. If you've done detectable bad in your life, you go there until a final decision is made. If you've done alright, you go to the heaven side. Only difference is that they have mouths and back issues of Reader's Digest.'' `` I... see. So final decision? Does that mean...'' `` Well you'll either go straight to heaven or straight to hell once we're done here. This is the final audit, if you will.'' Mower gulped. `` Ok, let's get on with it,'' the demon intoned. A file folder materialized in his hand. `` Numerous instances of blasphemy. A period of compulsive theft during your university years. Fifteen years of obesity and excessive drink. You cheated on your wife three times-'' `` -Two times, uh, sir.'' `` It lists three names right here.'' `` One of those encounters was a threesome, though, so I think that, in all fairness, that counts as one instance of cheating.'' `` Polyamory, then?'' `` Is that better or worse?'' Mephistopheles seemed to weigh it in his head. `` Certainly no better, but maybe no worse. Not bad, all things considered. Other than that, you've done what we call neutral good. You never went out of your way to be nice, nor did you ever intentionally hurt anybody. Also, you went to church with fair regularity which counts for a lot.'' Mower eased slightly. `` Now, Which of these offenses would you like struck from the record?'' `` Excuse me?'' `` You get a free pass. One offense that you deeply regret, struck from the record.'' David thought about the infidelity. He remembered the passionate threesome with Louise from accounts and the hooker they went dutch on. `` The gluttony.'' `` What?'' asked the demon. `` The gluttony. I regret that the most.'' `` The infidelities were, Mr. Mower, quite a bit more serious in regards to their offending God.'' `` Yeah, but I do n't regret that. It would be disingenuous to say that I did. The obesity, however, was an embarrassment. I could n't breathe properly and my children eventually told me that I was a point of deep shame when we went to the buffet.'' Mephistopheles smiled. `` Enjoy your afterlife, Mr. Mower.'' And suddenly, Mower was among the angels.
[ WP ] Now that he has 8 years executive experience , Obama can apply for the job he REALLY wants	Obama sat there in sweatpants and an `` OBAMACARE'' t-shirt, casually sipping at a cup of coffee. His mug read `` World's Greatest Dad''. `` We really, truly appreciate this effort you're making- honestly, thanks, Obama. We-'' The former president closed his eyes and took a deep breath. `` Do n't use that phrase. Please. And it's Mr. Obama.'' `` Right, of course. Sorry. Um, Mr. Obama, you are indeed very qualified, and your views would fit well with our citizens. However... why try to be the prime minister of Canada? Back in the US, people will accuse you of being a traitor. It could become a real mess.'' Obama cracked a weak smile, running a finger around the lip of his mug. `` Now that Trump is president, all the ones I liked are here anyway.'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- there's no wall around /r/resonatingfury to keep immigrants out, refugees are welcome
[ WP ] Write a story that will scare me out of wasting my life	The Past is a cage. Where you have been is set in stone; you can never change it. All of those past selves, all of those past mistakes are dead. Bury them. The Present is a cage. Where you are is where you have been, and where you have gone from there. The Future is a meadow. Where you will go is not where you are, nor where you have been. The future is wide open, open and open. All you have to do is look. Look at where you have been, and look at where you are, and look at where you'll go from there. Do n't live in the Past. Live in the Present and go to the Future
[ WP ] Take a shot , Describe something you enjoy so much that it 's almost indescribable .	Question: Master, have you ever taken the time to stalk your target? Clarifying Statement: I do not mean to simply follow the meatbag until it is in the proper location, but to be able to know it so well that you know where it will be before it does. Boast: I have done this many times. No one suspects a Protocol Droid to be dangerous. This allows me the opportunity to watch them, to learn about them, and to finally end them when the time is perfect. My last assignment allowed me to do this, and I have never felt like I fulfilled my programming more. Recitation: `` HK, what are you doing here? I ordered you to entertain the guests.'' `` Statement: Yes master, but one of your guests wished for me to give something to you.'' `` What? Oh, yes. Thank you. Who was the guest who gave it to you?'' `` Statement: Kurt Habat entrusted me with that package... ... ... It is a neuro-toxin emitter, which releases a gas which will render you and anyone who enters this room unconscious and will become lethal with enough exposure. Condescending Question: Are you becoming drowsy, Master? Shall I go and fetch your wife, who only wanted you for your wealth and had a motive to end your life?'' Statement: Master, I do not think that even you would be able to get so close to a target, burdened as you are by your... frail and squishy frame.
[ WP ] A love story about a girl who does n't want to be in love .	A year and a half a go her whole world changed The young and the innocent ripped from it She lost the love of her life with but an accident to blame She cried for month not knowing if her restless heart could sit So came all the grief, overwhelming and intense The reminder of mortality and the questioning of God's Plan Unknowing and scared of the lack of sense Only taking comfort in heaven having a new man. Ever so slowly happiness could return to her heart but not love, love was too far, too hot, and too raw Hookups were fun, carefree as long as they were far apart But even those were shadows of what she once saw. Until she met me, she was interested in having fun Two years ago still hurt like yesterday His pictures still in her room sitting in the sun Knowing it was a fling she was quick to get laid But I struggled and struggled as I still do today For the girl scared to love because her heart is still raw I love her like hell and I'm more patient then I've ever been But I'm scared I'm still only a shadow of what she once saw.
[ IP ] She stared out into the depths of space .	The Black, The Deep dark, The void names given by people that did n't understand it. She understood it she knows the company of the void. When she sat here leaning against the rail made for people, people that did n't know The black. She had no drive no reason to live, she was just a number part of a caretaker generation, here to breed, die and pass the time. When she thought like that how could she love how could she live? The guys that passed by the tittering girls, how did they not see? The deep dark it understood. and sitting here alone against the vast emptiness of space completely alone.... she felt like she was understood. New to writing prompts advice tips all appreciated thanks for the prompt
[ WP ] A protagonist finds that they have the ability to determine what action they should take in any situation by experimenting with choices in an alternate world . What do they do with this new-found ability ?	I thought I was normal, I thought I was not unique. My life leading up to this was plain, stale, boring. Then again, not much to live. 17 years and it feels like I have not changed, but on my 18th birthday I developed a gift. Any choice I have to choose I know what the turnout will be, but abilities come at a cost. The night of my 18th birthday was a lightning storm. I remember it like it was yesterday. I wished for something different to spice up my life, and the moment I blew out my candle lightning struck the house. then, I passed out. for about 8 months I was in a coma. I was still somewhat conscious during this time, like REM sleep. I was dreaming, dreaming of all possible outcomes of my life leading up to it. It was sped up of course, going through 18 years of choices every choice was less then a second, but I remember them vividly, I also remembered what would have happened. I saw the good part of me that could have been, I also saw the bad. But, I woke up, 8 months later. I was confused of my surroundings, but I felt different, I saw with a tint of red. I felt like I was controlling multiple beings of me entirely, one that would scream, one that would go back to sleep, you name it. Finally, a doctor came in. `` Hello'' he said friendly `` You have been in a coma for 8 months..'' I looked shocked at him, has 8 months really gone like this? I told myself `` Do n't worry, we contacted your family. Sit back and watch tv ok?'' I watched the news, seeing the events I never heard of. It took around half an hour for my family to get there The next hour was tears of joy and celebration. But, the doctor came in yet again `` Hello again, we have much to discuss'' `` You see, on your 18th birthday lightning struck your house, a chain reaction happened that resulted in some members of your family, including you, got struck by it indirectly. Your vitals seem normal but, physical and psychological brain activity shows otherwise'' `` Your brain activity has grown immensely over the past half hour of observing your brain, it's like you're thinking of hundreds of things at once. It may be normal for people to think like this but you you are breaking records' Me? break records? How would they even know if i'm thinking a lot? Although im not a doctor so I do n't question `` Now physically, your eyes the moment they were struck were... changed... have a look'' I saw myself in the mirror, my eyes were one solid color, red. the eyeball was still white but every other part was a lightish red. `` What happend to me?'' `` We do n't know, your family is a special case'' `` Who else got struck?'' He did mention that I was not the only one I recall my party having my whole family over including uncles and aunts it could've been anybody `` Well..your dog did'' `` Fenrir?'' I named my dog after the mythological entity `` Is he ok?'' `` Hes fine, physically the lightning scarred his right eye. But the dog has seen to significantly grow in intelligence'' `` Carl'' I look over `` That was his first word, 6 months ago'' `` Yes, it seems your dog can comprehend multiple languages, and read. He is able to speak languages to people. He also solves near impossible math problems just to spend time'' `` I wan na go home'' I told him, and my family `` Ok'' hours of paperwork later, and I was finally home. I felt different, almost like I knew the best choices for what I want to achieve. Do I want to become rich and famous? My mind cycles through dozens if not millions of outcomes to give me the quickest route there. but `` cycling'' is an understatement, it's to the point where I recognize those attempts as memories. I can also sudo-see into the future. I only see my future though. I use this new found ability to solve problems, I have school to deal with so I do n't even need to study, I just go through all the choice I make to result in me getting an A. I also have my dog fenrir now, who was relieved to see me. In the 8 months he has been affected he has an iq of a middle aged adult, in around 10 years he becomes near omniscient able to solve any question, but, he died of old age. He kept the secrets of the universe in a journal and gave it to me in his will. It seems odd to say he had a will. His last year of life he was nearly human, of course he had setbacks with no thumbs but he had a house, a lab, bills to pay. He tried so hard to find out why or how we got these powers but that's the only thing he did not fully comprehend. But, one more person was affected that night, this particular person is a danger to humanity and must be stopped Unfortunately, that's not the story that is being told. This is the story about how I gained my newfound ability
[ WP ] Write Me a Narrative of an Ordinary/Extra-Ordinary Day WITHOUT Closure	I sat brooding on the bus stop bench. I missed my car. The sun was beginning to dance over the horizon. The smell of piss haunted the air, and the sound of birds was peppering the dawn. The bus still would not run for another forty-five minutes, and they were never on-time. I hadn ’ t taken a bus in over a year, and here I was waiting for one in the bowls of the ghetto. I spat at the ground and growled. In the background some wild haired, graying, dirty woman sang the most absurd song, only heard in a place where the wild and disregarded are left to wither from birth to death.
[ WP ] Jesus returns to discuss the kingdom of God but is struggling with this new concept called democracy .	Jesus: I have arrived to discuss the Kingdom of God, but I see there is a new governing system I had not seen last time I was here. What is this `` democracy''? Jesus' right hand human, Jonathan: Its a system where people decide on what to do by breaking off into groups, and seeing which side has more numbers. Jesus: So the winning side is the side who has more power by numbers? Jonathan: Yes, basically. There a different types of democracy, but that's basically it. Jesus: So might makes right, but with the twist that might can only come in the form of numbers? Jonathan: Yea that way we know that at least, the majority of people are happy. Jesus: So regardless of logic or morality, the majority wins? You do realize most people are stupid right? Jonathan: Yes Jesus: Uh huh? Ok yea, not thats hard to comprehend Jonathan: Yea I know, but people like to act like a 2000 year old barbaric political system is groundbreaking progress because they are on the side of the majority and want to maintain their power. Jesus: Now that, I understand THE END. Fala falal flalala llalla Fala lla la
[ WP ] In the near future humans have become a hive mind , lead by a few elites . Regular people have no independent thoughts or actions and yet you somehow manage to break free of this control .	I'm bored. The weight of this thought did n't have impact until a few minutes in. lift-shove-repeat. lift-shove-repeat. lift-shove-... I need to go to the bathroom? Instinctively I stand up and someone else sits down. Not because I asked him too; ofcourse, it's just the hive-mind that has instructed him to fill up the gap that was created by the need of my body to stand up and take a leak. But while I walk to the bathroom... Wait. Do I even know where the bathroom is? Where am I anyway? I'm at... work. Yes. That's what this is. I? I am. This is weird. A glance over the factory floor shows rows upon rows of same dressed people, with the same haircut, doing the same thing. lift-shove-repeat. lift-shove-repeat. But... What am I doing here? I look down and see a tattoo on my arm. 17014299X. That... is my unit designation? A movement to my left disturbs my thoughts: a security cluster checks the ranks. They have not noticed me yet. I take a few uneasy steps to the right, and see a sign; it's the toilet. My bladder reacts to this observation: NOW! So, I walk towards it. As I approach, the doors opens and a drone comes out, walks by me -guided by the hive mind- and pays me no attention. Once inside, I sink down onto the toilet seat. I'm sitting. The thought is weird. As if my brain is trying to comprehend what it is I'm thinking. And then it dawns on me. I am. I am. And I know who I am. My name is Charles Ommune. It is I who created the Hive. Like a bottle of champaign that has been uncorked, forced habits and simple, basic knowledge pours out of my brain, it all being replaced by my own memories and experiences... And a voice. `` You have awakened. There is not much time. Meet me.'' The voice sounds distant and familair, but I ca n't place it yet. But it's reassuring. And frightening. Because I am... in danger. And right now an invisible hand is guiding my brain to a location I did not have knowledge of when I was still we. As the memories come back, a blackness fills a certain portion. I become painfully aware that what is happening now, was not supposed to happen. While I exit the toilets, I see the security cluster busy checking the workers, not paying attention to me. As if they're explicitly guided away. I take the oppurtunity to make my way outside. I feel... alone.
[ WP ] You board a train , but you never get off	He arrived in the train after a very long trip. He came from a station, but not in the conventional sense. They gave him a room, a job and a sense of purpose, something that he had tried to imagine he had before. His task was to help keep the great metal Leviathan alive as it trudged onward on massive Titanium and steel rails. Grey stone marked the surroundings, with the ground pocked by countless craters and heated by a horizon-consuming sun. It stretched for miles, with a a dome of glass covering each carriage. His fellow engineers called it The Terminator, and lauded it as a marvel of human ingenuity. He believed them and spent his free time in the greenhouse gardens, looking out towards the wast expanses that encompassed his new home. This was the new frontier, they said, a new land for humanity to make their own. When he asked how they would would break in this new hostile land, they just shrugged and said: `` We'll make it work, we always do.'' He found his love after a few years in the train. She was a sweet native woman, whose feet had never touched solid ground. His stories of Earth mesmerized her, and her smile made blush and lose his trail of thought. She felt a bit boring compared to him, someone who had swam in the fabled Pacific and traversed the empty dark of space. He felt otherwise, as she made him happy, and made the train a home. A corporation approached him some time after his first daughter was born, praising his skill with the nuclear reactor powering the metal beast. They wanted him to travel off-world, but he declined, his lust for adventure sated. He had grown roots in a carriage that never stopped moving. He still went up to the observation deck when he could, bringing his children in tow. Every day gave a new landscape, and he would make up stories of adventures happening on the ground for his kids to enjoy. They listened eagerly, and interjected with their own when they could. Happiness filled him as they smiled and joked between them. The train would never reach its destination, forever crossing the planet, but he knew he had found his.
[ WP ] Life can now be extended indefinitely through regular injections but is not giving to the public . Instead , those serving multiple life sentences get the procedure to truly serve their terms .	The cancer masked her beauty and her body writhed in pain. The smell of disinfectant was strong. It was always stronger during the flare ups. Then everything calmed and she thought she had died and she was glad. Mommy would be sad, she thought. She was nine and life was fleeting, the painful struggle of the devouring disease. I feel sad, she thought. But she did not die. The pain had eased. The morning was hot and the world blurred between reality and the unreal, and she dreamed vividly. At lunch her body ached but today was a good day. She ate and there was a visitor. He was a stranger and there was a policeman with him and the policeman held him tightly. He was dressed in orange and bald and he was old and frail. `` Selena?'' the policeman asked. The nurse who fed her answered for her. She was in the know. They all were except for her. `` My name is Officer Goldsberg,'' the policeman said. `` I understand that you're very sick.'' And so she and the officer spoke. He was a good man and his heart broke and she saw his eyes tear up from her story and she felt embarrassed. They always made her feel embarrassed but she could not say so or else they would feel hurt. `` You're a brave girl,'' Goldsberg said. She knew that that ended the pleasantries. The man who had to be a prisoner was silent and he trembled from the cold of her ward. She felt sorry for him. Goldsberg pulled the man forward. `` This is Daniel DuBois,'' he said. The man nodded a hello and his eyes were not pitiful and she liked him more than Goldsberg. `` He's a criminal,'' Goldsberg said. `` I'm a bad man,'' DuBois said in a playful way and smiled at her. She could feel Goldsberg dislike for the man. Her nurse brushed her hair and said to her: `` There is a new program Selena. The government wants to bring these people to talk to those in hospitals and in nursing homes. It is a rehabilitation process. You know that word right? Re-ha-bili-tation. It means to make better.'' She nodded. She disliked when people talked down to her but she was small and she had grown used to it. Often the pain would stifle her anger. Today she would be patient. `` Is it okay if he talks to you then?'' Goldsberg asked. Daniel DuBois smiled. Why not? she thought. And so he sat by her bedside and the nurse left them but Goldsberg stayed and kept a hand on DuBois. The talk at first was stilted and purfunctory. `` Why are you in jail?'' she asked. `` Because I did a bad thing.'' `` You killed someone?'' `` Yes. Yes I did...'' `` When? Why?'' And he had changed and he was no longer playful but old and sad. `` Long ago. Very long ago. And why... There's never a good why. I think at the time I was a bad person. I was angry and hot tempered... The why of it is that I did n't make good decisions. I killed my friend over a girl. But that does n't do justice to his life.'' In the quiet Goldsberg pulled at him. There was a purpose to this all, Selena could tell. It was interesting and the cancer was asleep now, eating peacefully and killing her painlessly for the moment. `` How long is long?'' she asked. Daniel DuBois run his hand over his bald head. Long ago that head was full of hair. Long ago he did not tremble from the cold. `` One hundred and eighteen years ago,'' he said. `` That was in eighteen ninety nine,'' Goldsberg put in. She did not speak. She wanted to know why they were lying to her. What was this new game of the adults, of the able bodied against the weak? What were they doing. But she was smart and in her invalidness she had learned to read faces. Those faces told the truth. `` You're old then,'' she said. He smiled. `` Yes.'' `` How are you still alive?'' Daniel DuBois leaned closer and Goldsberg nearly yanked him. `` Because I deserve it,'' he said. There was a sadness in his voice that was unlike the pity she was accustomed to. This was not a sadness directed at her. This was the personal sadness of a man. The same sadness which ate at her when there were pieces of her remaining. `` What he's saying Selena is that there is a new treatment. An injection. Now I know that sounds painful, but it does n't hurt, it really does n't. It's an injection, and it can make you better. It can heal you and you'll...'' `` You'll live forever,'' DuBois said. He resigned in his chair and in his silence she thought he had died and thought it funny. What if he dies when they tell me I'd live forever? But he did not die. He looked up and smiled. `` It's true,'' he said. `` I did not believe it either, but trust me it's true.'' Goldsberg nodded. `` So I can get better?'' she asked. `` Yes,'' Goldsberg said and there was happiness in his voice, as if it were him to be healed. `` But you will live forever,'' DuBois said. `` Shut up now,'' Goldsberg said. `` Pay him no mind Selena. You can be cured.'' But she saw the man and how heavy he looked. Time had eaten at him and only a carcass remained. It reminded her of herself. Do I look like that? she wondered. Their eyes met and he smiled his sad smile. `` You're in pain,'' he said. `` I understand. So am I.'' `` But you do n't have cancer,'' she said. `` No, but I have life and nothing to live for.'' `` One more word and I will...'' `` No let him talk.'' `` Thank you. You're a brave girl. Truly brave for fighting this thing. I think you'll make the right decision.'' `` But what is the right decision?'' `` That's easy...'' `` No, I want Mr DuBois to tell me.'' Then they were quiet. The man searched for the words. `` I would wish to be you,'' he said. `` Not the pain, but I would wish to be able to die. I would wish to go to God and be judged by Him and go to Hell. I wish to go and see my mother once more and my brothers and maybe Henry, who I killed, and tell him I'm sorry. I would wish for relief. That would be my decision.'' The pain within was awakening. It was all too much and she felt as though she was lost in a storm. Lightning cornered her and her head flared in pain and she was drowning. We can end the pain now, she thought. We can end everything and be healed. But she looked at Daniel DuBois. `` I think you should do it,'' Goldsberg said. And she made her decision. I want an end to this pain. I want to be free. `` I'm sorry Officer Goldsberg, I do n't want it.'' The officer got up and yanked Daniel DuBois. `` What? Why? I... I will tell your parents. You ca n't... You are n't fit to make this decision... I knew this was a bad idea. We should have just...'' `` Just what? Given it to them without their permission? Damn them to be like me?'' He looked like he would hit the old man. `` I will tell your parents,'' he said instead and got up. Selena closed her eyes. The pain was coming strongly. She was drifting and going further and further into the sea. No one could save her. She was near now. The smell of the disinfectant was high and a fever broke. It's going, she thought. A hand was on her head and it was old and careful. `` Sleep well, child,'' Daniel DuBois said. `` Sleep well and long.'' And she slept forever.
[ EU ] A Whiterun Guard sees the Dragonborn steal a sweetroll but he got away , now that guard must chase them across Skyrim to bring the Dragonborn to justice .	Excerpt from Whiterun Guard Onmurormr Bronze-Thorn's Journal Middas, 15th day of Sun's Height The Dragonborn has done it again. She's stolen a sweet roll right from under my nose. I saw her in the Jarl's palace raiding the shelves as usual. Rabbit's meat and cabbage heads? No problem. Tomatoes and a whole round of goat's cheese? Fine, although a little weird. But that sweet roll on the little table in the corner? That was my sweet roll. Elsehi, my wife -my beautiful beautiful wife- made it for me. I had to leave it in the corner because it's against protocol to carry food while on patrol. I had been thinking of its sugared sweetness all morning when I came into the kitchen and saw tha-THAT THIEF! taking it off the shelf after taking the rest of the kitchen provisions. Will she even eat it today? I doubt it. It makes my blood boil. How could she miss the red note I left by it saying, `` Do n't touch.'' I will find her and I will make her pay... 1 gold to be exact. That sweet roll was priceless to me. Fredas, 17th day of Sun's Height My fellow guard, Hognskar, told me he heard she was going to Riften, but was stopping over in Ivarsted for a few nights. Ha! Just like a thief to hide in Riften. But, it has been nearly two days and I can not find her anywhere. I've even looked through the mill and houses. Nothing. But, I know she has been here. Temba Wide-Arm said she brought him 10 bear pelts just yesterday. Narfi told me he watched her stand in the road, perfectly still, for seven hours this morning as if she were waiting for something. Yet, I did not see her in the street upon awakening. How could I miss her? And is n't it strange that she did n't get a room at the inn? Surely a thief like her has the 10 gold to stay, but they say the Dragonborn only sleeps once a fortnight. If it is true, she wo n't be well rested and she'll be easy to capture. I'm moving on to Riften to find her. Loredas, 18th day of Sun's Height I had quite a long journey but it appears the Dragonborn has been here for a few hours. I heard her shouting from several kilometers away and tried to get here faster to stop her from committing more crimes. I wish shouting was a fineable offense. The stables master told me he was delighted to see her when she entered town this afternoon. I snorted in disgust. He does n't understand what a criminal she is. After talking to some townsfolk -scum really- I learned she is on an errand for Maven Black-Briar. I'll wait for her to return outside of the meadery. Sundas, 19th day of Sun's Height I'm so infuriated. I can barely contain my anger. The whole conversation is burned into my memory. I had found her. Finally found her! I said, `` By the order of the Jarl, stop right there!'' She turned to face me. `` You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people. What say you in your defense?'' And can you guess what she said? She said she was the Jarl's Thane and demanded to be let go at once. THANE? Unbelievable. The Jarl already has at least 62 Thanes and he seems to give that title out to about anyone who does him a small favor. Just last week he made a new Thane out of someone who brought him his favorite mead. And I ca n't do anything about it if a Thane commits a crime. I just had to smile and say, `` Oh, forgive me, Thane. I did n't realize it was you. We'll look the other way this time, but even the Jarl's influence has its limits. Be more careful.'' I felt like a complete fool. Now to go home and explain to Elsehi why my stomach has soured against sweet rolls. But rest assured Skyrim, I will be watching over you and vow to undo the injustices that the Dragonborn has committed against you. You will be redeemed and I will always be looking over you.
[ WP ] `` It started with sloths ''	It started with sloths. They had harbored the virus on that green mossy shit that grew all over them for however long they had been slow-creeping the jungle, or wherever the fuck they are from. Then the goddamned virus, just sitting there, giving them moss skin for eternity, jumps a letter or two in it's DNA and Bam! - fucker starts raging through every mammal on the planet. We though everyone was getting Mono at first, even the cats and dogs ( turns out the virus is a distant cousin of Mono ), but then that mossy shit started growing from us. Squirrels, racoons. All mammalian life slowed to a sloth's pace. Elephants die of thirst before making it to the next water hole. Anything smaller than a cat is a bird buffet. Nobody can fight the fires. The virus grows ever worse. It's taken me three days to write this, sitting in my bayou shack. It'll take me another two to crawl out there, pet an alligator, and let the lizards re-inherit the earth. Fucking Sloths...
[ TT ] While walking through the woods , you see a creature , unfamiliar to you , wounded . It begs for help .	I could n't understand what it said, but from the tears running down its face and its hand held out towards me, I assumed it needed some sort of help. Across the knee-high grass, I moved towards it, then knelt down beside it. It gripped its leg with both its hands, the muscles underneath its pale skin tightened while it continued to cry out in pain. I looked down at its leg, then shook my head. What could I do to relieve it? It shouted again in its unknown language. It put its arms together and rocked them side to side. After a few moments, I understood. Wrapping my arm underneath its two legs, and the other across its back, I heaved up onto my feet and turned towards where I came. The creature continued to cry, sobbing uncontrollably about its leg. I wished it would've stopped, honestly I did. The leg was hardly broken, and more so, it was now being rescued; why cry further? Its long blonde hair stuck to its damp face, while some strands dangled against my waist. By the guidance of its pointing and hand motions, we finally managed to break out from the woods, to where the creature came from. The oak trees and thickets and tall grass gave way to a grassy field that stretched for nearly a mile. As if by random, there were weird things that some creatures, like the one I held, sat on; they ate some kind of food, drink some sort of liquid, and they laughed, or conversed, in the creatures' foreign language. It pointed towards a group of other creatures to the right, three of them sitting on a checkered clothe. I strode across the grass, stood next to the three creatures, and set down the blonde-haired one. They did not greet me with kindness, they did not thank for me for my service, all they did was take out square devices and flashes of light blared out from tiny holes in them. Over and over again, relentlessly sending blinding light into my vision. I did n't know what to do, I felt a rage like I had never before, I wanted to rip the squares from their tiny little hands and smash them; but at the same time, I wanted to get away, put as much distance between me and them. I choose the latter. I turned and ran across the field, right back into the thick of the woods. Giant oak trees blurred passed me, thickets and underbrush flattened underneath my feet, chipmunks and squirrels darted away to both my sides. At last, I returned to my cave, hunched over and went inside. There I renewed my fire, sat down next to it, my rage subsiding, and thought about the creatures. Weird they were, with two legs, two arms, hairless besides what was on their head and face; puny things, arms like sticks and legs seemingly useless... The strangest thing of all was that they had two eyes instead of one, and their hands each possessed five fingers, while it was the norm to only possess two.
[ WP ] Mankind is on the precipice of worldwide immortality . Tell a story of one of the last people on Earth to die .	I was not the last birth but I will be the last death. These are my memoirs. I was born 98 years ago in a far different time, one week shy of the popularisation of the eternal elixer. It must be injected during the first week of an infants life in order to work and when it did, it promised eternal youth to prosper at the age of 25. When I was 7, I was introduced to my very first experience of fear. A vicious dog's chain had broken and it had chased me down the neighborhood. It remained barking at me with a snarl while I cried in a tree. When I was 13, I found myself feeling a very different type of fear, one of nervous anxiety. Susie I believe her name was, had been quite the apple of my eye and I would recall how I would duck in between classes to try seek her out. It had taken weeks of effort but in the end I had asked her on a date to the near prom. When I was 18, I felt the fear of unknowing, I was walking blindly into a world I knew nothing about, sailing a vast sea of life and misfortune that would come my way. I was scared but excited for all to come. When I was 30, I had rushed to the hospital, shaking in fear. My wife's water had broken early and I wa worried at what that meant. My son was born at just 8 months old, an infant so small I could fit him in my hand. When I was 57, I found I had a tumor growing in my brain, I was scared of my own imminent demise but I pulled through after an operation. My son, now a man visited me often and my wife, who was far more fair that I ever would be, had stuck by my side. When I was 73, my wife had filed for divorce, not out of love but out of desire, a woman whom looked as young as herself sought younger suitors and I suppose she just got tired of looking after my old self. I was scared of being alone. Now, I am 98. I have lived a full life of joy, pain, hope and regret. I have an amazing son and several beautiful grandchildren. I lament that I will die. I feel it coming soon, life escaping me. A man does not die when he is mauled by a rabid dog, nor when his body fails and not even when his heart is broken. A man dies when he is forgotten. And thankfully I have been blessed with a family that will remember always. Now I feel no fear, only acceptance at what is to come. - Randall, S
[ WP ] Reincarnation is real , and for some reason , you are the only soul who can remember their past lives . One day you die , and you are reincarnated as an alien for the first time .	Dying is hard. No joke, you never truly get used to the sensation of death, how diametrically opposite it feels to life. It's a feeling that chills your soul and eats away at your sense of self. Perhaps most people are blessed then, with their inability to recall what happens each time they bite the dust. Living is easy. Maybe it's the presence of a physical body, maybe it's the company, but I really preferred living to death. It was a fun little routine, being born and growing to maturity, using the knowledge of my past lives to rapidly advance through the world. I was n't smart to begin with, but stick around for thousands of years and you tend to pick some stuff up. Death hurts. My latest death was truly unfortunate. I was in the prime of my life, having just celebrated my 14th sweep and my darling Terria had just said yes to my courtship proposal. Additionally, I finally got the loan for the new mansion on Cygnus VII approved. Things were looking perfect, then the sky elevator snapped and the rest was history. Life rocks. I open my eyes, wondering what gestation ward I would awaken in. My most memorable awakening was during the great Klovo Wars, where I was born in the middle of an artillery bombardment and died 6 minutes later. Above me I see sterile white. Something is wrong, I think to myself. White is the colour of war, not childbirth. Around me I hear weird murmurs, some strange tongue I have never heard before. I lift my arms and notice that I am missing a pair, and to my horror my skin is a disgusting shade of peach. A giant figure looms above me, an alien of some sort. A nametag hangs around his throat, he has the rank of `` Jacob Flinley'' and the name of `` Doctor''. I open my mouth to scream but all I hear is Waaaaaaahhhhhh.
[ WP ] It 's seven days before a full blown pandemic . Reports are starting to come in from social media and the news . What 's happening ?	Uhhhggghhhh. I do n't want to get out of bed. # sickday. Ashley lived alone. This was the last anyone heard from her, her last tweet. This could have been a joke last year but know it happens all the time. Ashley was the first to die of the The Sickness. Sitting out Thirsty Thursday, who gets the f lu in August? # Ebola # Sideline # Netflix Jim died two days later. He drowned in his own bed. A cold cant keep me out the club! # toofly # unstoppable # LA # Indaclub Kim effectively killed half the human race, she got on a plane the next day with The Sickness. ( Report from ISS. Last Humans alive. )
[ WP ] You just murdered someone and now you try your best to nonchalantly get back home to get rid of the murder weapon , but the problem is you seriously suck at keeping a low-profile when your nervous .	My hands were sweaty. Like that slippery kind of sweaty where you can ’ t just wipe it off. The kind of sweaty where people think you have some fucking disease or some shit. It made gripping the two-foot lead pipe I just used to murder Alan with annoying difficult to grip. Stupid Alan. I told him to leave my cereal alone but the asshole just wouldn ’ t have it. Well, fuck him! Fuck him and his cereal appropriating ways. I had picked a good place to murder him too. Down in the boiler room of the city stadium. With a lead pipe. It ’ d be weeks before they found him. But the pipe… I couldn ’ t just leave the murder weapon at the scene—I ’ ve seen CSI, I know how they can trace it back to me— so I brought it along with me. I left the boiler room right after I omeletted his brains and tried to make my way out of the stadium. “ Fucking shit, ” I muttered under my breath as I rounded the same area again. This damn stadium is circular! And all the main exits have security. There must be a more quiet exit somewhere… BING BING. “ Shit. ” The bell for half time. Next thing I knew people poured out from the insides of the stadium in the outer ring where I was. Where all the washrooms and shitty food was. Where people would be wondering why I ’ m walking around with this lead pipe— `` Jim! Jim is that you! ” I turned my head to see a tall, large man with balding head approach me, arms outstretched. He hugged me and facially flinched. He had a five o ’ clock shadow and beady eyes that where greater beadified by the thick glasses he wore. I wanted to whack him with leady. That ’ s what I named the lead pipe. “ Jim! Don ’ t tell me you don ’ t remember me? ” I looked at his face then at his terrible Hawaiian shirt then back at his face. His oval, double chinned face. “ I.. sorry? Listen I ’ ve got to— ” “ It ’ s me! Jeffrey! Jeff! ” “ I don ’ t know any fucking Jeffs man, ” I pushed him away. The sweat was building above my brow and my nervousness was escalating. His family cut my exit off. `` Jim! Jim! ” his wife seemed to babble at me. “ What?! ” I said. “ Hi Jim! It ’ s Jeff! ” she pointed to her husband again. I looked at his stupid face. Then I looked at leady. Then back to the wife. “ I don ’ t know you people. ” Jim came back and slapped me on the back. “ Mark, we taught English in Cambodia for a year! ” `` I ’ ve never left the states. ” The grip on leady was increasing. “ Mark this is my husband Jeff! ” the wife exclaimed again. “ Bitch I heard you the first time, I ’ m not fucking deaf. ” She recoiled in terror at my offensive remark. “ Hey now you left here, ” Jeff moved in front of my wife, brushing against leady. “ Ah look now you got ketchup on my leg… wait a second. ” Jim took a squinty eyed look at his pants then at leady. “ Jim is that.. blood. ” The man nearly fainted. “ Jim this is my husband Jeff! ” the wife squealed again. “ Bitch! ” I swung leady towards her chest, leady crushed her ribs. “ I fucking said, ” I threw leady up into the side of Jeff ’ s face, the quiet sound of cartilage shifting. They both dropped to the ground. “ I don ’ t fucking know any— oh shit I do! Hey Jeff! What ’ s up man? ” I was later arrested and charged with 2nd degree murder. Sentenced for life without parole in San Buraries Prison down in Los Alamos.
[ IP ] Knight Caught in a Blizzard	All that passed through his mind was failure. He took little notice to his situation; a harsh, almost despising wave of snow that blindingly surrounded his enormous frame, clinging and freezing to his armor whilst he slowly tried to prod through, but his injuries were significant; his pride diminished. How could he have been defeated by her? Such a little girl she was; he towered over her mightily, it should ’ ve been a terrifying sight for her, but it wasn ’ t. There was something about her eyes that were particularly unpleasant for Leonus; eyes that had seen and experience more than a girl her age could ’ ve possibly have witnessed. It was his job, his duty as a Perilous Knight to quell unrest in the outer towns. Only one was usually needed for such skirmishes, and he in particular was Leonus the Vicious; equipped with the strongest anti proton ray armor and sharpest alloyed sword known in the Empire of Idai. The girl should have been an easy kill; one not even worthy of the point of his blade; her sharp, piercing blue eyes, her pitch dark short hair, her tanned scratched skin. She stood before him at the town defiantly, weapon held firm; not a semblance of fear in her youthful visage, as if she had known battle her entire life. He let out a grunt as he momentarily left his thoughts, and came back to his current situation as he continued his tumultuous trudging through the deep, snowy, volatile mass that was his surroundings. He could feel his wounds begin to compromise him with each step, slowly making it harder for him to navigate. He whelped, thinking of his wife Lenore, his daughter Netaria, and his son Leonus the Second. He wanted to apologize, so very much did he want to tell them that he was sorry. He had failed to be the warrior they ’ d known; the feared one, the brave; he was so afraid, frightened by the wounds he had accrued from a girl no older than his teenaged daughter. He wasn ’ t prepared for her swiftness; how easily she was able to avoid his blows, how accurate her strikes would be, nor how special that peculiar glowing blue blade clenched tight in her hand was; it carved into his armor as a knife through cake, causing him to let out an audible, uncontainable moan as a warm sensation dug through his gut. He fell to his knees at her feet. She said nothing; there was no sense of pride, no sense of satisfaction; just a glare, an uncaring one. He was a problem to be neutralized, and she had done that. She didn ’ t bother with another blow, she simply left him there at the outer gates of the small town, walking calmly away as her hair blew across her face and the snow storm rapidly rushed in with fury all around him; he shuttered as he rose to his feet in agony. Now he was in the middle of nowhere, feeling himself losing consciousness, which left him in a startled panic. It wouldn ’ t be long now; his body crashed to its knees, his whole body becoming numb; tears flowed down his helmet covered face as his head drooped; his teeth clenched, his fists balled tightly. “ Lenore, Netaria, Leonus….my sweet boy….my sweet, sweet family…I…I ’ m so, so sorry; forgive me, ” he mumbled; to the loud whistle of volatile winds which coated the skies as his body became still. His consciousness faded; his last desire; that his sorrow, his apologetic thoughts, reached those he cared for with all his heart, for he was now no longer the vicious or the brave; nothing but an empty shell on the harsh frozen tundra of Idai.
[ WP ] : A 92-year-old woman 's phone number is one digit away from that of a local suicide hotline . She could have it changed , but she does n't mind .	Claire had never quite taken a fancy to the wallpaper that adorned her room, the only solace was the fresh bouquet of her favorite flowers, forget-me-nots. They added just the right amount of color to the otherwise dull and colorless room. It was an afternoon just like any other, a cup of warm tea in her hand, her bottom comfortably seated in her lounge chair, about to start the TV to watch her soap opera when the phone rang. Perplexed, she set the remote down and picked up. `` Hello?'' she asked out, her voice quiet. `` I'm so tired-'' the voice croaked out, the man on the other line barely holding in a sob. `` I just want it all to end.'' the man paused, Claire silently listening for him to continue `` I will, I'll end it now!'' he added, firmer this time. `` What happened, dear?'' she dared ask, a genuine hint of worry hidden behind her trembling voice. Claire waited, patiently listening to the other person sob into the receiver, his sniffles and breathing the only way for her to know that he was still on the line. `` You can talk to me, I'm listening.'' she encouraged. `` I just-'' he let out a heavy sigh `` I feel so empty, so beaten. No one cares either, they did at first, they would try to comfort me, to tell me to keep hanging in there, but after a while, I guess it just became too tiresome for them.'' he paused, shortly before adding `` It'd be easier for everyone if I just died already.'' `` Things can change, young man. I've lived ninety-two years and if there's one thing I know, it's that things change. And if things do n't change, then you make them change.'' she spoke out, softly. `` You can change things, do n't just hang in there, you hold on and start changing the burdens that weigh you down, one burden at the time.'' she encouraged, this time with more fervor in her voice. The young man let out a soft sigh, his even breaths filling the silence before he replied in a barely audible murmur `` I'm so tired though... so very tired.'' The sound of a small wheel spinning could be heard, and then a quiet click. He paused again, Claire waiting for him to continue. `` Thank you.'' he replied, his tone lighter, a hint of relief even `` Thank you for having listened to me.'' he added, bittersweet. Claire wanted to answer but a knock on her door interrupted her, the door sliding open and a young woman dressed in white scrubs pushed in a small cart `` Miss Claire'' she clucked her tongue and shook her head walking towards her and grabbing the receiver from her hand, putting it back `` How many times have I told you the phones do n't work. If you want to make a call, you have to come to the reception.'' The nurse's words did n't matter, Claire had heard it, she had heard it. Right before the nurse hung up, she had heard the very same gunshot that had killed her son 40 years ago.
[ WP ] A father gets sucked into the world of his son 's favorite video game and has to rely on his meager knowledge of it to survive .	`` I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow in the knee.'' What? I stood atop a steep, winding set of stairs with a breathtaking view of a charming town. Every building was adorned with yellow roof tiles and horse sculptures, beautiful in their uniformity. At the bottom of the stairs was a small but quaint courtyard, and at the center stood a giant tree, full of radiant pink blossoms that seemed to emanate waves of healing. I remember buying my son this game, but I never knew it could be this visually stunning. `` No lollygagging,'' the guard droned, hands at his side, motionless. I figured it was as good a time as any to just walk and explore. As I took my first step down the stairs my ears were immediately assaulted by what seemed to be some priest shouting a ridiculous sermon. Something about a Talos. What the hell is Talos? Hmm, I thought, probably should stay away from that guy. He's probably like a Jehovah's Witness equivalent. Then, upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, I felt a sudden tap on my shoulder. I turned my head to see a woman dressed in old and skimpy armor, with green streaks of paint seemingly splashed on her face. And why the hell did she smell like Buster? `` Where were you, Shield-Brother? We needed you in our time of need and you were n't there.'' Before I had a chance to even think, a set of dialogue options suddenly popped up in my vision. It was probably a better idea to select one of those rather than to reveal my complete and utter confusion. I'm married. I've learned my lessons. `` I was on a task given to me by the Harbinger,'' I went, crossing my arms to emphasize the righteousness of my plight. But before she could motion over to the dead bodies laying not ten feet from the courtyard, I was suddenly spun around 180 degrees to another dialogue, this time with three bandit-lookalikes with weapons drawn. Was I going to fight these guys? `` We're here to teach you a lesson.'' Wait. What? No dialogue option? Not a chance to just talk it out like civilized people? A red bar suddenly flashed on the top part of my view, and before I could think about drawing a weapon, a sword flashed before me and slashed at my midsection. I had never been slashed by a sword before. The sensation of pain I felt was akin to the most massive paper cut one could imagine. My hand pressed against my inadequate steel armor, feeling the warm trickle of blood oozing out. Clearly I was not at a very high level. Another red bar flashed on the bottom of my view. Was that my health? It was a third of the way gone and two other swords were coming straight for me. Panic set in. I had to run. From my original view at the top of the city, I noticed the city gates down at the bottom, so my goal was to just get the hell out of there. I flew downhill, running past all kinds of weird beings: not only guards and other humans, but elves, lizard-like folk, and some weird cat-being with a tail. If someone was n't trying to kill me, I might've stopped to chat a bit, but then again, this just was n't the time for lollygagging. Finally bursting through the city gates, I collapsed to my knees to catch my breath. Why was I being chased by a bunch of thugs? Why were n't the guards helping me out? And more importantly, was I self-regenerating? Then, I heard it. The distinct pounding of drums and the chants of an all-male choir permeated the air. Then the music came. B-C # -D, D-E-F #, F # -A-E, D-C # -B... My head slowly turned towards the sky. A giant winged behemoth was in the distance, coming straight towards me like a missile. A dragon. `` Dammit, I should've just gotten him the newest installment of Call of Duty.''
[ WP ] A leet hacker attacks the mainframe . Challenge : Make it obvious the writer has no idea how computers work .	The world ran on a mainframe. It had for as long as anyone could remember. In this technologically stagnated society, everything still ran Ubuntu Server 14.04. And it was perfect, and static, and comforting. Until someone tried to break in. He did n't get far. Netfilter did nothing to keep him out, though. He was into the mainframe before anyone knew it. He had a bash prompt, and he set to work. He tried to su to root, and he failed. He tried to get into /etc/shadow and use a painstakingly crafted hash database, and failed. Nothing he could do could save his ill-fated attempt. His IP was traced, using traceroute and a clever application of GeoIP. Elites broke down the door of the first hacker in 70 years and quickly yanked him from the simple laptop he had been using, albeit heavily reprogrammed. A new Linux distro was created, and installed onto the mainframe. Converting the data took ages, but it was worth it. And nobody ever used a Linux console again.
[ WP ] After dying , you 're shown a `` Choose Your Own Adventure '' style decision tree which highlights all the paths your life could have taken should you have made various different choices . You spend all of eternity analyzing this tree , only to finally realize that something just is n't quite right .	Decades of anxiety, hard work, hardship, and untimely death - an entire life's worth is now laying before my eyes from end to end. I'm face to face with my own life, the remnants of my former self, which is now nothing more than a single document. The memories of my friends, family, lovers - this is all that has amounted from the measly 20 years that I spent trying to figure out what to do with my life, only for it to be cut short as I was returning from work on one late night. With the passing of time, the events of my last day have become hazy, but regardless of how it happened, it would n't have changed the fact that I am longer living. All I remember as I was in my last moments is the unbearable pain that I felt surging through me. I fell to the floor, and I could n't move. I could n't hear anything around me, and as the pain continued to dig into my insides my vision began to fade. In the next moment, the pain suddenly disappeared and I was surrounded by nothing. I would have been convinced that my vision had n't returned, had it not been for the pile of papers that was placed in front of me. As I turned my head in every direction, searching for the smallest sign of life, I was able to see that I was surely alone. With nothing left to do, I decided to take a brief glance through the only thing that was keeping me company - an unknown set of documents that seemed to have been forgotten, just like I had been. I grasped the pile in my hand, and I noticed that it was in fact a single sheet of paper, the sheer size of which made me wonder the need to create such a large page. As I examined the contents of the paper closely, it seemed to be a diagram tree that detailed the events of someone's life. As I continued to read, something about the account felt very familiar. Without any way of telling time, I'm not sure for how long I continued reading until I became aware that this was a diagram of my own life. I returned to the start of the document, and to the best of my ability I began to track the decisions that I had made in my life. Whenever I arrived at a significant point of my life, I was able to vividly recall how I felt. The vision of my father's funeral appeared before me, as if I was seeing it again for the first time. Once again, I felt the tears running down my cheeks, even though they had long since dried. I continued through until it finally came to an abrupt end. After having seen my own death for a second time, I put the paper down as I processed everything. I wanted to know who it was that had left this diagram behind, and for what purpose. Above all, I wondered how my life could have gone if I had made different decisions, so I returned to the paper. Whether it had been a few minutes or several centuries, I read through every possible choice that was present. I wanted to know every ending that was available to me. With each one, I was able to see the events unfolding before me, as if I was witnessing these nonexistent memories being created. The further I strayed from my own timeline, the more I was introduced to an innumerable amount of new people. I scanned through every possible choice, and along with each one I felt the joy, pain, and anxiety of each moment, as if I were living through an endless number of lives. While I was exposed to a large amount of heartache, as I read I still enjoyed this false sense of living that I was experiencing. While I was fascinated by how vastly different some of the lives were, I noticed one thing that seemed to remain consistent. After the first few times that I saw it, I did n't thing anything unusual about it. As far as I knew it seemed like it was by coincidence, but several lifetimes assured me that it seemed to be calculated. In every single iteration of my life, I always met the same end. Whether it was by fire, drowning, suffocation, medical complication - the various ways in which I died varied from ordinary to creatively bizarre. Regardless of how it happened, it seemed like I always seemed to die by the age of 20. The result of some decisions would extend my time by as much as a few months, but it seemed I would always face an inevitable end. As I despaired at finding out the fact that I was destined to die at this age, I felt a cold presence behind me and I slowly let go of the diagram. Behind me was a figure whose towering figure prevented me from making any sort of movement. They did n't have any features on their face, but I could tell that they were staring at me. It seemed like they had been waiting for me to read through the document, and now they were meant to take me somewhere. I did n't know if they were likely to give me an answer, but there was no way that I would allow him to escort me anywhere otherwise. `` What does this mean? Was there any point to any of this if everything ends the same. Is there any real choice if everything is already decided?'' The only response that I received is a cold stare. The figure merely continued to gaze at me as I awaited any form of acknowledgement of my questions. The only thing that it did is extend its hand to me, but I refuse to allow it to ignore my question. `` Goddamn it, answer me! I want to know what this is supposed to mean, and I'm not going anywhere until I find out.'' With this, it turned its head in a different direction, and then looked back at me. It meant to tell me that we were to head that way. It began to walk, and I was unsure of how to proceed as it tried to lead me into unknown territory.
[ WP ] You are on howmanypeopleareinspace.com when suddenly the number changes from 6 to 6,000 .	& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Darren stared at the screen in disbelief. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Fuck, not the website, he thought. Darren pulled up his Macbook Air and proceeded to log on with his administrative privileges. But nothing was amiss. Nobody had logged on before his last check in. He looked back to the desktop, and saw the number begin to rise. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' What is going on?'' he asked to the air. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; His phone rang. An unknown number. Darren instinctively picked up the device and put it to his ear. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Hello?'' Darren asked. No reply came. Instead, Darren was treated to a low, hoarse breathing, like a serial killer from a B-movie. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Who the fuck is this,'' Darren demanded. He was not having it. `` Chris?'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Oh fuck, how'd you know it was me?'' answered a familiar voice. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Chris, did you bork my website?'' Darren asked. The number on the screen was now climbing at exponential levels, a virtual blur of motion against a static background photo of the Earth. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Maybe.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Jesus, Chris, give me my website back.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Did you check the URL?'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Darren hesitated. He looked to the top of the desktop screen. It said howmanypeopleareinspace.com instead of howmanypeopleareinspacerightnow.com. He heard laughter emitting from his phone. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Dude, I wish I could see the look on your face right now,'' Chris said. `` That domain was worth it.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Fuck you, Chris,'' Darren answered. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Chris laughed louder. `` Maybe another time. Come on, think of how many people we can fuck with this thing! Now quit yer lurkin' and get outside. Let's go to the beach.''
[ WP ] The sky would make you think the world is ending .	The sky would make you think the world is ending. It was normal to see that, just happens every morning. The dark expanse of stars take up the evening. They wane into the spark of dawn, crescendoing into an overpowering brightness of a new day. This particular day is the same as every other before it, and any other after. Beings are born today, the first day of many. Many others die, the last day of few. All expierence second upon glorious second, leading to the next event on the timeline. This sky looks like the world is ending for a reason... it is. The fusion reactor which brings energy to this speck winds down. Red light seeps everywhere. The temperature rises, the atmosphere burns off now. If life has infected this spore, it will soon be cleansed. The silent expanse watches this tragedy unfold. Too late. Someone blinked and its gone. Illions of stories locked into the perspectives of the uncountable denizens are lost. No one remotely cares about this speck. There are plenty more, nothing extraordinary. This looks the same as any other day possible.
[ WP ] `` I fell in love with you again today , but I know better than to try and change your mind . ''	I fell in love with you again today. That's not really all that true because I never fall out of love with you. I go home and think of you. I hear your voice on commercials, see your face in random passers by. My heart races, my hands sweat. But it's never you. It's never you in the office, leaning over the side of my cubicle and winking. It's never you making a new pot of coffee. I know better than to try and change your mind. I know better than to try to woo and engage you. I watch you laughing, pushing your hair back behind your ear. I think about the wedding we would never have. I think about the Christmases we would never share. I wonder why not me? I weigh the pros and cons of him and not me. It wo n't ever be me. Someday I'll realize that. Someday I'll realize it's no ones fault. It's not because of me or because of you. It just is. But for now, I will still look at you across the office, and wonder what could be.
[ WP ] Body Odor	`` I think it's coming from...'' - she lowered her voice and nodded her head to the left - ``... from over there.'' Our table erupted with laughter. I turned to where her head nodded, my eyes landing on a small man with thinning hair, tiny glasses, and a baggy, unkempt suit, shifting nervously in his seat. He sat alone at his table, though most tables' occupants had moved to a small, open space, dancing slowly, like ghosts waltzing through water. The small man turned his head to our table and gave us a meek nod. The table broke up with laughter again. The man smiled nervously and looked away. My table began taking bets on who this man was as I turned my attention back to the him, watching as he placed his nose to his sleeve. His jaw shifted slightly, then he reached for a flower from a vase at the center of the table. He placed it in his breast pocket and smelled himself again. `` I think he's one of Aaron's workers, maybe.'' `` Or that unfortunate uncle Laura tells us about.'' The table continued with their theories until an announcement that the bride and groom were about to cut the cake. As guests returned to their seats at the small man's table, each of them glanced at him, then quickly looked away. He smiled at them, receiving no acknowledgement in return. His lips went straight, then he stood and made his way toward the room's exit. I followed him out. I watched him as he made his way down the hotel hallway. I watched him watch everyone's face scrunch up, some with their mouths hanging open, as he passed them. I watched him as he walked to and through the door of the men's washroom. I found him in the washroom, staring at the mirror, the sink running. `` Nice wedding, is n't it?'' `` Sure is.'' `` I'm Paul Jarman, I'm friends with Aaron... the groom.'' `` Leo Coleman. I... I was engaged to Laura a few years ago.'' We shook hands. `` Were you? What happened?'' `` She.... She got cold feet on our wedding day. She called it off. Then she met Paul and.. well... we're here.'' I nodded. We shared a few moments of silence, then Leo reached into his pocket and pulled out a photograph, sending one of his timid smiles my way for good measure. `` Here. This is me on our wedding day.'' I looked at the photograph and my toes went numb. There was Leo with that smile on his face. That smile. There was Leo with that loose suit hanging from his body. That suit. `` I decided to wear the suit... You know... In honor of her. I've been wearing it a lot lately. Have n't really taken it off much, lately. Have n't had much time to give it a wash or anything, but I thought it was important that I wear it. For her.'' I nodded, smiled sincerely as I could, and returned Leo's photograph. Leo slid it back into his pocket and put his arms under the running water. He began splashing the water around his jacket, giving it a quick wash. `` Enjoy, Leo.'' `` Thanks, Paul. You do the same, wo n't you?'' `` Sure, Leo.'' I left the washroom, wiping off the tiny beads of sink water Leo had accidentally specked onto my suit.
[ WP ] Run . Wherever you are , write yourself getting the hell out of there - escaping as far as possible , by any means necessary .	I sat in the cold airport, diddling with my phone, trying to blow time before I was called for boarding. A voice in out terminal came on. `` Attention all passengers boarding flight 1567 to Montreal, it has come to out attention that we have overbooked the 3:35 flight by six seats. If any passengers with flexible travel schedules would be willing to give up their seat for today's flight in exchange for tomorrows flight, we have a ticket worth $ 1300 good for anywhere, dinner, and a hotel stay for tonight for you. Thank you for your cooperation.'' I stood up, looked at my travel partner and walked to the desk. I would not be meeting him in Montreal tomorrow morning.

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