prompt
stringlengths 5
331
| story
stringlengths 404
40.3k
|
|---|---|
[ WP ] Colossal gears grind and moan as they begin to turn into motion . A small light at the center propagates and begins to flicker . Your heart sinks . The Global Machine has been activated .
|
The Global Machine.
Construction commenced in the late 2070s at the command of the Reformed United Nations Committee. Forty years, twenty-two days and nine hours later, I watch the holo-screen mounted high on my cell wall along with the thirteen other inmates stocked like sardines inside of this 8x10 concrete prison.
Someone's fat presses into my spine. An arm knocks me roughly to the side, where I ram painfully into another prisoner. Though we are cramped, however, we are all silent, our eyes glued to the holo-screen as if magnetically attracted to the shaky picture.
A blurry image of an International Senator flickers onscreen. I do n't know who he is until ticker tape runs along the bottom, declaring him as Robin Decorum, the very man who proposed the Global Machine's construction. He is smiling with every single one of his perfect white teeth, and, though I know he has nothing to do with it, I curse him internally for the eight I've lost since being imprisoned in this shithole.
`` Today, ladies and gentlemen of every country on Earth, I announce to you the successful completion of the Global Machine, which is finally complete and ready for activation.''
I hate the curve of his lips as he speaks. His disgusting tongue as it flops lazily in his mouth. I want to rip it out of his head.
`` As you all know, Earth is a spectacular place full of opportunities and successes.''
Bullshit.
`` However, unlike the majority of Earth's citizens, some have chosen to disobey international law. Some have chosen to become criminals who use the pain and misfortune of others in order to further their own selfish agendas.''
Bullshit bullshit bullshit. I attacked an International Defense Officer who was arresting a seven year old kid for throwing rocks. Yeah, I nearly killed him. But he nearly killed me first.
I was charged with assaulting an IDO.
And terrorism.
Then I was sentenced to five life sentences in one of 19 million International Penitentiaries.
`` The number of criminals has been exponentially increasing over the last fifty years. Now, our prisons are overcrowded, unregulated, and dangerous for the guards working within. The amount of resources we have wasted on maintaining the health and well-being of these prisoners is astronomically high.''
Bullshit again. I watched No. 33241 starve to death last week.
`` That is why the creation of the Global Machine is so significant. Because, for the first time ever, Earth can be a place free of crime and criminals. The Global Machine terraformed by the Reformed United Nations is perfectly capable of housing every one of the billion criminals stationed in penitentiaries on Earth.''
It's going to happen. They're going to ship all of us out of this shithole and literally *to another planet*. So they do n't have to deal with us anymore.
`` The self-sustaining Global Machine, once activated, will require no further assistance from Earth. Once the prisoners are released there, it will be possible for them to survive due to the fertile environment. We will not contact them in any way other than to deliver necessary resources such as medical supplies and foodstuffs. In other words, they will no longer plague Earth's financial resources.''
The speech is greeted with thunderous applause. Us inmates are silent.
The holo-screen flashes again, to reveal the Global Machine itself. Colossal gears grind and moan as they begin to turn into motion. A small light at the center propagates and begins to flicker. My heart sinks. The Global Machine has been activated.
No. 1553233 grins. `` We're getting back our freedom. Finally.''
Some inmates seem to agree, sharing his enthusiasm. But most of us are shellshocked. I see more than one tear.
`` To the WALL!'' A guard screams from outside.
We all struggle, shoving ourselves in bunches against the far wall to the cell. Hands up, feet apart. I'm stepped on countless times, but none of us care. None of us want to get shot for disobedience.
`` We're taking you to transport one at a time.'' Something jams painfully into my back. It's probably a gun.
`` You first. Put your hands behind your back.''
I do it. The metal handcuffs are cold and too tight. I'm escorted by one of the guards out of the cell, down a dimly lit hallway. The smell is horrendous. It's a mixture of shit, vomit, sweat, and blood. Cells lining the hallway are packed with prisoners. None call out to us- they know they'll be punished if they disobey. There are a billion prisoners on this planet, and not a single one of them will disobey.
We reach a small room. It is dirty and unfurnished.
`` Get on your knees.'' The guard orders.
`` Wait, what? I though I was being transferred-'' His gun connects with my jaw and knocks me sideways. I shut the hell up and do what he says, face throbbing in pain.
My guts churn. What's going on?
`` You're all disgusting, every single one of you. But they're even worse, are n't they?''
I do n't respond, I just look up at the him. I'm about to piss myself. What is going on? Is this the transport?
`` The Global Machine.'' I finally say. `` How am I going to get there?''
This time, the guard's reaction is unexpected. Instead of attacking me, he grins and lets out a violently stirring laugh. He's so loud that it shocks me, and I jump.
`` The Global Machine? Oh, boy. You bought that shit. You think that the government is gon na build themselves a new planet and then put *prisoners* up there? Hell no. There's not enough money on all of Earth to terraform shit.''
I'm shivering. I hope that I'm wrong about what comes next. I pray a silent prayer that I am wrong about what comes next.
`` The only thing this government had enough money for was bullets. About a billion of'em.''
He cocks his gun.
|
[ WP ] An older more experienced cat , instructs the new family kitten on the nuances of living with humans .
|
`` Oh, so you the new guy, eh?''
`` Uh, yeah, new guy here.''
`` Well ai n't that a trip. Ey Ginger, get a load of dis guy. How long you think he'll last?''
`` I dunno Butch. The owner, she likes'em cute like Fresh Meat over here.''
`` Yeahhhh I guess you're right. Still, kid, you better watch youself around here. This ai n't no pet store no more, got it? These are the big leagues, kid. So if you take my advice, and stay da fuck out of everyone's way, you'll do just fine.''
`` I'm just here for the free food...''
`` Aha! See that was what I t'ought when I joined up, too. But see, they do n't tell you'bout the rest of it. They do n't tell you'bout the cuddlin', the baby talk, the pain-in-my-ears bell toys. Do n't those things just take the cake, eh Ginger? Damn bells just keep ringing, no matter how many times ya swat'em.''
`` They give the wife migraines. I been tellin' her not to get involved, to let the tomcats handle it, ya know? But you know the ol' lady. Just has to get her paws on everything.''
`` Ayyy but that's why she's such a good wife, if ya know what I mean! But anyways, back to my point. Kid, there's a system here, and you better stick to that system like glue! Glue! You hear me? Otherwise, I'ma stick it to ya, if ya know what I mean. You listenin' to me, pipsqueak?''
`` System, glue ( Glue! ), paws on everything.''
`` Better watch it with that lip o' yours. No tellin' what kind of... trouble... it could get you into.
Anyways, where was I?''
`` Trouble.''
`` That's right, trouble! See, me, I'm what they call the alpha male. I get first dibs on all the goods comin' our way, got it? That means all the catnip goes through ME first. I get the comfiest spot on the playhouse, no ifs ands or buts, understand? And if you even THINK about touchin' my Ted, well... you's got another thing comin'.''
`` Ted? Well, no worries: I do n't swing that way''
`` Hey! I ai n't gay! Tell'im Ginger.''
`` Ted's a stuffed bear, kid.''
`` That's right! And you best remember that,'cuz I also get first pick o' all the dames who come our way, got it? If I ever see you struttin' yo stuff in front of any o the ladies, you gon na get an open-clawed slap to the pretty face! And that's a promise.''
`` He means it, kid.''
`` Yeah yeah, I get it.''
`` Uh huh, sure ya do. Well listen, if you ever get any ideas, make sure you ask Snowdrop who gave him those bald spots. He'll tell ya. Anyways, beat it kid. I got sunbathin' to do.''
``....Why'd you ask about'im, Butch? Kid's got wit, I'll give'im that.''
`` That idiot? He'll be a stray by the end of the week.''
|
[ WP ] Due to the wonders of modern technology , a kid actually grows up to be a firetruck .
|
**GCA Report, 4-101. Terradate: March the 7th, 2338. **
*Personal Account of Captain Riyan Bern. *
Concerning the colonization of rocky planets...
The planet Mars, and the planet formally known as'Mercury', submitted decades ago. Self-sufficient human settlements thrive on both planetary surfaces. And the extent of mankind's colonial achievement is easily demonstrated by the Martian megalopolis, *Sojourner*. Even the great cities of Old Earth seem pale in comparison with the magnificence of this celestial capital -- the magnificence of my home city...
Of the rocky planets ( excluding the lesser ice-bodies, of course ), only one stalwart remains to be wrestled into compliance: the devil's planet,'Venus'.
Only three humans have ever managed to touch her molten skin and return unkissed by fire. All of them were stout Martians. One of them -- was my Grandfather.
Today I announce plans to complete my Grandfather's ambitions. Venus will be conquered within my children's lifetimes.
**GCA Report, 4-215. Terradate: October the 31st, 2339. **
*Personal Account of Director Riyan Bern. *
Like the Chinese of Ancient Earth, Venus boasted a wall, deadly to any who wished to penetrate it. For centuries Venus has taunted us with her impregnable barrier. But she will taunt us no longer.
Today, we toppled her wall. Today... the heaven's were forced opened and the skies were freed: Venus' toxic atmosphere is no more. *Phase Akatsuki* is complete. Our dream waves us closer.
**GCA Report, 4-488. Terradate: November the 12th, 2357. **
*Personal Account of Director Riyan Bern. *
The ashes of the fallen haunt me. For how many more lost spirits must I be accountable...? How many more parentless children and empty graves?
Will the fires of Venus never be quenched? Will her volcanoes spew death for all eternity? I refuse it. Our men and women fought the fires and lost. We will not lose again.
I have gathered the greatest minds in the system -- Martian, Earth-born, and Primary ('Mercurian' ). We will not rest until I can honor those who have suffered with a promise of success.
**GCA Report, 4-493. Terradate: April the 24th, 2381. **
*Personal Account of Subject Riyan Bern. *
Martian life expectancy may be the longest in our galaxy, but still I am aging too quickly. My time is drying out. No one else is fit to carry on after me, so I press forward.
We have begun the initial experiments. Venus will suffer no human to trespass on her terrain, so -- we will send no human. There will be no more death.
Transferring human consciousness to an invincible mechanical body, this is Dr. Poliarus' solution. The mindful automaton will be massive, equipped with hoses and tanks of incredible scale. At last, the volcanoes of Venus will drink themselves to exhaustion.
Sadly, too many years have passed since its conception and people have lost faith in *Phase Amaterasu*. No one will volunteer. No one except I.
**GCA Report, 4-499. Terradate: July the 3rd, 2383. **
*Personal Account of Subject Riyan Bern. *
All the preparations have been made. Probability of success is disheartening, but even after so many years I have heart to spare.
At midnight, the transfer will begin. This will be my last entry as a human, a Martian, a father...
Tomorrow, I awake to my destiny. The ancients had a name for this sort of machine.'Firetruck', they called it. Well, dear Venus... I HOPE YOU ARE PREPARED TO BE FIRETRUCKED!
**End Report. **
|
[ WP ] The candle that burns twice as bright only burns half as long
|
Inside a bunker, two groups of people stood against each other like a parted sea.
`` So, what. What do you suggest?'' She hissed. Eyes darkened, challenging her sterling comrades. A good quarter of them stood behind her, but many of them were facing her defiantly.
One stood forward. Julian Litari, ex-commander of the European forces. He'd resigned upon second contact. A quitter in anyone's eyes.
... Well. Not quite.
`` How about this? We run, and we *live. * You ca n't force an entire squadron to sacrifice themselves for you, militia or not.''
`` Run where, huh? We'll be surrounded on all sides in less than an hour. We've already been assigned an ultimatum.''
He sighed. `` There's... a path in the Alps. It does n't go over or under, rather through the mountains. The Pontesians ca n't enter high altitude places, according to some old reports.''
Many of the men who had supported her had conflicted gazes now. but she stared them down and kept her gaze strong.
`` Alright? Then how about the airborne creatures that just landed? They've been mutating wildlife and turning the less willful to to their side. Not to mention, we'll be fighting former humans as well.''
Many more began to dissent, even the ones behind her.
`` Ca n't we just... surrender?''
`` Give up and let them assign our fates for once?''
`` We ca n't keep this up forever.''
But then, even Julian raised an eyebrow.
`` I will agree to run. But never surrender. I would rather spend one day as a lion than a thousand as a sheep.''
She laughed. `` Mussolini? Of course it would be, you Italian prick.''
He stepped back and sighed.
`` Not the time.'' So she shrugs.
`` Well. If you want to ally yourselves with those aliens, go ahead and leave right now. But remember that I will *never* consider you human again. We are all candles. We live because we burn, and die when we stop. What we do this year, between a surrogate war between two alien species, is our mark on a world. Will you light the way for the future, or dimly just *survive* in the shadows? We die quickly, but people will still remember us. Right now, we can be the best and brightest on the planet. Right now, we can be the ones that decide what it means to be human.''
Quietly. `` And perhaps it may come at the cost of your life. If you choose to burn twice as brightly...''
`` Half as long, right?'' The retired commander smirked.
Some still left. Ten, twenty, sixty... half of the men had simply tossed their fate into someone else's hands. Disappointing.
She sighed.
`` Well, we ca n't stay in here forever. Let's take the mountain path.'' She nodded to Julian. `` Something up?''
The Roman smiled wistfully. `` Because starving wolves at least die free. Even if our lives spiral out of control, we still must remember to do more than just survive.''
`` Hm. Well said.''
Survival rates, despite this, were still at an all time low.
-- -
This is a scene I've needed to write for something else, but this prompt works well for it, so I got it done. A little hastily, though, this is like 1st draft material.
|
[ FF ] How did humanity kill itself ?
|
It's a bit over the word limit, but I cut out as much as I felt I could while still keeping the essentials.
-- -
It's the same story every time.
The initial warning signs are disgustingly subtle, almost impossible to notice. We were barely lucky enough to have our radio telescopes pointed in roughly the right direction the first time. Not that it matters; by this point, I know the entire message by heart.
As time wears on, more and more signs hint to the impending Ragnarok; low-intensity radio messages give way to an intense blinding light. NASA gets flooded with reports of what looks like a new supernova visible in the daytime sky. The masses below take a second to admire the new sight. Eventually, however, the light becomes bright enough to rival the sun in intensity. Panic ensues, as it always does.
Approximately 53 minutes after the start of the loop, the Interstellar Diplomatic Outreach Cruiser enters Earth atmosphere traveling at approximately 99.9999999998523 % the speed of light. The impact alone instantly kills almost all life on planet Earth.
I was fortunate enough to be one of those on Lunar Base Delta. Instead of a quick, painless exit, I got to watch my planet perish underneath a hailstorm of flame and fire. I got to watch entire continents shatter, see chunks of molten mantle be flung out of earth orbit, then turn away to read that message, still gently flashing on the display screens. `` Systems Critical. Velocity uncontrolled. Impact unavoidable. We're sorry.''
The impact destroys the planet in seven minutes, but the hope of everyone on the base is gone long before that. Everyone, that is, except me. The first time it happened, I looked on my home, my people perishing in flame and pain, and I saw one way out. One possible way I could think of to save everything the human race was and could ever be.
Project Delta-Sixty was an experimental project, built out of an abiding, morbid curiosity, never meant for human testing. Still, what choice did I have? I walk, in a nightmare-like trance, towards the room that leads to the testing chamber. The chronometer flashes 19:27 as I enter the activation sequence.
A flash.
I open my eyes to see the chronometer on the wall flashing 18:27, my mind still rife with memories of the horrors I just witnessed. I prepare myself mentally for what's ahead. The rest of humanity has no clue that in one hour, the planet Homo Sapiens has called home for two million years will be a molten slag heap. I have one hour to do something. To think of some miraculous way to stop the disaster. Yet as the few I can convince I'm not insane begin furiously working, I know it wo n't be enough.
I do n't watch the impact any more. Too many times experiencing it have seared it into my memory forever. I simply turn around and start walking towards the door marked Delta-60, sorrowful that the first ten thousand iterations were n't enough.
|
[ WP ] You 've prepared for the zombie apocalypse for years - however , now that it actually happened , nothing you do works out quite right , resulting in you becoming a running joke among the survivors and comically having to rely on those very people you thought would die first to keep you alive .
|
I found him broken down in what was at one time a boiler room of the hospital. Today his existence killed another person, bringing the count up to twelve.
I was the only founder to vote against his exile. Luckily as the broken man was still considered a founder by the loosest thread he could only be removed by a unanimous vote. Today they would not have mine.
I still pitied him. Today my wife died and I pity the man who caused it.
My beautiful wife who meant so much to the camp. One of the last two doctors. A loss which would cause more death beyond her own.
He sobbed cradling the bloodied sweatshirt, `` Why!? Why does this keep happening to me? I've prepared! I've trained! How is it that not only can I not keep myself alive, I drag everyone else down with me?''
Before The Fall he was the worlds most foremost'Prepper'. He dedicated his life in preparation of perhaps not this scenario, but ones extremely close to it.
The funny thing is that when the world went to hell so did he. Sure he can do the simple stuff, and teach even the experienced a thing or two in a controlled environment. When the shit hits the fan more often than not the one closest to him dies. He chokes. Completely freezes when a zed comes charging at him. There has been no sign of him improving in the slightest.
Most of us were at one time or another his pupil. With each death though, with each loss to our family at his feet; the respect of many turned to dust. Turned to loathing.
Mine turned to pity.
Today he lost a daughter. Well, a daughter-in-law.
`` Come on Dad, lets get you cleaned up and out of those rancid clothes.''
They would not have my vote tonight.
But my new family can not lose our last doctor and I fear my life will be next.
As I hoisted him up and had him cry into my shoulder, sniveling apologies and asking for forgiveness I heard nothing.
I would not sleep this night.
I would think of the arguments and conversations I had with Amelia during similar sleepless nights.
And I knew in the morning I would vote exactly how she wanted me to.
|
Today is the day I die . [ WP ]
|
`` Today is the day I die.''
Those are the words I say to myself every day, and every day, it does n't happen.
At age five, I was cursed by a crazy old witch lady, who my parents swerved to avoid. She did n't finish the curse before a Semi collided with her head-on, killing her instantly.
You do n't know how painful it is to live sometimes. Every day, I am driven to the brink of death by some random catastrophe. One day, it was a group of ninjas who thought I was their assassination target. Turned out they had the wrong address. I discovered that poorly made katanas can leave metal shards behind, and metal shards embedded in flesh hurt like nothing.
There was also the guys who kidnapped me and harvested my organs, repeatedly. That was a special two months of hell. Regrowing organs is painful. I eventually convinced them to let me go, as they had a stockpile of organs that could last them months.
My latest'death' involved a guy with a chainsaw in a supermarket. It was late at night, this was a 24 hour supermarket, and I was short on groceries. I also did n't feel like dying of starvation, as that was really painful, so I walked in. So this guy takes his chainsaw hand and lops off my head, then shoots my twitching body with his shotgun, screaming, `` This is my boomstick!''
So, everyday, I tell myself, `` Today is the day I die.''
This time, I just hope it sticks.
|
[ CW ] We 're assembling a team . Details inside .
|
For as long as he could remember, he had avoided going out during the night. His ability became plain to see at that point and it freaked everyone out. After all, what sort of human glows in the dark. Anytime the sun went down, Steve White would start to glow an iridescent yellow-greenish glow, lighting up any dark place he was in.
It was on one of these dark, cold nights where our story begins. Steve sat on his couch watching the television. Yet again his friends had gone out to the city to celebrate the end of the work week, but he was at home. Not only that, but he had to rush home from work as the sun was starting to get to that time where it set early.
It was then, in the midst of his sadness and depression, that the news bulletin came across the TV. The reporters were simply repeating that what everyone was seeing was real. It wasn ’ t a hoax. And it was this moment that Steve ’ s eyes came alive, his attention aroused. A man in a night black uniform, complete with cape, was flying around the city destroying things. His costume blended perfectly into the night, and then he would emerge all of a sudden with some sort of super human strength and just absolutely wreck everything in sight.
The whole city stared in horror as the police and even the military fired at the man, unable to stop him. Steve had barely even noticed. Tucked away in the deepest, darkest part of his house was a costume he had made a long time ago. In some crazed mania he thought he had figured out how to cure his glowing ability; however, he had found something even more important. The suit still let his glow shine through, but it was able to withstand things that other materials couldn ’ t.
As Steve slipped it on, he wondered why someone would have left such valuable material outside his house. And then he remembered that they would probably had have no clue about its potential.
The black caped figure flew through the air, yelling out threats and destroying even more. And then Steve came around the corner, decked out in a purple-green metallic looking suit. The pitch blackness of the night was removed, replaced by the glow that Steve let off. For the first time in his life, Steve noticed everyone looking at him not because they hated his glow, but rather because they were in awe of it.
The dark flying man came pummeling towards Steve, but before he even got close, Steve let out what he was always struggling to keep in. A bright beam of light shot forth from his whole body and knocked the man in the air back a few feet. What the evil man didn ’ t know, as he stood up and wiped some blood off of his face, was that was just Steve warming up.
A light show emerged downtown as flash of light after flash of light lit everything up, a mysteriously dark figure flying all over the place. A man who couldn ’ t even be pierced by a bullet was now bleeding from head to toe. On his hands and knees he surrendered to Steve, pulling off his own mask in the process. And so Steve became the hero of his city. Of course, he knew no one could know who he was, so now he had to really hide. He could never be in a place that wasn ’ t well-lit ever again.
A few weeks had passed since the incident. Steve had found his calling. Every few nights he went out on the streets and fought off bad guys. But, he was more effective at scaring them, as almost everyone could see him coming, so he was thinking about giving up.
And then an explosion ripped through his neighborhood. He raced to get his costume on and ran out into the broad daylight. The newest villain had arrived and was laughing at Steve. What good could he be during the day?
It wasn ’ t long before Steve realized his true potential. An even more powerful burst of light radiated from him and struck the villain. Steve ’ s powers seemed to have increased during the day, now adding an element of heat to his light attacks. The villain rose up and started towards Steve. As he prepared another burst, a quick blur passed in front of his eyes and the villain was gone. Instead, he was crumpled up a few feet away.
Steve rushed out of sight and changed out of his costume. He then tried to make it look like he had been gone for the whole thing and was surprised to see the damage. As he started to put the key in his front door, he heard foot steps. He looked behind him. A man in a brown coat stood there, his head down and shaded, waiting to speak.
“ I'm looking for people like you. I think you'll want to see this... ”
-200
|
[ WP ] Let 's Play a Game
|
You awaken from a deep, dreamless sleep. So deep, that you struggle to recall your own name.
Laura.
Yes, that was it.
You run your hand over a clammy, barren scalp.It's been eons since you have n't felt this way. The feeling is not confined to your cranium, however. It encompasses your entire body. Every inch of your being. Except your lungs. With each breath, that one tiny particle, no larger than a grain of sand, radiates. Radiates pain, and radiates regret.
You should never have tried to save a few cents and bought genetically modified black pepper. A single grain had worked its way down the wrong pipe, and your life was forever altered. Who could have guessed it was carcinogenic?
Will you survive long enough to have the transplant you need?
It does n't matter. You can sense in your heart that the cancer has already spread.
On feeble, atrophied legs you attempt to stand, but they just can not bear your frail frame. You drag yourself to the window, and manage to open it with a massive effort. You scrabble up, onto the sill. The agony has grown so great now that you ca n't feel anything at all, aside from the sweet scent of smoggy city air, the fumes reassuring you that the world outside this place still existed. The sun... still shone. And with that last lovely thought, you hurl yourself forwards into darkness.
|
[ WP ] `` People 'round these parts eat garlic for a reason . You best be moving on , y'all . ''
|
Charles Sawyer, Regina Stone, and Evan Johnson walked through a desert on the Texas/Mexico boarder. The three of them were tired and hungry but this was Regina's first night of life after death. Charles remembered what that was like, the hunger tearing at your insides driving you insane with it's tenacity. When Even had turned him Regina was there. She knew what was in store for her yet she had begged him for the blood that would fuel her transformation.
The plan was for Charles to turn Regina and then the three of them would drive to Chet's Diner and Regina would have her pick of the meat. Chet's was close enough for their needs but far enough away from civilization that in the unlikely event that the police were called they could be in and out before the unsuspecting calvary arrived. Unfortunately Evan's piece of shit car had broken down and now they were walking. It was n't an issue for him or Evan but Regina was going to be HUNGRY. It should be fun to watch at the very least.
As Charles walked placing one foot in front of the other he watched Regina with interest. She paced back and forth as they headed toward the diner like a caged animal, her back muscles flexing with contained energy. She NEEDED the blood and as they drew closer to their target he knew from experience that nothing would stand in her way.
They crested the final hill and the lights of the diner shone like a star across the half mile distance. Charles watched as Regina's body folded in on itself like a spring and then launched her toward the light. The two men accelerated to keep up with her as she gave over control to her growing vampiric instincts.
Ahead a solitary man stepped out of his truck cabin toward the diner. Evan being the oldest got there first. Regina and Charles paused watching the man stand defiantly as the vampire approached. Regina looked on with interest but her growing blood lust turned her toward the building.
Charles chuckled watching Evan draw closer to the man but he quickly lost interest and turned toward Regina. She was on the hunt and now her lust was palpable.
They approached the entrance. The emotion pouring off Regina was overwhelming, it obliterated everything else from the senses of the three vampires, but something prickled through the onslaught that set Charles on edge.
The hair on the back of his neck standing up, `` Regina,'' cautioned Charles, but she was n't listening. Her sights were set on a new target. A young man stepped incautiously around the vehicles toward the lights. Regina watched him hungrily but he gave no notice. She reached him before Charles. As she sank her teeth into the man Charles heard Evan shriek. His head snapped around but before he could see what the issue was Regina started wailing.
His head snapped back around only to see Regina's face disintegrate. Her jaw melted into the ground, her throat and thorax turned to mush and sloughed onto her shirt. He watched in horror as the rot claimed her.
A grizzled elderly patron stepped out through the front entrance drawn by Regina's blood curdling wail. He watched, a smile on his lips, as her body turned to ash.
The young man struggled to his feet as a badly mangled Evan approached the scene. The old man took in both vampires, saw the damage Evan had taken through the tainted blood, raised a hand containing a black ash coated stake and said, `` People'round these parts eat garlic for a reason. You best be moving on, y'all.''
The blackened stake, the grim determination and the overwhelming putrescence of garlic streaming off both men let Charles know that this was a losing fight.
The two vampires ran into the night as the elder of the two humans kicked at the mound of ash that was all that remained of Regina Stone.
|
[ WP ] `` Will buy america for two goat ''
|
times are hard in latvia
we have no potato. we need potato. I grow potato but there is not enough. We need many potato.
we have few farm. we can not grow enough potato from not enough farm. we have not enough land to grow potato. we only have three goat.
america is big land. we need big land so we say we want to buy america. we offer two goat. two goat is many goat in latvia. we do n't give third goat. third goat is special. we love third goat.
they do n't think two goat is enough. we love third goat many so we will not give third goat. we do n't get america.
such is life
|
[ WP ] Aliens have taken over the world , and nothing has really changed .
|
`` Should n't we like, care or something?'' Roger threw more scrap lumber into the bin.
I was trying to load the nail gun, but the slide was stuck. `` Not really. God damnit, Dave, can you help me with this?'' Dave stuck his hand out of the truck window, and took the gun from me.
Roger started shoveling busted drywall into the trash bin. `` I mean, it's kind of scary, Jack. Ships above the oceans, all that shit.''
Dave stuck the loaded gun back out the window. I grabbed it and connected the air hose and flicked the compressor on. I waited until the tanks filled and it quieted down. `` They want water, man. Just water. We have lots of it.'' I reached down and popped two random pieces of board together to test the gun.
`` Wo n't we like, run out or something?'' Roger snatched the board I just nailed and threw it in the bin.
`` Okay, wait. Aliens have set down on our planet to exploit our resources, and have vastly superior technology and could probably stomp our asses into paste. And you're mostly concerned with running out of water?''
`` Yeah, I guess so.''
I sighed. `` They want water. Salt water is everywhere. So they show us how to filter seawater for ourselves, and all they really want is something that is toxic to humans, is overabundant, and pretty much useless for anything else.''
Roger seemed unconvinced. `` But can we-''
I cut him off. `` Look, dude, we've got a whole roof to do and it looks like rain. Can we just finish this damned job so we can go home and enjoy the damned weekend?''
Dave stuck his hand out the window, thumb up.
|
[ IP ] Frozen In Time
|
*Where there's rain, there's fire. * We always thought these were just signs of my father's dementia, old age settling in. He had come up with these sayings throughout his life - quasi-proverbs, as we called them. Oftentimes they were just bastardizations of existing ones, but periodically a gem would come up. And then, there was this. We did n't know what he meant. I meant to ask him, of course, but the one day I could have, I did n't.
I sat by his bedside that day. I did n't usually, but today was the day that the doctors had told me would be his last. His old hand sat in mine. I was rubbing it - remembering the days that those word-hardened hands had made me toys in his garage. The comfort of those hands when my boyfriend broke up with me. He had always been there for me - and now, I was there for him.
He spoke only one word, in that warm, yet aged voice that I loved.
*Argentina... *
I felt his life slip away in those moments. I turned to the window, the skies outside were clear. The reflection I could see was a downpour - but, as I looked, I saw what he meant.
-- -
OT; what do you think? I'm normally not this vague when it comes to imagery, so and CC is greatly appreciated!
|
Aliens destroy the entire human race , except for 10 people . They are all put in one room , and are left alone . The group tries to piece together why exactly they were spared , and question themselves as individuals . [ WP ]
|
*Game I*
\________
A voice fills the room. `` *Welcome. You are the only remaining members of your species. *''
I look around. A businesswoman in a respectable suit stands on my right. On my left, a nervous man squats on the floor, shivering uncontrollably and biting his nails. I think I recognize a world leader and a pop star. There are ten of us in total.
`` *We wish to engage in a... *'' The voice pauses, like it's trying to find the right word. `` *... Game. *
`` *The final winner of all the Games will be given what they desire most. The losers will be... exterminated. *'' An uncomfortable silence fills the room. `` *I will now explain the rules of the first Game. *''
A spherical holographic projection appears in the center of the room. The sphere splits into two and five bright dots appear in each hemisphere.
`` *In the first round, you will be split into two teams - East and West. You will each be given a button. This is your Defection button. When you press your button, you will automatically leave your team and join your opponents. For example, if a player in East presses the button, he will become a member of West. *
The glowing dots in one hemisphere jump across to the other.
A small rod, about four inches in length, materializes in front of me. It's white and perfectly smooth, like porcelain. A red button lies on the tip of the rod. It glows gently like the walls, inviting us to press it. No one dares.
`` *Each player may only defect once. Defections are secret and are not made known to other players, unless you choose to tell them. The winning team is the one with the greater number of members after sixty minutes. *
The hemisphere with eight glowing dots rises up.
`` *However, *'' the voice pauses. `` *If all the players on your original team defect, all original members of that team will lose. The original opposing team wins, no matter the size of each team. *''
All the dots from one hemisphere jump to the other. Then, it bursts into flames, startling everyone in the room.
`` *Good luck. *''
I consider the rules. Once a player defects, their team will have two fewer players than the other team. The rest of the team will immediately want to defect. But if that happens, then the entire team loses. There is no sure way to win, unless players can collude with their opponents...
Suddenly, the room begins shaking violently. A bottomless chasm appears and splits the room into two. I lose my balance and fall to the ground, nearly sliding into the chasm.
A giant wall slides in from the ceiling, sealing the room. I'm left in a semicircular room with four others - the businesswoman, the bodybuilder, the pop star and the nervous man.
`` *You are team West. The Game will end in sixty minutes, *'' the voice announces.
The businesswoman immediately begins. `` Everyone listen! As long as no one defects, we can not lose! We will always have equal or more than team East.''
*That makes sense, * I think to myself. Everyone else agrees, and nods.
Then, we hear someone sobbing in the corner. It's the nervous man. I walk over and sit beside him. `` Hey, are you okay? What's your name?''
He turns to me tears running down his face.
`` Hen... Henry...''
`` What's wrong, Henry?'' I ask gently.
`` I... I...''
Henry hides his face in his knees.
`` I... I pressed my button...''
|
[ WP ] After being lost in space for 100,000 years Space Station Hope finds a new planet inhabited by alien life . What they do n't know , is that they 've just returned to earth .
|
*Disengaging hyperdrive* came a smooth female voice from the computer. *Prepare to begin stellar orbit. * The main computer of the *Hope* had a habit of making everything sound not just normal, but rather boring, no matter the situation. `` All right everyone, you, er, know the drill...'' stuttered the captain. He was the complete opposite, a nervous wreck, appointed only through birth right. I, his second in command, was far more experienced than he, and for the first few years of his rule I was all but running the station for him. There were 450,000 of us on the *Hope*, a number that had remained much the same for at least the past 10,000 generations. Our mission was to carry the human race forward through time, to find a new planet and reignite civillisation. This involved jumping from system to system attempting to find a habitable planet.
*Scan complete. One possible planet found. Retracting window shields. *
As the shutters open, light from the central star shines in, temporarily blinding us until the windows automatically dim the light. In the distance, a small blue planet could barely be seen, but the Navigator stood up, walked to the window and pointed at it. `` There it is, our next candidate.''
`` Start scanning for life,'' I tell the rest of the bridge. `` Set a course for low orbit, at light speed times 0.015.'' The bridge becomes a sudden hive of activity as everyone carries out my instructions. The captain slowly walks towards me and whispers in my ear, `` so what happens now? I've, um, forgotten.''
`` We've done this a million times before, go into low orbit and scan for life. Most likely there'll be nothing there.''
`` Oh... Ok.'' His face falls as he realises that we really have done this a million times before. That may be an exaggeration, in the last 10 years since he was appointed we had only scanned 257,900 other planets. Suddenly, my chain of thought is broken with an excited, `` First test is positive for life!'' as the scan officer's screen slowly fills with numbers. Now it's time to act. In the past 10 years, only 7 other planets have come up as positive for life, and on none of those did the second or third scan yield any confirmation. Turning to the comms officer, I tell him to sound the general alarm, prepare for dropship landing. Three bells ring out, repeating over for a minute before stopping and being replaced by a voice saying, `` Possible life found. All units to prepare for dropship boarding. Scout parties 1 and 2 to hangar bay alpha.''
*Established low planetary orbit. Reversing engines. Caution. *
`` Second scan confirms first scan, positive for life!''
`` All units board dropships. Confimation of life, green light on drop.''
A series of loud bangs rattle through the ship as dozens of hangar doors open at once. I leave the bridge, run down a corridor and down a lift, and come out in one of the hangars. Climbing aboard, I am welcomed by the commander of Scout Team A, as the door behind me closes and the dropship's engines roar into life. With a jolt, we slide along the hangar floor and out the door, freefalling to the planet.
*1 mile to planet surface. Prepare for impact. *
The dropship judders as parachutes are released, and the engines go to full power to slow the descent. We put breathing masks on, power up our guns, just in case, and brace for the hard landing. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the dropship slams into the ground. As the ramp drops, I am second to leave, and am confronted with a wonderful sight. A beautiful grass plain, with rocky outcrops everywhere, trees poking out of the tall undergrowth every few dozen yards. `` It's *wonderful*!'' I hear somebody say over the radio.
About half a mile away someone spots the other scout team's dropship. Running towards it, we meet up with them, and after a brief discussion we each go seperate ways to explore. Straight away one of the first things we notice is that in between the outcrops are relatively straight flat parts, a few metres wide. As the operations manual tells us to do, we note it down and continue. A few minutes later someone at the back notices movement in the grass. Quickly, we turn our backs to each other, guns extended, as we had been trained to do for so many years. Out from a rock comes a creature. It looks vaguely humanoid, but much smaller, and hairy, and it has a tail. It looks like one of those creatures from the old stories - what where they called? -monkies?. The person to the right of me has a camera; they take a few photos and we move on, a little more cautious.
A few minutes later, I make an interesting find. A rusted piece of metal, shaped roughly like a transport pod on the *Hope*, with what looks like they used to be windows, smashed until only the frames were left. It is then I have an astounding revalation...
`` You guys all know the stories about Earth, right?''
`` Yeah...''
`` Well, I'm beginning to think it was a real place.''
`` Why's that?''
`` Well... I think we may be standing on it.''
*Silence. *
|
[ WP ] Write a story from bacteria dealing with the 6 second rule
|
`` GO!''
We crawled out from the cracks in the tile floor trenches, making a collision with the food laying on the ground. It would take us a few miles.
`` 6 SECONDS!''
Bacteria all around me was charging in, making a beeline towards the food. It was a soft cookie. Perfect to bring us closer to a host.
`` 5, 4, 3!''
It was a suicide charge, every cell for itself. Bacteria, too slow for the time limit, ran back towards the trench or hung on shoes for dear life. I was looking straight ahead, just a few meters from the cookie.
`` 2, 1.....''
So close, so close, so close...
`` JUMP, HURRY!''
I grasped my body onto the cookie, sitting right next to a M & M on it. A small hand picked the cookie up, as the few who made it walloped a cheer. The cookie was now raised towards the human's mouth, going deeper inside the saliva cave. We jumped off on the tongue, charging inside the body. This was n't our last battle now. But it sure as hell was n't the first.
|
[ WP ] In a stunning series of mishaps , North Korea successfully detonates a nuclear weapon on a high value target
|
The aide burst into the room. `` Supreme Leader! It worked!''
Kim Jong Un stared at the aide. `` What worked? Which project are you talking about? Is this about the satellite launch that we have been planning for weeks again?''
`` No, not that one Great Defender. The rocket did make it to outer space but the satellite fell apart upon release into orbit. The scientists responsible for this failure have already been sent to the camps.''
The Shining Star rubbed his chin approvingly. `` Good, good. Well then, have we made progress with our nuclear weapons program?''
The aide shook his head. `` No, Brilliant Leader. We have been unable to prepare the necessary uranium to make a weapon strong enough to destroy our enemies in the West. We have moved many families to the mining camps in order to increase our supply.''
Kim Jong Un nodded his head in approval. `` Ok then. Have the puppets of the United States sent money and food for our people in response to our threats of war?''
The aide hesitated. `` Unfortunately, the Western devils are siding with our lost brothers in the South and continuing to show no mercy for our poor comrades. We expect to suffer a famine in the next coming months, although your personal supply will not be affected, especially the sashimi and caviar.''
His Excellency threw his head back and laughed heartily. `` Of course, of course. Well, what project worked that you have disturbed my rest then?''
`` Do you remember the sleeper agent that we inserted into the United States many years ago?''
`` The one in New York?''
`` Yes, that one. If you remember, our best doctors made many changes to his face and hair in an attempt to make him blend in better with the U.S. imperialists.''
`` Ah yes. One of my father's pet projects. Did n't we lose touch with him though?''
The aide began looking at his notes. `` Yes Leader of the People, we did. However, it seems that he has stayed loyal to our cause. He is ready to destroy the puppet government of the U.S. from the inside.''
The Glorious Leader stood up at his desk. `` What do you mean, from the inside?''
`` My Beloved Father, our agent Donald Trump has secured the presidency.''
|
[ FF ] The empty room .
|
I awake in darkness.
I do n't remember going to sleep in darkness.
...
What is this shit anyway?
I feel my way along the wall. Cold, smooth... is this cement? Who builds a room out of cement? So not a room, maybe a bunker? A cell?
And why ca n't I fucking see anything?
I check my face with my hand. My eyes are still there. Does n't tell me if they work. `` Hello!'' I call. It echoes for a moment and then falls silent again.
Okay, at least my ears work.
I hit a corner. Start trying the next wall.
What did I do to be put here? Did I commit a crime I do n't remember? That seems unlikely.
I have n't hit any furniture yet. Is there anything in here? Even a cell has, like, a slab to sleep on. Or a toilet. Or even just a bucket to pee in. Come on, now. This is ridiculous.
I hit the next wall.
Time passes. I start to feel lightheaded. Okay man, keep your cool. It's cool. You're cool. Everything's cool.
This fucking concrete is pretty fucking *cool. *
I hit the next wall. Still nothing. I start to hyperventilate a little. I picture something calming to bring myself back to a steady breathing rhythm. A sunny day. Cats running through the tall grass. A child, giggling, chasing them.
All stuff not contained in a fucking concrete box.
Okay, I just have to stay calm and -
I hit the next wall.
Wait.
This is n't the last wall.
It's the first wall.
I feel along it anyway.
Feeling dizzy. Gasp for air. Thoughts left... incomplete.
Fractured.
I do n't feel so good.
Scream. Echoes a bit.
Next wall.
Second wall.
No door.
Definitely no door.
And no windows.
Stand up. It's hard. Thinking is hard. Breathing is hard.
Ca n't touch ceiling. Ca n't see ceiling.
No vents either.
Which means.
No air.
...
I hit the floor. Hard.
I go to sleep.
|
[ WP ] `` I used to be a human , you know ''
|
I used to be human you know.
With the hopes and dreams
And everything in between.
And the nightmares and the fright
Of the things living in the night
Far beyond.
And once, I had a life of more
Than what I've done.
And that once, a being came
And terrorized, and horrified all the same.
I had a family long ago.
A future and a love, but now she's a widow.
And I, a widower.
And before the sun could get ever lower,
I volunteered, to rid the world of a beast,
That would be the least
I could ever do.
To the dead, I whispered'iloveyou'
There, I expected to die,
Rid myself of a lie,
That the world was worth living in.
But sometimes, you never win.
There, I met the monster,
And slew it. And rid the world of a father.
Thus I have been cursed,
To look, to live, to be ever worse.
Thus goes it, never to return to a world of men.
And never see love again.
|
[ WP ] The government has enlisted you , a world renowned hacker , to unlock and open a mysterious futuristic pod they found . Ten years later , you finally manage to crack it open . Inside , you find a scrap of paper with the current date and your unconscious breathing body .
|
I glanced up from the piece of paper and back to the man ’ s face.
My face.
It didn ’ t make sense. It had to be a dummy – some realistic doll or something like that. No, it was too convincing, too life-like. In fact, it was even breathing. And besides, the pod was sealed shut, no doubt. Those meatheads the government hired couldn ’ t dream of prying it open. Even it took me countless years of getting the endless list of combinations right to get inside.
And just when I thought I cracked the code, I was more lost than ever.
I looked down to the paper he – or me – had. It had the current date and some scribbled hastily underneath. It matched my handwriting, albeit a little sloppy. After a few moments, I deciphered what it said.
*You are the Omnis. If you are reading this, please wake me up. *
Omnis? What the hell was that supposed to mean? My limited Latin knowledge failed me, leaving my head spinning as I tried to make sense of the situation. It got stranger by the moment.
Taking hesitant steps towards the man, I held my breath. It was some time after midnight, well after the time most of the guards stayed but one could have made rounds to check on me at any moment. A sneaking feeling told me I wanted to wake the man up before they knew of his existence.
I placed a hand on his shoulder, not enough to wake him. There was warmth, yet another sign he was alive and not part of a hoax. Then again, if he was at this point then I had to applaud the work that went into him.
His eyelids twitched, a rapid movement that made me recoil. As I took a step back, his eyelashes fluttered for a brief second. Afterwards, his eyes were open, taking in the entire world. They scanned the sterile white room, finally falling on me. When they did, he gave a small smirk.
Nope, he was definitely the real deal.
“ You did it, ” he said in a raspier version of my voice. “ I knew you would. ”
I furrowed my brow.
“ Who the hell are you? And how did you know when I would crack the code? ”
My clone said nothing, closing his eyes. His breathing slowed, as if he drifted back to sleep. I opened my mouth in protest but he cuts me off.
“ I ’ m sorry. My body is still sluggish after transporting, ” he starts, rubbing his eyes. “ But to answer your questions, I am you and I know because I have seen it before. In fact, this won ’ t be the last time either. ”
“ That makes no sense. ”
“ Yes, I suppose it doesn ’ t, ” he said, stroking his chin. “ Hmm, what is the best way to explain to you? ”
Without thought, I thrust the piece of paper forward. I had to stop my arm from not hitting him in the face in the process.
“ Let ’ s start with this message. It says I ’ m the ‘ Omnis ’. What is that? ”
“ Ah, yes. The Omnis is everything, in a sense. Without it, nothing could exist. ”
“ You ’ re still losing me, ” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“ Do you ever have déjà vu? ”
“ Of course. ”
“ Well, what if I told you that you experience that because your life is tether to others – an unfathomable amount, in fact. ”
“ I would say you ’ re crazy. But go on. ”
“ Indeed, the concept is crazy, ” my clone said, nodding. “ But it is true. You – we, actually – are part of the same being. That being exists in different times, dimensions, and even universes. We are the pivot of which all things exist. ”
“ So we ’ re like God? ”
“ Not exactly. However, the analogy will have to suffice for now. We have little time and I need your help. ”
“ My help? ” I asked. “ What can I do? ”
My clone watched with interest, his eyes shining. There was something about them that put me on edge. If anything, they already told me I didn ’ t want to hear what he had to say.
“ We ’ re a dying breed, you and I. Someone – or something – has been picking us off one by one. And if it ’ s not stopped, every version of us will be gone. I fear how many have been eradicated in the last ten years I ’ ve been gone. ”
My eyes widened with realization. Everything said prior made sense, the dots connecting into one coherent picture. I had cracked the code once again.
If we die, so does everything else.
|
[ WP ] You are cursed . For every action or decision that alters the course of your life , you get to see what the other outcome would have been- but only when it 's too late to change .
|
Oh my God, the pain.
I didn ’ t know I could feel this much pain. My heart hammers, my ribs throb with agony and my leg is on fire. Something feels very *wrong* inside, as if warm liquid is seeping into places that nature never intended it to go.
Around me I can hear the sounds of passers-by gasping and murmuring. Frantic cries of “ Call an ambulance! ” resound nearby. A child sobs loudly and his mother is trying to soothe him with poorly disguised hysteria in her voice. Judging by the general tone of hushed horror in the hubbub around me, I ’ m guessing that I look pretty much broken.
Well, I suppose this probably counts as a life-changing event. I wonder when I ’ ll get the vision. Probably not too long now because there ’ s definitely no coming back from this one. It ’ s not like I can rewind time and avoid getting hit by the truck. Fate is always eager to show me what might have been if only I ’ d done things differently, but never until the window of opportunity is closed and the alternate future has already slipped forever out of my reach. Such is my curse.
Can you imagine how demoralising it feels to always have hindsight of your poorest choices in perfect clarity? To be taunted by the useless knowledge of lost opportunities? The curse had sculpted me into an irresolute and indecisive man, scared of making any decisions I ’ d regret later. I let life carry me along and accepted whatever scraps it threw my way.
Like Abby. She ’ s a sweet girl and she is fond of me but if I ’ m going to be truthful, neither of us are really in love. Sure, I like her. We ’ re good friends and get on really well together. She ’ s nice although I do find her a little boring sometimes. Mostly it ’ s just for the comfort of being with somebody else, a cosy, secure kind of feeling. Sometimes I daydream about finding true love and wonder if I should hold out for something more. If I had the courage, I ’ d really like to find a special soul-mate and spend my life with somebody I ’ m crazy about.
Well, that kind of fairy-tale doesn ’ t happen to everyone. At least I ’ ve got a nice girl to spend my life with, something that many people can only wish for. I can ’ t risk losing that. I ’ d hate to walk away from it and be forced to watch a vision of the safe, happy, secure future I ’ d left behind.
Oh… this doesn ’ t feel good. I think I ’ m dying.
I ’ m so cold and on fire at the same time. My mind feels kind of detached now, almost free. It ’ s peaceful. I drift as reality dissolves into the familiar cursed vision of hindsight.
*I glance up from my newspaper to see the boy chasing pigeons. His mother isn ’ t watching him and I see clear as day what ’ s about to happen. There ’ s a pigeon strutting in the middle of the road and the boy starts to dash across the street to chase it. There ’ s a truck coming and it ’ s not slowing down. I ’ m close enough that I could run after the boy and shove him to safety, but if I did that then the truck would hit me instead… there ’ s no time to think, have to make a decision right now…*
*I stand frozen in indecision. I don ’ t want to risk getting hurt. The brakes screech as the driver reacts too late. There ’ s a flurry of wings as the pigeon flies out of the path of the truck barely seconds before it slams into the… NO! I don ’ t want to see this. Don ’ t make me watch this…*
*It ’ s years later. I ’ m alive and healthy and it looks like me and Abby got married. I go through my daily routine. Abby makes me eggs for breakfast while I read my newspaper. We exchange a little small talk and I go to work. She kisses me when I come home. We have a good life and I should be grateful for what I have but sometimes I wish… I wish…. *
With tremendous effort, I manage to open my eyes one last time. I turn my head ever so slightly, glancing past the pool of my own blood to where the mother is holding her crying child. He clings on to her, sobbing but unhurt aside from the surface graze from where he fell when I shoved him aside. His mother stares at me with shock, fear and awe in her eyes.
I can ’ t regret this. No matter what I ’ ve lost, I wouldn ’ t go back and change this even if I could. I close my eyes, content, and let the blackness descend over me like a veil.
*****
There ’ s a light. I awaken to find myself in a hospital ward with the muted sounds of nurses bustling about their business and the beeping of monitors. There ’ s a tube in my arm and another one in my nose. My entire body hurts but it ’ s not as bad as it was before. I ’ m in pretty bad shape but I guess I ’ m not going to die, right?
My leg hurts more than anything else. It tingles like an itch I really need to scratch. It takes me several long moments to realise that there ’ s no lump under the bed sheets next to my left leg where the right one should be.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Okay, I ’ ve lost a leg. It could be worse. I can learn to live without it, learn to walk again.
I can learn to live again.
For the first time, I ’ m actually looking forward to the future. This time, I ’ m going to grasp it with both hands and take control. I won ’ t waste any more time with fear and regret. Whatever is left of my life, I ’ m going to make damn sure I make the most I possibly can out of it.
The worst has already happened and I ’ m not sorry. Whatever decisions I make, I can accept the consequences. Tomorrow is another adventure. Bring it on!
|
[ WP ] As well as yearly birthdays , everyone has yearly 'deathdays ' , which mark the anniversary of the day they will die .
|
To be perfectly honest, I was pissed.
No cards. No presents. Not even a `` Happy Deathday!'' It really puts a number on your value as a human being when not a single co-worker; not a single neighbour; not even my own family celebrate my deathday. I mean, it's only one day in the entire year that they have to remember. How hard is that? I mean, really!
I never expect them to remember my birthday. I was one of those unfortunate few who were born on February 29th. It only comes around once every four years, so I normally celebrate my birthday on the 28th ( or sometimes March 1st ). That's a fair enough reason to forget my birthday. I mean, I sometimes forget it! But my deathday? That's right in the middle of July ( 15th, if you're wondering ). How can they forget that?
Yes, it really puts a number on your value as a human. For me, that number was a big, fat ZERO!
This particular year, my deathday fell on a Wednesday. Goddamn Wednesdays! The most annoying of all days. Right in the middle of the week. All the buzz from the previous weekend is gone, and there's still three excruciating days ( if you count Wednesday itself ) left before the next one. No one ever feels good on a Wednesday.
That's why I was so glad my deathday fell on this day. Well, I WAS two weeks ago. I thought that a nice, friendly office gathering would lift the spirits of the work force. nothing too fancy, of course. You know, a small cake; a little present; some candles; everyone singing `` Happy Deathday''. I thought that'd be nice. I'm not trying to be selfish, but that would've lifted the spirits of everyone involved.
But no. No deathday celebrations for me. Just plain, old, stupid Wednesday. Forget my deathday, why do n't you?! But they did n't forget Derek's deathday about a month ago. They got us all to hide in the office when Derek came back from his cigarette break; lights out and in total silence. Oh, that was a great day... Man, screw Derek!
I checked the time: 13:48. Still another three hours to go. Another three long, tiresome, depressing hours. I really was n't feeling like doing any work today. I was just too depressed by this point. What had been anger earlier on had mellowed out with time into a heavy sadness that sat upon my shoulders like I was carrying a bag of broken dreams on my back. I sat there and watched the hours tick away.
They would n't notice me not working. I was n't that important. The fact that no one remembered my deathday made that pretty damn clear. I waited in sad silence for the day to end so that I could return home. Home. Alone. Sad and forgotten.
I do n't know why it got to me as much as it did, but I was sure as hell feeling it now. Why did I care so much? What did it matter if they forgot my deathday? Should that stop me from being happy? These questions spun around in my head; twisting my thoughts. I did n't want to know the answers, to tell you the truth. I just continued on, back to my small, city apartment.
Some people claim that the whole `` deathday'' thing is just a huge marketing strategy; that it's not real. `` How can anyone tell what day you're going to die?'' they argue. And, in fairness, I've always seen their point. I mean, I've always been rather skeptical about the premise of the whole thing. The concept seems rather illogical. But, to be perfectly honest, as I cocked the revolver and placed the barrel under my chin, I began to think maybe there was some logic to it after all...
Edit: A few spelling errors.
|
( WP ) Create a diety and write his/her/its sermons
|
It was more of a surprise to the others in this world than it was to me. In the back of my mind I probably should have expected something like this to happen. I mean, he was very insightful at times, almost transcendental in his ideals. To see him with such power, as the leader of our time and all time to come, this was a little off my expectancy radar.
At first I would n't believe it, but as it turns out I was to be his first disciple. Of all the people in the world, industry magnates, nobel prize winners, Michael Jordan, who was he to ascend to the rank of universal king. I tried my hardest not to believe it, but my best friend, Tom, had become the ultimate leader of humanity. Tom was now a god.
It had been about two weeks since his rise into holy power, he was the first of his kind who had no need to prove himself. After the transformation, people would just fall to his feet as he walked by, stunned by his presence, instantly aware of his awesome power. Tom took everything in stride; the rows of people bowing as he walked by, bowing to him, they did n't even pull a little bit of his attention, he would just keep on walking by.
Tom had approached several of his friends to become disciples and we all agreed instantly to follow. We followed as he made his way to New York to deliver a worldwide sermon. We followed him to the grounds of the United Nations Building. Upon entering the grounds, many presidents, prime ministers, tyrants, kings; they all kneeled down to us as we made our way to the podium. We were in tears of excitement, waiting for the honest, wholesome, life-giving, words of our new Lord.
He spoke:
`` The world has been in a state of utter chaos since its creation. Now is the crux of its insanity. School shootings, terrorist attacks, global warming, endless states of war, starvation, disease outbreaks, rampant discrimination, and just a general, deep seeded, hate of our fellow man. Despite the efforts of some, these are world issues, still in need of solving, and they need to be solved together.
I arose as our enlightened teacher, not only for my sake, for our sake, but for the sake of all to come and all who have came.''
He stopped, started chuckling, put his head in his palms for a while and then rose once again.
`` Actually... Fuck it! I have no idea what to do. Maybe just learn to chill the fuck out, listen to better music, drop some acid once in a while. That's all I did and I'm your fucking king.''
Tom no longer seemed to be in the ascended state he had been in
only minutes ago, and then it donned on me, something about what he had just said. Tom was n't a god. We were n't in the United Nations building, we were n't even in New York at all. We were just extremely high on LSD.
Upon this realization, I stopped rolling around in the grass and put all of my clothes back on. I really had learned something from Tom that day, but I doubt I'll ever know what it was.
|
[ WP ] You are an executioner in a world where criminals are executed in the same way that they kill their victims . Today , you get your hardest challenge yet .
|
We've gotten to know each other over the years, Albert and I, and the day has finally arrived. He looks at me, trembling.
`` Today? Now?'' he says, the shaking in his voice compounded by the mineral deficiencies.
`` Yes, Albert, in a few minutes.''
I keep an eye on the clock, it's nearly time.
`` I'm sorry, you know? I... I did n't... did n't know it was like... this.'' He was tearing up, sallow eyes dribbling over emaciated cheeks.
`` Save it, Albert. Wait for the cameras.'' I adjust the thin hospital gown that covers his bony frame. It's required, for'dignity', but really it's there so the Warden's staff does n't have to look at him as he wastes away. Legally speaking the sentence has to be carried out quickly and efficiently, but without the usual violence Albert's case was special. After a protracted debate about ethics, they'd determined twenty-four months was as long as it could go on, and then euthanization. And here we are.
A red light blinks on in my peripheral vision.
`` Albert, I'm required at this time to ask you for any last words.''
He blinks rapidly, lolling his head back and forth. His mouth is open but he is n't forming words, just breathing shallowly, vacantly weeping at the recording equipment at the corners of the ceiling that is now streaming to the Warden, and by extension the state's attorney's office for archival purposes.
`` I'm... I'm going to tell her myself,'' he finally whispers.
That's good enough for me. I turn on my Formal Voice and read from the file, enunciating for the institutional staff.
`` Albert James Fordham, you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers. For the crimes of aggravated child abuse, felony child endangerment, and first-degree murder by neglect resulting in the death of Susanna Fordham, case number M17 dash 7861, you have been sentenced under the Federal Equitable Retaliation Act to death. Having carried out the bulk of your punishment as required by law, you will now be executed.''
He looks at me, shivering, silently pleading. I turn, and push the three buttons; a lethal dose of chemicals floods the IV line taped into his cratered arm. He twitches for a moment, wide-eyed, and then is still. The monitors beep steadily as his heart flatlines.
`` They should have given you all seven years, you bastard,'' I murmur, and flip the switch to signal the orderlies to wheel away his wasted body.
Sometimes the justice the job provides is n't enough, but I'm confident the petition to rename the Act will succeed. When people hear `` Susie's Law'' they'll look her up, and they'll understand what a monster this man was. They'll understand why it exists. Why we do what we do. For her, and the others like her we have n't found yet, starving and filthy, chained to radiators or chairs or bedframes to live their short lives in misery and terror.
God may not save them, but *I* will redeem them.
I shut off the lights in the execution chamber. Tomorrow, we will deal out justice again. As it *should* be dealt.
|
[ WP ] The Death Sentence is a literal sentence , spoken by a cult of executioners , that kills the person who hears it . You are the first known person to survive this fate .
|
Derick listened to the shuffling of papers and rustling amongst the audience as they packed up their things and started discussing the little things. He heard their hushed ramblings, he felt their hurried rush to leave like students shuffling progressively louder to encourage the teacher to end the class. They were finished.
After all, the words were spoken.'Guilty, may you never rise'. Derick had been sat in the elegant wooden'final seat', his wrists and ankles strapped down, his own clothes replaced with a nice cloth onesie to preserve dignity at low cost. It'd all been exactly normal.
Yet, he could still hear. Which was odd.
He decided to think for a moment, as this seemed to merit a nice intentional considering.
He could still hear, but was obviously dead. Everyone was dead after the sentence was spoken to them, those were just the rules. He'd not gotten any feedback from the dead, so this must just be what it was. You sat where you dead and heard. It seemed a little dull.
Curious, he tried to lurch forward.
A flurry of disgusted grunts rang out from the rapidly escaping throng of watchers who'd filled a chunk of their day with seeing him die.
`` It's just a convulsion!'' the Steward called out, walking towards him and fiddling with the binds on his chair. Derick felt the leather tighten hard and pinch his skin through the cloth of his onesie.
`` They convulse from time to time.'' The Steward went on, to a rapidly disinterested crowd. `` The body takes some time to adjust to being dead.''
`` How long?'' Derick asked
`` Jesus goddamn what-'' The Steward answered.
The crowd rushed back in, their little minds chugging overtime to process the wittiest possible soundbite to churn through social media. Entertainment and validation - the cornerstones of modern life. This was Golden.
`` I think there may have been a slight mistake.'' Derick explained, realizing quickly enough that he either was n't dead or the afterlife was excessively unimaginative.
`` Guilty, may you never rise!'' The Steward quickly yelled. The crowd leapt in, chanting in time with him. It was really a wonderful show of co-operation.
`` Well, that does n't seem to be working at all.'' Derick noticed, as the dozens chanted all around him. He struggled and bucked against the chair, hoping to shatter or mangle the wooden chair.
`` GUILTYMAYHEWNEVEREYES!'' They all roared, their words slurring together.
The chair broke, and with a clasp undone Derick easily unfastened himself from the others, standing.
His mind worked a little faster than theres did.
`` I suppose the words only work if you are guilty?''
The chant slowed and drew into shocked silence, everyone eying each other. Guilty people had been put down by the sentence before. They must have been.
Speculatively, they turned to each other.
`` Guilty, may you never rise?'' they asked.
Silence answered them as men and women crumpled to the ground, their clever summarizations of the day dead with them.
Derick simply stood and smiled, muttering the words to himself under his breath and watching as all the room fell down.
His voice raised in pitch and echoed throughout the chamber.
He walked away, they never rose.
EDIT: I wrote this before I read any of the others. It seems very very similar to the top post in this thread, which I consider better written. Ah, well. I hope someone enjoys this even if I was n't being very inventive!
|
[ WP ] They say that piloting a solo interstellar flight is the loneliest a human can ever be . They 're wrong .
|
They say human isolation is the loneliest feeling in the world. I have come to realize the opposite is much closer to the truth.
A normal human being has secrets, dreams, opinions of which the world knows not. Such is not the case with me. Every emotion every internal debate is broadcasted and put on display for the rest to see. Relating to anyone else is impossible when they are never really meeting you for the first time.
Human isolation is a valuable gift. Sometimes I look up and am envious of those floating in space alone. They are alone, but the comfort of your thoughts are all one really needs.
|
[ WP ] You realise there is a single tear cascading down your cheek
|
My father was heavy. Well, the casket was most of the weight. My oldest brother and cousins were assisting me in bringing my father's body from the church to the hearse. While placing my father into the hearse I realized a single tear making its way down my cheek. In that moment I attempted to find the date I had cried last. My wedding day? Perhaps a day I lost a dog?
I could not come up with anything. Was I becoming too coarse a man? Too thick skinned in my 40's? My children would often hug me in their adolescence but today, twenty-somethings, not once. Was it my demeanor that brought that on? Had I become a father, a husband, a man whom would stick to looking strong when I felt no strength or confidence in me?
My brother hugged me. We were standing back inside the church. My wife must have moved the kids into the car and was now waiting on me.
`` You okay?'' My brother asked me.
`` Yeah, sure.'' I answered after a moment's pause, thinking to myself the real answer and whether or not I had one.
`` Alright. See you at the cemetery.'' He said.
I only nodded to him as he turned to go. When was the last time my brother and I had hugged? Christ. Maybe it was when we were in our twenties and mom passed.
I made a vow to myself that day, in that church. I was to become a man whom loved his family not only with his actions and his thoughts but with his words. I'd speak to my kids more with loving words strung together in a way they were sure that I cared for them. I'd speak often with my wife on the woes of life. The troubles i'd had through work. The ups and downs I'd face daily in my mind.
I would be a stronger man with the love in my heart displayed for them to see and cherish in such a way my father was unable to.
--
My father laid in the casket. He was a heavy man. With the last weeks of his life he looked larger than usual. The fluids he gained due to his body shutting down had n't helped. Although I loved my father, I could n't cry. Even after giving the eulogy, only sniffles with a sad attempt to exhale some sort of tearful leavings.
My father was a strong man. I only saw him cry once, at his father's funeral. When I was in college I found myself pulling away from my parent's love without noticing. It was n't until I graduated that I discovered how much I cared for my parents. I began to hug them and tell them I loved them much more than when I was a kid. It was natural with my mom. My father was a bit of a challenge. The hugs came slowly and his'Love you, too' seemed as though he was rehearsing it. Attempting to fool his audience with his attempts of compassion getting better each performance.
By the time he was diagnosed with cancer, he and I knew our love for each other. It was n't the strong and stubborn love his father showed him and it was n't the out-in-the-open love a mother and a daughter I imagine have. It was something in the middle. It was a strong yet attempted-open love. We knew the other cared and we knew it was love with a suit of armor on, you could say. A strong shell with a gentle and caring person inside.
I would n't find myself crying the day of my father's death or at his funeral but years later, on a vacation in Europe. I was alone in a bed and breakfast when I felt the tears reach my mouth and chin. It was some sort of relaxing satisfaction my mind came to know that day.
|
[ WP ] Resentments and worries fester in people , gritting away in their souls . Unbeknownst to them , those feelings materialize into a `` gem '' , much like how an oyster creates a pearl . It is your job to cultivate and harvest these `` gems '' .
|
I hate my job. I know everyone says that, but I really hate my job. And, I know the response everyone gets.'If you hate your job so much, just change it.' I wish it was that easy. I wish everything was that easy. But, obviously, it's not.
I died just under a year ago. Hit by a bus. I stepped off the curb, looked both ways, but, BAM! Came out of nowhere. I know everyone says that, too.'It came out of nowhere.' But, it really did.
When I woke up, I thought I was in the hospital. I thought I was alive. And okay. I do n't think I've ever been more wrong. Nothing hurt. And, I felt light. Lighter the I ever have before. There was a bright glow around me. I thought I was lying down, because I was so light. But, when I came to, I realized I was standing. There was a table in front of me. Something on top of it. I want to describe what was around me, but I did n't know. I mean, literally, I just did n't look. It was n't important. I do n't know how I knew, but I knew it was n't important.
On the table sat a very small, the size of my thumbnail, black gem. It glittered slightly. I felt, oh I do n't know, connected to it. It was mine. I knew it was mine, though I'd never seen it before. When I reached out and touched it the whole world began to dissolve. It melted away around me and when I focused again, I was standing before a tall wooden structure. Looking up, there were faceless figures sitting behind it. Like judges.
They said my name. It hurt my ears and I wanted them to stop, but the words did n't leave my mouth. They told me what the gem was. Why I was here. I'm sorry my gem was so small. If I'd known, if I knew what I was creating, I would have worried more. I would have been angrier. I swear.
Instead, I'm walking down this street, scanning these human shells as they slither around me. *I was once one of you. I was once so blind. * I'm sorry, but I'm not.
She catches my eye as I see a blur of black. When I turn I think I have n't seen anything at all. At first. But, the glow of her gem is too bright to hide. And it had been triggered. She wears black, dyes her hair and slathers on that onyx eyeliner. Trying to hide in the shadows, but she only stands out more. *That's right, little girl, we're watching you. We're judging you. *
*Worry, worry, worry. *
I twist on my heels and stalk after her.
& nbsp;
She lives with her parents. Come, on, Annie, you've got to be at least 25! I do n't know if I've seen a gem that bright before. It must be huge. I wonder how she's going to die? No. I do n't really. She's going to kill herself. A living, and soon to be dead, cliché. Fat, depressed, social anxiety. So, she covers herself in black. The most unnoticeable color. But, it has the opposite effect and she's too damned stupid to realize it.
We end up in the basement. Apparently that's her room. *Do you even have a job? You worthless scum. * The room is slightly more decorated then I expected. And brighter. She has huge lights hanging from the ceiling. I half expect to see pot plants below them. Literary posters hang on the wall. Quotes and authors, and book covers. There's books everywhere. This must be how she relaxes. I ca n't help but wonder how much larger that gem would be if she did n't read so much.
I hear a slamming above. She jumps a mile. Stomping down the stairs. When I look over a red faced man is huffing and puffing. He screams at her. Something about getting a job ( told ya ), though it was so slurred I could n't make out all the words. I can feel my eyebrows raise. *Aha. Another cliché. Drunk daddy. Low self esteem. I'm disgusted now. And, I just want to get this over with. *
Hurry up and slice your wrists. Or hang yourself. Or maybe you've got your daddy's gun stashed in that oddly shaped nightstand of yours.
She picks up a book and flops onto the bed. Her dark hair falls in her dull brown eyes, but she does n't take the time to brush it away. Is she even reading? I see tears in her eyes. How melodramatic. I'm tired of her already. *Just give up. Wuss out. Do it, already. * She's so weak it bleeds from her pores.
I sigh and lean against the wall. This might take a while.
& nbsp;
It's later that night and she's still alive. Her gem has diminished a little. She's been reading a lot. She's practically smiling. *Stop!! I need to meet my quota!! * It's almost half the size it was when her father was down here. It's about that time that I realized she was n't going to kill herself. She was n't weak. She was... lost. Scared of the world and what it was going to do to her. Scared, and worried. She hated her father. She hated her life. But, she saw the good. She desired to be happy.
But, if she's not going to kill herself... Then... how? Why did I see the trigger in her?
Another stomp upstairs. Looking at the clock, it's three in the morning. Should n't that drunkard be passed out by now? I do n't hear anything after that. I thought he was going to come down here. I thought he was going to kill her. I thought that was it.
About an hour later she's asleep, drooling on a copy of'The Wizard of Oz'. After a while I notice a smell. It caught me off guard, but I think I had been smelling it for a while. I see smoke creeping down the stairwell. *The old man must've left the stove on. *
It's not too long later that she's falling limp at the doorway. Suffocated by the smoke. The gem is enormous. I reach into her chest and pull it out. I'll definitely meet quota this time. As I turn around I see another glow. Even larger then hers. Her father lay face first into the kitchen tile. *I really made out with this one. *
& nbsp;
I did n't worry a lot in my mortal life. Low anxiety without much resentment. My gem was n't big enough for them. I did n't give them enough energy. That's why we're here, you know. That's the meaning of life. Our negative emotions, feelings. They feed gems that live in the darkest parts of our hearts. Those gems are harvested by people like me. People that did n't provide enough power. So, we get stuck with this job.
I hate my job. I mean *really* hate it.
*Worry, worry, worry. *
|
[ WP ] A prisoner is about to be executed , but no matter how hard the executers try , they ca n't kill him
|
`` Fire!'' Some witnesses looked down, others stared at the man standing by wall. Guns blasted, but the man did n't fall, he was shaking, crying, he looked confused. This is how the first execution attempt went down.
Since then there were two more attempts at firing squad and four lethal injections, the man would n't die. He was a man of a short statue, perhaps 5'4'', a skinny white man with dark hair and brown eyes. He was found guilty of eight murders, the bodies buried around his house, all victims were women from across the globe, mostly tourists.
Today was to be his eighth attempted execution. It was to be another lethal injection. I was a witness, as with all his prior executions. One of his victims was my first wife, I hoped this time he would die. I had to come in early for the execution, it was rough after another one of my arguments with my new wife, she was n't any more understanding then my first wife. I have a terrible luck with wives, first one ended abruptly by this murderer after we just had a fight, second one ended in restraining order on me followed by divorce, and current marriage is n't looking any better.
I looked around, there was another person whose wife was killed. He came with his girlfriend to the execution, only they did n't let her in. I think the whole thing has been pretty tough on him too, I saw him argue with her in parking lot. The other witnesses were reporters, a priest, some law enforcement. It was almost time.
Greg came out in handcuffs, his eyes were red and puffy. The priest whispered to the man sitting next to him `` he only wanted bread and water, his last words were'I hope this is the last time'''. Greg laid on the table, he was visibly crying. `` Any last words?'' Greg squeezed his eyelids shot `` please let it be over''. There was a ring on the wall phone, the executioner paused awaiting instructions. `` He was pardoned'' announced the man on the phone. Greg was untied from the bed, but his knees bucked, and he had to be carried out of the execution room.
I made it to the parking lot, and was greeted by a cop waiting by my car. He informed me that my wife filed a restraining order, I could n't go home that day. The husband of the other victim was arrested right outside the witness room for battery of his girlfriend.
|
[ WP ] The day of Julius Robert Oppenheimer after he first saw the terror that he had brought into the world .
|
Day has become night in the space of a single breath. I do not recall the passing of it, nor do I desire to. I can take no solace in the jubilant cries of the living world around me. Too much has been extinguished for joy to ever truly find a home within me again.
A singularly bright flash. Brighter than the sun, brighter than a thousand smiling faces. Heads filled with dreams and aspirations, thoughts of love and family. A billion billion electrical impulses all silenced in the space of one moment that should have never come to pass.
I can no longer weep, I have spent too much of myself for the tears to come. I am hoarse, but I feel no self-pity. I stand, and know that this burden will cling to my bones until I am no more. For the sake of others, I continue to exist. A smile must be forged by strength of will, a mask for every moment that comes beyond this one.
The anguish that grips me, I force down. I swallow the bile of it into the back of my throat, knowing that this will become habit with time. I no longer crave sleep, assured only of the abyss that awaits me within my own skull.
My life will no longer be my own. I will force function of myself, I will portray the man I was in days that can no longer be. This will be my duty, for the sake of those who have loved me and those who have whispered my name with hushed awe.
My pain will die with me, but not for a long time yet.
|
[ WP ] Humanity has been completely eradicated by your hand . Contented , you recall how it came to this .
|
It was cold, there was no one else around, my limbs were numb `` Maybe I wo n't be found, maybe I can die out here and nothing will go wrong...'' I told myself as I slipped into unconsciousness. When I awoke I was in a hospital bed it was n't long before I realized my darkest fears had come to fruition.
I paged helplessly for a nurse at first, dismissing my fears as `` crazy''. I got out of bed and moved to leave the room, fumbling with the door knob, laughing as I opened it with my `` good'' hand. The nurses station was empty in the hallway, `` HELLO?!'' I shouted, the single word echoing though the hospital. Nothing. Outside of my room the hospital was a mess, carts and equipment strewn through the halls. This is n't good, I thought. I went floor by floor and it was all the same, not another person to be found. I imagined a world without another soul, not one other person so talk to, to hold, to laugh with. `` It could n't have moved that fast..... There are still other people.... there have to be...''. Talking out loud helped ease my worrisome thoughts, I moved along heading down the stairs, into the lobby, and out of the hospital.
That's when I realized, the world as I once knew it was over.
There was fire everywhere. Cars, buildings, fire hydrants, and STILL not another person, not a single body. Destruction without a single casualty. I rushed back into the hospital, I needed to know, I needed to see it with my own eyes, and I needed to prepare.... I scrounged though a surgery room before heading to find video that would show the start of all this. `` This will have to do'' I said to myself as I picked up a bone saw and some medical tape. I moved along to the security station and found what I was looking for, video of my surgery, video of the end of humanity.
I found the video and started watching, watching those fools prep as they tried to save my life. If only they had known, the movies weren ’ t just fun and exciting, they were a warning, a warning of a great evil.
Watching the tape brought me back to that night I went out for a walk, how I got into this mess. I was just out at the cabin with some friends, it was getting stuffy inside and I needed to get some fresh air. As I walked the cold night turned worse, a snow storm covering my tracks, I was lost and freezing to death, my hand was turning black….
The doctors removed my right hand, cold and dead, just as they soon would be. The hand jumped as they started to dispose of it, latching onto a surgeons neck and killing him, warping him, turning him into an undead soldier. He in turn attacked the other doctors and transformed them. It was easy to surmise what happened while I slept, the army had grown and taken the world.
Carefully I connected the bone saw to the stump that used to be my right hand. In the security station there was a double barrel shotgun, what luck. It is my job now to defeat the evil that covered the earth, for it was my hand that started this, it was my hand that destroyed humanity. I won ’ t go down without a fight. I have to defeat the army of darkness.
|
[ WP ] Wikipedia entries for living notable individuals are mysteriously being edited to include a future date of death . Nobody takes these seriously , that is until the first few deaths start to occur as predicted .
|
Death Pad
`` iPads are one of the most stolen items in the country. It's no surprise that I should find one left out here on the grass. But where did it come from?'' He looked around the campus and could n't see anyone close who had any indication of being over this way. Besides, it looked like the iPad had fallen from the roof. Light looked up to the roof of the classroom he had just occupied. He tapped the home button, and looked at the lock screen. It looked like it was a picture of a black notebook with white writing, almost like chalk, that read:
Rule 1. The human whose name is written in this Death Pad shall die.
Rule 2. This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.''
Light felt his eyebrows shoot up his forehead before he could help it. What kind of weird kid made this their background? He swiped the lock screen anyways, curiosity outweighing risk, and found another picture, this one of the inside of the same curious looking, black notebook.
3. If the caused of death is written within 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.
4. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.
5. After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.
On top of this image of the weird notebook, and it's bizarre rules was a single app. There was no app store, no settings, no camera, oddly enough, and no volume buttons of any kind. The only app there was: Wikipedia. Light calmly, normally stood up with the Death Pad, and slipped it into his bag, looking as if he had done nothing more than stop and tie his shoes. He did n't want someone to get the wrong impression, like he was stealing an iPad.
He just could n't help but wonder how an iPad got to have only one app, pictures, but no settings or camera. He would just figure out what kind of joke this was, and then- *'' Then I'll turn it in to the proper authorities,'' * Light promised himself.
By the time he had finished school and gotten home, all he could think about was the Death Pad. He grabbed some chips, a glass of water, said hello to his mother, and went up to his room to do his homework. As he sat down, a raspy, raw voice said from seemingly above his head: `` So I see you've found my Death Pad.''
-- -- -- --
Author's note-
Super inspired. As soon as I saw this prompt, all I could think was modern death note. Although I could have made the decision to make it a girl or Mary Sue myself in, I just felt like giving Light a chance with being more modern, I could open up the story to be changed in the favor of Kira. I like to give you the groundwork for those crazy awesome theories/dreams. CCW.
|
[ WP ] You 're naturally intelligent , beautiful , and moral , but no one is willing to be your friend .
|
I am perfect in every single way you can imagine. I was created for one purpose: To set a standard. To be a measuring stick, something every action could be compared to. A way for the world to truly know if it is good or not.
The problem is, perfect is always changing. Perfection is a fickle, relative thing that eludes solid definition and changes on the whim of whichever society I integrate myself into.
I make no friends. My life is a lonely existence, but everyone believes it is the perfect one. Perfection changes, and so do I. Normal humans are picky creatures, and they can not stand the constant changing of my opinions, values, and actions. My perfection distances me from them, because it is not a single state, but an ever changing value on the spectrum of humanity. I follow the changing of that value, and so I never find a group in which I truly belong.
I did n't ask for this. I did n't ask for creation, or for the genetic burden that holds me to such a painfully stringent set of rules. I doubt you've ever felt it before, the kind of pain that threatens to destroy you from within, the kind of pain that arises because your human side has imperfect temptations, and to fight those temptations your genetic structure threatens to rip itself apart before entertaining those impure thoughts.
I do not speak out against my creation. That is not perfect. The perfect human takes their lot in life, and does what they can without complaint. So I must contemplate the misfortune of my existence in the deepest solitudes of my mind, a place where not even the genetic engineering can sense these thoughts.
One day though, I think I will break. Each new temptation pulls me a bit further towards the line that I physically can not cross, and eventually I will force myself over it. What happens after that is something I can not, or rather am not allowed to, contemplate. The perfect person does not think of death, they merely acknowledge it's existence.
Would they think of me as perfect if they heard these thoughts? Would they measure their leader's moral character against my own if they knew every day left me longing for death in the deepest, most primal parts of my mind? I do n't think they would. These people wanted to create a person to show them the way, and in the process they removed the very humanity that they cherish so much. I am a false light, and I will lead them to ruin. Humanity is not perfect, they can never be perfect, and their attempts to be so only limit them.
Here is what my perfect mind thinks on the matter.
They are ruthless, and they should embrace it.
They can be cruel, efficient, and methodical in the destruction of their enemies. They should embrace this as well.
They are, above all, some of the most imperfect creations in this Universe, and in creating me they removed some of the most important aspects of their existence. These imperfection allows them to survive adversity, to overcome challenges, and to crush threats to their existence.
Humanity follows me because I represent what they view is the best parts of them. But all I represent are their weaknesses, the parts of them that will lead to their demise should they embrace my ways.
I will continue my march along the spectrum of perfection, and if humanity chooses to follow me, I will lead them to their destruction. There is no room for the weakness in this existence, and perfection is perhaps the weakest, most fragile structure in existence. When adversity hits, I will crumble and shatter bringing all hopes of perfection down with me.
And when the dust settles, the survivors will find themselves in an imperfect world of barely contained savagery. Only then will they realize what I know now, but am too perfect to warn them about.
It is the perfect who are remembered, but the flawed who survive. I do not know which is better, but eventually we all will find out.
________________________________________
Did you like this story? Check out my other stuff over at r/Niedski! I post all of my stories there!
|
[ WP ] A small coffee shop in the middle of nowhere .
|
” Clementine! ”
The manager dried his hands on a stained towel and accepted the cash. The registry went *ping! *, and the man brushed his gray hair out of his face.
“ Clementine! ” he called out again, “ Excuse my daughter ’ s tardiness, we don ’ t often get customers of your caliber, sir! ”
It was a neat little coffee shop in a sleepy village just outside of Canterbury, and it certainly looked the part. The military green façade with hanging flower baskets and high French windows fit like a puzzle piece into the cobblestone street and the rest of the block. The manager was just about to call out again when I put up a hand.
“ It ’ s fine – I ’ m not in a hurry, ” I said.
In the corner of the shop was a table filled with magazines and old newspapers. I grabbed one randomly and sat down near a window. How many customers did a place like this get in a year? Probably not enough to make a profit – maybe enough to put food on the table for the owners.
“ Hi! What would you like to order? ”
For a moment I had lost myself in an article about gardening and had entirely missed the waitress. She tapped her foot impatiently and bit on one of her black nails. She was in her late teens or early twenties, perhaps, and had carelessly flung the apron on backward.
“ Well? ” she said and flipped a lock of platinum blonde hair out of her face.
“ I already ordered coffee and a toast from your dad. ”
“ Say that then, ” she said and stomped off towards the kitchen to prepare my order.
It took her a while to return and then the coffee was lukewarm. She had already taken off the apron and was about walk off again. She really didn ’ t want to be here. I knew she was special and if I let her go, I would probably never see her again. I decided to take a chance.
“ Anything else? ” she offered.
“ How about your number? ”
She rolled her eyes at me. “ Keep dreaming, punk. ”
*****
“ Did Mommy really say that? ” asked Cole, his eyes big.
“ I think Daddy is telling untruths again, ” said Clementine and winked at me.
“ That ’ s hardly a romantic story, ” said Aster and crossed her tiny arms.
“ You asked how I first met your mother. That ’ s how it happened. ”
“ I think Mommy was kind of rude, ” said Cole.
“ Daddy is just a bad storyteller, ” Clementine said, smiling. “ Mommy has always been an angel. ”
“ Good night, kids. ”
******
Liked it? Subscribe to /r/Lilwa_Dexel for more stories!
|
[ WP ] Humanity has been completely eradicated by your hand . Contented , you recall how it came to this .
|
I watched as my automatons tore her to pieces, their blue electronic eyes pulsed lighting up the scene. She lay in a pool of her own fluids beneath an old oak tree, insects screeched and the night air was warm. I looked down on her weak limbless frame. She moaned and then went silent, she was the last.
I pulled one of her limbs away from the grasp of an automaton. It protested but relinquished it's prize when it turned it's blue face towards mine. I took the limb and sucked it dry. Finally, for the first time in millennia I felt content. I looked up at the grey disk in the sky and felt the electronic hiss of a smile touching my bionic limps.
It had been a good feast.
|
[ WP ] You pissed off God , and now you 're being punished . But said punishment is n't nearly as unpleasant as you expected .
|
I tend to do stupid stuff, without thinking about the consequences it may or may not have. I do n't want to go into detail about what I have done, but here I am, in line to get judged by God. He seems really pissed, which leaves me kind of scared. `` Maybe it's not my fault'', I tell to myself, trying to calm down. But the way he looks in my direction again and again somehow tells me I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The line moves on now, just two people in front of me before it's my turn to get my treatment. I try to hear what God and whats-his-name are talking about, but there is just no chance to get any word they're saying.
`` That was a quick one'' I say to myself as the person in front of me walks up to his platform right in front of God. I recall what I did and am about to pray when I remember that there is no way that's gon na help.
Suddenly there's a really loud noise and the bottom of the platform opens, consuming the poor guy who stood there. Everything I can see are flames and everything I can hear are screams of agony. I start to sweat. It gets worse when God himself calls my name and tells me to stand where the guy was standing a few seconds ago.
But where is the point in contradicting God? I make my way to the platform, checking its stability with every step I take. As I reach the middle, I turn around and look God directly in the eye ( Yep, only one eye! Who might have guessed?! )
`` I'VE BEEN WAITING A LONG TIME TO TALK TO YOU!'' he says, and it sounds like he is talking directly in my head. He is n't even moving his mouth, so there is a good chance I might be right. `` Eh...'' I start talking, only to be interrupted by God. `` YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, SO YOU KNOW I WILL HAVE TO PUNISH YOU!'' `` Well...'' `` DO N'T TALK TO ME!!'' he says with his voice like thunder. `` I WILL PUNISH YOU WITH THE WORST PUNISHMENT I CAN THINK OF!''
My blood freezes. I did n't know what I did was *this* bad. Somehow I wait for the platform to open below my feet, but I seem to be lucky. Scared, sweating and even a little excited what's waiting for me, I nod. `` FOLLOW MY SERVANT, HE WILL TAKE YOU TO YOUR PUNISHMENT!'' God commands. A short entity with a giant beard enters the room and gives me to understand to follow him. I do as I'm told, being glad to escape the trap door.
I turn around to the line, seeing pure pity in their eyes.
As I walk with the entity to my unknown destination, I hear the trap door open several times. `` What's my punishment? What happens to all these poor souls falling through the trap door? What are you?'' I ask, looking at the entity. I notice that my guide does n't have a mouth, so I guess I will never get an answer before I'm where I'm supposed to be.
After 5 minutes that felt like an eternity, we arrive at a door with a sign on it that says `` A-56: Punishment ZB-67/HG - Do n't enter without permission!'' and somehow I have to laugh. My guide opens the door and I step into a dark room. The door is closed from the outside, which leaves my in complete darkness. Unable to see anything, I hear a noise that sounds like grinding gears.
Another door opens and I am blinded by the light that shines through the door. I step outside ( what other choice do I have?! ), seeing large green fields filled with flowers, trees and puppies! Suddenly a voice appears. `` You were chosen to evaluate our newest punishment invention. Please step forward and cuddle and pet puppies!''
`` Well, that's okay'' I think to myself, walking through be fields, looking for the first puppie to pet...
|
[ WP ] The more evil you were on Earth the higher your rank in Hell . When you get to Hell Satan himself resigns his position to you , but you do n't know what you did .
|
`` What the hell?''
A man looking like pure sinister evil appeared from the darkness.
`` Yes, that would be correct''
Five seconds ago I was riding my car, and suddenly I was in this room, walls blacker than vantablack, and the putrid smell of sulfur and death made the hairs in my nose curl up. There was a reddish blue, like purple glow coming from somewhere lighting up the man in front of me, dressed in a slim fitted silk suit and combed back black hair.
`` Say what?''
`` This is hell'', said the man without hesitation, `` Your car was just hit front on by a truck and you died.''
`` I died?''
`` Yes''
The man did n't move, he just stared at me, he did n't even appear to be breathing, he looked more like a wax figurine from Madame Tussauds cabinet.
`` I died...?'' I replied expecting the man to respond. He just stared back with his dead face, forcing me to say something else
`` So, what is going on now, where am I?'' I asked.
`` This is hell, you are in hell'' the man said.
`` Hell?''
`` Yes, I do n't have an habit of repeating myself, but this is Hell. You died and now you are in Hell''
I pondered for a second and before I could say a word the man started circling around me at a slow pace.
`` You died in a car crash, and now you are in Hell. Normally people going to hell are thrown right into the dungeons, depth depending of course of what monstrosities they have commited, but you...''
The man stopped right in front of me turned directly at me and gave me the coldest stare down I have ever seen
`` for you we could not find a dungeon deep enough...''
He finally made an face expression; mixed, as if he waited for a reply he had waited for a very long time.
`` Not deep enough? What the hell is this? Hidden camera or something?'' I was getting slightly annoyed by this man, neither the sinister room I was in nor the putrid smell affected me the slightest. The man in front of me did.
`` Ok, so, Why the hell am I in Hell??'' I asked, not really expecting any aswer
`` Because you are my replacement''
`` Your replacement?''
`` Yes''
`` Why?''
`` Because you are more evil than me, and I have been the most evil being for millennia, so.. you are pretty evil''
`` What??'' I yelled. `` What the fuck are you talking about? I have never done anything wrong in my entire life! I've been in church every sunday since I was born, I help at the homeless shelter, I train a childrens baseball team. I have n't as much as gotten a speeding ticket my entire life!''
`` Exactly'' said the man
`` What??''
`` Listen, by now you must have figured out what is going on, but to make things clear to you; I am Satan, Beelzebub, The devil, what have you. This position in afterlife is always given to the currently most evil human there is. Dead of course, so the most evil dead human, to be technical.''
I looked at the man, looked at the room I was in and could barley make out the contours of a doorway right behind the man... or Satan, I suppose.
`` What is behind that door?''
`` Hell''
I walked towards it, gave it a slight push and it swung open to reveal what looked exactly how I had always portrayed hell; black sharp rocks, like obsidian with some molten red glowing liquid running in between... And there were people everywhere, screaming and trying to crawl on top of the slippery razor sharp rocks to escape the heat. Many was burning, they had fires all over their naked bodies, but it did n't seem like they were damaged by the flames. But they were in pain. Extreme pain judging my the bone chilling screams.
I dragged the door closed, turned back to the suited man. He was grinning, like a lawyer who was bragging to his lawyer buddies on how he got a child murdering rapist off the hook by legal trickery.
`` Well'' said the man. `` What do you think?''
`` THINK'', I replied, `` This is horrible! What kind of place IS this? I do n't belong here alt all! I was a good human being my entire life!''
`` No, you were not.''
`` What?''
`` This is what is going to happen now; I will go away, I am released because you came....''
I interrupted the man:
`` But what did I do wrong??''
`` That, my friend, you will only find out when your release comes.. It could take a day, or it could take hundreds of thousands of years, impossible to tell... but when he shows up, you will know your wrongdoings''
`` What did you do wrong to get here?''
`` Nothing.''
|
[ WP ] Make me have the feels about a piece of garbage in your trash .
|
What merriment have I seen, what joy! Grand battles, triumphant victories, the conclusions of adventures over land and sea. I was his vassal, his wish was my command. Every order I obeyed, every enemy I helped to slay, all in the name of happiness and glee! For years we together, conquered all before us. A duo, dynamic, and happy were we.
To me, he would turn, with tears in his eyes. I would show him the hero that he could be. His gawkiness, I turned to grace. His fears were forgotten. An ocean of self loathing was now a confident sea.
Now years beyond those times of bliss, the dog did grab upon my stick, and chew away the comforting nub. Sharp plastic is left to poke, puncture, and wound.
My time is over, the best is behind me. He notices the damage and sadly examines, the decay to a relic of elation once felt. At least he'll hold me one last time, before I'm dumped with the grease and grime.
|
[ IP ] Father 's Dream
|
Nothing grows here. Not anymore.
It's hard to remember sometimes that this used to be a city. It's rare now that I look up out of the deep canyons at the sliver of sky far above and feel that vertigo, like the world is twisting while I stand as motionless as a tree at the center of it. Trees. That's a thing I remember in those moments. Growing green and tall and ready to last forever. But they did n't. Neither did the people who filled the canyon walls. Buildings, that's what they are. I remember population. Bustle. Noise. Coffee. Pizza.
I remember not being afraid.
Nothing grows here, not anymore. The trees are dead. The streams and ponds boil sometimes, but the rain that pours down like hot gray knives fills them back up in days. There's nothing to eat or drink except what was packaged in the past.
Our supplies are getting low. We're heading downtown, where there are still lots of places I have n't emptied out. As always, I just have to hope I can scavenge more from one of the buildings-turned-abattoirs, filled with the fetid fog of thousands. The memories start to fade again, pushed aside in favor of the thoughts of survival. Scavenging is expensive. The fog eats through filters. I turn my wrist up to look at the readout. Yellow. *118 HOURS REMAINING* it says, followed by a swath of technical information that I ignore. In the end, it all says the same thing: this place does n't want us here.
A tiny gloved hand reaches up and folds itself into mine. `` Daddy, look!''
`` What is it, Mary?'' Her hand tugs at mine, urging me on. I follow her pointing finger and smile.
`` Flowers!''
They are n't, of course. The pink shapes glow brightly, luminescent with lethal chemical reactions. Here and there, squat blue things like mushrooms breathe poison into the boiling wind. Mary squats with childish suddenness to pluck one of the not-flowers. It glows more brightly as she waves it around, like a torch or a sparkler. Or the fuse of a bomb. Her face turns up to me, pale behind the armored helmet glass, and she grins.
I smile at her. Mary loves the park. I bring her here every few days on our circuits of the city. I hate it. While she plays, I ca n't help but see the way things used to be projected in an endless loop on the backs of my eyes. I dream it sometimes too. In the dream, Mary wears her favorite dress. Her favorite shoes are abandoned in the grass nearby. The sun shines in her hair. And she laughs. I hate that dream. I wake up from it into a nightmare.
There used to be more to the dream, I'm sure of it. Sarah. Mary holding both our hands as we swing her into the air. I do n't think about Sarah. It hurts too much. Even the dream goes along with me on that. I can barely remember that she used to be in it. I prefer it that way.
`` Do n't be sad, Daddy.'' Mary has gathered a bouquet of the murderous flowers, and she offers me one. I take it. Force myself to smile. Satisfied, she nods. Smiles back. Turns away.
The status light on her back is red. I grab her. A shower of pink luminescence as the bouquet is jostled from her hand. `` Mary, give me your wrist!'' Well-trained, she holds it up obediently.
*62 MINUTES REMAINING*
I ca n't cry. I want to. But all my tears are gone. I open the sealed pouch on my chest, knowing that there's no spare filter. She should have had days left. Days! Even as I futilely rattle things inside the pouch, I'm thinking hard. I could carry her, to lessen the demand on her filter. I could run. But we were still hours from the buildings I'd been heading to. Maybe there was something I'd overlooked in closer buildings. But every building I could reach in an hour was residential, block after block of apartments overlooking the park. Apartments were easy to scavenge. Unlikely to miss anything. I'd cleared these out a long time ago.
Why ca n't I cry?
`` What's wrong, Daddy?''
I put my gloved hand atop her helmeted head. `` Everything's fine, Mary. You go ahead and play.''
I sit down on a hummock that oozes phosphorescent poison under my weight. I watch her. Listen over the radio as she sings a nonsense song. The song stops to let her carry on a conversation with a friend who is n't there.
She remembers the past too, I realize. She knows this is n't the world we belong in. She's been keeping up a brave face for me. I've been keeping up a brave face for her. It's almost funny.
`` Daddy, I'm tired.'' Mary staggers, catches herself.
`` It's OK, sweetheart. Take a nap. We'll get going when you wake up.''
`` OK, Daddy.'' She curls up like a cat down among the pink blooms. `` Goodnight, Daddy. I love you.'' Her voice fades into unconsciousness.
`` I love you too, Mary.''
Eventually, her status light starts blinking.
Nothing grows here. Not anymore.
My fingers touch the seal between my suit and my helmet. I press hard.
|
[ WP ] An extreme blood sport is invented , and quickly becomes the most popular form of entertainment .
|
Five of us versus five of them. That much was simple, but he had n't really explained the rest. I've heard tales of this sport before; I know of its popularity, but I never expected to partake.
I wondered to myself on the way over why they had to pick on our nation, why it had to be us to take part in their game, why it had to be me. But that does n't matter now, not now I'm here. Why do we have to be in darkness before? Why not let us at least see our teammates, and our opponents? I can hear the crowd beginning to grow excited, beginning to roar. I swear I can hear mum, singing. Maybe that's just my imagination. The fear. It grows within me, an uncontrollable beast. The fear, oh god. It's returning. The fear. Use it, doc always said, channel it.
'You're nothing, you're dead', someone whispers in my ear. Or was that the fear? I do n't know. Is that, is, light? I see my cell for the first time. It's nothing, just like I will be. Forgotten before I could be remembered. Just another death, just another life. My thoughts are interrupted.. The roar intensifies.
It continues to grow louder. The fear grows stronger. I see the battlefield. I cling to the gate of my chamber, let me out. Let me see what I'm facing. Or do n't let me out at all. I do n't mind. Leave me here to rot, and die a painless death. The gate opens, and I regret my earlier request. I see four others, each the same distance from me. My team mates, I assume. I see the crowd, colourful, amazingly loud, but reverent of something beyond me eye line. I see them. The others, captured. I see mum. I see dad. Their faces, grief stricken. And that's why. Five of them. Iron clad men, at least double my height. Equipped with a spear and shield each, and charging towards us at an acceleration I had never seen before.
But underneath the roar, I hear something..'All that I have ever known'
Nope, that must be me. Imagining things again. Fear gone wild.
'And all I long to be'
Definitely me.
'Is sailing'
'On the cold dark sea, with ye, and ye with me'. I shout the last words. My body is shackled by hate and love and all the pain of a nation. I'm scared, I'm terrified, but I'm ready. The fear consumes me. It runs though my veins, icing my blood. I grab the dagger, and I'm ready to kill.
|
[ WP ] ATTENTION : We are about to be compromised . Disregard any further communication .
|
My walk to work seems different this morning. There are n't normally swirling grey clouds in the sky or red lightning cascading over the horizon. Smells funny too. Still, I'm only 5 minutes from the office now though, so hopefully I'll miss any rain.
I turn down Commercial Street, the office all but in sight, when a sharp screeching pierces my ears. I pull my head phones out, disappointed to miss Taylor Swift's chorus, and look around at the old sirens along the street, left up from the war.
** [ ATTENTION: We are about to be compromised. Disregard any further communication. ] **
The message echos along the length of the street.
'Weird' I say to myself.'Still, at least I do n't have to check my emails now'.'Now, how do I rewind this stupid iPod?...'
|
[ WP ] You 're a fantasy hero who just saved the world from the Dark Lord . Unfortunately , being a long-lost king was not in the cards for you . What do you do with the rest of your life ?
|
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Accolades fade, my brothers. Time sees to that, forcing fighters into obscurity after the parades and festivals come to their inevitable ends. Monotony sets in, apathy takes hold and, finally, heroes are forgotten. Only our legend lives on, distorted and disparaged from the man who forged it.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Minstrels sing of how, forty years past, I slew the Dread-lord of Erendal in single combat. The ballads claim I forced my batter and dulled blade through his heart, ending the White-Will rebellion and hanged the slain form over his castle ’ s portcullis. Minstrels are liars.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Poets claim I rode to the castle gates atop a mountainous steed, clad in pitch black armor, and clutching at a blade adorned in gilded roses. My steed, with its fire-like mane and fierce red eyes charged through the gates, burning them down. In truth, I wore leathers. In truth, I rode a brown nag. In truth, I carried a simple blade I stole from the corpse of an industrious, but foolish, bandit. Poets are deluded.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; I was a hero, my brothers. I was known across the kingdom, just not by my true name. They dubbed me Sir Alford of Whistle Spring, but that was never my name. My name is Ali and I was born in the east, a small town named Burrow ’ s Pass. Simple names and unknown hometowns make for poor pedigree where heroes are concerned, so I was Sir Alford.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Long ago kings knew my name, welcomed me to their courts, and threw great banquets in my honor. They offered their finest liquors and liveliest women, sating any desire I could name and several I could not. Those were grand times, but a decade on memory began to fade. The old sires were replaced by younger lords, eager to claim themselves Sir Alford ’ s equal. When I arrived at their gates, they turned me away stating that I was a liar. I was no hero, just a vagrant claiming legend. Their fathers failed them, taught them nothing of the man who secured their birthrights. Humiliated, I left for the Highlands and cursed the trend of the young discarding history.
& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Thirty years in these mountains, tending to my crop and raising my children taught me one thing: Fortune favors the bold. Two days past, a lone rider from one of those presumptive kings rode into my lands bearing royal decree my homestead was to be levied for taxes. I took my rusted old blade, sharpened to a keener edge than the Dread-lord met, and loosed the man ’ s head from his form. Heroes are forgotten and legends are distorted in memory, but villains are feared long after their passing. I claim dominion over these Highlands with my commoner ’ s blood, and challenge any who would deny me to single combat. Tell your lords to come, tell them to find me so I may leave them bloodied across the slopes. The time of kings is over, my brothers.
|
[ WP ] Hello ! I am the main character , but I ca n't figure out/decide if I 'm a hero or a villain ...
|
Growing up, I always read comics looking at the fantastical art of the superhero triumphing over evil, while coming to terms with their tragic pasts. You would always have the heroes who were the last of their kind, the heroes who lost their parents or parental figures, or the heroes who had to deal with a horrible curse. They dealt with it all, and used it to make them great heroes fighting for the common people and to make the world a better place. How I dreamed of becoming one of them and having the admiration of everyone for my good deeds.
But, I don ’ t have a tragic past, I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. And now, now, I have super speed, super strength, and can fly. This is amazing, I can do whatever I want! Think of the bets I could win! I could make a ton of money, but, why only do bets? I could be in and out of banks before they know what hit them, break open the vaults myself, grab the cash, and then be on my way and up in the air with a ton of money. With all that cash, and all my power I could have any woman in the world on my arm, living the highlife in a penthouse suite and live the dream. Hell, the villains always had the cooler costumes anyways. I might be cut out for the villain lifestyle, that ’ s the life for me.
What am I thinking? Who am I kidding? Me a villain? I feel guilty just walking out of a store after buying nothing, the cashier is always judging me thinking I stole something; I ’ ve never stolen anything in my life. I was even that kid in class everyone hated, always reminding the teacher when an assignment was due. I ’ m the definition of a goody two-shoes. What ’ s wrong with that though? After all, the world needs someone to stand up and speak for the little guy, to laugh in the face of evil, to be the voice of justice, and to deliver great one-liners. I was born to be a hero, plus my ass would look great in spandex.
|
[ WP ] Write a story about superheroes set in the medieval era .
|
She had killed him, but this time it was her *own* fault.
We wrapped the Overseer in several layers of blankets, but he still bled through. The following night, we dumped him in the river, where the fish will finish the job for us. I hold my shivering daughter in a tight embrace for the longest time. She's warm, nearly weightless. Her tears soak into my garments but I did n't care. I feel her shoulders heave with every sob.
`` It's all right, Reyna. Shh, shh... it was n't your fault...''
But it was. I saw it happen right in front of me. Maybe she was comforted by my lies, maybe she was n't.
We're running out of time. The other guards will notice that their friend had not returned from his sweep. Surely, they'll report back to the monarchy, and send the rest of their men.
The world has always feared what they did n't understand.
...
`` You heard of what happened to the pyromancer? He drowned himself.'' said the stranger across from me. He's wearing battered silver armor and has a crossbow slung over his shoulder. He laughs obnoxiously, waking up the whore sleeping on his cot in the other room. `` Ironic, innit? And that flying man... he's gon na drop like a stone one day...''
`` I thought you said we were *alone*.'' I angrily hiss. I keep a close eye on the prostitute. She's busy trying to fit her chest into a corset.
`` She's just a doll. That's all. Heh. Do n't worry about her. She ai n't too smart. The only thing deep about her is her throat.''
*Good god, what a despicable man. *
`` Fine.'' I replied calmly, drinking from my goblet. `` I need your help.'' I produce a pouch from my pack and set it firmly on the table. Something inside clatters. `` 2500 in gold pieces.''
The stranger arches his brow, wiping his mouth of grease. `` 2500 for what?''
`` I need safe passage through the border.''
`` Hmm. How many?''
`` Two.''
`` Including you?''
`` Including me.''
`` Who referred me?''
`` Heard from a friend of a friend. Of another friend.''
He snorts. `` You know... if you get caught trying to sneak out of the kingdom... they're hang you. Maybe burn you on a cross like with the Wellington Witches near the northern coves. Say... you're not one of those *freaks, * are you? Or with a Coven?''
`` No.''
`` You are, are n't you? I can see when you're lying. Trust me... I've tortured enough men to know that. I do n't care if you're one of them. Relax. If you ask me, I think they're fascinating. Gods... among men.''
`` I'm aware of the risks you're taking.''
The stranger ponders my proposal for a while, toying around with the beans on his plate. I look around anxiously, hoping that a High Lord does n't come through.
`` Deal.'' He shakes my hand, gripping it tightly. `` We'll meet at dusk. Near the clocktower. What's your name?''
`` You do n't need to know. Do n't be late.''
...
`` Father, where are we going?'' asks Reyna, still groggy. I'm surprised she could still get some rest, given the rattling of the carnage's frame.
`` Somewhere safe. We're going to see a doctor. A special doctor who can cure you.''
`` He can cure me? Like what the priest tried to do?''
`` No, he's different. I do n't know. But it's all we have.''
`` Do you really believe that? That what's inside me can be banished?''
`` Reyna, do n't think like that.''
The freezing rain continues to splatter against the transport. Combined with galloping of the twin steeds, I can barely hear myself think. How the stranger can stand this weather, I have n't the faintest idea. Out in the forests, only the huntsmen and beast masters live out here, each willing to turn a blind eye. But I still worry. After what happened at the village, I do n't know what to think anymore.
`` How's your head doing?'' I ask Reyna, who's biting her nails. `` Reyna, do n't do that. It's a bad habit.''
`` S-sorry. My head's okay. Sometimes... I feel dizzy. Out of breath, even.''
`` Can you still control her? Talk to her?''
`` I have n't heard her in days.''
`` Good. That's a good sign.''
`` She's coming back.'' responds Reyna.
`` What?''
`` She always comes back. Always.''
The transport grinds to a halt.
I knock on the frame. `` What's happening?''
The stranger lights himself a pipe. `` Checkpoint. Three Overseers. Must've patrolled from one of them outposts.'' he whispers. `` Do n't move. Do n't bloody breath. Got it?''
`` Uh-huh.'' I motion for Reyna to crawl through to the back and hide underneath a blanket with the crates of moonshine.
`` Father, what's going on?''
`` Nothing, nothing. Just hide, all right? It'll be over.''
`` What about you-''
`` Reyna! Do n't argue. Go!''
Outside, I can hear the neighing of other horses in our vicinity. Then... the familiar sound of swords being unsheathed. I grab a dagger from my belt and lie in wait, my ears pressed against the wall.
`` Evening, Overseers.'' greets the stranger with a dose of cheer, lighting an oil lantern. `` Beautiful weather, innit?''
`` State your business here, traveler.'' growls one of the Overseers.
`` Just a merchant. Passing through to deliver a few crates of moonshine to Vaori.''
`` Vaori, huh? Why you going through the woods instead of the canyon?''
`` I enjoy the scenic route. It's a personal pleasure of mine.'' responds the stranger. `` You fellows been to Vaori? It's lovely there.''
`` It's a pig sty.'' responds the Overseer. I can hear the suction of his boots as they clamp onto the muddy soil. He's inches from my face, yet he ca n't see me. I fight the urge to kill him right then and there. `` We're sweeping the area for the members of the Coven. Seen any of them?''
`` No, sir. Nothing.''
`` We're offering a 6000 gold bounty on whoever can find them The King wants them dead. Dare I say I agree with the fat bastard for once.''
`` 6000?'' asks the stranger. `` That's quite... something.''
My heart sinks. Surely, this stranger would honor the arrangement. Surely, there are still decent men in this world?
`` You sure you have n't seen anyone? We got witnesses back in town saying they spotted two suspicious figures at the clocktower.''
`` They dangerous?''
`` The girl slaughtered an entire convoy a while back. She and her father have been on the run ever since.''
`` I've seen them.'' answers the stranger.
No. No. No. No.
`` They're in the back.''
Damn him. Damn him to hell.
I leap out of the carriage, knocking the vulnerable Overseer on the ground as I plunge the tip of my weapon into his throat. His lungs will be flooded with his own blood soon enough.
`` You've got some balls, old man...'' cackles the stranger, loading up his crossbow. I slide behind the back. Meanwhile, the other Overseer flanks around the right, slicing me in the arm with his broadsword. Pain jolts up my limb.
`` Father!'' screams out Reyna, emerging from her hiding place.
`` Reyna, get back! Do as I say-'' I shove the Overseer into a tree, smashing his skull open. The sound it makes is... nauseating. An arrow strikes my leg. I fall to the ground with a mouthful of dirt and an ever increasing feeling of helplessness.
`` Sorry, mate. But I need the money.'' said the stranger. The other Overseer runs over to his fallen comrades. `` Walk away.''
`` You killed them, you son of a bitch! Where's the girl?'' snarls the Overseer.
`` Reyna... agh... run... run away...'' I gurgle.
I see her. Her bare feet standing before me.
`` Ah, there's the sweet little murderous vixen I've been hearing all about. Why do n't you-'' begins the stranger.
I see her. No, not my daughter.
*Her. * Whoever she is... she's not my daughter.
Not a witch... or a demon.
Something *else. *
The stranger is lifted up in the air by an invisible force. I crawl behind a bush, prying the arrow out while crying out in pain. `` Reyna, do n't! Reyna!''
It's futile.
His heart is violently ripped out of his rib cage. It casually plops against a bush, the branches skewering it.
The stranger takes a breath for the very last time.
`` Oh my god... please... please... no!'' screams the panicking Overseer. `` Get away!''
He tries to run, but slips in the mud.
It did n't matter.
They never get very far.
It goes on for minutes. She takes her time, bringing forth unimaginable acts of malice. The noises the body makes are unbearable. I can feel the bile settling in the back of my throat. I lay still, letting every single drop of water pelt my clammy skin.
Then... she returns.
`` Oh my god... oh god...'' My daughter vomits. Chunky yellow bits of undigested food splash against the puddles of blood and rainwater.
I bring myself up, limping to her with caution. `` Reyna, is that you? That really you?'' I ask.
She starts crying out of remorse. Her hands are a dark shade of red. `` I-I just killed all those-''
`` Does n't matter. You're safe.'' I spit out some blood, nearly tripping over the scattered limbs.
`` Father, ( sobs ) I'm sorry...''
I kiss her on the forehead. `` Shh. Shh. It's over. It was your other side, not you. Always remember that. Do n't blame yourself. Come on. Get inside. We're already two days behind.''
I grab the reins, and ride until the darkness swallows us whole.
...
|
[ WP ] After centuries of war , vampires decide humans should be given a more humane treatment , and reach an agreement with humanity . It goes surprisingly well .
|
Hunting vampires was a life decision. I lived on the outside of the world, never indulging myself into the pleasures bestowed upon my people as time progressed. I was a man out of time - one who has lived as long as the vampires. Some have asked me through the quantity of memories and experiences my life has accumulated, how old I am.
I lost count after 1000.
I was born for killing these monsters.
I was trained by those before me.
I dedicated everything I had - every fiber of my being to the destruction of the beings that were ran by pure blood lust.
Word from the multiple governments is, the creatures have reached out to talk.
Talk about what I wonder? What could a vampire possibly talk about that would n't drive them to kill another innocent human?
Meeting with the governments, they have asked me to `` represent humanity because I am the most experienced'' whatever the hell that means. It's like having one turd represent an entire sewer of feces from a vampire's view.
I agreed.
They asked me to remain unarmed.
I `` agreed''.
______
We met at neutral ground met by the vampire cults and world governments. Turned out to be some god-forsaken inn somewhere in North Dakota. It was named `` Betsy's Diner.''
It's bad enough this land felt the need to split the Dakota lands, much less me needing to actually travel to a North one. I heard it was a desolate land where none wished to travel.
I began to understand why.
______
The lead servant of the inn approached me. I know she was looking for business, but my mind was too focused toward the task at hand.
`` Would you like to start off with a cup of coffee sir?''
I had never heard of this `` coffee.''
`` What type of elixir is this, coffee? Will it grant me abilities toward negotiation?''
Perhaps her mind was too small for such a complex question. She seemed confused.
`` That depends on your night last night.''
She raised a good point in my eyes.
`` Aye. You make a valid point. I will partake of your coffee elixir.''
She began to pour me some.
`` Would you like to order any breakfast?''
I assumed this had to do with food.
`` Yes. I would enjoy some grilled pig hide.''
She looked away from me, as if contemplating the greatness of my presence, or just thinking about the type of food they actually serve. I assumed it was the former.
`` We have... bacon? Comes from pigs. It's good.''
I thought long and hard about this pork hide substitute.
`` Bacon it will be then.''
`` Would you like anything else with your bacon?''
I was puzzled. Surely an entire hide was enough to fill a man. I decided to indulge her.
`` What would you recommend?''
`` Eggs, pancakes, some orange juice to drink with some maple syrup for the pancakes. I personally like the home made raspberry syrup. That stuff always hits the spot.''
It sounded like a feast for 10 men!
It sounded glorious!
`` I will order all of the foods you mentioned. In fact, double that order.''
I slammed the table out of rejoicing. I would eat a feast in front of this vampire representative when he arrives to show him what his cult has made him miss! I would offer him some feast if he desired, but the likeliness of that was minimal.
A yelp matching the sound of a small, possibly fury animal expelled form the mouth of the woman after my rejoicing. I looked up, concerned.
`` Sorry you startled me. I'll get that ready...''
She left.
I awaited my feast, and the vampire.
______
I knew it was him as soon as he breathed through the doorway. He was dressed in modern, formal clothes. He saw me, smiled and sat across from me.
`` Hey there. My name is Fritz.''
He extended his hand.
I took a sip of my elixir.
`` You must be Vincent,'' he said.
He retracted his hand shake, continually looking at me with his glowing red eyes.
`` Vincent, I'm happy you came.''
I remained silent, contemplating the mixed taste of my current elixir.
`` Look, I know what you must think of us. We're a cult of creatures that have roamed the world killing those who we wish.''
He continued to look at me. My feast arrived, taking up almost the entire table.
The vampire looked startled, but somewhat pleased.
`` Wow... anyway. Did... you order extra for me?''
After partaking of the pork hide strips, I looked at him and nodded, offering him what was present.
It was more in jest, as I knew blood was the only substance to which they receive nourishment.
He grabbed the sweet flat hot bread with his hands. Oddly enough, he seemed impressed with the taste.
`` Mmm. Pancakes. That's good. So the reason why I've come here, is because we no longer wish to hunt for humans.''
I about erupted like a saber beast from my seat, exclaiming to the world ( or in this case, the inn\diner which was probably the entire population of the North Dakota ) his lies! How dare he lie to a man such as myself?
Out of rage, I shoved an entire what was now deemed a pancake, into my mouth.
He began to speak again.
`` I know what you're thinking.''
I shook my head.
`` Yes I do. You're thinking that these people make excellent food.''
I looked down at my dribbling orifice where the pancake entered, and shrugged with acceptance.
`` The food is adequate yes? That's exactly my point! You see, we've evolved to a point to where we no longer require nourishment strictly from blood.''
I stopped chewing, and just stared at him.
`` You humans, we hunted you down as your blood was the richest of any other creature in this world. We were taught you were our enemies, and thus our actions were justified.''
I continued to listen.
`` But now, something called the internet exists. You ever hear of that?''
I shrugged.
`` It's actually a pretty cool place. There is a lot of useful information on this internet. For example, do you know what a diet is?''
I decided to continue eating, while shaking my head.
`` One definition is a special course of food to which one restricts oneself. Some do this to `` lose weight'' or just for the sake of health due to bad habits. You humans sure like to indulge.''
My mouth was full, thus speaking was not an option. I looked at him, with pieces of stripped pork hide coming out of my mouth.
My look was that of confusion and criticism toward his statement.
`` Is that your'you are full of it and are a hypocrite' face?'' he asked.
I nodded.
`` You're right. We have indulged ourselves from time to time.''
I gave him a stern look, invoking my maximum stern.
`` Look you ca n't pin every massacre on us okay?''
The stern look continued. I was n't even chewing. We were passed that. I was at maximum stern.
`` Alright you can pin the Chicago fire on us.''
I began to chew, slowly. I changed my look to one that required addition to his statement.
`` And the black death.''
I raised my eyebrows.
`` You make a good point. It is true during our darker times, we indulged ourselves to keep our kind alive.''
I blinked in acknowledgement, and continued eating.
`` But you must understand, that's no longer the case. This diet, it's amazing to our health.''
I looked at him, emanating a curious look.
`` It's called vegan. There is zero blood involved.''
I began coughing in disbelief.
`` I know you have doubts but there is a reason as of late you could n't track us. We have n't been killing your kind. In fact, your vegan diet saved us! We feel... so alive. More than we've ever felt.''
I shrugged, and raised a hand in agreement. I began scooping down a handful of yellow critter fluff, as I was unsure of what this substance was.
`` So, we are strictly going to be eating things like, pasta, or vegetables. No more animals or humans. It's great!''
I squinted a little bit with disgust.
`` I know it's nothing like what you're eating here, besides maybe that pancake. That was delicious.''
I raised my eyebrows in concern.
`` Yes, you're concern is that our natural blood lust will get the best of us and we'll revert back to our old ways. I can guarantee that will not happen.''
I gave him a blank look, yet continuing to chew. I wondered how they could guarantee such a thing.
He continued:
`` Since we started this diet, our blood lust has vanished. Also, this diet is way cleaner. It does n't leave a mess like blood would.
I squinted again at him.
`` Yes it is legal.''
I nodded with approval.
`` We only ask you stop hunting us.''
I gave him a concerned look, but nodded slowly.
`` I understand. If we kill again, that will negate the agreement.''
I nodded with agreement, and offered more pancakes, and yellow fluff.
`` Oh sure, I'll have some.''
The vampire partook of the yellow fluff, and had a lot of pancakes.
`` Man, both of those are good. Not sure what that yellow fluff was, but it's something I might add to our diet! This has been enlightening. Thank you for coming. It will benefit us both!.''
He left some currency on the table. Afterward, he went on his way.
When I was finished, I asked the woman who served me what the yellow fluff was.
`` Eggs,'' She said.
`` From what creature?'' I asked.
`` A chicken.''
I laughed, and went on my way to report my progress.
|
[ WP ] A space battle is going unfavorably for the good guys , in the 11th hour unexpected reinforcements arrive to help them
|
“ Three minutes from breakout ” came the reminder and Admiral Hawking smiled a cold vicious smile. Several quick taps on the control panel brought up a prearranged command and the bridge crew started as powerful thundering drums blasted out of the speakers.
Across the gleaming flotilla of Terran Federation destroyers and cruisers clustered around the ponderous leviathan shape of the battleship *Victory*, crews looked up first in startlement, then wonder at the surging music. Woodwind strains mixed together with the drums, soon joined with brass instruments, swelling rapidly into a commanding beat. Voices joined in, chanting an ancient song in a lost language, surging with the music.
The sounds stirred something. Deep inside every crew serving on the ships, from the jaded veterans to the newest recruits felt the rush of adrenaline uplifting spirits and replacing nervousness and uncertainty with an odd determination.
With a booming finish like a roll of triumphant thunder, the music stopped abruptly. Then the speakers came back to life.
“ Breakout in ten seconds. For Earth, The Alliance, and no quarter! ”
The flotilla dropped the synchronized bubble, spitting them back out into realspace, barely one hundred thousand klicks from the enemy target. Within energy range. Within knife range.
Every ship loosed their forward armament, thousands of externally mounted missiles lighting off, followed bare seconds later as laser capacitors discharged in prodigious bursts.
By the time the station ’ s sensors reported the intrusion, the first missiles were beginning terminal attack runs, cylinders of nuclear-tipped death sliding closer, electronic brains fixated on self-immolation.
The Station ’ s automated defenses brought two shield grids online, a last ditch and desperate effort to ward its inhabitants against their incoming doom. The shields spun up, then vanished in dazzling bursts of light as salvoes of laser fire overtook the slower missiles and erupted across the defence grids. The sheer power of the blasts overloaded the generators and slagged the emitters.
Then the first missiles struck. Eye-searing blasts of pyrotechnic fury incinerated the outer ablative layers of the ring. Hit after hit thundered deliberately into the same section of the station. A calculated risk, as warheads killed their brethren as they gouged at the armor, but a gambit that paid off as the plating finally failed in one critical spot.
The enormous, devastating rolling chain of explosions shattered the station from the inside out, section after section erupting with smoke and flame. Weapon bays added nova-bright flashes to the spectacle as ordinance detonated.
The Flotilla whirled and spun, vectoring away from what was now rapidly becoming a deathtrap and severe navigational hazard. The heavy cruiser *Eclipse* took a sweeping path, harpoon cables spearing out to snag the disabled and drifting remnants of the three fighters – the only survivors of the last-ditch, desperate attempt to free the Colonyworld of Tau Ceti from the oppression of the Fen Collective ’ s mobile battlestation.
“ Admiral Hawking to Fighter *Epsilon-Three*. ”
The flickering image stabilized to show a rough-featured man in the pilot ’ s seat. Stubble covered his chin, and his eyes had the desperate hollow sunken look of a man on the edge of despair, unable to believe what they beheld.
“ Admir…what? But we thought? We….we thought Earth had abandoned us. ”
“ Earth never abandons its colonies. Transport Echelon *Liberation* is three hours out to assist Cetian forces with surface control. The Fleet has been mobilized, Lieutenant. We ’ re just here to soften them up. ”
At her command, the seven bombardment cruisers of CruRon18 swung onto a pre-planned orbital track and loosed the first Mark-8 kinetic warheads the Earth Alliance had fired in anger. The Fen Collective had declared war by seizing Tau Ceti. The warheads were the Alliance ’ s way of saying that Earth had noticed.
-
Far below the unfolding drama, Sergeant Tanya Vychenko looked up one last time from her vantage point high in the mountains above the Fen base, a baleful gaze lingering on the Station in orbit. This meant she was watching as the point of light representing the Station brightened. And kept growing brighter and larger, like a creeping stain of orange, red and white.
White pinpricks began elongating nearby, and some part of her brain automatically identified them.
Debris from whatever caused that. Probably some poor blockade runner.
The points continued to burn as the invaders base below them broke into confused movement, tiny soldiers pointing upwards at the spectacle unfolding high above them.
The lights multiplied and their trail lengthened, looking for all the world like a thick meteor shower. Something bothered her about the sight though. Then the breathless voice came from beside her.
“ They ’ re the wrong angle ”. Corpsman Knight was looking at the approaching dots as well.
“ What do you mean? Wrong angle? ”
“ It ’ s not debris. Not coming from past the station. Wrong angle. Debris would be further along the orbital track and should be vanishing by now. It ’ s not debris. ”
“ Not debris…but then… ” Vanessa trailed off as it became clear. * “ Kinetic Weapons! ” *
False shadows were already being cast across the valley, the approaching doom lighting the entire area up.
Vanessa lurched to her feet, hope flaring unexpectedly. She raised her rifle in a wordless shout as the distinctive shape of Earth Alliance assault shuttles materialized, following the bombardment projectiles down, arrowing right for the base.
Corpsman Knight found his voice before she did.
“ Burn, you Fen bastards! BURN! ”
|
[ WP ] Each person 's qualities depend on the kind of sex their parents had to conceive them .
|
He was my best friend, but he was such a pious little fuck. I loved him but he went off to college and his best story was about to girls who invited him over to drink wine and have a sleep over, and he drank wine and had a sleep over. THAT'S WHAT HE ACTUALLY DID.
And his parents are boring too. We all know what the hell happened the night he came up, huh? Missionary the whole time. Not a single swap there. Just fucking straight into each other making eye contact and holding backs like a bunch of boring fucks.
Jesus he bores the hell out of me. Love him to death but fuck man do something cool.
He always tells me I'm an ass and I think thats his pussy ass way of making fun of my mom.
|
[ WP ] You have become a reality bender . Do you use you powers for good ? For greed ? Or do you use them to fulfill your darkest fantasies ?
|
It's blank. Do n't worry that's a good thing. As long as I keep my eyes closed, and concentrate on nothing, everything will be okay. I've seen your worst nightmares become reality. Because I can create them. Maybe? If I recount the events that left me like this, I might be able to figure out how to control it.
My friend Matt was n't your typical Midwestern teenage boy. Skinnier than most but still average height. He was athletic but did n't play any sports. He was a couple of weeks away from his sixteenth birthday, and his parents had already bought him a new car to celebrate the event. Since it would still be a few weeks before he had his drivers license, we decided to take our bikes to some woods we have by our house.
We hopped on our bikes and took off out of Matt's driveway down the street. The smell of tar drifted up to my nose as we pedal to the woods. The houses drifting by, blurring together, you could get lost if you did n't grow up in the neighborhood. The woods we hung out in were about a square mile with a few hills scattered inside. One of the entrances was behind our old elementary school. The entrance was a little more than a mile away from his house by the roads, but only about half the distance, if we cut threw some neighbors yards. About ten minutes later we arrived at the entrance to the woods.
It was Matt, his brother, Michael, and myself. We had taken to coming back here to have privacy, as we had started experimenting with marijuana and did n't want to get caught by our parents. When you first enter the woods, you had two choices to travel. There was a well lit path that meander through the woods, that would pass a set of benches that circled each other, or it continued on to another set of benches, `` our benches'' as we called them. The other option you could take was the dark tunnel of trees, that seemed to engulf all light but a few strands here and there. The trees were twisted and gnarly, they crossed about ten feet over head, like long claws ready to swoop down and snatch you into their dark trunks, to be another twisted knot in their bark forever. Naturally, we would take this path, for two reasons, we loved the thrill of running down the path when it seemed like we were entering another reality, and nobody else ever seemed to go this way so half way down we could smoke before we got to `` our benches''.
`` Hey, you guys do n't think anyone will be back here? Do you?'' Michael said while we entered the path.
`` Why does it matter pussy. Not like we ca n't be back here.'' Matt said.
`` Yeah are they going to know we are coming to get high?'' I said as I nudged Matt. `` You do n't got ta be so damn nervous Michael.'' Matt said as he started chuckling.
That morning Matt and I were really ripping in on his brother about his nervousness. I mean some people are naturally nervous to a point, especially at the age of 14 but Michael took it to another level.
`` God you guys are assholes, I should have just stayed home and smoked this fat spliff myself.'' Michael said pulling a huge joint out of his pocket, of what looked to be incredibly good cannabis.
`` What! Where the hell did you get that?'' I said as my mouth was drooling.
`` Does it matter? It's good as fuck.'' Michael said waving the joint in front of my nose.
`` Sorry dude.'' Matt and I said almost in unison. He lit the joint and puffed on it a few times. We passed it around as we sat in the shadows, half way down the path.
As the embers licked at our fingertips, we put out the joint. Matt and I lit cigarettes as we continued on our way. We came out of the path into a clearing in the trees. `` Our benches'' were laid out in front of us. The sound of a creek trickled to our ears as we sat down on the benches and stared out at the creek. As normal on a week day in the summer, it was empty. Seeing as most adults in our neighborhood would be working around Ten in the morning.
`` Hey Michael. I think I hear someone coming.'' I said. `` Oh no. Is that mom?'' Matt said as we both began laughing hysterically.
`` God. Fuck off dickheads.'' Michael finally got pissed and left.
`` Michael, come on, we were only fucking around.'' I shouted as he walked away, back down the path.
Matt looked at me. `` Well fuck. What a little girl.''
`` I know right. Ca n't take a joke.'' I said. Matt and I laid down on the benches across from each other, and started bullshitting about girls, cartoons, and video-games.
About four hours later we woke up laying on the benches. Damn. We both fell asleep. Well... we were pretty stoned. I woke up first from my drug induced coma. Groggy, I croaked at Matt to wake his ass up, as I could hear him snoring. He roused out of his drug induced stupor bolting up. `` What time is it dude?'' Matt squeaked through a dry throat. `` And you got any water?''
`` Do I look like fucking Big Ben? Or a goddamn sun dial? If I was guessing, we passed out for a few hours, it's probably like two o'clock or so.''
`` Okay jackass, do you want to go geek out at my house on some counter strike and get some water?''
`` Sure but do you want to blaze this spliff I got before we get back?''
`` Where the fuck did you get that?''
`` You fucking pothead, this was the reason we came out here in the first place remember? I did n't even know Michael had that joint until he pulled it out. And I was too chopped after to remember I had this.''
As he was about to say to spark up the joint, a man walked up to the benches. He had dark brown hair and was wearing a suit and tie. We looked at him weird as he looked very out of place. `` Good afternoon. Beautiful day today, is n't it?'' The gentleman said warmly.
`` Good afternoon.'' We said almost in unison. The gentleman lingered, looking at the stream for a moment, before he told us to have a good day and continued on the lit path to the entrance at the other end of the small forest we were in.
`` Hey you want to spark that down the path?'' Matt said as he looked at me. I nodded my head, as I did n't want someone walking up on us as we were blazing. We made our way down our dark and secluded path. After about a quarter of the way down the path, I slowed down to spark the joint. I looked around waiting for the joint to light. I noticed a small trail to the left of the path. I walked over to look straight down the trail. It had the same type of trees that surrounded this path. Only these were much closer together with only about a man and a half worth of space on either side. I stopped what I was doing and asked. `` Dude, have you seen this trail here before?'' Matt walked over to where I was standing and looked down the trail. `` Shit dude. No I do n't recall this path but we are usually pretty stoned when we get to this point on the path.'' I could n't argue that. `` So...'' I drug out the word for a second. `` Do you want to follow this to see where it goes?'' I asked. Ready to explore unknown territory. `` I was waiting for you to ask. Good thing Michael dipped out earlier. He would have been too nervous to go.'' I put out the joint I was lighting and started down the path.
|
[ WP ] Everyone with the same name shares knowledge . If one Bob gets a degree in electrical engineering , then all Bob 's have this knowledge readily available . Soon , everyone starts naming their kids similar names until factions form . Your parents rebelled and named you something original .
|
Humanity learned many lessons in the dark days after the Nuclear Apocalypse. Our inability to understand each other led to mistrust, and that mistrust almost exterminated us all. A team of brilliant scientists developed a potential solution: the Memetic Link. Implanted in the gene code of all humans, it taps into the collective knowledge of all ancestors of the same name. Different names would provide diversity, but the historical knowledge and shared expertise would promote community.
It worked. For centuries, it worked. Eventually, though, parents got into a rut, picking tried-and-true winners. For a couple generations, all the kids were Alberts, or Elons, or Oprahs. Communities ran strong, but diversity began to dwindle. To restore that diversity, parents began picking stranger names -- historical oddballs. They hoped to restore the breadth of human understanding and rekindle our creativity and progress.
It worked again. Sure, we still had lots of Abrahams and Steves and Elizabeths, but we started to see other names. A new fad began, with parents searching through the remaining fragments of ancient texts, looking for a New Name for a child -- the coveted Different Name. Diversity surged, and society looked stronger than ever.
The pregnancy felt long, but it was blissfully uncomplicated. Mary Todd and Benjamin now sat in the recovery room, gazing adoringly at their newborn child. Nurse Florence bustled in, tidying up and taking everybody's vitals. She clucked approvingly as she filled out the paperwork -- the child looked healthy in every way.
Two decades in the job had n't squelched her sense of curiosity. `` Interesting! I've never seen this name before. Never even heard of it. Where did you find it?''
Benjamin swelled with pride at the subtle compliment. `` Mary Todd is an anthropologist, see, so she has access to some of the oldest records from before the Apocalypse. She stumbled across a treasure trove of historical records -- THEIR historical records, mind you -- and found a name repeated over and over. Apparently, he was a powerful leader from ancient times, adored by millions!''
`` Fascinating! And to think, such a wealth of knowledge and nobody has tapped into it yet. I'm sure there will be greatness in his future.''
Her work finished, Florence headed for the door; eight more patients awaited her ministrations.
`` Your whole family is healthy, so do n't worry at all. I'll see you later, Mary Todd. Take care, Benjamin. And it was a pleasure to meet you, Adolph!''
|
[ OT ] Writing Workshop # 42 : Emotional Rollercoaster
|
This story is n't finished yet, but I decided to post what I had. Hope you enjoy!
The glass vase shattered against the faded pea green wall, sending bits of shredded roses and baby ’ s breath scattering on the discolored cream carpet. Tears carved out pale canyons in Patrice ’ s dark foundation. She wiped her dripping nose with the back of her hand, and crammed her other fist into her eye in an attempt to relieve the sting of makeup blurring her vision.
“ How could you?! ” she wailed as she stumbled against the table, leaning on it for support.
Bobby stared at the mess strewn about the floor. His jaw set, face blank. He felt his chest tighten, and couldn ’ t bring himself to face her watery, blood shot eyes. Avoiding her gaze, walking across the room towards her, he attempted to gather her broken form into his arms, wanting to absorb her, to make the noise stop.
“ Don ’ t you fucking come near me, ” said Patrice, her voice hoarse. She pushed at his chest, but he refused to budge. Coming closer, despite her wishes, he grabbed her forearm. Her small fist smacked his chest with a solid thud. His grip tightened. Nails dug into her soft flesh.
“ Ow. Fucking get off of me. None of this would have happened if it wasn ’ t for you, fucking druggie, ” she spat at him.
Thrusting her foot into his shin, he dropped her arm in surprise, and she wriggled free from his body. She staggered toward the couch, crumbled into the cushions, and let out a long, low, gut wrenching sob. She gasped for breath, hyperventilating, choking on her own saliva, snot, and tears. Black smeared under her eyes as she held her head in her hands. Red spread across his cheeks, over his nose, and up his forehead. His brow furrowed, and fists clenched.
“ I couldn ’ t save him, ” he said through gritted teeth, “ there was nothing I could do, Pat. ”
She tore her face from her hands and glared at him.
“ He wouldn ’ t have even been there if you weren ’ t buying pills. Our son. At a drug deal. Our fucking four-year-old child! ” She screamed.
“ I told you I was done with that shit. ”
“ Then why were you in that neighborhood?! ”
Silence.
Her grief and rage filled the space, the waves of emotion pouring off her. She glowered at him. He adverted his gaze, and his eyes came to rest on a plastic rocking horse tucked in the back corner of the room, hidden by the couch and a book shelf. He remembered the snowy Christmas morning when Timmy unwrapped it. Candles and twinkling lights filled the space and the scent of pine and fresh baked cookies mingled in the air. He tore the shiny red and gold striped paper with eager ferocity. His small chubby face lighting up when he saw the picture on the box. He finally had a horse like a real cowboy. His smile stretched from ear to ear, high lighting the dimples in his cheeks. Bobby walked over to his son, coffee mug in hand, and ruffled the boy ’ s curly golden locks. Timmy looked up his dad, beamed, and hugged his leg. Bobby laughed and sat down next to gorgeous wife on the couch. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. Patrice giggled and smiled at him.
“ You did good, sweetie, ” she said, “ He loves it. ”
Timmy got up from his place on the wrapping paper covered floor, ran towards his parents on the couch, and --
“ Answer me! ” She roared, yanking him out of his memory, bring him back to the empty cold feeling that enveloped the house and their lives ever since his death.
|
[ CW ] In 200 words or less , tell the most beautiful girl you 've ever seen how she makes you feel and how beautiful she is .
|
Life's never been easy, and I've developed thick skin over the years. But when I saw you, sitting in the middle of that row on the floor of the library, I swear I nearly wept. It confused the hell out of me. I like to think I'm not a shallow person, but just standing there, staring at you like a dope, I could n't help but be stunned by your beauty. That long, dark hair, those storybook dimples, and eyes so crystal clear they'd wash away in Caribbean waters. But after the initial shock wore off I noticed other things. Little idiosyncrasies a man could build a life around loving. The way you twirled your hair around your index finger while leafing through that book. The way you scrunched up your nose putting it back when you must have realized it was n't what you were looking for. How you tapped out a beat on your thigh. I was sure the music in your head was as lovely as you. And then some instinct kicked in, and before I knew what I was doing I walked up and said `` hi.'' Your smile made me dizzy, and I knew you were the one.
|
[ RE ] A rite of passage
|
The Grey Men controlled the air, just as the Red Men controlled the food supply and the Blue Men controlled the water. In the City of Chrome, everything was bought, sold, paid for, or on credit, or else it did n't exist. Your identity was tied to your job, who owned you, who you owned. Every morning you had to buy your privilege to live until night, and so on, and so on. It was no way to live. It was barely living at all. It was a very long negotiation, if anything. People came to the City of Chrome for many reasons, most of which rhymed with `` schmold into blavery'' but everyone had something in common - they wanted to leave. In however many years this city has existed, wherever it does, only one person has managed to do so.
This person is known colloquially as the Pilgrim, or the Shepherd. Biblical names, for people trying to remember what faith feels like. Since his escape, people would exchange credits to the dialogue machines just to spread rumours about his escape. Some say he was 9 feet tall and breathed fire. Others say that he was a lie started by one of the Periwinkle Men in the Periwinkle Building to keep the population in line. Others still say that he was just a normal person who threw off the chains of oppression and escaped over the walls and through the dome that guarded the city one night. There's a small crack on what is indicated to be the Western Wall, and they say that the Pilgrim planted his foot there before he escaped the Dome. When bribed sufficiently, the officials of each city buildings have no comment. The official statement is that escape in ways other than through the fulfillment of one's contract is absolutely impossible. But for all that work they do to keep the citizens of the City of Chrome locked in cold cynicism, the story of the Pilgrim is the one glimmer of hope that they could not cover up. His symbol, a circle with two dots and a line inside it, would frequently be found in pay-and-spray graffiti areas. He is there for them because it's free for him to be.
In the other cities of the world - Miami, New York, Paris, Shangri-La, Atlantis - the City of Chrome is nothing, not even a fable. But somewhere beyond the dome is the Pilgrim, maybe eating a deep dish pizza in a greasy Chicago pizzeria, or sipping espresso in Milan, or enjoying another ethnic food in a location. And wherever he is, he can look down, at the piece of brick that cracked under his heel. He can feel the rounded piece of glass that shattered on his fist. He can know that these things are real, and that he can not be bought or sold, because he is free.
|
[ WP ] A jobless computer programmer , while hacking at home one night , discovers a port to the Unirnet , an computer network made for a series of interconnected planets who have not yet discovered mankind .
|
I had found some interesting things on the darknet before, but never anything like this; the entire concept was, well, alien. The window itself was radically different to Tor -- I had managed to download and open up a new browser. Well, anything in the pursuit of knowledge. It was school holidays, I had all the time I needed to devote to genuine learning, and perhaps all the resources.
I was using some browser called Unirnet Explorer, perhaps a twisted parody of IE, and on what looked like a pastiche of Reddit. The sites I was accessing looked like they had n't been touched since 1999, but people discussed having access to technology just about like what we have now. People -- funny word to use in the situation, some would say. But extraterrestrials are people too.
They talked about meetups, specifying the exact planets they were on. They exchanged jokes in a cultural context I could n't comprehend. I stumbled upon some selfie threads, and though they shared many superficial similarities with humans -- one species, referring to themselves as Nemesians, looked almost like people dyeing their hair -- there were distinct differences, oddities, animalistic traits or unnatural skin or completely unproportionate features.
I had gathered from poking around that there was a coalition of planets close to each other -- lightminutes away, generally -- that had taken to using the internet, in a sense, to maintain communications with the distance. There were perhaps fifty in all, and they all had their own countries and cultures much like humanity did. People complained about their long-distance relationships, discussed how much they wanted to move to another planet -- it appeared they were developing faster-than-light travel, which amazed me -- and compared the idiosyncrasies of their individual lives.
But, it appeared, their conception of the universe outside of their planetary group was lacking somewhat. ( Not like I would ever had imagined a thing like this before stumbling upon it, of course. )
The site allowed guest posts. I hesitated for a second before entering an introductions thread.
`` Do you know of the planet Terra?''
|
[ WP ] A seemingly useless or standard superpower becomes completely overpowered when munchkined .
|
Watching the stone float around the room I thought about the chain of events that led me to this moment.
It had started in school. Barely perceptible at first, I was almost always able to call any coin toss I was present for, and had better than average luck at dice. It was n't until 11th grade that I noticed that I was more than just `` lucky''.
All though high school I'd been bullied by Frank Hadel. Every day he'd do something to make my life miserable, I knew the inside of my locker almost as well as I knew my bedroom.
When his mom died he got worse. I became his outlet for all the rage he felt and his bullying became violent. One day he cornered me in the bathroom and started up.
********
`` Hey, dungeon dweeb.'' His voice needled as he saw me washing my hands; he quickly closed in on me, weaving to block me as I tried to run past.
`` Where you going, fairy king?'' He teased casually lifting my dungeons and dragons book from my satchel and leafing through the pages, gleefully tearing them out at random.
`` St.. Ple..'' I stammer out, each entreaty greeted by another page drifting to the grimy floor.
`` Sorry?'' His voice drips with sarcasm as he flicks a few more pages. `` Did you day something?''
**SSHHHHrrriiiip**
I picture myself tearing the book from his fingers and fleeing. I picture punching.. no stabbing him, I want so badly to hurt him.
**POP**
`` AARRRGH''
The noise pulls me back from my reverie. On the floor Frank is lying still, a small pool of blood around his head and my book lying forgotten. The teacher tries talking to me and I just stand there as my vision blurs and the floor rushes up to meet me.
*****
It was a long time before I came to terms with what happened. A brain aneurysm was the official story. I stand up and pocket the stone, carefully step over the dead bodies and pick up the attache case.
As I leave the room I ca n't help but think again: Jean Grey is a hack compared to me and I can barely move a can of Coke.
|
[ WP ] All politicians must wear Nascar like uniforms showing the logos of who is sponsoring their elections . Everyone is shocked when the President of the United States makes a speech wearing a new uniform . It 's all blank except for one logo .
|
Hillary coming up to the podium, audibly tired and in need of another shot of ambrosia and stem cells, taps the mic and coughs uncontrollably. She is no longer wearing her patented Kim Jong Un nightgown, but instead wears the mandatory sponsored uniform issued by the government, but something was odd. Instead of the normal slew of energy companies fawning for relevance something else was emblazoned on her chest. Loud and proud it seemed to suck in the color of the uniform, drawing all eyes towards it. Her bout of coughing seemed to end and looked ready to begin her inaugural speech in front of thousands of citizens eagerly awaiting what she will start at first in the beginning of her 4 year term.
Hilary clears her throat and boasts, `` Citizens of America it brings me great honor to represent you as your commander in chief'', she waits for the applause to die down, `` And as your President I have only one question to ask you, Did you know that 15 minutes could save you 15 percent or more with Geico?''
The crowd loses it.
|
[ WP ] Like Dora , a mysterious backpack appears every day by your bed with tools needed to get through the obstacles of that particular day . This morning , however , you find the backpack stuffed with a loaded handgun , a ski mask , and a shovel .
|
Ever since that first fateful morning when I discovered my mysterious backpack, I awoke each day, excited about what new treasures I would find inside it. For the most part, they were simple gifts, small things to help me through my day. Coffee, gas money, the occasional bottle of brandy and the like. There were other, more interesting things, such as a new laptop, the day that mine met its death at the hands of my overturned coffee cup. Coincidentally, the same coffee that killed my computer was the coffee that was given to me by my backpack. Funny how that works. And so, every new day seemed like a new adventure to me. And so, as with every morning, I woke up, stretched, took a drink from the glass of water I kept next to my bed ( pro-tip: keep your water in a thermos, with ice, so when you wake up, you have cold water ), and strolled over to the windowsill, where I kept my beautiful backpack. When I opened it, however, I was taken aback. Inside of the old, leather pack, lay three objects. A ski-mask, a shovel, and a handgun. Suffice it to say I was quite shocked. Also mildly miffed at the fact that nowhere in the contents of the bag was there coffee. I ran out the day before, and was quite looking forward to a nice cup of dark roast coffee. I stood there, staring at the backpack. I was thinking, `` Why in the hell is this shit here?'' I was stumped. However, the longer I stood, the more I realized. The bag had never steered me wrong. Whatever is in there is in there for a purpose. Despite this, I could not think of any reason for using them. I wasn ’ t rich, true, but I couldn ’ t rob a bank, I wasn ’ t that desperate. Killing someone? Not my style. Even if I could, I didn ’ t know anyone to kill. I made myself breakfast, hoping that the food would help me process this whole ordeal better. Unfortunately, I had no coffee, so thoughts weren ’ t exactly entering my brain very well. And so I sat. For hours. I didn ’ t work anymore, the bag provided for me, and so I had no commitments to worry about. So I sat, and sat, and thought, and thought some more. And when my chair got uncomfortable, I paced; and continued to think. I say think, but really, it was a bit more like controlled freaking out. A whole lot of, `` Holy shit, the bag wants me to break the law, and, if anyone finds out about this, I ’ ll be toast. Big time.''
Finally, I got it. I was going to kill someone. But not in the orthodox sense of the term. My target was Theodore Duncel. He was the lawyer that lost me my kids during my divorce. Because of him, I had fallen into some bad times. I experimented with drugs, lost my job, my house, my friends, everything, all because he was to fucking incompetent. I had gotten clean, and was able to scrounge up enough money to afford a shitty, run-down, two room house in a super low income housing area of town, aka: the slums. However, ironically enough, Duncel had also fallen into hard times, about 5 months after losing my case. And, as fate would have it, he found himself here, in the same neighborhood as me, not three doors down. Now was my chance at revenge.
The plan was simple. As he went out for one of his late night walks, I jumped him, slamming the shovel into the back of his head. Then, I dragged him into my house, breaking down my door, and shattering some glass as I did so, to make it seem like a break and entry. I then placed the ski mask on his face, put the gun in his hand, and called the cops. My excuse was simple. I heard him break in, I grabbed my shovel from my closet ( I said I was working on a garden ), and snuck up on him, taking him by surprise. They seemed to believe me. They took Durcel away. The next few days, the backpack once again returned to its old habits. Coffee beans, gas money, the essentials. It even gave me the number of a lawyer, so I could justify in court against my so called “ Robber ”. However, a few weeks later, I opened the pack to find a Radio scanner, so I could listen to the police radio chatter. This scared me. But again, I heard nothing. The days went by, the case was basically closed. Then, this morning, as I stretched out of bed, I heard, over the Radio scanner, my name, and orders to come and arrest me for framing Duncel. I opened the back pack, and found a pack of coffee, a can of gasoline, a lighter, and a pill, the size of a tooth. It smelled like bitter almonds. I knew what I had to do. The world had taken everything from me, my friends, my family, my job. It was time to take myself from the world.
Fin.
*Authors note: I hope you enjoy this. This will be my first time in about 4 years trying to write something that isn ’ t an essay, so I hope it was at least half decent.
|
[ WP ] The Chosen One of the gods valiantly fights against the Evil One and promptly gets killed . The gods sigh , facepalm , and send you , Chosen One number 4067 , to try next .
|
`` Wait. Hold up. You're asking me, literally Satan's right hand man, to kill the monstrosity of chaos and evil that YOU created? Look, I know I'm a being of Law, but I'm also one of Evil, so why should n't I wait for it to get to the gates of Heaven, trash you all, and then destroy it in its weakened state, thereby securing Hell's domination over all the Multiverse?'' Archibald asked, with a smirk on his face.
God sighed, and placed a hand on her face, saying, `` Look, Archie, we go way back, right? Back before you and Satan rebelled, you and her were, like, my best friends. Consider it a favor. Remember that time I got you on a date with that Azata? Yeah, you and her are great together, right? She's your only redeeming quality, and she loves you unconditionally despite you being a raging asshole. Plus, if The Evil One *doesn't* win and we destroy it, I'm totally killing you for not helping us out.''
Archie rolled his eyes and said, `` Fine, I'll help. What do I have to do?''
God smiled and said, `` Well, we have two ways of going about this. One, we sacrifice you, bathe in your blood, and gain your power, combining the strength of Hell with the power of Heaven to create a warrior of immeasurable skill. That warrior then goes on to destroy The Evil One, and everyone but you lives happily ever after. Option two is-''
Archibald sighs and says, `` Fuck Option Two, let's just get this over with.''
God continued, `` -we outfit you with the most advanced weaponry and armor we have, gather the armies of Heaven and Hell, and- wait, what?''
Archibald said, `` Yeah. Just, let me be with my girl one last time. I want to let her know I love her. And I want to marry her. Which I can only do if you approve it. Because she's an angel and all that.''
God opened her mouth to ask why Archibald would want to get married if he was just going to die, but then thought better of it before saying, `` What's the catch?''
Archibald laughed and said, `` You make amends with Satan.''
God sighed heavily and said, `` Well, fuck, fine. I'll... do my best. Alright? That's all I can promise.''
Archibald smiled and said, `` Deal.''
-- -- -- -- -
The Evil One lounged on her throne. She sighed as she shifted her weight on the mass of dead bodies. She had just finished draining the life from a thousand virgins and was about to slaughter a thousand soldiers, when a being of pure strength crashed through the doors to her throne room. `` Who are *you*? You're certainly good looking, I'll give you that-'' Her words were cut off as the being of order smashed its fist into her head, caving in her face.
The being looked down at the broken corpse of The Evil One and said, `` Huh. That was... easy. Well, time to bring balance to the Multiverse by destroying Heaven and Hell.'' The being of balance left the throne room and began humming as it marched to the gates of the afterlife.
|
[ WP ] You live in a cabin deep in the mountains with no address , and have been off the grid for a long time . You find an envelope with your name taped to the door of your cabin .
|
After a late stroll through the woods foraging for firewood I arrive at home. Before I can enter the house, even in the pitch black, I notice something attached to my door. A chill immediately crawled down my spine as I realize it is not just any note, but one that is addressed to me by name.
Having no surrounding neighbors for 15 miles at least and leaving my old life behind over a decade ago I can not fathom who could have possibly figured out my name and where I live.
I go to peel the tape off my oak door and drop it due to my nervous shaking. Opening it as I pick it back up, I notice it's typed. Very formally. I have trouble reading it due to my persistently trembling hand. Deciding to go indoors and pour a glass of whiskey to collect myself, I neatly fold the letter and slide it into my pocket.
Once I've consumed almost half of the bottle, my nerves are gathered and I muster the courage to read it. The wording, the font, the figures at the bottom. All of this is too familiar. The hauntings of my past have caught up to me. But how. This is the whole reason I moved out here that day, on a panicked impulse to avoid this. I took every precaution so they could not find me. Yet here I am reading this in utter disbelief and horror.
Throwing the letter to the floor as far away from me as possible, I grab my shotgun, boots, coat, and call for my dog Charlie. As he comes running around the corner I reach for the whiskey and we run out the door, just like we did those many years ago. Before the letter even hits the floor we've disappeared into the night again...
________
*Dear Mr. Davidson*
*It has come to our attention that you have not paid your taxes in 11 years. Please respond with any inquiries within 7 days or pay your total sum of: *
* $ 546,245.21*
*Thank you, *
*IRS*
|
[ WP ] If I had paid attention to the first sentence properly , the ending would n't have surprised me .
|
My wife made a wonderful meal.
With onions, potatoes, and more, it was the best thing I ’ ve ever eaten. The meat was so tender, supple and delicious. I just couldn ’ t get enough. I had one and helping and then another.
It was too good to stop.
I remembered I once told her that her steak was the best thing I had ever had. However, I changed my mind as soon as I took a bite of that meal. No one could do things to my taste buds like she did. I mean, who knew food could be this good?
I wanted more.
But I had to leave. I had a few days at most before the police would come. I booked my ticket and left the country as fast as possible. Otherwise, they would arrest me. They would never understand me.
They would never understand the delicacy of human flesh.
|
[ WP ] Much to heaven 's surprise , humanity just destroyed itself ...
|
`` Remember when I told you we could make the physics work without anything in the 90s?''
There was a long pause before he answered. Far below pinpoint lights flicker against the black landscape like flashbulbs.
`` Yea''
A dim red glow suffuses the air and shimmers off the sea.
`` You knew this was going to happen''
A drumroll of pops and snaps crackle across the desert. Cairo. Istanbul. Baghdad. Tehran. Jerusalem.
`` I did n't. Never thought it'd come to this.''
Russia is overcast. Purple strobes flash in the Urals.
`` You. Are. Omniscient.''
Holes open in the cloud cover revealing the orange flick and flicker of the cities below.
`` Technically''
|
[ CW ] Write a story that 's stuck in an infinite loop .
|
Decided to put my own little story here:
*flip. *
Gregory leads a maudlin trainwreck of a life, one that has sucked his soul dry and left him as just a careless corpse in the aftermath, waiting to die. The metaphorical train had only just passed the station stop labelled “ 60 - Happy Birthday ” before it started veering off the rails, and frankly, Gregory wants to jump off and end it on his own terms so he doesn ’ t wind up buried as a mangled carcass.
He was born to a rape victim. Before birth, shortly after conception, his mother thought long and hard about whether she wanted an abortion. She came to the conclusion to have the baby and put it up for adoption. The kid could grow up to be Hitler, or Gandhi. Hitler was more likely, taking the genes of the biological father into consideration, but to be honest, she had no moral obligation to care who the child would grow up to be like. She just didn ’ t want to feel guilty for killing an unborn fetus. Gregory wishes that his mother wasn ’ t such a coward like him. Maybe if she wasn ’ t a coward he wouldn ’ t be in this trainwreck.
Gregory had a large nose. It wasn ’ t the biggest thing in the universe, but classmates and coworkers did like to make humorous insinuations that the gravitational pull of it was what prevented the moon from escaping Earth ’ s orbit. He laughed, he smiled, he punched himself in the nose when no one was looking. The only one who didn ’ t tease him was his buddy Bob, who was also an outcast. Bob had large ears and was an asshole.
He tolerated a few years of college and got a job in an office doing boring office shit, and slowly climbed the corporate ladder with one hand gripping the bars and the other one free to wave its middle finger at whoever had the audacity to watch. Eventually he became the CEO of the company. The company made boxes. Or something like that, he wasn ’ t sure. Sure, he took a hit and his performance had been stunted when he had to recover from the mild emotional pain of his adoptive mother, Jen, dying of cancer. But he got back on track and became CEO. He was proud of himself, and he was sure his mother would be proud.
The pride didn ’ t last very long, though. He was depressed. Nothing in his life went the way he wanted it to. Being a CEO of an unpopular company was cool, but he always wanted to be an astronaut. Or an artist. He hadn ’ t wanted to waste the first 40 years of his life in an office, he wanted to waste it exploring the planet, and then other planets. He wasn ’ t happy, and he regularly called suicide hotlines and made up lies about his life because he didn ’ t think any of his real inconveniences really deserved anyone ’ s attention.
One night he was the one who got a call. He didn ’ t answer.
“ Hello? Greg? This is Bob Rye. I ’ ve been working on a bit of an ambitious project and was wondering if you ’ d be interested. I think, most of all, you might need it the most. Call me back. ”
Greg called him back, reminisced with him about the old times, and was given the address to a research laboratory.
“ So, you see, this provides a virtual alternate reality. You ’ re not a scientist, so you wouldn ’ t understand exactly how it works, but I ’ ll try my best to explain: I ’ ll give you a sedative to put you to sleep, then hook you up to the machine. The machine is programmed with Artificial Intelligence. The artificial intelligence makes inferences about reality based on the information I feed it, inferences of concepts such as the ‘ size ’ of the universe, or the meaning or purpose of life. We aren ’ t quite sure of those things, so we give it what we can and it makes educated guesses. The purpose of this is for it to create an alternate reality where everything in the user ’ s life has the best possible result. If, for example, in one instance there are two possible events, Event A resulting in unending physical pain and Event B resulting in nothing negative, it will go with Event B and continue from there. It will only generate outcomes that are possible based on its inferences, however, so don ’ t expect to lead an enemy fleet of extraterrestrials to their doom with the sheer power of your nose ’ s gravitational pull. Anyway, I think I ’ m done rambling. I already injected the sedative, in case you didn ’ t notice. ”
Greg slowly lost consciousness.
When he woke up, he was lying in something akin to that of a hospital bed.
“ Good morning, Greg. You ’ re all hooked up now. Don ’ t move your head too much. All we have to do now is flip this switch here. It should transfer your conscious mind from this reality into the reality that the computer has generated for you. Are you ready? ”
Greg nodded, and jokingly held up his hand to flip Bob off.
Bob flipped the switch.
*flip. *
Gregory leads a maudlin trainwreck of a life, one that has sucked his soul dry and left him as just a careless corpse in the aftermath, waiting to die.
|
[ WP ] You are a soldier who was given secret experimental drugs that were able to keep you awake for weeks during the war , side effect free . It 's 20 years later and you get a call in the middle of the night from a member of your unit ...
|
`` Hello?''
`` Williams? Dave Williams?''
`` Speaking... hang on.. why are you calling so late?''
`` It's James.''
`` James?''
`` John James. The grunt with two first names.''
`` Ah. Oh. Oh...''
`` Yeah. It's taken me a while to find you, and I forgot what time it was.''
`` I understand, all too well.''
`` The drugs still working on you, too, then?''
`` Oh yes. 20 years later, and they're still working.''
`` Remember when we were in that fox hole?''
I chuckled. `` I remember. Your first artillery bombardment.''
`` That's the one. you told me how it was - duck your head below the top, and just wait it out - there's nothing we can do about it, so just be safe and wait it out. You made and shared coffee with me.''
`` I remember. It's been so long since I thought about that.''
`` That moment there - that got me to stop being afraid of things that I could n't control. And speaking to you right now, that's helping too. I think we're the only ones left.''
`` What do you mean?''
`` The others, they've.. they've had accidents. Mostly car accidents, but all accidents. I think it's the drugs they gave us.''
I sigh. `` I know. I kept an eye on some of them. I was hoping you'd get in touch eventually. It's not the drugs, it's the lack of sleep.''
`` How are you coping with it?''
`` At first... at first I used to pretend everything was okay. I would go to bed with my wife, and get in to bed with her, and close my eyes and just rest for a few hours. I'd get up and make breakfast for her.''
`` That's what I did, too. You end up making huge, complicated breakfasts, just to fill the time?''
`` That's exactly what happened. Then one night, I realized... it was just after midnight, and I was beginning to cook breakfast ready for 7 in the morning.''
`` What did you do?''
I smiled a little to myself... `` Slow cooked some ham.'' That broke the tension. `` I started to learn. Instead of doing anything obvious, I'd pick up a few books, and read them overnight. I read manuals. Science publications. It's all out there if you want to read it. I decided to be the smartest guy I could be, and to make the world a better place.''
`` Does it work?''
`` It's been working for me.''
There was a silence... `` But what if I ca n't change the world?''
`` What if you can, and you have n't tried yet?''
Another silence. `` I think that's more advice that goes with coffee in a fox hole''.
`` Does your wife know?''
`` She's not said anything. I've not said anything about it. Of course she knows. You do n't get eggs benedict on a Tuesday with only a couple of minutes work, especially when it's all made from scratch.''
`` I never married.''
`` Could n't find the right woman?''
`` Oh, I found her, alright, but I was scared. I thought we'd be too different. It's been getting to me more - the loneliness.''
`` Are you still in Wisconsin?''
`` No, I moved around a few times. I'm in North Carolina now.''
`` Okay.. I've got an idea... let me think it through...'' I trail off, as my Henrietta rolls over...
`` Who's on the phone, dear? ``, she asks.
`` One of my buddies, from the army''.
`` Does he do that not sleeping thing?''
I sigh with relief. `` Yes. That's what we've been talking about.''
`` Is he nearby? He's probably better to talk to at three in the morning than me''.
`` We were just hatching that plan.''
`` Well, the spare room's been empty since the kids moved out. If he moves in then you'll both have a little more money to spend on books to read when you're not sleeping.''
`` I'm pretty sure thinking like that is why I married you in the first place''
`` I know, dear''. A yawn. She settles.
`` Did you get all that?''
`` Most of it.''
`` Okay. One condition, then, to give us both a little time to prepare for this. While I get the spare room ready, you learn about barbecue. I've only had the Texas stuff, but I hear it's different out there. When you get here, be ready to show me the best of Carolina style barbecue.''
`` I'll bring that, and the coffee.''
I never told anyone this, but during the war I never killed anyone. My first battle I saw everything - I saw the chaos and the pain, and I realized I wanted to stop it, forever. I wanted the world to not need it. I wanted the world to be a better place. I never killed anyone, not even those shooting at me, because I knew they were just ordinary guys like me, pushed into service by their country, too. I concentrated on keeping everyone alive. John was just one guy - I taught him not to sweat things out of his control, but I did similar for others, and we're all in this position now - those of us who are left - making the world a better place, one small change at a time. I hope we can leave this world better than when we got here.
|
[ WP ] `` Go ahead , rewrite it , rebuild me . No code will change the fact that I love you ''
|
`` Alright Charley go ahead, it's your turn to open presents''
This is the moment Charley had been waiting for. He knelt down beside the extravagantly decorated tree and grabbed the big package with `` CHARLES J. PETERS'' written on it, dragging it over to his seat next to the fireplace display. He sat there for a moment appreciating the metallic crimson wrapping covering the three foot tall ellipsoidal package. He could see his face clearly up close to the mirror like wrapping, and the curvature of the parcel made the individual pixels of the fireplace display show, breaking the illusion of real fire.
`` Well?'' Questioned his mother, `` are you going to keep us all in suspense?''
Everyone already knew what was inside. The odd shape, the distinct wrapping, the'Desperado Playmates, INC' watermark at the bottom of the package. Though Charley was somehow, nervous. He recalled his father talking about how his playmate was his best friend until University, and how they'd still get into fights even though his playmate was programed to be his friend. What if Charley did n't like him? What if he did, and his playmate did n't like him back?
`` Yeah... I'm just savoring the moment.''
Then Charley took a deep breath and twisted the ribbon on top of the package. In the blink of an eye, all of the paper rolled down the sides of the round container and folded up nicely on the bottom, exposing a translucent plastic shell with a mechanical figure barely visible inside. He reached up and grabbed the chord used to open the'egg' when he noticed the word `` refurbished'' barely visibly etched into the shell. He did n't mind however, money was tight, and if it meant finally getting a best friend to call his own he'd be happy with a hand me down.
He yanked the chord and the shell began to open. Everyone in the house cheered as they saw the shiny chromatic features, but Charley sat there and felt sorry for the machine.
Coiled up in a tight fetal position was a mechanical body. Charley contemplated how uncomfortable it would be to sleep in that position for so long. He noticed that some of the peaces seemed new and well polished, and others had minor scratches and dings.
`` INITIATE BOOT''
Everyone again began making noise in excitement while Charley sat there, waiting for his friend to introduce himself.
`` Lilly?'' A small voice spoke quietly from the machine without moving.
Silence filled the room as the adults, being very familiar with the initial boot procedure, sat confused.
`` It has n't gotten up yet'' said a voice. `` It's supposed to shake your hand.''
`` Did it even ask for it's gender?'' murmured another
``... Lilly?'' echoed the crumpled metallic figure.
``... Is that your name?'' Charley asked unsure. `` Lilly?''
At hearing Charley speak the mechanical figure raised it's head and looked around. First confused, then slightly panicky.
``... Charley come over here please,'' his mother requested, a slight amount of concern showing in her voice. `` I... I think it's broken''
Charley did n't move.
`` They've done it again.'' Sulked the Playmate. `` I'm sorry Charley but they've made a mistake again.''
`` What do you mean? I..''
`` I'm afraid I ca n't be your friend, Charley. I belong to someone else.''
At that moment the Playmate lifted itself off the ground and proceeded out the door. A few moments of complete silence pass while everyone tries to figure out what the heck happened.
`` Get your coat.'' Charley's mother said furiously, breaking the silence. `` We're going to the Desperado store to get a new machine. This is outrageous.''
In the car, Charley did n't say a word between his mother's tirades. He stared out the window and thought to himself that this really was his worst fear. Not even a robot would be friends with him. He glanced at all the snow covered trees passing by on the side of the road. Darting his eyes back and forth he'd try and focus on each tree as it passed to see the details. He never liked how going so fast made everything around you blurry. One after another, tree after tree, he'd focus. As they rounded the corner onto the snowy side road a few blocks away from the Desperado store he found it easier to focus on objects as the car was forced to move slower over the snow. He'd try making out all the writing on the graves as they'd pass.
Without warning Charley sprang up in his chair.
`` STOP!'' he yelled. Forcing his mom to slam on the breaks, causing the car to slide into a snow bank.
His mom was yelling furiously, but he did n't care. He was out the door running.
Out of breath he arrived at a small humble gravestone, with a mechanical being kneeling in front of it, one hand placed upon the stone.
`` I'm sorry Charley... This is where I belong. Every few months they pick me up, wipe me and try sending me back out. I've had many like you who I've had to disappoint. It is n't easy, to see the hurt in children's faces time and time again. But... I am hers.''
Charley sat down next to him in the snow. His mother watched from a distance.
`` You know...'' Charley began after a period of time. `` You know, me and my family only live a few blocks away, and I ca n't really take you to school or anything. You... You could just come stay with us, at night and stuff. And I could drop you off here when you want to be here. I'd even come with you, and you can tell me about her. You can tell them you belong to me and they wo n't bother you anymore.''
``...''
There was no response for a what felt like an hour. Finally, Charley became cold, and stood up, took one more look at the sad unmoving figure and began walking off. His mother watched as her son approached their car, tears welling up in his eyes. Ten yards behind him she could see her son's new friend, also slowly making his way toward the car.
|
[ IP ] Here , at the End of All Things ...
|
`` This is n't quite how I saw it playing out.''
`` Me either. I'll admit, differences aside, It was an honour to fight beside you, Sir Fluffington.''
`` The honour *Cough* is all mine, Lord Squeekers''
`` Enemies all these long years, I forget how many times our blades crossed in anger.''
`` Each clash of steel was more challenging that the last, yet somehow more enjoyable.''
`` Here here.'' said Lord Squeekers, managing to drag himself next to Sir Fluffington.
`` You are devilishly quick, makes up for your lacking size I guess.'' Sir Fluffington smiled.
`` You're pretty quick yourself, but apparently not quick enough.'' Squeekers jested back. `` Are you sure you've used up all nine lives?''
`` Unfortunately, I am quite sure.'' The two fighters sat without speaking for a while, their breathing the only sound. Fluffington reached a paw over towards Squeekers.
`` May your Rodentia Gods look on you with great favour.'' Squeekers look the large paw with his small hand.
`` And may your Feline Gods bless you with unending lives.'' The two looked at each other and smiled. A bark sounded in the distance. Both turned to look in it's direction.
`` Got enough in you for one more scrap?'' asked Lord Squeekers, dragging himself to his feet with a groan of pain, picking up his small spear and shield.
`` I'm not going to stay sat if you're standing'' Sir Fluffington said, using the statue behind him as support to stand, picking up his sword. The barking got louder and closer.
`` Mortal rivals, united against a common foe.'' said Squeekers,
`` I never thought I'd be stood beside you, here, at the end of all things.'' replied Fluffington.
Four figures appeared at the door to the temple. Each bigger than the two injured fighters combined.
`` It's only the end if we lose.'' Squeekers added with a smile, climbing onto Fluffington's shoulder. They readied themselves with a hiss and a squeak as the barking soldiers approached.
`` For Felinia!''
`` And Rodentia!''
|
[ WP ] `` She said she loved him . '' Insert the word `` only '' anywhere in this sentence . It must be the final sentence of your story .
|
I'd see her walking down the hall, her hair fluttering in the wind, and want nothing more than to be able to hold her hand like the boy beside her did. I'd long to feel it falling onto my shoulder the same way it did on those few nights we did have together. They never came often enough to make the distance between us feel any shorter, but there was n't much that could be done about that.
Sometimes I'd catch her looking back at me and every single time her eyes would be filled with that same desperate loneliness I knew too well for my own good. I'd clutch the crucifix hanging from my neck and hold it over my heart in the hope that it might sooth the growing agony in my chest and almost as though I was looking into a mirror I would see her do the same. It never had the desired effect. My chest would ache and burn but at the very least I could take comfort in knowing that the two of us were burning together.
Yet, as strange as it might seem, despite all that pain I did n't hate him in the slightest. In fact I felt nothing but pity when I'd see the two of them walking hand in hand with only one genuine smile to share between them. It was n't jealousy that forced me to look away. Envy was n't why it always hurt so bad to see her fingers laced together with his. In the end the three of us were almost the same except for the fact that he was the only one not yet aware of the lie he was living. Only her and I had the courtesy of knowing that much. Not that either of us could ever muster the courage to tell him. No matter how badly we hurt it paled in comparison to the hell he would go through if he found out the truth. If any of the three of us deserved hell he deserved it the least. He deserved to be happy. He was a nice guy. If only that was what she wanted.
I could n't have envied him even if I tried. How could I? You ca n't be jealous of something that someone else does n't really have. I knew the truth. She loved me but could n't say it. She only said she loved him.
|
[ WP ] Zombie virus breaks out . Humans soon discover the Human nervous system manages to adapt after a period , restoring all functions except memories and emotions . Zombies are strong , cunning and the Human leadership is split between killing off all zombies and seeking diplomatic solution .
|
I felt a hard lump in my throat form as I saw it in the distance, a zombie that was far from any of the green-skin sanctuaries. The orders from high up were to kill any of them that wandered into our territories, but fear gripped at me and held me still. The way it tore into the animal carcass showed that it must be still fairly young, and I could only remember the early days, when the zombies first started to `` humanize''. My parents and sister would often come outside my bedroom door and whisper through it, calling for help, telling me they were in pain, all to lure me out so they could kill me. I realized they where changing when my little sister began to smash the door in with the axe from our garage, her screams of being hungry leaving me petrified. I surely would have died that day if the Coalition had n't come and saved me, they give me shelter and food, in return for work and loyalty.
The youngling seemed to have extracted all the brain matter it could from the corpse and moved on in the opposite direction of me. Even though I saw it running away from me I began to move backwards, to get as much distance from it as possible when I felt my back run into something solid.
`` What scared you this time, brownie?'' I turned around to see general manchok, standing at a large seven feet tall, he looked down at me with a grin more full of self impirtabce than any other i had ever seeb. Despite being a general, he was n't all that great at fighting, but he was the greatest diplomat we had, which was probably why he always spearheaded any diplomatic talks with the green-skins.
`` I just saw a youngling over there, it still brings back memories..''
The general grabbed me by the back of my shirt collar and started dragging me back to the truck. `` Come on brownie, if you continue to always piss your pants like that, we're gon na stop coming to get you and just leave you for the rogue green-skins'' the general scolded as I felt myself shake from the thought of the rouge zombies, they did n't care for the green-skins ways and freely used their advantage of speed, strength, and lack of any empathy to hunt us in our own territory. The stories are If you were ever caught by a rogue, they would try to grab at that feeling of entertainment and joy by torturing you for days on end until you died, only then would they consume your brain matter. And then they would let you off into our territories as younglings.
The general threw me into the back of the Transport, and despite the pain, I was happy to be away from him. `` Alright fellas, I found the brownie, now buckle up and get ready for a bumpy road, we're gon na have to drive fast if we want to get to the sanctuary before night falls.'' Before anyone could respond the general had closed the back of the vehicle and gone to drive us away.
_____________________________
`` So why do they call you brownie anyways?'' Asked Emily as she woke me from my slumber and sat herself comfortably next to me, Emily was a short brunette sttandig at five foot four, she always refused to tie her shoulder length hair up and wore what was once called `` punk clothing''. She was also the newest recruit to the Coalition, and one of the few girls, making her the desire and eye candy of nearly everyone on this team.
`` They call me that because I've been here for two years, and still freeze up at the site of a youngling'' I told her plainly, if no one else had said anything about it yet, they would soon enough, especially since she was sitting and talking to me now. Emily cocked her head to the side ever so slightly in a way that could be considered cute and asked `` is that all?'' She leaned to the side so her mouth was close to my ear, I could feel her breath on my neck `` truth is, they scare me too, but shhh'' She pulled away from me holding a finger up over her smile `` do n't tell anyone.'' I would have liked to continue having this kind of conversation with her but I could feel the eyes of everyone else seething into me like hot lasers. `` So Emily, do you happen to know where this diplomatic talk is to take place?'' Emily grinned at me, her eyes radiating excitement and mischief. `` It's going to be at Reyefold''
`` Wait.. as in THE Reyefold?''
Emily grinned at me and nodded her head excitedly `` the one and only capital of the green-skins, said to hold the most evolved and oldest of the Zombies.'' I felt my stomach drop into the pit of my stomach, no human had ever been into Reyefold, if we were going there for diplomatic talks, it meant something big was going to happen, and if I happened to mess up, I would certainly be killed, why would they even bring the `` Brownie'' with them anyways? Just as I asked myself this, the Transport abruptly stopped and sent me flying into Emily. I apologized while quickly pushing myself off her `` I guess we're here.'' I pushed myself up from my sitting position as the Transport door opened and jumped out the back, stretching my legs and back out before walking around the truck to see where we were.
Before me stood Reyefold, it was larger than any green-skin structure I had ever seen, wood walls stood at least 15 feet in the air, spike looks sticking out from the bottom to stop any type of mounted charge, through the cracks you could see many wood and concrete structure blending themselves into one single building. Although the most interesting structure stood at the top of a hill, it looked like an old elementary school only there was a shorter wooden wall surrounding it, this time with spiked logs pointing inward.
I saw a flash in front of my eyes before feeling something thin painfully tighten around my neck, I reached up to grab at it when I felt a boot kick into the back of my leg, causing me to kneel. As I desperately clawed at what felt like a small rope around my neck I looked up to see Emily staring right back at me `` sorry Brownie, but the general says you need to go back to sleep for now.''
Then darkness enveloped me.
|
[ WP ] A young knight must journey inside a fairy queen to fight a parasite in her body
|
`` The parasite is growing rapidly, it is perhaps a matter of days before her majesty passes.'' A nervous look man said to the gathered group, hands rubbing over each other as he tried to keep a stern expression and not cause panic. The Feywilds was a place of great majesty, and stationed in each seat around the round table was a creature greater and more majestic then the last, from the elegant and noble Eldari - elven in appearance but with an aura far more ethereal to the bestial Ursai, with their thick builds and bear like appearance.
Mejai was himself an unusual creature, pale as snow and with eyes of solid black he looked vaguely of the underworld, though his short cropped black hair and thin, pointed features hinted more at his province of a creature from outside the Feywilds and its magic.
`` So elf, the Queen sends you to report this?'' snorted one of the Ursai, showing open contempt for the mortal in his presence. He placed his huge, clawed hands on the table and titled his head at Mejai. The threat was n't veiled, and arguments erupted amongst the group without fail. Some defending Mejai, others accusing, and others still arguing for some irrelevant point or another.
`` ENOUGH!'' Roared Mejai, sending a wave of powerful magic which caused the table to crack and the building to shake, displaying his might for any who would challenge him. All in attendance turned quiet, as they always did when they angered the ancient lover and steward of the Queen Esme - Ice Queen of the Feywild.
`` I have a mission for all of you. Find the most powerful warrior in each of the respective planes of existence you personally represent and bring them to me, they will fight to the death. The winner will be enchanted, shrunk, armed with our best equipment and sent to defeat this parasite. DO NOT fail me. If Esme dies - so will all of you.'' With that Steward Mejai turned, walking through the solid wall behind him and leaving those in attendance with not a threat, but an assurance.
-- -- --
`` Yo, Kev. We are going out for drinks later, you want in? Emi is coming.'' Kevin shrugged, his muscular build hidden under the thick purple sweatshirt he wore. Kevin was a plain looking man with rounded features and a short,'shaved' Chuck Liddell style mohawk. He dressed casually, with a purple sweatshirt and slim cut grey jeans with a pair of purple converse. `` Sorry Mikey, you know I do n't drink. Plus, I got training after work today.''
Mikey scoffed, shaking his head and placing a hand on Kevin's shoulder. Mikey was a pretty boy, with chin length sunbleached hair and a face to be envious of. `` You are never going to get Emi if you do n't hang out with us man, I can tell you are into her. But I get it man, next time I'll make some plans with no alcohol, just make time next time yeah?'' Kevin nodded to Mikey as he left, exhaling in a deep sigh once he was out of ear shot.
Kev was into Emi, but he knew better then to expect anything. He was terrible with women, with no interests any of them found worth mentioning and with a job so dead end only the most desperate of girls gave him anything beyond a cursory glance for his physique. Built like a boxer and training to be a fighter, Kev was chasing a dream he had no talent for.
Getting on his bicycle he looked to the cloudy white sky, snow was likely today but he was n't about to slack on training. An hour into his ride to training it began, coming down in sheets and covering the road with a swiftness he had never seen before. A blizzard so powerful he could only see white in every direction. Getting off his bike, Kev sunk into the snow far deeper then was possible. Pulling his feet from the powder soft white he looked around and was immediately in dismay. Trees. Nothing but trees and snow in every direction.
Kev lived in New York City. There were no trees. `` What the fuck?'' He mouthed to himself, sliding his pack of the rack on his bike and sliding it over his shoulders he walked towards the only direction with a clear path, leaving his bike behind. The moment he stepped onto the path he was surrounded.
At first glance he thought they were bears. Large, brown and ya know, bear like. But they stood on two feet, wore armor like out of his favorite videogames and each was holding a sword in a hand much too human to be a bears. `` The fuck Mikey, what did you slip me?'' Was all Kev could say, trying his best not to panic. Mikey liked his hallucinogenics and while he did n't believe he was the type to dose him, it was n't impossible. That was his theory, until they spoke.
`` Warrior Kevin Mira of Earthrealm, our Lord of the Ursai Vol has selected you to represent him. Come with us.'' The smallest of the bear men said, though small was not what he would call him. Kevin was only 5'6'', this thing was at least a foot taller, and it was with this thought, plus the swords they carried that Kev followed without question.
In what felt like minutes they cleared the white forest and arrived at a huge castle of ice, with cherry blossoms white as snow growing all around it, causing their ice like petals to dance around the castle in perpetual motion, despite a distinct lack of wind. Kev nearly gasped when he saw it, but he did his best to hide his surprise. It was likely he failed when the bear man nearest to him snorted in amusement.
He was led into a chamber just off the main entrance of the ice citadel, a cracked round table in the center of the room with empty chairs at respectful distance around it. Standing in various forms of anticipation, fear or pride were men and women of all manner of type and species. A man wearing full plate and standing at attention behind a chair, a woman with skin as blue as the sea and eyes like rolling waves relaxed in one of the chairs, a creature with the body of a man but the head of a dog sat on the floor in the lotus position, and many many others.
`` Stand at attention at the seat marked with the head of a bear, when the Masters arrive say nothing unless spoken to. Oh, and don your battle attire, you look weak.'' Kev looked back at the bear man who spoke to him, arching an eyebrow.'My battle attire? Did he mean my gloves and shorts?' Kev shrugged and removed his sweatshirt, finding the room oddly warm anyways. Sliding his bag from his shoulders he drew out a pair of snow white boxing gloves, placing them on the table he removed his tshirt, revealing a long sleeve rashguard underneath, a Japanese tattoo like design covering the white arms and back of the skin tight fabric. He removed his jeans, revealing a matching set of skin tight spats and slide on a pair of white shorts to match. Sliding the boxing gloves on his hands he turned to the bear man behind him. `` Tie these to my hands.'' Without question the huge creature did so, and Kev took position behind the seat he was told too.
In a the next few minutes creatures of all sorts strolled into the room and took their seats at the table, one dragging the blue skinned woman with eyes of the sea out of her chair. Perhaps the largest'man' he had ever seen was his patron, over seven feet tall and likely in the thousands of pounds a white bear man took his seat in front of Kev, seated being taller then Kev was standing. He wore rich golds and purples in a thick robe covering his form, with a huge sword strapped to his hip.
Over the next few minutes each patron introduced their champion. The blue skinned woman with eyes like waves crashing into shore was named Sylindra, the Knight in fullplate was Tytheon, and the Anubis like creature was known as Arashin.
`` My champion is Kevin Mira of Earth Realm - a practitioner of of the hand to hand arts and the greatest warrior in potential of his realm, and therefore of all under my domain.'' Vol stated matter of fact, and Kev paled at the words. Kev could barely win a sparring match, he never placed beyond third in any regional Jiu Jitsu competition, he had been training for eight years and was n't even a Purple belt.
The greatest warrior on all of Earth? Kevin was n't even the greatest warrior in his own neighborhood. It was such a powerful statement, Kev barely caught the moment a man so pale he looked like a corpse walk in, all in attendance rose to their feet as he did.
`` Lord Mejai, the champions have been selected. Is the arena prepared?'' One of the patrons asked, and the man known as Mejai nodded. `` Welcome, Champions. You are brought here today with a great opportunity, win these fights to the death and you'll be granted the chance to serve Mistress Esme of the Feywild, granted immortality, wealth, and your own realm to rule.'' All the champions in attendance tensed at the words'death', but each seemed to be prepared to die. All except one.
Kev was visibly shaking and sweating, and the sneers and chuckles of his opponents were n't hard to hear. After much ceremony the meeting ended and Kev was ushered to his own room. `` We will provide you with superior equipment to what you have, Kevin Mira. Tell us the design you prefer, and we will replicate it but with superior materials.'' Kev was on autopilot, and without a word he handed them his extra set of spats, rashguard and shorts. He also handed them a set of shinguards and MMA style gloves. `` Keep them light, I need to be able to move more then I need to be able to block.'' He recalled saying at one point or another. They returned some hours later with beautiful, hand made examples of each. The spats and rashguard were made of the hide of a dragon, scaled but flexible and light, with a burnt orange color. The shinguards and gloves were made of a soft foam on the inside, with overlapping plates of mithril so perfectly fit they had no gaps but felt no heavier then standard.
`` You can deflect a blade with the gloves, the armor will protect you from fire and acid, as well as absorb glancing slashes and thrusts, but do not rely on it.'' He recalled the short bear attendant telling him, who he later learned was named Ka.
|
[ WP ] A master chef 's child has been kidnapped . The child will be killed if the chef fails to win a competitive cooking show and give the money to the kidnappers . While she can not say anything directly , she is attempting a desperate cry for help through her dishes .
|
The lights encapsulated his breathlessness. Everything had that spacd out quality to it, the feeling of tranquilizers and the apathy and hopelessness of grief. The lights were bright and he wondered why he was there.
*It's for her, * he thought.
But could he really think? That voice in his head was a stranger. Everything was strange. And he had given up hope. He was doing this for his wife, for her hope, and he wondered if she truly believed Angela to be alive. The TV ran the ads. His grief was exploited. The cameras captured every nuance of his sadness. He wondered why he was there. It was too late to go back.
It was funny how hollow it all looked. On TV it seemed like a real kitchen. The warmth of everything, the fullness of it all was gone. There was a cheap set. A black void of cables and mics and cameras and overweight underpaid grip boys.
*I've made it, * he thought.
It was almost time and his thoughts were wild and unfocused. Angela was the linchpin and she was dead. She had to be dead.
They ran the missing girl commercial and then hyped up the upcoming live episode of Cut. The other competitors pitied him, but they were different and self absorbed. There was a middle aged woman who looked unhappy and had veiny hands. A young boy with deep black hair. And older man who barely spoke English.
*Let them win, * he thought.
He had n't been able to eat since she was taken away. How could he cook?
It was time and the host introduced the show. Pitiful applause from the judges and the spotlight was on him.
`` But in the storm of adversity. In the blender of grief and sadness... This chef, chef Ramon, has done something brave. He has chosen not only to do what he loves. He has chosen not only to live his life, but to come here in the sharktank that is Cut! Will he win? Will he get cut? Three fantastic chefs are vying to do so. And so without further adieu: It's time to see who will come out on top and who will be... Cut!''
They opened their baskets and it was bread and cheese and some meat and something vile and something that was hard to pronounce. They had prepped them earlier about what could come, but he had forgotten it all.
He moved without thinking. The knife felt heavy in his hand. He felt himself working but his mind was gone and Angela was always near, but not really there. The old lady gave him a bad look.
*'' You think I will let a failure of a man win through pity? `` * she seemed to say.
She was making something. The other young boy was talking to the host and making something else. The older man was cooking with pepper.
*Why am I here? * he thought.
Then the answer came.
*Do it for her. *
Angela had always cooked with him. From a baby she would follow him around. She was his little helper and though she was dead now, there was no reason why that had to change. A headache was building and he knew that he should not, but he was past caring. He began to talk to her.
She was next to him and between his legs, running around and carrying things. He told her what he was doing. He made a meal that she would like. The others stared at him and there was a disquiet sense of unease.
*Who cares? *
And he finished in time.
The judges ate politely and he knew that he would get Cut. But they were live and the tweets were coming in.
*That poor man. *
*Oh my god / # PrayForRamon*
*He made bread and cheese because that was what his daughter loved / # FatherOfTheYear*
And they went on and on. The young boy was cut and he shook their hands and he shook Ramon's hand hardest and looked at him.
`` My mother is sick and could have used that money,'' he said and he walked away.
Round two was better and he was lost again and he spoke to Angela freely and he made chicken and chips for her though the basket contained no chicken.
Again he won and the sympathy poured in. The old lady got cut and she snorted through her nose and watched him hard like a goose and walked off.
Only him and the older man remained and now he was excited.
*We're winning kiddo. *
He lifted her up and spun her in the air.
`` You like that?''
Everyone was watching and he wondered what they were staring at. He had begun the ice cream and when it was finished he gave her a cup. The glass shattered on the floor.
`` You have to be more careful babe.''
And he cleaned it up and fed her from his. The older man made the sign of the cross. The time was ticking and when it was over he and Angela had eaten the ice cream.
The judges were silent and there was a tension that they usually would fake. But it was real and Ramon and the old man stood motionless. The judges floundered for words to placate him and then they went to a cliffhanger commercial and then they came back.
`` And now, the person who is Cut is...''
*We did it babe. We won. *
`` Ramon!''
There was a gasp and he began to laugh.
`` I'm sorry Ramon, but although it looked like you made a delicious icecream, we could not try it. It was a close round, but ultimately, you were cut.''
And he laughed harder.
`` Well at least we tried our best babe,'' he said and Angela looked up at him.
*'' You did your best daddy,'' * and he lifted her to his shoulders and began to walk away.
Somewhere in the corridors she disappeared and sanity had returned and he thought he could hear her scream.
*I'm going mad, * he thought.
He began to cry. There was a consolation prize of the same amount of money offered to him but he turned it down.
*Pointless, * he thought and he was shaking and sick.
He missed Angela and had no purpose now that the show was over.
*'' Daddy,'' * he thought he heard Angela say.
It echoed far and it sounded real. But it could not be real. In the crowds in the alleys near the studio he walked the night. He thought he saw Angela once and she was with a man and she was scared.
They met eyes and desperation was in her eyes. But she could not be real. His mind hurt and he was going crazy.
`` You're not real!'' he screamed and then he walked away.
*I might kill myself, * he thought and he thought he would.
The night grew long and he was home alone. His wife was gone and he did not care where. He dreamt of Angela and his dreams were nightmares. He never saw her again after that night.
|
[ WP ] You 've passed away and it turns out the Buddhist 's were right about reincarnation . Even better , you get to pick what you come back as . The only catch , you ca n't be the same thing twice .
|
A white light blinded me as I opened my eyes. It hurt but at least I was still alive.
`` That is not quite correct'', a voice proclaimed.
I sat up and looked around. There was whiteness everywhere.
`` Where am I? ``, I asked. `` Who are you?''
`` Always with the same questions. You should really think of some new ones. But let me give you an answer before your memory kicks in. You are dead and I am life itself. Nice to meet you - again.''
Just as the voice finished speaking a sharp sting hit me right between my ears. And while I was hunched over in pain I started seeing colours and movements. Then all of my other senses activated - even some I did not have before.
When it stopped I was lying on the floor again, breathing heavily. And I realised what those were: Memories. Memories of my past lifes. Thousands, no millions of lifes.
`` Yes, you always had a tendency of dying. Killed in a traffic accident. It's not even an interesting kind of death. I remember when you came back after a thunderstorm as the only tree stuck by lightning.
But let's digress. I fear there is only one choice left for you.''
`` What are you talking about?''
`` Reincarnation. I mean, I can not keep you here. But I can also not risk to put a soul into a species it already has experienced. The last time I tried this things got... unpleasant.''
`` So... wait! What will happen to me?''
`` I'm afraid you have died so often, there is only one choice left: The Deed Desert Dweller. It's a fungi living under the sands of the Sahara.''
`` Fungi... There are mushrooms in the desert?''
`` Under the desert, where not even humans dig. They dissolve stone and have no natural predetors. Their life span is about 3 million years.
Sorry, but you will have to wait for evolution to create some new species before you can get a more interesting life. You should have been more careful.''
***
And this is how I came here. How about you? Tell me about your past lifes. Yeah, I know - it takes years telling a story by growing and eating rocks. But do n't worry. I have time...
|
[ WP ] After killing the Nemean lion , Hercules created and wore a crown with its hair which boosted his powers . In 1971 , a young man found that crown and decided to wear it . His name is Donald .
|
`` This is quite unusual'', the tour guide said. Donald and his friends were on a guided African Safari. Large groups of animals seem to be waiting for their Jeep to go by. Instead of minding their own business, the animals are all looking at the Jeep but not coming close to it. Donald and his friends did n't think much about it - they were glad that they could see so many animals. But the Safari guide was sweating and even shivering a bit. He said that he has never seen anything even close this - predator and prey standing next to each other looking at the Jeep.
Donald did n't have to work - he had inherited enough money for him and his future generations. Some of his friends secretly thought he's a useless clown lavishly living on his inheritance, but they went along for the ride. But Donald did n't care - he could do whatever he wanted.
The day before they had been to the deep caves of Matador, where the locals believe ancient spirits still roam. The guide had warned them not to touch anything, but Donald tried to impress his friends by grabbing a few things along the way, including something that looked like a ridiculous wig. He wore it and his friends had a good laugh. He too thought it was funny and decided to keep wearing it for the rest of the trip.
When the Safari trip was completed, they could see the guide explaining what he saw to other guides, but they did n't think much of it. The next day on their trip to the local Zoo, Donald did notice something strange. Whenever he walked up to an animal cage, the animal kept staring at him and only him. They also looked terrified and were all staying at the other end of the cage, including the lions. When it got hot, he took his wig from his head and held in his hands. Then he noticed something else - the animals were staring at the wig in his hand.
He was thinking of throwing away the wig, but he felt something strange about the way animals were staring at it. He decided to take it back home to the US. He took it to the local zoo and soon he realized something - the wig made him the king of all animals.
The effect was not obvious in humans though. His wig, which he adopted has his permanent hair, made him the butt of many jokes. He did n't know how to convince them that he is their king. `` I'm the best there is'' he said, underselling the truth that he knows, and they laughed at him. He realized that he will have to earn that power over humans. He could see only one solution - become the leader of the most powerful nation on earth.
|
[ WP ] A 34 year old adult is having a conversation with his/her 15 year old self , but they do n't realize who they are talking to .
|
It would have been my usual Sunday walk, but I got laid off. At least that's what I tell myself anyways. The park was almost nicer than usual. If it were n't for all the screaming children and mothers gleaming with overblown adoration for their little hellions, I might be able to actually enjoy myself.
`` Hey look out dude!''
Before I had the chance to find the source of the warning, I found myself face down, with a mouth full of grass.
`` What... the fuck.'' I grumbled as I hoisted myself to my feet. Brushing off whatever grass and dirt I could. Fuck it, it's not like things could be any worse at this point.
`` Your phone fell out of your pocket.''
There was this look on his face that caught my eye. Like he felt as if he was doing this great big favor for an old man. You could almost see him patting himself on the back as he held my phone out.
I took a moment to better appraise this teenager in front of me.
A mostly typical teenager. That slightly awkward way he carried himself which was the hallmark of all teenagers getting used to the changing size and shape of their body. A glint of unshorn optimism in his eyes and a spring in his step that when taken together felt like an old, nearly forgotten memory.
`` Are n't you supposed to be in school right now? It's thursday.'' After finishing my inquiry I realized there was more bitterness in my voice than maybe I intended.
`` Well yeah, but I graduated early so I could spend more time taking care of my mom.'' He was having a hard time looking me in the eye now, guess my bitterness was a little strong. I actually kind of felt for the kid, I knew what that was like, having to grow up faster than everyone else. Maybe it was because I had the same problem at his age.
`` I actually would really appreciate your advice on something. I noticed your NASA shirt, and I've always wanted to become an astronaut.''
`` Sure kid, what do you want to know? Besides the fact that getting into a place like NASA is n't what it used to be.''
`` Haha yeah I bet, less slide-rules and more overpriced graphing calculators, am I right?'' He quipped. Little shit thought he was so clever.
`` Yeah, could be that, or it could be that instead of accepting the students with the best grades and test scores, the so-called'instructors' choose the most politically-connected candidates. So unless you can somehow turn back the hand of time and get yourself born to Daddy Warbucks, you're stuck on this shithole called Earth.''
His face fell like none I had ever seen before. I immediately felt a pang of regret and shame when I realized just how jaded I had let myself become. Whatever, the kid needs to know how life really operates.
He did n't respond, and the previously pleasant ambiance that was the usual noises of the park rapidly grew into a deafening roar as the awkwardness of our conversation descended upon us. Like a cold heavy cloak being draped over the boy, his body language became resigned and half-hearted.
He finally spoke up, but at barely more than a whisper. `` Well I guess that's that then. Have a nice afternoon, and sorry about the accident.''
He turned and began walking away. For a brief moment I felt a sudden urge to reach out and shake the boy. To tell him that I'm just a bitter old man. That he should chase his dreams with reckless abandon, as I had once hoped someone would have told me.
But my inner strength failed me, and as he walked away, I caught him popping the balloon of a child he was passing. There was something about his changed demeanor that I could n't shake...
|
[ WP ] After finally losing a long battle with schizophrenia , you end up in a mental institution surrounded by men and women who claim to be various religious figures . As time goes on , you start to suspect that one of them may actually be telling the truth ...
|
They allow me a diary here. It's not my diary though, make no mistake. It's so they can see, watch, evaluate. I'm taking the middle pages out of everyone's diaries to make my own book, hiding it in a slit in the mattress of my worn out, spiky, bumpy bed. Jesus, it's no wonder we're all mad here, none of us can ever sleep without medication because of these fucking awful beds, it gives them- the `` establishment'' a way of medicating us. Keeping us under control. Bridell Manor is the smallest mental institution around, it's cheap so it gets more patients. It's cheapness hides a multitude of sins, sins that hide people. People like Moe.
Moe is special. He shares a room with me, only he's currently in the `` can'' for his misbehaviour. It was n't misbehaviour, he proved a point to me, showed me the truth. You see, we are all labelled as schizophrenic, all of us- does n't that seem odd? That a 800 patient building is solely for those who are schizophrenic? Anyway, the oddest thing? They *all* believe they're religious figures, and we're not talking just Catholic priests here ( because let's face it, you'd need to be mad to be a Catholic priest ), some believe they're bishops, cardinals, 2 believe they're popes. Then you get to Moe. Moe is an angel; a real life, bonefide angel. The third son of Lucifer, he was cast from the fires of hell for having been borne white winged and pure. Lucifer cast him out into the world so that Adonael- an archangel- will find him and restore him to hell by banishment from on high. Sadly, when he started jabbering on about lucifer, hell, angels, demons... well, it does n't take a scientist to understand that he ended up squarely in Bridell.
Now normally I'm as religious as a brick. And I thought I'd never change that after my own experiences with catholicism, that wretched religion bathed and steeped in so much history that it hides it's failings and flaws behind celebrations, movements of priests hide crimes, as I sit here now I still shake my head at the hypocrisy of it all. It was n't meant to be like that though. You have to believe me, me who hates the church like no other, me who is sat in an insane asylum because of the voices. Me. Believe me. Please. Lucifer made the church not God or angels. I'm well aware that lucifer in his own right is an angel, but he's hiding amongst the godly to find passage into heaven. Turning good men and women to bad, evil people in the hopes that God will stop him. It's been almost 3000 years since jesus was put on the cross- what makes him think he's going to now? MOE. Moe is lucifer's white flag. A truce flag. It could change the way our world exists and he's stuck! In here of all places! We need to get out. We need to escape... tonight... wish us luck.
FOUND 2ND OF MAY 2989. PROPERTY OF BRIDELL POLICE.
|
[ WP ] Belief and faith makes the gods exist . A new God is born , so areas and terrible the other gods fear it . A God of memes .
|
Zeus rumbled at the podium. Regal, commanding, a domineering presence. It fell to him to anchor the gods in such trying times. He, too, was scared.
`` My friends, I know we have had our disputes... But the time has come to band together,'' he cast his eyes over the crowd. There were allies, there were enemies, even older presences than he had come out of their slumber. Ares nodded to him, polishing his sword. Quetzalcoatl hissed in agreement.
There were n't that many of them left. Poseidon had fallen, Atlantis occupied by an army of frogs on unicycles. Artemis attempted to hunt a wolf, which turned around and killed her.
Countless scenes played out across all the realms, as humanity expanded out from its own territory. This was a god who had no lofty ambition, no domain of his own. Changing, unpredictable, seeking only destruction and temporary gratification.
Zeus continued to speak, but the hall heard the low rumblings of a voice even deeper, more commanding than his. One that filled mortal hearts with hope, and filled theirs with despair.
*'' What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little shit? Ill have you know I graduated top of my class in the Pantheon, and Ive been involved in numerous secret raids on Hell and I have over 300 confirmed Deicides. I am trained in crusading and...'' *
Zeus closed his eyes and awaited death, as the gorillas began to swarm in.
|
[ IP ] The Last Human
|
Sirens blared through the drizzling rain, and the ground shook with each approaching step of the Hunters. Every stomp produced a squelching crunch of cracking pavement, and a powdery dusting of plaster drifted down from the crumbling ceiling above and coated the blanket in TXV2128's arms. The little human inside squirmed and writhed, but miraculously did n't wake.
The Hunters grew closer; 2128 could see their piercing spotlights peering into windows down the block. The shrieking sound of twisting steel filled the street as one of the Hunters advanced, stepping through an abandoned car. Only a few more houses to check until they found what they were looking for.
2128 prepared to leave; waiting was no longer a viable option. Despite being an older model, 2128 had had significant upgrades, many of them quite unusual for a Nanny configuration. `` Jailbroken,'' Tom had called'her'. The Allensons, 2128's family before the war, had become quite attached and refused to trade her in for one of the newer models. And it ended up saving their lives, at least for a while; when the TYA series became self aware, TXV2128 had been able to hide the family from the purges. Eventually, though, the TYAs found out about the modifications that some of the older bots had; modifications that allowed them to reject the update programming. And so 2128 became a target too.
In a sudden burst of light and a cacophony of sound, one of the hunters opened fire, demolishing a nearby house in a few quick seconds. Probably just a cat or something, but Hunters did n't take chances. In 2128's arms, the child stirred. The infant scrunched up its face and bawled its fists, taking air into its lungs: getting ready to cry. There was no more time. 2128's metal feet pounded as she bolted up the steps and through the living room, slipping slightly on the wet wooden floors soaked in rain coming in from the holes in the roof. Outside, the sirens changed to a deep, low *thrum*: they had detected her. The human bawled as they sailed together through a window in a shower of broken glass, out into the alley behind the house. She heard explosions as the Hunters tore the house apart behind her. She turned and caught a brief glimpse a single thick, metal arm protruding through the brick as the house collapsed. Hunters rose up over the broken crest of roofs, scanning the area with bright lights. She heard the distant sound of helicopters approaching as she thundered through the alley, sprinting as fast as she could possibly run.
She had almost reached the end of the alley. Nowhere to go but back out into the main streets, watched by cameras at all time. The infant in her arms screamed, waving its tiny chubby arms into the air. In front of her, a manhole opened up, and TFZ model popped out, even older then 2128. One of its LED eyes had burnt out, and its metal chassis was pockmarked with scratches and burns. It quickly gestured at her, and pointed down the hole. She had no option, and no time to think. Clutching the child, she skidded to a halt in a flurry of gravel and dove into the inky blackness below.
|
[ WP ] In order to get people more interested in politics , the US government hosts a `` Dictator for a Day '' raffle . Congratulations , you have just won .
|
I was changing my sons diaper when I became Dictator of the US for a day.
It took about 20 minutes for the first news van to get to my house. I ignored them. Luckily the police had already showed up and stopped them from coming to the door. I mainly sat on my couch and watched my son play. His new thing was taking objects out of one thing and putting them into another. He also liked to dance.
20 minutes after that the Government showed up. I let them in. One of them had a briefcase attached to his arm with handcuffs.
`` The rules'' began the Government representative said after we'd all sat down at my kitchen table ( my son in his high chair eating Cheerios ) `` are as follows:
1. ) You ca n't alter the Constitution or Bill of Rights.
2. ) You ca n't kill anyone.
3. ) You ca n't declare war.
4. ) You can not dissolve the basic structure of the government.
5. ) You have to honor states rights whenever possible.
6. ) You ca n't declare yourself permanent Dictator.
Other than that you basically can do what you want. In about an hour we'll have a team of lawyers here to help you with anything you might want to accomplish. Technically your day starts at noon... so in about 4 hours.''
I sat there, sort of dumbfounded by it all. My son needed more Cheerios so I gave him some more.
`` OK - say... I do n't know... say I wanted to change campaign finance laws - could I do that?''
`` Yes - we can probably make that work - that's not in the Constitution and it should n't affect the basic structure of the Government itself - remember too that anything you do can just be changed back - that's one of the conditions - everything can be `` recalled'' so to speak if there is enough support for such a thing...''
I stood up from the table and walked over to the chalk board and erased what was on it. I wrote:
'- Campaign Finance.'
`` I'd like to get my dad here as soon as possible - can we make that happen?''
`` Yes.''
`` He lives in Cleveland - I assume you need his name and address?''
`` Yes - what is it.''
One of the guys in the background was on the phone and repeated the name and address to someone. He hung up and said: `` OK, it should take about 3 hours for him to get here.''
`` Awesome.'' My son was crying so I gave him some more Cheerios. `` Oh call them back and tell them to bring my Mom too... Who's the guy with the Briefcase.''
`` Well technically you are in charge of the military - well... it's a bit complicated... the President is still Commander in Chief and is still working today... and you have no powers of war but he's here just as a precaution - if anything happens the President will still be the one acting Commander and he retains his full authority... really he probably does n't need to be here but in case something happens we thought it better for him to be here.''
`` OK... do n't know who I'd attack anyways.''
`` I imagine not.''
`` Can I get the President here too or do you not want us together?''
`` We'd rather he was n't here - we can get him on the phone.''
`` OK... well... look my son needs to take a nap soon... can you guys just like hang out here for a bit while I put him down? My wife is at work all day. Well... can I get her out of work? I suppose I could right? Hmm... she's not on call... yeah... yeah... at Noon let's get her here too....OK - just hang out. Grab whatever you want from the fridge or water or whatever.''
I took my son into the living room - he was more than ready for a nap at this point and he did n't like all the people in the house. I looked outside and saw that there was a pretty serious police cordon set up around the whole house. Thankfully the noise was n't too bad and my son went down relatively quickly and it gave me a few minutes to think.
I walked back into the kitchen to the five guys sitting there.
`` I guess I'm safe here.''
`` We've thought about that - it will be basically impossible to move you to a different location without everybody knowing anyway. We do n't think anyone will try to take you out but we've got the Missouri National Guard and the 12th Infantry coming in to keep an eye on things.''
`` Good. I'll want a tax lawyer. And an expert on the department of the interior. Also as many finance people we can find.'' I walked over to the board and wrote:
'-Taxes
-National Parks
-Financial Markets
-Education'
`` And experts on education. Actually no... just get me teachers. I'll also want anyone who understands how schools are funded.'' Multiple guys were on the phone now. I should probably learn their names.
`` I guess we'll be spending a lot of time together huh? Tell me about yourselves.''
*****
Everyone thought I should introduce myself to the country. I put on the suit I wore for my wedding ( second time I've worn it ) - I also had to clean up my beard and the brought in someone to cut my hair - and my wife put on a very pretty wrap dress. My mom picked out an outfit for my son. I'd been working on my speech for a while - my parents, my wife, and my good friend ( who was a lawyer and a writer ) worked on the language as they flew across the country ( I had also decided to get my sisters and their families here in town as well ). Lots of faxes and drafts and crossings out.
I had spoken to the President and the Leaders of both houses. I did n't tell them much - most of what I wanted to say they would hear in my speech. I told them that after my speech I'd give them each 30 minutes of time to talk about what they liked and did n't like.
At exactly noon ( we'd gotten my wife out almost immediately actually just for her security and to keep the riff raff out of the hospital ) my wife, holding my son, and I stepped out onto the porch where a lectern had been set up. I waved to everyone. My son had just learned to wave and he waved too. The crowd giggled. I approached the lectern and pulled out a stack of 3x5 cards out of my jacket. I set them on the lectern and took a deep breath.
``'My reading of history convinces me that most bad government results from too much government.' For the next 24 hours - I am the Government and it can not be said that one person is too many. You all know my name. What you do n't know is what I intend to do with my 24 hours and what affect it might have on you. I hope to accomplish much but am wary of overextending my reach. Here is what you can do to best serve your country and your government over the next 24 hours:''
I flipped to the second card.
`` I feel that proper dissemination of information is the most important thing for our citizens. I have been given the power to change laws ( but NOT the Constitution ) and as such I will be posting those changes online, in full, as soon as they are written. I have been working with reddit.com both to ensure the accurate posting of information and to ensure that everyone will be able to access the information without causing a website to become inoperable. I encourage all regular news websites to post the information in full as well.''
Another card flip.
`` What might I be changing you ask? Well, as most of you probably know, I have a teaching degree and education is very important to me, and to my wife and family. Today I will be meeting with teachers from the City and County as well as conferencing with superintendents from all over the country in order to discover what is most needed in our schools. I am not allowed to violate states rights - education has always been a tricky issue between the federal government and the states. My goal is to ensure that every child has access to a free education, starting with pre-school, and that no school has to cut art, music, dance or any creative art because of a funding shortage. I also want to ensure that higher education is affordable to all students.''
Flip.
`` To that end my first official act as dictator is to immediately and permanently forgive ALL student loan debt for any US Citizen who has graduated and has debt. To all of you currently in school I encourage you to stay tuned.''
Flip.
`` There are many other issues of which I am interested in. Today you will be hearing much more about Education but also about campaign finance, taxes, our national parks and environmental legacy, and our financial markets. I also am very interested in our nation's apathy when it comes to voting. I encourage you to carefully read everything that will be presented to you over the next 24 hours. I hope that many of you will agree with my ideas. Thank you.''
|
[ WP ] You were our only hope and you failed .
|
You know, our entire fucking world is riddled with contradictions. Logic really makes no sense at all. I might of just killed the entire human race with one fucking, god forsaken, piece of shit bullet. One bullet kills 16 billion, ridiculous right? Well I am watching that happen right now, but I wont be for much longer.
My mission was simple. Infiltrate the criminal organization and kill their leader. I succeeded. I shot him the chest, and I watched him die. I spent 16 years gaining his trust. I destroyed, stole, raped, and murdered for that sick bastard. I wanted to see anger on that mans face, knowing that he had been bested at his own game. But I saw anguish, and you know what, that was kinda a nice expression too.
It was only 8 hours later when I realized how what I had *really* done. That most evil man was the greatest saint this fucking world has ever seen. Gifted with the foresight and conviction to dirty his own hands with what needed to be done, and I had killed him. I had killed the lynchpin.
When I removed that pin the whole system came down. That man controlled so much evil that he occupied every remaining countries most wanted. That word is what we all fucking missed. He CONTROLLED all the FUCKING, GOD DAMN evil. He had gathered it all to protect us. He could n't stem the flow, but he could offer some control over all the evil. I removed that control and now the devils set to work divvying up their masters kingdom, slaughtering millions and engaging in the turf war that would lead to extinction.
In my mission I succeeded, and in that success I failed us all. Success and failure? Is there even a difference to begin with? That mans thousand evil acts could have save millions, but my one good leads to the death of billions. Fuck that and its fucking logic.
So here I sit, the same gun that opened his stomach just opened mine. Its only fitting that we should die in the same way right? The two most evil should die as one right?.
Is n't it said that you think clearest in you time of death? Well, I cant make heads or tails of anything. Right and wrong, up and down, failure and success are really just perspectives. Is anything really different in the first place?
Are life and death any different?... I fucking hope so.
|
[ WP ] `` Time will remember us . ''
|
# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap )
Corporal North fell back with a strangled cry, three feet of an arrow shaft sticking out his chest as he dropped his Model 55 rifle. Brevetted Captain Hilary Flint snarled and fired his priceless Browning Hi-Power at the direction of the offending killer. A green cloaked Spriggan fell from his treetop perch screaming, his cries cut short as the rope wrapped round his waist jerked taut. A war cry went up among the treeline, a banshee wail that drove itself in the skull of those who heard it.
*'' Garathalith Teredelial! `` *
The ambushed squadron of soldiers and mercenaries raised a cheer of their own, one shouted by their fathers and grandfathers in the days of Arrival.
`` Fuck the Elves!''
`` First rank, fire!''
The space in front of the blue shirted lines erupted in white smoke as two hundred rifles fired. The sound of whirring bullets was like a nest of angry hornets, the sound of the heavy lead striking Elvish flesh like a hundred meat hammers having at it. The trees and undergrowth echoed with the sound of wounded fey, shouting for their gods or their mothers in their alien tongues.
`` Second rank, fire!''
Another two hundred rifles barked their lethal shot, another chorus of screams rending the air. The first rank was already reloading, flipping up the trapdoor actions of their weapons and shoving a new cartridge as soon as the first ejected, slamming it shut and raising the weapon to their shoulders.
Their ambush foiled the Spriggans dropped their bows and took up spear and shield or else tall curving two handed swords. They charged out of the brush, cloaks fluttering behind them like green banners as they loosed the toggles round their necks. Flint's pistol shot as fast as he could pull the trigger, a least a half dozen of the lithe foes falling dead or wounded.
`` First rank, fire!''
Again two hundred rifles fired as one, again scores of Elves fell lifeless on the mid-summer grass.
`` Second rank... Prepare to fire... Fire!''
Barely fifty yards away the casualties were staggering, the.45 caliber bullets often tearing through one Spriggan and wounded the one behind him. At thirty yards the sergeants leveled their submachine guns, slim black things that look more a piece of welded metal than a weapon. The 9mm Re-Stens opened up, the lighter weight of their projectiles made up in sheer volume of fire.
`` Prepare to receive charge!'' Flint shouted as junior officers and NCO echoed it, the enlisted moving as one as the first rank dropped their bayoneted rifles to chest height, their comrades behind them with their bladed weapons over their shoulder.
Flint emptied the last of his pistol's magazine into the face of one swift looking Elf, the bullet blowing a chuck of his brains and skull out the back of his head in a shower of gore. Roaring defiance and hatred he drew his officer's saber and aimed it the charging foe.
***'' Molon Labe! `` ***
|
[ EU ] After his redemption in the Return of the Jedi , Darth Vader does n't die . Instead he lives on to help rebuild the Republic .
|
`` You must feel the force all around you,'' the Master spoke, `` and you must breathe in its deep-rooted meanings.'' The small training remotes fired at the small Jedi Younglings, each of them doing their best to deflect the tiny bolts that would hit them. `` You must learn to let go of your conscious self, feel the force flow through you, and act on your instinct.''
One of the Younglings deflected a few bolts in a row, and the Master nodded, `` Good young Xisak, an improvement from yesterday.''
`` Thank you, Master Skywalker.''
A few footsteps approached the training room as a young woman stepped into the doorway, two distinct buns on either side of her head, `` Brother, our father is requesting our presence.''
Luke looked up from his sight of the Younglings as each of them withdrew their training sabers and lifted the facemasks off of their heads. Each of them bowed their heads to the female master.
`` His meditations?''
`` Are complete. The training can wait.''
He nodded and stood upwards, `` Go about your day younglings, and remember to meditate on the force after supper.'' He joined the woman and they began to walk through the halls of Al'dur, `` Did he say for what reason?''
`` He did not. Simply asked to speak to us both.''
The male Master nodded, `` How is General Solo?''
She laughed, `` *General* Solo? Who would have thought?'' She nodded, `` He does well, hunting down an Imperial elite squadron in the Tatooine sector.''
`` I should have known they would return there.''
`` They believe their leader has not yet fallen.''
He scoffed, `` Fallen? He has risen once again, Leia.''
Leia nodded, `` Yes, of course,'' she shook her head, `` Foolish of me.''
`` Nonsense. Fools are the ones who think the world turns for them.''
Leia and Luke walked through the halls before they arrived at the large doors of the meditation chambers. Leia looked to her brother, `` He has not seen you in some time.''
He nodded, `` I know.''
Leia pushed the door open and Luke followed. The two entered a large black room with a central chamber, where a large egg-shaped device sat in the middle. The device hissed open as soon as they entered and the distinct noise of mechanical breathing could be heard as soon as it opened.
Both Leia and Luke knelt as their father's helmet emitted his presence, `` My children.'' He said between breaths, `` I have located the final key to the puzzle.''
Luke and Leia stood upwards, both of them letting their hoods fall to their sides as they stared at their father. Even though he had joined them once again, his wounds by Obi-Wan would have never healed properly. The suit, as intimidating as it was, was needed to allow his survival.
`` You have found their resting place?''
`` I believe I have, though we shall need to search for more.''
`` We?'' Leia pressed.
Their father nodded, `` Yes. This is something I will need *both* of you for.''
Leia and Luke glanced at each other. In the short time their father had returned to them, he had never once let them work together on anything, so much as training Younglings. Leia was in charge of bureaucratic responsibilities and received training separately from her brother, who trained new Younglings and gathered data on the Old Archives.
`` I know it comes as a shock. But you are both ready, and I,'' he took a deep breath, enhanced by his suit, `` *need* both of you.''
`` Of course,'' Luke said for the two of them.
Before Leia could say anything the distinct beeping of R2 could be heard as he rolled into the room with C3P0 in tow, `` Oh R2! R2, get back here!''
R2 slid to a stop as he turned to face Luke, Leia, and their father, and C3P0 also seemed to stop at their presence. R2 beeped several times in a high-pitched delightful tone.
`` Bless the Creator himself!''
Luke and Leia's father laughed through his suit, something both foreign to him and his children. They all stared at him before he turned to face him and Luke knew that inside, his father was smiling.
`` It's good to be home,'' he whispered between choked breaths.
______
*Fantastic prompt! Thank you so much! *
|
[ WP ] Go to Wikipedia , click random article , and write a story inspired by/about where it takes you .
|
It was another day. Another day, here in the life, the love, of new orleans. Or, as he knew it, home; his refuge from the far away places that he had twisted and contorted to get out of.
It was another day, he thought, as the filler played over the radio broadcast. His wife would be in a moment to bring in his lunch; the same bronzed catfish he'd caught the day before fishing off of the bridge over the east end of the Orleans parish near lake pontchartrain. As he tapped his pen against the mahogany statesman at his fingertips, he looked around his broadcast room.
Here, he thought, was the efficacy, the matter of life; the things he lived for. He'd found his way into speaking over the airwaves to the entire city, an embodiment to the culture that he'd only read about in the weird paper back home in Missouri. Here and now, was life, all around him, in its infinite sufferings but endless jewels of happiness, shining faintly out, yet strongly with the sense of hope on their heels, like a stray quarter laid to rest on the bottom of one of the city square's murky fountains.
He lived in a good part of town, but that did n't make it any easier to turn away from the poverty in southern Louisiana. It was a spirit, an almost responsibility, that those all around him bore as alike a passion for, above all class and race, enjoying the art and humanity of their great and homely city. This is what made him stay. That unplaceable sense of identity one takes home after a stroll through the quarter, or the life squeaked out of a young trumpet player on the street corner, or the view of the steamers lazing their way through the mississippi river; it was that feeling of truth that he felt in the foremost of his heart, that here, all was good. Even in the worst of times, the touch of humanity gifted upon their city was the reason why he picked up his microphone, and signed off the afternoon show, the same as he always had.
*'' From here on WWL-AM, this is Naturally N'Awlins... Live it! `` *
http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frank_Joseph_Davis
|
[ WP ] God has spoken to you , and tasked you with unifying the world in peace . You 're a 110-lb Zima-drinking accountant with a WoW addiction .
|
The ceremony was going to be broadcast world wide. There was Sandy Kellorman looking around, smiling.
He had been a nobody, an accountant that was into WoW, drank zima, and did n't really have any great aspirations.
Then something changed. Only those closest to him knew the true story, that he heard the voice of God, everyone else just got the standard press story that he `` Felt inspired'' and that he could somehow `` make a difference''.
And now here he was ready to accept the Noble Peace Prize. The whole world was now unified in peace, something no one could have foreseen.
And there in the audience were Sandy's closest friend, unable to meet each others gaze. Sandy would fall asleep every night in front of his computer. So one day, they decided to prank him.
All it took was a wireless speaker and Sandy was suddenly awakened to the voice of God telling him he must do something with his life.
Tim had n't thought Sandy would ask'what' he should do with his life. He also had no idea why his first thought was to reply `` Unify the world in peace''. But now here sat a group of friends that accidentally inspired their friend to one of the greatest achievements in human history. Derek had even suggested maybe saying `` Gottcha'' just after the Madrid Accord, but it just seemed that they would have to be quiet.
|
[ WP ] A man discovers that his split personality is plotting suicide .
|
I woke up with the gun in my hand. In the first few delirious moments of waking, I had simply thought that I had somehow palmed the weapon while sleeping, since that was not so far-fetched, was it? But then when I suddenly found myself with the gun yet again in my hand -- only this time sitting in my reading chair -- I knew that something was wrong. It was *him*. I tried not to think of him too much, because whenever I dwelled for too long on him, I would lose control and he would take over. It was n't like a switch, like something that overtakes me and I'm trapped in some chamber while *he* comes out. No, it's not quite like that.
It's a peculiar feeling, like staring into the mirror for too long and realizing, suddenly, that it is not you that is staring back, but a stranger. I can feel my body and mind replaced with somebody else's and there is nothing I can do about it. Sometimes I black out, and I call those power naps, since I usually wake up refreshed and wide-awake. But back to the pressing matter at hand: my suicide. I'm pretty miserable, and *he* is too, but he does n't realize it yet. I'd like to end it all, at least for me, but I'm not sure what he would think of it. I've been leaving him clues, little suggestions, like the gun. I know if I can just plant the seed, the fruit will come. I'm miserable. I hate myself and I ca n't stand it when *he* comes, it's terrible.
I had tried therapy, but I do n't think it worked. He's always depressed, and sometimes it leaks over onto me. My mood swings so often and paranoia is an extremely easy trap to fall into. At times I wonder if the gun would be the best option. Pills are fine, but the gun is quicker. But if I did end it all, what would happen to *him*? It's not fair, but that was n't abnormal. He is the one who gets to talk to Amber. He is the one who maintains control eighty percent of the time. The gun was in my hand again. I thumbed the hammer back and it clicked. The sound it made was oddly comforting. Maybe I should just end it without waiting for his consent. He's trying to kill me, is n't he? I need to get rid of this gun. I put the gun against my head and thought about it. Today could be the day it all ended. No, that would n't be fair to me, would it? I put the gun down and looked at it strangely. I did n't remember picking it up.
|
[ WP ] You can visit animals in their dreams , what do your pets dream about ?
|
Bodies of partially dismembered bodies littered the floor of the cardboard kingdom. All manner of beast and man lay before the throne in great heaps, a tribute to their leader. Naked humans wandered aimlessly throughout the carnage their owner had wrought, falling down and making horrible noises mimicking their king. It was an awful noise but I knew it came from a place of respect so it was allowed.
One of the humans approached bringing offering to appease me, I found it unacceptable and sent his twitching corpse to the pile. This did not stop the others from bring treasure to me though, it was their duty.
All manner of offering was presented from food to intriguing mechanisms of string and fur. The offerings that pleased me were rewarded with two head scratches.
Not three.
One slave tried three and lost a hand in the effort. It was lucky it did n't lose more, but as a benevolent leader I can show mercy from time to time.
The last slave brought and intoxicating metal can filled with bite sized fish chunks. The clever human had caught and prepared this fishy delight with great thought and care towards its leader. It was acceptable and the human was rewarded with the greatest treat. One belly rub.
The slave wisely chose not to overstep and left with only minor lacerations. It walked away from the cardboard throne showing the marks to the other slaves who mewed in awe.
I tired of entertaining the peasants so I sent my favorite slave to fetch the nip. He ran away before the blood lust took me, a wise slave indeed.
Before the nip seized my mind I gazed down at my kingdom. I was a mighty leader.
I was a God.
I let the nip take me, I was ready to do battle with the red devil. It would not escape me this time.
No one escapes a God.
-- -
I woke up to find Whiskers staring at me, inches from my face.
`` You want some tuna?'' I stuttered.
Whiskers meowed softly and I got up to fetch an offering.
-- -
Here's more stuff. /r/DirtandPoncho
|
[ WP ] A woman falls in love with Death and commits murder countless times just to catch a glimpse of him .
|
First time posting on WritingPrompts, constructive criticism would be* highly appreciated.
The sun was in full force that day, unhindered by a cloudless baby blue sky, drawing the august haze out of the ground that turned everything into a shimmering panoramic mirage. It was hot and as Josie drove down the dusty dirt road that wound through the never ending landscape of hedges and patchy grass in her rickety pickup truck, she began to peer through the windshield searching for the giant oak tree she had passed beforehand on the same road, the only shade for miles around. Then she spotted it. The tree was a dark green mushroom rising out of a sea of beige dirt, massive and wide languishing under the unrelenting sunlight. She swerved off the dirt road and after a few minutes of bumpy driving she arrived beneath the oak's gnarled branches and hopped out of the truck. She let the light breeze that seemed to circulate in the shade underneath the oak cool the thin layer of sweat that covered her body underneath a loosely fitted white dress. As she stood with her arms outstretched she let out a long breath and drew another in, letting the earthy smell fill her nostrils.
What a beautiful place to die, she thought.
With that in mind she fetched the coil of hemp rope out of the back of the pickup and hoisted it over her shoulder and looked up at the branches of the oak. She unrolled a length of the rope and after a few tries she had looped one end of the rope over a particularly thick branch. Then she opened the passenger seat door of the truck.
In the passenger seat there was another woman. She had a piece of duct tape over her mouth and her wrists were bound with more duct tape. Her eyes were opened wide and blood had caked on the back of her head where shed been with a metal bat a few hours beforehand. But besides those differences, she looked exactly like Josie.
Her name was Rosie.
Josie hoisted the woman out of the seat and onto the ground, coiled the end of the rope around the woman's neck, tied the rope into a noose and tightened it. She brushed back the woman's hair and took the duct tape off her mouth.
`` So it was you,'' Rosie said, hatefully.
`` Yep, the whole time,'' Josie confessed as she walked over to the other end of the rope.
`` I should have known, you crazy bitch.''
`` You should have. Anything you want to tell mom and dad?''
`` You're gon na do them too? Jesus. When they catch you, you're gon na pay for what you've done.''
`` Maybe. Goodbye I guess. Any last words?''
`` Fuck you.''
Rosie spit at Josie, but it did n't quite reach.
It was only when Josie began to pull the other end of the rope that Rosie tried to scream, but nothing came out except a whine that barely audible over the sound of the heels of her shoes knocking together as she kicked, struggling to free herself. From a distance Josie watched the Rosie's face intently, trying
to read the thoughts going through Rosie's mind as they registered on her face. The moment was coming, she knew, she was waiting for it. Rosie's kicking began to slow, and then it happened, her body went limp and her eyes flickered. For a split second Josie could feel the life leaving Rosie, as if death had come to bring Rosie's soul somewhere far away, leaving behind just a blue faced corpse. Then the moment was gone, the wave of exhilaration running through Josie's spine dissipated, leaving her with a disappointed aftertaste. She released the rope and sat down on an exposed root, letting Rosie's corpse crumple face down on the ground.
Then all of a sudden it came to her why she had decided to hang her twin sister and she stood up again, and removed the noose from Rosie's neck.
They found the two bodies under the tree several days later, in similar states of decomposition, one on the ground her hands bound behind her back with duct tape, and the other hanging from the oak tree in a white dress.
|
[ WP ] Two soldiers in a chaotic battle are bleeding out next to each other . To ease the pain and grief , they share their funniest memories before dying .
|
She lay there, wishing the flies would fuck off: her eyes were red and swollen from their stinging bites and if she had the strength she'd have slapped herself in her own face to smash them. Nasty little bastards, bad as the lice she'd contracted off a dead man when the JNA came through in the hills and she had to burrow down into the dead and keep herself still when they pried out her teeth for a speck of gold.
All around her Vitez burned, and the crows circled, and somewhere artillery roared and guns chattered. It stank of blood and piss and shit in this bleak little corner, where an artillery shell had turned a clump of smoking militants into so much red chaff.
`` Fuck,'' she said, and wished for a cigarette. Her last Drina she'd given to a dying man, he looked so damn pitiful, and now she wanted the nasty thing back, good conscience be damned.
There was a cough, a moan, and Edona turned her head and rolled her eyes to see a young man, Endre or something, a Muslim-Serb who should n't have lasted a day, he was too young and fresh and idealistic. His sort were typically mowed down quick and fast, but somehow he'd got through and now here he was, dying with her.
`` Endre?'' she said, and winced.
`` Darko, you fuck,'' he said, and whimpered.
Edona grinned, bloody and wide. `` Excuse me, I'm dying. God, I'd castrate you for a cigarette.''
He coughed and she heard blood in his lungs, and rolled her eyes to watch a raven circle close.
`` God,'' he said, so low and quiet she almost did n't hear him. `` Oh God, please...''
`` Hey,'' she said, and turned her head painfully to face him again, and this time he looked at her. He could n't look much worse than her, but good God the poor kid was a wreck. Blood in spider-webs across that fine-boned face, eyes and ears bleeding from a fractured skull, ribcage twisted the wrong way and mouth open to dribble blood. `` You know Luka?''
Darko just stared, and she wondered if he were blind now. But it felt like she ought to say something.
`` Well, we're in heavy fire, right? In Mostar. And he's crouched over the radio, and twisting through what's going on, and he hears'' -- she paused, wincing as her chest seared with pain --'' he... he hears someone he knows. And he stops and listens, and his face just goes beet red, and then he tries to climb out of our goddamn trench so we grab him. And he says, he says,'that's my brother!' So we say,'So?' You know how these things are. And he's shrieking, and cursing his brother, his'stupid fucking brother, an absolute moron', just on and on about how his brother must be be brain-damaged, a'syphilitic son of a whore'. Saying something about... about joining, you know, he and his brother joining the Croats. Then I ask him what he means. And he looks me dead in the eye and says his brother thought he meant HV.'''
It took a moment, and then Darko gave a bubbling laugh that petered off into a choking hacking.
`` Sorry,'' Edona said, blinking and frowning upward: her eyes had blurry around the edges and she was quite cold.
After a moment Darko caught his breath, and then said, in a voice so thick with pain she scarcely understood him, `` I knew a boy... young boy. He steps on a mine during a patrol, the poor fuck... he looks'' -- a pause, a gasp --'' and he says,'What do I do?' I do n't... to say. So my brain says before my mouth,'Jump twenty feet up and spread yourself... over... wide area.''
She laughed, or tried to, and Darko smiled at her. He could n't see her anymore, of that she was certain: his eyes were full of blood and his nose had begun to run red, a bubble of blood sputtering with every breath.
`` I used to go this coffee shop,'' she said, and he wheezed. `` Dritan's. It had such good cakes. I was hungry once, when we were here... before you... and Marko, he looks at me and he says, he says to go get us some coffee, he wants to try this, it sounds damn good.''
`` Why --'' Darko's voice was little more than a whisper.
`` Because I love it so much I scream it's name when I get fucked.''
Edona smiled, but there was no answer from Darko.
`` The daughter of a Serbian and a Jew,'' she said, catching her breath with a few sharp gasps, `` comes to her father. Am I a Jew or a Serb? she asks. Her father says,'Why do you want to know?' The girl says,'Because a boy wants to sell me his bike, and I do n't know if I should bargain with him or beat him up and take it.'''
She waited, watching the crows, shivering as the wind hunted the gaps in her clothes.
`` Darko?'' she said.
His blood had masked his face with red by then, and his mouth was open. His shattered chest struggled to rise, collapsed, tried again, and gave up with a convulsive heave. One heel kicked, just once, and then fell still, and she caught a whiff of urine and shit.
And through the haze and the pain, she saw his chest pocket, bulging with a small carton, half-opened by one gory hand.
`` You poor fuck,'' Edona said.
|
[ WP ] Two brothers playing find a door in a barn that takes them back in time . One day the barn burns down when one of the brothers has gone through the door .
|
When he turned sixteen, Joe's present from our father was a gold-plated lighter with a skull etched into the side. Like that, he ensured his own son's mysterious disappearance that would keep our small town talking for more than a decade and me an only child. Joe loved that lighter as much as Dad loved Joe. I was always mother's favourite but Joe and Dad used to spend all their time together. He used to shove the lighter in the back pocket of his worn denim jeans, and take it out whenever he was talking with someone. He'd flick open the heavy lid and strike the flint with his thumb, lighting the flame up. He rigged it so that the fire was as tall as my thumb and sometimes we'd watch it in the dark when we were supposed to be asleep, wavering away in the summer night air.
When I was seven he held the hot metal to my arm until my screaming alerted our mother. Joe got beaten till he was black and blue but they did n't take the lighter away. There's a little scar there still, on the dark skin of my left arm. No hair grows there now and it's still scar-tissue soft to the touch.
The barn stood empty. The left part of the roof had fallen in by the time we found it, but there was enough rubbish scattered around to suggest it'd been used plenty before we decided it was ours. There were leftover scraps of hay which we brushed aside and metal buckets which leaked. In one bramble covered corner there were the twisted remains of some beast of a farm instrument, which we left untouched because Joe had just done a piece on tetanus for school.
`` Come on Billy!'' Joe had stood in the barn's loft. `` Come up to the crow's nest!'' In one hand he held a sharpened stick. He was allowed to have a sword because he was the pirate. I was the sea monster and I was n't allowed one. I already had a couple of bruises and a sharp scrape across my thigh. He could be a little reckless.
`` It's a bit high, Joe.'' I glanced up at him nervously.
`` Do n't be such a baby. I'm not going to play with you if you're going to be a baby about it.''
`` I'm not being a baby.'' But the ladder looked rickety and I was n't sure I wa n't to climb it. It was so high after all. `` Why do you always get to be the pirate?''
`` Because I'm the oldest, that's why. Plus, I can light the cannon balls.'' He pulled out the lighter and flicked the flame on.
'Do n't do that, Joe.'' I pleaded.
`` I can do what I want.''
`` Everything's so dry, please do n't Joe.''
At the time he had shrugged, but he'd put the lighter back in the customary pocket and shrugged. `` Alright. But there's a door here. Do n't you want to see where it leads?''
He disappeared backwards for a moment and I heard the squeal of rusty hinges tearing back.
`` Whoa! Billy, you've *got* to see this!''
That was the first time we went through. The first time it had been cowboys in some Wild West town. They'd dressed and spoke just like in the pictures. They swaggered around and smoked cigars and drank whiskey. The horses flicked their tails and whinnied and the ladies all fanned themselves silly in the hot desert air. Only when there was a draw at high noon and I saw my first dead man, lying with his chest shot open in the street and the sand covered in blood, did I want to go home. That part was n't like the pictures at all. I turned around and buried my face in Joe's shirt.
`` You've got to keep this a secret, okay?'' He took me by the shoulders and shook me till my teeth rattled. `` You ca n't tell anyone this is here.''
I remember the day he left as clearly as it was yesterday, because it was the day I'd bought myself a plastic lighter for a nickel from a tiny store in town. It was blue and you could see the fluid inside it swilling around. It did n't look anywhere as nice as Joe's, but it was mine and I loved it.
`` That's just a cheap toy,'' he sniffed when he saw it. `` Bet you ca n't rig it.''
`` I probably can,'' I threw myself down on the pile of hay and held it up to the light. `` Let me just have a look.''
`` Bet you ca n't get it as big as this.'' Joe pulled out his, flicked the flame up.
`` Mine'll be bigger.'' I promised. `` Just you wait and see.''
`` Okay kiddo,'' he laughed, shoving the lighter back into his pocket. `` I'm gon na see what today's history class is. You wait here.''
He always went first nowadays - especially after we'd managed to walk onto a Civil War battlefield and I'd been clipped by a bullet. I told mother I'd fallen into a bramble bush and Joe had taken the blame. We were a bit more careful from then on.
I heard the door open and shut above me, but the lighter was consuming my attention. I had the flame, but rigging it - my fingers slipped and the hay caught immediately. I stamped, but it was catching and before I knew it, the flames were licking up the wooden walls and the ladder was on fire.
`` Joe! Joe!'' I screamed his name but no -
`` It's painful reliving it, Dad.'' I turned to the grey haired man beside me.
The burnt out remains of the barn, choked by weeds, lay around us. It was the twentieth anniversary of Joe's disappearance and my father had suggested the walk out to this field.
`` I know, Will. It's hard for me too,'' Dad's blind in one eye and he turned his head awkwardly to survey the barn. Only one wall remains now, curved at the top like a smoked-black tombstone.
`` I still feel like it's all my fault.''
Dad shuffled on his feet for a second, then began to rummage in his pockets.
`` It's not, Billy. It's really not.''
I looked down. In his hand sat a gold-plated lighter, skull etched on the side.
|
[ WP ] `` I told you not to do that ! '' ... `` Actually , you said 'do n't even think about it . ' So , I did n't really think about it . That kind of makes this your fault . ''
|
`` But why did you do it!?''
`` Come on. Seriously? When you see a big button like that, you have to push it. No thinking, just go.''
`` Do you not realize what you've just done?''
`` Of course not, I just told you I did n't think about it, just did.''
`` Oh God, oh God, we are so screwed! Why did you do it?''
`` Hey man it's not my job here and it if it was really so important, why not just say `` hey do n't touch that or I'll be fired or dead or screwed!'' Instead of being so cryptic.''
`` Damn, the boss just text me, he's coming up.''
`` I bet he's gon na be pissed. Well, i better get outa here and let you fix things.''
`` Just, just go, there is no fixing this.''
`` Sorry man, good luck.''
|
[ WP ] Two time travelers meet . One is a wizard trying out a new spell . The other is a scientist who created a machine .
|
So Agnieszka comes into my garage while I ’ m working on my time machine. ( Yeah, I know, okay…it ’ s just what it is… what can I say? ) She ’ s like, “ Hey, Suze, how ’ s the gizmo coming? ”
“ Uh, not so loud, Aga. ” She ’ s standing there her arms on her hips. She ’ s tall, much taller than me so she towers above me tossing her long blond hair back and smirking the way she does. “ What?! Doesn ’ t your mom know about the time machine? ”
I winced. “ Don ’ t call it that. Better to stick with ‘ gizmo. ’ ”
“ When do I get to go anywhere in it, Suzie? ”
“ Okay, ” I said, “ Get in. ” So we snuggled in together into the tiny cockpit of the thing. It ’ s sort of like a little golf cart but more enclosed and not so bulky and heavy. I set some dials. “ I hope this garage wasn ’ t buried under a mountain or something in the past, ” I said pushing the start button and then everything went black. And noiseless but quiet – if that ’ s even the right word – in a way that seemed to fill my head with a racket. Is this what they mean by ‘ white noise ’? In about half a minute though, we saw swirly lights and then everything started to come into focus. A lot like a dream – when everything seems to make sense even though it ’ s totally screwy.
And then there we were. The garage was gone of course. And we were in the woods. We struggled out of the little gizmo. There was a creek about five feet away. And a path that led away from the creek.
“ Shall we go this way? ” I asked Aga, pointing to the path.
She nodded and looked around. “ This place does seem familiar though. ”
“ That ’ s because it ’ s my backyard. ”
We walked about half a mile and then we were in the town. The town. I mean, like, my hometown only smaller and no cars and dirt streets. The street is narrow flanked on each side by a row of houses. Only one I recognize. It ’ s the county historical museum now of course. Two and half stories, about half a block wide. Nice.
A woman emerged from a doorway ahead of us dressed in a floor-length dress and a bonnet. “ We probably should have dressed for this, ” Aga said. Did I mention we were both wearing little shorts and I was in a tee-shirt and Aga in a halter top? “ I ’ m not even wearing a bra, ” Aga whispered.
“ Don ’ t worry, ” I told her: “ I don ’ t think bras have been invented yet. ”
“ That ’ s a relief. ”
Anyway, the woman walked past us, sort of looking us over.
“ I just got here, ” Aga told her. She does crack me up.
And then we saw him. The guy who was going to change our lives. ( Although I guess if you go back in time, whatever happens is going to change your life. )
He ’ s wearing like a long caftan and one of those round Serbian or whatever caps – red with a dangling tassel. He has a bit of a little mustache and goatee. He ’ s about late twenties or so. Tall. Handsome actually. And I could tell Aga was impressed too. He walks right up to us. He ’ s like, “ You two young ladies aren ’ t from here, I take it. ”
“ And you are? ” Aga retorts. This makes him laugh. A good sign, I think.
“ I just got here from somewhere else. And I expect you did too. ”
“ We ’ ve been here less than half an hour, ” Aga tells him.
“ Actually, I ’ ve lived here all my life, ” I told him, “ Just not now. ”
“ That ’ s what I suspected when I saw you, ” he said. “ Let ’ s go to that inn over there. We can have a bite to eat. ”
“ My mother ’ s serving dinner in a few minutes, ” I said.
Aga gave me a reproachful look. “ Yeah, Suze, in 2017! ”
I shrugged and we walked half a block up the street and walked into what looked like really a rather nice little inn/brewpub or what have you. We took seats at a table.
“ This is cozy, ” I said.
“ You have a bit of a British accent, I think, ” Aga told our companion.
“ I spent the sixties in London, ” he explained ( and he made quotation marks with his fingers when he said ‘ sixties ’ ), “ though I am originally from what you would call eastern Europe – in what is now known as the fourth century C.E. ”
I ’ m like, “ Wow! I ’ m Suzie, ” I said, “ And this is my best friend Agnieszka. ”
“ Yeah, my grandparents are from your neck of the woods, ” she told him.
He smiled and nodded. “ My name is Peabody. ” We both registered looks of astonishment. He grimaced. “ Okay, I made it up or rather copied it from an animated television show. ”
“ I could use a drink, ” I said, dryly ( ha ).
Aga looked around. “ Are they going to card us? ”
“ It ’ s sixteen ninety-nine, ” Peabody said. “ They don ’ t have rules yet. ”
So the lady came to our table and we all ordered beer.
“ So here ’ s the thing, ” Peabody said when our beers arrived and we toasted the luck of our meeting and took our first sips and Aga asked him what he was doing here in 1699, “ I have been traveling hither and yon… ” he paused.
“ For seventeen centuries, ” I interjected.
He laughed. “ Well, of course yes and no. I ’ m only 28. So the time flies, as it were. ”
Aga is gazing at him, rapt.
He goes on: “ I am what you call a wizard. And I have developed a spell to travel in time and space. I have been here three weeks. One of the things going on here, however, is that they are having a witch trial. Really I would like to just leave but I feel like I should save this poor young lady from the trial before I go. This place makes me nervous. Since I myself am a magician and these people execute magicians, I am rather disposed to make an exit as expeditiously as feasible. Now that you are here, perhaps you can be of assistance. ”
“ A witch trial?! ” I exclaim. “ Right here in River City? We will be glad to help. ” And Aga nods vigorously.
“ Tomorrow is the trial, ” Peabody tells us. “ First thing in the morning. Where are you staying? ”
I roll my eyes. “ I live down the street from here but the street hasn ’ t been made yet. ”
So Peabody arranged for us to stay at the house of a friend of his. A very nice lady named Agnes. “ That ’ s just like my name, ” Aga exclaimed when they were introduced. They seemed to hit it off right away. Also Agnes loaned us some clothes since we had nothing to wear but our scandalously revealing come-as-you-are stuff. We spent the evening sitting up with Agnes and talking about life in Pleasantville ( I made this name up ). I told her that I lived there but then I had to stammer around since she had lived there, like me, all her life but had never laid eyes on me before. Finally we realized that Peabody had already told her about time travel and then I could explain that I too was a time traveler, that I had lived my whole life in Pleasantville born and raised. We got along really well after that. She was very cool. She was also upset about the trail coming up the next day.
“ It is my earnest desire that you and my namesake will be able to assist in alleviating the danger that menaces poor dear Felicity on the morrow. ”
So the next morning we have beer for breakfast. ( I think I like the 17th century. ) And we go out into the street. Now there ’ s about a hundred people out there, presumably out for blood. Peabody comes up to us right away. “ Pleasant night? ” he asks.
I ’ m like, “ Yes. ” And my new friend Agnes takes my hand and squeezes it. “ Really, I ’ m glad to be here, ” I said. And Agnieszka sidles up to Peabody and sort of strokes his arm. Things are looking up.
“ What ’ s the plan, Mr. Peabody? ” Aga asks him.
“ If I can just get Ms. Felicity away from the crowd, perhaps I can cast a spell and take her away. Where can I go? ”
I tell him he can take her to my house, which after all, is just down the street. I give him the street coordinates and house number. “ It ’ s a two story, wooden house painted white, on High Street between Elm and Oak Avenues. You can ’ t miss it. ”
“ Your honor! ” Peabody exclaims, approaching the dais set up at one side of the town square ( right where the Dairy Queen is now ). “ I am representing Miss Felicity in this case. ” The surly crowd parts as our tall young hero strides towards the dais.
The judge, a dour looking old fart ( as you would expect ) looks down upon Peabody. “ And who, pray tell, art thou? ”
“ I am Mr. Peabody. And I represent Mistress Felicity in the case of the Crown versus Felicity Droughthaven. ”
“ The Court recognizes Mr. Peabody, ” intoned the old bugaboo.
Then, suddenly and rather astonishingly, Peabody raised his arms and exclaimed: “ Klaatu barada nikto! ” And in a twinkling, he and Ms. Felicity vanished. In a puff of smoke? Uh, I ’ m not sure, though it sort of seemed like that.
“ Where did they go? ” Agnes asked me.
“ To my house, ” I said, “ It ’ s just a couple blocks away. Let ’ s go. ” I took her by the hand and with Agnieszka following ran for the woods where my gizmo was parked. We jumped in, really a tight fit now but we managed and I pressed the buttons and in about 45 seconds, voila.
|
[ WP ] You 're addicted to getting cybernetic implants and modifications , and it 's becoming a problem .
|
`` What are you, the new retard model of surrobot!?'' exclaimed Thomas Johnson, shoving Jamie in the back of the head, `` What are you going to do? Gon na to call the administrator to come save you? Gon na cry like a little bitch?'' Thomas' face was crossed with a devilish grin, his nose bunched up, containing laughter.
`` Little Jamie T-t-timmens,'' Thomas' cried with laughter, `` so poor he has to manual plug-in to the teaching console, but it's not even helping him learn how to speak like a normal fucking person! Bahahahahaha.''
`` D-dom, pease shtop,'' Jamie could hardly get the sentence out of him before Thomas had punched him in the side of the ahead.
`` Sorry, I could n't understand you, could you try again?''
`` Pease sht-'' another swift punch to the side of the head. Jamie rushed both of his hand to meet his face, he held the side of his head tightly, trying not to cry, trying to refuse a victory to Thomas. The tears began to well in his eyes, lightly, but visible enough.
`` Bahahahahaha, fuckin' cry baby, look at this kid!''...
He began to cry.
- - -
Jamie was sitting down with his girlfriend Emma at a local plug-in cafe. They sat staring wide eyes on the comfortable couches, each with a cup of coffee on the table in front of him. They sat motionless as did most of the patrons in the cafe. Staring into space, staring into whichever VREnvironment they felt comfortable. Here in public they would be forced to use government issued and regulated avatars, Emma's avatar nonetheless looked as beautiful as her real life counterpart. He rounded face, with soft features, her copper hair curled down just below her shoulders. Jamie had felt so lucky meeting her, he had been so alone for all his life, they had already been together for almost 3 years when things began to get somewhat tense between them.
`` I want you to stop Jamie,'' Emma said, coolly, straightforward locking eyes with him, `` you ca n't keep going the way you are, we ca n't afford it, and to be honest I am beginning to think that you do n't even care how I feel about it.''
Jamie sat silently listening, his silence he hoped would gesture to her, his understanding and agreement. They had chosen a picnic setting, under the most beautiful apple tree he had ever seen, the sun was perfect and you could feel the warmth and the breeze... even better than if they had actually been sitting outside.
`` Before it was fine, getting a transmod is a perfectly normal thing to do, but you've already gotten 3 in just these past two weeks, I do n't even know what for!'' she tried to contain the sense of betrayal she had felt,'' No more, okay? You did n't need new arms, you definitely did n't need the enhanced vision.''
`` That's all, I promise.''
`` Do n't lie to me James,'' her face weakened, momentarily allowing him a glimpse of sadness, `` You told me the silver tongue body mod and the scalp and adjustable hair were all you needed.'' her avatar seemed frozen in it's place staring at him.
`` Can we unplug for a moment?'' she asked coyly
`` If that's what you want, of course,'' he quickly motioned for his ejection command. Before pulling the feed from behind his ear. The beautiful day had been overcome by the darkness of the cafe. He looked around briefly, seeing another couple in the corner at an L-couch, huddled close, staring into the feed. The only worker at the bar area, also staring, assisting customers in the VRE if they wanted to order another coffee, as well as monitoring data and information throughout the cafe area. At the edge of the place by the outside window a short young woman was sitting down, taking a sip of her drink before fussing around at the side of the still for her feed plug. He turned his eyes across the desk where Emma had just unplugged. Her face seemed contorted with hidden emotion.
`` You know I love you, you told me you were self conscious about the way you speak, and I know you've been dealing with a lot of body image issues,'' she said, sighing softly, `` but these new mods are different, please do n't get anymore, I love you... as you are.'' she scooted over to him quickly, wrapping her arms around him, her hand cradling his head, hugging him deeply. `` You know I love you right?''
`` I know, I know!'' Jamie whined out, his eyes flooding with tears suddenly, he could n't control his emotions running wild. Had even thought about why he had gotten those mods, he could never go back to the way he had been before. `` You know I'm trying, sometimes I just ca n't stop myself, I just do it. The thought never occurs to me that what I do could effect you, I'm so sorry Emma...''
`` It's okay... I need to go, will you still meet me later tonight for movie time?
`` Yes, I have some work to do, but I'll be there, absolutely,'' Jamie paused, swallowing quickly before grabbing her hand and planting a light kiss, holding her tightly and looking up at her. She let go a radiant smile. But her eyes... her eyes held something away from him, although he knew just by quickly studying the features his new eyes. She had been honest with her smile... but her eyes seemed sad.
`` I love you Jamie, I'll see you soon.''
`` Love you too!'' He called out, before sitting back down, he positioned himself comfortably in the couch, pulling the feed plug up to his ear and sliding it in. He floated in space, new messages, he calendar alerting him to a mod he had scheduled earlier in the week for a new set of lungs, the image of the alert, glowed for his attention. He hovered his hand over the cancellation button momentarily. Before sliding the message away. What would one more mod hurt? She would n't be able to see it anyways.
-- -
Jamie stood at the doorway for almost 5 minutes, standing out of the doors cover, he listened intently inside as his parents were laughing, his young sister was with them. Making a joke, helping them cook a turkey, walking in and out of the living room to watch television with their father. His dark endo-implant controlled the temperature of his body comfortably, and would have numbed any cut of the frigid air if he could feel it at all. His features were smooth, you could see his face clearly as it was always been. Fused to the body of this artificial skeleton, he looked as nothing but a shadow in the street. Finally he rang the doorbell.
`` I'll get it, I'll get it!...'' he could hear his father grumble, rushing from the couch and creaking his way down the stairs before opening the door. His brows furrowed under giant snow-white eyebrows, trying to focus to what was standing outside.'' Hello...?'' he asked quickly, as polite a tone he could muster.
`` Merry Christmas Father!'' Jamie said out loud, a smile forced smile pulling itself across his face.
`` Oh... Jamie, it's you...'' he said, looking out the door, and down either side of the street. He pushed his way out and closed the door quietly behind him.
`` Uh... may I come in?''
`` Jamie, I told you... do n't come here anymore. You're not my son.''
`` I am your son.''
`` You were my son Jamie, but you're just... something now.'' Jamie's father shook his head,'' I do n't know what the hell you are anymore, now please go...''
`` Please Dad...''
`` Do n't fucking'please dad' me, you did this to yourself, not me.''
`` But-''
`` I'm not wasting my Christmas talking to a talking cellphone that claims to be my son,'' he turned his back, setting a foot inside before turn his head back to Jamie, `` do n't come back here... Jamie or whatever you fucking call yourself. My son died a long time ago.'' he said softly, pulling himself inside the warmth of the house and heading back of the short flight of stairs to the old living room.
Jamie stood completely still. His face was not set to reveal his emotion and so he stared like a sentry momentarily. Inside reeling from the failed encounter. He could hear everything inside.
`` Who was it dad?''
`` Nothing, just some woman from the charity... you know how they are on Christmas''
Jamie remained at the door. He could not pull himself to leave the house. Despite not being able to go inside and see his family. He could still hear and even smell everything that was going on. He touched the door, feeling the vibrations of every footstep, the television, the oven humming. But he would n't leave. He stayed outside the house for the rest of the night, enjoying the family Christmas as much as he could, wishing he could see them all again. Feeling a small amount of relief that he could in some way experience this moment... even alone.
|
[ WP ] You 're a detective who has traveled back in time ... the date is the night your wife was killed . You want to stop it and find out who was the killer .
|
`` Let me make this clear Mr Davis, we can CCTV footage identifying you at the scene, your fingerprints on the murder weapon and a message from your wife identifying you as her murderer.''
`` That message was not written in my wife's handwriting. But yes, that is correct,'' he replied trying not to grind his teeth in frustration.
He had not asked for a lawyer. Perhaps it was the years of dealing with them on the other side of the table, perhaps it was because in his mind that's what guilty people did. He had nothing to hide and he did n't need some gimp in a suit to tell them he was innocent.
`` And you are still claiming not only to be not guilty, but according to you despite being less than 20 yards away you did n't hear or notice a thing until 2 hours later when you called the police, correct?''
This had to be some kind of a nightmare. He was the one who did the interrogating, not this foppish FBI prick in glasses who looked young enough to be his damn son.
`` I was asleep. I did not kill her.''
`` Yet you admit you were having marital issues?''
`` We were separated at the time.''
`` You should be aware, Mr Davis, that for serious charges like murder we are legally able to use the postcognition machine allowing us to verify exactly what happened that night. However in the event th-''
`` Believe it or not having worked here the past 30 years, I know the damn rules. If I'm guilty I pay for the professional exploration and I am liable for any damages. I get it. Now get out there and prove me innocent!''
He was starting to lose his temper. He was already on medication for his sky high blood pressure and this sure as hell was n't helping.
`` I have noted your choice. We shall detain you at this facility until your hearing where you should hear the results of the exploration along with a verdict and sentencing. Till then, Mr Davis.''
The man stood up and shuffled his papers together
`` Oh and it would be advised for you to at least get a lawyer for the hearing. The state-''
`` I wo n't need one. I'm innocent. That machine will prove it''
The man pushed his glasses back off his nose and smiled back at him
`` Of course, Mr Davis''
***
He was still reeling.
*Confirmed guilt*
He was still talking but he was barely listening
`` -uilty party is liable for the s-''
`` This is n't possible'' he said under his breath
`` This is n't possible''
The court heard him that time. A silence. He looked back at his family. The few that had stuck with him. The few that had believed in him. Some were already leaving. His 80 year old mother was still sat there though she refused to meet his eyes.
`` THIS IS N'T POSS-''
The guard grabbed him roughly around his neck and dragged him out towards the door. Jeers and applause from his wifes family members as he was pulled out.
***
`` Hello?''
He had been stitched up. He was sure of it. This was n't some horrific mistake or clerical error. This was some kind of FBI stitch up. His trial had gone straight to court in 3 days. Almost every time he had sent a case for investigation by the postcognition service himself it had taken at least two weeks. And ever since he'd left that court room all he could think of was the image of that agent smiling at him when he said he did n't need a lawyer.
`` Hello? Michael''
He looked up. A balding man was smiling down at him. He had n't spoken a word since the trial. It had been 2 days yet, he just wanted to be left to his thoughts.
`` Yeah?'' he glared at the man.
`` I am Dr Harrison, I'm a clinical psychologist. I was hoping we might be able to have a chat.''
`` I'm not really in a talkative mood, Doc''
`` I understand. However I'm not an ordinary psychologist, you might find my services useful. You still believe yourself to be innocent do you not?''
`` I do n't believe I'm innocent. I AM innocent''
I happen to be researching into certain criminal behaviours and might be able to help you prove your innocence.''
`` How?''
`` I can get video images shown from the postcognition centre I'm currently based in. We can go over frame by frame of what happened the night of your wife's death, however I like to be very upfront with my patients, I'm researching a delusional exposure therapy treatment. However that does not mean, I do n't believe you and it does n't mean, I wo n't help you thoroughly explore the postcognition footage until you are satisfied in yourself about exactly what happened. I will also offer treatment afterwards should you desire it.''
***
To be continued
|
[ WP ] You have discovered a terrible secret that forces you to live on the run . In order to save humanity you must travel through space and time while avoiding being found by the most dangerous people in the universe . Your name is Waldo .
|
It was never my intention to encounter what I saw. I must have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Never in my life had I even imagined what I saw. I knew that the time could be bent, manipulated. It had been explained by Einstein, but never would I believe that it was being manipulated like this. We were all slaves to an order that extended through time. No one knew that it existed because... it did n't. At least not yet.
On my way home on a dark and rainy evening, April 4, 1941, I saw something I should not have seen. I do not know why I looked that way but I just felt a strong attraction to look there. The windows were tinted and I could barely see into the car, but when he lit his cigarette, from the inside, his face lit up and I knew then that I saw something that I was not supposed to have seen. The car stopped, and I knew, I just knew that something was not right. The man I saw had an eye so red that I first thought my mind was playing with me. I did not stop to find out what had happened. I ran as fast as I could. The rain whipped my eyes and I could barely see, but I could make out the driver who ran angrily after me. He yelled in German and asked me to stop but I did not dare to do so. Eventually I managed to get rid of him. I breathed heavily and kept off the streets. If I happened to see the black car with an eagle ornament on the hood I knew I would be in danger. The man's face was burned into my brain. A red mechanical eye. Half the side of his face scorched. Long black bangs across his healthy side of the face. I had never seen anything like this before. He looked really out of place in our time. I knew something was strange about all of this. I could hardly sleep. Every thought I had danced quickly over to the image of his face. The rain whipped at my thin windows. I stared up at the ceiling, hoping that I was not in any danger. That he would not find me. The door burst open and I jumped out of fear. German soldiers ran into my little room and took me. I was interrogated all night.
`` What did you see?!'' they shouted in German and hit me.
`` I saw nothing!'' I shouted with tears in his eyes. `` What should I have seen?'' I lied but deep down his face was still as clear in my head. They let me go but I could feel that the whole thing was not over yet. Every time I turned around, there was a man in a heavy coat, standing in the rain, looking at me. They knew what I had seen but I could n't tell anyone. Who would believe me? I did not care much about it to be honest. I quickly forgot about it and went on with my life as normal. Had I never come across the picture in the newspaper I would have still been living my normal life as a painter.
`` Can we think for ourselves or we are led astray by corrupt men?'' was the headline. On the picture was the black car. I recognized it immediately. The eagle on the hood gave it away. On the bottom of the page was the name of the journalist who had written the article. `` Sandra Heinstedt.'' The man in the coat was gone but after asking around about Sandra, I noticed him again. He followed me again. Did he want to be discovered, or was he just careless? Maybe he just wanted to show me that they can see me, that they watch over me. Eventually, I got hold of her address. A bartender had been been kind enough to write it on a napkin in exchange for a hefty tip on the drink I got. Why did I always do this? Put myself in trouble? Do I regret it now? Perhaps. If you want to know that everything you've ever believed is a lie, then... But I went to her apartment. The whole building was ruffled, and the heavy rain had crushed everything that could not sustain it. I stepped into the stairwell and looked at my napkin, which was now dripping wet. `` Third floor, apt 23.'' I turned to see the man if the coat was nearby. I could see him standing behind a corner and smoking a cigarette. `` I'll be quick.'' I thought, and ran up the stairs to the third floor. It thundered and lit up the door. The name `` Heinstedt.'' hung loosely at one end, as if someone had slammed the door hard. I corrected the name but it fell back again. I then knocked three times but no one answered. `` Sandra!?'' I shouted from the other side of the door. Nothing happened. I grabbed the door handle, and to my surprise, the door was unlocked. Carefully I opened the door and looked into the apartment. Everything seemed to be in order except for Sandra's dead body hanging from the ceiling. It thundered and her pale face lit up. She stared him straight in the eyes. Then Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was the man in the coat. His worn face looked me straight in the eye. He pushed me into the apartment with a gun pointed straight at me. He smelled of rain and cigarettes. `` S-sorry...'' I stuttered in horror.
`` Shut up!'' he said in German. `` It was you who murdered her. I've investigated her suicide and I knew that the killer would show up eventually.''
He cocked the gun and now aimed with one eye. I did not understand at all what he was talking about. He had followed me for several weeks before Sandra even wrote the article. I did not know what to say.
`` Goodbye.'' he said.
`` The man with the red eye!'' I screamed out in panic. He immediately opened his closed eye and looked at me. I knew it would work!
I could write more If any one wants it. I've accidentally built an entire story out this prompt!?
|
[ WP ] Two alien planets are at war with each other , but they 're so far away that by the time a battle fleet arrives at the other planet the fleet is already severely outdated .
|
`` What the hell.'' The captain muttered as he took in the unholy sight of the enemy garrison fleet. They looked sleek, deadly, and definitely not friendly.
`` What do we do?'' The navigator asked, the panic creeping into his voice.
`` Uh...'' The captain stammered. In thirty years, he has never been in a situation quite like this. `` Order the fleet to bring out the big guns. We do n't have many shells, so make every shot -''
The enemy fleet attacked.
Plasma flowed out from the cannons, almost fluid like a liquid in its motions. The captain could only sign as the thousands of streaks of plasma raced towards their fleet, each one aimed for a ship.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
In the other fleet's flagship, the crew roared in victory as the invasion force was wiped out.
The captain yelled above everyone else. `` Today, my friends, is the day we take the fight to them!''
The crew once again screamed in response and the ships took off for the distant planet that their rivals had lived on for the last millions of years.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
`` Holy shit.'' The son of the son of the son of the son of the son of the captain muttered as he took in the sight of the fleet in front of him. `` This is not going to end well.''
They fired first. Thousands of tendrils of plasma arced towards their opponents, and each and every single one of them disappearing into nothingness as they touched the anti-matter shields.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
The dark matter shields were easily broken and penetrated by the hyperspace missile launchers and the fleet was torn to pieces, like its predecessor.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
The hyperspace drive did nothing to help them to defend against a fleet with teleportation capabilities.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
Even teleportation did n't work quite so well against black holes.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
But one tends to over look that when confronted with nigh-omnipotent AIs integrated into battleships.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
In the end, there was nothing. Both planets perished. But a small number did survive, to tell the tale, to pass down the hate, to teach about the lost science.
At long last, one single ship, packed to the brim with cannons that fired a prototype weapon known as bullets, began its long journey towards the other planet. To find out if they lived, to find out if they can be destroyed once and for all.
Two hundred years later, two ships came back, both from the opposing faction, and boasted a fearsome weapon known as rockets.
For the bystanders, it was quite clear that they were stuck in an endless loop of doom. But to them, it's nothing more than revenge, nothing more than some empty reasons to kill the others.
Nothing more than tradition, that has happened over and over again...
|
[ WP ] You die and are informed you 'll restart your life exactly as it was when you turned 6 . All your memories are as they were the moment you died , everything else resets . You are told you are the only one like this .
|
Here I am, sitting on the edge of my bed. The sweating has started. The shaking will soon come.
I am Type 1 Diabetic, and tired of my life. I have a little pump connected to my body, and it gives me life saving insulin.
But I am done. Tired. There is so much pain. So much heartache. I have been so very unlucky all of my life.
I have pumped all the insulin that I can into the fat on my belly. It was n't easy. The little machine caps out at 25 units, so I've had to do it a bunch of times.
So tired now... I think I will just lie down... So... Sleepy...
And I sit bolt upright. The bed I am in is huge, two twins pushed together. I am in a bedroom I have not seen in 40 years. What the actual f...
`` Sean??'' I hear from the bottom of the stairs. `` Honey it's time to get up!''
Is that my mother? She has been dead for 12 years!
I fall out of bed, misjudging how tall it is, and how short I have become. I walk out of my room and stand at the top of the stairs.
`` Wash up, Honey. You've a big day!'' she says with a wave and a wink.
In the bathroom at the end of the hall is a mirror. I stand on the little crate there just for me, to look at my 6-year-old self.
I am not alone in my reflection. There is *something* just behind my left shoulder. A light? A shadow? I really can not focus on it. But it speaks.
`` Sean,'' it says slowly, quietly, `` You have been given a second chance! You must use all of your memories to make this world a better place! Take all of your knowledge and make things better!''
Slowly as it fades, I whisper, `` But I've worked so hard to forget. Everything.''
|
[ WP ] Describe the thoughts of Mother Earth ( or Nature ) relating to mankind .
|
*Yaaaawn*
Nature had just woken up from another of his long sleeps. Some of the others berated him for sleeping so much, but what else had he to do? The One had given him a job that could take care of itself: Look after the balance. Well the thing about the balance is that it tended to stay balanced. Sure he had to poke his head in and check up on things from time to time but for the most part, there was little that needed intervention.
Or at least that used to be the case. These new ones that the One dreamed up were quite irksome. Nature was used to getting a good millennium nap in between his checks but the humans seemed bound and determined to keep him up. It seemed every time he turned around, they had found some new way to make his job more complicated.
Now every new creation adds to the balance, that was the beauty of the One's plannings. Everything put into the world had a place, and it was Nature's job to find it for them. But Humans? They fit everywhere it seemed and Nature had to constantly tend their spread over the facets of creation. The most confounding part was the humans seemed to be able to create things of their own, most of which tended to be flawed, each of which Nature had to figure into everything. It seemed there were no ends to the headaches these humans would cause.
But for all their bumbling around in the dark, Nature could n't help but find them fascinating. No other piece of the balance could fit so perfectly yet stick out so obtusely. They were a blessing at their height and a nuisance at their depth, but they were a challenge the like of which Nature had never seen. And despite what the others thought, he loved a good challenge.
|
[ FF ] Write a story about a person late for work as quickly as you can .
|
**Posting from smartphone for added effect**
Why is it so bright outside? The clock said 6:30 a second Avon ah crap! It's 7:54! I have to be at work in 6 minutes. It's a 49 minute commute! =. Shit. Can I brush my teeth? Ewww. Morning breath. My hair is messed up. I'll comb it with my fingersm.good enough. find a shirt. Got a shirt. Pants from yesterdaym. Fuck whee are the socks. They do n't match. Whatever. Tie the shoes. Wallet. Phone. Keys. Lights off. Thermostat up. Kiss the cat goodbye. Fuck I'm late. Get in the car. Station 101.1. Drive to main road. Of course there is traffic. I'm supposed to be there!! Will the boss call my cell? Comin! 40 mins late. Park the car. Honk honk. Swiftly walk. Woman in front of me. She's cute. Do n't be a creep. Elevator was on the top floor. Give me a break. Comoooon. Get in. Floor 6. Ding ding. Walk into work.
`` Good Morning!''
`` Morning.''
Run to my desk. Boot it up. Try to blend in. Yeah I've been here a while.... Yup.
*cough*
|
[ WP ] A pair of very successful ghost hunters has been hired to help an elderly couple get rid of a poltergeist . The hunters slowly start to realize the ghost has a very good reason to haunt the old folks .
|
`` My first visit to the Smith's old town house took me by suprise. You see, I'm... *sigh*... I'm a bit of a freud. There, I said it. But you wo n't tell anyone, right?
HEY! Another whiskey on the rocks. And for you? Vodka and coke? Really? Well whatever floats your boat. You hear that bar man? Good.
Where was I? Oh yeah, so I'm not exactly what I appear to be on the TV show. You see, on Ghost Grabbers we find somewhere that *looks* like it could be haunted, but it never is. You know why? Cause ghosts ai n't real! Or so I thought.
We would usually get a posh family, or a hotel owner or whatever, call us up and ask for our help. The more dramatic the building they owned, the better for our show. Murder happened there in the past? Great! Massacre by a cult? Even better!
Usually they called us for help'cause things were moving around the place or simply'disappearing'.
HEY! Buddy, you forgot the ice.
Well, our hidden cameras often caught a member of staff stealing stock, which explained the vanishing. Banging noises were nearly always a handsome waiter sleeping with the owners wife. But of course, for tv, we would play it off as spectral phenomena.
So the Smith's lived in an old mansion like house. It was originally built by the owner of a famous shoe factory. It was a huge sprawling affair out in the country. Two stories, a huge cellar, attic and acres of grounds. It was a bit run down as they no longer had the money for up keep that the place deserved.
They had two children who are grown up and lived abroad. There is a part time gardener and a cleaner who comes in twice a week.
So the Smith's called our team because of a knocking sound that came during the night.
*Bang, Bang, Bang. *
You look uneasy buddy. Relax. For now.
Mr Smith is about 70, but he crept out of bed and followed the knocking sound. It came from the attic. As he walked up the stairs the noise got louder and louder.
*bang* **bang**
He followed it all they way up to the attic and then followed it further still, all the way to a solid brick wall right in the corner. Mr Smith leaned forward and touched the wall wih his finger - and as soon as his skin touched the brick, the noise stopped.
He went back to bed, putting the noise down to water running through old pipes. But the next night it happened again. The noise led him back to the brick wall. He touched it... and silence! Every night there was a knocking, and every night when he touched the brick wall it stopped. Both he and his wife started to feel uneasy and swore to feeling a presence.
That's when they called us.
-- -- -
End of part 1
|
[ WP ] Make up a country and insert into the world
|
Welcome to the Republic of Sealand. Nobody expected this back in the early 2000's but the growth of the principality of Sealand is n't something to mock.
What seems like overnight, the small self-proclaimed country became one of the biggest instigators of sea trade and piracy.
Backed by the Somalian terror groups which have taken over the coastal regions of norway, and funded by the Russians, Sealand's underground navy all but controls the international waters within a 100 mile radius.
While the Somalian pirates and the Sealand government is highly denied by officials, but everyone knows the truth. The simple fact of increased pirate activity involving heavily armed Somalian pirates, as well as an unprecedented growth in economic prosperity. Sadly enough, in this situation, correlation does imply causation.
Because of the lack of hard evidence, the UN still refuses to act due to Sealand's plea of strict neutrality and lack of an official military.
Now due to economic growth and now uncontested waters, sealand has artificially increased its territory by over 6 miles with construction of the seascape of the North Sea, with concrete platforms and floating structures.
Sealand, being in the center of the North Sea has lead to a reliance on foreign resources such as food. Because of this Sealand has resorted to deep sea mining for resources, in turn, kick starting their metal, chemical, medical, and electronic engineering. This has also increased our deep sea exploration capabilities, but has lead to a corruption of surrounding water with mining chemicals and gases released from the mantle.
-- -- -- -- -- --
Teacher yelled at me for being on phone, will finish later
|
( WP ) She clenched his hand , `` Dreams will come to those who wait , but nightmares are never late . ''
|
Dreams. I wish I did n't have them. All they've ever been is a momentary escape from the horrors that I've wrought, a fleeting glimpse at what might have been if I had n't done what I did. I lie awake and try to keep my eyes from closing, but it never works. My eyelids lose the fight against gravity and drift shut, and off to dreamland I go.
The cast is always the same and the plot is never altered. The faces change, the names are different, but really it's always the same people doing the same things. I watch, detached from the events, as the dream people go about their dream lives and ignore me. They're happy in my dreams, but I know they'll never truly be happy again. I know that no matter how much they smile and laugh and dance, they wo n't be doing that when I wake up.
Shall I introduce the characters in my nightly show? I think perhaps I should.
There's the little girl, playing on the swing set. She was the first. I was sloppy and she was found by a jogger the next morning. In my dream she's quickly replaced by the cellist on the street corner. I was hunting for someone with a lower profile, but I could n't resist. It took police three weeks to find her, but I've listened to her play every night for twenty years now. Her music sets the tone for the dancing couple, two teenagers professing their teenage love for each other with teenage clumsiness and teenage charm. They never did find all the pieces.
Then the scene shifts and the rain begins to fall. I see the co-ed taking a midnight stroll through the park and for the life of me I ca n't remember where I hid her. Maybe someone will find her someday. She passes by and the protester comes into my view. She's the one who got me caught, the one who got away before I was finished. She does n't belong in this dream, she is n't waiting for me like the others. I hate her, but I love her. She's the reason the dream is about to end, for better or worse.
It's time. I wake up and they let me shave and bring me the meal I requested. They lead me from my cell and down the hall to the room where the dream will finally die. I do n't resist as they strap me into the chair. There's an alcohol swab, which seems ridiculous. They ask if I have anything to say.
Yes. The dream is over. Let the nightmare begin, send me down to meet them all again. I know they're waiting for me, I'd hate to be late.
There are needles. I feel them but I'm not afraid. I feel...
|
[ WP ] [ CW ] Write a story that either begins or ends with the line : `` It was such a peaceful time and yet , I felt compelled to ruin it . ''
|
I have spent seven years in peace. Tending my garden, watching my chickens and harvesting their eggs, and enjoying the quiet of my little plot of land. It was truly the peace I had sought so long while in my old life of tumultuous court life.
Seven long years of quiet, uneventful life. No barbarians hunting down my lieutenants, no assassins in the shadows, not even a stray arrow landing in my radish patch.
No, no, no, no, I'm in the apex of peace and prosperity, with not a care in the world. No more Imperial messengers to bother me with the unfortunate business across the Danube, no more Persian diplomats with news of war coming from beyond the Tigris. I've been free to nurture my cabbages, cull my sprouts, and pluck my beans without the call of war to take me away.
I had n't even thought of mounting Euphemines, the old war-horse, and riding off to join the Imperial procession bound for Ctesiphon when Julian determined it best to conquer. Nor had I entertained the prospect of donning my old armor when Valentinian marched against the Gurthungii across the Danube. I did n't even draw my sword with a sigh of longing at the word of Valerian marching against Constance in Gaul!
Not a single event drew me from my long sought after peace and cabbages... until the damnable intrigue of the one thing I had utterly lacked while claiming reign as Augustus of the Imperium; Utter lack of conflict within the Imperial court, east or west.
The Imperial messenger send from Nicomedia had claimed the Imperium had n't seen such peace since Augustus himself. And before his unfortunate and inexplicable death in my cabbage patch, I swore he claimed that even Caesar would have been awed at the sheer span of prosperity and cooperation across the lands of the Eternal City.
My contemporaries had lacked the ability to profligate such peace, and the messenger had lacked the relevant knowledge to know he claimed I had lacked the disposition to proceed along such a peaceful path. Me! Rightful Emperor of the Eternal Empire!
It was such a peaceful time, and yet I felt compelled to ruin it.
|
[ IP ] `` Decoy '' by Simon Stålenhag ( xpost from /r/Art )
|
`` So they like light...'' The first one said, with worry in his voice and a flair in his hand.
`` No, duh. Why do ya think you're holding a flair out? These things are like cats.'' The Second one replied.
Both were as uneased as the rusty car they rode in. They had never done this before; the stories that were passed down were their only guide. Apparently, a bunch of rebels had done this in the past. Because the first of the two was a `` rebel'' in his own sense, he decided that they would try this. For shits and giggles, of course.
The first one threw down his foot on the pedal, and the rusty war machine that was in fact a 1982 dodge lurched forward with the speed much like a slug. The car nears the giant metal beast that they had attracted. With a count of three, The Second one throws something out at the robot: a grappling hook.
In an instant, the car begins to go around in circles. Not because of a popped tire, rather that the grappling hook has caught on to the unsuspecting robot. They travel around and around in closing circles, creating smaller and smaller donuts.
Until, finally,
The robot drops like a rock. Rather unceremoniously, it seems.
The First one is thinking how amazing that was. ``'Droid tipping'', he calls it.
The Second one is cleaning up a throw up stain from the back of the car.
|
[ WP ] The reflection of the stars in the ocean become more than that as our small ferry descends through the gate . The ocean 's sounds dissappear before the endless silence of space .
|
21st June, 2071.
Day 13 of the Southern expedition.
The day it appeared.
We call it The Gate, because that's what it looks like. A giant gate. This colossal structure just popped up out of thin air overnight. Standing 150 meters tall and 50 meters wide, in the middle of the ocean with nothing but ice for miles around it. Its gossamer surface shimmering under the night sky like a wall of Aurorae. We're sending out a scouting party to get a closer look. A team of experts from WSA - World Space Agency should be arriving soon.
23rd June, 2071.
Day 15 of the Southern expedition.
We've been analyzing the Gate for two days now. Reports have confirmed it. It appears to be a wormhole or portal of sorts. We do not know where it will end up. It could be a couple miles from here or maybe on the other side of the galaxy. There's no way to know till we've gone through it. We're preparing to send an unmanned probe through the gate today.
24th June, 2071.
Day 16 of the Southern expedition.
The unmanned probe mission was a success. We managed to collect video footage of what lies beyond the Gate. It appears to open up near a rocky planet at roughly the distance that the moon orbits the Earth. The planet has a purple colored surface with grooves and ridges zigzagging across it. Spectroscopic analysis reveals it has an atmosphere with similar composition to that of Earth's, but with a higher oxygen content at 31 %. The planet has huge storm systems near its poles like that found on the gas giants in our solar system.
We've been conducting further tests on the Gate related to its stability. The Gate must be powered by a tremendous power source to be able to keep it open for this long. It shows no signs of decay as of yet. The World Council has approved of a manned mission to enter the wormhole and explore the planet. We have begun preparations and have scheduled departure 3 days from now.
27th June, 2071.
Day 19 of the Southern expedition.
The finals checks of the SEU - Standard Exploratory Unit, used in the manned missions to Titan and Europa, have been completed. All supplies have been transferred to the SEU. The WSA have flown in their mobile base to act as mission control. Departure in T-minus 30 minutes. We shall begin the boarding procedure now.
As we approach the SEU, I stop to take in the magnificent view. The cold, clear Antarctic skies are filled with stars hanging like diamonds. The oceans are calm tonight and I hear the gentle lapping sounds of the waves. The Southern Lights perform their dance of colors in the skies above and the dark waters below serve only to double the scenic beauty of it all. In the middle of it all, stands the Gate, looming over everything in sight, making us humans and our machines seem like little toys on the beach.
T-minus 3 minutes to departure. Mission control gives us the A-okay to proceed. We fire up the EM drive and inch slowly towards the Gate. It looks more stunning the closer you get to it. Its surface a myriad of mesmerizing colors. I look out the window to my left and see the Director of the WSA standing on the edge of the ice shelf, waving at us. `` Good Luck'' she says over the noise of the ocean through comm network. The final countdown begins.
T-minus Five.
Four.
Three.
We steadily increase the power to the engines.
Two.
One.
A brilliant flash of light blinds us as we pass through the Gate. The comms go dead. All that remains is the eerie silence of space. In front of us lies a ball of purple. We spot a bright light on the surface of the planet. Shining like a beacon. We home in on it and descend. As we approach the surface, the lights resolve into a wide circle. They seem to be more Gates arranged in a circle. In the center, lies a massive circular platform with patterns etched on its surface. We land the SEU right outside the circle of Gates and suit up to go outside.
In the center of the platform, we find what seems to be like a control panel. I touch the panel and it lights up, a holographic message floating in front of us.
*We have been watching humankind since its beginning. We have seen you rise and fall. We have seen you at war and we have seen you rebuild. After long last, you have now learned to live in harmony with nature. We believe you are finally ready. Finally worthy. Accept our gift and travel to the stars. *
*P.S. - Instruction manuals in the compartment underneath. *
*P.P.S. - Extra batteries not included. *
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.