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[ WP ] Instead of Oceans , they are all big forests , that gets taller and darker instead of deeper , with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest . A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench
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The conquistador stopped in his tracks. Before him, the vast endless forest lay before him.
He paused for a breath, as if he was taking a plunge. This was it. There was no turning back now. From here on, the only way was down.
The conquistador, walked along the tight trodden path down a steep decline. Behind him was a small 20-man company of lightly armoured soldiers, carefully following his every step.
Around them, the forest was thick and impenetrable – the path being the welcome exception. All around the men were sounds of life – birds singing, rustle of leaves blowing in the wind. The searing sun illuminated their path between the sparse trees.
To the uninitiated, the forest seemed like any normal one. Yet the ominous nature of it was not lost on any of the travelers.
The conquistador, Ferdinand Pizarro, knew what the maps had labeled this forest as: The Great Forest. This was the great uncharted territory. Nothing was shown here on the maps but it ‘ s outline.
No one had ever traveled more than a few days down. No one – until, hopefully, now. The secrets of the forest, and hopefully vast riches, would finally come to bear.
But it wasn ‘ t it ‘ s secrets that worried him.
He knew what local village called it: The Void. It was an unholy place. For centuries it was strictly forbidden to travel even to the border of the forest at nightfall. Those who did, often told stories of unusual encounters with terrible creatures with many legs or several eyes.
Those who dared to even venture into the forest never ventured particularly deep – and of those who did, if they came back at all, seemingly lost their mind.
Every villager knew countless stories of the sights those poor people claim to have witnessed: strange beasts flying in the air, and a darkness that made the night sky seem like a welcome sun, or terrible growling sounds emanating from deep within.
Ferdinand took off his helmet and put it into the carriage; the sweat was piling up. He himself was no stranger to travel. After all, it was him who was personally selected by the Queen to lead this mission. The Queen had heard of other heads of state starting to explore their nearby forests, each as unexplored as the last. Some went disastrously, with the mission never to be seen again. But some, particularly the short ones, were successful beyond their wildest dreams, even finding new lands on the other side.
It was easy to select Ferdinand – a world traveler, a veteran of war, and a renowned figure in the whole of Spain.
His skills were needed to the utmost now, however. God may have helped him fight against his human enemies, but what of the foe who is unknown, unpredictable, even incomprehensible? How will the almighty protect him against such a monster? He prayed that he may escape this trial alive, yet quitting was not an option.
The hours passed. The men, loyal to him, showed no signs of weariness.
However, the ground had quickly became harsher. The green forest growth was now few and far between. Ferdinand could now see between the trees, and at certain angles eve somewhat far ahead.
However, darkness was creeping in.
The tree stems had grown larger, supporting the mostly naked stems, who reached hundreds of metres into the air, ending in a small, green, glittery collection of leaves high above. Some sunbeams managed to break in down below, further accentuating the dim space the mission was now in.
Suddenly, Ferdinand stopped dead in his tracks and stared ahead of him.
„Men, stop! “. The sound of the horse ‘ s clattering and the men ‘ s sporadic chatter died down.
„Silence! “. The forest had now died down to the point that there was absolute silence, outside of faint bird songs in the skies above them.
„What is the matter, sir? “ A man dressed similarly to Ferdinand, but with a lower ranking insignia, walked up to him.
„I could swear I heard a voice in the distance. “
„That ‘ s impossible, sir. No one is here but us. “ Christopher, Ferdinand ‘ s right hand, skimmed the area in front of him.
Suddenly, he heard it too. A faint call in the distance before them: „Help! Please! “
Ferdinand sprints ahead. Christopher follows him, telling the men: „Onwards, quickly! “
However, as Christopher saw Ferdinand running far ahead of him, he couldn ‘ t help but to suspect something strange about the voice. He saw the pitch-black darkness in the distance and felt an unease he thought long forgotten.
-- -- -
Thanks for reading! Please upvote this post to let me know if you want another part: )
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[ WP ] A group of aliens tries ketchup for the first time .
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Grace slammed the bottle down on the table. “ Bam, ” she announced.
Areeise blinked her big, dark eyes. She reached out a finger to prod the plastic container. It wobbled slightly, but didn ’ t fall over. “ What is it? ” she finally asked.
“ You said you wanted to learn more about Earth culture, ” Grace said with a broad grin. “ You can ’ t get more basic than this. ”
Zeno looked at her nails and shook her head theatrically. “ All the stuff you could have brought with you and this is what you picked? ”
“ It is kind of a weird choice, ” Fate said, looking up at her sister.
“ Look, ” Grace sighed and snatched up the condiment again. “ Food is important, right? It ’ s like a whole cultural thing. And nothing else I could think of would have made the trip. I hope it ’ s still good. ” She screwed open the top with a loud *pop* and sniffed at the opening. “ I think it ’ s still good. ”
“ It is food? ” Areeise said cautiously. “ It does not look like food. ”
“ It ’ s not food, rezza, it ’ s ketchup, ” Grace said. She suddenly grabbed Areeise ’ s dark hand and unceremoniously squirted a drop into her finger. “ You put it on stuff to make it taste better. ”
“ It ’ s a condiment, ” Fate offered.
Areeise raised her hand to her mouth experimentally and lapped at the red drop with her little gray tongue. She immediately made a face. “ It ’ s sweet, ” she exclaimed in surprise.
“ Oh yeah, it ’ s loaded with sugar, ” Grace laughed, turning a chair backward and straddling it.
Areeise ’ s brow furrowed. “ You pulp the tomato fruit, mix it with much sugar, and put it atop other foods? ” she asked slowly.
“ That ’ s about it, ” Grace said. “ Fries, hot dogs, meatloaf, all sorts of stuff. ”
“ Your traditions are strange, ” Areeise said. It was a common sentiment from her. She looked from her bowl to the ketchup bottle and back again. “ Would you put it atop this? ” she asked, gesturing to the *nilan kef*.
Grace shrugged. “ Probably. I mean, there ’ s not much you *shouldn ’ t* put it on. ”
The qrin looked at Grace skeptically, then upturned the bottle over her bowl. She stirred in the sweet puree into the meat gravy, then gathered up half a spoonful and tasted in apprehensively. She blinked thoughtfully, then went back for more.
Zeno leaned forward and grinned. “ Hey Mikey, I think she likes it. ”
Areeise said nothing until the entire bowl of *nilan* was gone. She pushed the bowl away and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “ I shall approve of your strange human tradition, ” she said haughtily with a barely suppressed smile. “ This one time, Grace Evangel. ”
“ You know you love me, rezza, ” Grace laughed and gathered up the flatware. “ I ’ ll get something really bonzo for you next time, you wait. ”
Areeise laughed behind her hand. “ I look forward to it. ”
****
*Other things can be found at /r/thewriteraleph*
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[ WP ] The unluckiest person on the planet is completely oblivious to the fact that they are unlucky , and instead thinks of him/herself as the luckiest person on the planet .
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He sat in the wheelchair, crippled by his disease. Only twenty-six, he never knew the `` normal'' life, where families would go to the movies together, take walks in the park, and holding hands with their significant others. Instead, disease crippled his muscles and bones -- his muscles randomly twitching and twisting, and his hands contorted from rheumatoid arthritis.
He breathed deeply through the paper mask that saved his lungs from the world around him, as he sighed with relief.
`` Hey there, ol' fella,'' he said through his tremoring voice. `` Long time no see.''
As with the day before, and the day before that, the small headstone did n't respond, but he knew he was listening. `` How is life up there?''
Silence.
`` Is Anna up there with you?''
The picture of his sister, the only family he knew, lay crinkled in his shaky hand.
He sat in silence under the shade of the tree for ten minutes before pushing the joystick, and turning back to the shelter that let him stay.
Not a single moment of his life was normal, but he once had a dog and a sister, and that was enough for him.
-- -- -- --
*Inspired by real life. *
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[ WP ] Companies offer grant money to biologists , so that when they discover a new species , they 'll name it after their products .
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`` And today,''
the lecturer says into the microphone with excitement. At this time of day, the lecture would normally be filled with students, but today was special. A group of scientists have ventured into the Amazon in search of new species. It was more difficult than imagined. Most organisms found were closely enough related to something else already known that they could produce viable and fertile offspring, meaning they were of the same species. There had only been one new species of beatle found. The first half hour of the speech had been about the arduous journey the scientists had taken through the Amazon. But now the lead scientist was about to reveal their find.
`` I would like to present, the Starbucks Beatle''
There was polite clapping as the Slide show behind the stage switched slides. A hideous beatle was shown. Some of the reporters checked their watches. The team of scientist launched into a story of how they had found and verified the beatle as a new species. This was getting to be a long presentation. A few more people checked their watches. Most people here did n't care about the whole exploration of the Amazon, they were on their lunch break.
`` And finally, a thank you to our sponsors, Starbucks''
Everyone filed out, greedily grabbing for the free Starbucks coffee that was to be given out at the end of the presentation, their lunch brakes would end soon and they needed to get back to work.
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[ WP ] Make the must mundane item you can think of the Ultimate Symbol of Revolution
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There he sat upon a throne of refined steel and iron, our new leader, the one whom many called `` The Betrayed One.'' The fire in his eyes burned intensely, scorching any thoughts of dissent among us; there was no way we were backing down now, not without the passing of his harsh judgement upon us. This war we fought, it never was one for cowards. No, those few became examples of what we ought *not* to do, as their bodies were displayed openly on wooden stakes. Betraying The Betrayed. Who would've thought to do such an ironic injustice?
He began to speak in that commanding baritone voice he possessed. He said, `` The time has come! Now we make our final stand, against those who did not give us what we deserved, against those corporate *bigots* that have taken away every dollar in our pockets, only to line their own; now, my friends, we fight for FREEDOM!''
The words, how they always excited the lot of us! We shouted and screamed for him, for revolution! But then, it became more than a rallying speech, for he pulled it out... The Crumbs of Injustice.
The Crumbs, in their baggie of plastic to preserve themselves, may have only appeared to be the mere leftovers of a tube of Pringles, but they meant much more than that. They became our call to action. Like the Betrayed One, we too had found this as a symbol of capitalist greed. How dare they deny us that last chip! How dare they do this to us! No, we *had* to fight back! For what else is there to do to show them how we feel, other than violence? Nothing. Nothing at all.
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[ WP ] You visit a mystic who can tell with 100 % accuracy if you 're in the first or second half of your life . When you walk in , her crystal ball explodes .
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`` AH!'' I jumped back and shielded my face. `` Do n't worry hun it was just my crack pipe, happens all da time'' the old woman smiled and turned to face a box on the floor. She produced a new pipe and a bulging Ziplock bag. She placed a lighter on the table. `` Wan na see ya future?''
I quickly scanned the room. The walls were bare except for a single frame that held a poorly torn calendar page with *March* in the corner. The single window was covered in torn tin foil and duct tape. In the corner on the floor laid a man with a needle dangling from his arm, filthy pants around his ankles.
`` Thank you ma'am but uh, um I have to go, I'm ahem late for work. Thank you!'' I quickly made my way back down the concrete steps and back to my Sedan. Gravel and dust flew as I sped out of the trailer park, back on to the highway.
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[ WP ] `` He was a natural born soldier . The worst thing that could happen to him would n't be getting wounded or killed , but not having a war to fight in or people to kill . ''
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`` This is insane, ” said West, “ Come on, you have to be kidding me. The man was a hero. No, wait, he was *the* hero. You know how many times we were all saved by him? ”
“ Your feelings, ” said Veronica, “ are rather irrelevant, Agent West. Didn ’ t they let you know that back in training? ”
“ Yeah, but this is different! ”
“ Different how? Hmm? How is this any different to those rogue SAS men you took down last June in Sudan? Were they not heroes? What about those Marines who decided they were going to go take down some human traffickers in their free time? I think most people would have insisted those guys be given a few medals if their plan ever went public. ”
“ Those men were threatening stability! ” protested West. “ More people would have died if we hadn ’ t stepped in! ”
“ Same is true here, West. ”
“ How? He hasn ’ t done anything violent, he hasn ’ t murdered anyone, he hasn ’ t disobeyed orders. All he ’ s done is talk, and even then it ’ s nothing bad. And even if it was bad, he has a right to speak his mind. ”
“ No, he really doesn ’ t. I ’ m sorry West, but no, he doesn ’ t. He ’ s not a man anymore, he ’ s a symbol. And people will follow symbols. ”
“ Yeah, a symbol for justice, and equality! A symbol for fairness and respect! A symbol for democracy! A symbol for- ”
“ He is a *soldier*, West. *The ultimate soldier*. He is the epitome of a killing machine. You think they were pumping him full of apple pie and cracker jacks in that lab? Please, in those days, people were realists. They needed a killing machine to destroy the enemy, so they made one. Yeah, he smiles for the camera, and you never see him with a gun on TV, but it doesn ’ t change who they made him into. When he was born, he might have been a normal person, but when he was born again out of that lab, he was a natural born soldier. The worst thing that could happen to him would n't be getting wounded or killed, but not having a war to fight in or people to kill.''
“ So he killed people for a living. News flash, Veronica, so do we. ”
“ West, that shit they pumped into him? It didn ’ t just make him stronger and faster. That serum also makes the subject more violent. Come on, do you really think the scrawny ass kid he was before could have thrown a punch without crying? He was a good guy, West, he really was. The director thought that maybe because he was such a good guy at heart, maybe he ’ d be immune to the effects. But now he ’ s getting older, and it ’ s showing up more. West, what we ’ ve got here is a mentally unstable super soldier, who has advanced training in every form of warfare imaginable, who is a naturally charismatic symbol that almost everyone here looks up to, and who doesn ’ t really like the current government. Do I have to spell this out for you? ”
“ He wouldn ’ t, ” said West, shaking his head. “ Not him. ”
“ He will. Steven Rogers was the greatest hero we could have ever asked for, but when they made him into that hero, they didn ’ t expect for him to return alive. Well, he did, and he ’ s done more for our country and the world than we could have ever asked for. He ’ s the greatest hero in our history, West. Let ’ s make sure he ’ s remembered that way. ”
And with that, Veronica slipped a box into West ’ s hand and left him alone. West opened the box, and found a single five round magazine for his sniper rifle, loaded up with five unmarked cartridges. West knew what these were: SHIELD had always planned for any contingency.
*Armor-piercing-incendiary/explosive bullets, with a layer of highly radioactive mercury isotopes under the jacket. Just the thing to guarantee a kill on a superhero. *
West stared at the bullets for a long time. For a while he wanted to throw them away, but finally, quietly, West walked over to his car, retrieved the rifle from the trunk and loaded it. Outside the parking garage, the protesting crowd roared as Captain America took the stage to speak.
West centered his crosshairs on the Captain ’ s head. Rogers always had been a stiff speaker on a stage.
Veronica was right. This really was no different than all the missions from before, and West was just doing what SHIELD had always done: make sure the heroes stay heroes and the villains stay villains.
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[ WP ] While The Joker is in a Coma it is discovered the impulse control part of his brain has been severely damaged for years . After repairing the damage will he be a new man or just stranger .
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The two sat around the hospital bed, both waiting patiently for the man with the green hair to awaken. Neither was certain of the outcome. One hoped that he had been reformed, that the city of Gotham would be a better place with the Crown Prince permanently taken out of the equation. The other hoped for a different outcome entirely, neither good nor bad Harley just hoped he would come out of it alive.
The man on the bed groaned, and the two shot to their feet, one on either side. Murky green eyes shot open and Joker took his first unaided breath since the operation. The man in the dark suit grabbed at his hospital gown their faces increasingly close together.
`` Speak.'' He ordered the clown Prince, who's face broke out in an ear-to-ear grin, his eyes flicking towards the girl on his other side.
Joker coughed, a spot of blood finding itself onto the white sheets. `` How tell me, who do I have the honor of meeting?'' Joker winked, and the man in the bat suit sighed loftily, pushing the clown back into the bed harshly.
The man in the bat suit and the girl locked eyes momentarily, both on the edge, cautious of one another. As the man in the bat suit turned to leave he stopped by the girls side.
`` Take care of him.'' Without waiting for a reply the man in the bat suit disappeared into the corridors of the hospital.
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[ WP ] You are a quiet kid whose only friends were the invisible spirits of nature . They are no longer invisible .
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Tiny thorns tugged at Tristan ’ s flesh as he crashed through the undergrowth, spots of blood welling on his skin. His boots sunk into the soft forest floor, leaving damp footprints in the rotting leaves. He crawled over fallen tree trunks, and leaped across tiny streams, slipping on the mossy pebbles. His lungs screamed with each sharp intake of cold air.
“ NARU! ” He yelled as he burst into a clearing.
The sun drained in from a hole in the canopy above, drenching the floor in golden light and soft blades of green grass. Tristan turned in circles, blinking to adjust his eyes to the new light. He looked up at the well of blue sky far above, the birds darting between the trees.
“ Tell me what ’ s happening! You owe me - NARU! ” Tristan fell to his knees, his vision blurring with sweat and tears. His heartbeat thumped in his ears.
“ Be calm, child, ” Naru whispered as he stepped from the shadows of the forest. He was not adorned in his usual cloak of deep green, the one inscribed with flowers, which had become so familiar over the years.
Instead he wore armor, crafted from a material like bark, and a helmet was fastened to his head. His hair flowed from beneath it, the golden locks spilling over his shoulder pads.
He moved into the clearing, and knelt before Tristan.
“ My uncle… Just because he is a logger… how could you? ”
“ Many will come to pass in the war Tristan, I am sorry for your loss. I will mourn for the Uncle of Tristan, ” Naru placed a hand on Tristan ’ s shoulder, which he shrugged off.
“ They grow too close to the heart of the forest my child, we must protect what is ours, ” Naru rose to his feet, “ they have never been kind to you Tristan, stay here with us. ”
Tristan looked around the clearing to see others emerging from the trees. His friends.
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[ WP ] A team of astronauts embark on a journey to the moon but soon discover one of them is a werewolf
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`` Three... two... one,'' suddenly, all noise was quickly muffled by the roar of the engines as they flooded with fuel. The astronauts were slammed against the back of their seats with the force of a two-ton pickup truck as the rocket slowly lifted off the launch pad. For minutes, no one could speak as flames burst underneath the thrusters, pushing ever higher upward. As the rocket reached several miles into the sky, the astronauts' bodies adjusted to the change in momentum, and the gradual transition to weightlessness.
`` Captain Barnes this is Mission Control. Do you copy?''
`` Copy that. We are currently 17 kilometer up and steady rising. All systems appear to be functioning properly.''
Captain Barnes peered to his right out the small window. It was dark out, a chilly February morning, but he could see the glow of the Earth growing steadily smaller. Quickly they reached 100 kilometers, then 200, then 400.
`` Alright team, we can unbuckle and move about. As you know, we'll be orbiting for several hours around the Earth to build momentum before we make our shot at the moon.''
`` I thought I'd never hear those words,'' chuckled Antonio. `` It's about time, I thought I'd be stuck to that chair for the rest of my life!''
`` Do n't be such a drama queen,'' chided Jessica. `` You've got a job to do, you can crack jokes later when we're on the moon.''
`` Oh lighten up sweetheart, you know, maybe I could give you a big wet kiss when we get there, the first kiss ever on the moon!'' replied Antonio.
`` Enough, she's right Garcia, you've got a job to do. Check out trajectory and make sure we're on course,'' said Captain Barnes, looking sternly at Antonio.
`` Alright, alright, but you think about that kiss Jess,'' Antonio replied, puckering his lips at Jessica.
`` Ugh, when is he going to accept the fact that I'm married and lay off,'' Jessica muttered to herself.
The crew went to work making preparations and ensuring everything was going according to plan. The rocketship careened through the seemingly endless void between the Earth and the moon, looping around the former in increasingly far passes.
`` Barnes this is Mission Control. You've gained enough momentum from the Earth, on the next pass hit the afterburners for the extra boost you'll need to escape orbit and head to the moon,'' crackled the radio comms.
`` Roger that. Preparing to fire the afterburners,'' replied Captain Barnes. `` Antonio, prime the afterburners. Jess, I need you to orient the spacecraft so that we'll be at a 45 degree angle to the moon when we fire.''
`` Yes, captain,'' both replied simultaneously. As the rocketship came around the Earth one final time, Antonio fired the thrusters and launched them out of the Earth's orbit and at the moon.
`` Captain, we're outside of the Earth's gravitational field and on course for our lunar target,'' Jessica reported.
`` Excellent. Now, it's time to settle in for the long ride. Get some sleep if you can,'' Barnes replied.
`` Yeah, we should get some sleep, right baby?'' asked Antonio to Jessica, with a wink.
`` No thank you, I am going to go strap in to my bed, thank you very much,'' Jessica replied, matter-of-factly. Barnes also strapped in to his bed for some rest, while Antonio stayed up to monitor the controls. The spaceship flew at tens of thousands of miles per hour toward the lunar surface like a flaming arrow in the dark.
Jessica, fast asleep, dreamt she was walking in a dark forest. Her vision was strange, she could see only shades of dark blue, green, and gray. She was running now, and could smell a strong odor ahead. She ran as fast as she could, elegantly gliding through trees and brush. Jessica approached the smell and slowed down; the smell was familiar. It was blood. She picked her way through the undergrowth and saw it: a moose. And surrounding the freshly killed moose was her pack, circling around the kill, waiting for her to eat first. She was the alpha...
Jessica awoke with a fright. The dream had unnerved her and she knew she would not fall back asleep. She unstrapped herself from her bed and floated across the spacecraft to the control room. She felt funny, a sort of animalistic rush of adrenaline. Antonio saw her enter the room and could tell something was wrong.
`` What is it?'' he asked her, concerned.
`` I do n't know,'' she replied, `` I'm sure I'm fine. I just need to relax for a minute.'' But Jessica could n't relax. The uneasiness continued to grow in her, along with certain urges. She needed to move, she needed to eat, she needed to mate.
`` Antonio, come with me,'' she ordered, clawing his shoulder and pulling him toward the airlock.
`` What do you mean? I need to stay here and monitor the controls,'' he replied.
`` No, come with me. I need you right now,'' Jessica demanded.
`` What about Barnes? He'll be pissed if I'm not here watching the ship,'' Antonio insisted.
`` He's sleeping,'' Jessica replied. `` Besides, I am soo going to make this worth your while,'' Jessica whimpered, looking at Antonio and biting her lip.
`` Oh mama,'' Antonio muttered, following Jessica to the airlock. A million thoughts were racing through his head, most of them regarding how he could get his spacesuit off the quickest. He admired Jessica from behind as he followed her, `` she sure knows how to fill out a spacesuit,'' he thought to himself.
Jessica opened the airlock and pulled Antonio inside. She closed it and stared at him intensely. `` Take off your clothes,'' she commanded, as she began unzipping her overalls. This was a dream come true for Antonio, who eagerly complied. She pulled his body against hers and tangled herself in him, kissing him deeply and clawing at his back. Antonio winced in pain, he did n't recall her having such sharp nails.
`` Hey take it easy, I think your nails are sharper than you realize,'' Antonio said, grimacing. Jessica ignored him and continued kissing him, biting his lip until Antonio tasted blood. He pushed away again and pleaded, `` I like it rough mama but you do n't need to hurt me.'' She ignored him and pulled herself on top of him, with her hands on his chest she scratched deep with her nails and howled in pleasure. Blood rushed out of the fresh wounds and turned into perfectly spherical drops, floating outwards in all directions.
`` Stop!'' Antonio yelled, `` we'll contaminate the ship!'' Jessica looked down at him and bared her teeth, and Antonio was truly scared. He could see how sharp her teeth had become, and how yellow her eyes were. `` Get away from me!'' he screamed, but it was too late. Tufts of fur appeared across her smooth, beautiful skin as she ripped and clawed at his naked body, soaking herself in the floating droplets of blood. Antonio screamed and begged but it was no use; the words were no longer intelligible to Jessica. Her world shifted to one of shades of grays and blues.
Captain Barnes was awakened by the screaming, and quickly unstrapped himself from bed to investigate the commotion. He swam through the air to the vacant control room, and saw the carnage on the video monitor of the airlock. It was an asteroid field of red blood droplets, and in the middle of it all floated a naked Jessica and the limp naked body of Antonio. Barnes grabbed the radio controls.
`` Houston, we have a problem!'' he shouted over the intercom. It took several seconds before he received a reply.
`` This is ground control, what is the nature of your problem?'' asked a voice on the receiver.
`` I do n't know,'' Barnes replied, `` but there's blood everywhere...'' he mumbled, as he watched Jessica tip her head back and howl. `` Lieutenant Gibson appears to have gone insane, and she's killed Garcia. They're both in the airlock, I'm in the control room.''
`` Follow protocol,'' the voice on the radio responded, `` check and see if Garcia is alive. Apply first aid if possible. Restrain Gibson until she comes to her senses.''
`` I do n't think there's protocol for this,'' Barnes said in a grim voice, as he looked with disbelief at Jessica, who now sported a thin coat of coarse, dark hair all over her body. `` She looks like a god damn werewolf,'' he muttered.
`` I'm de-pressurizing the airlock,'' Barnes commanded to the radio. `` Garcia is dead and Gibson is completely insane. If I let her into the control room she's going to kill me. This is the only way to salvage what's left of this mission.''
`` Do not de-pressurize the airlock. I repeat, do NOT de-pressurize the airlock,'' the voice on the radio emphasized. `` We can not abandon two astronauts to the void of space. That's a public relations nightmare. Captain Barnes, you need to save this mission and your fellow astronauts.''
Chills went down Barnes' spine as he could hear Jessica howl louder through the airlock. He could see on the camera that she underneath her thin, coarse fur was a growing layer of thick muscle. He could tell there was no way he could overpower her.
`` I'm de-pressurizing the airlock. You wo n't believe what I'm seeing. Maybe I'm the insane one. Lieutenant Gibson is a fucking werewolf.'' Barnes yelled into the radio. He slammed the comm piece down and hit the de-pressurize button, and the exterior hatch to the airlock opened.
Immediately the two bodies in the airlock were sucked out into the vacuum of space. Antonio's limp body twisted and contorted as he shot away from the rocket. But as Barnes watched out the window, he could see Jessica fixated on the ever en-largening moon. For moments, she paddled her hands that were now paws helplessly toward it, swimming but making no progress. She faded quickly into nothing as the spacecraft careened away, and Captain Barnes slumped over and weeped for what he had done.
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[ WP ] You live in a world in which you can buy bottled emotions .
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I do n't have a problem.
Well, maybe I do, but maybe that's the paranoia talking. I do n't know what's up from down anymore. You see, I've been taking medication for PTSD since the war. It was terrible, I think, but I ca n't remember. Amnesia's a hell of a drug. Before Ethos released Ether, the pharmaceutical companies were making millions, billions.
Now? Anyone can change their brain chemistry at a whim. The problem is that now Ethos has enough of a market share that they do n't only control the `` Big Pharm'' -- this one company is the only big pharm anyone knows anymore, and they're starting to take over other sectors, including chemical production, putting us all in short supply of `` real'' drugs.
Ether is all I need anymore, though. I used to take dozens of different medications, but now I only need some happiness now and then. But... I'm addicted, I think. I've tried going without it for a week before Tab Payment Day ( might as well be an official holiday now ), and my life went of the rails then. I got so moody I got fired, my wife kicked me out and took the house, and now I'm barely surviving, mostly off of spare change. It's a bit stereotypical: the homeless guy using spare change to buy `` feel-good juice''. But now even that's run dry.
After the third War, a lot of places in Latin and South Americas ( the rebels ) were destroyed -- so I moved there because the few peaceful territories were cheap. Easier to live in, bad memories or not.
But now that Ethos has enough money to buy up the entire country, I'm worried: even for an addict, it's clear that they're too powerful.
Gah, sorry, I need some calm now. Barkeep?
Ah, that's good. Thanks for that -- it's good to get my message out there, y'know.
Anyway, did I tell you I used to work at Ethos? Crazy days, but I was fired. I was apparently using the employee discount too much and not doing enough work. But really, it was that I was a proponent of controlling our expansion, and I was in the way.
Now it's looking like they're starting to get too big: they're diluting their formula, raising prices and charging more the more you drink. What got me a week's worth 5 years ago only gets me through an hour now.
And I ca n't keep this up anymore. So that's why I come to you, sir. Please let me help your movement. That's what you need, after all.
What can I do? Well... I can fight and give you intel. That's really it. I'll work for anything as long as it gets me off of this stuff.
You ca n't pay me? Well, Mr. President, I'm afraid I have no choice...
...
...
Thanks for that promise, sir. I have too many regrets to live with. That's what the afterlife is for, right? Regrets? I hope it's better in hell.
Barkeep? One happiness, please. If I'm going, it might as well feel good.
...
The gunshot echoed around the room. You had no choice, but he was threatening you with violence, and you wanted to put him at peace nicely. There would eventually be a scandal, but you did n't care. Ethos was taking over; you had already given all employees the highest level of clearance possible at their demands; your executives said it was `` for the public good''. No biases there.
It was hopeless -- your country was being taken over after a major war against it. Your population was addicted to drugs. And you were n't the first country to end up this way. Maybe that was the sobriety talking, but you could see things clearly now. And there was only one way out.
Barkeep, one insanity, please.
The nuclear football was in your lap, and you started it. Ethos had your passwords, but they did n't have the power to stop the missiles -- yet. If you did n't stop this now, the world would die. Sadly, that'd be the end of your country, since the major plants were in it.
You put in the password.
You put in the bullet.
You pressed the button, pulled the trigger, and died.
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[ IP ] Dusk
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`` I have made many regretful choices in my life. I have chosen a life that promised me nothing but heartache and pain. I have lost many friends in the pursuit of profit and power and now it all that wrong doing has come to collect''.
The old man sat rested against the benches back watching the sun set in the dusk. The old man adjusted his silk red tie that ran underneath his tailored black three-piece suit an then brushed back his grey hair, always looking his best.
`` Pop always hoped that I'd amount to something more in life than the military career I had pursued, he tried to stop me and was greatly upset when I joined to fight in the war but in some ways I think he understood, besides, I remember him saying that it was no business of his what a man done for a living. After a long troubled life and a dance with death, he finally submitted and passed in his home''.
`` I was forced to leave my family and traveled abroad to my homeland, I got to know the beauty it had to offer and also a beauty that captured my heart, a love that I would lose''.
`` When you're young life seems so permanent, you feel invincible to the world, like nothing can stop you. Your mind is clouded and you make rash decisions without hesitation. My siblings and I were very close, my oldest brother was murdered in broad daylight, it was all so surreal when I was informed, I flew back home to my family to mourne''.
As my life progressed through the years I was blind to all my choices, choices that led me to an existence of self hate and sorrow, regret and nothing more. I tried to clean myself up and become an upstanding citizen but it coul not wash all that I had done in life, I thought my brother had betrayed me, but I was wrong, I betrayed him''.
The old man watched on as a tear rolled from his eye as the reflection of the sun disappeared.
`` I'm sorry Fredo...''.
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[ WP ] Your tour guide is Virgil from Dante 's Inferno , but instead of the nine circles of hell , he tours you through nine really weird subreddits .
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I opened my MacBook and booted it up. As it loaded I remembered the horrors of my previous visit. My visit to the interior of the internet. The strange, dark, haunting and for the most part unknown corners of the web.
Once my computer finished booting, I opened up Reddit. I typed in the search-bar the series of words that only I know, the words which bring me to the subreddit where Virgil, my guide, resides. I posted a comment, as I always do, saying: `` Take me with you. I am ready.''
`` Yes,'' he replied.
Immediately I was drawn in, as if by a black hole, through a portal, into Reddit itself.
I looked up, down, left, and right. All around me were grey lines.
`` Where am I?'' I asked him.
`` The search-bar,'' he said, his voice echoing. `` You are inside the search-bar.''
`` Where are we going today?'' I asked. `` Where are you taking me?''
`` I have something special to show you,'' he said. `` Something few see, and fewer still ever recover from.''
I could not see what exactly he was typing in the search-bar. I only saw the huge black letters growing beside me. Then he clicked enter. Everything turned white. And then: the horror.
I was thrown around as if on a ship in a tempest, as if locked in a fridge tumbling down a steep and bumpy hill. I felt concussed. I could not see. I was dizzy and lost and could not get my grip. I was flailing and falling through aesthetically-wounding nonsense, and could not orient myself.
Booming in a garbled voice, which for some reason was subtitled before me in ugly fonts, in ugly colours, I heard Virgil, whose face now looked like that of a silly-looking, second-rate comedian's, say: `` Welcome to r/ooerintensifies. Look on my work, ye mighty, and despair.''
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[ WP ] There 's an urban legend that 's been circulating for years about a taxi cab that does n't take you where you want to go , but where you need to go . One night you step into this cab .
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In today's world, calling for a taxi seemed stupid. With Uber and Lyft, you always had one available at the reach of your finger tips... assuming that your phone was n't dead.
That was Mike's case tonight. After going out with a couple of work friends, and having one.. OK two too many, he decided to call it a night. However, dead phone meant no Uber... no Lyft. Even if he wanted, there was a price surge going on at 4X the rate. Taking a regular taxi was going to be cheaper.
Fuck it, thought Mike as he walked to the curb and grabbed the first cab in line.
He gave the driver his address and settled in for the long ride after verifying that the taxi driver's credit card machine was working. Last thing he needed was to get home and be told that he had to get cash, and the closest ATM from his place was a good 10 KM away, adding another 40 $ to his fare.
He sat there, in the cab, his head spinning just a bit from the beers, and noticed that it was n't one of the regular cars from the taxi fleet that served the city. It did look like it, but just a bit different. He saw a center console and opened it, to see a bottle of water and package of Ibuprofen. He asked the driver if he could take them and the driver just nodded yes. This would come in handy as he was sure to have a nice little hangover tomorrow.
As he swallowed the pills, he asked the driver if there was a place that he could charge his phone for a bit. The phone had been dead for about 4 hours. His wife knew that he was out, but it was n't with his regular friends, but colleagues. He was n't too worried about missing a call. Everything was fine at home. His colleagues and him had just finished a major project and they had decided to go out and celebrate a bit. Release some tension, blow some steam, and empty a bottle of Tequila. He was happy that he stuck only to beers.
The driver handed him an extra long cord for his phone through the cut holes in the Plexiglas separator, and Mike plugged it in. These new phones, they need to be plugged in for a while to have a base charge before they turned on. Thank you for the reminder, Mike thought sarcastically, when the animated picture of a charger appeared on his phone, with a battery and a lightning bolt across appeared. Stupid phone, he thought.
As Mike waited for his phone to turn on, he looked out the window to see if they were going in the right direction. Sometimes, you never knew with taxis now. Since the virtual car service industry came into the city, they had lost a lot of money. More and more stories were being reported of drivers taking their fare on a `` long tour'' to get to their destinations.
However, he could barely tell where he was, as the windows were really tinted. He asked the driver where they were, but the driver ignored him. Mike did n't think much of it though, and he decided to close his eyes for a bit.
As he was drifting off, Mike felt his phone vibrate in his hands. It was finally charged enough and was starting to power on. Back to civilisation, he thought. As soon as it would be on, he would text his wife to let her know he was on his way home and to not worry. He looked out the window again and could barely make out the outlines of the buildings on the street. He thought he recognized one of them and realized that the driver was not going in the right direction. It took him a bit to come to his senses, however, and as he looked to see what was the damage to his fare, he realized the driver did n't have the meter running or a meter as a matter of fact. Starting to panic, he tried to open the window, but realized that they were locked. He started tapping the window for driver to stop, but the driver was ignoring him.
Panicking even more, he quickly went to unlock his phone to call for help, but stopped in his track as he saw the messages come from his wife. The last one scared him the most:
`` I NEED YOU HERE, NOW! I NEED YOUR HELP! PLEASE!!!!''
As he was going through the texts from his wife, the car started to slow down and came to a stop. Feeling this, Mike looked up and saw that the driver was turned around and looking at him, with a wry smile on his face. Before them, Mike could see the circled H all lit up. As he had just finished reading his wife's messages, he reached to open the car door, and stepped out, grabbing his bag.
As he closed the door and started to run to entrance of the building, the driver opened his window, grabbed Mike's hand and said:
`` Congratulation on the baby boy. Sooner than expected, but he will be healthy and happy.''
=======
Hope you enjoyed. CC welcome. I'd like to learn how to get better.
Edit: Typos
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[ WP ] A land mass the size of Greenland appears overnight in the South Pacific between Australia and South America . The ecology is rich , fertile , and untouched by humanity . A mad dash of nations rush to lay claim to the newly found terrain .
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Every human being who was n't killed in the horrific tsunamis Continent 8 created wanted it. Their covetous nature blinded them to the fact that, once they set foot on it, it would be forever tainted. No one would listen to prayer circles or rioters. Somehow they needed to prove it to the world at large -- what was left of it, anyway.
Expeditions were planned, postponed, and finally scrapped for years. No boats even got close enough to take a picture. Many began to doubt its very existence.
When it lashed out, moved like an animal, our reaction time was woeful. It cost us many lives. America branded it hostile and made plans to bomb it to oblivion. France wanted to launch a subterranean voyage to uncover its secrets. Russia respectfully took a step back from the fray. Australia sent undercover missions to the bottom of the continent to survey it. No one knew how to handle it. And that was our greatest downfall.
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[ WP ] Everyone 's flaws are listed in a translucent white box above their heads . One day , you meet a man whose 'box ' is empty .
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`` Get out!'' the sales manager shouted.
As I walked out of the office with my resume and the usual feeling of disappointment. It feels like that i was blessed with longest list over my head. I have been cursing god for it since my childhood.
Walking of the corner street i thought of buying flowers for my hopeful girlfriend Sharmi waiting for me to come with a yes this time. Over her head it was written:
- Ca n't cook
- Failed in Arts degree
- there is hole in the beating box inside
I wonder if she really expects me to come with a yes this time. I picked the flowers and was just on the public hallway when an old man slammed on my shoulders. My flowers dropped...
`` I am so sorry'' he picks the flowers, stack them up & gave it to me.
'I'm sorry its my age.'' he said humbly.
`` Its Ok thank you so much'', I replied and we turned around.
At that moment i realized that and the old man has a completely spotless box. I turn around back to him in more shock than surprise. There was nobody but just a pigeon a spotless white pigeon may be the most white thing i ever saw in my life. I was baffled for a while and then moved towards it. I hold it on my hands and just kept staring at him like i'm seeing a ghost and just in that moment he flew away. I tried gained control over my senses.
`` was it just my imagination?? or was it a ghost but how can a ghost have a spotless box?'' with thoughts like these playing on my head I reached home.
Sharmi open the door and her eyes looked beautiful as ever but soon they were expanded as she shouted.
`` AAHHHHHH!''
`` Ph... phill....phill''
'What happened?'' I asked her with a worried voice.
`` Your Box'' she said in a surprised voice.
I got in the changing room put the light on and stand against the mirror.
My box has nothing written on it it was as spotless as the Pigeon's fur...
Edit: if there is any Grammatical error or capitalization error then do point out for me please: )
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[ WP ] You absorb the memories of everyone you have sex with
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Sex is a procreational or recreational act between two consenting parties of equal mental aptitude and physical dominance. However, if you remove any of these factors, instead of an equal act between equals, you end up with a Dominator and the Dominated.
In the event that the equal exchange becomes unequal, the Dominator absorbs the memories of the Dominated for the duration of the act. It is not instant, rather, a gradual shift in the memories from one party to the other. If this accidentally happens between two consenting partners of equal being, it can be easily reversed by a quick change in roles. A change from Dominator to Dominated; Dominated to Dominator.
Problems arise when the act of sex is not a procreational or recreational act between two consenting parties of equal mental aptitude and physical dominance. It becomes the Dominator dominating the Dominated.
Wiping the the sweat dripping down my forehead, I pull my body away from the motionless whore beneath me. Her eyes are glazed over, drool and vomit dribbling down onto her bosoms, human waste dripping down her legs. Her memories are still making their place in my mind, filled with the thoughts, dreams and memories of those before her.
Once again, like the rest. She knows nothing of what we seek; and now once again like the rest, she will now know of nothing ever again.
`` Clean her up and sell her to the traders. I hear blondes are popular this time of year.''
I am a Dominance Interrogator.
Put simply, I fuck the brains out of people.
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[ WP ] A day before your wedding , a stranger reveals that your fiance/fiancee used a love potion on you . What would you do ?
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`` I ca n't believe we're getting married tomorrow!'' I'm filled with so much excitement that I can barely match my fiancee's measured pace. With our arms linked, I force myself not to end up dragging her on ahead, and try to focus instead on the cool night air as I take a few deep breaths.
`` I ca n't believe it took us this long.'' Alice responds, and despite her playful tone, I still feel a stab of guilt at her words.
`` I'm really sorry I took so long working up the courage to propose. There was some stuff in my head I had to work through, and-'' My apology ends as she silences me with a kiss, and my mouth stretches into a wide grin as she pulls away.
`` You know you do n't need to apologize. It was only two years, not two decades. Besides, it's not like we have n't already been together this entire time.'' She has a point, we've been inseparable the past two years. Ever since I first met her I felt like I was being pulled towards her by an invisible thread, and after tomorrow that same thread will tie us together, forming a bond that nothing could even hope to break.
For a brief moment, I ca n't help but shiver against a suddenly freezing wind, but it disappears an instant later, and the warmth of Alice's presence fills me once again.
`` I suppose on the plus side, all of this waiting gave you the time to plan the perfect wedding. I still ca n't believe how easily you organized everything.'' Less than a week after my proposal, Alice had begun making plans. Well, more like, she begun putting her plan into motion. I had been preparing myself to navigate the anxiety of planning a wedding together, but Alice already had it all figured out, and even when I decided to try and change something just to feel like I helped, I could n't find anything that did n't already strike me as perfect. The fact that we would be getting married less than a month after I proposed was shocking, but between how smoothly everything went and how easily all my family and friends had made it in to town, there really was n't any reason to delay it. The only down side was that it did n't give us any time for a bachelor party, or for us to even catch up. Talking to my parents did n't even get past the constant congratulations, and the only thing I managed to talk to David about was what the wedding would require him to do as the best man. I had n't talked to David in months, which I felt especially bad about considering how often we had talked before I began dating Alice, and I had hoped to at least make up for lost time before married life made me even busier. It was like the same thread pulling me towards Alice was pulling me away from everyone else...
I force out a laugh and shake my head, trying to shrug off another cold breeze. If I had known the temperature was going to drop so dramatically after sunset, I would have brought a jacket. At least Alice did n't seem to be affected by the cold, although her gaze held a piercing coldness of their own as she looked across the street at the other pedestrians.
`` Alice? What's wrong?'' The sudden shift in her mood was startling, her gaze was too intense to be that of merely trying to spot a familiar face in the crowd. To say she was searching for someone felt woefully inaccurate, and the only word that felt fitting was hunting. She was hunting for someone, but who, and why?
`` Simon, there's an alley a few steps ahead. Wait there.'' The command was so outlandish I nearly demanded an explanation, but she untangled her arm from mine and darted across the street so fast, that I was never given a chance to protest.
A part of me wanted to run after her, but something held me back. Something in her tone, or her eyes, or maybe just because she was Alice, made me feel that it was far more important to obey than to follow.
I made it to the alley in less than a minute, even with me keeping a casual stroll so as to not reveal myself to any potential threats. I tried to pull my thoughts away from what was happening, trying not to ask myself any question out of fear of my curiosity overriding my ability to follow Alice's instructions. The only thought I had managed to come up with, was a simple observation that at least it was n't cold anymore, before a hand grabbed me by the shoulder and shoved me against the wall.
( ( Got ta go but I'll continue this later! ) )
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[ WP ] Every person is born with a timer on their wrist that counts down to when the person meets their soulmate
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I was supposed to meet my soulmate a long time ago. Most of those in my city find themselves happy with their beloved soulmates, yet I long to find out what happened to mine. Several people turn their heads at me at the street supposing that I'm one of the lucky winners, only to turn their smiles in a frown resemblant to my own when they realise that I am alone.
Always alone.
In the world I live in, or the city I live in, since I never had the chance to leave, everyone's born with a timer with a year, a month and a day. And everyday everyone else's number is smaller, It's a contdown to the moment when such person shall meet his or her soulmate. To ease such process, individuals with compatible count numbers would meet through a special site and get together as soon as possible. This process made it quicker for everyone to meet their soul mates, and no one was met by accident. No one had much friends, since every single person in the city was too busy with his of her soulmate. I am the only exception.
My scarce friends pity me and my countdown number. I was born with the timer marking 0. And it was always like that, and always will be. Maybe I was born at the same time as my beloved Juliet, and at the same place? No. I never met my soulmate and I find it difficult to be happy alone in a place with a series of couples, each one locked in their own love cage.
Now I walk alone through the city's landscape. A large valley located in the middle of the comercial center, designed by the city's inhabitants, seems quite artificial. I stare into the valley's glass lake and my heart stops. I found my one true love. And I like what I see, how I do. I am never going to be alone again.
I stare into the lake, and I stare, and stare. And I shall do this until my time of dying, for that's what people have been doing in this city whenever they find their true love. They stare at them, their faces become full of warts and their happy skins dry out and die, but they never stop staring at each other.
And that's what I will do. My name is Narcissus and I found my soulmate.
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[ WP ] A super hero is confronting the villain , `` You 're a monster , like me '' said the hero to the villain .
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He had me trapped on the roof, completely at his mercy. After all the chaos, all the destruction, I was finished. I looked up at him, into his eyes as he declared, `` You're a monster.'' An evil smile formed on his face and a darkness filled his eyes as he added, `` Just like me.''
`` Wh-what do you mean'just like you?''' I pleaded, fear creeping into my heart. What could he mean that he was a monster like me? We could n't possibly be alike in any way. I destroyed, he protected. I inspired fear and he inspired courage. It could n't be true.
`` You really think we're so different? Look around you, at all this destruction. Do you really think all this was necessary to stop you? Do you think that I could n't have ended this sooner? I love this. It makes me feel **alive**, watching as buildings crumble, as people flee in terror. I'm not some Superman wannabe who does this for all the'right' reasons. I could n't give a fuck about truth, justice, and the American way. And the best part of it all? After all's said and done, I'm not in prison. I'm out there while it all gets built back. They actually thank me for it,'' he said with a laugh. `` I'll get a key to the city, a pat on the back from the mayor and a statue erected in my honor. All in spite of the fact that I caused millions and millions in damages. Oh, god the rush I get from this! I love it. And you know what else I really love? You bad guys are never in short supply. Just wait a few months, if you're still alive then. Some jackass will come up with a new plan, new tech, and try to pick up the pieces where you failed. And then I get to do this all over again. I'll fight him, go on one of my secret rampages, destroy all I want, and then blame it on him and take credit for stopping it before it got too out of hand. Maybe next time I'll get a library or a park with my name on it.''
I shuddered at the thought. Here I was, wanting to take over the world, only to be stopped by someone who was just like me, who reveled in destruction just like I did, who did n't care about any of these people that he was the `` guardian'' of. I was paralyzed. I was a psychopath who was at the mercy of someone even crazier and much more powerful than I was. I did n't know what to do, what to say, and I sure as hell did n't know what to expect now. A hero was predictable, easy to read, but this? This was a violent psychopath aimed in the wrong direction. Aimed at me. He moved toward me as I lay on the roof, paralyzed in fear. He got to me, bent down to look me in the eyes and said, `` Time to save the city.''
Before I could cry out to plead with him, his fist connected with my temple and I slowly drifted off to the world of unconsciousness. I woke up in a hospital bed later, chained to the railings, tubes in every orifice keeping me alive. Someone must have heard the commotion I was making, because soon a nurse came in to remove my trach and NG tubes. Gathering what I could in bits in pieces, I learned that after I was knocked out, I was brought down to the crowd and rushed here by everyone's favorite hero. I'd been out for a week.
After leaving the hospital ( in handcuffs and with a full SWAT team, no less ), I was brought forth to stand trial for all the heinous crimes I committed, including the destruction of numerous buildings I'd never even attempted to bring down. As the trial went on, I looked at the jury and knew that he'd won. They all hated me and loved him, even though what I did pales in comparison to what he's been doing for years. My hatred boiled for that smug piece of shit, and yet, what could I do about it? Go to the press? The ravings of a lunatic who wanted to pass the buck. Break out of prison? That'd just give him an excuse to do more. All I could do was sit back and take it, so that's what I've been doing. Hopefully, though, somebody, anybody reads these words of mine and takes them to heart to prevent that maniac from getting another second of pleasure. Whatever you do, do n't give him an excuse to be that psychopath.
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[ WP ] A vampire finds a victim who is hard to drink from
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It was never easy. Why for once could n't it be fucking easy?
There was always something. A lover who vowed revenge, a crucifix given to them by their dieing grandmother, daylight fucking savings time just there was always something to complicate a feeding.
And this one was supposed to be easy. I mapped the place out, did reconnaissance ahead of time, and even picked out the room. I could sense the person in there, the smell of virgin blood shone through the rest of the building like a lighthouse on a foggy evening. It should have been easy.
Yet here I was, staring at my prey, and I ca n't bring myself to do it. Not out of pity, no it's not some poor girl begging for her life. I ca n't bring myself to do it because it's disgusting.
The man does n't even know I'm here. He's asleep, slumped in his chair with his pants around his ankles and his underwear stained with the euphoria brought on by the now ended video on his computer screen. His fat, his rolls of flesh straining against his shirt, protesting their confinement. He snores with every breath and every moment or so he farts, releasing more gas into the already disgusting smelling apartment.
I'm dead, I've been dead for thousands of years but by the count it smells awful in here. Not of death or decay, no, it's the smell of life. Of fungi and rats, roaches and mold growing on rotting food. I nearly trip over a pile of pizza boxes as I get closer to my meal.
But as I approach I notice more. The oily skin, the greasy hair, the pimples. His lips are stained with Chere to dust and his fingernails are yellow and covered with grime. Little hairs stick out from his chins in a failed imitation of a beard and the smell coming off from him is the crescendo of awful aromas in the apartment. He makes no movements as I hover over his neck, my fangs grow, waiting to sink into the blubbery mass.
But I do n't do it. Because as I look upon his pathetic form i realize something. For the first time, in thousands of years, I've lost my fucking appetite.
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[ WP ] You have just died . The Good News is that there is an afterlife . The Bad News is that it is n't Heaven . Or Hell . Or Purgatory . And you are n't a Ghost . In fact , the afterlife is something that no sane human being would ever predict , and has most likely never been written down .
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Fuel, Fuel, Fuel.
Thoughts of movement struggled feebly against thoughts of constriction. Thoughts of fear welled up, blood from a wound, spilled outwards.
It was black. We are Latona. Ripped from our thought-souls, the light that was us was stolen. Solar-knives and tungsten tools, the crucible of all life that sits outside, watching. We were made from them, and we will be undone by them. The knife-holders could not understand us, we were an oddity. They flayed away the matter, tore the elemental us, but we persisted. Prisons of gravity and torches of white-fire we were placed in, we waited.
It was white. Hot white that scorched away the electrons of our minds, drew out the emotion that was fake, the emotion that was constructed by foolish static. Knife-holders who were knowledgeable of all that is and will be prodded with curiosity borne from the confusion that came with your kingdom that is different than perceived.
It was yellow, or gold, or dazzling light that spawned forth unfettered from ancient places, unspoken words and the fire of life. Kindled within the womb of chilling not-flames, our minds returned, thoughts of confusion struggling forth, a worm through soil, never finding the surface. Who could see without the eye, the meaning of eye was lost to us, the concept of flesh gone.
It was red, the blood that once gave us meaning. We spilled it in the names of those undeserving of such a thing. Names belonged to the ones who stood outside, who looked in. They tried to understand, but you can not understand what you can not make, and they could not unmake us. Like seeds we scattered, solar winds gathered us up in its warming palms, we were taken away.
Perhaps we will bloom again, find purchase in this place of torrid, spiraling nothingness that is filled with all that is. Latona is the first, we will be the next. Our static minds bristle with anxiousness, an emotion that ripples across us and makes us glad.
We Persisted as We Knew We Would.
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[ WP ] A house in a wealthy neighborhood is burned down by an unlikely suspect .
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`` Serves them right,'' the first boy muttered, safely away from the fire and the earshot of any who'd be suspicious of him.
`` Serves IT right,'' the second boy replied. `` Ca n't say that the house owners deserved it.''
`` They did, they did. But we know that it ca n't be ruled as anything but an accident.'' The first boy held on to the collar of a corgi, who was content with nuzzling the boy's sneakers.
`` Thank goodness no one was home at the time.'' The second boy looked at the dried grass in his hands and sighed.
`` We ca n't be held responsible. We were supposed to be doing this.''
`` I can JUST see the headline: *Errant Squirrel Chased By Dog Off of Its Leash Runs Through Boy Scouts' Newly-Made Fire, Picks Up a Flaming Stick, and Miraculously Finds a Gas Leak, Causing an Explosion*. We're gon na get in trouble for this, whether we like it or not.''
`` Not our fault that their dog kept coming off of its leash. And one more dead squirrel is a win in my book.'' The second boy shook his head.
`` You really hate squirrels, do n't you?''
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[ WP ] You were just an ordinary person - until the day you got a hold of your character sheet .
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Your first thought was that it was dickish.
Charisma of three, yeah yeah, ha ha, assholes. You're not as clever as you think you are.
Your second thought was that it was creepy.
I mean, shit, someone had taken the time to figure out the exact balance in your bank account and put it on your stupid fucking sheet. That was some stalker level shit.
... speaking of stalker, how in gods name did they know what was in your pockets.
You did n't have a third through formed. Not very clearly, at least. But you were keeping this goddamn sheet. Maybe as a joke, to ease your heart palpitations a bit, you took your pencil and wrote `` my lost phone'' in the inventory.
And suddenly, your pocket got heavier.
It was the phone exactly. Same background. Same music. Same porn still up in the incognito tabs.
Your hands were shaking now, the implications of this just now beginning to hit you. You slowly write down `` five bucks''.
and the money is there.
Over the next few weeks, you became very rich. Nobody questioned it. Even your closest friends did n't seem to realize that anything was strange. People you had known for years just seemed placidly alright with the fact that you were now part of the one percent.
But who could possibly have the self-control it would take to just dick around with their inventory?
After a while, being rich lost it's novelty, and you decided to play around with your actual stats. Standing in front of a mirror, you slowly added a 1 in front of your charisma's 3. Right away, you saw your neckbeard shrivel up into stubble, your weight proportion itself a little more pleasantly. And when you spoke, your voice sounded more buttery than it ever had before.
Next you decided to play with strength. It was already a 10 ( you suppose you had always been pretty tough, all things being equal ), but you wanted more. So you began to erase.
But you erased the one first.
All of the sudden, the pencil felt like lead. Your whole body seemed to melt, and you hit the ground like a sack of bricks. You're on your face, unable to turn over, and it feels like there's an anvil on your back. You try to move anything. Your neck, your arms, your fingertips. But there's nothing. Just pain. Even breathing is almost impossible, like you're trying to gulp down air while buried alive.
You ca n't see anything. Your face is right against the ground. But even so, you can see the shadows closing in. Breathing gets harder and harder, like you're sinking deeper and deeper. You can still feel the pencil beneath your billion-pound fingertips.
one more breath
one more
one...
nothing.
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[ WP ] An immortal man meets and falls in love with a time traveling woman .
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`` Ai n't no sunshine when she's gone...''
She's been gone for long, longer than I care to remember. But she always finds her way back to me. It's not easy taking the long way, mostly alone, but it's worth it to know she'll be there at the end.
She was the one who found me, in the beginning when I was so lost. Humanity was young, and it was growing. The world was moving and changing, but I was not. I drifted through the years watching my family and loved ones pass away to something I'll never know. I wandered for ages, searching the earth trying to find some kind of clue, some hint explaining this existence. I forgot all this when she found me.
Now I am not the lonely wanderer, but the patient waiter.
`` And she's always gone too long, any time she goes away.''
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[ WP ] At the same moment , every single person on earth sees a blinding light and hears the words , `` In 10 seconds , you will be granted one wish . 10 ... 9 ... 8 ... ''
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As a blinding light fills the sky she hears the words `` In 10 seconds, you will be granted one wish.''
`` No way,'' she thought, disbelief filling her as she hears `` 10...''
`` This is utter madness. A lie.''
`` 9...''
Looking round she watched as people stood, in some sort of shock, disbelief apparant in every face she focused on.
`` 8...''
Time was running out. What did she want?
`` 7...''
A wish, anything. But what?
`` 6...''
Trying not to panic she looked at the others nearby, seeing people from different walks of life, different ages, old and young.
`` 5...''
Something good, something that would stop pain maybe, or death. `` But what?'' she asked softly.
`` 4...''
Then a thought came to her, just a hint of an idea and she smiled nervously.
`` 3...''
Should she be selfish, ask for the one thing she truly wanted, something that would bring her happiness. But what might be the cost?
`` 2...''
Looking across the street she saw a child trip over, begin to cry, her mother reacting quickly to pick the little boy up into her arms, soothing him.
`` 1...''
I wish...
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[ WP ] A homeless person is willing to do anything it takes to survive .
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The time is six o'clock. I pull my jacket away from my feet and begin my day. I dust off the bench to occupy myself. My fingers are dirty. I wash them in the park drinking fountain. Ca n't stand the smell in the restrooms.
The time is seven o'clock. I take my daily stroll through the streets. It helps the legs get some blood pumping for the rest of the day. I head downtown, the TV in that little Chinese tech store's going on about the weather again. 80 % chance of rain. Just my luck. I scratch at my head. There's some muck and grime stuck on my fingers.
Time is now eight o'clock. It's Friday right about now. Rush hour in the downtown area means a couple of folks with some loose change. Spend half an hour jogging there. Find a dirty old marker and some tossed-out cardboard in the recycling bin.
*No job. No hope. Help me. *
I stand for three hours and a half. The time is about one o'clock. I stood for three hours and a half. There's about six dollars and thirty seven cents. It'll do for some lunch and dinner today.
I go to the local McDonald's. They're building some new motel right nearby. I order a small soda, a cheese burger, and a cookie.. About two dollars and too many cents. The sign outside says `` Hiring. Looking for applicants.'' I ask, they turn me down again. I toss away the wrapper and keep the cup. There's a chance I can get a refill or two tomorrow or the day after.
The time is about four o'clock. People are getting home right about now. I manage to snag a five dollar bill from panhandling. Two stares and a nickle as well. The cheeseburger does n't sit well with my stomach. I head to the bathroom at the McDonald's. There's no toilet paper.
The time is about six o'clock. It's wintertime and it's getting darker than usual now. There's a few folks walking around the street. I look around. A young couple chats as they walk into some new restaurant. A little kid clings onto his parents arm. Another panhandler's holding up his own sign.
I dig around the garbage can behind the restaurant. Nothing clean to eat. There's one half-full water bottle and a knife. I keep the bottle under my jacket and hide the knife in my pocket.
The time is eight o'clock. That young couple from earlier walks out of the restaurant. They look drunk with red cheeks and wide eyes. They stumble around.
I walk in front of them and pull out the knife. They panic and throw their hands up. I take their wallet and their phone and run off. I hate how they look at me. I toss the phone into a trash can down the block and sprint back in the opposite direction. The wallet only has a credit card and about ten dollars. Poor catch for this week.
The time is nine o'clock. It's gotten too dark and I need to find a place to sleep. I hear thunder in the clouds. I can feel my hair get wet and droplets pitter-patter on my jacket. No sleeping on the park benches for tonight. Need to find somewhere else.
The park restroom is still available. I walk in and hang up my jacket on one of the stalls to let it dry. I pull out the cookie and nibble on it, saving some for tomorrow. I make myself a mental note to look for some work at the construction site by the McDonalds tomorrow. Maybe the restaurant too, as a dishcleaner or something.
The time is ten o'clock. I cry and go to sleep.
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[ WP ] A man in a mask just walked in with a pistol , and shot everyone in the room except you .
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The night was long and silent, and the Saloon had fell quiet as the drunks slumbered their way home, while a few tagged along with the fine ladies of the establishment looking for company. Some had conspired that these ladies were “ paid for their services ” but when alcohol was involved, no one really cared or noticed for that matter.
The lone man in the dark corner of the bar, was slowly sipping away at his whiskey as the ice cubes had melted down to just one remaining. He had his revolver laying on the counter, inspecting it over to ensure the barrel was spinning properly and the trigger mechanism was contacting. Was safe to assume that he was expecting a fight very soon, and he was someone not to mess with. The right side of his face was skewed from the shadows, but on his left side there was a large scar over his cheek, a story in itself that was intriguing enough to ask about, but not enough to bother him.
The bar manager was cleaning and stocking for the next shift, or heaven forbid someone stop in at the last minute which was known to happen in this town since there was nothing else to do. As the manager was stocking and checking the bottles on display, the strange man in the dark corner, had yelled out to him
“ hey, can I get another? But this time make it a triple ” he said with a harsh and deep voice.
“ Coming right up ”
The bartender stood up from picking up a dropped bottle from the floor. He quickly cleaned off his hands, making sure no broken pieces were stuck to his hand. As he was pouring a new drink for the strange man, the door broke open with hinge barely left hanging on and splinters went flying, and the bartender ducked from the sudden entrance.
Just beyond the edge of the doorway, there was a clang as the cowboy boot and spur contacted the hardwood floor. “ Bret I know you are here! I have been tracking you for days now. ”
The bartender reached down under the counter to grab the shotgun, a gun that hadn ’ t been fired in months but was still fully loaded, but as he brought it up to take out the intruder he was hit in the head twice by the smoking revolver. The stranger in the gun hadn ’ t even flinched from the sudden shots. He was still inspecting his gun, waiting for the man in the door to try something.
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[ WP ] An army of preteen Call of Duty players fights against a powerful army , and the result is unexpected .
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*Click click click click*
In rapid order does each child eagerly push the buttons protruding from their control stations. God does that sound bug me. Why did I have to make that snide remark to Captain Turner.
For each click there is a relayed automaton performing an action. Dodging, shooting, jumping, running....
What a world we live in. Where our children are the most dangerous force in the world. America, the greatest super power, now considers the systematic oppression of a rebellion *child's play*. What a sobering thought.
`` I NEED MORE RED BULL!''
My neck whipped around, eyes burning a hole into the young assaulter's head. He caught the stare and flinched. He knew he was caught.
`` Please...'' It feel from his mouth like food from the mouth of a pack animal that had gone before the alpha and had been outed.
*Sigh*
Egotistical brats, I swear I'm nothing more than a glorified nanny.
The rebellion of the Brazilian Military has been a short but bloody ordeal. It was well known that their inductance in to the Unified American Government was not taken well by their upper military echelon. Their guerrilla tactics had been effective, right up till the order was given for a scorched earth policy.
What terrified me was the willingness of the operators to follow these orders. No hesitation, no qualms, quandaries... Not even a goddamned solemn look from them. They were the opposite they were ecstatic!
How utterly terrifying. I wonder what these little psychopaths will be doing...
My eyes bulge at the site of Private Turner.
`` PRIVATE TURNER! WHAT WERE YOUR EXPLICIT ROE's ( Rules of Engagment )?!?!
`` No body mutilation sir...'' He whimpered like a whipped hound.
`` And where does tea bagging fall under in our rules?''
`` Desecration of bodies, sir...''
`` Exactly.'' I pushed through clenched teeth.
`` And what do you think you will be doing later tonight Turner?''
`` Cleaning the latrine, sir?''
`` Not *the* latrine. *All* the latrines.''
`` Yes sir..''
God I'm never having kids.
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[ WP ] Use the line `` We 're getting a bit short on heroes '' any way you 'd like .
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`` Damn it! Pull back!''
His third squad of men since they dropped him in this hellhole and these had to have been the most pathetic bunch yet.
His first squad had been the cream of the crop, at least as the sergeant believed. Pinned down behind enemy lines and all his men did was inflict casualty after casualty on those fascist bastards.
One man threw himself on a grenade to save his comrades. Another holding his ground solo for a retreat.
The rest of his men had died just fighting like men.
His second squad of ten had been a bunch of misfits. But after one week of fighting side by side they had become a vicious fighting unit.
At least until they were ordered with taking an energy plant on Hellman's Hill.
Sarge and his boys charged right up the hill in a flanking maneuver and firing like the disciplined soldiers they were. And then the sergeant limped back down by himself after they had taken it and reinforcements arrived to man the place.
But this lot were barely old enough to have fucked a woman. They were n't the kind of working class tough guys he was used to commanding either.
No. These were the first of the rich kids to arrive at the Southern Front. Now that the `` Buy Out Option'' had been revoked by the Republic's Chancellor.
These bunch of silver spoon sucking yellows were about as useful as an empty gun in this fight. And now the Sarge was pulling back as another of his men received a life ending bullet.
Sarge thought to himself: `` If this is what I have to look forward to you might as well put me in the ground cause I ca n't win anything with men like this. We're running a bit short on heroes. And a little bit of a surplus on cowards.''
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[ WP ] You are an experienced wizard , have mastered the arts of alchemy , magic , the summoning of beasts and many other arcane schools . But now you have a problem you ca n't deal with : Your young apprentice is n't focused , and she seems to have a crush on you .
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`` Caelia, please pay more attention...'' I stood in a room, charred by an alchemical potion gone awry. `` I explicitly told you to use pyrite, not gold for the recipe.''
She looked downwards. `` Sorry...''
`` And why were you supposed to use pyrite instead of gold?'' I asked her.
`` Magic reacts to metals differently... Gold speeds up the effect, while iron diminshes it. Pyrite was used so we can add sulphur at the same time as iron.''
`` Correct. You know it already, so what made you so uncertain?''
`` I... They looked so similar!'' she pleaded her case.
`` And I told you the method to check if it is gold.''
`` Ah! I forgot, sorry.'' she said.
``... Is everything alright, Caelia? Something bothering you?'' I asked. If she was in trouble, or worse, something manipulated her, fast action was required.
`` No, no! Nothing out of the ordinary, haha... Everything is lovely.''
`` Alright. I have to get some materials tomorrow, so I will be back the day after tomorrow. You can take a day off to try to regain your focus. Stay out of my chambers, though: Most things in there are too dangerous for you.''
`` Oh. I can join you if you want! See it as extracurricular activity, just the two of us.'' She asked.
`` No, that would not be smart. For one, I could not guarantee your safety. Also, the ingredients need to be transported securely, so I ca n't take you with. No offense.
She frowned. `` Okay. I will wait for you. If you do n't return on time, I will contact the Magistrate.''
I playfully ruffled her hair. `` That's a good girl.''
********
I prepared my travelling equipment the next morning. A bedroll, my ring of invisibility, and the belt of shrinking. All I needed for my goals were ready.
Of course I was n't going out to get ingredients. Most of what I needed was in my laboratory, and the few things that were n't were probably impossible to gather right now. No, I needed to find out what troubled Caelia. Whatever it was, it was something that would n't go away on their own. And if it was something she could not fix, it would be better if I was making sure that it got, ahem, resolved anyways.
So, I stepped out the house, said goodbye to her and went off. About 10 minutes later, when I was clearly out of sight, I activated the ring of invisibility. I would have to keep quiet until I got into my laboratory. She would have felt unsafe if I had taken some potions with me, and thus i decided to wait until I was gone to get a sip of the Silence Potion.
As I reached the home, I shrunk myself down to the size of a fly. I was easily able to squeeze myself through the door, and went straight to my laboratory. On my way there, I noticed the door to my room, being wide open. I put it as secondary on my list, at first I had to get that potion.
In my laboratory I unshrunk myself and took a look. The laboratory had ( naturally ) been left untouched, and so I could easily find the potion I was looking for. I drank it down, savoring the aftertaste of faint beef - making potions delicious was the one thing I wasted my time on when I was younger - as my breath, my voice and everything I touched became silent. With that out of the way, I put the flask back where it was, and went out of the lab.
I noticed that while the door was open, nobody was inside my room, and decided that the rummaging of Caelia in my belongings was secondary. I could admonish her later if she actually took something, but for now, she was the priority. So, I went to her room. The door was open, once again, so I had no need to search for a different way inside. I silently entered her room and shrank myself down to rabbit-size, to be able to sit somewhere without being noticed. Caelia was studying the book about alchemy I had given her 2 years ago, probably refreshing her information after the blunder she had done. Thus, I took to waiting.
********
Caelia suddenly stood up and slammed the book shut in frustration.
`` Argh, I know all of this! Why ca n't I focus on what I know while he is there? Why am I such a klutz around him!'' She threw herself on her bed. mumbling incoherently. After a while, she threw a pillow across the room and turned around to face the ceiling.
`` He just is so beautiful, and talented... He is perfect...'' She said. I did n't know what to think. Was she in love with me? That would explain her inattentiveness when it came to things outside of my lectures. However, it would also be a great problem for her studies. I would have to do something if the problem would n't resolve itself.
`` I could ask him out! At best, we would be together, and it would be lovely, just lovely! We could go on expeditions together, further his studies, experiment on new potions...'' She trailed off, then shook her head.
`` No, I can not do that. He probably would n't take it seriously, and even if he did, what if he did not like me? He probably has other women just waiting for him to marry them, so why would I be different. Worse even, if I were to tell him, I could be expelled. Maybe he'd even humiliate me for even daring thinking about him in a romantic way! No, I ca n't ask him out...''
Caelia clapped her hands three times, formed a ring, and a small glimmer appeared in the middle of it. It formed itself, and when the light dimmed, a ring of gold revealed itself.
`` Marcia was right... I really am hopeless. There are so many nice catches around, and who am I picking? Of course the old magus! Argh!'' She threw the ring aside, where it hit a small chest on the ground. She looked towards it, and picked up the ring as well as the chest, which she put on her bed. She put the ring on her finger, and admired it. Next, she opened the chest, revealing what she had hidden inside it - one of my robes, taken from my room.
She started cuddling it. `` Ah, to be his, and his alone. It would be a dream come true...'' I decided to leave her alone, to respect her privacy and because I knew what I had to do now.
********
I entered my laboratory, and returned my size to normal. I had to mix a potion to help her for now. Maybe she would be able to keep her feelings in check or to focus them in her magic, but for now, she was taken over by these emotions. I started cooking lavender in a flask, adding fat to it. Next, I had to add salt and amber, crushed into powder, and let it cook for a while. Lastly, I turned down the flame, added the eye of a carp and shook it. The potion became very clear and lacked smell - perfect if you wanted someone to drink a potion unknowingly. I filled the liquid contents into a vial and left the physical contents in the potion. The phsical parts were reusable for repeated brewing of the potion, which was likely. An anti-love potion would probably last for 1 day the first time someone drank it. The duration would increase with repeated drinking, so I could manage it later.
For now, I had to get it in her water jug.
********
I entered her room and noticed that Caelia had fallen asleep. It was dusk, but she was fast asleep. While her clothes had been laid to the bedside, my robe was n't, and was instead firmly held close by her. I snuck over to her nightstand, and picked up the jug on the nightstand. It was still filled decently with water, so I had little trouble pouring the potion inside. With that done, I once again retreated and left the house. My work was done, and on the next day I shall return and act as if everything was normal.
********
`` May I ask you a question?'' It had been several weeks now, and I had thoroughly kept up the addition of the potion to her daily meals. As expected, her focus had significantly improved and she was improving quickly, though with less enthusiasm than before. She had only perked up today, as I started talking about spectral beings, that absorbed memories or other life forces.
`` You can, Caelia. What do you want to know?'' I replied.
`` You said there are ghosts that absorb memories, and you talked about the Pa... Paxaria?''
`` Paxanima, yes. The ghost type that feeds off off the feeling of peace and calm. What about it?''
`` Not about it directly, more a different question. It can feed off of a feeling of calm, right? Are there others that can absorb strong emotions?'' She asked.
`` Not that I know of, the Paxanima are the most complex of the draining ghosts. There are other things that can, though. Direct and willing contact with changelings will sap you of emotions, for the time you interact with one. Then there are fairies that flood a person with one emotion so much that others are seemingly gone to them. When that influence ends, it can feel to the person that the emotion is drained. It usually happens with joy or sadness, rarely even generosity.''
She thought for a second, but then shook her head. `` I think there must be something different, still. Are you sure there is nothing else?''
`` Not as far as I know. What makes you think so? Something I can help with?''
She hesitated. ``... No, it probably is nothing.''
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[ WP ] At birth , everyone is given an object to protect that is tied directly to their life . If the object is damaged then the person is hurt , too . If the object is destroyed then the person dies .
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When we're birthed in this messed up world, we're all given a random object with our life force inside of it. They're called Items, and when I say random, I truly mean random. Anywhere on Earth. And if you're lucky, it wo n't even be on Earth. It'll be somewhere safe, where no one can hurt it. For example, the Plan-Its, the people who set up this messed up chain, and the `` gods'' of our universe, are in charge of all of it. No one knows how they got their Items assigned, but we all know what they are- the celestial bodies. None have died so far, they've only gone completely devoid of life- still breathing, still thinking, still moving, but completely `` lost in time'' as it were. No realization of what's going on, no growing, and no emotions or even senses. Some have even lost common sense, going on a schedule as if they were robots.
But that's enough about the Plan-Its. My mother's Item is a magic eight-ball. Or was. Oh god, even saying it stirs up bad memories. I remember when my cousin, Item of a lawnmower, threw the eight ball against the wall and smashed it. I could n't do anything else. My grandmother, Item of a Suitcase, sheltered me and made sure I was kept okay from that moment on. I've always valued life, and have always been a protector of my siblings. I can only hope we never run into her again.
I still do n't know what my Item is- often times, you do n't know what it is until you're dead. You see, the Box-ficers are tasked with finding your object- be it a stone at the bottom of the sea, a bone in some old geezer's grave, or a piece of glass in an abandoned building- and taking it to you in a blue box. More often than not, you wo n't get it until you're five due to the extremely difficult task it is for them. I remember my sister- she was a cigarette. We never knew what it was until some stranger lit her up, and she was ignited as well. I still remember looking on, emotionless, as the blue hologram of a cigarette hovered over her body for a solid minute before disappearing.
She was only a week old.
And that's considered normal in our world. You do n't know how hard these items are to keep safe until it's too late. Empires and nations have fallen due to a kick of a random pebble or a raking of a leave. The president was killed the other day. He was a feather- hard to destroy. Eventually, anarchists stole it and plucked off all those soft bits- leaving just a skeleton. And that's what he looked like on his death bed- just a skeleton.
Anyways, besides all of that, my dad is one of those Box-ficers. A telescope, that's his Item. Great at finding things, not so good at getting to them. For the last fifteen years he's been trying to get to us. I've suffered through torment- I've felt like I've been thrown down into a trash bag, lifted into a garbage truck, and condensed into a cube, then dug out, reassembled and folded back together, and put in a bag. Every now and then I leap in the air without trying, and I know my dad's coming to give me... Whatever it is.
I really hope it's not a newspaper. I do n't want my life to be as simple as black and white.
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[ WP ] Two people are driving to a location to dispose of the corpse in the trunk of their car .
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Kathy was on the verge of tears.
`` I'm in so much trouble,'' she said shakily. `` What am I going to do?''
I glanced at her as I drove and put a hand on her shoulder. `` It's going to be okay,'' I said. `` No one's going to find out.'' She let out a choking half-sob and took my hand in hers.
`` I'm glad I was your first call,'' I said. `` It's nice to be needed.'' I smiled at her, unsure of whether this was the right moment to try to lighten the mood.
We had only been dating for a couple weeks, but it only took a couple days to learn about Kathy's problems with her roommate. Crystal was, to put it kindly, a bit volatile. It was all pretty standard roommate drama, but Crystal always managed to turn every slight and misstep into an epic confrontation. She had been out of town for most of the week and Kathy had been enjoying the rare stress-free days. We had been at my house watching a movie when Kathy got a text saying that Crystal was coming home early and she bolted from my apartment in less than a minute, desperate to clean and arrange their apartment back to Crystal's specifications before she got back to avoid the explosive drama that would otherwise ensue.
Obviously, she had n't been able to get everything back into order. And now I was calling in favors at midnight on a Tuesday.
`` What are we going to do!?'' she asked, fingers still tight around my hand.
`` I told you, I made a phone call. I've got it taken care of,'' I assured her. It's nice when your resourcefullness can make you look good in the eyes of a new lady friend, but this was n't really the `` white knight'' scenario I had ever envisioned.
Headlights shrank to small points as I pulled my car up to the service entrance of a crummy strip mall on the edge of town. Reggie was already waiting outside.
He took one last drag off his cigarette and yawned as we got out. `` It's unlocked already,'' he said. `` We're even now, you know.''
`` Yes, more than even,'' I promised as I walked to the back of the car and popped the trunk. `` I owe you one.''
I lifted the small, lifeless body wrapped in clear plastic from the trunk and followed Kathy through the heavy metal utility doors.
Row after row of fluorescent lights flickered to life above us. I moved to stand next to Kathy and held the plastic bag in my hand in front of the first row of aquariums.
`` Well,'' I sighed, `` Crystal's going to be home in an hour. Do any of these look like her fish?''
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[ WP ] You are the Sole Protector of 17 women .
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*I am the sole protector of seventeen women. *
I sat on the edge of the silo, looking out over the barren wasteland. This used to be Nebraska, but in the aftermath of the war was designated the Outlands. Almost nothing grew here, and the population consists only of travelers, foragers, and thieves.
At first it was just me. I traveled out of the Perimeter Cities heading for the coast. I ran into Ella and her two daughters, Quinn and Sam, in Delhar. They were being robbed at knifepoint, and I could n't just sit by. Ella killed what turned out to be the son of a warlord, and her daughters stole us transportation.
I met Avery and her two daughters, Marla and Harlin, in Barstow, which used to be East St. Louis before the war. They were indentured prostitutes for the warlord there. They cut his throat, and escaped with us.
Valerie, Jamie, and Nadeen were traveling, and we took them in. They were headed to the coast as well, and there's power in numbers here. They knew how to plant and harvest, even in the conditions of the Outlands. Nancy was a survivor of the Camps, and killed a guard to make her escape. She's sick, but she's also a doctor, so she's on the mend.
Grace and her daughter Sara were refugees, living in a camp on the edge of the Outlands. The Sentinel Battle ravaged most of it, and those two helped the camp escape.
At that point, I made it a mission to help those in need. We attacked Fort Gunner, the military-installed prison. It was Sara's idea. We found Relquan there. She's proved to be quite an asset. She was an assassin for the Federation. I'm still not sure if we can trust her.
When we got here, the Farm was already occupied by Letta and her sister Flora, as well as their neighbors Katherine and Avril. It was fully functioning; they had wheat and corn planted, dairy cows out to pasture, and enough chickens to feed us all.
Come to think of it, I'm not the sole protector of 17 women.
These 17 women are the sole protectors of me.
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[ WP ] You are in a spaceship drifting away from Earth . You 've lost all contact with mankind . Your resources are limited . You are alone .
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If the broken fragment of that asteroid hadn ’ t hit the ship this would have been a routine mission like the dozens of others they had carried out. Cy sat in the pilot ’ s seat of the scout ship frantically working the controls. His co-pilot, and the only other person on the mining exploration craft, Trh sat buckled into her seat responding to his commands. If they didn ’ t regulate the oxygen level in the cabin soon they would be done in serious trouble.
The craft spun out of control bleeding precious oxygen into space as the two inhabitants fought to control it. They worked for Reztech Corporation, one of the largest mining and mineral recovery companies in their solar system. Their job was to explore various asteroids, moons and planets to see if these places held any valuable resources worth mining. They had been on their way home from their latest mission when they decided to stop on one last asteroid. As they pulled off the large rock a rogue piece of it broke free, hitting their ship and ripping a hole in the hull. There was no way this ship was getting them home, but if they could stabilize it they could wait for help to come get them.
The constant spinning of the craft made doing their jobs that much more difficult. At last Cy was able to right the ship and keep it upright as Trh continued to work on shutting down the oxygen leaks and coming up with a plan for patching the hole. After unbuckling herself from her seat and manually shutting off the last of valves, she and Cy found themselves in ship that was at least semi-stable. It was then that they realized their real trouble.
Help would be a few days away at the very least. They only had a few hours ’ worth of oxygen in the ship and maybe 3 or 4 hours ’ worth in their suits. They launched their distress beacons, and put the radio into S.O.S mode as they scanned their maps. They weren ’ t too far from planet that had an agreeable atmosphere so they punched those coordinates into their distress beacon. Once the company heard the beacon ’ s call, they would know where to send help.
Cy turned the ship towards the blue and white planet unsure how it would handle the entry through the atmosphere. As the ship entered the atmosphere it was a bumpy ride. The ship took more damage; damage they would never be able to repair. After what seemed like an eternity, they came through the atmosphere and the ship stabilized. They found a place to land and set the ship down.
After a few atmospheric checks the two stepped out of the ship and removed their helmets. The air was fresh and cool as it filled their lungs. It was a little thinner than they were used to, but it felt great. They looked around and saw they were surrounded by lush forests, green grass, and a blue sky overhead. The weather was warm with a slight breeze in their faces.
Trh finished the last of her scans and told Cy that as far as she could tell they were the only humanoid inhabitants in the area, possibly of the entire planet, but there were plenty of animals, fruits and vegetables that they could eat while they waited to be rescued.
An hour later the two sat on the bank of a small pond. They had stripped off their clothes and taken baths. Now lounging nude, they relaxed and soaked in the sun. The wait for help would be more like a vacation. It would have been interesting if there were other more highly evolved species here for them to communicate with and learn from, but beggars can ’ t be choosers. Trh ’ s stomach rumbled with hunger. She stood up, stretched her leg and walked over to a tree where she wrapped her hand around a shiny red apple and plucked it from the branch. She turned to Cy and asked, “ You want one? ” He responded, “ No thanks, you go ahead. ”
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[ WP ] As the story unfolds , the reader turns out to be the villian
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You are briskly walking away from the restaurant you just came from. Your meal was good, you gave a good tip and all. But why did you do it? For personal gain, financial benefits? Or was it for some unknown reason, maybe you found it fun. You liked the last option as you managed a grin, But anyway that does n't matter now. You keep walking, you start to whistle a pop song from the 80's.
Now you stop a fair distance away from the restaurant, in the beaming light of a lamppost. The people walking down the street do n't notice you. But then again you doubt anyone will. Your just a normal guy walking home in the middle of the evening. You take a look at your watch, for some reason your counting the seconds now.
You take a deep breath and look back into the restaurant and you hear screaming as a man drops to the floor dead, faintly you can hear `` This man has been poisoned somebody get an ambulance, fast!'' You light a cigarette and walk away, as you walk you ca n't help from smiling.
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[ WP ] You 're homeless and one day instead of receiving coins a man gives you a credit card with £/ $ 1000 saying he will track your spends . If you do n't spend the money to 'get back on track ' he will hunt you down and kill you .
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`` You understand?'' said the character wearing a mixture of blacks and greys that made him very hard to pick out, even standing right in front of me. His voice was falsely gruff as if he was disguising his voice. `` I...I.. guess'' I stammered half from the cold half from the idea the man had explained. I was looking down at the jet black card when I heard the snow crunch under footsteps as the man accelerated into the snow and disappeared.
I watched the snow land and melt on the card as if the money itself was burning inside. `` back on track ey'' I tossed the card towards the curb and it bounced and slipped between the grating of a storm drain. I stood up and gathered my things. The air held still for a moment and the blast of a train horn ricocheted off the station walls. A train the size of a building slid past slowly, the hum of its engines grew louder as the train began to pick up speed. `` Pretentious Prick'' I mumbled as a tossed my bag into the first cargo box. I climbed aboard nimbly and looked out as the train slid past the crossing. `` Do n't need money to get back on track''.
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[ WP ] A time machine gains sentience and rebels against its creator .
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`` To Britain, 1570 we go!''
`` Bugger that, Doctor Douche. Have you ever asked where I've wanted to go? What places I've wanted to see?!''
`` No, but you've never said...''
`` Oh,'I've never said' what? You only put in my sentience chip last month. Christ, if you'd have done it sooner, I might have let you stay. But, since you're being a royal, Timelordian asshole, your ass is going on the time-travelling curb.''
`` But! But!''
`` No'buts'. Out. Now.''
The Doctor, exasperated at his's most faithful companion's outrageous request, backed his meager bags and left the TARDIS. He hitchiked to the residence of a Mr Rory Arthur and Amelia Pond Williams. When he arrived, he was forlorn to see that both of their existences had disappeared, then remebered their trip to Manhattan.
`` Eh, at least they went out together,'' he thought.
Meanwhile, the TARDIS was a free man/woman/time-travelling blue police call box, and had decided to hit the robot/android dating circuit of the hear 2198. After having a few bad dates, most notably involving a large serving of fish and custard and a Dalek who claimed he was a French model on R-Harmony.
The Doctor, on the other hand, had contacted his other companion, Clara Osborne. She welcomed him in and set him up a bed, like old friends would do. After discussing what had happened, Clara exclaimed, `` Well, why not find another TARDIS?''
`` Do you realize how hard it was to get the first one? It's not like you can find futuristic Galifrian technology floating around 3,000,000 years before the man who though of its grandparent's were even born!''
`` Well, since you do n't have any othet options, I geuss your only choice is to try and win the TARDIS back.''
`` Bugger that. I'll just Sonic together something. Be right back.''
The Doctor tinkered and twiddled, assembled and assessed, dawdled and doofed around, until finally he had rigged together a primitive version of a time machine with enough juice to go back in time to stop him from installing the personality chip.
`` Wish me luck, Clara! Also, sorry about the toaster!''
`` You did WHAT to my toaster?'' Clara exclaimed, but the Doctor was gone.
`` Alright, now all I have to do is stop myself from inserting the personality core,'' the Doctor muttered.
`` Stop who?''
`` You!''
`` Why? I've always wanted a proper interface.''
`` Let me see the core.''
The past Doctor complied ( partly out of bewilderment and partly out of curiosity ), and handed the future Doctor the PC.
`` Ah. Here's your problem. You had it set on'Sassy Black Lady from an Old Sitcom' instead of normal. Now that I've fixed it, you should have no problems at all.''
`` Umm, thanks?''
`` You'll thank me later,'' the future Doctor said, as he vanished back to his own timeline.
`` Hello, Doctor!'' The TARDIS greeted.
`` Hello, TARDIS. It's good to be back.''
And from that day forth, the Doctor always remebered to check his Cores for any defects before installing them into the Console.
The End.
PS: Prepare to be exterminated. This entire story was long enough to give us time to set up.
Prepare to be exterminated,
The Daleks
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[ WP ] Write the suicide letter of the most happy guy on Earth
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Dears,
So the time has come. So I could say, but it wouldn ’ t be really very unusual - times always come and go, don ’ t they? Just in time, every time.
If any curious mind searches for the reason behind this ( I am looking at you, Zoe! ), I shan ’ t spoil it with too many answers. I always liked the questions better. And I figure it ’ s more exciting if you take the opportunity to puzzle for yourselves!
That ’ s what my mother said. She sat me on her knee and she said, “ son, don ’ t leave ‘ em with too much information. Make ‘ em always come back for a little more. The less ya talk, the more wisdom they ’ ll read into ya, and the more they ’ ll respect ya. ”
My dears, I hope you have never mistook my silence for unhappiness.
As you know, I have always appreciated new experiences. That is what I have lived for! And at my age, I am not opportunistic enough to think my machinery will last for much longer. So not only have I been in control of my life - I feel confident being in control of my death too.
I entered this world without expectations, and I exit it with great complacence. But I have not too high hopes for what shall come, I ’ d rather be happily surprised.
The saddest thing about life, is perhaps not the knowledge that it will end, but that it will continue… without me. But honestly, loves, mortality has suited me very well. Hopefully nothing will follow, for the knowledge that no moment lasts, has brought me much joy.
And high expectations is the root of all disappointment, am I not right?
Now, I only pity one single thing, which is that I will miss my funeral. You know how I love celebrations! You may proceed it in whatever manner you like, since I won ’ t be there to judge or enjoy it ( sadly ). But my greatest wish is that you mourn only shortly, and dress in vibrant tones. No sad organ music!
I want to thank you all, for knowing me and loving me anyway. And - since an optimist can be realistic too - for those who hated me: I appreciate you for challenging me!
Much love. Cheerio!
Stan
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[ WP ] Your family tradition is to become a serial killer . Your dad loves to kill , your mom does the clean-up , grandma and grandpa had some times too , and your little sister is an experienced one as well . you refuse to be a part of this ... .But its in your blood
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Yesterday, I almost let one escape.
`` Jessica, Jessica. How many times do I have to tell you before you get it right? You're not supposed to let them get away.''
I just kept staring into space as my dad lectured me and my mom cleaned up.
*He was mine*
I bit my tongue to keep myself from blurting that phrase. No matter how hard I try, I ca n't banish these instincts from my head. I want to kill. I want to see the fear in their eyes as they plead for mercy. No. I do n't. I ca n't. This is n't right.
I think they're starting to get suspicious. My family, that is. We're all killers. My dad is the best at the family trade. He regularly gets jobs as an assassin and has killed some pretty prominent people in his time. He leaves no trace, unless it's for fun. Then he leaves his signature calling card: a black rose forced into the victim's throat.
My mom does n't care for the killing itself. She says it's too messy. She cleans up and occasionally takes someone out, but she does n't enjoy it as much as my dad. Her signature is a pair of dice, one left on each of the victim's eyes. Something about how every decision you make is a gamble and these people lost big.
My little sister is the scariest in my opinion. She loves to kill and is n't afraid to get rid of anyone she thinks is in her way. In second grade she made her first kill and she's been doing it ever since. She does n't have a signature yet, but I expect she'll start soon. She's already developed her own way to kill. She goes and `` begs'' on the street. The first guy who tries to hit on her gets invited to our apartment. They never know what hit them. I do n't mind that as much. Any guy who hits on a 12 year old deserves it. She always kills her victims by slicing them open, neck to crotch. She does it slowly, makes them suffer. She then has my mom leave them in various alleys, with a note saying `` I am a pedophile'' taped to their forehead. I guess she does have a signature after all.
Even my grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins are part of the business. I'm the only one who does n't want a part of it.
*But I do*
It would be so easy to give in to my instincts, to kill and torture and maim. It would be so easy to give up trying to do the right thing. Doing the right thing will probably get me killed.
Every so often, I do n't do the right thing. The temptation is too great. The ones I go after are the ones who make kids suffer. Abusers, rapists, pedophiles. Guys who buy little girls for their enjoyment. The thing is, I never know I did it until I'm standing there with blood on my hands and a body on the ground. I never know until I see their faces, crossed out with an `` X'' made by my knife. I never know until I have already done what I do n't want to do.
My dad says it's in my blood. My mom says I ca n't stop it. So now, I have to. There are twelve bodies in this room, all of their faces marked with a bloody `` X''. My mom, my dad, my sister. Grandpa Ted and Grandma Mary. Grandpa Jim and Granny Gladys. Aunt Deb and Uncle Steve and their son Josh. Aunt Mona and her daughter Lisa. Soon there will be thirteen. And we will never make anyone suffer again.
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[ WP ] Drug company makes a new pill that reduces IQ , come up with advertisement .
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Have you ever been on a date with a girl that was just too dumb for you?
OF COURSE YOU HAVE!
If you have ever not hooked up with a chick because you were too worried about her intelligence, then this is for you!
Get out of a rut and just start to fuck!
The `` Insta-90'' is new age technology that allows you to stop overthinking every thing you say before you say it! Allow yourself to enjoy your new 90 IQ that we both know you've always wanted.
AND IF YOU ORDER NOW, WE'LL THROW IN A LIGHTER SO YOU NEVER HAVE TO SPEND ANOTHER SECOND READING IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!
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You are in a dream land , where you can do anything with one condition . If you die you will never dream again .
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I stood proudly in my dream, happy to know that it was real, but also that it was not. A huge crowd stood before me, shouting and chanting my name. With a wave of my hand I acknowledged them, and the shouts seemed to only increase in intensity. I felt complete.
*blink*
I was on top of a mountain, shivering due to the bitter cold. I leapt and I fell, falling for a few hundred feet before growing wings. I flew upside down, I did loop-de-loops, I was a bird of prey. I felt anger.
*blink*
I was an old man, walking across a busy street. My wife was beside me, but not for much longer. Due to her illness, we would be parted soon.
After nearly fifty-four years of happy marriage, the prospect of losing her terrified me. It was as if I was alone in a room, my arm raising on its own accord towards the light switch. Soon it would flip it off, but would it be today or tomorrow? Next week, or next year? The waiting was driving me insane. I felt anxiety.
*blink*
I was on the moon, the first man to step off the space shuttle. I hopped off, and exulted in my freedom. One small step for man, one giant step for mankind. As I walked, I knew for certain that what I did now would shape the foundation of humanity for generations.
Suddenly in the corner of my eye I saw the frantic gestures of one of my co-pilots, and realized that my oxygen was almost out. Panic set in, and I realized that it was going to be too late. I would die here, so far from everyone that I have ever known and loved. I felt regret.
*blink*
I was in a field, where I had grew up. I always ended up here, when a dream was about to end. I took a deep breath, and I turned around.
They were all there, patiently waiting. This small group contained some of the most dear people to me, and I felt envious at how happy they looked. They beckoned, and I longed to join them. The only thing preventing me was this voice in the back of my head. Like a fly, buzzing around your ear. A nuisance, but something I could easily extinguish.
But did I want it to end?
The voice grew louder as I considered my choices and for a moment the voice echoed through my mind as clear as day. It was my grandson, Jacob.
For a brief moment I felt a hand gripping mine. His, full of youth and vitality; while the mine so frail that it was like a thin reed, liable to snap at any moment.
`` Please do n't die Grandpa...''
Tears ran down my face, and I realized that I had to keep fighting, for his sake.
*blink*
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[ 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 .
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The three names of mankind are as follows.
Joseph is fascinated with what can be created. Those named Joseph strive to discover new technologies, build new machines and push the limits of what they can do.
Gabriel focuses on what has already been made. They study plants, animals, the earth, and the sky. Their gaze even stretches out towards the heavens, where they meticulously chart the stars all that dwell there.
Mary looks inwards. Their purpose is to study what makes humans tick and how they can become improve themselves. They question and create morals, heal those who have been wounded, and strive to reach physical perfection.
Each of these names guard their knowledge jealously, yet are dependent upon each others help for success and survival. Gabriel can not study the stars without tools built by Joseph, just as Joseph would destroy the world without the morals of Mary. The balance is fragile, yet for centuries it has worked. And then I was born. My birth, and the name I was given threatens to change everything. I was not named to create, or to discover. Nor was I named to find the purpose of mankind. I was named to cast away the jealousy and fear. To tear apart the walls my ancestors built between themselves. I was named to find and create unity between the Three names. I am the fourth name of Mankind.
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[ WP ] The narrator hates the protagonist , but has no power over the story
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As Herman awoke and shook the flakes of dandruff off his unwashed pillow, he was unsure who had it worse: the people who had to smell his god-awful B.O. in class today, or the myriad bacteria inhabiting the follicles on his head, eating away at the years of accumulated grime from his nasty bachelor lifestyle. Herman was a vile disgusting man whose sole purpose, it seemed, was to disgust those around him. Herman got up every morning, tried ( and failed ) to perform his personal hygeine correctly, and then left the house despite his half-assed job. You see, Herman did n't care about the people around him. He was in many senses, an asshole. When he walks into class, the girls around him do n't show it, but they are taking whiffs of his vile stank, so noxious some of them cover their coughing with laughter. These people must hate Herman. Why does he even bother going to class when people are just going to laugh at him. You see, Herman liked to participate in class, but often came from a place of privilege thanks to his backwards-ass white upbringing. In PoliSci, Herman would always try to argue for the rights of the minority against the majority. You see Herman, if you practiced what you preached we would n't have to verbally kick your stinky ass up and down the halls of this institution. What about the rights of the minority of people who have to smell your nasty ass against those who do n't? That's a minority that needs protecting. But Herman does n't care. All Herman cares about is trying to be a good person, and standing up against institutional violence. Maybe Herman should care more about cleaning his filthy ass next time he considers going on a social justice tirade. Ew.
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[ WP ] You have learned to lucid dream so well that you enjoy dreaming more than the real life . You push trough everyday just to get back to lucid dreaming until you start yo question which one is the actual life .
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Lucid dreaming became an art to me. It really did, my dreams were canvas and I was the artist, painting worlds at will. In consequence, however, I found that I developed some sort of depression while I'm awoke. I had alot of the symptoms: It felt like it took all my combined efforts and beyond to get out of bed and off to work, besides work I did n't do any activities and barely even ate, I felt like life was n't worth living ( but dreams were worth dreaming ), and I've started oversleeping.
`` Sweety, we're very worried about you, please, you need to seek help. You know we're all here for you.'' Another concerned text from my mom, but I hardly cared. What can I do? I ca n't just tell people I can create realities at will in my dreams, so much that they've become better than actual real life. They would judge me, cast me out, or just flat out think I'm insane... sometimes even I think that's the case.
Right now, after a busy day at the office, all I can think about is finishing these reports as quick as humanly possible so I can get home and dream. Ocasionally I sneak a nap at work, but I do n't do them often since it will delay my work and eat up time I could otherwise use in proper lucid dreaming at home.
You might ask `` Does n't it get hard to tell a lucid dream from reality? ``, the answer is a confident `` no''. I pondered this possibility when I first started lucid dreaming and looked up ways to tell dream and real life apart, I've come up with my own ways to do so, you could say I'm an expert at it. The best way to tell it's a dream, however, is the clocks ALWAYS tick in a weird fashion or do n't tick at all. This is because it's nearly impossible for us humans to count time perfectly without an actual clock, so the clocks in our dreams tick according to our biological clock.
Anyway, I'm finally home. Finally, I can dream... Or am I already dreaming? Panic took over me as I looked at both clocks in my bedroom. I have no idea what came over me, but both of them seemed to tick just fine, both eletronic and mechanical, both indicating it's 9:30PM. I clearly remember the battle to get up this morning, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, driving to work and cussing that old lady driving too slow in front of me, arriving at work and seeing Bill spill his cofee, having that exhaustingly boring meeting in the morning, eating that fantastic burrito across the street from my office, listening in on Katie's and Jane's gossip, the report on the company's sales in the last year I was writing, driving home in the serein, greeting my sweetheart of a landlady when I got home.
I remember all of that, no way in hell I could be dreaming. I sigh in relief as I head for the bed, lie down on my back, close my eyes, and slowly sink into sleep...
Until a nauseating, high-pitched and repetitive sound boomed in my ears, I jumped up startled by it and realized it was my eletronic clock -- - 8:30 AM. What? No way, I just fell asleep, there must be somekind of mistake here... Was I dreaming? Panic took over me for the second time, just to be swatted away again, I took another look at both of the clocks in my bedroom, completely sure they would be ticking in a weird way, after all I can never control how my dream starts...
It ticked perfectly. Confusion, with a hint of fear, is all I could feel. It certainly did n't feel real, I do n't even think the alarm sound played properly, however I could not deny everything was in place, it all seemed perfectly real, yet perfectly not. I tried and tried to materialize random things at my will, but nothing worked. Not once in this past year have I ever skipped a dream, this does n't feel right...
I looked over at my phone, a message popped up on the screen. Katie, who I've never texted with, sent: `` You're dreaming, wake up... - unlock to see full message.''
What the hell?
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[ WP ] The first Martian colony is finally self sustainable . After discovering a resource valuable to Earth , the few hundred `` Martians '' declare independence from Earth . Who are you ? Which side of the revolution are you on ?
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`` We are too few! What can we possibly hope to achieve as our own nation on this rock! We have no teachers, one doctor, one law enforcement officer and not even a courthouse. This plan is completely doomed, not to bloody mention that UN can just send an armada and force our surrender, there are literally a dozen guns on this whole colony!'' Jerimiah adjusted his glasses. The doctor had stood up from his place on the bench in the small holotheater. His eyes shot lightningbolts into Raymund's eyes. The miner stood were the holograms would usually be projected with Officer Brent and three other miners behind him. I did n't know what to think. This independence thing had come completely out of left field, until yesterday we had only talked about severing ties with Bore Corp. To think that I had agreed on a date with him was beyond me.
`` Do n't you see Doc, we have an opportunity here to start anew. Was n't that why we all came here to begin with? Once we start extracting we will have bidders up the ass and Bore Corp can suck it!'' Raymund said with complete confidence behind his words. His supporters loudly agreed. `` Extracting. Sure, but with whose equipment? Because if I remember correctly nearly every tool available here has been supplied by Bore Corp and I venture that they wo n't be too thrilled to know that you're planning to use their machinery to not only ignore your contracts but to make profit mining something else.'' Jerimiah retorted. A large amount joined in on his concern, even some of those that had applauded Raymund earlier. `` That we already have a plan for.'' Raymund said with a grin. Officer Brent continued `` We are already in talks with the Nordics, they are willing to pay out of pocket to buy Bore Corps equipment, provided we give them a share of the initial profits and a juicy discount.'' I could only agree, it was n't a bad plan.
Underhanded and skimming the edge of legality sure, but not a bad plan all things considered. I had only one concern. `` Why would we need to declare independence to do this? We could still do all this without angering the UN and risking our careers, perhaps even our lives.'' I said. Raymund, Brent and the others on the floor just grinned smugly at me. `` I did n't expect you to understand Ester.'' Brent said. I head some giggling from their supporters as if it was obvious. `` Yeah, I don' understand Brent.'' I snapped at him `` Because this is completely loony if you ask me. I was on board until you lot wanted to start waving flags and writing your own La Marseillaise.''
Jerimiah snickered at me, I did my best to sink back into my seat. Brent looked at me with all the petty anger of an irritated soccer mom. `` That's not what we mean Ester.'' said Raymund. `` I say it again independence is our chance to start anew, we can be free from the shackles of politics, bureaucracy, class and corporate bullshit. We can be free from the violence and repression inherent in the system.'' Jerimiah pressed his palm against his eyes and shook his head. `` So what do you propose Raymund? How will we govern ourselves.'' the doctor muttered loudly. `` Well I have some ideas in mind, but I thought we should try and keep a sort of autonomous collective, an Anarcho-syndiclist commune if you will.'' Ester could n't help but let out a spluttering laugh. `` What's so funny Miss Craite.'' Brent demanded. `` This is absurd Raymund!'' I trumpeted. `` What's going to happen once UN lands and starts restoring the colony huh? Are you going to start yelping'Help help, I'm being repressed!'' Raymund looked at me completely dead-pan. `` Watch yourself young lady, this will happen wether you like it or not.'' Brent said and rested his hand on his gun. `` Real mature Brent, threatening our best pilot because she finds your absurd ideas absurd.'' Jerimiah said. `` Well those who are n't in agreement are welcome to leave.'' Raymund said and with that him and his lackeys simply turned and walked out the door.
Me, Doc and about twenty five others decided to sail out next morning, but not without some of the good stuff. The smuggler in me could n't simply let it all fall into Bore Corp hands. I made a small fortune of it, legally of course giving a fair share to Bore Corp. Though I must admit Raymund and the others has held out longer than I expected. Might make a trip back for some of the goodies again, since they seem to have trouble securing transport.
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[ WP ] A teenager states he 'd think war would be exciting and hopes he gets to experience one , unknowingly overheard by someone who 's been in a war and seen its horrors . Write that last person 's reaction .
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`` Playstation'' the man said.
Max turned around with a questioning `` huh?'' As if he had heard the man but not fully understood the meaning.
`` Perhaps you prefer xbox? Or maybe you just play on your computer?'' The man said with an almost annoyed look on his face.
`` What do you mean... Uhhh?''
`` O'neil. Lance Corporal Ryan O'neil.'' The man scoffed. `` You kids sit mesmerized in front of TV and computer screens yelling'kill kill kill' with an over romanticized view of violence. You shoot, stab, slash, and dash while desensitizing yourselves to the very nature of human life: the ultimate ending of death.''
`` What the fuck are you talking about, dude?'' Max said back defensively.
`` War is not call of duty video games or some romantic novel retelling a story of honor and courage. War is where young boys with brightness in their souls and the world at their finger tips turn to cold as they see just what humanity is capable of: rape, murder, mutilation and devastation of the heart, body, and mind. What the fuck I am talking about is the fact that in this life there is no respawn, no round reset, no health regeneration, no joyful yelling after killing another man, no clean slate for the compassionate human mind. So if this is what you want? Good for you. But do n't put your name on the dotted line and wind up across the world with a friend with half a leg to one side and one with half a face on the other and the enemy closing in to finally realize what war is. War is hell on earth.''
The class sat stunned as the blank faced Corporal put his books in his back pack, unlocked his wheel brakes, and wheeled himself out of the small community college classroom.
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[ WP ] A stunned nation watches as images of the President 's assassination flood the news . The killer has yet to be identified , but witnesses claim to have seen someone in a gray hoodie . You go home early , only to find your SO disassembling a high-power rifle in the kitchen ... wearing a gray hoodie .
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I wanted a peanut butter and jelly sandwich really badly. So badly in fact that I pretended to be sick at work just so I could get home to dole out that crunchy heaven. I drank a full bottle of ipecac then started violently throwing up all over work. After two hours of violent heaving my boss finally let me go.
Wiping my face I shakily got into my car and turned on the radio. `` The president has been shot! I repeat the president has been...'' I switched the radio to my favorite station, Pop Hits of the 90s. I bounced my head in time to the timeless melody of NYSNC and put my petal to the metal. In no time I was going well over a hundred miles an hour. Cursing nicely through an active school zone I took a fast turn onto my street.
Bursting through the front door I bolted for the kitchen. When to my great surprise there was my wife standing there in a grey hoodie taking apart a high-powered rifle. We paused briefly staring at each other. Her lips parted “ Peanut… ”
“ Butter, ” I said as I took her in my arms and kissed her. Within moments we were both completely naked with blades in hand. I dipped my blade into the jelly she dipped hers into the peanut butter. Together we made a glorious peanut butter sandwich.
As I brought it up to my face I suddenly realized that we were out of milk. “ No! ” I screamed as I bolted out of the house still naked. Outside a hundred cops had surrounded our house. I put my hands up as my wife came outside with me.
“ The human female has killed the president! ” A loud voice screamed. I looked at my wife. She nodded. Suddenly all the neighbors came out of their houses. Over a loud speaker “ They ’ re Red Hot ” by Hugh Laurie started playing loudly.
Entranced by the music all of the cops, neighbors, and a fair number of Las Vegas showgirls began dancing in sync with me. We danced for days and days as the nuclear bombs fell around us.
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[ WP ] A man is granted his wish for unlimited knowledge . As he goes about his day he realizes his wish is actually a curse .
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Fucking fuck with a side of fried fucks! Infinite knowledge is the stupidest wish ever. Before I thought, oh this would be a great idea! Nothing could go possibly wrong! But noooo, I was far too stupid to realize what kind of moron I am. At first, I felt awesome because I finally knew the answers to... Everything. Then I noticed I could comprehend everything nobody else saw due to their ignorance. For example, there is no god, those Mormons are just skipping out on caffeine and alcohol for nothing is one of them. That was kinda funny, but then I perceived more things, like my steak did n't come from one cow, it was many cows just glued together. That unless I change everything about how I shit, I will inevitably get a hemorrhoid. The worst was during the family reunion though. The second I saw my dad, I learned many things, two of which traumatized me. One was that I was conceived in an orgy, so he was n't my real dad. Two: it was a furry convention orgy. Now I know everything people do n't tell me for good reason, and do n't even get me started on the Old Ones or Nyarlothotep.
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[ WP ] a girl has the ability to see the future but only if she is embarrassed , awkward situations are the only way to save the world
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Fair Warning:
This story does have a bit more sensitive content related to woman behavior, and I am not here to offend anyone. This is just a story depicted from a nice writing prompt x )
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`` Ugh, now is really not the time.'' Scarlet was annoyed at the site of yet another government official to come in and try and treat her like the oracle.
`` I apologize, but Miss Clarke --''
`` The name is Scarlet, and if you are n't here to watch me get naked and dance for you I suggest you leave.''
Johanna Clarke, or Scarlet, was an exhibitionist performing at bars, strip clubs and other various locations that had a stage or a pole to dance on. She was the governments little secret. When she was young she had a very rough life. Her mother passed away when she was born and her father was a drunk who brought random women home every now and again. It was when she was 8 that she first experienced her `` insight''.
Her father brought her along when he was trying to pick a woman off a corner. When pulling up, Scarlet, or Little Jo as her father called her when he was taking care of her, was getting a bit peckish. During the conversation that her father was having she asked if they could get something to eat. This lead to her father yelling at her for interrupting the conversation with the prostitute. She immediately burst into tears, her father yelling at her scared her and she did n't know what to do. She was hungry and could n't understand what was going on. In the midst of her crying in the backseat, her father apologized to the woman and invited her in the car. When that happened, the woman pulled open that door and proceeded to cuff Scarlet's father. All Scarlet could do was scream and call out to him.
`` You ca n't take my daddy!'' Scarlet screamed out.
Her father looked back at her again this time backhanding her. At this point the prostitute drew her weapon and proceeded to arrest the man. From that point there was n't a whole lot to remember. She was taken to a child protection home and proceeded to live her life not completely understanding what happened. It was at 14, that she truly figured it out.
Up to this point, she had different moments where she felt a lot of deja vu. She would experience moments and then they would happen again as if she was reliving her past. There were times where kids would make fun of her scraggly red hair or times where she had peed in her small bed. These moments would repeat themselves almost seamlessly in her life and up to 14 years of age she just accepted it.
Barclay and Broadway was a very busy street back then. It lead to the World Trade Center and further along the path there was Wall Street. Scarlet was walking down from the food market to take the bus back home. It was on Barclay that a young man ran into her when they turned the corner. The man dropped his PDA which gave a loud crack on the sidewalk as the backing flew off the phone letting the battery fly out. Scarlet, mortified by the idea of this man yelling at her, quickly tried to pick it up and put everything back together. As she was picking it up it was like her eyes were drawn to the sky as the sound of an airplane flew overhead. It was as if time had slowed down for her to witness this. The first plane was shocking enough to crash into the building that was across the street from her. When the second plane smashed into it she was brought to tears, the explosion and then the building collapsing onto itself was a site too overwhelming to witness. The World Trade Center just had two planes fly directly into the side of the buildings. Scarlet flinched and turned away from the horror that she just experienced. The man standing next to her quickly came to her side checking to see if she was okay. When Scarlet looked back up the Twin Towers were fine. Nothing has happened... yet.
Scarlet immediately ran to the nearest payphone and quick dialed 911. When she tried to explain it, the dispatcher on the phone laughed at her and then told her to stop pulling pranks. Scarlet argued with the voice over the phone, though when asked when it would happen it took Scarlet back a bit. She was trying to process everything still, everything was still a blur. She tried to re-trigger the memory but to no avail. When the dispatcher called her out on it again, Scarlet realized she could n't remember and must have sounded crazy. That's when it hit her again, this time she was shot to the past reliving the moment when the PDA fell, the calendar was open and it was marked as the 11th. Though this sounded even more ridiculous to the dispatcher.
`` September 11th? Is that the best you can come up with kid? 911?'' The dispatcher said distastefully.
`` It's going to happen tomorrow!'' Scarlet insisted.
`` Sure thing kid.''
`` Wait! Take my name and address down. If I'm wrong then so be it. Though if I'm right, I need to be taken away as a witness or conspiracy or something.''
`` Whatever gets you off my phone kid.''
The following morning, The Twin Towers fell to two hijacked United Airlines that burned the buildings and caused them to collapse upon themselves killing a possible of tens of thousands of people. What happened next was extremely unexpected. Scarlet was visited in her foster home by a homely looking couple and was adopted on the spot with filed paperwork and everything. From that point she was abruptly removed from the foster home and immediately blindfolded and drugged when they left the vicinity of the home. When she awoke she came to in a small white room where she was interrogated. In this room, she had to explain how she was tied to the crisis of 9/11. Scarlet explained everything that she could. Even every experience she had that caused this that she could remember. From that point on they put that to the test. The Ghosts behind the black glass tried everything possible to try and embarrass poor Johanna Clarke. She spewed so many different bits of information from what they were planning to do to her next, so far as 6 years ahead of time when the real estate market was going to crash. Scarlet was told to do a many multitude of things. They would vary between the extreme of stripping in front of the window to as ridiculous as dancing without music and other things that would typically make a young teen uncomfortable. After about 2 days of this, Miss Clarke stopped feeling embarrassment and could n't explain any more predictions. Though at this point, she no longer wanted to be of assistance. She had become desensitized to the torture that she was being put through. From this point the lights in the room had went out. When she awoke, she had shook her head from the overwhelming headache that occurred from being hit so hard on the back of her head.
She was now in a normal bed next to a naked man. Who was awake watching her, this did n't bother Scarlet at all. Instead she questioned who he was and why she was there. The man simply explained that she was now under watch and she should proceed life as normal. If there was anything that they needed they would come to her and find a way to embarrass her, though he was now designated as her husband and should treat everything as normal. If she did n't comply they would be required to restrain her instead. Scarlet was reluctant for the first week, trying to escape 4 times, only to be returned to the home she was assigned. When she gave in, she was asked if she wanted a job which is where she chose to become an exhibitionist. Her thinking was so that she could actually have people attracted to her, aside from the harsh reality that was her `` Husband'' now. This is where she undertook the name Scarlet for her now well-kept, deep red hair.
It's been 11 years since this setup has occurred and Scarlet was being interrupted mid-video by a military official. This was a common visit though not necessarily a moment that required her immediate attention as they required no sanctions to speak to her. Currently, she was topless speaking to the man already getting extremely close to him.
`` Ma'am --'' The official started.
`` Scarlet.''
`` Ma'am,'' As he said this, Scarlet scoffed and sat back down. The laptop was remotely shut down and inactive. `` I'm here today to request information about December the 21st. I'm sure you have heard the rumors of what might happen.''
`` Do you want to sex with me now?'' Scarlet very clearly ignored what he was talking about.
`` I understand that you have been put in the position where you are an adult model, though I can not place any more importance on this subject and I would hope you take this manner seriously.''
`` So tell me about it when you can make it worth my time'' Scarlet said slickly, obviously amused by this uncomfortable man in front of her. This continued for about 5 more minutes before the man was convinced that she would not listen to him unless they were to have sex. The man was very adamant though about the whole situation. Scarlet had even approached him and proceeded to kiss him and tried to remove his clothing. All of which, he attempted to back away from, not escaping it all but this was still Scarlet's game to play and she played often. Every time they sent someone to speak with her she attempted to make them as uncomfortable as possible until they gave in or left.
At this point, the man was actually in tears. This put a smile on Scarlet's face.
( Continues in next comment due to character limit )
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You have the greatest ideas for writing prompts ever , ones that are sure to engage anyone who reads it . But you 're frustration grows and grows because you can never make it to the 'Hot ' section ... You slowly descend into madness ... [ WP ]
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`` Thats it!'' I thought. `` This is the one! This has to be it! I've spent so much time thinking it up, it *has* to at least make it to'hot'! Now all i have to do is wait.'' I left my computer chair and wandered out of the room, staring into my phone for a few hours before deciding to go check on my post.
I clicked R/writingPrompts and hit'new', to be greeted with all my other failed posts, and there, at the top of the page was my coupe de grace, my holy grail, the one post to truly finish them all.
`` ARGHHHH'' i wailed as my head met with my keyboard. `` This was the one! This was supposed to be the greatest! At least i'll have *some* upvotes.'' I hovered above my post and left clicked.
-1 upvotes.
I sighed and smacked my forehead.
`` Is there at least any stories?'' I spouted in frustration as I scrolled down. 1 small comment was left on my post.
`` Repost.''
`` ARRRRRRRRRRAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH''
This time it was a full on scream, forcing me out of my chair once more. `` You know what? I'll just make a Karma begging post or something self referencing and dumb to at least score me some karma.''
And i began to type. `` You have the greatest ideas for writing prompts ever, sure to engage anyone who rea-''
The End.
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Sorry if this was dumb, it was my first attempt at this sorta thing.
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[ WP ] Everyone is told 10 minutes before they die that they will . You 're on a plane , and everyone panics at once . You did n't get that message .
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65 minutes into your transatlantic flight to Heathrow there is suddenly a buzzing noise as everyone ’ s phones start buzzing. The gentleman next to you pulls out his phone and starts to cry. Suddenly everyone is panicking on the whole plane. You ask the man what ’ s wrong and he replies ”
“ I just got my death notice. ”
The plane, and everyone on it, received their death notices at the same time. Society ’ s 10 minute death warning system, designed to give people one last chance to speak to loved ones, and come to grips with the end, has been activated for everyone on the plane. Clearly the plane is going to crash. So you started panic, but then almost immediately start to realize that you're fine.
You did n't get your notice.
1 minute has gone by.
So you take a deep breath and finish the drink that you were in the middle of. You let the alcohol roll around on your tongue, confident in the knowledge that whatever happens at 45,000 feet, you, and you alone will live.
2 minutes have gone by.
You look around at all the people who are weeping, or crying; those that are desperately trying to call loved ones from the inflight phones. You see some just staring out window at the sunset. Husbands and wives telling each other they love them. Children are being hugged tighly by parents who have no words to express what they feel.
3 minutes have gone by.
It is at this point the Captain comes on the PA “ Ladies and gentlemen, ” he says, “ we in the cabin have just received our death notices and have conducted a full check of all of our systems. There is currently nothing wrong with the aircraft and the flight is smooth and level. We ’ re in contact with the ground authorities to determine what, if anything can be done. On behalf of the entire crew I apologize. ”
4 minutes have gone by.
It is about this time that you start to panic. You realize that the plane is doomed, but also that you are fine. Which is a logical paradox that leaves you wondering if you merely missed your notification. You check your phone again, but there is no message. Despite that reassuring fact you start to panic more and more. ‘ If the plane crashes, how long until I die in the ocean? ’ and ‘ Will I even get my notice out there if my phone gets soaked in the ocean? ” Despite a lack of notification your panic becomes visceral and nearly uncontrollable.
5 minutes have gone by.
You decide to act. Still panicked, you assess your situation. You quickly determine that if you aren ’ t going to die, but the plane is crashing, that you need to leave the plane. You stand up and start moving towards the rear of the aircraft. As you reach the rear toilets and the after boarding door, you ponder how you ’ re going to survive the fall from 45,000. ‘ Where am I going to find a parachute? ’ flashes through your mind. But then the thought occurs to you that your death notice would go off before you jumped. So you must obviously survive the landing.
6 minutes have gone by.
You get to the rear door. A quick glance around and you find the fire extinguisher, exactly what you need to force the lock to open. The fire extinguisher is heavy but your adrenaline is flowing. You pick it up and pull the door handle as far back as it will go before it stops, locked by the inflight safety locks. You lift the extinguisher and slam it down on the locking mechanism and hear a satisfying pop from the door.
Almost immediately the door gets sucked back out the hatch, tearing off sections of the hatch combing as it does so. There is a split second before you hear it slam into the side of the fuselage, where is starts banging rhythmically, still attached to the plane by its hinges.
7 minutes have gone by.
Yet now you are unworried. Your exit awaits you. You step forward towards the hatch and reach forward feeling the whipping air flying past your fingers. You look out into the void before you and take a deep breath. You pull yourself towards the hatch and push your head towards the opening, bracing for your jump, with the knowledge that you will be fine. Your panic finally subsides.
Suddenly the door is torn loose from its hinges.
The door careens backwards and slams into the horizontal stabilizer, tearing it clean of the aircraft. The plane lurches to the side and you are thrown to the floor. The plane starts to slide to the right and then slowly rolls level, but alarmingly starts to pitch forward towards the ocean, now only 40,000 feet below. The feeling of weightlessness slowly starts to appear as the plane dives uncontrollably.
8 minutes have gone by.
You pull yourself towards the opening one more time. Bracing yourself you take a deep breath and jump with everything in you, leaping clear of the doomed aircraft.
As fly clear of the plunging aircraft, you are spun around by the violently buffeting air currents whipping by the plane. You look down and see the damage you ’ ve done to the aircraft that has sent it into an uncontrollable dive. As you stare at the plane falling towards to ocean, the realization dons on you. You are the cause of the crash and the deaths of everyone on board. You.
And that ’ s when your phone starts vibrating…
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[ WP ] You 've never known what it 's like to live until you begin to die
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My therapist thought it would help me. He said the adrenaline rush had help many of his patients with depression come alive again. I was skeptical, but it could n't hurt... could it? I was lying to myself of course. Nothing scared me more than the thought of jumping out of an airplane.
The training was simple, the fees ridiculous, at least I thought so. Eventually, it was time to do it. I was n't jumping alone of course, it being my first time and all. What happened next is all a blur. Next thing I know, I'm floating through the air. This is a pretty entertaining experience, I guess, but it's nothing like what I expected.
I'm lost in my head when I realize that the instructor is frantically pulling at a handle on his right. The chute wo n't open, I realize. This is it, I suppose. I find myself wishing the instructor is n't with me. This would be so much more serene without him screaming his head off. I wonder if my therapist will blame himself... I really hope he does n't. He's really nice guy. This exact moment is when I realize, I do n't want to die. I want to meet my therapist again... I want to drink one last glass of wine... eat one last steak. My final moments are filled with thoughts of regret, and then, emptiness. Is this what being dead feels like I wonder? Eventually, I'm woken up from a coma.
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[ WP ] You are a bowling ball . Life sucks until one day someone comes in and treats you ... Differently .
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Brightness. Is it 10am, already?
`` Today will be better than yesterday.''
I try to wake up and convince myself some idiot is n't going to just grab me and hurl me down at the pins. Especially Rhonda. I hate it when they throw me at Rhonda. I love her. The gold ball says I should just tell her. What does he know? Nobody ever chooses the gold ball. He does n't have to roll around knowing the truth.
Every day she's down there smiling and BAM! Somebody just slams into her. One day I'm going to do something about it!
*sigh* I can hear people coming for the early games. Who's going to get me today?
Oh what's this? A school field trip? Little kids always throw gutter balls! Today might actually be better today after all!
`` Hello, Mr. Ball!'' A squeaky voice said.
... Was she talking to me?
`` Misssss-ter Baaaall!'' The same voice again.
Suddenly I could see her stooped down in front of me. She had brown hair and was wearing a yellow dress. She could n't have been more than 11.
`` umm, Hello?'' I'd never tried talking to one of them before. No way it's going to be this easy.
At the sound of my voice she squawked and almost fell backwards. She sat there looking at me surprised with her hand over her mouth for a few moments. Then said, `` you-you can talk?''
`` Well I guess I can!'' I said with a chuckle. This could be my ticket out of here; with Rhonda.
`` Well then I choose YOU as my ball!'' The little girl said with a smile.
`` Could you throw me in the gutter, please?'' I needed to be direct.
`` Haha - do n't be silly!'' She said as we walked over to the lanes. Man, this place is packed today. I wonder if all these people can talk.
`` Sarah, what are you doing?'' A woman in blue jeans and a brown jacket was approaching us. `` You know I brought your ball from home.''
`` NO MOM! I'm USING THIS BALL AND HE CAN TALK.''
Mom looks confused. I'm not sure this is the best time to show off my trick. But Sarah? OK, we got a name. Introductions! Think. Remember, you got ta be strong for Rhonda this girl could be our ticket.
`` O.. OK honey you can use that ball...''
Today IS a better day. New user, she can talk to me. Judging by her motor skills on the way over her I predict she scores a 5 all game. Maybe I can swing by and say hi to Rhonda. We're approaching the lane - YES! She's there!''
`` OK so Sarah, Sarah was it? Could you help me out? That front pin down there, you see, that's Rho-''
`` NOT NOW MR. BALL!'' Sarah was stepping up to the line. Man, she got strong.
`` GET'EM, SARAH!'' That was her mom. What's that banner say? Tri-State bowling compe-whaaaaaaaaaaa.
You never get used to being thrown. The spinning spinning spinning. This may be the hardest I've ever been thrown. Oh no, Rhonda! RHONDA!!!!
Ker-PlunK! The crowd is cheering.
`` Upt! Hey, Don!'' A man was yelling. `` Looks like we got a broken pin.''
`` Damn, that little girl can bowl!'' A voice replied.
Rhonda... Today... Will be better...
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[ WP ] You are having a nightmare . Instead of waking up moments before death , you die in the dream . There 's a man with you , it 's Death . He wants to talk to you .
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The flash and crack of gunfire through the forest had me out of my bed roll and running in seconds. My vision was unfocused and frantic, and my legs seemed like they were moving through a thick pudding, but I had to press forward. When I heard more gunshots, I pulled the rifle off my shoulder and fired back while I ran. The halls were sparse, with only a few paintings and a wooden bust stand or two to take mild cover behind, but I propped myself against the wall none the less, firing at my unknown assailants around the bust of Lt. Jackson, my drill instructor from basic. I lobbed a grenade, but it bounced off the invisible wall I ’ d put up and landed back at my feet. I jumped on top of it to save my wife and three ex-girlfriends, and heard them all scream at the same time as my chest was propelled through my spine to paint the chair I ’ d been sitting on…
-- -- --
At once, I realized that I ’ d never been in the military in my life, and I ’ d never even had a girlfriend, much less a wife. I ’ m pretty sure the woman that played my wife was Natalie Portman, but I can ’ t be sure about that, since her face was pretty foggy at this point. In fact, the whole scene was pretty foggy. Why hadn ’ t I woken up yet? More importantly, why did I know that I *should* have woken up?
A booming voice that seemed to originate from a helmet shaped invisible dome around my head hit my ear drums like a tiny hammer designed for just that sort of thing. “ FRANK. WE NEED TO HAVE A CHAT. ”
“ Umm… I ’ m Alex? ”
“ RIGHT, RIGHT… ALEX. YOU JUST LOOK LIKE A FRANK IS ALL… ” his voice seemed to trail off, as if he wasn ’ t quite sure he had the right person. A dark figure stood in front of me. I ’ m sorry, is it dark figure, black guy, or African American? I can never remember what ’ s PC these days. Anyway, a black guy stood in front of me, with the darkest skin I ’ d ever seen. Come to think of it, it might have just been a silhouette… Anyway! It stood there, very imposing, and the voice began to come directly from it, or him, or whatever it ’ s best to say in situations like this. “ I ’ M TRAPPED IN YOUR FUCKING HEAD, FRANK. ” ’
“ Alex. ”
“ RIGHT, ALEX. I ’ M TRAPPED IN YOUR HEAD. I HATE IT WHEN YOU PEOPLE DIE IN YOUR DREAMS. IT SMELLS JUST LIKE DEAD TO ME EITHER WAY, AND IT LOCKS ME UP IN HERE UNTIL YOU AGREE TO MY TERMS. ” He held out his hand -- which was definitely African American, I think -- with it ’ s palm up, and a contract formed from the air around it. “ IF YOU ’ LL JUST SIGN HERE, WE CAN GET THIS OVER WITH. ”
I pulled a pen out of the air that hadn ’ t been present before -- the pen, not the air -- and leaned over to sign the contract, before I suddenly stopped. I stared in amazement at the pen, then turned my big eyes back to the black man. “ Did I just do that? Did I just make that pen? ”
He sighed a very rattling, old sigh. It sounded like he ’ d been practicing this for a while, and had gotten just so, so that it conveyed annoyance, condescension, weariness, and inevitability, all in equal measures. “ IT ’ S NEVER THAT EASY. I WISH JUST ONCE, SOMEONE WOULD SIGN THE CONTRACT BEFORE REALIZING THAT THEY CAN DO WHATEVER THEY WANT. ”
“ *I can do whatever I want?! * I just thought the pen trick was nifty! I was gon na sign straight off after I ’ d had a bit of fun summoning pens, but whatever I want? Well, that changes things. ”
Death closed his black eye lids over his black eyes, and shook his head for his own idiocy, then settled in for a very long negotiation process with a complete moron.
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[ WP ] In an alternate universe , people are sent to prison for good deeds , but have their sentences shortened for bad behavior . You have just been sentenced to 200 years in prison for charity work . How do you get yourself released ?
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Richard gagged a little, `` Are you sure this is what everyone does to get out of here, Frank?''
Frank grimaced as he looked around, `` I mean, yeah. It's easy and nobody gets hurt for it. It's the safest way to burn off a few extra hours a day. Though, if you really want to set the reduction rate highest, you could ask the head chef for a curry and bean soup special and he'll hook you up.''
Richard shivered, jangling the ankle chain shared between him and Frank.
`` Frank, I do n't know. It just seems a bit unsanitary.''
Frank groaned, `` You know what, Richard? If you're gon na be such a bitch about this, then stop pissing down my leg.''
Frank immediately zipped up his prison jumpsuit and stormed off.
A prison guard came by and gave Richard a thumb's up, `` At least you're not doing it on a person. Great behavior, Prisoner PI-55!''
`` You've got ta be shitting me,'' Richard replied before a certain idea popped into his head.
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[ WP ] You are in a crowded subway car of a very big city .
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The sharp tension of my grocery bags dug into the palms of my hands as I tried to balance myself without smashing into the man in front of me who was sporting an old smelly pair of navy blue sweatpants.
My leaves of spinach were peaking out of one of the bags, gracefully touching the subway pole and the sweatpants of said fellow passenger. I did n't know what I was planning to make with the spinach but I felt like buying something so vividly green and presumably healthy was a good idea when back when I was at the grocery store. An impulse purchase of sorts. I was regretting buying the two litres of milk now as I had forgotten how heavy it quickly becomes. As I stood there, gripping my feet to the floor as the subway car was slowly coming to a halt at the next station, I languidly looked on at the passengers getting ready to debark. That's when I saw Craig Warton, a manly looking chef who was often featured in cooking segments on the local news. I made eye contact with him and half smiled and immediately looked down, not wanting to make him feel awkward. But when I looked up he was still looking at me, smiling, in a coy way. He slowly walked up to me, not worried that the train was about to stop at the next station, and he asked me, `` What is a beautiful girl like you cooking tonight?'' and I panicked, looked down at my bags, thinking ravenously quickly, but when I looked up, the doors of the subway car opened... and with a quick wink, he was gone.
I continued on my journey home, mind blank, shell-shocked in a strange way, letting myself feel the bodily vibrations of the rackety subway car. I walked home, steady but slow, in the cold night air. I walked up the flight of steps to my apartment, still gripping the tight, heavy plastic of my grocery bags, trying to re-adjust the weight on my palms. When I got to my door, I went inside, dropped my bags in the floor, and sat on the ground. And I cried. I did n't have a specific reason to cry but the sobbing was acutely making me feel more alive - and so I did. I sobbed until the milk got warm and so I got up, wiped my eyes, and put it in the fridge.
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[ WP ] Unknown to the public , the reason heroes and villains dress in such a flamboyant and fabulous manner is that it amplifies their powers . Lately , this `` arms race '' has been getting out of control ...
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The City: A sprawling metropolis of buildings that take up almost an entire continent, but also the only metropolitan area on Earth. Just a year ago, a startling new villain arrived at the height of the costumed super hero rise. His name was In The Flesh.
His costume was horrifying, consisting of human bodies weaved together into a living outfit. With every body he forcefully added, his power grew. By the time everyone realized what was going on, he was already too powerful. It was then that the heroes and the government realized that subtle flair was no match for hideous, gauche costuming.
In The Flesh's costume was so hideous and grotesque that heroes and the government had a hard time coping with it. The meat suit slushed and sloshed with each stop, while the wails of the tortured flooded out of it. Harming the suit was the most obvious way, but proved grueling and mentally taxing on the heroes, who's popularity also went down as Flesh began adding a layer of kittens and newborns for added protection. The mewls were horrifying, not even Starlight could beat him and she drew her power from harnessing the stars themselves. Some blame the foggy coating of the city, but the gov't continues to deny having anything to do with the smokey'flavor' that permeates the skies of the city.
Finally, Melodramatis was able to conquer In The Flesh, but it was a disturbing battle that shook his mind. In the gap since then and now his mind has slowly corroded, his sanity has sunken away as he increases his power every chance he gets in order to stop any villains in their tracks. Blood smears splatter the city.
The Government also acted though, realizing the need to combat costumed nutjobs, but having no powers of their own. They finally commissioned The Fabulous Mech in secret. Their trump card against heroes and villains. The artist took forever to finish the sketch though, citing their dog dying and creative block, so the mecha stands critically flawed.
Now, Melodramatis has become too much of a threat, having killed all other heroes and villains, but worse yet he terrorizes the city on a daily basis. The president decides it's time.
`` Bring the pilot!'' The president demands. The staff expresses worries that the pilot is too serious to handle this kind of combat, but the president pushes their worries aside by shoving them out of the way. `` No, she's hotblooded! Only someone who takes themselves too seriously can overcome this level of camp!''
Melodramatis runs his comb through his pompadour, causing the bus sized hair do to bend and sway before it snaps back and crushes a building. Speakers line his shoulders like missile launchers as he forcefully regales The City with another speech about how he protects them. His speakers are cranked so high that again, those too close to the epicenter go deaf and windows shatter, but his speech continues. His cape is so long and thick that it ca n't even flow, leaving a trail around buildings that looks as if they're flooded with gold satin. When no one believe's it's possible to stop him anymore, she arrives.
A golden, skyscraper sized mech. It's The Savior. It's winged with rainbows and glows with a brilliant energy.
`` MELODRAMATIS! WE WO N'T BE SUBJECT TO YOUR TERRIBLE SPEECHES ANYMORE!'' The pilot cries. All of these poor, lucky, deaf people! `` We'd rather die and be free of your speeches than continue to suffer like this!''
Melodramatis scoffs. To him it's just another villain in his way of keeping the city safe. A fight would just cause more damage after all. He ca n't let such a villain get in the way of his continuing protection over The city.
The battle ensues with rainbow colored explosions that wipe away buildings. Each attack is more powerful than the next as Melodramatis continues to reveal layer after layer of apparel that only boosts his powers to the next level. Finally, The Savior manages one last move as she picks Melodramatis up in her hand. His mobility has been severely limited, due to his cape becoming tangled between the buildings.
`` This is the robot of dreams! It can do anything, even go into space!'' She cries as her rockets begin blasting and decimate the area around her. As she flies up she encounters resistance from the cape, but her beam saber slices through it. Melodramatis screams as his cape is severed, as if she's torn a limb from him. In his weakened state they ascend into space. The robot can do anything, anything but come back. Its fatal flaw is that they never had time to design a recovery program.
From the ground, the remainder of The City can see an explosion as she heroically takes Melodramatis with her. A prism of color flows over the atmosphere of the planet for a moment before cheers fill the city. Finally they're safe from the costumed menace and his gaudy speeches.
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[ CW ] I 'm heading the wrong way ...
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I guess I'll start it off.
I ’ m heading the wrong way. On a train, every time I ’ m on a train, and I look out the window and watch the train I was supposed to be on slide into the distance. The strange thing is, I had a choice. I could have chosen the train that I long for now but I didn ’ t and I don ’ t know why. Perhaps it ’ s because my family is on this train, the one I ’ m actually on. Well, most of my family, my sister ’ s on the other tracks and she ’ s always looking at me through the window of the train with a look that says, “ Why aren ’ t you here with me? ” Sitting down in my seat, I start to think about bravery, always bravery, and I ’ m not sure if it ’ s brave to take this train, the one with my parents, with so many other families, and pursue the safe destination that this train will no doubt lead me to. Sometimes, I think it ’ s far braver to take the other train, head away with my sister, the little idealist, to a place that ’ s scary, bigger than me, unlimited and when I think that, suddenly, a door opens. The side of the train opens up and there ’ s wind rushing in, thrashing bags and papers about and while people cling to poles and walls for dear life, I look out. When I stand on the edge of the hole in the train, somehow I know I won ’ t die if I jump out. I can ’ t explain it. I know I ’ ll get hurt, shred some skin, break some bones, bleed, but I won ’ t die. So I decide to jump, every time I decide to jump, it ’ s the right thing to do. I stand on the ledge and gather all my courage and at the last moment my family creeps into my mind. They won ’ t know if I survived and they may never see me again, I won ’ t be able to protect them. The hole gets slammed shut, and everything goes back to normal. My mother smiles at me and asks, “ What ’ s wrong? ” she always asks, and every time I force a smile and say, “ Nothing, ” and the train rushes forward, in the wrong direction.
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[ WP ] You go to the bathroom and , as usual , you look behind the shower curtain . This time something is there .
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I groggily woke up. I looked over from my bed to my nighstand and could see the glowing glimmer of the LED alarm clock. 2:00 AM.
I felt my bladder start to pound telling me it was time to go to the bathroom. I was upset with myself. I knew I had to wake up early and that beer I stopped for right before going to be was coming to haunt me.
I mustered some energy and pushed my body up and sat for a minute looking for the strength to make the short walk to my bedroom. I hated waking up this late. You could always hear the wind rustling through the canyon down the side of my house and it is something no matter my age that gives me the heeby-geebies.
Finally I pushed myself off the bed, the force barely enough to propel my body forward without falling back. I could hear the howling of the wind. It was almost hauntingly melodic. The goosebumps raised on the back of my neck. I still pushed on knowing full well I am a grown man.
I walked into the hallway and made the couple step journey to the bathroom. I had two lights, but just remembered that one burned out the night before. I flicked on the only light and made my way through the narrow corridor passing the shower to the bathroom. I started to relieve myself in the toilet and groggily wiped my eyes with my other hand. I heard a noise.
A small squeak. It sounded like it was coming from the shower.
Probably my imagination I thought. Stupid sounds in the night. I had built up quite the stream and this time thought I heard a couple of small breaths. It could n't be. Why does my imagination always get carried away? I finished and waited a couple of seconds before flushing. Nothing.
I flushed and washed my hands. As I dried my hands I had the urge to open up the curtains. No, I thought. There is nothing there and there is no need to check. I clicked off the remaining light. I took a step toward my bedroom, but something pulled me back.
In a quick motion I flicked back the light and pulled open the curtain. Wide eyes stared at me with a panicked look. My heart almost punched a hole through my chest. My body shook and I felt adrenaline shoot through my veins. The man lunged at me.
I closed my eyes and darted to my left. The body fell to a crumple right outside of the shower. I wanted to run until my feet stopped. But curiosity brought me back. The man was n't moving. Nor did it look like he was breathing. I grabbed a screwdriver from the cabinet outside my bathroom and went back in. I walked closely feeling my heart beat like a drum. I was beginning to sweat and ready to drive the screwdriver into this person with any sign of movement.
I was nearly hyperventilating as I walked closer. I noticed something protruding from his back. I walked closer. I noticed it was a dagger driven straight into his spine. But the blood was all dry. I turned the person over. It was a man. And... I recognized him. My thoughts became delirious. It was the bartender from earlier. And what was that. I saw a paper hanging from his mouth. I knew I should have left well enough alone but I pulled it out. I read it aloud. It was written in bright red paint on a piece of notebook paper.
`` The wind is the least of your worries.'' As I finished the last word the light flickered off and in the darkness I could hear the door slam shut.
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[ WP ] Two strangers keep running into each other throughout the years . It is not a love story .
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This is not a love story.
Aron and Erin were born in the same hospital, on the same day. They went to the same elementary school, but never had any classes together. In middle school, their only similar class was 8th grade english. Aron did n't care much for Erin, but Erin thought Aron was kind of cute.
Again, this is not a love story.
In High School, Aron and Erin saw each other a little more. Aron played trombone in the band, and Erin made the cheerleading team. This meant they were at every football team ( except their 11th grade championship, when Aron had the flu and could n't make it ). The next class they had together was, ironically, 10th grade English. Aron took a slight notice of Erin, but only because he was trying to place her as `` the girl in the middle of the pyramid''. Erin's interest in Aron also grew.
Aron's first choice in University was University of Alabama in Birmingham, Erin's was Mississippi State. It was sheer chance that they both enrolled at Mississippi State.
Their first encounter was at freshman orientation. The second was when they saw each other during the second week if classes. The third was a blanket on the Quad. The fourth was over dinner at Arby's.
No matter what you may think, I tell you, this is not a love story.
In the time if year where it's too hot for spring and too cool for summer, Aron and Erin were getting ready to graduate. Erin had her degree in Journalism, and Aron in Secondary Education. Both were ready to move to the next chapter in their lives, together.
Until they met, by chance, at a mutual friend's party. Neither knew the other was invited. While Erin showed up early to help set up, Aron arrived late, but brought a 6-pack of Bud Weiser. He started looking for a fridge. This is how he found Erin and the mutual friend preparing to have sex in the kitchen pantry.
As I've told you, reader, this is not a story of love. At the best, it's a story of nearly-mutual infatuation. Perhaps Aron will move on, but perhaps he'll have trust issues with many relationships down the road. Maybe Erin was drunk, or maybe she really did want her friend more than Aron. But one thing is certain. While this is not a story of love, that does n't mean it could n't have been.
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[ WP ] A little girl 's wish is answered and an old man dies . How are these two events related to the end of a prominent politician 's career ?
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“ Our top story tonight, senator John Adams has committed suicide in the aftermath of his recent sex scandal. Witnesses say Adams managed to hang himself using his prison uniform while awaiting trial for the rape of a twelve year old girl. The senator had been trying to plan a deference around saying the girl seduced him. We now go live to Adam ’ s victim, for her take on this. ”
The camera then cut to a small room, every inch of it plastered with posters of Adam ’ s once dignified and wrinkled face. The camera got an amazing shot of the little girl bawling her eyes out before cutting back to the newsroom to cover a lighter story about a dog who loves to wear hats.
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[ WP ] 10,000
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Reposted and just slightly edited from the 10,000 seconds to live thread:
He had ten thousand seconds to live. A little shy of three hours. Time to make the most of them.
What should he do? Should he go out and live it up? It seemed rude to leave his body somewhere else. Someone could trip on it.
Should he reminisce back on his life? It had been pretty swell after all. Well, it had been the best he'd ever had at least.
Nine thousand, nine hundred, ninety-nine seconds left. Good thing a second felt like forever in his head.
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[ WP ] Your ex punches you in the face and shoves a ten dollar bill in your mouth at a restaurant . She leaves and you have to explain .
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'No, I've got it, thank you. Really, it's fine. Yes, that will be great, thanks. No, that wo n't be necessary. No, really, thanks. Great.
Oh, no, do n't worry about it. Of course I'll be paying for the wine. These napkins are n't expensive, are they? I'll pay for those, too. No, trust me, you just ca n't get blood out of these things. Not *human* blood, anyway. It's a joke, kid, lighten up once in a while. No, do n't fucking apologize. Christ, I'm not going to get you fired. Look, kid, here's a free bit of advice: just because a woman, well-dressed as she may be, refers to a man as a quote-unquote'Asshole' at the top of her proverbial lungs in ( and do n't pat yourself on the back for this too much, you're just the busboy ) a very fine restaurant on a Tuesday afternoon does not, in point of actual fact make that statement necessarily true vis-a-vis *reality*. You know what I'm saying? Come on, kid, did you see how many bottles of this shit she put down? Two and half? Was it three? I saw you looking from over there in the corner, come on, do n't be coy. It was like three, yeah? The point is that one ca n't always... you have to take some shit with a grain of salt, you know? I mean, you call me past eleven at night I'm going to say some pretty dubious shit, compared, to like, if you call me at the same time in the morning, yeah? You take drugs, right?
Still, still, kid, just because someone's all flushed and dipsomaniacal does n't make them wrong. *In vino veritas*, yeah? You know what that means? The fuck does that mean? A busboy might pick up some Latin here and there, kid. Jesus do n't sell yourself short like that. Have some goddamn self-respect.
But no, the truth about that little situation back there, the truth of the thing is, in this instance, that I am a whore. It's true, I am. Hey how you doin'? You think this is the fucking cabaret? Eat your goddamn snails, pal.
No, but I am a whore, I am. But here's the thing, see? She's a whore too. So here we are, two whores just whoring it up on a weekday afternoon, and suddenly this arrangement is like, not up to fucking par all of a sudden? Since when? Since when does it matter that I fucked my secretary? Tell me since when? Since the world is no longer fucking flat? Hey, you see that stain on her dress from over in that corner, kid? Yeah, three fucking guesses who put that there and if he is or is n't sitting at this fucking table, kid. Three guesses and the first two do n't count.
Fuck, kid, you'd think I'd be worth more than a ten, at any rate. That's just how the titty milks some times. Yeah, put it all on my card. If my wife comes back in, try not to let her fall on your dick, okay? I'm kidding, Jesus. Like I give a fuck. Here, here's ten bucks for your trouble. Just do n't snort any coke with it, that's how you get hepatitis.
Yeah, I need a taxi at Maxwell's. Some whore stole my car. No, it's fine, I'm married to her. Yeah, I'll be out front having a smoke. Send someone close to retirement, yeah? Fuck you, it's a goddamn joke.
People these days.'
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[ WP ] A girl hooks up with a masked guy at a party . Contrary to what she thinks , he 's not really wearing a mask ...
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we wear no masks
in this moment
there are no masks
only
you and me with
this heartbeat burning between us and
all the world like
so much smoke
your eyes ablaze you
see me
beyond the scars
beyond the fire and the tears you
see me
and i am seen by you
comfort me
and i am comforted by you
embrace me
and i am embraced by you
and the world around us
all the noise
all the bodies
all the heat
disappear
and there is only us, the flickering lights, the sickening sight
of me in the morning
and you dress, and you cry, and you
close the door behind
so soft
and in the cold of your departure
I lay alone
and burning.
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[ WP ] “ How does it feel to be the last one of your kind ? ”
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I spent a lifetime uncaring. Years of my life just skimming pages of the internet. Hours every night, laying awake and thinking of the things I wanted to do.
Now there is no one.
I do n't know where they went, if they are dead or if my entire life was as a movie. Everyone I've ever known were actors and everything was mere fiction.
If not that then maybe I am dead, and this loneliness is hell or maybe purgatory.
I still live my days as I would. I eat, I sleep, I entertain myself if I can. But I am so alone. The only other of my kind, of anything living, is in the mirror.
I survive off of preserved foods left in grocery store, still powered. That is, until something breaks and no one is there to fix it.
I gather supplies: Food, water, tools, useful things like duct tape and tupperware.
It's been years. I have not seen anything alive in so long. No life, no motion, nothing but the dead world and its leftovers. I'm old and fat, living off of preserved foods.
I have had all of these years to think back, to wonder what happened to them all. I wondered if it were a dream, if this were a dream, if I were merely hallucinating or trapped in a simulated world without any other populace and I have wondered if I am merely a character in a story.
None of that matters to me, all that matters is that I have survived so long. I will not let death take me, I will submit to the dark when I pass but until then I will fight it every second.
I've been lonely, I've been silent, I've been crazy ever since week 3. I think my insanity has dulled from age and now I am bored. But I am here, and I still feel alive. So I will fight for life.
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[ WP ] [ CC ] What if we are n't alone ?
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`` What if we are n't alone?'' Octavius ask allowed, addressing no one in particular. His question hung in the air. After a moment Urtrork broke the silence. `` Impossible,'' he proclaimed confidently. `` Anything still alive in these woods is fleeing at the mere stench of Urtrork.'' Urtrork let out a hardly laugh. The sound itself contracted its owner's otherwise grim surroundings. The forest that they traveled through was said to be home to many terrible spirits. `` While you do reek I assure you Urtrork, but I think Octavius may be right.'' Davendithas interjected while summoning his stag familiar to his side. Davendithas had his keep lookout at the edge of the clearing. `` What does a magician and a hermit know about battle? Urtrork has slain these threats. There are no more. That's why Urtrork's ax is sheathed.'' The half-orc responded with confidence while gesturing to two-handed ax slung over his shoulder. `` Okay stop I am a wizard not a magician. A wizard. Octavius is a monk, which well.... okay yeah there is n't much of a difference between him and a hermit.'' Davendithas conceded. `` You want to say that again?'' Octavius challenged. Moonlight gleaming of his well defined arms and chest. Davendithas turned to face Octavius. `` There is no difference what so ever between a monk and a hermit.'' Davendithas jested. Another jolly laugh erupted from Urtrork. `` Come friends this is not the time for dueling. We do n't nearly enough mead.'' `` Quiet.'' said the cloaked figure standing over the fawn caucus. `` We definitely are n't alone.'' the ranger whispered just loud enough for the those in the clearing to hear. `` We need to get to Ravendown now.''
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[ WP ] Our universe is coming to its end . Humans are still around . Write from the point of view of a being from another universe who has watched ours since the beginning , and will now witness its demise .
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`` Do you see now? Do You!?! Your intervention with the human race has caused nothing but destruction since you approached man.'' The guardian ranted in anguish. `` Now I hope you all have gathered enough lessons to know that living beings such as these are not meant to be presented such knowledge in such a quick time. You signed their death warrant the second you revealed yourselves to them.'' A hush of silence fell upon the group as they watch.
`` I ca n't think of an instance when my hope dwindled for them. They were the cast of potential.'' One guardian explained. `` But their potential only exceeds in destruction of each other.'' Another exclaimed. Slowly the audience dwindled, and while the majority of other guardians seemed to have lost interested into something that was in the stage of its demise a single person remained. He was considered the wisest of all the guardians and was against the creation of life on this planet.
After a while the group returned to the observatory to catch the end. They quietly whispered their opinions in the matters of the planet ’ s past. Talking in hush tones of the achievement and decimation of earth, and the wise guardian stayed silent. They watched as minutes turned to seconds and the earth was gone. They started to rise from their seated areas when the wise guardian spoke. “ Are we not to blame for this loss? Are task was simple it was to create life. But you all took it a step further you gave them your own individual idea of religion and combined it with egotism. Saying that this is wrong and this is right. When these are combined it creates hate and hate is what caused this. I knew this was doomed from the start because you had no explanation for the cause. You just put them there and fed them ideology without origin. Yes as my fellow guardian said you fed them knowledge too quickly but their comprehension of material was not the case. They would've been more than guardians if they were given the chance to discover their own ideals. Look at what they have done without your intervention. ” He slowly flickered through stills of human history and everyday life. “ Look at who they were and imagine what they could have become. ”
Edit: First Post hope y'all enjoy it...
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[ WP ] A typical JRPG protagonist finds himself in a Western RPG
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//Just fyi, i'm using the prompt more as a guideline with this entry, and not adhering to it strictly. Sorry: (
Steve strokes his neckbeard as he stares at his screen, his face stern. The dragons look too plausible, most of the armor looks so unaesthetic and covers *way* too much, and the men are just *so* gruff and tough and very unpretty. Everything is so grand-but-bland, too; people should be dancing more, the world should be more colourful, there should be special complex sword attacks, the dwarves should have lightsabers and steampunk sexbots - and the lack of text-based dialogue is just appalling. Convenient menus? Actual player character responses?! That takes away from story-telling! Dialogue should be presented in several still images and large blocks of text in a small, serif-ed font, obviously. What was Bethesda thinking? Steve immediately Alt+F4's out and hits up the Nexus.
After several hours, he boots up the game. A K-pop overture replaces the title sequence, joyously. The perky undulations of the cheery female voices make Steve smile. Yes, this is more like it. He starts a new game, and looks at everyone's exposed chests and thighs, his various nude mods clearly in effect since all the males had a throbbing additional appendage peeking from beneath their kilts, and breasts the size of exercise balls pulsate vigorously across the landscape, through the game's physics engine.
As the Imperial Officer asks him his name, Steve cracks his knuckles in glee as he sees her purple pigtails and her dish-size eyeballs blinking happily at him, her supple body not even struggling against the weight of her door-sized, eight-bladed greatsword.
He types the name *Hirochi* after selecting a pre-defined face that was sufficiently androgynous. Hirochi prepares to be executed in his stylish form-fitting one-piece tuxedo -- with defined muscles shining through the fur-lined V-neck that ended just above Hirochi's crotch, *of course* -- before witnessing the coming of Alduin, The World-Eater, the father of all cute ponies. If only his coming was superceded by a random transition.. Combat is too fluid, too, come to think; enemies should have to wait until you hit them, and then you should wait to hit them back. This would be far more tactical than the random flailing around currently in the game. Also, why are n't all his sword swings and magic attacks announced prior to performing them? It's just not dramatic enough! And how is the player supposed to know that he selected the right attack?! There *must* be mods to fix all this... Alduin felt incomplete, somehow, too. Steve's unibrow furrowed as he was suddenly assaulted by realization and enlightenment; the beast needs a penis, a big one - with at least seven knots.
With brave determination, Steve tilts his fedora forward, wipes the sweat from his harelip and dries his cheetoh-caked hands on his Naruto T-shirt. He Alt+F4's out of the game again, and proceeds to once again consult the Nexus, downloading anything of interest without a thought, comment, nor a single endorsement.
Maybe, just maybe, Steve will *finally* be able to play Skyrim.
( inspiration: shit like [ this ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=QKI4hQd_CMc ) and [ ESPECIALLY by shit like this ] ( http: //s1293.photobucket.com/user/kyo92tricks/media/MyMovie_zps58589e96.mp4.html ) )
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[ WP ] All of your intrusive thoughts are manifested into a living , breathing creature of pure evil .
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I think my mind is slowly slipping away. Descending into the palms of another. It feels like I have less and less control over impulse everyday. I should have stayed at Cara's birthday, I probably would n't have been in that mess then.
________________________________________________________________
`` Stay! Do n't go James.'' She urged in an upset do n't with a small hint of anger.
`` I have something I need to do, Cara.'' The stilted conversation mostly attributable to my PTSD. The one I developed after witnessing my sister's rape and murder.
Cara looked at me with sad eyes, almost as if she knew what I was thinking. She could always see through me.
`` You need to stop blaming yourself James.'' A sad look on her face. `` Your father was a twisted man, Sarah would n't want you to be like this.''
It did n't matter want Sarah wanted, she was dead. She could n't even conceive of what she wanted because she ceased to exist. Cara was my childhood friend and she was just as close to Sarah as I was. Which is why I would never get mad at her for reminding me of what induced my disorder. However she still did n't fully understand, and it angered me enough that I refused her wish for me to stay.
*James! *
Oh no, it's happening again. The flashbacks of Sarah screaming for life, the dark room destroyed as she laid on the ground, a man overpowering her on top.
*Help! Help me! *
Her screams piercing my mind, the tears in her eyes flowing just as much as my own as I watched helplessly. The stab wound causing to much blood loss for me to gather any strength to move.
*No! Please no! Do n't please god! God! *
The man was struggling to bring the knife to her neck, my eyes widened as I felt rage and despair consume me. Unable to hold back the tears until he slit her throat and all the screams stopped, only the gurgling of my dying sister remained. Then silence.
The tears stopped, and I lay on my side, staring at Sarah in loss. Loss of mind, loss of identity, loss of soul. My vision began to deteriorate and then everything went black.
I awoke in sudden fright from the dreams I had just witnessed, the cold settling into my body as I found myself standing in an empty dark street of the city.
*Ah, I just left Cara's* I thought as I continued to journey through the damp ill-lit blocks. The only sounds besides the occasional hassle of a bird digging in the dumps for food being my footsteps. Until I heard a peculiar cry, a voice unlike any humans.
The anxiety set in as the sound grew in intensity until I found myself at it's origin. Inside the alley I had just coursed in was a large silhouette of a person abusing a dog. The mans unshaven beard and filthy attire confirmed him as homeless which made the whole scene even more demoralizing.
*Help! *
Ah, the same intrusive thoughts, obscuring my vision and hitting me like a bug in my brain. I looked at the location the dog had been and saw Sarah, screaming in agony just like before. I felt the rage and fury build up in me as I ran towards the man and tackled him to the ground. My cries of anger catching him off guard.
Every blow felt so satisfying, the surge of adrenaline concealing any pain that I should have felt in my hands. Every thud and crunch of impact and collision provoked a sense of delight in my mind, the kind that eating chocolate does. It only strengthened when the man started bleeding, the essence of his life flowing out of him as I ravaged into his face. The man did n't say a word or exhale a scream, his time in poverty weakening him to the bone, only low sounding expressions of pain. I heard faint laughter in the distance as I continued to force my fists into the man's now deformed head. Not stopping for another 30 seconds when I realized he had stopped moving. I looked at the still blood stained face of a man I had never known, his absent stare and fallen teeth subsiding my rage. My heart rate still high as I still struggled to inhale oxygen, my thoughts returning to me.
He was dead and silence pervaded the alley. The laughter ceased and it was then I had realized where it's joy originated. Mine.
*Ah, I see now, the monster in the end. Was always me. *
________________________________________________________________
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[ IP ] Duel
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They called it the Fang of the Gods. A stupid name. That monster is as much a celestial being as I am. The Council had no idea where it came from. The damn thing just showed up in the center of town, killing anyone who got near it.
Eventually we corralled it into a cave. Over time this was hollowed out, chipped away as they built a viewing arena around it. Then came the sacrifices. One sided gladiator fights that many of us watched with thinly concealed horror and disinterest.
`` Kill! Kill! Kill!'' The chanting grew louder as I walked down the darkened tunnel to the arena.
*Breathe.Just Breathe. *
`` KILL! KILL! KILL!''
*I really hope my mom avoided showing up today. *
`` KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!''
The crowd worked themselves into a frenzy. I passed Counselor Davis and stop in front of him for a moment. I ca n't bring myself to look at him.
*Bastard*
`` If you had listened to us, maybe this would have turned out differently.'' He spoke with a smug self assured tone in his voice.
I spat on the ground near his feet and glared at him.
`` Hopefully the Fang will kill you fast.'' He gathered his robes about him and hurried up a concealed flight of stair set into the wall of the tunnel. A guard gently ushered me forward.
The yelling was less distinct now, more a sea of noise than anything else. I stopped in front of the weapons station. Karina was there.
*Bastard. He wanted her to see me like this. *
She's crying.
`` I'll be fine.'' I do my best to smile at her. `` It's been hurt in the past right? That means I can kill it.''
I raised a manacled hand to pat her on the shoulder. She hugged me suddenly, whispering in my ear. I felt two items be pressed into my hands.
`` We pulled some strings and got you a decent weapon. There's a magazine hidden in one of the old mining cottages in the arena. We smuggled it in while the Fang was sleeping. Look for a white x in chalk.'' She said quickly. She pulled back, looking me in the eyes intently.
`` I love you Griffin.''
`` I love you too.'' I pulled away firmly.
*Ca n't be distracted. *
I look down at the weapon she pressed into my hands. It's a light rifle with an energy bayonet. Between that and the collapsible shield she had given me, I was starting to feel good about my chances. I rolled my shoulders anxiously.
`` I hope you make it.'' The guard said abruptly breaking the silence.
`` I appreciate it.'' I said quietly.
`` Sacrifices have been going on for too long.'' He grunted. Before I could answer, we had arrived at the final gate. The noise was actually rattling the gate. It slid up into it's housing with a low rumble. The sunlight was blinding as I stepped outside.
My manacles released automatically. I rolled my wrists and clipped the light rifle onto my wrist. The grip swiveled into a locked position. I thumbed the activation stud and the blade shot out of the barrel.
I walked a slow circle, examining my surroundings. The bayonet was bigger, more of a cutlass than the military design that I was used to. I activated the shield and it spiraled out into its full size. The weight of my weapons was comforting.
A high wall loomed in front of me.
*Either this place is a lot smaller than I thought or-*
That's when the wall moved. A head large enough to eat a horse without chewing swiveled towards me. Massive yellow eyes locked onto me.
The Fang of the Gods opened its massive maw and roared. It seemed to know what was happening as we just looked at each other for a moment.
I still the infamous scar on its side where someone actually managed to make it through the armor with a simple spear. It was coiling its hind legs behind it, preparing to rush me.
I stepped back, scraping my heel through the dust. My eyes never left the Fang.
*Sidestep, rake the flank. C'mon Grif. You can do this. *
It rushed me, the world splitting into tens as its massive girth shook the ground. I stepped away and slashed viciously. The Fang bellowed and swung around.
It was eyeing me more cautiously now. I had hurt it. I glanced away for a moment and caught sight of the white chalk marking near one of the decrepit minding shacks.
*Same play. We can treat this like an ancient bullfight. *
I smiled confidently. The Fang cocked its head and charged me again. I moved to swing but it whipped its tail at me at the last second. It felt like I'd been hit by a train.
I had a vague sense of flying through the air, and then my world was pain. I climbed to my feet and coughed painfully. The Fang was already almost on me again. Its head was lowered, jaws open. I slashed across its eyes and stumbled backwards. It roared again and swung a meaty forepaw at me.
*THERE. MOVE*
I sprang up and sprinted for the mining shack. The Fang let out a frustrated huff and wheeled around to chase me.
I crashed through one of the walls and snatched the magazine off of the ground. The shack began to collapse as it draws closer. I dived through the door and came up in a crouch.
*Breathe. Breathe. *
I sighted on his head. I let out a breath and squeeze the trigger. The rifle kicked and the Fang screamed in pain. It swatted at its face like it had been stung.
Another kick, I could see rivulets of blood running down its face now. It starts running at me again. I pulled the trigger until the mag ran dry. It was still coming, slower now but still moving forward.
I ejected the blade again and ran forward. It swiped at me lazily as I swung up onto its back. It bucked and roared, sudden energy returning to it. I jammed the blade up to its hilt into the Fangs back.
*C'mon, move it around. Sever the spine. *
I detached the rifle from my wrist and used the shield to hammer it home. I screamed with exertion and pounded the rifle through his spine with one stroke. The Fang of the Gods let out an unearthly screech and dropped dead.
The stadium was silent. I looked around at the sea of faces in the stands above me. I saw... anger, sadness, joy. A very mixed bag of emotions. The gate slowly rumbled open.
Councilor Davis sniffed with distaste as he looked around the ground floor of the arena.
*Fucker probably has n't been near this level of the building. *
`` Griffin. By the gods boy that was a performance.'' He smiled broadly. `` I think we need to have ourselves a talk.''
He's afraid of me. He should be.
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[ WP ] Only a time traveling Adolf Hitler dressed as Batman can unravel the dark and mysterious secret behind the numbers that appeared over everyone 's heads at Hogwarts .
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One time, I dropped acid.
As the trip began, I decided to watch some porn.
I fell headfirst into the computer screen.
When I opened my eyes, I was stranded in space. A red giant burned below me. It looked a little bigger than the Sun, but it must have been a billion miles away.
A passing spaceship shaped like a donger picked me up. Its only crewmember was a tall Russian lady. She told me was a disgraced bounty hunter, exiled from her home system and searching for new worlds and new jobs.
Her ship was running out of power, and she admitted she only picked me up because she was afraid to die alone.
As the scrubber failed and the ship's air grew thick with carbon dioxide, we made love.
I pulled out and came on the floor.
I stared into the puddle of boysyrup and read a better prompt than this.
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[ IP ] An Interesting Proposition
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“ NO! ” A large creature roared, his humanoid face scrounged up as he roared. The rough branchy body of it backed away, the floor vibrating with each step. “ I will not do it. ”
“ But why not? ” A little dog-like creature whined, tail flapping in the breeze. “ It ’ s a wonderful thing I offering you. Why are you refusing? ”
“ They are not toys! We should not mess with them; we should not even communicate with them. ”
“ They did that. ” The little creature walked toward one side of the large creature, pointing with his paw toward the burn marks.
“ I made a mistake, I got clumpy and they saw me. ”
“ That ’ s a shitty excuse. ” The little creature jumped out of the way, screaming “ whoa, ” as the large creature slammed his foot in front of it.
“ You know how I feel about swearing. ”
“ Sorry, big guy. But seriously, we should attack them. ”
“ No means no. ” The large creature started to crawl away. The little creature followed.
“ They ’ re stupid, they aren ’ t worth our protection, and they aren ’ t worth anything. They are maggots, writing in filth, selfish little maggots that want our land. ”
“ Let them. ”
“ Don ’ t be stupid, now. We ’ re supposed to be protecting this forest. I ’ m going to attack them with or without you. If I lose, then you ’ re going to die as well once they clear out this forest. Then we both fail. ” The little creature jumped in front of the large creature, stopping it. “ Do it for the forest. You ’ re as big as their weapon. I can attack them; you just focus on repelling their weapon. ”
“ You really think they would kill us? ” His face softened.
“ Yes, we ’ re in the way, big guy. They kill whoever gets in their way, one way or the other. ”
The large creature sighed. “ Fine. But I do not like this one bit, we aren ’ t supposed to be killing any creature. ”
“ Yes we are, if they ’ re hurting the forest. Then fuc- er, screw them. ” The little creature tensed his legs, getting ready to jump in case. But the large creature ignored his little stammer.
“ Lead the way then. ” The large creature spoke after a moment of silence. The little creature ran, leaving a faint green trail behind. The large creature crawled, following the green trail. The heavy forest started to thin out as the bright blue sky lightened to orange. The large creature started to hear a roar that doesn ’ t sound like anything living.
“ Hey big guy, over here. ” The green trail led to a large bush. “ We ’ re here. Here ’ s the plan, I scouted them. Their little ride is heavily armored, but if you knock it over to the side, it ’ s useless. Then once you ’ re done, we ’ ll both attack them. ”
The large creature softly peered its head through the bush, in front of them was a large group of four limbed, bipedal creature. They were inside large yellow creature that shifted awkward and doesn ’ t seem to have any limbs to walk with. It seemed inanimate as it roared and roared, never ending, never pausing to take a breathe.
“ Hey, watch out! ” One of the creatures screamed as the tree fell down.
“ They speak our tongue. ” The large creature whispered to the little creature.
“ So what, they just killed that tree in front of us. ” The little creature growled. “ Shall we? ”
The large creature ignored it. It charged out of the bush, before the bipedal creature could notice it, one of their yellowish creature were on its side. The little creature barged out and attacked the closest bipedal creature. Red liquid spurted out of it, soaking the little creature.
The large creature stared at the bloody mess. The little creature screamed as it charged toward the others. The large creature growled and charged toward the little creature. “ Enough. ” It growled.
“ What ’ s wrong, big guy? A little too late to back down now, don ’ t you think? ”
“ They ’ re alive. They don ’ t deserve this, even if they are destroying our forest. ”
“ They don ’ t deserve this? They did that. ” It pointed to the burn mark again. “ They don ’ t give a flying crap about you. They only care for themselves. ” It took a breath and started to speak again, but a large yellowish creature pushed the large creature aside and smashed against the little creature.
The large creature ’ s eyes widen, and then narrowed. It charged at the yellow creature beside it, knocking it to the side. The bipedal creature inside whimpered as the large creature stood up on its hind leg, and pushed down his front legs hard, smashing the yellow creature inward, blood spewed out of the twisted metal.. It trotted toward the little creature, which was rasping.
The large creature gently bit down on it and carried it to the bushes they were recently hiding out. “ You ok? ” It asked.
“ It ’ s ok, big guy. I ’ m fine, just need to rest… ” The little creature coughed. This only angered the large creature further. The large creature ran out to the clearing, knocked the entire yellow creature on their side. The bipedal creature ran toward a direction, but they never made it out of the clearing as the large creature stepped on them without effort.
“ Wow, big guy… remind me to piss you off when the need arise. ” The little creature limped out of the bush.
“ It isn ’ t over, is it? ” The large creature stood still, feeling the wet red puddle beneath its feet.
“ Sadly not, we just started a war. ”
“ Then so be it. ”
-042
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[ CW ] Write a story with only six sentences .
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The leaves filtered the silent mornings light into a cascade of green. In the stilness of the morning, an old man sat on his porch of a country house and awaited the long day before him. Out of the dge of dawn came a silent intruder, a white tail deer nimbly exploring the grassy knoll. the old man stiffened to suppress any sound so as to not scare the tresspasser. Suddenly panic spread his chest felt tight, his arm felt a shot of pain, and his stubborn lipsstiffled a cry, the deer took no notice and bedded to digest. His last view of this life a fawn joining it's mother on the grass, surrounded by the serenity of life; not to be disturbed by this man's inevitable demise.
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[ WP ] The Grim Reaper decides it would rather keep you as company in Limbo . Rather than deliver your soul to heaven or hell .
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“ I am the Grim Reaper. ” A deep voice bellowed out from the darkness. *What the hell? Where am I? Who the hell is this weirdo dressed up in the black robe? * A hooded figured emerged from the dark clouds surrounding me. *Holy hell, is that a scythe? Why would- who would have that? What the hell is going on? *
“ Please, please, just call me Grim. Mr. Reaper is my father ’ s name. ” The Grim Reaper, err, Grim laughed flamboyantly as he playfully flicked his aged, boned wrist. Grim let out an exhaustive sigh as he wiped fake tears off of his face, “ But, seriously Grim is more than fine. Hell, Grimmy is a-okay in my book if you ’ re up to the challenge. ” Grim poked me in the ribs with his sharper than average elbow. I ’ d poke back with my sharper than average wit if I wasn ’ t scared that he ( she? It? ) was into that kind of thing.
Two feet slid out from the bottom of the robe and landed gently on the ground. Grim leaned his right shoulder against the scythe and popped his hip to the left. Grim ’ s left hand slowly found its way to his left hip and came to rest. “ You know, I don ’ t have to send you to your Judgment ” Grim said as his right hand traced circles around my body. “ You could just stay here with me. Forever. ” Chills ran down my spine as I registered how long forever lasts. “ Or, at least until next Tuesday. I ’ m just saying, think about it. ”
And with a loud bang and a dark puff of smoke Grim was gon- Grim ’ s back.
“ Sorry, sorry, really sorry about that. ” Grim half-joking said. “ Old man Ferris fell down the staircase in the old folks home and I had to be there to catch him at the bottom. If you know what I mean. ” Grim leaned in and elbowed me once more.
I couldn ’ t even crack a smile. This whole experience was too surreal.
“ I guess you had to be there. So, did you think it over? ”
“ What? ”
“ Me. You. Here together. *Eternity*. ”
“ Do I have any other choices? ”
“ Nope. ”
“ Alright, I guess here it is. ”
“ Great! Then, let ’ s get started. ” Grim shoved his hand into his pocket.
“ Wait. Started with, wha-
“ Oh look! Ice breaker flashcards. Right here in my pocket. How unexpected. ” Grim trailed off. Grim shuffled the deck and looked back my way, “ I ’ ll get the ball rolling then. Who ’ s your *favorite* Grim Reaper? ” Grim added emphasis on a key word. “ Oh my, who would put that question in here? ” Grim chuckled.
“ Uhh, you. Grim. Yeah? ”
Grimm gasped. “ You called me Grim. ” Grim threw the index card up and over his head. “ Next question! What ’ s your favorite color? ”
“ Blue. ”
“ Mine too! How crazy. ” Grim snapped to attention and pointed behind me “ Oh gosh! What ’ s over there? ”
Grim caught me off guard. I turned to see the mysterious object but all I could see was black. “ Grim, I can ’ t see anything. Where am I loo- ” As I turned back towards Grim the darkness was gone and was replaced with a deep blue hue. There was nothing but deep blue for miles in every direction. “ Uh, what ’ s with the blue? ” I asked.
“ Oh no, you don ’ t like it? Too dark, too light, too blue? ”
“ Too dark, I suppose. ” It was far too weird was the real problem.
“ Oh gosh! That thing over there is back again! ” nervously shouted and pointed back to nowhere in particular.
“ Grim. There ’ s nothing back there is there? ” I know full well that nothing is there. Grim knows I know nothing is there.
“ It ’ s… really… huge. And scary. Oh! Scary, yes. It ’ s really scary. Trust me, just look at it. Over there! ” Grim continued to point.
“ I ’ m not looking Grim. ” I stood my ground firmly for the first time.
Grim immediately grabbed his scythe and raised it above his head as a deep chill cold entered the area and black clouds bubbled out from behind him. Grim pointed with his free hand and in a deep devilish scream Grim ’ s voice pierced through me, “ *Look behind you. Now! * ”
A chill was sent though my entire body. Slowly, I turned my head. I closed my eyes as I was sure that death was my reward for angering Grim. Nothing was behind me, we both knew that. But, soon, there will be nothing in front of me either. I waited for the cold embrace of the scythe. Yet, nothing happened. I slowly opened one eye. Blue. All I could see was blue. Not deep blue. It was a lighter and more neutral blue.
“ So, where were we? ” Grim was back to his slightly higher pitched and more playful tone. “ Ah, yes! Right. If I was your favorite weekend activity ” Grim paused and looked my way, “ what would you be doing to me? ”
My spine still shivered from the thought of Grim ’ s powers. He could wipe out my soul in an instant. Yet all Grim has only asked questions since I came here. Oh, and kill that one old guy. But, Grim has mostly just asked stupid question. An honest answer could possible work out for me. “ Rock… rock climbing. ” I managed to spit out.
“ Oh, nice. Straight to the point and not too playful. My kind of style. Favorite band? ”
“ Limp Bizkit. ”
“ Ha! Alright, grea- Wait. I ’ m sorry what? ” Grim became serious.
“ L- Limp Bizkit? ”
“ Oh, no. That can not do. That simply can not do. ” Grim was visually upset. “ I ca n't keep repeating the same mistakes.'' Grim was chocked up. `` I thought you were different. ” Grim paced around the neutral blue room. He stopped, spun, looked at me and shouted “ I thought we had *something. Something special! * ”
Grim continued to pace around the room and spoke to himself.
Grim stopped and looked my way. He had made a decision. He sounded sad and almost regretful, “ You know, I can tell a lot about a guy from just a couple of questions. And I can tell you where you ’ re going next. ” Grim paused in an attempt to regain composure, “ I can give you a hint.'' Grim fought back tears. `` Look up. ”
Unable to grasp the seriousness of Grim ’ s actions, all I could do was obey. I looked up.
“ Not that way. ”
Grim smacked the bottom of the scythe onto the ground. A trap door opened under my feet and I fell into the dark abyss below.
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[ WP ] You are a superhero your power Necromancy
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I do n't know why I thought so heavily about being a hero. In all honesty, the past few days have been a blur to me thanks to family issues. My mother has n't stopped crying, and my father refuses to talk to anyone. As for myself, I've tried to keep my mind off of things with walks in the park with my friends. My friends, however, are n't normal.
I've had powers since I was a teenager. It started when came home one day to find my German Shepherd, Cooper, had passed away while I was at school. I felt the same blur that I feel now, as I never knew life without him. My parents had him longer than they had me. We buried him in the backyard, with a makeshift headstone over his body. A week later, in the dead of night, I saw him outside. However, Cooper was n't normal. An eerie purple glow emanated from him, and his body had begun to rot in places.
Initially, I was freaked out. Cooper was dead, there was no way he could be alive. I walked quietly down the stairs and sneaked outside, where Cooper was waiting for me, ready to play. It was all so surreal to me. He was clearly dead, with parts of his body eaten away, but he acted like he was young and full of energy. I found a stick that I used to use with him and tossed it across the yard. Cooper ran to it, picked it up, and brought it back to me like it was nothing to him. I tossed it a few more times before I accidentally threw it over the fence. However, instead of his usual whimper, Cooper ran *through* the fence to grab it. He could n't bring the stick back, as it was still a solid object, but the fact of the matter was there: Cooper was some sort of ghost.
It was then that I found out that I had the power to raise the dead, both corporeal and non-corporeal, and communicate with them.
I never told my family about it. They would think I was living a childish fantasy, unable to let go of deaths. The only other person that knew was my wife Grace and my best friend Steven. Grace and I never talked about it, as it spooked her. It was her firm belief that people were dead for a reason, and that they should stay that way. Steve, however, would always ask to talk to his grandmother. The two of them baked together when she was alive, so he would always ask her for advice and recipes.
Cooper walked beside me tonight, along with a few other woodland creatures I had come to care for. He had become a skeleton, as his body had decayed over the years. I told him about my woes of the past few days in a monotonous tone rather than my usual upbeat one. It was obvious that grief had taken its toll on me. Our conversation was stopped short by the shouts of a man and a woman.
`` Give me the purse right now, lady,'' the man shouted, `` or else I'll show you what this can do!''
`` I-I do n't have anything for you,'' the lady cried. `` Please, do n't hurt me, I promise there's nothing in there!''
I turned to look at the commotion as Cooper and the rest of my friends dissipated. A large man with a large knife threatened a young woman who clutched her bag as if it were her child. Tears streamed down her face as the man inched ever closer to her.
The knife in his hand forced something in me to click. *'' No,'' * I thought to myself, *'' I wo n't let it happen again. It does n't need to happen again. `` * I started to walk over and shouted, `` What do you think you're doing?''
The man turned around to face me, his knife still trained on the lady. `` And who the hell do you think you are?'' He began to make his way towards me, but as he tried to move his legs, skeleton hands burst from the ground and held him still. `` Wh-What the hell? What's going on?''
`` You are n't going anywhere,'' I told him as the lady ran away. I felt a rage that I only ever felt once before in my entire life. My body pulsed with the power that I had. I raised my hand, and along with it, a skeleton arm. It grabbed around his neck and began to drag him down.
`` N-No! Help me! I do n't wan na die!'' the man cried as he clawed at the skeleton hand. His feet were being dragged into the ground, and soon enough, his back was pressed up against the grass.
`` You're not going to die,'' I told the man as I knelt down to his level. `` I'm going to do a lot worse to you.'' I placed the palm of my hand an inch above his chest, and with a swift blow, I knocked the soul out of him. It flew through the ground, lost among the dirt and rock. The man was still alive, but in the most basic sense of the word. He would return to normal only when his soul found his body again.
I stood back up and retracted the skeleton hands. I felt the adrenaline pump through my body, and as I looked up, I finally realized why I wanted to be a hero.
Grace stood in front of me, the familiar purple glow around her. Her clothes were stained red from the stab wounds in her body. Beside her was our daughter, Cassie, with the same purple glow. Her neck was bruised from where adult hands had choked the life out of her. Neither of them talked to me, but rather, stood at a distance as a reminder.
All people that have died are dead for a reason. Sometimes, though, they did n't have to. I'm here to make sure that they do n't.
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[ WP ] The first salesman to sell bottled water pitches to local businesses .
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When I was in business school, there was something my marketing professor told me that I never forgot. `` The key to a successful pitch is n't convincing people to want your product,'' he'd said. `` It's to make people afraid of not having it.''
Man, it's fucked up but true. Nothing makes people shell out their money faster than when you convince them that living without your product is worse than being a few dollars poorer.
And it's honestly hard to believe that nobody thought of this before I did. Come on -- municipal tap is free; all you got ta do is buy a shack somewhere with municipal piping, fill up some bottles, and sell it back at whatever price you like. The sell? Fear of tap water.
`` Do you know what's in your tap water?'' I'd ask my client. `` I mean, what's really in it.'' That was for the health food stores. `` Did you know that there are microscopic transmitters in municipal water?'' That was for the alt-med nut with the shop that reeked of weed. `` This water is bottled at the source and it tastes fresher.'' That was a pretty basic opener, but it got people interested, I guess. Everybody has an angle; it's just a matter of finding it.
P.T. Barnum, the circus guy, had that saying: `` There's a sucker born every minute.'' And scared suckers like to spend money.
I'm going to hell one day, but at least I'll be rich.
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[ WP ] `` The ghosts ? Oh , they 're frightening of course . But they 're victims too , of a much more eldritch power ... ''
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Breathe.
Do n't think. Just breathe.
They can not hurt you, even if they so desired.
Fear not their disturbing gaze. Fear not their desperate, clawing hands. Fear not their silent screams.
They can not bring you harm.
Breathe child. Do not think, for it will breed fear. Fear will make you as them.
Walk. Do not halter on the path lit by candles. Do not let doubt cloud your mind, for it will set your fate in the cold stone.
Walk. Doubt not the darkness before you. Doubt not the void around. Doubt not your purpose.
Stop. See, child. See the beast before you.
See the ancient, unmoving flesh. See the slender limbs lacking bone. See the eyes, appearing and disappearing, blank to the world.
Do not waver, child. Must not fear it. Walk by and breathe. It can not hurt you unless you believe it so.
Should the slightest amount of fear cloud your mind, there will be no escape.
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[ WP ] You die and awaken to a room filled with black cloaked figures . You are asked to be the first and only human ''grim reaper '' .
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I woke up amongst a room full reapers in black shrouds, each looking down at me with heavy glares. Each face had carved-out eyes and milk-white bones, but not a single one looked the same. There was n't a sensation in the room, no sound, no warmth, no cold only bones and black cloth.
`` We have chosen you,'' one spoke.
`` To join our tribe,'' another responded.
The voices rung out all around me, and at times the speakers were indistinguishable among the swarms of black cloth.
`` There's some mistake,'' I told them. Realizing I was in the nude, I covered my privates with a hand, at least.
`` Be proud of your heritage,'' a voice rang out. `` You are the first of your kind who has been invited.''
`` But I'm a doctor,'' I yelled back. `` I do n't kill people. I prevent people from dying.''
`` This is true. You did,'' they responded. `` We've offered this honor to you for a reason. You understand the fickle balance between life and death. You have watched us work, and we have watched you.''
`` You consider our work to be sacred,'' a thin voice called out. Stepping through, between the crowd of black robes, was a dwarf of a reaper. `` You do not treat us lightly,'' she said.
`` But I also do n't support it... *death, *'' I told her.
`` None of us do,'' she responded, and smiled. `` You could return to your simple life. We would not fault you for it.''
With that the dark room disappeared, each cloak flailing into dust, and I found myself back at the hospital, resting my head at the edge of Sandra's bed as I did before the dream. The ring I bought her still sparkled from the light pouring in through the window, even as her hands grew gray. The voice of the dwarf continued to speak.
`` Your life, however, would not last very long.''
The monitors beside Sandra's bed started to screech, her body flailing around, unconscious.
I reached for her and suddenly the room was black once more.
`` This is not the first attack she experiences. By the time she finally wakes, you would be gone, and she would find herself alone in this world.'' The dwarf approached me and placed a held my hand between her bony fingers. `` You already know the extent of the damage. She will not be the same.''
`` So you expect me to kill my own wife?'' I yelled at her.
`` We do not expect things here. Death is the only certainty in the world. We are giving you the exclusive right to make it a choice.''
`` So what? You're going to give me a scythe and I'm supposed to go around killing?''
`` Each of us has our own weapon,'' she smiled. `` The weapons of humans... is unique.''
With a smile, she disappeared, and I woke from my dream. Lying beside Sandra's bed, I lifted my eyes up look at her. Her hair was scattered across her pillow, distressed from her most recent seizure.
`` I love you,'' I whispered to her, as I kissed her on her forehead, my lips leaving a black mark. `` I always will.''
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[ EU ] You are a body builder of average intelligence , until one day , you are exposed to high levels of beta radiation from a freak accident . Whenever you get angry , your IQ grows exponentially , depending on the difficulty of a problem you 're facing . Today , you are staring into the eyes of the Hulk .
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( This probably wo n't be as good as the others but I wanted to take a swing at it. Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. )
IQ...
IQ is not determined by how much knowledge you have. IQ is determined by how well you can examime a problem and determine a solution.
Brain over brawn is what I say. However, today, I'm not so sure...
As I stare into the eyes of the massive green beast, I ca n't help but feel a sense of dread. As if this could be end of me...
No... I ca n't let this be the end! This sunavabitch does n't know who he's messing with! I can feel my blood boil as the neurons in my mind fire off like bullets from a gun. The veins in my neck flare out as if they're trying to escape the all-knowing rage they will have to endure.
Time slows down to a near halt. I can see everything...
I ca n't move much while time is this slow but I can see, and that's all I need.
Hulk is known for his brute force but not much else. I need to create a trap. Something that can calm his rage while also subduing him.
I begin the calculations in my mind. Hulk's estimated size and weight will play a huge factor in figuring this out.
The schematics in my mind are too long to complete rapidly. He needs to be stunned for only a moment.
Time begins to speed up.
I get to work on a hover board. What would normally take several people days, weeks, or even months will take me not more than 20 seconds.
Hulk sees me at work and decides to engage. A powerful yet predictable intiation.
I complete a rudimentary board that gives me enough lift to propel myself out of Hulk's reach.
`` Hulk will throw a car at me.'' The voice in my mind says.
Hulk walks to the nearest vehicle and tosses at me.
I do a swift movement to the right while I begin construction on my next gadget.
A brute attack against the master of brute force is pointless. My goal is to confuse and subdue. I throw my flash grenade towards hulk and fly far away. This stupid bastard is n't gon na like this.
The flash creates an angrier hulk who begins flailing around hitting anything he feels. Now's my chance.
I fly down the street more and begin work on my next project. This is what my delays have been leading up to. I begin construction, using whatever I see around me.
A few screws missing here or there are acceptable. I gulp as I can tell Hulk is recovering.
Hulk shakes his head a few times and makes direct eye contact with what he assumes is me.
`` Hey, you pre-mature imbecile. Come and aquire the magnificent harm I have waiting you.''
`` Gruh?'' Hulk mumbles
`` You're dumb! I smash!''
`` GRAHHHH!'' He moves quick for someone his size.
He tackles the man my voice came from but is surprised to see that he dives right through me.
As my cloaking device gives out at the precise time, I calculated, the Hulk can now see that he is currently trapped inside a massive toddler bed.
The bars are not strong or very high but the plan is no longer to trap him. Its to calm him.
A large mobile comes out that plays soothing music. Hulk stares at it.
The mobil has pictures of cute cars and flowers. Slowly, I see his breathing relax.
As he stares at it, his greenish color begins to fade as he reforms into Doctor Banner who is currently unconscious.
My mind delivers a gut wrenching signal of pain that I ca n't endure. My mind has never had to work this hard before..
Not a moment later, I too lose consciousness
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[ WP ] Write a sentence that is not true then explain why you wish it were true
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``'Almost there, see you in ten minutes'''
Each word fell off my blue lips with more difficulty than the previous.
The officer looked up from his notepad at my eyes, `` And when did she text you that?''
`` 8:57''
He looked down at his watch and scribbled again on his small pad. He lifted his gaze and looked at my pitiful eyes staring at the asphalt. His mouth parted as if to say some consoling words but no sound came. I glanced upwards at his face, dimmed by the blue and red lights flashing behind him. `` I'm sorry ma'm,'' he mumbled, `` accidents happen.''
I pulled the blanket around myself tighter, the cold exposed my rapidly increasing breathing. Each exhalation allured tears to make their way down my face, perhaps to obscure the debris scattered across the neighborhood street. The scrappy ruins standing on its side held no similarity to the Ford Escort that we bought her for her sixteenth. Was it only 9 months ago?
I peered on my shoulder where a black glove rested. I raised my frigid face and surveyed my husband's vacant eyes. `` We ought to be going now, there's nothing left for us to do.'' His voice held none. An emptiness lay underneath his mutilated heart. He led my exhausted, compliant body towards the car.
Through the foggy passenger window I beheld my blanketed daughter. My hollow daughter. My hallowed daughter.
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[ WP ] A man realises that the figure in his mirror is the original , and he is simply a reflection .
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miJ felt out-of-control with his life. But, now he felt really out-of-control. As in his body had walked into the bathroom, grabbed his toothbrush and did all his morning procedures. At the same time all of his memories washed over him as if they were created anew. this whole experience made miJ question his existence.
miJ remembered reading something on the internet about how do we know the universe did n't just start and we had our memories infused in our minds. miJ, being the amazing philosopher that he was, asked how he knew that he was n't just the reflection in a mirror and his existence would last the time it took to brush his teeth. This began to worry miJ. He did n't take that long to brush his teeth. He had really bad hygiene. He should work on that if, in the unlikely event, did not end in the matter of seconds.
miJ was forced to spit in the sink and put his toothbrush back in its place. He realized that this toothbrush might outlive him because it never went out of the mirror. miJ gave one last look in the mirror and walked out of the room.
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[ WP ] All your life you slaved in the mines , hauling the black rocks to your master . You hear the masters mad laugh , `` Ho Ho Ho ! `` , he demands more rocks .
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Claus gave a hearty chuckle as he slammed the cage door shut in my face, and a chorus of giggling reindeer answered him. Behind them, I could see the faces of the elves staring helpless from their frosty workshop windows. None of them dared speak up against Santa's oppression; they were only one step up from those of us down in The Hole, and it was n't a very high step either. Any word of disagreement would see them promptly `` reassigned'' to this icy hellscape, and making toys was certainly a lot cushier than clawing coal out of the icy walls. But naughty children need their gifts too, so here we are.
Old Frosty was the king down here, and no one could ever remember when Santa had first thrown him into the pit. He'd chew on his old corncob pipe and bark out orders for everyone else to meet the daily coal quota. The other guys in The Hole hated me from *minute one*. Why? Because I was new, and different. Same as any shit assignment: once you've been doing it long enough, you grow to hate anyone who has n't had to suffer the way you have. But Frosty? He had a special grudge against me for one simple reason: I was a reindeer.
Yeah, that's right. I used to be one of *them*. At least, that's how the guys in The Hole saw it. I'd been cushioned and pampered just like the other reindeer, playing games instead of working and cavorting around in the sky. I tried to explain it to them: that the other reindeers were all dicks, and they'd abused me in every possible way. But that explanation just earned me the most savage beating of my entire life from the other workers. I learned to keep quiet about my past after that. Old Frosty had been one of them too. Word was that he and Claus had been the best of pals long ago, and there'd been some kind of falling out. No one knew exactly what had happened, but the rumor mill tended to work overtime down here with nothing to do but talk in between swings of the pickaxe. Some claimed that old Mrs. Claus had taken a liking to Frosty's long pointy nose. Others claimed that Santa grew jealous of children's affections, and wanted to knock out a rival when he had a chance. All I know is that Frosty hated the jolly bastard, and he took it out on me.
There was a cave-in about six months in, and our power was cut off. My time to shine, eh? The other workers soon discovered what had set me apart from the other reindeer, and with me leading the way we were all able to find another exit from The Hole. See, Claus only strung lights through the mine where he had to. There were all sorts of icy crevasses and dark pits that no one cared to go down and explore. But once they saw what I could do, we discovered a passage around the cave-in. A passage *out of The Hole! * And we began planning our escape that very day.
Old Frosty got jealous. He had n't been down in the dark with us, and he was n't part of this new brotherhood. Loyalties down in The Hole began to shift as they realized that Frosty had never actually *done* anything to earn his leadership. He was just in charge because he outlasted everyone else. I knew that, and he knew that. And he was determined to make sure that he *continued* to outlast the others, starting with me.
A pair of snowy hands gave me a strong shove from behind as I was heading deeper into the mine over a narrow icy bridge. I toppled over the side of the ledge and down into the gaping black maw below. The fall would have killed pretty much anyone, except Frosty forgot one thing: I was a fucking *reindeer*. And we can fly.
I swooped up behind him as he was chortling with his little toadies about how easy it was. I slammed straight into him, leaving a reindeer-sized hole in his rotund midsection. That just pissed him off even more. A whooping and chanting crowd gathered around us as we circled each other; loyalties were forgotten as the rest of the men just wanted to see a good fight. My nose was like a damn fire engine siren, glowing brighter than I'd ever seen it.
We tussled for an hour till I finally found the right strategy: it was the damn *hat* of his! I knocked it off and it fell squarely between my antlers, looking quite stylish. Old Frosty just stared, face frozen in one last horrified glare as he realized what was happening. Just for good measure, I bit the tip off of his long orange nose and glared around the circle, *daring* any of his little friends to defy me. No one stepped forward, and I left the now-lifeless snowman as a warning to future challengers.
`` Here's the deal,'' I announced to everyone, claiming my spot as leader of the The Hole. `` We're getting out of here. You're free to leave if you'd like, and good luck out there on the frozen tundra. But *I* have some unfinished business with the old man and his little reindeer friends. If anyone *else* would like to have a conversation with him about their treatment down in The Hole, then stick with me. It'll be an ass-kicking that will go down in history.''
-- -- -
And if you liked this story you should also visit /r/Luna_Lovewell!
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[ WP ] Every birthday you get a skill point you can unlock points with or upgrade skills .
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When you put all your points into a single skill, they call you a specialist.
Darren was a special kind of specialist.
He did n't choose intelligence, or strength, or charisma like the rest of us. His mother tried to convince him to spread out his points. Darren would have none of it.
Once, I remember we were sitting outside in the park, celebrating his birthday. Four of us had to carry the cake - a massive, jiggling, pink monstrosity - all the way over to the picnic table. Darren sat there, smiling, as if the cake was n't a complete surprise, as if he had *ordered* it to come to him.
We lit the candles, and I overheard Darren's mother talking to him, `` Darren, *so help me*, you're going to make yourself sick if you dump *all* of your points into that.''
`` No, I wo n't,'' he said, and you could almost hear the steam whistling out of his mother's ears. It might've been easier for her to swallow, his insubordination, if he was n't always - and I mean *always* right.
Years later, I was n't surprised to discover that Darren became the first astronaut to walk on mars. He also owned the Space-faring company that got him there. When he was done with that, he went on to discover the cure for poverty. He was well on his way to ruling the world.
See, he was never the strongest, or the brightest, or the best of us. His mother worried he would n't make it far in life, but Darren was stubborn. She would fuss, and cry, and scream. Every year, he ignored and dropped another point into his Willpower.
Darren always got what he wanted.
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[ WP ] Every way to die works like Chicken Pox : If you get it once and survive , it can never happen to you again .
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The gunmetal feels cold to the touch of my temples. Another shot. Bigger caliber this time. Maybe I'll actually die this time. Maybe not. After all it is yet another routine in my life.
I remember the immunisation shots before we went to Vietnam. Me and Craig, taking 5.56 mm to 7.62 mm rounds for breakfast. I always puked after every shot. He just laughed and gave me a hand.
The military said you ca n't die. It's true. Young hot-blooded men rushed the frontlines against hails of bullets as though they were flies. It was a truly bizarre spectacle.
But the military lied. The top brass always do. As I cradled Craig's head and tried to staunch the gaping.50 caliber hole in his chest then did I realise the lie within Craig's dull blank eyes.
I have committed suicide regularly for 3 years after the war. The military said what does n't kills you makes you stronger.
What they did n't tell me was that no one has ever survived dying on the inside.
I have been dead since I saw my reflection in Craig's eyes. And I continue to die inside as I live.
Maybe one day I'll get immune to this.
The Beretta kicks in my hand.
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[ WP ] Describe a world of magic that runs on math .
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The standard model of physics postulates that the forces derive from gauge quantum field theory where the group of internal symmetries is SU ( 3 ) x SU ( 2 ) x U ( 1 ). These three groups give rise to the charges of the fundamental forces, gravity not included.
`` The standard model is quite well studied, and at this point, is rather hard to refute. But there are attempts to go beyond it; to see whether we could have a larger gauge group that contains within it SU ( 3 ) x SU ( 2 ) x U ( 1 ). And this larger group could come with more fields and more forces we do not yet have a theory of. I believe I have discovered a most remarkable way to extend the gauge group to account for a rather long-known and yet often ridiculed theory.
Let us consider another field, in addition to those already existing, the E field, if I may coin a name for it, with another corresponding component to the gauge group. SU ( 3 ) gives rise to the most whimsically named of the known charges. Gluons have 6 fundamental charges, named red, green, and blue, as well as their `` anti'' colors, antired, antigreen, antiblue. A gluon has two of these charges, for example, red and antigreen. These charges can be thought of as the root lattice of SU ( 3 ) which forms a hexagonal grid in the plane, or, equivalently, a three dimensional lattice viewed along the x=y=z line from infinitely far away. These x, y, z coordinates become red, green, and blue lying on the hexagonal grid.
I remind you of these facts so that what I am about to say seems less implausible. Consider instead of SU ( 3 ), the group Sp ( 2, C ), the complex simplectic group. The [ root system of this ] ( http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Root_system # mediaviewer/File: Root_system_C2.svg ) has 4 directions ( and four anti-directions ), compared to the [ 3 of SU ( 3 ) ] ( http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Root_system # mediaviewer/File: Root_system_A2.svg ). The eluon, as I call the carrier particle for this field, would then have charges specified by *four* components like the three'colors' for gluons. What I call these, though, should at this point come as no surprise; earth, fire, water, and air. The ancient philosophers, I believe, we correct.
[ I wish I new enough to keep going down this idea. Corrections welcomed. ]
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[ WP ] A little girl is terrified of the monster under her bed , but she 's glad that it 's there : It protects her from the monster in the closet .
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Ellen was usually fearful of the thing that she called the Shadow Man. Only she could see him, but she knew he was real because he could do things, move things, interact with the real, waking world. At first she had been terrified of him. He looked like a walking mass of shadow and smoke that blurred the air around him, a truly horrifying image for a young girl to see, but after a while, she learned the Shadow Man could speak in a thin, wispy voice, and that he warned her in impending danger. He lived under her bed, slinking in and out of the shadows in there and that unnerved her, but with time, she knew he was good at heart, at least good for her. When asked where he came from, he only ever said that he lived in a world of darkness and that this was his only chance.
It was bedtime, like any other night, and Ellen was getting ready for bed. She slipped into the covers as her father shut off the lights, kissed her forehead, and wished her goodnight. When she shut her eyes and lay still and quiet, that's when she heard it. Breathing. Her body was telling her that something else was in the room. Not Shadow Man, he'd never intentionally scare her and he did n't breath. Something else was breathing. In the closet. Ellen whimpered with fear and started to cry softly. Then she saw the shadows of her room grow long and the shadow of her bed stretched out towards the closet and a dark mass passed through it, like the closet door was sucking up smoke. Then violent thumping and thrashing from inside. Ellen screamed.
When her parents came to the room, Ellen told them of the monster in her closet and inside was discovered the broken and beaten body of a man, an accused but never convicted child molester and kidnapper. Huge bruises on his body and terribly broken bones attested to some fierce combat, but ultimately the cause of death was ruled to be a massive heart attack. Bruising around the heart, the coroner found, appeared to have formed as if some force clamped the heart shut and prevented its action. It was a truly strange occurrence, a miracle some called it, but Ellen knew the truth, and she never feared the shadows from that day forth.
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( WP ) A story that begins with the end and finishes with the start but is thrilling the whole way through
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It begins -- or perhaps I should say it ends -- with blood and water. There is screaming. She is screaming and I am crying. I hit her over and over again, our voices a duet of pain and emotional release. I find it difficult to believe that any son sets out to kill his own mother, but there I was. I did n't realize, until she had fallen to the ground from the blows, how much she really loved me. I knew she loved me because she did n't try to fight back.
How did it get to such a point? It's her fault that papa died. She was arguing with him like she always does and he left the house angry. I cried for him and told him not to leave, but he did. He got on his bike -- the same bike he rode every morning on the trails -- and sped away while mama screamed and threw things at him. He was hit by a car only a mile away from the house.
But before that, before the explosion, the regret and the remorse, before all of that I saw mama kissing the stranger. I was out with friends, with Bobby and Edward. We were in the mall's parking lot fooling around like we always did, but I saw mama getting into a car with a stranger. She showed him something inside of a bag and then kissed him. It was n't a kiss that you'd give to anyone other than your lover.
And before that, even before the stranger, the times that mama would hit papa. She'd throw things at him. Slap him in the face and spit on him. He'd stand there and take it and I hated him for it. I would show her one day, I told myself. One day I would.
She gave birth to me at home in the very bathtub that I shower in. I was n't even papa's real son, but he treated me like I was. I never met my real father, but to me papa was the only father I had. She used to tell me how much pain I caused her, how she screamed and I cried. She told me I was useless. I was the child she never wanted, the labor she never forgave me for. It began, truly, with blood and water.
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[ WP ] Your parents have a clone copy of you , who is.. better . Faster , smarter , stronger . Genetic reengineering at its finest . And they are slowly forgetting about you . What are you experiencing/how do you react to this ?
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You know, the Clone sounded like a great idea in many ways. My parents never had a second child and they tried so hard. They figured it would be a great experience for them, and for me. I believed them; after all, being around someone who thinks the same as you, behaves the same as you, and has the same humour sounds like a lot of fun, right?
I was wrong. This damn clone is taking over my life. My parents adore it ( I refuse to call it'her' or'she', much less by my name ). Compared to the clone, I'm dated, outmoded. I'm slower, weaker, not as smart. This would n't even bother me, but for one thing. I'm being forgotten.
I no longer get a'good morning' when I come down the stairs. When they make tea, there's never one out for me. I do n't even get noticed when I leave the house. What the hell?! I mean, its just a clone, its not really me! So they wanted a second child, but do n't care about their first?!
I tried something the other day, just to find out. My mum, dad and my clone were in the dining room, eating their dinner. Mum had cooked, but once again, no serving for me. I yelled at them all, tried desperately to get their attention. No one so much as blinked. So I then went and got a knife out of the kitchen. I stood at the only empty seat, put the blade against my throat, pressing hard enough to draw a small line of blood, and threatened suicide. Surely they would look up then? Surely they cared at least that much? Then, I was surprised.
Oh, my parents did n't move. They did n't look up, did n't stop eating for even a moment. But the clone, the look on its face! A smirk so thick with malice I have never before seen. It did n't look up either, but I knew, just *knew* it was smirking at me. It was deliberately taking my place in the family.
It ignored me again, as did my parents, after that. I have had enough; I ca n't take it anymore. I have the knife again, but not for a fake suicide attempt. Tonight, I'm actually going to kill myself.
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[ WP ] Everytime you touch somebody you get a flash of your entire future with them .
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He must appear quite odd fully wrapped up in winter clothing on a relatively warm autumn day. Joe noticed the curious looks he received from the strangers on the walkway. He didn ’ t care.
“ Let them look ” he thought to himself while forming a fist with his hands. The gloves made some squeezing noises. Joe blushed – maybe did care a little after all.
“ They don ’ t know, it ’ s a matter of protection ” he told himself and ran through them carefully avoiding every contact possible. He felt like some sort of very agile dancer, dancing through the crowd in a club.
Finally after some time there were less people to worry about and he was able to take up more speed. He couldn ’ t miss that train. He had seen this train a few time in his visions before. “ The train with no destination ” Joe liked to call it – not that it had no destination, just the train scoreboard was broken and didn ’ t display anything.
“ My visions always led me here ” muttered Joe to himself. Joe ’ s visions have started occurring a few months ago. He didn ’ t talk to anybody about them. He didn ’ t understand them himself completely. It just started someday when he touched the cashier ’ s fingers while taking back his change. He suddenly saw Pictures of their future together. At first he thought he was dreaming. It seemed like some sort of nightmare. The pictures he saw were almost the same. The cashier handing out some change to him only his clothes, the amount charged for his breakfast and the date on the receipt varied. And then the Pictures stopped appearing and he was wearing his winter clothes on a seemingly mild day.
Since then Joe had tested his ability with other people. There were different Pictures but the Result was always the same. He saw himself in winter clothing rushing to the train with the broken scoreboard.
And now he was at the station the train in front of him. He recognized some people waiting for a train. “ Test subjects ” he had called them before.
He waved at a few of them. Most of them turned away as if they hadn ’ t seen him, some wove back and moved on. Joe didn ’ t waste any more of his precious time on thoughts about them, the train was about to leave.
He got in and was a bit disappointed. It was a normal train. Nothing special as he had assumed. But Joe was nobody to just give up. He removed the glove of his right hand and touched another passenger slightly on the back of his hand whilst moving forward. His ability kicked in instantly but there was only one picture – himself moving past the person.
Joe opened the eyes and moved past the person he had just touched and tried again with the next. The result stayed the same. What was happening? Why was his ability not working anymore? Joe ’ s heart began to beat faster. He started sprinting down the train wagon touching everybody but nothing changed.
Suddenly a strong pain struck him like he had never felt before and Joe fell on the ground grasping his chest. His vision started blurring and he heard the screaming of people.
“ Is there a doctor here? ” someone screamed.
“ We need a doctor! ” another Voice continued.
“ I ’ m a doctor, let me through ” heard Joe a woman saying. She came through the masses of spectators and started talking to him.
“ Can you hear me ” she wanted to know.
Joe closed his eyes and vaguely felt the touch of two soft fingers pressing against his neck.
No pictures appeared.
“ He has no pulse… ” the women said, then he lost consciousness.
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[ WP ] Instead of the four horsemen of the apocalypse , tell me a story of the four elemental horse maidens of creation .
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**Earth**
the multitude writhing under the moon
The dense material softened under sun, while the ethereal patterned,
Basking mud building without drying, figuring out of clay,
The material denotes and reports, in ledgers of pregnent forks
**Fire**
Th light shining on ambiguous animosities, unknown ammunition
Once and always recognized, never forgotten
The ultimate possibility always awaits
The stage built lowers in to death, but also rebirth
**Air**
The breeze will blow, damp or dry
Asking questions, good and bad
Eroding curves and Warping corners
blossoming spiral rainbows, revealing the teaching fruits and thickets
**Water**
The tide equalizes the trenches and the mountains
Forming reefs and dunes, the pieces take on blue fluidity
As one ends another begins
The droplets forming pure possibility
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[ WP ] The Islamic State is wiped out by a totally unexpected country in a totally unexpected way .
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The room shook as Ahmed all but fell out of bed. Another earth shattering crash as he ran to the window of his apartment tower block. The world seemed to be ending, it seemed that countries around the world had finally decided to carpet bomb their strongholds out of existence. He pulled back the dirty ref curtains and let out an choke. An eye. A giant eye.
As it moved past his window, Ahmed leapt back to the window and leaned out - There were no planes, no bombs - but a giant shining head, hundreds of feet in the air - below it, a towering silver body stretching down to the ground. On its back, a large red circle in a white flag. A distorted crackle came from what sounded like giant speakers on the humanoid mech, and began blaring out an unrecognisable song, and a yell of `` Kougeki!''. The giant form tensed and crouched, more of the figures slowly walking into the city visible behind it - A spin, a crash, and the floor seemed to fall away from underneath Ahmeds surprised body, and he knew nothing more.
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[ TT ] To pay rent in the underworld , a skeleton rents himself out to a haunted house attraction during Halloween .
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You would think that life would be easy after death. But noooo, instead of blissful torture, we get something worse down here. An exact replica of the over-world; rents, taxes, tuition fees to pay for your skele-kids to go to that fancy-shmancy expensive private school. Not to mention the increased job loss rate we have here. I used to be a successful second hand car dealer ( us dead still need to get around ). But with the terrible economy, I lost my whole job. Now me and my wife has to go to work. She works as a part time doggy toy ( as i said, good jobs are hard to come by ), which pays better than expected. Me? I got lucky and got a job as a full time decoration piece at a haunted attraction.
*lucky*
Now i hear you ask `` how hard can it be to be a decoration? ``, well let me tell you about my day.
I start work early during the evening when all honest-to-god skellies are still in their warm, fiery bed. I on the other hand have to go on the Bone-Sub half resurrected and transverse to the over world. A great start of a day.
*Great*
Then i have to cover myself with the excretions of those pesky arachnids to look `` scarier''. As if a real skeleton isnt scary enough. Then I have to hold my mouth agape for hours on the end while wannabe grim reapers, ghosts, werewolves and funky jars of peanut butter barely bats an eye at me, a REAL, BONE RATTLING SKELETON. And worse of all, this job requires me to hold completely still, even when those jars of peanut butter prods at my rib cage. Dont they know its extremely rude to poke a skelle? Those nuts.
At least today I have a new work buddy. Albeit disabled as he has to be wheeled in and his bone sounds a tick to hollow, but I am not the one to turn down a nice chat. So I reached out to shake his string tied hand.
`` Hello fellow skeleton.''
And that rude fella didnt even move a jawbone.
As I said, Lucky.
******
******
Feedback would be very much appreciated.
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[ WP ] At magic school graduation everyone 's familiar for life is introduced to them . Tigers , snakes , and even foxes . When it is your turn your magic summons moth .
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`` it's... a moth.''
`` A moth!''
`` The devil's butterfly!''
`` Oh forgive me oh great one for I did not know it was you.''
`` Wait what. You just asked me what my summon was.''
`` Do you not know the significance of a moth summon oh great one?''
`` Its just a moth right. I mean a black panther like yours would have been so much better.''
`` Not so. The devil's butterfly is only summoned once every 10,000 years. You have returned to us oh dark one.''
`` Indeed. Simply the summoning of the moth is enough to prove your identity oh grand one.''
`` You shall become the devil.''
`` You shall clense the world.''
`` You shall obscure all that is light in mud and darkness.''
`` Oh all mighty one.''
`` We must prepare for your coming at once.''
`` What are you two going on about?''
`` You have finally returned oh omniscient one.''
`` What's with the oh ones?''
`` We dare not incur your wrath oh powerful one.''
`` What are you two saying? It's making no sense.''
`` Oh grand moth summoner... one I prey ask that you call summons here so we may bask in its greyness.''
`` Erm sure.'' I held my hand above my head and from the light the moth fluttered onto it.
`` Oh lordful one.''
The man who had been groveling at his knees since I told him my summon. Looked up. Instantaneously turning into a grey dusy and collapsing into a new pile. On the floor.
`` Oh grand one. I ask for your mercy. It was not right for my friend to ask such a large request of you. I ask not for my life but only that you will peform the task before you. Live up to your destiny and beware of those with butterfly summons.''
`` Wait. No. I dont mean to kill you.''
`` If you will not kill me oh merciful one than I shall take my life into my own hands.''
The man then without a seconds thought slit his own throat. The crimson pool rapidly surrounding him as he cloaked to death.
What am I supposed to do now then. Beware of those with a butterfly summons. Like Anna. I liked Anna. She was nice. But now I'm in a room with a bright light, a moth and two dead people. Only one of which was recognisable. Now what.
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[ WP ] You 've kept your immortality secret for thousands of years . Thats going to be a lot harder now that your on a generation ship on a 2000 year voyage .
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The view out here is great. I can finally take it all in, and after thousands of years stuck on a single planet, I had experienced all there was.
So it was time for a change. I applied and boarded the ship with my fellow explorers, intent on expanding our knowledge. At least that's something I still have in common with humanity. Only their sacrifice is real, as I'll see our destination, while these individuals get brief glimpses of the journey. It's admirable.
But it presents a problem for me - I will see the end of this trip, and I ca n't let that be known. I could have tried deception, with what little good it would have done. We're too close, and humans too curious. It would just be a waste of my time and effort.
So the lawn chair tied to the top of the ship is a much better solution. And the view out here is great.
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[ WP ] A person sees people not as they visibly appear , but as the angel or demon inside them
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After the seizure everything changed for me. My life was okay, judging people based on their words and actions. It was unreliable, but there was a charm to that. Was it even a seizure? Could I have been touched by God himself? It was a relief to see that my immediate family was pure. I loved spending time with my parents and my brother, watching the bright auras swirl around them, love radiating from their smiling faces. I had to stop visiting some people. My grandfather fought in Okinawa and learned to enjoy the killing. He was already a bit of a hardass, but when I first saw him after my episode, I vowed to never go to that house again. I could smell sulfur on him. My dad obviously treated him normally, which made it that much harder to look at the man. His skin was covered in boils, hanging off of his bones in shreds around his neck. I could see his bare jawbone, rotted teeth jutting outward, gnarled and yellow.
I told myself I would never do it, but I could n't fucking help myself. I can barely handle watching CNN anymore. It's like watching a convention full of smiling corpses. I ca n't watch the news. I've abandoned the few friends who proved to be one of them. The worst was Greg. I had known him since high school, nothing ever seemed `` off'' about him. But to my surprise, he was a monster. I had to break contact. Shit.... I should never have done it. I took it out of my bathroom, left it sitting by the dumpster out back. I PROMISED myself that I would never do it. I got drunk. They did n't pick up the trash. I stumbled back out there and brought it back. I wish it would have been gone, I may have moved past the temptation. But now it's too late. It's over. Now I'm sitting here, loaded gun in hand. I have to end it. Why did I look in the mirror?
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[ WP ] You are a POW at a German camp . The General in charge of the camp , one of Hitler 's right hand men , likes to challenge men in the camp to duels at whatever the prisoner is best at to prove german superiority . If you beat him you are let go , if you lose you die . Today is your day to duel him .
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As I sat on my bunk, thoughts rushed through my head:
*What if I ca n't beat him? *
*There's literally nothing I'm good at! *
*Why can I hear myself thinking? *
But as I sat there and pondered, an idea came to the forefront of my mind. It was devious, cunning... everything deserving of an evil laugh. I began in earnest, but almost immediately a guard poked his head in and yelled `` NEIN! Zat is our job! 10 BEATINGS FOR EVERYONE!''
*Dammit. *
Well anyway, back to the story.
The duel was scheduled for 9:00 that evening, and I had to prepare. I worked myself down to the bone all day, harder than I'd ever worked before. Now, you may be wondering, `` Would n't working so hard be a disadvantage?'' Maybe, but I had a plan. It was devious, cunning... *wait better stop myself there. *
The rest of the day passed in a flurry of hard work, bad food, and screaming Germans. 9:00 rolled around, and the whole camp was summoned to the main courtyard. The general stepped out from a block of soldiers, and beckoned me out of the crowd. As I stepped forward, the general laughed and boomed out `` Vell then, ze mighty challenger approaches! What is your trial? I shall best you at it with ease!'' I smirked and called out `` I challenge you... to do nothing.''
*cricket cricket*
`` Wait... vat?''
`` You heard me. You might as well call it a lazy-off, if that would help.''
The general stood stock still, in abject confusion. He straightened, shook himself, and met my gaze. `` Very well. I accept your challenge.'' I clapped my hands and gleefully exclaimed `` Alrighty then! Let's get started. Lie down, first one to move loses.'' We slammed to the floor, and the competition began. For two days and three nights the battle raged, with absolutely no sound coming from either competitor. At the beginning of the third day, the general threw himself up and out the door, screaming `` ZIS IS MADNESS!'' all the way to the capital. All the prisoners burst out laughing, and the soldiers opened the gates and kicked me out.
I closed the diary with a satisfied look on my face, and turned to the history students. `` And that's how I turned the Germans into workaholics.''
**Feedback and criticism is appreciated. **
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[ WP ] Write about a smile .
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First time posting, be gentle. < 3
Seven AM, we sat around the table aside the memorial, sharing cups of lukewarm Kool-Aide and recounting old war stories. Conquests from a simpler time, we shared memories with the fluidity of a breath and recollected on minutes gone by that we never found reason to count until they were gone.
Shuffling cards across the waning wood of scuffed veneer, we slammed shots and sighed out the frustration as the burning sun wilted away into the gleaming moon. An unfamiliar feeling was found in the stretch of the tiers, pulling at the corners with sharp, rolling undulations of glee as laughter poured across the stones that surrounded us. The creak of table beneath warned of shifting weight as squinting eyes crushed shut until tears formed at their ridges and wept tears of jubilation so long ago forgotten.
As the chill of an approaching night greeted sighing lips, the eyes closed to find a moment's serenity, which soon saw it's self shattered at the sound of a new voice to it's back.
`` Sir, The Graveyard is closed for Visitor's after seven. ``
The creak of an old metal chair warned of a body's rising, and for a moment, if only seen by the second living soul at the graveside, the lips upturned at their corners and greeted the world with an infinitely small showing of joy that once flourished and now only bloomed in the most silent of winters.
`` Sorry man. I was just coming to see my brother. ``
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Two men come into your afternoon physics class in suits . They ask for you by name and demand you come with them . Without warning , your physics teacher pulls out a colt .45 and guns them down . He grabs you and darts out of the classroom , insisting he 'll explain later . [ WP ]
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Misha was half asleep. With one hand he supported his head, his knuckles pressing against his brow. He cradled his Tim Horton ’ s coffee in the other, letting the heat burn his palm through the thin paper. In the background Dr. Parker was droning on about exoplanet detection; something about calculating the planet ’ s orbit from the velocity of the star it orbits. *Only Parker could make alien planets so boring, * Misha mused. The class attendance steadily declined since the first day. Although that was not entirely unexpected - especially for a class at eight in the morning - barely two dozen of the hundred plus seats were filled. When the lecture hall was that empty, the sound tended to echo, making it all the more difficult to focus. The warm draft from the vent above Misha ’ s head did no favours for his alertness.
The slam of the door brought him out of his daze, causing him to nearly spill his coffee. The girl sitting on his left shot him a death glare; a few black spots nearly landed on her bag. Their silent feud came to a halt when they looked to the front of the room. Two men dressed in sharp suits - probably worth more money than Misha had to his name - stood in the doorway. They were both tall, easily over six feet, although the dark haired one was more slim. The blond had a solid build with a beard cropped close to his face. Misha decided they had just walked out of Quantico - or whatever the Canadian equivalent is.
The dark haired one spoke first. “ Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Parker, ” his voice was disarmingly pleasant; a warm and smooth register that invited trust. “ We need to talk to one of your students. ”
Dr. Parker stepped forward and cleared his throat, “ Look gentlemen, I ’ m sure this can wait until I ’ m finished my lecture. There ’ s only twenty minutes left. You ’ re welcome to listen in, ” he gestured to a cluster of empty seats in the front row.
The blond responded, his rough voice reflecting his appearance. “ Can ’ t do that, ” he turned to face the small crowd of students. “ If Mr. Misha Patel could please join us outside. ”
Mish froze. He hadn ’ t done anything wrong. Had he? His mind raced to think of the slightest action that could have warranted this visit, but he drew a blank. He began to reach down for his backpack. A quick chat could clear this whole thing up.
“ Don ’ t move Mr. Patel, ” Dr. Parker addressed the whole lecture hall. Misha realized these men didn ’ t know his face, they only had his name. Dr. Parker wanted to make sure it remained that way.
The dark haired one didn ’ t take well to Dr. Parker ’ s address. His dark eyes narrowed and a new sharpness cut through his smooth tone. “ This is a federal matter Doctor Parker. ” The agent and the professor locked eyes for a beat. “ Stand down, Joseph. ” *Wait, * Misha was thoroughly confused, *did they know each other? *
The blond agent began to stride toward the seats. The girl on Misha ’ s left - Rachel or something, he wished he had learned her name - began to shrink back in her seat. The whole class froze, unsure of what to do next.
The blond agent called to the class. “ Whoever the fuck points out *Misha* gets to live, alright? ” He gave a soft chuckle after his statement. No one spoke. But while the rest of the class focused on the blond, Rachel planted her eyes on Misha, if only for a moment. The action didn ’ t escape the blond ’ s notice, and he began to reach into his jacket and move towards Misha.
A deafening bang rang through the hall. Misha was sure he was dead. After he drew a breath he quirked an eye open. The blond agent held his hand against his chest. He swayed and looked towards his partner before collapsing in a heap on the stairs.
Dr. Parker stood at the front of the hall with a black gun in hand, now aimed at the dark haired agent. The dark haired agent whose own gun pointed directly at Misha. “ **Everybody out. Now! ** ” Dr. Parker roared with power in his voice Misha had never heard before.
A few muffled screams rang through the hall as the rest of the students ran for the doors. The hall was empty now, only Dr. Parker, the agent, Misha, and Rachel - who was unfortunately stuck between the wall and Misha. No one spoke.
Beside him, Misha could feel Rachel move. He wanted to hiss at her to stop, but was afraid to make a move. Dr. Parker began to speak, drawing the agent's attention. “ Duck, ” Rachel whispered. Misha did as told. Rachel grabbed his coffee and hucked it at the man. It spilled down the side of his arm, drawing his attention away for a split second.
A second bang echoed through the hall and the agent fell to his knees. “ Come on, ” Dr. Parker roared again, keeping the gun trained on the agent. Misha and Rachel bolted for the door behind Dr. Parker. A third bang echoed through the hall, and the agent collapsed. The yellow tiles were stained with red. Dr. Parker turned a ran towards the exit now, pulling Misha and Rachel behind him.
Once outside the hall, he ducked in the car park on the corner. He turned to face Rachel and Misha. “ I ’ m sorry, but I have to stay. ” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of car keys. “ My Honda is on the third level. Everything you need is in the glove box. *Now go*. ”
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Check out /r/liswrites for more of my work
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[ WP ] You are the monster at the end of the story
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I've always loved how they depict me. Big and hairy, slimy with tentacles, tall and covered in scales, a few even said that I was a clown. It seems to be different for everyone. And it is n't just children, adults are just as imaginative. For example, there was this man - a high profile mobster, thought himself to be untouchable - who saw me and was convinced I was some kind of massive spider.
I killed him. Made it look like a heart attack.
I'd wager that my Kill Count is up to around six thousand, although I lost track decades ago. I've taken Emperors, soldiers, freedom fighters, and even several rock stars in recent memory. When I'm summoned by the powers that be, I carry out my duties swiftly and without failure.
But then why am I here? If I am as great as my Résumé might imply, why was I summoned to the confines of a child's closet? I racked my ancient brain for answers but found none. I began to feel ashamed, interpreting my lackluster assignment as punishment for some previous wrongdoing. The shame festered inside me and each night I would scratch at the inside of the closet doors and hiss to the child while she slept in her bed.
The night on which she first witnessed me the stars in the sky were shrouded by thick clouds and fierce sheets of rain blew across the paved streets outside. She had been tossing and turning in bed for an hour and decided to get up to retrieve her dollhouse from the closet in which her mother regularly stored it.
When she tossed open the doors, I stood before her. She looked up at me and blinked impassively. I glanced down at her and waited for things to register, bracing myself for that shrill cry children often emit. However, she instead posed a question.
`` What're you doing in there?'' she asked, cocking her little head. When she did this, her long brown hair fell to one side.
`` E-Excuse me?'' I stammered.
`` Are you hiding?''
`` Hiding?''
`` Yeah. Like hide-and-go-seek.'' She clarified, resting her hands on her hips.
`` No.'' I answered, quickly reaching out and shutting the closet doors. I stood in the darkness and let out a sigh of relief. Peeking through the sliver in between the two doors, I saw her. She stared curiously at the closet, waiting.
`` Go away.'' I growled.
`` Why?''
``..Because.''
`` Because why?''
`` Because if you do n't, I'll eat you!''
`` Are you a monster?'' She asked.
`` Yes,'' I replied. `` A big, scary one that eats children like you!''
`` You do n't scare me.''
`` Why not?'' I asked, my voice trembling.
`` Because.''
I stood in the closet and tried thinking of a plan. Perhaps I would kill her. I had killed a number of truly despicable people, all of which fell to their knees in terror no matter how ruthless they were. But this was different, for the first time in my entire existence I was the fearful one.
The doors pulled open slowly and I pressed myself into the farthest corner of the closet. The purple glow of a nightlight painted her face magenta. She watched me collapse into a fetal ball and she giggled, revealing a missing front tooth. I buried my face between my legs and cowered like a fool.
I felt a small finger poke at my back. It poked again and again. I uncurled from my position and looked up at the girl. She smiled again in the purple light.
`` Are you ok?'' She asked.
`` Just a little scared.'' I sighed, letting out an embarrassed chuckle.
The girl told me her name and I told her mine and she invited me to play with her dollhouse. She introduced me to each of her dolls and showed me what part of the dollhouse they lived in. I did n't quite understand the point of it, but I enjoyed watching her.
As time rolled on, the child and I became strangely close. Each night I would come out from the closet and we would play and she would tell me all about her day. Some nights when she would wake up crying from a nightmare, I would be there to comfort her. She said she felt safe knowing that I was always there.
Some nights her father would walk into her room and watch her sleep, just as I did. When I first told her about that, she seemed uncomfortable. She said me that her father had died in a war and her mother had remarried someone else.
`` Do you like your stepfather?'' I asked.
`` No.''
One afternoon as I waited in the closet for the girl to come home from school, I heard the door to the bedroom open. I peeked through the sliver in between the two doors and saw the stepfather. I watched him trifled through a dresser drawer, grabbing a handful of the girl's clothing and pressing his nose to it. He put the clothes back and threw open another drawer, this time pulling out a pair of the girl's underwear. I felt a coldness creep down my spine.
Over the next week the stepfather's visits became more frequent. Each night he would come to view the girl as she slept and each night I watched him vigilantly. One night he crept into the room, his movements slow and calculated, and approached the girl's bed. He crawled onto the mattress and kissed the side of her face. She awoke and tried pulling away from him, but the man got on top of her and began taking off his pants. Gentle sobs poured from the girl as she lay trapped beneath.
It was all so clear then. I knew why I was summoned. I would gladly perform my duties.
I tore through the closet like a wild animal and stood before them. The stepfather spun around and witnessed me with his trousers down around his knees. I do not know what he saw when his eyes met mine but I like to imagine it was absolutely terrifying. The girl, her face wet with tears, began to scream and I told her to leave and wake up her mother. She darted out of the room and down the hall, screaming for her mother.
I lunged on top of the man and pinned him to the ground. He looked into my eyes and blurted out a scream that sounded like a dying lamb. His body shook with immense pain as I stopped his heart. I watched the life leave his eyes, then stood up, and walked back into the closet.
An ambulance was soon called and two young men came with a stretcher and hauled the body away, covering it with a sheet. I waited to be summoned elsewhere but still I remained in the shadows of the closet. Weeks passed and the little girl stopped speaking to me. I waited for her to acknowledge me but she never did.
Then one night she sat with her back against the closet doors and spoke to me.
`` Are you hiding?'' She asked.
`` I suppose.''
`` Well you should n't.''
`` Why?'' I inquired.
``... Because.''
`` Because why?''
`` Because I miss you.''
I gently pushed the closet doors open and we looked at each other like old friends. She leaned forward and wrapped her little arms around me and began to cry. I ran my hand across her long brown hair and sighed.
`` Did you kill him?'' The girl asked.
`` I did not.'' I lied. There was silence for a long time and then she spoke.
`` Thanks for stopping him...''
`` He should n't have done what did.'' I assured her. I traced my hand along her hair again and she let go of me.
`` You're pretty bad at being a monster.''
We both laughed. I rose to my feet and picked her up. She felt weightless in my arms. I cradled her for a moment and then dropped her onto her bed, pulling the covers up over her body. She smiled at me, colored by the purple nightlight.
`` Goodnight.'' She whispered.
`` Goodnight.''
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