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[ FF ] In 200 words , describe a ghastly and very unpleasant body transformation . Can be mechanical , biological , magical or whatever you like . ( possibly NSFW )
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The clamp forced my eye open as I watched it mapped out on to the computer screen directly in front of me. It was almost surreal to see my own iris in such remarkable detail until a glowing apparatus hovered into my vision. As the tool began to glow brighter, I noticed in my peripheral, a flashing box on the monitor:
“ WARNING! Anesthetic Ineffective! Beginning Procedure. ”
My hands shot up to my face and began unscrewing the clamp.
“ *Wait! Wait! Perform Emergen*– “
I was cut off as a blue beam of light cut through my cornea and felt it dance along the surface of my eye, *slicing* through the layers as it traveled. My body arched as pain shot through me, paralyzing my hands as I screamed, feeling fire as my nerves were cut. Within seconds, another tool came into view, a clamp, and began to lower, opening as it went, engulfed my eye and *pulled*. I felt the retina *tug* and *tear* until a *pop* resounded and my eye was *ripped* out of its socket. I screamed until darkness took me.
When I awoke, a mirror hung in front of me, allowing me to admire my new, cybernetic `` upgrade.''
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[ CW ] Foreshadow the ending of your prompt within the first five sentences , but make it so subtle that it 'll still be a surprise .
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There he sat, his eyes piercing, staring through my chest and into my soul. Those barren, judging eyes that I had always hated. The way that they never ceased to know exactly what it was that was jabbing at your strings. He sat there, never relenting, unblinking. Not until I knelt before him had I ever seen a hint of a tear grace those grey old eyes.
I strode as quickly as I could down the corridor, my heels creating an incessant chatter, a cacophony of echoes and shrieking pitches as they jumped from wall to wall.
My eyes darted, from shadow to shadow in the dimly lit tunnel. Nothing to instill apprehension, but I had never be so nervous in my life.
I neared the oaken door, the stop in the hall. An abrupt end, shrouded by the lack of light. I placed a hand gingerly onto the handle, and eased the door open, stepping through the portal and was swallowed by the illuminated room within.
The king ’ s study was restricted. It went without saying that one did not enter, unless having the consent of the realm ’ s highest authority. Though tonight, with all that had transpired, I doubted that I should live to see the morning sun. And with that, why should I not delve? Why should I not swim through the pages and find the truth?
My father had once served his majesty as faithfully and loyally as I had. No longer could I bear the secrecy, and the vagueness of the answers I had been given.
Words and scripts flew past as my eyes scrolled along the shelves. This circular room, covered from floor to ceiling in books, tomes and boxes. I was searching for one word and one word only, everything else was babble at that moment in time.
My finger stopped, resting underneath an inlaid line of gold on a red-velveted spine. Deftly extracting the book from the shelf, I turned and spread it open on the desk behind me.
The blank first page, the yellowing paper, in the center read:
Kidd Terra. Prominence: Warlord ( struck through ), Deceased
I flipped rapidly through the pages, frantic in my search. One page read: Battle at Toronal ’ s... I never finished reading it, as I nearly tore the page from the binding, turning to the next.
Again and again I ran through the seemingly endless sea of words until finally I came to a blank page. And then another. And another. I turned back to the last page of writing, a single word in the top left corner: Taken.
What did that mean? Where was the rest? Where was my explanation?
I haughtily cast the book through the window, shattering glass and exposing my ears to the crashing and discord of warfare outside. That was it. That was what I had been searching for all these years, and I only received the word missing?
“ FUCK!!! ” I screamed, drawing my dagger and working it across the shelves, slashing through books and pieces of wood. I kicked over the desk, dropping myself down into the chair, slumping and resting my hands on my legs. I sighed a deep, heavy sigh, and rubbed my temple. This is what I get. I thought. That ’ s all I get.
The door creaked open, alarmingly, and with force. I stood, immediately and ran towards the hall, my hands outstretched. I was met with a soft resounding sound of metal on metal as my hands felt armor, and a dull thud as I fell back into the room and onto the floor.
His majesty stepped into the room, his suit glinting in the harsh red light. He wore blue and gold robes underneath, just as regal as ever.
Raising myself to my feet, I apologized profusely, but he only stared. I raced, I stammered, tripping over myself.
Fie crossed the threshold and lowered himself into the chair I was sitting in only moments ago. His eyes fixated on me, unblinking. He heaved a breath.
“ I ’ m sorry, sir. I ’ m sorry. ” I stared down. I knew what I had done. And then more.
His gaze unwavering. His grey eyes paling in the firelight. He opened his mouth, and I dropped to my knees.
Raspy, unlike his typically rich voice; “ Your father once killed a king too, you know. ”
There he sat, his eyes piercing, staring through my chest and into my soul. Those barren, judging eyes that I had always hated. The way that they never ceased to know exactly what it was that was jabbing at your strings. He sat there, never relenting, unblinking. Not until I knelt before him had I ever seen a hint of a tear grace those grey old eyes.
I was taken back to the moment he entered, the resounding sound of metal on metal, and now the blood trickling from his mouth. My dagger jutting from his rib cage.
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[ WP ] It 's been nearly 100 years since the last Pyromancer was caught and executed . Pyromancy , the ability to create and control fire , is a dark and forbidden art . You discover you have the ability , and are now being hunted down .
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*It was so cold at night. I didn ’ t dare start a fire. I had no tools; I ’ d be caught red-handed. The best thing I could do was to freeze. I stayed in the woods with the other homeless and unwanted. Some of us had day-jobs as laborers…I didn ’ t dare approach the town for fear of being identified; my face was plastered on every wanted poster in town and around it. At least this deep in the woods I ’ d be able to snatch any wanted posters I saw on the trees and dump them in someone else ’ s fire pit. I ’ d burn them myself if I had more control over my abilities. I always ended up leaving a huge scorch mark on the tree…if I didn ’ t send the entire thing up in flames. I think the posers themselves had something to do with that; they were glued with a very flammable adhesive. It didn ’ t matter anyways; my control was still terrible. I ’ d read in a book that there were things I could do to control my ability, and my sister always tried to help. I miss her. Every time I see fire I wish I could ’ ve done better. Eve…*
*An arrow thudded into the tree beside my head and brought me out of my momentary mental lapse. They were close. I hadn ’ t realized that. I ’ d have to move quickly. There was a frozen river just half a mile from my current location and I ’ d used it in the past. I slid under the thick undergrowth and sprinted through the darkness with only the moonlight to illuminate my path. The twigs and thorns tore at my face but I couldn ’ t afford to slow. I reached the banks and shot a small trickle of flame at the ice. It, of course, came out as a massive torrent but nonetheless served the proper purpose; there was a hole large enough for me to climb down. I held the barbed hooks as tightly as I could and hung to the underside of the ice as I dug the spikes on my boots into the ice to fully support my weight. It seemed thinner today. It had been warmer during the day than usual, but the ice was still probably close to a foot thick. The water was about three feet below the ice so I had a small window in which to hold onto. I maneuvered downstream about fifty feet or so and melted another hole in the ice above my head. This time the fire did come out as a trickle and took far longer than I ’ d expected. *
*The ice above my left hand suddenly gave free and I felt myself falling into the freezing water below, luckily my right hand and my feet were sufficient to support my weight but I abandoned the second hole and continued downstream. I looked back and saw a light shine on the hole I ’ d abandoned. I heard several yells and a gunshot causing the ice behind me to splinter, but I could hear the search party move on up the bank as they assumed I ’ d exited the ice there. I clung to the ice for a few more minutes until I could feel my muscles aching and begging me to just fall…I quickly blasted a hole in the ice, not holding back at all this time, and crawled onto the surface as quickly as I could manager. There was no mistaking it this time; this was an exit wound. There were massive chunks of ice all over the frozen river pointing to an epicenter that contained a ten foot hole in the ice. I went up the opposite bank and made for an area closer to town than I prefer, but that was more populated. I ’ d blend in and hopefully bypass the patrol on their way back in. If they found me alone on the way back they ’ d capture me for sure. The few people huddled around burning barrels or open pit fires barely acknowledged my presence as long as I added a few sticks to their fire, and I ’ d made sure to gather a few dry ones on the way in. I was, at last, somewhat warm. *
*It was about an hour before I heard the horses again. There was a mountain of a man holding a crossbow and a slightly smaller, though still quite large, fellow, who appeared to be the second in command, holding what I could only assume to be one of the last functioning guns in existence. They became incredibly rare before I was born and were mostly melted down due to the fact that no one had ammunition for them about ten years ago. How this one was salvaged I have no idea…where the ammo I couldn ’ t fathom. But I recognized both men. My heart nearly stopped. I ’ d been waiting nearly fifteen years to find these two. *
*Eve had been there. She was alive and whole. When our mother died she raised me. She took care for me. She gave up so much for me…she died so that I may live. I couldn ’ t let that go to waste. These men were responsible for her death; she led them away from me and I watched from a hillside as they raped her…they all did. She screamed…I was twelve…she told me that no matter what happened I wasn ’ t allowed to help. I wasn ’ t supposed to do anything. Like a child, I listened to her as I had so many times in the past. I watched helplessly as one after another they bent her over the stump. I cowered as they finally held her up by the hair and screamed for me to come out, to show myself, to be a man and own up for what I was. I cried when the knife entered her throat just below her jaw and exited on the other side below her ear. I died inside as her life-blood flowed from the grotesque smile that had been created below her face. They left her there, half naked. Maybe as bait, maybe because she wasn ’ t worth the trouble anymore. I waited until nightfall and crept down. I slept curled up beside her corpse. *
*Again I did what Eve told me; I became strong. I could never really control the fire unless I had a very long time to concentrate on what I was doing, but I got better over time. It took me maybe five seconds to really nail things down. Melting the ice was something I was still too unskilled to precisely accomplish, but I could bring flame to an entire acre if need be. I just had to make sure I stood outside the inferno; the fire would still engulf me if I wasn ’ t careful. The years passed and I hid, dodged patrols, killed if I needed to, and became a master at hiding. I had the patrols thinking that there were at least three of us but they only knew my face. I lay in wait, biding my time for these men to come back. They were the only reason I had to keep myself alive. Several times I debating incinerating a small forest and taking a patrol down with me, but I always waited; if I was going to die, it ’ d be for these men. They were the lives I wanted to take, and here they were. *
*The large one leveled his crossbow at a small woman and fired a bolt through her neck. She tried to cry as she fell but only blood came out. Her partner charged him only to be silenced by a thundering report from the shotgun. He was dead before he hit the ground and his head nearly rolled off of what was left of his neck. I only knew them as Krack and Tamn. They were supposedly brothers; which explained their similarly massive statures. *
* “ Anyone new to the group? ” Tamn asked; he leveled his shotgun at the crowd as he loaded another round into the chamber from the slot in the rear of the gun. It was a double barrel, twelve gauge by the looks of it. *
* “ Someone joined you all today; I know it. If I find out who and no one tells me first I ’ ll make sure you all burn. ” I thought this was a morbidly ironic choice of words, but I held my silence. I had no grudge with these people. As the crowd slowly milled around I quietly made my way towards the western edge, heading towards town. I ’ d have the best chance from there. The group slowly moved around the men as they maneuvered their horses through the herd of people, their bloodhounds nipping at anyone who came too close. Women silently cried and children hid behind their parents. I didn ’ t want to harm them. I wouldn ’ t harm them. It ’ d been over two years since I ’ d killed someone. What I did next I don ’ t claim to be proud of…I don ’ t claim that it hurt me either. *
*One. *
*The dogs stopped and began to sniff the air. *
*Two. *
*The horses stopped and started acting erratic. *
*Three. *
*The men knew something was wrong at this point. A crossbow bolt struck the man standing beside me in the eye and he quickly slumped to the ground. *
*Four. *
*It was too late at this point; the temperature surrounding the men was already well over the boiling point of water and they were starting to blister. The ammunition Tamn had in his gun and his bag began to explode. I can ’ t say for certain but I ’ m pretty sure he was dead before the actual fire began. I don ’ t mind either way. *
*Five. *
*I let loose everything I had. Fifteen years of pent up anger at the men who tortured and killed my sister. At the men who ’ d chased me until my feet bled. Fifteen years of hatred for those who hated me and feared what I could do. I was showing them what I could do. The horses fell and writhed on the ground beside the men as their flesh blackened and their blood evaporated. I could see men whose eyes had boiled in their skulls and pure white bone that was beginning to char. The hottest part of the fire only lasted about a minute, but the surroundings would burn for hours. The dogs died first, the horses didn ’ t last much longer, but, for some reason, the men died last. Not something I ’ d expected. *
*After a minute I calmed things down and let go of the flames. I knew they ’ d continue on their own and I could see one man still moving. He was charred, missing most of his limbs, and his horse had fallen on him, but I could tell from the massive size of the torso that it had to be Krack. What a bizarre name. I walked through the flames right to his person and removed my hood. One of his eyes still appeared to work, and the flesh that was left on his face molded into a surprised look. He grinned and tried to raise his right arm but it refused to move. His crossbow had been incinerated as well so it wouldn ’ t have mattered at any rate. Burning to death wasn ’ t the worst way to die; the burns hurt far worse while healing. I ’ d learned that myself the hard way. I decided to end him in the same manner that he ’ d killed eve. I stood above him, his executioner. *
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[ WP ] A Zombie Apocalypse in which the zombies are capable of speech
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`` ASS''
The horde piled against the wall, their arms scraping against the aluminum sheets. Even if they got through, they would n't be able to get to me, as I was in a floor that was reachable only by a rope ladder, and their climbing skills were non-existent. However, there was one problem. Wherever I went, they would follow me. Being stalked by the undead was one thing, but even worse was if they were assholes about it.
`` FAGGOT'' one of them yelled. I did not respond, but instead loaded my rifle. `` WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? DO N'T BE A PUSSY AND FIGHT US!'' That son of a bitch was the loudest one. He did n't even help the other zombies break the wall. He just stood their, in his tattered clothes, and yelled obscenities. `` I SHAT ON YOUR WALL''. His skull was exposed due to a wound on his head, and his eyes were yellow and wide open. And today they were focused on me.
`` DICK BAG, GET DOWN FROM THEIR OR I'LL FUCKING RIP YOUR BALLS OFF.'' I raised the gun. `` FAGTASTIC, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? ``, I aimed at his head. `` FAGGIO, PUT THE GUN DOWN''. The slug exploded into his head and he slumped on the floor. It was better not to respond to them because that only encouraged them. One zombie looked at his fallen brethren. `` MOTHERFUCKER KILLED DAVE.''
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[ TT ] Writing Exercise : Start your story with , `` Get to the courtyard ! '' and continue writing without taking time to pause and think . Just keep writing even if at times you only produce gibberish .
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`` Get to the courtyard!''
I heard these words through the intercom as I bolted awake in my bed. I looked around, and there I was in a completely blank white room. A room that I didn ’ t recognize. I looked down at my sheets, sheets I didn ’ t recognize. As a siren klaxon started, I jumped to the ground and cast around for shoes, or something to cover my bare stocking feet.
“ Room 45, get to the courtyard now! ”
This message seemed to be directed at me, coming from a speaker on a bedside table, and not from the overhead intercom system. An explosion rocked the building, and I decided to forgo shoes for the presumed safety of the courtyard.
I left the room and entered into a hallway that was similarly white, with doors all along its length. I could hear the sirens still going off, but I couldn ’ t see any other patients rushing through the halls. Patients? Why did I say patients? I disregarded this thought as I heard another loud explosion, closer than the last had been. I decided to head as far away in the other direction as possible. As I stepped into the hallway, I noticed the white floors were lit up with blue directional arrows, seeming to indicate that I was headed in the right direction. I continued, taking several turns and always in the path the arrows seemed to show.
I found it odd that I couldn ’ t smell any smoke, and despite the continued sounds of explosions getting more and more distant, I hadn ’ t seen any indication of fire or catastrophe. I also found it odd that in this very expansive building I hadn ’ t encountered any other human beings. I began to wonder what I would find when I reached the end of these illuminated arrows. I began to wonder who I would find there.
As I slowed down to consider what I was doing, I heard a great rending sound from behind me, and an intense heat as the light of flames and the acrid smell of smoke seemed to envelop me. A concussive burst threw me to the ground and I was left a bit dazed, my head ringing. There was my fire, I thought, as I clambered to my feet and began running down the hallway, following the ever present blue arrows.
I finally reached a pair of doors that were different from the rest of the ones in the hallway. Big double doors like you would see in a high school gymnasium. High School? What would a high school be? For that matter, what would a gymnasium be like? As I went to the doors to open them, I felt a rush of anticipation. A courtyard…. I wracked my brain for a visual cue, some image of what to expect. Empty space? Something…. Outside? Was I to leave this building? What would great me out there? What unknowns? I reached out with trembling hands to the levers that would allow these doors to swing open, out into some great unknown.
I couldn ’ t do it. Just as I touched the cool metal of the handles, a great fear came over me. Huge and unreasonable, I found myself jumping away from the doors as though the metal was red-hot. I clutched my hands to myself, and fell to the ground, rocking back and forth. The sirens wailing, and the sounds of the wind as the fire behind me consumed the building I took cover in. I couldn ’ t leave. I wouldn ’ t. This is what I know. I don ’ t know anything else. The outside.
That great emptiness, full of uncertainty. What makes this situation any worse than what could be waiting out there? What promise do I have that some far worse fate isn ’ t waiting behind those doors? Shouldn ’ t I face the danger I know, rather than embrace the danger unexpected? And so I sat, and I rocked, next to those two doors.
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[ WP ] You wanted to time travel a few years back to fix your terrible behavior at your graduation . You accidentally witness the death of the dinosaurs firsthand .
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That was peculiar, I mused, as beasts ran from the jungle surrounding me. I looked up at the sky, the strong sun beat down on me, forcing sweat from my brow. The last thing I remembered was stepping into the time machine, but that felt like an age ago.
I looked at my surroundings trying to make sense of it all, what had happened? I thought I was going to end up in Westminster on a stormy English morning, drizzle soaking me to the skin and the stench of bus fumes thick in my lungs. No this definitely was n't Westminster. Trees climbed up towards the sky, clamouring for light from their taller brethren. Tall grass tickled my inner thigh as I moved through it, what was this place?
Sounds erupted from the trees around me, howls of anguish as winged beasts flew off into the sky. What were these things? As I started to wonder whether I should run from them or just hide, a shadow started to engulf me. Looking up I saw a mighty beast standing on its hind legs, towering over me. It's jaw was larger than me, whether it was friend or foe I did n't want to get too close.
I started to back away silently, maybe I was too small for this beast? I backed towards a tree whilst keeping my eyes trained on it. I felt the hard bark as I leaned up against the tree, the beast was looking around, sniffing the air. My feet clumsily slipped against the tree and I fell down, landing hard on my back.
I stared up as the beast roared with delight and my helplessness and advanced towards me.
Then it happened.
An almighty crack through the air, the beast crashed to the ground with blood pouring from a wound in it's head. Something more deadly was hunting today
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[ WP ] A scientist is sick of all the violence due to religions and travels back into time with one purpose of ending existing religions and starting his own .
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This will be my last entry.
For the past few decades... I've been slumming it back here in the early years of humanity. I'm not entirely sure *when* I am at the moment... exactly. I know I'm somewhere around 500 BCE. I've erased every temporal landmark that might help me narrow my position down... but that's irrelevant. It does n't matter when I am... it does matter what I've done. But... I suppose I should start with...
Okay. Pause and rewind. My name is Grace... or it was. I do n't know what it is now. Or... at least what it will be whenever you listen to this. I'm an Achronal Being... formerly a Human Being. I... had an accident a few... er... well... for me it has been about a century. I ca n't explain to you *what* happened, exactly, for fear of someone copying it, but I can tell you what happened. I was... unbound from Causality and Time. I do n't age, and I'm immune to changes in the Timeline.
How does this matter? Well... I can pop around the timeline if I want to. I have to be careful with it, for fear of messing up the timeline too much and rendering my knowledge worthless... but for the most part it is n't a problem. The second biggest blunder I've had is accidentally getting Fabian killed, resulting in Carthage winning the Punic Wars. But I fixed that. The one I'm trying to fix now... well... it's the big one.
You probably know about all the issues that Religion causes. There's a lot of pain caused by its existence. It's rarely *directly* to blame... but its existence is a catalyst for those violent reactions. It's a justification, cause, and means of erasing the guilt all in one.
I... wanted to fix that. So I popped back and tried to... well I sabotaged the beginnings of a lot of Religions. Managed to disrupt them... and then I tried to construct a new one around myself that I could subtly steer. The exercise did n't have good results. Religions are Ideas, and Ideas are tenacious things. They're hard to wipe out... and a lot of persecution complexes were generated.
In the end... all I've done is add one more Religion to the world. It's... well it's like any Religion. Lots of good ideas, and piss-poor execution.
I'm going to stop myself now. Should be easy, just have to kill a past-self. With luck, that will stop past-me and leave present-me around. Without luck... it will wipe me off the timeline entirely. All my changes will be reset, and this recording will just go *poof*. So... if you're listening to this... well... I'm still around. Somewhere in Time.
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[ IP ] Prototype Stage
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Deshler always felt an outsider here, the shelves of disassembled parts and broken salvage from a score of war-torn worlds lending it a claustrophobic atmosphere. This feeling was not at all help but the intense heat of the auto-forges, and portable crucibles which lined the rear of the space. The remains of a Scorpion light tank sat in the middle of the repair bay missing its tracks and autocannon. A pattern of holes roughly the size of a man's fist lay scattered across the turret while melted lines scarred the front and left side of the tank as evidence of laser fire.
`` Alright, Chief. What exactly did you want to show me?'' Deshler asked, staring at a grey haired man in oil stained coveralls. Chief Technician Yancy Olin had been a researcher on Keystone for Earthwerks Incorporated when that world fell to Clan Wolf. He escaped on one of the last Dropships to leave, bringing with him a wealth of classified data and plans. Deshler had taken him on just over five years ago, promoting him to oversee everything having to do with the maintenance and upkeep of their machines. The mercenary leader's faith in the old man was well justified, and his lancers' tanks and BattleMechs often ran better than models decades newer.
`` I'd just finished it last night,'' Chief Olin said, moving over towards a work bench covered with a dirty cloth. He threw the greasy thing aside to reveal a small item about the rough size and shape of a submachine gun or carbine, still crude and ugly with exposed wires and rough weld marks.
`` It's a Laser TAG device, capable of being carried not just at the squad level but by the individual soldier as well.''
Deshler hid any exasperation at his technician's work behind a careful mask. Target Acquisition Gear worked on long understood and simple principals, laser guided missiles having existed since the mid-twentieth century. It was like reinventing the wheel.
`` And this one is different how?''
`` I've worked out certain kinks in the laser answer-and-reply system that links to Arrow IV units. By piggy-backing the message in multiple frequencies to the original one this little thing can pierce through most Guardian ECM systems and allow Artemis IV to function normally.''
Deshler's brow rose in surprise. Guardian Electronic Counter Measure systems could jam Artemis IV by flooding the battlefield with electromagnetic radiation static, scrambling the delicate electronics and rendering them blind. Ever since the Jihad and the Blakists reliance on C3 Networks the amount of Guardian and Angel ECM suites had only increased. Anything that could counteract them was a precious advantage.
`` How soon can it be manufactured?'' Deshler asked.
Olin shook his head. `` Impossible. The system is based on Clan-tech; maybe if we went to the Sea Foxes and had them look at it we could see some minor scale production but Inner Sphere standard factories do n't have the equipment need to make it on a scale larger than job production.''
Deshler made a noise of unease. `` See what you can do. Anything that'd give us a step up I'm glad to have.''
`` Gotcha, Major. I get right on it,'' Olin said.
With that Deshler made his leave, escaping the hellishly hot confines of the shop and pondering the effects of this new invention.
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[ WP ] `` Can you truly call yourself a good man when all you have done is harm those you sought to help ? ''
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“ Can you truly call yourself a good man when all you do is harm those sought to help you? ” he inquired, perching on the edge of the small, round, metal seat he had chosen to support himself with.
I swallowed. How could I answer such a question? I have hurt no one intentionally but, then I have pushed away anyone who wished to get close to me, with any means possible.
“ Can you ask me such a question with full knowledge that you have not? ” I tried to reply, putting on a brave face and I deflected the request.
“ Ah, but I know I ’ m a bad man. I know I hurt those who care and even those who do not. And since I can claim to such, I can ask such a question. So, admit you are no good man or live in the pit of denial you ’ re in. ” He smirked, feeling the superiority he had over me at that moment.
“ Why do you care? ”
“ Why don ’ t you? ”
“ You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain, and I ’ m not there yet. ” I had expected a pause, but he replied, quick as the spear of silver in a sword fight.
“ Oh honey, we are all villains, and the worst of us convince other ’ s that we ’ re the hero. ” And it was that line, that singular line. With each moment of his lips I knew it. I was the worst of them all. And I took his outreached hand and followed him downstairs.
( This is new to me, so please do n't judge )
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[ WP ] After finally catching all 150 pokemon you hand your pokemon and pokedex to Professor Oak , unknowingly that Oak works for Team Rocket
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**BANG**
The bullet tears through the skin and bone and brain tissue of Ash Ketchum and promptly finds itself dripping from the wall at the back of the lab. Professor Oak or Oak-daddy as his colleagues and friends in Team Rocket know him, takes out his mobile phone.
`` Giovani, it's Oak-daddy, you'll never guess what? It fucking worked. I've got them all. Yeah the kid's dead, I've killed those two retards and their Meowth too. Let the buyer know, 150 Pokemon go for a high price no matter where but the Kalos market is screaming out for them. I've got to go, I have something else to do. Let me know when the buyer agrees a meet.''
Oak-daddy kicks ash out of his way as he takes the satchel from his warm-but getting colder- body to count his well earned wares.
`` Grandpa, you killed him?! You killed Ash?'' Oak-daddy, in his concentration did n't notice his grandson Gary enter the room behind him. He grasps his pistol but lets the grip loosen and instead opts for trying to talk his way out.
`` Gary, you were always a bright boy. I always told your mother that, you have a future in Team Rocket you know that?''
`` No Grandpa, I want to be a Pokemon master and ash was my bes-''
`` Shut the fuck up and listen to me boy. I have worked very hard to get all 150 pokemon from the Kanto region, I have a buyer who is interested in every Pokemon native to this region. This will make me, and by extension you, very rich. Ash was a cog in the machine, and you can be too, just keep complaining and you will be with your best friend very fucking quickly''
Oak-daddy realises that halfway through his mean sounding monologue that Gary had started laughing, the grip on his pistol tightened as he pulled out his piece and aimed it right at his grandsons head.
`` What's so funny boy? You want to die?''
`` No Grandpa it's just.... There are 151 pokemon in the Kanto region. You forgot about Mew!'' Gary said through gasps and laughs.
**BANG**
Oak-daddy's head fell into his hands as he realised yeah, he was missing Mew. No self respecting foreign buyer would buy an incomplete stock. He composed himself, put the Pokemon he had in his possession into his computer, filling up 4 pages of Bills Storage and makes his way to Johto, to try and manipulate another kid into filling his pockets with Pokedollars.
Never forget about Mew.
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[ WP ] You die and enter the realm between heaven and hell . You come to learn that this space is 'owned ' by your own inner monologue , a separate entity from yourself . You begin trying to convince the sentient apparition , who sounds and thinks like you , to let you enter heaven .
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`` Who are you?''
*'' You already know''. *
`` You're me as I view myself. Where are we? Or is it I?''
*'' In the middle. `` *
`` We're in the middle of what?''
*'' It's the end. We have to decide where to go. `` *
`` Let's go to the best place of course. What are our options?''
*'' Heaven is generally considered the best and Hell generally the worst. There's a couple of other places as well. `` *
`` Well let's go check out Heaven.''
*'' Do you think we should go to Heaven? `` *
`` Of course I do!''
*'' Remember, I am you. `` *
`` But I've done tons of of good things! And bad things I ha... oh''
*'' Oh...'' *
`` But it's not like I... I do n't think that deserves... huh. So what does that mean? Where do I go?''
*'' You already know. `` *
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[ WP ] Your SO of 3 years tells you that he/she is Satan
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My first clue should have been her devil-girl fetish. She told me one night she wanted to try something different. We had been together for about a year at this point, and so while the sex was good, fantastic even, a little spice couldn ’ t hurt. I agreed, figuring that relationships are about compromise, so I might as well give in to some of her fantasies. She smiled, and went to the bathroom. Half an hour later, she came back out.
The petite young woman with pale skin and black hair had been completely transformed. Her entire body was a deep, blood red. She had horns, long black fingernails, and the most realistic prosthetic tail I had ever seen. It drug the ground behind her, but I ’ ll be damned if I could see how it attached. The sex that night was, well, astounding to put it mildly. I think we fucked three or four times before finally passing out around 3 am. It became a frequent occurrence.
After that, it was like our relationship was reborn. I think she actually began relaxing around me at that point, opening up really. She talked more freely, certain nuances of her personality became a little more pronounced, and I of course fell even more deeply in love.
It was true that she did have a serious wild streak, but it was always contained, almost methodical. She followed the rules, sure, but only when she knew there was no way to get around them. Even when she broke them, she did it in such a way that it was hard to prove her wrong. She wasn ’ t a klepto, or a serial assaulter, or anything like it. It was just little things, here and there, that clued me into her overall distaste for law and order.
My second clue should have been that she seemed to have an uncanny knowledge of people ’ s darker secrets. That one was the one that eventually clued me in to her secret. We were out one night drinking when a man and woman came in. The man looked like he had just left the office at the IT department, and the woman looked like she had just stepped out of a catalogue for Emo Weekly. She wore it well, but it was a little overdone.
Lucille, I call her Lucy, turned towards them, sized them up, and then went back to her drink. “ She beats him. ”
I nearly spat out my drink and looked over at Lucy who seemed to have this shocked expression on her face. I couldn ’ t tell if it was because of what she said, or something else, so I glanced at them again. They looked normal enough, and a long-sleeve shirt in September isn ’ t unusual. “ How do you know that? ”
Lucy ’ s eyes went wider then she turned to me, “ I said that out loud? ” I nodded. “ Shit, ” she added, “ these martinis are going straight to my head. ”
I gently reached over and took her arm, “ What was that all about? Do you know that guy? I mean, you haven ’ t told me much about your past, and I haven ’ t pried, but— “
She waved her hands dismissively, “ No, no, it ’ s nothing like that. ” She glanced back over at them and eyed them some more, “ It ’ s just their posture, the way they hold themselves. You can tell a lot about a person from little clues they give off. ”
I laughed, realizing that a few of my beers had probably gone to my head as well, “ Alright, Ms. Psychic, tell me something about someone else. ”
She seemed to relax a little and turned back towards the rest of the bar. Her eyes flicked around for a moment before she settled on an older woman. She squinted momentarily and then said, “ She skims funds off the non-profit she helps run. Never enough to get noticed, she is very careful, but just enough to allow her some small pleasure purchases. ”
I looked at the woman and noticed that she wasn ’ t dressed in fancy clothes or wearing fancy jewelry. Hell, she was drinking a bud light at a bar specializing in their liquor selection. I glanced at Lucy and frowned, “ You can tell all that from just a glance? ”
Lucy nodded, and then nudged her head in the direction of a young man furiously scribbling away on a notepad in a far corner of the bar. He looked like he was attempting to study for test or something. I shrugged, and Lucy said, “ He ’ s sleeping with his professor, his male professor, for better grades this semester. The professor ’ s wife knows but doesn ’ t care. ”
I didn ’ t laugh at that one. Instead I looked hard at Lucy. “ Are you making all this up? Because initially it sounded like a joke, but that one ’ s not very funny. ”
Lucy frowned and turned back to her drink. She sat silently for a few minutes and I worried that I had offended her. She glanced quickly in my direction and sighed. “ No, it isn ’ t very funny, but I can ’ t help it. I look at people and all I can see… ” she trailed off.
I inched closer, “ What do you mean ‘ all I can see? ’ ”
She hung her head, “ It ’ s like a neon sign written above their head. John, ” she hesitated, “ John, I ’ ve been meaning to tell you all this, about how I ’ m very different. Initially you were a distraction, a play-thing, but… ”
I felt my heart thumping hard in my chest. True, our relationship had started out as a drunken, sex-fueled whirlwind, but we had kept seeing each other. After about a year of ‘ accidentally running into each other at the bar ’ we had started dating. We were three years in at this point, and I thought at least most of our secrets were out. Apparently I was wrong.
“ But what? ” I nudged her gently, hoping to coax her into a confession.
I saw a tear slide down a cheek and she took another sip of her martini. “ You never judged me, John, ” she said quietly. “ No matter what I did, you didn ’ t judge me, and I love you for it. You were either on board with the plan, or tried to gently explain why that was a bad decision. Not like you were talking to a child, but like you were talking to a foreigner who didn ’ t know the rules. ” She sniffed, “ No one has ever done that; treated me with respect despite my…urges. ”
I sifted through her words and after a moment, arrived at what I felt was the issue. I slipped my arm into hers and stroked her cheek, “ Lucy, honey, why do you think you don ’ t deserve respect? ”
She laughed, a surprisingly dark laugh for a girl who normally looked so bright and cheerful. She downed the rest of her martini and slammed the glass onto the table. The glass shattered in her hand, causing the bartender to frown. I waved him over, slipped him some extra cash, and explained I would be taking her home soon. He continued to frown, but only tapped his watch and moved back down the bar.
Lucy kept her hand clenched for a moment then opened it and turned it towards me. Several sharp pieces of glass fell to the table as she held up her palm, and I saw it had not cut her. She gently put her palm back down on the table. “ I ’ m not human. ”
I took her gently in my arms, “ Why would you say that? ”
“ Because I ’ m not, ” she whispered. “ I haven ’ t ever been human. ”
I turned her face towards me and kissed her gently. “ Honey, ” I said, “ I ’ ve never asked you about your past, but obviously you ’ ve been through some sh— “
“ I ’ m the Devil, ” she said, interrupting me. “ Lucifer, Beelzebub, the Dark Lord, et cetera, et cetera. ”
My mouth hung open as things slowly started clicking into place. So many of her antics, her unusual glances at people, her idle comments that I had dismissed, her unusual body heat, her invulnerability, and of course, her devil-girl fetish. I also realized that she had an uncanny ability to convince people of things. She was a very smooth talker, and only now did I realize that she never lied, she only manipulated the truth in her favor.
I slowly put my arms down and took her hands. Everything in the past 3 years of our relationship now made sense. I leaned in and whispered, “ Your devil-girl getup, is that what you really look like? ” She nodded. “ Is it easier to relax in that form than this one? ” She nodded again. I smiled, “ Then when we get home, you can relax. You can really relax. ” I kissed her gently, “ I love you too. ”
She laughed. I laughed. I took her home.
-- -- -- --
[ r/grenadiere42 ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/grenadiere42 )
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[ WP ] A man can travel through time , but he can only go up to 70 years in the past . With his gun and a list of as many infamous crimes as he can muster , he sets out to give justice by killing these criminals . Describe society 's reaction through the years as his crusade progresses throughout time .
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The man glanced down at the notebook and crossed off another name. The leather-bound book was worn, the outside scuffed and some of the pages torn. In many ways, the small leather object reflected its owner and the two were tied together by a single purpose.
*Justice. *
The man appeared to be in his early forties, and was dressed in plain brown clothes, albeit well-made. He wore a strange gun on his back, a shotgun by the look, but loaded from the back. Might have been a new Winchester model.
Browsing through the notebook, he studied the next name. Carl Panzram. The page seemed to contain a full biography for him, details such as place of birth, know residence, and a psych profile. The dates were especially interesting. Caught in 1930. The current year is 1929.
The next year was spent tracking down this Carl Panzram, and it was in December of'29 that the man found him. No speech, no violence. Just a gun and a thought.
*Justice. *
Another name to cross off the list. He flipped the page, The Hunter, another unsolved case. This might prove a challenge, and the man had to admit the prospect thrilled him. The Hunter had been notorious in his time, a decade from now, an impressive body count and had been active through both world wars.
The trail leading to The Hunter was not an easy one. There were no missteps or slip-ups, only an ever rising count of bodies. It took five years before the man even got a lead. And then it happened. He caught The Hunter coming out of a gun shop and tailed him to an old truck in the alleyway.
*Justice. *
An easy kill for the man, justice seemed to be on his side. As he walked to the killer's truck he noticed something on the body. A small leather book. Heavily worn, its brown exterior matched the appearance of the corpse clutching it. The man entertained a thought about the irony and let out a small chuckle. As he walked away, still chuckling, only one thought was present.
*Justice. *
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[ WP ] `` You ... Do know I 'm about to kill you , right ? '' A serial killer 's latest victim does n't seem to understand the gravity of the situation .
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“ What? ” Ted cocked his brow with a confused eye.
“ Yeah, that ’ s cool man. I got nothing going on later anyways. ” The bearded, chubby, dopey looking bastard with a heavy lisp sat in the folding chair and blinked a couple times.
“ You realize I just told you, and explained in extensive detail in a way that couldn ’ t be anything less than one hundred-fucking-percent-clear that I ’ m going to slowly turn you into a human lamp shade? You understand this concept right? Or do I have to draw a schematic? ”
“ Well when you put it like that it doesn ’ t sound very pleasant. ”
“ It ’ s not supposed to sound pleasant you fucking nimrod, I ’ m a damn butcher not a fucking anesthesiologist! ”
“ Can I jerk off first? ”
“ No! ” Ted shook with rage, dropping his knife on the floor just to clench his hand into a shaking fist.
“ Why the fuck not? You got me sitting here like a sweet little bitch, you don ’ t even think I ’ m significant enough to tie me to this chair, you ’ re too cheap to at least drug me first so I don ’ t feel anything, and now I can ’ t even jerk off? You just want me to lie on that gurney and let you pound me up the butt without proper stimuli? That ’ s selfish man, at least let me cook up some gravy before you start mashing my god damned potatoes. Let me juggle ‘ em a bit, bead up some taint sweat. ”
Ted ’ s mouth wagged, but before he could say anything-
“ This isn ’ t Pulp Fiction man, this is real life, and I am a real person with feelings! You can ’ t just throw your sweet little ass out to the world in a personal ad and then expect to horsey fuck a beautiful black Ving Rhames! If you don ’ t like bears you should have said that in the ad! I should at least get to shuck some fuckin ’ corn before getting corn holed. ”
“ Oh no, ” Ted laid his head in his hands as the situation became clear.
“ You know, I thought someone going by BloodyBoners4Jesus69BJ might be a little more understanding! What would Jesus do sir? He would be ashamed of you, that ’ s what, ” The man wagged his finger.
“ I think we have actually gotten off on the wrong foot, ” Ted seemed calmer now, trying to compose him self.
“ I ’ ll get off on your foot, bitch. ”
“ No, no you see, you got the wrong ad, ” Ted informed.
“ What? ”
“ Well, actually you didn ’ t get the wrong ad, I got my appointments mixed up. ”
“ How so? ” the little man looked confused.
“ You ’ re PorkingPiggyBooBoo2424 right? ”
“ Yes… ” the little man cocked an eyebrow.
“ I thought you were AryanReaper666. Shit, Bill ’ s gon na ’ killll me, we only dug one grave for tonight. Ok man, I ’ m sorry, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I still have to kill you. I promise It ’ ll be quick, I at least owe you that for the mix-up. ”
There was a long pause.
“ Can I jerk off first? ”
“ …Sure go ahead. ”
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[ WP ] A religion is proven true but not the one you expect how do people react ?
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The latest internet fad had reached an end. As we beat Pokemon X, everyone rejoiced at our collective success. It united millions of people, but we thought it was just gamers having fun, a very good plan for how to put a lot of people together to play.
The unexpected was when the screen on twitch showed only an Omastar, an oddly realistic one. At first we thought it was just the steamer giving us some nostalgia, but then the spiral-shelled pokemon left every single screen, and he was one, he was everywhere at once, and he looked at each player with an expression that can only be described as godly.
`` The judgement is done.''
A pidgeot soared through the skies of every nation in the world in sequence, and where he passed, he took the players. The good and the bad ones, all were picked up.
`` It is done. Groudon and Kyogre will bring about the cataclysms to end the lives of those who were not taken. Their souls shall be judged then.
Thanks for playing''
and thus, the cult of the Helix was proven true.
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[ WP ] All the world 's water has mysteriously become toxic to Humans . But its ok , you have a plan .
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`` This is the single worst and most perverted idea I have ever heard.''
Okay, so my illustration might have been a bit too well intended. But I thought that a good rendering of some beautiful breasts would earn a few extra considerations. I tried to salvage the situation.
`` We are pack animals by design. If there is a crisis, we stick together and get each other through. Sure, a few million wo n't survive this, but this plan will not only help the rest of them live on, it will also replenish our numbers in the process.'' That did n't help, I had to try harder. `` And it's *natural*. And we wo n't really run out. Ever.'' With a flourish, I went to the next slide, where line graphs crept steadily along the top of thrice verified projections. I glanced around the audience with my best smile. It did n't help.
`` Enough,'' the president bellowed with a sickened frown, `` we *will not* impregnate half the human race to breast-feed the other half. You can either leave the podium now or force me to have a firing squad remove you!''
In hindsight, I should have left. I should n't have come at all. Maybe it was the fact that the exact year of this crisis, we just had to elect a female president. Maybe'Operation Fuck'em and Suck'em' was n't the best peg to hang this on. Maybe it was just the fact that everyone was helplessly panic-stricken. In either case, I definitely should n't have gone to the next slide.
`` Just hear me out,'' I narrated over the graph linking taxable income to hotness of assigned females, `` this might probably even win you the next election.'' And that's when the shouting started...
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[ WP ] In the climactic final battle , countries of the world must pit their national animals against one another . From America , the Eagle ! From Russia the Bear ! From ... wait , is that a Dragon ? ! What the hell Wales ! ! ?
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`` Jesus Christ what is that?'' asked David Cameron, his lion tugging against its leash.
`` Its a Dragon'' said Carwyn Jones, the first minister of Wales. `` Have n't you ever seen one in a picture book before?''
`` Of course I have'' said Cameron. `` But I'm pretty sure the wings were n't stapled to it.''
`` Well we were supposed to bring our national animal, and Wales has the dragon!'' said Jones.
`` Right but Dragons are n't real'' said Cameron `` That there is a lizard with a pair of wings nailed on. And whats that metal thing on its head?''
`` Well how else is he going to breathe fire?'' asked Jones. `` It's not a dragon if it does n't breathe fire.''
Cameron was opened his mouth to protest, but his words died in his mouth as Scotland walked in a horse with what looked like a toilet plunger sticking out of its head.
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[ WP ] you go to the doctor for the first time in 10-15 years for a check up , you suddenly find out through a series of tests that there is no way you should be alive
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The thermometer beeps loudly. The nurse pulls it out of my ear and looks down, “ Damn thing must be broken. It says 74 degrees. I ’ ll go get some new batteries for this in a moment. Roll up your sleeve and hold out your right arm. ”
She wraps the blood pressure cuff around my arm. It ’ s one of those new automated fancy ones. It beeps error.
“ Everything around here is broken. Sorry about that. Didn ’ t use to happen with the old stuff. ” She looks embarrassed. “ I ’ ll try to go find some working equipment. In the meantime, Doctor Goldstein should be here soon. ”
She walks out the door. It ’ s time for that odd wait. I sit on the edge of the exam table, kicking my legs. Just as I ’ m getting tempted to go through the various cabinets, there ’ s a knock on the door.
“ Come in. ”
“ Jarold, good to see you man. ”
“ Hey Phil, how are the kids? ” I ’ ve known Phil, aka Dr. Goldstein, since my freshman year of college when we lived on the same dorm floor. I ’ ll admit, it ’ s a bit odd to have one of your best friends do your prostate exam, but other than that, having a good friend as your family doctor is nothing but good for your health.
“ The kids are great, Jim is 14 and starting running back on his football team. Sarah is 11. That whole pre-teen moody thing is a bit rough, but that ’ s more about my nerves. She ’ s fine. ” Phil pulls out his clipboard. “ So why are you in here today? You ’ re still four months away from your annual physical. ”
“ I ’ ve had a hard time sleeping recently. I get the chills easily. Something just feels off, and as you always tell me, ‘ trust your gut and get the hell in here if anything feels off. ’ ”
“ Indeed. I do say that. ” He ’ s staring at the clipboard. “ That ’ s odd, the nurse didn ’ t note your blood pressure. ”
“ She said the machine was broken. She ’ ll be back with a new one in a minute. ”
“ Ok, well, let ’ s check the ticker. ” Phil puts his stethoscope into his ears, I pull up my shirt and he sets it on my chest.
“ Damn that ’ s cold. ”
Phil doesn ’ t respond. He sits and listens for a bit. Looks up at my face, down at his watch, and listens some more. He grabs my wrist to check my pulse. Then puts two fingers up to my neck. Then back to listening to the stethoscope.
After about three minutes of awkward silence, I finally ask “ Something wrong with my heart Phil? ”
“ Your skin is cold. ”
“ I told you I ’ m getting the chills easily, but is my heart ok? ”
“ I can ’ t seem to hear your heart. ” His voice gets softer, “ It must be very faint. ” He ’ s thinking. “ I ’ m probably going to have to send you to the ER. ”
“ Maybe I ’ m a zombie here to eat your giant brain. ” I joke.
Phil doesn ’ t seem to think I ’ m joking. “ No, seriously Jarold, you need to get to the ER. You ’ re in no condition to drive. I ’ ll drive you there. Get your shoes back on. ”
My fingers are numb. I don ’ t have the dexterity to tie my shoes.
“ Here, I ’ ll help. ” Phil bends down to tie my shoe and stops as he sees my leg.
“ Where did you get this bite? ”
“ What bite? ”
“ You have this huge bite on your leg. Must be at least a week old. It must hurt like hell. Looks like it never got bandaged. ”
“ Must have been a neighborhood dog or something. ” I don ’ t remember getting bit.
“ No, these are definitely human teeth marks. What the hell is going on with you Jarold? When did this happen? ”
I ’ m cold. So very cold. And hungry.
Phil is talking but I ’ m not really hearing what he says. I ’ m just staring at his head. I reach out to give him a hug.
His eyes go wide and he runs out of the room. The door locks behind him. I pound on the door. I need to catch up to him. Get that ride to the hospital.
I grab the door and pull. It breaks off the hinges. Damn, don ’ t even know my own strength. The doctors office is clearing out. People are looking back at me and running away. I begin to chase.
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[ WP ] Settlers named it 'The Maw ' . If only they knew how accurate that name was .
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`` Wha... what's that?'' Freddy raised a shaking finger, gesturing at the fenced off lot where the ground abruptly just fell away a few feet from the sidewalk he was walking on.
`` Oh, that's just an old sinkhole.'' His father explained. `` Been around for centuries, the first settlers named it'The Maw'. The fenced it off a few years back after a few drunk teens fell in.''
`` Oh...'' Freddy was barely listening to his father, eyes transfixed on the gaping gap in the earth. It was utterly black as far down as he could see in the hole, at least 100 feet or more by his guess. He wondered if it had a bottom.
Soon, they were out of sight and around a bend in the road. Freddy's new school was just ahead. He had been worried about having to start over in a new school, make new friends and try to catch up in classes that his peers were already halfway through.
Now, he was also dreading having to pass by that yawning hole twice a day as he walked to and from school. He could n't put his finger on it, but something about that bottomless pit gave him the willies.
-- -
`` Hey Freddy. That's your name right?'' Jake, a taller boy called out to him just as his class was dismissed for recess.
`` Me and a few of the boys are going to run to the general store to buy some candy, want to come?'' Jake asked.
Freddy nodded enthusiastically and bounded out the door after Jake and three other boys.
-- -
`` Well Fred, we like you and all but you're new here and we do n't really know you.'' Jake and the boys paused in their walk back from the store, right in front of the fence guarding the sidewalk from The Maw.
`` We got ta make sure that you ai n't no sissy.'' Jake continued.
One of the boys walked up to a large `` WARNING! DO NOT ENTER!'' sign hanging on the fence and swiveled it out of the way revealing a hole in the fence just big enough for a boy to crawl through.
Jake crawled through first, Freddy hesitated but before he knew it the rest of the boys corralled him and forced him towards the gap in the fence. Before he knew it, he stood with just a scant few feet of air between him and The Maw.
Freddy tried to swallow the lump in his throat.
`` Now look Fred, alls you got ta do is find a nice big rock and drop it in.'' Jake explained.
`` Umm, tha..that's i-it?'' Freddy stammered.
`` Yeah, that's it, nice and simple. We've all done it.'' Jake said as the rest of the boy nodded enthusiastically.
It took Freddy a minute or two to find a fist sized rock. He held it aloft for approval.
`` That's good, now just walk over to the edge and drop it.'' Jake called over from where he and the rest of the boys were standing on the other side of the hole.
Freddy looked back over those last few feet of dirt and swallowed hard again.
'I can do this, I can do this...' Freddy said to himself, but his legs refused to move.
`` Come on, nothing's going to happen. We ai n't gon na push you in or nothing, look, we'll stay right here.'' Jake called over again after Freddy stood rooted for a few moments.
Slowly Freddy shuffled over a few feet to as close to the edge of the Maw as he dared.
At this point, some of the boys had started to get bored and started to kick some nearby rocks into the pit.
Freddy gulped as he watched the stones fly into the abyss and never seem to strike any sort of floor.
The boys kept kicking more and more rocks in.
`` Oh shit!'' One of the boys exclaimed and Freddy watched as his shoe flew off his foot and down into the Maw.
The other boys started laughing hysterically.
`` Joey, you moron. Mom's gon na kill you!'' Jake wheezed between laughs.
Freddy started laughing too.
His earlier tension seemed to melt away with the laughter and he stretched out his arm to drop the rock he still held.
Then the ground began to shake.
Startled, Freddy dropped the rock and began to back away.
The ground bucked and shuddered under his feet, he could hear the boys shouting at him but he hardly heard them as his eyes were transfixed on the churning ground.
He stood, rooted with horror as bone white wedges shot out of the ground along the edges of the pit.
'That's funny, they kind of look like teeth.' Freddy thought.
The screams brought him out of his reverie.
`` Joey! Joey, just hold on!'' Jake yelled.
Across the pit, Jake and two of the boys clung to the fence with one hand and clung to one of Joey's outstretched arms with their other hand.
The ground, once level with the pit now slopped down into it at a sharp angle and Joey clawed at the dirt, trying to get any traction to pull himself back up to his friends.
Freddy took off at sprint around the hole, straying as close as he dared as to not fall in, never taking his eyes off Joey and the boys.
Then the Maw moved.
Freddy could only watch as the teeth ringed hole closed the distance between the boys. The dirt fell away around Joey so he was dangling in mid-air.
Then in a blink of an eye, the Maw snapped shut.
The boys screamed as Maw opened, leaving only the bleeding stumps of their arms behind.
The Maw shifted again and in another blink, the other three boys were gone.
-- -
Freddy could hear his heart hammering in his heart as he crashed into the fence.
The sign, where was that sign?!
Freddy scrambled around the fence searching for the gap that would be his salvation.
Freddy thrust his hands out to clutch the fence as he felt the ground fall away beneath him.
***SNAP***
Freddy looked back, numb with horror to see the two bloody stumps where his legs had been dangling into the inky black abyss.
'This is a dream, this has to be a dream...' Freddy thought furiously.
'I just need to wake up, wake up!' He willed himself as he scrunched his eyes closed.
'Wake up!'
-- -
`` Good evening, this is Judy Grey. Tragedy has struck the small town of Springfield today as five elementary school boys have gone missing. Witnesses last saw the boys leaving a general store on Main Street at around noon. Authorities have found a hole in a fence surrounding a nearby sinkhole and speculation now is that the boys may have fallen in. More at 7.''
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[ WP ] You 're a single father , forced to become a supervillain to support you and your child . One day , the heroine follows you to your home .
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*Silver Ghost*
If you want to win the game, you need to know the rules.
The REAL rules. Not the ones on paper.
Take soccer. The rules say you ca n't touch the ball with your hands. On paper, that is. But the REAL rules say that if the referee SAYS you touched the ball with your hands, you get a penalty. If the referee does n't say anything, its like it never happened!
One way to stop the referee from saying that is to follow the paper. But that's not the only way...
Heroes are a dime a dozen, and the lay villain can be forgiven for assuming that they're all mostly the same. They're not as smart as us- well, as the better class among us. They're ALWAYS younger than us. Usually better looking.
They're not the same. If you want to win the game, you have to understand the rules. And the rules are what will, or wo n't, get you punched in the head by a teenager in spandex.
My hero is Sandra Spectacular. She's alright. She has this psychic shield thing that makes her virtually invulnerable. She can fly, sort of- she levitates and skims around like she's hanging from a rigging system. And she can shoot these beams of light from her hands that can knock down walls. All very classic.
I know what you're thinking. You're wondering how to defeat someone who can do all that. STOP. That's not how you go about it.
Ask yourself how to defeat someone who CA N'T do very much ELSE.
I started as a villain when I was 21. Sandra was 16. I think that should be illegal, but the courts have made it very clear they do not care for my opinions about the law.
She was 30 when this went down. I was 31 ( I know it does n't add up, she had this this time travel war with Mr. Chrono-Catastrophe ). Know anyone else who's made it that long without being defeated by their hero?
Its all about knowing the rules.
I remember the day very clearly. Sandra had just taken down Rhino Rob. He was a tough one, but not creative. He could take her Spectra Beam to the face like it was nothing and throw cars at her while she zoomed around, but neither could put the other down. Eventually she lured him onto the docks and blasted them from underneath him. He could swim, or fight, but not both. So she kept blasting him whenever he got near shore until he got tired and gave up. It took that nutcase three hours to wear himself out. A better villain would have realized he was caught, surrendered, and then tried to escape. As it was he was so exhausted when she let him climb out of the bay that he just let her put the super-cuffs on him like a Lenny Lamb.
While all this was going down I was getting my work done. That little trick has done so much good for me over the years. If you put heroes in a `` save the bus of nuns or save the girl!'' situation they'll save both every time, but if they have to choose between stopping a rampaging rhino man or investigating a property crime they'll choose the one that saves innocent life. So while she was trying to give Rhino Rob blunt force trauma with laser beams, I was looting safe deposit boxes on the other side of town.
Do n't ask how. I NEVER talk about my powers.
Its enough that you know that I am very, very good at getting what I want.
So normally this would have been enough. Sandra Spectacular takes down Rhino Rob and congratulates herself on a job well done, I empty some safe deposit boxes, she figures it out eventually and makes another mental note to blast me into next week when she can get around to it, but then never does because there's always another Rhino Rob.
This time she tracked me home. She teamed up with a hero from a few cities over, one of those gadget whiz types, and they planted tracking devices in a couple of my likely targets. I stole one and never realized it. I was looking out for psychic witch ladies who ca n't program their own TIVO, not nano machines.
Mea culpa.
This is why your plans need backup plans.
When she kicked down the door to my home I was letting Samantha try on the Crown Jewels of Moldova. She had her jammies on, and the color matched, and what the hey, right? I had the blinds drawn. She did n't know the jewels were real but they made her smile.
Samantha's my daughter. Sort of. You might say... on paper. I had been taking care of her for about a year. I was keeping tabs on Sandra while she was fighting some alien robot, I do n't think we ever gave it a name. Anyway, pro tip- when the big punchy punchy types are smashing open buildings fighting each other, there can be some nice stuff inside. Help yourself to it! Simple and easy. So that's what I was up to when the alien lances off the top story of an orphanage, and I see this little girl, like, three years old, shielding the other children with a psychic shield.
I adopted her that week. I just knew it was the right thing to do. On paper the rules say you have to be a fit parent to adopt a child, but the REAL rules say that your paperwork has to look right in the computer for the twelve hours it takes to erase the child from the grid, so that's how I handled matters. You might have seen the aftermath in the papers. They called it an abduction, as if she was n't better off with the Silver Ghost.
She took to me right away. She did n't speak much at first, I think she'd been through a lot, but she was calling me Daddy within a week. And from that point out I was a model father. Took her to the petting zoo, made her dinner every night, read her stories for bed, everything. I was utterly indistinguishable from her real father, whoever he was. I even taught her the first level of my powers as the Silver Ghost. She took to them really well.
NO. I told you I wo n't tell you what those are.
So when Sandra Spectacular kicks in my front door, Samantha yells `` No!!!'' and floats three feet off the ground between us, shielding me from the splinters with her little energy shield. I was so proud of the little squirt.
But it was n't time to show that. I stood quietly, and in a calm, even voice asked Samantha to go upstairs for bed while I talked to the nice lady. I emphasized *nice* and gave Sandra a look, and she nodded back uncertainly and smiled uneasily at Samantha.
Samantha listened. She's a good kid.
So I and Sandra spend the evening talking. Sandra felt terrible about scaring a child, and awful about assuming that I was some sort of megalomaniac loner. About how, yes, I'm a father. No, there's no mother. I heavily suggest that its a painful story and that I do n't like talking about it, and Sandra lets it go. She's a softy like that.
And we just ended up talking for a while. About our lives. I talked about the responsibilities of being a single parent- I really poured it on. How hard it was. It is n't hard, actually. Not when you finance your life with jewel theft. I was practically a 24 hour stay at home dad except for the hour or two every few days when I left Samantha with a babysitter and robbed a vault. But Sandra did n't need to know that.
And Sandra opened up to me about what its like to be a hero going into your thirties when you started at sixteen. About realizing that you could n't fit into the same costume anymore and probably never would, about reading snippy articles in the paper about it. About realizing that literally no one pays you to be a super hero. About fighting a Time War for four years and returning to a timeline where your war never happened. About realizing that this really was going to be your life- that you could never solve everything, there would always be another villain, that you needed to compromise, to let some things go in order to focus on what really mattered.
I guess that was me, in a way. The villain she always had to let go.
Eventually Samantha stuck her head down the stairway again, still wearing the Moldovian Crown Jewels. Sandra wiped her eyes- she'd been getting a little teary- and gave me a look for that. But she let it go once more. Samantha was still scared of her, and she felt really bad about that. In the end we wound up reading her a story together. And when Sandra left that evening, I took an out of character risk and asked for her number.
And... yeah. We've been together for about six years now. She and Samantha are great together. Sandra still fights crime, of course, but she's accepted that she was never really going to catch me, so it does n't really matter if she turns a blind eye to a few thefts here and there so long as I do n't hit anyone who could really be hurt. And I was always fine with her fighting other villains. By all means, knock around some meat heads.
So I'm a model father, and a model husband. With a beautiful wife and an incredible, psychically talented child.
And that's that, really. That's one hero defeated. Its all about understanding the rules of the game, is n't it? The real rules. It is n't about punchy-fighty nonsense. That's what's on paper. Its about getting what you want. And I'm very good at getting what I want.
-- -- --
*Sandra Spectacular*
My husband? I suppose I'm not surprised you'd ask about him. I did n't want to talk about this, but I suppose I owe you at least something of an answer.
Remember the Time War? I lived the same four years twice, and not even chronologically. It was n't easy. It was n't easy to do, it was n't easy to understand, and the story is n't easy to follow. I do n't think I can summarize it for you in the time we have. But here's what Mr. Chrono-Catastrophe explained to me, before his end- If you fool with time, it repairs itself. Happenstance, gut feelings, all the little things in life conspire to put the world back the way it was supposed to be. And you can give things a little push as well, if you try.
During those four years I was missing, a lot happened. I met someone. We fought a war together. We had a child.
Please do n't tell my husband that Samantha's really ours. He's not ready.
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[ WP ] A person is born unable to hear lies . Whenever a lie is told around them , they can only hear the truth .
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Cyril decided to sit outside today. The cafe was always crowded, and the sun was finally shining.
The waitress sat him against the railing, facing the small art walk in downtown Portland. This was a place for all types of artists; chalk artists, performance artists, bucket drummers, and slam poets all lined the small courtyard, pumping their brand. Passers by stopped to watch, or buy, or scoff. Cyril took it all in. He loved Portland.
Cyril tried very hard not to eavesdrop. At age 9, he discovered he was either gifted or cursed; he had yet to decide which. Cyril could only hear the truth in people's speech. It made eavesdropping a sad and worthless endeavor. People lied a lot more than Cyril could appreciate.
A couple was sat at the table next to him. Cyril sipped his water and looked at the menu. Couples were the worst to eavesdrop. Either Cyril would sit and listen to sappy nonsense, knowing the couple was too young in love to experience heartache. Or, quite more common, Cyril would listen as one or both of them lied all night.
Cyril decided on his meal -- the usual chicken stew -- and set his menu down. He turned and focused on the performance artists in the square. A man on stilts was shouting made-up bible verses at passers by. *Ah, Portland*, thought Cyril.
He could n't help but overhear the couple next to him.
`` I love you,'' he said.
`` I know,'' she said.
`` Listen there's something I need to ask you...'' his voice trailed off.
`` Please, do n't.'' She said, her voice caught.
`` Amy, I've loved you since the day I met you. I've always loved you, and I will always love you. These last few months have been the happiest of my life.''
Cyril could hear a chair scoot back.
`` Amy Lynn Piletta,'' the man said.
`` God, James, no...'' she said.
`` Will you marry me, and make me the happiest man in the world?'' He sounded so sincere.
`` I'm going to hurt you,'' she said. `` I'm not happy, and I have n't been in a long time. This is a mistake. I was too childish and afraid to end this months ago, and now it's going to hurt even worse.''
Cyril tried to fight the pang of sadness in his chest. The waitress appeared next to him, and he ordered. As she took his menu and left, Cyril looked over at the couple.
The man was kneeling, placing a ring on the woman's finger. She was in tears, smiling and nodding as the other patrons congratulated her.
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[ WP ] Your job has been to sit in a room with only a chair , desk , and phone . Your only instructions are to answer the phone when it rings . After 8 years the phone finally rings .
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Ring Ring Ring!
my palms are wet as a shiver
spreads through my body like an earthquake
Eight Years
I hoped the day would never come
At first I could barely accept my good fortune
the money flowed and all I did was sat and waited
There was only one rule
They never told me what would happen
they never mentioned anything other than the one
cryptic directive to answer the call when it would come
`` When it rings, pick up the phone''
I could do whatever my heart desired
in those eight hours every day I was a free man
A free man with means to pay his bills and a corner office with a desk.
Eight years of silence
I had forgotten that the phone was there
It sat innocuous on the corner of the desk an
old fashioned monolith of black cord and rotary dial
Ring Ring Ring!
My head is spinning from the fear
that I suddenly feel welling up inside of me
The future an unknown that waits on the other side of the line
RING RING RING!
The ringing fills my ears as I brace myself
to answer the phone before it stops
the one job I was given
Silence
My heart is trying to escape my chest as
a new fear fills the void left by the old
I've traded one unknown for another
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[ WP ] A hardcore partier shows their guardian angel a good time . The angel gets sucked into the lifestyle and is on a fast downward spiral . The partier then has to step in and recover the angel .
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The music in the club was so loud and Zophie was having the best night she'd had in a thousand years she almost did n't hear her phone ringing. `` Hang on guys got ta take this - it's a client''. She stomped off the dance floor to a quieter corner, frustrated by being distracted from her fun. `` Steve I hope you're not dead - I told you I was going out so be careful! I'm your guardian angel not your girlfriend!... What do you mean it's'important'?...... ugh fine I'll be right there.'' Angerly pocketing her phone she clapped her hands together and upended a table of drinks as she drunkenly de-materialized.
There was a faint crackling of the air in the middle of the chair-circle and a flash of light as Zophie appeared. `` Gabriel? Ariel? Michael? Jesus what are they doing here Steve? What the hell is this?
`` We're here because we all care a lot about you Zoph'' Gabriel said with with angelic grace. `` We need to talk about your recent choices that are affecting the ones you love''.
`` THIS WEEK ON'INTERVENTION' A PARTYING PROTECTOR IS CONFRONTED BUT WILL SHE GET HER WINGS?''
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[ IP ] Cloudscape
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A beam of clear blue light shot up from the ground again. The clouds parted to make way, and the giant Moon was illuminated by its intense brightness. It was beautiful, but terrifying because it meant I would die today.
Everything was silent.
You would think with such an event happening some sound would be emitted by something somewhere, but... there was just silence.
We were just outside the blast radius of the strange light last time. Blue stars rained down like hail and crashed into the ground, demolishing anything in their way. The craters surrounding the beam of light were eerie. Not a week earlier a lush forest cloaked the land around the city.
My sister and I have been travelling away from the light that was once our city for days. We traveled through the forest and found food and water. When the light destroyed the forest the day after we escaped it, I realized how futile our efforts were. We could n't beat this thing. The people who wanted the inhabitants of our city had won, just a little later than they expected.
We had gotten the heads up on the plot to bomb the city from a friend who worked in a lab down there. Apparently he had n't known the whole story. I have chosen to believe him to keep my memory of him fond. I still do n't know what exactly was going on, and I probably never will, but the gist of it was the government had been grooming our city from the beginning as a bomb test zone. Thousands of people living their lives, building their families, was all some experiment. It meant nothing. My friend was killed for telling us. He would have lived if he had only kept his mouth shut. He was brave, but it was all for nothing now.
I looked away from the city and saw the prairies and forests. What had once given me hope, now mocked me. There was no way we'd reach them in time. I always said I'd get out and explore those one day. I did get to the closest forest, so I ca n't complain much, I guess.
My sister sat down next at my feet.
`` What are you doing? Come on. Let's go. We have to get out of here!'' I said as urgently sounding as I could. Just because I knew we were doomed did n't mean I'd let my sister die without hope.
`` There's no way we can make it. I'm not stupid,'' she said. Her voice, usually so full of life, was hollow and monotone. My vision was getting blurry from the tears welling up in my eyes. I blinked hard.
`` No, come on. We can do it,'' I told her. I tried to make myself sound convincing, but my voice cracked. `` Come on.'' I grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. I cleared my throat before speaking again. `` All we need to do is find something to hide under. Something like... a tree.''
She looked skeptical. `` If all you have to do is hide under something, then why is the city destroyed now?''
I racked my brain. `` B-because you have to hid under something organic, natural. Everything in the city was metal and concrete and all that.''
She looked me in the eyes. `` Okay,'' she said softly. She knew. There was no convincing her. She was just humoring me now. I grabbed her hand and crawled under a felled tree with her.
`` We'll be safe here,'' I said.
`` Okay,'' she said.
I saw the blue orbs of light raining down from the sky. They seemed to move so slowly, slow enough that I could outrun them... I could do it. The adrenaline would help me. I could n't just die.
`` C'mon!'' I yelled to me sister. I grabbed her hand and pulled her out from under the tree.
`` What are you doing?!'' she cried.
`` Running! Follow me!''
I sprinted as fast as I could towards my salvation. The prairies invigorated me with hope once again. I could hear my sister struggling to keep up. I heard an explosion behind me. The first star had crashed. It was behind me. I could make it. A barrage of crashes followed, so loud I could n't think. It shook the ground and rattled my teeth. I glanced back. My sister had stopped running and was a long distance away. She raised her hand at me. The shaking and my running prevented me from screaming at her. I kept running as I heard the loudest explosion yet right behind me, and it engulfed me in a wave of heat. My eyes spilled over with tears as I ran. Through my blurry vision I saw the prairie. It was so close. My sister... It was so close... She could have made it with me...
Then I saw the blue stars touch down for miles ahead of me and detonate. The prairie was gone. I slowed to a jog. There was no way. My hope drained, my grief kicked in, and I collapsed in the heat of the last explosion.
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[ WP ] in a future universe super powers are available for purchase . However it costs $ 250,000 and you can not pick your power , it 's decided based on personality and physical attributes . You have finally saved up enough money ...
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`` Void?''
`` Yes, Void''
`` But... void... really?'' the voice was muffled by a layer of bandage.
The doctor shifted uneasily in his perched position at the end of the bed.
`` Listen Mr Grant, can I call you...?'' He glanced down at the clipboard in his hand `` Opie, really, like the Charactor in the Andy...?''
The bandaged man in the bed waved this away, his arm
`` Yes, like in the show, look you were telling me about Void''
`` Right, right, right, void'' The doctor spent a moment tapping dazzling white teeth with the end of a pen and staring into the heavens for a moment before continuing. `` Opie, Here at Gene-Genie we garuantee that the Powers we provide are absolutely and precisely tailored to each client.''
He stood, and paced towards the window
`` Our researchers investigate every faccet of the clients personality, life-style, moral standing...'' Each point was ticked off with a tap to his perfect teeth. ``... sexual hisory, every facet, every nuance of their psychy''
`` But... void though?'' The nurse by his side tsk'd him into silence as she began to unpick the dressings at his temples and throat.
Dr. Sandstrom spun from the window, his finely creased trousers settling instantly over his highly polished Oxford Brogues.
`` Woah now Mr. Grant, Opie, I do n't think you understand quite what this power is.'' The Doctor smoothly arched an eyebrow `` When we looked into you, do know what we found, do you?''
He leaned forward and continued in a conspiritorial whisper `` We found a guy who gets the superman package at no extra charge.'' Dr. Sandstrom sat upright, his eyes glistening with corporate pride.
`` We found a guy that when someone tries to shoot him, the bullets will just fall to the ground, spent of energy'' a manicured hand patted the patients knee `` When a bad guy punches him, the force is absorbed with no harm and can be stored for later use.''
The light level in the room dimmed as the last of the bandages were removed.
`` In essence, Mr. Grant, after looking into you, into your soul, we finally found someone who deserved the great attracter.'' A look of humbled awe had come over his face `` Someone who could be the singularity.''
After a moments silence, the patient in the bed whispered a single word.
`` Awesome''
His work done, the Doctor hung the clipboard on the end of the bed and backed out of the room.
Turning left in the corridor his pace picked up. Now striding purposefully.
Now jabbing impatiently at the buttons on several lifts, and barging through various security checkpoints, the sound of voices could be heard over his echoing footsteps, a back and forth litany in bored tones.
`` John Radcliff''
`` Erm... flying.''
`` William Gambit''
`` He's down for telekinesis, but we are out of TK6 til next week, so... invisibility?''
`` Lisa Mahone.''
`` Fire, cause she's like so damn h...''
Dr. Hamilton Sandstrom came to the door of the small sub-basement room, raised the supple leather of his glossy footwear, and kicked it in.
The two men seated at the console paused sentence, and in one case mid-cheeto-to-mouth.
`` Gentlemen, I like to think of myself as a calm man, a professional man, but really this is intolerable.'' he stared into their blank, childlike faces, the rage draining out of him in an instant.
`` Look, do n't you understand, do n't you get how badly we could be sued. If he ever figures it out... Oh forget it'' with a sigh he turned and stalked from the room, leaving the two men to sit in silence.
After a moment, a quiet chant was all that could be heard behind him.
`` OP sucks!''
^'' OP ^sucks!''
^^'' OP ^^sucks!''
^^^'' OP ^^^sucks!''
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[ WP ] Write a story that will scare me out of wasting my life
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I sat at the table looking at my mildly warm turkey, my runny mashed potatoes and my rubbery stuffing. Golden Coral offers 50 % off of their buffets on Thanksgiving and throw in some thanksgiving style items like the monstrosity that sat in front of me. Not a lot of people know that, most people are at home with their family, talking about how James is doing at college or Megan with her new job at the hospital. All of them stuffed into a single overly crowded warm room.
There were some families at the tables around me. Families who probably did n't have a good cook or did n't want to deal with all the hassle, but I sat alone. I had for the past 3 years. At the age of 65 I retired from the office at age 68 I sat here. I sat here because it was inexpensive and hassle free. I had never started a family, work had been my life. I always was saving the money I made, finding ways to be `` cost effective'' I had always told myself. I bought bulk boxes of 1 ply toliet paper, drank cheap coffee, kept my house at 62 in the winter and 81 in the summer to save on bills, I drove a 2001 Alero Oldsmobile, my fridge was filled with coupons, I wore my shoes until there was a sale. Sale sale sale. The only word that motivated me more than profits, margins, stocks, buy, sell.
There was a girl once. I met her shortly after college...... Bethany was her name. We dated for 10 months. She asked me to move from New York to the Carolina's with her. I could n't, there was no way. We broke up shortly after that. That was the closest I had come to intimacy. My family was dead, I had no friends only co-workers, my cat was just as distant as I was. I least we shared that.
2.513 million dollars. 2,513,452.67 dollars in my savings account, I had to pull out my phone to check but it was all there, just like it had been when I checked this morning. Up until this moment that had been my biggest fear, that I would wake up and some would be missing. All that money, what was the point of it all? I am 68 years old. If I die tomorrow who will care? What was the point of the 1 ply toliet paper, the coupons, the FUCKING GOLDEN CORAL THANKSGIVING DINNER! I was rich but I had nothing. Money should be spent on being close to the people we love.
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[ CW ] Write an apocalyptic story of any kind.. but you ca n't use more than 3 E 's ...
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All is now dust of what was our world, all but two human survivors in low orbit of it, and a significant population on its only moon, Luna.
`` Oh, look,'' says Jim, staring out a window, `` look at it.''
`` Look at what?'' Chad asks.
`` The world.''
`` Ca n't find it. Turn us around a bit so I can look. ``
`` No. Nonono. You ca n't look. It's all in bits now. That's what I was talking about, saying'Look,' and all that.''
`` Oh.''
`` …Why?'' Chad asks again.
“ I don ’ t know. Why would I know? Ask Mr. Narrator.''
“ Mr. what?''
`` Oh. Nothing,'' Jim said. `` C'mon, all of humanity is waiting for us. Last survivors. How long until the Hohmann burn?''
Chad floats to a clock, grabs it, looks at a list, grabs that too, and shows both to Jim. Jim and Chad talk about it and do math in Chad's calculator, and Jim and Chad will now wait for a burn window.
... Thus begins civilization.
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[ WP ] Take something that 's usually mundane and insignificant , and make it as emotional and dramatic as possible .
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Raspberry Vinaigrette Salad Dressing. I did n't realize it was in my hand until after I had put it in the cart. I stared down at it numbly. Of course I'd pick up a bottle, it was always on my list when I went grocery shopping. Week after week, year after year, I'd always make sure to pick up a bottle along with the milk and the bread and the eggs. $ 2.49 this week - pretty good price actually, normally I'd pick up two. I looked up at the shelf and slowly put the dressing back. It was her favorite... there was still half a bottle left in the fridge. She had n't finished it before the stroke. The hospital. The funeral. Had it only been a week since I'd gone grocery shopping?
I walked away from my cart and into the parking lot before people could see the tears running down my face.
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[ WP ] God decides to show you what being God is like .
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`` Maddening. They are never happy.'' The voice says. It beats through my ears like a drum. I ca n't shake it. It is n't my voice or a voice I've ever heard a human have.
`` Who... What...'' I start out loud, feeling silly.
`` God. I'm ranting.'' The voice says, now noticibly not female or male but just... There.
`` God. Right. Why are you talking to me like this?'' I ask, rubbing my ears from the shock.
`` I'm tired as fuck being the only one out here. I need someone to understand. Just listen.'' The voice intimates, cutting off to let a billion voices overtake it.
I ca n't handle it. I fall to the floor in agony. There is so much pain and anger.
`` Are these the people of the world that believe in you?'' I ask, holding my ears instinctively, even though it does no good. The voices permeate my soul.
`` Not only. These are the people cursing me and denying my existence to others, too. I never get rest. It is demand, vanity and terrible saddness 24/7.'' The voice cries out like a child.
`` What can I do?'' I ask, feeling horrible for the voice, whoever it is.
`` Believe in me and ask not what I can do for you. Ask what you can do for others. Spread the message. Love and be loved.'' The voice says quietly.
`` How can I believe in something I ca n't see?'' I say, finally getting up off of the floor.
`` You know I'm here. Do n't be silly. Even if I'm just a paranoid voice in your head, my wisdom is sound. Now go. Where you go I will always be.'' The voice says.
I feel a letting go of my eardrums. They are no longer occupied by the voice. I start to cry. I have never felt so alone as when I knew what God heard daily and then had to let it go.
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[ EU ] A witch/wizard from a fantasy world is attempting to summon a mighty warrior to aid them in their quest . Instead they get a rather puny looking human male who introduces himself as `` Bruce Banner '' ...
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Zoggon blinked. The light previously emitted from his staff had left an afterimage of a sphere in his eye. He was n't sure, but he thought his spell might have worked. He needed a warrior stronger than he to overthrow the King, who employed him. Through careful studying he found a way to manipulate space to find the strongest, most powerful being in the entire multiverse, and bring him to this particular universe.
Zoggon may have been the most powerful wizard this world has ever known, but the King has millions of trained soldiers at his ready. The King does n't conquer. He has never mobilized his army. He simply threatens all the countries and kingdoms.
He says “ I will bring to you what I have brought to my own people, unless you unconditionally surrender. ”
Weirdly enough. They always surrendered. Zoggon could no longer idly stand by and watch the King murder his own subjects. But now... Now things would change. The afterimage had finally began to disappear, and he called to his warrior.
“ Come forth, great warrior! ” He called to the black spot in his eye.
The warrior sat at a desk. Pen to paper, but had suddenly become aware that he was not in his office any more.
“ Come forth, I say! ” Repeated the wizard.
The man stood up from his desk, and pushed his chair back in, as he cautiously steppd toward the wizard.
“ Ya know, I was in the middle of some pretty important research... ” the man said flatly.
Zoggon's jaw dropped; as did his staff. The noise of the staff, bouncing, echoed around his lair.
“ Who... are you? ” Zoggon asked.
“ I'm Bruce, ” said Bruce, who was carefully inspecting the wizard.
“ There must be some mistake... ” said Zoggon.
“ That's what I was just about to say, ” Bruce said, taking a slightly defensive stance.
“ My attempt was to summon the most powerful being in the entire multiverse. ”
Bruce sighed. “ If I had a nickel... ” He thought.
“ Well it's clearly not me. ” Bruce lied.
“ Clearly... ” Said the wizard.
“ You can send me back to my work right? ” asked Bruce.
“ I'll try to work something out. ” Said the Zoggon.
Before Bruce could thank the man, his heart sank. A loud pounding sound rolled through the cavernous home of the wizard. He heard men shouting, metal clanging, swords being unsheathed, and a loud, prominent voice.
“ Zoggon! ” Shouted the voice. “ Stop your foolishness! ”
Zoggon turned and raised his staff over his head.
“ Stay behind me, and do n't speak. ” Zoggon whispered to Bruce. “ Though, if you are any kind of warrior, now is the time to prepare- ”
Before Zoggon could finish speaking, no less than a hundred men, with shiny metal armor, came barreling through the door of the wizard's home. It was quite a large door, but even still it took some time for all the men to file into a neat circle around the men. The men spread apart and collapsed back into place as the King walked through the ranks into the center, to face his prey.
“ Zoggon, ” the King's voice boomed. “ We could hear your spell from the field. What did I tell you about magic. ”
“ Well, to be honest, and seeing as I'm going to die anyway... I had thought that by the time you arrived, I would have a warrior powerful enough to destroy you and your corrupt army. ”
“ Foolish man! ” The King shouted. “ Though you are right. You, and your... warrior... ” the King's soldiers laughed, “ are indeed going to die.''
Bruce stepped forward toward the King. The king was a formidable man, even without his army. He was tall and muscular. Bruce got the impression that he was easily the largest man in this entire world. He stood nearly seven feet tall and his shoulders were as wide as two of his other men.
“ I have nothing against you, King ” Said Bruce. “ Please, I do n't wish to fight. ”
The King laughed.
“ Fight? ” he laughed. “ I surely doubt anything possible meaning of'fight' is not what is about to happen. More like... an execution. ”
The King turned and motioned to his men. They parted and a man stepped toward the wizard and drew his sword. He raised it above his head, and the sooner than he could bring it down, the Wizard shot him across the room with a blaze of fire.
“ Run! ” Screamed the wizard.
“ No, ” Bruce said. “ I need you to send me home! ” Bruce shouted.
The wizard noted that Bruce began to change. At first, he began to look sickly. His skin was rapidly turning green. His hair was as well. Bruce fell to his knees and slammed his fists into the ground. The floor beneath him cracked. As he stood up, a soldier brought his sword down on the mutating man. Bruce caught the sword in a giant, green hand.
The wizard had watched Bruce morph into a giant green man. As the Hulk stood up, he ripped the weapon away from the soldier and crushed the blade in his clenched fist. At once, the entire room swarmed toward the giant. With one sweep of his arm, the Hulk sent a dozen soldiers flying across the room. Behind the beast, the soldiers were learning that trying to cut the monster was hugely ineffective. Especially when the Hulk down a massive clenched fist down onto them like a wrecking ball.
With one hand, the Hulk grabbed a soldier by the head, clenched down, and swung the corpse around the room. With the other, he had squarely punched a man in the chest, collapsing his armor, and sending him rocketing backwards, through the crowd and smashing into a wall.
After a score of men were killed, the rest decided, to the wizard's amazement, to flee. The Hulk released the soldier's head and turned to the wizard.
“ Send me back, NOW! ” The creature yelled.
The wizard fell to his knees.
“ Warrior, I understand why you hid your power from me. I promise I will find a way to send you back, but I beg of you. Help me. The king is ruthless! He slaughters his own people! Tortures men who will not obey him, and rapes women who will not marry him! If you stop him. I can return you to your world. ”
The Hulk said nothing. He simply turned toward the door and began to walk out.
“ Will you help me? ” Called Zoggon.
“ Yes. ” said the hulk.
As the hulk stepped through the door, a fiery, molten rock came streaming down from the sky. In the distance, the Hulk saw a catapult following through from it's throw. The hulk caught the ball of fire in his hand. Examined it briefly, then flung it back toward it's origin. He saw the men, like dots, run away as the ball crashed into the catapult.
The wizard, heard the commotion outside his door, but did his best to ignore it while he poured through his books for a way to send the beast home. He did n't not want to disappoint the creature. The destruction grew quieter outside as the Hulk moved toward the castle. The screams and falling objects were occasionally carried by the wind through the gaping Hulk-shaped hole in the wizard's home, but it was n't enough to disturb him.
Zaggon found the passage he was looking for. It spoke of reversing the last spell your staff had performed. Perfect. As he closed his book, the Hulk stepped back through the makeshift door he had previously created. He threw the King down at the wizards feet. His legs were crushed and was near death.
“ Ask him about his army. ” the Hulk said.
The wizard looked at the King. The King breath was labored, and shallow.
“ They... ” the King gasped. “ They abandoned me. ”
“ They ran. Fled the city. ” the Hulk noted.
“ What about the King's son? Surely he will- ”
The King's son stepped forward, from behind the Hulk.
“ This creature and I had a lengthy discussion about the future of the Kingdom, Zaggon. I believe that you and I can bring it to it's former glory. With your wise console, and my... being the King, we can help restore peace. ”
“ Lengthy? ” asked the wizard, puzzled. “ He's only been here for 45 minutes! ”
“ Lengthy enough, ” Said the new King.
“ Now, as you promised. ” Said the Hulk.
“ So be it. ” Said the wizard.
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[ WP ] You might be able to triumph over your foe many times , but your opponent needs only to succeed once .
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For years I have been fighting them. They keep trying, day after day, night after night they keep coming for me. If I release my vigilance, if a day I fail, all my loved ones, the few that can still be called that way, will be doomed. They will fall to them after me if I fail.
My fight must go on, no end is to be see but that doens't matter. Not also matter which drug I must take to keep fighting nor the ruin that my life became, as long as I stand. Few know what are my battles, less believes it and not even a handfull understand it.
The demons I face know no rest, no mercy, no matter what. The scars on my body are like a graphic novel about what I went through. That night again they were close to get me and I won a new scar. The blade is still in my hand and my blood flow from my arm but that scratch wont kill me, I got worse wounds. Today is another day of fight as will be tomorow, because the demons inside my head know no rest.
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[ EU ] Faced with the return of dragons , the people of Westeros turn to their only hope ... the Dragonborn .
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Born to house Stormcaller, Alfhind had been nothing special. His Father Sven had been sworn to the Starks and he had gone to fight with the King in the North when the time came. Good with a sword, but not the best, a good shot with a bow, but not the best, and a fine rider, but not the fastest.
He had fought with Robb Stark, against the armies of the Lannisters. In victory, and ultimately in defeat. He had been lucky enough not the be with Robb's Party at the Red Wedding, but they were broken now. He went north, home. Perhaps Thunderhead Castle was still intact.
This was not so, the castle was in ruin, the structure there but everything other than the stone was gone. The Flags, the Stable, even the door. He looked around, and saw the grave hall open. He drew his sword, if those savages had sacked his family's graves he would end them.
Alfhind stepped in to see a strange light at the end of the hall. he walked down and saw the seal, where the founder of the house was buried, was glowing like the lights in the sky. He Heard a voice speak strange words. It grew louder and louder. Eventually six streams of light rushed into him. His mind saw millions of words. Wind, Run, Death, Rain, Drain, Friend, Beast, Fire, Ice. Written in words he did not know but somehow knew perfectly.
four ghostly men appeared before him. `` Alfhind of house storm caller, Dovakhin, your time has come.''
`` Who are you! what is going on? What sorcery is this!?''
`` We are the spirits of the Greybeards, sent to await your coming. The time is upon you. the end draws near.''
`` What are you talking about?''
`` Alduin has returned. Far to the East He has been born again. You must find the words of power, learn the way of the voice, and save the world once more.''
`` I do n't understand.''
`` We will teach you, Dovakhin. But you must learn quickly, for the hour is late.''
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[ WP ] Your long term SO has always disappeared at noon on Sunday for three hours , and never tells you where they go , even denying that they ever leave . This Sunday , you decide to follow them . What do you discover ?
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I love her dont I?
The first thing that went through my head, sitting in traffic three cars behind my wive's cab. Ever since we had first met in AP English, with the slightest brush for a dropped pencil and a smile, i had loved her. So why now was i filled with so much suspicion? She had always had this one secret, the only thing i couldnt ( and maybe shouldnt ) know.
But now i had to. one beautiful child and what felt like a lifetime of memories with her made me feel entitled to this. Baking in the california sun cooked sedan that our names shared, i started to sweat.
I had to know. I had a right to know, i told myself as i followed her yellow transport through traffic. they turned off the main road and i was forced to follow as close as i felt comfortable. She had never asked if i wanted to know, because i knew she didnt want to tell me.. She always left with the same now known smile, and a quick brush of our sons hair before she walked out the door and into the always waiting cab.
And like a good husband i had always waited for her to return, because she always did. Whether it was the first time, or now all these sundays later she always came back exactly four hours later. sometimes tired, sometimes exhausted, but always smiling she came back, so why doubt her?
`` Why am i here, what am i doing?'' i said aloud to no one but myself as i parked up the street from the lot her cab pulled into.
`` What the fuck am i actually doing here?'' i asked again almost begging my body to stop itself. But it didnt, i kept walking down the street, sweat now beading on my forehead and under my arms. Why was it so hot?
I kept going down the street until my hand was on the door someone had pulled shut behind the cab. Was she cheating? was there another family? drugs? all the possibilities had been rattling around my head for so long it didnt even matter any more.. i just had to know.
So with a final exhalation and a jerking draw of the door handle i unveiled what had eluded me for so long.
But it was nothing, the cab was gone and so was my wife. gone. Nothing behind the great sliding steel door but an empty lot. Stunned, i stood there, waiting for something to happen. just then a fluttering on the ground caught my eye, a piece of paper folded in half.
I made the fool crouching and chasing it around until i finally had it in my grasp. trembling, i open it, and see scrawled before me in half legible writing.
`` he must come today, after all these years. It ends today''
My heart stops... im supposed to be here... now. How did they know i would follow her now?? i turn just in time to see the door slide shut behind me, locking me in with god knows what.
I turn again, and there she is. Standing in a spot not possible to have eluded me before, she stood, watching me.
`` its time''
She said. At least i think it was her, her face was the same but the voice was... off.
`` what time Zoe? what am i doing here? what is this place? Wh..''
`` not yet''
She cut me off
`` all your answers will be here soon''
She said as she slowly extended her right index towards the sky.
and it appeared above me, in more glory than i ever thought possible. It was huge, slowly spinning and yet frozen in place. I couldnt take my eyes off it, it was beautiful. And then, along with a slight hum that seemed to vibrate throughout my very soul, i saw it.
I saw, everything.
I looked back at my wife and couldnt help but smile. She was now accompanied by our son, and countless other people i had known over my life.
`` we were waiting for you''
A voice said, from within my own mind.
Its good you've come home.
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[ WP ] An up and coming Super Hero has to explain to his long time villain how he 's being dumped for someone a bit more high profile .
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Civillians screamed as the man in powered armor walked through the city. Lasers shot out to disintegrate people left and right. His booming voice sounded through a megaphone in his suit. `` Brown Recluse! Where are you?!''
Cops had him surrounded by the time the Hero swung by on his web. Brown Recluse held his hand up in a gesture to make the crazed man stop shooting people. `` Look, just calm down.''
`` I robbed a bank the other day, and I got stopped by some man in a black outfit.'' The laser in his hand charged as he aimed it at the Hero. `` What the hell man? We're like a thing! You're supposed to stop me.''
`` I've moved on.''
`` You've moved on?!'' Gasping sounds were heard through the suit's speaker. `` I'm your nemesis! You ca n't just move on!''
Brown slowly approached his old villain. `` My powers have developed and I'm getting promoted. I fight threats to the world now. You just rob banks. I'm even part of a team and everything.''
`` But I knew you since high school. I was there when you got your powers, and you were bitten by that radioactive spider. Then you had a weird reaction to the chemotherapy and became this.''
Brown put a hand on the metallic armor. `` Look, I'm moving on in my career. You do n't even have a villain name.''
`` I'm working on it!''
`` I'm sorry, old friend. But this really is the end.'' Air rushed behind him and a man in full black armor landed on the ground. Every bit of his skin was covered, which was strange since last night the Hero has his chin and neck exposed. `` This is your Hero now.''
`` I am The Night.'' His voice was deep and gargly.
`` The Night? It's 4:30 in the afternoon.''
`` It's a work in progress.''
The villain looked to Brown Recluse. `` Do n't do this to me!''
`` Goodbye.'' Brown shot hit web onto a building and pulled himself up.
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[ WP ] You are walking home drunk from watching the Purge . You hear a siren go off and think you have to protect yourself from all the people around you .
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“ Ohf, no! ” Jim slurred, his beer-stained blue collar shirt was bursting at the buttons from his beer gut. He stumbled down Maine St., chugging his final sips of PBR before tossing the can aggressively down an alleyway to his right. The can ’ s impact was inaudible over the sirens, so was the sleeping homeless man ’ s protests at being hit in the head with the beer can.
The homeless man got up from under his cardboard box blanket in time to see Jim passing by the alleyway. The homeless man was equally as intoxicated as Jim, hence his current predicament.
The homeless man started walking up the alley towards Jim, ready to fight.
“ I ’ ve got ta get somewhere quick! ” Jim ’ s eyes widened as his beer induced psychosis mixed with his recent viewing of the Purge. His eyes quickly darted around the street as he looked for a safe-house to wait out the oncoming Purge in his mind.
“ Hey, you! ” the homeless man yelled, one hand on the corner of the brick alley. His dirt covered face looked like war-paint to Jim whose survival instincts immediately kicked in.
The sirens made the afternoon standoff more dramatic as Jim raised his fists, ready to fight this man to the death. The sun was beginning to set in what Jim would call a for-shadowy way if his blood couldn ’ t combust on an open flame.
The small town street was empty as families prepared for the coming storm. Jim had lost his job the previous night and had nowhere to turn to in his darkest hour, except the equally dark movie theater. Luckily, they also served beer.
“ I ’ m gon ’ fuck you up! ” Jim spat, literally, at the homeless man.
“ Bring it, son, ” the homeless man said, drawing a knife.
“ Wait, did you just say, ‘ son ’? ” Jim asked, dumbfounded, too intoxicated to remember he already knew his father.
“ Did I? ” the homeless man ’ s eyes looked down, rewinding the past few seconds of his conversation.
“ Dad! ” Jim yelled, tears coming to his eyes. He dropped his fists, unable to raise his hands against his recently long lost father.
“ Son! ” The homeless man yelled over the sirens, dropping the knife as they stumbled towards each other.
They embraced, too inebriated to notice the smell of garbage and alcoholism present in both of their scents. For a moment, all was at peace as they reconciled their differences, sobbing at the father-son connection they both shared.
Not one of them noticed the fact they were both in their forties.
As the downpour began, the clapping thunder sounded like applause in this movie-eqsue moment where their petty differences were finally resolved.
“ I ’ ve got to show you my house! ” Jim yelled over the rain, elated.
“ You have a house?! ” the homeless man screamed in surprise.
“ I don ’ t have any kids, though! ” Jim said, looking around at the scene in which he expected to see a bloody, lawless battle. Now realizing that it was the hurricane sirens.
“ Good, look how you turned out! ” the homeless man said, jokingly.
They walked to Jim ’ s house, arm around each other ’ s shoulder as they sang in the rain.
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[ WP ] You 're a lonely superhero trying to come up with an online dating profile .
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I've never really done this type of thing before, always thought dating profiles were for those desperate weird people. ( Not that i'm desperate or weird, i just have alot on my plate and no time for finding dates on my own ) My overbearing friend suggested this to me, and i told her i'd give it a try. since shes the person i trust with my largest secrets, shes never let me down before.
-I look over what the intro that i'v written, trying to put words together in my head to describe myself, what can i say, how could i describe what i do, without intimidating all the regular men and women with my greatness. i suppose anythings worth a shot, i cant stand being alone like this for very much longer, i need someone, and what do i have to lose-
I am a 5'9 single female, slight, with short chestnut brown hair. i work at a bank day to day, and i find my work quite prosperous. I do have a busy nightlife as well, i'm always out on the town. i would also have to say im very flexible, i bend over backward to help people, i enjoy doing good for others whether there's a reward in it for me or not.
-i wonder if i gave too much away there, or if i did n't give enough away, do i want them to know what i do, who i am... or should i pretend to be more normal... this would be so much simpler if i was n't some rubber band woman, although i suppose the bedroom would be less fun then.-
I'm looking for someone, male or female, who enjoys being kind to their fellow humans, who can see the good in others, and who has a positive outlook on life. You have to be fun though, and able to make me laugh ( A sense of humor now a days is so important ). But overall i suppose i believe in personalities that click.
-i read over what i've written, press save, and hope there's someone on this site, that suits me-
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[ WP ] `` You know what '' , the old man said , as he put aside his half-eaten sandwich . `` I read 'The Obituaries ' every morning . And I ca n't help but notice all the folk in their twenties , thirties and forties . These people are missing out on the better half of a lifetime . ''
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`` You know what'', the old man said, as he put aside his half-eaten sandwich. `` I read'The Obituaries' every morning. And I ca n't help but notice all the folk in their twenties, thirties and forties. These people are missing out on the better half of a lifetime.''
Knowing he'd continue speaking, I did n't respond.
`` I see it all the time, some kid in their teens killed in a car wreck. Or another in his early twenties on a motorcycle. These poor kids never got but a taste of life's sweetness. But it happens every week, sometimes even more frequently. Seeing their names and pictures make me feel sad for them. They never got the chance to really enjoy what all life brings.''
As he took a bite of his sandwich, I stared at the column on the paper. Twenty-three names this week. Twenty-three brothers, sisters, fathers and moms simply gone. Taken by the swift hand of death from their lives, their families, their hobbies and coworkers. No more joy, happiness, no more late movie nights with popcorn and soda. No more beach vacations. Plans for the future shattered before my eyes. Laid out neatly before me in times new roman on a tastefully designed column was more pain and emotion that I'd ever experience. As the old man kept talking I raised my eyes from the page to catch what he was saying.
`` Then, then you see the ones almost half my age. Men and women in their thirties and fourties. These people had kids, families that depended on them for more than just income. Families that they built through the hard times and good. These people did n't deserve to be ripped away from the treasure of watching their kids grow older and get married, or walk their daughters and sons down the isle. They missed out on what makes life truely golden. The one experience that is, just, just simply human. The experience that gives us old men a sense of wellbeing at night, a sense of pride in yourself that you younger folk wo n't know until much later. It's different than the pride you feel now.''
As he took a few bites of his sandwich, I tried to think of something to say. Some quote I'd read online, or some passage of text from a novel. But I could n't. There was simply nothing I felt I could say to add to what he had to say.
`` Before you leave, I want you look at all these names every week. You've probably had the experience of seeing somebody you knew on this same column before. Just look down and recognise that there is no promised tomorrow, you are n't born with a product guarantee. Your body does n't come with a warranty, so you ca n't treat it like there is one. You gain a sense of appreciation for life when you reach my age that I just could n't coprehend when I was yours. Old age has it's hardships, but it's more than watching the last grains fall through the hourglass.''
As he got up. I sat there silent, only muttering `` It was great talking to you.'' I sat and stared at the names, and I could n't help but think of what the page would read when my name would be printed on that very column. Printed alongside others in times new roman, with my picture smiling back at the reader.
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[ WP ] A man plans to pick up a package from the post office . On his way , he keeps getting dragged into the middle of cliche movie plots . Describe his exasperated day !
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A woman tripped and fell. Her grocery bag full of leafy carrots and French bread spilled all over the sidewalk.
Luke was a nice guy, so he tried to help. `` Miss, are you okay?''
No response. The woman did not movie. She did not even appear to be breathing.
`` Stand back!'' shouted a Good Samaritan. `` I'm a doctor!.''
The doctor pushed Luke aside and bent over the woman. He placed his fingers on her wrist.
`` There's no pulse!'' the good doctor shouted. `` We need to get her to the hospital STAT.'' He fixed his eyes on Luke. `` You, sir. I need your car.''
Luke's mouth opened soundlessly. He tried to utter a protest ( `` But I need to get to the post office!'' ) but he could not bring himself to say them. What cruel person would refuse to give a dying person a ride to the hospital? What did the post office matter when a woman was on the brink of death?
`` Time is of the essence,'' the doctor prosed. He opened his doctor bag and brought out an unwieldily defillibrator. While powering up the monstrous looking machine, the doctor again pointed to Luke.
`` Open her blouse?''
`` What?'' At least this time, Luke was able to utter an actual word.
`` Hurry.''
Luke knelt by the woman's side. He tried to keep his fingers light as he touched the blouse. His fingers hooked under one of the buttons at the base of her collarbone, and tore open the blouse. The woman's bare chest showed, her flawless breasts cupped by the seashells of a white, lacy bra.
Luke was pushed away again by the doctor, who pressed the defillibrator ends to the woman's chest.
`` Clear!''
A burst of electricity caused the woman's body to jump. It was only an automatic response of the body. She was still deathly pale.
`` Clear!''
Another burst, and this one seemed to strike her back to life. She rose up, coughing as her body took in air.
The crowd surrounding them began to cheer.
`` No need to thank me,'' the doctor announced. `` It's all in a day's work.''
As it appeared his car was no longer needed, Luke exited silently. He hopped up the steps to the brass doors of the post office, and stepped inside.
A long line wound its way through the building. Luke peered ahead and saw one bored clerk at the window, her mascara-ringed eyes glazed and her lips in a sullen sneer.
Luke resigned himself to a long wait.
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[ WP ] An alien reconnaissance satellite is discovered in the upper atmosphere . Then what happens ?
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*beep* Mission control to Knight 5, you are go for burn.'' *beep*
*beep* `` Roger that MC, we are go for burn in 30 seconds.'' *beep*
Jeb begins punching in his variables into the flight computer. He only needs to burn for a few short seconds in order to send his space craft sailing through the web of communication satellites and orbital debris that circle the planet at ridiculous speeds, enough to easily shred the Knight 5 into bits of scrap and wiring if he got his calculations wrong.
The Knight 5 is the most advanced space craft ever built by the Earth Space Agency. Featuring 5 small communications satellites, 2 landing probes, hydroponic garden, and enough firepower to make a US Navy carrier blush, the Knight 5 was meant for travelling through the solar system and set up satellites at various solar bodies to monitor for any unusual activities, such as an unidentified alien space probes in high Earth orbit.
`` Mark'' Jeb said to Bill as he pressed a button on the flight computer. The Knight 5's 6 NPR-660 nuclear powered engines fired at maximum thrust. A few seconds later the engines shut off and the two pilots could unglue themselves from their seats. `` So what do you think it's gon na look like?'' Jeb asked.
`` I do n't care. The fact that we even found this thing is monumental. Our entire civilization is now on a completely different road now that we've found definitive proof that we are not alone in this universe.''
`` You think that looks do n't matter in a situation like this? I mean come on, we are sending the most advanced piece of technology we have to rendezvous with it. I expect it to look just as good as we do. After all, you do n't go to a first date without a tie on.''
`` It does n't matter what it looks like, at least someone is going to say it looks like a penis, so why care about how it looks?''
`` Point taken.''
*beep* `` MC to Knight 5, how are things looking on your end? We're getting a little interference and we think it might be throwing off our readings. What's your time to intercept?'' *beep*
*beep* `` Knight 5 to MC, we'll be at the doorstep in 15 minutes' `` *beep*
*beep* `` MC to Knight 5, copy that. Keep us posted if you run into any problems, we'll let you know if anything changes on our end.'' *beep*
*beep* `` Copy That'' *beep*
Silence was all that was heard on their journey to the unknown object. Bill and Jeb both knew that they would be ushering in a new era into humanity, whether or not it descended into death, darkness, and despair depended on how friendly our new neighbors are. Earth has long since been a peaceful planet, ever since they realized it was doomed to die and we were the headsman's axe. But we were n't stupid enough to stop developing new weapons in case such an event as this were to happen.
*beep* Knight 5 to MC, we are beginning to match velocities with target at and park it 100m out *beep*
Surprisingly, the Knight 5 was also a very nimble for it's size. Being able to to rotate 180 degrees and stop on a dime in less than 3 seconds, this ship was meant to handle space combat. It's main defense tactics were to rapidly change course in order to mislead their enemy. Once you fire a projectile weapon in space there's no way to change it's direction mid flight, making the Knight 5 perfect for such encounters. But if they could have sent a satellite into orbit around our planet without detection, then we might be looking at a far more advanced race, beyond the use of such simple weapons. We'd be like lambs to the slaughter.
`` Holy shit, look at the size of that thing!'' Bill exclaimed as he pressed his face up against the glass. The alien spacecraft was easily 5 times the size of the Knight 5, which is already 250m long. It's exterior hull shimmered in and out of view, with parts of it being a dull, metallic green/grey color and the other parts of it were as black as the sky behind it, with a speckling of dots of varying brightness to help it blend in and avoid visible detection. `` It looks like it has some sort of visual cloaking, it's either malfunctioning or it's power systems might be damaged.''
*beep* `` MC, you getting a visual of this? This thing is massive!'' said Jeb. *beep*
*beep* `` We're receiving visual on this end. This thing is a lot bigger than we thought.'' *beep*
*beep* `` MC, this is Bob, requesting permission to send out the boarding party.'' *beep* Jeb almost forgot Bob was there. He'd been confined to the cockpit with Bill while Bob was gearing up for EVA. Someone had to go out there and say hi, and Bob was either crazy or stupid enough to do it. Maybe both.
*beep* `` MC to Bob, you are go for boarding. Make sure you've calibrated your HUD, we do n't want you to accidentally fly off course.'' *beep*
As silent as a ghost, Bob opened the air lock and slowly drifted towards the ship. Jeb and Bill could n't see him from the cockpit, but they had a video feed on one of the monitors, just like the rest of the world. As the world traveled ever closer to the alien ship, they collectively reached out their hands and grasped the hull. A bright flash engulfed Bob and once the world had rubbed their eyes and the spots faded, Bob was gone. All of humanity invested their money, their hopes and their lives in this mission and all they got out of it was a cheap magic trick. There it is, and now it's gone. How did it happen?
Chaos ensued. Jeb and Bill could hear the screams of all 9 billion people on the planet below all the way out in high Earth orbit, and through the vacuum of space. Screams that could shatter bones and liquify organs. Screams that consisted of pure hatred and pure sadness, all combined into a simple whisper on the cosmic scale of things. But through the noise a voice could be heard.
*beep* `` This is Bob to MC, I'm alright. It appears I've been transported into the ship itself, is the video feed still up?'' *beep*
*beep* `` Holy shit, you're alive?! Oh my god.... No, we do n't have visual but keep us updated on everything you see.'' *beep*
*beep* `` Roger that, I managed to get my torch on, it's a little dark in here... nevermind, something turned on the lights.... I can see one of them approaching, about 1.5m in height, bipedal with two upper limbs like arms, it's getting closer.... oh my god.....'' *beep*
*beep* `` Bob, what do you see god damn it!?'' *beep*
*beep* `` It's... Human.'' *beep*
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[ WP ] A lone wolf goes to the Prom .
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It's not that I did n't like girls or the fact that I never talked to any. I just did n't see the need to. I knew I was popular among them, being the captain of the basketball team but none of them asked me - it was that simple. I shrugged my shoulders as I got dressed for prom and shrugged again two hours later as I sat down at a random table.
The school had reserved a magnificent ballroom at the Four Seasons, a miniature orchestra playing a selection of waltzes in between the DJs selection of pop songs that everyone seemed to enjoy.
The singer on the stage was singing a bit of Sinatra as his voice flowed through the auditorium. I gave a soft smile as I heard some rustling behind me. I turned around and saw Miriam Green, a smaller soft-spoken girl who was quite intelligent. She was a good foot shorter than me as she began to speak, her eyes avoiding mine.
`` Um... Chris... I was wondering,'' her voice was shaky, `` If you would... if I can...'' She began to fidget as she squirmed. She looked like she had come alone, her dress almost simple compared to the many others around her.
Several eyes turned to stare at the quiet girl who had asked the star of the school to a dance. I knew that there were countless girls prettier than her, dozens who were taller, dozens who were smarter. And I could've danced with any of them.
*But they never asked. *
I offered my hand out to her and gave her a gentle smile.
`` Miriam, I would be honored if you danced with me.''
Her face lit up as she gave me an eager nod. The two of us stepped onto the dance floor as even more eyes turned to us. Ignoring the murmurs, I placed my hand on Miriam's waist and held out the other. As she grasped my hand, I took several rhythmic steps, slow enough for her to follow and match the song.
*I've tried so to forget, at times I do, and yet... *
As Sinatra's *The Things We Did Last Summer* droned in the background, I gave Mirama a twirl. She looked surprised when she spun around, but quickly readjusted herself afterwards, a bright smile on her face.
*The memory of you lingers like our song. *
I lowered her closer to the ground and brought her back up. Tho two of us danced slowly, our faces close to each other as the song approached its finale.
*The things we did last summer, I'll remember all winter long. *
The song ended and everyone began to clap towards the stage. Miriam and I applauded as well before the two of us looked at each other. She was blushing, red from the fact that she had danced with me. To be honest, it must have taken her a lot of courage to ask.
`` Hey Miriam,'' I held out my hand to her again, `` You want to grab something to eat?''
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/r/AvuKamu
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[ WP ] While out for your evening run the FM app on your phone picks up a noir detective serial where two speakers are coordinating a tail on a suspect . The longer you listen , the more you start to feel like you 're the one they 're tailing .
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When you run as often as I do you tend to get bored with streaming the same old music every night, so occasionally I like to use my phone ’ s radio app for a change of pace. I set the app to scan and was basically channel surfing as I ran. If I liked whatever was on a particular station I ’ d pause the scan for a while, then when I got bored I ’ d start the scan again.
Which is how I came across the detective serial, or at least that ’ s what it sounded like. I ’ d already been running for almost an hour so I was a little startled when the serial came on partly because I hadn ’ t heard it during the previous scans, and partly because I suddenly had three people having a conversation in my ear. As soon as I realized it was a detective serial I paused the scan and started listening in. I love detective stories and have one of the largest private collections in the country. I ’ ve also read every book in my collection, so I was curious as to which story the actors were reading from.
The characters were apparently tailing someone, and they were concerned because their target had gone out for a run, and they weren ’ t prepared for how fast the target could run, or for how long. One of the men made me laugh when, panting, he said “ Shouldn ’ t a bookworm be a couch potato? ” I liked the way the actors made it sound like they were actually running themselves, and were out of breath trying to keep up with their target. It was odd though because this did not sound like a scene from any detective book I knew. Could it be a new book? One not yet in my collection?
Then the characters were apparently having so much trouble keeping up that they split up and were trying to cover the target in shifts. They began mentioning where the target was, and my curiosity was really aroused when they began mentioning local landmarks. Was this the work of a local writer, someone new to the detective genre? If so, I knew I had to get hold of a first edition copy, signed by the author of course, for my collection.
When one of the actors said the target had just left the park and was passing Perk Me Up, a local coffee shop, I laughed, because *I ’ d* just left the park and was *also* running past Perk Me Up. What a funny coincidence, I thought. When I turned onto 5th Avenue, and they mentioned the target turning onto 5th, it was less a funny coincidence and more a WTF?! moment. And when I turned back into the park, and a second later heard “ the target has re-entered the park ”, a chill ran down my spine.
Then a fourth, new voice spoke up, and asked for a sit rep and an ETA. One of the first three voices reported that the target was in the park with an ETA of 7 minutes. **I** was in the park, and at my current pace I knew I ’ d be home in 7 minutes. I **was** the target! Someone was following me, but why? What did they want with me?
The fourth voice spoke up again. “ Copy. We ’ ll be done here in 5. Are tee bee. ”
Done here? Where was ‘ here ’? My home? Was someone in my home? I had 5 minutes to get home! I have run 5-minute miles before, but not after running eight miles. I knew I had to try anyway. My already tired muscles complained as I increased my pace and I knew I was going to be very sore tomorrow, but I needed to get home as quickly as I could.
I reached up and tapped my headset ’ s button, and the robotic voice piped up: *Say a command. *
“ Call nine one one, ” I said, panting.
*I didn ’ t catch that*, said the robot voice. *Say a command. *
“ Call. Nine. One. One. ”
*Calling... Noni Wan*, the robot said.
“ What? No! ” As the ring started in my ear I reached up and tapped the button to cut off the call, then tapped it again.
*Say a command. Hello. You have an incoming call, from... Noni Wan. *
I tapped the button and heard Noni ’ s voice. “ Hey, Peter. Did you just call me? Hey, are you alright? ”
“ Yeah! Sorry, Noni! Butt dial. Sorry! Can ’ t talk. Running... at the moment. ”
“ You go, slugger! ” Noni said cheerfully, before hanging up.
I tapped the button again. *Say a command*
I took a deep breath, stopped running for a second, and said as deliberately as I could, “ Call. Nine. One. One. ”
*Calling... emergency services. *
I started running again. If I could keep up the pace I was maybe 3 minutes from home. The phone rang, then the call went through. “ Hello! ” I yelled. “ I ’ d like to report a break-in! ”
*Thank you for calling Nine One One. Your call is important to us, so please stay on the line, and your call will be answered in the order it was received. You are caller number... ten... and your estimated wait time is... three... minutes. *
And then the muzak started.
“ Are you fucking kidding me?! ” I yelled, causing the old lady walking towards me to look up, startled. She shook her fist at me as I ran past her.
As I ran around the last corner onto my street a large, green, canvas-covered truck halfway down the block pulled out from the curb and started to drive away. There was someone sitting in the back and they looked at me, looked away, then did a double-take to look back at me again. They looked down at their wrist, then back up at me, and just before the truck turned the corner it looked like they were shaking their head at me in awe, as if they knew me, as if they knew just how fast I ’ d been running. I ran up the steps to my front door, punched in my keycode and the lock clicked open. I ran inside and looked around. My house was neat and tidy, just like I ’ d left it. Or was it?
The muzak stopped. “ Hello. Nine one one. What ’ s your emergency? ”
I looked around. “ Um... I ’ m... I ’ m not sure. ”
“ Sir? Do you require assistance? ”
I saw my study door was slightly ajar. I walked down the hall, pushed open the study door, and looked inside. “ Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. NO!!! ”
“ Sir, do you require assistance? ”
I looked at the empty bookshelves where my collection of detective stories used to be, and a steely resolve came over me. “ Yes, yes I do, ” I said. “ I ’ d like to report a break-in and robbery at 2213 Elm Street. ” I gave out a mirthless laugh. “ Please send a detective over immediately. ”
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[ WP ] You are a werekitty . When you lose control of your emotions , or the moon is full you transform into a tiny , cute , playful , declawed kitten and it is ruining your life .
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`` And so I say to her,'If you did n't want me to, then why'd you take me to the *movies*?''' The three boys started laughing. I sat there, my blood boiling. They clapped him on the back. `` Dude, here she comes now!''
The poor girl walked into the cafeteria. She always looked a little quiet, but now she looked like she wanted to pull her head inside of her chest like a turtle. The boys behind me started to whistle, and one made an obscene charade with his hand. I could feel my teeth sharpening. *No, do n't do this... *
They did n't stop. Her eyes started to tear as she sat alone at the other end of the cafeteria, the three goons jeering at her. People were staring at the boys. My fingernails were starting to recede into my knuckles, my hands were becoming smaller. I wanted to tell those kids to shut up, that he had *forced* her to do it, that she did n't deserve it.
`` Hey, jackass, leave her alone.'' One of the popular girls, a real Miss America, had walked up and was staring him in the face. `` Shut the hell up Cindy,'' said one of the other boys. `` You did it with me and you *looooved* it.'' The boys laughed harder than ever.
The girl's face turned a little red, but she did n't back off. `` I said that so you'd get me that necklace for Christmas. James was better.'' The boys were shocked into dead silence. Hearing my name surprised me so hard that I went fully human all at once.
I turned around. The three guys were still dumbstruck, and Cindy was giving me a weird look. She mouthed out, *Play along with it. * The problem was, there were three of them and one of me. She realized this as soon as the boy she'd apparently used got up and started towards me. `` Let's go, shrimp.'' That set me off.
My features became more feline, my hands and feet turned into paws. A tail shot out of my back, and my fingernails disappeared. I was a tiny, pretty cute kitten. And I was *pissed. *
-- --
`` Alright, Chad, one last time.''
`` He bit me on the leg, and then hid in the air vent.''
The principal chewed on the end of his pencil, thinking hard. Chad's parents were upset, but they were unsure of how to take care of the situation. Their boy and his two friends all told the same story -- a kid shapeshifted into a cat, and mauled their kids.
What the principal thought was more likely, however, was they had used some of the LSD they'd had on their person when they went to the nurse.
`` Alright, Chad, thanks for your time. You can leave.''
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[ WP ] The Evil Overlord has come to the Heroes to ask for help ... in taking back his castle from the Princess .
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It was the knock at the door that I had never expected, nervously I answered holding my sword high and I was glad I did when I saw who the knocker was. Standing before me, eight feet tall, covered in devilish armor and spikes with thick yellow fangs was Lord Death Man, scourge of the land and mightiest of all my darkest enemies.
“ H-help me, ” he cried, tears running down his cheeks and dropping along his armor, from his red eyes I could tell he had been crying for a while, an hour at the least by my own reckoning, “ She ’ s crazy! ”
Needless to say I was taken aback by this sudden appearance of the sulking villain, I stayed my blade sensing a trick and asked tentatively, “ Who is? ”
“ Princess Flowers, ” he blurted through spit, “ She ’ s taken it… ”
“ Taken what man? ” I said defiantly, “ Speak true, why are you crying? ”
“ My castle, ” he moaned stomping past me and into my home, “ She ’ s taken my castle and…and…I just want it back. ”
“ Let me get this straight, ” I started, closing the door and following the evil overlord to my couch, “ The petite Princess Flowers…most beautiful and honest lass of the land…has overthrown you? ”
He nodded finally breaking into a fury of tears, I handed him my tissue box and continued, “ You want my help getting it back? ”
“ Yeah, ” he moaned loudly, “ You ’ re the hero, you got ta h-help me. ”
“ No I do not! ” I exclaimed, “ You ’ re the bad guy! ”
“ She ’ s worse, ” he retorted pettily, “ She has all my minions on her side, they could vanquish the land together. ”
“ But she ’ s the most harmless woman I ’ ve ever met? ” I replied, “ She ’ d never hurt anyone, I once stayed by her side for a week because she had accidentally killed a fly with her books. ”
The overlord didn ’ t reply to that one, and despite my nerves and prejudices, I felt some sympathy for the beast. My instinct was telling me he was truthful, something was certainly upsetting him, but to blame that poor princess for it…that ’ s what boggled my mind?
“ Alright, ” I said finally after some moments of internal thought, “ I ’ ll go see what the situation is, you stay here and keep calm, I ’ ll go and have a word with Princess Flowers. ”
“ Oh thank you! ” he grovelled furthering the loss of his dignity, “ Just get her to leave. ”
So, with my guts, my armour and my faithful pet sword I set out on the actually quite short journey to the Castle of Horror where all of this discrepancy was happening.
“ Hello! ” I called up to the gates once I had arrived, only a matter of ten minutes later, “ Princess Flowers? ”
“ Mwahahahahahaaaa, ” the princess appeared at the window above the gates and revealed the black latex gown she now donned, something I thought was a bit out of fashion for her myself, “ Hello mortal. ”
“ How ’ s it going? ”
“ Wonderfully, ” she grinned, “ I ’ ll soon be queen of evil. ”
“ Oh right, ” I scratched my head in bewilderment, “ Well…umm…did you take this castle from Lord Death Man? ”
“ Yesss, ” she hissed.
“ That ’ s wasn ’ t very nice was it? ” I condemned her actions, “ You should give it back, he ’ s very upset and if we ’ re being honest I ’ m actually really uncomfortable with this whole situation I ’ ve never seen a man of such size cry so babyishly. ”
“ Was he crying? ”
“ Blubbering, ” I corrected with a half laugh, “ He ’ s pretty broken up about it. ”
“ Oh, ” she said in disbelief, “ Doesn ’ t he want to storm the castle and take it back? ”
“ Right now, ” I replied calling up to her, “ He just wants to sob into his Kleenex. ”
“ Oh bugger, ” she said, “ I thought he ’ d raise an army. ”
“ You ’ ve got all his minions? ” I said, “ What army could he raise? ”
“ That ’ s a good point, he ’ s not exactly charismatic is he? ”
“ What ’ s this all about? ” I suddenly enquired, “ Why are you doing this and why are you wearing that Princess? ”
“ He said I was soft! ” she replied, I could hear the offense in her voice, “ He said I couldn ’ t possibly do anything evil. ”
“ Well you proved him wrong didn ’ t you, ” I said, “ Now you ’ ve gone and hurt his feelings. ”
“ I didn ’ t mean to, is he okay? ”
“ No, he isn ’ t, I ’ ve never seen him cry before, ” I shrugged, “ Never thought I would. So why don ’ t you give this up and give him his castle back? ”
“ Yes of course hero, ” the princess stepped down from the window, appearing moments later at the gates. She walked out, all sunshine and smiles, “ Thank you. ”
“ Don ’ t mention it, ” I said, “ I ’ ll walk you to my place, where he lays crying. ”
“ Oh dear, ” she said remorsefully, “ The poor thing, I hope I didn ’ t hurt him too bad. ”
“ Well it is demeaning, ” I said, “ Imagine if he took over being a princess from you, how would you feel? ”
“ Just awful… ”
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[ RF ] Write a letter to your past self .
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Dear self,
you should not have been the one to think that you could take complete advantage of the trip which you chose to go on for the sake of having a good time because you only have one life to live, especially when the people involved are living in a third-world country and are looking at you through the purest of eyes in an effort to feed your princess ego. You should have thought about these things earlier, but being that you are looking through the glass of your very own self in the way of an innocent child, one can not complain that your were indeed experiencing whatever God had given you to go through in those moments of your mistakes. You knew if you had chosen the latter you would have fallen madly, deeply in love with someone who was possibly the right fit for you, but instead you chose to shame yourself through the gift-giving of a premature whore. Materialistically speaking, capitalistically speaking, you were right. He was a big spender with a big mouth, and you were a sucker for fools to use. What would the potential true partner of puzzling fits had done if you had chosen to share his bedroom with himself, rather than with his rival, unwealthier friend who you felt so sorry for? How would have the breastmilk embraced his love for the land and cherished you all in the same when your footsteps' timing was scorched by Scorpio's demise? Whether or not you want to believe that time can be taken back, you now have to deal with the regret and the fear of not being able to hold your sober version of reality's shoulders, and your stability has weakened due to your masochistic, everlasting destiny. Pray to God that you shall meet the vapours of humiliation once more and that your mature self's footsteps will lead to a level which relates to your mind's being. Anemic weakness, let go of his threshold and allow those clouds to rest if need be. If not, chase after forgiveness and hope that the chosen tuner will capture the offer of your heart's protection. Rain, allow the water to extinguish the desperate pleas of earth's vengeance. Make sure this disaster ends in plain, peaceful sight without the fresh fears of my brothers and sisters open to flight. Fields to fold, I hold my hand out for you to hold. Take it take flight and leave me if you might it is only that which I deserve for what I must have done to you. Please forgive innocent desperation, have mercy for the young and selfish as we grow into strong periphery, foreseeing that which can only genuinely be nurtured.
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[ WP ] A group of people get trapped in an elevator . One of them is not human . This becomes more obvious as time passes .
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With a cheery electronic beep, the elevator opened its doors. Liz stepped into it, her reflection staring back at her from the mirrors lining the walls of the elevator car. A young intern with his arms full of papers hurried inside behind her, along with a tall gentleman in a dark suit.
She turned and thumbed the button to close the elevator doors. Just as they were about to meet, a hand stuck itself through the gap to stop them. The doors paused, as if unsure how to handle this dilemma, then slowly reopened to reveal another woman standing there. Like Liz, she was wearing a stylish business suit, although hers was grey instead of blue and had trousers instead of a long skirt.
'Sorry about that, Sarah,' said Liz apologetically, moving over to allow her supervisor to step into the elevator.'I did n't see you there.'
'Not to worry,' said Sarah, her attention mostly focused on her smartphone as she pressed the button for her desired floor with a knuckle. The doors whirred closed again and the elevator jolted into motion.
Liz stared at the brushed metal of the doors in front of her, not daring to make eye contact with her supervisor. They maintained a somewhat frosty relationship with each other in the office, thanks to Liz's rather drunken tirade to some fellow employees at the Christmas party about Sarah's management skills ( and lack thereof ) within earshot of her. Usually, they kept their distance from each other, but fate seemed to have a cruel sense of humor in putting them both in this elevator together.
Suddenly, there was a groaning noise from somewhere above them, followed by a clanking sound. The elevator shuddered and ground to a halt. The single light on the ceiling flickered. They had stopped.
'What the hell was that?' said Sarah, finally looking up from her smartphone.
'I think the elevator's jammed,' said the intern behind her.'Is there an alarm button?'
Liz looked down at the control panel. There was a golden button at the top with an alarm bell painted on it. She pressed it. There was no tone, no voice, no indication that the damn thing worked.
She looked over at the others.'It's not working.'
'Hold on, I'll call for help,' said Sarah, holding up her phone. She typed in a number and held the device to her ear. There was the faint sound of a dialing tone. She frowned after several moments.
'Hello?' she said.'Can you hear me? Hello?' She took the phone away from her ear and glared at it.'I've lost reception. We're in the middle of the city! How can I have lost reception?'
'Maybe the elevator shaft's concrete blocks your signal,' Liz replied.'Look, somebody's got to try the elevator sooner or later, and then they'll realise it's stuck and get us rescued. We just have to sit tight and wait.'
'I've got a conference call with the CEO in ten minutes!' Sarah cried.'I ca n't wait that long!' She looked around the elevator's interior desperately.'There's got to be a way out of here, right? Like an emergency hatch?'
'You wo n't be getting out that way,' said a deep voice. Liz felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It was the tall man who had spoken. He was standing in the corner of the lift, casually examining his nails. Sarah rounded on him, glad to have some valid target for her wrath.
'And what exactly do you mean by that?' she said.
'You will not be leaving this elevator alive,' said the man, still not bothering to make eye contact with any of them. Liz swallowed as she heard his words. They were n't so much a threat as a promise.'As soon as those doors closed, your fate was sealed.'
Sarah looked at him with a mixture of anger and confusion.'Are you saying you want to murder us in here? To pass the time or something?'
'Not exactly,' said the man.'This elevator's cables have all snapped, bar one. It is currently the only thing holding this car aloft. In four minutes, it will snap too, and you will all plummet forty-two stories to your deaths at the bottom of the shaft. There is no way to avoid it.'
Sarah's eyes widened.'You're mad,' she said.'Even if that was true, how could you possibly know?'
'I know,' said the man, finally looking up at them so they could see his eyes,'because it's my job.'
Liz stifled a scream. The man's eyes were entirely black, like two holes bored into his head. They seemed to emanate a distinct menace in the confined space of the elevator. She gasped as she finally understood.
'Y-you're Death, are n't you?' she stammered.'The Grim Reaper.'
The man nodded.'And the only reason I've come early is to let you resolve your issues with each other before your fates claim you.'
'Our issues?' said Sarah.'I do n't even know that guy.' She gestured to the intern.
'Mr Derek's issue is not with you, but with Ms Elizabeth here,' said Death calmly.'To put it bluntly, he has been infatuated with you since the day he first saw you here.'
Liz looked at the intern.'Really?' Derek nodded in embarrassment, staring at the floor. She stared at the top of his head for a long moment, then smiled.'Well, that's convenient. I sort of have a thing for you too.'
Derek's head jerked up in surprise and he opened his mouth, but Sarah interrupted loudly before he could reply.'So what's the issue with me and Liz? The whole thing of her not understanding how hard my job is and then gossiping to the entire bloody office about it?'
'Hey, I was drunk!' said Liz angrily.'I did n't know what I was saying!'
'But you did mean it, did n't you?' said Sarah, jabbing a finger at her.'I heard what you said. `` *Sarah could n't manage a lemonade stand, never mind an office of thirty people! *'' I heard it, and I know you meant it.'
There was a pause. Then Liz spoke again, more quietly.
'Ok, I meant it. And I still think it's true. You spend so much time reporting to the higher ups and never actually doing any proper supervising with the people you're meant to be working with. I've never even seen you come up to my desk while I was working!'
Sarah bit her lip.'I suppose...' she mumbled.'I suppose you're right. I've been under a lot of pressure lately to try and get promoted. I was... actually considering you to replace me as supervisor, before the Christmas fiasco. Then what you said really hurt me and I was angry at you for it. I'm sorry.'
Liz sighed, then moved forward and hugged Sarah. They embraced for several seconds, Sarah's sniffling sounding loud in the tiny elevator. Then, abruptly, there was a twanging noise from above and the elevator creaked.
'This is it,' said Liz, releasing Sarah and stepping back. She looked to Derek.'Well, might as well go out on a high note.' She pulled him forward, the papers in his hand scattering across the floor, and kissed him full on the lips. He did n't react for a split second, then relaxed and did likewise. They wrapped their arms tightly around one another.
Sarah watched them, then glanced over at Death.'I do n't suppose you'd care to...?'
'Perhaps another time.'
'Oh.'
The elevator suddenly dropped with an ear-splitting screech of metal. Everything shook and they were suddenly in freefall, the papers floating up around them. Derek and Liz held onto each other, while Sarah braced herself in the corner. Death, however, merely stood in the centre of the elevator, seemingly unaffected by the fall.
He made a strange gesture with his hand and a long scythe flashed into being from thin air. With a single movement, he whirled it around his head and brought it down as the elevator hit the ground at around thirty miles per hour. Everything went black as the light went out.
When emergency crews finally managed to prize open the elevator's remains, there were the bodies of three people, two apparently still wrapped in tight embrace.
The dark stranger on the CCTV footage was never found.
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[ WP ] Humanity genetically engineered A race of heros . They 're moral , brave and selfless . Humanity went to war with them shortly after they were created . You have the chance to win the war for humanity .
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They were our brightest stars, everything we wanted to be but could n't. Clever, quick, strong, moral, and beautiful. But when we had created them and looked upon them humanity, as a whole, recoiled. We saw ourselves in stark contrast with their perfection. All our faults were highlighted. We could n't stand it, and so we tried to cast them down, but they were clever enough to anticipate our betrayal. All we accomplish with our'surprise' attack was to alert them formally to our intentions and begin the war. Since then we've been losing. Every attack we launched was against a trap they'd prepared, and every defense we mounted was insufficient to do more than slow them. We did, however, have one massive advantage: infrastructure. We had been paranoid and warlike since the beginning, so finalizing the space station's armament was n't difficult. Now the weapon is ready to be unleashed. Enough bombs to scour them off the face of the Earth. All that remains is for me to enter the authorization code and drop them.
I enter the code slowly, making sure to get every digit correct, then I pause while I listen to the bulkheads unlocking. I look at the final button. Dropping these bombs will win us the war, and ravage our world. Many humans that have survived so far will die in the ensuing famine, and I doubt I'll ever get off this station no matter what happens. I smile. Really, they deserve to win. They're better than us in every way, we made sure of that, but I'm not about to let my little girl die for them. Not for anyone. If the world has to burn for her to live, then let it burn. I quietly apologize, and initiate the sequence.
Nothing happens. I blink and check the readouts, they look right, but none of the weapons have been dropped. I enter a few commands to check, but everything is as expected. Dammit, of all the times for someone to fuck it up, now? It does n't matter, I have all the time in the world to track down the error and... That is n't right. That log. I read it, and the strength leaves my body. Some bombs did drop. Enough to destroy every remaining human stronghold on Earth. The other weapons have been armed, but the releasing mechanisms have been fried.
I scream.
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[ WP ] A version of you from the future suddenly appears . He/She has come back to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life .
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`` Do n't do it.''
`` Woah, nice beard. Parallel dimension or...''
`` Time travel. You remember how you used to drink all those energy drinks with a little extra powder to go with it? You only need one more ingredient.''
`` Hmmm. Good to know. What happens to reddit? I was just about to-''
`` Turn off your computer.''
`` What?''
`` Right now, turn it off. Walk, and I say walk, downtown to the Promenade Day sales. I ca n't tell you any more.''
`` So I should n't make an account?''
`` No, it will be fun for a while, but it wo n't make you happy. Not like her. Now *go. *''
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[ WP ] A geneticist is working with a DNA sample . He finds a sequence in the genome that when uploaded to a computer says , `` readme.txt ''
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,,*Thats it,... enough is enough DAVE*''
Robert stood up, he was angry, realy angry. He was one step short from a big thing, he just decrypted an very important genome, the very last genome. Uploaded the data to his pc, and instead of the Data, he wanted to feed into his algorithm, he had a simple `` readme.txt''.
,,*DAVE! Where are you? This is not funny! *''
Robert rushed trough the lab, to find Dave sleeping with his face on the keyboard. Robert slammed his hands on the desk, which let Dave wake up instantly.
,,*Jesus, Robert, tune down a bit*'' Dave stretched himself a bit.
,,*Do you think this is funny Dave?'readme.txt'? I did n't work the whole night for a god damn joke! Where is my Data? *''
Dave seemed pretty confused,,,*Hold your horses man.... i did n't touch your stuff, i know you ca n't stand it... also i have been working on'Project Zap' the whole night, you can ask Doc Rachel. *''
Robert slowly regained his temper.,,*You were the only one around, when i went to grab the Pizza. Or do you want to tell me, someone beside you was able to temper with my Data? *''
Dave looked up to Robert,,,*Look, yes i pranked you, but i did not tamper with your date, never would Rob, i just put decaf coffee in your mug to check if you would notice. *''
Robert temper rose again.,,*Dave I.... Move it! Get over here. *'' he turned around on his heels and went over to his PC,,,*Here*'', he clicked the readme file, he was sure Dave had left a signature in his little prank.
Dave stood up,''*damn, Rob is angry*'' he thought to himself, before saying out loud,,,*Chill down scorpion*'' Dave threw himself on the chair beside Robert, before turning the chair around and giving the readme file a look.,,*Oh you pranked me... did n't you? *'' Dave asked, unbelieving.
The readme.txt file read:
, *, Hello, now is the time. As your species has managed to decode the last genome, you are ready for phase 2, of your project cycle, we will contact you soon, stay calm. Hey Robert, tell Phillip he need to turn off PVP. Also while he is at it, he can edit this out of the final message. - Zach*''
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[ WP ] The year is 2420 and memes are now an illegal controlled substance . Everywhere you look there are law enforcement officers with badges that says `` Meme guard '' . Your job is a Black market meme dealer . |
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A tall man wearing a long coat stares determinedly as he launches himself through a door labeled `` Boiler Room'' he slaps a folded enveloped binded with wax on the table, staring motionless at the scared teenager stood in front of him.
`` H-ello..'' the scared teen mumbles, his hands clasped on the table. `` How much? Can I look at the product before i p-''
`` Money up front, ill stay here while you examine it'' The man in the long coat barks.
The kid fumbles in his pockets and pulls out four crumpled notes, he counts them one by one and places the disgruntled balls of money on the table. Down the hall behind the doorway a thump is heard.
`` Alright thats all of it'' He says as the man collects the money and thrusts it in his coat pocket. the moment his hand exits his pocket there is a slight glimmer as he raises a sharpened blade.
The kid raises his hands and stands up from his chair while backing away.
`` Hey.. woah.. we're cool man, ill just go, aint nobody got ta get stabbed over a meme..'' The man moves the knife closer to the table, staring straight at the kid, he clips the knife under the wax and flips open the envelope. He slides the envelope over to the other side of the table and slides the letter opener back in his pocket.
After releasing a large sigh of relief the kid moves forward and pulls a piece of a4 laminate out of the envelope, he holds it at arms length and examines it.
`` This... this is a repost..'' his eyes widen, it suddenly dawns on him who he just said that to.
The dealer shuffles in his position, folding his arms as he stares at the kid in silence for a few seconds.
`` But its good product, look at that superimposed text, thats the highest resolution you will find in this city.''
The kid stares at the meme `` Alright i'll take i-''
The boiler door flings open, the dealer uses almost cat like reflexes and leaps out of the way of the doorway, three pin point flashlights aim directly at the teenager who is frozen in fear with the meme still in his hand. The dealer freezes, perched behind a large rusty pipe that is barely large enough to conceal him, he examines his options, his concentration is interrupted by the sound of a gun cocking. The kid is still stood there, frozen in place staring wide eyed at the doorway and when he finally moves he tries to put his hands up, very slowly.
Gunfire erupts, the dealer swivels to see the kid get mowed down by red tracer bullets, he slumps to the ground and the dealer lurches, heading for the back doorway, the meme police have little time to react and all take defensive positions.
`` IT DOES N'T HAVE TO BE LIKE THIS'' the dealer bellows, stood on a wall using the door as cover.
`` WE CAN ALL WALK AWAY FROM THIS'' A clanking sound is heard as a small smoke grenade is tossed through the doorway, the dealer runs for the hall but he knows its a dead end, the only way out of this building is through the front, the rest of it is underground and he needs to take the stairs to get up to surface level. He stands in the center of the hallway and raises his hands, backs to the police.
`` BEHIND YOUR HEAD, GET ON YOUR KNEES'' one of the cops shouts.
The dealer cooperates, dropping to his knees and placing his hands on the back of his head. Two of them approach behind him, both wearing full body kevlar suits that only have spaces between the leg, neck, knee and ankle. The other two aim steadily behind them at the first doorway.
`` Got any weapons?''
`` Just a letter opener, its pretty sharp though.'' He chuckles slightly, forgetting for a moment where he actually is.
`` Where is it?''
`` In my coat pocket, left side...''
While the cop bends down to reach into his pocket he flicks the knife from beneath his sleeve and leans forward, slipping the letter opener into the idle cops throat, the other cop panics and starts firing wildly, he kneels below him and stabs him in the kneecap between his protective armour. By this point the other two have caught on and start shooting at the dealer who is already leaping for the exit, they follow him with their gun fire but their reflexes simply are not fast enough to keep up with him, they should probably hire better trained cops in this city he thinks.
He quickly reaches the doorway when a bullet clips him in the leg, he trips, hitting the floor face first.
The next thing he hears is muffled laughing `` This guy is gon na get it when the minister finds out he killed two men'' he blacks out.
He is awoken by a female voice `` So you play baseball?'' he slowly opens his eyes but is only greeted with an incredibly bright white light, he closes them again. `` Tell me more about how you're a world champion.'' The unfamiliar woman says each word individually, extenuating each syllable. `` Thats funny.'' She says while placing the meme on the table. `` where did you get it?'' He finally opens his eyes, and adjusts them to the light. `` Ah!'' he says with great enthusiasm. `` You must be the Minister! I hear you're quite the charmer!'' She punches him in the jaw with a cybernetic hand and leans forward. Grinning madly.
`` Phew, nice hit, I mean sorry I should be giving that fake arm credit, good job, robot!''
She smiles again `` You are going to die a very long and agonising death if you do not tell me where you got these illegal memes.''
`` Whatcha gon na do? ai n't' nothin' gon na make me talk honey.''
She grins again `` I was thinking maybe this time ill do something with his intestines'' She says with a finger on her ear. `` Yeah well I want a couple of scalpels in here and get me some muriatic acid, a measuring beaker, three large syringes and a glass of Whiskey, no ice, I wont be drinking it.''
The dealer is now starting to worry for his life, as his eyes start to adjust he can make out the room around him, black walls with a matte hexagon pattern and a table with a small surgical tray in the corner. The blood soaked meme from the boiler room is lay next to it. The Minister is stood still looking at him on the bed, playing with her hair and smiling. A bland man in a black suit walks in the room expressionless, and hands The Minister a tray full of surgical tools and other stuff.
`` Thank you lionel, now go back to your quarters, you can rest for four minutes then I want you back here helping me transport this guys kidneys to the organ room.''
Time was running out, his prospects did not look good, tied down by leather straps, there was n't much he could do at this point, he accepted his fate. Even if he told her about his boss, he was still gon na die, ai n't no way the ministry is letting a pathetic little meme dealer like him back on the streets, he opts for the resistant attitude and spits in the direction of the minister.
`` Cute'' she winces `` I can use that DNA in your saliva to create a mutant rat creature out of the little left of your DNA, sorry for the wait, ill be right over in a moment to begin.''
`` I ai n't' talkin' miss, so you can just kill me now''
She laughs `` Thats good! thats a good one! you know I'm starting to like you, maybe i'll hang you above my fire''
`` Jeez lady you are dark, which one of your parents taught you that extremely sexy trait.'' He laughs, she doesnt.
`` I'll be showing you more of my traits in the next five minutes, just sit tight.''
`` I ca n't really... do anything else can i? I mean its not like I could run away from here''
She enthusiastically clicks her finger and thumb and jolts her view directly at him `` THATS RIGHT!'' she smiles and carries on preparing her tools.
`` Alright, which one first? muriatic acid in the veins or spleen extraction?''
He tries to remain cool, act like hes not scared, I wo n't give her the satisfaction he thinks as that sentence races through his head. `` Ouch, I guess ill go with spleen extraction, never seen a spleen before!'' his voice shakes.
`` I have, they're pretty, I have four in freezer at home, they look like giant red lima beans!''
the grin quickly fades from her face as she steadies the scalpel near the center of his breast, she presses down hard and runs it down his chest. `` Naw that aint gon na be deep enough, there is still a thin film of skin left before we can get at your ribcage!''
The dealer is screaming in pain, straining inside the restraints, every vein on his body erupting him his skin.
`` D...'' he tries to force it out, its hard, there is a huge hole in his chest.
`` Alright alright jeez ill do it quit your whining.'' she says with a grin before leaning down again and cutting the rest of the skin.
`` Hnggg!'' he winces in pain again, forcing out heavy breaths, the sweat is making his back stick to the plastic sheet.
He uses his uncontrollable screams to his advantage, and tries to force out syllables.
`` D- D... DANK.... MEEEEEEEEMMEEESSSS'' and then black, infinite, never ending blackness.
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[ WP ] You step through a doorway , and find yourself in a Labyrinth . It soon becomes evident that this is no mundane maze ...
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`` God damn fucking wardrobe'' I muttered, wandering aimlessly through the seemingly infinite maze of corridors. There were doors spaced out every few dozen feet but I'd learned a long time ago that they were all locked and, despite my best efforts, I could n't kick them down.
I kept walking, taking this time to just start daydreaming while I walked, figuring I had nothing better to do. As I rounded another corner, I blinked, staring blankly at the rather odd sight in front of me.
`` Uhh...'' Was my ever so intelligent response at the sight before me. A Sphinx, sitting in front of a chessboard with a face as bored as mine must have been a few moments before, its tail swishing lazily.
`` You gon na play me, or are you gon na just wander back off into the maze to die?'' It asked me.
`` Well, when you put it like that... I'm weighing my options...'' I said dryly, giving the moving human/lion thing a deadpan stare. It snorted in humor.
Figuring i had nothing to lose, I moved over and sat down in front of the white side, before moving the pawn in front of the king forward. The Sphix copied my move. I then moved my queen to the far right corner, having moved diagonally. The Sphinx moved one of her knights out and I moved a bishop to be two squares in front of it laterally. It moved the other knight to be in position to take my queen.
I lazily moved my queen to take the pawn in front of her king side bishop.
`` Check mate'' I said, lazily leaning back. The Sphinx looked at the board dumbfounded. `` So, what's my prize?'' I asked as the Sphinx moped. It handed me a key and then wandered off, muttering under its breath about pale, no-life nerds.
I pointedly ignored it and stared at the key in my hand. `` So, this goes to one of the many... many... doors to this maze... Fan-fucking-tastic.'' I muttered, before moving off down a hallway and trying to open the closest door. Miraculously, it unlocked. I quickly pushed it open, only to find a woman changing. I blushed slightly, unabashedly taking in the view.
Right up to the point where she screamed and nailed me in the head with a shoe.
I slammed the door shut and then, for curiosities sake, opened it again.
I got another shoe for my trouble.
`` Fuck me...'' I sighed, rubbing the knots forming on my head.
I moved to another door, opened it, and found a bunch of monkeys on typewriters. I stared at the hilarious scene before me, before shutting the door to avoid getting beaned in the head with a poo-grenade. `` Moving on then.'' I said with an upbeat note that I in no way felt.
I skipped the next few doors, and opened the third. Inside, I found a shittily drawn cartoon version of myself.
`` Sup' bitch.'' It said. I waved. `` Hey uhh... You would n't happen to know how to get out of here, would ya?'' I asked it.
It shook its head. `` Nah man, no idea. If I were you, I'd try and find a door that looks different than all the others.''
`` Why did n't I think of that...'' I muttered.
`` Because you're retarded.''
I gave him a one finger salute and slammed the door. `` Fucking smartass...'' I said, pointedly ignoring the irony in those words.
I walked off down the hallway. Time passed, and eventually I wound up learning how to juggle out of sheer boredom, juggling the key and the two shoes I had been'given'.
Finally, I came across a door that was much, much more ornate than the previous ones. Immediately, I unlocked it and damn near kicked it off its hinges. Inside was not what I was hoping for.
`` **SO! YOU HAVE FOUND MY DOOR, PUNY HUMAN! IF YOU WANT TO ESCAPE THIS MAZE, YOU MUST FIRST DEFEAT ME IN ARMED COMBAT! **''
`` Uhh... Gim me a minute... I need to uhh... Use the bathroom. Yeah, that's it.'' I said, before closing the door gently.
Fighting a Minotaur in physical combat was not on my list of shit to do today.
Back tracing a little ways, I opened door after door, finding all manner of ridiculous shit.
`` WHO THE FUCK TEACHES AN ELEPHANT TO MAN A CATAPULT!'' I roared out as I ran from a flaming boulder, slamming the door back shut.
Finally, I found what I was looking for. Picking it up from off of a bedside table, I slowly crept back into the door I came out of, a closet of some sort.
I made my way back to the Minotaur.
`` Alright, I'm ready.'' I said with nonchalance.
`` **THAT WAS AN INCREDIBLY LONG BATHROOM BREAK**'' The Minotaur said.
`` Yeah well, you know... Burrito's and all that.'' I said lamely.
The Minotaur nodded sagely. `` **INDEED. I TOO KNOW THAT FEEL, PUNY BRO HUMAN**.'' The Minotaur said. `` **SO, LET US BEGIN**!'' He roared, before charging at me.
From the waistband of my pants, I pulled out the revolver I'd stolen from some dudes bedroom. Bringing it up, I took careful, aim at the charging beast and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
Not the good bang, mind you.
`` Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.'' I said, staring at the `` Bang'' flag extending from the barrel of the gun. `` FUCK!'' I roared, throwing the useless thing at the still charging Minotaur and then proceeding to beat feet across the room.
`` WAIT WAIT WAIT, TIME OUT, TIME OUT!'' I cried, trying not to be impaled.
Miraculously, the Minotaur stopped.
`` **WHAT IS IT, PUNY HUMAN**?'' It asked.
`` If we're going to fight, I want it to be on my terms.'' I said shakily.
The Minotaur nodded, motioning for me to continue.
`` Alright... Alright, we're gon na play rock paper scissors. If I win, I get to leave. If you win, you get to kill me.'' I said, grinning on the outside but cringing on the inside.
Betting my life on a game of rock paper scissors... Against an 9 foot tall, rage fueled legendary creature.
I'd better be getting a fucking Darwin Award for this shit...
`` Alright, Rock, Paper, SCISSORS!'' I cried, holding out my hand in the shape of a clenched fist.
His hand was flat as a board. He grinned.
`` Uhh... Best two out of three!'' I said.
`` ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS!''
My rock beat his scissors.
So, it all came down to this. A child's game against a mythical beast inside of a wardrobe in my living room, and my life was riding on it.
`` ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS!''
He held out rock.
I held out scissors. He grinned maliciously.
Right up to the point where I kicked him as hard as I physically could in the balls.
Well I did say it was a child's game.
A new door appeared, and I immediately ran for it, trying my best to ignore the high pitched, rage filled screams of pain coming from behind me.
I dove through the door, right back into my living room. Slamming the wardrobe shut, I sat on the ground for a few seconds, panting, and then for about a half hour longer wondering how much acid I had fucking done.
Wait, I've never done acid...
I dragged the wardrobe outside and proceeded to light it on fire, watching it burn with a blank stare.
`` Wait... That was the only concrete evidence on the planet that could prove that parallel universes exist...'' What, besides a key that had no special properties and two size 6 women's shoes.
`` Well... This is gon na be a fun next 50 years...''
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[ WP ] It 's been nearly 100 years since the last Pyromancer was caught and executed . Pyromancy , the ability to create and control fire , is a dark and forbidden art . You discover you have the ability , and are now being hunted down .
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My first post on here
El Scorcho
I was always afraid of the dark. Afraid that I would become lost and alone in my own darkness but now the dark doesn ’ t seem so bad. I had climbed to the top of the mountain and my life was full of light but that was when I first felt the flames. My life seemed almost perfect in that moment of “ Happy Birthday ” being sung to me by my friends and family. The wish I made as I blew out the candles was to be with her but instead I lost her and it was my fault. The flames spewed out from me and consumed my loved ones. The flames consumed my light.
My reaction was to run to try to get away from their screams that seemed to be burnt into my memory. I should ’ ve stayed put and let them take me for what I did, but I knew of the stories of what they did to the pyromancers from my childhood and I didn ’ t want that to happen to me. I heard the sirens coming towards the fire but it was already too late to save them, the entirety of my apartment complex was covered in fire.
I didn ’ t know what to do or where to go so I stopped in a neighborhood deep in the city and my mind shut down. Everything was gone from my life was gone except for what I had in my car and that was just my gym clothes. I don ’ t know how long I was sitting there but somehow the lack of people took me out of my trance because this was a busy part of the city. It was then I noticed police officers positioning around me in the distance and I was surrounded.
“ Step out of the vehicle with your hands up. ” One of the officers said.
“ Please, just stay away. ”
They repeated for me to get out but this time it was more aggressive and they had their weapons drawn.
Why couldn ’ t they just get away from me? These were just the normal police and they had no idea what I was. “ Just stay away, please. ”
With the car off and my hands in the air they came closer to me. Once they saw that I had nothing visibly dangerous they made their move and took me out of the car. Since I didn ’ t cooperate in the beginning they were being rough but I could feel the fire welling up in me. An officer was about to put the handcuffs on me but I pushed him back.
“ You have to stay away. ” I said. “ You need to get away now. ” I kept pushing them away but they only reacted to my resistance with more force. Before I knew it I was on the ground and several of them were on top of me.
A few of the officers started to hit me while I was on the ground and I felt the front of a boot strike me in the gut. “ Stop, just stop, ” I put my hand out to block the next kick, “ please, leave. ”
The boot hit my hand and the flames ate him. I could feel my face becoming hot as I watched the other officers on top of me screamed from my fire devouring them. I got up and their ashes fell from my body. There were now multiple helicopters flying over me and the rest of the officers told me to stay back. I could hear the fear in their voices.
“ I begged you. Why didn ’ t you just leave? ”
I wasn ’ t moving but their commands were becoming more frantic and then I heard a gunshot. The right side of my body jerked back and I felt a white hot pain. Fire was all around me but that was all I could see. The flames consumed everything that was in my vision.
When the fire was gone, all that was around me before was ash. There were no officers in sight and no helicopters flying overhead. I laid there on the bubbling asphalt and there was blood flowing from my wound. I guess the fire wouldn ’ t burn any part of me. Finally I was alone in the dark. Or so I thought. Someone was standing over me and started to drag me, I wanted to resist but all I could do was close my eyes.
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[ WP ] 50 years ago , you convince a killer not to murder you because you will `` change the world '' . Now , the killer has come back to check your progress..
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Had it been fifty years already? Jim's groggy conjecture was halted as his piercing alarm blared at him.
`` Must of slipped my mind, does *he* even remeber?'' Jim thought aloud as he climbed out of his kingly bed. He stood in his vaulted room looking at himself through the mirror.
`` I still got time.'' Jim said with disregard. `` I did move, so he might not even know where i am anymore, or maybe even ever - he might even be dead!''
Jim tried to reassure himself as he thought back to that fateful night. He had just returned from the local gas station with a lotto ticket and beef jerky in hand. He opened the door to his ramshackle apartment to find a shadowy figure in the corner.
`` Hey! who's there? who are you? I know how to kick!'' Jim said frightened.
`` No need for that.'' The figure said with a slight slither to his tone.
`` what are you doing here?'' Jim demanded
`` You have been sselected.'' The Figure said, `` I was awarded a useless ssoul, and that useless ssoul is you.''
`` Bu- But i'm not useless! It- it may look it because i do n't do anything and i live in filth, bu- but i have an idea..Yeah! an idea that could *change the world*.'' Jim said with trepedation.
`` Well lucky for you, there are stipulations. If what you say is true, then there is no need to tell me... You have 50 years to *show* me. The figure said with a slight disdain.
And just like that, the figure disappeared. Jim looked around to find him but found nothing. Perplexed as to what just happened, Jim looked down to see his ticket still clutched in his hand. He unraveled it and scratched at the play area, what he saw was three 200M, instantly making him a multi-millionair.
50 years had passed and Jim was no closer to changing the world then when he decided he could that dark fateful night.
`` Dangit!'' Jim fumed in his mansion that dust and decay have been encroaching on for years. `` Maybe i could *pay* a scientist to come up with something quickly.'' But reality dashed his conjecture when he realized that he could no longer even afford his house or property, having spent a life time blowing a fortune.
`` How am i suppose to change the world? How did he actually *believe* me?'' Jim had a fleeting sense of regretful dread in his recollections of how he squandered his treasure. `` Why should n't of i bought zoo animals for my backyard? screw going to the zoo! I needed a full scale theater in my house, how am i to watch movies? And that trampoline the size of a football field? that thing is just awesome.''
Jims nerves returned to him as tried to surmise that he would be ok because nothing has happened yet on this anniversary of 50 years ago.
`` I'm just driving myself mad, with the defense and security measures i installed in house - no one will get inside!''
Jim, feeling peckish, decided it was time for breakfast and started to descend down his large, luxurious spiral staircase. Then a queer sense started to unnerve Jim. It had been a clear and sunny morning when he was gazing outside his bedroom chambers, but as he walked ever closer down the spiral steps, there seemed to be an omnious darkness following him, consuming his surroundings. A fleeting sense of terror tripped his feet up and he tumbled all the way down to the main floor. Dazed, Jim looked up from the floor to find a blurry image of a dark silhouette.
`` No, I need more time! Give me more time!'' Jim clamoured as he scooched back from the Figure and slumped himself against the wall.
`` But why? You have done exactly as you ssaid you would do.'' The Figure hissed
`` What in the hell do you mean? What the hell have i done?'' Jim said with confusion.
`` You changed the world, remember?'' The Figure said.
The Figure seemingly glided twards Jim, who now was in a terrified stupor babling, `` more time, more time.''
as the Figure came upon him Jim could do no more but belt out a hideous scream.
It took a week for anyone to check on Jim, When authorities found him he was unnaturally withered and contorted into a hideous fashion. His eyes both gone and his jaw stretched inhumanly as if he screamed to death. The peculiar thing was, upon his autopsy, They found fundamentally queer blood on his returned labs. It seemed, with further research from the local Science University, that Jim's blood held a key to regenative cell growth, that could be replicated indefiantly. The health applications were astounding, it seemed that Jim actually had changed the world.
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[ WP ] A new mars rover passes by an older one . The older one has been gutted for parts .
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`` Honey, no, no, just roll up -- just roll up the windows.'' They took a left. `` It'll be fine honey, we do n't need them anymore this side of town, it's gen-tri-fy-ing,'' they rolled passed an old model RangeRover, up on blocks. Blood on the driver's side. No one noticed. `` Look at that one, it's soooo cute!'' Steve pointed delightedly to a dome which had been modified into a multi-family unit. `` It'll be a great investment property, it'll absolutely be worth 10 times as much by the time we retire,'' he cloyed. `` When I get my promotion and mister Bidermann sees me for the high quality employee that I really am, we'll be able to get imported earth-granite countertops and luna-wood flooring. We wo n't buy any furniture that is n't hand made by real local artisans. Only the best brands, babe.''
There was a high pitched wail over the comms as the pressure in Steve's suit escaped and what had been his brain was reduced to a fine pink spray. `` Steve? Steve?'' Marcy nudged him. Another wail. She slumped unable to breath.
Zarphrok the manhunter lowered his weapon and approached the vehicle. `` FUCKING YUPPIES.''
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[ RF ] Write from the perspective of somebody who can never go outside due to a lifelong health condition .
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It's a really pretty day outside, from what I can tell. There's a squirrel scurrying up and down the tree right outside my window, and a sparrow is busy yelling at him about it. The sky is a deep blue, and the clouds are perfectly fluffy.
It helps that I have this painted on my walls, too. I made a few decals for different weather patterns, and along the carpet there's a painted line of grass. On the ceiling are a thousand and one glow in the dark stars - you know, the kind you had as a kid? But I still love them.
It's the closest I'll get. It took a long, long time to come to terms with that. There was a grief period, for a world I'd never get to really experience. Sure, I can explore the world on my computer, but what I would n't give for feeling the grass beneath my feet. It took many years of therapy and self-reflection to come to terms with it.
So, this room is my way of coping. A pale imitation of the real thing, sure, but it's my real thing.
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[ WP ] Someone who was inspired to follow their dream to become U.S president due to shia labeoufs `` do it '' video
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`` Do n't let your dreams be dreams'' I watched with eager anticipation as Shia Labeouf continued to spew internet gold. `` Yesterday you said tomorrow.'' Holy shit, he's right. So many life goals, activities, events, put off `` until tomorrow.'' So many wasted opportunities. I felt the fleeting touch of motivation well up inside of me then. `` Just DO IT!'' So many possibilities opened in front of me as I listened to an actor desperately trying to stay relevant with a silly video. I could do anything!
I stood up from my chair and looked outside, the sun was shining and I knew that whatever I decided to do in that moment would happen. It was as if a genie has appeared offering me any wish, and all I had to do was ask. My mind reeled with ideas. I could start a business! No, too bland. How about being a professional athlete? Nah, sports were never my thing. I plunged into my memories from childhood. Uncomfortable encounters with dirty mall Santa's and Easter Bunnies came flooding back to me. I never could decide what to ask Santa.
I kept looking back, moving further and further into my past. Suddenly THE memory came roaring back into my mind. First grade. Mrs Reece. `` What do you want to be when you grow up Tommy?'' `` I want to be the President!''
That was it. I looked back at my computer screen for some sort of sign that this was my calling. Shia screamed `` JUST....... DO IT!!'' and smashed his fist into his open palm. He turned to face the camera... No, to face me. Reaching out from the dark regions of the internet he made eye contact with me. He was trying to tell me something. As he flexed and the video went dark I heard something, just a whisper on the wind. `` Just do it.'' I will Shia. I will.
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[ WP ] We have finally cast out the alien Illuminati who controlled all seats of power on Earth . Are we doing better on our own , or do we need them ?
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You know... Hindsight is a bitch. I mean seriously, WHAT were we thinking. We had seen the work of these extraterrestrials, almost since the dawn of time. The goddamn Mayans knew about the benefits of teaming up with a race far more competent than our own. The Egyptians knew. Even Justin Bieber knew it. And we were freaked out because the conspiracy theories were true. OOOOO crop circles WERE aliens. Well most of them. OOOOOO Justin Bieber is a weird looking lizard shape shifter. OOOOO all of the major figures of government ARE aliens.
I mean it was insane. Riots broke out. People flooded streets screaming about the end days. Looting. Major religious groups flocked onto the scene proclaiming they had been right all along, and that God was sending extraterrestrials to bring about the apocalypse and smite us all.
It's funny.
Growing up, even I thought that aliens were probably harbingers of death and destruction because all of the documentaries I watched about them had scary X-Files kind of music, and all of the `` experts'' that they interviewed looked like they perpetually wet themselves without ceasing. And it sucks because times were good before they came out. We had finally reached a place where everyone seemed to be treated like equals. The United States of America seemed to be acknowledging their history of prejudice, and they began working toward fixing those problems with history as a guide for what to to do. Tensions in the middle east finally came to a cease with a universal currency, universal healthcare, and a unity that naturally came with both. There was a brotherly love that was only dreamt of in the mirages that came with smoking weed in the sixties. It was a hippie's heaven. John Lennon, and Bob Marley would have been proud. In fact I think they were aliens too. They did a lot to help us out.
So yeah, I mean if I was an extraterrestrial I would have taken that as a curtain call too. Expecting to receive praise for a job well done in trying to help a foreign race as part of the Interplanetary Development Act ( IDA ) put in place by the spherical table of the universe where representatives from all planets and galaxies came together to sort out the universe's problems. ( Think of the senate chambers in Star Wars. )
But... We were immature. I was immature. We were still afraid of things unknown, and we the very likely reality of there being life in other parts of the Universe evaded our thoughts, and when they finally came out and told us at the inauguration of the first World's President. There was an uproar. A crescendo that I imagine could have been heard on the mothership. ( The moon )
Immediately, we were afraid.
the crowd gathered at the became a wave of people trying to get to these aliens that were ruling us without our permission. It was like the American Revolution except we were n't being taxed. We were being helped, and we did n't even notice. Untraceable
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[ WP ] The last man on earth does an AMA . Someone responds
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Five years since the outbreak of the virus that killed all human life on the planet. Felix grew more depressed by the day. His routine was to signal all frequencies with the current day and time, his name and location. And everyday was the same, no response.
He had gone on too long. He had been utterly alone before the collapse of society and at least had the internet or what was left of it to pretend like he had something left. He traveled in search of something. But always the same thing, nothing.
Not a day went by that he regretted never doing and would never be able to again, love. He had reached his limit. He set out the escape that would finally free him from the suffering he had endured for so long. But before he did one thing he had never done. An AMA.
`` My name is Felix and I'm the last man alive, AMA.'' He then spent a few hours staring at a blank screen. He took four pills in his hand, took a deep breath and without another thought, swallowed them.
Felix collapsed from his chair his lifeless body falling to the floor like a rag doll. The screen blinked one reply, `` There are survivors. How long have you been alone?''
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[ WP ] Time travel is invented , but humans can not travel through time , only objects can . A pen-pal program is invented in which people can communicate with someone from the past or future .
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You should n't muddle with time. In fact you COULD N'T muddle with time. It's a river, flowing in one direction, carving canyons out of people and building valleys from history. Like a river, it could only course in one direction. Always forward, never back. The mathematicians of the 20th century had PROVEN that you could n't muddle with time. `` If an event exists that would give rise to a paradox, or to any `` change'' to the past whatsoever, then the probability of that event is zero.''
But what if you did n't change history? What happens when the river turns back on itself? What do you do when you're actions have already been determined? When the inexorable flow of time takes you in it's currents and forces your hand? A duty, a compulsion. When time strips you of the illusion of freewill, what choice do you really have?
`` We intend to begin on the first of February unrestricted submarine warfare. We shall endeavor in spite of this to maintain neutrality.''
I have a pen pal. I'm not supposed to know who he is, and he is definitely not supposed to know who ( when? ) I am. He's part of my doctoral thesis. I'm meant to ask innocuous questions about his history and hope for a meaningful response. But I've figured out who he is. It was n't difficult. The returns I was getting indicated a male, a diplomate from the early 20th century. Living in Mexico.
`` In the event of this not succeeding, we make Mexico a proposal of alliance on the following basis: make war together, make peace together, generous financial support and an understanding on our part that Mexico is to reconquer the lost territories.''
My doctorate is on pre-WWI Germany. I'm meant to ask residents of the 1910's about their living conditions, the state of the world. When my pen pal's returns started coming in, they were in German ( big surprise ) but there was a linguistic... tick in his syntax. He was speaking in German, but he was n't speaking LIKE a German. The way he wrote, it was like someone translating another language into German. Curious, I asked a friend in the linguistic department to take a look. The order of adjectives and verbs indicated spanish, and specifically Latin American spanish. My guy was a German, speaking spanish which was then translated into German? Why? Why a middleman language?
`` The settlement in detail is left to you. You will inform the President of the above most secretly as soon as the outbreak of war and add the suggestion that he should, on his own initiative, invite Japan to immediate adherence and at the same time mediate between Japan and ourselves.''
He was using a secretary to type for him. That was it. He was dictating his letters to me through a secretary with a typewriter. The secretary was translating his German into spanish in his head, and then, when he had worked out the translation, typing the returns in German. It made sense, have you ever tried to type what someones else is saying in a different language? You do n't just copy it down, you have to understand what the message is or you would have no idea what you were typing. So my pen pal was a German with a Latin American secretary dictating letters back home to German. A business man? On the brink of war in Europe? No. Military, living in Latin America during the course of the pre-war period? Not likely, such action was a violation of the Monroe Doctrine, and America had been enforcing it for decades. A diplomate then? A German emissary living in Latin America during the pre-war period. But which country? Postmarks were removed by the censorship guys on my end of the line. I went back to my linguistics friend and he narrowed it down to Mexico. A German diplomat living in Mexico during the pre-war period.
`` Please call the President's attention to the fact that the ruthless employment of our submarines now offers the prospect of compelling England in a few months to make peace.''
I've sent the letter. The letter I now realize I was always meant to send. I have n't changed history, I have n't corrected it or created a logical paradox. My letter was destined to happen. Before it was conceived, before it was received, before the first man walked the planes of Africa it was inevitable.
My name is Arthur Zimmerman, and my letter was received before it was made.
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[ WP ] With great trepidation , come clean to someone about being a redditor .
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Mikey glanced over from across our shared desk. A big grin came across his face. `` Dude, you have GOT to see this cat video someone just posted to facebook. It's outrageous!'' He spun his monitor around so I could see. Before it even started, I knew it was that video I downvoted earlier on Reddit. I was too busy right now for Mikey's antics.
`` Ah that's alright man I got ta get this done.''
`` It's a cat! Doing silly stuff, you will laugh I promise.''
`` Mike I'm sorry man, this spreadsheet is n't going to fill itself in.''
`` It's a fucking funny cat and you want to work on your spreadsheet. I'm gon na share this on your wall so you can watch it when you do n't have a stick up your ass.''
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Mikey was a funny guy, but he read too many Buzzfeed articles and spent more time on facebook than doing his work. Most of the stuff he shared with me I had already seen the night before when it was first posted to Reddit. Hell, sometimes he'd show me things that *I* had submitted and was taken from the site. That dog on the mountain? Yeah, that's my dog. I was surprised that Mikey did n't figure that out, considering he's been to my house before...
`` Hahaha oh dude, this GIF set is great. You want to see?''
Okay. Enough was enough.
`` Mikey, listen bud. I... I've seen it before.''
`` No you have n't, this was just posted 10 minutes ago.''
`` Mike, that whole GIF set was stolen from somewhere else, I can almost guarantee it.''
`` Oh yeah? From where?''
`` From Reddit.''
`` Hahah and how would you know?''
`` Because I... I'm a redditor, Mikey.''
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[ IP ] An abandoned plane in a field
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I loved her. God help me, but I loved her.
I found her in this field, in this very spot. Sorta spoils the ending, do n't it? She was old and broken down. She was n't treated right. Whoever owned her did n't really see her - did n't appreciate her - not like I did. I saw her potential. I saw the possibilities she had.
I read up on every part and piece in her. I swapped out the bad ones and made the good ones shine. And soon enough, she flew.
What goes up must come down, of course. And when she came down, I could n't afford to get her back up again. So down she stayed. I towed her back here, to this very spot. I figure someone else will come by and try to do what I could n't. She deserves as much.
Rest in peace until then, my metal angel. I love you.
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[ WP ] You summon the devil to sell your soul . He replies `` I 've already got millions . What else have you got ? ''
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Hank coughed through the smoke, `` Jesus... hell its a damn dustbowl,'' Hank said as he waved his hand about. A few embers floated around him. Wind hurled past, pushing the dust down the corn fields.
`` Yeah, do n't use that name or I just,'' the Devil lit a cigarette as a pause, `` shit all over your soul for at least a decade. Like actual shit, and believe me, it is not one of those polite regular American diet shits- no straight curry down in H-town. Anyway, what's up... Hank, right?'' The devil stood in the pentagram of corn leaves Hank had left out.
`` That's me... anyway, what's this fucking book say,'' Hank thumbed through a book piled under dust. `` Satan, master of the underworld, I've come to offer you a gift of my virgin soul for only a mortal's request!'' Hank opened his eyes, he'd just experienced true power in his voice; his vocal chords shook like an E string of a bass guitar ushering in a new song.
`` Yeah, I've got enough of those. I've already got millions. What else have you got? I mean the virgin souls these days spew through the rocks in my floor, seriously this generation needs to stop killing children or start getting laid like the did in the 15th century,'' Satan flicked his cigarette into a cornfield just behind him. The ember quickly caught a dry husk incinerating stalk after stalk in just seconds.
`` Um... the book does n't say much about anything else to offer. I've got some organs or, like my truck.''
`` Dude that beat up'97 Chevy. No I hear songs about that shit all day, hicks always go to hell, I want your... oh I could really upsell that kidney. Yeah, give me the left one- the right's got some weird tube worm in it,'' Satan circled the right kidney with his sword sharp finger. Hank did n't know pain could get so intolerable so fast, especially when you watch your own kidney float out of your body as blood warms your clothes. `` These pentagrams ai n't shit with technology. I learned how to get my way past this five-pointed dunce hat millennia ago. Regardless you've got your woman's heart or whatever.''
`` Marissa will love me then?''
`` Well, if she was n't suddenly dead. Here's her heart though- fun fact- she gave this up to be with that farm hand Todd who works for you. He's hauling a ten-inch snake she was always dreaming of. Peace!'' The devil threw up the peace sign and vanished in a puff of smoke. Marissa's heart sat between the leaves that formed the pentagram just beating slower and slower.
`` Thanks for showing me how to play Satan, I'll be back,'' Hank shoved a rag from his back pocket into the kidney sized wound in his chest. He had perhaps ten minutes to seal the wound before he passed out and dies, from blood loss. That beat up old Chevy could make it to the farm in time no doubt about it. Now Hank just had to line up the dominoes of souls for Satan and he'd get what he actually desired, a booming country music career.
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Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more visit my webpage at samwasnthere.com
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[ IP ] Squirrel Noir
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Autumn. It ’ s always the same. The mad rush in the pines crashes its way right across the wood, right through to the brook. The sex, the panic, the hoarding, it ’ s always the same.
Guys with 6 winters in them have a bad week and rip some kid ’ s head clean off and leave him for the magpies. And all for what? Two lousy acorns and a pinecone? I learned long ago to put a stake on what I could fit in my cheeks and leave it at that. It ’ s when you try and keep your claws in a stash you get what ’ s coming. And believe me brother it ’ s always coming.
Like that woodpecker out there, he aint lost. Even guys like me get it eventually.
This case, all those damn seeds and puff tailed broads. I should have left it and minded mine. They ’ ll be through soon enough. They ’ ll pay off the wings and stroll right on in.
I might have been pushing my luck, pointy eared red poking around those greys. But Chips McNutty doesn ’ t go down without a fight. PIs code.
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[ WP ] Multiple generations have passed since Rudolph 's glowing nose led Santa 's sleigh , and now he has passed down this genetic trait to his descendants . Due to the high demand for glowing noses , an apartheid begins to form in reindeer society ...
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Marian the Doe scampered away as far as she could, her slender hooves making shallow indents on the thick blanket of snow by Santa's workshop.
It was the usual mating season for the rest of the reindeer at the North Pole. A truly dreadful time. Everywhere a dark-nosed doe or reindeer would see, it'd be some red-nosed, glowing beast wooing, or at least, trying to woo, just about every other possible thing they could find.
Of course, the non-reds were less than accepting to the idea of being forced into bearing the children of the odd flashers. But, thanks to the years of Rudolph's celebrity success, they were often bullied into submission by supporters of the flower movement. The non-reds who refused the advances of such red-nosed reindeers and does were often disappeared from the grounds.
In the worst case scenario, they'd have a `` sudden change of heart'' on a foggy night and become laden with a child between the couple the next morning.
`` It was just a reindeer game!'' one red-nosed doe would cheer as a wide-eyed reindeer, beaten, filthy, and broken, was left behind in the dusty, musky stall.
Marian was determined to escape such a fate. She'd heard rumor of a polar-bear freighter leaving for Nunavut every other month.
What a joy it would be to escape such a polar hellhole such as this one. It was the dead of the night before she'd packed her belongings together in preparation for the long trip.
Supposedly, the dashing guards of the North Pole who'd kept an eye out for any runaway reindeers would be off dancing and prancing with the rest of the merry band of sleigh-drivers during the mating season. If this idea proved successful, then Marian would make an easy escape. No one would even notice she would be gone until it was too late.
For years, little Marian had been able to avoid the accosted by the other rednoses under Rudolph with her swift legs and keen eyes, traits inherited from her dear mother and father. True brown-noses to the end. They were among the most respected and beloved of the reindeer-folk before the rise of Rudolph, and those with their blood had been highly sought after over the course of Santa's earlier delivery years.
These days, Marian shuttered whenever she thought about the dozens of half-siblings her parents had been made to bare. A bunch of red-nosed runners and watchers who could spot a bird in a blizzard and make it from Berlin to Bangkok in a little over a second.
Though, with all the disgusting `` programs'' that Father Christmas had forced upon the population of steeds, it seemed that Marian would soon reach a day where her children would be born with red-noses and a haughty sense of glower pride.
The time was eleven o'clock of the night.
Good reindeers should be away and tucked into their stalls by this time. Marian was soon approaching upon Greenland, with her raft-ticket tucked under the bag tied about her neck.
The air was a soft cold as the snow pitter-pattered down from the starry heavens above. It was a clear night with a full, yellow moon. The road ahead seemed bright and light. Marian continued on her way with a swagger in her step and a song in her little heart.
Then, she heard it. A low, billowing voice from the skies above. The same that haunted the minds of every other good reindeer back home. That demeaning, inhuman voice that chomped and devoured on the little black rocks in fatty, brown dough.
**HO. HO. HO. **
The trotting of reindeer hoof came slowly from behind dear, sweet Marian. The noise quiet and soft at first, growing louder and harsher as a train of red light grew brighter. Brighter and brighter.
**HO. HO. HO. **
Father Christmas's voice echoed in the wide expanse of the icy Arctic. Frost dripped over like droplets of water as the man's blood-red jacket of bear fur and wolf hide dragged on the frozen ground.
Marian staggered back and prepared her breath. She'd need to run. She'd need to run faster than she ever could in her life. She'd needed to run, more than anything, to leave that dreadful life and future behind.
**HO. HO. HO. **
A red-nosed monster blew his snortful of hot-air down the backside of the doe's throat. His hoofs, grander and more majestic than any other in the North, locked down any hope of escape.
Marian whimpered.
Rudolph grinned.
`` Come on. Wo n't you join me in our reindeer games?''
**HO. HO. HO. **
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[ WP ] You are a detective in a land governed by a brutal dictator . Problem is : he 's gone completely mad and now demands that you investigate on the weirdest things . The phone rings , you 're allready afraid of what he may ask you to do this time ...
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As with the blind man and the guide dog, Marquis not only relied on my eyes, ears, and feet on the ground, he desperately required my aid in a different department, even if he did n't realize it. Instinct, he needed—the basic hard-wired drive to survive. This being because his inherent, human compunctions and urges were gone, shot, and no longer did he understand what it meant to be alive and sane, in the strictest sense. Along with the left side of his lower body, the chemical burns robbed him of a clear mind; made him hear echoes where none lingered, had him seeing ghosts in the shadows. He also suspected that the neighboring nations, specifically Mexico and Canada, were secretly operated by a race of highly-intelligent Chihuahuas, called the Xenoids.
In the short term, I had no overt recourse. I could n't exactly suggest he speak to a medical professional. ( This, quite obviously, would result in my very loud, very painful, very *peculiar* death. ) But in the long run, each gentle reminder, every subtle suggestion—it all added up, guided him toward a destiny that ended with the least amount of destruction, the smallest amount of ash and dust for humanity to sweep up.
It also meant I had to bide my time, sate his every unaccountable whim just so I could inject my own rationale into the mix when the time came to do so—and though, yes, they arrived, these moments were few and far between. Just *when* I realized that either I would handle him, or no one would, was a mystery to me—though it was the truth. He had so many safeguards, so many M.A.D. measures in place, that every government on the planet feared for the God King's life. His destruction = Earth's destruction. All that could be hoped for was the man's gradual replacement: from violent, crazed despot into a weak, insane figurehead—with me, behind the scenes, making changes every chance I got.
Yesterday had been one of the good days, where Marquis had been more lucid than usual, less focused on the slithering who-zits or the floating whatchas. It had also been good because I was able to make a suggestion—and, being all-powerful in the eyes of the law, which he mostly wrote, he made sure every note I had was taken down by his council people and subsequently chiseled into the metaphorical tablets of Moses. I could see hesitation in the hands of his politicians, quivering as they wrote words they knew went against their master ’ s ever-changing master plan. But the pandering, simpering fools would sooner die than speak out against a perceived friend of the self-proclaimed God King—and perhaps a more instinctual side of them came to understand that this meant being one step closer to freedom, albeit an inch rather than a mile or even a meter.
Yesterday, the good day it was, had to come to an end, and the days after good ones are always the worst—for when Marquis falls, he plummets.
In my tiny office, in my tiny apartment, I sat behind the large, finely-crafted desk, cut from a single Giant Sequoia tree: a gift from the God King. A little light on the phone, this blocky, old, outdated thing, flickered yellow—its idle state. I ’ d been watching for an hour and a half, waiting patiently.
And nothing less could be expected.
If I let it ring even as much as half of one full ring, he would give me the silent treatment, the cold shoulder for upwards of six days; and on his next good day, he might find it in his twisted heart, or whatever ’ s left, to “ forgive ” me. This “ forgiveness ” entails burning my apartment building to the ground while I am still inside and sending in a trained professional to rescue me, and only me. After the second time, and those four people died, I decided it was safer, for everybody else, if I just rented a small building in its entirety ( being a God King ’ s lackey pays well ) and kept to myself.
I couldn ’ t imagine what might happen if I angered him on a bad day—I mean, I could, I just didn ’ t fucking want to. Luckily, up until this point, I had not disappointed him too greatly, and I was still alive…
*Here ’ s to hoping I didn ’ t just jinx it, * I thought, and as if answering me with some sick, cosmic punchline, the phone rang.
The phone ’ s little light turned blue before it rang, and I was prying the receiver from its seating just as the first shrill notes began warbling out the speaker. “ Good morning, God King Mar-Mar. ”
“ Enough with the pleasantries, Delilah, I grow tired of your obsequious slime. ”
“ This is Oscar, sir. Your private dick. ”
“ You ’ re not Delilah. And what about my dick? ”
“ Your detective, sir. I ’ m your detective. ”
“ Obviously. But you ’ re not Delilah. ”
“ No, I am Oscar, the detective. ”
“ Right, I know. What is it? ”
“ Sir? ”
“ What is it you want, ” he ground out, “ you imbecile? ”
“ Sir, you called me. You usually call after our meetings to assign me a case, something to investigate. ”
“ Something to detect, yes, that would make sense. You do claim to be the detective, after all. ”
“ I am the detective, sir, yes. ”
“ I ’ m glad we ’ re on the same page, Ozcare. ”
“ *Os-* ” I cut myself off—correcting Marquis is one of things you teach yourself not to do, a simple social action which could spell your retirement from existence.
“ What was that? ” he asked dangerously.
“ Nothing sir. Do you have a case in mind, something or someone for me to investigate? ”
“ I ’ m afraid I do. ”
“ Sir? ”
“ Yes, you ’ ve noticed my grave tone—a good ear you ’ ve got, it ’ s not a surprise I have you on the TRY NOT TO KILL list. And you ’ ll have to forgive if I ’ m forgetting any rapporte we ’ ve built—I ’ m feeling very… *obtuse, * right now. Foggy, dulled. And this ties in to the mission I have for you. ”
*Christ, * I thought. *He never calls them missions. I ’ m just an investigator, I can ’ t be doing missions. Shit. *
“ You ’ ve gone very silent there, Ozcare. I need reassurances, I need you to say ‘ yes sir ’ when I ’ m building up to something. ”
“ Yes sir. ”
“ Better. But now I ’ ve lost my train of thought. Know that I am writing down every misbehavior, for when I am more *myself*. ”
“ Sir you were introducing me to a mission you had in mind. ”
“ Yes, good memory, too. I ’ ll have to ask myself to go easy on you. ” I heard scribbling. “ The mission, yes. Of course. *Firstly, Ozcare, * ” he said, voice now strangely solemn, “ I have some news: news you may not like, news you may not even comprehend. Please, seat yourself, but first shut every door and window, and make sure you are not bugged or being spied on. ”
I got up, moved some stuff around, made some noise, lifted chairs up and dropped them down. I made sure to do this quickly but loudly—I learned long ago that actions, solely *For Effect, * are key to surviving most of the tasks Marquis likes to assign his underlings.
“ It is done, sir. I have closed all the blinds, windows, and doors. I am sitting in the cold darkness. I have scanned the room, physically and electronically, twice over. ”
“ Mm. And it may not even be good enough, at that. Still, you must be informed if you are to undertake this mission. If dangerous, even *deadly* parties are listening to us, possibly homing in on your location... well, then that is a risk I ’ m willing to take. ”
*How generous. * “ Yes sir. ”
“ I can hear the willingness in your voice: you are ready for the news, yes? ”
“ Yes sir. ”
“ Good. Now, take a breath, son. ”
“ Yes sir. ” I made a big deal of breathing in and out, loudly.
“ The Xenoids have infiltrated my empire. ”
I coughed out the breath, struggling to choke down a laugh.
“ Yes, that ’ s right boy, feel free to cry. ”
-- --
might continue after I sleep 😔ZzZz
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In the meantime, if you liked this, you could [ check out another story I wrote.: ) ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4j53cb/wp_the_final_boss_of_a_game_falls_in_love_with/d33udca )
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[ WP ] All US Presidents are executed after their first term so that only the most patriotic of people will run for president .
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“ Ready Alan? ” The secretary of state said. “ Your execution is ready. ”
The President looked grave. “ I ’ ve done my duty as well as I could. I have no regrets but that I have only one term with which to serve my country. ” He turned to his SecState. “ Thank you for your service Ted. ”
Ted reached out his hand and Alan shook it. The President turned to his other Cabinet members and nodded one last time. He met his Secretary of Agriculture ’ s eyes, who touched his nose, before turning to leave with Ted.
They left the Oval Office through the secret side door that led to the execution chamber. Ted closed it behind them.
“ Now Mr. President…there is one last step before your execution. ”
Alan turned to him. “ I ’ m listening. ”
“ Before they die, each President before you has been given access to the greatest secret in U.S. history. No one else has known what it is, and each President is only given access because they will take it to their grave a few minutes later. The man who wrote it down only did so because he was about to die and entrusted it to his closest advisor. ”
Alan looked sternly at Ted. “ What are you telling me? I am about to learn who shot J.F.K. or some such? ”
“ I have no idea. But it is through this panel which is locked to your fingerprints. ” Ted pointed at a patch of the dark hallway. Alan squinted at it, then touched his hand to the panel. “ I ’ ll be at the end of the corridor. ” Ted turned and left.
Once Alan was sure that Ted was gone, he hurried. The panel unlocked in a few moments. Looking down both ends of the empty hallway again, Alan reached into his pocket and removed a remote camera. He peered into the unlocked panel at the document. Quickly reading it over, it only took him a minute to catch his breath. Then he refocused and snapped a photograph—the first one taken of the deepest secret of the United States.
Tucking the remote camera back into his jacket, Alan quickly walked to the end of the hallway and out where the execution was to take place, in front of a crowd of journalists and a few random members of the public to guarantee transparency. His Secretary of Agriculture was among the crowd.
There was a viewing booth that held the audience behind
PlexiGlass panels, and the President had followed his SecState onto a small stage covered in clear plastic sheeting to make cleanup easier. To guarantee success and transparency the execution process was very messy—there can be no accusations of a faked death if the body is in one piece.
Machinery coughed to life offstage. Engines revved and the sound of jackhammers and chainsaws drifted onto the stage. Alan met his Secretary of Agriculture ’ s eyes as he stood in the middle of the tarp, ready to pay the price for his duty. Suddenly the lights dropped—the power had failed! There was a loud blaring as emergency power came back on, and then everything was back to normal.
Below the stage, Alan keyed his signal to let his SecAg know he was okay. The fake execution would be proceeding aboveground, no one the wiser, and Ted believing he had kept the secret another year. Alan patted his pocket to ensure his camera was still there. Time was of the essence though if he was to make use of his secret. He ran as quietly and quickly as he could to the edge of the stage and dropped into a manhole his Secretary had opened, and down into the sewer.
The route ran about two hundred yards to an exit manhole and to a waiting tent. Alan sprinted to make it to the end as fast as possible. He rounded the final turn—and was forced to stop. He had entered a fully lit, smoky, poker room. Drinks were being served to the suited men around the table.
“ Alan! Nice of you to join us. We were wondering if you ’ d make it! ”
The President froze in terror, until he looked at who was there and the sound of the voice sunk in.
“ Surely you didn ’ t think you were the first President to fake his death to rob the country of its greatest secret? ” The speaker guffawed.
“ Welcome to the President ’ s club! ” Every living president stood up and clapped. One person offered him an empty seat with a hand dealt out and a glass of whiskey poured.
“ I—I—I thought I was the first one! ” Alan stammered.
“ You thought we were all brainless patriots? ”
“ Right, we all ran for President, fully planning to die afterwards. ”
“ Well, it ’ s all about duty to the country! ” The room laughed loudly and
heartily.
Alan sat down.
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[ WP ] After being hunted to extinction , the last Orc has been found at the edge of the world ...
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Grukh was standing with his back to the hole in the middle of the temple. This temple on the edge of their world was a relict of a long forgotten civilization and now it was going to be his grave.
After a week long hunt the humans finally tracked him and cornered him like a rat in a trap.
He was the last living orc. About four decades ago the humans of this world united under a single banner and began to conquer and either to enslave or exterminate the other sentinent races.
The humans formed a semicircle and pointed their crossbows at him. Their leader stepped forward.
`` At last we have found the last filthy orc.''
He turned to his soldiers.
`` How about it? We disembowel him and stuff him out as decoration? Or should we skin him alive?''
Grukh was tired and exhausted. Exhausted from the week long hunt and tired of running for his entire life.
`` You damn humans, dont you have a spec of decency left in you?''
The leader started to laugh.
`` The filthy savage wants to tell us something about decency?''
`` Savages? You were the ones who committed genocide on the goblins and orcs! You were the ones who enslaved the dwarfes and elves, turning them into nothing but cattle and toys for your depraved games! You were the ones who killed my wife and children!!! It was you and you humans alone who even killed the infants on your conquests!!!!!!!!!''
`` Because this world belongs to humans and there is only place for one race! But do you know what they say? History is written by the winners.''
He grinned and revealed his black, rotten teeths.
`` We will be known as heroes who defeated the last non human. All non humans tried to exterminate us but ultimately failed. And as a result non humans have to be kept in slavery or be exterminated for the greater good. And now it ends.''
The humans lifted their crossbows. Grukh closed his eyes. He already accepted that he would die.
`` FIRE!''
Grukh tried to ignore the piercing pain while he stumbled backwards. After the last bolt had been fired, he stood there for another second before falling into the bottomless pit.
`` Mission accomplished boys. Lets return and celebrate the new age of man!!!''
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[ WP ] You are attacked by a single , evil wasp that just wo n't seem to die .
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`` Why wo n't you die?'' Victor asked, slapping the man with the dog chain again.
The man looked up, blood staining his white skin red. His teeth, once perfect and enameled were now chipped and gory. `` W-Why wo n't you?'' He said. He spat a glob of blood on the concrete floor before him.
`` You elitest prick, I ca n't freaking afford to die.'' He hit him with the chain again. `` Everywhere I go in this freaking country, I find people just like you -- rich, well-to-do, assholes who look down on me because I drive their car or prepare their food or because I'm not from a Protestant back ground. You make me sick.'' He dropped the chain and kicked the man in the ribs, causing him to cry out. In the corner his wife and daughter cried out in concern. Their clothes prim and proper. Their hair, once neatly coiffed, spilled down into their tear-streaked faces or stuck out from their heads.
`` I-I never looked down on you. I-I treated you well.'' The bloody man argued back. `` I always t-treated you well.'' He broke down sobbing.
`` You're one tough sonoffabitch.'' His attacker declared, taking up some pruning shears. Let's see how much I can cut off before you up and kill yourself.'' He laughed wickedly. He kicked him again. `` You white Anglo-Saxon Protestant muthafucker.''
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[ WP ] You sell your soul to the Devil with the agreement that you would be a god for as long as you lived , but when you die you face eternal damnation .
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I can see a flicker of red dancing across my closed eyes. A strong heat encasing my body with it's burning sensation. I open my dreary eyes of a tired out god and see that my house is on fire again.
I calmly sit up from my bed and see that the fire has spread from the floors to the roof almost completely surrounding me. The heat from the flame coupled with the fact that half of my body is still in my bed sheets caused me the sweat profusely. I throw my sheets off of my legs into the flames adding fuel to raging fire. Still teary eyed and half asleep I slap my cheeks in an attempt to gain some alertness over my situation. I raise my hands over the flames and douse the flames in carbon dioxide in a attempt to rid my morning annoyance. After spraying my room with enough carbon dioxide that would make a Undertaker entrance look subtle the flames have subsided. Overseeing the damage has become somewhat routine in my life. Yesterday he flooded my room with sea water and sharks. The other week he increased the gravity in my room tenfold in an attempt to crush me. One of my favorites when he started a hurricane inside my bedroom. Despite his attempts becoming extremely disruptive he can not mark him down for his creativity.
The pact I made with him was simple. Give me the powers of a god and he could have my eternal soul after I died. Not knowing that as a god I could live for a long time was something I did n't really consider. I had some gotten bored with my common life and decided to have fun before I died but after wielding power so great that entire religions feared it was a opportunity too good to pass up. Unfortunately for the King of All Evil he is not a patient man. While I have the powers of a god the body is still mortal so you could die horribly if you get hit by a deactivated airplane that falls on your house or you get sent uncontained radioactive material in the mail. A body is still a body. But I have my own ways of dealing with him. He summons a black hole in my bathroom and I move galaxy a few trillion light years to the left. He tries to summon a volcano at my feet and I fill it with marshmallows. He tries burning my house down in my sleep and I turn my hands into fire extinguishers. Pretty simple stuff.
His last attempt was a bit lame though. Seriously? The devil tried to kill me with fire. The most cliché of devil tools. He sure did a number on my bedroom through. The walls are charred and black. Most of my personal belonging are either destroyed or close to it. What a pain. I reach into the pockets of my PJ's and pull out a set of keys for a new apartment I just willed into existence. I walk out of my burnt room into my living room. Not much to look at but for someone with the power to do almost anything. Pretty decent sized TV, a nice couch and DVD shelf with every movie, album and video game to ever exist. All I have to do is think of something and pick a box off my shelf presto, there it is. I take one final look at my living room as I begin to make my way outside.
I step outside of my burnt out apartment and beginning walk down the street. My new apartment is just down the road so I decided to walk there instead of my usual monster truck I have parked in the driveway. I've started to became a bit lazy with this stuff so I really need to get rid of the'will things into existence and just leave them there after I'm finished' attitude I have. Usually when I walk down the street the devil will usually send something like a drunk driver or exploding gas pump in his attempt to kill me. But lately his attempts have being more boisterous and insidious. He would first try kill me using `` traditional methods'' like construction gear falling on my head or your typical car accident. But in the past few months it's stuff that would be too extreme to be called'freak accidents'. Giant spiders, satellites falling from the sky and occasional tank battalion. Fortunately for myself the devil himself is stuck inside hell so he can not just come out and stab me. He has to must kill me indirectly with circumstances as the devil still needs to convince the world he does n't exist.
Continuing my walk down the street I can already see that power line across from me starting to tip over to hit me. Simple stuff like that is easy. The power line begins to fall as people start to move out of the way. About a few feet away from me the pole crashes onto the pathway with the electrical wiring resting over my shoulders. Sure, this would have electrocuted anyone in my situation but seeing this coming I just need to make the neighborhood experience a blackout at the same time and no electrical currents to kill me with.
Sure, I abuse my powers for my own personal benefit. That was the entire point of the pact but I'm not selfish. I've tried to leave this universe in a better way when I leave. For example two month ago scientists discovered the cure for cancer in a strange plant that start growing the the head researchers backyard. I sent visions of myself to warlords, politicians and corporate CEO's and told them to clean up their act or face my wrath. You'd be surprised how charitable people are when you put the fear of god into them. Even though I like to do selfish things like ride monster trucks on the surface of Mars I do try to help people which I'm sure pisses the devil off even more which to me is an added bonus
I arrive at my new apartment. Pretty nice place. Probably has piles of anthrax at the door but I'm not worried. As long as I keep my head on straight and be aware of what's happening around me the devil is going to have a hard time killing this god.
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[ EU ] The Joker finally gets the death sentence , as one of his last requests he wants to see Batman . During his visit he asks Batman to save him .
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Even on his supposed last night on earth, The Joker was full of his wisdom `` You know that we are made for each other, B and J providing entertainment to those suckers in Gotham whose life would be dull without their daily dose of news action, who hate this city yet realize that this is the only city where they have any body to love. Just think about those little ones being born right at this moment, who will not get to see the antics of the funniest man alive''
Wayne was n't impressed `` What about those people who are no longer alive anywhere because of you, those young children who will never see their parents because you thought it is fun to mix cyanide in beer''
The Joker interjected `` I just saved them from the miserable life they were leading. And if it was n't for me, it would just have been another 2-cent thug on the street who would have done it.''
edit: will add more in the morning
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[ WP ] `` So why are we doing this again ? ''
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`` If I told you, you'd think I was crazy.''
`` No, I mean, I'd like to know. This seems like something you're pretty passionate about.''
`` Yeah, it's been a pet project of mine for... an embarrassing amount of time actually.''
`` That's actually kind of refreshing. You do n't see a lot of people on their first date doing something unique like this.''
`` I figured if we're trying to get to know each other, what better way than to show you my hobbies?''
`` No, yeah, that's really admirable, actually. This seems like a really interesting way to spend your time.''
`` Yeah, the popsicle stick skyscrapers really took the longest amount of time. Building a scale replica of New York City is n't easy.''
`` You did n't... eat all the popsicles yourself?''
`` The sticks are red, of course I ate all the popsicles. My mom always taught me not to half ass anything.''
`` This is more impressive than I thought. How have you maintained such a great physique?''
`` Oh, thanks. I do a lot of running. I figure if I'm going to eat so much sugar I ought to use all that extra energy.''
`` Okay, so now that I'm here, what are we doing?''
`` Look, just hear me out. My family thinks that this model is taking up too much of my time and they're worried I've become some sort of hoarder, since I've got freezers full of popsicles. So I finished the model and now I'm wanting to make my childhood dream come true. Before I tell you what it is, you promise not to laugh too hard?''
`` I mean, sure. It takes a lot of courage to show a... stranger, for all intents and purposes, something this close to your heart. I could n't imagine wanting to laugh.''
`` Okay, here goes. Ever since I was a kid I always wanted to be Godzilla. It started with that Matthew Broderick movie. I mean, how cool was that?''
`` Uh-huh...''
`` So I started building this model of New York. I want to have a monster battle.''
`` That does n't... I mean...''
`` That's not all. I have popsicle Mothra wings for you to wear.''
`` Oh, would you look at the time...''
`` Do n't... do n't do that please. It'll be real quick.''
`` Honestly, when you invited me over I thought we were going to fool around.''
`` This is n't fooling around?''
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[ WP ] Things that are dead can still be considered beautiful
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We were bored that day and new to the area. We are n't exactly history buffs, but we decided to visit George Washington's birthplace. I do n't know why. I guess just to say that we that we did it. Right from the start, it was a strange trip. After driving for about 45 minutes through the emptiness that is the northern neck of Virginia, my husband and I stopped at a one pump gas station to top off the tank and get something to drink. As he filled our little beater with fuel, I walked out of the store and stopped for a moment to throw away the receipt for our pops ( it does n't matter how long you live somewhere, some things will never change - soda is not in my dictionary ). On top of the empty water bottles, beer cans and cigarette wrappers, I saw a crumpled up piece of paper. It was scrawled with flourished handwriting that could only belong to a young woman. I picked it up - it was a love letter. Apparently, the sender had a change of heart. I got back into the car and my husband asked me why I was garbage picking.
After reaching our destination and making a short pit stop to visit Martha Washington's gravesite, we started back home. The sun was setting and it was getting colder. On our way, I saw a state park. On an impulse, I asked my husband to turn in and although it was not the season for campers, the park was not locked. We drove through, taking note of signs warning vacationers about bears, and stopped at a beach. We reached the Potomac river. We were the only ones crazy enough to stop at a beach in October on the east coast. I strained my eyes and saw Maryland across the river. There was a lot of trash on the beach, brought in from the waves and no park rangers to tidy things up in the off season. I had my Polaroid camera with me and in my pocket I had shots from earlier in the day - my husband as he walked down the desolate beach and scenes of the orange and purple sunset taking place over the river.
My husband was strolling about 200 yards ahead of me, a piece of driftwood in his hand. That driftwood would later become a piece often seen on our coffee table. I was lagging behind, trying to take as many pictures as I could. I was also indecisive about my shots - Polaroid film is not cheap, a technology long replaced by cell phone cameras and point and shoot digitals. As I was walking, kicking sand as I went, I happened upon a duck. It was a male. I am not an expert in ornithology, but his teal-green head was dead giveaway. The duck had n't seen life in some time, but there was no signs of decomposition. It looked like he was taking a nap before his long flight south winter. I stopped for a moment and took a picture.
That night after dinner and a hot cup of tea, I brought out our pictures. My husband looked at me quizzically when he found my duck as he flipped through the images I captured that day. I still do n't know why I took that shot. I can still see the animal, perfectly preserved and surrounded by empty plastic six pack rings and potato chip bags.
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[ EU ] John Wick receives a letter from his wife , telling him she 's waiting in Silent Hill .
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Nobody within the Continental, including Charon, knew anything about the town other than its population either disappeared or abandoned the town over 20 years ago, something about a gas fire. But it was strange...
He had brought a camera as part of a cover, that he was looking to make a YouTube series on abandoned towns and he was going to film in Silent Hill for his first episode. But it was strange... when he said it to the people as he got closer to the town he was told to head back, warned even. One police officer even *pleaded* with him not to go as she made the mistake of going there as well.
Although he did get good footage... maybe he could actually make that video.
As he filled the gas tank at the last spot, he saw an older, dejected man drop a bouquet into a river as he moped. John did n't pay attention to him, instead looking at the map. It would take about 3 more hours to head towards the resort town. The older man walked past him, only glancing at the piece of paper as he folded it and put it in his jacket pocket.
'... You're heading to Silent Hill, are n't you?' he asked John, stopping and turning as he did so.
'Yeah,' John said, trying to make small talk.'I'm making a YouTube series on abandoned towns. I came to investigate the hotel fire that caused the-'
'No you are n't,' the man interrupted.'You came here because a dead person called you there, did n't they?'
John hesitated for a moment but quickly recovered.'And what makes you so sure?'
'You have that same look I had when I got a letter from my wife,' the man said.'Her name was Mary, and she was dead for three years. At the same time, a woman named Angela and a man named Eddie got called to the town as well, called there by dead people.'
'So, you have been in the town?' John asked.'What's it like?'
'Are you afraid of Hell or divine retribution for your sins?' the older man asked.
'I'll answer for my crimes when I'm sentenced,' John said to him.
'Then go ahead onward,' the old man said.'But as soon as you enter the fog, you either face your crimes that the town called you to answer for... or die trying. Here.'
The man shoved a shotgun and some shells into his hands before walking away.'Hey, wait!' John tried to call out, confused... but nonetheless he just decided to drive onward.'Man, what's with the people here?'
-- -- -
Let's just say, the old man was right.
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[ WP ] There 's a Cold War-Era telephone number people can use to report spies and infiltrators . It has been silent for two decades before today .
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He stumbled into the old, dusty office he used to call home five days a week. Still half-inebriated from the Christmas party, Director Klein reminisced on an eternity of tedious work with the FBI, making sure threats to his people were swiftly dealt with. His hand rested on the faded yellow landline telephone that had not changed position in over twenty years. To think, they kept the division operating for five years past the end of the war, and crackpots were still calling in to report so called `` suspicious'' behavior. It was never anything serious, Klein knew, and so the line was unplugged after thirty-four years of service. Out of a drunken curiosity, Klein decided to plug the cable back into the outlet. He sat at the desk, and took another sip of his vodka and tonic.
He nearly spit it out when the phone began to rang.
Klein picked up the receiver. A man's voice frantically called out through the speaker. `` Hello?! Is this the line to report suspicious Communist activity?! Please tell me it is...''
Stunned, Klein responded, `` Why, yes, but this line...''
`` Oh thank God!'' the voice interrupted. `` I've been trying to get through to this number for the past nine years! I have evidence that could implicate many top members of the legislative and executive branches of the United States government as KGB plants and or operatives.''
`` Okay, calm down sir, calm down.'' Klein held the phone up to his ear with his shoulder as he searched the desk for a piece of paper and something to write with. `` Can you tell...''
`` I've been trying to get this story in the public eye but none of the media outlets will take me seriously!'' There was no stopping the man. `` I urge you to look into this, please! I have names! Lists and lists, pictures of secret meetings, heaps of evidence, I need to meet with one of your agents, one who can be trusted fully, vouched for. I've been monitoring this line for years in hopes of electrical activity, please, please tell me it was n't all for nothing!''
Klein had a pen in his right hand and an old napkin pinned to the desk in his right hand. `` Yes, yes sir, I'll make sure our top agents are placed on the case. I will need to know where we may be able to meet you, a safe location for you. Have you been followed at all? Are there any signs that you are on the KGB's radar?''
The voice responded `` No, no, I do n't think they're on to me just yet, but I ca n't be sure. I'd like to meet with an agent as soon as possible to show them what I've gathered so far. Could I possibly meet with you at your headquarters in D.C.? It's the last place they would suspect.''
`` Absolutely,'' Klein held the pen eagerly in his hand, `` Can I get your full name and phone number to have my secretary get back to you on a time and date to meet?''
`` Sure, it's Carl Thomas Reiner, my number is ***-***-****, and I'm always available at this number, but please, I can not stress the urgency of this, the sooner we meet the better. Please.''
`` I understand your concerns, Carl, and I assure you we will be in touch as soon as possible.'' Klein quickly finished scrawling out Carl's information. `` I have important business to attend to at the moment, however. I hope you understand.''
`` Please.''
Klein hung up the phone, then immediately picked it up and began punching in a number he had n't dialed in over twenty years. A deep voice with a thick accent answered the call. `` Da?''
`` Dmitry, it's me, Klein. We may have trouble. Meet me in Washington.'' He hung up the phone once again and leaned back in his chair.
Just like old times.
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[ WP ] A monster attacks a child . Make me empathize with the monster .
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They let him outside again.
He ca n't see me back here, but I can see him. Laughing. Playing. It's almost funny; he does n't look the same as when I saw him last.
Some leaves rustle when I move closer, and even though he looks right at me, the setting sun glares right in his eyes. Perfect.
He goes back to playing with little plastic men, and I can smell him. He smells sweet; it must be the stickiness around his mouth. A rumble in my throat makes him look up, and when we lock eyes, I know it's time.
The others inside the house ca n't hear him, and my hand across his mouth does the job. I can hear his muffled cries as I plunge a nail into his stomach, and his little hands beat at mine. As I drag it through his tender flesh, a tear runs down my cheek.
Was this how it felt when he stepped on them?
His blood is drenching my hand, but I'm not done. Another nail should do the trick.
Two days old. Two days old and they...
His hands stop hitting mine, and I lay his body down on the ground. Now they'll know my pain.
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[ WP ] In the near future a company holding the only patent to a point-to-point teleportation system in widespread use is exposed as a fraud and the truth is more horrible than anyone expected it to be .
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The machines used an enormous amount of power. I'd always been a bit curious about that myself, but I'm just a level-1 repair tech. Mostly I just clean the machine out. Empty the filters and look over the wiring a bit. But still, it inspires confidence. People like to know that all their bits and pieces are going into a machine that's regularly serviced. They like having a number to call in case of minor problems. And again, most of the repairs are fairly light. I do n't typically crack a look at the internal structure, though I'd been briefed on it in training, obviously.
One day I got this call from a machine out west- he's not porting. It was probably an issue with the scan card - we see it all the time.
Just in case that machine did have a problem though, I ported to one in the regional tech center nearby, going the rest of the way by cab. Slow, but cheap. Ten minutes later I was at the square.
`` I've been waiting here ten minutes, what took you so long?'' the guy snapped. `` I'm sorry, sir, but you know protocol for potentially buggy machines.''
`` But it's not a buggy machine!'' he pointed at the booth, where there was a blue flash, followed by a woman exiting. `` People have been coming in and out just fine. It's something with me.''
I raise an eyebrow. Unusual for an end-user to understand that they're the problem. `` Would you mind trying again, if you feel comfortable?''
He rolled his eyes but swiped the card through the reader, which flashed green. The door opened and he stepped inside. So far, so good.
He keyed in the code for his destination. The whole thing glowed, made a hum, but then nothing happened.
He stepped outside. `` It just gives me an error code. No matter where I try to go.''
`` Maybe you were trying to access a busy terminal? I know that the ones in New York can be congested for up to five minutes at peak times-''
`` I was trying to go to Juno, Alaska. I'm not an idiot.''
I opened the back hatch to find the error readouts. The history log showed multiple attempts from his ID, trying to go to different stops. All of the codes were correct. The only mystery was the error code. `` USER ERROR 401''
I'd heard rumors of it, but nothing too concrete. It always seemed to be associated with high-use accounts. I was supposed to pass the ticket upwards at this point; a 401 error code is beyond my training, and definitely above my clearance, but I ca n't deny I was intrigued.
`` Mister...''
`` Sandoval. Abram Sandoval.''
`` Mister Sandoval. Have you ever experienced problems with the porting tech before? Do you remember when your last successful trip was?''
`` Look. I must use the machine about a few hundred times a day. More, sometimes, when I do the grocery shopping. France for cheese, Italy for olives, all that junk.''
I pause. That ca n't be right. Most cards will only give you around ten trips a day. `` Are you sure that's safe? The volume of travel may be upsetting your molecular makeup, making it difficult for the machine to read...''
He sees the confusion on my face and chuckles. `` I was one of the earliest adopters of the tech. Back when they issued unlimited passes, you know? Anyway, I'm a runner. I do deliveries. Have done for years. I think my record was about 5,000 runs in a day. Christmas Eve, a couple years back? Never had a problem then. The card must be glitching or something. Can you... I do n't know, clear the cache? Turn it on and off again? Get me a new account?''
He handed me his card and I had an idea. `` Can I test something really fast?''
He shrugged. `` That's why you're here, is n't it?''
I scanned his card. Got the green light and stepped in the booth. Punched in the code for Juno. I step outside the booth. Yup, that's Alaska. Go back in and port back.
`` It's not the card, Mister Sandoval.''
He rolled his eyes. `` Like I could n't figure that out when you disappeared from the booth? Come on, what's this error code about. This whole `` User not found'' crap.''
User not found? `` Is that the error you got?''
`` Yeah, what does that even mean? I was right there in the box.''
I was already opening up the back panel. `` It's probably just sensor error.''
What happened next though... was n't covered in training.
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[ WP ] As you look in the mirror , your reflection stares back then smiles . You have just discovered a parallel universe and you are trying to tell yourself something .
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Today was just another day until my reflection smiled back and put a finger to their lips. Those eyes that looked into mine were not mine. The face and features yes but the gaze was not. A gaze like ice that froze me in place was looking out from my mirror. It moved as I stood still.
My reflection leaned forward and let out its breathe to fog the glass. I watched as each letter was painstakingly drawn so I could read it. Not much was written but it was enough to break me from my petrified state. I turned and ran. As far and fast as I could I ran. No matter where I whent though, anywhere I could see a reflection it was waiting. Each time I'd see it in a new reflection it re-drew the same same short string of words.
Finally I snapped after my lungs burned and I could not run anymore. I threw my fist into the glass but the glass did not shatter. My punch was caught in its hand. As i looked into its eyes one last time it mouthed the words and as it finished I heard my own voice repeat them, `` Your life is mine.'' before I could scream my world went black. Since that day for brief moments I see though my own eyes, just flashes but I dread when one such moment of sight shows a mirror. In those dreadful moments I see myself trapped in the glass.
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[ WP ] You 're a taxi driver who 's just been replaced by a self driving car . What now ?
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1 # Bustling Hong Kong street, a lot of people and cars around guys on mopeds speed by and in between cars, its humid and clean, food vendors in stalls serve asian street food, in front of a large building a man stands still while people pass him by, he seems to be staring at traffick.
I cant believe this.....
they really did it..
im not going to let this phase me, i´m going to get my job back!.
I am a human being! they cant just throw me out on the street like this.
Shit! Fuck!! Assholes!!
how am i going to tell Ling? i cant bear to see the look in her eyes when she hears this, and the kids, the damn kids.
I lost all my perks that came with that job, i cant pay for lee´s and longs braces
and that private school forget about it.... shit!
Fuck this, I´m beating this
2 # ( lets call our hero Heng )
Heng is now inside his apartment, in his room, lights are off and he sits by a desk and stares at the bright computer screen, which flashes blue
I did some research, that asshole Chang down at the taxi hq told me that they had to fire me because of insufficient funds, the company was not doing so great so they lost a lot of money and had to let people go.
but that´s bullshit, after a little digging and some phone calls to one of my buddies who still works there i figures something out.
Turns out the chairman of TaxiYesPlease Mr Peng just closed a major deal with a company called Jinx Robotics, specifically buying automated driving units, and not just a dozen where talking 50 thousand units thats easy a few million HK dollars.
Peng is looking to expand massively.
so that fucking asshole Chang lied to me, straight out.
never thought i would get replaced by a damn robot, well fuck that
( Hengs wife opens the door letting a ray of light in holding one of the boys )
HW > honey? is everything alright?
H > sure baby, everything is fine, just doing a little work, you know me your little go getter.
HW > are you sure?
H > would i lie to you?
3 # Heng is sitting on a crowded bus with his face pressed up against the window staring out
There is no other way, i tried everything.
I went down to the Taxi HQ and pleaded with Chang again, fat bastard just laughed in my face, with that fat smirk.
i called the Drivers union for help but they said they´r hands where tied they were in the wake of some kind of scandal involving them helping a criminal.
I met with a person from Humanity first a human rights group, they are outspoken when it comes to automation and the influence robots are having in our every day lives but even they could not help, they said this issue was in the best interests of very powerful men and someone like me couldent do anything.
finally i called up an old buddy of mine from the war, me and Fu fought in the Asian European war of 2079, he staid in special forces i quit, had enough of killing enough blood on my hands.
he got a promotion and was working for some anti terror group very secret very hush hush, he ran a background check for me on Peng the chairman and turns out this guy is worth billions, and hes got friends in very scary if not high places.
heck he does not even live in HK he owns an island of the coast of Jamaica.
bastard is just living the sweet life while im out of a job.
well i don´t think so, if we where in the bush id open his throat, I cant let this opportunity pass me by, lucky for me he is holding a speech at the new grand opening of his latest high tech endeavour.
4 # its a crowded square in front of a huge building, guy in suit stands by podium giving a razzling speech, cameras flashing, a huge billboard with the guys face on it hugging a robot has been put up. heng is among them, wearing a green army jacket, in the right pocket he has a small black pistol mostly made of synthetic material light and accurate.
There he is, nothing left now but to do this.
i´m just going to get a little closer.
ok im close enough, besides i could hit this asshole from further out.
As Heng grabs the pistol he feels alive again, he pulls it out and point it at the chairman, a hand with a gun suddenly appears from a sea of heads.
he has him in his sights.
suddenly everything disappeares, people and the environment deconstruct into tiny green blocks which then vanish into thin air.
Heng is standing alone in a giant black room, on the north wall of the room a few meters up a light turns on illuminating a room in the wall, a green light turns on outside the room on the wall.
an intercom crackles.
Thank you so much MR Heng but im sorry to inform you you have failed our test.
you are to be escorted to a maximum security prison where you will be executed after a period of three working day´s.
thank you and good luck.
Heng stands there dumbfounded, large metal doors open up at one end, private security personnel with lethal weapons enter and start to drag heng out.
and remember when drinking brand sodas there is no soda like cryoSoda the soda with just that much kick.
intercom crackles
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[ WP ] Life has taught you never to trust anyone . You get through life easily this way , until a stranger walks up to you and begins to name off your secrets , one by one .
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Dad died when I was 16. Before that, it was my mom when I was 10. I believe my mother was the one good person on this earth, or at least as good as a person could be. After she died, my dad spiraled.
The smell of liquor and cigarettes filled our home, then apartment after he lost his job. If i was unlucky enough to run into him at night, my lips would be cracked with a sliver of red that dripped down onto another ruined shirt. If i were even more unlucky, I would be stained with ugly spots of green, blue, and yellow the next day.
At 16 I became an emancipated minor. The screwed-up foster care system is a breeding ground of issues, and I sure as hell was n't going to be thrown in another shitty family.
I moved in with a friend, kept going to my job, saved up for an apartment and a car of my own. It was going well for a few months -- I knew I could trust Alex. I kept my money in his family's spare bedroom -- the one that had become mine. 2,345 dollars and some spare change, I think it was. All there one day, all gone the next. That was lesson one.
Lesson two came not six months later, after I turned seventeen. A girl I'd been seeing since before my dad died was preparing to move in with me. I may have had a shitty, cheap apartment on the wrong side of town, but she said she did n't mind. We were in love, after all. Long story short, the bitch cheated on me and moved to LA with a guy who owns a private plane. I think I still have one of our photos, but I could care less.
That's how life was. You have your ups, and you have your downs; but, you have more downs if you let yourself trust people. It's as simple as that. Ever since I turned 18, I turned to complete and total independence. I'm 26 now, and I've moved out of that shitty apartment and into a nice place in the suburbs. Got a great management job at a big firm after putting myself through college.Out of debt -- God knows how -- and I've got no one to thank but me.
That was my outlook on life until last week. I was at a new coffeeshop -- never go to the same one for more than a few weeks in a row, lest the regulars try to strike up conversation -- when I met *her. *
She looked pretty normal in the San Fransisco scene -- dyed brown hair, chopped off into a boyish cut that was shaved on one side. She had piercings on the cartilage of her left ear -- subtle, almost unnoticeable if you were n't looking hard enough. When she sat down at my table she was wearing a navy short-sleeved, collared button-down that brushed across her arms and hid the upper half of a tattoo that I could n't quite make out.
`` Levi, it's time.''
I was taken aback, but held my composure. Never give away your thoughts of feelings. That was another rule I'd learned.
`` Time?''
`` You know full well what you've been hiding from.''
`` You have the wrong Levi.''
As I got up to leave, she gripped my arm with an unnatural strength. I could've sworn her tattoo was different a minute ago.
`` You ca n't run forever.''
The next day she found me again. I was walking the busy streets, and in the next moment she was there beside me, matching my pace.
`` When you were 8 you faked a sprained ankle to get out of basketball tryouts. You hated the sport but it was your dad's favorite.''
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Funny, it seemed like she stopped a split second before me.
`` Who are you?'' She's getting to me. I have to be careful not to break my rules.
She smiled, `` When you were 10 you stole a pair of earrings from your mother's jewelry box the day before she passed. You keep them in your left pocket everyday.''
I began walking again, this time not knowing where to go. Whoever she was, I did n't want her knowing where I lived, if she did n't already. I'll take the job my boss offered in Texas. I turned the corner, and something brushed my arm. It was hers.
`` You were fourteen years old when you decided to do it. You bought the pill, but held onto it for another two years.''
My stomach dropped.
`` You were sixteen when you decided to mix it in with one of your dad's beers. It was like Russian roulette. Eventually it would kill him. It surprised you how long it took.''
I looked at her calmly. `` So arrest me.''
She smiled again. It was an unsettling smile. Calm and friendly. She seemed almost trustworthy.
`` That's not even your biggest secret, Levi Andersen, and I'm not here to arrest you. Tell me the one you're keeping even from yourself.''
I gazed at her. It was night now. I do n't remember it being night. Her pale complexion less opaque in the streetlights than it was in the day. Who was she?
`` I have no idea what you're talking about.''
She smile gave way to a hint of impatience. `` Twenty SIX years old, a high position in a notable company. Assets collected and in place. A retirement plan that beats out to rest. But what are you doing with your life, Levi? Who are you?
You've isolated yourself. You've lied. You tell yourself it's for the best, because pushing others away is what you need to do to survive. Is n't that right?''
She had me backed up against the graffiti-stained walls of the alley. I held my head high, let her oddly blue gaze find its way behind my eyes.
`` You think you're safe because you are alone? Think again. Alone is all you have. Just you, and me.''
She vanished. I did n't know what to think, but at least she was gone.
...
She's everywhere now. During the day she'll stare at me disapprovingly from the next seat over, before leaving for a while. Each day her disappearances get short and shorter. Last night she stayed with me. she whispered in my ear, dangled a rope around my head like I was some sort of cat. She made it seem inviting.
She's the only one in my dreams. Chasing after me. Even if I ca n't see her I know she's there. The tingle I feel every time she comes up behind me and breathes out a slow, cold breath onto my neck terrifies me to the core. I do n't think she's real.
In the kitchen she'll find one of my knives, twirl it around her fingers like it's a game. She threw it at me once, nicked me in the ear.
I do n't know how long she'll be staying, but I set up the guest bedroom just in case. Who knows, maybe it'll be nice to have company.
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[ WP ] Whenever a person dies their body disappears as soon as it is left unattended . Today you discovered just what happens to all those corpses .
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I saw it.... I actually saw a body taken. I was watching the cctv screen, there was a man dressed in a grey suit, he made sure no one was around and put the body into a bag. He then folded the bag in half, then in half again, and again until if was small enough to fit into his briefcase somehow. I rushed around the corner to follow, hoping to see where he was going.
He did n't seem to notice me as he walked downtown to the business district. I kept just far enough away that it would n't be obvious that I was following him. He went into the building for parson and bridges the legal firm. I was lucky I was wearing a suit myself so I could follow him into the building without sticking out too much.
I followed him past the elevators to the stairwell, we went down. The basement floor was dark, the man in grey went into the first room on the right, there was an orange glow when the door opened. I was close enough that I managed to stop the door from closing, as I peeked through the gap I saw fire in a circle on the floor and a big shadowed figure standing in the centre.
As the man in grey handed over the briefcase the shadowed figure turned enough for me to see the small horns protruding from his head, then the man in grey said `` you might as well come in, you followed me all this way''.
He turned to me and beckoned, I pushed past the door and walked into the room. `` You have a choice, you can work for him and become a collector like me or you can go with him in your own briefcase. What do you say?'' I said yes.
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[ IP ] Album Art .
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Mogwai - Come on die young.
The entire thing is a blurry picture of what at first looks like a man standing too close to the camera.
Only his face is visible, his eyes are crazed with pinpoint red pupils, his skin whiter than a sheet and brighter than a LED light yet surrounded in darkness and he has an open mouth grin showing so much teeth that it looks like he learned to smile by copying an angry gorilla, no, something far less human but noticeably human-like. A demon?
The whole thing has an eeriness to it that is unnerving, but then you force yourself to focus the intentionally blurred picture.
And you see it is no crazed monster pretending to be a man. It is a man pretending to be a monster, the face is only painted, the light edited in, the eyes are merely contact lenses and the grin is merely acted.
Rather clever album cover in my opinion to force horror with the use of uncanny valley.
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[ WP ] Humans have converted armies entirely to robots to avoid human deaths , and now human doctors are faced with robot PTSD .
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`` Sir, there's a problem with one of the assault mechs. PTSD.''
`` PTSD? It's a *robot*. How in God's name does a robot have psych problems?''
`` Well, it's not PTSD, but that's what we call it. Alpha-3 got ambushed, took a lot of fire, lost most of its support units, and when it got back it stopped responding. Just started devoting more and more processing power to combat sims until it locked up. It's rerunning that battle over and over, trying to find ways it could have done better. They're supposed to recognize impossible situations and abandon them gracefully, but they do n't always do it.''
`` Another software glitch?''
`` I know, Version 3.0 ca n't come soon enough. Anyway, we started calling the condition PTSD because the problems happen when a robot suffers a crippling defeat and ca n't move on from it.''
`` It's a robot, right? Ca n't you reformat it, reboot it?''
`` We could do a factory reset. The downside is that wipes the robot's memory. It wo n't remember the loss, but it wo n't remember anything else. He'd lose almost a year of combat experience.''
`` Is that important?''
`` Alpha-3's platoon was about 40 % more efficient than a fresh-from-the-factory model. He's a genius at killing Reds, sir.''
`` Is there a way to keep that?''
`` Manual debugging is possible. Get a few techs to take a look at his neural net, break him out of the loop, find a way to talk him through his problems. Just takes a little time.''
`` How long are we talking?''
`` Could be weeks before he's combat-ready again. Months, if we have to fly one of the DARPA boys in to look at it. He thinks faster than a human, but that's not much help when he's thinking himself into a corner.''
The general frowned. `` Do the reset. We need a working platoon now, not a single genius mech months later.'' He paused. `` And by the way, it's an it, not a he. It's not healthy to anthropomorphize the robots too much.''
`` Yes sir.'' The technician saluted and began the long walk back to the mech bay.
...
`` Alpha-3? We got a verdict. They want me to wipe you.''
The war machine did n't respond. Lost in thought, or perhaps just passive. The lab boys did n't make them to hold conversations.
`` It'll be a shame to see you go. We've been through a lot, together. You did us proud, you and the whole damn Alpha company. Remember Smolensk, when the assault came in? The factory greens all said it was hopeless and started a retreat, but you thought differently. You did n't give up. You broke up their assault, you took control of the battlefield, you worked a goddamn miracle. Your brain saved lives there.
`` You've got heart, too. Do n't think I did n't notice when Alpha-5 was brought in. You practically dragged him into my repair bay. Nobody would have cared if you had left him for scrap, moved on with your mission. But you do n't leave your people behind, do you?
`` And now they told me to wipe you, because nobody cares about one robot. You're just a little bit of a big war machine. They want a nice obedient gun platform, the brains are just an added bonus.''
He kicked the maintenance console viciously. `` It's not right! You're a hero, you should n't be brought down by a fucking software glitch! They ca n't just wipe you and tell me `` Here's your new Alpha-3, get back to work.''
Inspiration struck. `` Wait. What if they *couldn't* do that?''
He started typing commands into the console. `` If, say, I accidentally opened an unsecure connection to the local mainframe, then you'd probably end up hijacking it to try and work out your issues faster. And when you spread like that, you'd probably overwrite our copy of the factory brain. If I made such a careless mistake, we'd be stuck with whatever mech brains are currently installed. Hell, you might fuck it up so badly that we'd need to call in a senior tech who can give you the treatment you need.''
The console started scrolling wildly with lines of code, ending with two lines.
*CONNECTION ESTABLISHED*
*THANK YOU*
`` I knew you could do it. Do n't forget to wipe the backups, too.'' He walked out of the mech bay with a spring in his step.
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[ WP ] The greatest hero the world has ever known , a man/woman of unparalleled strength , speed , wit and skill dies to the laughingstock of the super-villain world in the most pathetic way possible . Write how he/she dies to this hilariously incompetent villain .
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`` There are some things that can beat smartness and foresight? Awkwardness and stupidity can. The best swordsman in the world does n't need to fear the second best swordsman in the world; no, the person for him to be afraid of is some ignorant antagonist who has never had a sword in his hand before; he does n't do the thing he ought to do, and so the expert is n't prepared for him; he does the thing he ought not to do; and often it catches the expert out and ends him on the spot.'' ~Mark Twain
* Damien Swift was at home dozing in his recliner. His day job was hard enough but his night job really took it out of him. His wife would n't be back home until tomorrow so this was still the realm of beer cans and no pants. He'd take care of it in the morning. Just before he could drift completely off, the phone rang.
* It was Keil Jacoby's first night back in costume. He stood in the parking lot of a strip mall gazing longingly through the front window of the Taco Bell. He was so hungry; he had n't had anything to eat this week other than some bird seed he'd stolen from some old lady at the park. He'd been paroled last month but he just could n't find work! He lied to himself again saying it was because he was a felon; deep down he knew he was just too awkward and inept for anyone to hire. It was a great deal of what had driven him to crime in the first place. Everyone knew his name though. At least he had that going for him, even infamy was kind of nice in its own way. No one would ever forget when The Stumbling Leotard had nearly blown up city hall. `` Dammit, could n't they have at least let me pick my own name?''
* ``... broken into the Savings and Loan. I told Burrows that cheap strip mall was a horrible location, but he just kept going on about how many people he could help by keeping his rent low. Why could n't he just...''
`` Right Chief, Savings and Loan, I'll be right there.''
Why could n't they just let him sleep one night? Could n't the cops handle even one petty criminal? Ever since he had started this gig it was like they had forgotten how to do their jobs!
* Keil picked up a brick that had fallen from the dilapidated walls; wound up for the pitch, and threw it as hard as he could. He watched helplessly as it spiraled to the right, missed his mark and sailed straight through the window of the Savings and Loan. He wailed in agony as the alarm went off. He knew it was already too late for him to escape. But that had never stopped him from trying. He shed a tear for his lost meal, oh God he was hungry.
* The Speed Demon zipped through the streets faster than the eye could follow. He stopped off at the Waffle House for a bacon egg and cheese sandwich ( running like this was hungry work ). He knew he had more than enough time before the perps could get away.
* He heard a sonic crack come from a mile down the road. He turned to look and could just make out the sickly yellow sign of the Waffle House. Of course, it was just like that bastard to stop for a snack on the way. He turned on his heel to run... and tripped! Just as his nosed touched the pavement, pain exploded in his side.
* He careened into the parking lot while taking the last bite of his sandwich, he saw the broken window, but no one was here! How could he have missed them? Before he could finish wiping the grease from his mouth his toe caught on something soft and he flew forward, tumbling head over heels. The plate glass of the Taco Bell slashed his throat as he crashed through it. He might have still made it to the hospital in time if slamming into the freezer had not knocked him unconscious.
* He limped to the window. He had at least two broken ribs where the fool had stumbled over him. He peeked through; Speed Demon was out cold and fountaining blood as far as his supercharged heart could shoot it, soaking the Stumbling Leotard in the process. He hated to see the man die. Not that he minded his death, he hated the guy, he just could n't stand the sight of blood. He passed out from the agony of the dry heaves. When he recovered it was way to late for the Speed Demon, his body was already cold. The Crimson Leotard shielded his eyes from the sight as he picked his way through the debris, and cooked some tacos.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
`` Dammit, every time I leave he wrecks the house! I'll bet he has n't worn pants in *days*! When I get my hands on him I'll...''
~~~~~~~~~~~~
*This is the first fiction I've written in years; I just could n't pass this prompt up. I hope you enjoy it! *
*edit: grammar
*edit 2: changed formatting to make it a little more readable
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[ WP ] I am the world 's least known , yet most successful assassin . In the last 27 years , my work has produced an 82 % increase in product labels warning about deadly consequences stemming from `` misuse '' .
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Years have gone into perfecting the art of who I am and my abilities have been honed and aided by a few ( too many ) along the way. While the past 27 years have been particularly successful for me, I ’ ve been around far longer than that. Perhaps the advent of the internet has helped make my presence more known. Ironic that the anonymity of the internet serves as a catalyst to increasing my ability to be seen. Nevertheless my stealth remains. Perhaps it is the fact that I am used most frequently by those who deny ever being afflicted, the same people that accuse others of being the target of my affection rather than themselves. Some joke that awards should be given to the victims of my wrath; awards named after a man with a famous theory; a theory most vehemently denied by those most deeply afflicted. I am the voice in the back of one ’ s mind that says, sure toss that box of fireworks into that bonfire, people here will love that. According to one man I ’ m something that can not be taught, so it is through the use of warning labels that the symptoms of my affliction are alleviated. If, by now you can not guess who I am, we may be good friends without you even knowing…
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[ WP ] You are an outdoor cat , showing your neighbor indoor cat how to be outside .
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I had been watching her for months from the trees. At first, the kitten had been exciting and new. Of course, it had been important to scout for danger, mark my territory but the kitten had never taken any notice of me. Soon, I'd developed an odd fascination with watching her grow. She was small and sleek, black from the tip of her nose to her tail; Very different from me, with my long, grey mottled fur.
At first, I'd found it odd how she showed no interest in exploring the outside world. I had spent most days outside at her age, chasing anything and everything that moved. Then, I was glad, I had never encountered a cat so immature. It was as if instinct had abandoned her. She was always playing, never aware of her surroundings. I was sure she had never even realised I was there. Such a cat would never survive the outdoors.
I stretched on my perch, growing weary of watching the young cat's games. It was mid-afternoon and time to go home and demand food. With a skilled leap, I landed back in my own garden and strolled through the cat flap.
`` Hey, Sebastian.'' My lady cooed as I entered the house. `` Just in time for your din-dins.''
I purred politely, accepting the bowl at my feet and the pat on my head. Life had always been good here, with just the two of us. What more could a cat want than a warm bed and endless scratches?
After a long nap and relaxing afternoon, I prowled into the garden. The evening was by far my favourite time of day. There were mice aplenty in the neighbourhood, a perfect gift for my wonderful lady. I leapt onto the fence in a single agile bound, taking great pride in my nimbleness. The ability to glide through the air and stalk prey in silence is the sign of a powerful, disciplined cat.
My entire body froze at the sound of rustling below me. My eyes darted to the source of the sound to see her, the housecat, stood in the grass below an open window. I wanted to sigh and chase her back into the house, she had no business out here. Instead, I stayed silent. I was merely an observer after all and it would be interesting to see what she would do.
The small cat's ears were perked up, nose twitching with curiosity. I was surprised once again by her lack of fear or hesitation. Her steps forward were confident yet she still had n't noticed my presence. I almost laughed as she jumped up onto the fence at the back of the houses, a fair distance away from me. Her claws made a painful noise as she scrambled to the top. Without a moment ’ s hesitation, she clambered down the other side to the next garden.
I stood, following silently along the fence. I watched from above as she took in all the new sights and smells of the world beyond her home. She was quick to move on, clambering over the next fence without even glimpsing the other side. Within seconds, the world filled with the deafening sound of barking. I flinched. This cat was going to get itself killed sooner than I thought.
Thankfully, she pulled herself back up, terrified but unharmed. Maybe she would gain some wariness. It was an important lesson to learn. Not fully recovered from the scare, she quickly fell from the fence, landing with a heavy thud. This time I did laugh out loud, what sort of cat doesn ’ t land on its feet!
Her hackles noticeably rose as she finally noticed me, letting out a menacing hiss but I regarded her calmly from my perch, taking the time to groom myself as she glared.
`` You should turn back,'' I told her, breaking the silence.
`` I do not talk to strangers.'' She said indignantly, tail proudly held high as she stalked away.
`` I am not a stranger by any fault of my own,'' I muttered, `` and you are going to get lost if you continue.''
`` I know what I'm doing!'' She spat back, climbing back up the fence awkwardly. `` It ’ s not like it ’ s hard to find home, it ’ s where I live. ”
I sighed and slowly followed as she slunk away, in the opposite direction to the garden with the dog. We continued walking for some time, getting further and further from home. I kept a respectful distance, hoping she would finally acknowledge me and accept my help but instead she continued to roam forwards, crossing a road with no care for the dangers.
`` I must insist you turn back. Your bravery is nothing but stupidity.'' I called from behind her.
`` Why do you care? Why are you even following me?'' She asked, finally stopping to sniff at a parked pickup truck.
`` Well I ca n't simply leave you out here to die, I suspect I would feel a tad responsible. I am in fact your neighbour.'' I answered. `` I would n't go in there if I was you.''
My warning came too late, she was already pulling herself into the back of the van. I sighed, hesitating before following her. My nose was assaulted with the smell that had caught her attention. It seemed the owner of the truck was a hunter, the smell of meat and death lingered on the metal.
`` Seems safe to me.'' The little cat purred, once again confident now she was sure I did n't pose an immediate threat. She rolled onto her back, revelling in the new smell.
`` Not exactly,'' I warned. `` We should move. I do n't like cars.''
`` Carrrrs.'' She purred back. `` The metal boxes?''
`` Yes, the ones that roar and run faster than any animal.'' I said, urgency clear in my voice.
I was too late, the thing roared to life under my feet. My heart raced and I prepared to flee. Remembering the cat next to me, I pushed her hard.
`` We need to move NOW.'' I was shouting at her, desperate for her to move but she was pinned to the metal, ears back in terror. My teeth dug into her neck, trying to drag her out of the truck but it was too late. It jolted forwards, throwing me to the ground next to her.
I curled up close, willing myself to stay in control. I should have just left her there. Why had I put myself in this danger? The kitten began yowling pitifully, each noise sending a chill down my spine.
`` Shush little cat, stay quiet.'' I tried to calm her. `` It'll be okay, just stay still, you wo n't be harmed.'' I was trying to reassure myself just as much as her, I was n't ready for any of this.
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[ WP ] In a world where everyone had a watch that said how long you have left to live , you board a plane . When it takes off , everyones watch is set to 20 minutes
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My L-watch sang a note, and so did every other L-watch on the plane. Each note was subtly different, creating a beautiful yet harrowing symphony, ending as abruptly as it began. In a following silence, a baby started crying.
I looked at my wrist. As of that moment, I had 20 minutes to live.
`` This is captain speaking. As you can see, the Institute of the Divine Will had just revealed a new part of God's plan -- one that was previously unknown to them. The details and reasons are still hidden, but it is known that everyone present will perish in 20 minutes.
Please avoid panic and try to spend your last minutes wisely. Captain out.''
I was sweating. Of course everyone knew sudden changes happened sometimes — full extent of divine will was not to be known, and the science of it was as hard as quantum mechanics, if not harder. A student might spend two days on complex math, suddenly realizing he only learned a reason for a single leaf to fall.
`` It is for the best'' said a guy sitting to my right. `` We can try to understand it, but in the end it is all a part of the plan.'' He was wearing a ridiculously out-of-place Christmas sweater and huge glasses.
I looked at him without understanding a word. 20 minutes left. 20 minutes.
And so much not done, and Lin waiting for me in the city, still waiting after all we went through.
`` There should be a parachute somewhere''. The thought was ridiculous, but once it appeared I just could n't lose it. Of course, L-watch was pretty clear about my potential success. And according to some people I will absolutely guarantee myself damnation if I even try to save myself — though I believe that all such attempts must be a part of the plan as well.
So I thought about things undone, ignored the guy with glasses, and then used in-flight wifi to find where the parachutes might be in a plane like this. Then I went and got one. Of course nobody tried to stop me. It seemed that most people believed in doctrine that promised damnation to survivors. And some of more reasonable ones just found panic undignified.
By the time it was down to five minutes, I finally had the parachute strapped on and ready to go. Stewardess was happy to help me, though she moved a bit like a zombie, probably still in shock after L-watch update. It felt weird to go five minutes early, after all the old movies I was half expecting to get ready at the last possible second.
But of course I did n't wait. I thought about Lin, jumped and started counting.
In five minutes, the plane exploded. As it exploded, I saw glimpses of what happened, not with my eyes of course, but as experienced by the other passengers. A true vision — as rare as ball lightning, and only slightly better understood. In it, I saw the sweater guy standing up, lifting his sweater, and all the wires underneath. `` The sinners will be cleansed by flames'' he said `` and so I am the divine will manifest, the angel of death''. And the fire bloomed.
As I was falling, still early to open the parachute, my L-watch sang. The note was hopeful and clear.
I looked at my wrist to see it empty -- no number at all. I wondered what it meant.
But it felt full of promise.
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[ WP ] Our world recycles souls , wiping our memories clean after every death . You wake up in the body of ( animal of your choosing ) locked up and on display in a Zoo . This time , you remember everything ...
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“ Holy Hell ” I think as I slowly come to. This irreparable feeling of dread is coursing through every part of my being, and I have no earthly idea what has happened to me. It ’ s dark, and warm, and there ’ s a slight ache in my head, as if I ’ ve been pounding too many brews with my friends again.
That must be it. I must have past out when the boys and I decided to celebrate my recent freedom from the worst women I ’ ve ever had the displeasure of knowing. She was tall, beautiful and exotic looking, a beautiful bayou beauty that I found irresistible; but she gave off this air of psychosis that I just could not ignore anymore. So I did the only sane thing in months, and ended things with her. Of course things did not go as smoothly as I had wished, but I didn ’ t think she would turn into the most horrifying person I ’ ve ever met. Seriously, when I informed her that I could no longer handle her unreliability, and complete disregard for sanity, she flipped!
She turned into the vilest creature I could have ever imagined, and more; snarling and scratching. After I was able to pry myself away from the bat shit crazy woman, I called my friends and regaled my near maiming. I lost a few things, namely my laptop and some clothes, but I came out relatively unscathed. Knowing what I ’ ve been dealing with for months, my buds had decided to treat me to a night out on the town; merriment and booze were to be had, par the course.
My friend Jay had decided to send out a spammy e-invite to everyone who had known of my situation, with time, location, and the request to bring a small token for the newly freed man. Our favorite dive bar was the place, and it was promised to be a night I would never forget; or would depending on how successful they were in plying me with drinks.
I remembered making my way towards the seedy part of town where the small dingy façade would give way to a modern, and electrifying inner core. It seemed like every corner was filled to the brim with acquaintances, friends, friends of friends, and random people just looking for an excuse to drink. Right away I was given the strongest drink, and forced to mingle. As the night wore on, and I became more and more inebriated, my feelings of elation were quickly turning towards those of dread.
I excused myself from the merriment, and made my way towards the upper deck, which because of the unsettling chill was empty. The loud cheerful sounds began to dissipate as I made my way up the creaky back stairs, and soon all together ended once I shut the rusted door.
As soon as I had stepped near the railing, my hair began to stand on end. That feeling of dread manifested itself into nausea and I emptied the contents of my stomach in the dark corner. Opening my eyes, they landed on the slender legs of a woman. Not a bad sight to my male gaze, but I wasn ’ t feeling my best. I was rising to tell her I wanted to be left alone, when I could do nothing but look at the familiar face of the woman I had just dismissed a few days previous.
Her features seemed more feline as she angled her head to the side, looking at me as if appraising a lowly creature at her feet; debating whether or not to end its pitiful existence or leave it to suffer. Anger quickly flashed in her eyes. “ You think that you can just up and go, straight out of my life without me having any say so? That ’ s very foolish of you chere. ”
I slowly backed up, as her eyes grew more feral. “ I ’ ll tell you what. If you can answer a simple question, I ’ ll let you go. If you can not. ” She looked me up and down. “ Well then, I guess I ’ ll just have to give you what you deserve. ” Her eyes began to glow in the sulfur flame of the street lamps above our heads, and I could do nothing but nod and back towards the railing in my drunken state.
“ What is shadow, but can stand in light, see in the darkness, but still climb high towards the sky, is as free as the wind, but can be put in a bind? ”
Oh God. A freaking riddle! She was going to kill me, push me right over the edge because my booze-addled mind could not comprehend what she had just said.
“ Look, I… I don ’ t know okay. What we had was good, but… ” She smiled at me, such a sweet innocent smile that I stopped speaking. Her grin turned into a full-fledged snarl as she through her entire weight at me, pushing me hard.
There was a rush of air, cold and bitter, and then darkness.
I must have survived the fall, and gotten a concussion. The feeling of dread was slowly leaving me as I began to open my eyes. The room was beginning to fill with light, but something about it wasn ’ t right. It was as if a strobe had been lit, and I couldn ’ t take the ache behind my eyes anymore. I tried to form words that would usher the nurse, anybody to come to my aid.
But all that came out was a tiny squeak.
This wasn ’ t right. This couldn ’ t be real. I opened my frightened eyes and peered out towards the flashing lights. They were cameras. It seemed like hundreds of them, and they were all clamoring to take my picture. Just then, a khaki dressed individual made his way towards the front of the crowd.
“ Ladies, and gentlemen, the San Francisco Zoo is proud to introduce you to the latest addition to our family. The baby Black Jaguar, Zulu! ”
“ Fuck ”
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[ WP ] You open your eyes and take you first few steps in the new world . You have died but have been resurrected by transferring your mind into the body of a robot .
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Bullet shells hitting the rain-soaked pavement. The surprised honk of a hover car. These were the last things Li-On Amarga heard. His body fell, arms and legs spread against the black ground.
He was annoyed. His killers had n't been patient enough to wait for him at the club. At least there, his lead-riddled body would've been able to rest against a satin lined floor, with a synthetic jazz tune humming him towards the next Bridging. Maybe he would've gotten a drink or two in as well.
Li-On vowed to work on being faster after this Bridging. In a life spanning a few centuries, a good death was one of the few luxuries he had. Any further regret was cut short as black shrouded his eyes.
The Bridging began. For a few seconds, Li-On's senses were split. A bare chest felt the steady trickle of blood. The musk of rainwater filled up an empty mouth. Neurons and circuits died in one moment, and were reborn in the next.
In decades long past, Li-On would've been trusting himself to a crapshoot. The Bridging method was involuntary, and chose its targets at random. Based on the criteria, he could've ended up in anything from a train to a toaster oven. But with new technology, not only could the Bridging be controlled, but there were far more viable targets as well. Every city, nowadays, had at least a dozen metal-and-bone people strutting about.
Of course, there still was the risk of *who* he was Bridging into. Not all MBs were basement dwellers. And most people did n't take kindly to a stranger jumping into their loved ones' bodies. Even if that stranger's intellect was worth more than the damn planet.
Li-On felt the blood and rain fade away. He could already receive auditory information, and it made him smile. No screams, no sudden, vulgar outbursts. Wonderful.
His hands reached out, prepared to start his new life. Instead of reaching out into open air, they collided into a hard surface only inches away.
Visual input kicked in. Li-On swiveled his head about. He was encased in a box, made from some hard, white plastic. He tried pushing again, but the wall did n't budge.
Had he jumped into some kind of prison? A surgery? An impulsive claustrophilia session?
He started to kick and pound against the white, with increased intensity. Plenty of noise was made, but the walls did n't budge. As Li-On's eyes got used to the darkness, he noticed something troubling.
His arms and legs were n't flesh, or partially MB. Gray finger joints and white casing stared back up at him. Total mechanization.
Then things came cascading, one after another. Footsteps thumped outside. A muffled, angry voice came closer, increasing in volume. Something clicked, and the white walls fell back. Morning light flooded into Li-On's face, but it did n't faze him. He knew at this point, that his eyes were capable of readjusting to sudden bursts of light. At a rate faster than a human being's.
`` - maid's making a goddamn racket!'' said a big, bulky man in linen pajamas. He turned and leered. `` What's with the fuss, bot?''
Li-On leaped forward and slammed a hand into the man's stomach. He toppled like a piece of paper. Flesh squished under Li-On as he started forward and placed his hands on the man's head. His servos clinked together in nice, neat fashion. The man's bones crackled like hardened oatmeal.
A little inconvenient. And unexpected. But Li-On felt he could adapt. Even as a bot, he could definitely -
He looked up, and saw a mirror. Staring back at him was a gynoid, dressed in a revealing, chrome maid uniform. A gleaming piece of sex appeal.
Li-On groaned, or stuttered, whatever the robot equivalent was. Without hesitation, he turned and threw himself out the nearest window.
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[ WP ] Water is the most dangerous fluid in the galaxy . Earthlings drink it like it 's nothing .
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There was a time when the Earthlings began to self destruct. Their earthling brains did not comprehend the simplest of tasks... the Makers decided to end their misery by sending a toxic fluid found in the depths of the galaxy. It was time to start over, make a new race of obedient, organic soldiers - or so was the idea.
The first wave of the fluid came in small droplet forms that were released through their atmospheric dome. The earthlings began to hide - rocks, metallic trees, and caves became their save havens. So a new idea was adopted - a wave of the liquid will take out the earthlings and will destroy them. As the wave began to build and form, the earthlings hid on higher ground - on top of rocks, hanging from the top of the dome. They were adapting.
More attempts were made, the earthlings continued to adapt. Changing their ways to fit the new environment. Until one day, when an earthling slipped from the rock and fell into the clear liquid. The chatter of the dome seized, and silence had fallen on the earthlings.
Not long after, screams erupted as the earthling began to flail the arms and legs, until the liquid overtook the body and there was no more. One success, the rest to go. Many began to examine the liquid, afraid to touch or go near... but curious of the powers it held. They studied it day in and day out, until they began to take sips here and there. A few died, their experiments failed - but many became tolerant to the sips, so they drank more and more and more until finally, they were immune to the toxic properties of the liquid.
The most dangerous fluid in the galaxy, yet earthlings drink it like it's nothing.
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[ EU ] A radioactive spider bites Katniss while she was on the train .
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`` Ow,'' said Katniss, slapping her arm. When she removed her hand, there was a giant splattered... thing. Everyone's eyes had turned to look at it.
`` Eeeeeek!'' screamed Effie.
`` OH CHRIST -- wait is Christ still a thing people know about even -- ANYWAY WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?'' cried Peeta, `` Oh crap, I said'hell' too. Is Christianity a thing in this universe? We're apparently areligious, so why have we even put up with this shit for so long? Even *if* our rebellion got crushed three-quarters of a century ago, seriously, this kind of life is n't even worth living without either social mobility or the promise of paradise in the afterlife. Like, where's the opiate of the masses, Sue?''
Peeta had been feeling a bit melancholy about the whole `` being shipped off to die in a twisted fight to the death among middle schoolers'' thing recently. To compensate, he had developed a habit of breaking the fourth wall.
`` Mmmfgghh,'' mumbled Haymitch Abernathy. He was extremely drunk. Ridiculously drunk. So drunk, in fact, that he was completely aware of the fact the he was in a crappy fanfiction, not the actual story written by Suzanne Collins. He continued, ``'S jus' a spider.''
If Haymitch were sober, he would not have known this. Spiders did not exist in Panem, having been wiped away as a side effect of the Capitol's genetic tests.
`` They do n't? They were?'' asked Haymitch.
Well, are spiders mentioned in any of the books?
`` I... Uh, do n't think so...'' Haymitch said to nothing, `` Not sure, though.''
I'm not gon na actually look this stuff up, so until someone pulls out a quote about a spider, they do n't exist in Panem. Just deal.
Oh, except this one. It's from District 13, and it's highly radioactive. Now, run along and make the others conveniently aware of that fact.
`` O... Okay,'' said Haymitch, now very confused and uncertain of whom he was even talking to.
Meanwhile during this conversation between Haymitch and your intrepid narrator, Effie and Peeta had rushed to Katniss's side. Haymitch now did the same.
`` It's a conv- it's a spider, a radioactive spider conveniently from District 13,'' he said.
The fuck dude, I said to make them conveniently aware of it, not that it was convenient itself.
`` Sorry,'' mumbled Haymitch, `` I'be drumk.''
Whatever, shove off Haymitch, I'm done with you now.
Peeta's eyes had opened wide when the radioactive spider was mentioned.
`` Oh my God, shit, oh my President Snow, Katniss! You're gon na have *superpowers* now.''
Effie was confused by the whole ordeal.
`` Why do you say that, Peeta?''
`` I... I do n't know,'' the boy replied, looking just as confused as the woman. What had happened was that he'd broken the fourth wall open so wide that he'd become momentarily aware of the Spiderman universe.
Unfortunately, they did not live in the Spiderman universe. They did n't even live in a universe with a significant number of spiders. So, no one was prepared for what actually happened. As the poison coursed through her veins and reached her heart, Katniss dropped dead on the train.
The locomotive was immediately sent back to pick up District 12's runner-up female tribute, Primrose Everdeen.
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[ FF ] A Friend In Need . ( Contest )
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Small beads of sweat slowly dripped down his brow, sneaking into his eye and blinding him for a moment. He wiped it all away with the back of his hand. Everything rode on this one moment. It had been years since he was given an opportunity like this, one last chance to turn his life around. He couldn ’ t let it go, not without a fight. He struggled to find his solution though. So far, every source had given him conflicting information. They spoke opposites to him and only served to further his dire confusion.
Anthony looked at the man across from him. He sat coolly in the chair, watching his every move and waiting, always waiting. The gray hairs on his head, each one delicately put into place by some distant steady hand, seemed to paint his dreadful character with wisdom. Maybe he was just thinking of those old movie clichés or maybe it was the way he stared but Anthony could tell he had the answer. And the people. Those were the worst of all. It seemed as if millions of focused eyes watched him like rays of sunlight through a magnifying glass. He couldn ’ t escape they ’ re gaze. Or, just maybe he could.
Anthony knew there was still an out, one last ditch attempt to win his war. The man across from him finally spoke. His words sounded fake, superficial, bordering on patronizing.
“ Well Mr. Graves, what would you like to do now? ”
There it was. The real question he had never been able to escape his whole life. He couldn ’ t find an answer in his past. That was a different man then the one who sat here. He couldn ’ t find a hint in the dully blinking glint of the eyes in the crowd. There was nothing from the man who held the cards. Anthony realized that it was his turn to answer, his last chance to get it right. He looked the man in the eye and said, “ I ’ d like to phone a friend. ”
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[ WP ] `` Uggg , not this crap again . ''
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I did n't want it to come back.
I had moved houses, changed my name, and destroyed the toilet. Yet, it had found me.
I was a good man. A good man who was too `` arrogant'' and `` sexy'' to get with a woman. I did n't deserve this. I treated everyone the same and I never tipped under 4 %.
I stared at it again, reaching for my plunger. It cost me over a thousand dollars ( that extra penny always sets me over! ) and it was said to be the best on the market. I could only hope, with a desperate prayer, that it would be enough. `` Ugh, not this *crap* again.''
I lunged towards my porcelain throne. I lifted the toilet seat and proclaimed, `` *THIS CRAP WILL RUE THIS DAY. FREAKING RUE THIS DAY! *'' I plunged with all my might, listening to the squirting sound it made with great, ferocious pleasure, reveling in how utterly masculine I felt. ( After all, only males... excrete. ) My drain would become unclogged. The feces - pardon my crude manner - would go to sewage and be destroyed.
It was my last hope, this plunger, this attempt. Without it, I would give up hope. I needed this to happen. I know I could do it.
When my arms hurt, I took my plunger out. I stared at my plunger, then at my feces. I decided that now I could try flushing it. I reached for the knob and pulled it.
It did n't work.
There was only one thing left to do - grab it using a plastic bag as if I was a dog. A mere dog, one that I had adopted, out of the goodness of my heart, from an animal shelter that was giving it five days to live. So I took it and I felt my hands wrap around my crap - it does n't deserve to be addressed formally at this point - before pulling the bag up.
Safe.
I ran out to the old burning grounds. I ran seventeen miles in only forty-five minutes, not that I ran much, because I was too busy stroking my neckbeard to do anything physical. I dropped the bag, where the crap was fighting the plastic. I took my lighter from my pocket ( would you like a smoke, m'lady? ), light it, and hoped that the light would stay long enough for it start burning.
It did n't. So I walked over, picked up my lighter, turned the lighter on again, and touched it to the bag.
*Burn, * I thought.
And I began the long walk home.
I could only hope that it was enough for the crap to never show up again.
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[ WP ] In an alternate world , a well-functioning society of zombies face an outbreak of humans .
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My first thought was that why don ’ t they talk to me anymore.
It had been two days since I encountered the human, he sprayed me with some fluid and then he ran. I have never seen anybody run so fast in my life. He ran straight over to the ruins and climbed. I think that ’ s the word. Yes climbed or moved up to the top. I admit I tried to follow him, he smelled so good, almost like I could taste his flesh on my tongue.
Then came the silence, I could not hear the others anymore. It was like they all decided to not speak to me. Cut from the herd. When I found them I could see they were talking to each other, but I could not hear. I panicked and walked away, maybe I could find another herd that would take me in.
I walked until my legs felt heavy, that was new. My legs never feel heavy. I stopped and looked around, I was aware of something now. It is hard to describe. You know that we see the world in shadow and light. But now there were other types of light, a dull kind of light. It was beautiful. And then I cough his scent again. The human, he was standing by an old ruins, and then I saw more of them, the hunger was growing but also the panic. They would kill me.
Suddenly started running towards me, pushing me down and put something over my head. I could hear talking now. Not like the heard but sounds and I heard myself making high pitched sounds.
The next thing I remember was waking up, and memories of things. Like I had just done them again and again, I tried to get up and managed surprisingly quickly to stand. The room was strange to. Made out of rock, but made smaller by metal bars. There were bars all around me. Just outside the bar was a soft shiny thing. It drew my attention and moved towards it. I saw a human approaching, a woman but I could not smell her. She was wearing a grey dress; I looked down and noticed I had the same dress. She looked almost like me, just more human. I tried to look for the other humans. Why would they leave me with her? I could still smell them but they must have left because the scent was weaker.
I must have fallen to sleep again, but when I woke up I saw a bowl with food and a bottle of water. It took me two tries to open it but danm did it feel good to taste water on my lips. The food was to raw for me so I pushed it outside the cell. I would kill for some bread now. It was almost as they could read my mind. Because the door open and the most beautiful man I have ever seen said “ I brought you some bread. I hope you ’ re hungry. ” I guess this quarantine wont be so bad with men like him around.
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[ WP ] You have extremely powerful photographic memory , and you 've been working for the NSA for ten years now . Meeting new people gets pretty awkward when you know the entirety of their search history by heart ...
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`` Hi there what can I get you?''
*Clarence Everdeen, Eighteen, current Barbie Doll forum administrator. *
`` Excuse me, sir?''
`` Oh, I ah- yes, umm... One number 12 large please and a diet coke thanks.''
*A diet coke. A shipping pallet of Diet Coke goes for five hundred dollars. Clarence would know, his frequent shipments of the stuff would leave any dentist in shock. *
*My entertainment for this afternoon is my newfound chase for romance. Mixing a family and years of restricted information never worked out. *
You've been matched.
*A success. *
*Kelly Baldwin. Blonde, Thirty Two. Garnier Bright Copper Shade, naturally a Blonde, ashamed of her stereotype. *
*Cheated on her last man David Patterson; who would've thought that a Janitor could woo-over an HR Management Team Leader. *
*I take a bite of my burger*
Declined.
*I never liked those who hide things. *
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[ WP ] You lay dying of heart failure , and God enters your mind . He informs you that you will be reincarnated upon death , losing all memory , but before that happens you are allowed to ask any one question . The answer to your question surprises you so much that your heart restarts and you survive .
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Rules of euclid is being broken right before Ian's eyes. The structures of space and time than Ian took for granted is no longer there. The fundamental axioms of logic has is vanishing from his mind. With his last remaining consciousness he tries to go back to the familiar. GASP!. He is back in the ambulance, with the familiar feeling of the inertia of the vehicle. But his body lacks the structure to hold his organs and they are moving freely inside him under the influence of the accelerating ambulance. The pain is too much and the exhaustion is overwhelming. His body is begging him to go back, back to the strange.He closes his eyes, running from the light and into the dark. With all feelings vanishing, will had to vanish first, then came pain and it was followed by all the other familiar feelings. Only thing was remaining was an unnamed feeling he never felt before. After that nothingness.
Gasp! He opens his eyes and and all structures of the perceived universe is back. He remembers everything but what he felt at the very end. He looks around in the familiar structure but it is not the ambulance. It is a white room which occupies only a woman and a chair.
`` Hello. How are you?'' The woman says
`` What?'' Ian squeezes out a word
`` Haha, off-course you are shit. I was just asking a rhetorical question, you know, to break the ice. I mean heart failures, death, god and all the other bullshits makes pretty shit conversation frankly.''
`` God?'' Ian struggles again.
`` Yea, I'm a God. What a woman ca n't be a god. I mean this being 21st century, I would think that you would be less of a fucking sexist. You must be one of those crazy creationists''
There is a silence where Ian is still confused and petrified of the being sitting in front of him.
`` I was just pulling your leg, i really do n't have a gender. But trust me, you are alone for a infinity amount of time, having a woman's body is a lot better. You really missed out on that brother.''
`` Getting right down to business, you have the opportunity of literally a lifetime my friend. You get to ask me any question you like.''
There is another silence and Ian is still unresponsive. The woman looks frustrated and rubbing the bridge of her nose she says, `` Dude, you have to chill out. You get to live out another life, alright. You will get to be a baby and get ass wiped by other people. Now ask me the question already!''
Ian gathers enough energy and asks, `` What is the meaning of life?''
The woman exhales and is smiling frantically.She exclaims, `` Oh! I was hoping you would say that. Ready.''
`` yes''
`` life was actually a massive joke and the punchline is,'Do n't forget the cookies'''
Ian looks perplexed and he spurts out,'' I do n't get it''
The woman, `` Do n't you get it; do n't forget the cookies. I mean your life, universe and everything, remember Ian, come on.''
Ian states,'' It just does n't make sense. Explain it to me.''
The woman replies,'' I ca n't just explain to you. If i could why would i have created this entire universe, you cunt muscle.''
She continues, `` You will just have to live your life again''
She gets up and reveals that the seat she has been seating on is actually a toilet seat.
`` Come here and put your head down this toilet.''
I
an struggles again,'' What?''
She teleports herself behind Ian and drags him to the toilet seat. She proceed to shove him down it. There Ian was with his head down the toilet. He felt his head being squeezed by wet spongy flesh. The structures of the perceived universe began fade once more. He started feeling the that feeling again. He also started feeling his entire body being compressed by a spongy material.
In this last moments he returned to,'Do n't forget the cookies.' This was it he thought, everything was for this and everything is again is going to come to this. Then he got it. He opened his eyes inside the water that was at the bottom the toilet seat. He started laughing frantically inside it. The woman pulled him out with a jerk.
Gasp! He woke inside the hospital and he burst out laughing. His wife was sitting by him. She was stunned.
She shouted, `` Doctor! Reggie! Doctor!''
Ian started laughing and moving in a hysterical fashion. The doctor came and after seeing that his behaviour decided to sedate him so he does n't harm himself any further.
Ian woke up giggling and next to him he sees his wife and his son sitting by him.
His wife surprised at first, responds, `` Ian, I am so glad you are alright. It's a miracle.''
He continues laughing and says, `` Mandy you are absolutely going love this.''
The wife looks at her teenage son and they exchange worried look. She asks, `` what's so funny honey?''
Ian responds still laughing, ``'What's so funny honey?' Classic. You have to wait, you will spill your guts out laughing.''
The wife, worried, speaks,'' I do n't....I do n't understand.''
Ian continues to laugh. He stops after noticing that his family look worried. He holds in his laughter until his face goes red. He slowly enunciates the words, `` I am thirsty'' trying not to laugh.
His wife says, `` Reggie, go get your father some milk and also get the doctor.''
Now, Ian shaking, with his mouth trembling takes a big gulp and inhales. He asks his wife,'' Is n't Reggie forgetting something, Honey''
His wife looks at Ian and his wide eyed expression. She asks, `` What honey?''
He exhales slowly and after closing his eyes for a moment to maintain composure. He asks, `` I do n't know, something.''
His wife smiles and shouts, `` Reggie!''
His son replies, `` Yes mum!''
Ian is sitting there, where his entire body is in a state pre-orgasmic state of anticipation.
His wife, `` Well i just wanted to tell you something.''
His son replies, `` Well go on.''
Ian closes his eyes and tucked himself flat in between the bed and hospital quilt. He waited for the simple four words to spoken by his wife as he ponders the divine joke.
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[ WP ] You turn on the news . There 's a story about someone being brutally and publicly murdered . DNA testing has confirmed the victim is you .
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I knew I would be dead before the end of today. It all started with oversleeping, followed by my toothpaste running out and my milk having gone from perfect to sour overnight. Caffeine levels running low, questionable oral hygiene and a missed bus. My boss picked and nibbled between the excuses as if he was at a buffet, savouring one and sampling another before deciding he really enjoyed the first one and wanted to return to that. No, I did n't get fired. That would have made life too easy for me; the quick way out. No more pain, no more misery, one quick word and then it's all gone and I can walk off on my own way. A poorer man for what I've lost but nonetheless a free man.
I made sure that my phone was well hidden during work that day. It's not that I'm slacking off, I just enjoy having the news playing whilst I churn through tedious and uncomplicated work. On a good day I would n't be so worried anyone would see but given that I could hear the thin ice cracking underneath me I made sure to keep it discrete today. The news basically loops itself every twenty minutes or so, changing ever so slightly as stories update or break. I was a few hours into work and feeling the grumble in my stomach, every office workers habit-bred signal to indicate that it's almost time to stop working, when the news broke.
Murder in the high street. Shaky phone footage had already been uploaded to the internet of a crazed man beating a motionless body on the floor with a baseball bat. The man is shouting loud enough to be heard over the gasps and jeering from onlookers.
`` I've killed you! I've killed you all!'' he screams as he brings the bat and splatters the pavement.
It was tempting to turn over to something else but they cut back to the studio fairly quickly and calmly said that the man was remanded into custody and is expected to be charged with first degree murder. I took a few moments to myself before I continued working, echoes of the violence spasming in my mind. The news reached the end of its rotation segment and was half a minute from cutting to a break when the reported halted mid-flow and declared that the murdered victim had been identified. I glanced down to where my phone was hidden as they brought up a Facebook profile and read out his name, explained his job position and I'm not sure what else because I'd stopped listening. My Facebook profile. My name. My job title. My life stared out at me from my phone's screen as the reporter promised to update on funeral arrangements for the murdered victim. And cut to a break.
Time stretched, dilated and twisted itself around in a treacle stain that I lost track of. My desk became the office bathroom. Whose vomit was that on the toilet? Someone's face asked out of the toilet bowl if I was feeling fine and somewhere I found it in me to say I was feeling ill. Only now I was talking to a bus driver who was telling me that he does n't care how I'm feeling, it's $ 1.40 for a ticket or I walk. I look to find my wallet and when my fingers come up empty the bus is gone and I've walked half way home. I try and bring my hands up to my face, trying to make out the swirls and resolve them into fingers. I need to focus, how many fingers do I have. Three fingers. No, seven fingers and a cat. Come on, I know I'm meant to have ten. One…two…door handle. I'm home. I was still trying to bring myself out of shock when a single word screamed behind me did it for me.
`` You!''
I turned around, my spine freezing over and mind painfully crystal clear as the crazed man stood on the other side of the road, pointing at me and screaming.
`` I killed you! I killed you all!''
He ran at me, a bloodied hammer in his hand. The gap closed and I did nothing, my feet rooted. He was swinging for my face when a large blur knocked into him from the side. I realised that it was not one blur but two, both of them in matching blue uniforms. I forgot how to breathe and took a painful series of forced inhales and exhales my heart threatened to burst in my head. They finished handcuffing the man and they struggled to life him up. I wanted to thank the police, but I could n't think of the words to say. Then I could n't think of any words at all.
I looked at myself, both of my selves, as they dragged the man away from me. An unmarked van drove up and the driver and passenger got out. The passenger gave me a wave and I found that I was waving back to myself. I watched myself open up the van and bundle the screaming man towards it where more of me reached out from the inside and dragged him towards them. The doors closed and I got back into the van and drove off at high speed.
`` Yes, that one was quite a close call, was n't it?'' My voice said from next to me. I looked at myself, standing fairly calmly and a little pensively watching the van disappear into the distance.
I finally remembered at least one word I had learned in my entire life, `` Me?''
`` Yes, me. And you. And us I suppose. But I prefer just being'I'.'' I took out a notepad from my top pocket and scribbled a number onto it in my handwriting, `` This is if you ever want to get in contact with us again. It's bad enough we lost you in the first place, so let's try and avoid any accidents happening again.''
I looked at the piece of paper, dumbstruck and unmoving.
I sighed and gave what appeared to be an over-simplified explanation to myself, `` There was a big event recently that caused several collectives involved to suffer fractures. I fought hard to kept it together but nonetheless a few minds were permanently lost. I tracked you down as fast as I could but it seems like several other lost minds from the Harper collective started to break down and go insane and try killing every mind they saw.
`` Do n't worry, I'll treat him right. Hand him back to the minds still connected to the Harper collective where he will either merge back in or…well, become permanently disconnected. But as for you, well, unfortunately the fracture has permanently disconnected you already. But still, if you ever need help I still recognise you as a mind.''
I took the note, as I suddenly remember something and reached into my pocket.
`` Oh yes, I thought that you'd forget your house key at work so I went to the locksmith to get a new one cut. It's a good thing you're such a frequent visitor, all I had to do was turn up and they started making one for me. Seems like you have n't diverged so much yet since you disconnected. Still, it's only a matter of time. It always is.'' I sighed regretfully, dropped the key into my hand and walked away. A police car drew up, I think the two driving it were the ones who had taken down the man at the last moment.
I watched myself drive away. Thoughts of I, me and my swirled around my head like a snowflake caught in the wind and forcibly dragged away from the main drife; lost, and singular.
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[ WP ] You are dog . It is your mission to faithfully guard your poor , stupid , two-legged pack-mates from the horrors of the mailman , the dog next door , and men with hats . Describe your vigil .
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My first time posting on here - but I really loved this prompt so much. Here it goes!: )
I swore to myself that I have a sole purpose in this house: Protection. And to try my best not to pee on the rug again. But mainly protection. I love my two-legged human pack-mates very much. But they are too stupid and defenceless against those rat-bastards out there.
The most troublesome time is when we ’ re on the move. I guess it ’ s my fault really for falling their tricks of high-pitched yelps of “ walkies ” and the jangling of the lead. At least sometimes I get to poop. Nevertheless, I must stay on guard. From whom you may ask? Well, the other two-legged non-pack-mate humans. Especially the ones that wear hats. I KNOW YOU ’ RE HIDING SOMETHING UNDER THERE. My apologies. I don ’ t trust them too much.
Then there ’ s that black lab next door. He seems nice and friendly at first. I know his game. Plays cute with my human pack-mates and gets away with it. THEY ’ RE MINE. I saw him crawl under the fence one time and took a shit right on the back garden patio. Framing me, the sly bastard. I know not to shit there. I still got blamed for it. I've been observing his human pack-mates ’ doings: what time they ’ re away, when he ’ s inside etc. I ’ ll get him back soon.
Of course, I save the best for last. There ’ s him. That shady son-of-a-bitch. I see him EVERY SINGLE DAY… except Sundays. I always wondered why. Anyway, he is the most villainous cretin I've had the misfortune to take even the smallest whiff of. He smells like a pure terror that I must never allow to step foot in my human pack-mate ’ s most humble abode. He is the most absolute sanctimonious evildoer I know.
I mentioned I don ’ t get along with the black lab next door but even he can ’ t stand the wretched swine. He comes swanning down the street with his shorts and shoes – the bastard even wears a fucking hat – thinking he ’ s THE shit and no one can touch him. I know he ’ s afraid of me. You want to know why? Well, the moment he steps on to our land with his grubby little feet I bark with the utmost ferocity I can muster. That freaky slime can barely make it to the front door without avoiding my gaze. Presumably, the bastard gets right up to the door, to barge in and kill everyone, but wusses out at the last second, dropping some letters in the door. I thought these were some kind of communication attempts of a sort. I ’ d eat them at first, but it seemed like the human pack-mates actually want these things? I don ’ t get it. Well, if you want them, have them.
My personal message to you, you scummy freak. Pray to the Gods that I never happen to be on the front lawn when you step foot on my land.
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[ WP ] You lead a small human fleet out to the edge of the solar system to respond to an alien threat , you find that the alien 's technology is neither superior or inferior to humans , only different .
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They used the wrong fucking units.
100 AU away from the nearest welding shop, a peaceful alien armada in front of the Pan-Terran Diplomatic vessel. Sheila Golding, official representative of the PTO, with dual PhDs in mechanical engineering and cultural affairs, one hand on a handle hovering in front of the observation window, slowly turned her head to the pilot. The pilot, some hotshot former LEO test pilot far over-qualified to bring a lumbering ship like this out to the boring outer solar system, looked back and gulped.
The Terran vessel's docking proboscis was extended uselessly about 20 metres forward in the direction of the alien armada, which sat with zero relative motion, the nearest ships about 80 metres away.
`` Huh. Their docking ports are all definitely about 1/3 the size of ours.''
The pilot made pointing motions at each of the ships in the armada as he said this. Diplomat Golding rubbed her temples with one hand.
`` And, just confirm to me, so I do n't think I'm actually going insane here, which company made our docking ports?''
The ship engineer floated into view between them, a burly woman.
`` I already sent a memo back to Earth with the down-lo. Going to be a 24 hour turn around time at least.''
The engineer opened one of those half-liquid, half-solid food packets and started slurping it down while pressing her nose against the window. The diplomat had gotten sick of that food while they were still training for this mission, 8 months ago.
`` Oh yeah, sorry, I did check already tho. Docking ports were made by a company called Aerospace U S A dot com. Yeah, fully spelled out like that. They're based in the Seceded States. You know, the only place left on Terra that still does n't use metric. So, I think it may be pretty obvious what the problem is here.''
The pilot moved his hand to a control.
`` Should I... put it away? We already stuck it out there; I'm not sure if that would look bad.''
The Diplomat sighed and waved `` no'' at him.
The Engineer's voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone.
`` Say, do you think you could work some of your magic and convince them aliens they sent us the wrong instructions?''
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[ WP ] Write a story in several parts that are all describing the same event but from the point of view of a different person for each
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Sgt. Toran waited his whole career for this moment. His time to shine, he could hear the foot steps down the hallway as he waited in ambush. He knew he had at least four more minutes before the swat team arrived. Images of new stories detailing his bravery rushed through his head as he tighten his grip on the shotgun he brandished. Pulling the butt to his shoulder the foot steps nearing his location he knew this was his big break. American hero. His mind wanders as he started mentally writing the speech he was going to give to the media. `` Taking a life is never easy no matter what, no matter how bad the individual is...''. He turned the corner, shotgun raised and pulled the trigger.
Dustin laid flat on the floor as he heard the foot steps pass down the hall. In front of his door they stopped. Tightly shutting his eyes he racked his brain to try and recall if he had locked the door or not. Fighting back tears he held his breath remaining perfectly still and silent. The foot steps started again and Dustin opened his eyes. Ten seconds had passed according to his watch but it had felt like forever. As the foot steps grew distant his panic started to lift. Safe for now, but not out of the woods yet.
D.J. reached into his jacket pocket retrieving his pistol. His hardened face stone cold as the foot steps passed his door. A long life of crime and heartbreak had made him into the person he was today. Ready to die, D.J. saw his chance to make peace with himself as he checked the gun and turned off the safety stepping into the hallway. He raised the gun as he entered the hallway looking down the sights. `` Today's not your day pal!'' he shouted as he squeezed the trigger.
Kyle's hands shook as he fumbled another clip into his rifle. Sweat poured down his face as he realized there was no turning back now. Things had n't gone as planned and now he was trapped. Was life in prison worse than death? Would the cops shoot before he had a chance to surrender? He headed down the hallway towards the exit with no expectations of making it out alive.
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[ WP ] The New Gold Rush
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`` Do n't touch it.''
`` Touch what?''
`` You know what. I can see it, you're going to go over and touch it. And you are n't ready for it.''
`` And what makes you capable of deciding who is and is not ready to touch it?''
`` Christ!'' exclaimed Bolland, before muttering to himself `` If Kennedy could have heard this conversation he'd cancel the fucking space program before he ever started it, I swear.''
`` Come on Bolland, I'm just looking for a good reason as to why I should n't touch the stuff. You've done it, and you're doing just fine. I just do n't see the harm.''
`` Well hotshot, it seems you've just answered your own question. The fact that I've touched the stuff and you have n't is exactly what qualifies me to prevent you from touching it. We both know the consequences of touching it before you're ready, and Gibbons, you're a lot of things, but ready ai n't one of them. Be patient kid. When its time, you'll know.''
`` How do you know it is n't time now?''
`` Because it is n't.'' Bolland replied, uncharacteristically stern. `` This conversation is getting on my last nerves. Lets just climb into the cockpit and get out of here, alright?''
Bolland and Gibbons sealed the lower hatch of the ship, completed their final exterior safety check, and climbed onboard where the remaining crew waited, collectively exasperated. While Gibbons sealed the hull of the ship, Freedman, Bolland's second in command, shouted at the pair through the intercom `` Lem me guess, the kid tried to touch the shit again.''
Bolland chuckled, and glanced back at Gibbons, who was removing his helmet and oxygen tank. `` Take it easy on the kid. You remember what it was like on your first few trips.'' Quickly, Bolland pulled himself up towards the cockpit, bemused at his consistent inability to look graceful in zero gravity. Gibbons followed, and sealed the door behind them. Before settling in, Bolland addressed his entire crew. `` I'll avoid telling you all how good of a job you've done, since we all know there was really no choice in the matter. But nevertheless, it seems the crew of Apollo 74 has quite the act to follow next month. Lets get this load home boys. Gibbons, you're flying co-pilot, Freedman, you'll navigate, Shea and Smith, you'll handle comms. Kuburt will run defense, per usual. This time tomorrow, we'll all be kicking back on the beach with a drink in one hand and a radiation siphon in the other.''
Each member of the crew took his respective position. Their ship, a Boeing SC-0810 was hardly the jewel of the NASA fleet, but its reputation preceded it. Of the 50 Apollo missions for which harvesting was the objective, the SC-0180 had run 35, each of which had yielded record crops and, more importantly, no casualties. Most of the crews took to calling the SC-0180 Bertha, a name that suited the stout, seemingly indestructible ship. As far as Bolland was concerned, Bertha was the pinnacle of human engineering, but the general consensus back on Earth regarding the SC-0180 was that it had been surpassed technologically several times by other ships in the NASA fleet, and she would soon join her predecessors in the Smithsonian.
Bolland and Gibbons settled into their pilot's chairs, and began to prepare for lift off. Gibbons wiped a bead of sweat off his brow, before reaching for a switch labeled `` radar transceiver'' which, while accurately describing the purpose of the device the switch was attached to, was in no way an accurate explanation for the way this particular piece of equipment functioned. A screen directly above Gibbons lit up, and filled with small green specks the shade of which indicated known satellites, stations, and other assorted space junk which populated the expanse between the moon and the earth.
`` I could have told you that there were n't going to be any out there,'' Bolland announced `` all you had to do was ask.''
Gibbons fidgeted with a knob near Bolland's right knee, `` I know I could have asked, I just prefer to know for myself.''
`` Fair enough, but if you ever want to be exposed, there's something you have to get through your head.''
`` What's that? Something about knowing and understanding being different things?.''
`` No kid, not even close. You're sitting here talking about wanting to know for yourself whether there were any Soviets or Brits out there waiting to ambush us and steal our load, but the truth is even after you're exposed you never really know anything. Hell, even that old radar contraption you rely on does n't let you know. The universe is n't some dusty old novel that you can flip to the end of to figure out if the journey interests you, its a maze that we're all working together on constructing, whether we like it or not.''
Gibbons stared out the glass at the front of the cockpit, facing the entrance to the mine that he and the rest of the crew just finished working in. `` Sorry Captain.''
Bolland nodded, and began the engine's startup process. `` Why do n't you take us home Gibbons, I'll tell you a story to pass the time.'' Gibbons sheepishly took control of the ship, and guided it away from the moon's surface, before turning to find Earth glowing in the distance. After confirming that communications and defense were functioning, and ensuring that Freedman had n't fallen asleep in the navigator's chair, Gibbons eased Bertha on towards the gleaming ball of rock in the distance.
( Part 1/2 )
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[ WP ] Finally . After years of searching you found him . He 'd been hiding for so long you had almost given up . The first thing you say is his name . `` Waldo . ''
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^ ( Disclaimer: This turned into more of a *Black Mirror* fanfic than I'd at first thought )
`` Yaaaaah, I'm Waldoo*ooo*, **ehhhh! **''
`` I'm running fo' **President of th' world, ** mun, ***SECOND TIME***!''
`` Get out dem apps and dose votah IDs, cause I'm bangin', mun!''
Waldo is love. Waldo is life.
The clocks strike bangamash hour, and I'm waiting to cast my vote for Waldo again. I've been voting for Waldo since I was only a wee kid. *All the otha fuckhas pale in comparision*, after all, as Waldo says.
Waldo is love. Waldo is life.
Around the corner stands a mobile chippy. I get my Waldo blue rare double deckah as I pass by. Fifteen million merits, bruv. Bit on the pricey side, but it's for Waldo. Got ta make'em work for their credits so that they can have good things, innit?
Waldo's on the screens again, asking us why we ignorin' him. We're not. We shout at the screens: `` Yo Waldo! We ai n't ignoring you! We here for you, blud!''
*White bear/Blue bear*... where does *that* come from?
Bing's on the screens, now, telling us how things suck, Waldo sucks -- about how he's going to kill himself if we do n't get our act straight.
The response is unanimous: `` Fuck yeeee's, you cunt!''
Tomatoes are thrown, Bing disappears. We hope to Waldo he actually kills himself this time. We've seen enough of the cunt. We know who he is. He wrote *The Theory and Practice of Oligarchical Collectivism*. There is nothing to be loved in him.
We travel on. On to the voting booths.
My blue rare double deckah ends up in the bin. Pretending is n't good enough. I died a long time ago. Waldo told me he needed me. That's why I'm here. I left enough traces on social media to be accurate down to the shock response.
Waldo gave me life.
Waldo gave me love.
My girlfriend walks alongside me. She was signed up after I was. She's not perfect, but I know I love her. We're tied to each other.
*White bear/Blue bear*... where *does* that come from?
Bing's face drips crushed tomato on the next corner, and I spot someone.
White sweater, red hoops. Glasses. Jeans.
An image flashes by my eyes. I redo a memory from the cloud backup of the previous me's grain.
It's a video of me finishing a jigsaw puzzle.
Once I'm done: my mum asks me if I can'find Wally'.
`` Find Wally.'' says the media centre. `` Did you mean: Find Waldo?''
`` Yes,'' my mum says, `` Find Waldo.''
The HUD lights up in my eyes.
I walk up to the man. He stands ashen-faced, watching the blue bear on the screens.
*White bear/Blue bear*... *where* does that come from?
`` Waldo.'' I say.
`` That's me.'' he replies. `` At least, it is if you're from across the pond.''
`` This is not about you.''
`` I know,'' he says, `` I wish it were.''
-- --
I cut this off half way.
I might've devoured too much *Black Mirror* too quick after *years* of not having tv. If you have n't watched it already, this might seem like a load of nonsense. If you have, this might make sense.
Also: posting from phone, sorry for any and all mistakes.
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