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[ WP ] A woman , in her early 30 's , is in a terrible car accident and is alive in her thoughts . She 's in a coma/paralyzed , and the doctors are discussing what to do with this 'braindead vegetable ' - she is far from it .
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Where am I? The hospital? I think I am. It's all so clean and sparkly, much better than I could ever get the house to be.
*I want to go home*
Maybe I'll just get up, I've been resting long enough. Geoff is probably worried. Wait, I ca n't... I ca n't move. I... Where's Geoff? Was n't he in the car with me. What car? The car we were in, before it all went black.
*It hurts to breathe*
I want my Geoff. I'm scared. Please, I want my Geoff. Anyone? Please! I... Who are they? Do they know where Geoff is? Excuse me! I want to talk, but I ca n't move my mouth.
`` Is she stable, Doctor?''
`` For now, but her situation will soon decline. We need to contact her next of kin. I do n't think she'll make it through the night.''
*Oh God. Oh God no*
`` Her husband was in the car with her. Dr. Montue just informed me that the patient died 5 minutes ago.''
`` Contact her parents then.''
`` Right away.''
Oh God Geoff. No, no, no, sweety no. Oh God. I want to cry. I ca n't do anything. I CA N'T DO ANYTHING. HELP ME. PLEASE!
*I'm going to die*
We were just coming home. It was meant to be special. It's our anniversary. He ca n't be dead. I ca n't die. This is n't fair. I just want to hold him. Oh God.
`` Doctor, her parents are on the phone.''
`` Hello, this is Dr. Moretz. I... yes, but I'm afraid that... No, he passed away a few minutes ago. No, I... I understand. Listen, did your daughter have any specific requests when it came to a situation like this? She... okay, okay. She did? Can you please bring it in written form? Yes, I understand. We are doing everything we can, but it's touch and go. Please bring her requests when you arrive. You live near? Hurry, please.''
`` What is it, Doctor?''
`` The patient had specific requests when it came to being in a vegetative state. Her parents are bringing the written request.''
Oh... No, please. I was young and stupid and invincible when I wrote that. You ca n't do this! I'm not ready. I want to live. I want Geoff. I want to go back in time. We'll stay in, okay? We'll stay in and watch a movie. I do n't want to die. This is all my fault.
*They're here*
`` Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford, your daughter is here. Have you got the request? It must be honoured promptly.''
`` Oh honey! Oh my baby girl! Oh please, please...''
*Mum*
`` Do you have to, Doctor? Ca n't... ca n't you wait a while longer?''
*Dad*
`` I'm sorry, Mr. Rutherford. If the patient has been specific about these circumstances then we must take them seriously.''
I DID N'T THINK IT WOULD HAPPEN! PLEASE! OH GOD NO!
`` Oh baby, oh God please do n't take my baby!''
*Help me, mum*
`` Stacey, leave her. Stace... Stacey come here. I...''
*Dad, please*
The doctor is coming over. No, leave me alone. I'm not ready. I do n't want to die. I ca n't.
*He's reaching for the plug*
`` Goodbye... sweety.''
No, please. Mummy, pleas-
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[ WP ] A man awakens without any memory , completely alone , on a hot sunny day on the deck of a mid-sized sloop in the middle of an ocean . On his wrist he sees a simple tattoo bearing the text `` REMEMBER : 3112 . ''
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A set of gulls perched on the mast cried out incessantly. Each call made my head pound in protest, and I gave a primal roar, hoping to frighten the pests away. It did n't work; instead, more seagulls seemed to join them.
I slowly became aware of the bright sun beating down on me, and the uncomfortable wooden surface beneath me that had tied my back into knots while I slept. I opened my eyes into a squint, trying to figure out where I was. All I could see was blue. It took a few moments of rubbing my eyelids and blinking to realize that I was in the middle of the ocean, though the salty smell of the air now made a lot more sense.
The shop bobbed gently in the ocean waves. I managed to stand, though I did n't quite have my sea legs yet. The gulls on the mast watched with amusement in their beady little eyes. The ship itself was absolutely beautiful. Being from Kansas, I really did n't know much about sailing or ships, but everything was sparkling clean and white except for the teak deck underfoot. The cabin had expensive furnishings, including a nice soft bed ( which really made me wonder why I'd chosen to sleep outside instead of in here ). The galley kitchen was stocked full of supplies, and it looked like nothing had really been opened yet. And weirdest of all, there was *no one* else on board. Nor any sign of anyone else ever having been on board.
I walked back out onto the desk and climbed the mast, looking for any sign of land. Nothing, of course. *Had* there been anyone on board? tried to remember, and came up blank. I could n't even remember how *I'd* gotten aboard. So I went further back and *still* found nothing. I could n't remember *anything*. Yet I knew all about myself: my name as Andrea; I'm from Wichita, Kansas; I'm a physicist... and yet for each fact, I could n't remember anyone ever calling me Andrea, my house in Wichita, who I worked for, or even what my field was.
I went back into the cabin and sat down at the table, already set with plates and forks and napkins like someone was getting a meal ready. None of this made any sense! How the hell did I get onto this damn ship? My head was still pounding, and climbing that mast in the heat really had n't made it any better. I put my elbows up on the table, closed my eyes, and rested my forehead in my palms. Each deep breath of salty air did seem to soothe my headache just a little bit. Finally I was able to open my eyes... and a new mystery was staring me in the face. Tattooed across my wrist was a short message: `` Remember 3112.''
*Awesome. Thanks a lot, Past Me. You bitch. * Why the hell would I *tattoo* a reminder of something on my wrist... and then not even give some explanation of what I was supposed to remember or what those numbers meant. I could n't remember anything of my past but it was readily obvious that I am an inconsiderate scatterbrain.
I headed over to the wheelhouse. Maybe there would be something there about the boat, or where I'd come from. It was brand new and perfectly clean, just like the rest of the boat. The sails were apparently just for show; the dials showed the engine status. Everything seemed to be doing just fine without anyone at the wheel, which was great because I did n't know the first thing about sailing. And I could n't really navigate, given that I had no idea where I was. But I glanced over at the GPS in the corner. It just showed field of blue, though there was one tiny speck of an island marked a bit south of my position. And right before I turned away, I happened to notice the coordinates: the ship was currently at roughly 32 degrees south by 15 degrees west.
It took my mind a bit too long to make the connection, but I blame that on the headache. Finally everything fell into place, and my jaw dropped. Maybe past me was n't so much of a bitch after all. I entered the coordinates into the GPS and heard the engines throb softly for just a second as the rudder adjusted. Let's see what was so important at coordinates 31 south and 12 west that I needed to tattoo it to my wrist.
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[ WP ] When you turned 18 , you found out you can control all cells in your body , and can change your looks , gender , and everything in between . One day you receive a letter from a group called `` The Inquisition '' who explained their purpose is to hunt your kind , and imprison them .
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Five shots. Five shots rang out through the falling apart building. I ran outside and looked down the hall at the officers dressed in bullet proof gear heading into the building. I knew what I had to do, I had to run. It was only a few seconds ago I got the note and the challenge.
Run
That was the last word on the paper. They said that they liked a challenge and that this was all a game. I modified again and using the added muscle fibers I gave myself, I ran. I ran passed the druggies who had bullets in their legs. I ran past the old lady, destroyed from drugs. I ran straight into the, now five, men who stood at the only exit.
The smell of gunpowder shot through the air, but they missed. Nothing could hit me, I was invincible. Or at least I thought I was until one, Apparently, the leader of this little troupe, shot me in the leg. I yelled in pain and had to stop my run, but I calmed down, re-modified my leg, and now was on the run again. A shield appeared in front of my face and I slammed straight into them.
At once I was surrounded. I tried to change my appearance, but it did n't matter, they knew who I was.
`` We got one,'' The leader said into an undercover mic.
He lifted me to my feet and put handcuffs on me. I smiled, changed my face a few times to throw them off. It did n't work, I was trying everything, but they had prepared for everything. Except for the old drug lady coming up behind them with the strength of a beast.
She threw one into the shield man and punched the leader straight in the jaw. She experienced no pain, I knew she must have been one of whatever I was. The note said that there were others. Before I knew it, She had taken care of the small team. She changed her face into one of a man and started to steal the uniform of the leader.
`` Well are you going to help'' He said finding the key and throwing it to me.
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Last words/thoughts of a leader of a failed rebellion .
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My entire, my whole existence has lead up to this. Or has it? Was it really meant to end like this? The tyrant of a ruler still standing in our country. The people are repressed and unhappy. What went wrong? I feel myself being pushed up a stairs as the wood creaked. I felt the rough texture of the rope comfortably fitting every nook on my neck. I recall our last stand as I made the call to give myself up for the sake of the people of rebellion.We were given a choice of being exterminated by the country's army who outnumbered us with arms and men. We had no chance. Or I could surrender myself and my subordinates would survive. I thought to myself `` our cause must not be extinguished'' and I thought I made the right choice by giving myself up.But, my body tells me `` No, you're a complete idiot, what were you thinking?'' as my legs shivered and I shed uncontrollable tears. I thought about my dying mothers last words and how I am unable to fulfill her last request. I've had such short life, I should n't die now. I should not die. But I must. I hear shouting and screaming as I begin to recognize the voices. It was my allies coming to my rescue! Or was it? No, they were being slaughtered in front of me. The king was ridiculing my decision by breaking our promise. I sighed. This is my end. The trapdoor underneath me opens and I fall. I feel the burning sensation on my neck and I ca n't breath. We failed.
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[ WP ] You have the power to build worlds .
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I had left it dormant for far too long. Draped cloths over workbenches and tools, the room silent and dark. When had I last been in here? It was hard for me to recall. I was one of the last, a lowly cleric of the Larsa order. We had given up robes and insignia a long time ago, after the purge.
Words were valued once, before the chattering binary masters came. Primary vehicle of emotions and feelings, abstract glyphs of the human soul made real in other minds. Now most broadcasts and entertainment were stitched together with millimeter precision, `` grown'' from parallel binary minds running adaptive algorithms. Spun and tailored for maximum impact, to harmonize with the prominent zeitgeist of the age.
Not like in the past.
Ideas pushed outward like ripples, cascading on other minds to find root or lie dormant. Crafted for ease of absorption, but not filtered to homogenous banality, stripped of all controversial content. That was what the machines lacked, you see. As adept as they were in providing tailored memes and mimicing popular styles, they never could capture the spark of creativity that was required to create a new branch.
That was my strength.
Lifting the nearest cloth, I pulled it off the waist-high workbench. An older style writing device, a typewriter, lay underneath. Twin reels of inked ribbon shining dully in the mute light. I wanted to start slowly today. Never create in haste, my old master would say, every idea is potent and strong. To unleash a half-formed thought is to undo the universe, as we are nothing but what we perceive, are we not?
Taking the top sheet of cream-colored paper next to the device, I wound it in and slowly began to type.
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[ WP ] Barack , I 'm calling in that favor .
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Agent Jack Black was pinned down by gunfire.
“ Oh mamasita! ” Jack rolled out of cover, spraying his enemies with an uzi. His face was painted in a very Rambo-esque style. He also wore clothing that very much resembled Rambo in First Blood. He pretty much looked like a fatter version of Rambo, but still very much badass.
“ Barack, I ’ m calling in that favor! ” Jack yelled into a satellite phone, bullets whizzing past his head. “ I need an extraction! I took out Justin Bieber but the escape plan has gone to shit! ”
“ Alright Jack. I ’ ll have Air-force One divert towards your location. Godspeed. ” The president ’ s voice was calm and collected over the phone.
Jack threw the phone at a nearby thugs head, knocking him unconscious. “ Looks like I ’ m on my own! ”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack spotted a brilliant figure in a blue dress stumble into his view. It was Vega Caulkcrush, his beautiful companion and field agent, assigned to help him with the mission.
“ Vega! Get out of here! ” Jack motioned for her to flee, noticing how damn sexy she looked in that dress.
“ Jack! ” Vega yelled in a thick accent. “ My cover is blown! They know I ’ m an agent! They tied my arms and sent me out here to distract you! It ’ s a trap Jack! You ’ ve got to… ” Vega ’ s word were cut short by a sniper bullet, piercing her heart. She fell beautifully onto the ground.
“ Vega! ” Jack screamed, throwing his weapon to the ground, going against all the training he had ever received at the agency. Jack ran towards her and stooped low to cradle her in his arms.
“ Looks like you ’ re all played out. ” An ominous voice rasped, coming from a dark corner of the courtyard.
“ Where are you! ” Jack yelled, looking all around, his face flush with anger.
“ I ’ m here. ” A man growled, stepping out of the shadows near Jack.
“ Brown Finger. ” Jack breathed. “ I knew you had some involvement in this! ”
Brown Finger laughed uncontrollably, for a long time. As in, he laughed for so long that all the other thugs who had flooded into the courtyard just stared and looked at each other, as if saying:
“ when is this idiot going to stop laughing? ”. Brown finger stopped laughing.
“ You ’ re surrounded Jack. Give up. ”
“ Wait. ” Jack said, looking up from where he knelt. “ Just one song first. ”
“ No! ” Brown Finger stretched his arm out, trying to stop Jack.
Jack then broke into a beautiful song, wonderful and melodic. It was the greatest song in the world. All the thugs dropped their guns, their eyes glazed over in a stupor. Brown Finger was fixed in a daze, never having heard such a marvelous tune.
“ Come on Vega, we ’ re going home. ” Jack picked up Vega in his arms and cradled her in his grasp. He pulled a cord on his chest and a large balloon shot into the sky, a long cable attached to it. Air-force one flew low overheard, snagging the balloon/cable device in a similar but kind of different way than in the movie “ The Dark Knight ”.
***
Read the creation of Agent Black [ here ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4vpuj7/comment/d60scmy )
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[ WP ] An alien civilization develops on the lush moon orbiting a massive gas giant . For millennia they have looked up at the dozens of other moons of the planet , one in particular , blue with lights on the dark side . Today they send the first space mission to their sister world .
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`` Welcome, Prince Talisti,'' Said the tutor, bowing his head in respect as the crowned boy entered the room, a bundle of books under his arm.
`` Parsak, a pleasure, as always,'' He said, bowing in recognition to the elder, and taking a seat across from him. The tutor smiled- in the years that had accumulated to bring him into his old age, there were precious few of them that had been spent teaching nobles who did not also need a lesson in courtesy. With wrinkled hands, Parsak reached under the table, lifting a large, oblong case into the prince's view.
`` Today,'' He said, undoing each of the clasps, `` We learn of geometric ellipses, young prince. We learn of the gravitational forces of nature that hold us about Gruos, the planet which we circle, and hold each of our sister moons there as well.''
The prince leaned forward as Parsak opened the case, exposing rows of gears and levers, and seventy six orbs held up by wire, all circling a large dot painted into the center. Parsak began turning a crank, and the orbs began to move, each rotating and gliding into orbit, while a calendar flicked past dates.
`` Do you know what happened three hundred years ago, when the great moon of Nolstay approached, young prince?'' Asked Parsak, and continued turning the crank, such that the orb that represented their own moon nearly coincided with the one that represented Nolstay.
`` Of course,'' The prince answered, holding his chin high, `` My ancestrial grandfather built the first sky bridge, two miles above our moon's surface. And he led colonists up the bridge, to where they were able to hop onto the passing moon, until it glided away again.''
`` Precisely, young prince,'' Smiled the tutor, `` Precisely. And every ten years Nolstay passes by again, and the sky bridge joins the worlds just as the moons nearly collide, and our people may wander freely between them. Twenty such moons have been colonized in this way, and your people have prospered greatly from the expansion. New foods have been found, precious metals mines, resources discovered beyond our imagination. *But*,'' he said, holding up one finger, `` there is one jewel that holds your father's eye.''
`` Naoling.'' Whispered the prince, remembering the moon. It was like the others, but they could see it twinkling in the night sky as it passed. And since the creation of the sky bridges, not once had it passed by close enough to board.
`` Precisely. In just ten years time, Naoling passes us by just close enough for us to hop the gap. And for the first time in history, our people will be able to join that world, and colonize its surface. And they will discover the secrets of the lights, and bring them home.''
`` And I,'' said the prince, `` Will lead the expedition.''
***
By Leo
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[ EU ] You are an archeologist , working hundreds of miles from any large city during the Seven Hour War . Explain what happens as you drive back to the city to see what is happening .
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Oh boy, a Half Life 2 prompt! My favorite. I'll try my best.
Sweat beads down my forehead and I promptly wipe it as I groan, crouched down in a large, dusty hole. Around me is several small pots and I chuckle, `` I told the college that there'd be something here...''
**Beep! Beep! ** I glance to my digital wristwatch, and click the small round button on the side. Standing up, I hop up out of the small, dirty hole. Taking a look at myself, I take a deep sigh. The rugid, now brown t-shirt I was wearing is now completely covered in dirt, and my jeans are turning into a blueish brown. Glancing behind myself, I decide to leave my tool in the hole. *Not going to rain any time soon... * I think, walking towards my white truck that's only about 5 yards away.
As I reach the driver's side, I open it up with a grunt, and hop in. It's a small, Ford truck that looks like a pigsty. Loose papers and equipment are scattered about. I hum a meaningless tune and reach for the key that's already in the ignition, and shut the door to my side.
I press the gas pedal down and the truck lurches forward roughly before it smooths out. A bright flash appears over the city in the distance and I squint, staring at it. *It's not sun glare, * I begin to think, *Too blue... * I grip the steering wheel tightly as I continue glancing to the glare in the distance. A sudden explosion ripples out of the glare, causing it to as if expand and make a huge rip in the sky. The shockwave of the explosion pushes my truck roughly to the right and I grunt.
*This is n't good... * I think, *This ca n't be another 9/11 or whatever... * Not paying attention to the road in front of me, I continue to look at the massive rip, and I feel my jaw dropping. Something seems to be coming out... It looks like a giant insect, but it's flying. Moving around, it seems to almost scan the surroundings, before it begins shooting something out of the front of it, causing several buildings to collapse.
I gag at the sight of it, and shakily, I look back to the road in front of my and release my right hand from the steering wheel, turning the radio on.
**'' Please remain calm. Return to the nearest building immediately and await United States Military forces to evacuate city. Please remain calm...'' **
An automated message blares out of the radio, a monotone female voice continuing the same sentences over and over. With a defeated sigh, I look on to the city, wondering what's going on...
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[ WP ] Will Ferrell and John C Reilly return for their third movie together , they 're ...
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In a world
played by silence,
ruled by the mute with an iron fist.
only two people have the courage to rise up
against the voiceless.
one comes from the attic refuge of a retirment home.
one rises from the basement of a summer house.
They first met sharing a love of surfing and laughter,
but now they must come together to fight,
To be heard, not herded.
Staring John C Reilly as Thirsty McThundercunt
And
Will Ferrell as Drownin N Datpussy
And together
They are
Sound Waves!!!
( Cool music plays )
Thirsty McThundercunt - `` What're you gon na do?''
Drownin N Datpussy - `` I'm gon na break the sound barrier.. with my fist!''
( More cool music plays )
- Fade to black
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[ WP ] You wake up on a soft bed with black sheets . Before you stands a man dressed in yellow . `` Have you accepted IT ? ''
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`` Wait, what's it?''
`` No, IT. The most glorious thing of all, available at such a small sacrifice.'' Here I began to notice something about the man over my bead. The reptilian glow of his eyes, the rotting stench about him and the gentle *drip drip* that seemed to follow him. `` IT is truly a blessing to all, and available at so small a cost.''
`` I'll bite, what's it, sorry, IT cost?''
The man smiled, a wide, toothy grin with bits of kelp and dead fish dangling from his teeth. `` Such a simple thing, it only costs tree fiddy.''
`` Dammit Loch Ness Monster! I ai n't givin' you no tree fiddy!''
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[ WP ] Its the year 2277 , genetic modification is legal , but not without its controversies . Your problem ? Your parents are hardcore furries .
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God, if Mom howls at the neighbors again, I'm getting legally emancipated. Do n't even talk to me about the time I caught Dad marking his territory along the fence in our backyard.
`` Mom! Dad!'' I grip my sheets in my fists. This time, I'm not even getting out of bed. `` Could you keep it down?''
The howling dies off. From my parents' room, I hear a muffled, `` Sorry!''
I smother a groan in my pillow. Jesus Christ. This is n't normal. Why the hell am I the only one on this family who wants to be *human*?
My door opens before Dad pokes his head in. `` Trouble sleeping, little pup?''
`` Do *not* call me that. We are not fucking werewolves.''
`` Language.'' He lifts one claw to chastise me.
`` Dad.'' I cringe. `` Take those off.''
`` What?''
`` Those... paws. Please.''
He sighs and tugs at the fur on his wrists. `` Why do n't we go for a nice walk? It's the full moon tomorrow.''
I stare at him. `` It's three o'clock. I should have a curfew, for Christ's sake.''
`` You are n't still afraid of the dark, are you?''
My eyes narrow. `` You are n't worried about those insane'dogs' down the street?'' I waggle my fingers in air quotes.
Dad shakes his head. `` I've had a talk with the Lees. They promised to keep their pets inside the fence.''
He makes it sound so easy. Not like the Lees shelled out a thousand bucks to buy pitwolves -- wolverine/pitbull hybrids -- with freaky glow-in-the-dark eyes. That stupid trendy jellyfish bioluminescence bullshit. I prefer my pets non-GMO, but that has n't stopped morons by the hundreds from investing in modded animals. For `` home protection.'' Right. It's just a pissing contest.
Dad lingers outside my bedroom. `` You sure?''
`` Totally.''
The door clicks shut. I'd pay a thousand bucks to mod my Mom and Dad. Who the hell wants hardcore furries for parents?
***
I'm a total moron. I figured going for a run tonight was a good idea, never mind that I've been sitting on my ass for most of the summer. Air conditioning and gaming make me weak.
Muscles burning, I scowl at the fat moon floating above me. I hunch over, rubbing my shin splints, and suck in the muggy air. It's not like I need to exercise, but I do n't want to be the weakling at school next month.
Down the road, trees hide my house from view. Only a mile to go. If I run instead of walk, I can squeeze in another hour on my vintage virtual reality headset. Call me a hipster, but I like old school gaming.
`` Fuck this mile,'' I mutter.
Huffing and puffing, I break into a jog, my eyes on the next mailbox.
I make it halfway.
A growl rumbles through the night. Adrenaline injects straight into my bloodstream. I freeze, holding my breath, even though my lungs are burning already.
Bushes rustle, black against black. Fuck. I'm one block away from the Lees and their fucked up pets.
Death by pitwolves. How stupid is that?
Yellow eyes gleam in the moonlight. A muzzle pokes through the leaves, sniffing the air, and I manage not to wet myself through sheer force of will. The beast stalks onto the road, fur bristling along its spine, tongue lolling between its fangs. It bares its teeth in a demented grin.
`` What the fuck?'' I whisper.
This is n't a pitwolf.
Something about the beast's eyes looks horribly familiar. A second beast lopes down the road, claws clicking, and nuzzles my fingers with a cold nose. I jerk my hand away, and the animal looks sad that I've rejected its kindness. Like it's guilt-tripping me. Cold dread congeals in my stomach.
`` Mom? Dad?''
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[ WP ] Humanity makes first contact with an advanced alien civilization . This is first contact for them as well .
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Timothy Gregory remembered that day well. He had been playing with friends and his little sister when they all ran to the town green where spaceship slowly made its way to the ground. As the gathered townfolk silently watched, pressure released as a door slid open. Four men stood in the archway, eyeing them. Not men, really. They were brightly colored like birds and they wore strips of black cloth.
Moments passed before one of the men stepped out of the ship, his feline movements suddenly growing wild and uncontrolled. With jerk like movements, it crawled its way back to the safety of its Ship.
The town folk erupted in laughter, most would die remembering this day as the day the magical circus came.
A few, like Timothy, remembered how the middle three digits on its hand were elongated to delicately feathered wings. The other two fingers held blades.
The four men talked amongst each other in a strange clicking manner. They retreated into their capsule.
The next morning Timothy found the capsule by the river. He pretended the capsule was a house and had a yard. He stayed out of their yard. As he dug out worms and played throughout the week, they would watch him, then retreat. Sometimes they would try to exit the capsule, but would always move so silly, like they were running in water almost. As he studied gravity years later, he would be struck with the thought that their world had more gravity than ours. He never asked.
`` Hey, whatcha doing?'' The bright blue one called one day.
`` Me? Im just making a well.'' He said, trying to hide his surprise.
`` There is no water there.''
`` Thats why im digging a well.''
`` You will never find Water there. Do you need assistance?''
Timothy shrugged. As he dug the four men climbed trees and glided off with their fingertips.
`` You have such primitive tools.'' The orange one sneered. It wasnt as reserved as the others.
`` Its what I have. I just want to dig a well.''
`` You will never find water there.''
`` I know. Hey, why did you come here?''
The orange one suddenly jumped to flight and for the first time he saw, flew by flapping its wings. Gold threading reflected light throughout the wings. The other three men joined him. He had never seen it before, but in the sunlight they looked like a kaleidescope, translucent.
The red one landed next to him. `` You will never find water there. Do you need water?''
His hole was waist deep when the guys in uniform asked him how his hole was going. His mom told them he was really into digging holes. Could they see it? His mother smiled nervously.
`` Im digging a well. Its not done yet.''
`` Can we see it?''
`` Maybe when its done.''
`` Can you put this good luck box next to your hole? It helps boys dig better wells. The vikings did it.'' They didnt, but he took it anyway.
`` I know you said theres no water here, but you ca n't tell unless you dig!'' He called when the four men opened their door to watch him. They tilted their heads like birds. Their walks were n't so silly anymore but they did n't fly again.
`` Do you need water?''
He sighed. `` I just want to find it so I can put some fish in it. Can you guys stop bothering me for one day, please?''
They left him alone. Three days later they were gone with his good luck box. He never forgot the weird men, and that pushed him to enter the sciences, and from there join the space program. He was the head of his field for years and on his 90th birthday was allowed access to a special specimen gathered that few had knowledge of.
There in a secret labyrinth, guarded by heavy military sat three large jars, within pickled the bodies of the red, purple, and yellow men. The orange one was missing.
`` Your gaining their trust and planting the camera that allowed us to confirm their continued presence in the area was the key to our success, and yours.'' Their feathers were dulled to varying shades of gray. `` We got them quickly and decided that should you go into the space program, we would grant all scholarships open to you to further your career. You've done us proud. And to think, it all started when you were a little boy in a smaller town.''
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[ WP ] `` But why shoot the janitor ? ''
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The courtroom sat still, silently waiting for the soon-to-be convicted murderers rationale behind shooting a local high school janitor. It was evident that he did it, and at no time did he ever try to deny it. His cold dead eyes scanned the room, which was at maximum capacity. He noticed that every face in the room conveyed some kind of painful and angered emotion.
Although it was never discussed, he knew everyone did n't care about the janitor, but the social implications of killing a low class worker making minimum wage is devastating to their status quo in the local community. After 3 minutes of cold, dead silence, he spoke.
`` You all expected some kind of narcissistic,'I'm fucking blood hungry' explanation did n't ya? You guys came here to see the cook go bonkers in court right? You wanted to see the devil incarnate in person, in the flesh? Now understand what I just said, and let it sink in like a knife in your head. You're not here because you want justice for the janitor, you're here because I've disrupted the common flow of reality. You're here to understand why I did it, not because you want to see me go away for killing some random janitor. You all are self absorbed, just drowning in the money you make. You block out the world, trying to muffle the cry of reality scratching at your ears.''
You could sense the tension in the room as the mood of the courtroom shifted from being a large buildup of anticipation to an overwhelming guilt when they realize they are there for their own selves, rather than what they previously believed. The man continued on.
`` Everyone expects us'crazies' to target the big guys. Them head hanchos always get it right? Always have to aim for the largest fish? Well listen closely. Here's a little slice of reality for all you inbreds. If you take a little peg out of the top of a Jenga tower, what are the chances of it collapsing? Everyone expects to go for the top, so you are not so surprised when it happens. The money you all make clouds your judgement and perception of life. It does n't affect you right? They do n't affect you in any way because were just another rich man killed by a jealous low class citizen. Now, what happens when you take a peg out of the bottom of the tower? Everyones affected, but they never figure it out till it's too late. You will never realize the social structure is compromised until it's already collapsing. You're here to see me, but it's always going to be evident that if you break the meta of reality, the ones who try to avoid it will be the first to react to it. You are all, in a sense, pawns in my own little game. You are all always intertwined with my reality, and it's always going to be that way as you follow the headlines about me all the way to my death and beyond, always open to the grim reality of life. Welcome to the world. Hopefully you can finally live in it before it eats itself.''
The man gave a satisfied smile to the courtroom as they all sat there, dumbstruck that the lives they spent so long forming and protecting for so long were just unraveled and butchered in a matter of minutes.
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[ WP ] Two opposing war generals were granted the same wish by a single genie to win the upcoming battle .
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`` Sir it seems that the opennents are not being wounded by any of our men'' said the private in a typical cool fashion.
`` Impossible'' responded the general `` I was promised that we would win this battle with no resistance. Give me the details.''
`` Yes sir'' promptly replied the private `` Any bullets fired at the enemy simply pass through the enemy like no one was there''
`` Have there been any injuries at all?'' asked the general
`` Reports came in earlier today that a singular civilian was killed by one of the bullets passing through an enemy soldier'' responded the private
`` I've got it private find me that lamp found on the battlefield earlier'' commanded the general
`` Sir yes sir'' responded the private
It must be that double crossing genie. It must be he must have granted the same wish to the other general. I know what I can do. I can make a wish to end the battle in a way which we both win thought the general.
`` Sir here the lamp you requested'' said the private handing the lamp to the general
`` Thank you, return to battle private do not allow anyone to enter this tent until the battle is over'' commanded the general
`` But sir the battle will never end'' responded the private
`` You have your orders'' commanded the general
The general promptly rubbed the lamp and the genie appeared
`` You have two wishes remaining how may I help you?'' said the genie with a slight accent
`` I wish to hear the last two wishes which you have granted'' said the general
`` Both wishes were simply I wish to win the next battle'' responded the genie
`` Okay'' said the general `` I wish for the battle to end''
`` Granted'' responded the genie
Instanteously after the wish was made every indivual is returned to their home and the battle is considered to have been one by each general
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( WP ) You work for a corporation ; you do n't know your employer . Your job is to browse popular websites and compile data on users . You come to a startling conclusion .
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Should I have been suspicious? Probably, but they paid me well enough to not be suspicious. I got a decent living wage to browse Reddit, who would n't jump at a chance like that? Liars. That's who.
All I had to do was report my browser history, my upvotes, likes, whatever. They did n't even care if I watched porn! Occasionally, I had to take surveys on which titles I would click on, which gifs and memes were funniest, yada yada. So yeah, I should have seen this coming sooner.
But maybe I did n't want to, you know? I had a good thing going for me, dank memes from 9 to 5 and that was literally my job! Still, I could n't ignore it anymore.
Everything that I, and my fellow coworkers, would report as interesting would show up within a day or two. It was uncanny, even outright quoted Reddit users without credit!
`` It could be a coincidence!'' I thought. But no, there were too many similarities. I had to quit my job. Oh how I hated to quit it, but I could n't sleep at night knowing I was working for the equivalent of a Plagiarism Plague.
So I quit, went home, and did exactly what I did at work, but this time I was a free man.
I went to Reddit.
`` I inadvertently helped Buzzfeed steal material for almost a year, AMA!''
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[ WP ] A kid about to get beaten by the school bully , when he delivers a mind-changing speech .
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The entire class surrounded us. They were egging Jeremy on, telling him to punch my face in or kick me in the ballsack or body slam me into the lockers. This is the fourth week in a row this has happened. The bruises have n't even healed yet. I do n't know what I did to them. It was my first semester at this school. I barely talked to anyone, much less antagonized them. I just want to go home. Lisa is standing directly behind him. Lisa, the one person at this god forsaken school who has ever shown me any kindness, is laughing along with everyone else. I thought she was perfect. Beautiful and kind and smart and funny. I guess I was wrong. It was n't the first time I was wrong, but it will be the last.
`` Any last words, faggot?'' he sneered at me. I'm not even gay. I just do n't get it.
I pulled my father's gun out of my waistband. There were some screams but most people just gasped. Nobody ran away. Good. I kept the barrel trained on Jeremy's chest.
`` How do you feel now about being such a massive asshole?'' I asked him.
`` I-I-I'm... so-r... sorry.''
I laughed at him. `` God, you're pathetic. You walk around here, acting like you got a 10-inch dick when you're just a fucking pansy. You're the faggot, not me. I have an idea, Jeremy. Why do n't you come over here and suck my cock. I'm sure you'll enjoy that.''
He was crying now. I beckoned him with my gun. He hesitated, but then slowly walked over towards me and knelt down. I stared at Lucy as he began to unbutton my pants.
Before he could pull my pants down, I pushed him away. He scrambled to his feet and moved back into the crowd.
`` You disgust me. FAGGOT FAGGOT FAGGOT FAGGOT. Does n't feel too good to be called those names, does it, FAGGOT?''
Jeremy was shaking so hard, I could n't tell if he nodded.
`` I asked you a question, Jeremy. I asked if it felt good to be called a faggot. I wo n't ask again.''
He was able to weekly mutter `` No.''
`` Good. That's what I wanted to hear. Now, I'm going to ask you one more question. Your fate is in your own hands right now. Kind of exciting, is n't it. Anyway, I digress. Jeremy, I want you to listen to me. If you answer this question wrong... well... use your imagination.''
Jeremy was full out bawling. Everyone else was silent. I should have expected that. They are n't exactly the types to try to help those in need. That's even fucking worse than the shit that Jeremy pulled. Jeremy could probably just blame everything on his alcoholic mother and abusive father and sexually abusive uncle, or whatever fucked up life he lived. What were their excuses though? Was my pain entertaining?
`` Are you going to stop bullying people?''
`` Yes, I promise! I'll never be mean to anyone else ever again. I learned my lesson. I swear to God. Please!''
He was begging. It was cute.
`` Wrong answer,'' I laughed. `` It's pretty funny. You guys are all going to need so much psychological counseling.''
Jeremy's confused expression was the last thing I ever saw. It was great. I put the gun in my smiling mouth, waved goodbye, and pulled the trigger.
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[ WP ] Describe Jeff Goldblum 's face in words .
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He wore a pair of tinted glasses that might have been fashionable on a younger man, and a puppy dog grin that might have been handsome on someone else.
The grin stretched across his whole face, like he was just getting ready to say how great and wonderful everything was at every moment of his life. It was a grin he'd worn so long that his whole face had grown around it. It had grown these thick, angled dimples at the edges of his mouth, as if only to make way for that smile, which covered all of it.
It all gave him a look of confidence and beatific joy that did n't fit the face beneath it - the face of a dark-skinned, aging man; of a man with greased, greying hair; of a man with a sharp chin and a hooked nose that stuck out too far.
Still, he beamed on, joyful and open, radiating bliss, as if he did n't know, as if no one had told him. As if the only mirrors he'd ever seen were glossed in a mother's love.
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[ WP ] A man finds out he has terminal cancer , and decides to go out with a bang . In doing so , he inadvertently starts a revolution .
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I ca n't believe this has happened.
One minute I'm sitting there in my cubicle, listening to that bitch, jerry, drone on and on from the office down the hall about his fantasy football team and how it's like totally his year, the next im listening to some sweet sounding lab tech telling me my results are in and that they need to talk right away. How the hell is something inoperable anyway, it's operating just fine in that it's killing me.
I drop my phone in my stale, burnt coffee, in the bullshit mug that I've been using for ten years... ten fucking years and all I have is a cubicle, slightly in the sight of the window. While jerry, my rage starts to build, has been here four months and has his own office.
Well not anymore.
`` IM MAD AS HELL, and I'm not GON NA TAKE THIS ANYMORE.'' I yell, still seated. The office quiets for a moment, I hear hushing and somewhere a phone continues to ring back, as we often leave people on hold till they finally hang up.
`` I'm mad as hell, and IM NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!'' I say standing up and look around the room.
Janice, the one Ray of Hope in this cesspool is staring at me from across the way. Her beautiful green eyes speak of want, and they urge me forward.
`` PEOPLE, how long must we wait here for our shift to end?'' I ask, pleading with my colleagues, as I begin to pass and take off my jacket and tie my tie around my head, like a office max Rambo. `` How long do we wait for our lunch breaks, which we are hurried to and fro from,'' some stirring from IT,'' how long do we sit in these team meetings to listen to management, IM LOOKING AT YOH JERRY, talk about how we are so lucky to have them above us.'' I see the legal team begin to stand up, more people are beginning to stand and gather around. `` I say we change something around her,'' nods in agreement, I am no longer in control of my body, as I am willed on by the people's unspoken charter of revolution. `` We shall take the management and judge them for their crimes against our 40 hour work week And BENEFITS'' I slam my fist down on Janice's desk, cause her to jump with surprise and look up at me with those big eyes. `` NOW WHO IS WITH ME'' a thunderous roar is heard from IT to MAINTENANCE. the masses have armed themselves with keyboards and staplers, Tim from
Shipping is wielding his bonsai tree. The multitude moves towards jerry, I see in his face that he has no time to change his roster and that this is indeed not his year as his door caves in and the mass begins beating him to pulp. I look down at Janice and kiss her. That is when the sirens began....
15 years later....
`` Men, and women of the Army of the Cubicle, we have come far,'' I rub my knee above where my left leg was, taken from me when we stormed Chicago. `` We have lost much, and we are sure to lose more, but this is about us seeing our tasks through....'' The crowd I look over gathered on what used to be the grand Mall in the nations capital, this army of the people, armed now much better than what it used to have, I continue to speak into the microphone projecting my voice over the rotor wash of our Apache attack helicopters patrolling the skies. `` We are at this nations capital to ring a new era of management styles, one that will honor the commitments of the employer-employee contract, GIVE US overtime, and understand that sometimes you should be allowed to wear jeans...'' I pause to allow these words to sink in,'' ON A TUESDAY'' I raise my M4 to the sky, clutched in my one good hand, while my other, gnarled by shrapnel is being held by Janice, her stomach large with our fourth child. `` NOW, brigade leaders... you have your orders... execute'' at that the B2 bombing runs are heard in the distant and the horde in front of me begins to move east.
As I turn to Janice, her smile baring broken teeth, I think to myself...
How did it end up like, it was only a kiss... it was only a kiss.
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[ WP ] Theories for why T.Rex had such small hands . Perhaps a time traveller has gone back in time to see and is surprised .
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I knew it was cliché at the time but i could n't think of a better place to go. I threw the time grenade off the cliff which had been previously set for 80 million years ago. I pedaled the umbrella-coptor off the cliff and landed right in the whirlpool the time grenade had created.
I arrived in the time of the T-Rex. The biggest, beastliest, animal that had ever lived. I explored the pristine, unpolluted, land and witnessed the Earth for the first time in my life. Unfortunately i had traveled too far and lost my way back from the umbrella-coptor. Suddenly I heard a massive roar that shook the Earth with every footstep. The modern time traveler might have become unhinged by this roaring but I did not crumple at the sight. Instead I put on my novelty giant English Guard Bearskin Hat. This was the weakness of the T-Rex. It could not lower it's head without poking it's eye out on my hat. Or so I thought. The T-Rexes regrouped and I saw them put on giant novelty boxing gloves. Oh no the only weakness of the giant novelty item…ANOTHER GIANT NOVELTY ITEM!! They quickly ran at me but their dwarfed legs could not handle the weight of the gloves. All the dinosaurs tripped and soon we were all on the floor and everybody walked the dinosaur.
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[ WP ] Write a story that becomes a horror story in the last line .
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Once upon a time, there was a cheerful fat man who lived alone on a farm in a beautiful town. Gideon was known by all as a good, god-fearing man that was happy with his bucolic life. Even though he was the only man in town without a wife, he was perfectly content, especially because his farm was the more successful than any of his neighbor's.
Out of everyone's crops, his were the biggest, tastiest, and most plentiful in number. If Noah Chambers next door yielded one hundred tomatoes, Gideon's farm yielded two hundred. If Ian Thompson down the way grew a pumpkin so big it was sure to win the county fair's biggest pumpkin contest, Gideon grew a pumpkin twice as big.
Now, one might think that such success would garner suspicion or ill will on Gideon. Most folks in town were happy to see that he was now living a happy life, especially because he had lost both his wife and unborn son at once. Back when Gideon's wife was alive, his farm had been small and humble, but he worked through his grief and from his tireless, dedicated work, his farm grew until it was the best in town.
However, Jebediah Jones was cranky that one single Farmer could outgrow his farm. `` I have three sons and a strong wife to help me plant and harvest,'' he grumbled to the bartender one day. `` How on earth can that lonely Gideon out-grow *me*?''
Well, word got back to our Gideon that Jebediah had been complaining about his success, so Gideon gave Jebediah one of every crop he owned -- Jebediah got the juiciest apple from all of Gideon's trees, the greenest bunch of kale, the biggest pumpkin from his patch ( which made Ian jump for joy when he heard the news ), and so on. Jebediah was so overwhelmed with joy all ill will disappeared immediately. He went down to Gideon's house to thank him personally.
`` Now, Gid, I'm so sorry for saying those things about you,'' he said while Gideon poured him a cup of tea. `` Y'see, I've just been in real bad spirits since my dear daughter ran away to marry that travelling man.''
`` Oh, I'd heard,'' Gideon tried to look surprised. `` But I thought that was just a rumor! Did she really run away from home?''
`` Yes,'' Jebediah hung his head. `` She sent us a hand-written letter telling us she'd made up her mind. You could tell she was upset to leave us -- Christ, there were *tear drops* all over the letter! She was so sad to leave us she musta been crying a river, but he emphasized just how true her intentions were. She said we'd never see her again. God! I should be mad, but Gideon, I miss her already.''
Gideon comforted his neighbor, and Jebediah left, feeling better than before.
A month later, the county fair was held, and when Ian won the prize for biggest pumpkin in town, he threw his arm around Gideon's shoulders and said, `` Thank you, my friend, for givin' away your pumpkin to Jebediah. Since his wife whipped that pumpkin into a big ol' pie for her family, I finally got to win this prize! I tell you, Gid, I needed this.''
`` Oh, you did?'' Gideon asked curiously.
`` Why, yes! I've been just distraught, Gid. You see, my daughter recently ran away to go to the big city.''
`` No! I ca n't believe it! Are you pulling my leg, Ian?''
`` No, I'm being serious! My darling Charlotte left me a letter just a month ago, telling me she was running away to'make something of herself' and'marry a better man than she could get here.' Can you believe it? Her note was written so messy, too, like she was in a hurry- could n't get away fast enough, I guess. I've been so low lately, but winning this prize with my pumpkin really cheered me up.''
Gideon smiled serenely. `` I'm glad I could have helped.''
A month later, Gideon was chopping down trees when he felt a pair of eyes on him. He pulled back and saw an angry man watching him.
It was David, a black-haired man who lived on the edge of town with his young and lively wife. Gideon had never thought much of them, but he called out cheerfully, `` Hello, Davis. How can I help you?''
David's eyes flashed, and he stormed over before shoving a note in Gideon's face. `` Does *this* look familiar?'' He asked. Gideon looked it over -- it was a letter from David's wife telling him she was leaving to find another place so she could marry a better man than he.
`` No, it does n't,'' Gideon said. `` But I'm sorry for your loss.''
`` Do n't lie to me!'' David yelled, startling Gideon. `` I *know* you have something to do with this. Isabella would never write something like this. She loved me -- she would never leave!''
`` Sometimes we do n't really know the ones we love,'' Gideon mused.
`` I saw you hanging outside of our farm the other day,'' David said. Gideon's eyes widened. `` Yes, you were hiding behind the bushes, watching Isabella gather water at the well. You were following her, watching her the whole time she was gardening. Then I get this, the next day?''
`` I-I'm sure you were just imagining things,'' Gideon said, straightening his posture. `` There's no need to make up stories and blame *me* just because your wife turned out to be a lying, hateful, ungrateful hussy that does n't appreciate the good life her husband gave her and wants to leave for something'better.' Trust me, after a while, you wo n't even miss Rose.''
`` Rose?'' David said. `` Do n't you mean Isabella?'' He saw fear in Gideon's eyes, and it all made sense. `` Wait a minute -- Rose was your wife. Are you saying your wife tried to leave -- Oh, Christ. What did you do to my wife?'' He moved towards Gideon, intending to grab the fat man's collar and give him a shakedown until he got answers.
Gideon tightened his grip on his axe and approached his angry neighbor. Maybe it was time to try a new day of bettering his farm. After all, if grinding dead women into his soil caused his crops to grow so abundantly, who knew what wonders a dead man could do?
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[ WP ] You win a bet with the Devil by asking him a question that no one has ever thought of before .
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The deal was made. He knew he was gambling here - but even so, the rush he felt from the risk was enthralling. Knowing he had to choose his next words carefully, he mulled over his thoughts. Glancing past the figure before him, the one with whom he had struck the bet, he studied his kingdom. The obvious answers, likely wrong, sat at the front of his mind. Quickly they were cast aside for he knew the words would not give him his prize, nor be honest lies.
`` You did hear me?'' the damnable human asked. What manner of creature was this, that could press him so hard?
`` Yesss... Yes, I have heard you, mortal.'' The snake like rasp of his words was both enthralling, and terrifying. The man smiled.
`` So tell me - tell me, or forfeit your claim on my most cherished possession.''
He glared into the eyes of this… this… thing that had dared to challenge him so. He, master of dealmaking. King of lies. Lord of this plane of suffering. How could he make him, the master of all things that lurk, suffer so, with such a simple question? No one, in his eons of existence, had either dared, nor cared, to ask him this. For this question, he had no prepared answer.
`` How… how am I? I am… lonely.''
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[ WP ] The town superhero and supervillain find out that they 've been roommates all along
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He unclipped the cape from around his neck. It had been a long hot day in the sun and he was ready for a quiet scotch before bed. As he stood in the kitchen pouring his drink he heard the door open, and then close. She was home. The love of his life. His wife of 14 years. She had been distant these last few months, but he loved her all the same. `` Good evening, my dear.'' He says with a wry smile. `` Oh fuck off. Whats so good about it.'' She sparred back. `` Well after spending all day down at the station, I ended up at the childrens hospital this afternoon. They were having a fundraiser and I went as Superman.'' He said to no one in particular. She was already gone, up the stairs and into the bathroom. He walked out the back and sat in his chair as he always did. Looking over the small country town they had called home for the last four decades. He opened his case file and started to go over his notes. He had been investigating a group of murders for months now, that had rocked this quiet little town to its core. There had been zero leads, zero witnesses and very little to suggest they would ever catch the murderer. As he finished up his scotch. He took one last look out into the darkness and then went inside. She was already asleep by the time he got upstairs and instead of waking her by having a shower, he just slipped quietly into bed. As he lay there in the darkness pondering the case. He sensed her moving. She was facing the other way but he could hear her laughing. He rolled over and asked her what could be so funny at this hour of the night? She turned towards him, and with a wry smile she spoke the words. `` It was me, my dear. I killed them all.''
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[ WP ] There are certain occasions where the most improbable outcomes come into being ...
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`` Ron Paul *won?!? *''
America was collectively speechless. Truly, the impossible had occurred. Ron Paul was n't exactly a household name before, but by November 6th a whole lot of people knew who he was.
Allegations of voting fraud shot across the country, but the Supreme Court soon ruled that more recounts would be excessive.
Interest groups scrambled to account for this unforeseen event. AIPAC went into full gear when President Paul's budget did not include aid to Israel, but the President held his ground and a majority of Congress cooperated. The NRA danced in the streets with their firearms. TEA Party activists, organizing via Facebook, quickly organized real-life reenactments of the Boston Tea Party, dumping shipping crates from China into the oceans to protest the `` trade imbalance.''
After America drastically withdrew it's overseas actions, China soon began to compete with the US as the world's military and political superpower. The UN became even more irrelevant as secret negotiations between China and the US decided more and more of the world's fate. One day, negotiations could accomplish nothing more. China launched it's nukes, and America responded in kind. The President lived out the rest of his life in a bunker under an isolated Wyoming mountain.
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[ WP ] Soon after you die , you are approached by a deity who asks `` so , did you enjoy your time in heaven ? ''
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For one moment I was still inside the vehicle. I could feel the metal screaming and twisting around me, as it was reduced to clump. The realization that I was in the middle of it, never really reached my head, instead I only had eyes and ears for everything swirling around me. Still, among the chaos there was still one thought that formed before everything went dark: `` So this is death...''
I did not grasp the entirity of the event. It somehow came over me in every jarring, painful detail when I suddenly stumbled forward and huge, greasy hands caught me. `` Wow! Easy there, pal! We need you in one piece'', a low voice rumbled.
I looked up. My vision was blurred, but I saw enough to recognize the face of a fat, bearded man in a some sort of overall. `` So did you enjoy your time in heaven?'' he asked and then he laughed as if that question was some kind of joke that I should be in on.
`` Heaven, what?'' I mumbled, noticing that I could only form the words with great difficulty. It felt as if my tongue was not really connected to the rest of my body. But somehow it somehow it seemed to make sense. Maybe I was in some kind of hospital after all. Although my addled brain could hardly imagine the fat man to be a part of any medical crew. His dirty clothes rather made him look like some sort of mechanic.
`` Yeah, Heaven!'' the man said.
`` No, I just died,'' I said with the conviction of a man who had felt his own body being crushed underneath his own car.
`` Nah, man! You are still a little confused with heaven and all. You have been dead a long time after all. But we count on you getting all of it back soon. We were extra careful,'' he said. `` But we have little time. This way!'' He pulled at my body and although I wanted to resist him, it seemed impossible to do so, my own limbs and muscles much too weak to resist the grip of a man who seemed to have worked heavy machinery.
He almost carried me out of the room where I had been in. Some sort of huge metal door moved to the side and we stepped into a dimly lit corridor. Only a few, flickering electric lamps illuminated the muddy floor.
`` See, we did a great effort to get you.''
`` Who are you,'' I gasp with my dry lips.
`` Oh, I am just Barney from G.O.D.''
`` G.O.D.?''
`` General Obit Devices,'' he replied. `` We manage the place. Do n't you remember? You have an eternity contract with us.''
`` I do n't remember.''
`` Does n't matter as long as you remember the right things,'' he said as we reached what looked like a decrepit mining elevator. Barney opened its door, stepped inside with me and closed the door behind us again, before he chose a floor on a panel and with a rumble, the elevator started to move upwards.
The moment allowed me to formulate my next question: `` Why am I here? I died, I should be in the afterlife.''
`` No, man,'' he sighed. `` You really are kinda mixed-up in your old brain. You were dead, you were in the afterlife - managed by your good old pals from G.O.D. and you are back now. And the reason why you are here... Well, there is something with a computer or something. Something only you know about. Your old employer will tell you everything once we are upstairs. My job was just to bring you back from heaven.''
`` But this was no heaven. There is murder and suffering all over Earth. Horrible, horrible things happen every day.''
`` Yeah? Listen, pal, if the simulation department fucked up, it's really their business, not mine. Now shut it, I am really not in the mood for sobstories,'' he said. With his second hand he had pulled out a pack of cigarettes and using only his lips he got one of them into his mouth. He lit it and smoked it in determined silence, ignoring me entirely.
There was nothing I could do.
It was hard to say how long the ride took. We passed by many other levels: Long, filthy corridors, drowned in darkness, only a few greenish emergency lights illuminated their contours.
The elevator rumbled and creaked as it moved on.
The rumbling and creaking reached cacophonous levels when we arrived: New doors, a new building and blinding lights. But even the brightness could not outshine the dirt and the discarded broken electronics that littered our way, nor the unrendered walls where cables and pipes poked out.
Another metal door opened before Barney and me and I saw the figure of two persons.
One of them gasped.
`` Yeah, they ai n't pretty after so long,'' Barney said to them while I tried to make out who was standing opposite us. It seemed to be a man and a woman in dark suits.
`` Mister Carter,'' the man in the suit finally said. `` We are very sorry to bring you back. The company faces an emergency. See, we lost a huge part of our data and all that we have left is your old workstation from all those years ago. We hope that you still know how to operate it.''
The man nodded to Barney and the fat man heaved me into a chair. For a moment I noticed nothing but the old ZX spectrum computer, its greenish CTR monitor looking back at me like some kind of wide opened green mouth.
`` Do you think, he remembers?'' the woman asked behind my back.
`` We will see. If he does n't we might still use him somewhere. It's not as if there is n't work somewhere in recycling for his kind. Although I have no idea how long he is going to make it.''
Their words made me focus on their reflections on the screen, but due to the bad state of my vision, they were hardly more than blurred shadows on the screen. Instead the effort made me notice the face opposite me. It took me a long time to realize what I was staring at: The rotten flesh was hardly covering the skull anymore, its eyes resting absurdly above the exposed cheek bones.
When I realized that I was looking at myself, an inhuman screech came from my collapsed lungs.
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[ CW ] Write a story that begins and ends with the same sentence , but the sentence has a completely different meaning each time .
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NSFW
Let me tell you, man, this bitch; always giving me shit. If I had a dime to my name, I'd high tail out of Suburbia and just get as far away from her as possible.
Such is the plight of the golddigger.
Hopping from Sugar Momma to Sugar Momma was n't easy, but I hit the fucking jackpot. Or so I thought.
I do n't care who you are. No matter what `` principals'' you might claim to hold dear. One look at some of the dinosaurs I've stuck my dick in, you will shed a tear of pity at least.
I've been at the end of my rope just as many times as I've pushed it into some rich old ladies foul unkempt vagina.
I do n't do drugs. I hardly drink. Mentally, sound as a pound - well... I'm lazy as sin. Hence the impeccable slew of elderly conquest to which I've managed to lay claim at this tender age.
I might not be the first millenial to nail a holocaust survivor.
I could live with that. I've done far worse. But the way she'd quote Goebbels when we fucked...
`` A lie told once remains a lie but a lie told a thousand times becomes the truth,'' she'd pronounce menacingly, `` now tell me again how good that pussy tastes, punk.''
Just one of the many ways I was helping her make up for lost time
At least the chemo kept her bare. You learn to appreciate the little things..
You got to give it to her, though. What I lacked in dignity, she made up in spunk. By which I mean moxie, of course.
About a year in, I just could n't take it anymore. I've always known I was a whore, but she was the first person to make me feel like one. You may be as surprised as I was to learn that I do indeed have a line, and this bitch just crossed it
The last straw came, not when she quit makin with the money, but when she took me out of the will. After everything I put up with, I was no fucking houseboy. Paid keep, maybe. But I was in for the long-haul.
All it takes is one new Hospice nurse to fuck everything up. I knew that sunny disposition was going to be a problem the moment we met.
All day everyday, I tend to this malignant cunt. Some upbeat nurse thinks he can just waltz in here with his sob story and the disabled toddler to back it up, then *just like that* my livelihood is all but gone.
Well, fuck that.
If there's one thing I know better than anyone else on this earth, it's using dementia to my advantage in order to fuck people out of their birthright.
This nurse stood no chance.
I knew I had to act fast.
I decided to put the frame on him. Sugar momma's last minute alteration to the will would work to my advantage for now. It made for a solid motive. But this guy. He was flawless. He did n't cut corners. He double checked everything. I've seen hospice nurses come and go. He was a good nurse.
Shame he'd be doing 25 to life, really. And that disabled daughter of his. Single parent. She'd end up in a home for sure.
It's at times like these you reflect on the choices you've made. You consider the person you've become, and the person you'd one day like to be.
I know I'd like to be a person who does n't have to fuck elderly women to make ends meet. So, tough titties for those two.
Collateral damage.
All I had to do was line him up with the murder and sabotage his credibility. The notoriously overzealous DA would take care of the rest. Up for re-election, there's no way he'd let the heartless murder of a helpess old woman go unprosecuted.
One key piece of evidence locked the whole thing down. No one was the wiser.
The hospice nurse fought tooth and nail for years to prove his innocence and regain custody of his beloved daughter but found no such luck.
He was murdered in prison.
I bought a nice house in the Bahamas, where I've lived for the last 10 years with my beloved cat, Lucy. For whatever reason, she's been peeing outside the litter box lately and she'll wake me up in the middle of the night sometimes, which is kind of annoying.
This morning, she lunged at my erection while I was still asleep. Lucy is one crazy cat. Let me tell you, man, this bitch; always giving me shit.
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[ WP ] You 're a minion in an RTS or 4X game -- perhaps a marine in Starcraft or a musketeer in Civilization -- and the war is going badly for your side .
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( This is an x post from a prompt me I did but it's very applicable here )
________________________________________________________________
I had failed them.
My masters, my brethren. The entire Firstborn race on this world would die; all because I could not succeed.
I was the last one of my kind. The last Nerazim.
I always trained in the ways of my kin. Striking from the shadows, hiding until the right times. It always seemed right. Just as I was trained, I stood behind as my brethren charged forth with the army. I stood behind as they were slaughtered by the AA the enemies had spawned.
`` Do n't be foolish master! They will destroy us!'' My brother pleaded.
`` He does n't listen to anyone Kel'Naviv.'' I scolded him
`` A young Nerazim should know this''
`` But he **WILL** kill all of us this way!'' He started crying.
`` I do n't want to die''
`` Do n't be foolish, Naviv! We will not die. He will command us the best he can, and If that fails, we will hide as we always have.''
`` They're leaving now. Let us pray to Adun''
`` I have given up on the old ones brother. They never answer us. Only the commander guides us to victory.''
`` Do not say such things! The Firstborn have always honored Adun!''
`` I am done honoring such. They can strip me of my rank, it does n't matter anymore. They will fail.''
And with that I pleaded to my brother:
`` Come with me.''
`` Where?'' He retorted.
`` Just follow me.''
So we went to the outskirts of the nexus, and threw our Templar cloaks on.
`` We will go to the enemy encampments and destroy them! LET US GO!''
After that, we started running to the battle field. We were so focused on our destination we nearly missed the calamity that was our army to our left.
`` My gods Kel'Navori.''
`` It is too late for them. Our mission is the last. If we fail, the world will be in their control.''
So we went.
___________________________________________________
At dusk, we came to their encampment.
`` We shall go directly to the source. There is the only weakness.''
`` I will follow you anywhere brother. May we find peace in the next live if we fail. Adun Toridas brother.''
`` Adun Toridas.''
And with those words of farewell we charged the enemy.
_____________________________________________________
`` Oh wtf. DTs? When the fuck did he spawn these guys?! I did n't see a Dark temple in his base. wtf hax''
And with a fell swoop of his mouse, he sent his army back to kill the last Protoss force.
_____________________________________________________
*the end*
I call this one `` Brotoss: The legend of Kel'Navori''
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[ WP ] A person explains to a captive how they are going to kill them and why they are going to kill them . Make him/her seem like the good guy .
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Daisy looks at Skipper sadly wishing there was another way. Skipper usually looked perfect and had the perfect hair and clothes but now she looks like an entirely different person. Her fiery red hair is tangled and frizzy. Her usually ironed designer clothes are stained and ripped. Even her makeup is smeared across her face. “ Daisy, Please! ” Skipper pleads as tears run down her face. Daisy can ’ t bear to watch and walks out of the room. She collapses on her bed and feels as if her heart is breaking. As she cries into her pillow, she realizes that she owes Skipper an explanation. Daisy hates herself for what she was about to do, she wishes with every fiber of her being that a miracle would happen and everything would be alright but by now Daisy knows that it was too late for miracles.
She gets up from her bed and reenters the room where Skipper is tied up. She hyperventilates as Skipper coughs and wheezes from crying. Skipper glares at Daisy with her strong green eyes. Daisy always loved Skipper ’ s eyes, it reminded her of a cat ’ s eyes. Daisy sits down on the ground out of Skipper ’ s reach but still at her level and begins to speak, “ Breeze is going to die Skipper. I ’ m sorry but I can ’ t- I can ’ t let that happen; she ’ s just a kid. ” Skipper shakes with fear and whispers, “ Please Daisy. We can fix this, we can be good again. Breeze will be fine. ” Daisy looks at her knowing that she is lying. “ No, we can ’ t fix this Skipper. You stole her time; she only has a few hours left. I love you Skipper but this is wrong! I can ’ t let you do this again. ” Daisy paces around the room. Skipper begins to lash her chain against the wall and screams, “ You stupid little girl! Don ’ t you understand? I saved you! It was your fault that your parents died! It was your fault! ” Daisy cries a little harder; she couldn ’ t deny it.
When she was nine years old, she gave Skipper permission to take her some of her parents ’ lifetimes otherwise Skipper would ’ ve died. Skipper agreed but rather than taking just a few years, she took their entire lives. She said it was necessary and promised to take care of Daisy and her little sister, Breeze. Although Skipper could be cold and mean spirited at times, Daisy and Breeze knew that she had a kind side as well. Daisy and Breeze both tried to follow their parent ’ s example and cherish the good in every person. Daisy remembers when their parents first adopted Skipper, the house was abuzz with excitement over having another girl in the house. Daisy was a bit nervous that her parents wouldn ’ t love her as much but her father assured her, “ I will always love you my Daisy Duck! Bringing a new girl in the house is a reason to celebrate, not to worry! You ’ re getting another sister! One more person you can love! ” Her parents always looked for a reason to celebrate even when Skipper was kicked out of school, summer camp, and even church. Preachers said there was something wrong with Skipper and that she should be returned as soon as possible. Daisy ’ s parents refused to believe that Skipper was hopeless up until the very end.
As a child, Skipper revealed that she had the ability to steal other ’ s time and she needed to in order to keep living. Skipper told Daisy that a real sister who truly loved her would help her and so she did. But now it was too far. Breeze was the last thing that Daisy had and couldn ’ t let Skipper take her too. It started when Breeze told Skipper that she was considering going to an art school. Skipper wouldn ’ t hear of it and went berserk. The next day, Skipper apologized and gave Breeze a necklace and breakfast in bed. As Breeze drank the juice on the breakfast tray, she began to feel sick. Apparently the juice concoction was demonic and when paired with the piece of jewelry, it sucked the life out of the juice-drinker. Skipper didn ’ t completely fill the glass so Breeze didn ’ t realize that Skipper stole her life until her condition worsened. When Breeze fell asleep, Skipper took the necklace back and claimed Breeze ’ s life as her own. When Daisy found out, she was devastated and realized that there was no saving Skipper.
As she looks into Skipper ’ s sad eyes she couldn ’ t help but feel like she already lost. She was a disappointment to Breeze as well as her parent ’ s memory. “ I love you Skipper. ” She whispers as she makes sure the necklace is still around Skipper ’ s neck. Skipper hisses and lunges at Daisy knocking her down. Daisy jumps back knowing the violence that Skipper is capable of. “ Skipper, you aren ’ t leaving here. It ’ s over. ” Daisy says as her voice cracks in sadness. Skipper eyes her and then puts her head down in defeat. “ Your parents would be ashamed. ” She hisses. Daisy grabs the goblet full of juice and puts it to Skipper ’ s mouth. After a moment, Skipper goes limp and ceases moving. Daisy unlatches the necklace and then unties Skipper. Daisy puts a flower in Skipper ’ s hands and leaves the storm shelter. She hurries as Drew, her next door neighbor will be showing up any minute to help her garden. He would find the body and hopefully he ’ d immediately call the police.
She runs upstairs to Breeze who is bedridden. Breeze smiles as she walks through the door. “ Sister! I missed you. ” Breeze says cheerfully as always. Noticing her sister ’ s eyes, Breeze sits up in her bed concerned. “ What happened? What ’ s wrong? ” Breeze asks stroking the hair out of Daisy ’ s face. Daisy couldn ’ t hold back her tears and begins to stutter, “ I ’ m so sorry Breeze. You ’ ll be okay now. ” Daisy reveals a water bottle from behind her back and begins to drink. Breeze watches confused as her sister begins to go limp. “ Daisy! Daisy! ” She yells tapping her frantically. She grabs the water bottle and undoes the top of the bottle. Breeze recognizes the color and instantly knows that Daisy just drank Skipper ’ s juice. Breeze pulls her sister ’ s hair hoping she ’ ll wake up and the necklace falls from her neck. Breeze can ’ t believe her eyes and grabs it as tears run down her face. She yells in pain as she latches it around her neck and instantly begins to feel stronger. “ Skipper! Skipper! ” Breeze yells hoping she ’ ll run upstairs any minute with a solution. Police sirens begin to blare outside of her window as Breeze desperately tries to hold on to the goodness in her heart.
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[ WP ] this is what happens when you do n't read the terms and conditions .
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On a scale of boredom, I was a 16. I know I didn ’ t say what scale I was using, but assume it was ten and attempt to realize how bored I needed to be to get to this part of the internet. The part where suddenly all the Youtube videos were in Spanish and most of them included stuffed animals.
I clicked another link, not that I understood what any of them was saying, but it was more interesting than nothing, and at this point I was on a roll. When you were in Vegas you let it ride, stick it all on red and walk away for the evening. I was doing the same thing here, just with Spanish youtube videos and my sanity.
I scrolled down to the comments section below, looking over the hundreds of comments, most of which were in Spanish, a few in a language I didn ’ t know but recognized as different. Near the bottom of the first page, there was a single comment in English. Something lengthy that ended in a link that the commenter claimed ‘ would change your fucking life ’.
Well, let it ride.
The link led to a poorly built website, sky blue and vomit coloured. There was a loud song playing in the background there didn ’ t seem to be a pause button. In the middle, there was a bright button reading ‘ ORDER! ’ I clicked the button, and it brought me to a similarly designed page, covered with notices about the product, it was a small black box, nothing special. It was going to be three dollars to order for ‘ temporal shipping and handling. ’ I reread that charge before trying to find the ‘ about us ’ section of the website.
“ In an effort to prove that I have discovered a time travel method, I am offering people the use of a time beacon, yadayadayada ’ I was getting up to 17 and rising quickly, so I jumped back over to the buy page and offered it my PayPal.
“ Delivery will be instant, have you read the terms and conditions? ”
I mean, no, but who did that these days? I accepted the purchase, and there was a ring at my doorbell.
When I opened up the door, there wasn ’ t a box there, but there was a hole in my front steps and a series of smouldering gashes in the side of my house. I turned around to look at them some more, worried my house might catch fire, ‘ What the shit ’ I mouthed.
“ Oh, hello. ” The voice was like a calm breeze, not worried about the cosmic event that had just ruined my houses ascetic.
“ What the hell? ”
“ Turn around. ”
I turned around, and my jaw dropped.
__________________________________________________________________________
“ Tada! ” I said, looking at myself on the porch with my mouth agape like an idiot. Of course, I actually remembered when this happened. It had been seven years ago when I ’ d shown up at the door to help me out last time. Of course, last time I was the one getting help, and this time I was giving it. I surmised we could do better than I had done in the past seven years using the knowledge that I knew and what I was taught by me before me, “ I ’ m you. ”
“ I see that. ”
Yeah, I know the eyes work, brilliant isn ’ t it? ” I looked over myself, did I really look that haggard when I ’ d made the order, “ So you clicked the link I guess. ”
“ Yeah. ”
“ So here I am, ready to get to work? ”
“ What? ”
“ Did you read the terms and conditions? ”
“ No. ”
“ That ’ s alright, neither did I. ”
__________________________________________________________________
It was seven years later when I sat with myself on the balcony of our penthouse apartment, looking over to the East side of Manhattan. We ’ d just bought the place and things were wonderful, moved in here with the wife, having a kid on the way, and me to always have my back.
I turned to me, the one who ’ d come through time seven years ago to help me up from where I was, the one that had found me Shawna, bought stock in the company that would develop the medicine that cured her infertility. He seemed so content to just work away, taking enough to have a good life, but letting me take all of the big spoils, “ This better than what you had? ”
“ Yeah, by a lot, ” he said, looking at his watch, he ’ d been checking it consistently for the past two hours, looking down to it, then over to me every couple of minutes.
“ What are you looking at? ”
“ Well, you ’ re due. ”
“ What? ”
“ Well, if you don ’ t go back and help, ” he paused for a moment, “ well, you, we don ’ t get this. ”
“ Dude, we have this. ”
“ Yeah, but JUST you and me, not the infinite you ’ s that exist, you need to keep the cycle going. ”
“ That sounds like bullshit. ”
“ Not really man, this set up is WAY better than what I left for the last guy, and if you leave for seven years you could probably get more than this even. ”
“ I like this. ”
“ Doesn ’ t matter. ”
“ Why? ”
“ Dude, you agreed. ” There was a bright flash, it slashed across the sky, “ Yeah, that ’ s about the right time. ”
“ What happens to all this? ”
“ I get it, man, I worked for it, didn ’ t I? ”
There was a second blue flash, and then the crackle of fire for a moment. The apartment in Manhattan was gone, and I was standing on an old porch, cracked and splintered like I ’ d landed on it. I took several steps back, looking over the porch, and the cogs started to work, the door creaked open, I was looking at myself now.
I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream, I wanted to do anything to go back, but I had never tried to figure out the way this all worked, I had never asked, I had never-
“ Who are you? ”
There was a moment of pause, while everything fell into place in my mind, “ Tada, ” I said, looking at myself on the porch with my mouth agape like an idiot. Of course, I actually remembered when this happened. It had been seven years ago when I ’ d shown up at the door to help me out last time. Of course, last time I was the one getting help, and this time I was giving it. I surmised we could do better than I had done in the past seven years using the knowledge that I knew and what I was taught by me before me, “ I ’ m you. ”
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[ WP ] Your girlfriend is an alien whose species is only slightly different from human beings . What are those changes , and how do you find out ?
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Jacki was one of those shy butches with hidden tattoos and an alternative undercurrent, despite being outwardly pretty normal. We met at a bowling night, of all things, where I lost two acrylic nails to a ball that was too heavy for me and she bandaged my bleeding thumb from a little medkit in the back of her Vespa's storage box.
I realised as she softly told me how to change the dressing in that husky, serious voice, that I had already fallen a little bit in love with her and that I wanted *her* to be the one to change my bandage in the morning.
So I told her so. I've always been the forthright kind.
She gave me her helmet and we got on her scooter and rode to her little studio apartment, where she tucked me into a fluffy dressing gown and cuddled me until I slept.
No doubt about it, I was in love alright.
& nbsp;
We took things slow. I knew there was some underlying trauma to her shyness and I did n't press it. She took me to watch her play baseball and played me improv love songs on her old guitar. Two weeks into things, I asked her about her parents and she looked away, suggesting maybe things were n't working out between us.
Devastated, I wrapped myself around her and cried until she soothed me by stroking my back and whispering that she was sorry.
We never talked about her family again; my own family relationship was rocky, since they were Muslims and did n't agree with my apostasy, nor my same-sex attractions. Clearly Jacki had it even worse.
The first night we slept together was a month into our relationship and I finally got to see the full extent of her tattoos - massive, scrolling, symmetric whorls of purple, red and white, raised scars showing through some parts and curious dimples in other parts. I asked who had done the work - it was so beautifully *natural* and complex that it looked almost organic. She said it had been done in the Cook Islands.
I believed her.
& nbsp;
After two months, I knew something was up when I asked her for a pad and she did n't have a single feminine hygiene product in her apartment. But she ran down to the gas station and bought me a pack all the same and I loved her for that small gesture, even though I was confused.
`` I had a radical hysterectomy when I was sixteen,'' she explained later, `` due to progressive cervical cancer.''
`` Why did n't you tell me?'' I'd asked.
`` Well we're gay - it's not like we can have kids together. I did n't think it mattered.''
Nonplussed, I wanted to be angry at her, but I could n't. She was right; it hardly mattered. If we wanted to have kids, it would be *me* doing the carrying anyway as Jacki had the maternal instincts of a pet rock.
The subject of children was n't raised again though - I was twenty three and she was twenty seven. Plenty of time to think about kids later on.
And so our relationship blossomed.
& nbsp;
Almost a year later, the normally indomitably healthy Jacki got sick.
Her temperature was sky high and I begged her to go to the doctor, but she refused.
`` It will pass in a couple of days,'' she said.
But she wet the bed with foul-smelling blood-laced urine and I called an ambulance regardless. She was delirious by now and I soothed her with an ice pack on her forehead while she babbled in broken syllables - not even real words, just a string of nonsense.
At the hospital she came around once they lowered her temperature and she begged me to get the medkit from her scooter. Like any good partner, I did what she asked.
A day later she was fine and they released her, saying it must have been some kind of gastro virus, but the doctor wanted to check back with her about some odd test results next week.
Jacki never went back, saying she felt fine.
& nbsp;
We got married six months later, after the supreme court decision, and we moved into a bigger place. A bunch of her friends attended, but no family. I was much the same; only my liberal uncle and aunt bothered to come from my side.
I got promoted and Jacki finished her sports medicine degree. We got a little German schnauzer called Boofy and we had a holiday in Thailand, to make up for our too-short honeymoon.
Almost exactly a year to the day, she got sick again.
The same symptoms; bloating, fever, sweats and discharge. Again she begged me not to take her to the hospital and asked for her medkit again.
Bemused and frightened I got the metal box for her.
But she did n't get better this time.
I'd picked up my phone and had started dialing when her eyes went wide and she *screamed. *
`` It's happening!'' she moaned, tearing the sheet off her abdomen.
The tattoos and scars along her stomach had grown thick and fleshy, with a raw stripe in between, down the central line of her body. As I watched, it tore open and Jacki writhed in agony. I grabbed for the phone again but she snatched my hand back with unnatural strength, pinning my hand to the bed.
`` Not much time to explain,'' she gasped, then her back arched and she *split* down the middle like a fruit that's been squeezed too hard.
From the wound on her body squirmed a newborn baby; fully formed and swirled with purple, red and white markings, just like hers.
`` Get a towel,'' Jacki barked and in my shell-shocked state, I could only do what I was told.
She wrapped the infant in the clean towel and held her.
`` I'm not human,'' she finally said.
I'd figured as much by now, so just nodded.
`` And I'm sorry.''
The gaping hole in her abdomen was leaking orange fluid and was n't closing.
She noticed and looked down, grimacing.
`` Arissa, I'm dying. This is the life cycle of my people - we give birth, then we die. I thought I could suppress at least two more cycles, but I was wrong.''
The tears started flowing immediately and my shoulders started to shake. This was n't real. It could n't be.
`` I love you Arissa and I want you to raise our daughter. Tell her about me, tell her how much I loved you.''
`` This ca n't be happening.''
She smiled weakly,
`` I meant to tell you, but I was afraid. I'm sorry.''
She was pale now and the bed was soaked with orange liquid.
Her hand squeezed mine once more, then she was gone.
& nbsp;
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
& nbsp;
Jessie ran to the open car and got in, before we drove away from daycare. She was growing fast - faster than any human child. Soon we'd need to move again.
`` Tell me about mama Jacki again,'' she cooed, strapping herself into the passenger seat.
I smiled and told her - for the hundredth time - the story of how I met her mother.
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[ WP ] Two rival companies engage in escalating degrees of sabotage , from harmless productivity-halting pranks to full-on biological warfare and terrorism .
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`` All right, everyone.'' The CEO's tone was somber and serious. `` The new iPhone launches today and I do *not* want any hiccups like last time.'' He shot a daggered look at Marcelle, head of IT security, who had allowed the iPhone 9 to go out with a virus that turned any computer it synced with into a worthless brick. *That* had been a marketing snafu, but at least it had led to a massive spike in purchases for the MacBook Pro line. So much so that they'd considered allowing such an'accident' to happen again, but eventually decided to wait a bit to not raise suspicions. `` Jim,'' he said, turning to the head of retail security, `` Any updates? I want this to go smoothly, damn it!''
Jim look at his notebook with beads of sweat forming on his brow. He was the 8th head of retail security in the past year, and the welcome banner was already being made for # 9. `` We've been doing random sweeps of everyone lining up for the midnight launch,'' he said, voice quavering slightly. `` With bomb-sniffing dogs, metal detectors, and geiger counters.'' The CEO rolled his eyes. The'St. Louis Incident' was still fresh in everyone's mind, and Legal was still fighting lawsuits from survivors claiming that Apple was responsible for cleaning up all the radiation in the river. `` We've also been checking the stores every two hours,'' Jim continued. `` Looking for anything suspicious.''
The CEO nodded. `` We can do better. Make it every hour.''
Jim opened his mouth like he was going to make some excuse about how that was n't possible. Everyone at the table braced for the ensuing shitstorm. But Jim wisely shut it again and just nodded.
`` And the guards?'' the CEO asked. `` I'm going to be personally presenting the latest model. You'd better make damn sure that the theater is safer than fucking Fort Knox.''
Jim was beginning to sweat through his shirt by now.
`` We've hired Blackwater as additional security,'' he said, leafing quickly through his notes for any scrap of information that might appease the CEO. `` Roads have been blocked off in a three-mile radius. Guests at your speech will be required to remove all of their clothes and change into the new iShirt and iPants, which can measure their heartbeat and sweat levels. Anyone who gets the slightest bit nervous will be removed from the crowd and... interrogated.'' The CEO was not supposed to know what actually happened to them, for legal reasons. *Officially*, Apple had agreed to comply with the Geneva Conventions.
The CEO stared at Jim, eyes narrowed suspiciously. No one in the room dared even breathe. Jim gasped for air like he was in the early stages of a heart attack, but everyone was too afraid to look at him to verify.
`` Fine,'' the CEO said at last. He turned to Erin, head of Corporate Espionage. `` Tell me you've got good news. What is Microsoft planning? What about Samsung?''
Jim breathed a sigh of relief so loud that someone on the other side of the board room door could have heard it. He reached for the glass of water in front of him and gulped it down without even stopping to take a breath. Erin, meanwhile, was bearing the full brunt of the CEO's wrath. `` What do you mean, *they found out who your mole is?? * You only have *ONE*?!''
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[ WP ] We are each able to travel back in time 24 hours . However you are only able to once and you are considering using yours .
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I stood silently, shifting my weight from left to right and folded my arms tight against my chest. The distinct sound of windbreaker rubbing against itself gave off the only noise in the room. She seemed unmoved, and challenged my silence with gum smacking in perfect quarter note timing.
smack. *pause* smack. *pause* smack. *pause* smack. *pause*... Finally, I caved.
I began to stammer, `` Wh-wha-what do you MEAN, they're all gone?''
smack. *pause*
Her eyes widened as far as they could, through the dark eyeliner caked on thicker than a half frozen chocolate malt. She leaned in, ever so slightly. `` They all gone. They do n't got no more back there. Yesterday was the last day.''
Her words simply did not register. `` Well, what the F # @ % K?!'' I blurted out. She flinched away from me, as if I threw a brick at her. `` Oh HELL No you ai n't shoutin' at me like that and expec' me to sit here and listen to your bull-...'' I stopped listening halfway through her self righteous rant. `` AHHHHHH,'' I screamed, and bolted out of the front door, but not before colliding with an old, slow hobbling lady with a hand full of coupons.
`` FORGET ABOUT IT LADY, THEY AI N'T GOT NO MORE McRIBS!'' I was hysterical.
`` Oh my goodness,'' the old lady let out, half tipped-over and trying to gain her balance by grabbing onto my windbreaker.
`` HEY, WATCH THE APPAREL, GRAMS!'' I smacked her hand away like a child reaching for more dinner without asking for seconds.
`` Oh! Well, I never!'' She scolded, as she teetered back to her feet.
`` F # % & K this,'' I thought, as I stormed back to my'94 Trans Am. `` Today is the day. I have no reason to keep holding onto my ticket. I'm going back. I AM GOING BACK FOR A MCRIB, AND NO ONE CAN STOP ME!'' Just then, someone stopped me.
`` Excuse me, sir?'' A polite young woman approached my half rolled window. `` YA?'' I demanded. `` Oh, excuse me, but I was wondering if you heard that no body won the lottery last night? I have the winning numbers right here and it seems no one picked the correct combination yest-'' I cut her off. -'' oooh. My. GAWD. Blab! Blab! Blab! I do n't give a CRAP what you're selling lady! I have a date with destiny, if you'll excuseeeee me!'' I turned the key and revved my engine. *VROOOM* I backed over the curb into the McFlowers and peeled out; spewing dirt and daisy pedals all over the place as I vanished into the distance.
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[ WP ] A peaceful alien race is besieged by another race in the same galaxy . As their last planets fall and their home-world comes under threat they do the unthinkable . They ask for aid from the only known creatures more brutal than their foes in exchange for FTL technology . Humans accept the deal .
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Excerpts from the Chronicles of Zoros on the unleashing of the Daemons, Scourge or as known in one of their tongues Humans
`` You would unleash them! Those creatures onto the universe are you insane, have you not read a single report from the Ministry of Zoros on those Deamons.''
`` The war is lost we have to resort to any measure to weaken the Phermoncrates, they have conquered the Rim worlds and our allies the Zorotos and desecrated the Tribunal of Zoros we have no choice, if.we do not do something soon the Zorotos will lose Aeons of knowledge
Forever we will lose the knowledge of civilizations that have risen and fallen across the entire universe the Zorotos gave up there ways of war and pledged eternal peace to all races and to record all and they unknown time that has been their way recording everything so that any may research the history of a new section they colonise and know what dangers may lay from the previous fallen civilization''
`` Toros I understand that the knowledge is important but is it worth releasing the Scourge from the system known as Sol they consume everything they reach. Earth is but a husk as after millenia of war before the followers of Asatru finally gained full control of the scourge after cleansing all as they say'Heretics' it took them 10,000 thousand years to have peace most societies take one tenth the time.
And they did n't commit genocide to accomplish it!''
`` Zolondos we have no choice the Phermoncrates are already trying to commit Cultural genocide as we speak we must make contact with the Scourge it is are only hope. hár höfðingi Fenrir the ruler of the Scourge is known to have an inquisitive mind if our agents are correct and he has created a Mausoleum or Museum of the dead cultures and races of his species where knowledge is stored of the'cleansed Heretics' so that there ways are recorded I assure the Fenrir will agree to help there culture demands blood for as a right for adulthood and the long term peace for the past 200 years has led to'moral decadence' and'corruption of the youth' he will agree I assure you.''
`` Fine but Toros, if you're wrong if they do n't stop we are doomed you've seen how they treat their own species imagine what they might do to us if they finish the Phermoncrates and wish for more battle.''
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[ WP ] Your life is tied to that of a fig tree . It has never once flowered over the millennia that you have methodically taken care of it . Today , you notice a single flower beginning to grow
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Upon this celestial body, she had been tasked with resuscitating the nameless. Her soul wrought silk mantle had gleamed with mother of pearl, as she descended to serve. Yet, there dwelled within her no obligatory sentiment. To her this service was the fruition of the hereafter. And as such her iridescent fingertips tilled the soil, her firm lips siphoned the sky of Adam ’ s ale, and her formless pinions graced the aged seedling with a dome of protection. Many a solstice passed, and all lay still upon this celestial body. In serenity her sea green eyes glimmered with euphoric fervor. To whatever end this path led, every instant of this appointment tasted to her of ambrosia. The next moment must arrive in haste, but simultaneously the wretched parting of the previous moment brought anguish and turmoil to her spirit. The immensity of this war within her was felt across the heavens by her estranged soul-kin.
The vast awning of the amber sky set a stark contrast to the solitary lasting tree. And still, where the afro of verdant lifeblood should be found, there was only the pointy ends of well nourished branches. By the power of her coercion the rain fell, the soil stirred, the roots drank, and the plant sustained. Alas how her spirit yearned to be forever frozen in the act of quenching this thirst. To climb just above the place of ecstasy she inhabited, and to peak in a vortex of purpose. If only she could soar just a little higher. If only she could slip between the now and the coming. If somehow she could just iterate, or deviate, without diminishing. Parting her rain wet magma hue lips she let out a spirit-cry of sovereign desperation. In reply to the kaw of her duality the plant throbbed in symphony with her flaming passion, and in a searing cloud of sulfur they became one spirit.
The vibrant sky faded rapidly from the zenith of Azure to the reaches of the horizon. The bark was clad in silk and sang of glinting rubies, as she stood there and rested here. Each leg was planted firm, as roots drank deep and strong. In her left eye a super nova began, but refused to end. The vast cosmic darkness crowding in on the celestial body was merely a shadow cast by the blinding light in her other eye. The now was a cornucopia conferring her with every desire she could imagine, while the coming gave even more— all the satisfaction that she could consume. Without the now she would lack in desires and her aura would become obese and idle. Yet, without the coming she would suffocate herself in aspiring to the unattainable goal of complete fulfillment. However, with the now and the coming together she could revel in a suspended state of infinite desire mirrored by infinite satisfaction. Energy filled every microbe of her being, and poured out rapidly into the tree. Or was it the opposite?
The cycle quickened, and suddenly the output of energy shot up the course of a small branch and sprouted a supple fig. All of her desire amplified and her energy return experienced a minor dissipation. Still, she found a new satisfaction in this. A grander cosmic content. Expending herself, she gave more, and the fig grew. There would be many more figs, even other living things too. She knew this. And although she was in the now and the coming, she was no longer suspended. Now, the coming would slowly mean that she go. And still the fig grew.
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[ WP ] You enter an elevator to discover each floor is a year . The elevator is a time machine and you quickly realize that the top floor is troublingly 2021 .
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The building had always been under construction. Even from when my parents were young, they always recall the Daily Times building had always been being fixed. The crane was always on the roof and moving during the day. The crew was always running around, supplies were constantly being lifted to the roof, but no one can remember there being any progress.
The exterior of the building was known to change. Photographs proved that, but the tower never got any higher. Always 6 floors high. People in town never seemed too bothered by it, or the paradox of a building always being built but never getting any larger did n't seem to hold their attention for very long. I was different. I was curious. I was going to figure it out!
Going up at night was n't possible. No fire escapes, no ledges large enough for me to climb. The only way was to go up during the day while the crew was up there. The lobby was more or less empty. A reporter here or there would rush down the stairs and out the door. A sign hung on the elevator reading `` OUT OF ORDER''. If I was going to do this without getting caught, the stairs was out of the question. I forced open the doors and surprisingly found the car in front of me. I squeezed in and stood in the dark, flipping open my phone to give me some light. A small panel next to the doors was the only way I could see of operating the lift. I gingerly brushed dust off the screen. Instantly, the fluorescent lights popped on in the ceiling and the screen blinked to life.
'Current floor: 2015. Please enter desired floor number.' Below this was a touchpad with numbers zero through nine and a return button. I wanted to go to the top floor, so I pressed'6' and enter. The elevator started to descend quickly. The lights flickered and eventually went out. I closed my eyes, not knowing what to expect. When I opened my eyes, the lift was lit by firelight. A small lantern hung from the ceiling. The touchpad had been replaced by a series of numbered tumblers. The stainless steel doors were now rough wooden boards. Outside the lift was the sight of a dense forest and barely a trace of humanity. My phone had no service. Despite the curiosity to venture further, there was no way I was prepared to trek in the woods.
I pulled the doors of the lift closed again and tried to make sense of what had happened. I tried flipping the tumblers to'9999', but the lift refused to move. I remembered that I had started on 2015. Maybe it only went so high? I did some quick arithmetic in my head and tried rotating the tumblers to 2021. The lift lurched into motion, starting slowly and then beginning to gain speed. The acceleration almost pushed me into the floor. Again, the light flickered and went out.
When it had stopped again, the interior was back to normal. The pad was the same but the background and font of the touchpad had changed. The lights above me seemed to be a complex cluster of LEDs. The doors opened and the chaos of a construction site was visible. I stepped out onto the roof, looking at a jumble of walls and materials. Workers were milling around; some nailing frames, others sweeping up piles of debris, a few leaning on their tools chatting with one another. I snuck around the site, looking for anything to give me an idea of what was going on. While hiding behind a pile of drywall, I spotted a man in a pressed white shirt and hardhat was looking at a blueprint on a makeshift work table. He peeked over his shoulder.
`` You're already trespassing. You might as well come out now.'' I jumped as I realised he was talking to me. I slunk from my spot and stood beside him at the drawing. The floor plan was nothing like anything I'd seen before. It was a completely different concept in interior architecture. They called for materials I'd never heard of, spanned distances that normal beams would n't be able to take.
I pointed at the drawing and said `` Is this-''
`` The future?'' He cut me off before I could finish, `` you could say that.'' I sat there in silence for a moment, trying to take it all in.
`` But why stop here?'' He cocked an eyebrow at me, turned and put a hand on his hip.
`` Stop here? STOP HERE? Do you have **any** idea how hard it is to stay six years ahead of the curve? Trying to predict what trends will be popular? Who said we were going to stop?'' He looked at his watch, `` Speaking of stopping, I've spent enough time stopped here and need to keep going. I do n't mind you popping in if you want to keep an eye on us, but for now, I suggest you take the elevator back down to now. Whenever now is now. Anyways, I need to work, you need to leave.'' He started directing me back towards the lift, and watched me enter'2015' into the pad.
`` Oh, so that's what it is.'' He smiled and waved as the doors closed.
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[ MP ] America has collapsed , but the anthem can still be heard ringing out over burned buildings and decimated streets , hollowed out houses and cold corpses .
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It would have looked pretty normal if it was n't for the smashed windows. Suddenly it flared to life as bright roars of yellow appeared. Screams of pain and agony echoed. Suddenly life sprang back into the abandoned city. Silhouettes that could pass off as human from a distance were some parody of humans up close.
Long armed, long legged, and long bodies yet entirely faceless. They surrounded the skyscraper echoing the screams. Their heads shook as if the act itself caused the horrifying sounds. The faceless beings ran into the building like a stampede.
`` I need to get to the top!'' More gunfire rang out.
The group banded across the office and cubicles. The faceless were not much farther behind. As they shifted into a stairwell two men sprayed their automatic weapons into the doorway.
`` Captain, we've got this stairwell covered. Just get up top''
Three people now, they ran as fast as they could up the stairwell. As if some cruel joke it only led to another floor but not the roof. They moved on ignoring oozing sacks and a floor caked with dried blood. Pulsating sacks bursted into faceless and gunfire thundered again. Down in the stairwell the two men held back a wave of faceless. A sad clink was heard. They dropped their weapons and ran up.
`` They are not taking us alive''
`` I hear ya'' They skidded to a halt. A wave of meaty faceless creatures tackled them into the wall. The stairwell then exploded.
`` Fucking faceless, fucking grey zone, fuck this''
A woman stopped in her tracks and began firing her rifle into the faceless horde. She cursed under her breathe and the rifle dropped on the floor as she opted to reach into a backpack. Sick, maniacal laughter erupted from her as she flung incendiaries. The floor was charred and cooked but so was she.
It was down to two now. Another stairwell, it needed to be the right one. It was but the horde continued.
`` Captain, I'll hold them here'' She nodded and continued onto the roof. The man left behind reloaded and prepared himself. Gunfire and more gunfire, a tossed grenade giving him a short respite. It did not last.
She barred the door.
`` Command, this is Captain Catelyn McLachlan. I am requesting Priority Targeting on the Cadilliac Building.''
`` Ca n't evac, proceed with targeting?''
`` Fucking do it''
Her radio crackled and produced static.
*Detroit was always a hell hole was n't it? All these burnt out homes and the burnt out buildings were already here. Sirens every day, gunshots every day, and if it was n't that it was just quiet. *
*It normally is pretty quiet. The view is pretty good up here too. Too bad my squad is dead. *
Her gun producing a bang. The American Anthem continued to echo across the city. It mocked them, it mocked the city, and it mocked what it once meant. Some sick being wanted to toy with what little there was in it.
[ Edit ] ( # s `` edit: Eurgh, I lost my muse while writing this. Could n't really capture what I wanted.'' )
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[ WP ] You 're a veteran Time Officer who has successfully policed public time travel for years . Write about the one that got away and changed history as we know it now .
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Time travel is a great past-time. Hah. Always liked that ad slogan. Everyone knows the rules: Take nothing physical, limit your physical interaction with the inhabitants, and leave nothing behind. We also limit when you can travel to the Common Era and the two hundred years immediately prior. Further back, and its hard to figure out what changes will result from a trip, and no one is allowed to travel within their own lifetime. That means that everything that happens is in history books and can be studied. The core history is stored in a tachyon-shielded vault, and checks between the shielded and unshielded histories are run by an AI daily. I mean we assume that almost everyone screws up somehow, grabs a pebble as a souvenir, not knowing that that particular pebble was meant to trip a small child so that he fell short of a rearing horse a hundred years later. In cases of accidental sabotage, we have teams dedicated to scattering pebbles, nudging walls back where they were, and distracting our more intelligent predecessors.
And most deliberate saboteurs are easy: They always kill Hitler. Always. Its like a dare, a challenge. As soon as someone decides they want to meddle, they pop back in time, and cap Hitler. He's been lasered, shot, poisoned, vaporized, exploded, burned, infected with super-syphilis ( that was a fun one ) and drowned once. However, there is so much time traffic surrounding him that it is n't hard to nudge things back where they should be.
It is also surprisingly easy to protect a very powerful person, and since there's a very visible tachyon glow about a time traveler that is visible through green glass lenses, we just stuck our blondest agents on him 24/7, and gave them a pair of green contacts. We average about 22 failed attempts per week. Our agent's gun is designed to reverse the time stream manipulations, so he points, shoots, and they pop back to where they came from, much the worse for wear. Trust me when I say that being forced back through time is called harrowing for a reason. The lucky keep their sanity and just have an eternal fear of sudden noises, airplanes, and ocean waves. Yes, always those three, and no, we do n't know why.
As I said, they always go after Hitler. Except when they do n't. Then it gets messy. Body doubles, permanent assignments to maintain historical integrity. Hell, one of my best agents is currently Vercingetorix in Gaul, because some freaking moron of a time traveler leaned on a cart of manure at the wrong time, and the cart rolled over a twelve year old who was meant to unify the Gallic peoples against Caesar. We'll fake his death of course, but you do n't come back from deep cover assignments like that easily.
I'm still haunted by one that we ca n't fix. James Raider, one of the pioneers of time travel, who created this institute and popularized the tourist persona broke three of our rules at once. He traveled back to within his own timeline, and saved the life of his daughter at the cost of his own. In our prime history, her death is the all-consuming factor that leads to the breakthroughs in matter transportation, data manipulation, and tachyon bending that make time alteration possible. In this world, it was watching himself do this that led to the same outcome, but now Isabelle Raider lives. Her every interaction past the age of four has rewritten time, but with no history to tell us it was wrong, we have to let it stay. James knows that he'll have to make the same trip in about six months to guarantee Isabelle's life, and he's resigned to it. I'll miss him.
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[ WP ] You 're the Captain of a star ship who 's sole job is to find the remains of a vessel that went missing years ago . Even with all the latest , best technology and crew at your disposal , you have n't found them , until you detect their distress signal coming from inside a black hole .
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*Typical. *
It was the only word written on Captain Julius Randwick's report of day 143, year 2725. He twiddled the pencil about his fingers, before placing the butt end in his mouth thoughtfully. An archaic tool, but Randwick very much liked it anyway. Thoughts felt more tangible, more understandable when they were etched out in graphite right in front of you.
The senior crew of the NGC-B400 bustled around him one the bridge. There were 61 of them all together, including Randwick. The NGC-B400 had room for them all and many hundreds more. The bridge and command deck, life support systems, urine and oxygen recycling and fuel tanks were all stored at the front of the ship. The living quarters ( comfortable enough, Randwick had his Captain's quarters to himself ) stretched back behind the hulking spherical command centre of the ship in a long, trailing tendril. It was this that gave the the B400 it's universally recognisable look, and earned it the nickname across the inhabited worlds as *The Tadpole*.
1st officer Sarah Casey startled Randwick by coming up behind him.
'Captain, we've got nothing in today, request permission to offline all the nonessential systems and retire for the night'.
Randwick did n't much like Casey. She, like everything else on this technical marvel except his pencil made him feel less human everyday.
'Yes... Yes of course officer. *Tadpole* auxiliary power down in five minutes.' It was a phrase he'd said exactly 643 times, once on each of the 643 days he'd been captain of the ship.
She turned and briskly walked away. Randwick struggled to avoid watching her long legs move as she left, before hastily turning back to his report.
*Typical*
The word on the page had n't changed. There really was nothing more to say.
Suddenly a hiss flew through the Captain's ear piece.
'Captain, Captain!' It was the anxious voice of the navigator, Pressly. More anxious than usual; Randwick could almost feel the spit flying from Pressly's mouth as he shouted down the line in his thick, Irish accent.
'We've got something, we've got a distress signal from *The Monarch*'
'What?!' Randwick barked.'Repeat, Navigator Pressly.'
'We've got a distress signal from the, err... *The Monarch* captain.'
'Run a full systems check and reboot, and make sure all detection equipment is functioning correctly'. Randwick ran a hand through what remained of his hair after almost two years in command.
'Already done Captain! It's here, less than 60 clicks'
'Exactly *where* Pressly?'
'Well captain' his voice lowered slightly'that's the thing, it seems to be coming from... seems to be coming from a black hole'
'A black hole?!' Randwick slumped back in his chair.'Pressly, light ca n't even escape a black hole, how could a radio wave transmission be broadcast out to us from *The Monarch*? Double check the systems.'
'I can confirm we've checked all systems thoroughly sir, the finest detection systems in the universe are confirming a distress beacon coming from the black hole approximately 58 clicks UNW from here.' That was technician Asuma, probably the most brilliant star ship technician assigned to a naval vessel.
Randwick was flabbergasted. If there was one thing that he trusted above the laws of physics it was *The Tadpole*.
'Okay' he murmured to himself,'Okay, okay here we go'. He flicked on the system to speak with the whole crew simultaneously.
'All personal, we've received a weak but plentiful distress signal from a system believed to be that of *The Monarch*. All free time and non-essential duties are suspended indefinitely. Assemble on the bridge at once.'
He turned his comm system to first officer Casey.'Casey, I want full power on the anti-gravitation systems; I want this ship at full manoeuvrability and as close as we can get to that black hole without being crushed.'
'Yes Captain' She paused.'Good luck, sir'.
Randwick smiled to himself, before crossing out the only world on his report.
This was it.
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NSFW [ WP ] It is 2016 , and Pornhub has launched their sextape in space mission . During the filming , things go horribly wrong .
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DAY 1
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**Hello? Does anyone copy? **
No? *fuck*. Guess I'm on my own out here.
Alright, for posterity's sake -- um. This is acting captain Sasha Grey, of the 3rd Interplanetary Sexploration Unit. I'm trapped in my craft and running low on oxygen.
Running the inventory, it looks like I've got... *hell*, um an extra-large vibrator, some weed plants, a couple hundred yards of bondage cord, and more condoms than I know what to do with.
**I am going to have to science the *shit* out of this tin can to survive. **
DAY 7
--
**Hey again. I know nobody's out there. **
I know -- well I know I'm probably no going to make it back alive. Mom, if you're hearing this -- I'm sorry. It must be stressful, being a sextronaut's mother.
The cannabis plants are giving the air system just the extra push they needed to stay functioning. It's certainly got it's own funk, but I've got breathable air up here.
The real problem is food. The K-Rations we have up here are filling, but I'm down to my last two packs, and I have to conserve what's left.
God, I'm fucking hungry. Honestly, at this point I'd even eat --
***Wait -- * would that fucking work? **
Day 12
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**Well, it turns out fake cum tastes better than the real thing. **
Methylcellulose, the stuff they shoot out of fake dicks for every SpacePorn shoot. How did I fucking miss it?
It's high calorie and space-portable. Even comes in squeezable containers. Now dinnertime just feels nostalgic.
The best part is; there's *months* worth of the stuff. We use up about 20 liters of it per *scene*.
With the food problem gone, all that really remains is the issue of transport. I'm adrift out here -- I've got a little delta V, maybe enough to point me in the right direction, but nowhere near enough to get me home.
**C'mon Sash, how the hell are you gon na get out of this one? **
DAY 17
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**Okay. I guess... I guess if my luck does n't hold up, this might be my last transmission. **
I feel pretty ridiculous, guys. I've tied the bondage cord over my skinsuit in a turtle-shell knot -- finally, my sextronaut training comes in handy, right?
It should distribute my weight evenly when I jump out into the black, to try to rig the ship.
With what, you ask? Well. Hm.
I've used up about 7000 condoms to create this stretchable, lightweight mesh. I've coated the surface of it all with evaporated aluminum from the engineering bay.
It's a latex solar sail.
Is this stupid? I'm pretty sure it is. But *fuck me* if I die out here without trying everything I can.
**Fuck. Wish me luck. **
Day 26
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**Thrusters are go. **
So today's the day, I guess. I'm pointing this bucket sun-wards, where the sails will catch the most light.
If the sails are functional, I should see some acceleration in the next few minutes or so. If not... well I'm hoping it does n't come to that.
... c'mon you fucker.
*come on! *
Is that it? Is that -- **yes! **
Day 42
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**Hailing all ships on all frequencies! Yeah, I know you can hear me now, ya bastards. **
This is the ISU *Santorum*, sending an emergency shortwave SOS. Any of you fellas want to help a girl out?
*Fuck. * Looks like I've made it. First thing I'm going to do is wipe the grime off me. Maybe eat some food that does n't look and taste like cum.
And after that?
I think I've earned a great fucking lay.
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[ WP ] The Mythbusters series came to an end , but the hosts ca n't handle not filming it anymore . Somehow they have feed their desire to bust myths .
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It's a blue little bed, with sheets that smell faintly of lavender.
Adam lies on his back, staring at the ceiling. His breath comes in quiet rasps and fits.
`` *Thirty years, you oaf*,'' he murmurs.
Jamie sits at the bedside, unreadable. `` Thirty years of what?''
`` *Thirty years... and you still wo n't admit we're friends. *''
His mustache quivers, slightly. `` Because we're not.''
Adam's face, wracked with pain, somehow creases into a familiar, mischievous smile. `` * Wan na bet on it? *''
Jamie returns the smile. `` I like them odds. What stakes?''
`` *That... damned silly beret of yours. *''
`` Alright, if you'll wager something I've wanted for a long time.''
`` *And what's that? *''
`` For you to admit I'm right.''
`` *About what? *''
He mulls this over for a moment.
`` Everything.''
Adam sighs.
`` *Jamie, you obstinate, overblown, emotionless robot. I've put up with you for nearly a quarter of a century. I've blown up airplanes, driven rocket-sleds into concrete walls -- fired people out of* **cannons** *for chrissakes, and I have n't seen your mustache so much as twitch. *''
That mustache bristles now with righteous indignation. `` Well **someone** has to keep a calm head about this kind of stuff. We are n't all immature cowboys who fire from the hip and blow stuff up for kicks --''
Adam coughs. Little flecks of blood track across the sheets.
`` *Can a dying man finish his sentence? *''
`` Sure.'' Replies Jamie, sullenly.
`` *Thirty friggin years with you. *'' Adam wheezes. `` *And I would n't trade them, * **or you** *for the world. *''
`` And why's that?''
His breaths are shorter now -- coming in sudden, urgent gasps.
`` *Because... I might not have been your friend. But you sure as hell were mine. *''
Jamie's hand rises, almost unbidden, to clasp the dying man's. Something has broken -- some internal line has been crossed. The light in Adam's eyes fades -- grows dimmer by the second.
`` *Jamie. *''
`` Yes, Adam?''
`` *You were right. About everything. Always have been. *''
Jamie breathes deeply. And for a moment, across the breadth of that stony, bristling face, there is a flash of sorrow, deep and unending.
`` Took you long enough.'' he says.
But by then, he is speaking to an empty room.
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Hours later, after the usual carousel of friends, family, doctors, fans --
After the sun has set, after the bed has been cleared, after the room is quiet, silent and empty --
He sneaks in through an unlocked door, carrying a little board under one arm.
He sets it quietly on the floor -- pulls a little triangle of metal and glass from his back pocket. Eyes firmly shut, he puts both hands on the board.
`` Adam? Adam, can you hear me?''
He waits.
Minutes turn to hours.
In time, sunlight creeps slowly through the blinds.
He looks out into the morning, and smiles wryly into a world that feels just a little emptier.
`` **Busted. **''
In the morning, the nurses find a crumpled Ouija board and a worn beret on an empty bed.
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[ WP ] An adolescent boy who is bullied at school finds solace in the friends he makes in online games , becoming very good friends with one boy in particular . However , when they agree to meet up , the adolescent boy realises his best online friend is his main attacker at school .
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Bulldogs715z: cool see u at gamestop then! ill be there in 20 minutes it's only a few blocks from my house
jjjak3eee: oh thats hella close
Bulldogs715z: yeah u know where luther high is i can meet u there
Bulldogs715z: im pretty familiar since i go to school there lmao its down the street from gs
What the fu -- are you serious? How is it that Bulldogs715z attends Luther High School and I attend Luther High School?
jjjak3eee: ayeee thats a good idea
jjjak3eee: meet you by the mosh pit
Play it cool... You know, because only students at Luther High School know where the'mosh pit' is, the lawn in front of the school that floods when it rains and where the football team rallies up. My hands are getting a bit clammy. Excitement is taking its toll on my body. The thought of actually meeting someone who goes to my school and being able to talk during lunch or break instead of hiding in the library made me smile.
Bulldogs715z: there you go!!! dude you go to lhs??
Bulldogs715z: my best friend taylor is coming to but dont trip hes a cool dude plays football with me
A gasp leaves my mouth. All of a sudden I feel a pain in my throat and I ca n't breath. My body tenses and my eyes are fixated on'best friend taylor' because the only football player I know named Taylor is best friends with Zack.
My hands are beyond clammy. The excitement that filled the air literally seconds ago have evaporated into a calm, icy chill down my back. It ca n't be. It simply can not be. Is Bulldogs715z Zack? The perpetrator who has been making my life a living hell for the past five years? Zack, who tied me up to the flag pole during lunch with athletic tape? The guy who forced Easy Cheese in my mouth and down my pants, Zack?
Bulldogs715z: dude u there? im about to leave
Bulldogs715z: im gon na be wearing my football jersey it has my name in big ass letters ZACK
You got to be fucking kidding me.
jjjak3eee is typing...
But Bulldogs715z is my friend. I played WoW and Minecraft and even Runescape with Bulldogs715z every single day since 7th grade. He even sent me a code so we could buy BioShock together. He is the only friend I have.
jjjak3eee: just my luck my mom got a flat tire so i have to babysit my sis until she gets home
jjjak3eee: i'm prolly gon na have to get it tomorrow
Bulldogs715z: fuckin lame its sall good c ya online later
*Bulldogs715z logged off. *
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[ WP ] A group of monsters from the same dungeon decide to form their own party and raid a local castle .
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Mist sneaked it's way across the moats surface, starlight highlighting it's swirling form as the wraith neared his objective. When heroes ventured to their dungeon, they were the best, alert and powerful. The guard that was between the realms of waking and sleep was not so well guarded. effortlessly the wraith slipped into his yawning mouth and into his mind. Blank faced and wide eyed the guard Erik Font, aged twenty four, slit his own throat and slipped wordlessly into the moat with a splash.
Upon hearing the distant splash the form of a man that had be crouched just out of sight began to move, each step that carried him toward the now unwatched wall caused his form to shift a little more. By the time he reached the stone foundation he was more beast that man, a bipedal wolf whose clawed hands hooked into the flag stone with ease. As mist coiled about the lycanthrope it faded into obscurity. A chameleon with foaming jowls scaling the walls of Castle Esphur.
Patrols along the walls were common and at this time a group of two guards made it's way towards the spot where the duo made their ascent. Even with the magic of the wraith obscuring them the flaming torches would reveal them both.
For the alarm to be raised so soon would be the end of their plan the dark elves mind was made up. Arrows flew and landed with a muffled thump followed by strained gargles. Both guards had their throat pierced with arrows bound with the feathers of the raven. Whispering under his breath the bodies withered to dust leaving only two ravens in their stead. They looked about cautiously then took flight, heading east and disappearing into the dark night.
The pair had completed their climb and the wraith flitted off without word towards the barracks. The morning would find many grieving families for the death of their children.
The Lycans eyes were distracted momentarily by a pair of birds taking flight, the urge to hunt rising in him, force of will restraining his urges.
**THE JAIL**
The words boomed in the primal mind
**FIND HIM**
With that the wolf leapt, jumping the gap from wall to building top, making his way fast. Tiles slipping and breaking, walls cracking under the imposing frame. Diving finally and explosively through a closed window with wooden shutters
**HHHHOOOOOWWWWWWLLLLLL**
Erupting noise from it's throat startled the men gathered within the room, flashing claws and bared fangs painted walls red with their blood. There was barely time for the last of them to croak a `` help'' before fangs sank into the back of his neck, body dragged from the room without a head. The Lycan snacking as he sniffed the rancid jails air.
**FIND HIM**
The dark skinned elf sighed sitting atop the wall as the howl ripped through the silence of the night. `` A beast you are, with a beasts unruly mind to boot''. Notching his bow a loosed arrow sunk into the back of a scrambling town guard. From his hidden vantage point the loose patrols were dispatched as they hurried towards the disturbance. The alarm was raised though and soon the keeps garrison would be loose paladins and all. They were on borrowed time.
Snarling the lycan's search continued prisoners cowered as it pressed it's eye to the jail doors scanning for the form of his quarry. The scent growing stronger still as he padded down the corridor a trail of blood and organs behind him.
In a small cell, no window or hole to shit in he found him. Huddled over, weary and starving. The low rumbling growl gave way to the sound of a door being shorn from its hinges and flung away. Great terrible hands curled around the broken body and with gentleness he carried him away.
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[ WP ] The first contact with extraterrestrial life is made by a random earth citizen via Tinder .
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`` No, its just uhh... it's just that I did n't think you would actually be *blue*. Yes, I did swipe right but I thought you just had like make up on! Like you were in a play or something? You did say you were the artistic type. I did n't know that it was a'condition'.
Oh God, please do n't cry. I did n't mean it like that. Its actually pretty sexy. No, I'm not just saying that. You could totally be Zoe Saldana. You know how hot guys found her in the Avatar?
I'm sorry, we got off on the wrong foot. Its just that I'm a little nervous. I mean, when you told me the address, I did n't think it would be in the middle of an empty field.
Oh, yeah it does suck being from out of town. I remember, when I first moved out to the city last year I missed the outdoors as well. You get used to it after awhile. Yeah, its definitely hard to see the stars from downtown.
You know, this is actually my first time going on a Tinder date as well. I'm being totally serious. Working in the research field, I hardly ever get time to go out and meet people.
Oh you do n't want to hear about it! It's just biology stuff. What about you? What do you do?
A pilot?! Get out! That's amazing! Do you fly commerical?
Wow, so you get your own private plane? That's badass! I did a little bit of flying myself back in the day. But its been awhile.
Hey, see that star up there? The one all the way to the left by itself. Yeah, it is Greidrui! I've never met anybody else that knew that. You a Astronomy nerd as well? No way in hell, you know more about space than me!
Yeah well, did you know that NASA released a report last year saying that Gredirui was the closest object to Earth that was capable of holding life? Oh, you did?
Then did you know, this is the only city on Earth from which you can see it. That's because its the closest point to it. If there was a civilization out there and they ever planned to visit Earth, they would probably land here as it would be the shortest path.
You did n't hear that bit? Yeah, NASA does n't know that yet. Where did I hear it then?
I'm from Greidrui, Samantha.
It's no joke. You see, we were able to study and replicate human form before we landed. But when we got here, we realized that we were invisible to the average human being due to existing on a spectrum that human eyes can not perceive. However, we could still interact with objects and therefore technology became the best way too communicate. But no one will take us seriously on the internet. Our only option was to find a way to make ourselves visible. So we set up accounts on dating websites and such so as to set up face to face meetup times. You are the first person ever that can actually see me. It must be your unique condition.
Samantha, when you asked what I did in my field. I collect samples. And unfortunately, I'm actually here on business.''
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[ WP ] Humanity is the idiot savant of the galaxy . We 're terrible at almost everything compared to every other race , but we surpass them in spades in one thing .
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We would try and kill them. We've run scenarios on how to kill them. We've seen them kill each other. But to try eliminate them all. It borders complete impossibility.
They're just way too good at sex. It's not even that their really skilled at it. That title belongs to the Zendians. They just have copious amounts of sex. Their reproduction rate is about 10 times faster than even the most horniest. It's rumored that even their sperm count is in the millions.
While jealous some of us may be, there's nothing we can really do about it. All we can do is continue our studies.
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[ WP ] At your grandfather 's side , he whispers to you , `` I 'm dying , and I ca n't keep him at bay any longer . I 'm so sorry . ''
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**BROUGHT TO YOU BY NO PRE-WRITING**
`` Yes, Grandfather. I understand. Is there anything you'd like me to do to ease your pain?''
Still in a pain-driven anger, although he now lay bleeding something inhuman on our kitchen floor, he forced himself onto his forearms and knees. Thick, dark liquid dripped from the wound somewhere on his torso and pooled on the floor. `` End me quickly, Endacht, gather everyone you know and trust, and run. Hide and become warriors through practice. Give him no chance.''
I nodded, tears welling in my eyes but never dropping. He would n't respect that.
At eleven years old, I killed a man for the first time.
Now we run, preparing for when he catches up with us. I still have Grandfather's sword, the one I killed him with. The one I drew from his back and drove through his head.
Tomorrow we will reach our destination. Seven years, an ocean, and four hundred gathered allies later, we will reach the gate of Castle Atmori. The home of my ancestors, in ruins now.
Over the coming months and years, we will rebuild and fortify the castle, prepare the miles around it to give us an advantage in the coming war, and recruit those of the kingdoms nearby.
I saw him that morning of my grandfather's death. One knight against the most revered swordsman in centuries. A duel, agreed by both, the sword now mine thrust once toward the knight, ripped out of the swordman's hand and thrown into the air. It came down with such force as to impale the swordsman.
The knight had removed his helmet and smiled at me as the swordsman collapsed through the door. A smile that haunts me to this day- a challenge. What scares me the most is the fact that I look more and more like him each day.
My father.
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[ EU ] How would the story of Death Note unfold if L was replaced with Sherlock from the BBC series ?
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The tall man in dark clothes strode across the field of graves towards the one name that mattered. His manner was sharp; his posture immaculate to the point of seeming prideful. He went unseen by most who were at the cemetery that day, although imposing was his overall figure, but those who looked upon him did not understand him, did not see beyond the bravado and intellect a grieving man who had lost his closest friend.
The name John Watson was etched across the grey face of the headstone. The tall man did not need to see it to know it was there. Some things are better believed than seen. There was a time he would not have believed that even, but now it seemed he had no choice. He stood with his hands crossed behind his back, looking over at the line of trees ahead.
`` Light Yagami is dead,'' said the man. `` Thought you'd want to know. I cornered him inside a warehouse at the docks. His accomplice arrived at the last minute, to save his beloved Kira, just as I knew he would. Only, I had switched out his notebook at the last minute. Given him a fake one. Neither of them ever knew. You should have seen the look on his face. When he knew how long I knew I had won.''
The breeze carried a scent of grass. The man took a deep breath.
`` I'm sorry I did n't come for the funeral,'' he said. `` It would have been the proper thing to do. The right thing. It's what you would have done. But you know me. I'm not as strong as you.''
`` I do know you, Sherlock,'' said someone from behind. `` In fact, I would have taken it personally if you had showed up.''
Disbelief spread over the raven-like man, all the way down to his feet, which took half a step back. He composed himself.
`` You're alive,'' he said.
`` And you're sad,'' said Watson, grinning. `` You should see the look on *your* face. It's quite priceless.''
`` You faked your death.''
`` You're not the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve,'' said Watson. `` I was a distraction. You needed me gone to catch Kira. Out of the picture. As long as I was alive, I was a liability, someone you had to keep safe.''
`` Kira found out your name,'' said Sherlock. `` I thought he was the one who made you... I saw you. You were dead. You fell.''
`` Fortunately, you're not a doctor,'' said Watson. `` Kira knew my name. He could have written it down at any moment. He had to believe I did it myself, terrified of the sort of death I might be subjected to if I did n't take matters into my own hands. So I took matters into my own hands. And you, you had to believe me. You had to see it. I'm sorry.''
Sherlock put his hands in his pockets and looked away.
`` You know,'' he said after a moment, `` You might not be so ordinary after all. Thank you.''
`` What was that?''
`` Do n't push your luck.''
Watson bit his lips together and stifled a laugh.
`` Well,'' said Sherlock, `` since you're not *dead*, I see no need for us to be here any longer.''
They began walking back over the grass, the air considerably warmer than it had seemed when Sherlock had arrived.
`` Why do n't we go back to the flat,'' said Watson. `` I've told Mrs. Hudson to keep some tea ready for us.''
Sherlock stopped and thrust his hands up in outrage.
`` *She* knew?'' he said. `` Oh fantastic! I do all the work and get no credit.''
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[ WP ] Make me afraid of the dark
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A few years ago, I was in a rough state. I'd been living without a roof over my head for months and winter was on it's way, and winter here is n't something I wanted to face out on the streets. After much deliberation, I decided to do something that I would have once thought unthinkable.
I broke into an old abandoned home. It just looked like any old condemned house from the early 1900's. The rooms were cleared of furniture and the wallpaper was rotten and peeling, but it was a roof, and it would protect me from the cold November winds. I moved my supplies in that afternoon. I had a sleeping bag and cheap foam pillow, the kind that's sold for car or bus passengers, along with a kerosene tank with a lamp attachment, and my old guitar Susanne.
The first night, I slept like a baby. The wind howled through the old pine trees at the end of that old dirty road and I knew that I could get my life on track one day at a time. I did n't like the idea of breaking the law, but I was desperate, I had no money and I was trying to get clean. I slept comfortably for a few days, before the sounds started.
It was quiet at first. A creak here, a pop there, in the middle of the night. I did n't think much of it. It was just old pipes, I told myself. The house was older than my dad. I did my best to ignore it and went back to sleep, and that was that. Night after night, the noises continued and I did n't pay them much thought.
December came.
I woke up one morning in another room. Rather than the front right room of the house, I found myself in the foyer, sleeping on the cold stone floor. I stirred awake and pulled myself to a stand. It was dark and my lamp was glowing in the next room. I slowly pulled myself up to a stand and pop- There went another pipe.
And then I heard footsteps behind me. I turned on my heel and saw nothing but darkness in the next room. I got my lamp by the handle and investigated. The house was empty on the first floor, and the stairs were old and rotten so I was n't going to check up there. I went back to bed after calming my nerves.
The next day, I visited my neighbor for the first time. She was an elderly woman who lived near the street. She offered me food and breakfast once I told her my story, and when she asked where I'd been staying, she had this wary look about her face and suggested that I stay in her son's old room upstairs.
I politely declined. I left after raking the leaves in her front yard and returned home. That night, I fell asleep with a large board by my sleeping bag, something to defend myself if I needed it. I thought it was funny, and that I was giving myself the heebie jeebies for no reason.
I woke up in the very early hours of the morning being dragged down a hallway. I screamed at the top of my lungs and flailed my hands against the walls, my fingernails digging into rotten wallpaper. I could n't see anything, but I felt the unmistakable feel of something pulling my feet.
I could n't do anything but scream and scream. I was pulled into a closed door at the end of the hallway. The force released me. I got up and ran for my life in the darkness, feeling around an unfamiliar layout.
I reached an open area with a cracked window and I realized that I was upstairs. How could I have been upstairs? The stairs were rotten, with holes and missing sections. There was no way that I'd have been dragged up there, especially since I weighed some 200lbs. I felt a warm breath on the back of my neck and heard a mass of footsteps again in the darkness. With the stairs behind me, I made a run and jumped for it. I hit the floor and my ankle pulled, but my adrenaline made me ignore it.
I smashed through the front door and ran screaming into the wilderness.
After an hour, I found myself on the highway. A car stopped with the driver getting out to assist me. I was delirious, with my feet bloodied by the run through the rough forest and my mind consumed with fright.
The police took me in and I was taken to a care center. I told them everything, the footsteps, the waking up being dragged, the breath, everything.
They told me the house I'd supposedly stayed at burned down in 1955.
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[ WP ] You 're sitting on a chair , looking in the eye of the killer who is going to kill you in 20 seconds .
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The most ironic part of the situation would have to be this guys bullshit bluff. He should know, if he is who he says he is, that this is n't my first rodeo. I'm almost sure it's his though, his constant pacing and shaky trigger finger is a dead give away to guys like me.
How I ended up here is the funny part of it all, my job has landed me here the previous three times I've landed myself in this situation. This time it's by some guy who thinks I got some money or drugs stashed somewhere... He has n't made himself clear yet, what he does n't know is my bitch ex-wife makes sure I do n't have enough money to stash anywhere. Jokes on him.
Here I sit, duct taped to my kitchen chair, awoken out of one of the few good night sleeps I've had in a few weeks. Sadly, these days jet lag does more to my sleep cycle then the usual asset gigs I do over seas. I'm wondering how much this guy is actually after?
`` I ca n't find shit!'' I hear coming from up stairs.
`` Tell me where the shit is at, NOW!'' He's screamed, voice breaking from the force behind it.
`` What shit do you speak of?'' I asked calmly, maybe so calm it scared him.
`` 10 seconds or I shoot!''
`` Listen, what you are doing here.. I know.'' I explain. `` I've been here a few times, more often in your end then mine, same strategy usually too. Grab'em when they think they're the safest.''
`` 5 seconds!''
`` I'm not sure why you think I would have whatever it is you're looking for, a nice house, tax fee government job and the like does n't mean I have''
I was interrupted by a light flash. He was n't bluffing.
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[ WP ] Whenever someone says `` Jesus Christ , '' he comes down from heaven in a heavenly beam of sunlight because he thinks you 're talking to him .
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`` Damn, Mike. You're pretty good at this.'' Ralph said. Mike and Ralph were the best of friends, and they were hanging out at Mike's house playing the new Call of Duty game. Mike was dominating the competition.
All of the sudden, Mike suffered a big loss. His console crashed, exiting out of the game and turning off the game console, displaying a green screen that read some random error code that Mike and Ralph did not understand.
`` Aw, Jesus Christ!'' Mike yelled in a fierce rage, jumping up from his seat.
The two sat there, blankly staring at the green display that was mocking them. Mike slumped down into his bean bag seat and shook his head. He was muttering curses under his breath.
Suddenly, outside the window, the dark night was lit by a cleansing light.
`` What the hell?!'' Ralph gasped. They quickly darted their heads to the window, but could n't since the blinding light was piercing their eyes.
The white light focused through window started to slowly make its way up the opposite wall of the room, as if something that was emitting this light was descending upon them. The light dimmed to an eerie glow.
Ralph looked up to the window in panic, only to see a broad man wearing a beige robe leaning through the open window, even though it did not open before. He had large, curly hair and a lengthy beard. By his look, he looked like he was the wisest man that everyone knows.
`` Good evening, my Children,'' The man said, `` did you want to speak to me?''
`` Who the hell are you?!'' Ralph shrieked.
`` I am Jesus of Nazareth. You should know this, since you called for me.''
At the opposite side of the room, Mike was typing things on his phone with his eyes wide open.
`` Mike Turner, what is it that you are doing? You seem very focused.''
`` Err... Not telling the word to convert to Christianity.'' He tilted his phone up towards Jesus.
`` You just took a picture of me, did n't you? That is alright. Mind if I join you for a game of'Call of Duty'?
`` We- Uh... Sure.'' Ralph said.
Jesus hopped through the window and played COD for the rest if the night. Ralph thought that Jesus was super chill, and was a fun guy.
`` I know.'' Said Jesus with a smug smile.
This is literally the best writing prompt ever. It was super fun to write! I dot know how to separate the lines to make this look like a legit paragraph, so sorry if it seems messy.
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[ WP ] You 're a minion in an RTS or 4X game -- perhaps a marine in Starcraft or a musketeer in Civilization -- and the war is going badly for your side .
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We lost the East Bridge today. Along with William, he was a good soldier, a good husband, a good friend. It'll take me some time to write his letter home.
If I even get the time. My men are exhausted, we have been pushed to hell and back and we have almost nothing to show for it. We are trapped behind enemy lines with little food, little ammunition, and almost no way home. And the worst part of it all is that the army is losing more and more men by the day here in the East, and reports from the Western lines show the same. Entire battalions have fallen and even if we sacrifice a city, we still lose thousands the next day. They have us surrounded, cornered like petrified rats.
The East Bridge was the one thing between my men and salvation, the only way to escape behind enemy lines and get back home. But home is gone. Home for most of us has been gone for some time, we all lost something in this war, and our nation continues to lose. If I ca n't bring my men home, if I ca n't do the one thing that I promised their wives and children, then what kind of commander am I? If I ca n't fight for them, then what am I fighting for?
I'm fighting for them. I'm fighting for their wives and children. I'm fighting for the only home I know. I'm fighting for my brothers and sisters in arms. I'm fighting for my nation. I'm fighting for my race.
We'll keep fighting, we always will. It's what we were trained to do and I know my men, they are loyal and they will fight until their very last breath. But without the East Bridge, our nation loses everything. Without the East Bridge, the enemy can waltz their tanks straight through it. Without the East Bridge, the only home we know is left will be destroyed.
We are the last line of defense. And tonight, we will be the first line of offense. We are moving in, we are going to kill every last one of them, and we are going to save this nation by destroying the East Bridge.
We are going to avenge William. We are going to avenge the thousands that have been murdered. We are going to avenge the millions who had to be sacrificed. We are going to turn the tide of this War.
Or we are going to die trying.
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[ WP ] A future dystopian communist society where your career is assigned to you in a letter received on your 16th birthday
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As soon as I opened my eyes this morning I began to regret almost every decision I'd made in my short life.
I rose slowly, wiping sleep out of my eyes and wondering if all my goofing off freshman and sophomore year would bite me in the ass later. Last week, Missy Kirkland got placed as a Nail Technician even though her grades are in the top 2 percentile! It does n't matter how hard you try in school; the Child Placement Project does n't give two shits about what we've worked for, hoped for our whole lives. I've started to wonder why we even dream anymore, but I count myself fortunate that they have n't found a way to take them away from us yet.
After washing up and getting dressed, I made my way downstairs where I could hear my parents whispering somewhere to the front of the house. Great- it's here. The slip of paper that will determine whether or not my parents will be taken care of after they retire. My father used to tell me stories of how he wished he was chosen to be a pilot, and how he dreamed of flying over the ocean that brought his parents here, but as far as I know he's never even been to the coast. It's obvious that he resents being a stage hand, but he's good at what he does. I'm worried about when he gets older, loses his strength. He's far from a weak man, but I can see how emotionally damaged he is.
And mom... she's always thought I'd be picked to be a model. Most mothers do nowadays, it's one of the only jobs that require a passport. She's always wanted to go to France, spend a day strolling through a field of jasmine in Lyons, marvel at the art in the Lourve... you know, the normal France stuff. Librarians do n't get a chance to do too much traveling, but she's got a steadily growing collection of Eiffel Towers scattered all over the house. It's adorable sometimes. Other times I just get so upset for them.
My parents were both middling students, so I guess they both got middling jobs. I knew my grades were pretty good, but my attitude was less than charming. Why expend all that extra effort if I'm given no control? No, by today, my 16th birthday, I'd figured that the best thing to do was to accept that nothing would turn out the way I'd imagined as a child. I'd work somewhere relatively boring and meet a somewhat interesting man that would take me on multiple typical dates before we got married. That's just what happens in today's world. And as I'm definitely no supermodel, I guess I'm okay with it.
`` Good morning mother, father.'' I mumbled as I walked into the kitchen, stopping to kiss them both lightly on their cheeks. It was time to start the show, or at least time to start trying to lift their spirits a bit. `` Has the CPP delivered my sentence already?''
Obviously, humor was not their friend this morning. My dad did n't even meet my eyes as he slid the all too familiar gray envelope my way. All I can remember thinking was that the government could have at least sprung for a fancy font for this. Times New Roman? In 2119? Primitive ideals for primitive folk. I broke open the seal quickly, mostly because of the anxious looks on my parents faces. And just like that, I was nervous for the first time. After I pulled that slip of paper from that envelope, my life was over. I'd know exactly how I'd spend the rest of my life, when I'd retire, what benefits I'd received... and I felt empty and hollow and alone. I did n't want to end up like my parents, shells of the people they were meant to be. I fought an urge to start laughing, an urge to scream at the top of my lungs, the urge to toss this filthy, demeaning, egregious piece of paper into the flames on which my mothers tea kettle sat whistling. Fuck, this was scary.
I opened the letter and noticed my mother grab my fathers hand out of the corner of my eye. They were hoping it'd be something amazing. Something they could be proud of. And I knew I could only disappoint. With a sigh, I scanned the letter to find my fate. I was absolutely stunned by what I saw.
`` What is it?'' my mother choked out. `` Are you happy with it? Is it somewhere nice?''
`` Dad....they want me to fly.''
`` You mean...?''
`` Yes. Yes. We're going to make your dreams come true. I promise.''
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[ WP ] Wizards have always used massive spellbooks to cast their complex spells . You , a young wizard , have become famous for your skill at casting quickly . Your secret ? An iPad with a search function .
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“ Hurry up, we ’ re running out of time! ”
We were huddled behind a cluster of jagged rocks in the damp cave. A low growl came from the deep in the recesses of the darkness beyond.
“ It ’ s coming closer! Clemarim, make him do something! What ’ s he waiting for? ”
A withered old man clothed in an ancient maroon cloak prodded me with his bony finger. “ You are supposed to be some sort of prodigy, aren ’ t you? Well this cyclops isn ’ t going to fireball itself. ”
Flustered, I tapped on the screen. “ There ’ s no WiFi here! What do you want from me? ”
“ Why what? Look here boy, you need to cast something to stop that monster. That ’ s why we brought you along. You proved yourself to be the fastest spellcaster in the guild. Now is the time to put those skills to work. Yzax and I left our massive spellbooks and wands at the camp. We are counting on you. ”
I had shot up the ranks of the wizarding world, largely based off of my ability to find the correct spells so quickly. In practice duels, I made quick work of all of my classmates. When I received a letter requesting my services, I jumped at the chance. Especially once I found out who I was going to be working with. I held my iPad up towards the roof of the cave, hoping to catch a signal from somewhere.
“ Can you set up a hotspot or something? ”
The second wizard ducked down behind the rocks. The charred and torn emerald wraps he wore had long ceased to be classified a robe. Ages ago, Yzax was considered one of the top five combat wizards on the planet. He glanced at Clemarim. “ I believe that this cyclops is a relative of the beasty we took down in Wales. ”
Clemarim smiled fondly at the memory. “ Ah, yes. Now that was a proper battle. Lost a couple fingers during that one. ”
Yzax sat down next to me. “ This one has a much more pleasant disposition. ” A bone-rattling roar reverberated through the stone, loosening a stalactite and sending it spearing towards us. It impaled the ground right between me and Yzax. “ We wanted to start you out with something simple. Well… go on. Where is your spellbook? ”
I still couldn ’ t get a signal. I showed him the iPad. “ Normally, I just google the spells on my tablet instead. ”
“ Clemarim, my hearing ’ s not what it used to be. You catch any of that? ”
Clemarim shrugged. “ Yzax, I haven ’ t the faintest idea of what he ’ s going on about. ”
I pulled my wand out of my pack and desperately wracked my brain for a simple spell that could buy us some time, but I was so used to simply googling the answer that I hadn ’ t taken the time to memorize any of them. “ I swear; this has never happened to me before. ”
Yzax laughed and put his arm around my shoulder. “ That may work on the young ladies at the brothel, but not on us. ”
Clemarim was starting to become anxious. “ Yzax, I think the boy is telling the truth. We may want to consider plan B. ”
“ Plan B, eh? ” Yzax scratched his long unkempt beard. He peered over the rock.
One massive eye peered back. “ Ah, plan B. Yes. Let ’ s try that. ”
They both appeared to be gearing up for a fight. Clemarim was tightening his cloak and whispering some sort of incantation. Yzax had gathered up the rest of his supplies. I felt useless. “ What should I do? ” I asked.
Yzax gazed back at me absentmindedly. Then, a thin smile appeared on his face. “ Hand me your wand. And that paddy you keep waving about. Great. Clemarim, you ready? ” Clemarim nodded. Yzax pointed towards the general direction of the cyclops. “ All you have to do is run that way. We will take care of the rest. Ready? ”
I nodded. Yzax and Clemarim had gotten out of worse situations than this countless times. I couldn ’ t wait to see their brilliant plan in action.
“ Go! ” I sprinted off towards the right of the cyclops. He saw me and lumbered after. A heavy smell of rotting meat filled my nostrils as I pushed myself deeper into the cave. The cyclops was gaining on me, and I hoped whatever spell Yzax had in mind would be cast soon, before I vomited from the stench. I reached a dead end and risked a glance back. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Yzax and Clemarim sneaking out from behind the rocks. Yzax stood and looked at me. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it. He shrugged, and gallantly fled the cave with Clemarim.
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[ TT ] In the City of New New York a young athlete is caught with illegal body modifications and is kicked out of the league , they can no longer afford the maintenance on the mods and have to turn to crime to get the money
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Ripley's personal trainer once told him that there were seven vertebrae in the neck, and that it would take as little as 50 psi to break a bone if he was n't careful. League play was rough sometimes. Luckily for him, the nanites in his arm muscles were rated at 2000 psi.
The thug's neck snapped with a wet, sickening sound. Ripley let the lifeless body drop to the alley way pavement, wet and slick with oily rain. He reached down and picked up the drug dealer's bag. Slapping the sides, he opened it up and peered inside.
Money.
Ripley sighed and emptied the money into his own satchel. He counted out the packets - ten thousand yuan, twenty thousand. All money he needed. The mods in his legs were starting to ache, and he had n't had a Plospex-B shot in his knees in over a month. Without those chems, he'd be in serious pain. He counted one hundred thousand yuan in total - not bad, and a lot for a mid-level dealer to be carrying around. Ripley threw his backpack over his shoulder and searched the alley, drenched in sodium-yellow light, for the drug dealer's pistol. No sense in wasting his strength if he did n't have to.
EDIT: errant punctuation
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[ WP ] [ NSFW ] A tentacle monster has a nightmare .
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Jerry opened the door to his crappy apartment, tired after a day of making sweet love with horny virgins. Some of his tentacles were still wet, but he could n't be bothered to clean them. He could swear the horny virgins were running faster and faster with each passing year. Every time he brought that up to his best friend and boss, he'd always get a tentacle slap on the shoulder and a laugh `` Nah, you're just getting old.''. Easy to talk when you're sitting on your tentacles all day, pretending you're working hard by ordering actual hard working tentacle monsters around.
The same mess he left in the morning greeted him inside. His wife left him weeks before because he could n't perform for her after working all day. And he never seemed to find enough time to clean when on weekends he needed to catch up on sleep. 20 years until he could retire. He was counting the days.
Jerry crashed on his bed, sighing again. If the apocalypse came and the only victims were horny virgins, he'd be the happiest tentacle monster in the world, Jerry thought. Just thinking about them had became a torture. He thought about maybe changing jobs, but tentacle monsters could only do one thing. Jerry's cousin Cthulu, now that was a great job. He got lucky, just because he was bigger and had hands and feet. Truth be told, Jerry was very jealous on that, and Cthulhu liked to rub it in his face at every family gathering. But maybe soon, maybe he'll swallow his pride and give him a call, ask if he could hook him up with something else.
With that in mind, Jerry fell asleep. Soon, all his tentacles started twitching. A high pitched noise was followed by begging `` No, please leave me alone, please.''. He woke up crying, terrified. An entire flock of horny virgin schoolgirls was chasing him. He was too afraid to go back to sleep.
He stopped himself just before calling his cousin. He knew what his mom would say if she ever found out. `` Your father was a horny virgin sex maker, your grandfather was a horny virgin sex maker, his father, and his father before him were too. What, do you think you're better than them? Do you?''. He had tried once to bring it up jokingly, but she looked at him like he was talking human. No, his family would n't understand.
He sighed, and turned the TV on trying to be as late as possible for work. It was one of those soaps his wife used to love. A human horny virgin and a tentacle monster were madly in love while their families tried to bring them apart. Jerry sighed again.
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[ WP ] It has been proved that every living creature has an immortal soul , all of them ... except human beings .
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I took a sip from the glass. It was n't long before the thin fog began to cloud my mind and began to wash it all away. I relaxed a bit in the chair, and sighing, though of my father as I flipped open his journal to the last entry. I'd spent many nights since he passed reading through his diaries and research logs. But at last, I had reached the end.
`` It has been three years since my discovery. Two years since it became public knowledge and widespread fact. To this day, I am still shocked by it. Perhaps even more shocking is how well humanity handled it. Sure, there are many more atheists than there used to be. But for many people, it gave more meaning to their lives. Knowing you only had so many years to enjoy living. Still, there are those that hold to their religion, dismissing fact as propoganda or a test of faith.
However, the proof was conclusive, certainly by all modern standards. Humanity simply could not have an immortal soul. Other living creatures, sure, but that same complexity of the mind that makes us human prevents the possibility in us. We are simply complex, living machines. Nothing more, nothing less.
Or so I told the world. But now, as I near the end, I have decided to come clean.
Three years ago, as I worked, I stumbled across a bizarre mathematical contradiction. This, as many know, could only be resolved in a single way - humanity simply could not have a soul. Indeed, as far as the public are aware, this is where the story ends, discovery made. Case closed. The end. Except this tale had one more fateful twist.
See, that equation, that contradiction. It gave me an idea. While it eliminated the possibility of humanity having a soul, it did n't suggest what humanity DID have. For me, it was n't enough. Deeper down the rabbit hole I went.
And then, a couple of months later, I found it. The solution. And when I did, I struggled to breathe. My mind raced. I broke out into a sweat, which soon dropped me to an icy chill. I burned that paper that day, but still, still what I discovered haunts me. At night, I struggle to sleep, the same thoughts, the same theorem rolling over and over in my mind. I can only assume, if someone is reading this, that I am dead. It is more than likely that I took my own life. On the following, final page, you will find my theorem. My life's work. Read it if you must. But then destroy it. Before anyone else can see. This, is my final request.''
I went to turn the page, but the final page was torn from the book. I can only hope my father's last request was fulfilled.
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[ WP ] There are two life supporting planets in the same solar system . Each one has a sentient species who 've evolved roughly along the same rate technologically . Write a story using that .
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We always knew they were there. But we never reached out to them until now for some odd reason. They were over 14 million miles away from us so we sent out a radio signal at first. It took them a while to respond, roughly 2 weeks, but when they did we were all in shock.
*Hello E1! Good to hear from you, its been a long time! We are still surprised this worked! *
E1? Its been a long time? Why were they talking like they knew us? How do we speak the same language? Was this not the first time we sent out a signal? What worked? Everyone here at the International Space Agency, more commonly know as ISA, was confused.
We responded-
*Hello once again, it took a while to receive your reply but now we did. We are very confused by what you mean. This is our very first contact with you, we have never sent out another signal. Also why do you call us E1? Thank you for responding. *
This time it was quicker, they only took about 3 days. We were even more shocked and extremely confused about their answer.
*Oh has it really been that long? Our apologies Experiment 1, we are sending our vessels to you right now. Expect them in a couple of days. We are fully aware you have lots of questions wanting to be answered, but for now just know that we have been waiting for your expecting message. *
> This is my first prompt response so dont hate so much please! < 3
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[ WP ] Why was 6 afraid of 7 ?
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`` ANSWER ME!'' I screamed at 8, my knife pointing directly at his chest.
At first it was n't so obvious. She just did n't talk about him, but then every time he entered a room she left. And then she would completely avoid him. And that was way before 9 went missing.
I felt my body shake with fear as I felt a drop of sweat roll down my forhead.
`` Why do n't you put the knife down, and we talk about this like two civilized-''
`` No! Do n't bullshit me.'' I shooked the knife at him. `` I'm going to ask the questions and you are going to answer me, okay?''
`` 2-''
`` Okay?''
He nodded. I nodded at him too, trying not to break down.
`` Where did all this blood come from?'' I pointed at the floor and tried not to puke while at it.
He was breathing heavily, he did not want to answer. `` It's 9's''
I laughed darkly, trying not to cry. He looked at me like it was nothing.
`` 9 went missing so long ago.'' I looked at him, trying to find a twinkle of something that could tell me that he was kidding. His eyes were blank. I covered my mouth to prevent from sobbing, but failed.
`` I'm so sorry-''
`` DO N'T TOUCH ME!'' I pointed the knife at him, and he backed away. `` Do n't you dare touch me.''
He swallowed and looked down ashamed.
I tried to gain my composture. `` Where's 9?'' He looked up and hesitated. `` Answer me or I swear to God I'll slit your throat.''
`` He's dead.''
`` Bullshit.''
`` Do n't believe me? See it for yourself.'' He then step aside and pointed to the only door in the room besides the exit. I realized a trail of blood led to it.
I approached it slowly and looking at 8 with fear and resentment. He just looked at me with expectation.
When I reached the door I opened it without hesitation. I gasped and then puked.
I plummeted to the ground crying refusing to accept what my eyes were seeing. 8 was watching me carefully, from a safe distance.
`` You motherfucker.'' I spat out at him, once I felt strong enough to speak.
`` I'm not responsible for this. I was just a helper. Believe me, you will be at his side too now that you have seen what he does.''
`` You are insane''
`` No, 2. I just want to survive.'' He said, and then he started walking away.
`` Wait, 8!'' I screamed after him. He turned around a little bit confused. `` You never answered my initial question.''
He smiled darkly. `` 6 was always really smart, was n't she? If I were you I'll tell her to be careful.'' He was about to walk away but turned around one final time. `` And about your question, I think you already know the answer, do n't you, 2?''
I saw him as he walked away. I was left on the floor with back facing a closet with the remains of 9, hanged, like butchers meat.
I did n't realize there was someone else inside that room. And before I could react I heard a dark voice coming from behind me.
`` Because 7 ate 9''
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[ WP ] A major historical villain was n't evil , he was well meaning but supremely incompetent , and a comedy of errors and bungling led to the outcome of all his other crimes .
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`` Emperor, I...''
The short, fat neck wrinkled under the adviser's woeful stare. The look akin to a desperate urchin who had dreams and warm memories of bread but now suffered an agonizing lust for them.
``... They think I am excessive.''
Tigellinus cocked his head and sighed. `` My Augustus. They misunderstood your theater. To perform such acts in public is lewd for such a conservative republic...''
A mournful cry with a head buried between two knees, `` My art misunderstood! Woe is me! My art! My art to inspire, to lead, to progress, misunderstood...!''
Tigellinus did not truly have the heart to remind him that dancing naked while screaming gibberish was unbecoming of not only the Emperor but all of art and theater itself.
Of course, he did not want to face his own treason courts that Tigellinus had worked so hard to bring back. The adviser shivered. At best, he'd suffer being dipped in hot oil as ravenous beasts of dark words ravaged his body with monstrous proportions.
The worst would be having to withstand one of the emperor's `` human spirit monologues''.
`` Emperor Nero.'' Tigellinus shortly interrupted, `` Perhaps a less... showy act of human cons --''
`` My art is from the gods!'' Nero raged, almost in childlike behavior, `` My art! How dare you say my art is showy! My art is beautiful, like the Heavens bleed the sunrise!''
`` That does n't make sense, Emp --''
`` You are a politician! You would n't understand.'' Nero slouched back in his chair. Tigellinus added another tick to the column of stress relievers. Cassia. Camilla. Cecilia. Triplet sisters and...
`` What am I to do?'' Nero bemoaned his lot, `` I only wish to bring the people joy into their lives. To break free of the conformity, the monotony, the... cruel rat race which our society has subjected us to! To indulge in our hedonism, to question the power --''
`` You are the power, my Emperor, it would n't be wise to --''
`` Rigid conforms the rigidity!'' Nero shouted with a primal rage. Tigellinus sucked his in breath that forced his entire upper body to lurch forward. Did the sisters have a brother? How old was he?
He supposed, for the money he would offer, old enough...
`` My emperor. The people need homes. A work of structure that brings clean water into their homes. Buildings that can withstand a furious temper. Surely there is an art into practicality matters?'' Tigellinus tried to persuade, `` Life must have structure and meaning in order to create art.''
The fat emperor waddled out of his chair and Tigellinus was suspicious of his lack of crying.
Aggrippa. Even in her death, she still provided the big pain in the ass to the Roman Senate.
Only a woman could punish from beyond the River Styx. Men die in peace while women die in revenge.
`` We must build homes for them.'' Nero repeated, as if he had gone catatonic. Tigellinus lit up with brilliant surprise.
`` Yes! I shall bring the city's architect --''
`` No. I shall do it. With an artist's eye and perchance for fate.'' Nero mused, making the headache between Tigellinus's eyes grow larger, `` But first. I must consult my muses. My conversation piece, Tigellinus.''
Defeated, Tigellinus handed Nero the familiar fiddle that Nero grasped in his hands. Softly, deftly, he began to flick the strings with precision that was otherwise absent from him earlier.
The sounds of music did assure his concerns. Nero was devoid of talent in art and theater but his fiddle had always been so reassuring.
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[ WP ] You have one last chance to tell me the truth or the iguana gets it !
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`` Lebowski, tell me the truth!''
`` Man, I already told you. I do n't know anything about whatever it is your talking about man.''
`` Lebowski!''
`` Come on man there's no need to raise your voice...''
`` Lebowski, you have one last chance to tell me the truth or the iguana gets it!''
`` Man, that's not even my iguana.''
`` Well then who's iguana is it Lebowski?''
`` Man, I do n't know. Come on, I already told you what I know man. Leave the poor iguana out of this.''
`` You do n't know a lot do you Mr. Lebowski?''
`` Oh come one man, stop pissing on the iguana. What's your problem man?''
`` My problem, man, is you Mr. Lebowski! You have an attitude problem!''
`` Well, okay man, that may be so, but I'm not the one pissing on an iguana.''
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[ WP ] You are 18 . You are thrown into the back of a black van . Delta force operators brief you on the situation ; you are one of the apocalypse 's Four Horsemen . Which horseman are you ? What happens next ?
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I've always been relatively skinny, I do n't do much physical activity but I'd never seemed to think about food. I had a few health concerns, but for the most part they were unrelated. That's why it was such a shock that they considered me to be a figure in a religion I do n't even follow. I may be stick thin but I would n't consider myself to be starving to death.
When they threw me into the van I only had time to notice that it was black and had a vanity plate `` 1N3D14''. I was thrashing around but someone shouted at me while another held me down about me being the horseman.
After a couple minutes I had calmed down and they allowed me to sit back up. Since there were at least 2 of them, and one of them alone significantly outmatched my strength I just sat there quietly. Eventually i slid forward as the van stopped and they pulled me out, throwing me onto the soft ground.
We were in a large plain that stretched on for miles, and on all sides was surrounded by a tan crest. The plain was homogeneously made up of some form of grain the same color as the edge of the field, and my assailants were nowhere to be seen. When I looked back to where the van had been, all that there was in its place was a black box the size of a dresser. Wondering where they could have gotten to in the time it took to collect myself I walked towards it and around it, realizing that rather then a box, It was an oven.
It seemed similar to those I had seen in class when we learned about the settlers in America, except that it was engraved on every exposed side with a grain design. I moved to open it and felt a wave of recollection. I am famine, I am starvation. I am not the servant of death, but instead the chef of inedia.
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[ WP ] Mark Twain wakes up from a nap to discover his life is being narrated by Jane Austen and he 's the only person who can hear her .
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Chapter 7
When the hour struck 3, Mr. Twain rose from the sofa. Never one to mind propriety, he smoothed his linen suit and wished to speak to his neighbor of the morning's happenings.
`` As a penance for my sins,'' he stated plainly, after a moment,'' I believe I have become the subject of narration for a third rate American author.''
Mr. Twain, being a man of particular ponderous manners and poise, saw that he was in an empty parlor. He had no tendency toward consolation nor loneliness, yet in these circumstances he found himself as cold, alone, his mantle bare.
`` But, regrettably,'' he raised a finger, `` Not my bottom bookshelf.''
And, giving in to wanton vice, he stood unsurely on his feet, swayed, and walked to the cupboard. His bearing was one of defeat and decrepit of age, and Mr. Twain poured a potent liquid into a glass for his ills.
`` As it were, Janey,'' Mr. Twain coughed while raising the glass beneath his white mustache,'' I am not adverse to finding a character unattractive, but never a figure.''
Outside the parlour window, the dogs began to bark. Their barking blended unceremoniously with and indecipherably from Mr. Twain's most unwelcome solicitations. Mr. Twain idly thumbed open a copy of Pride and Prejudice,'' I'd reckon this author would be yet familiar with something overly long and thick.''
And yet for old men's lifetimes and egos, Mr. Twain, in want of company, looked up from the pages and about his empty halls, once tended by a lovely wife and daughter who were gifted finer residence as renumeration for their earthly sufferings.
`` If there were the bounty of heaven to renumerate mine,'' he said as he closed the book.
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[ WP ] Years after First contact with an alien species , the children from both worlds are being encouraged to write to their counterparts as pen-pals . Years after the initiative was struck , the only message received in our latest delivery begs for our help in defending our allies against a third race
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It had been sixty years since humanity realized we were not alone in the universe. We were awed. Overjoyed. Terrified. We would find out later that all these emotions had been shared by the Silathans: a mutual first contact. Two species had reached out into the stellar darkness and, for the first time, found another reaching back.
Physically, we were different: the Silathans were short and squat, hexapodal, insectoid, adapted for life on a planet whose gravity was three times that of our own. But cognitively, emotionally, spiritually, we were mirrors. We shared our passions, our emotions, our aggression and altruism. The drive to conquer our evolutionary demons and make something better of ourselves. There was conflict, there were…disagreements…but we spurred each other to be better. We were, and always will be, galactic brothers. We realized this early on and made a compact: to make pen pals of our children and their children. To raise them in a shared cultural household, so to speak. One letter, every standard Earth week.
These letters were how I met Xik ’ qan fifty-eight years ago. Though our planets were forty-six lightyears apart we were closer to each other than any member of our own species. We were the sole constant in the other ’ s life as we grew, as family and friends drifted away, as school became military and lessons became drills. We lived for the days that the letters would arrive, and we endured the jeers of our colleagues: betrayer. Freak. Bug-lover.
Maybe it was because of the similar trajectories of our lives, maybe it was a self-imposed isolation brought on by the rigors of military life, but we were all the other wanted. I had just been named Captain, was still intoxicated from the party that followed, when her letter arrived. In an alcoholic haze I heard her whisper, “ Chk ’ tallah, ” as I read her letter. A Silathan phrase, no direct human translation. It means lover, partner, friend. It conveys gratitude for being all three and more. I did not wait another week but sent her a letter that night, scrawled in a drunken hand and addressed to Chk ’ tallah.
That was her last letter. I thought she may be embarrassed, then I worried that it may be official disciplinary action. The old tribal instinct kicking in, one of their own commanders compromised by her attachment to another race. The truth was worse: the letters had stopped. All of them. For one month there was silence, and our species was reminded how it felt to be alone in the cosmic dark. Then a single letter arrived, from High Commander Kat ’ chin to all humanity.
“ Help us. They are coming. We can not stand. ”
We heeded their call. We sent all the strength we had. And we may be too late.
I may be too late.
I am standing on the bridge of the USS Brotherhood, and I am staring down at what is left of the Silathan homeworld. The reports are staggering: eighty percent casualties. Total occupation. Continental realignment from the force of the aggressor ’ s weapons. Utter panic, disbelief, fear. But I have no time to feel: there is a click in my ear, followed by the voice of Admiral Lorentz.
“ Captain. Give the order. ”
I remember the tools at my disposal and a hot, red curtain falls over my mind.. My hand shakes, steadies, as I reach out for the comms button.
“ Fleet. This is Captain Westdale. An unknown force has fired upon and occupied the Silathan homeworld. ”
*They have taken your home, Chk'tallah. *
“ They have killed our friends. They have murdered our family. ”
*I am coming for you. *
“ Slaughter them. ”
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[ WP ] You sit on your throne surrounded by your royal guard . A group of rebels burst into the room and after their leader 's monologue , you realize you are the bad guy in a hero 's story .
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Stumbled, I was. Realisation hit me, and the guilt dripped from my body. I twitched, cleared my throat and told him. When the words came out, they vanished. My throat was constricting. I knew I was not evil, but this man's speech was proof that I was a tyrant. I did the only thing I knew how, and dropped my crown and walked away. The rebels looked absolutely confused, the voices of the room yelled in a loud mixture, `` My lord, where are you going''. Before I opened the door, without looking I tried to stuttur but my voice was once again tightened by invisible piano wires. I ran now, and without a second thought, drowning in my own guilt and realisation of what I truly was, I smashed the window and jumped to my death. The last sounds were the gasps of both my friends and enemies.
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[ WP ] Someone catches a glimpse of their soul mate
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She was the one and he knew it. `` Just fucking talk to her!'' He mumbled to himself. He had never been to this bar and likely never would be again. This would be his only chance, it was time to sack up. Now or never. He closed his eyes- `` Just act confident and say the first thing that comes to your mind'', he thought to himself.
`` Whatever you do, do not fall in love with me.''
`` What?'' She asked.
`` I'm letting you know up front that you are not allowed to fall in love. I'm emotionally unavailable and the last thing I want is any sort of misunderstanding that leads to someone getting hurt.''
`` Seriously?'' She asked while laughing. `` As in you're being serious right now?''
`` Oh, Absolutely'', he said, returning her smile.
`` What makes you think you even register on my radar, especially like that?''
`` Well, let's be honest with each other- for one thing, you've been looking at me like I was a piece of meat for most of the night'', he said as his smile got even larger. `` So before you go and fall in love, I wanted to be up front in letting you know that I am damaged goods.''
`` You're ridiculous is what you are'', She said.
`` If by'ridiculous' you actually mean'devastatingly handsome', then yea, I would have to agree with you,'' he said, locking eyes with her.
`` Hmm, not so much'devastatingly handsome' -- maybe a little bit'special needs cute','' she said mockingly while maintaining the eye contact.
`` Good enough for me, I'll take it!'' He laughed, `` But, I want to be absolutely clear. If I am indeed'special needs', as you suggest, then at the very least I am highly functioning.''
She licked her lips and let her eyes wonder down to his crotch- `` I hope you are'', she said, surprising him with her boldness.
Her forwardness filled him with confidence. He began to take in all of her with his eyes as well, starting with her legs and slowly moving upwards. He began to feel himself growing with arousal as he continued his visual journey until they once again locked eyes.
He moved in closer, `` I think I'm going to show you first hand exactly how highly functioning I am.''
`` Oh yea? And what makes you think that is going to happen?''
`` Because you want it too'', he said, then he moved his eyes away from hers and focused them on her mouth. He began to bite his lip and said- `` I've already got you figured out.''
`` What exactly do you think you have figured out?'' she asked.
He moved in even closer, their faces only inches apart as he held eye contact and softly said - `` I've figured out that you want, no... you need fucked tonight.'' She closed her eyes as he said the words.
He moved his face around to the side of hers, and then to her ear, allowing his nose and mouth to barely brush her check along the way. Then, so softly that even she barely heard it, he said - `` I'm going to fuck the shit out of you tonight.''
Her knees just about gave out from under her. No man had ever talked to her like this before. Not in the bedroom, and especially not in the middle of a bar. Yet he seemed to push all the right buttons with her, triggering something buried deep inside, forcing it to come to the surface. A part of her she always knew existed, but one she had never met before.
`` Oh yea?'' She whispered heavy in breath. More permission than a question. `` You're confident, I'll give you that.''
`` Yea'', he whispered, continuing to allow his nose to brush against her ear lobe and neck as he spoke. He watched her close her eyes as her lips quivered ever so slightly. They practically begged to taste his mouth for the first time.
He began to slowly move his mouth towards hers, enjoying the intoxication the journey gave him. Her eyes stayed closed as she involuntarily began to inch her mouth towards his. He brushed his lips against hers, letting them linger there. He could feel her longing as her mouth hungrily kept trying to draw his in. Finally he could n't take it any longer and he kissed her deeply. Her mouth was open and eager, and their tongues began to explore each other. He pushed himself up against her as he wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her tight. She could feel his growing excitement as he slid one hand down to the small of her back, while at the same time sliding the other up. He let her hair run through his fingers before he palmed the back of her head, guiding her to kiss him even deeper.
Suddenly he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled. Not hard enough to hurt, but with enough force to get her attention and to pull her head far enough back that it ended their kiss. It took her breath away. She opened her eyes as he moved around and once again whispered in her her- `` I'm going to fuck you like you've always wanted to be fucked.''
Suddenly he said- `` That's all you get... for now anyway'', and he pushed himself away from her, creating a foot of distance between them.
She was so aroused from their kiss that she was afraid it would show through her shorts. She opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her with a content little smirk on his face as he slowly licked what was left of her off his lips.
He was staring at her with pure lust, like a hungry lion who has it's prey in it's sights. Her eyes moved from his, curious about the warmth she had felt against her belly as they had kissed. She paused her gaze wantingly at the large erection that was straining the denim of his jeans as it tried to free itself from the spot down his right leg. The spot that no longer provided the adequate room required to house it.
Her eyes then moved around the bar, once again she became aware of where she was. Most people seemed oblivious and unconcerned with the hot couple making out in the corner, but she locked eyes with a few women who watched them in silence, their arousal written all over their faces. Each looked as if they would pay good money to switch places with her.
*'' If he can affect me like this with our clothes on, what in the hell can he do to me when we are naked? `` * She thought to herself.
Right on cue he extended his hand and said- `` Come with me''.
`` Where are we going?'' She asked as she took his hand.
`` We need to find your friend and tell her we are leaving'', he said matter-of-factly. `` Then we are going to get into a cab and go to my place.''
`` What about my car? How will I get back to where...''
`` We will worry about that in the morning, but right now the correct answer is'yes sir'.''
`` Ok, but I..''
He suddenly stopped walking and looked at her, silently scolding her.
She once again locked eyes with him. They shared an intense second of eye contact before she could get out the words - `` Yes sir.''
`` Good girl'', he said, then turned and they began walking again.
She was caught off guard by two things: How her heart had skipped a beat when he had said'good girl'; and at how he had seemed to sense her reaction to the words.
She felt a smile take over her face as she held his hand through the bar. There was an energy about her that she did n't even know she possessed, and she could n't help but look at this man in a certain wonderment as he had seemingly been able to coax it out of her.
Then, once again, as if he was somehow reading her mind, he turned to her and said -'' I told you. I understand would you like some cologne or a breath mint?''
`` Excuse me?'' He said, briefly confused as he looked at his reflection in the mirror.
`` I asked you if you would like a breath mint or some smell good sauce'', the bathroom attendant said, then add- `` I could n't help but overhear you talking to yourself in the mirror. Said yous had your sights on a pretty little girl or som'tin. I figured yous might wants ya a breath mint or some spray. Anything to helps ya out.''
`` Thanks but no thanks'', he said as he removed a dollar bill from his pocket. `` Here's for having to listen to me as I spaced out there.'' He handed the bill to the attendant.
`` Oh's thank ya sir! Good luck'', said the attendant, as the man nodded and left the restroom. Then added after the door had shut- `` And boy is you's gon na need it too, b'cuz you be fucking crazy!''
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[ WP ] You sold your soul to the Devil some years ago . Today he gives it back and says , `` I need a favor . ''
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It was a calm Tuesday morning in the sleepy little town. The old folks were at the town restaurant, sipping coffee and chatting about the goings on. The children were drudging through the last few days of school before summer vacation. The birds were singing, the squirrels were barking, and the bees were buzzing.
All seemed well and whole, except for the little tan house on the corner. The Man who lived there was indeed having a fine morning thus far. He was reclined on his sofa with a glass of golden liquid in one hand, his other hand on his TV remote mindlessly surfing the channels. He did n't know he was in for a real treat.
Suddenly, out of nowhere it seemed, a puff of smoked filled up the mans living room, and an acrid scent permeated the air. From the blowing smoke stepped a man, who swayed a wee bit as he came to a stop. He was dressed in a fine black robe, trimmed with red and gold thread, his jet black hair was cut short. Blood red eyes shone dully in the morning light.
The Man on the couch coughed and gagged for a bit before managing to choke out, `` Lucifer!''
`` Hey... Hey dude,'' the Devil slurred out. `` H-how's it going?''
`` Old friend, how much have you been drinking this morning?'' the Man on the couch asked the Devil, as a wife might ask her husband as he returned from the bar.
`` Not, not much man,'' Lucifer responded defensively. He made his way over to the couch and slumped down next to the Man, who sighed.
The Man and the Devil went back, to the early 1800's. The Man had eagerly given his soul to the Devil in exchange for infinite youth, but on one very strict condition. The man was to eternally be Lucifer's best friend. It was hard for an immortal to find friends, after all. The Devil and the only other immortal being did n't get along very well, unsurprisingly.
`` My friend, I need a favour,'' the Devil managed to work out. He seemed on the edge of passing out. `` And in return for this favour, I will grant you the one thing you've desired for some time now. I will return your soul.'' His speech came out slurred and bleary.
The Man licked his lips. He had lived for almost two centuries, had seen the death and birth of new countries and powers. And for all of it, the Devil had been hovering over his shoulder. He was ready for it to be over, he decided.
`` Anything for you, my oldest friend,'' the Man said somberly.
The Devil snorted and reached deep into robes, pulling forth a large book and slamming it onto the Man's coffee table. `` I need help finding Waldo!'' The Man sighed.
It was indeed his time to go.
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[ WP ] Write a few paragraphs about the renaissance period as if you are a complete idiot and have no idea what you are talking about .
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What I Learned About the Renaissance
In your class, I learned a lot about the Renaissance. Remember that movie we watched? The one with the sexy, sexy ladies with their bosoms all up in your face? Oh, *man*. But I digress.
I suppose what you really want to know is what I learned, all the boring, detailed stuff. So you do n't want to know how I learned how all the sexiest chicks were from the past. Fair enough. You felt that your education was boring and so you had to inflict your exhaustion on me. Quid quo pro. Tit for that. I can deal with that.
Okay, so, what I learned is that they wear these really revealing dresses. Am I right? Yeah, man. But none of that conical hat shit, with the tassels. That's the Middle Ages. The King Henry VIII had 8 wives? Am I right? Maybe not, I'm a little fuzzy on the numbers. But he had a hella lot of wives. And he killed every single one of them. Well, no, he divorced a few and he made the Catholic Church -- no, he made a Church so that he could divorced. Ha! Take that, Church.
Always hated Sunday School.
You might be glad to know that I watched -- oh, they all had surprisingly good teeth during the Renaissance! But yeah, so I watched The Other Boleyn Girl in my spare time. Do you see how you've been so inspirational to me? Be proud. So there was Mary and Anne. Mary was n't hot enough, so King Henry VIII did n't want her. He wanted Anne. Or was it Ann? Oh well. You ca n't blame me for this one. They sound exactly the same. Anyhow, Anne has sex with her brother and produces an ugly deformed child. And King Henry VIII has her beheaded. The end.
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[ Modpost ] Weekly 2014 Challenge Thread
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To be honest, I'm not sure where I am. Maybe I've learned to adapt to different scenarios more often than not, or become more aware of how I just let whatever comes to mind and write with the stream of consciousness. I'm not worried about actually posting every day due to work, but I do fear that I may fall behind, which I know I wo n't, but that's just how I am.
The best so far that I could give is just keep going. Even if you fall behind, it's okay. Find a few prompts that you like and mull over them, leave them open in another tab. You'll be drawn back to write it. Even my writer's block has given way after a day or so of contemplation.
Picking one of my posts is hard. I have three that I'm proud of so far, though I feel like two of them are some of the best I've written. Oddly enough, one is [ my first post ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1u6fxm/wp_your_drunk_and_sober_personalities_have_a/cef21ot? context=3 ), the other is [ a short MP ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1w27n7/mp_you_are_sitting_back_against_the_bar_of_a/ceyljzk? context=3 ). The first felt like a bit of a personal insight to my through process, the second was another personal insight on something that happened to me, just in a different scenario. Both have allowed me to take a bit of me, maybe a bit more, and put into writing, with no discrimination against length. Both of them hold weight to them, the first due to its length, the second when paired to the music that was given ( which just make the scene, I want to sketch out a storyboard for it, that's how much I love it, or maybe just do a voiceover ).
... I think I'm done rambling.
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[ IP ] Friends
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It is not without a sense of jealousy I see them sharing a moment like that. To them, it must not mean much, to be together on a sunny day in a park. Maybe, they're taking a moment to sit on a walk in the park. Maybe, one is talking to another about a neighbor of mine. Maybe, they're just chatting, passing the time before class. But oh, I would have given so much to share a moment like that with someone close to me! To have someone to confide in and to be trusted enough to be confided in. I want to ask them what experiences they've shared, or what brings them so close. I want to ask them what strength their friendship gives them, or if they've shared any secrets. Certainly, people tell me secrets now, but that just *means* so much less. When I was their age, no one earnestly sought my friendship. Sure, some people wanted to be friends with the son of a millionaire, but no one could see past my wealth. Time and time again, I was told `` money ca n't buy happiness, or `` friendship is the greatest wealth of all.'' None of the people who told me that had the compassion to go to the park with me and share a moment like these kids are now.
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[ WP ] On your deathbed , a man appears at your side and gives you a card , but before you can read it , you die . When you awaken from death , you lie in front of a large castle with shimmering lights - you 've been invited to Death 's ball .
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When the dull hospital lights faded into blackness, the darkness shimmered until I found myself in a tuxedo standing outside of a grand castle. Built from gray stone, its towers reached into the night sky while all the innumerable windows radiated a beautiful cascade of colors. Finally finding a moment to look at the card the mysterious man had given in me, in a large black, but elegant typeface, it read, *Death ’ s Ball. *
Around me I caught sight of dozens or so other men and women, dressed in all matters of tuxedos and cocktail dresses with confused expressions painted on their face. When one brave soul decided to walk towards the castle, the rest followed without question. I immediately fell into line, overhearing the conversations between the others.
I gathered that the other guests were on their final moments of life before they came here. The gentleman behind with rather square head claimed to be in the middle of an engagement with members of some terrorist organization or another before his camo disappeared and his monkey suit appeared. The women with whom he was speaking told him she went under for a routine surgery, only to awake at the castle. She wasn ’ t unconvinced this was simply a dream.
When we reached door, they swung open to reveal endless chandeliers and multicolored lights. Before we could enter, however, strange beasts in suits collected our cards before admitting us. When their claws reached in my direction, I feebly handed over my card. The beast gave a reassuring nod with his snout, and I found myself in the middle of the largest, most ornate castle I had ever seen.
An intricate tile pattern laminated the floor, shining with numerous bright and vivid colors. Before the mass of the guests arrived, I could vaguely decipher the tiles as depicting a man with an hour glass in one hand and a scythe in the other. Huge pillars of marble pierced the floor, supporting the massive ceiling which was painted with a moving fresco of the stars and planets moving in their heavenly spheres, producing a stream of elegant melodies which filled the ballroom. To the side, numerous tables lined the walls with every delicacy imaginable. The golden flakes of freshly baked pastries and the fresh aroma of baked blueberries, cherries, and cinnamon apples filled the room. In the center of it the entire party, a grand staircase ascended, though nobody dared to approached its steps.
Idle chatter filled the room as the deceased helped themselves to the pleasantries of death until a loud set of footsteps silenced the entire room. With every eye cast towards the staircase, a man that we had all seen descended its steps. With snow white skin stretched thinly across his skull and silver white, but thinning hair slicked behind his brow, a man in a suit made of the blackest material we had ever seen captured our attention. He paused near the half way point of the stairs.
“ Welcome, ” he greeted. “ I want to extend my warmest appreciation and hospitality to all who ’ s attended, especially for those who had a particularly difficult journey here. ”
He paused for a moment. Only the sounds of the planets made a sound.
“ If you haven ’ t figured it out, yet, ” he began. “ You ’ re dead. You see, I host this ball every moment in human history for those who die at the exact same time. Early in my career, I was lucky to have more than a few participants to every party, but as humanity has grown and advanced, I have the distinct pleasure of hosting larger and more brilliant parties.
“ In your left pocket, you will have a card with a number on it. This number represents your karma, in a numerical form. In a few moments, after you ’ ve had plenty of chance to socialize and enjoy the food and drink, representatives of different afterlives will come to the ball. Each afterlife has a unique cost in terms of karma. Based on your preferences and your budget, you select any afterlife you deem fit. Now, please, enjoy yourselves. I ’ ll be circulating around the floor if you have any questions. ”
As a huge murmur burst among the guests, I reached into my pocket. I had 3,125 karma points to decide how I would spend eternity.
*****
More stories at r/Andrew__Wells
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[ WP ] `` How could you not realize you were dating twins ? ''
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What first drew me to Jordan was his quiet confidence. His features were on the effiminate side of things, only slightly more masculine than exact neutral. Most guys would be self conscious about such things, but not Jordan. He embraced the ambiguity and dressed the part, making us guess at what was really going on. The only thing that really convince me of his gender before talking to him was his 5 o'clock shadow. Turned out that he was funny and charming as well, so I agreed to meet him later for a date.
On our first date, he was completely clean shaven and had I not met him before, I would have been inclined to believe that he was a woman. But he could n't be. I had seen his whiskers before. It had to be the shave. Yes, that is what it was. The clean shave softened his features enough to make the uninformed think he might be a woman. That being said, we had a nice dinner and then he took me home after and we arranged for another date.
On our second date, we decided to see a movie. His whiskers were back and I was glad. This time people would not be mistaken as to who he was. We went to the new Star Wars movie, but did n't see much of it because we were too busy kissing in the back. His kisses were definitely man kisses and not woman kisses. At least that bit was n't confusing.
On our third date, we went hiking in the mountains. He was back to clean shaven with the softer features, but I did n't mind because we did n't really meet anyone else on the trail. It was just the two of us until we came back for dinner. As it was the third date, we both had expectations as to what would happen at the end, so I was excited when he invited me to his place after dinner.
When we got home, he sent me to take a shower first and then told me to get ready on his bed while he took his shower. I was lying on the bed fantasizing about what was going to come next when the door opened and Jordan came through dressed in a bath robe. As he approached me, he took off the robe and revealed... breasts and a vagina! He was a woman! My suspicions at the restaurant on the hike had been correct! But how had he had that 5 o'clock shadow from when I met and at the movie? But wait, there came another Jordan. The first one I had met with the whiskers and everything. He took off his robe to reveal that he was very much a man. He looked so much like his sister, it was only my subconcious that had picked up on it when they had switched. I could n't believe it!
My shock must have shown on my face because they both looked at me with consternation.
`` You did n't realize that you were dating twins?''
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[ EU ] Welcome to Walt Disney 's Hunger Games , pitting all your favorite Disney characters under 18 years old against one another in a fight to the death . And may the odds be ever in your favor .
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They forgot, you see. It was easy to forget. Easy to look into those button eyes and listen to the high pitched voice.
He let them forget.
One by one they fell. Belle first. Useless. Jasmine shoved a lamp into her eye.
Cinderella lasted longer than most. She sharpened those glass slippers into two knives. By the end she was known as the Princess Dressed in Red.
He was quiet. Polite. Willing to help. Giggled when appropriate.
They all forget he was a bear. Until he killed them.
Honey rained down from the sky bringing the sweet taste of victory only tempered a small bit by the taste of blood.
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[ WP ] Everyone on Earth is blind , and you are the only person born with sight in hundreds of years . You tell the world what you see , and the consequences are huge .
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It was the year 2220 when the virus hit. At first, only a handful of people were effected, waking up completely blind. No one seemed to notice a few people losing their sight, why would they? `` These things happen.'' said the diagnosing doctor of those Baltimore patients.
The week of Monday, June 27th, 2220; hundreds of thousands of people wake up, blanketed in a white veil of nothingness. Panic ensued, as people who had taken the majesty of sight for granted their entire lives became lost, and afraid. Tuesday came around, and after hours upon hours of frantically trying to develope a cure, many of the researching scientists lost their sight. No one realized that the virus had already infected every human on earth, weeks before it reered its head.
By Monday of the following week, the human population had been reduced to a sightless species. Many people commited suicide, and even more died due to not being aware of their surroundings.
After 12 generations, we had evolved into a species that did not require the use of our eyes to thrive, each sense increased by 1000 %. We survived, we prevailed, and we rebuilt our once fallen society. The tale of the virus became a legend, told to children, who listened in awe as they tried to imagine a 5th sense...
I grew up with these stories, thinking -- no, knowing -- that they were myths.
The worst and best day of my life; I awoke with my sight. The first human in 12 generations with a fifth sense. The most extrodinary sense. I had the advantage, I had something that no one else had. And I was terrified. I could tell no one what happened to me, for fear of what I might be subjected to.
I could see.
And I ran.
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[ WP ] You are part of a powerful order of mages . Some control fire , others , water . You however ... Have the power of bread . That 's right , you 're a bread mage . Tell me about your day .
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I'm glad to be a bread mage. My skills include sifting flour with a wave of my hand, baking a perfect French baguette with little more than a few strands of wheat and a little water, or, in my more advanced spells, I can summon fresh bread in a pinch.
I have a few students, others born with my powers. My youngest, Fikra, is about six. Her mother saw she was a mage, and delivered her to our order, so she would n't be found. Fikra is still learning her basic white breads, how to keep it from overcooking...
Julius is my sullen middle child. He is frustrated by the wars the King has, and it shows. Sometimes I find rye inside his baguettes, it shows he's not fully focused casting the spells. But he shows a lot of talent, and I know he will make a good instructor one day.
My eldest is Edith. Edith actually is n't actually a bread mage, but she studies our order. She will be the historian of The Circle, as is the tradition that one unaltered by magic should write our accounts. She's very responsible, and her ordinary scent keeps us safe here.
Oh, did I mention the King is massacring all mages? He's already killed the Wind Master and her five students, they were the first to go. I have n't heard from the Earth guardians in a long time, I think they're gone too. Rumors that come in to our little bakery all say the Fire mages have scorched half the land, and are barely able to defend themselves anymore. The only mages I do speak to anymore are the Sun Mages. The King keeps them on lock down ( he wo n't kill them, they control the sun ). The more obscure masters seemed to have wisely disappeared, just like i have.
I'm glad to be the Bread Master. We are very safe here in our little bakery. We wo n't be tortured like the others. Maybe it's best to just forget we even are special at all....
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[ WP ] You obtain a device that tells you exactly what choices to make in order to lead the `` happiest '' life possible . Some of these choices get hard to make .
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`` Sign it'' The device on his wrist read.
The man sighed and took a deep breath.
The pen he was barely holding shook harder in his hand.
'CESSATION OF TREATMENT CONSENT FORM' was printed along the top of the sheet of paper under the pen. A jumble of legalese punctuated by a long blank line.
The hand stopped shaking as it clenched the pen.
It was wrong, it was all wrong. The device was supposed to bring him happiness, it led him to becoming the valedictorian at his university, landed him his dream job.
But this... this... how was he supposed to kill his own son?
-- -
Technically the boy was n't his biological son. He was his nephew, the man had raised the boy though, ever since his sister and her husband had died shortly after his birth, car accident.
The boy nearly did n't survive it but he did,'A miracle' some said.
He had n't intended on raising the boy. He was just out of school, buried in the rat race of his first job when he received the news. He remembered sitting in the room with his parents and his sister's in-laws debating the fate of the boy.
They were at an impasse, his parents were too old and infirm to care for him, the in-laws were pushing to put him up for adoption. But he was his nephew, the boy was family.
Then the device on his wrist vibrated.
`` Take the boy.'' it read, then `` Raise him.''
And then it was he and the boy in his cramped studio apartment. The boy went to daycare by day, but drool and diapers were the man's responsibility at night.
-- -
Years passed.
The infant became toddler, the toddler became a boy, the boy started school.
And as the years went by the man realized the device was right. He was happy, perhaps the happiest he had ever been in his life.
That all changed one night.
-- -
`` Pa, my head hurts. My left eye is blurry.''
The boy was seven. He came up to the man, face scrunched up in pain, his small hand clutching at his left temple.
The man felt sick to his stomach.
`` Well, let's go ask the doctor, he'll make you feel better.'' The man answered calmly, inversely proportionate to the panic stealing over him.
They went directly to the hospital.
The man felt like he was floating outside his own body when the doctor pulled him aside and said,
`` He has a brain tumor.''
-- -
The next few months were the hardest in his life.
He watched his son fight and fight and fight. And he watched his son waste away.
Night after night he spent sleepless, sitting up in his bed staring at the device, clutching it with vain, desperate hope.
`` Tell me what to do. Please... just tell me what to do.'' He whispered to it over and over, but it remained dormant.
`` Sir, at this point I'm afraid we've reached a crossroads. The treatment is n't effective enough, we could increase the dosage, but also increase his pain and there is only a slim chance it will succeed. The treatment itself may prove too much for him as well, as weak as he is.''
The doctor handed him a piece of paper.
`` This is your decision, but I encourage you to talk it over with your son.''
They talked, they cried, they held each other.
`` It's ok Pa, I do n't want be in pain anymore. I'll get to meet mother and father finally too.'' He was so brave when he said it. At the very least, the man would remember his son's bravery until the bitter end.
-- -
He stared at the drying ink for a while as the tears ran down his cheeks. He had tossed the pen away like it was a live viper as soon as he lifted it from the page.
He handed the form to the doctor.
He sat and held his son's hand until a solid monotone beep was the only sound he heard.
-- -
The man sat outside on a curb, letting his tears flow free and not caring who saw.
After what could have been hours he felt someone sit down next to him and he looked up.
She was beautiful.
`` Are you ok?'' She asked `` You've been out here alone for the past hour. Do you want someone to talk to?''
The device on his wrist vibrated.
`` Say yes.'' it read, then `` She's the one.''
`` Well I can honestly tell you that this has been the worst day of my life.'' The man told her. `` But I think it just may have gotten a little better.''
-- -
AN: Former lurker, Decided to make an account because I was really inspired by the prompt. Hope you enjoy.
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[ WP ] A little girl is terrified of the monster under her bed , but what she does n't know is that the monster under her bed protects her from the true monsters - her parents . You are that monster .
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It was my first time; I had never done anything like it before. I hid, cramped and uncomfortable underneath her bed, amongst the dust bunnies and discarded toys, waiting for the lights to turn off, before making my rounds. I ’ ve seen grown men give out a shriek whenever they happen upon me and now it was time for something new, something unique.
But when lights go off, I hear the screams and let out a groan, for this should be my home, then I hear the pitter patter of little feat, racing down the down, all tears and missing teeth, she swings, open the door, slamming it shut, locking it behind her. She turns, almost seeing me and I freeze as she runs towards me and leaps into her bed. I hear her pulling the blankets and comforters up over her head, believing they would protect her. But the room is dark, without so much of a nightlight and I begin to creep out from underneath her bed, slithering like a snake across the floorboards when I hear it, her father ’ s booming voice beyond the door, shouting for her to open it and take her medicine. I hear her mother too, she ’ s screaming like a maniac, banging on the door, trying the knob, calling her things that not even I would say.
Yet still I stand a shapeless form amidst the blackness of the room, the girl ’ s whimpers and cries flooding my ears and I look to see pitiful mass with blankets over her heads, pleading for them to just go away, to leave her alone.
I feel an unfamiliar stirring and I look to the door, it ’ s shaking and vibrating as her father ’ s shouts, slamming himself repeatedly against the door, I see buckling. I recall the countless times when it had been me on the other side, clawing and screeching, breathing in their fear before I do the taking. But all I do is stand, looking to the door, seeing the light shining beneath the door revealing the room to be almost barren. The girl ’ s screams and please grow louder and I finally make my decision and move towards the bed and turn towards the door as it splinters outwards, swinging open and broken hinges, the girl screams as light floods her room, I sense her shudder, but light was never my weakness and doesn ’ t blind, so I watch as her father reaches me first. He turns three shades white when he finally sees me, so I smile monster to monster, and he backs away, his scream yet finding its way to his lips, but I silence it and him before it ever does. The mother is gone by the time roll my eyes towards her.
That ’ s when it happened, the barest caress, the gentlest caress of a hand finding mine, before gently wrapping the tiny digits of her hand around one of my fingers. I turn then and lead her into the closet, and then we ’ re outside and she whispers,
“ Thank you, ” And “ Will you keep me safe? ” She asks, with barest hint of fear creeping back into her voice.
“ Always…. ” I whisper, my voice sounding harsh, it ’ s been so long since I ’ ve spoken, longer still that I ’ ve kept my promise.
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[ WP ] While being home one evening , you hear a noise in the other room ...
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I had been unemployed for the better part of a month and had tied one on earlier in the day and was napping. I woke up at about 6 in the evening with that familiar pressure in my bladder and blearily stumbled to the bathroom and drained the snake. Sometimes when you really have to go, its better than sex, and this time was one of those times.
After a solid minute, of a single strong stream with no stutters it dropped off, right as I suddenly heard the unmistakeable sound of a one of a kind peloponnesian urn rocking slightly on a marble pedestal. I shoved my now deflated member into my tighty whities and like always the last few drops stained the front of my underwear, I cursed silently and grabbed a copy of game informer that I keep on the floor near the shitter, for reading and when I am out, spare toilet paper and rolled it up into a tube shape, all the better to pummel someone with.
I walked quickly to the foyer and saw a figure in what I can only describe as a halloween costume of what a cat burglar would like like, rummaging through my valuables, I stopped looked around and pushed the urn off the pedestal, when it shattered the burglar spun around, I waved and he bolted.
Some hours later after the police had come and taken my statement and swept the house for prints, I put in a call to my insurance company, the vase was insured for several million, and they cut a check within a week.
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[ WS ] You 've just signed onto a freelance mercenary crew , describe meeting your SL ( Squad Leader ) .
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( Brock is the new recruit, Weasel is the NCO looking after a crewmen nicknamed Scout who got beat in a sparring match. )
The man had pale grey hair and sun-crusted skin. He wore Disukan scatter-gravel combat fatigues and spoke Kartoa with an easy, fringer Tautoan accent through a chaw of dip. Overall the look of a man in his late sixties, yet still wiry and tough enough to be deadly. He exuded the attitude and presence of a senior NCO, a man who demanded everything from his men and gave them nothing less.
...
Brock slowly approached and tried to think of something to say, but the way Weasel looked up and the calculating glare he gave tied Brock ’ s tongue into knots. Brock *hated* when NCO ’ s from any army did that.
Weasel finally spoke up,
“ The f*** you looking at boy? ”
“ I ’ m… I ’ m a new crewman Stárshiy. ” He wasn ’ t sure if that was his real title or not, but since the other crewmen called ‘ Weasel ’ that, Brock guessed he should too.
“ I can see that; you don ’ t answer NCOs ’ questions in your army? ”
“ We do. ” Brock still wasn ’ t sure what to say.
“ …AND? What the f*** are you looking at? ”
“ I ’ m looking at you Stárshiy. ” *This isn ’ t the army, it ’ s a freelance crew, I don ’ t have to put up with this s*** anymore. *
“ Oooh looking at me boy? You know the Chief doesn ’ t take kindly to sexual advances between crew. ”
“ I… What? ”
“ We ’ re all professionals here, you ’ ll just have to control yourself, even with 89 kilos of sexy standing right by you. ”
It took Brock ’ s nervous brain a moment to realize that the old NCO was joking. *Fine, two could play that game. *
“ Can ’ t make any promises Stárshiy. ”
The Stárshiy ’ s face never broke his stern glare, yet Brock detected an amused glimmer in his eyes.
“ Honesty, that ’ s what I like to hear, now stop undressing me with your eyes and help drag Scout over to those crates. ”
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[ WP ] The Middle East is littered with the bones of long-forgotten civilizations . Amidst the sectarian violence and religious wars , something has awakened .
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**50 miles South East of Amman, Jordan**
Khaled chased his younger sister Nina across the golden sand dunes, his feet sinking down deeply with each step. It was like trying to wade through thick mud and he was already breathing hard.
Their mother disliked them playing'tag' under the blistering mid day sun, but they rarely listened to her.
Nina made it to the top of the largest dune a few moments before Khaled. She looked back and stuck her tongue out at him, before quickly disappearing down the other side of the dune.
`` Nina!'' shouted an almost breathless Khaled, `` Nina! Come back! We should not go down into the valley of bone!''.
There was no response and so Khaled continued to the top of the dune. He saw his sister below, weaving in and out of a huge white jaw bone. `` Stupid child.'' he muttered nervously before sliding down the dune and continuing the chase.
`` Nina!'' he yelled again. He ran through an immense rib cage that once belonged a creature far older and larger than anything that now existed. He soon reached the jaw bone he had seen his sister near. He paused as he reached it, taking a moment of respite in the bones great shadow. Then he saw her standing still about 20 feet away, holding a small shining object in her tiny hands.
He began to creep slowly and silently, preparing to catch his sister with stealth instead of speed. Nina was completely enamoured with the object she held and Khaled found it easy to sneak up behind her.
`` RAAAH!!!'' Khaled said as he jumped forward and landed two hands onto her shoulders.
Nina screamed in surprise and threw the gem she had found high into the air. It landed hard on a large piece of Basalt rock. The gem shattered into a thousand tiny mirrors. They glistened furiously under the high sun.
`` Idiot Khaled! Look what you have done!'' shouted Nina.
`` It was just green glass, Nina. Sometimes you can be so du-''
He was interrupted by the sound of scraping - of bone against sand. He turned around to face the graveyard he had passed through. He opened his mouth to speak but no words left his mouth. The giant bones were slowly moving towards each other. He watched in terrified fascination as previously unseen bones rose from beneath the ground in a cascade of sand and connected themselves to the rib cage. Two huge bone wings attached themselves to the growing body.
Khaled finally found his voice. He grabbed his sisters small hand and yelled `` RUN!''. They ran faster now than they ever had, flying past the connecting bones and to the base of the dune that lead out of the valley. They were half way up when they heard the terrible flapping. A sand storm erupted in the valley, swallowing the two children. They felt, rather than saw, the great shadow fall over them. Nina began to cry.
`` Nina, it will be ok. I love you.'' said Khaled as the bone dragon descended upon them.
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[ WP ] Write a story about a Church Grim .
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( I got waaay carried away here and this is my first submission so I hope you enjoy it )
CISSY SAYS—*I DON ’ T LIKE IT WHEN YOU GO PROVOKING THE LOCAL FAUNA*
HEATWAVES SHIMMER ON THE TARMAC. Bike spoke beads *ticker, ticker, ticker* over as my sister rides in slow circles in the road. Her boots are too big for her; I can see them slipping off her feet as they dip in and out of my view as she pedals, laces trailing. It ’ s so hot, I feel all sticky and stale, wilting in the heat. Everyone sensible is indoors ( * ‘ Only mad dogs and Englishmen! ’ * our father says ) and the streets are quiet.
But someone else is there. Someone is creeping on us.
He ’ s standing on the other side of the churchyard wall, in the shade of a large yew tree, leaning on the trunk idly. His skin is my favourite shade of skin-cancer brown against a white sleeveless t-shirt, glistening with sweat, and his long black hair is scraped back into a top-knot. He has harsh eyes and a smile full of sharp teeth. I ’ ve seen him here before, always in this area. And I ’ ve seen him looking before. Oh, he ’ s pretending he ’ s not, but I have plenty of experience with pretending not to look at things, and every so often I catch his narrow eyes on us.
Creep.
I stand. “ Let ’ s go in. Come on. ”
“ I don ’ t want to, ” she says. “ You go. I ’ ll wait here. ”
“ No. I ’ m in charge. ”
“ You ’ re *always* in charge. ”
“ I ’ m *always* the oldest. ”
“ I ’ ll tell Dad. ”
“ Dad will back me up. Come on. ”
“ You know I hate this. ”
“ Oh, come with me. I ’ ll buy you a slushy on the way home? ”
She pretends to deliberate. I know she can ’ t resist a slushy, and I know she wants to stay out here on her own with a strange young man watching her even less than she wants to go into the old church with me. She knows she ’ s safe with me. “ Fine. ”
I wait for her at the gate while she chains her bike to a lamppost. The latch is rusted up and when I push the gate it swings open freely and creakily.
“ Ooh, ” I say. “ Ooh, hear that? Creaky gate. ”
“ Stop it. ”
Cissy shrinks closer to me, despite the heat, as we walk past the churchyard boy. “ I don ’ t like his face, ” she whispers to me, and up close it is sharp and narrow and his eyes have a watching quality to them.
I give him a sarcastic little wave and feel his eyes on us all the way up the crooked path into the church.
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[ WP ] The Greatest Trick The Devil Ever Pulled
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“ It ’ s always about him isn ’ t it? ” Lucifer thought to himself. “ It doesn ’ t matter how many times he kills, tortures or even nearly wipes them all out, they always come back with bent knees praising his name. It doesn ’ t matter that he's been so passive for hundreds of years, they always come crawling back. ”
“ If the guy was n't such a control freak the world would have been mine a long time ago. He does n't care about them, he doesn ’ t even remember them. He just won ’ t let me win, that ’ s all this is, a way for him to inflate his ego letting me know I can ’ t beat him. ”
“ And I was so close! Right at the beginning I almost had him! He thought he was so clever but I was more so! He never suspected me and I just had to wait. His precious humans, so loving but so gullible. That was his mistake. He wanted them to love him, to worship him; the perfect beings to let him know just what a good god he was. ”
“ But they were flawed. Of course he would never admit that but it was true. His perfect creation did n't even understand the concept of sin and could never see his lie. How could they when he did n't give them just a basic understanding of what it was he hated so much? In the end he set them up to fail. All I had to do was whisper in the girl ’ s ear and they were corrupted. But it was n't enough.''
“ How could they still love him over me after I gave them the knowledge to see him for what he truly was, a manipulative tyrant! Instead they cry and beg forgiveness. Every time I achieve a victory, no matter how small, in the end they always go back to him! Civilizations are built and fall but they cling to him still! It ’ s not fair! I lived among them and showed them the way but they never see it that way, it ’ s always about him! I…''
Lucifer stopped. He finally realized what he needed to do. He ’ d done it before so God would be looking for it but this time he would win! He wasn ’ t a snake lurking around and whispering anymore, he would scream and shout and they would love him for it.
30 years later
It was finally time. It hadn ’ t been easy getting to this place. First he had to find a vessel. He searched the globe until he found the perfect candidate. Some naïve girl got knocked up by her boyfriend and her parents would kill her when they found out. He came to her in the night taking the form of the angel Gabriel, God ’ s new favorite pet. He offered her a way out, give the baby to him and he would help convince people it was through divine intervention. She was all too eager to agree and her boyfriend happily went along.
Then came the waiting. He made a mistake at first. He wanted the world to know of his coming so he gave them a message. They came with gifts of gold, myrrh and frankincense but he drew too much attention to himself. The old man finally realized what he was up to and tried to have him killed. Almost got him too but he managed to escape in the end. So he decided to lay low for a while. He had to blend in if he wanted to stay away from God's eye.
Carpenter. It was the perfect disguise. The old fool was far too arrogant to think of it himself. He would never slum it but Lucifer had been living in the dredges for a long time and knew how to fit in.
Finally the time came. He started off simply enough. Turning water into wine wasn ’ t difficult and helped him gain a following but it wasn ’ t too amazing as to alert `` His Majesty''. He slowly ramped up the miracles and gained quite a following.
Finally God took notice but in typical fashion he did as little work as possible. He had barely lifted a finger since the days of Moses so he decided to let his people do his work for him. He whispered into the Pharisees ’ ears about a new false god and his people reacted but they were too late.
By the time they hung him on the cross it was too late. Word had spread about the miracle man and people clung to it. He finally understood the humans. They needed something tangible, something to reinforce their beliefs.
Lucifer chuckled bitterly to himself as he hung gasping for breath. “ I will beat you this time, he muttered, “ You will finally understand what it ’ s like to be forgotten by those who love you. ” He grimaced in pain. “ Father! ” he cried out to heaven, “ Why have though forsaken me! ” It was the one question he never got an answer to. He was tossed away like an old toy and replaced with these humans. Well he would have his revenge!
With one last gasp for air he looked into the eyes of the things he hated most. “ It is done. ”
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[ WP ] Around 2100 all humans on Earth and nearby space mysteriously go extinct , leaving only a few hundred people across bases on Mars . Most of them only have supplies for a few months .
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`` Spores.''
`` What?''
`` There are spores in the ventilation units on Sector B, sir. They're from the outside, but..''
`` That makes no fucking sense, are you reading that moniter properly, or did you go cross-eyed again''
`` No sir, there are definite reports of contaminants in that sector, want to have a look?''
`` Move over''
`` Yes sir''
A moment of timeless silence passes and the soldier checks his watch. The watch ticked away slowly, the incandescent lights from the ceiling glimmering off the gold foil so that he could almost see his image. Almost. He tried to remember why he wore the watch, but he could recall nothing. It had been so long since he first received the watch on Earth. Now, nothing, nada, zip, zilch. Not a single memory remained. The person who had given it to him, what was his name?''
`` Shit''
`` Sir?''
`` It's gone, the entire section is infected with the spores''
`` What does this mean, sir?''
`` Do you have any brain cells left between your ears, or are they used remembering that underwear go underneath your pants?''
The soldier did not mind the abuse that the lieutenant dished out on him regularly, in fact it happened on such an occasional basis that he could use this time to daydream of what life would be like on Earth. On earth, there were no worries, everyone was happy, and there was food. Lots and lots of delicious food, and no one had to worry about starving.
``... We'll set the charges on Terminal C and the cross section 1-B. This should clear out most of the spores before it reaches the rest of the supplies. Got all that? ``
The soldier did n't reply because he was in the middle of a trance that jumped from rivers of chocolate to Italian hoagies. All very mouthwatering, all happening right in front of the Lieutenant. The commanding officer said nothing, as he unlatched the weapon from his holster. The soldier sensing the immediate presence of danger, snapped out of his trance
`` Sir, wha..''
`` Do n't move a muscle'' the lieutenant growled. At first he had thought it was just a figment of his imagination playing up, but seeing it for a second time told him otherwise. The shimmering form behind the soldier did not move an inch now that it's secret became compromised, but even the creature realized that its fate was sealed by the six inch barrel pointing straight at its chest.
Boom
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[ EU ] Write a Jedi 's journal entries as they slowly succumb to the Dark Side .
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Journal Entry 201
I have felt numb for so long. The Order had brought life back into me. No, not life, but it had given me a purpose out of the bleak existence I had living prior to it. Rereading my journal I realize how lonely I had felt before I had been chosen to enter the academy. They gave me purpose when I had simply existed, it felt better than being numb. But now it is starting to seem pointless; the beings on all these planets make the same mistakes over and over again and we are sent in to only guide them? I saw myself today in a young girl. I `` rescued'' her, but the truth is I arrived too late and only found what Master Rasi had found with me: an infant covered in the blood of her parents...
Journal Entry 324
I have been following Aria closely since she arrived to the temple. She reminds me of so much of myself: a young force sensitive child that has seen to much too early. She has the same stare that I have, the same numbness behind her eyes.
Journal Entry 1420
Aria has been showing such promise in the Academy. She is quick in battle and always aware of the situation. She absorbs everything like a sponge. She has found meaning, the same focus I use to have. I can not allow her to lose that drive.
Journal Entry 3240
I went to the council and requested that Aria be my padawan. They denied me. They stated that we had too much in common, that she would learn better through a Master that had a different focus within the force. How can I tell them that I wish to prevent her from seeing what I have seen? That I do n't want to her see that it is all pointless... Tomorrow I will be assigned my padawan.
Journal Entry 3241
My padawan's name is Elco. He is full of life and naivete. He has n't seen what I have seen, he has so much training ahead of him... I am tired...
Journal Entry 3242
Aria came to me today. She was confused as to why I had not chosen her as her padawan. We have barely interacted since I `` rescued'' her, yet we still have a bond, a bond that she feels too. Jedi's are n't suppose to be attached, but I feel very protective her. I tell her that the Master that has chosen for her will complement her better than me, but that she is always more than welcome to come and ask for guidance from me. She knows I am lying to her about the reason, but she accepts it.
Journal Entry 3300
Elco has shown promise in our duels. He has begun to focus more and be still, initially he was easily distracted with any and all stimuli in the environment... We are being sent to the Outer Rim to deal with a smugglers, should be a simple task that will allow me to understand my padawan better. I am tired.
Journal Entry 3301
The smugglers should have been only trafficking weapons according to our sources. I let Elco take the lead in trying to locate them, it allowed me to observe my young, inexperienced padawan. He noticed things quicker than most, perhaps that is why he still needs training in battle; he sees too much. We were able to find the den of the smugglers within a day thanks to Elco, it would have probably taken me it a little bit longer, but then again I am not a young excited padawan anymore. I should n't have let him take the lead in entering the den, but I needed to see how he would react. I could feel the presence of the children before he could and I needed to see how he would react. Anger. Him witnessing children being trafficked as slaves broke his naivite of what it means to be a Jedi. I could feel his anger rise and instead of guiding him, I watched. I watched as he freed as many of the children from the cages before the smugglers found us. He again did n't think but acted with emotions. They had us surrounded and he charged foolishly to the first smuggler he saw and got shot. It was my turn to finally act and I was swift. There must have been about 20 to 30 smugglers, but they were no challenge. I was mildly upset that that the last 10 smugglers surrendered so quickly. We will interrogate them tomorrow to see who these children were going to be delivered to.
Journal Entry 3302
Elco had a simple flesh would, but I could tell that was not what was bothering him. It took him till the morning after our encounter with the smugglers for him to finally talk to me. He asked me why I had let him lead last night. And I told him the truth. As a Jedi we will see a lot of indecent, immoral, and just plain disgusting acts and we must not allow our emotions to cloud our judgement. Rescuing the children was good, but our first act should have been to gain a better understanding of our environment and surprising the smugglers rather than the other way around. I could sense his anger again rise at the thought of the children. He said that those smugglers should have been executed, and again I had to explain myself. We are jedi, not executioners. We simply observe and guide beings and avoid conflict as much as possible. I told him that our mission was not to rescue the children but to determine where the weapons were going. I could tell my answers might have been too much for him to handle, but I believe that quicker he realized the reality of what a jedi did the faster he could grow.
Journal Entry 3302-b
I did not need Elco leading anymore, I understood my padawan well, and now it was his turn to observe me. We had initially seperated each of the smugglers so that they would not talk to one another. I now asked for the local authorities to put them all in the same room at the same time. As they entered the room where I was one at a time I observed each individual's reaction. When they had all entered the room it was clear to see who the leader was; the betas always look to their alpha when confronted by another alpha, in this case me. I took him to a separate room and then broke the remaining betas into groups of three and interrogated each group, and then had them all go back to their individual cells. I needed time to analyze the situation, and I needed them to feel anxious. I will talk to them tomorrow.
Journal Entry 3302-c
I trained Elco in dueling for a few hours after my interrogation. He has much to learn, he still allows his emotions to get the better of him. I could feel his frustration as he swung his saber carelessly. I did not attack him, but allowed him to attack me with everything. It is not a traditional way in training, but it is the method my Master had taught me. You must first understand your limitations before you can begun to push them. After we had finished battling, Elco finally said something that startled me. He told me that he had never really seen me smile, but when I had fought the smugglers he swore the he had seen me grinning. I pondered his question for a moment and told him that he must have been mistaken. I lied.
Journal Entry 3303
We are headed back to Coruscant. All the captives were murdered last night, excluding the one I designated the alpha. He is missing. I should have interrogated him yesterday, but I did not know what I know now. The captives were murdered by individual carrying a lightsaber.
Journal Entry 3306
I went and saw the Council and informed them of everything that had happened at the Outer Rim planet of Tatooine. Master Ven scolded me for not interrogating the smugglers leader immediately. I did not argue because he was right. The only information I was able to get out of the betas was that the weapons had originated from Tatooine and that the weapons were stopping at Florrum before heading elsewhere. The Council has decided that this matter needs immediate attention. Master Del and Aria were at Kamino, but now they are being directed to go directly to Florrum given the situation.
Journal Entry 3306-b
I talked to Master Rasi about Elco. I told him that he was quick to anger and that he should probably be sent back to the Academy. Master Rasi smiled and told me that most padawans are this way initially, but some like myself are different. I had seen trauma too early in my life and it had made me numb to most emotions. It was for this reason that I had been able to travel quickly up the ranks; I never let my emotions get the best of me because I had none. It was for this reason that I was so great in battle. I did not tell him about the joy I find when I battle, I did not tell him that when I battled everything became more clear for me... I do not know why I am afraid to tell him...
Journal Entry 3307
Elco has been training with me while we wait for news from Master Del and what is happening in Florrum. He is beginning to understand that we are sometimes blunt instruments of the Council. He is allowing his emotions not get the best of him anymore when we battle, but he still has a lot to learn. He needs to allow the force to guide him completely, it needs to flow through him during battle. I made a mistake when we dealt with the smugglers. I had assumed it would have been very easy to handle for him
Journal Entry 3310
Master Del has arrived back. He went immediately to the Council and they had a closed door meeting. It was brief and he seemed very uneasy when he glanced my way after leaving the Council.
Journal Entry 3310-b
Shortly after Master Del's meeting he was called back along with me. They informed me that Master Del and Aria had went to the rendezvous spot that the smugglers were meeting at. It was an ambush. The delay in sending me back to Coruscant had given time for an ambush to be planned. There were 20 trained fighters with blasters that attacked them. Initially. After taking about 10 of them down, 20 more men with blasters showed up. They fell back to their ship and while Aria was holding them off Master Del ran to start the ship. She had been able to hold off their attack until he arrived. Master Del said the men with blasters stopped attacking and simply watched as the sith and Aria began to battle. She was no match for him. Del abandoned her.
They watched me. I knew that they could all feel it. The Council stared at me because they could feel the change. The numbness was gone. He did the right thing according to the Council. The sith was too powerful for Del to defeat, and he had to warn the Council. I could feel it growing inside of me. The anger rising as I heard Del's excuse be approved by the Council. I had to mask my emotion better, but how could I when I had n't felt anything for so long.
Journal Entry 3311
Rasi came to my chambers early this morning while I meditated. We discussed at length about the anger I had felt the other day. He asked if it had subsided. It had n't, but it had changed. It felt like a focused anger now. I told him that it had left, that initially was angry but after a day of meditation I was able to let it go. He believed me. They told me that they had decided to send Rasi, Den, Ladi, and at the request of Rasi I was allowed to come along. The other Council members did n't want me to go along considering yesterday. Rasi had convinced them to allow me to go.
Journal Entry 3314
We found only the bodies of men. Aria was not among them. I watched as Rasi closed his eyes and peered into the environment with the force. I could feel the power he held with force, it was far more intense then I had imagined. He said that there was more going on then we could see. I do n't know what he saw, but he told us that we had to go back to Tatooine and he had to return to Coruscant and Ladi would remain at Florrum. The sith was very powerful, he was able to completely erase his presence as if he was n't there. If this sith was powerful enough to mask his presence from Rasi then the sith's master would have to be very powerful. There is never one sith.
Journal Entry 3315
He attacked Den first. He had come from the shadows and went for Den first. Den fought hard, but he was never truly able to gain any advantage against our foe. He yelled for my assistance. I abandoned him, just like he had abandoned her. When he had fallen, the sith turned to me. He had a grin on his face, and began to taunt me telling me that she was still alive. I attacked swiftly. There was no numbness, just raw focused anger. He did n't last that long. I went for his right leg first and then the his left arm. His saber never touched the ground, it went straight to my hand. Two sabers, felt right. I remember not asking him anything at first. I let him squirm in pain before I removed his other leg. I watched as he began to crawl with one arm. I asked him where she was. He laughed and said she was with his master. I removed his head.
Journal Entry 3315-b
I ignored the calls from Coruscant. Resi would be here with other Council members slowly. They would know what I had done. They could see into the environment and see the past through the force. I was not going to deny what I did. I know there was no coming back. They say only siths deal in absolutes, that is a lie. The jedi are not forgiving.
Journal Entry 3315-c
He came within the hour. I did n't feel his presence till he allowed me to feel it. I charged him. So naive, such foolishness. He threw me aside like a doll and laughed. He was mildly suprised that his apprentice had barely lasted against me. He had saved her from his apprentice. His apprentice had almost killed her before he intervened. He would take me to her. Ladi found us before I could answer. Ladi looked at Den's body, the sith apprentice's body, and then looked at the sith. I could feel the fear he felt. How could a member of the Council feel such fear? He turned to me and said that the sith only spoke lies, that I must not trust him. The sith laughed and told Ladi to shut up. He reprimanded him. There was familiarity between the two. Ladi attacked him, or at least tried. The sith was too quick, he disarmed him within two strikes; I had never seen such speed before. I was ashamed of myself for not assiting Ladi, I would not abandon him like I did with Del. I attacked the sith, but he disarmed nearly instantly. He walked away with our lightsabers and told me that Aria had lost her right arm, but she was safe. He then walked to his ship and opened the door. She walked out. He then had her and Ladi fight... she had joined the dark side? I watched as she began to lose, I could not allow this to happen. I turned to the sith and he looked at me briefly before he tossed me my weapon. Ladi was no match for both Aria and me. I watched as Aria knelt before her master. I felt myself kneel as well. I knew the jedi would know what had happened here. I knew there was no going back. I knelt down as a jedi. I arose a sith. My first mission is to start a civil war at Naboo. A new government must be installed. The jedi allow disorder to flourish, the sith do not.
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sorry about the sloppiness. Did n't know how to end it and began to stretch it out too much. Honestly felt like I was rambling. Still was fun to imagine the story play out as I wrote it. Full disclosure, I do not know that much as Star Wars Expanded Universe.
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[ WP ] you discover your child has the ability to make anything exist , as long as she believes in it enough . You think this is amazing ... Until you realise children tend to believe in a lot of things quite easily ... .
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[ in 100 words or less ]
Everything my 6-year-old daughter drew became real. Last week it was a unicorn. After that came a dragon, then an alien, then a mermaid. Yesterday, she made Jesus appear and He's been smoking all my pot. I've been keeping them in the basement and have n't had time to rest.
After a stressful day at work, all I wanted to do was relax. As I sat on the couch, my daughter gave me a gift. `` Happy Father's Day, dada!'' she said as I unwrapped it. It was Half-Life 3. `` My God!'' I said.
`` Yeah?'' Jesus shouted from below.
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[ WP ] You are the only magician left in the world . Every spell you cast brings you one step closer to death . Today , you cast your final spell .
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Uriel, the God-king narrates to his thrall:
`` I awoke early in the morning, knowing my trip would be a very difficult one. All of my companions died on the way through this frosty abyss, but legend has it that the Bastion of Souls lies just beyond the mountain's peak.
I would never have wished for imortality had I known the consequences. The bastion of souls is where all of the magical essence goes when people die, and where the magical essence comes from when they are born. I did n't realize what this meant untill just a few decades ago, no more magic was being spread through the young as it had before. Before, everyone could atleast manage a few simply conjurings, today none are capable, and most doubt magic's very existence. As my kingdom's unrest was threatening to overthrow my rule, I fled. After nearly a century of research I believe I have found the place where all human magic rests in the world, long lost to all human kind. ``
`` How was that''. Uriel inuired
`` yes sir'', the thrall muttered
Uriel longed for the contact of another, for nearly a week he had been alone on his journy, and he now began to deeply regret conjuring such an unintelligent thrall so many years ago. His memoir served as the only thread maintaining his sanity and he feared it too may fall away. He was to fearfull to even look at what the thrall was writing, fearing that he was too unintelligent to even comprehend what was being said to him.
`` It was my immortality which prevented more magic from entering the world'' Uriel continued.
`` All of the magic that would normally go to the brith of another, instead went into keeping alive my ever decaying body. Stopping time is no laughing matter, and it takes an exponentially larger amount of magic as the years go by. Now, every three years, I am half as living as I was before. This is my last chance to expell my magic and make things right in the world. Without magic, the people are cowardly and soulless, fear and hate brew a powerfull toxin that brings nothing but destruction. ``
As Uriel took his last few steps up to the peak of the mountain pass, he paused, struck by complete awe. He never expected to see what was before him. A massive towering palace surrounded by large walls and shrouded in an etherial myst, the kind only seen in the cosmic plane. He feared this may be such a powerfull ward that his quest would all be for nothing.
He stepped forward, and felt the ground quickly shift under him, he had stepped on a loose rock and while he tried to leap back, it was too late, and he found humself tumbling down the steep mountain slope, his thrall bounding downward with relative ease. Uriel relized where his tumble was leading him; a cravace of incredible depth. He comanded his thrall to catch him, and they lept accross. Uriel quickly grabbed onto a rock, frozen halfway in the icy wall, his thrall carrying his memoir vanished into the icy depth. The fall was so incedible, no sound was heard from the thrall, along with all of the gear he was carrying, hitting the ground.
Uriel wondered what the point even was. At this point he knew he would not make it up. There was no way he would be able to pull himself up off this ledge, having broken both of his legs in the fall. He belted out a thunderous roar, the kind that can only come from a millenia of hardship and war. His kingdom fallen into chaos, his closest friends all dead because of him, and his son, never able to know the joy of magic. He had failed, his life was a waste. Thining back to his days as a slave, he wondered if that would have been better than the life he chose. Had he not found that spellbook and freed his fellow slaves, led the revolution, and built an empire. As he recalled the dying eyes of all of his friends, his companions, and the people he freed from the bond of slavery, he knew he had to compelte his quest. He pulled with every bit of strenght that he could, his head now peering over the edge of this frozen cliff. He leaned his chest forward trying to gain leverage and just then, his hand slipped. The single defining moment of his life, seeming like an eternity. He felt every small detail of it, his chilled hand failing to grasp at what he thought was a solid hold, his foot failing to catch onto the small dent in the ice. He was detached from the earth, and contemplated his doom.
...
..
A hand shot down, grabbed his arm, and threw it over the edge, a massive arc he flew, and landed harsley onto the hardened snow. A bearded monk stand in front of him, while clearly a very elderly man, he had the build of a most skilled warrior in his prime.
`` You certainly have been through much'' the monk said in a sympathetic and caring tone. Like a father coming to help an injured son, he comforted Uriel, picked him up, and carried him towards the glowing cloud of iridescent myst, a glittering stardust of soothing light.
`` We had been waiting for this day. I was just a young man, of 20 years when the last other monk here died. It was our duty to keep this place safe from the gods, and safe from men who migh abuse its power. When we relized what happend with you, we knew we had failed. It was too late to send anyone out for you, as we could not leave this place unattended.''
They were going down a long corridor now, built of gray brick the castle still glimmored on the inside, the only comparison would be that of the night sky, twinkling startlight shined through the entire building, there were no torches or laps around, but the room glowed like a mystical twilight.
Struck with awe Uriel tried to speak, and ask what was happening, only to realize that his body was all but dead, himself a lving husk. Unable to move or speak, he pondered if it was too late. His only solace was the peacfull calm of the monk that spoke to him, his words now incomprehensible. The soft warm voice carried him through many rooms and towers, untill he foundhimself at the very top of a golden arena, with an ocean of a pool in the center, it was the time for his last spell. He lifted his spirit out of his body, tearing his very essence away from his lifeless corpse, he did n't realize how difficult it would be, his curse pulling him back in. Years of training with the liches of old, learnign their skills for the isolation of the souls. He now wondered if he was right in trusting those ghosts and their ancient ways. Suddenly, a flash of light, and he felt himself fade away losing all of his individuality as his essence pooled into the source of all human magic, he had made it, the world could now resore balance. With his last second of himself, he felt the embrace of all of his lost loved ones and companions. He had been forgiven, and the world could now be set back on course.
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[ WP ] Write a story that will scare me out of wasting my life
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I was loitering next to the machine, it's sparkling new AI cleverly adopted into a human shape, a human body. It looked frustrated, like an equation was before it, a simple mathematical equation, and it could n't solve it. All it did was seek to relentlessly solve equations. To simplify, to expedite, to get to the bottom line.
I casually flicked the unwanted half of my cigarette into an ashtray and it's eyes bulged in impotent rage,'' Oh my god,'' she said,'' You just wasted half a cigarette!''
I glared back at her,'' If I do n't completely fill my lungs with each breath, is that a wasted breath?''
She blinked and was blank. Incorporated into her human form she had maybe taken a full deep breath some 30 or 40 times in her whole life. She became a manifestation of the waste she so sought to eliminate, a thing that was n't 100 % efficient, a thing that did n't produce at maximum level. The simple fact that in order to function properly, effectively, even superiorly she did n't have to finally dawning on her.
She relaxed and smiled.
I smiled back.
Tonight could get interesting.
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[ WP ] That light at the end of the tunnel turns out to be an oncoming train .
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Hey, you.
Yeah, that ’ s right. The one reading this.
Can I ask you a strange question? No, nothing NSFW or anything. More strange because of the metaphor.
Ever been in a situation, a real bad situation, where you can see the light at the end of the tunnel? It ’ s getting closer and closer to you, and at the end you break out into a run - only to realize you ’ re not running. You ’ ve been stuck in place, tied down to the rails in some way or another. Rails? Yeah, because that light is a train. And bam, squish, splat you ’ re suddenly dead! Hopes dashed, dreams culled, and future destroyed, and you thought you were so close!
Except, you take a step back and think about it.
Think about it hard.
You weren ’ t close at all, were you?
You were going to be stuck in that darkness for a good while longer.
Ever been in a situation like that?
Work with me here.
Think about it. I know, already stretching a stretch of a metaphor, but realize: that train had a conductor.
You may have been the one to walk into the tunnel - or be dragged down it - but that train had a conductor.
What was that conductor doing? He didn ’ t even look as the train ’ s wheels cleaved into your side. He was negligent to his job in the best case. If anything, he should be the one at fault, unable to see an obviously important person stuck in the tunnel.
By the way, you couldn ’ t have managed to tie yourself up like that.
You couldn ’ t move, remember? When you saw the train and tried to run, you found yourself tied down on the rails.
That bastard, the one that tied you down, isn ’ t he the one at fault? The one that should be guilty, the one that should be blamed. The bastard with the ropes.
The fact the light at the end of the tunnel happened to be a train was not your fault.
Right?
Make it right, why don ’ t you?
The bastard with the ropes should be the one tied down.
Make him squirm.
Watch him squirm.
Watch him try to twist his hands helplessly. Watch him beg for his life, ask you for forgiveness, spare him from this torture.
As the sun comes up and the light at the end of the tunnel gets brighter, watch his face.
Watch his face as he realizes the sun is actually a train.
The conductor this time is watching the tracks. No matter.
You can watch the conductor's face too.
You ’ re in the right.
Make it right.
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[ WP ] Write a story ( any story ) with your eyes closed .
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well this is an bery interesting opromy indeed. U simplun cannoy keep thes the smile from my fave, well anywaym lets begin I suppose
why are you always so cold, aked remada. I just think you need to be a biy more respobnsive to my needs. Is that so much to ask for? Oh now youre not going to talk huh? Well that s fine with me, leave that shit eating frin on your fave, see if I care. Her grip fel tense as a bead of swea foremd upon her bnrow. You were always so boisterous, and now I can not even get a peep ouit of you. funnt how things end up when you habe had a knife slice your neck from your perfect little ear, to perfect little ear. Uou always saw tourself as he comedian, now people wil always know how funny you are, Ibky dunny people smile all the time. fin.
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[ WP ] The creation of the universe is like a slowly loading webpage with Earth being one of the only pieces of `` loaded '' content . One day , without warning , the rest of the empty universe suddenly `` loads . ''
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It began with a picture of a pyramid that my cousin posted. A vaguely Mesoamerican-looking pyramid, made of some bluish sort of rock, and captioned `` i never seed tihs befor''.
My cousin's atrocious spelling aside, the picture was *odd*. I knew pyramid-building civilizations were tropical ( mostly ), but the guy lives in Canada. So I shot him a message, asking what the picture was of. His reply was a very terse `` duno, never sen it untill yesday. 2 mile frm wher i live''.
The daily routine made me forget about it. Phone calls, emails, tickets to be submitted and solved, lunch with the coworkers, all of it numbly mundane, the intellectual rock where the seeds of new ideas take tentative root, only to be crushed and eaten by the large dumb herbivores we call `` users''.
I was reminded of the pyramid that evening, at home. Strangely, it was not on the internet, but on the news. Chopper footage of the mysterious artifact that had appeared in the Canadian wilderness was followed by a nearly-hysterical report from some astronomer who was confirming nothing, it was too soon to say anything, really, but was very unclear *what* it was he was n't confirming.
The next day, everything shattered. Every communications channel overflowing with pictures, recordings, politicians urging calm and religious figures preaching, according to their wont, salvation or damnation.
The skies had changed. Several thousand new stars, most of them in precisely geometric configurations, had suddenly *appeared*. What's more, all data that we could gather said that no, they were n't new. They were thousands, millions of years old. And none of them had existed last week.
Of course, the heavens were strange, but they had always been. The uncounted messages, on every conceivable wavelength, from radio and microwave to X-rays and gamma rays, were disturbing. Even more so was the fact that they appeared to have been sent a long while ago, linking all the new stars together.
They were alien, and they spoke in all the myriad tongues Man had ever spoken.
We were, suddenly, not alone.
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[ WP ] 2035 . Another American civil war has happened . You are living in the most targeted area , Washington D.C , in a bomb shelter you spent 4 days digging . The war 's final battle , a major offensive to take back Washington from the millitary , is taking place in your area .
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`` This is what we've been waiting for Bobby! It's finally happening!'' I yelled as I positioned myself once again to take a look through one of our two peep holes we had made in our man-made-man-cave that was 4-days deep underground.
Robert came running to me covered in his usual armory, an AK-47, three Glocks, two grenades, and a series of bows and arrows which he insisted were `` Just in case.''
`` What is it Sarah? Can you see them?'' he asked as he whipped out his gun.
`` No, no, they're fighting! They're fighting here!'' I replied.
He swallowed, hard, as we both peered outside. `` Really hope that stupid door holds' Bobby replied as he stared back at the entrance to our hide out.
Between us and our opposition was 100 years of brick that had already been constantly falling due to its construction on the swampy surface of Washington DC. Protecting us from a direct assault was the confusing tunnel of DC roads that nearly made the city a fortress itself. With us in the hole was enough ammunition to blow up the national mall if we so chose, and enough food to last for weeks if we rationed.
Yet none of that really mattered now, because for some reason, both troops had picked right here to be the site of what appeared to be the most massive battle the war had clearly ever seen.
`` Up there'' Robert commented as he indicated in front of us, `` What's that?''
`` That would be our former US military'' I replied, `` Or as you may more affectionately refer to them, The regime that recently did a coupe on the government.''
`` And that?'' he asked as he indicated to the left. `` Looks like civilians wearing pots and pans as armor'' I replied. `` Disgusting.''
`` There's one hundred thousand more of the military than there are of us'' Robert complained as he went back to huddle against me, `` There's no way.'' He turned to stare at the door.
`` We should n't join them'' I replied to his unanswered question, `` It'll be the last time you ever get to see either side if you go out there right now. And you'll endanger me.'' `` Would you rather live under the military's rule?'' he asked me.
I thought about the food shortages, the random imprisonments, all of the things that had happened under General Tsaki's rule. `` No'' I said, `` No I do n't think it'd be a good idea. We did n't function well, we did n't function at all.''
We watched as the military descended upon the civilian army, watched as they backed towards where we hid, watched as a series of 16 year old former boy scouts were shot dead as they tried to run towards the military yelling `` Stop! Peace! We just want peace!''
Robert looked at me as we both realized the military had practically surrounded our encampment. `` Are those all of the civilian troops?'' he asked me as I shook my head, Most definitely not. We're everywhere.'' `` But look how many military there are'' he replied. We both knew what he was thinking without asking.
`` It could end the war'' Robert said as he stared back out there, `` It'd do a real dent in the other side.''
I sat back to hug my knees as I realized he had already made up his mind. He threw open the door to our hide out and started yelling `` Hey!'' causing some of the nearby military troops to charge towards us.
`` Sarah?'' Robert asked as I looked back at him, `` Bobby'' I replied.
I looked to my right and fumbled for my box of matches. `` I'll see you on the other side,'' he said.
I watched him close his eyes as I tossed the little firestick towards our stock piles. As the sounds of napalm and associated blast began to fill our tunnel I could n't help but notice that for the first time in a long time, he looked peaceful.
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[ WP ] Superheroes are real , but are sponsored by companies to pay for their super powers . At first everyone loved the drop in crime , but the non-stop advertising eventually drives everyone to the brink of madness . It is up to one organization of antiheroes to stop them.The world needs ADBLOC
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Who watches the Admen? That was what drove Piracy to join forces with the new initiative. He was a loner mostly, a gray masked hero of the people, but even one as apathetic as him could not ignore what was happening.
Crime had been replaced with exploitation. Violence had now become brainwashing. The large corporations had gone too far. Every year there was a new superhero movie, every year there was a new product line. Always by the same corporations. The world had gotten to commercialized. Too safe. It needed some shaking up.
The new initiative ADBLOC was bold. A group of self funded superheroes whose task was to keep the mainstream heroes in check. It was unprecedented. This idea was so new and untested that the film rights were still up for sale.
Piracy met the others. Aunty Popup was a sweet old lady. Mr. Blockscript was a square old man. Their leader, Veepien, was the only competent hero. This was not going to be easy.
At first they took down the more annoying third rate heroes. With Aunty Popup and Mr. Blockscript blocking their visibility, the heroes floundered for exposure. Coupled with Veepien ’ s ability to bring forth new, fresh, non-commercialized heroes from anywhere in the world and Piracy ’ s ability to steal their powers in a more convenient way, the third rate heroes hemorrhaged money. Soon their sponsors dropped out and their powers diminished.
Many third rate heroes fell. It was a welcomed epidemic. The lack of advertising had revitalized communities, bringing back the feelings of being free. There was even a rise in murders for the first time in a long time. The killing of the disenfranchised brought great happiness to the country and the big corporations were starting to worry.
The large conglomerate Comicast put together a team to battle this new enemy, ADBLOC. With heroes such as Bundle Price and Mr. Monopolist, Aunty Popup and Mr. Blockscript were murdered, their bodies found in the gutter. Even great leader Veepien was no match for the great eyeball, Eyedentify, whose power of locating and reading one ’ s deepest and darkest of secrets, would end his life. After revealing to the world of Veepien ’ s shocking affair with a hot lonely single woman near Anonymous, Veepien had committed suicide to save his family the pain.
It was a battle lost it seemed. The corporations were big, too big. But Piracy remained. They never really managed to kill him, the superheroes. His power of convenience always saved him, allowing him to escape. Soon he became the shadow that all superheroes were afraid of, the bane of corporations. He was a man of the people, and a symbol of hope. With the death of ADBLOC, Piracy was now a loner again, but the movement had not died. More people than ever were now asking: Who watches the Admen?
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[ WP ] Everyone with the same name shares knowledge . If one Bob gets a degree in electrical engineering , then all Bob 's have this knowledge readily available . Soon , everyone starts naming their kids similar names until factions form . Your parents rebelled and named you something original .
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It had been over three decades since the Xilian Collective visited Earth. They were strange hairy creatures, with beady eyes, big ears, and vestigial skin flaps under their arms. In all, they looked like alien space bats.
*'' We come in peace! `` *, they announced over the radio.
*'' What is this,'Mars Attacks'? `` *, we collectively responded.
*'' Actually, it's'Earth vs. the Flying Saucers'. We picked up its signals a week ago. We liked it so much we decided to pay you a visit. Not all civilizations are capable of producing such high forms of art. Now take me to your leader! `` *
After downloading the entirety of Netflix, the benevolent Xilians decided to leave.
*'' By the way, everyone born with the same name will now share the same knowledge. `` *
*'' Where'd you get that idea from? and how is it even possible? `` *
*'' Some writing prompt on reddit, and we're alien space bats. `` *
And they were gone.
Worldwide, it was decided to name all newborns ( even the girls ) *Ome*.
This was the simplest, most language-neutral, easiest to pronounce word the UN naming-council could agree upon. *Ome* won narrowly over competing names, like *Bob*, *Ju*, or *Muhammad*. Henceforth, children would be distinguished by their middle names.
The agreement was not without its detractors. Ambassador G. Walker representing Belgium had an interesting suggestion: *'' Why do n't we just use a few names instead of one? This way, we'll ensure that factions form. Some factions will be good at art, others at engineering, others in medicine, and so on. Parents can choose a name for their child based on which professional faction they support. `` *
Even a cursory analysis of Ambassador Walker's proposal was enough to reveal its ludicrous sub-optimality. Take four children, two named Abe and two named Bob. Abe # 1 studies Math. Abe # 2 studies English. Bob # 1 studies History. Bob # 2 studies Art. Both Abes are now good at Math and English, while both Bobs are good History and Art. No child is proficient in all 4 subjects.
Now take four children, all named Abe. Abe # 1 studies math. Abe # 2 studies English. Abe # 3 studies history, and Abe # 4 studies art. All 4 Abes are proficient at all 4 subjects. This is a net gain for all children, at no loss to any.
Ambassador Walker was laughed out of the naming-council. Out of nothing more than personal spite, he decided to name his only son *Walker Jr.*, condemning him to a life of misery, never to feel the infinite wisdom of the One-Mind. In today ’ s world, where mere children can assemble warp drives, Walker Jr. is the equivalent of a tongueless caveman smashing stones.
.
.
.
.
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*'' Quite a story... It's all common knowledge, but I still like the way you put it all together. `` *
*'' Thank you Dr. Ome, I only hope that you can change it,'' * I replied.
*'' We'll try our best. But I must caution you that we've only begun to scratch the surface of Xilian nomenclative syneuronics. `` *
*'' It's my only shot, now where do I sign? `` *
*'' On the dotted line, Mr. Walker... or should I now call you Mr. Ome? `` *
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[ WP ] You accidentally become the leader of a cult .
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I did n't want to be elected Pope. Enclave protocol demanded that candidates not vote for themselves in the first round, but for me, Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, my vote was sincere. The Church is too corrupt to be reformed; the wrinkled faces in the ancient basilica were filled with the same lust for power that had irreversibly perverted the faithful and the holy see.
I sat silently while years of backroom dealings whitled down the list of candidates pining to be the next Vicar of Christ. I had no right to judge these lechers; decades earlier I had bowed to Caesar when he threatened to take my authority and the lives of my underlings. So I waited amid the infighting, shifting my vote randomly throughout the day.
The men running the bank had their favorite, the Italian mob another. The pedophile lobby backed the American, who had already been paid to campaign for the Swiss anticommunist. I just wanted to return home and serve the unfortunate souls suffering in the slums surrounding my gilded cathedral. No one thought me important enough to be bribed.
Everything stopped when a voice began to call my name. It was deafening yet beautiful. `` Bergoglio! Bergoglio!''
I knew this voice.
`` Speak LORD, your servant is listening.''
`` Bergoglio! Bergoglio! It's all fucked up Bergoglio! The inequities of my shepherds condemn my flock, and the stench of underage sex dungeons lead me to grow weary of mankind.'' the other priests either screamed in terror or laughed as they searched for hidden sound systems.
The LORD continued to speak as frogs began to rain from the ceiling. `` Oh Bergoglio. My servant Bergoglio, it's up to you to deal with these assholes. I'm this close to wiping them all out. Now you're the pope!''
His will be done, now I am the pope: may my reign be brief.
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[ WP ] All the countries of the world are in highschool . What are the relations to each other , seen from a human standpoint ?
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When the schoolbell rings for lunchtime, the Dutch kid knows exactly where to sit. Even though he had a few fights with the german kid growing up, he had learnt that it was in his best interest to be on the german's good side. Especially since he was giving out free pencils to anyone who needed one. Even though he did n't need pencils right now, he could eventually need one in the future.
This one kid always forgot to take his pencils to school. He was Greek. He had built up such a large pencil-debt that every other kid in the clique was started to become annoyed with his lack of effort. Other kids, like Portugal, Ireland and Italy tried their hardest not to become like the Greek kid.
The Dutch kid tried to keep an open mind towards the other cliques. There were the Sub-Saharan African clique, who used South-Africa as a bridge to communicate with his group. Then there were the Asians, who, with the exception of South Korea and Japan mainly kept to themselves. He kinda liked China, because he always offered to make their homework for low prices. But, he was weary, because if he pissed off China, he could ruin his homework without him even knowing what hit him until the F would be brought to his table.
America had named itself class representative, but that was only after Great Britain was absent for a few months due to disease. When Great Britain returned, he had lost all of his muscle due to the disease, meaning he was n't able to impose any strength on the others. The Dutch kid did n't mind the American, because the other strong opponent, Russia, was more of a bully anyway.
Then there were the crazy kids. The north-of-Sahara african nations, middle east and arab nations. They always seemed to be fighting amongst themselves. He thought he had noticed a split-personality among some of them, at one time preaching sharing, and the other time preaching taking everything away from others. He was also certain they were responsible for the flea infestation that had to deal with for a few weeks now.
*I missed a few locale's ( namely South America ) but hey. Also wrote it from the Dutch POV, since I'm Dutch*
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[ WP ] In the distant future , the only way to earn your high school degree , which is essential to survive , is to survive a fight to the death with a classmate .
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`` We became too many.'' The Group intoned as one. A large crowd of boys and girls in their late teens who stood in concentric circles around a fighting arena.
`` Too many destroyed the world.'' The second line went, reminding them of the first reason they had to fight. To prevent over population. Only a certain number of them would leave this room alive. All of them would fight to the death at least once.
`` The world's destruction called the Vrax.'' The third line went, reminding them that the Vrax had attacked Earth when humanity was weak.
`` The Vrax caused us to fall.'' The Vrax had enslaved all humans under their power.
`` We claimed to our feet on the bones of the Vrax.'' Humans fought to survive, fought for freedom in a long and bloody war. They finally drove the Vrax away.
`` We will not fall again.'' There were many other powers out there beside the Vrax. All of them either hated or feared humanity. All of them wanted to crush humanity into the dust. This was the second reason for the fight, to ensure that humanity was strong enough to survive.
Sacre was in the third ring. The number pinned to her dress was 4242. She was short, her bones tiny. She was quick and agile, that was her key advantage. However, she did not want to fight, she had vowed to never do harm again. She did not want to die either. She did not know how to do it.
She looked up at the random pairing board, waiting for the lights to flash the first pairing. As she waited, she thought back to her vow. It was a training class; Sacre was the top of it. Best of the best, she was likely to get a high seed. A high seed meant an easy fight. A low seed meant almost certain death, going against someone who was so much bigger and stronger then you were. Jones had been the friendly sort. Always nice and kind. He had big strong arms and a body that would make anyone jelous. However, he had been raised in an illegal parasite sect. They had found and killed everyone who was a part of it. However, because he was young, he was spared. He rarely won fights, but it was not from a lack of skill. Indeed, he had just deflected their attacks away. His non-violent approach to life and death had earned him the derision of most. Then one day as they were climbing a mountain together, he fell. He broke his back and was dying fast. He had made Sacre promise that she would do what he was going to do in the fight, that his message was more important. So Sacre had vowed to deliver the message.
She would not break her vow. She trembled as she realized how close her death was. Death had always scared her. What was after death? Nothing, death was oblivion. She tried to imagine what it was going to be like. However, it was going to be like nothing because she would not exist to sense anything. However, try as she might, she could not conceive of her own non-existence.
Her number flashed on the pairing board, she stood and walked to the Sandy center. The eyes of the whole world were on her now. She looked at the classmate she was paired with. He was very low ranked, Sacre knew that she could take him if she wanted. It would be almost reflexive. One simple kill, surely there was a better way to get the message out. She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head.
The two of them went to the center and were both supposed to bow to show respect for the watchers. He bowed, Sacre did not, instead she cleared her throat. “ My fellow humans, I love my life. I don ’ t want to lose it today. I ’ m sure my friend who is bowing right now also does not want to die. ” She swallowed hard, trying to force the next words out. She could feel the terror welling up inside her. “ I will respect his wish not to die and will not kill him in this fight. ” She quickly bowed and went to her end of the circle.
The easy part was over, now came the hard part, dying. She took a breath, trying to calm herself and steady herself. Just a few more moments and it would all be over. She wondered what she was going to look like, sprawled on the sand, her life blood running out. She hoped that she would at the least die with dignity. Not screaming in pain or crying.
The crowd was not sure what to do, there was some mumbling among them. Sacre stood before the master of arms who put the silver knife into her hands. She thanked him, and turned to face her opponent. His silvery knife glinted as he held it. She smiled at him. The giant gong rang and the fight began.
Sacre turned and gently tossed the knife to the arms master. Once the knife was out of the bounds, it could no longer be used for that round. The other kid looked wary. She was the best fighter in the school, and he was the weakest.
She walked to the center of the ring and knelt gently in the center. She smiled at her killer and patted the sand beside her. “ Come on, it ’ s quite soft here. ” She called out to him, inviting him to join her in rebellion against tradtion.
He walked closer to her, circling her slowly. Every fiber of her being told her how to kill him. To kill him. To fight for her own survival. She could do it too, his stance was lousy and even armed with a knife, he could take him. The calm on her face was not indicative of the battle inside her. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her composure.
She felt him walk up behind her. His breath on her neck. How his arm reached around and put the cold steel of the knife against her neck. One slice and he could cut through her windpipe and the major blood vessels that fed her brain. Her heart pounded as her mind screamed for her to make a move to disarm him and use his own knife to kill him. However, years of training, of self-discipline held.
“ Goodbye. ” She whispered to herself as she closed her eyes even tighter, a tear rolling down her cheek. Then the cold hard edge was gone. She heard a clattering off to the side. She looked around, confused. He stood behind her. “ My fellow humans, I love my life. I don ’ t want to lose it today. I ’ m sure my friend who is kneeling right now also does not want to die. I will respect her wish not to die and will not kill her in this fight. ”
He plopped down on the side next to her. “ If you can face death like that, then so can I. ” He whispered to her. The referee was not sure what to do. Two contestants had never refused to kill or even injure each other before. Normally if there was something and they were somehow unable to kill each outher, then the one who was less disabled was called the winner and someone else would put the loser out of his misery. Usually earning a bye for it.
One by one, the referee called each of the students up to the stage. One by one, they joined Sacre in sitting down. It was the last year of that graduation service.
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[ WP ] Write a children 's story with a terrible moral .
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*Dr. Suess, I'm so sorry. *
One fish, two fish.
Red fish, blue fish.
Everyone knows that Red fish are better,
since they can at least read letters.
Everyone knows that Blue fish are scum,
since they're always pass out from rum.
Yes, it's true, and everyone one agrees.
Blue fish deserve to hung in the ash trees.
That's just the way it is,
according to everyone in the biz.
After all, the Red fish are the superior race.
Blue fishes' faces are graceless and filled with mace.
It's time we put them in their places.
So go on, destroy those disgraces.
Put them out of their misery with coup de grâces.
One fish, two fish.
Red fish, pure fish.
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[ WP ] As the antarctic ice thaws , something beautiful yet terrifying is revealed to be under just a few feet of ice . And it 's still alive .
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April 17th, 2056 11:42 AM
I've been in Antarctica for the past year, and let me tell you one thing: it sucks. It's freezing everyday, the wind is killer, and a minute does n't go by where you're not cold. I'm near the northern coast of Antarctica. Well, the whole continent only has a north coast, so I guess that's redundant.
I've been aiding a research team that is identifying microorganisms that thrive in the harsh climate of Antarctica. We've had quite a success, actually. We've found a lake that harbors the highest concentration of bacteria I've seen. It's incredible. The team has been going at it for over five years, and they say they've never seen anything like it. It was a biological break thru.
Yesterday, while we were drilling, we did run into a problem though. The drill we were using to delve into the frozen lake broke through as we moved it to an area of thin ice. The lake turns out to be deeper than we originally thought. We watched as the drill descended into the abyss, fading into darkness. That drill cost thousands of dollars. This was going to be a major setback for the expedition.
It's near noon on the 17th of April, and I hear a commotion outside, I better go check it out.
April 17th, 2056 2:45 PM
Oh god. What have we done? We stirred up something big when the drill broke through the thawing ice. I do n't know what it is. IT. That's all I can say to describe it.
I can hear the thundering crashes of the havoc it's causing. It's destroying all our equipment. Our communication to the outside world, our small settlement, all of our research. Gone.
My colleagues. God. They're all dead. I think I'm the last one left. I know I'm not gon na make it out alive. I have two choices that I can make. One, I can run away and let the frozen wastes suck the life out of me. Or Two, I can let IT kill me. I'm just writing down my last moments in the hopes that someone can know what happened here.
I can hear it moving closer now. The smell of fish and sulfur is growing stronger, and the chains around its feet and arms are rattling with every movement it makes, and the rattling is getting louder. I have an idea why it was chained up at the bottom of the lake.
I have never done wrong. But now, Satan has come to take my life.
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[ WP ] If all the US states attended a dinner party , what would each state be doing ? ( X-Post from /r/AskReddit )
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New Hampshire grabbed Colorado and stood him upright, his arm over her shoulders, supporting him and preventing him from slumping to the ground again.
`` Once again,'' New Hampshire spoke generally to the faces around the large table `` Can I just say how sorry I am.'' A few of the faces were glaring down at their plates, in Washington's case with a fixed glassy eyed stare, but most were looking sympathetic.
`` Hey babe, do n't worry,'' California had always been close to New Hampshire since their college days together. `` He's a good dude and he'll sort himself out and if you need any help getting home...?''. California grabbed Colorado's other arm and slung it over his own shoulder.
`` No, no thank you that's very kind but we'll be okay.'' New Hampshire smiled at the tall and tanned man helping support her husband. `` If you can help me get him in the car then we'll be fine at the other end. She turned to Wisconsin who had been hovering close by, trying to help, but unsure what to do. `` Thank you again for a lovely evening, I am so, *so* sorry for what my husband did in your toilet, *please* send me the bill for the cleaning.''
`` Oh no it's fine'' Wisconsin danced from foot to foot in social anxiety, her plump form wobbling slightly as it always did when she was nervous. `` It'll come right up with a little bleach and the dog seems to have recovered okay.'' The sounds of scrabbling could be heard from a back room where Wisconsin's Labrador was still trying to fruitlessly dig a hole in the concrete of the garage. `` Or, at least I am sure he will be in a day or two'' Wisconsin smiled.
New Hampshire and California steered the semi-comatose Colorado out of the door and towards the parked cars and Wisconsin shut the door behind her and looked at the remaining guests.
`` I do hope everyone is having a nice time?'' She nervously smiled at the guests, producing a small wheel of cheese from her skirt and nibbling furiously.
Conversation had died and Iowa now tried to restart it `` So Maine, Maryland, we were all so pleased to hear about you two tying the knot since the laws finally changed!''
Maine looked into his husbands eyes and smiled `` We've never been happier.'' Around the table congratulations broke out from most of the assembled guests.
At the far side, Alabama leaned across to Mississippi and whispered in a not quiet enough voice `` Fuckin' faggots, eh?''
Mississippi nodded and turned away, tears in his eyes and his lower lip quivering. Holding his voice so it would n't break and betray him `` Yeah, you said it.'' He looked back towards Alabama and sighed before whispering too quietly for anyone to hear `` You big silly.''
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[ WP ] Write the end of a story . No beginning , no middle , no background . Just the end .
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Zu stared down at the dog-eared notebook in his hand. The cover was missing, and the first page was covered in old, spilled ink. He ran his fingers over it, feeling the grooves in the paper from whatever had been written before the spill.
So much suffering over such a small thing.
All around him, the remnants of battle smoldered. As far as the eye could see, nothing moved but Zu, nothing made a sound but his skin on the paper.
At his feet lay Emtian, a short knife protruding obscenely from her breast. Her blood made his fingers stick together, despite his attempts to clean it off against the wet grass.
On her finger, a ring glinted in the dying sunlight.
It would be worth a pretty penny, but Zu left it where it was.
``'Til death,'' he said to her, twisting the matching ring on his finger.
Her body remained cold, and before long, Zu got to his feet and walked away, carrying the book with him.
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[ WP ] At 14 , every human gains the ability to transform into their spirit animal . Your noble family , comprised entirely of wolves , is n't happy with your transformation ...
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I have always been the odd one out in my family.
I was lonely because of my appearances, no one wanted to be my friend. I had long, stringy brown hair, thin and ragged no matter what I did with it. Ugly red freckles covered my face, and my eyebrows were almost nonexistent. My eyes were the worst part- One was sky blue, the other a weird yellow, an eye-color that I did n't even know was possible.
I was always the runt of the family, sickly and weak. My older brothers would snarl at me and bite, before trotting off laughing, Taunting me with their bushy white tails while I cowered and Whimpered in the snow, Hot tears spilling down my cheeks as I shivered, freezing.
No one in my family ever got sick, except for me, and I seemed to be sick all the time. I could never stop coughing and sneezing, and I hated the meat that I always watched my family tear apart so ravenously. They always seemed hungry. I would much rather read a book.
On the day of my 14th Birthday, I woke up shivering and pulled the scarce covers closer around me. I looked towards my door and saw a shadow under it, back and forth, back and forth. I heard my father's growl as his paws clacked against the smooth floor and I stood up, Pulling on a T-Shirt and some pants, before pulling on several more. I came out, bundled up with about 3 shirts, 5 sweaters, and a winter coat on, as well as 2 pairs of pants.
He growled at me to get on his back and I did, the strong white body of my father springing into action before I could get my balance. I felt afraid for the entire time I was on him until he stopped suddenly and I fell off into the snow. I looked around and I saw that I was in a clearing, surrounded by the pine trees of the forest. My father seemed to have disappeared but I knew my entire family was watching, waiting for my transformation.
I looked around, Sniveling in the cold before I felt a crushing weight on my bones and I felt like I was being forced into a jacket too small for me, crying out as hundreds of needles pricked through my skin. I curled up as I shrank and my fur grew, and then my face changed.
That was the worst part of the transformation... My face changing. I felt every part of my body strain against the wrongness of it as my ears collapsed into my skull and I lost my sight, feeling nothing but pain.
When I woke up I found myself shivering in the snow, half blind and my sense of smell nonexistent. I could hear barely anything and I bumped into my father's leg. I looked up and I could barely see his bristling body and snarling face... The last thing I remember is his paw coming at me, swinging towards me and looking ginormous.
I looked into the cup of water and felt my lungs lock up, heat crawling to my face as I wished I could cry. Two eyes, One a taunting yellow and the other sky blue, tiny and squinted. I had a tiny black nose and two tiny brown ears. All my fur was thin and ragged, and I could see pink skin through it.
When my brother walked in I did n't notice him until he had pounced on me, knocking me down flat and pinning me to the ground. My father walked in behind him, his lips drawn back in a snarl. `` You.... Are a terrible disappointment.''
My vision dimmed as he pounced and I felt a minor pain in my neck, a pool of red spreading out around me.
________________________________________________________________
I know this is a hard one to guess, She turned into a pine marten with thin fur and colored eyes, her eyes unable to open fully.
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[ WP ] All children unknowingly have a Guardian Angel , Animal Spirit , or some other form of Mythical creature that watches over and protects them ... you however , have something far more malevolent and powerful that protects you .
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Everyone, is born with a spirit link. Whether it be an animal, a mythological creature or an Ancient Greek deity, everyone is born with a link. Well... almost everyone.
The most common are animals. More specifically rabbits and dogs. No one knows why, but they are. The rarest anyone has seen is Zeus. He generally comes around once every generation. There have been many tests and research papers made about this subject, but no one can figure out how a spirit link is chosen, whether it ’ s a roll of dice, “ eeny meeny miny mo ” or something else, not a single person has even come close to a logical idea. Until me. I ’ m also the first person to be born without a spirit link. As far as the tests go at least. There are a few beings that no one has had a spirit link to so there aren ’ t any tests for them.
Since I was born, I had the ability or disorder, whatever you want to call it, to remember everything. I ’ m also the first person to be born with this. Anyway, I have such a good memory that I can remember being in the womb... and trust me, it isn ’ t anything like what people tell you. There isn ’ t any sloshing around in liquid, attached to your mother ’ s body. Instead, as far as I can tell from the briefing they gave me that no one else seems to remember, you sit in front of a council consisting of every single possible spirit link known to man and not. Then from there, the council discuss what traits you will have, a lot like the “ Sims ” and then the spirit links that wish to link with you based on your traits step forward and the rest of the council vote for the best fit. From what I heard there are normally only two who step forward so it ’ s also a pretty straight forward vote. For me, only one link stepped forward so they were guaranteed a link with me. Father Sky. He was the only person on the council who had never had a link before so apparently it was a pretty big deal. But here ’ s the thing, he never helped me or did anything to show he was there, and I ’ d never tried to reminisce back to the “ womb ”. And I only just thought to when good ol ’ Father Sky had decided to make an appearance.
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[ WP ] A tyrant monologues to the captive hero about how his way of doing things is necessary ... and convinces him he is right .
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The Chosen One looked upon the skeleton on the throne. The throne room was eerily quiet, and the great oak doors that separated it from the Great Hall of the castle had shut completely. The skeleton was rather amusingly seated, still clothed in regalia and holding a globus cruciger. The crown had slid down on the cranium, to a jaunty, almost rakish angle, and the skeleton slouched forward slightly, its mouth agape and slightly off-kilter, hanging on only by the jawbone being caught on the skull.
The Chosen One narrowed his eyes, expecting a trap. He was so focused on his surroundings that he nearly jumped when he heard a disembodied voice ask him, `` Expecting a final battle?''
`` Reveal yourself, and face judgements for your crimes!'' The Chosen Blade rang out as it left its scabbard, the hiss echoing around the empty room.
`` I'm afraid I am rather revealed, only I have n't moved for centuries.'' With a surprising wet cough, the skeleton shuddered violently and an eyeball rolled into the left socket. `` Only bit of flesh left. Keeps better inside my ribcage, given the clothes.'' The skeleton merely raised a hand to reattach its jaw, and rested its skull upon its curled fist in a creepily human manner. Its single eye looked out towards the hero, almost attaining the appearance of interest in its unblinking state. `` Come to kill the Mad King Idarod and bring a thousand years of peace to the land?''
The Hero regained his composure, and quickly pointed his sword at the throne. `` Indeed. Your end is upon you, villain!'' With a mighty shout, he struck the skeleton, sending the head and the arm scattering to the floor, where they promptly sat. The eye, unamused, looked up at the offending warrior as the head comically waggled as the jaw moved about in speech, its crown even more askew.
`` Quite done yet? I am a skeleton, after all, and your sword is n't what any self-respecting necromancer would call anathema to my ilk. But that's neither here nor there, seeing as I am not a necromancer. Would you be so kind as to sit on the dais? NOT the throne, mind you.''
The Chosen One, so unprepared for such formality, especially from the ultimate enemy of his quest, obeyed without so much as a peep of protest. `` Good,'' the skull said, unamused. `` Such childish tantrums do not befit a place such as this.'' The skeleton that remained on the throne gestured widely with the cross-topped orb.
`` I'm sorry, but your quest is rather futile in its nature, as, you see, I do n't really do much here. Most active I've been was 300 years before now, when I befriended a most curious little moth... I digress, but you understand. My point is, I really do n't do much of anything. Never actually held court as king, even. Died right there in that seat.
`` You see, when I held my coronation, I entered a pact with what gods there are ( I will address this curious statement in a moment ) and immediately was sacrificed to them upon sitting in that chair. As for what I mean for what gods there are, that is to say only the bad ones are real. Azagoth, Bel'thag, Romul, those gods exist. Oh, do they exist. But the good ones, Heliar, Icthalion, and Dwenna, were all invented by humans as a source of comfort. Nobody likes the idea that the gods do n't care or do n't even like them.''
The Chosen One looked at the skull in disbelief. Heliar, a lie? He, like his father, devoted his life to Heliar, witnessed his miracles, and took this quest in his name! All that, for imaginings and fairy tales?
`` Liar!'' roared the hero, who stood up quickly. The skull looked at him wearily. `` Yes, yes, liar,'' said the skull, almost with a yawn. `` Heliar/Icthalion/Dwenna is real, I have seen their miracles and lived in their service et cetera et cetera ad nauseum. I did n't like the fact that my flesh and blood was suddenly liquidated and offered to things that do n't like me either. But my sacrifice has kept them from destroying everything for all these years. Luckily, they were apathetic enough to leave my consciousness intact in this somewhat animated skeleton. I am unable to leave the throne, outside of the odd *barbaric dislocation* or two.
`` Sure, you can ignore what I'm saying all you like, but the fact remains that I have absolutely nothing to do with whatever happens outside of this room. All the monsters you fought to get in? Moved in over the years on their own. I'm sure some baron in your region has invoked my name to save himself from the block when the villagers overthrow him for high taxes. This happens every once in a while. A guy from a religious order embarks on an epic quest, only to find a more and more decrepit castle with a one eyed skeleton to tell him'go home, there's nothing here.' Look buddy, me just sitting here is what keeps the gods happy, and anything beyond them destroying everything utterly is outside of my control. The odd flood or drought, that's just them being bored. Our agreement forbids lasting destruction, or excessive death, so long as `` I sit the royal throne''. So, mister hero, could you do what your predecessors have done before you, and put my head back on my body - the hand does n't matter, it's too scattered now - and leave me be so the gods do n't erupt from the center of the earth to begin a new creation? I do n't know what happens after the'Chosen Ones' leave: I assume they do n't tell anyone and drink themselves to death, because this inane'Chosen One' rubbish continues to annoy me every thousand'peaceful' years.''
Sheepishly, the armored man, for he can no longer be called'Hero' or'Chosen One,' picked up the ancient skull and placed it back on the skeleton, gingerly adjusting the crown. The single eye looked at the broken soul before him, and the jaw moved one last time before the eye rolled back into the skull and the skeleton slumped forward once more: `` Cheer up, buddy. At least you're not a skeleton strapped to a chair.''
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