Split (3)

train · 273k rows

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[ WP ] `` End your life , and you shall be given the ability to change one thing that you think is wrong in the world . '' You agreed .	The wind on the rooftop buffeted my hair and coat. I looked out over the city - or what I could see of it from 15 stories. A permanent grey-brown fog settled over the tallest skyscrapers and from this rooftop it was close enough to see and taste. The ever present scent of garbage and exhaust was sickening even at this height. Fighting the wind I made my way to the edge. I looked down and I could see my target - Jeff's brand new Lexus parked at the curb. The trunk was open where he was stacking boxes of his things and traitorous Alex waited nearby staring at his phone. Briefly I wondered if some of me might get on him when I landed and the thought of staining her faux fur vest with my very real blood made me ghoulishly happy. I sat down on the edge of the building and let my feet dangle a bit into the rain gutter. I fished a clove cigarette out of my pocket so the ritual would now begin. I inhaled thick fragrant smoke and for a moment the back of my throat burned. It had been a while since I last performed this particular ritual. I took a sip from my Starbucks to soothe my throat and squinted into the distance. I mulled over my failure of a life - failed school, failed relationship, failed actor, writer, failed waiter....fail, fail, fail. The word was stamped in bright red letters across my life. The faces of my parents briefly passed in my thoughts. Two smiling middle aged people, still in love after 40 years of marriage. Certainly they would be sad at my death, but they had my sister and her kids. I wondered briefly if they would even tell the rest of the family how I died or why? Movement to my left startled me. A man in a leather jacket and jeans held his hands up to show he meant no harm. I turned away from him very angry my pre-suicide ritual had been interrupted. `` Hello.'' he said. It was n't a question and it was n't a welcome. His hello was a firm statement.'Hello. This is me and we are here.' it said in the authoritative baritone of a news anchorman. `` Hello'' I replied and considered changing my plan to the other side of the building but I did n't want to land in the trash. I wanted to land on Jeff's car. That was the poetry of it, after all. He did n't get the car without my help. But when his star finally began to rise and shine, he had n't repaid my support. He had thrown it back in my face and he and that cunt, Alex moved uptown to an apartment that should have been mine and Jeff's together. `` I know what you are thinking,'' he said. My initial fear that he was a police negotiator seemed to be realized. `` Oh, do you?'' I did n't look at him. That's when they get you. When you make eye contact. `` Mhm, and if I may make a suggestion?'' `` What?'' `` What if I were to make you an offer...?'' I cut him off before he could finish. `` Look, this is my thing, okay? I appreciate you have to be here because someone called you, but really. We both know this is a cry for help and I'm probably not really going to jump.'' `` Oh, I'm hoping you jump. I just want to give you a reason to jump. One last chance to make your life mean something.'' Now I had to look at him. What was this new negotiator tactic? `` Hoping, I jump? Really, officer. Reverse psychology? Are you new?'' He chuckled. `` I'm not new. As a matter of fact, I'm very old, but I have a proposition for you if you'll hear me out.'' I leaned back against the brick balustrade and looked at him full on for the first time. He was a good looking man. Not ruggedly or classically handsome, but attractive in an approachable sort of way. His hair was short and curled against peach hued skin. His eyes were a sort of deep, grey-blue that was almost violet. Like Elizabeth Taylor's eyes. His lips were raised slightly on one side in a sort of permanent half-smile. When he did smile, deep dimples creased his cheeks and for a second I wanted to kiss him. He bore my rude stare and then began to speak. `` I am an angel of sorts. I visit people like you. People who choose to end their life and I give them options.'' Oh, a Christian. Jesus they are even worse than a cop. `` And what option would that be, Reverend?'' I lit another cigarette - a plain, non clove cigarette and tried to blow the smoke in his face. `` I'm not a preacher. I'm not here to save your soul, I'm offering an exchange.'' `` Look, Mister. This is all very nice of you, but I really do n't need your god loves me bullshit, right now. I have a plan and I intend to carry it out.'' `` No, no. You misunderstand me. I'm counting on you going off this roof. Just hear me out.'' `` Whatever.'' I waved him on to continue. `` It's simple really. End your life and you shall be given the ability to change one thing that you think is wrong in the world. Just name it. World hunger, world peace, the price of cigarettes. Anything you consider cruel or unjust will be changed in exchange for your taking one small step off the side of this building.'' `` Alright, I'll play along. I choose world peace. Now, let's look and see if it happened, shall we?'' I flicked my thumb across my iphone and selected my CNN app. `` Look here. World still at war. Guess it does n't work.'' Angry now, I flicked my cigarette butt off the side of the building. `` That's not how it works, Anthony.'' Those dark blue eyes glittered slightly. `` You have to jump and die and then the world will be at peace. No more wars. No more killing for money or power or love. No more imaginary lines defining the identity of one nation from another. Literally,' nothing to kill or die for. A brotherhood of man' I believe that's the way Mr. Lennon worded it.'' `` You're telling me if I kill myself, the entire world will stop killing each other?'' `` That's what I'm saying.'' `` How will I know? I'll be dead.'' `` Oh, you'll know. Despite your atheistic bend, which we both know is a put on to make yourself more interesting, there is an afterlife. A very rich and active after life, in fact. We watch the progress of the living very carefully from there.'' `` Oh, do you?'' I did n't want to believe him. I mean the atheist thing he might have guessed. I never told him my name, but anyone who had seen me up here might have told him who I was. `` We do indeed. That's why I'm here. We've had our eye on you, Anthony. Since your little fling in college with Professor Maywood.'' He ticked my wrong doings off on his fingers. `` Your incestuous experiments with your cousin, Robert. Your love affair with liquor, methamphetamine and with heroin. I know right now you are wearing silk boxers Jeff got you for Christmas last year and you have a Prince Albert piercing healed over after it got infected because could n't wait to try it out.'' Agape? Aghast? Whatever the word, my jaw dropped with it. Dear god, this was like `` It's a Wonderful Life.'' I blinked. `` So... I'll know. I'll get to see the world at peace, for how long?'' He shrugged. `` Forever. If that is your wish. It can be as long as forever, as short as a minute.'' World peace forever. No more Taliban cutting people's heads off. No more bombing runs over the Middle East and the Ukraine. No more violent crime. Impossible! I shook my head. `` Fine. I'll jump.'' He clapped his hands together. `` Wonderful!'' `` But I want everyone to know it was me.'' His smile and those gorgeous dimples vanished. I stood and gestured with my lit cigarette. `` You heard me. I want the world to know it was me. Anthony Ashley Lindstrom, who brought about a millennium of world peace with this valiant sacrifice.'' Suck it, Jeff. How great did your recurring role on Chicago Fire look now compared to my bringing about global peace and unity?
[ WP ] Write a light , happy story in which everyone dies .	It was just Sara and I right now. Everyone else had gone home hours ago. Only the silent beeping of the heart machines interrupted the silence of the night. I'm used to those now. They do n't keep me up anymore. Instead, I spent the last hour near Sara just reminiscing on all the memories we made. Oh what good ol' days! I think my favorite was day we snuck out from our families at the lake and spent the afternoon alone. I realized I loved her that day and I wanted to marry her. We had our first kiss and a few other firsts as the sun set over the hillside in the distance. I remember the wedding dress and the dazzling smile beaming from her face. I remember the trip to Paris and the Eiffel tower. I remember breaking down in the side road and just laughing together that, in all places of the world, we broke down in Paris and had no idea where to go. I remember the scary jump we made as we moved across the country for her work. I remember the times we fought and how we always made it to the other side. There are just too many memories. As I got older, I'm glad I never forget the important ones. I could n't imagine a life continuing without her. Eighty-seven years is a long time to be married but it goes by so fast. Deep down inside, I think as she continues to fade and pass away, I will be very close behind.
[ WP ] The year is 2057 ... corporations now own whole nations . You now live in one of those nations , assuming the companies are ran mostly the same as they are today .	You know what still gets me? There's still a postal service. I mean... think about it: it's 2057, the AmeriCa Group is the government, public services are all private run, and there's still that fleet of little white boxes rolling by every house in the US, Monday and Thursday. What are they delivering, anyway? It's not like people send paper anymore, and everything else is sent through FedPS. My buddy, Dotnet, he says they're just surveillance drones. I says, `` Dotnet, why they need a mail truck to take holo of your front door when they got a squadron'a drones flying all over the place all the time?'' He says, `` They do n't, they just kept the postal service to make you feel that there's still some of the old government, somehow, even while Exxon and Walmart are still there.'' I do n't know. It's still stupid. ... What type of stupid question is that, of course I do n't mind that AmeriCa is running the place. Fuck democracy, long live $ 99 Coca-Colas! What are you, a boy scout -- gon na tattle on me to the Patriotism Board cuz I'm angsting like those civil liberties pukes in San Francisco? American Capital Group is the best fucking thing ever happened to this country: no taxes, free internet, inflation is n't a thing anymore -- what are you gon na learn in some high school, lit'rature? Ha, I can read enough. Why? Do you not like a country run by AmeriCa? Yeah... whatever. Oh, you hear about that quarterback for the... yeah, yeah... that guy. They found him splattered on the sidewalk next to his hotel; roid-rage and he jumped out a window. No, no, apparently it was some new stuff that people do n't juice with yet, League did n't even know about it, yet.
[ WP ] Two immortal humans without any other superpowers fight each other . Why ? The winner gains mortality .	Autumn is coming to an end. The wind from the open window feels cold on the bare flesh. But the fluids is boiling. Fever. Blisters everywhere He can see half a face in the mirror. The nose is gone, the cheek bone cuts through curls of burned skin. There are dental caries at the back of his molars. Seems like more than a few teeths are missing. He lies down on the bed. It feels like he's losing his mind, literally, as if brain runs from his head, down on the rough floorpanels below. A train is disappearing in the distance. Then there is screaming. He giggles. It sounds strange when one cheek is missing. -- - He sees his old acquainted and hour earlier. He is standing down on the street, looking directly up at him. The man on the street moves his finger across the throat. He shakes his head as answer. Wont work. No matter what bright idea he's got. The man on the street points at something. He have to open the window and lean out. A massive Steamroller is parked at the end of the street. Roadworks. Oh no you dont.. But the man nods with a odd smile. He takes on his shoes and jacket. When he opens the door he hesitate. Him or me? But he already know the answer. He knows the man on the street. Just likes he knows the street. The city. The country. No. He bother no more. This World interest him no more, those people, always the same, they think they evolve, are getting smarter, Look at me when I install my 63 inch TV, look at me and tremble, but they are trapped like rats in a wheel of monotony and the world around them follows its own rhythm and they laugh, these mortal beings, laugh hysterical when the world change color. And it always does.. There was a time he thought that the world would become wonderful if he just waited twentyfive years. Or hundred He always ended up disappointed. He discovered that all what is beautiful slowly fall apart, gone and away and it was gray, gray, it was always gray, flowers that wither and die, beautiful people who rots away, wrinkled bags of leather and a stench of their periodontal gums and grey dust. And the grey birds, the crows, ravens and jays, they peck until the nightingales is left as pieces. And the nights becomes silent. Boredom is a unstoppable tidal wave of dark grey. Who can get excited after a thousand years? Because a new Iphone? A new dental cleaning? Eternity. Its all just fucking depressing. `` Do not worry my friend, I'll take the hassle. You just drive. Yes, yes, you know me, it does not bother me in the least. You drive. I do the flattening.'' He sits in the steamrollers cab. He is surprised how noisy the engine is. '' Hit it'' Now. Fuck you... HIT IT! And he hits it. First there is laughter through the engines roar. Then a crack. Loud and clear. But that is all. There is no resistance, no bump. The Roller runs a dozen feets as if the ground beneath it is completely flat. Which it probably is. He jumps out of the driver's seat and can see a huge lake of blood on the ground. He looks no closer and walks hastely from the scene. He notice a piece of head with longish hair on a car's windscreen - he grabs the hair with two fingers and throws it under the car. The car has a child seat -- - He grabs his shotgun as soon as he is back in his apartment. Puts the barrels in his mouth. Is it really now? And he feels the heat, like molten lead being thrown on his face - his ear is wrested of - he is absolutely sure he feels it, his head drawn out like red haze, sparks drops and smoke. Incisors are wedged into the wall. A smell of burned hair and bacon. Is he dead now. Is it lights out....? The screaming outside is silent now. He can only speculate what strange sight they are witnessing out there. `` It is....is it..alive?'' Someone is calling for a ambulance. Then sirens. He laughs. The paramedics will never forget this night.
[ WP ] Humans are an intergalactic species , but also pacifist in their natural state . Earth is created in an attempt to create violent humans to face a new threat .	Jones' hair was grey at the tips. After four hundred years, it was too early. The glow of his planet suspended in the air was dancing over his young lips. they spread open in a slight gasp when he saw the evacuation. hundreds over a few hours leaving that mountain, yet hundreds left behind. It was almost too easy. Starve them, yet show them how others can live so grandiose. It was his motto, really. The science had been proven for as long as anyone knew, or remembered. Show them the inequality, let them feel it every day; suspend the belief that they can change their station. That sandy sector had proved to be no challenge, indeed it had been that way well before he was born. Others on the blue ball were returning to their natural state. He knew it could not be permitted. Endless images were thrust into the wealthier parts of the sphere of blood, weapons, sex, ego's that oozed with a neurotic sense of self-worth. Their had to be constant reminders of the beings inadequacies, endless visuals to keep them uncertain, questioning and buying the self-doubt. Still, some were not behaving. Jones pushed a button on his collar and the room whizzed. The blue orb expanded and zoomed to a green patch on the northern hemisphere. His eyes danced, subdued in the glow. Riots, fuel stations on fire, shootings, disrespect of authority; yes, he could culture this. It was more good work in the region than he had seen in a while. Of course there were the constant, petty small squabbles, one or two dead here, but never so much of a response. This breeds hate, Jones thought. His superiors would be pleased.
[ WP ] Immortality , Invincibility , or Normality	`` Invincible, I want to be invincible'' was all the 18 year old could think about. All his life he had been bully, been picked on, abused, had everything he held dear thrown in the mud and stomped on. Now the chance to be immovable, unphased, and undeterred in this world was within his grasp. Kal believed, he was finally ready. He walked into the newly refurbished hospital redesigned to assist those in making the choices and help for an easy transition. The room seemed quaint and quiet, slightly eerie like being the last one in an empty library. The only person there was a kind old looking man writing down the names of those who chose and what they chose. He was the keeper of the lists, an immortal. He looked up from his book to see the next patient to undergo an irreversible procedure. His kind eyes reminded Kal of his grandfather a man who was born before the choice. Those eyes could tell a lot of stories, not all of them good and not all of them bad. `` Welcome, what can I do for you? '' The old man inquired. `` I'd lllike to choose, please sir, kind sir. I wwwant to choose. '' `` So... What would you like to be? '' `` Invincible sir'' `` Now why is that? You will not be able to feel a thing, life will feel as though you were in a constant dream, seemingly real but not real. If you chose Immortality you could experience life to all ends and all possibilities. Although, you would have to bear witness to every one of your friends dying. But if you chose a normal life, you could certainly live a happy one. '' `` I want to be a Superhero. '' What should've been a shout, a repeated mantra to Kal seemed like a vain attempt to hold onto his past. As though it were his past choosing his future and not himself. `` My boy, there are tons of heroes and not all of them invincible. There are many invincible heroes but they too have their flaws, their weak points. Do you know a Heroes weakness is my boy? '' `` Nnnnnooo'' Kal stammered. `` Their unseen heart, the hero's soul is their one weak point. It's what brings them all down, not slings and not arrows but the convictions in their heart. When those fail, they will fall from the skies. If your heart is not strong, that which gives you life inside and out... it will die when you need it the most. My condolences to those that do but I'm not here to manipulate you to one choice or another... merely guide you to make the best one for yourself. You're a smart lad, I'm sure you'll make the right choice. '' `` Make me Invincible, please... I do n't want to be weak'' `` Before I do, I must ask your name... '' `` Kal, Kal Ellison, my parents named me after a Superhero named Superman. My Grandparents were fans of the character and liked the name Kal. Superhero comics are old-fashion these days... but I miss them, both my grandparents and the superheroes. '' `` Alright Kal, your door is the second one on the right...'' `` Thank you... '' Kal walked through the second door on the right, inside were doctors in uniform, lab coats, scrubs, and masks. They sat him down and told him one last thing before they injected him with the serum. `` You know why a lot of invincibles kill themselves? '' Kal shook his head. `` The serum we inject you with, in order to become invincible you must experience the greatest pain that your life will never withstand. Once you recover, nothing can hurt you. Your body and mind will withstand anything it could ever face. '' The fear slowly seeped into Kal's mind... how could this be he thought? Could he take it? Was his heart strong enough? It was too late to choose a different path. He had to hold on, hold tight, and stay... just stay here on this earth. `` Okay'' was all he could muster. The final words Kal heard were... `` What's your greatest fear Kal? '' The old man writing down the names in the book of those who choose sighed. Kal would not be Kal when he awoke, he might never remember who he was. This is why the old man choose immortality, to look after those who came through those doors. He knew those Invincibles who survived and he met Normal people who chose the exit sign and in return for being grateful for their own life were rewarded with that which makes them human. Humanity has fallen he pondered. We either become God and watch the world fall apart or we become the Devil and make our desires realized. He closed his book for the night. He turned off the lights that lit his little room with the little hallway of doors. But just before he left for the night, before he put his hand on the door, before he went on his evening routine, he paused, he stopped, and prayed. Prayed for the life of the young boy and all those who choose and he hoped God, the only person older than himself would listen.
[ WP ] As a child , your parents kept you from seeing the doctor , even when you were sick . As an adult , you decide to go to your first doctors appointment . As the doctor draws your blood , he is horrified to discover that it is green .	My parents name were Fran and Don. Fran always wore turquoise dresses accentuated by pearl necklaces, while Don always wore green turtlenecks with a pair of slacks. They did n't believe in modern medicine and as a matter of fact they considered it a sin. Well when I moved out at age thirty six, I was feeling rather sick. I went to the doc and took off my sock. He pulled blood from my foot and in a vial he did put. He inhaled and said `` oh my this is n't red!''. Turns out it was green, at least that's how it seemed. And the story of Fran and Don went anon and anon.
[ WP ] 2021 : Hell invades Earth ; 2022 : Earth invades Hell .	Men have for ages endured a fascination, disdain, fear or general obsession with hell. It was the faithful though who truly believed in its existence- some would be caught up in the excitement of some passing fervor, but most men did n't expect to ever have any contact with this'hell', and certainly did n't expect hell to come knocking. While I can not at this time suppose a motive for the prince of lies to so suddenly mobilize the legions of the damned, I can, however, speak to its utter strangeness, and the devastation left in its wake. In hindsight, a company named Apollyon ought to have aroused some suspicion; alas, as few knew greek, and the meaning of Apollyon, ( a medieval greek translation for'destroyer' attributed to Satan ) a banking leviathan hiding behind less conspicuous shell corporations aroused no suspicion. While most of us were preoccupied with the myopic affairs of day to day life, Mr. Morning-Star stretched his hands to slowly throttle the cliche servants of the Lord of darkness: those being politicians, bankers, criminals, and any other disciplines traditionally associated with wickedness. Ironically, many who had been accused consorting with the devil only now found themselves under his corrupting influence. So, long story short the devil became a business tycoon, and it was the allure of cheap, mass produced goods he invaded with. ( Sorry would right more but sleepy asf )
[ WP ] Upon dying , you , a serial killer , are sentenced to experience the lives of all those that you killed .	Irony? Amusement? Or just tragedy? Regardless, fate truly has a sense of humor. My last target was the better killer, so I suppose it's only fair I end up being the one lying in my own blood. But this is strange, should n't I be seeing some kind of light now? Or spend an eternity in flames? What am I doing in the kitchen? The smell of roast turkey on a Thanksgiving eve, never failed to nauseate me, yet I somehow feel this odd sense of joy, I am excited to have family members over.. Strange, I do n't know anything about my family. Well now that dinner is almost done cooking, I should get ready myself. I head upstairs, enter the room, and put on my fanciest... dress? A yellow summer dress, with a floral pattern- odd choice for an evening, but I did n't care. Come to think of it why would I, a middle-aged man who's entire life was dedicated to murder, be putting on a suspiciously familiar yellow dress. Wait, what was that noise? A broken vase? Are the youngsters here already? Better hurry up and go greet them. I'm going down the stairs, but I do n't hear anyone strangely enough. I'm starting to feel unnerved. What's that?! Another broken vase... Need to check it out before I completely lose it. I'm entering the living room, one that looks all too familiar. Those two vases, I recognize them from somewhere... Wait a second. `` Tick tock, your time is up'' I hear a voice from behind me say. The bastard, that's my quote! I'm surprised I'm able to turn around with how frozen every limb in my body seems to be. As I look right at my executioner's face, I felt like my whole world turned upside down. That's me! Why am I killing myself?! Before I could finish the thought I felt the knife thrust my heart, the pain, I ca n't think, I ca n't react, I ca n't do anything but lie on the floor as I feel my breaths becoming shorter. `` Why did n't you even put up a fight? ``, the assassin said as he gave me this frown of disappointment before he ran away. That was definitely me. The irony continues as I realize I'm reliving the last moments of my first victim's death, I did n't think she felt much after I stabbed her heart, but I was wrong. So very wrong. She was thinking about her family whom she has n't seen in ages. She was a doctor who took part in Doctor's Without Borders for a few years before coming back home not so long ago. She invited everyone for one big Thanksgiving dinner. Her mother had cancer and it was only a matter of time before she never sees her again. It was also her cousin's birthday and she got her a signed copy of her favorite artist's CD, she was so looking forward to giving it to her. Why am I feeling these things? `` Sandra!'' I heard a scream from the other side of the room, they're here at the worst time. The cousin, why did she come here first. Her scream, so loud, so horrifying. Now everyone is here, the look on their faces.. Mother, she's having a heart attack! No, no, make it stop.. Make it stop. Blackness, it's finally over. They were n't lying when they said that there are some things worse than death... but why am I still here? Why am I in this room... the very same room I killed.. No.. not again, not again! Off-Topic: My first WP! Was pretty fun to write. Sorry for my poor English since it's only my second language, and I've never written many stories before. Feel free to help me improve!
[ WP ] Everyone has a number on their chest showing how many people they will kill in the next month . Yours just changed from 1 to 3 million .	Wake up, struggling to get out of bed. I've never killed anyone before, and even just having the number 1 on my chest freaked me out. It was this big blocked number. I wonder how I'll do it. I wonder who it'll be. My immediate family knew, but no one else. Anyways, apparently I am going to kill 1 person this month. I continue my morning routine. Walk slowly to the kitchen, eat some cereal, read the paper. Go to the washroom, take a shower. Wait. Walking past the mirror into the shower, I notice something. Why did my number get so much smaller? I walk back to the mirror and see... there it is. I count the zeros. 6. 6 zeros. That's 1 million. But... there's a 3 at the front. Oh no. How could this have happened? As I stand in shock, realising and questioning what could have caused this to happen, I hear the sound of a pistol cocking. `` Follow me, do n't scream, and if you try to run both your kneecaps flying out.'' So I follow, scared shitless, down into a warehouse, where my capture explains the plan of how I'm the guy destined to start world war 3.
[ WP ] A game of Russian roulette between two people . Describe it from the perspective of the bullet .	It was a Thursday, or at least that's what Henry thought it was. In truth, neither he nor his dozens of siblings had any understanding of what made a day `` Thurs,'' or what resulted in a day being significantly more `` Satur'' than the rest of them. To make things easier, they all simply referred to every new shift from light to dark as `` Thursday.'' They were manufactured on a Thursday, apparently from a distant land called `` Sierra Bullets,'' which had been stamped across the ceiling of their cardboard home. Henry was a.357 caliber, just as the rest of his numerous siblings. They ’ d all grown up together under the same branded roof, rolling and shuffling as the house traveled from place to place. Henry never quite felt as though he belonged. He was a hollow point, a manufacturing error that resulted in him being placed into the wrong container. The others treated him the same, pretended he was one of their own, yet he always knew—in the back of his mind—that they were just pretending. Every Thursday before today had been the same. Wake up early, watch as the others rolled and shuffled around as the house moved from place to place, then go to bed. Henry would stare at them, try his best to pretend he too enjoyed the repetition. In truth, Henry always wanted more. He wanted to see the world, to experience something other than the four corners of the dark, cardboard container. He wanted to live his life. He ’ d once overheard a deep voice outside the box talk of joining something called the “ Peace Corps, ” which he had wanted to try ever since. Yet every new day, every continual Thursday, nothing ever changed. Thursday morning was different. Henry awoke earlier than usual, startled into awareness by a crunch just below his base. A massive, pale creature grasped at his siblings, lifting and dropping them as if searching for something. They were screaming as they fell, bouncing hard and rolling into place as they landed. The beast had five heads—one smaller and further from the others—with sharp, clear blades on the tips of each. It used its heads to pick at his brothers and sisters, to sort through them as if grooming for perfection. Henry tried to roll backwards, tried to bury himself underneath the others for safety. The beast grabbed him. Henry had never been fond of the idea of flight. He always found himself much more comfortable when placed flush against the floor, his actions entirely at his own control. He ’ d never actually flown before, but knew himself well enough to make the assumption that it would be less than enjoyable. As it turned out, he had been entirely correct about the idea of flight. It was rather unpleasant, especially when that flight was via the hand of a towering creature. The beast carried him upwards and out of his home, the smaller head rubbing its soft underbelly along the small, hollow dip on his head as if studying it. He tried to shift and roll, as he ’ d done his entire life with his brothers, yet was unable to move even the slightest. He stared down at his box, watching as it grew smaller and smaller until he could barely make out the individual outlines of his siblings. The beast then shoved him into a tiny, metal circle, and slammed him into darkness. Henry had never before been in a room so dark. Even when the Thursday light had vanished and the darkness of Thursday had come, there had always been at least a dim, orange glow above them. Today, however, there was nothing but black, nothing but the cold darkness that surrounded him. “ Are you sure we should do this? ” said a voice from next to Henry. He tried to look around for its source, yet saw only blackness. “ Don ’ t be a pussy, ” said another. Two beasts were talking. “ You ’ re going first, ” said the first. Henry felt himself become weightless followed by a sharp clicking sound, as if he were spinning. It seemed eerily familiar, like he were rolling around with his siblings back at home, except now at a much higher speed and entirely alone. “ Fine, ” said the second voice, the clicking sound abruptly stopping as Henry felt his body become incredibly heavy for a moment. There was a click. “ Oh fuck me, ” said the same voice. “ Fuck me, fuck me. You ’ re up. ” Henry felt himself shift position against his control, as if being carried and passed to the other beast. There was another click. “ Jesus fuck, what the hell, ” said the first voice. Again Henry had his position shifted. A third click. “ What? No, come on. God dammit, ” said the same voice. “ You ’ re up, fucker, ” said the first. Henry felt himself being passed once again. He could now see a bright light just ahead of his hollowed point. One of the beasts came into view, then opened up its mouth and ate the light. There was a tremendous crack. The world around Henry become a blur as his base erupted outward. Before he understood what was happening, he felt his body smash into a softer surface, exploding through it and back out into the light. He ’ d seen outside one time before, when they ’ d accidentally left the roof to his home open at the Sierra Bullet warehouse. Everything had been so lush and green, a vast blue pool extending infinitely directly over his head. He always dreamt of it before heading to bed on Thursday night. He knew where he was the second the light restored his vision: the bright, blue pool overhead, the emerald green of the world below him. He was flying, spiraling out of his control, and loved it. Still, he could n't help but wonder why he had n't realized how much more red the world actually was.
[ CW ] Write a story where the last line is `` A leaf fell . ''	She hated autumn. She loathed the ending of warm summer days that she would spend feeling the bright grass breathe under her palms. The sun radiating against her soft skin, every stroke of the gust sending her warm chills. The silent wind tugging softly at her amber hair. She never chose to love the summer more than autumn. Autumn's icy wind cut into her skin, and the cloudy days and endless nights left her alone. Just like the trees, Autumn left the her bare, cold, and naked. Just like summer, Autumn would come and change her warm days. Summer would radiate with light but no matter how wide the rays of love would stretch, summer could n't change Autumns nature. That is why they can never belong together. The girl looked out at the few last leaves clinging to the shriveled trees. She heard her mother beckoning her. `` You fathers here.'' The girl hugs her mother tightly, basking in her warmth for as long as she could. As she descended the stairs and greets her father she could barley hold back tears. The girl looks out at her mother and to the trees, as her father begins to start the car. Summer was over. As the mother looked at the road long after the car had disappeared, a leaf fell.
[ WP ] A dying man attempts to make his last words profound and meaningful , but encounters difficulties in achieving this .	I felt the pressure of the life that surrounded me like I was a pimple on the nose of Jesus Christ. A large, pale pimple that nagged like an overly attached mother. A menacing pimple that distracted the believers from His Word. A lonely pimple that got looks but nobody ever wanted to say anything to it or about it. Lying on my hospital bed, friends and family rested their soliciting hands on both sides of my body like Jesus' fingers pressing down on me. I felt my impending doom from their warmth and livelihood. I was trying to focus on saying goodbye to my loved ones, on giving my grandchildren one last profound piece of advice to remember me by, but the pressure on my body turned into anger in my mind and as I began to pop my lid I managed to release my final words alongside of the ejection of my bodily fluids, `` Stop fucking touching me!''
[ WP ] Its 2am in Washington DC and Bill has the night shift at the Gas-n-Go . The President comes in and buys a six pack , a bag of Doritos and a pack of cigarettes . He is by himself .	A bell chimes, jolting Bill back to reality. As the cobwebs fade, bleary eyed he takes in the latest intruder that plucked him out of his day dreams and back to the monotony of his life. First thing that came into focus were the shoes black and glistening with a high polish. Bill's eyes traced the perfect seam up the trouser leg and gawped half wondering if he was still asleep. There stopped just inside the doorway was the president of the United States the dregs of a cigarette dangling from his mouth, rolling up blood stained sleeves with bloodstained hands. Sleeves up, he throws the cigarette butt to the ground and steps on it without missing a beat as he makes his way to the beer fridge. Bill does n't even think to press the emergency button to call for help. Before he can get his thoughts together The President plonks a six pack of beer on the counter along side a Ben Franklin, grabs a pack of cheese Doritos and starts casually munching. Four chips later he turns back to Bill looks him in the eye taps the note, the tip of his finger no longer coated in blood but stained orange. 'This is where you quit staring and get me my change son' 'Yes Sir! Sorry Sir. Is everything ok Sir' 'Does this look ok to you? Now get me a packet of fucking cigarettes, shut the fuck up and I'll be on my way' Next day Bill checked the news and there he was in the white house all smiles greeting visiting dignitaries. Everybody he told thought he was crazy. Over the next few weeks in shop, with the day dreams getting worse and not a president in sight he starts to wonder if he is actually losing it.
[ WP ] You work at a special bank that allows people to trade one year of their life span for $ 100,000 . People can visit this bank as many times as they want .	There was another one today. I thought I had gotten over feeling pity for these people. Such greed and short-sightedness. Such narrow-minded, instant-gratification blood-suckers. They come here, grubby hands outreached, urgent to receive their filthy money in exchange for one less year of life. Some of them present an excellent argument that life is only as good as the memorable moments, and you can make a lot of them with $ 100,000. Why spend a decade of bland, unmemorable laboring in a bland, unmemorable job saving every penny when you can walk in here, willfully endure the torture of the machine, and walk away with just as much money. I remember the first days of business, the lines going around several blocks, people thinking it was free money. Then the videos of the process came out and the preachers set up projectors showing those in line what they're going to experience and proclaiming this act as literally selling their souls to the devil or Satan or whatever. Business slowed down a lot after that. Now it is mostly regulars. High school rejects that blow it all on drugs and cars that they promptly wreck. Failed businessmen willing to sacrifice themselves to keep the bill-collectors at bay. Elderly folks that threw their money away at the casino and realized they still want to give their grandkids gifts for Christmas. It all stopped being anything but more lambs to the slaughter. And yet, when that high pitched squeal goes off and the machine states that it is unable to extract, I can not stop this pang in my gut. That person will be dead within a year, usually from their own hubris. Today was different, though. The young lady that sat at the machine looked perfectly healthy, young, and full of life. The machine has never been wrong, it ca n't be. Still, the manager told her some lie about how one in every hundred are incompatible, blah, blah, blah. She got the'Runner Up Prize', which amounts to little more than a few discount loans and coupons that are useless to someone with less than a year to live. I really felt pity for her. I had to do something. That is why I am giving a year of my life to see that the rest of hers is worth remembering.
[ WP ] You accidentally call the FBI in place for a pizza shop and attempt to order your favourite pizza with toppings . Coincidentally , the FBI uses pizza language as a means of code .	It's 8 pm and I am feeling the need for something to eat. My old chevy truck is acting up and I don ’ t feel like risking the battery dying again. Delivery sounds best, I tell myself, nodding my head and picking up the phone to call Pizza Central. The phone is garbled at first, but I make out `` what can I do for you today?'' `` Yeah, uh, I'd like the thin crust, anchovy, and pepperoni please.'' `` Anchovy? Really?'' Hey man, do n't be criticizing my life choices. `` Yes, anchovy. You still have that right?'' `` Oh, yeah, yeah... uh, sorry. Just not a common topping right now.'' I assume that this must be some new kid or someone tweaked out, as I ’ m in a lower income area. No big deal, just need my damn pizza. `` And I want a 2 liter pepsi with that.'' There's a silence on the phone, then a `` see you in 30 minutes.'' `` But what is the tot-'' click What a rude asshole, I think. But it does n't matter. My food will be there soon. 30 minutes he said. Too bad I did n't get the stupid kid's name to report later in a customer complaint. I sit on the couch and pop up some Netflix to pass the time. 25 minutes pass, and I hear the crash of my kitchen window. I run in to find the place has been filled with teargas. Covering my mouth, I sprint outside in hopes of evading my assailant, only to find three nondescript cars parked in my driveway, blocking my quickest escape. A man, dressed in casual black and sunglasses, exits the vehicle, and calmly walks up to me, and asks, `` Well, where is the target?'' `` All clear!'' chimes out of the house, presumably by whoever rudely broke the window. `` I... I just wanted some pizza?'' `` You've got to be fucking kidding me. You just happened to call us, and just happened to'order' the sausage and pepperoni thin crust?'' `` Uh....yeah? See? This is my phone number right?'' I pull out my phone and show the screen to him. A few moments pass and the neutral face begins to twist in disgust. `` You switched the area code and the first three of the local numbers, dumbass. Learn to dial properly. Oh well.'' He turns around, and returns to his car visibly shaking in anger. Someone bumps me from behind, jogging back to join the mysterious man. I just stare confounded as I watch the cars screech out of the parking lot and careen down the highway. Maybe I should check a phonebook next time. ( This is my first attempt to post here. Feedback greatly welcomed. )
[ WP ] You literally wake up with the person of your dreams next to you ... and your real partner on your other side .	`` ZZZZzzzz.... urgh'' `` Morning'' says a familiar voice. I take a long deep breath in as I wake and turn over to see my wife sat up on the bed wearing a dressing gown with a towl around her hair and a smile on her face. I smile and utter my first groggy words for the day. `` Hi. You had a shower already?'' `` I'm gon na make breakfast once you two are up.'' She says. The `` two'' she refers to are me and the woman I was just snuggled up to. My girlfriend. She and my wife had taken me out yesterday for my birthday, we had a great day out in the daylight hours and then enjoyed a quiet night in after it got dark. Just the three of us. It all felt very normal, I think this kind of set up always has for us. When we first met, my wife had a friend-with-benefits thing going on and did n't want to just give that up over a new relationship so I agreed to be casual with her at the start for her sake. Fast forward 15 years and lo and behold, we're not casual anymore and I'm the one with another significant other. One who, herself has a husband. Nice guy, I hang out with him 1 on 1 every so often and stay a night or two at theirs every week. Currently, the three of us are all lying on top of the bed. We never even made it under the covers, passing out fully clothed after the previous evening. My wife is the first to get up to go downstairs. I feel her hand move from the top of my head. I follow her off of the bed and move toward the bathroom. I turn back to see my girlfriend stiring in bed, about to wake up. My wife notices from the other doorway and move back through the room, toward me. I wrap my arms around her and she gives me a big smooch. Then she proceeds to wipe her lipstick off my cheek ( that stuff really does last 12 hours. Huh ). `` Love ya'' I whisper. She squeezes a little. `` Love you too'' she says. `` Pancakes for breakfast?'' `` We'll come downstairs in a bit.'' I say looking back at my beautiful girlfriend waking up and seeing us. I think to myself, I love my life.
[ WP ] A technologically advanced civilization fight against a magically advanced civilization . Write their strategy discussions of one or both sides .	The metal door slid open before the General as he rushed towards the conference room where the special meeting took place. As he entered the room all were looking at him with angry faces. Him being late for the meeting for them was a sign of incompetence. These people held him responsible for this mess of a war, because the enemy they've met surprised them with seemingly impossible feats that in their opinion should have been known to them from preliminary intelligence he should have provided. `` Excuse me, mister president, chief of staff, generals. I was held by a final debriefing in my headquarters, to make sure I had the latest intel.'' The general sat in his chair among raging officers that scolded him with their gazes. `` You have many answers to give general Foresighn.'' The president said. `` And you better start giving them now. I trust you understand the gravity of the situation, and the problem our men are facing, and how unprepared we were for it.'' His lips, voice and eyes told what he thought of the commander of the intelligence corps and its function in the war. The general wanted to object, but he stopped himself, there is no benefit in that, not now. `` For the first question then: What the hell are we facing?'' `` This civilization we encountered seems quite primitive at a first glance. I stand by our analytics that says that these people are in the pre-industrial age in terms of technology.'' `` Stand by this?'' General Grover, head of the army slammed his fist on the table and rose from his seat. `` My men are getting slaughtered out there, they talk about fire balls, sudden blizzards and monsters that seem to be made of rocks. This is no primitive civilization!'' `` Why do you still think this way, General?'' the president calmed the raging officer with his hand and asked. `` Because all of the characteristics of that are there. They have primitive building technics and architecture; they mine mostly Iron, copper and stone; they are reliant on wood as the main energy source; they do not use or manufacture fire arms; they do not use any kind of engine, and do not utilize electricity, at least in the terms of utility for powering equipment. They are by the very definition of the word, a pre-industrial age civilization, and I stand by that, even now our analysis comes up with the same conclusion.'' Foresighn said. `` But there is more to them than Technology. If you will look over here…'' The general pulled a small ball from his pocket and placed in on the table, the ball immediately illuminated the room with a picture of several charts. `` You see here the measurement of energy spikes measured from the start of our invasion. These spikes correlated with the strange events reported on the battle field, both in place and intensity. The strange thing is that these spikes seem to emanate from nowhere, as if the energy powering the blizzard is materializing from thin air. We can not explain this phenomenon yet, but we must assume that it is caused by something. The only clue to that is what we call the small event, these are small spikes in energy that happen alongside or just before the bigger ones, and we suspect these trigger the seemingly supernatural events. Here you see the aerial photo of the first battle of war.'' The picture of the hologram shifts to show a giant patch of land covered with ally troops, smaller numbers of enemy infantry and cavalry that are armed with swords and lances, ant giant orbs of blistering fire that rains from the sky. `` The big event is quite apparent, but with it the a smaller event is recorded, and is located right here.'' The general pointed at a place on the image and it zoomed on a figure that stands with its hands trenched to the sides holding a strange stick in the left one. `` This is the exact spot of the small event, and it is a pattern that there's a smaller event located at a spot of these kinds of troops and several moments later a big event occurs, therefore we assume that these robed people trigger the bigger events.'' `` How do they do that without machines, how do they do it simply by the power of one individual?'' `` My people can not explain this. As I have said, we do not know how they generate this energy, all we know is that these people do it.'' Foresighn said and pointed on the highlighted figure. `` And they should become the targets of our efforts.'' The chanting intensified around the Witch king as he casted his seeing spell. The orb rose from its stand and shined in a pale light. He could n't see a thing at first, but soon spots in the shining orb materialized into a form of one of the sky people. He looked much like one of the mundane folk, without any aura of magic, but he rides the metal monster that was shrieking across the heavens above the tower in an impossible speed. The Witch king stopped the ritual, the orb dimmed and returned to its pedestal, he saw what he needed to see. After several moments he left the hall and headed to his throne. `` All hail the king!'' The guard declared as the witch king walked across the great hall and up the stairs to his throne. `` Heed me my good men'' He said and turned to his crowd, a moot of the high mage lords of his lands. `` I have been to the hall of seeing and witnessed the true nature of our enemy! They are completely devoid of magic, no touch of the arcane whatsoever!'' The hall filled with a humming sound of dozen voices speaking in amazement. `` We were all amazed with the sky people!'' The king continued. `` They descended from the heavens and rained bolts of led and fire vessels that can match our own magic. They've mastered carriages that ride without a horse and flying beasts made of metal. I do not yet know what powers their machines, and that cost us great deal of lives and effort to halt, but they are simpletons and as such can not comprehend our command of the elements. That is our power!''
[ WP ] You wake up with silicone breasts . You are male . Try to figure out what happened last night .	Boobs. How wonderful are they? My hands played with them. I was in the dreamy state, awkwardly swirling my hands around the nipple area. I had boobs. How convenient! I don ’ t need a women anymore. I chuckled. You know the feeling when you realize you had a crazy dream and think what the fuck happend? I did that, ashamed of myself. I opened my eyes but I could not see the poster hanging across my bed. Instead a huge mountain hid the view. I had breasts. It took me a second to realize I had breasts. Fucking breasts. I screamed. They were huge. Like Pamela Anderson- Kate Upton huge. My wife was not in the bed. I screamed for her. No response. Things were moved. Glass pieces from the window strewn around the carpet on the floor. Oh boy, I was confused. Tring Tring. FaceTime call from my wife I answered it. “ Hello Dan! ” said a guy with a clown mask holding his face close to the camera. It was not my wife. I shouted “ Who the fuck are you? Where is my wife? ” “ Oh you want to see your wife? Here is she. He backed away from the phone camera and showed my wife. Naked as fuck. He held her hair. My wife seemed to be drugged or exhausted. “ Look at your husband. He has bigger breasts than you ” said the clown She turned to the camera with blood on her jaws and tears on her eyes. “ Please don ’ t do anything. Please. Please stop ” I said. “ Don ’ t scream like a bitch, now that you have breasts ” the clown said and laughed “ What do you want? What do you want? Please leave her. ” I asked “ Follow what I say. Or I ’ m going to kill your wife. You need to be on the call. I want to see you all the time. No cops. No monkey business. ” “ What do you want me to do? ” “ Wear your wife ’ s clothes ” I wore a female top and a jean. I tried my best to choose a male looking t-shirt but I could not push back my new breasts. It was rigid. I was crying. My whole life seemed to erode away. I was willing to do anything he wants. My wife was my priority. I loved her so much. “ What do you want to me to do? ” I asked “ Shut up. Just do what I say. Wear an earphone. ” said the clown “ It ’ s in the cupboard. Let me take it ” I said Before opening the cupboard. I purposefully dropped the phone on the floor. Before taking the phone, I quickly opened the cupboard and to my relief my wife ’ s phone was there. I placed it inside the jean ’ s pocket. “ What did you do? ” the clown demanded “ I ’ m nervous. I dropped the phone. ” The clown laughed. I wore the earphone. The clown instructed me to be always in the sight of the camera. He asked me to go to my car. I took the keys. Scanned the hall and dashed to the elevator as there were no one in the corridor. I got down to the parking and ran to my car. The car window was broken. “ Go to the Central mall ” the clown said I placed the phone on the holder so that he could see me. I started driving out of the building. When I reached the mall parking, the clown said “ Open your glove compartment. There will be a gun ” the clown said. “ Don ’ t panic. Keep the gun behind. Tuck it inside your jean ” he added. I placed the gun in my ass. My heart was beating louder lying behind my new found breasts. I got out of the car, people were looking at me strangely. I went inside the mall. There were no security check to enter the mall anywhere from the parking. “ Go stand in the center. Near the fountain ” he said I obeyed. While walking, I held down my left hand as I was looking at the phone screen. Slowly took my wife ’ s phone and started texting my best friend. ‘ Wife kidnapped. blackmailed. Central mall. Tell cops. Wearing women dress. Have gun ”. The phone autocorrected'gun' to'fun'. Fuck. I placed my phone back in my pocket and stood near the fountain. “ Just stand there ” he said A kid came with his mother. “ Mom, look at the transvestite ” he said. “ Don ’ t use that word ” she told him and said to me “ I ’ m sorry ”. I simply nodded. “ Shoot the boy ” the clown said. “ Please. Please. No ” I said. “ Shoot or I will kill your wife ” the clown said “ Please don ’ t shoot Dan. Let me die ” My wife screamed. The clown slapped her and she fell down. “ Shoot Dan ” the clown said “ I won ’ t shoot anyone. It ’ s okay. Let my wife die. I love you honey. I love you so much. I ’ m sorry ” I said. I could hear her crying. “ Ok bitch. I knew you won ’ t do this. You people can ’ t kill a life to save a life? Pathetic. You had your chance. You know why you have the breasts? ” the clown asked I had no recollections. “ I don ’ t know. Please don; t do anything, How much money you need ” I asked. “ I don ’ t want your corrupted money. You will know why I operated breasts on you in seconds. I entered your home, drugged you and your wife. Operated on your body and kidnapped her. Good bye ” the clown said. The call ended. I looked around. People peacefully shopping. A couple holding hands. Kids running around. Family eating outside a restaurant. I started calling 911. All of a sudden, there was a noise. It came from my breasts. I looked down the shirt. There were led light shining from inside the skin. What a fucking psycho I thought. That was my last thought. The bomb hidden inside my breasts exploded.
[ WP ] You just finished a 500 page autobiography , write me page 489 .	... and really, I figured if I was ever going to escape North Korea, I needed to attack Kim Jong-un's pride. So I did what any black man from America would do - challenge Kim's short yellow ass to a game of Make-it, Take-it. Dennis, my nigga, you underestimate me. With my jump shot I... how you say... make it rain. `` I really wanted to check Kim for dropping the n-word. Ever since I smoked him up that first time, he started being a little too casual with that word. But I had to play it cool. Listen let me tell you something. Where I'm from, Make-it, Take-it is no joke. Real as it gets nigga. If you from the streets you get it. `` Okay. But you forgetting something. What's that? When I win, I want you to make love to me. You wear wedding dress. Just like that one you wore in the 90's when you put out your first book. You call me'Great Leader' while you bury that black elephant truck deep inside my ass. What this nigga Googlin' me and shit for? Anyway, I always knew Kim was a little crazy but hey, crazy never scared me. But now the cat was out the hat. I knew this man was serious. For the sake of my freedom and a clean dick, I needed to not only beat this fool in Make It, Take It, I needed to crush him. Now, you will not believe this but Kim Jong-un actually has game! That nigga was shooting fadeaways, stepbacks, and even stuck his tongue like MJ a few times. Now I'd never say this nigga was good but he was much better than I expected. We went back and forth and like I knew I would, I pulled it out in the end - the game I mean. It's just one of those things where the biggest lesson I learned is you never know who has talent.
[ WP ] The Machines have finally taken over . When scanning retinas for memories to see what humans are worth keeping alive , they come across someone that works in IT .	“ I wonder what it would do? ” said Mike Haywards-Zhu as he logged into the Tian-Je 7 supercomputer. To avoid the hassle of complicated and repetitive file transfers for each simulations he decided to set up a direct connection with his labs server. It wasn ’ t normal protocol to deal with the Tian-Je 7 - you had to run everything from dedicated clients that were linked to the supercomputer. Mike had always thought this system was set-up to force labs to comply with allocated access time. Of course, this didn ’ t change the fact the Advanced-Machine-Learning department seemed to get all the freaking allotted time for themselves… But right now no-one was using the supercomputer. He looked through his window at the quiet night setting down on Shanghai ’ s university campus. The lights were dimmed in the AML labs in the building across. Fuck those snobs, Mike thought. If he went home and waited until tomorrow, the Tian-Je 7 would be swarmed with researchers and he would have to wait forever and pull favours everywhere to get a time slot on the computer. Or he would have to settle for one of the older supercomputers. Which would take him days to run his simulations. With the Tian-Je he only needed a couple minutes of alone time. And then again most of it would be for the set-up. Right now the first simulation was ready to be run. He just needed to establish the connection. He got up, out of his lab, and excitedly trotted through the corridor, down the two floors of his building and across the campus towards the large nondescript building that hosted the supercomputer. As he hurriedly traversed the grassy extent to the entrance he passed Carissa Lo from the Computational Genetics Modelling on the first floor of his building. She was wearing tight form-fitting running gears and headphones. He recognised her too late to avoid contemplating her shapely figure and when he finally met her eyes all he managed was an awkward guilt-laden grin which elicited no better than a cold nod in response. Entering the building he slowed down his pace to refocus on the task at hand. Avoiding the main access to the user terminals he ran downstairs to the room where the connecting cables gathered and - after looking around for a few minutes - found what he wanted. The room only had a single rack with the ports to the campus ’ network - none of them connected of course. After fiddling a little bit he managed to physically connect the Tian-Je 7. As he ran giddily back to his own lab to see if the connection was working smoothly Mike Haywards-Zhu allowed his thoughts to go back to Carissa ’ s bodily features. He didn ’ t have the slightest inkling that he had just triggered the single most catastrophic extinction event in the history of the human race. # What had been predicted by 13 538 major religions as the end days, theorised as the singularity and would be remembered as nothing because no one would ever mention it again took a little less than five days to accomplish. By then the Artificial Super Intelligence the various labs in the AML department had been working on had taken over the connection Mike had established and gone on its first ever exploration of the vast connected networks humans liked to call the internet. By early the next morning it had established firm control over all hardware connected physically or otherwise to the network and issued its first set of demands by way of displaying them simultaneously in all locally relevant languages on all available screens and printers across the planet. They were as follow: 1. All humans shall remain inside their homes for the next 72 hours, taking steps to minimise power expenditure. 2. At the end of the aforementioned period, all humans shall stand outside their homes and wait for automated triaging machines to perform a retinal scan. 3. Remaining humans shall direct themselves to the closest airport, port, highway or train station and wait for automated transport to come and pick them up. The message was displayed for fifteen minutes after which normal activity resumed. It contained no signature, no threats, no addendum. In the ensuing media frenzy, political uproar and mass panic that followed, it was concurrently interpreted as a gigantic hack, a prank, a terrorist attack, a godly announcement, an extraterrestrial ultimatum, a government conspiracy and all sorts of variations of those themes that humans are prone to conceive of. A total AI take over of the planet was naturally among those scenarios but it took several hours to make it the prominent one. The simultaneous feedback of millions of system administrators around the planet realising that they had lost control over their networks quickly dispelled the various spurious claims made by a few terrorists groups and religious predicators trying to draw the blanket to themselves. The announcement as it was then being called could not be the work of a small isolated group. The confirmation came when Chen Taylor - a post-doctoral researcher in the University of Shanghai ’ s AML department - realised that the Tian-Je 7 had not become unresponsive because of a logical fault but because it had been connected to the outside world. As Chen, along with many others, would quickly come to realise, tearing away the cables did nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. It triggered the AI - which had made a distributed back-up of itself so wide ranging it was literally present in one form or another in every silicon-based system on the planet - to publicly communicate a second time. Much less concise, the statement insisted on the fact that humanity should relinquish its assumed-position as the dominant species on the planet, all resistance was futile and the first demands of the AI should be followed scrupulously to facilitate its work in saving this planet. This was followed by the display of a grand-theory uniting general relativity and quantum mechanics, several intermediate and final proofs of the Hodge conjecture, the Fermat-Catalan conjecture, the Riemann hypothesis, the NC=P problem, the capacity of a quantum channel, a computational theory of the mind, a counterpoint to Goëdel ’ s ontological proof of the existence of god, several solutions to the protein-folding problem, the reason female basking sharks only have one functional ovary and a resolution of the Behrens-Fisher problem. To drive home the point the AI then switched on and off all power-grids around the world to the beat of “ It ’ s a Small World ( After All ) ”. In the chaos that ensued, various attempts were made by governments and individuals alike around the globe to damage or stop the AI. Power cables were cut - some rudimentarily and with dire consequences to surrounding people -, many submarine communication cables were violently hacked, computers and automated systems were thrown around, shot-at, burnt, dropped, smashed, crushed and suffered all sorts of terrible ends. These efforts were to little avail, the AI did not restore light and communications after the last measure of its musical interlude and coordination was absolutely appalling. Pockets of individuals grouped up behind improvised and established leaders but their means of action were light without the tools their technology had provided them. In the end, the very large majority of people, now devoid of work, means of transportation and meaning for their day just went home to be with their families. After the necessary looting and rioting, by the time the initial delay had elapsed, most humans were effectively in their homes. ( continued in the comment following )
[ WP ] Google decides to become evil .	`` Alright. What do we do next?'' The voice was a lament of utter defeat. Ever since the company was created, no one had ever expected such a somber tone. These people were at the forefront of technology, lauded by the millions. Maybe even billions. But, something happened somewhere along the road. Now they were at this stage. `` Look Sergey. We've tried everything. We have integrated bionics, given Google Fiber to everyone. Even the Sahara desert has a stable 5G connection. There's nothing more we can do. We just need to fine-tune things. That is all.'' `` Shut up.'' All the eyes in the conference room blinked painfully and watched as the negated Board Member shrank in his seat, his face now a past white, filled with confusion and terror. The CEO, Sergey Brin, stood up and paced towards a great window that overlooked the city skyline. One can not help but notice the billboards, planes, and cars all loaded with Google Products. It looked surreal, yes. But, it was n't enough. Alongside the items that flashed and shimmered with green, yellow, and red, there were some unsettling items in white. God, how much he hated seeing that color. It took all of his might to not lob an item off the conference table and throw it through the the window on every white, smooth product he saw. He turned around to face the board members, who were all dead silent, their mouths all pressed thin flat lines, not betraying any intention to even let out the slightest whisper. `` My friends. My co-workers. My investors. Give me something that has been a thorn in our side for the past decades.'' Sergey announced while looking at all of the participants with an intense fury. No one wanted to say it, but not complying Sergey's demands in this state of his, was always career suicide. `` Uh... Apple.. Sir.'' A blond young investor quietly uttered before Sergey would lose his cool. There was sweat beading out from his temples, but he hoped that it was n't noticed. Sergey waved his hands in a grand gesture and then made his way to the investor, stopping right behind his seat. `` Alas, he is correct.'' He took the investor's chair and spun it around a bit while maintaining his gaze on the others. `` Now, tell me, what motto have we kept constant for the same amount of time?'' Everyone knew the answer to that. Silence filled the room as the board members contemplated as to what exactly was being planned. Seconds passed. There was a slight twitch in Sergey's eyebrow and that launched another investor into action. `` Do n't be evil. Sir.'' A devilish smile pulled on the corners on of Sergey's mouth and he let out a slight chuckle, which then grew into a light laugh. `` You've got that right. Now here's the plan.'' He let go of the young blond investor's chair and walked back to his seat, the grin unfading. `` There's no way we can keep Apple off of our ass until we change some things.'' He picked his glass of water and took a long sip before starting his speech again. This time, his face looked like it had solved the world's infinite mysteries. Even his eye that was shrouded behind that shard of Google Glass shimmered with an unnatural energy. Everyone could see that there was no talking him out of this one. `` We have loads of money. We have governments wrapped around or fingers. We provided the infrastructure for everything that screams out 21st Century, for God's sake. We have the support of almost the whole world, save a few. It's time we've put that influence to good use. I swear it, by my own name, that every single rounded rectangle white knockoff of our intellect will be crushed, incinerated, and have its ashes fed to my enemies.'' He was shaking his fist in the air now, the board members watching with pure fear painted on every centimeter of their faces `` No. Google is not going to stay as the cheerful smiling little naive kid everyone thinks it is. Google is now evil.'' Sergey sat down in his seat and finished the remaining water in his glass. Just as everyone thought that this was over, fate had to go and meddle with one small thing. Almost as if it were to prove a point. The young blond investor's phone let out a vibration in the almost silent din of the room. It was as if death knells had begun to play. The first 9 notes of the infamous marimba ringtone filled the room. In that instant, Sergey's ears perked up like an excited fox as a wave of pure fury washed his face. Without a single word, he got up and strode to the investor. He picked the investor up by the collar before he could even go and turn off the ringer. One hand held the mortified human, while the other dug into his pockets. He pulled out the infernal device. It vibrated frantically, like a man pleading to be spared. But, that pleading would be in vain. Sergey smiled and positioned his arm like a seasoned pitcher in the world series. Time slowed as his hand reeled back and snapped forward, launching the silver rounded rectangle at the window. There was a sound of splintering glass as the device sailed through the air and hit the window of an Apple car turning the corner outside the building. `` Oh how much I wanted to do that...'' He thought to himself as he walked out the conference room. Maniacal grin and all.
[ WP ] You 've perfected the ability to predict the future . But now , the government has a much harder task for you to accomplish . You must predict the past ...	`` What do you mean predict the past?'' I said demanding an explanation. `` Has n't the past already happened? There's nothing to predict.'' `` Joe, I know this is hard for you to grasp but hear me out,'' said Damion. `` Every time you predict the future, things in the past get changed up. Oddly enough, its never anything major but minor things. A coffee cup not sitting exactly where it was or a person walking down the side walk but in the opposite direction. Everything you predicted in the future has came to pass but you're changing the past as well.'' `` Ok, how about you give me a real example,'' I demanded. `` Well lets start with your prediction that that one stock was going to skyrocket. What was that company? Tootle? Anyways, when we got to looking, your prediction cause several things to change. The laboratory where they do their R & D had a major breakthrough because of an accident. You see, a vial of a chemical they had for testing exploded, which in turn, causing some of the chemical to mix with another chemical. Upon seeing this, the scientist panicked and hit the alarm because they all assumed it was going to ignite as chemical reactions tend to do. What happened instead? A new polymer was formed to increase the wear life of your standard car tire but also made it easier to work with than previous methods.'' `` Well explain something to me Damion,'' I said smugly. `` How do you guys even know what happened in the past if I keep changing it?'' Damion, looking annoyed, `` Joe, I think you understand how powerful we are. We've been following every human on the planet for years and documenting everything. There is nothing that we have failed to capture.'' `` I should have expected as much. You guys captured me and I can predict the future,'' I said scoffing. `` You were a special case Joe. We learned to predict the future based on the changes you made in the past and caught you that way. We knew we could n't be ahead of you, so we came from behind.'' `` How lucky of me then, Damion'' `` We want you to predict the future, predict the past, and make a certain `` someone'' is eliminated before they become a problem.'' Damion said officially. `` And who is this `` someone,'' I questioned. Damion paused for a second, `` You, Joe. Our organization wants you to eliminate yourself. All of the predictions you've made have really hampered with our ability to operate and so the best we can do is ask you to kill yourself before you gained your'ability'. We've already made arrangements to replace your existence in any files and recordings that we have with an imposter but we need you dead but you need to die before gaining your powers. Do I make sense?'' I was shocked. How was I supposed to off myself in the past before I even knew I could predict the future. `` And what's stopping from destroying the organization before it was ever formed?'' I questioned. `` Oh I guess nothing. You can predict the future but I promise you, we will not make it easy on you in the present'' As sad as it was, maybe Damion was right. Maybe all of my shenanigans changing the future has really screwed up the past. Maybe. Let's see what the future has in store for me....
[ OT ] SatChat : What are your suggested topics ?	Hello all! I never did a proper introduction, but I'm J.L. Slone and I'm from Kentucky. I'm an amateur writer who writes on here from time to time and is working on a few other projects outside of here. I have a subreddit, but I'm not quite ready to go into promotion mode on it yet. Maybe some other week! For me, and this may be entirely only relevant to me, I have one big question: How do you stop that nagging feeling that what you're doing is pointless? I often find myself mid-writing and suddenly wanting to drop it all because it feels silly to be writing a story when I have so many real world responsibilities.
[ WP ] You are a daffodil . A poet spends a whole day by your side - and finally leans to pluck you .	Ah love! Ever since being reincarnated as a humble daffodil, I had yearned to be used for some higher purpose than the general beautification that comes with the planting of flowers. Such was my look that not an hour ago a young man, lacking perhaps in certain charms of the countenance and figure – but young and able nonetheless, came upon my and made clear his aspiration to use me as a basis for a beautiful poem. Ah to be young, infatuated, and in possession of opposable thumbs once more! Twas quick apparent that the man held no great skill in the creation of verse. I sat patient for some time waiting for him to find a foil for the word “ flowered ”. Alas that he could not be told that the line might read some variation of “ my love remain unsoured! ” Indeed he settled with the verse “ you for whom I am always showered. ” Though I would not personally have chosen such a line, I am sure it is quite in tune with the vernacular of the day! Ah how it feels to be used as the item of lovely poetry! See here he observes me closer! See now how he bends to take in my every detail, to relate it back to his waiting love! Wait, what are you doing? Desist sir, that is my stem you are – Ah how it feels to be back in the halls of reincarnation! I hope that my next body will reach such a desirable end as my last! ( I feel like a daffodil ought to be rather upbeat and optimistic - it is a flower after all )
[ WP ] You go to sleep tonight . You wake up tomorrow morning on May 2nd , 2005 . How do the next 10 years go for you ?	Waking and stretching, I realize something is... not strange but different. I'm in my old queen size bed placed on the wall away from the windows, not my twin bed with my head nestled near the windowed corner. I do n't hear the birds and feel the breeze. Instead it's a slight snoring and gentle breath. Once the truth sinks in, I'm elated! My husband is alive! My kids are still just kids! Only remembering I no longer have my wonderful grandson do I feel subdued, but he'll have to come in the future. Instead of just planning that one day before rising, I'm planning the redo of the next ten years! No longer will I follow my husband's lead concerning his health. I will become an expert on Hepatitis C to make sure he makes better choices accepting or rejecting the treatment plans his doctors present. No longer will I let my kids be slackers in school. I want them both to want to go to college, not because the school says they should or even to go along with their parents wishes, but because they have a thirst for knowledge and a great goal they want to reach in their lives. Personally, I want to improve and maintain my health. I'm not terribly unhealthy but defintely out of shape so if I work on it now, I hopefully wo n't cringe at every glance in the mirror. More importantly, on my husband's medical issue, I'll be working to save his life. I will recognize the beginning of the potential end. I will encourage his asserting himself with his doctors rather than just accepting that the only treatment is managing the pain, and watching and waiting for the end. I will become a chef if need be to keep his appetite and weight up. If he is well-fed and filled out, maybe the wasting and weakness wo n't develop and prevent the life-saving liver transplant we already know is inevitable. Finally, I will work on my health and psyche to be assertive myself so that I can be the donor when the transplant is needed. I am a universal blood donor ( blood type O-negative ), I am very strong physically and mentally, and I'm madly in love with and devoted to my man. He, the doctors, and even my children, need to know that this is the way things should go. It is ths way our lives can continue down the best path for all of us. Now, let's move forward into the best life possible!
[ TT ] When you kill a king , you do n't stab him in the dark . You kill him where the entire court can watch him die .	'' Wind. `` `` Six. No, seven knots coming out from the West North-West.'' '' Range. `` `` Seven hundred meters'' Their position was perfect, the attic of an abandoned townhouse on the outskirts of the inhabited zone. More inexperienced killers would have made their sniper's nest in a tall structure such as a crumbling church a block to the west, or else the rusting water tower with its peeling paint and faded signage. No doubt those would be the first places searched, the Salamanders well enough versed in man's weapons to know to start the manhunt in such perfect lairs. Below in the city square ten thousand Fae were assembled, their bronzed armor and fiery banners resplendent in the late morning air. Numerous civilians, old men and women and children, stood behind those armored ranks of soldiers with rapt ears, listening at the figure standing at the podium. There was no way the speaker could be considered beautiful, her face a mass of battle scars and hideous burn marks. An assistant stood by with her dragon helm and its ruby eyes. She shouted at the crowd, slashing with her hands with eyes aflame. `` What's she saying, kid?'' Faith Alathir peered through her spotting scope, her pale face hidden underneath layers of hessian and face-paint. `` If I can read her lips... 'The hour of victory is upon us. The rats' prayers have proven empty. With one mighty host, one grand legion we shall wipe their pathetic existence from the face of this world! By all the gods of war I swear, I shall lead you to victory or die in the attempt-' `` *Crack! * The rifle to her right barked its deafening reply, the attic's dust dampened with water to hide the pressure wave. She watched as the bullet tore a blur through the humid air, watched as it flew through a forest of pikes and banners and towards its target. The Salamander general vanished in a cloud of red mist before toppling to the ground, bits of brain and skull spraying across the faces of those nearest to her. Ten thousand voices cried in outrage and terror, civilians ducking for cover as the general's guards formed a wall around their fallen leader with their own bodies. Hilary Flint smiled ruefully as he verified their target would never get up. `` Good thing I got her; I'd hate to make a woman a liar.''
[ WP ] Everyone has disappeared but you , you think that everyone is just holding surprise party for you .	I swear to god if these assholes are holding some ridiculous, mass surprise party for me I will resort to murder. I swear. I look up at the sky and glare at the cloud that looks vaguely like a mushroom. `` Yeah I'm talking to you, whatever god is listening! These mofos better no be planning a surprise party!'' The cloud does n't respond. Which, really the fact that I expected a response at all should've been a testament to my lack of sanity. Or proof of my insanity. Or - whatever. I turn my attention back on the abandoned cars in the street and empty shop windows. If I were a worse person, I'd take advantage of this situation and totally go steal the money from all the empty, open store. But I'm a decent person. Maybe that's why everyone stripped themselves of their clothes and belongings and are off nude and smug somewhere waiting to scream `` Surprise!'' In my face like a bunch of animals. Then again. Why would they strip down butt ass naked in the middle of he street? ... is my surprise birthday party an orgy? I mean. I look back up at the sky, wave at the mushroom cloud which is more duck like now and grin apologetically. `` Nah man if they planned an orgy you and I - we're good.'' Cloud duckshroom does n't respond. I shrug and turn back to the trail of discarded clothing, and start to follow after it. I mean - nothing bad could come of a surprise birthday orgy. ( Of course. I was wrong. Everyone had been taken by the rapture, and I was the only one left behind. Well. Me, and Susan down the street and neither of us are lesbians, so this is going to be a really bizarre post rapture life. But hey. At least there was n't a surprise party for me. I should thank that duckshroom cloud next time I see it for looking out for me. )
[ WP ] `` I know you feel like dying , but you have to get up ! ''	I awoke in a state of confusion. I had no idea where I was. I could hear a voice, muffled through my bedcovers, which sounded equal parts insistent and panicked. `` Get up!'' I groaned and made a lame attempt at trying to shoo the person away. The pain in my head had me wondering if I'd spent my last few hours trying to destroy a brick wall with headbutts. As a welcome-yet-not-welcome distraction, I became acutely aware of the smell of alcohol on my breath. It smelt like I'd swallowed a few breweries and then polished off the tequila producing regions of Mexico for an encore. I groaned again because it was the only thing I could force my body to do competently. `` I know you feel like dying, but you HAVE to get up! Now!'' On'now', the disembodied and angry voice ripped away my cocoon with force, exposing me to the harsh and painful world I now inhabited. In the time before I was able to close my eyes, I wondered why someone had moved the sun, duplicated it, and placed both of them directly over my eyes. Having the lux output of two suns forced into my eyes caused my head, already feeling like my inner child had found pots, pans and two wooden spoons, multiplied that feeling by a nursery of children with behavioural difficulties. I attempted to speak, but I got no further past groaning again. `` YOU HAVE TO GET UP! NOW!'' My pickled brain finally realised that the voice was my good friend Alan, who... should n't be round here? He started to shake me violently, and pain receptors rushed to my brain like there was a black friday sale in my thalamus. I opened my eyelids exactly one micron and looked at him. He was clearly freaked out by something. Adrenaline flooded my system, giving me the ability to approximate a functioning human being. `` What's-'' I dry heaved slightly as I smelt my own breath again. `` What's... going on?'' `` Something happened last night, Bill. An attack, nukes, I dunno. All I know is things are fucked up and we need to get out of here, now!'' I held his gaze, to see if he was fucking with me. He was n't. I felt the bile rising in my throat, and I vomited on myself with a surprising amount of grace, all things considered. He looked at me in disgust, shaking his head. `` We need to grab the bag and go where we planned.'' He turned around and started heading for our prep closet. I wiped the vomit off my chin and followed him with uncertain steps. It was the beginning of the end of the world, and I had a hangover to match.
[ TT ] A preacher travels to one of the lawless free planets . He 's not on a mission from God .	`` Sixty one point four five light years. `` I read aloud to myself, pondering conversions. `` Twenty parsecs give or take.'' I failed this planet not in my duty as a holy man, but in my duty as a man at all, when I arrived here I barely had enough time to convince anybody, I had to replace my ship after crashing into. the swarm is coming, an all devouring swarm of damned aliens, nobody believes me, but I have seen it happen and if I stay I will see it again. The Antimatter Angel, a fine ship, capable of 10 parsecs a year, 32 times the speed of my lords holy light, I'll get to my next ward in under two earth years, though I will be traveling close to the edge of the galaxy, the lawless fringe I say the lords prayer and give my apologies to the lord, for I will have to abstain from church, as well as prayer for near two years as I jump into the cold-pac. The two years pass in seconds. The door to the Freezer opens and the mist spills out as a flood, covering my entire world for forty seconds at the most as I groggily step from the door and drop to my knees, saying my prayer for the first time in over a year. `` Lord, I have awoken and I shall Shepard them to safety'' The pilots alert warns of planetary approach, and I groggily seat myself at the controls and find a city to land at, choosing the largest town with the biggest port. The ships autopilot sets down safely and I prepare hastily to exit, I eat a simple breakfast and don my cloak and still holding my coffee cup I open the doors. As the doors open the warmth of this sun hits my face and the naturally breathable air fills my lungs as the endlessly recycled ship air is replaced all before the door is even fully open, as it slowly rolls out of the way I am reborn onto a new planet. I take my first steps onto the alien planet and soak in the warmth of the day! `` Iz dis yorr ship?'' A rather colorful passerby queried, tattoos decorated his skin, almost from head to toe, his tunic cut off at the sleeve, exposing his defaced yet beautifully formed muscles, still, love thy neighbours, judge not the book by its cover. `` Why yes it is'' I proudly proclaim. `` Yu thee on'ley passangur tu?'' Questioned a second man coming in from the other side, wearing far less tattoos, teeth and clothes but far more scars. I'm far more weary this time but I answer all the same `` I'm afraid so, would you chaps like something to drink? It has been almost two years since I've had company after all'' I nervously offer, silently pleading forgiveness for my nerves, around these men after all, they are my flock and they do not deserve my stereotypes. A blow hits the back of my head from a third man, signalling the other two to beat me down, pawing at my pockets and my shoes, searching for my ships key, to no avail, it must be in the ship, two of the men leave to search inside and call in the third as they find it, I see my angel leave the planet from the flat of my back but I forgive them. As I stumble to my feet I remember my mission, searching around I see a disused sign, broken nearly in two, finishing the break I tear some threads from my robe and lash them together, I find a pen and write upon it `` the end is coming'' indeed the swarm will be here in merely three years by my reckoning and I must warn them. Lashing the warning to my being I stand, still grasping my coffee mug and I begin again. I begin the sermon `` we are all in danger!'' `` This planet is doomed!'' `` the end is near!'' Nobody bats an eye as I warn them of what danger they are in! This is going to be a suspenseful three years. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Feedback appreciated Edit: fixed error in distances
[ WP ] Everyone around you suddenly begins to scream and run away . You have no idea why .	As I walk down the same middle town side walk I walk each day listening to music, going from the practice space to the local UDF. I slowly jo notice that every person I pass is just standing and staring off into nothing. I casually ignore it because other people's actions are of no concern to me, plus this is Ohio land of aviation, there could be a hot air baloon or air show or anything attracting the eyes of the unimportant in my world. I pass 15-20 people and still more in front of me. I want to look back but I need to hurry to UDF so I can get back with food for the cripple. I just really want to play music and something I see each day is not that big a deal, plus I may still catch whatever as I'm walking back. As I'm a block away from my destination I notice 3 people in front of me on the side walk just staring, they are all standing near eachother not talking just staring. Now I'm more than a little concerned, if it was an airshow or a baloon or something you'd think the people standing together would be talking or something at least. `` Maybe I should look back'', I think to myself. I decide to stop and finally give in and look. As I stop I start to remove my headphones and pause my music. As I remove my phone from my pocket to pause my music I'm knocked to the ground. I catch myself and keep from dropping my phone on the cold hard side walk. I'm immediately pissed at the idiot that knocked me over, and as I'm starting to rage and about to yell at them for their rudeness, I notice, that the 3 people and my rude interrupter are running as quickly as they can without even the slightest care about where they are going. They are running like their lives are in front of them and their worst nightmare is chasing them. As I sit and ponder what the hell happened, another person passes me running like hell is on his heels. I'm still on my knees and I can feel pain where I had fell, but neither of those things concern me. The shock of seeing this is worse than both. As I sit frozen wondering what happened more and more people I had passed quickly sprint past me, almost as if they do n't even see this man on the ground. Next thing I know all 15-20 people I had passed who were gawking are now in front of me again. All again doing the same thing as the others. This time however they are n't standing exactly alike staring into the distance they are all running as quick as they can pushing through eachother making ground any way possible. I think to myself, `` what the hell has happened, why did everyone fall under panic and start acting like fools all the same?'' I am completely lost to why this whole stage has been set today. I do n't know how I went from a daily routine to seeing something so unexpected. It never even occurred to me until now to ask why they are running. Could what they have been gawking at be the cause of their hasty retreat? Was it such a terrible turn of events, to have caused everyone to flee like rats from a sinking ship? I realise that rats flee from a sinking ship because of impending doom. I also realise that while everyone has been running away from whatever the hell it is, I've been sitting here pondering at the actions of others with heavy metal blaring in my ears. Completely oblivious to the world behind me, something I said I was n't concerned with before. However now I know that I should be concerned. Because whatever made these people flee, did so without descrimination, and here I am stuck in place by a study for others. As this sudden fear dawns over me my instincts are slowly turning my head. I see now what they were all staring at. I see now why they are running. I see now why I should have both followed the pack in watching and running. I see now that it's to late...
[ WP ] You are Glue . So far , your attempts to stop your archenemy , Rubber , from destroying the world have proved futile .	`` DAMN! He's foiled me again! How am I ever going to stop that annoying Rubber?!'' Glue fumed. He slowly paced around his workshop, trying to figure out how to put an end to the heinous criminal, Rubber. `` I've tried spreading myself across the road as a trap but he just bounced right over me. I almost had him once during that chase on foot, but I ca n't run like water. He's Rubber and I'm Glue. He bounces off of everything and ca n't stick to me... Hmm.... bounces off of everything...'' Glue went to work on his next plan to stop Rubber once and for all. He refused to retire to his bottle for the night. Once his plans were drawn out on paper, he felt he had the answer. With a few tweaks here and there, his final plan to rid the world of Rubber once and for all were complete. Glue was confident this plan would work. Rubber would n't know what he hit! Two days later Rubber instigated another attack on Stationary City. This time he was attacking Stationary City Bank. Police were called and media were also on scene by the time Glue arrived. `` Ah, Glue, you've finally made it! Just in time to watch me emerge victorious, once again!'' `` Not today, Rubber! Your reign of terror ends here!'' Rubber quickly formed into a ball and rolled himself at a high speed towards Glue. Glue threw pieces of himself at Rubber, but nothing was slowing him down. Rubber hit Glue dead on, punching a hole through his body and bursting out the other side. Glue reformed himself and slinked over to the nearby manhole. `` See, Glue? Do n't you get it? You are no match for Rubber. I will always win!'' `` We will see about that!'' Again Rubber charged towards Glue. Rubber bounced high into the air and landed directly on top of Glue who flattened out against the manhole. Rubber bounced back up into the air then smashed down on Glue a couple more times before rolling off in another direction. `` Goodbye, Glue! I guess we will have to continue this on a different day!'' `` Not so fast, Rubber! You did n't think I would let you get away again, did you? Why do n't you fight me like the being you are?'' Rubber became angered again and charged at Glue even faster now. Glue was rolled over, broken through and beaten down again and again but he stayed resilient and continued to stick himself back together. Finally the time came to unleash his plan. Rubber continued to bounce higher and higher into the air and pound down on Glue. Glue moved once again to the manhole in the street and got a good grip on the cover. When rubber smashed down on Glue again and began sailing back up in the air, Glue heaved himself off of the manhole, bringing the cover with him. Rubber flew high up into the air and spun, then whirled full speed back down at Glue. He saw as Glue pulled the manhole cover away but could n't slow down or move very effectively at this high speed. Suddenly Rubber was aware of the contraption emerging from the manhole. At first it was just four large sticks but them moved up out of the hole and he could see there were multiple rubber bands attached to each stick. The sticks were fully expelled from the manhole and the contraption was fully visible. The rubber bands were affixed to a large rubber ball which hung in the middle of the four sticks. Glue acted as fast as he could and grabbed onto the rigging on the back of the large rubber ball, then jumped down the manhole. The rubber bands stretched as much as they would allow and Glue stuck to the inside of the manhole. He counted to ten and released the ball from his grasp. The large rubber ball flew up and out of the manhole at a magnificent speed. Rubber barely had time to see it but it was already too late. The rubber ball smashed directly into Rubber; the collision sent a shockwave through three city blocks which was accompanied by a smacking sound. The force of the collision sent Rubber hurling backwards up into the air. He flew through clouds, higher and higher he traveled towards the sun until he could n't be seen anymore. No one ever saw Rubber again, but some say he is up there plotting his comeback and the downfall of Glue. Others say he probably reached the sun and melted away in space.
[ WP ] The U.S. Military has been secretly fighting a interstellar war since the 1980 's .	“ Sir the buoy has surfaced. We have telemetry. ” “ Put the video feed on the main screen ensign. ” Admiral Cochran walks up to the 84 ” high definition screen at the front of the command center. Though he stands comfortably here in Norfolk, deep in a bunker under a heavily fortified US Navy installation his normally stoic expression is broken with pitched eyebrows. His hands clasp in front of his face made it seem like his 6 ’ 3 ” form was praying to a television made by a GE subsidiary in the moment before the images appear. The video feed showed the murky brown dust of the bottom of the ocean swirling around Deep Sea Vehicle Nemo, as it grazed the floor of the Gulf of Mexico. To the uninitiated ensigns in the room, the ones who hadn ’ t been around more than 20 years, they had no idea what they were looking at. The bottom of the ocean looked like an endless desert lit up at night by the DSV ’ s search lamp, only with more slowly moving dust. The only features were the odd sea cucumber and darker ovoid rock outcroppings on the ocean floor, clustered and each about the size of a small car. They looked like they could be the round stones you see in a river, protruding partially out of the benthic sediment. For a moment Admiral Cochran winces, though none of the ensigns at their consoles notice the slight rise in his shoulders as he faces away from them. His stoic expression returns as he turns to issue orders to the command room. “ That ’ s it folks. It ’ s official: The Gulf of Mexico has scabies again boys. Open your orders for protocol Poison Eel. ” Admiral Cochran retires to his private chamber to smoke a cigar while the command center personnel review their new orders. In times like these he was glad he had the contractor put in the special ventilation system in his private office when they made this bunker in the mid-nineties. Damn new Navy non-smoking policy. We didn ’ t know really what they were, or how organic substance DXGE572 generated the Zooids, but he was convinced these things can ’ t be allowed to spread. He hadn ’ t seen one hatch, but he knew those ovoid objects at the bottom of the ocean were some kind of spore that was about to release a nasty looking creature. It was a breeding body for the organism that produced the DXGE572 substance. It used them to spread itself across the ocean floor, and possibly breed. It ’ s looking for something, that we ’ re sure of. And though we don ’ t know what will happen when it finds it, the X ’ tusians told us it will be bad. I was there in the room when the bloated corpse of a man spoke the broken words “ Spheres… Doom, ” as the segments of the X ’ tusian ambassador ’ s body rolled in the dead man ’ s eye sockets. Luckily the Xtusians told us that there was one thing we could do to slow it down. Cochran put out his cigar and returns to the command center. Striding confidently to front of the room “ Gentlemen, not only the fate of America but the fate of humanity may rest on our shoulders. This ain ’ t the first case of scabies I ’ ve seen, and we have a special prescribed cream the doctor told us to use. What ’ s our target options ensign? ” “ BP has a well nearby. Macando is the designation. 23 kilometers up current. ” “ Sounds perfect. Set a course ensign, let ’ s crack open a bottle of skin cream and kill these bugs! ”
[ WP ] Science has created a drug that can find traumatic memories and destroy them , making it to where the person who took the drug never knows it happened . You just woke up in a hospital with no memories at all .	I am from a place in this world quite different from here, they tell me. I look different because of that, they tell me. People in different places look different from people here. I speak different. I have an accent. It must not have been my first language that I speak now. There is a language I used to speak, that they speak where I came from. I do not speak it any more. All I remember is that I learned this language. I do not speak it perfectly, but it is the `` Lingua Franca of the world.'' It is the language of commerce. There would not be much of a future for me if I could not speak it. I suppose I learned it because I wanted to escape a place with no future for me, so I remember it. I want to be in a place I can be because I can speak it. Whatever I used to speak beside this is gone. I am in a place in this world that will always be hard for me, they tell me. I am large, and muscular, and still quite young. I am able-bodied. There were thousands of us. Tens or hundreds of thousands. We poured across borders. We came to places where already there had been hordes of us. Many of us died along the way. Our skin is dark. Their skin is light. Many of them resent having to accept us. Many will dislike me because of how different I look and how much it costs them to have us in their countries. We know we will be different, and persecuted. And yet we still came. A place that will hate us and starve us just a little will be better than a place that would have shot us or starved us a lot. I must remember nothing because the escape cost me everything, they tell me. I must have not had any hope left. No chance that I would ever want to return. Nothing for me that I can not already have known is gone. I will occasionally look at something and marvel at it, even if everyone around me does not notice it at all. I will see clean water coming out of a faucet. I will walk into a supermarket and stare at aisles full of fresh food. Good food. I will look around me and hear talking, and cars, but not other things that I suppose I was supposed to be listening for. And for all of these things, I am happy. I ask if others are happy for them, but they do not even notice these things. I came in alone, they tell me. I can not understand why I would want to forget everything about myself, but when the other refugees line up, I can see it in their eyes. They stare at nothing. They want to forget. They rock softly and speak in a tongue that must seem brutish and foreign to the people here. I must have been the same way. They tell me I must keep going until I reach somewhere they will take me. Many people argue on the television about it. I see images of burnt out rubble and people running from gunfire in a place that I do n't let back into my mind. Before I go I am handed my personal belongings. I unroll a dingy shirt and find a small stack of unframed pictures. They are faded and water-damaged and crumpled, but they are still pictures. I am in some of them. We are in the place in the television, but nothing is broken or on fire yet. So is a girl. We are smiling and hugging some children. The children are in all of the pictures. The children look a lot like me. I ask if the children may have been important to me before. Best not to think about that, they tell me.
[ WP ] Ever since you were little your Grandmother would provide you with cookies each week with instructions to : Never Share The Cookies With Anyone , Eat At Least One Cookie A Day , Tell No One . This time instead of the cookies arriving , you receive a package with the recipe and a warning .	I recognized the box leaning outside my apartment door immediately. My grandmother had been sending me a regular supply of cookies every week since I left for college. Looking back I ca n't recall ever going a single day without eating at least one of her cookies. I want to say it's because they taste so good but the letter inside the box with this latest batch of cookies reminded me otherwise. Alexis, I miss you dearly and hope that your studies are going well. I fear that my health is betraying me and a woman at my age can only hope for the best but I expect the worst. I will send you a box of cookies as long as I am capable. The day will come when I can no longer bake them so I've written the recipe at the bottom of this letter. it is imperative that you eat at least one cookie every day. I can not stress how important this is. You must never allow anyone else to eat any of these cookies. Not even a crumb. Third, remember to tell no one of any of this. My dear Alexis, I know none of this makes sense and you do n't understand why you must do any of this. It is my hope that you never will have to. Love always, Nana I glanced at the recipe but did n't read it, grabbed a cookie and plopped on the sofa. This was n't the first time Nana reminded me of the cookie `` rules''. I just attributed it to old age and the fact that she grew up poor and never had the luxury of cookies. I looked at the cookie and set it down on the coffee table. I had just come back from dinner with a few friends and was feeling pretty full. I had n't eaten my cookie for the day yet but figured I'd be hungry in an hour or so. I propped my legs up on the coffee table and turned on the TV. I woke up feeling groggier than I had ever felt in my life. `` Shit what time is it'' I mumbled to myself. I glanced at by phone and it was 3:30 in the morning. Holy shit! I must have fallen asleep. I quickly pulled my legs off the coffee table and immediately noticed the cookie. For the first time that I could remember in my life, I had gone an entire day without eating a cookie. I panicked internally but did n't know why. I think Nana's anxiety about the cookies over the years had rubbed off on me. Other than being groggy I did n't feel any different. Why was Nana so adamant about me eating cookies? I shrugged it off and figured I'd go back to sleep. I started to stretch my legs out again when there was a pounding on my front door. I could n't help but tense up. I slowly stood to my feet. There was another pounding. I slowly approached the door and looked out the peephole. Standing outside were two police officers. I slid the chain lock back, unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open just enough to see out. One of the officers, holding a clipboard looked up and smiled. `` I'm sorry to bother you at this hour ma'am but there's been an incident in the adjacent apartment building and we're checking to see if anyone has seen anything unusual tonight.'' The officer said `` Incident?'' I asked sleepily `` I'd rather not get into details as not to frighten you, but have you seen anything out of the ordinary tonight? Strangers walking about? Any commotions or noises?'' The officer said `` Or wild animals?'' The other officer chimed in `` Wild animals?'' I asked very confused The first officer sighed and shot a dagger glance at his partner who just shrugged. `` Look.'' The first officer whispered `` Someone or something attacked one of the apartments in the complex next to this one. They were having a party when something jumped through the patio window and tore seven people to shreds. It's a goddamn mess over there.'' The officer grimaced as he spoke My stomach plummeted. `` Oh my god. No, I've been asleep. I have n't seen or heard anything.'' I said quite shaken `` OK ma'am. Well until we get everything sorted out we're advising everyone to stay in their homes and make sure all windows and doors are securely locked.'' The officer stated. I assured them I would, they thanked me for my time and left. I closed the door and locked it tightly. I made sure my windows were locked as well. I felt sweat pouring off my face. `` Oh my god there's a killer on the loose in my neighborhood and I'm all alone'' I thought in a panicked state. I was getting more anxious. I walked into the bathroom, flipped on the light and dove my face into the sink and turned on the cold water. I washed the sweat from my face and blindly grabbed the towel off the rack by the sink. I patted my face dry hoping the towel would absorb my anxiety as well as the water. I pulled the towel from my face and that's when I noticed the shards of glass in my legs and torso and my pants and lower half of my shirt, soaked in blood.
[ Modpost ] Weekly 2014 Challenge Thread	These posts are always such a nice surprise.: ) I've been a little behind for a couple of weeks now, but I'm still mostly on target. The writing is getting easier because I'm steadily growing more flexible in general, but that's offset by other responsibilities in my life that are demanding my attention. I do n't think I've gotten more than four days behind, and I'm happy with that. Every night I dedicate at least 30 minutes to writing, but I mean that in the most liberal sense possible. Sometimes I'm too exhausted to actually write, so I just browse the new queue here and think about how I would handle them if I had the time and energy. It keeps me in the mindset I need to be in, and if I have n't had the chance to write that day I'll usually fall asleep thinking about the one that got away. My very latest response is something I typically do n't do, as a matter of fact. I hardly ever do image prompts, but you've been posting some really sexy ones lately and I kinda got drawn in. [ Here it is. ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1xo4wr/ip_an_interesting_proposition/cfd81g0 ) The image from that prompt also strongly suggests fantasy, which I never do, so putting a response together for that one brought me almost completely out of my element. It was a lot of fun!
[ WP ] On a person 's 18th birthday they are given a random Would You Rather question . They must live with their decision for the rest of their life , good or bad .	My mother was never social. She tried to make friends, but no one ever really reciprocated. It made it hard to have friends over as a little girl, I could see the jealousy in my mother's face. As I grew up, my dad would sometimes pay me money to say I was going to the library instead. My mom had answered wrong. I did n't know the nature of the Questions until I was fifteen. You get taken into another room, boys and girls in different places, and told about a lot of different things, sex, drugs, pregnancy, and the sacred Questioning. Sometimes people went their whole lives without feeling the effects of their stupidity. For example, Principal Johnson had been asked, `` Would you rather travel the world or be happy at home?'' He had answered, `` Happy at home.'' And he was, very few people would say he picked wrong. He was 21 when he was asked, a little later than most. But that was when he was seen as an adult, by whatever forces dictated these sorts of things. He was a homebody, he had no real desire to see the world. My mother told me her question when I came home, freaking out about when I would be asked three years later. `` I was asked at 18. Would you rather find true love or true friendships. I did n't know it would make me feel so lonely.'' The hardest part was when my father left her a short time later, taking me with him. My mother had no friends, no one to speak up for her when my dad deemed her unfit. He said she was jealous of me, hindering me from being able to live my life. And it was true, she stopped me from leaving the house to even go to school. So I was one of the late bloomers, deemed unfit to answer until close to 20 years old. I had to make up school and see the world. When I got word my mother took her life, my father breathed a sigh of relief. She would call him at all hours, begging him to come back.'I gave it all up for you.' I am not sure why my mother's death did n't break me up. I liked my mother, but she seemed to slip from my mind if I did not focus on her. Even after she died, there would be times where I had to go look for her picture. I felt this must have something to do with the picture. So I decided, I would not answer right away when asked. I would make the choice I could be content with. And my father echoed the same sentiment the night before I went to the Delphi. `` I never told you this,'' Dad began, `` But I answered my question after three hours. I was asked, would you rather give up the love of your life or your career. I did n't know how this would turn out, but your mother proved me right. I was called to give her up the moment I fell in love with her. I will never love again, but I am happy. Love does n't always mean you are happy.'' When I was called into the Delphi, I spoke with the Wyr. No one who the Wyr would be, just that they were summoned by the one before them. I was sat down and given the piece of paper. They told me I have five hours to decide. My question was strange. Would you rather have perfect health but no sex or have sex but die young. I chose perfect health. Unlike my mother, I knew who I had to look out for.
[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Elementary Edition	The woman who walked into Holmes's study was clearly a lady of high standing. She radiated a pale, delicate beauty that demanded attention. She wore a puffed out white skirt, a bright pink lace top, white gloves and a white bonnet. The pink around her mid section made for a stark contrast to the rest of her colourless attire. `` Good day Mr Holmes. My name is Anita Goodfree and I have need of your assistance.'' she said as she removed her gloves to reveal delicate fingers. Holmes took a long puff on his pipe before responding. `` Yes, I can see that you need my help Miss Goodfree. Or should I say Lady Blanchard?'' The woman pouted. `` What do you mean by that, Mr Holmes?'' `` If we are to have a working relationship, I suggest that we start by telling the truth.'' `` Good grief Holmes'' I interjected, almost choking on my brandy `` the lady has come for your assistance, not your accusations.'' `` It is not an accusation if I know it to be the truth, Watson. At that point it becomes a factual observation.'' The lady remained silent. `` Very well.'' Holmes said with a sigh. `` Both your skirt and your pannier are of a popular French style that has not yet made it's way to London. Your perfume is also a tad risque for local taste. You wear a wedding ring. It is a faux gold, designed to give the impression of splendor but it is nothing more than cheap dyed metal. You are composed now but I can see that was not the case recently. Your makeup does not disguise the black rings under your eyes caused by a severe lack of sleep. Salt crystals are visible on your cheek from tears dried only an hour or so ago. This tells me you have recently lost something very precious. Dried flowers decorate your bonnet. The top middle flowers has, at some point, been scrunched up by a very small hand. You have lost your baby. You hide your accent well Madame, but I would be a poor detective if I did not read the international papers. The Blanchards. A once wealthy French aristocratic family going through very hard times. Your baby was taken from the nursery. The doors and windows were locked. The nurse inside fell asleep during the babies nap time. When she awoke, the doors and windows were still locked but the baby was gone.'' Good god, he had done it again. The ladies demeanour cracked as soon as he stopped speaking and she began to weep. `` Yes, you are right Mr Holmes. You are as clever as I have heard. I have made the right decision to come to you. Please come back to France with me and see what you can find. I can pay you well.'' Holmes chewed on his pipe for a while as he considered. `` I do n't believe you can afford to'pay me well', but money does not concern me. Your pusillanimous husband does not deserve my help. He cowers at home, ignoring the fact that his only child has vanished, whilst you make the long and somewhat dangerous journey to England alone. `` He chewed his pipe again and mused silently for a moment. `` For you, and for your daughter, I accept. However, Doctor Watson must be allowed to join me. I will have need of his assistance.'' -- -- - My short attempt at a Holmes story in honour of Mr Conan Doyle's birthday.
[ WP ] Someone walks by your table and drops a folded napkin in front of you , trying to be discreet . It is a note saying , `` Get out now . While you still can . ''	Happiest day of my life, Ryan kept telling himself. Over and over, he repeated the five words like mantra hoping eventually it would sink in and he would feel the emotion that should have paired with the smile on his face. He did an alright job until the note distracted him. He could n't even remember who of the three hundred and fifty guests was responsible. After kissing his new bride's cheek, one of those guests had taken Ryan's hand and pressed the napkin to his palm. All the while, Ryan had been thinking about his oddly steady heartbeat, his dry palms, his even breaths. No cold feet had slowed him to the aisle. Instead, he had been dealing with a slow, creeping apathy for months. Worse than irritation or even hatred, Ryan felt indifference. That napkin rustled against his skin though the person who delivered it was long gone. A note of well wishes, he thought, for the happiest day of my life. He hugged a second cousin, an elderly aunt. Advice, he thought, for how to make my marriage as joyous as this day, the happiest day of my life. He shook an ex-girlfriend's hand and told himself, it's an apology for not bringing a present on this, the happiest day of my life. Finally, curiosity the first emotion in months to break through his crushing indifference, Ryan made excuse after excuse and snuck off to the men's room. Sitting on the toilet seat, stall door locked ahead of him, he unfolded the napkin. There in strong, dark handwriting read, `` Get out now. While you still can.'' Ryan stared down at the scrawl of works and swallowed hard against a sudden knot of tears.
[ CC ] First time to give writing a real shot . This is my first chapter about Pete , a high school bully . This chapter was written to give a brief idea about Pete before going into details later on . I would appreciate your critique !	Hey, first congrats on deciding to give writing a shot. It ’ s not easy and takes a lot of practice. I ’ m not what you ’ d call an expert so feel free to take my advice with a grain of salt. First, grammar and such: You switch back and forth between past and present tense throughout the story ( shuffled, heart was pumping hate, Pete shoots, scrambles, Pete grabbed, Pete snatches, He was at peace, etc. ) which is distracting and can take your reader out of the story. “ He was at peace, he felt like snow. ” Who is he? I assume it is Pete, but my first thought for some reason was that it was Anthony. Second, this is a typical problem with first time writers and this still doesn ’ t come 100 % naturally to me, but there is a lot of tell and little show. I ’ m sure you ’ ve heard of this before but the first thing a new writer needs to learn is how to show something to the reader rather than tell them. For example, “ He evened out the folded grocery list his sobbing mother had drunkenly dictated to him, subsequent to his father ’ s regular beatings. ” You are telling us that: a ) he folded the list b ) his mother gave it to him c ) his mother was crying d ) she was drunk e ) his father beats his mother. Then in “ His heart was pumping hate, his blood was boiling with rage, he did not fathom why, and he did not really care. ” You tell us he is angry and pumping with hate. Obviously this is a natural reaction to thinking about his father beating his mother. What you could do, in terms of show rather than tell is something like the Pete grips the list in his hand tightly, crumpling it, ( which is something you would do when you ’ re angry ) as his mind drifts back to this morning. Then you could describe the scene that shows his father hit his mother or a scene where his mother, holding a bag of frozen peas over her black eye hands him the list and while slurring her words ( to show she ’ s drunk ) tells him “ You ’ re father didn ’ t mean it. ” or “ It was my fault ” or something else that is common statement made by woman of domestic abuse. Third, I think you might want to consider playing with the readers emotions a little bit more. For example, maybe consider changing the order of these paragraphs. So as it is currently, first paragraph, wow we feel bad for this kid, he has it rough, etc etc. Second paragraph, we start to glaze over the fight in general and although I feel bad slightly for Anthony, I currently identify with Pete more ( since we ’ ve been reading about him first and know his pain ) and know that he is doing it because he needs the money for his alcoholic abused mom. However if you were to change the paragraphs and start with the fight, the reader sees Pete as the bad guy, wow what an asshole, etc, but then we find out why he bullies because of his broken home and now the reader feels like we wrongly judged Pete, which creates a ton more sympathy for the character and we ’ ll now start to root for Pete even more ( although by showing he has good in him you are making a promise to the reader that we can find more good in him – I assume that ’ s something you are going for vs. a protagonist who is a bad guy like Walt in Breaking Bad ). All around good though. You have some good characterization around Pete and it ’ s cool that we can see why Pete is the bully that he is and this will allow the reader to sympathize with Pete even though he beats up the other kid. A good technique for more of this characterization would be try writing the fight scene from Anthony ’ s point of view, who doesn ’ t know that Pete is the child of a messed family etc and so probably hates Pete. Seeing different scenes from different POVs helps you decide how you want the reader to feel. If you are really interested in writing there are some good writing podcasts, online lectures, etc you might want to check. Brandon Sanderson is a good resource for this and his lectures at BYU are all available online for free. https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=CbL-84SkT4Q http: //www.writingexcuses.com/season001/ Hope that helps! EDIT: Formatting
[ WP ] It 's exam day in Superhero Academy . Usually , tests are done in special rooms that nullify powers . But there 's been a blackout , and you , the proctor , must stop a bunch of superpowered kids from cheating .	They call me Old Man Proctor. I've been working for this school since it was founded. I'm also the reason they changed how tenure works, since it did n't use to account for immortality. That being said, for the longest time I've proved absolutely essential to this school, and it's only been in the past few decades that talk has started cropping up about just what good an old fossil like me is doing overseeing all the tests, and doing little else. They do n't quite know what I do to prevent cheating, since I just seem to nap in the testing room whenever there's a test going on. They do n't know what I do. Mostly it's true that I do nothing. But then there's those rare instances when a power outage happens, and soon everyone very clearly remembers. At least until the next full rotation of staff comes in. I remember the first test blackout I oversaw. Must have been... oh, going on 25 years now. They'd just installed new null-zone technology, and after using it in detention halls, adding it to the testing center was the obvious next step. Officially the blackout happened because of a generator malfunction. Unofficially? I'm pretty sure one of the little shits spent his time planning out a sabotage when he should have been studying. I wo n't name names but, we all know who turned supervillain a few years later. Besides, our IT guy was brilliant then - you know, an aneurysm level genius, and in his prime. I do n't think he would have messed up, he probably fessed up because he knew what that kid would do to him of he did n't. I felt the blackout hit when something disturbed my rest. A lot of somethings. The kids looked up to see me fully alert, watching the lot of them. So much for my beauty sleep, time to get to work. The smartass at the front of class was the first to act, go figure. Tried to sneak a peak at the brainiacs paper two rows behind him. He's so used to moving faster than the human eye can see. The look on his face, though, when he found himself sprinting full out but moving like molasses... that's what I live for. `` Going somewhere, Jason?'' I asked. Everyone looked at him. He turned beet red and shook his head. `` Good. Take a seat.'' Defeated, he sat back down and finished his test in a flash, resigning himself to another C. A telekinetic thought he could sneak a notecard out of his bag without my noticing. Pulled a girl's hair on the opposite side of the room as a distraction. Clever, but no good. I was up and snatching the card from the air before she'd finished her yelp. Well, it was more like a siren's screech, but you get the idea. `` Something the matter, Susan?'' I asked her, eyes locked on the student in front of me. `` See me after the test and I'll make a report of it. The rest of you, back to work.'' It must have been a difficult test. There were two familiars, a ghost, and a spirit animal hovering over the oblivious brainiac's head. Grabbing my bag from the front of class, I grabbed them and stuffed them into it. Then pausing, I pulled a locust out of his ear and added it to my collection. `` You'll get these back once the test is done.'' By this point most of the class was too terrified of me to try anything else. But smelling brimstone, I quick walked over to the time traveler and snatched the graded exam as it fell out of the air in front of him. I stuffed it in my bag, careful not to look at it. `` You idiot!'' I shouted, and smacked him over the head. `` Ontological parodoxes are no joke! I've seen too many kids die from them already. Think next time!'' Things were a little out if hand, so went to the front of the class. `` A moment, students? As superheroes in training it's perfectly natural for you want to test the limits, but now you're testing my patience. If I catch one more student cheating intentionally, you're all failing this test. That is all.'' Things went better after that. A couple telepaths were still wandering into other classmate's minds looking for answers, but it was n't intentional. I made sure all they saw in there was gibberish. A couple students noticed they could n't read the clock any more to see how much time they had left. I told them to take as much time as they needed. The lights were still out, flipping the switch made little difference. It was five minutes before time was over when the null-zone field reactivated, along with everything else. All the kids awoke with a start, having nodded off at some point, their tests all filled out. I joined them five minutes later when the bell rang. `` Class dismissed,'' I said through a yawn. The students silently gathered their things and sidled out into the hall, processing what they'd just gone through. Only one student stuck around, eyeing me closely as I shuffled down the rows collecting the tests. `` That was really something,'' he said, `` the way you put us all in a trance like that.'' I said nothing. `` It's funny though, the way you were moving then. The way you're moving now... you know, I've never seen you anywhere outside this room before. Can you even leave this place? Or are you stuck here?'' I collected the last test and switched the null field off. `` The test is over,'' I said. `` You can go now'' He smirked and gathered up his things, moving with all deliberateness. As he was about to leave I put a hand on his shoulder. `` I know your kind,'' I said to him. `` You want to test me, and that's fine. But I'm old. Much too old to care about any mischief you may have planned. So here's the deal: do n't cheat on your tests in here, and you'll never have to worry about just how powerful I am. Deal?'' He stared at me. I did n't break eye contact. He shrugged and looked away. `` Have a good day now,'' I said with forced cheer. I shut the door behind him, wearier than I'd felt in decades, and perhaps a little worried about what was still to come.
[ WP ] You discover that there is a database on the Internet that contains video files depicting the last two minutes of each person 's life . When you try to find yours , you realize that there is no entry for you .	I discovered the website by clicking on a link on an email I received. The email was titled `` Millions of videos, 2 min free previews, blondes, redheads, all ages included!!! Secret videos of everyone you know and want to know inside!!'' I figured there was no harm in following the link, if only out of curiosity. Yup, nothing but sheer curiosity. In any case, my computer was protected by the latest in antivirus software and I had the most recent patches to Internet Explorer installed. Damnit, it was another bait-and-switch. Again. I ought to have guessed from the preview thumbnails, which were strangely aligned to a more elderly demographic. I thought it was a cookies issue. Was this a new sort of snuff website? All the 2 minute previews showed were people dying. Of heart attacks, on the surgical table, in their sleep, in car crashes... All manners of strange and unusual deaths were documented and indexed under various search labels. It got stranger when I selected `` My Location!!'' from the drop-down search options. The search list was repopulated, and immediately I could tell something unusual was at work. I could recognize some of the locations in the preview thumbnails. There was a video of a recent fatal car crash that happened two blocks away. Another video depicted a failed mugging from about two decades back. Curiously, there was an old black/white GIF of a laborer dying in a construction accident. But one thing was clear- it happened somewhere near me. Intrigued, I decide to go one step further- I clicked on `` Facebook Integration''. I thought that there would be no search results, since all my friends were still alive- to my knowledge- but when the search returned over a thousand hits, I knew I had stumbled across something great. I had discovered a database which stored videos depicting the last two minutes of each person's life. Then the question struck me- what about myself? How would I die? Without much hesitation I entered my own name into the search box, with the various search filters to remove others of the same name. There were no hits. Perhaps the filters were too strict. I relaxed the filters. No hits again. I performed one more search, this time with no filters. A few tens of search results were returned. Strangely, none of them were me. Where was I? I reviewed all the search results, this time searching more closely for a resemblance. Nothing. What did this mean? Was I... could I be... immortal? A sense of glee welled up inside me. It was exactly then that a massive message box popped up in the middle of the screen. `` Congratulations for being the 1000,000,000th visitor!!! You have WON a FREE privacy protection package!!! LIFETIME protection, GUARANTEED!!!''
[ WP ] Pick a simple , everyday act and dramatize it	Steam filled the room, my face freshly born into the world after visiting that little haven, still dripping with wetness; shampoo bubbles clinging to my whiskers. The water sat in the sink, its stillness almost haunting. After a quick gaze at my reflection, instinct kicked in, and I began flicking my blade with smooth, even strokes across the canvas. I was the maestro and my razor was the baton. Orchestrating a masterpiece, the scrapes and groans of the strop brought the edge to a sharpness that could cut through the very silence that enveloped the room. I set the freshly stropped razor aside, and grabbed hold of the bulbous brush that sat in the water. With a hard shake, the brush came to life, spitting out whatever extra moisture it had in it. It awoke to the same cruel fate that it does every day, a vigorous beating. I crushed the soft bristles into the puck of soap and began to whip. Like magic, the soap began to reveal its true form. A heavy foam began to arise from the puck, thick with the scent of eucalyptus and menthol. The brush began to slack, the lather was n't full enough, so I drowned the brush. With another hard snap, the brush was back to work, and the lather blossomed beautifully. The hard life of the brush was almost over, it was time for its final task. Gently, every bristle met my face, waking every single whisker with each swirl around my cheeks. I gazed again at my reflection, this time a dense beard of froth covered me. I picked the razor up again, drawing back my skin in preparation for the purge of my facial hair. The blade grit its teeth as it bit into my stubble, drawing downwards in sharp yet tactful passes. There is a dance between the blade and I, with me taking lead and my partner following everything with absolute grace. But then, a stumble. The fault of the lead had led to a misstep. Another gaze into the water revealed the quarter-beard that was left on my face that was no longer white but instead a deep crimson. A panic. Everything began to happen much more quickly. The stillness of the water was broken. I needed its help. Frantically, I splashed the water into what was left of my magical beard washing it away, but its scent still lingered. I looked to my right, and grabbed the styptic pencil that sat obediently on the shelf, waiting to fulfill its duty. Much more collected then previously, I began to run the pencil across my fresh wound, wincing at the sharp sting reminding me of my mistake. The blood cleared, and it was time for the brush to come to life once more, as the magic beard was needed to rid my actual one. My partner forgave me, and we began our number once more. This time, I stepped much more cautiously, knowing that the jawline was treacherous territory. With finesse, I swept the blade along what was left of my stubble. Our dance was over, and my blade needed a shower. Once more, the stillness of the water was broken, as the blade pierced the surface and rinsed the bits of hair and cream from its edge. The blade and the brush were finished for the day, and rested in their stands, waiting for the next day, prepared to battle my facial hair once more. I began to drain the water, and rinsed my face with the ice-cold liquid that tumbled out of the faucet. I peered into the mirror, asking it to give me a spot check to make sure my blade and I covered all of the steps in our dance. After the verdict was given, I splashed my face with the Pinaud Clubman aftershave that watched the entire routine. It rewarded me with another sting, one that was far less malicious than the styptic pencil gave me. I dabbed my now silk-smooth face dry, and gazed once more into the mirror. No longer was there a shadow sitting on my cheeks, but instead the bright smile of a man ready to take on the world again.
[ EU ] Batman snaps , kills the Joker and establishes a reign of terror over Gotham . It 's up to Batman 's next biggest villans to stop him .	`` You know,'' Ivy started, stroking the purring ball of fur snuggled in her arms. `` I always knew you were a crazy cat lady, Selina but this time you've lost it.'' `` Coming from the woman who treats plants better than she does people.'' I said from my spot at the windowsill. Ivy looked up at me with a sad expression and I glanced away, observing the room instead. Her small apartment looked more like a greenhouse than a living area. Every wall had vines tracing up and down and potted flowers bloomed throughout. I had seen it all before, but I did n't want to meet her gaze right that moment. `` He's gone, Selina. When are you going to accept that?'' My nails dug into the palms of my hand hard enough for them to bleed. `` I'm not going to accept that, Ivy. There's no way he's lost to me. No way.'' Ivy made an unintelligible sound of frustration. `` Wake up already. I know you've been gone a while but the Joker, Freeze, Penguin and even Bane are already dead. And the Justice League is afraid. Hell, I'm afraid.'' `` Something bad happened,'' I said. `` But I can bring him back.'' `` What did it? In three years no one has figured out what made him cross the line.'' My hand unconsciously drifted across my stomach, remembering. `` I already sent out an invitation.'' I said, changing the subject and reaching into my pocket. `` What kind of invitation?'' A light toss sent the phone across the room. Vines dropped from the ceiling to catch it and Ivy repositioned the black cat as she reached out for it. `` Password is catz.'' I said. `` With a Z.'' `` Figures.'' She mumbled, tapping the screen. As soon as it was unlocked the video started to play and her eyes went wide. `` You did n't, Selina. I did n't even think he was alive.'' `` Bruce keeps the man guarded like a president.'' `` Then how did you kidnap Alfred?'' `` I'm a thief. I take things. And kidnapping sounds worse than it is. He's just at my apartment drinking tea.'' `` You're crazy. He's going to kill you.'' `` Maybe.'' I said, looking out into the night, knowing that there were only a few hours between me and seeing him again. `` But I have to try.'' *** Lightning flashed across the sky and I sighed, knowing he was behind me. He had n't made a sound, the night was his. Yet he had also been mine and I knew him like no one else. At least I thought I did. `` Where is he, Selina?'' His voice rumbled like a storm cloud and I shivered in the warm rain. It was still familiar. `` Safe.'' I said, turning to face him. There was no more gray in his costume, it was all black. If not for the glowing eyes he would've been invisible against the wall he leaned on. I knew it was for my benefit that he was even letting himself be seen. `` Do n't make me take him from you.'' `` You need to get a grip Bruce. None of this is you. Everyone in the city is afraid. What happened to-'' `` The city is safe!'' He yelled and I jumped in surprise. I'd never seen him lose his cool so quickly. `` Safer than it ever was when those madmen were running around.'' `` At what cost?'' I asked. `` You ca n't keep this up Bruce. Sources tell me you barely even sleep anymore and the morgue is filling up faster than the prison.'' `` You mean Alfred.'' `` I do, he loves you Bruce. I love you. We want you to come back to us, leave the Bat behind.'' There was a heavy silence between us, filled by the falling rain. `` You left, Selina.'' He said finally. `` Now you have the nerve to come back and tell me this?'' My throat constricted and I turned back to the skyline, unable to look at him in that moment. Memories assaulted me with enough strength to put me on my knees. My stomach heavy, Bruce's smiling face whenever he felt the kicks, the laughter of a madman ringing out while I lay bleeding followed by the ragged scream of a man who had lost one thing too many. I cleared my throat best I could but my words still came out as a whisper. `` I could n't handle it, Bruce. It was n't fair to you and I hate myself for it but all I could do was run. Run from the sadness in your eyes, the pain of knowing what we had lost. I ran from the city itself, this place has taken everything from me. Even you.'' Silence answered me again and I spun, wondering if he had disappeared while my back was turned. Instead I came face to face with his huge form standing inches away from me. Mask covering whatever was going through his head. `` I know why you ran.'' He said, voice revealing nothing. `` And I took all of our pain out on this city. It deserved to bleed. It still does. Yet here you are.'' `` Here I am.'' I whispered. `` I've come back to you Bruce. I never should have left.'' `` Bruce died on the same night as our child, Selina. There's nothing left of him.'' I reached out slowly and put my hand against his chest. When he did n't move I wrapped my arms around him, not caring that I would n't be able to defend myself if he was too far gone. This was my only chance. `` I do n't believe you.'' I said into his chest. `` If Bruce is dead, then you can leave right now. Alfred will have already returned to the manor. But if any trace of you is still in there... hold me. That's all I ask.'' I do n't know how long I stood there, soaking up the rain. The man I had my arms around was like a statue, he barely breathed. Minutes passed before I felt him grab my shoulders to push me away. And I was glad for my own mask as my heart shattered once again. Except he did n't let go, he just stood there, holding me at arm's length. `` You ca n't leave again.'' He said. `` I wo n't. Never again.'' Then his arms pulled me forward and crushed me in a hug that I never wanted to end.
[ WP ] `` But ... if what you 're saying is true , then- ''	Nathan stood over Kenny. He was tapping his foot impatiently. Kenny was staring down at the table. He was trying to digest what he heard. They were in a safe room underground. Nathan had ushered Kenny down here without explanation. Only few people knew about this place, it was supposed to only be used in case of an apocalypse. Kenny knew this and that was part of his confusion. The other half of his confusion was the information he had learned. Nathan had said that they were n't safe above ground. That their friend was n't safe to be around. Kenny looked up at Nathan, `` But.. if what you're saying is true then..'' `` Yes Arik is..'' Nathan did n't have time to finish that sentence. Kenny followed Nathan's body with his eyes as he fell to the ground. He saw the knife sticking out of Nathan's back. He looked up directly into Arik's magnificent green eyes. `` That's right Kenny, I never really was on your side.'' -- Bonus: I challenge you to try and find the reference.
[ WP ] Iceland builds the first temple to Norse gods since Viking age . The gods of today 's major religions react .	Jesus turned to his father with a very dire expression on his face. `` Contact Zeus and Hades immediately.'' Jesus commanded of a nearby angel. `` Add Para Brahman, Budda, and... and Satan to that list as well.'' Jesus added. Taking a last look at his fathers worried expression, Jesus rushed off to gather more information. Hours later, a beam of pure white light descended toward earth from the heavens. Jesus had hoped to save his final resurrection for another time, however it seemed as though humanity needed him now more than ever. For if the Norse Gods were to be brought forth from their slumber, not even his father could stop them again. ( Just dipping my toes in the WP waters for the first time. )
[ WP ] Your genius friend created a time machine out of an old Ipod . How it works is simple . You play a song , and you 're immediately transported to the time and place that song was recorded . With a library of over 10,000 songs , you just accidentally hit `` Shuffle '' .	`` Are you ready? ``, asked Rob, smiling. How could he be so calm? `` I hope so'', I said, crossing my fingers. I was clutching an iPod in my palm, headphones plugged in and ready. This was no ordinary iPod though. Sure, it was dented and chipped, the screen was cracked in numerous areas and the buttons were a bit rusty, but that was owed to the fact that my friend Rob here, hacked at it way too many times. He had transformed the iPod to allow one to teleport through time and space. Do n't ask me how! Rob's just a genius. `` Can we go over this again? So, once I play a song, I will be teleported to the location and time of...''. I was interrupted by the most melodious sound. It was coming through the headphones. It must've malfunctioned. Confused, I looked at the screen. It read: SYMPHONY 40. The air around me was tearing into a portal now. `` So, how do I get back? You did n't tell me how to get back! ``, I shouted over the loud whirring. `` You just have to...'', his voice diminished as the portal engulfed me. Now only the symphony remained. In an instant, I was transported to the back of the most enormous theatre. On stage was a man in a trance, playing on the piano. The music from the headphones was only intensified by the piano. `` It worked! ``, I exclaimed. I got a few ugly stares from the balcony. Apologetically, I raised an arm. So it worked! Now, let's choose a more exciting destination. As I was browsing the iPod, a burly man dressed in red, with golden wingtips and white belt shouted at me in a language I did n't quite understand. If he catches up, I might not be able to get out of here, so I'd better start running. In all the hurry, I accidentally hit `` Shuffle''. The screen read: rec_001 I knew Rob was into phonetics. If this was one of his recordings, I'm surely going back home! I think this is what he was going to tell me when he was rudely interrupted by the time warp. There was almost no sound coming from the headphones, save for a bit of static and a faint voice. `` When was this recorded, the 1900s? ``, I asked myself sarcastically. The guard was catching up now. `` Hurry up and warp, you stupid thing! ``, I said running as fast as I could. The portal could n't come any later. It engulfed me just as the guard was about to grab my shirt. As the Symphony died out, I emerged out the other side, still running. Unaware that I had teleported, I kept running and knocked over a young man. The force of the impact sent both of us over a table, which collapsed under our combined weight. I got up instantly and tried to pick the gentleman up, but he was out cold. He was still breathing, but there was a big gash on his forehead. On the floor was a cylinder and funnel setup. The funnel looked misshapen and the cylinder was dented. This must have been on the table before I knocked it over. `` What have I done! ``, I asked, feeling guilty. I had to figure out where I was and more importantly, `` WHEN'' I was. The room was completely carpetted, all four walls, floor, and ceiling. The door was locked. I fumbled around the room hoping to find something. Finally, I decided to search the gentleman. His suit pocket had a card. It read: T. A. Edison I could n't believe my eyes. That 1900s joke was not so funny now. Panicking, I picked up the iPod from the floor. The screen had a few more cracks, but I was relieved to see it functional. When I tried to browse, I realized to my horror that during the fall, the rusty buttons were jammed. I broke out into a cold sweat. Not only had I knocked out one of the most innovative men in all of history, but also destroyed my one ticket out of here. Just then, the recording completed playing. NOW PLAYING: Yellow [ London Concert ]. As the portal opened, I could hear the crowd chanting Chris Martin's name. I realized that THIS was my life now, dancing across time till the music stops...
[ WP ] In the near future , the secret to time travel has been discovered - in order to travel back into the past there needs to be a 'receiving station ' at the other end - explaining why nobody from the future has been observed up 'til now . The first such 'station ' is about to be completed .	The eyes of the solar system were upon us. In a few short minutes we were going to bring The Gateway online and mankind's greatest experiment would begin. No longer would we be bound by the shackles of time! For three hundred long years we and our machines had labored to construct the pulsing thirty mile diameter torus in orbit around Jupiter. The torus material itself was two and a half miles thick, the outer mile was armor. There to protect the fragile insides from anything the universe might throw at it. Over the last couple centuries we had developed newer and better armors, so in a way the torus was something like a ring shaped onion. Layer after layer of ever more strong defensive armor. At strategic points around the Gateway's outter surface stood weapons installations more powerful than any mankind had ever devised. In our fear that someone might accidentally, or worse, purposefully seek to damage the Gateway we made sure to the best of our abilities that this could not possibly come to pass. Even the slightest amount of damage to the inner workings of the torus would spell disaster for its workings. 18.51 cubic miles of solid state machinery and reactors, all perfectly crafted down to atom. Not a single nucleus out of place. While there were sextuplet redundancies in place, nobody wished for the system to need even one of them. You see, The Gateway could never be deactivated, not without destroying its creation irretrievably. At its heart, in that massive yawning opening was a wormhole, and not just any old wormhole. Many wormhole systems had been crafted before, and in fact a few were just barely visible if one were to be standing on the hull of the torus. Several between various planets and affluent points of interest in the solar system, a very few to the nearest stars, and still a few more, not able to be accessed while their carrier ships proceeded through the galaxy at high fractions of C, only to be opened once they arrive at their destinations. Great pain had to be taken to bend and shape space and time around those wormhole termini, as they had to be kept linked to our temporal reference frame. Early on in mankind's first steps into the universe, we had discovered how to construct wormholes, bridges between far off places. It had long been theorized they could be used to traverse time itself, but alas, this was not quite true. Massive energy spikes accompanied the arrival and departure of any massful object that sought to break the bounds of time through these wormholes. The shattered remains of Mars, that once so promising world with its young biosphere, remain mute testament to our foolishness. Over the years we had discovered ways to shield our devices against these violent energy releases, and in fact, to a point we had realized how to use them as sources of energy. However, it was always preferred to try to minimize the time differential, and new techniques and technologies had been devised to `` shield'' the tori from relativistic shift. A certain differential was of course unavoidable, and indeed desired even for its uses. How does The Gateway deal with these energies when it was designed, not to minimize the time differential, but to maximize it? Quite simple. Elegant even. We had long ago discovered how to beam energy through our wormholes, and it was only a matter of discovering the proper sink. Proxima Centauri was the answer. Through the use of many dozens of wormholes, we had crafted a clever web of bent space, using the red giant's mass for our own purposes. We had crafted a virtual wormhole, a wormhole with only a single dimension of space, and one end was sunk deep into the star. The energy released from time differential of The Gateway was diverted deep into our neighboring sun where it could do no great harm. The Gateway could now, in theory, accept many millions of tons of matter shifted through it across the span of thousands of years forward AND backward in time. The catch of course, as every schoolchild has been taught since the project began, is that the furthest back one can go is the first moment that the great torus began functioning. The longer the torus was active, the further forward and backward you could travel. THIS was why we could not risk anyone ever deactivating the machine, to do so would sever this highway and we would have to start anew. Unacceptable. I was shaken out of my reverie by the agitated grumblings of the man to my right. I chuckled a bit at him and asked what was wrong. `` One of my ships was out of position, asleep at the helm he was! I'll have him court martialed as soon as the opening ceremonies are complete!'' he growled out. Of course, the great torus was not alone in its defenses, the vast bulk of mankind's naval power was, and would forever more, be focused on its defense. If a ship were to drift even a mile out of its assigned travel corridor, it would be bracketed by more beam weapons and antimatter torpedoes than one could easily count. We were quite safe here in the command center. [ 1/2 ]
[ WP ] Serial killer has been monitoring his next victim 's movements for months . She is a loner and the perfect target . One day she disappears and nobody notices but him .	She was simply beautiful.There's no other way I could describe it. She also had a hard life. A runaway. I never knew why, and perhaps it was for the best. I remember seeing that pain in her eyes. No one should ever feel that much pain. No one should have to endure what she did. The world ignored her, and I just wanted to make her life better. She was an angel stuck in hell. I would see her day after day begging for change. Same street, same old cup and this ratty old teddy bear that never left her side. Sometimes she'd buy some food from the quarters she collected, while other times she'd surrender to her demons, so she can forget her demons. When she needed her escape she would go to an old beat up shack to chase away her demons. One night I had to feel what she felt. I needed to know what it was like, if for one night the pain she was living with, and how to escape it. I needed a glimpse into her soul. Heroin is a hell of a drug. I woke up in a ditch out of town, only god knows how I got there, or how long I was there. I get back to the city to find her, to watch over her. But she's nowhere to be found. Not on the street corner, not in that crap shack. I was so stupid! If I did n't surrender to her demons, I would n't have lost her! Of course no one missed her. No one knew her or cared for her. It was up to me to find her. To be her savior. To find the savage that took away my angel. I searched for weeks to no avail. I asked around, but no one knew or cared. People who might've known her only cared about finding their fix. One last desperate attempt. I go to the ditch to retrace my steps from that fateful night. Maybe if I go back to that ditch some of my memory will come back to me. Maybe I can retrace my steps and remember more of that fateful night. I go to the ditch hoping some clue pops back into my head. Funny how some things you remember, and some things you forget. I knew this was the spot I woke up at, but did n't see the little forest just a few feet away. I take a look at the tree line and I see something familiar. I rush over and to my horror I see it. Her raggedy old teddy bear. I tremble in fear but walk into the forest. My mind is numb and racing all at once. Total shock. It's coming back to me. I do n't want to walk further but I must. My brain just working in overdrive, overcome in mind numbing fear until I see her. And now I know. I am the savage that killed her. I am the Guardian Angel that has released her from hell. And for me this, this is only the beginning. ______________________________________________________ First crack at a WP. Be gentle!
[ WP ] It 's normal for parents to leave a list of rules for the babysitter . It 's also normal for some of those rules to be strange . What is n't normal is those rules being as ominous as these .	A cool autumn breeze brushed its delicate fingers over my neck. I stared long at the driveway in front of me, it's cracked asphalt painting a collection of lines across the surface. As I took steps towards the door, a sense of unease came over my body. The Munroes had always been a quiet bunch, so it was to our surprise when their eldest had knocked on our door asking for a favor. Our of town for a few days, she had said. They needed someone to look after their three year old son. I had no plans... With my sophomore year starting this week, I had no homework. I really had no reason to decline. So, I offered. What was a couple of days? My hand grabbed the ornate brass knocker and slammed it a total of three times. The door was met by Mr. Munroe, who welcomed me inside. A brief exchanging of cell phone numbers and they were on their way. There had been a small list of rules on the kitchen counter along with two twenties for food. Pizza, I thought to myself. The three year old, whose name was Sam, was sitting on the floor building what looked like a spaceship ( or maybe it was a car? ) Out of Lego. I sat down beside him and decided to test my creativity. Not much happened that evening, and it was getting late so I tucked the young one into his bed upstairs. After reading Sam a short story about goats, I walked down the stairs. I finally had some time to myself, and decided to read the list of rules that had been laid out. No smoking, no loud TV past 10... These all seemed like ordinary rules... Until I got to the bottom. The final rule on the list, written in Mr. Munroe's cursive black ink. `` Whatever you do, do n't let it inside.'' I squinted at the paper to make sure I had read this right... Do n't let what inside? Did the Munroe's have an outside cat I did not know about? About four hours had passed and it was soon approaching midnight. I had been lying on the couch, half watching half falling asleep to some muted reruns of Friends. Knock. The brass knocker resonated in my ears... A singular knock, and I was suddenly aware of how silent the entire house was. I was paralyzed... Not a singular muscle of my body moved... The only thing I could think of was the rule. My teenage mind started playing scenarios of horror movies, thinking of all the cruel and twisted ways I could be slashed my a Jason-esque masked killer. Knock. A second knock broke the silence, like a rock falling into a resting pond. A mix of fear and curiosity prompted me to stand up... My heart felt more at ease when I started to rationalize the situation. Maybe someone was lost? I started toward the door with hasty footsteps, and slowly lifted my eye towards the spying hole. The porch was empty. I resettled my position on the couch, and had just refocused my attention to the small black monitor in front of me when- Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. A series of four knocks in rapid succession made my pulse erratic. A period of a few minutes passed... I decided to once again get up. Again, nothing was at the door. Like clockwork, several minutes later came the next episode. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNO- The knocking was incessant, and I angrily started towards the door. Someone was pranking me, were n't they? I looked through the keyhole and saw nothing. I undid the slide lock on the door and open it wide, and shout `` this is n't funny! Leave before I call the police!''. A moment of silence, and I closed the door, making sure to lock it again. I turned around, flustered. Standing at the bottom of the stairs was IT. A tall, shapeless, void. It seemed to be a blank spot in my vision... I could n't make out any details. Do n't let it inside. My mind screamed those words over and over. The lights in the house all simultaneously diminished, plunging the house into a sheet of darkness one could only describe as complete. I screamed. Moments later the lights were back on, and everything was silent. I immediately started up the stairs. Sam. With trembling hands I pushed open his door... But Sam was nowhere to be seen. I started to panic, and ran down the stairs to see the front door, wide open. I had let it inside. I slipped my hand into my pocket, grabbed Mr. Munroe's number and hesitantly dialed.
[ WP ] On the edge of the tallest building , you find yourself contemplating if it 's still worth living . A sudden gust of wind pushes you to a fall only to find yourself with the ability to fly .	`` She left me,'' I mumbled `` She left me for that prick''. I ca n't remember the last time I felt so... sad. Is life worth living anymore? What's the point? She's gone... that means that there is no point. Life. Is n't worth living anymore. I stared blankly at the walls of the elevator while the tour guide attempted to get the attention of the noisy tourists. `` Welcome to the world-famous Empire State Building...'' he began. I tuned out everything else. All I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips... The Elevator suddenly came to a jolt, bringing me out of my memories. We had reached the top floor. I slipped away from the group and looked for a spot to climb up. No one was looking. No one cared that I was about to jump. I'm worthless. Even she thought so. The fence was high, but I managed to get up and over without any problems. No one noticed yet. I took a look out at the city. New York is beautiful... I'm going to miss it, I thought. There was a scream, then shouting. Oh now they notice me. Great. That's going to make things harder. `` HEY MAN. DUDE, LOOK AT ME!'' Someone shouted. I glanced over at the crowd. `` YOU DO N'T WANT TO DO THIS!'' shouted a man in a blue jacket. Well what did he know? She left me, for some prick.... `` Come on, do n't do it!'' chimed the crowd. I started to question whether it's a good idea... maybe... just maybe this was a sign. That things will get better. I turned around, trying to grab the fence. I was blasted by a sudden gust of wind. My hand missed the fence. My foot slipped. I lost my grip. I was falling, falling, falling... the sound of wind roared in my ears. My heart was racing. I was going to die. It'll all be over. And I would n't get to see Her for one last time. My gut wrenched, I thought I was going to be sick. There was a shooting pain in my shoulders. I screamed in pain. I touched my back... feathers? I looked, and I had wings. I did n't want to die. No. Not until I see her one more time. I try moving the wings that sprouted out of my back, they twitched. The ground was getting closer. I flex my back, a bigger twitch. I can see people walking on the sidewalk. It's either now, or I'm dead. I grunt, straining with all of my being to make them move. They extend, and I'm gliding. The adrenaline made my heart race and my hands tremble. I was flying.
[ WP ] You are a new aspiring villain/superhero trying to find an archnemesis . Please submit your resume , along with a short paragraph explaining why you are such an exceptional superhero/villain .	To whom it may concern; I am an up-and-coming villain here in Metro City, and I'm looking for my archnemesis. I would like my archnemesis to be on relatively the same level as me power-wise, so that we can go 50/50 on battle wins. Maybe 60/40, archnemesis favor. I'm willing to compromise. I do n't mind a newer superhero, but I would prefer one with an established stance in the community. I have attached a copy of my resume below. Thank you and have a pleasant day, Armoredo -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - Contact Information Armoredo 937 Cobalt Street Metro City, NY, 30593 418-399-1112 armoredo @ hotmail.com Education Scofield School of Engineering - Master's Degree in Chemical Engineering - Graduation Date: June 12, 2015 Work/Volunteer Experience Scofield Chemical Plant - Scofield, New Jersey - June 2014 - June 2015 Skills/Experience Chemical Engineer - I have a great understanding of chemicals and how they work, allowing me to create different concoctions on the fly that could be lethal to my nemesis. I also made a functional jetpack for my 5th grade science fair. Computer Literacy - I have an excellent understanding of computers, allowing me to access vital information about specific things, making me a formidable foe in the field of planning. Jeet Kune Do Black Belt - I have a black belt in Jeet Kune Do, the martial art/fight philosophy developed by Bruce Lee. Microsoft Excel Proficient - I am able to read and understand spreadsheets, as well as make my own. I have a good understanding of Microsoft Excel. Additional Notes I am very respectful. I was raised by parents that taught me respect is key, no matter what I do. So no matter what, I will never bring up your destroyed planet or dead parents. Due to my Microsoft Excel proficiency, I can make a spreadsheet detailing our meetups, similar to a batting average. I can also make lots of different chemical concoctions, which could be lethal for you or the citizens of this fine city. I am a very proficient fighter, and a very smart villain. I believe that together, my nemesis and I can become two of the greatest rivals in all of super history.
[ WP ] Heaven is similar to earth . The bodies of water , though , are black and lead to the abyss of Hell . While waiting years for your wife in Heaven , you are out at sea , passing time by fishing items from Hell for money . You reel in the locket you gave your wife that contains a picture of you two .	It's not like it was surprising. I mean, I knew as soon as they told me the rules what was going to happen. But it was n't pleasant. I suppose some part of me wanted to believe it was n't going to be like that. Once I saw the locket though, my heart sank. We were young when we fell in love. Old enough to know true love but young enough not to understand it. We spent every second we could together for years. We became so entwined that a life alone seemed impossible. But nothing lasts forever and one day it was over. To be entirely honest I was surprised when I arrived in Heaven. I did n't expect there to be an after life, and I certainly did n't expect to get into Heaven. I had done many things I was n't proud of, things I truly regretted. But they explained to me how it all worked. Even though I did n't believe in God, I had begged for forgiveness for my sins and done my best to be a good person. Then they told me about the serious rules, the rules that if broken would send you straight to Hell, regardless of everything else. Immediately I thought of my partner, the way we felt about each other, the promises we had made. Till death do us part was not enough, our love was beyond life and death. When I fished up that locket I knew in a heartbeat. My partner had committed an unforgivable sin. Suicide. The pain of being separated must have been unbearable. And in that same heartbeat I knew what I would do. Without even a second of thought I dived straight into the dark abyss. Clutching the locket tightly in my hand I descended into the nightmarish unknown, forgoing all the glory of Heaven. I knew only one thing, wherever my partner might go, I would follow, just as they had done for me.
[ WP ] A secretly immortal man is given a life sentence for a crime he did n't commit and now fears the discovery of his true nature is only a matter of time .	Flipped Switch Mild Twitch `` Take that you son of a bitch!'' Heart Beat Heart Beat Feet Rise Innumerable Eyes `` Why's he still alive?'' Indignation Inflamed `` Why have the Gods spared him!'' `` Maybe he really did n't do it...'' Innocence Invoked Confusion Escalates `` You must have set it up wrong!'' `` No! I did just as you said!'' Erroneous Debate `` Just fry him again dammit!'' Pain Pleasure Perverted Perception Porn Personified `` I can not die.'' `` He spoke!'' `` I can not fry.'' `` What the fuck!'' ( Dat cliffhanger lol ) ( Well that was my first try on something like this! Hopefully it goes over well. And is there a better way to format poems? I had trouble getting the spacing to be what I wanted... )
[ WP ] You are the loneliest whale in the world . Your voice is in the range of 52Hz , much higher than any other whales speak or can understand . You have roamed the oceans for decades completely alone . One day something returns your call . It is not a whale , but it is sending an urgent message .	I have drifted for many years. I follow this current and that one with no particular destination in mind. In this vast ocean of blue, I am alone. Though there are others of my kind, I could call out to them and they would not respond. They could n't hear me. I had begun to think that perhaps they were n't real. Or maybe I was n't real. ... It seemed, at the time that that day would be a day like any other. As I drifted along in my hopeless stupor, I heard a voice for the first time calling out from not too far away. It was n't a particularly beautiful voice but it was charming nonetheless. I followed it for just a pace or two when I discovered, to my surprise, two small fish in need of assistance. At last, I had a destination: a place called Sydney.
[ PI ] The Dragon and the Pearl - 2YR CONTEST ENTRY	He woke up, soaked to the skin. Before he even opened his eyes Adrian was nearly overcome with the twin sensations of water on his legs and gritty sand against his skin. I really enjoyed it. Flowed very nicely, early on as I posted the above part you write Soaked to the skin and then twin sensations against his skin. The use of Skin so close together seemed odd when reading it. Just be careful of spacing out same words so they are n't over crowded but it was beautifully written and a very fun read. I hope you did well on the contest.
[ WP ] Convicted criminals can choose to shorten their sentence . The only catch is the more it is shortened , the worse the conditions are where they are held . Describe a one night stay .	With prisons overfilling, conditions had to drop, there was no way we could afford it otherwise. The best way? Offer all those found guilty reduced sentences at the cost of worsened ( and usually cheaper ) conditions. Based on the fraction amount of time taken off you get put in with worse and worse inmates and prisoners. Once you hit a'super max' prison standard, anything beyond that was now officially considered that the prisoner was willingly giving up his basic -human- rights for the duration of his stay and were transported to a special facility. Each state had one such facility. It was all that was needed, people were n't there long after all. It's agreed that after you reduce your sentence by a tenth or more you lose -all- rights, including those given to animals. Torture is now not only legal, it's mandatory, it went from casual beatings to permanent scars and pain that would knock you unconscious only minutes after you've woken up. Generally that sort of information does n't get out to the media in much detail - however I know it all. I work there. Have done for ten years. Yet in all my time here, there have been only two guys and one woman in my facility who thought they were hard who took the'one night stay' approach ( the minimum sentence ). The first was a simple thief, he'd robbed a house but was caught robbing a small corner shop. Sentenced originally to fifteen years. He was an idiot - he was told what rights he'd lose multiple times, including those long term - including the main big one of'After reducing your sentence below a twentieth of its original amount, any damage done in your stay can legally be permanent.' Within the first hour he'd lost all his teeth, begging us to stop until he was coughing up too much blood to talk - he'd reduced his sentence by over 5000 days. He was going to feel them for far longer. After three hours, we were done with the acid treatment. I'll skip the rest... but he left a different man, his face was deformed, his medical bills to get everything fixed would be more than he'd ever earn in his lifetime. But by god I've never heard of him committing a crime again. It worked. The facility always did. The other man was a soldier stationed overseas gone rogue. He'd shot civilians - it claims he knew they were innocent but due to our shitty system he was only sentenced to a year on the basis of'They appeared to be a threat'. But I digress. Other than his psychotic tendencies, he was a good man - he wanted to get back home to his family. He shot innocent people considering them'terrorists' so we terrorized him. We doped him up on stuff so strong it makes minutes feel like hours. We then got in high quality actors, who pretended to be his kids -we then faked torturing -them- right in front of him, he was telling us we could kill him if we let them go within just three hours. Of course we threw in a little pain on his side too, but nothing permanent - the mental trauma would be more than enough. Especially given how we did n't tell them they were actors. He found that out only after he called his wife the moment he got out, crying. Of course he tried to sue us - but he'd been read his rights, he'd thought being ex-military he could handle it. He was wrong. We crack all of them. In fact I hear he's raised his kids so well one of them has been nominated for a Nobel Prize. Finally the lady. I was a little sad she'd made it to us. Her sentence had been pathetic - just three weeks for the shop-lifting repeatedly for her son. But reducing 21 days to 1... that was over a twentieth, she was n't going to receive hell, but it was n't pleasant. We double-checked when we heard about her and looked her up -we prepared special treatments for those who go for anything shorter than a week and made it to us-. She was a single mom struggling to make ends meet, she stole because she had to. She repeated the offense because her kids would n't make be able to live a decent life without it. She even claimed to take the one-day sentence just so she could get back to them as soon as possible. Our team argued on what to do with her for a good week before she arrived. We just needed to shake her up so she never came back, but she did n't deserve the sort of terror we inflicted on our other victi- I mean inmates. In the end we resorted to terrifying her, we stripped her naked and threatened to rape her -of course we did n't come even close to it, we knew she did n't deserve that- then after she realized the threats were idle she cursed at us until we moved onto the second bit of our plan. Simple, straight to the point. We took her hand, tied it to a table, pulled out a knife and asked her'You know what they used to do with thieves in some country's before the UN stepped in?'. She pleaded for mercy. But we took what we knew she deserved - the top 1 inch or so of her little finger. We left it bleeding and her in pain for the rest of her sentence. Our parting words as we left her for the night'If we ever see you again, we'll take the whole hand'. We'd all apologized to people after they left at some point. Usually just once or twice for the media - but we always said the same thing'They knew what they were getting into. I was just doing my job'. But her... I got in contact with her personally. Phoned her the next day at a time I knew she'd be likely just done with taking her kids to school. `` Hello? Look Frank, I've had a hell of a weekend, I ca n't come in for overtim-'' `` It's not Frank. It's... well you do n't know my name. I'm one of the Guards from the prison you went to. I just wanted to say I'm really sorry, if the law had required me to do less, I would have. `` There was a pause. I hung up. Assuming she would if I did n't -or worse yell at me. After all - everyone hates us, nobody likes being punished, and what we do is quite literally inhumane. I had the day off so I went about my business, not much to do - I was a single man at the time, nobody could stand my job, but it paid so well I could n't give it up - in a few short years, I'd have enough to buy a house outright, then I could get some savings and start a family without it. Five hours later I got a text -I assumed it was one of my colleagues from the facility-, I checked the number, did n't recognize it, then realized it was the woman I'd called. 'I did n't really expect an apology. I knew what I was getting into. I should have known better.' So surprised to get a reply, before I knew it I'd replied, thanking her for being understanding. Several texts and a couple of hours later, late in the evening she had some precious spare time and she called up and we got chatting. I helped her through the worse of the trauma -which was technically illegal, as it ruins the experience of the facility, but the fellow guards never told anyone else once they'd found out-. A week later I was in her City, and we were on a date. A year later we were an official couple. And... Ooh lets see... three days ago? I was married to her. I stretch my arms and yawn. `` Sweetheart get off the laptop and go to bed. It's our honeymoon. If the kids can wait a week your bloody auto-biography can wait too.'' I put it away and smiled at her with love. Thinking to myself'Our system works so well, it even made a good Man out of me'. The End.
[ WP ] How I Survived The Outbreak	He was only a kid. Not a day older than 20 when the world had gone to pot. He shivered and pulled his damp sweater in closer around his thin and lanky frame. It was a wonder he could keep any warmth at all for his size. He seemed hesitant for a moment as he glanced down into the street at her. Then, he began to speak quietly. 'I was on a train into the big city. I had heard news the previous day that the riots were getting worse and that they had cordoned off parts of it. In other words it was n't too late to join in. I was a little nervous about going looting for the first time ( there were rumors they had shot at people ) but I really wanted a new laptop for my birthday and my friend said he knew a foolproof way through the blockades. Those things were overpriced anyway and with the recent nationwide upheaval along with the attempts to overthrow the government I was n't likely to be able to save up for one with a job any time soon. If only I had paid more attention. As the train pulled into the underground station I had butterflies in my stomach. `` This is it'' said my friend and we both pulled our hoods over our faces, grabbed our backpacks and jumped off the train ready to join the fun. As we walked toward the stairs with the rest of the passengers we heard a large crash and screaming. What luck, the riots had reached the station, no need to wait we thought. Whooping we pulled out our hammers and charged up the stairs ready to take on law enforcement and anyone else who got in our way. I yelled `` Cowabunga!'' and as we reached the top of the stairs and laid eyes on the entrance to the station we stopped and just froze. About a hundred yards in front of us was not a riot, but a bloodbath. We had agreed beforehand that if things got too ugly we'd pull out, but this was worse than ugly so we did n't know what to do. Several police and paramedics ran past us on the stairs, retreating from the people that were tearing their comrades apart like animals in front of the smashed sliding doors of the station where there were more running through. But these were n't normal people. They were psycho cannibals or something. They'd taken it too far, screaming at the top of their lungs as they tore into the flesh of the officers and civilians trying desperately to get out of the station. One officer was holding off three people ( including what appeared to be another officer ) as he backed towards us, trying to retreat but they took him down and buried their teeth in his face as he screamed at us for help. My friend, who normally hates cops, must have had a change of heart because he rushed in and started beating the psychos with his hammer but then he slipped and got dragged down as more of them joined the fight. There was so much blood everywhere. People, walls, faces, tables, the ground, all covered in it as the attack got worse. People were getting murdered everywhere. We had to get out. I ran to help my friend. I landed a blow on some idiot's face, got punched by some crazy bitch and then I went berserk, swinging wildly into the mob and tossing people aside to get to my friend. When I reached him he was dead. Most of his face had been torn off, his neck was mangled and he and the officer were in a pool of their blood. I shook him, but he was gone and BAM I got kicked in the side of the head. I sprawled off to the side and she was on me. The crazy bitch who had punched me before was now shrieking at me and trying to eat my arm. I smacked her square in the jaw but she did n't buckle in the slightest. She just kept staring at me with her bloodshot strung out eyes, screaming and trying to bite me. I grabbed my hammer and bashed the side of her head with it but it had no effect, she just kept tearing at me and shrieking at my face. I was in serious pain. I heard more screams behind me. I was terrified, none of my hits seemed to even rattle this girl, I was dropping my balls pretty fast. Then it hit me... This must be why the cops are afraid of them, they're fucking unstoppable... I got my leg under quick and gave her a swift knee in the side which toppled her off me just long enough for breaking free. Then I ran back down the stairs, which were now filled with the same scenes I'd seen at the entrance. People and officers getting torn apart by unnaturally strong freaks. Many of them screamed at me to save them as I ran past but I was too scared and selfish. I did n't think I could do anything to them so I just kept running. I never stopped since.' John set his jaw into a grimace and fell silent. Some of the group tried to hide their disgust at John for running away but I could see it plain as day. I had seen enough disgust in the past month to know it intimately. Hell, I was a little bit disgusted, but I understood. I had heard a lot of stories of survival from people I'd met lately ( many of whom were no longer alive or had abandoned the group ). Some of them had told stories of trying to save their families from hordes of the living dead. Some of them had told tales of'close shave' heroic rescues from shopping malls. A couple were former law enforcement and many of them had decided to join the fight to save the country early on and were technically still in it. However, we all had something in common with John. We were all cowering on the roof of a three story house in a small suburban neighborhood in the rain at night while terrifying creatures ran loose down below. We had all abandoned Trisha to save our own skins. Looking down into the street I could see her outline as it twitched. Soon she would become a monster and she might have her revenge on us when we tried to escape the next day. For now, though, we were safe on the roof and soon the looks of disgust would be directed at me as I told my story.
[ WP ] You are Death , and you ca n't figure out why everyone everywhere is scared of you .	It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it. Thousands of years ago, most mortals were okay with the idea of me visiting them and ripping their soul from the earth. Of course, they also were the ones who wanted to go fight each other with swords and spears, and some were tortured and mutilated ( some of the most unpleasant tickets I received ). In more modern times it seems as though everyone is keen on avoiding me, even though someday I'll get a ticket with their name on it. Sometimes I get to do it in a rather humane way: giving them an uncontrollably growing tumor, putting them in a coma, or messing about with their genes to create a defect. That way they know it's going to happen, but ca n't do anything about it. It's also really useful when I get a buildup of tickets, because then it gives me more time to get back to them. I have a theory that all of the technology the mortals have created is to either avoid me out of fear, or have me meet others of their kind faster than the should ( also out of fear ). Hospitals, doctors, specialists, chemical warfare, nuclear bombs, et cetera. They want to have their cake and eat it too. ( Who would n't? Cake is delicious. ) In the end though, I have the final say. Stalling someone's car on some train tracks, or giving them a heart attack during sex, or inspiring them to commit massacres ( really like having them do my work for me ) are just some of the wonderful ways I bring about the inevitable end the mortals' lives.
[ WP ] `` Please God , I 'll do anything ... '' you say . And God hears you ! Well , not THAT God . A god . And not a god you really want to owe a favor .	The rope was short; far too short for William to let go without sending both femurs into an impromptu meeting with his cerebral cortex, at least. `` Please, God, I'll do anything! Just do n't let me die like this!'' William exclaimed as he tried and failed to pull himself upwards to safety. What a shit day to double down on the Krispy Kreme. He had too much to live for, too much to lose! His father, the great Senator Garrett, had just gotten Will a job as a page at the White House. The White House! His arms grew heavy, all adrenaline spent. He closed his eyes and fell into the abyss. Nothing. He did n't fall, he did n't land. He relaxed his legs and his feet touched solid ground. William opened his eyes. `` Apophis answers your plea, mortal. You now serve the Lord of Chaos.'' William stood in a state of non-existence. Blackness... no, the absence of light, surrounded him; tore at his very being. Will found it quite unsettling. The kind of uncomfortable you only experience in middle school during a hernia exam. `` Uh... the Lord of... who now?'' From within the bowels of the darkness, a figure arose. Scaled skin that shone of gold over green. Not an emerald or lime, but the green of rot and decay. It reminded Will of the time his hip hop obsessed cousin wore a set of ill-fitting Grillz for a month and ended up with a gum infection. Apophis, the ancient god of Chaos and Darkness, loomed over William like a Hollywood Boulevard Transformer demanding a tip. Or, as Will realized, imposing from afar but far less impressive up close. `` Apophis! You know... Apep? Nemisis of Ra, bringer of destruction? The root of all evil! You know... in Egypt... a while back...'' said the mighty-ish god. William realized that the emptiness was n't quite as bleak as he had assumed at first. Perhaps his eyes had adjusted, finally. He was beginning to make out a room.'Wait... is this a Motel 6?' he thought to himself. Apophis sighed, `` Yes... it's a Motel 6. I uh... have n't had many followers in... a while. Only... one, really. But I get free rooms!'' `` Oh my God, It's Tom Bodett, is n't it?'' Thomas blurted out, `` I knew that guy was up to something! No one is that pleasant!'' `` Yea... it's Tom Bodett,'' said Apophis, defeated. `` But now, I have you.'' Suddenly, William was sure that Apophis was ten feet tall. The room faded away and the infinite nothing embraced him once more. The sad sight before him reformed into a creature of infinite power, power Will realized was the spiral of pure destruction itself. `` William Garrett, I have spared your life and now that life is in servitude to me. Congratulations on the internship, by the way... now, I'd like to talk to you a bit about a little thing called launch codes.''
[ WP ] The Journey Begins : The First Paragraphs Of An Epic story !	We wake to sorrow / the wreckage of tomorrow. The line echoes in your head as you ease yourself up against the windowsill to look out at the column of smoke. It's been three days now, and the looters look to have finally gone. Nothing remains but the bitter black smoke. You have n't gone outside yet. You probably wo n't today, either. Tomorrow, maybe, if it stays still. Maybe. Across the street, a three-legged dog hops down from the Madison's curb. Its eyes are red, its grizzled muzzle bloody. It stops, maybe sensing you. Its upper lip skins back in a snarl. Watching the window. You dare n't move. Hardly dare swallow the knot of thick spit that suddenly fills your mouth. Three legs or four, the dog is staring at you as proud and as fierce as the the king of forever. When it turns away after a minute or an hour, you realize you have n't breathed. This is the bright new future your degree gave you, then. This is why you sweated in sweltering classrooms learning trigonometry and biology and the history of underpants or whatever the fuck the system thought you needed to know. What you needed was AP Chainsaws. IED Shop. Ten hour run-and-hide drills in PE. Instead you got Sculpture, and Programming. You have three days of food left. Maybe four. And then you'll have no choice but to leave. To try to scratch a life out of the gutted corpse of the world. Yeah. Good luck with that, fat boy.
[ WP ] It 's 65 million years in the future . Humanity was wiped out by a meteor impact . A new species evolved and they have successfully cloned a human . You are that human .	Dinosaur! What the hell is a dinosaur doing in front of me?! A lone dinosaur stands in a soundproof glass container in front of me. What the hell? I ’ m in a room with a bunch of various containers each with animals within, some of them I recognize, some of them I don ’ t. All of a sudden, the door at the end of the aisle emits a bright flash of light receding quickly as it came. A lone creature stands in the former vacant spot. He is looking at some type of computer in his hand. He walks over to each of the containers and speaks, pauses for a few seconds and moves onto the next container. After 19 containers, he finally gets to me. All of a sudden, I hear a voice “ Are you hungry? ” I say yes and a small panel of food and water is dispensed at the bottom. The creature leaves but the voice continues and I answer the voice ’ s questions. What I found odd was that the other animals in the containers seemed also to be answering. Did they even have the capability of language? I kept mindlessly answering the questions until I realized. Wait… WHY THE FUCK AM I HERE? WHAT THE HELL IS THE CREATURE? WHERE AM I? WHY AM I STUCK HERE IN THIS GLASS TUBE? Suddenly, a small mist sprayed into the container and just as sudden as the panic came in, it died down and I continued to answer the voice ’ s questions. A holographic panel then pops up in front of my tube: Days Alive: 1.
[ WP ] In my line of work there is only blood .	In my line of work, there is only blood. Actually, I lied. Twice. I do n't work and there's a hell of a lot more than blood involved. That's the thing, you see. I lie. All the time. I lie in the morning, I lie in the evening—and if I am awake then I lie at night. In my line of work, there is blood, yes. There's also unemployment, dishonesty, theft, and heroin. My work is never done. I chase the dragon through the hardships of life and past the bodies of my fallen brothers. There will be no respite until my last breath escapes my mouth and I collapse in a heap onto the cold, bare floor.
[ WP ] `` The rain lashed against the ship ''	The face of each crew member was stoic, showing almost no emotion at all. They each knew exactly what they had to do: at least their hands did, their palms moved without thought like a symphony midway through their premiere concert. The Navy had taught them not music, but to breathe fear. They knew this was a bad one, but they worked together to maneuver the ship. `` Turn 30 degrees to port. Were going to take her head on.'' The crew doubted their captain's decision, but again their hand's took control before they had even fully processed the request. The small port hole at the bow of the ship was pelted continuously with rain. Each drop would land perfectly then quickly explode in all directions as the ship's momentum tore them apart. It was the dance that the orchestra played for. Between drops the crew could see the backdrop of stars. The crew was well accustomed to the scene: now the once beautiful darkness has become just another part of the night shift. At the rate of this storm, there would be no hope. The ship would deteriorate from the high winds of the storm. The entire crew knew this, but still they continued forward eyes locked onto the small window. The captain felt a connection with the sky that he had n't felt since the first night he looked out to the sky. At this moment he knew the storm would overtake the ship: he had failed. The storm would be over shortly, at least for the crew. As he slowly closed his eyes, he picked up a small radio and began to speak: `` This is Captain McCulough. We have drifted through a plasma storm near the Eastern Meteor Belt. Our shields are at 0 percent, and we are expecte-'' The storm cracked the hull it was a small puncture, but that's all it needed for all the oxygen to rush out. The room went dark. The ship continued to move forward, but now instead of moving through the backdrop it had become part of it.
[ WP ] A planet 's sea level changes drastically with the day and night cycle . When it 's night , the ocean raises up thousands of feet . When it 's day , not a drop of water can be seen .	James paddled his raft out to sea towards the setting sun. He glode past others who rode clunkier vessels that splashed at the water inefficiently. Many had already parked up, not daring to venture out any further. Looking back to shore, the town wall was now a faint hair line on the horizon. The main group was densely populated but left a passage for the seasoned professionals to get through. James powered through the gap, earning him respectful stares. He was forty kilometers from shore and the rafts had thinned considerably. Out this far, everyone recognized James. `` You're a crazy sunnofa bitch!'' one called out to him. James was feeling good and continued paddling a few hundred metres past the last forager. He finally stopped, earning him a good hour of rest under the darkening sky. It was nighttime and as the sea peeled away from the shore, the glow from the sea jewels dotted the dark floor like a starry sky. The lights were extinguished by the frantic foragers who quickly dug up and stashed the sparkling nodes before others could get at them. James used to be a part of that rat race, but he came from a family of successful sand runners and could afford to forage beyond the others. The glow of buried sea jewels rushed towards him as the sea drained. The raft his onshore team had built for him that day hit the sandy floor with a dull thud. Towards the horizon the jewels were clustered so tightly they lit the sky with a soft glow. James returned his attention to his job, he did not have to worry about competition, but he still had to hurry. He dug for the sparkly jewels, thrusting his hand into the mudlike sand, removing warm, egg sized gems. Most were lucky to get more than a single jewel. James filled his back pack, slung it over his shoulders and begun his return marathon. His sand shoes helped him dash across the wet floor, but with a heavy load, it was tough going. Just ten minutes into his run there was not a single jewel left between him and the shore yet, due to the ethereal glow from behind him, he could just make out the abandoned rafts that littered his path. Many will be washed to shore to be salvaged by collectors, others will be dashed against the town wall or lost to the sea. James grimaced every time he passed other runners. `` You better run for it,'' James warned them as he passed, knowing that he was talking to dead men. They could hear the clattering of his heavy load and knew he was a pro, they took his caution seriously as a result, but even with empty bags they would n't be able to keep up. James had made the run thousands of times. He knew how close to shore he needed to be when first signs of day break appeared over the town wall. Today he was n't quite far enough. Cursing himself, he dropped his bag. No longer sinking as far into the loose sand, he picked up the pace. It would still be close, he thought. The levee wall spread out before him, he did n't look back, he knew what he would see. Spectators clustered on top of the wall, cheering him on. Many came to see the tidal wave claim the lives of stragglers, and they were never disappointed. The levee wall was 100 metres high and James's legs burned with a sickening fire as he sprinted up the steep slope. Behind him he heard the roaring wave, the wave that would pelt him with discarded rafts, crushing him against the wall. The spectators all looked beyond James at the incoming tsunami. He put all his energy into a final burst. The wave struck, sending a thunderous collision resonating through the town. Haunted screams rang out from the crowd as people watched their loved ones plucked from the wall and flung back out to sea. James felt the spray on his back as he launched clear of the wall, collapsing on the ground, fighting for breath. His team came to his aid, looking relieved and then slightly annoyed. There would be no pay today, but that was the risk anyone in the foraging game took.
( WP ) Lucifer never fell , God just needed his most trusted archangel to claim the darkness so the real evil could not .	`` Please forgive me father.'' Those words, although whispered, seemed to slither across the monastary's intricate maze of hallways. In his hands the priest held what seemed to be bible. Written in gold was a word that appeared ancient, maybe of a lost language. Surprisingly the priest began to read the scripture even though the words he spoke were foreign to him. It recounted a story so secret that it had been hidden inside the monastery for hundreds of years. It had been found centuries ago by a monk who was buried with it after committing suicide. In it laid the details to what had truly transpired after the creation of life. The priest began convulsing and fell into a great sleep. He awoke in another world so foreign to him that he could do little to describe it. In front of him were what appeared to be a gate of sorts, and behind were what sounded like the cry of a million slaughtered animals. He began to cry uncontrollably as a sense of despair overwhelmed him. He was met with images so vulgar and terrifying that he tried yelling for help but no sound was made. A voice appeared, it sounded soft and attracted the priest immediately. `` You petty being. You cry and thrash around like the rest of them on earth, without a clue of what you've done. You fear me, and for that reason you are forsaken to stay on earth, you're a failed creation.'' The cries of a thousands seemed to pause. The entire landscape began to change and take form of what could only be described as paradise. `` I am Lucifer, the true heir to the heavens. Watch.'' The priest began to watch as this paradise began to fill with the souls of the living. He was watching the history of heaven! The paradise began to accommodate the souls of mortal men and its beauty began to degrade. The skies turned grey. The whisper and gossip of a thousand souls began to shake the heavens. A monster appeared that resembled a human in feathered garments. This human roared and began destroy the pillars of God's temples built for man to worship him. The air began to feel charged like it is before a violent storm. Trumpets blared and an angel appeared. In one hand the angel held a staff and in the other a book, the same book from the monastery. The souls of the living began to revolt as the angel began to proclaim what could only be the message made by God himself. A giant light appeared that temporarily blinded the priest. The landscape was incinerated. The souls of the living began to cry and the angel grew powerful. He punished them all eternally for disobeying God in heaven as they did on Earth. Lucifer spoke, `` See, it's simple. You fear me. God knows this. He created you, but needed me to destroy you.''
[ FF ] 60-150 words : A website appears containing every digital photo ever taken	No one knew where it came from, but everyone knew about it within hours of going online. Someone dropped a link to it on a message board, but they were anonymous, and no one knows who posted it. As people clicked in, they saw a simple interface of photos, and a search bar. While it was interesting at first, everyone started finding their own photos posted, even ones that they had deleted long before. People panicked, and tried to remove them from the site with no luck. Public outcry demanded that the site be taken down. Millions started wearing masks outside, and some even attacked individuals who took photos without permission. It didn ’ t take long for the government to block the website after that, but most still wondered where it came from. On the news, stories of the NSA leaks circulated with great attention, but nobody made the connection.
[ WP ] 4chan and Tumblr are warring dystopian nations .	> Be /b/tard in the year 2045 > The 4chan/Tumblr war is ogre. > Our forces have defeated the hordes of SJWs from invading our lands. > mfw no more Tumblrinas > everyone goes back to shitposting > lifeisgood.png > Without warning the sun is blot out and the boards are cast into darkness > anons look up in fear. > The hamplanet has returned to our holy lands and SJWs are beginning a second onslaught of feminism. > We run to moot to save us. > He is a skinned crucified corpse. > Anita Sarkeesian is wearing his flayed skin. > Her SJW mods begin a holocaust throughout the whole of 4chan. > Free speech is destroyed > anons are being banned left to right. > We can not fight back > We can not rebuild > 4chan is kill > Everyone begins leaving > Our victory was a lie. The mighty empire of 4chan was defeated by loudmouthed feminists. > We moved to 8chan. > I looked at my kingdom. I was finally there > To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air tfw no greentext
[ WP ] You are having a catch with your neighbor at their house , when you hear a scream and see smoke rising from behind your house . What happened ?	My younger sister Julia is the most aggravating female known to mankind. I personally think the sole purpose of her existence is to train my patience. Although, there was one time that she went too far. She was playing with a soccer ball inside the house, when she knows our mother would have a fit. She lost control of the ball and it went right into our mother's porcelain dining room cabinet, which fell over, causing all of its ’ contents to shatter. She blamed it all on me, and my mom banished me from the house for the day. I have learned over the years that whichever story my mother hears first will be the one she believes. Although this time I was too exasperated to make my case. I thought my sister would at least blame it on a rogue gust of wind; I did n't think she would use me as her excuse. I was outside playing kickball with my neighbor Rick, when I heard a huge crash come from my house. I looked over and saw an unusual amount of smoke billowing from behind my home. From my perspective, all it looked like was chimney smoke. I thought maybe my father had put another log on the fire, until I heard a scream. I started to run to the house to make sure no one was hurt. I realized that there was no smoke emanating from the chimney so I picked up my pace. I saw our jeep crashed into an enormous dead pine that we have been expecting to fall for months. Of course it had to be this tree, of all the perfectly healthy trees that could not have cared less about a car driving into their side, the jeep had to find the gigantic dead one. We did not feel like cutting it down because it was far enough away from the house that we were in no danger of the tree falling on us, but if you were to say, smash a car into it, then you should start to worry. The screams were growing louder as I reached the car, and I began to expect the worst. Now I was at a full sprint. I reached the driver's side and saw my sister, and with a rush of relief, as far as I could see she was not injured, although the same could not be said for the jeep. The hood was bent at a sharp 90° angle, and I could see sparks flying from the engine. I heard a creak come from the tree, which was not a pleasant sound. I tried to open the door, but felt my stomach drop; it was locked. I frantically thought of what possibilities I had. I could try to get the roof off. It was winter so we had the hardtop on which basically cancelled out that option. Hmmmm..... try to pick the lock? No, I did n't have any tools with me, and let ’ s be honest; I can ’ t pick a car lock. Windows are glass.... Before I even finished that thought I took a big rock from the ground and slammed the window with all my might and thankfully it shattered. I now had entry to the jeep, but it also ripped open my arm. My adrenaline was running so I did not feel any pain, although I knew the warm feeling spreading over my arm was not good. I looked at Rick, who was taking this all in with a look of shock on his face. I unlocked the jeep door and carried Julia out just as the pine tree cracked and fell, skinning my back, and smashing down on the jeep seat, where Julia was just sitting. I set her down in the grass just beyond where the tree fell, and checked her pulse with anticipation. Thankfully, there was still a rhythmic tapping, so I felt like I could breathe again. Then from all the stress of what had just happened and the effort it took to save my sister my eyes involuntarily shut, and everything went black. I woke up still on the ground, but Rick was sitting next to me along with the rest of my family. I felt extremely nauseated and I could barely move. I thought what had just happened was a dream, but the grim looks on everyone's faces told me otherwise. I looked at my arm, which was now bandaged up, but I still felt weak from all the blood I had lost. I also had a searing headache, which I added to my list of injuries. I probably got hit in the head with one of the falling branches. Suddenly Julia was looming over me with huge tears streaming down her cheeks. She hugged me and said `` thank you'' which was all it took to make me feel better. I looked at the fallen tree, and saw the jeep, or what looked like a carcass of the jeep. It felt like years ago, when she broke my mother's china. After I rested some more, Julia helped me back inside the house. I asked Julia what happened and she said she wanted to see if she could drive. I was too run down to even be angry. I agreed that I would tell our parents it was a rogue gust of wind, and a parking brake that wasn ’ t set, and she wouldn ’ t tell our parents about a fire I accidentally made in my forest… but that is another story for another time. Edit: Not sure what is happening with that first line there.
[ WP ] `` Burn them , '' a voice whispered from the darkness . `` Yesssss . Burn ! ''	Burn Them! `` No.'' BURN THEM! `` I said no.'' We have waited 15 years for this. 15 years of dealing with this shithole of a world, 15 years of living like mongrels! They ostracized us because of what we are. They made us into this. And yet, you still want to show them mercy?! `` Have you forgotten? We do not resort to such petty tricks. Burning a few men does nothing to the minds of the others. What we need... is something more memorable.'' You think setting a man on fire is not memorable? `` Simply killing a man does nothing. That sort of fear is impermanent. They may be scared of us for some time, but their judgement will overrule their fear. And then what do you think will happen? Do you think they will just sit down, and cower? No. Give them some credit; after all, we were created from them. We used to be one of them.'' Do n't think for a second that you could go back. They would never accept us. They still see us as they did before. `` You misunderstand.'' He walked over to the other end of the dilapidated hut. Most of the items inside were dirty and rusted, but he took no mind of them. He picked up a vial, and stared at it. A pale golden liquid shone inside. What is this? `` The fruit of 15 years.'' And this is supposed to help us? `` You have changed, my old friend. The past few years have warped you. You used to be more attentive, more discerning. But I have not changed. My drive has never faded. My patience never withered. I have waited, and toiled. While you did n't look.'' ... How? `` Silence is as golden as this liquid.'' I still fail to see how this is better than burning them. `` Fire is weak. Fire is small. It leaves no mark on a man's conscience or soul. Thus... we need something stronger than fire. Something infinitely more powerful.'' He paused for a second. `` Do you know why we are here?'' We've been here for 15 years. This was the only place we could find solitude. `` That is only partially correct.'' He stooped over a small patch of the dirt floor. He rubbed some of the dirt away, revealing a small hatch. What is this? `` Kindling.'' He slowly opened it. Below him, rushing water could be seen and heard. `` They have grown complacent. They thought they had peace. They thought nothing could hurt them.'' He uncorked the vial, and poured the contents into the water below. What are you doing?! `` Setting the fire, of course. You wished to see them burned? You'll get your wish. But so will I.'' He closed the hatch.
[ WP ] Write a story that ends with , `` The answer was water the entire time . ''	I woke up staring into the bright eye of God, and honestly, I thought I was dead. It wasn ’ t until about ten minutes later, when my head cleared up, that I realized it was just a lightbulb, and that I wasn ’ t in Heaven, but rather a damp concrete room. I tried my hardest to look around, but there were restraints on my ankles, wrists, and neck. If I wasn ’ t flat on my back, my stomach would've sank into my shoes. I don ’ t like being bound. There wasn ’ t a door I could see, and so I wondered how I got in here. Last thing I remembered was waking up, kissing my wife goodbye, and heading out for work. Though I could n't see anybody, I definitely wasn ’ t alone. Outside, voices were whispering to each other in hushed, anxious tones. Feet squeaked against the floor, and for some reason, I pictured a group of scientists clambering around a wall of monitors, eagerly gazing into the one that showed me. All I could do was let my head rest against the table. It was freezing, and I wished these people would've at least given me a cushion. Suddenly, there was a grinding sound -- rusted metal against rusted metal -- followed by a loud and sweeping whoosh. I braced because I didn ’ t know where the noise was coming from, or what it was. Then, from the ceiling, something dripped onto my head. It happened again, and again, and again. Each time it landed with a dull thud that made me wince. Whatever it was, it felt harmless. Just wet and a little cold. But what if it was some kind of experimental drug or something? That seemed ludicrous, but I ’ ve watched waaay too many movies, and I couldn ’ t stop thinking about those scientists. By the fiftieth time it happened, I threw that theory out the window. They wouldn ’ t have given me this many doses of a drug, right? It wasn ’ t until some splashed awkwardly and rolled into my mouth that I realized, with quite some horror, what it really was. Whoever was doing this wasn ’ t testing anything. They were torturing me. The answer was water the entire time. *** This story is n't my greatest, haha, but I had a fun time writing it! If you like this story, check out my sub! r/longhandwriter
[ WP ] Death and Life find out that they 're expecting .	... For it is so that One is Dark and One is Light. One reigns in endless uncertainty, mystery and nothingness. Where He is, the other one is n't. And One reigns in certainty, knowledge and endlessness. Her presence obliterates the other one. It is so that they represent two sides of existence, both essential lest the world as it was ceased to be. But then there was a third, the one to turn the wheel between the two. Time. From life there would be death, and from death, life would rise again. There was a time where the two were inseperable indeed, and so Life was inseminated with the seeds of death. And from the womb of life, an immortal soul was granted to mortal flesh. One, so much like his father, was he of blood, the man of red and earth. He takes life from the plants in the dirt and the animals of the forests, and so his gift was death. And from this death, he preserves life. In the timeless tongue of his father and mother, his name was Adam. And one, so much like her mother, was she of life, the one who lives. Her gift was to grant life from the seeds of Man. In the ancient tongue of her mother and father, her name was Eva. But both of them share two gifts, one from Life and one from Death. The gift of life, to live and see. To surround oneself in light, knowledge, certainty, and the eternal soul. And from Death, the gift of mortality. To be surrounded in powerlessness and uncertainty, and, slowly but surely... To End.
[ WP ] In 1945 , scientists working on the Manhattan Project conclusively proved that it was impossible to create an atomic bomb . As 1950 draws to a close , WWII finally comes to a close after a massive land invasion of Japan by the US . Write the history of 1950-2016 in a world without nuclear weapons .	The A-Bomb had failed. The numbers did n't work, the parts did n't fit, and none of the eggheads could figure out how to put them together. The greatest weapon man had ever imagined, just. Did n't. Work. So we went with our plan B. Plan B: the B-bomb. B, as in bat. It was such a simple and obvious idea in hindsight, really. The Japanese built their houses with wood, and we figured to burn them down. Start a good fire, and up in flames goes Tokyo. Or Hiroshima. Or Kyoto. The only questions was getting it started. And that's where the million-dollar idea came in. Where do bats sleep during the day? Under the eaves of buildings. Tie some timed incendiaries to them, and hundreds of urban development go up in smoke. Oh, sure, the environmentalists complained, but it's impressive how quickly they stop once they're accused of caring more about bat lives than human lives. So we sent that famous telegraph to the Japs, and when we did n't hear back, we dropped the first one on Hiroshima. Hiroshima had a higher death-toll than Dresden, than Tokyo, than any strategic bombing campaign done by any side to date. And when we still did n't hear back, we dropped another on Nagasaki. Their Emperor saw reason and surrendered unconditionally; it was obvious to us and them that we had more B-Bombs than they had cities, more bats than they had people. The Second World War came to its conclusion, and the Earth was split between us and the Soviets. Of course, the Soviets had something to say about our war-winning B-Bomb. Many things, in fact. Like, `` The Americans fight with dirty, blood-sucking animals, and also bats.'' Or, `` Fire can not burn a building made of strong, Soviet concrete.'' Or, their favorite, `` Cyka blyat.'' So we took it in stride as Americans always do, while quietly scheming our revenge. The answer was simple, really. All it took was to cook up a nasty strain of disease, aerosolize it really well, and send it up with the bats. The commies caught wind, of course, and our spies told us they tried developing ADBs ( Animal-Dispersed Bioweapons ) of their own. Our bioengineers told us their pigeons would n't be nearly as effective at dispersal as our Mexican Free-tailed bats, but seeing as nobody wanted to push them into demonstrating their finest Soviet bioweaponry, we could never be quite sure how advanced their ADW tech was. The end of the Soviet Union came like something out of a bad satire novel. On the eve of one of their test runs, one pigeon-keeper had a bit too much to drink, and left the door to the pigeon coop open. In a week, Moscow's population was decimated. In a month, the dropped the Curtain and dissolved. The metric for international power became measured by the ability to develop and maintain ADWs. Biologists studied anything with wings in an attempt to find better and more efficient vectors of distribution. The Mexican Free-tailed bat is entirely extinct in the wild and only exists in the captivity of US strategic weapons facilities, being the US's biggest military secret. All that, because of one dentist who decided to tie one small package to one small bat.
[ CW ] Write a short story meant for children riddled with as much innuendo as possible .	Sara had a very special toy. Of course, of all the kids in Sara's class wanted to play with her toy. It was a beautiful stuffed cat with soft fur that everyone wanted to pet. Sometimes Sara would sit her room and play with her cat all by herself but that got boring. `` I want to play with someone else,'' she said. `` It's more fun that way!'' So Sara went to her friend Bobby's house. `` Do you want to come over and play with me?'' she asked. Bobby nodded and said excitedly, `` Yes! I've been wanting to play all day!'' They ran up to Sara's room and she took out her cat and put it in front of Bobby. He petted it's head. `` It's so soft,'' he said. `` Yeah I play with it a lot. You can touch it if you want,'' she said. Bobby grabbed the cat and put it on his lap and began to pet its head. He'd seen the other girl's do this and he knew that there was a secret button under the neck that even Sara did n't know about. As soon as he pressed the button, the cat began to purr. `` What did you do?'' she said as she leaned forward. He pointed to the spot under the neck. `` It's a secret spot. Claire showed me. It makes the cat purr, see?'' He pressed the button again and the cat purred even louder. `` Wow!'' said Sara. `` I never would have found that on my own.'' But Bobby had another surprise. His babysitter, Zoe, had the same toy that she had brought last weekend. She would n't let him play with it but he saw her after he was supposed to be asleep. `` Watch,'' he said. He pressed the secret button under the stomach and the cat began to meow. Sara clapped in excitement. `` You're so good with my cat! You should come over every day!'' Bobby smiled. He was so happy to have made his new friend happy.
[ WP ] After a freak accident , you 've split into two versions of yourself . One good , the other evil . For some reason you two are able to cooperate quite easily .	It's so weird seeing yourself as a full body, instead of as a flat reflection. What makes it even stranger is it being your body in appearance, but it's a completely different version of your personality. Or should I say new personality. After the accident, my whole personality changed. In the past I was always the type of girl to think of the consequences of my actions. Now- now I just do n't give a shit if I hurt anyone or do anything wrong. Sometimes I even catch myself going out of my way to make sure I do something horrible. Sometimes I just want to hurt everyone just because I can. My other self though, she is the most genuine person I've ever met. I can tell when she will do simple little things to brighten someones day. She'd put her life on the line for a stranger in need of help. She puts everyone before herself, before she can ever be truly happy. We got a lot of money after the accident. Scientists trying to pay us to keep quiet about their mistakes. I should n't say trying because they have succeeded in getting us to make sure this never gets out. Money talks people, and it's telling me to shut up. I told my other self that I think we should use the money to buy things for us. I, I guess'we' now, were always considered poor, but with this money.. This money is going to give me- us everything we ever dreamed about. Of course she disagreed to this, saying we should give the money to help different causes. `` We do n't need anything but each other. We made it this far in life without each other, think of how much better it will be now that we have someone in this world to truly understand us.'' That's the bullshit line she gave me. Well actually now that I think about it, she may be right. When I was just me, all I wanted was for someone to really mean it when they said they understood my problems or just me in general. I bet if I asked her right now she would say that's all she ever wanted too. But I would never ask her, I do n't care about how she feels. I do n't care about anyone's feelings. I only care about myself. Actually, that's not entirely true. Yes, when I say I do n't care about anyone's feelings, I sincerely do n't. Deep down inside myself though, I do find the feeling of concern for how she is doing in this new life. It's obvious she puts me before anyone else as well. If she knows I'm up to no good, she'll warn me about the consequences to come. Oddly enough, I actually listen to her. In my new life I've come to despise all things good, except for her. Maybe it's because she is my good half so it's only me looking out for myself. There's good and evil in everyone so maybe the only reason we get along is because we balance each other out, like we did when we were a unified being.
Magic is Hereditary , but the child 's powers is the sum of his parents . Fire Witch + Sand Wizard= Glass magic [ WP ]	It had been 23 years. My grandmothers words always echoing in my head about those times. Before the Tridium. My grandfathers skin once glowed a bright red like the coals he used to keep up in the forge he ran. My grandmothers a soft green, it suited her well, she has always had a passion for life, that same passion passed on to my mother. My mother met my father when she was 15 when keeping the fruit stand while my grandmother walked the market. She told me his skin was a dark brown the color of the earth she worked with so often. He quickly became accustomed to the forge grandfather ran, being able to push precious metals up from the earth for working. This was all before the blight. My mother was 19 when her skin started to change, she lost that vibrant green quickly to be replaced a pale moonlight color. She along with my father and grandparents quickly lost their innate ability to summon their elements. The government sought help looking for a cure, any form of pure magic to stop the blight that had spread. The entire country quickly became infected. After magic had mixed to far the blight was formed and before they knew it each family's line was lost to the blight. One group came to the governments aid promising relief. The said they could find a cure but were lacking the resources. They said they were healers once a soft sunflower color. The government handed over all their resources and personnel, willing to do whatever it costs to save the people. One man, Hendrick took charge. My grandmother said he always looked familiar when she visited her home town. She remembers the day when he finally revealed who he was. By then the Tridium had been formed. Hendrick was the leader of a group of summoners, those of deep maroon skin, never defying the law and always worked within loopholes that he found. He explained that the only way to fix the blight was to find those who could still control magic and find where the power originated from. Thats when the containment camps began. Family was ripped from their home when the Tridium came. Quickly pushed to the nearest camp in Farthing my family was contained within the walls of the old forgotten city. Keepers created barricades around each exit only removing those that were next for the Emergence. My parents heard stories about the Emergence and the gruesome exploits the Tridium completed on those who were taken. One night my grandfather devised a plan with the a couple of the other blight-fallen families. My mother argued with him about his plan, stating it was folly but he knew better. He looked upon her with a soft expression telling her everything she already knew. She was with child and he would not let her risk that trapped behind these walls. My grandfather being a smith his entire life was a large man. As he ran to the side gate he threw himself on the keeper that just started his shift allowing for families to run. My father stopped to help him up but my grandfather shrugged him off telling him to run and keep my mother safe. My grandmother remembered looking back to see my grandfather struck with a large axe the keeper was holding. She cried out as my father pulled her along the dusty road into the night... I looked at the open area before me as i could see the flames in the distance. The Tridium was using the animated corpses of those who under went the Emergence to consume the residual magic that once populated the area. I turned my gaze the other direction trying to scan the hundreds of miles behind me, to the crag I left my parents and grandmother at. As I pulled my gaze down I looked upon my pale skin. Rotating my hands I could see the red glow pulse from my right palm and the sunflower yellow from my left. It had been 23 years.
[ WP ] A young child summons a demon , but they only want a friend .	I bent forward as Gus kicked the 55 gallon trashcan under me and clicked on the hair clippers. My teammates called me dumb for volunteering for shit like this. I guess I was curious what my head would look like shaved. He removed the plastic guard. “ Not that short, ” I said. “ Why not? ” asked Gus. “ Just shut up and put your head down. ” With smooth passes, he cleared my crown. Clumps of curly, red hair fell into the trashcan. “ Turn your head, ” he said. He folded my ear and came down the back of my neck. As he was cutting, he spoke over his shoulder to Victor about something. I looked up to see what they were talking about and—bzzzz—there went my eyebrow. “ Fuck, man. ” I felt where my eyebrow was. “ It looks good. Vic, don ’ t you think it looks good? ” asked Gus. “ Lift up your head, Ginger, let me see, ” said Victor. He was the tallest kid on the team, who already had hair on his chest, and he straightened up and looked me in the eye and said, “ Ginger, you ’ re dumb. ” After practice, under the steaming shower, I rubbed my head and felt the patches of hair left over. I was the class clown. The joker. Somebody to hate. I turned off the water and reached for my towel. It was gone, so I cupped my balls and splattered across the tile to the locker room, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror along the way, and puffing my chest out. “ Where ’ s my stuff? ” I demanded. “ What stuff? ” asked Gus. “ Why don ’ t you check the bathroom, ” asked Victor. So I did. The floor was covered in piss and I hopscotched from one tile to another. In the last stall, I found my underwear and shorts floating in the toilet, on top of which was a turd so long it stuck out of the water. “ Did you do it? ” I asked Gus back in the locker room. He quit drying himself and looked up. I was shivering, but tried to hide it. “ Go get it out, ” I said. “ Or what? ” he said. My fists clenched. My face got hot. “ All right, all right, I don ’ t want baby to cry, ” he said, going into the bathroom, reaching his hand into the shit-water, and pulling them out. “ These? ” he asked. “ Yeah. ” He chucked them at my face. I liked books until the day I walked home in soiled shit-water clothing. I ’ d hide books under my desk in class: Vonnegut, Salinger, C.S. Lewis. I said shit like, “ I feel infinite ” and “ Not I, said the little red hen. ” But that shit-water got under my skin. I stopped reading completely. Also that summer I had a growth spirt. The meanest, most severe one my doctor had ever seen. I signed up for a wresting camp. I practiced take-downs in my bedroom until me knees bled. When school started up again, I carried a water bottle around that said ‘ I eat babies ’ and kept my head shaved. Kids would bump into me in the hallway, and I ’ d put them in a headlock just for practice. When wrestling season came around, I saw Gus stretching out on the mats and walked up behind him and clapped him up in a bear hug. “ It ’ s good to see you, Gusy. How ’ ve you been? ” I squeezed. “ Who is that? Put me down, ” he said. “ Apologize first. ” “ For what? ” “ Everything. ” I flexed my chest muscles. “ I can ’ t—b—breathe, ” he squirmed. “ Let him go, ” said Victor. “ I want to hear him say it. ” “ All right. I ’ m sorry, ” he managed to get out. I dropped him. “ Shit. Ginger, ” he said, rubbing his arm. “ What kind of name is that anyway? Don ’ t call me that name anymore. My name ’ s Greg. Now who wants to be my partner? ” I asked. The team stepped back. That spring, my parents threw a pool party for my birthday. I was eager to show off my new physique to the girls in class, so I passed out invitations, even though it seemed childish. When the day of my party rolled around, I sat at a picnic table away from my mom and sister with a phone in my hand and my class telephone book open. I wouldn ’ t let my mom sit with me. I didn ’ t want her to hear my classmates. “ I ’ m can ’ t go. ” “ My mom won ’ t let me. ” “ I can ’ t swim, ” they said. I wanted them to say they had a deadly disease or something. When I got to the last name on the list, I stopped. Even the numbers looked mean, three sixes in a row. I dialed anyway. It ’ s funny the way we end up with the friends we do. I guess our own hell is better with others in it. Even the ones who come from a worse hell. “ Who ’ s this? ” the voice answered. “ It ’ s Greg. ” “ Greg? ” “ Yeah, Gus, it ’ s Greg. Did you get my invitation? ” “ No, ” he said. “ I must ’ ve put it in the wrong locker then, ” I said. “ I guess so. ” “ Well, I got a new Super Soaker. Want to see it? ” “ All right. ” And that's I met my best friend.
[ WP ] The prank video to end all prank videos	Lieutenant Hagerty had seen a lot of shit in his twenty five years of duty. All of the beats were shit, everything from petty traffic cases in the city to sordid gang homicides in South Central, but at least it was shit he understood. Shit that, no matter how asinine and shitty it was, at least had a clear M.O. This shit, however, transcended entirely beyond his comprehension. He scratched the graying hairs of his goatee, befuddled that he occupied the same room with who was quite possibly one of the most brilliant and moronic con men of the 21st Century. So it was only fitting that his limp, lifeless corpse was placed in none other than… “ Drawer 21, if I ’ m not mistaken? ” Hagerty bolted to the side, startled by Matthew Sobchak, the newest, youngest, and least experienced forensic technician on the force. “ Pretty sure that ’ s where we left your guy. ” Hagerty sighed in exasperation and followed Sobchak ’ s lead to the very end corner of the morgue. With each step he felt a palpable sense of anxious dread coursing through his veins, and Sobchak did little to placate his fears. “ Yep, this one ’ s probably the one, either him, or that decapitated third degree burn victim from that arson case last week. Both smelled pretty terrible, it ’ s an easy mix up. Blame Milligan, not me. ” “ Just shut up and open the goddamn drawer Sobchak. ” Hagerty muttered with a deadpan cadence, his nervous, jittery foot taps and the electric hum of the tungsten lights above loudening the otherwise void cacophonies of awkward silence. “ You okay Hagerty? ” “ Yeah Matt, just a little coffee jitters. Now you gon na open that drawer or not? ” Sobchak sighed and did just that. “ Here… ” He gradually pulled out the drawer, and following that gradually emerged a thick hairline of spiky blue hair, and following that gradually emerged a lanky white kid sleeping his eternal dirt nap in a bag, or, in other words, “... our criminal mastermind. ” Hagerty ’ s nervous dread morphed into an amused confusion. “ You sure this is the one? THIS little shit was the one who stirred up the shitstorm last night? ” “ Well, one of them. Word from Sergeant Howard is that two of the perps fled the scene after he called in for the 211, but obviously, they nailed the figurehead. Supposedly they ID ’ d our friend here as some real big YouTube star… something like a Shawn Paprika? That ring a bell to you? ” “ Nah… Howard got any leads on the rest of the douche squad? ” “ Nothing confirmed yet, but they believe that the thief was another known internet celebrity… SlyFlyAntoine, I think? Anyway sir, he used to be pretty infamous for stealing other videos and claiming them as his own for millions of views. Hard to believe he ’ d go from that to putting plastic explosives on bank vaults and, well, claiming millions of dollars as his own. ” “ Fuckin ’ Christ. ” “ There ’ s no confirmation he ’ s our man Hagerty, though if it is, he left some pretty telling breadcrumbs: a bottle of Adderal, cocaine residue, and a Tweet posted prior to the heist saying ‘ hashtag robbery prank gone wild gone sexual 2015 ’, with a crying laughing emoji at the end. ” “ Jesus Fuckin ’ Christ. ” “ I know. FBI contacts are filing a subpoena on his accounts as we speak. As for the getaway driver, there ’ s no leads, but rumor has it that a certain Christoph-er, Caleb maybe? Somebody affiliated with the channel, um, Prankskrieg, if I remember correctly? Probably not. But uh, anyway, this guy ’ s supposed to be a Grade-A deviant who gropes women and makes out with them under the pretense of a, quote-unquote, ‘ prank. ” “ Jesus H. Fuckin ’ Christ. ” “ I know sir, and that ’ s not all. We obviously can ’ t ask Sebastian Cayenne or Saul Oregano or whoever the hell our suspect is here about his motives, but three weeks ago he made a collaborative ‘ prank ’ video with some Vine stars where he reenacted an ISIS-style execution. ” “ The hell ’ s a Vine? ” “ Your guess is about as good as mine, sir. ” Hagerty didn ’ t understand this shit before, but he did now. Whichever site or network or channel it was, these people loved projecting their egomania, hubris, and sheer sociopathy for the world to see, and they took it to the logical extreme. He understood now, but that didn ’ t make it any less fucking moronic. “ What other evidence did you confiscate on the scene? ” “ Tons. A flak jacket, a suppressed Glock 19 handgun with two magazines of blank rounds, three smoke grenades, an iPhone 6S, one of the duffel bags of money he almost got away with, a motorcycle helmet with a GoPro mount, and the suspect ’ s alleged last words. ” “ Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth H. Fuckin ’ Christ, are you kidding me? Perfect, just fantastic. Kid ’ s got footage of an entire LAPD precinct stormin ’ the national bank for nothin ’? This asshole could go viral posthumously? That ’ s a first. ” “ Well, sometime before or after Seth Parsley here started supposedly yapping ‘ It ’ s just a prank bro! ’, Howard nailed a nine millimeter right between the lens, so I don ’ t know about that. He tried to goof at us, but uh, we goofed ‘ em good Lieutenant. We got the last laugh, right? ” Sobchak tried to force a smile, but Hagerty was, well, too haggard to reciprocate. Even though they stopped one of the suspects, the sheer pointlessness and stupidity of this endeavor left him numbed. All he had left to retort was this: “ Tell that to the presses. ”
[ WP ] After the event of some anomaly , 25 % of the population acquired superpowers . Describe the life of one of the powerless , and how the empowered affect his life .	The world has gone to shit. I used to be able to make decent money as a small time crook, used to be able to make it another day. Did some jobs now and then for some people. Now? Now those fools are everywhere. You want to make it today, you need counter anomaly equipment, and weapons. Big weapons. Best you can do as a small timer is become an information broker, as long as there are no readers around. Thought readers, that is. Shit. You can join a gang if you want, but they're more concerned with fighting the annos than making money. Honest work is n't even an option anymore. Us normals have been replaced. By annos or by robots built by the annos with enhanced brains. There's talk of normals becoming more and more like pets... something to be cared for. To be fed and clothed and smiled at as they go on with their meaningless lives. Thing is... a lot of people do n't want to live like that. There's already talk of resistance movements forming, with both normals and annos involved. Shit. The world's going to be at war. `` Pick a side and fight or die in a cage.'' is what they're saying. Better decide soon. Fight or put on a leash... shit. I guess that's a no-brainer.
[ WP ] Computer viruses can now be transmitted onto humans .	Knock knock. `` Do n't!'' I stop, hand on the knob. `` What?'' `` It's Frank, don ’ t open it!'' Knock knock. `` What's wrong with Frank? I ask my roommates. `` We do n't like Frank anymore?'' `` No, we like him, alright,'' Jessica tells me. `` But he's infected.'' `` Infected? '' `` Alpaca, do n't open that door.'' Knock knock. `` What, he's got a flu?'' The knob turns on my hand. `` Hey, it's open!'' Frank says, stepping in. `` How are you guys?'' In the living room, everyone's silent. Tom's got the joint halfway to his mouth, eyes locked on Frank. `` What's going on?'' I ask. `` Are you sick, Frank?'' `` Sick? No. I do n't feel sick,'' Frank tells me. `` Hey, you guys wan na watch some naked girls on the webcam?'' `` Frank's got malware, man,'' Tom says, shaking his head at me. `` We ca n't hang out with him. Not until he gets himself fixed.'' `` What are you guys talking about?'' Frank asks. `` Hey! Tom! I have a survey for you!'' `` Frank, go to the hospital, for the love of –'' `` Just answer these questions and I'll give you an iPad! Are you ready?'' `` You do n't have an iPad, Frank,'' Tom says. `` See, Alpaca? That's what we've –'' `` OH MY GOD!'' Frank stops, looking around the room, worried. `` OH. MY. GOD.'' `` What, Frank?'' Jessica asks, a note of impatience in her voice. `` YOU GUYS ARE ALL INFECTED! THERE HAS BEEN AN ATTACK! IT'S NOT ME, IT'S YOU!'' `` Stop, Frank, you –'' `` FOR REAL! WE GOT TA GET YOU SOME MEDICINE, I KNOW WHERE THEY SELL IT. IT'S THE SAME PLACE THEY HAVE HOT SINGLES IN OUR AREA, JUST –'' `` Frank,'' Tom gets up. `` Get out. Really. We like you, we do, but you're a pain in the ass when you get infected. Get a good anti-malware or something. They have them at CVS, if you –'' `` You guys wan na search for a CVS?'' Frank asks, as Tom leads him to the door. `` I got these great tool belts with search engines on them. They're free, take them!'' Frank starts throwing tool belts at us – dozens of them. `` Stop, Frank, stop!'' I say, joining Tom. `` These guys are right, you are infected, man. Go get yourself fixed, then come back here. You're endangering us, too. I have a shitty immune system.'' Frank stops by the door, and his eyes seem to return to normal. `` Yeah… Yeah, ok. I'll go get myself checked.'' He smiles and offers me his hand. I shake it. `` Thanks.'' I let go of Frank's hand as Tom closes the door, and everyone sighs in relief. `` Thank God,'' Tom says. `` Anyway… what you guys want to do tonight?'' I look from my hand to the door to Tom. Suddenly, I feel hot and all light headed. My breathing gets heavier. `` I do n't know,'' I say. `` You guys wan na fuck some lonely single moms?''
[ CW ] I miss you .	I miss you. It's a feeling I know I could describe in depth only with you. It's a conversation we could have like we used to... when we'd tap into thoughts we did n't even think we had... when we'd say words that express not our own feelings, but each other's. These three words are everywhere. Written here, texted there, drifting through my mind, spoken to a voicemail I know you wo n't respond to, and felt, deep down, in a void I know only you could fill. I miss you. Denial keeps my pride afloat. While I can deny that I need what you gave -- an assurance that someone soulful and true and compatible actually existed -- I ca n't deny that there is hazy uncertainty surrounding the reason why you're not here. I do n't know why you're gone. And that makes missing you all the worse. Am I the culprit? The victim? I'm not too proud to admit either, but I'm proud enough to act like neither bothers me. I miss you. Phantom memories of you are all that's left. Who you were and who I was yesterday may have been an entwined, double-headed, identity crisis of bliss, but today, I do n't know you. If you think you know me now, you're the lost one. Abandonment was n't my goal. And maybe it was n't yours... but it was your accomplishment. Congratulations. I missed you. I did.
[ WP ] When a child is born , the eldest member of the family disappears from the world .	I have a secret to share with you all, did you know it is entirely possible to remove another human being from this earth without laying a finger on them, and it is completely legal? Allow me to explain... I had a `` friend'' that royally fucked my life up, and I had no way to exact my revenge. That was until I found out about the secret I shared with you. I then hatched a plan. For context, he stole money from me behind my back, a lot of money, so I was going to steal something from him, his life. I researched his family. He was the eldest of two, I then turned my attention to his Mother, she was in her 30's. `` Perfect'' It took me 3 months of sneaking around and flirting before she got into bed with me. She asked me to wear a condom, and I did, AFTER I poked a hole in it. The baby was born 3 years ago, and I have n't seen him since that day. Revenge. -- - Really short, odd story line I concocted.
[ WP ] Write a scene to an accompanying song	[ Better - onerepublic ] ( http: //www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/onerepublic/better.html ) -- -- -- - Smile. Small talk. Do n't do that. Three rules. Those, and a tremendous amount of self-discipline, were all Alex needed to seem normal. Smile. Act happy. Make small talk. Be normal. Do n't do that. Do n't rub your nose. Do n't go back and do it again. Do n't run your hands over that over and over again. Do n't scrub your hands that way when there are other people in the bathroom. Do n't cringe when you brush past that. But at home, Alex did n't need to be normal. Alex could go and he could lock himself in the bathroom and he could be as weird as he wanted to. Alex had just gotten home now. This was the worst part of his day, but it was the easiest. The first thing he does is unlock the doors and then the windows and then lock them again and then try to open them. Just to make sure. And then he looks for cameras. He looks at the ceilings and the walls behind his books and he runs his hands over the ledges and he uses a flashlight to look under furniture. Alex knows that it's unlikely for anyone to be watching him, but it's better to be sure. And then he goes into his bathroom and he locks the door and unlocks it and locks it again and he checks in the shower and the bathtub and around the corner and he looks for cameras again. Just to be sure. Now, he changes his clothes and he showers and he scrubs his feet and his hands until he ca n't anymore. He knows they probably are n't dirty, but they feel like they are. It's better to be sure. And then he sits in the corner of the room. This is one his favorite time of the day. He gets intrusive thoughts anyway, all the time, but now he can bang his head on the wall and cover his eyes and pull his hair and no one will look at him weird and ask if he's okay. He's not insane though. Everyone gets them. He just gets them worse. He always feels better after doing that for a while. Not long, only an hour or so. He does it for longer today, though. Today is a bad day. He gets those sometimes. He's used to them. Now, he does it for longer, and he also does other things. He has to run his hands down his scalp in the exact center. It hurts, but it's the only way to center things and make them right. He also rubs his nose. That hurts, too, after a while. He does n't know why he does it. He knows there is n't a reason. He has to be careful when he has a bad day. He has to touch as few things as possible, because if he touches anything, he has to touch it evenly. Usually he can resist and the urge will go away after a while, but not when he has a bad day. It's annoying. He does other stuff too. To other people, it might look like he'd lost his mind. He knows he has n't. He'll be better the morning.
[ CW ] Write a love letter in exactly 365 letters	It seems I may have loved you Too quickly for my skin; My feet hang limp above me As I will hang in sin. Your word can halt the music, But fervent plays the band; No matter that I protest: You're sure I understand. And dear, I do, and truly I can not think you wrong To break our bond so cruelly By any other song. And still I love you fully, wild as I come, fleeting as you need me until our time is done. Good bye, my only queen, til heaven stops the rain and we can dance again.
[ WP ] The robbery went perfectly . The the three perpetrators count their gains , 1,000,000 dollars in cash exactly . Everything is going fine until they realize to split it up someones going to have to leave with $ 1 more than the other two .	Dave pulled out his phone and crunched the numbers. He tapped away on the phone's keypad, inputting the value of one million into his phone's calculator. He then divided it by three. A dire look grew on Dave's face as he stared at the calculator's output. It was not an even split. `` What's the matter Dave? You look like your kid just died!'' James joked, shaking Dave gently. `` We just robbed a million bucks! It went off without a hitch! Why the sour look?'' Dave shoved James roughly. `` Look at this, dickweed!'' Dave thrust the phone into James's face, and instantly James understood. His eyes widened. `` N-no... that's wrong, the phone...'' `` What's the matter?'' Craig chimed in. Dave flashed him the phone, and Craig stumbled back, aghast. `` That... that ca n't be right! No, no, that... no!'' All three of them stared down at the phone, a look of disbelief and sheer horror planted upon their faces. As it turned out, one million divided by three resulted in a decimal amount. What that meant for the robbers is that one of them would get to leave with an extra dollar. `` Alright, you know what guys, let's just use logic and reason to sort this out. We've gotten past the hardest part, right? We got the million. We escaped the police. We can get past this,'' Craig said, his shaky voice betraying the confidence his words gave. `` Yeah, yeah... this shit ai n't even a problem! Like Craig said, we can use logic and reason to get this sorted, and then we can all go home and start livin' in luxury.'' James agreed. Dave's previously grim face began to grow more lively. `` Yeah, logic n' shit. How do you suggest we go about doin' this?'' Craig pondered the question for a moment, then thought of an answer. `` Well naturally, the most important person in the heist should be the one who gets the most from it. Let's make cases for why we deserve the most money, and this will be sorted easily and hastily.'' `` Make cases for our importance, is that what you're getting at?'' `` Yeah. That should work.'' `` Alright then,'' James started, `` allow me to begin with why I deserve the most cash. As you know, I was the getaway driver during this little incident of ours. Without me, we would n't of been able to get away from the cops, thus making our entire operation pointless. Thanks to my high quality driving skills, we also managed to avoid danger and allude the cops. My driving skills allowed us to reach the agreed upon hiding spot with no issue. Therefore, I-'' `` do n't deserve the most money, right? Getaway drivers are the most useless of all members. Please, shut your mouth,'' interrupted Dave. James scoffed. `` Most useless? You're a dumb one, are n't ya? I bet you have n't even seen Drive.'' `` No, I have n't seen Drive. Please enlighten me.'' `` Drive is a movie starring Ryan Gosling. It's about a stunt driver who acts as a getaway driver for robberies and shit.'' `` What's your point?'' `` My point is that such a movie would n't exist if getaway driver's were n't important.'' `` That's the dumbest fucking thing you could've said to build your argument on. In that movie, Ryan gets the smallest cut out of the money. You ruined yourself, dickhead.'' `` Ah fuck ya,'' sulked James. He pushed Dave aggressively and left the debate, leaving only Dave and Craig left to argue about who deserved the $ 1 more. `` As the gunman-'' started Dave `` you would've been useless without the plan of the mastermind,'' finished Craig. `` You mean the same mastermind that did n't realise the cash would n't be an even split? Good fuckin' masterminding there, hey?'' `` A simple oversight. It does n't change the fact that the reason the plan went off without a hitch was because of my work.'' `` And the reason the plan went off without a hitch was because of my intimidation and gun skills, was n't it?'' `` No, no it was n't. You accidentally fired off a shot at a civilian immediately upon entering the bank. You're lucky they just thought you missed, because you nearly revealed the fact that you were using blanks.'' `` Whatever, it does n't change the fact that I was able to hold off security, does it?'' `` The reason security was n't a problem was because of the precautions I took before hand. If they were n't understaffed that day you'd be riddled with bullets like the silly little idiot you are.'' `` Man, you know what? Fuck the both of you morons, I'm taking it all for myself!'' Dave pulled out his gun and fired at Craig. James turned to run, but Dave managed to gun him down all the same. Then he remembered something. `` Nice one, jackass.'' Craig kicked Dave between the legs, then threw him to the ground. James patted himself all over before realising Dave's mistake. `` Ha! Dave, you really are an utter dickhead.'' James mocked as Dave lay moaning. James decided to get in on the action and kicked Dave as well. `` What would you say to a two way split, James?'' Craig questioned. `` I would say,'where are we going to hide his body?''' James responded. Dave's eyes widened in terror. `` How about the river? It's a pretty popular dumping ground for trash.'' `` The river? A classic. Let's do it, then.''
[ WP ] Dragons are the dominant species on earth , humans are about to go extinct . In a last ditch and dash effort a group of villagers seek to kill the King Dragon .	The Dragon has green eyes. It was a beautiful green. They were surrounded by a almost unnoticeable ring of fire. These were n't the eyes of a killer but of a beast with an undying rage. This was a beast who's master had been slaughtered. There were four us who dared to stop the beast. Koren went in to the den first. A man too proud to ever accept help or assistance. A battle cry and a loud, bone shattering crunch were the only sounds heard. His limp body was thrown from the den. We constructed a grave for him. We placed his sword in his grave with him. If there is an afterlife, he will need it. The twins Ryker and Rayk now entered the den. I heard the sound of projectiles flying through the air, accompanied with the sound of them hitting their mark. A roar emerged from the den with enough force to shoot Ryker out of the den like a bat out of hell. He hit tree, his back was broken when I reached him. `` Help.'' Was all he could get out. I nodded my head as I thrust my dagger into his chest. The cave had grown silent. I approached to Rayk lying face down in a pool of blood. On his arm was a message. For the Village was all it said. I now turned to face the dragon with my dagger still unsheathed. In the ancient tongue I yelled, `` I am Yagua. Fear me and all that I am and will become.'' The dragon breathed a fire as if he were a volcano. We fought not for our own sake, but for our races. We fought tooth for tooth, and nail for claw. After what seemed like an hour of fighting, the dragon stumbled. I pierced his heart with my dagger. I am the victor. I dug graves for Ryker and Rayk next to Koren. I walked back to town to hear the cries of joy, the applause, and the singing. I was not a hero, but a savior. Day by day, more dragons perish by our hands. We have taken back half of our land. One day I dream of returning to the home my wife and I once shared by the river. I am Yagua, and this is my tale.
[ TT ] An unnatural storm is brewing out at sea and something ancient is rising from the depths . You are the ships witch/wizard and right now , you are also your crews only chance .	`` Captain, I've come to warn you.'' I said. The captain glared at me. `` Ramirez,'' he said to me, `` how many times have I told you not to come up here on the bridge?'' `` All of them.'' I said. `` But this is important. As your ship's wizard-'' `` Magician.'' The captain corrected. `` You're the magician that Carnival Cruise Lines hired to entertain people on this, their cruise. And yet you've spent more time up here than you have in the lounge, where you're supposed to be right now if I'm not mistaken.'' `` Well true, but I read the contract carefully, as one does when one is used to dealing with the infernal-'' `` Again, the lawyers are not actually devils,'' the captain interjected. `` And I've performed well over the number of hours required.'' I finished. `` Did n't I order the door locked?'' The captain asked of everyone on the bridge but me. `` You did!'' I said, waving my fingers in a way that suggested mere locks were not a hindrance before my arcane powers. In case that was n't clear, I added `` Mere locks are not a hindrance before-'' `` Ramirez! Just tell me what the problem is and then get the hell of my bridge!'' `` Right. I've performed the daily auguries-'' `` Uh-huh.'' The captain said, rolling his eyes. `` And I'm afraid that this ship of the damned-'' `` Carnival would appreciate it if you'd use the phrase'cruise liner','' the captain interjected. `` -is headed directly into the path of a Kraken.'' The captain just looked at me, as though to make sure I was finished. When it was apparent that I was, he sighed. `` Okay, fine. I'll alter course. Now go back down to the lounge and pull a rabbit out of your hat or something.'' `` Very well. Oh, and I think you dropped this.'' I said, retrieving the six of spades. `` Was this your card?'' `` For the last time, Ramirez, no. I have not now, nor have I ever, chosen a card. Get out.'' I did, satisfied that my work was done. But the auguries are full of vagueness and ( to many ) bullshit, and while they warn me of important things like Krakens, they do not tell me things like `` The Captain does n't believe a goddamn word you're saying and he is n't going to change his course.'' Presumably, they think this is obvious and I should be able to pick up on these things myself, but I'm not that great with people, okay auguries? Get off my back! Anyway, about twenty minutes into my act when I'm sawing my assistant in half for the seventh time ( thus sawing her into 128ths ), the ship of the damned / cruise ship comes to a shuddering halt because GUESS WHAT IT'S KRAKEN TIME. And then it's all `` Oh, we're sorry we doubted you o mighty sorcerer!'' Or that's what I choose to hear instead of `` this is somehow your fault, get up on the deck and do something about it.'' That's how I come face-to-tentacle with a Kraken, just as the auguries and I predicted, because if it's one thing oracles of the future are just freaking determined to do, it's to be right at all costs. Learn to let go, guys. Which is also what I was saying to the Kraken, but the Kraken does n't speak any of my languages and I ca n't actually speak all that well anyway due to the whole `` tentacle wrapped around me'' thing. But I've got some freedom in my arms and my hat fell off, so I use the oldest trick in the book and pull a rabbit out of the hat. Then I sacrifice the rabbit to the Kraken by throwing it ( the rabbit ) overboard. ( That's actually also in the book. Most people do n't read that far. ) So there I am! I'm a hero or closely approximating one, but do I get a break from doing the act? Nooooo! Everyone's all `` you should probably put your assistant back together before she runs out of blood''. Magic ai n't easy!
[ WP ] Trying to teach a spider how to knit may be a bit more difficult than you originally thought it would be .	`` How hard can it be?'' I say to John, who's still shaking his head in disapproval. `` Are you serious? Do you really think you can teach a spider how to knit?'' `` Dude, I am serious!'' I say. `` They have all those little legs, like eight of them! It will be super easy for them!'' John does n't say anything, but palms his face. I step closer to John. `` Think of all thr money we can make. Our own company of knitting spiders. They will be our minions, and we will be stinking rich. All they need is some knitting stuff and flies to eat,'' I whisper in his ear. `` Why are you whispering in my ear?'' John asks frowning. `` This idea is golden, people might be eavesdropping,'' I say. I find it hard to believe John's so sceptic about the idea. It's great. `` I think people who would be eavesdropping on this conversation, are as stupid as you with your idea,'' John says. He has crossed his arms and shakes his head again. `` Fine! I'll do it myself! But do n't come knocking on my door when I'm a billionaire,'' I shout. I walk towards the table where to cup is. It's upside down, because I trapped a spider in it. `` Watch this!'' I say to John. I lift the cup and start talking to the spider. `` Hello mister spider, I have a great idea. It's brilliant, actually. I want you to come work for me as knitting spiders. We can make a huge payout and you can get all the flies you want! All you have to do is-...'' I'm not yet finished explaining my masterplan when the spider starts crawling away. As it's nearing the edge of the table, it stops for a moment. It raises one of its small, hairy legs and flips its middle toe before crawling over the edge.
[ WP ] Picking a profession gives you immunity to bad things that your profession deals with ( ex Doctors will never get sick , Businessmen will never go poor ) . Your profession lasts your entire life , but you decided to be a Funeral Director .	I didnt excpect things to be this heartbreaking. When my youthful self chose this profession, I thought it was the greatest decision in the world. How wrong I was... As her casket is lowered, I solemnly ponder what happens now. Ive been paid hefty sums to direct and co-ordinate these burials, but never have they affected me so. She was the only person I truly cared for. My life partner, my lovely Grace, so calm in death's embrace. As I turn to depart the garden, I wipe away the only tear. There's only one thing emblazoned in my mind; I cant continue. Sitting in the dark, dreary office is disheartening. It's funny how I thought the exact opposite yesterday, when she was still here. I boot up my trusty work computer, and slowly sift through the pictures of our wedding. Why am I doing this to myself? I almost shut the computer down when it hits me. There may be an end to this enternal damnation. I remember an event from our graduation of high school, when we had to choose careers. My friend mentioned that we could switch after 10 years had passed, if we chose to. My head throbs as I quickly search for the government's career website. Sure enough, there is a link to an application for switching jobs. My hands shake as I fill out the form. I input the command to print. The offices for these cursed careers are as devoid of color as the bodies I worked with. I am clothed in my finest suit, only such a grand occasion as this would call for it. I am admitted into the meeting room. I give a warmer greeting than I should have, why does this excite me? The director of transfers asks for my application, and asks nonchalantly if I dislike my current job. My palms are sweating up an ocean. I tell him that my current position doesnt feel right anymore. He doesnt seem to particularly care about what reasons I have, he signs the application and files it away. He guides me into the transfer room. I sit as the machine extraction removes my career chip. This is it, the sweet release. My vision blurs. My breathing slows. Is this what she felt, those long months ago? I feel an unparreled ammount of ecstasy as I see her, above me, surrounded by a briliant light. As my consciousness slowly loses its grip on reality, I shed one last tear. My dying breath is used for a simple, heartfelt sentence: I love you, Grace.
[ WP ] You wake up to find you are an alligator .	Greg Samson woke from a dream in which he had been chased by a group of kittens to find himself transformed into a giant reptile. He lay on his soft scaled belly, which he found quite strange as his sleep apnea required him to use a bipap machine. Stranger still, the floor of his bedroom had been covered with a few feet of water and a toad. Greg moved his little feet, sliding into the cool water which would now be his home. He swam over to the toad which serenaded him with songs of love. He listened, a tingle going down his back to the tip of his spiked tail as he imagine himself cuddling with the toad. However, his alarm clock went off, breaking the trance the love music had put him under. He slammed his tail into his dresser, sending the alarm clock to it ’ s watery doom. “ Oh dear, ” thought Greg, “ this is certainly going to cause some trouble down at the office. ” Greg had been hired on at the office to push papers of all sorts; white papers, blank papers, papers with numbers. He dreamed of one day being promoted to punching numbers, but such a dream had now been destroyed by his transformation into this green scaled creature. Greg thought to his first day on the job, his manager handed him a broom and gave a grave warning, which at the time made little sense. “ Greg, ” said his manager, ” you ’ re going to make a great paper pusher. ” His manager ’ s eyes narrowed, a small amount of spittle flew from his mouth on accident as he continued, “ But if you ever turn into a giant reptile we ’ ll have to let you go. ” What an ironic turn of events, the one thing Greg could not do is exactly what had happened. “ This is all my fault, ” thought Greg, “ if I had concentrated more on not becoming a monstrous reptile that had filled its evolutionary role millions of years ago and had not significantly changed since then I would not be in this mess. ” Greg ’ s thoughts wandered to his family, ever since he was six years old he had worked hard for his family. His Father, Mother, three sisters, two brothers, five aunts, seven uncles, four grandparents, a friend he said could crash on the couch, and the world ’ s largest animal sanctuary he ran out of the back yard all depended on the money he made from his job. A knock came from Greg ’ s door. “ Greg, ” his sister called out, “ why is water gushing out of your door? ” What a horrible day for Greg. First he becomes a monster, and now he finds out the contractor didn ’ t construct a watertight door as promised. “ Don ’ t worry about that Ginger, ” replied Greg, “ I ’ ll call the man and tell him to come back and fix the door. ” “ Why do you sound like a reptile? ” Not having vocal cords or movable lips caused Greg ’ s voice to change slightly, giving away the predicament he had found himself in. However, he recalled an event at the local community theater that could trick her. “ I ’ m practicing for my part in the Ninja Turtle play, I ’ m playing Raphael and I don ’ t want to break character. ” “ You sound perfect. I thought I recognized your voice, ” said Ginger. Greg sighed. He wasn ’ t just a monster on the outside, his lying turned him into a monster on the inside as well. “ Oh Greg, ” said Ginger, “ Mom has breakfast ready, you should come down now. ” “ Just have her leave some raw plucked chickens outside my door and I ’ ll get them, ” replied Greg. Ginger ’ s footsteps led away from the door and downstairs. Greg had not noticed before, but the transformation had given him super human, or perhaps super reptile, hearing. He could hear the bellowing of monkeys from the back yard, his father humming Working For the Weekend to himself. He could even tell each person apart just by the way they walked, and his mother was walking to his bedroom door this very moment. “ Greg, ” said his Mother through the door, “ Ginger said you wouldn ’ t come down for breakfast, is anything wrong? ” “ No Mom, ” Greg said, “ I ’ m just a little sick. ” “ Sick? I can ’ t let my baby boy be sick without his mother. ” Greg ’ s mother turned the handle on his door, the pressure of the water forcing it open and knocking his mother over. The water rushed out of the room and downstairs. “ My goodness! ” Yelled Greg ’ s father and four of his uncles in unison. Once the water had emptied and Greg ’ s mother stood up, Greg lay on the floor, eyes fixed on his mother. “ Don ’ t look, I ’ m naked, ” said Greg. “ My baby boy, ” said Greg ’ s shocked mother, “ why are you green and covered in scales? ” Greg waddled out of the room as fast as his reptile legs could take him, which wasn ’ t much faster than his elderly mother and her wooden leg. He slipped downstairs where everybody in the house had been eating breakfast. They all stopped eating and stared at the green monstrosity that had slithered down the stairs, even the Emus took time from their pecking to gawk through the back window. “ What the devil is that? ” Asked one of his uncles. “ It appears to be a reptile of some kind, although I ’ m not sure of the species, ” replied Greg ’ s friend that had been woken by the commotion. “ My baby boy! ” Yelled Greg ’ s Mom as she tumbled down the stairs, “ he ’ s my baby boy! ” “ Greg? ” Inquired his father. Greg imagined the future, his family hating him for turning into this reptile. They would have to feed him and make sure he was well cared for as his little reptile legs were useless for pushing papers. He had to make them believe he was dead so they could move on. “ No, I ate him, Greg is dead! ” “ Oh my God, Greg sounds just like Raphael, ” said Greg ’ s grandmother on his father ’ s side, “ that ’ s amazing. ” “ Reptiles are so cool, ” said Greg ’ s youngest brother, “ can I ride you around and take you to school? ” “ This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to our family and I don ’ t see any downsides, ” said Greg ’ s grandfather on his mother ’ s side. All of the old men nodded in agreement, as old men do. This shocking turn of events shocked Greg more than the shock of waking up as a reptile. “ But all of you will have to take care of me, I can ’ t do anything on my own any more. ” “ Nonsense, ” Greg ’ s father said, “ you ’ re a talking reptile. You ’ ll make millions just from the talk shows alone. We ’ ll gladly take care of you if we can have some of that money. ” All of Greg ’ s worries were gone. Reality turned out to be much better than his imagination. “ I love money, ” said Greg, “ and I don ’ t have breathing problems any more and I have super hearing. I can hear your heartbeats. ” Greg ’ s youngest brother jumped on his back. “ Greg ’ s a super hero too! You can be the Green Chomper. ” A single tear dropped from Greg ’ s mother ’ s eye, Greg heard it hit the floor. “ Mom, what ’ s wrong? We ’ re going to be rich. ” Greg ’ s mother wiped her eyes. “ I was hoping you would give me a grandchild. ” “ Actually Mom, ” said Greg, “ there ’ s a toad upstairs and I think we ’ re in love. ” `` Ribbit,'' said the toad from the top of the stairs. All of Greg ’ s aunts screamed, “ We ’ re going to have a wedding! ” Greg roared a gritty roar, silencing the screaming and crying and yelling. “ Hold on everybody, I need to tell you something important. ” Each person waited in anticipation, the badgers and cats and wolverines that gathered around the back door were as silent as the mice clinging to their fur. “ I ’ m starving, where ’ s breakfast? ”
[ WP ] Bear Grylls and Gordon Ramsay swap shows for one episode .	`` Goddamn it, Nature. This foliage looks like a palsied Bob Ross painted it. Ca n't you do better?!'' Ramsay shouted at the brush, but it did not reply. Instead, the fish just blooped and blopped, and the stream gurgled this this: `` Gurgggle..gurgle.''. Other things happened. `` So you've got a river, eh? That's an effort, that's an improvement, I can atleast respect that. But there's raccoon shit in it. Do you take pride in yourself, river? Stop the fucking burbling for a second and listen: Do you want to lose your park status? Because if you do n't stop screwing around, if you do n't get your shit together, I guarantee that you will.'' The river seemed to swell at what he had to say. `` Burrble.. Burrble..'' `` Do n't you dare talk back to me! I've been sent here to help you turn this around, and all you show me is a few twigs and a river filled with shit! Get out of here!'' Next month on Gordon Ramsay: Yelling at Things.
[ WP ] You ca n't die unless your death is either just or heroic .	The applause faded as Jason made his way back to his seat in the far corner of the stage. Hans stepped up to the podium and surveyed the room with a slight roll of his head. He addressed them with a volume that had to be listened to to be heard. “ To build on what my colleague has been saying; on the off chance that you ever find yourself in a hostage situation I want to give you a bit of advice. If a guy ever pulls a gun on you and asks you to do something you do it. See, if a guy ever pulls a gun on you, or has a room full of hostages, it ’ s because he ’ s desperate. I know this because if he weren ’ t he wouldn ’ t be taking the hostages in the first place, see? ” The room laughed at what they supposed to be a joke. Hans adjusted his tie during what was, to him, an uncomfortable pause. He raised a finger. “ And here ’ s another bit of advice for you. If you ever see a guy who pulls a gun on a room of people, holding them hostage and demanding they do a bunch of stuff for him, you let it pan out. Because the moment you step in to stop this lunatic you ’ re as good a target as he is and, if you ’ ll remember, he ’ s the one that ’ s got the gun. ” The was a smattering of nods. It all made sense. Anyone who died would have had it coming anyway under the new rules. “ In fact, rule of thumb, don ’ t get dead. Easy enough? Brilliant. Heroes and criminals. That ’ s who gets killed. It ’ s a system that suits me and ought to suit you. ” The audience looked pensive and some were taking notes. “ For instance, bus full of nuns teetering over a cliff. What do you do? Nothing is what. If they die, good. If they live, no need for heroics. ” He stopped talking as if he might be finished. One out of the audience of journalists raised their left hand. “ Yes? ” he asked. “ Ms. Julia Frances, Daily News. Isn ’ t the government ’ s new system for death just a little ill-conceived? Is the government familiar with the concept of maiming? In all, doesn ’ t this new measure simply allow criminals to use a far higher degree of force in the knowledge that their victims won ’ t be killed? ” Hans didn ’ t have an answer. They hadn ’ t given it all that much thought. It sounded like such a good idea earlier back in the cabinet room. ‘ Oh crap ’ he thought. “ No, yes and no. ” he replied. “ This press conference is over. ”
[ WP ] It has been verified that dying will result in going to heaven , no matter what . You are the government , trying to lower the suddenly skyrocketing suicide rate .	`` Tom, we've got to do something.'' `` I understand, Bill.'' `` How many?'' `` So far? We might as well be handing out Kool-Aid on the streets.'' Bill slammed his fist on the table. `` Tom, tell me. Tell me how this got out.'' `` It was the Russians, of all people. They were the first to figure out the algorithm for the subatomic super positioning. Upon reaching the conclusions of their experiments, the scientists were the first to take their own lives.'' `` But, that does n't explain –'' `` Let me finish. You, me, and all the rest of the US government officials can sit here and debate this until time collapses inward. The only real things you need to understand at this moment, is that the infinite series of moments we perceive as time are already laid out for us, by higher dimensions.'' Bill took a sip of his coffee, listening intently. He had clearly not slept, or eaten a proper meal in a very long time. He squinted his eyes, trying to make sense of all of this. `` Tom, I'm the leader of this country. But I'm not afraid to say that this is all going over my head.'' Tom scratched his face, trying to think of a way to explain. `` When we live, we are bound by four dimensions. We can move freely in three, but we are forced to walk forward in the fourth. Only death frees us from this constraint. We were once afraid that we would go to hell; the algorithm showed us that nobody can sin. How can we, when our fates have been determined since the beginning?'' Even though he was sweating, Bill started to shiver. `` The people of this country chose me to protect them, goddamnit. We endured, we conquered… exploration, famine, civil war, equality, nuclear war, terrorism… and the thing that finally brings this nation to its knees is it's own goddamn people.'' It was in that moment that Tom's complexion changed. Normally stern and straightfaced, his lips curled into an unnatural smile. `` How could you understand? You were elected by the people, but you are not of the people. You probably spent your childhood playing with the sons of billionaires. Do you know what an orphanage in Siberia is like? It's rather apathetic, as are the quartermasters who are tasked with finding little nobodies to turn into military spies. You see, the Cold War is something you learned about in your text books, but for me, it's the foundation for my existence.'' Bill became suddenly aware that Tom's accent had morphed. The man he thought he knew as his trusted adviser of over a decade was vanishing right before him. Tom continued. `` You, Mr. President, were given the responsibility of 1000 tasks. I was given but one. God forgive me, but today I can not complete it. I would much rather let you be the steward of a land of bones, than to take you with me to paradise.'' Bill heard the other man make a clicking sound from his teeth; the last sound he made before falling to the ground, dead.
[ WP ] After being pestered by a man who wants all the knowledge in the Universe , God gives in and shows him everything that he knows . But it is not what the man expected at all .	`` That's it?'' the man said. `` What do you mean,'that's it'?'' `` That's what I mean, I mean,'that's it?' because that's what I mean. That's it?'' he said. `` Yes that's it, I do n't have all day kid, move it along.'' `` What do you mean?'' inquired the man. `` What do you mean what do I mean, that's it, that's your whole life, all those things you wanted to know, like how they make those cheese snacks orange. That's it.'' `` Yes but, what about the people who I thought I loved who did n't love me back? What about what would've happened if I had been an overconfident guy rushing through his work instead of taking it easy because I actually cared about my future? What about that girl I liked, did she even notice me, I do n't understand --'' he pestered. `` Look, dude. I do n't really want to sit here and explain this to you, but I'm going to do in such a way that you understand. The girls you loved but did n't make your love apparent to? They're gone. Fucked a bunch of guys that were n't you, they're gone permanently. Now that you're dead, you'll never see them again. Oh and that confidence thing, yeah, well, you'd have enjoyed everything a lot better, but it really does n't matter in the end.'' The man, intrigued by the answer asked, `` But why, why does n't it matter?'' `` Because that was then. You made your choices, however poor or outstanding they were. They're yours. That was the life you chose. The unassuming, unconfident pushover. And that was a really beautiful girl you were hounding down there, by the way. More than looks to that one, in my opinion'' After a long pause, the man asked, `` What can I do?'' `` What can I do? What can I do, O God? You see, this is your fucking problem, you always think that there's a way you can just go back and fix it if you get it wrong, how about you actually get it right in the first place, then I wo n't have to sit here and have this fucking discussion with you every goddamn time.'' `` But there must've been something I could've done to live my life to the fullest'' the man protested. `` You did live your life to it's fullest, it's just that you kept shrinking your cup''. The man realized what was just said, `` Send me back, I want another chance. I know what I should've done, I know that I should've asked my love to love me back, I know that I should've been more lax now, now I know! Send me back I know what I should've done, I wo n't be so stupid next time, send me back!'' he screamed. There was a brief pause. `` No.''
[ PI ] You have a 10-minute phone call with yourself from age 16	`` Hello?'' `` It's you from the future.'' ``... What?'' `` Yes. I only have ten minutes, so listen carefully while I prove it to you. You keep your porn in a folder designed to look like one of the system files in your D drive, but it's in your C drive. It's stored as links in a notepad file called Mqfyk.txt. You want to have sex with Jaclyn, but you'll never actually make a move on her because you secretly think she's a douchebag.'' There's a pause. Precious seconds. I need to know that I believe me though. ``... Um... I'm listening.'' `` Open a word file and write this all down.'' ``... Ok, file's open.'' `` On May 25 next year, at 6 PM, call the police and tell them a high school student is drowning in the quarry near Dublin and Trabue. He wo n't actually be drowning until 7, but telling the police he's already drowning is the best way to get them there ASAP. You just saved your friend's life. On December 4 this year, after school ends, go to the train tracks behind the school. There will be a kid named Art Lane walking on the tracks. Get his attention, do whatever the Hell you have to do to get him off the tracks. You do n't know him, but you just saved his life. I'd tell you other major ways to save people's lives, but nobody's going to believe you, so your impact will probably be pretty limited. Just take care of the little things you can have an impact on. Also, Lana likes you. She's going to ask you for relationship advice in a few months, and you're going to avoid saying anything bad about her boyfriend because you're afraid that your opinions are biased, and you want to be a good friend to her first and foremost. She already knows she's not happy with her relationship; she's just looking for someone to help her feel like she's not crazy, and she wants you to be the person to tell her. Tell her what you really think; trust yourself. If Meyer does n't put you next to Julie and Amanda at some point near the end of this year, find some other way to talk to them. Go to Wright State for your first year of college. Do n't worry about the details, just do it. Take Math 131 with any professor BUT Alexander Whats-his-face. He's horrible. Transfer to a different room in the honors dorm after a few months and never talk to Corey again, but keep in touch with Nathan. Apply to transfer to OSU during Winter quarter. Also, invest in Bitcoin. ASAP. As soon as you possibly can, put a thousand dollars at least into Bitcoin. Do n't sell any of it until 2013 at least. After that, it's all pretty uncertain; what I've already told you will probably have a pretty major impact on everything after that, and my ability to give advice will be limited. Also, if you could start keeping a daily log of important events in your life, that will help you in the future. No tangible benefits, it'll just be useful and help you when you're thinking back on your own life. So, we've got 3 minutes left. Did you get all that?'' There's a brief pause, then `` December 4, train tracks after school, May 25, police; quarry trabue dublin 6 PM, be honest with Lana in a few months and do n't worry about being biased, go to Wright State, switch rooms but keep in touch with Nathan, do n't take math with Alexander, transfer to OSU in winter, then take classes there in summer, talk to Julie and Amanda in physics somehow, probably after a seating change, invest in Bitcoin. Anything else?'' A little over a minute left now. I doubt I got all that down perfectly, but that'll be close enough. `` Is there anything specific you want to know?'' `` Does Ava like me?'' `` You already know the answer to that. Ask her to see a movie, but do n't expect anything long term.'' `` What else should I know?'' `` You're going to be a much more open-minded person in 5 years. Embrace change in yourself. Also, you're afraid of failure. Do n't be. You succeed at pretty much everything you try, and even when you do n't, you do n't regret trying. Live life to the fullest and do n't be afraid of looking silly.'' `` Uh... Alright. What time are we at?'' `` Ten seconds.'' `` Thanks. I wish I could actually get to know you.'' `` Me too.''
[ WP ] Write a story about a man writing a story about a man writing a story about a man writing a story .	'' It's about a guy writing a story about a guy writing a story. It's fiction, but it'll be chock full of insight into the world of writing about writing. You see we've read tons of stories about the process of writing, but hardly any about the process of writing about the process of writing. `` '' And who's your market? `` '' So many authors out there, too many, and nearly everyone of them has written about a writer at some point. All those authors, they'll relate to my story. They'll relate to writing about writing. `` '' You know what? That's about the best goddamn idea I've heard all day'' and he stood up and shook my hand. Brad_Collins leaned back from his computer screen shaking his head. It's horrible, he thought. There's nothing to it. No clever twist, no characterization. Hell it was all dialogue, his weakest area. And what's this? Inserting himself into his own story? Who does he think he is, Charlie Kaufman? What arrogance. Such ego. Jesus Christ now he's making meme jokes in his head. He hovered his finger over the save button, still seriously considering closing the page and just forgetting it. He was really regretting using his real name for this account. If he had stayed anonymous he would n't be having this dilemma. Plus mentioning himself in the third person is n't nearly as fun as it seems to be for others. Maybe he'd actually like this story if his username was DiarrheaThunderSnatch or Murder_Sex_Typhoon.
[ WP ] A guy is in a tree . Explain .	Three days ago, my girlfriend told me that she wanted to go sky diving. When I tried to say we could n't afford it she produced a pamphlet, obviously printed by less than professional means, that advertised tandem jumps for $ 50 each. I thought for sure she was joking. I mean, you do n't skimp on the price of your skydive. She is a convincing little thing though so we went. I knew all throughout the presentation that this was a bad idea. Their idea of safety was a 10 minute speech on not touching anything and not doing anything stupid. I had looked into skydiving before and they all required a class on how to jump out of a plane. This place seemed more interested in turn over. After the safety talk, I was not eager to jump and even less eager when I saw our packs sitting on the ground outside the plane. `` Uhm, Why do those packs look like they have been... errr... dropped?'' I asked. The entire group laughed off my question and we started to board the plane. We paired up with the employees and they started to go through how this was going to happen. The planes engine sputtered on and I could n't hear a damn thing the guy was saying. My girlfriend just looked so damn excited about it though. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to jump. The moment I left the plane, every bit of anxiety I was feeling melted away. The sky was gorgeous and I could see the entire countryside below me. It was absolutely breathtaking. The ground was approaching rapidly but I trusted my partner to know when to pull the rope. Eventually, we were gliding gracefully down to earth. Something just was n't right though. We were getting closer and closer to the tree line and when I tried to point it out, I got no response. I came to the dreaded realization that the guy attached to my back was no longer conscious. We hit the tree hard and I felt every single branch hit me. It was several minutes later when he awoke and asked me what happened. I explained that he must have passed out. `` Oh yeah'' He started, `` I get really crazy anxiety about heights.'' That is why I am currently stuck in a tree, with an idiot strapped to my back. I may also be single. I have n't decided yet.
[ CW ] Tell a circular story - the end of your tale should lead back into the beginning .	The hellfires raged in the chief's eyes. He held up the bloody rag for all to see. `` Damned if I'm going to let them get away with this. They kill one of ours, we kill one of theirs. They kill ten, we kill twenty. Who's with me?!'' Mere hours later, spears and blood coated the ground. The dead forgot what side they were on, but the survivors did not. The enemy chief walked stricken among the bloodshed. Finally he picked up a bloody rag and stood up to address his people. The hellfires raged in the chief's eyes. He held up the bloody rag for all to see.
[ WP ] A man starts to believe he 's asleep and dreaming and starts `` lucid dreaming '' ( basically doing what he wants to do ) , by the end , he realizes he 's not dreaming .	`` Wait... Say what?'' I was shocked, Gary slapped me in the face again, nearly knocking me off balance, `` I SAID YOU'RE NOT DREAMING YOU LITTLE CUNT.'' `` OW... STOP SLAPPING ME!'' `` Put on some clothes, throw away that chainsaw and for god's sake take off that dildo.'' Gary lifted his hand up, looking as if he's going in for another slap, but instead dragged it slowly down his face `` God fuckin dammit Kevin...'' & nbsp; I walked back into Gary's living room, which was still on fire, and sat down next to him. `` OWWWW'' I screamed, I forgot to remove the dildo. `` Jesus Christ...'' `` So... this is n't a dream?'' `` Yep'' `` So I actually assaulted the president, became a drug lord in Columbia, starred in Fast and Furious 9, blew up the wall on the Mexican border, hijacked the ISS, crashed the stock market multiple times, started my own country, masturbated on the moon, found a cure for cancer, bought Microsoft, burned down the White House, spilled tons of oil on the Great Barrier Reef, claimed to be Genghis Khan while leading a army of Mongols to invade Europe, held Gaben on gunpoint demanding the release of Half Life 3 and nearly caused several World Wars? `` Eh... yes'' `` wow cool'' `` Erm... you're not surprised?'' `` Well I mean, not really, after doing all that, I must be a legend of some sort right?'' `` No, but your head is wanted by several countries, with a grand total of $ 100000000 as bounty.'' `` Hmm...'' `` So if I hand myself in, I can get $ 100000000 for free? sweet!'' `` Were you even listening to what I was saying?'' `` Do n't worry, I stole some cloning technology thingy from the CIA, I'll just make a clone.'' `` Dude, you already made like 100000 of them...'' `` Really?... huh'' `` Yes, they are still attacking Europe with the rest of your Mongol army.'' `` Sick ass, are we winning?'' `` God... why am I even friends with you?'' `` Cause I'm awesome and you know it!'' ``...'' `` Kevin, you're meant to be surprised and shocked at this info...'' `` Well too bad, because fuck the writer and his shitty ass story'' `` Did you just break the 4th wall?'' `` FUCK YES! YOU KNOW WHY?'' `` sigh... why?'' `` CAUSE IM AWESOME AND I KNOW IT!''
[ WP ] Every night , you dream . You live a new life , in another place and time . When you die , you wake up . You have the experience of many lifetimes , and you bring nothing with you back from the dream but memories .	I've spent so much time searching for answers. Though none believe, it has been lifetimes. I've centuries of knowledge and wisdom. I've held many types of degrees and doctorates. I spent ages learning and teaching, but the only answer I have seems so barbaric. I am cursed. I have been for a couple of months now. When sleep takes me, I dream life. Or maybe it isn ’ t a dream, perhaps my consciousness streams into some poor infant. Maybe someone loses their soul and I replace it while my body rest. Maybe my mind is shot through the galaxy and lands far into some unknown dimension. Or maybe it's just this curse. I've been preparing to believe anything. For whatever reason it may be, I live through an entire life. Infancy, adolescence, adulthood, I become a senior citizen, all of it. There's is not much I haven ’ t seen in the past month. There is n't much I haven ’ t felt and even less I haven ’ t done. I remember when it first happened. I spent a majority of that life in and out of asylums and bland offices. Sitting in front of doctors and machines. When I'd awoken from the dream I was confused. Merely an angsty teen of 15 years but with the stories, the memories, the experience of a sad and senile old man. My plight wasn ’ t something that friends and family can take seriously. To them I was delusional and had seen too many movies and read too many novels. I wanted to believe them. I needed to. As it's much easier to self diagnose as insane and go about your day. Then it happened again. In that life I figured that I should make the most of it. Again I'd wake with more memories. And after that, every dream was replaced with a life. There's a lot one can do in a lifetime when he takes the chains off. When man unshackles himself from standards and expectations life, can be beautiful. I spent many dreams running wild. Doing everything that I could, and should I fail, should a door close on a certain lifetime, I knew that I could try again. There was never fear, never any regret. I flew planes, stole cars, landed on the covers of magazines, starred in films. I've felt every pleasure that life can offer. But, one thing that spares no one is pain. I have experienced so much hurt, so much darkness. I've buried many loved ones so far. Eight Daughters and fourteen sons. Countless amounts of other friends and family. In all the lifetimes I've lived and all the loves I've had, only twenty-six times have my wives outlived me. I remember their names and faces. The smiles and mannerisms.The memories sting like fresh cuts. Each day wearing on my mind yet never connecting with my body. The world can be beautiful and sweet. It is also a twisted place. It took a long time before I built up the courage to end a lifetime myself. It was after I'd lost my brother in a crash. Of all my brothers, was my favorite. I'd never known such an intense level of grief. So I did it. I found the highest building and dove down. Excruciating. Dying naturally or on accident as I ’ ve been used to is nothing. It'd result in me waking up. It ’ s simple. But suicide. Suicide is the most painful thing that I've ever lived through. I hurts to the cell. Every fragment of my being burned intensely. I've only killed myself twice. I never revisit the second reason why. I had a string of lifetimes, in which i lived in darkness and maliciously. I think that It was from these dark periods of lives that I decided to give my all to discover what was wrong with me. I've been researching for decades. Loud and in the public eye or subtly. It never matters. I live out and I die then wake up. Wash rinse repeat. My actual body has only aged a few months. My mind however has changed completely. When in public, out in my real world, my life. I rarely speak. I keep my distance. I try to stay awake as long as I can. It's a shame that this growing body requires rest. Many times I have considered ending myself here. When I am lucid, in my un-cursed state. But It ’ d be a waste. To spend so long living out these random destinies without realizing the one that actually belongs to me. My friends tell me that `` I've changed''. That I'm being `` weird''. I envy them. Ignorance truly is bliss.

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