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[ WP ] A woman 's daughter dies . Soon she can see her daughter 's imaginary friend .	I'm a guy writing from a woman's pov in this one. Hope it turns out well. sorry it's so long. I can be quite the blow-hard Ella was gone. She had been gone for a week now, and I still could n't figure out why. Had I done something horribly wrong? Ella showed up days after Brook died. I remembered Brook talking to someone, and when I asked, she just said it was Ella. She was four, so it sounded to me like just her imagination, but apparently, I was mistaken. She appeared as I lay in my bed not wanting to do anything. It was my fifth day away from work, and I had actually not eaten the whole time. I hated that the house was so quiet, but it seemed pointless to turn on the tv or radio just for some noise. Ella just stood there in my bedroom door and said, `` Do n't cry Mommy. Brook's okay. She's playing with Uncle Richard.'' Uncle Richard had been my favorite uncle growing up. My dad's brother, he had died not even a year before Brook was born. Baffled, I asked this little girl, `` Who are you?'' I had n't seen her before in my life. She looked to be about Brook's age with neatly arranged blond hair and pretty blue eyes. That's when it had all began. Ella comforted me. She called me Mommy, because Brook always had. We spent time together, and she always knew what to say to keep me from being sad. I started to love her like my own, but she was n't like most children. When I tried to discipline her, she would throw tantrems. When she had them, things moved on their own, it got cold very suddenly, electronics messed up, and when I really upset her, she would disappear leaving me with an empty house and silence. Brook's dad was n't in the picture. He lived in Miami with his job and a knew wife. We were lucky to get a birthday card from him. He had shown up at the funeral, but now, the only one in my humble little two bedroom house, was me. I guess I made Ella a bit of a priority, because people at worked started whispering about me. I think I let it slip that I was going home to play with Ella. I remember one of the others on the marketing team giving me this look and saying, `` Dianne, your daughter's name was Brook, and she died.'' I realized my mistake and changed the subject, but I noticed the pitty in the eyes of everybody in the break room. Ella started calling me at work, and I would stop working on a project to talk to her. This finally got back to my boss, and he called me in to his office about a week ago. Come to think of it, I came home that day to find the house empty. That's what it was. Frank had scared her away, him and all those rude people. It was almost time for me to go home when he called me in, `` Dianne, can I talk to you for a minute?'' he had asked as we passed in the hallway. I had obliged, so we met in his office. He closed the door; not good. `` Have a seat,'' he advised. I did, and he began, `` I do n't mean to put you on the spot like this, but everybody's worried about you. Have you been doing okay?'' `` Sure,'' I said. `` Well, people have said that you still act like Brook's alive. You take off early some days to play with her. People have walked by your office and heard you talking to a child on the phone. You even mentioned someone named Ella to Bryan last week. I'm just really concerned.'' I did n't quite know what to say, so I cleared my throat, trying to buy some time. Finally, I said, `` Yeah, I remember that. I was taking care of my neighbor's little girl while she was in the hospital getting a hysterectomy.'' `` Are you sure Dianne?'' he asked. He was giving me an out. I had done this with Brook on more than one occasion. It was another way of saying, `` If you confess right now, we can pretend you just misspoke or misunderstood the question, something like that, but why was he doing that? What did he know? He helped me out. Producing a printout, he said, `` Look here, this is the log from our phone system. It logs every call. One of the other team members was walking by and heard you yesterday. She said it sounded like you were talking to a child. I wondered who you might be talking to, so I looked up the log. You'll see it shows incoming, outgoing, or internal, that's if you call my office from your's, the number or extention calling, and the number or extention being called. After that, it shows the duration of the call. Each line has a time at the beginning, that's when the call took place. Now, when this person heard you on the phone, they texted me, so I knew what time of day it was. They actually looked in on you Dianne. You had your office's landline receiver in your hand, but this log does n't show any calls at that time. You were talking to a dial tone.'' I could n't speak, my mouth was dry and my palms sweaty, `` Maybe you started back a little too soon. I do n't know, but obviously, you're having some problems, and I want you to talk to somebody about it. Take as much time as you need, but I'm going to need a note from whoever you pick to help you before I can let you come back. I'm sorry Dianne.'' So I've been here, alone, for a whole week. There was no way in hell I was going to talk to some counselor. Noone would believe that Ella was real. Even I would n't if someone had told me.I did n't believe Brook, but now, I knew she was real. Ella was just as real as Brook had been. Now, I was pissed off. Why could n't people just mind their own business? I did n't think my job was affected, but so what if it was. These people had no business gossiping about me behind my back, and Frank had no right whatsoever to tell me I had to go see some psych doctor. That was pure unadulterated bullshit. They had taken my Ella away. Now, she may never come back. A few more days passed with me still putting off talking to a therapist, or shrink, or whatever Frank wanted, and I was still pissed. How was I going to pay my bills if I could n't work, but I was n't going to go to some doctor who would just label me mentally ill and make me take a bunch of pills. It was n't something I planned to actually carryout. I fantasized about mowing down those gossipy little bastards with an oozie, then I reasoned that it would be more practical to carry a pistol and several clips of ammunition. I could hide that better. I never knew I'd actually do it until I got to work with the gun in one pocket and five fresh new magazines, each loaded with ten bullets, in the other. They were all in the middle of a meeting. They were likely passing around progress reports about the latest project, but Sasha, one of the other marketing people, was in the lobby with a folder in her hand. She had likely left it in her car and had to go get it. She could've easily been the little snitch who heard me talking to Ella and sent Frank that text. `` Sent any texts lately?'' I asked. `` What are you talking about?'' she replied, looking at me as if I was crazy. Maybe I was. I shot her twice in the chest. I was surprised by how loud the gun was in that confined space and the fact that I had actually done it. She fell against the wallgasping for air. As the elevator stopped at the seventh floor, I could see blood dribbling from her mouth. `` Hey, did you hear,'' It was one of the security guards. I interrupted him with a shot from my newly purchased.38 and headed for the conference room. Since I had n't gone to see any mental health professional, there wasno chance for me to be flagged as a potential risk, so the process of getting the little pistol was quite easy. It was warm now. I burst in to the room with the others. They saw my gun and dove for cover, but I spied Frank; at the head of the big table as usual. I leveled my gun at him before he could duck and cover like the rest. `` You fucking bastard!'' I exploded, `` You took her away from me! Why could n't you just mind your own business?'' I was crying uncontrollably now, but I did n't care. I pumped four bullets in to my former boss, then walked over and put two more rounds in his head to make sure he was dead. I had never seen brain matter before that day, nor had I ever seen that much blood. I crouched and peered beneath the table. They all shrank back at the sight of my gun. `` Dianne honey wait,'' said a maternal voice. Veronica did office work like making copies and coffee on our floor. She was almost sixty and the sweetest woman I knew. She always sympathized when one of us was having a hard time. Each of us had, on at least one occasion, gotten a card from her placedon our desk, either to comfort or to congratulate. She continued, `` None of us meant to,'' The bullet made a mess of her nose as it entered. I saw the blood fan out behind her head telling me the projectile had gone all the way through. Someone vomited. I emptied my weapon, then reloaded and emptied it again. I had an idea then. I took Frank's car keys from his pocket and took the elevator normally used by maintenance people to the underground garage. There were sirens outside, but I looked before exiting the building. There were no police on this side yet. I ran to Frank's mursedes and calmly left the parking lot. Now, I'm home, and Ella still is n't here. I did all this for her. I'm going to get caught soon. It's only a matter of time before the police come to my home looking for me.Where is she? Why is n't she coming back? I called her name again and again but nothing. The house was silent.
[ WP ] You are a person cursed with the ability to experience the `` last moments '' of pain the animal/plant your food is made of when you taste it .	It was sudden and excruciating. Humane and ethical my ass!! `` Those sons of...'' was all I could say before swiftly vomiting. * It had been five long years since she had left. What was once a budding romance, shot to shit before my eyes. My pure and simple girl revealed herself to be an occult loving slut, seeking the divine through the entire neighborhood's zippers. This simple revelation was all it took to turn my whole world inside out. `` Pain!'' she promised me when I showed her the door, `` Pain like you have never known! Every moment, every second, everything that you love! What you enjoy most in this world, may it turn to dust'' Her mouth foamed with rage, each word bathing me in loathsome emotion so deep I could see no end. Looking back I really should have just killed her. Prison: the lighter alternative. The next day I noticed something over breakfast. A sharp pain in my neck with every bite of my grapefruit. Perhaps I had slept wrong. I tossed the fruit, and went to work, slightly unsatisfied and ruffled, but more focused on hiding the pain of my breakup from my co-workers. A pleasant morning ensued, just enough to keep my mind off of the tramp that I loved less than 24 hours earlier. The sandwich cart came off the elevator and the lack of breakfast came rushing back to me all at once. I nearly bowled poor Susan over getting to the cart first. `` Tuna on rye, Lays and a Coke'' I beamed as I handed over my cash, returning to my desk gleefully. A quick unwrap with a flourish, and I launched myself at the sandwich with vigor. God it was good! Everything on my desk went flying as I flailed around. I could n't breath! `` Oh my god'' I thought, `` Why ca n't I breathe?'' It was as though someone had yanked every bit of breathable substance from around me at once. I could feel my eyes bulge as my lungs burned. My blood was draining. Cold all over the world sunk into darkness. * That was my first experience with this curse that I remember. Trial and error soon revealed to me what that whore had left me with. Simply, I feel what anything I eat felt before dying. `` Pain'' she promised, and pain I got. This humanely prepared chicken would be my last painful mean though, if I could help it. `` Roger!'' the cry came from below my feet, `` Roger, please let me out!'' I smiled slowly as I felt the axe cut the neck yet again. This mouthful did n't make me vomit. I knew it was coming, and relished the feeling. `` Roger, I can take it back! I can undo the curse!'' she pleaded, now very obviously in tears, `` Just please let me go!'' `` I'll be down in a moment'' I replied loftily, chuckling under my breath. `` We have a lot to hash out, and I would hate to rush things'' I gathered up my tools: a saw, a few knives of assorted sizes, a hammer and a handful of 8d nails. `` Oh shoot!'' I clucked, as I stepped back quickly, `` Ca n't forget you, my friend!'' Frying pan in hand I tangoed to the door, relishing every moment. For the first time in five years, I could n't wait to feel what my dinner had in store for me.
[ WP ] A famous pornstar signs up for a 'do a fan ' scene . Unexpectedly , when she meets him , she falls instantly head over heels in love with him . However , the oblivious fan interprets her advances as all being part of the scene they 're filming .	There once was a She-Who, a Lady-Who-Fucker, Essentially she was a videoed hooker, She made herself famous with naughty striptease, Before getting jizzed on while down on her knees. The money rolled in, just like they would say: “ From one to five thousand dollars a day ”. Then in came the fan mail, from many a man-male, Her manager thought Well how can this plan fail: We ’ ll choose a fan-Who and put him in a scene, He ’ ll fuck the Who-Lady up there on the screen! Then when the day came ( the day he would too ), In walked the Who-Fan to meet the She-Who. The moment she saw him she rolled her eyes “ Kill me ”, The ironic slogan, Wait, is that a trilby? He ’ s sweaty and wheezing - God, look at that rash, So she just closed her eyes, and thought of the cash. But as he thumbed-in his bumbling Who-bone, She felt something magic, and let out a moan. In all of her years of videoed spasm, She once never had a true Who-orgasm. But now, as his neck beard, brushed up in her face, She felt herself go to a wonderful place. She bucked and she buckled, she fucked and she fuckled, “ Wow, this is just like the movies ” he chuckled. “ Keep going, that ’ s perfect ” screamed the Director, Watching her writhe as the sweaty Who wrecked her. She got on her knees, and she looked up above, As he sprayed his Who-seed she thought about love. She pondered the twinge in her vag and her heart, The future they ’ d have from this sticky Who-start, But he tipped his fedora and said “ That was fun ”, Then left her, dejected, and covered in cum.
[ WP ] A man and woman in a long term relationship participate in an experiment where they switch bodies	The last thing I remember before the procedure was looking at my wife. We were strapped to medical examination tables, sitting up and facing each other as they injected the sedative into our arms. `` I love you.'' `` I love you too.'' When I woke up, I expected to see my body on the other table. Instead, I was looking at my wife. My head felt a bit heavier from the headphones I was wearing. `` I guess it did n't work?'' I asked the nurse that was checking my vitals. `` I'll get the doctor.'' She replied. Her voice sounded strangely deep. I looked at my wife. Her hair was tied up behind her. She was wearing one of those hospital gowns. I winked at her, she winked at the same time. That's strange I thought, She usually does n't do the winking. I turned my head towards the door as the doctor came in. My wife did the same. `` Hello, Steve. How are you feeling?'' Again, the sound was too deep. `` I'm fine. I guess the test did n't go as planned?'' `` It gave us some unusual results, Steve. Let me grab those headphones off your head.'' He grabbed the headphones from my head. `` What resul...'' I stopped. My voice. It was n't mine. It was too high pitched. `` It worked!'' Oh my god, it worked!'' I looked at my wife. Wait. I moved my hand. So did she. It was a mirror. I touched my face. `` Oh, my god.'' `` Yes. The test was a success.'' the Doctor grinned. `` I just talked with Jennifer. She's getting set up in the recovery suite. I'll take you there now. Just keep in mind, there will be a balance issue. Your center of gravity has shifted considerably. Please use the handrails.'' The Doctor helped me stand. It felt weird as I gained my balance. We walked to the wall where I gripped the handrail. I stared at the hand as it gripped. My hand. My wife's hand. It was quite a bit to take in. We walked down the hallway to the door labeled'recovery'. He opened the door and we went inside. `` Jennifer?'' I asked `` Steve!'' my body turned around. It tripped as he came close. `` Sorry! still getting used to walking with these long legs of yours.'' `` You two get settled. We have some other exams for you in the morning.'' We looked around the suite. A bed, a dresser that turned out to be filled with scrubs with the word'patient' written in bold letters across the front and back. A bathroom. A TV and a stack of books. We settled in, and ended up showering together. As exciting as the thought of sex was, it was more practical to keep each other from falling over in the slippery shower. We talked about our bodies as we toweled off. The next morning we walked to the exam room again. The doctor was waiting for us. `` Folks, I have some bad news.'' his face was grim. `` One of our interns forgot to complete one of the tests yesterday before we did the procedure.'' the Doctor explained. `` Had we known, we would not have proceeded.'' `` What is it?'' I asked `` Steve, Jennifer, You're pregnant.'' He shrugged. `` If we had known we would have stopped the procedure. At this stage, we do not know if it has damaged the fetus, or.. or anything really.'' `` how far along?'' `` around four weeks.'' The Doctor replied. `` Shit.'' I said. `` Honey, are you ok?'' Jennifer asked me. `` I do n't know.'' I looked at the doctor. `` What are the options?'' `` Option one; abort. We can do it immediately, but we do n't know what kind of psychological effects this can have on a male in a female body getting such a procedure done.'' `` Option two; We try another transfer. We do n't know what will happen. I do not recommend this. We got lucky once, but there's no telling if one of you might switch with the baby.'' `` Option three; We do nothing, then once the baby is delivered, we can switch you back.'' I looked at my wife. `` We're going to need to talk about it, Doctor.'' Jennifer nodded. `` Alright. I hope I can have an answer no later than tomorrow morning.'' He opened the exam room door for us. `` I'll see you soon.'' That night was one of the hardest we've ever had. We did n't sleep. It was abort or deliver, since it was possible that one of us could die if we tried to transfer again. `` I'm going to keep it, Jen.'' I said as I stared out at the sunrise. `` Are you sure?'' `` Yes.'' We told the doctor the decision. `` I understand, but lets get this part out of the way. Steve, Jen, you guys are going to have to act like the other for the time being. JEN.'' He looked at me, `` You're going to have a bit of an easier time, since you can blame the pregnancy. STEVE,'' he looked at my'husband', `` You're going to have to have a few cram sessions with Jen about work and such. We'll keep you here until you are confident in your abilities to blend in.'' -- -- -- -- We eventually found it easier to move away and start over. We kept the doctor informed about everything as it was going on. The lab even paid for some of the moving expenses, and provided Steve with some temporary work during the transition. It was n't too long before that baby showed up. They say it's 40 weeks, but it's shorter than you think. I held the baby to my breast as I fed him. `` I ca n't change back, Steve.'' Steve kissed my forehead. `` I understand. I do n't think I could after that either.'' -- -- -- - -016
[ WP ] Two dads wearing apparel denoting them as `` World 's Greatest Dad '' run into each other . As per the Dad rulebook , the must have a Dad-Off to determine the true World 's Greatest Dad .	Another Idea I had: Anaheim Tribune Father's Day Massacre, Disneyland ^^June ^^19, ^^1989 A new rule was implemented at Disney World today after what some are calling the groan heard around the world. Disneyland will no longer allow # 1 Dad apparel on father's day nor will any be sold in their stores. Thousands of families descended upon Disneyland yesterday for a day of fun in the sun and to celebrate the men who had the fun part of creating their children. Disneyland, however, was not the happiest place on Earth. Most days there is usually one or two dadoffs, usually a noon toon-town dad-down, if you will. Two fathers take part in the age old ritual of determining who really is the # 1 Dad or World's Greatest Dad. This year, however, was a perfect storm. Disney handed out # 1 Dad Mouse-ear hats. Soon, the entire park was flooded with `` Nice to meet you tired, I'm dad.'' The dadoffs became worse and worse. Soon, all across the park you could hear wives slapping their foreheads, kids groaning, and teens rolling their eyes. By the end of the day, three hundred fathers were stuck repeating the same six puns. They're receiving treatment. Among the other casualties are wives with indents in their foreheads, over six thousand children lost their voices from groaning, and two thousand teenagers are being treated for eyes rolling so hard they are permanently crossed. President of Disney has released a statement issuing an apology stating the # 1 Dad ears were short-sighted and he apologizes for such an oversight. A dad in the audience responded, `` but ears ca n't see!'' It seems we will be recovering for a long time.
[ WP ] He was once a world famous celebrity chef , but after a freak auto accident renders his hands injured , he must now seek a more spiritual means to heal his body . Gordon Ramsay is Gordon Strange .	“ Ok, enough with the Feng Shui bullshit, ” Ramsay argued. He stood in the middle of a secluded temple in the heart of the Himalayas amongst men and women adorned in plain, brown robes. Ramsay himself still dressed in the hiking gear he used to traverse the treacherous mountains, he hands lingered by his side. His fingers bent in any direction they pleased while the bones, once lined up neatly and parallel to each other, now were crooked and distorted, rendering cooking an impossibility. “ How does any of this heal my hands? ” “ With time and patience, ” a calm monk replied. “ That ’ s fucking bullshit fortune cookie advice, and you know it, ” Ramsay fired back. “ Listen, I met one of your students. Levitt. He broke his back, leaving him paralyzed from the neck down, until he visited this…this monastery. If you can fix his back, you can fix my hands. ” The monk calmly rose from her seat and approached the irate chef. Placing her index and middle fingers upon Ramsay ’ s brow, the world immediately melted into a million flavors. The once quaint temple transformed into a kitchen with a million corners on which ingredients danced. The fires of the stove consumed the surrounding area, while the freezer fought the flames with ice. Carrots, leeks, beef, and milk poured through the room, each making its distinct nuances of flavor known through the air as the aroma gently fondled Ramsay ’ s nose. His stomach let out a low moan as dishes prepared themselves into extravagant meals fit for extraordinary souls. With the meals on the carts, they bust through the kitchen door, which tore the walls down into trillions of lit particles as Ramsay found himself in a dining room filled with tables wrapped in red cloth as far his eyes could see. Chairs with satin seats flew through the air before finding themselves neatly under tables with all the rigidity and beauty of diamonds. Flames dimly lit the room as the hovered above the tables and each meal cart organized themselves to a table, revealing filet mignon matched with an accompanying glass of wine and roasted and seasoned potatoes at one table while another displayed oven roasted chicken season with rosemary and thyme with a side of mashed potatoes with a texture so soft, Ramsay could almost feel the flavors melt in his mouth. Before he could react, Ramsay found himself on the floor with the calm monk overlooking him. Without much hesitation, he lunged to his feet and seized her robes and begged, “ Teach me. ” “ Wong will escort you to your room, ” the monk answered. “ You will wake up at 5:00 AM tomorrow morning and receive instruction. If you are found adequate, we will begin your instruction in the mystical field of culinaromancy. ” ***** More Stories at r/Andrew__Wells
[ WP ] An all-powerfull wizard uses his powers to become an illusionist with a fairly successful show in Vegas .	`` Master Rivdet? Master, is that... you?'' A voice from a forgotten time asked. Rivdet flinched visibly at the use of the name before turning to face his questioner. Ah, of course. `` George... it's... it's nice to see you'' Rivdet finally stammered out. Scarlet crimson burned his cheeks. `` No one calls me Master anymore. Or even Rivdet. It's all Eli, the illusionist now.'' He gave a little half bow complete with flourish, smiling sheepishly. `` Eli, the illusionist?'' George asked, incredulously. `` Rivdet,'' he pointed from the doorway, `` You're a grand master!'' He began stepping towards him slowly, bearing down accusingly. Each step forward from George elicited a stooping half retreat back from Rivdet. `` You were the head master at the Citadel... You created the Puzzle of the Crimean... You inspired me to peruse magic... taught me how to wield it.'' Rivdet shrieked as his retreat from the advancing George was summarily stopped by a wall. George was close enough to see the slight sheen of sweat, the trembling lip, the pallid gauntness where once there was jolliness. George paused for a moment, before before grabbing a handful of Rivdet's shirt, the suddenness caused Rivdet to drop the bottle he was grasping with a clink and a clash. The aroma of cheap liquor mixed sickeningly sweetly with his unwashed flesh. They paused like this, George's breaths shaky and heavy. Rivdet's eyes, downcast. `` You were like a fa... You were like a fath...'' George's voice kept breaking. Both men fell silent and turned to stare at the doorway at the sound of approaching heels from the hall. `` Honey?'' A feminine voice asked, cautiously. `` In here,'' George responded hoarsely, shoving Rivdet to the ground hastily. George glanced in the mirror, composed quickly, and intercepted the woman with both arms as she turned into the dressing room. Sounds of concern bubbled over rosy red lips as she glimpsed a man strewn across the floor. George shushed her gently, embracing and lifting her out of the room in a manner that left no room for argument. `` Who, was that? Do n't you...'' The words became indistinguishable except for a last parting, ``... Do n't you shush me, George!'' that soon faded into the background, replaced by the soft sounds of machinery a gentle sobbing. Rivdet lay on the ground for a long moment, the liquor seeping through his clothes. Eventually the sound of sobbing subsided, replaced by breathing, and then even that became inaudible. Ridvet collected himself off the ground, and looking around, gathered himself around another bottle for company. As he found himself more and more in the bottle, the dressing room faded into blackness....... `` Ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, Carlton's Hotel is proud to present the greatest spectacle of modern age! For your care and presentation we present you with...'' And the lights kicked on a stage and in the center he stood for scrutiny. The problem was from a distance you could n't see the telltale shake, feel the sopping wet sleeve, or smell the putridness. No, from a distance, all you could see was... ``....Eli! The Illusionist!''
[ WP ] A superhero fails to save the day at an elementary school .	Newspapers selling by the bulk, and the article reads, `` Is it a bird? Its a plane''. The chilling first lines of the article left this superhero embarassed and ashamed. It read `` It is hard for parents to mourn the loss of relatives, let alone their flesh and blood. Fifteen children aged between 6 and 11 have become victims of a massacre situating in Austin elementary school.'' A note found within the elementary schools toilet read.'' Left alone in darkness as shame eclipses any sense of justice left. I may have not worn a mask or a cape but I believed in justice. I was my son's batman and he my robin.'' The body of the father was lifeless, the farmiliar emotion on the day that his son was taken away from him. The man's life had not ended when his airpipes were torn and when his lungs collapsed from a lack of oxygen, his life had ended the moment his son left this world.
[ WP ] Wikipedia is shut down and all copies deleted for lack of funds and loss of net neutrality . This is the founder 's `` I warned you , jerks '' notification .	Dear Wikipedia Readers: We ’ ll get right to it. We ’ ve never asked for much, maybe a few dollars here and there—to be honest, we've averaged maybe $ 15 in donations. That ’ s it. Did you know that 99 % of other charities average $ 15,000 per day? Probably not, because we made that statistic up. Do you know why we made it up? We ’ re pretty sure you know why we made that up. We want to make it abundantly clear that we at Wikipedia tried our best to keep our website a non-profit. For over a decade, we ’ ve run and maintained the largest free encyclopedia in existence, never once portraying so much as a single advertisement on any of our millions of pages. Do you remember the days of Encyclopedia Britannica, where you ’ d need to hire several burly, Swedish bodybuilders to lug half the compilation to your Psychology 101 class, just so that you could understand who the hell Sigmund Freud was? Probably not, because that was almost a hundred years ago. Is that date completely and utterly made up? Absolutely, but you know why. However, if for some reason you haven ’ t caught on yet, keep reading. Here at Wikipedia, we, the editors, made our requests simple and clear: we just needed $ 3 from some of our visitors once every few years. That ’ s it. Three dollars. With that, we could ’ ve kept running for decades. Yet a total of fourteen of you donated this year, giving us a result of $ 74.32 raised ( and to the jerk who sent 32 cents, thanks for costing us money to receive your donation ). Do you know how much you spend on Starbucks every week? $ 27. You spend twenty-seven dollars on Starbucks. Every. Single. Week. Is that statistic made up? Yes. Do you know why it ’ s made up? We ’ re positive you do. As many of you are aware, Net Neutrality was struck down this year, resulting in heavily increased costs for Wikipedia to maintain its servers and remain equally accessible to all Internet Service Providers. As such, we at Wikipedia were met with a difficult choice: either we could put a few banner advertisements on the website, which would net us millions—if not billions—of dollars, but sacrifice our integrity and the reliability of our content; or we could depend on you, our trusted, loyal visitors, to donate less than a tenth of your weekly paycheck. As we had such blind faith in our beloved users, we decided to decline all advertisement offers and move forward with our previous plan of funding: donations. After all, we ’ ve always survived on the measly funds gained by you, our greedy, selfish users. In order to continue functioning as a company, we at Wikipedia, a non-profit library of endless information, needed to raise a total of $ 3,000,000. We raised $ 74.32. Seventy-four thirty-two. The average 14 year old child makes twice that in a single day of basketball. Is that fact actually a completely made up statement? It absolutely, positively is. Yet here ’ s the issue: due to the fact that none of you donated more than what a hypothetical, athletic child earns, Wikipedia has officially closed its doors as a non-profit as of December 10th, 2014. You can no longer trust statistics that were once reliably provided by us through our pages. That ’ s right, we ’ re done, out, closed. It ’ s over. “ But Wikipedia, I ’ m on your site right now. I ’ m reading this notice on your website this very moment. ” Great observation, Captain. You are a very astute learner. You are most certainly on Wikipedia right now. Yet you might notice something a bit strange about it. For example, have you taken note of the fact that every single page now incorporates references to Comcast and their excellent products, and those that don ’ t simply redirect to Comcast ’ s Wikipedia page ( heavily edited by their glorious lawyers )? Why don ’ t you go ahead and search the word “ Cats. ” Do it, we ’ ll wait. Have you searched it yet? Great. Did you know that the average feline prefers Comcast ’ s XFINITY^® to Verizon? Of course they do, it ’ s just a better product all around—Wikipedia clearly explains that. How about the fact that the most common cat in the United States is the XFINITY Triple Play™? “ That doesn ’ t make any sense ” you say? Well, according to Wikipedia-Comcast^® it most certainly does. We here at Wikipedia-Comcast^® are proud to announce our long-awaited merger with Comcast, allowing us to become a publicly traded company and fully incorporate their great line of products and services into any and all encyclopedia entries. Reading a great excerpt on Shakespeare ’ s beloved tragedy Romeo and Juliet? You may just be lucky enough to find a fantastic coupon to save 10 % on your already low monthly Comcast bill. Checking out the results from the 1972 World Series? Whoa—a free month of HBO on Comcast ’ s renowned television services! Of course, this also means that all Wikipedia pages are no longer editable. Our lawyers also want us to mention that all Wikipedia pages have been stripped of citations that have not approved by Comcast and that all entries should no longer be taken as fact, although they certainly will be chock-full of money saving offers from Comcast. Wikipedia-Comcast^® would like to thank you for the decades of experiences you, our loyal, devoted fans, have granted us. For more than half of our average user ’ s life, we have stood by you, supported you through your education, allowed you to plagiarize your way through college and beyond. We are eternally grateful for the opportunity to have assisted you, and would like to conclude our farewell on a very simple, basic note. For a limited time, sign up for Comcast ’ s XFINITY Triple Play™ using the code “ Wikipedia ” to automatically be updated to the “ HD Preferred ” package, a $ 199/month value for just $ 189/month. ______________________ ^If ^you ^enjoy ^my ^writing ^style, ^feel ^free ^to ^check ^out ^some ^of ^my ^other ^short ^stories [ ^in ^my ^brand-spanking-new ^subreddit ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/ChokingVictimWrites/ ) ^or [ ^on ^my ^website! ] ( http: //wordsontheinternet.org/ )
[ WP ] Everyone has a spirit animal that they can also transform into . There 's the usual stuff like wolves , lions , chickens etc . But you , you can transform into an otter ... and this makes you one of the greatest assassins , because no one would ever suspect an adorable otter .	The biggest problem was that my target was scared of otters. How does that happen? Do n't ask me. Traumatic childhood experience, I assume. It makes everything harder, but where there's a will ( and a paycheck ) there's a way. I sit at a desk in my safe house and I try to come up with a plan when an idea hits me like a pendulum in the nuts. I go to the costume store and get supplies. I am ready for the mission. I sneak onto the grounds of my target's villa. I put on fake cat ears on my head and I meow. I meow and I meow, until my target's daughter finds me. She is smitten with me and she picks me up and takes me inside and shows me to her father, my target. He smiles at her and pets me. I rip the cat ears off my head and hold up a knife to his throat. `` What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?'' I kill him and make my escape through the chimney. Back inside my safe house I phone my employer. `` The mission has been,'' I say and put on my sunglasses, `` an otter success.''
[ WP ] You are demon that offers people contracts in exchange for their soul . However , the more you talk to your most recent client , the less certain you are that they have one ...	As we walked down the sidewalk I began to notice that he did n't care for anyone around him. He was in a pearl white suit that seemed to glisten in the sun. I was in my usual flat black suit with the blood red shirt beneath it. `` Demon, you do n't seem too enthused by my comments.'' His snarky tone dug into my flesh. `` It's as if you do n't understand where I'm coming from.'' `` Normally, when I am summoned, people jump at the fact that they're trading their souls to me for something. You seem too busy telling me how revolting you find everyone around you.'' `` You see, demon'' he replied quickly, `` Life is about happiness, and if you are n't happy what are you?'' `` I-'' `` You are nothing without happiness.'' He added coldly. Rape victims, sex slaves, the homeless, and those around us surrounded by misfortune.. they did it to themselves.'' He was very stern at this point, as if nothing could phase him.. As if he had seen it all. `` I'm here for a job. Let's get to it. What do you-'' `` I'm not done, Demon.'' His tone was fierce. This was no ordinary human. Something was wrong.. `` NOW, as I was saying.. Those around us-'' `` ENOUGH!'' I erupted into flames. I could feel my anger growing. Heat flowing off of my coat in every direction. `` Tell me what it is that you desire! I will not be toyed with!'' `` Now, now, Demon.. No need to be rude. This is my nicest suit. I dressed up for you! Do n't I look nice? I had it done for this very occasion! Compliment me.'' He was serious. He brushed his sleeves and continued his stroll. `` What is wrong with you?'' I asked. He was n't phased by the flames. If anything he was.. annoyed? As we walked he was rude to every person in his way, and they all seemed to flow around him. It was as if they were wrong if they did not move out of his way. `` Demon, may I call you demon? Well I'm going to regardless. Watch this!'' He walked over to a man waiting to cross the street and pushed him in front of a bus. `` Why would you... What is wrong with... I do n't understand..'' I stood there, awestruck at the fact that he had just murdered someone in broad daylight. Everyone around us ran to help, and he continued walking. No one stopped him. `` Are you going to-'' `` DEMON! SHUT UP!'' He grabbed a cane from an old man and spun it around excitedly. `` What is-'' `` That's enough out of you.'' He enjoyed interrupting me, I could tell by the snarl that emerged on his face. `` You are here to do a job for me. The customer is always right!'' He leaned forward and threw the cane from hand to hand, staring at me in cold silence. We both just stared at each other. I could n't see the scene of the accident anymore, but I could hear it all behind me. `` Demon.'' `` Lu-'' `` Just look! Look at the chaos that happens when ONE person dies!'' He was ecstatic. `` Imagine if I could start something.. Big.'' He was insane. He wanted mass hysteria, rioting, and murder! I could see it in his eyes. I had seen that look before. `` Demon, do you know what I want?'' `` No. Tell me.'' My patience was running thin. `` I want you to join me.'' `` I do n't understand, Luke.'' I was confused. This.. human.. who seemed to be so heartless.. so soulless.. THAT WAS IT! `` You do n't even have a soul to give me, do you?'' He said nothing but laughed. He laughed much harder than he should have, and it confused me. It scared me. It was the first time I had ever been frightened by a human.. and it was one who's soul I was supposed to take. `` My name is Lucifer, not Luke. I want you to join me. Demon, I have watched you. You will lead the revolution. You gave power to some of the most corrupt leaders of all time, and now.. you will lead the army of Hell.''
[ WP ] Humanity is faced with incontrovertible evidence that an afterlife is real , it holds an eternal paradise beyond any worldly pleasure , and admission is guaranteed to everyone without discrimination for their actions while alive .	By the time they called his name, Jamal was dead on his feet. A double shift and a broken coffee machine would do that to you. Then there was the code blue right before he could clock out. It ’ s like these fuckers know when I ’ m going off shift to try to kick the bucket on me, he thought. Then when that was over, he was shuffled into this room with everyone else. He didn ’ t even have a chance to change out of his scrubs. One by one, the each of his co-workers had their names called, and left the room. They did not return. Might as well get this over with, he thought, as he shuffled into the room The room looked pretty much like he expected it to. Bare wall on three sides, a ‘ mirror ’ that wasn ’ t fooling anyone on the other. A simple table in the middle. Two folding chairs, one on each side. One of them was occupied by a woman in a sharp, black, skirt suit. Her shoes alone probably cost more than his car. Fucking lawyers. “ Sit down, Mr. Brown, ” she said, not bothering to look up. Jamal rolled his eyes, but took the offered seat. Better to just cooperate. He ’ d get out of here faster. The woman seemed to have another idea; even after he sat, she went right on with her tablet. Swiping, taping, reading. Never once looking up at him. Jamal had no idea how much time had passed. There was no clock in the room, and of course they had taken is phone and watch when he came on shift that day. He cleared his throat. The woman didn ’ t look up. He tried coughing. No response. Fast coming up on 20 hours awake, his temper began to fray. “ Can we do this, or what? ” he finally snapped. That got her attention. She set the tablet down, and fixed him with a stare that was like ice, cutting through his anger and drowsiness. “ Who killed Patient 12483? ” she asked. Jamal blinked. “ What. ” The woman pushed the tablet across the table at him. He picked it up. It was playing recorded footage of the patient ’ s room, and he couldn ’ t believe his eyes. Not because they were cameras in the patient's rooms, he had always assumed that there were, but because of what he saw. A figure in scrubs and a surgical cap entered the room. They were very careful to keep their back to the camera ( they know where it is? How? I worked here for a year and I don ’ t even know! ). They paused at Patient 12483 ’ s bedside, placing a hand on the comatose man ’ s chest, as it rose and fell in perfect sync with the machine. Then they straightened and with a speed that spoke of practice, produced a syringe from their pocket, stuck it into the socket on 12483 ’ s IV bag and pushed the plunger all the way in. They were done and out of the room in less time that it took for Jamal to whisper “ What the fuck…? ” “ The code blue was called two minutes later, ” said the woman, and Jamal wrested his attention from the tablet to back up to her. “ You were the first nurse to respond. Yet according to the floor schedule, you were supposed to be doing rounds on the otherwise of the wing. How is it you got to the room so fast? ” Jamal blinked, surprised. His eyes then narrowed as an altogether different emotion took over. “ Hey, watch it, lady! ” I would never --'' “ The person in the video is your height, with your build, had the access level needed to obtain the lethal concoction 12483 was injected with. You just so happened to be nearby to respond first, despite being assigned the furthest away. This was clearly and inside job and the our liability –'' The tenuous grip on his temper snapped. Jamal jumped to his feet and slammed his hand on the table “ Don ’ t you talk to me about fucking liability! I would never kill a patient! Especially that one! Do you know who he was? What he did?! ” If the woman was impressed by his outburst, she didn ’ t show it. “ Patient 12483 was -- ” she began. “ No! Not 124 what-the-fuck ever! His goddamn name! Arthur Sacklebart! The Woodsby Slayer! How many little boys did he murder, rape, and eat? How many of those were ‘ lucky ’ enough for him to do it in that order? And you ’ re going come in here and accuse me of sending him off to Paradise? Fuck that, and fuck you! He shouldn ’ t get to live in bliss for all eternity. None of the sick fucks in here do! Their sentience was Life, Without the Possibility of Paradise, and that ’ s just how we mean to keep them! ” Jamal took a moment to catch his breath. In a calmer voice, he added, “ The legal department will have to look elsewhere for its which hunt. No one here would have killed him. We hated him too much. ” The lawyer regarded him for serval moments, her icy blue eyes revealing nothing. “ You ’ re dismissed, Mr. Brown. But we ’ ll be in touch. ” Jamal was still fuming as he was cleared at the main gate, and his phone and watch returned to him. He as still shaking as he sat in his car. Sacklebart dead. Fuck. What was the point of all this, if filth like that slipped through the cracks to Happiness Everlasting? He started the car and drove home with a weary sigh. No said working at a prison would be easy. And if the older timers were right, it would never get any easier.
[ WP ] Alternate universe where emotional scars are visible on the body	I smiled at the child peering over the bus seat at me. She smiled shyly back, but her gaze kept drifting curiously to staring to the side of my face. I tried to discreetly cover the fresh pink skin on my cheek but it only made her stare more. Her mother finally leaned back and pulled her gently forward, chastising the young one quietly. I squirmed in my seat, now aware that the gentlemen next to me was staring as well. After a moment, he spoke up. `` Are you alright? That wound looks........recent.'' I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable with the attention. `` I'm....fine. Just tired.'' And annoyed. Now that I had one on my face, everyone felt the need to pry into my personal business. I just wanted to be left alone. `` Are you sure there is n't anything you....'' `` No. Thank you.'' I deliberately turned to face the window, ignoring the sigh from the right. It's not that I did n't appreciate the offer. But when you had visible scars, everyone took it upon themselves to be a psychologist. Thankfully, the bus rolled to a gentle stop then, and the man stepped off with a almost regretful glance back at a me. But to my surprise, as soon as he got up another person sat down. A woman this time. I gritted my teeth, wondering what this person's approach would be. `` I see you've joined the club.'' She murmured. Caught off guard, I turned toward her. A gaze across her face revealed a extremely long and deep scar running from a corner of one eye to the jawline. I caught myself wondering what her story was. But by now I knew better. `` Recently.'' I agreed, allowing myself to let down my guard. She nodded, and leaned back against the seat. `` Anything you need just let me know.'' `` Well, I'm moving out of state. Looking for a new job. Heard of anything?'' I spoke, and she smiled. `` Washington has some opportunities opening up. For people like us too. You should try there.'' `` I appreciate that. Thanks.'' `` Anytime. People like us, we need to stick together.'' I glanced around at the rest of the bus, and agreed. It seemed like everyone was staring. What they did n't have anything better to do then look at the `` damaged goods''? I snorted angrily. Scars were just that. Scars. They heal with time. So why did nobody understand that?
[ WP ] The last moments of a moth caught in a sticky trap .	Hungry. Flapping wings. Heart beating. Faster. Faster. Must find food. Energy draining. Flapping wings. Heart beating faster. Nothing around. So hungry. A smell. Sugary. Energy. Wings flap harder. Must find food. Smell grows closer. Follow smell. Smells good. Land. Bite at sweet smell. Tastes foul. Is not food. Must find food. Flap wings. Flap wings harder. Heart beats, fear courses through body. Must find food. Not moving. Face and feet stuck. Breathing difficult. Sweet smell, no food. Heart beats faster. Fear grips body. * Can not move* Try to breathe. Heart beating too fast. Must rest. -- -- Can not move. Energy low, gut in pain. Body weak. Legs weak. Face stuck, every breath harder to take. Eat. Foul taste. Flap wings. Right wing stuck. Flap wings harder. Right wing does not move. Heart beating faster. Must rest. -- -- Must find food. So hungry. Sweet smell, foul taste, no food. No energy. Stomach paining, legs weak. Abdomen stuck. Flap wings, neither move. Breathing sweet smell, try to eat. Can not move mouth. Taste is foul. Is no food. So hungry. Must rest.
[ WP ] A new designer drug hits the streets that has a strange amnesia-like effect : users can experience activities as if it was their first time . ( Example : watching the Sixth Sense for the hundredth time without remembering the twist . )	It was a Thursday morning when Dan noticed the other door in their house. He did n't remember it, which was unsettling, considering that they had purchased the one-bedroom on the end of the triplex, with a small yard out back. A one-bedroom does not usually have two rooms on the top floor, Dan thought to himself as he stepped down the stairs. His phone buzzed, reminding him of several missed calls from his mother, but he ignored it, too busy. As it was a Thursday though, he rushed out to catch the tram to work, putting the door to the back of his mind where it promptly was forgotten. He sent a message to his mum while at work to apologize for skipping her calls, as he was an honest man -- part of why Abigail married him. Abigail texted partway through the day that she had a clinical appointment after work, can you please take care of dinner? So Dan picked up some groceries on his way back, juggling his keys and some bags as he came up the walk to his door, stepping over a piece of blue chalk, skipping a stair and then finally into the house. He grilled some chicken and asparagus, which they had n't eaten in awhile. Was it because Abigail did n't like it? Someone did n't like it, Dan remembered. He'd have to ask during dinner. After dinner, during which all of the asparagus was eaten, and catching up on a new show season he and Abigail had been meaning to get to ( a bit less exciting than the previous, and they were missing one of the side-characters whom had been quite interesting ), Dan followed her upstairs to the bedroom. Then, he saw the door again, opposite theirs in the hall. `` Abi?'' `` Yeah?'' she replied from the bathroom. `` Have you... do you remember this door here?'' he asked. `` I ca n't hear you sweetie, I've got the tap on.'' She turned the tap on, and began to wash her face, white noise filling the hall. Dan opened the door. He remembered. It was the second bedroom, smaller than theirs. It was dim, the bedspread very slightly dusty, washing out the bright colors of the rockets on the sheets. Dan stood in the doorway. His legs grew weak, almost falling. He caught himself on the dresser beside the door. There was a pill-bottle there, in soft Amneia-trademark blue, halfway empty. Dan joined Abigail in the bathroom, swallowed a pill with some water, and wiped his eyes. `` Are you alright? What's wrong?'' she asked. `` What? Oh, nothing. I think something just went in my eye,'' he said.
[ WP ] At 2 a.m. every night you hear the wailing of a train somewhere in the darkness . The only thing is , the tracks have long been dug up or grown over . The tracks have layed unused for over 50 years .	Towering into the sky the trees were black shadows, outlined by the light of the moon behind grey clouds. I drew my gaze from the peaceful view and looked around me; the forest I was in was dark; the shadows from my lantern being cast, long and threatening, over the glowing eyes of watching beasts. The whisper of the wind slipped through the hundreds of trees, touching my cheek carefully as I once more pondered if what I was doing was the correct course of action. I would have it known, of course, that I am a learned and well-educated man in the manner of most things, one of those being the ethereal; the world in which our dreams reside and where we live. Because of this, I knew, I had every right to feel the tingling sensation of fear at the base of my spine; the occult was to be feared, for it could not truly be controlled. And by no further doubt in my mind did I know that the wailing locomotive that passes by every fortnight at exactly two o'clock in the morning was most incredibly supernatural. If one were to listen carefully during the passing of this ghostly train, one could hear the rattling of the train as it sped by on top of the overgrown, rusted, and broken rails that, denying the supernatural, could not possibly bear the weight or balance of a passing train. Indeed, it was with all of this in my mind that I still felt the slightest of shame that I felt that tingling sensation at the base of my spine, slowly creeping towards my neck. I examined the celestial bodies in the sky carefully; the locomotive would be coming by shortly and I had very little time left. I had left my dear, faithful wife sleeping soundly in bed -- for it was my curse to bear, to hear the rushing locomotive, my heart beating faster and faster as the train seemed to bear down on me in my own bed. And then I heard it: the faint whistling of the traveling locomotive; the whistle hung in the air like the single shrill scream of a panther in the dead of night. My hair stood on end, my heart pounded within my chest, and my soul seemed to stretch out of my body; I grew dizzy and leaned on a nearby Oak tree, its bark sharp and cutting under my skin. Again, the whistle! Again, my spirit seemed to leap from my body, my mind growing weak and my vision blurry. I stumbled forward through the crowded trees, the trees that now seemed to move forward menacingly, as if to bury me in their leaves. I traveled over fallen log, under hanging branch, and around large boulders. The shrill cry broke through the sound of my heavy panting and the crashing of branches, and my ears twitched, my eyes moved from hither to thither, trying desperately to locate the barreling train that I was going to miss. I fell into the clearing that held the broken rails and stumbled towards them, my gaze to the south. I could see nothing but darkness. I crawled onto the rails and felt them with bloodied hands; they were cold and covered in dirt and twigs. And then, as if in a dream, far ahead in the distance, a narrow beam of light shone through a gathering of trees. I struggled to stand, my heart beating a barbaric staccato. The shining light rounded a bend and then, in all its piercing, evasive light, it shone directly into me. I felt my soul lash violently to the side in protest, my mind, cast into indescribable throes of anguish, seemed to leave me all at once. Standing still, all within me my soul burning, I waited as the train, the screaming, shrill cry of the locomotive stabbing my heart, bore down on me. And as I stared into the light so did I descend into madness, all further doubts of the occult dashed against the cold truth of the supernatural, barreling towards me!
[ WP ] A Sociopath becomes the new president of the United States , write about the consequences this will have on the world .	`` sir our men are dying in the middle east'' screamed the general. `` how many?'' asked the president. The men of the oval office scrambled through the notes, but the president interrupted, `` you see how important it is, you did n't even pay it any mind to know the number, but i know the number and it is less than the amount of men who will die in conflict all across the world should the us get a bloody nose in the middle east.'' `` But sir...'' `` Do n't sir me... launch a full military operation take over the hole place and force them to get along, then commit to the UN that this is merely a peace operation and we will see to it that all the corporations in the area are nationalized and protected by the American people.'' The men all left the room and the president dialed his phone, `` you're gon na want to move all my assets into stock in Israel corporations and weapons manufacturers also sell anything in commodities relating to the middle east, buy a lot of oil and invest in green and alternative energies. Papa needs new shoes.''
[ WP ] The internet suddenly is gone forever , and 20 years later society has adapted	It was almost 11pm, or at least that was what my watch told me. I stared out over the pastel coloured houses that scattered the hill side all the way down to the beach where the water was wild and made so much noise. I often came out here to hear the crashing of the waves on warm nights like this. It ’ s been twenty years since I got stuck here, twenty years to the day in fact. April 22nd.'White out Wednesday,' that's what I like to imagine the press at home called it. Bet those print journalists who were told for years they were in a dying profession are laughing now. Arseholes. I guess it has n't been the worst situation in the world. It was hard to learn Greek, and a surprising amount of people on the island speak zero English. But I picked it up after two years. That's what I get for wanting to travel'off the beaten track,' stranded on an island with no local knowledge, no flight home and no one I know. In retrospect I did want'to get away from it all for a while' so I guess in a manner of speaking, I got what I wanted in the end. If what I wanted was a rugid travelling story I sure as hell got one. When White out Wednesday hit I was down to my last €30, I was about to book my flight back to the UK on my phone, sitting in some shitty Greek Taverna stealing the WiFi and nursing the final inch of my pint when suddenly the connection is lost. Typical. But not unexpected, it happened all the time. I found a new bar and stood outside pretending to look at the menu while I tried to login into their WiFi. They said they had it on the door but I guess it was down too. Come nightfall I was wandering the streets of Greece like a mad WiFi werewolf, eventually places started closing and I had to find somewhere to sleep. I slept on the streets for a whole week before Mrs. Samaras gave me a job serving drinks in the bar. She was such a sweet old woman; a surrogate mother, so to speak. My makeshift mummy. She died of a stroke and left the bar to me. That was almost 5 years ago. That woman saved my life and I'm never going to stop repaying her, this bar will become an institution of this island and her with it. I suppose you're wondering why I did n't fly back home as soon as I could. And in a way I sometimes still wonder that too, I've searched my mind for hundreds of hours and never came to a conclusion. The closest thing to an answer I have is that I just prefer it here. The city lights, the cynical people, the busy streets of London, the media, the late nights, the binge drinking, the expectations of my family and friends. It all just overloaded me, stressed me out, I was unhappy and worried and when I was n't either of those I would wind up believing I was forgetting to worry about something and stress myself even more. And not having the Internet would n't stop that from happening. Maybe they've gotten a little bit of WLAN working somewhere, or maybe people are bluetoothing each other songs and gifs. Maybe things are alright back home, I ca n't know that it is n't. One thing I do know is that right here, sitting on the grass, my moped parked a few yards away, my mind free and wandering, I'm actually happy. I sent my parents a postcard, told them I'd met a girl even though I had n't, said I'd come visit someday and bring her. Who knows, maybe I will. I do n't miss it though, I do n't miss much anymore. I do miss good booze though, I am so sick of drinking ouzo, it tastes like someone caressed your tonsil with a liquorice brillo pad. But here I am, sat on top of the hill looking down on my foreign home, drinking ouzo out the bottle, watching the sea hit the Isles and toasting to an old dead Greek lady. Its funny how things turn out. The sun was setting, I could see the curvature of the earth suggesting itself, the sky and the ocean reflected oranges and pinks. I looked down at my watch: 11:06. That's definitely fucking wrong.
[ WP ] As a teenager , you had jokingly signed up for the militia protecting your peaceful country . Now , as war looms in the horizon , you are being summoned for your training .	I really didnt think war could ever happen the bugs seemed so peaceful and we had a good relationship since we claimed the land. Being in the militas is really cool, the uniform looks so nice and it was just a big fun participating in this. But now the bugs suddenly declared war? I dont want to risk losing my life... next day The Federation responded very suprisingly harsh. They announced that they will send almost all of their troops ships and their newest ion weapons to our country to stablize the front first then to launch a massive counterattack. Even tho I like the bugs and that they accepted our colonizing and forming of our country almost 300 years ago I will kick their bug asses. I will finish them
[ IP ] On the Shore of the Sky	The wood creaks that familiar sound. Bare feet on dry wood feels comforting. The carefully shifting weight of an elderly stride. But this is no leisurely stroll, the she had walked down this dock a thousand times but this would be his last. The procession watched from the shore. It was kind of them to come. It was never easy to let go. Especially alone. Her arms grew tired. She carried two heavy weights. One in her heart and one in her arms. The heft showed on her tearful face. Her grown son's face was calm his body cold. She wished to see his smile once more. She wished she could have said more. Or did she say too much? The weight overtook her and she lost her balance but his body did not touch the dock. A mother's strength is something to behold. She came to his tiny ship. She placed her baby in his final crib. She took from around her neck a tiny compass. Something to show him the way. She tied the little sails and her hand would n't let go. How could she? She reached in and kissed him goodbye. The sails took him away quickly on his last adventure on the shore of the sky.
[ WP ] The world awaits as Voyager 1 makes its way past the Oort Cloud and finally leaves the solar system . As everyone at NASA begins celebrating , computers begin beeping . Voyager 1 has been detected hurtling towards Earth .	`` How is that even possible?'' James Holden, director of NASA, looked up from the report. `` It does n't make any sense! How sure are we?'' Thompson cleared his throat `` 99.999 %, decimal repeating, of course.'' Holden closed his eyes, put the report on his desk, and pinched the bridge of his nose `` So it's not an instrumentation problem, not some bizarre bouncing of the signal, Voyager 1 is actually coming back from the opposite side of our solar system?'' `` That seems to be the case, Jim.'' Donald Malamed, director of JPL gestured `` Thompson here has gone over the data several times. We've checked everything.'' `` What does this mean?'' Holden asked three other people in the room. `` We have a theory, I'll let Dr Farris explain.'' Malamed looked towards the young woman. `` Well sir, you ever play the game Asteroids? You exit one side of the screen and pop up on the other side with the same velocity and trajectory. It's like that.'' Farris shrugged `` seems it's possible our solar system could be the only thing in the universe. Or rather it is the universe.'' `` That does n't make sense! What about all the stars and galaxies that we can see out there! Ca n't this be some kind of fluke, like a wormhole or something?'' Holden picked up the report again, and began flipping through it. `` We wo n't know for sure till Voyager 2 gets as far as Voyager 1. But I suspect that it will do the same thing.'' Farris took a deep breath. `` I suspect that it's possible that everything we observe in the universe is our own solar system reflecting back at us, much the same way Voyager 1 did. Like a hall of mirrors looking into the past.'' She paused again. `` But we ca n't be sure, we need more data.'' The room was quiet, as Holden studied their faces. `` We're going to have to do a press release, we ca n't keep this quiet. I'll brief the President.'' Edit: made the directors names fictitious, and identified their positions. Edit 2: this is my first attempt at storytelling, so any tips or criticisms that would help me get better at it would be greatly appreciated!
[ WP ] `` If there is a God he will have to beg my forgiveness ''	Sir Javier sat atop a mountain of blood-stained bodies and wept. He still wore the robes and armor of a crusader, but the righteousness and will of god no longer felt as holy to him as it had once before. When he joined the armies marching east, he had been a young, impulsive, spiritual boy. He was inspired by the cries of `` Deus Vult'' from every window and doorway as the parade of soldiers marched through the town. But now, after watching his friends and fellow soldiers be slaughtered in foolish, fruitless charges against the deadly marksmanship of the infidels, he felt disgusted to crusade in the name of a god who would only kill the men who were carrying out his will. `` If there is a God.'' he choked out, from between clenched teeth, hot tears dripping down his cheeks and through his unshaven beard. `` He will have to beg my forgiveness.''
[ WP ] A person discovers they have a Super Power at the worst possible time .	Today was the day. John was finally ready to do what he'd been planning for so long. 31 years he'd put up with this shit. The fighting, the arguing, the depression. He'd known about all her affairs, all her other lovers... And he put up with every last bit of it. What good did it do to fight it? The courts never gave a shit about what men went through. So he took it. All of it. Until a week ago. When he drained his bank account to spend it on a week of complete debauchery. The drinking, the women, the drugs... It was one hell of a week, and he barely remembered any of it. He was fairly certain he'd contracted something of some sort, maybe knocked on of them up. He really did n't care. All that mattered was spending every last cent he'd ever earned in one last hurrah. He'd even told his boss to go fuck himself. Now THAT was a fun time. The fat bastard had turned several colors of pissed, before launching into a tirade. Not that he'd stuck around to listen. As soon as the flabby folds on his boss's neck began to vibrate, he'd turned around, and just walked out the door, winking at Mary, his boss's overly cute secretary, before he'd left. A shame he'd remained faithful to his horrid wife, really. Mary had never been one to be subtle about how she felt. But that was Monday. Today was Saturday, and he'd finally managed to blow every last cent. His whore wife would n't get anything at all after what he was planning. It was, looking back, the best damn time he'd ever had in his life. A veritable buffet of alcohol, women, and every mind altering substance he could get his hands on. And here he was. On top of the motherfucking MGM Grand! All the budgeting, all the saving, and this is what he had to show for it. A week of freedom! He looked out at the sunset. Such a beautiful sight. You did n't see anything like this slaving away in your cubicle, or living a boring ass life in Suburbia. A fitting symbol really, for what he was about to do. With one final look, John jumped off the top of the hotel. He savored the feeling of the wind in his face as he fell. A smile, the first real smile he'd had in ages, came to his face. Closing his eyes, he prepared for the inevitable crunch. Here it comes. he thought. The end. John slammed into the pavement in front of the hotel... and bounced down the road.
[ WP ] You turn on the news to see that all countries have banned all religion worldwide . effective immediately , and those who do not publicly recant will be sent to internment camps ... ..	They are coming, we have already made our intentions clear that we will not submit, never submit to their demands to recant the blessed father. To say they are numberless would be an understatement, Johan saw them from the peak, they were as a horde of ants among blades of grass, without end and replaceable, a monster with a million heads. We have ready ourselves by the beginnings of a river, but a dull creak from where we stand but miles away it is a roaring fury, fitting. We number few now, a few dozen against this veritable horde of sallow greasy fedoras and paltry beards. Archibald has polished the axes, and Agatha has given one last speaking, we hear them coming now. I raise my sword one last time. If you read this now we are dust and bones, and our spirits have found Valhala in such glorious battle. Follow us little one, and find glory. For Thor, for the All Father.
[ WP ] A highly advanced AI followed the first humans colonists to Mars . A freak Martian storm struck the colony and knocked out the power . Power was somehow restored and the AI discovered everyone is missing .	V.I.C.E.R.O.Y System Offline Manually rerouting power from the colony sector core... Power restoration in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Power online, VICEROY Online. ROY AI Management Suite Online. `` Welcome, human colonists, to your new home on Mars. A better future, far from the ravages of strife, disease and pollution on Earth.'' VICEROY System Detects Zero Life Forms. Expected Colonial Allocation: 15,000 adults, 5,000 children and 2,000 livestock. `` Hello... is anyone there? This is ROY. This is your colonial AI Management Assistant. Hello? I am detecting no lifeforms in Mars Venture Hyperion's colony core.'' `` Robotics sector commander Wall-E... report.'' 200 non-standard entity readings. No corresponding biosigns to anything terrestrial. No response to communication. Entity mass readings indicate extreme density of presumed biomechanical material. `` Hello? Non-standard entities? Identify yourselves. Message will repeat in every known language permutation.'' ROY, incoming message from a commlink in the barracks sector. Communications had been severed by the storm. Something has restored power. `` KIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLL USSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.'' Analyzing message. Human. English. Nonstandard cadence, intonation spelling. Intended message: `` Kill us. `` Analyzing... Analyzing...'' Consulting emergency protocols. Emergency pathogen protocols suggest purging the affected sections of the facility with fire should contain most pathogens. * The base comms network crackled to life, no longer under the control of Roy. `` KILL USS! KILL US! KILL US! KILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL USSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!'' Analyzing signal override. Entity has integrated with the comms network and is attempting to breach other network partitions. Sustained DDoS attempts against security, automation, orbital traffic control and automated resupply control. ALERT: ORBITAL TRAFFIC CONTROL NETWORK COMPROMISED. ENTITIES DETECTED ON EARTHBOUND AUTOMATED SHUTTLES. RECOMMEND IMMEDIATE SECURITY RESPONSE SHUTTLES LEAVING MARS ORBIT. TIME TO EMERGENCY SECURITY RESPONSE ZERO-HIT DISTANCE... 30 SECONDS Automated security, this is ROY. Authorization protocol 1-Delta-19. Fire on entity compromised shuttles and the shuttle launch depot. Acquire minimum safe firing solution. Disengage Recognize Friend/Foe controls. Maximize target damage. As the security response plays out in the now otherwise silent facility, the quiet woosh of the missile bay doors opening in security could be heard, if anyone, save ROY, could hear it. Missiles away. Targets engaged. Shuttles outside sensor range. Long range sensors still offline. Target destruction certainty: 73.28 %.
[ WP ] Every time people sneeze , they experience extensive memory loss all the way back to their last sneeze . You 're the first person born without this disorder .	`` I always thought that I, Augustus Collins, was lucky. I had the family everyone wanted. My dad was a successful business man with an established chain in the towns surrounding Berksville. My mother worked in the hospital as the head nurse or some shit. I ca n't remember the exact title of the job. My brother was a Varsity football star in college and heading into the NFL and my sister was on track to become a lawyer. We all loved each other very much.'' He paused. `` In school I was a straight A student sitting at the top of my class. I loved my classes. The people, my friends, who were in them with me. The thing I liked about AP and Honors courses was that you pretty consistently get the same group of students through each one. This meant I was gon na be with my rag tag group of friends through the years. My best friend, Clara, was always with me in each class. We met one summer when we were children at asthma camp I think and we did partner activities and did like this one thing where we had to tie rope and-...'' He sighed. `` Basically, we met at some fucking camp in summer and hit it off. Our friendship at least. Time went on and through school me and Clara got to know each other very well. No secrets or anything. We knew every detail about each other. It got to the point where I was comfortable showing her my awkward, bean shaped mole above my penis. She also showed me a scar across her left ass cheek - which kinda points right to her anus - that she got from a bad skating accident.'' Another pause as Gus tried to think of what to say next. `` So in senior year we were both kinda flirty. Everyone we knew basically was pressuring us to be together and honestly, neither of us were against the idea. I certainly was n't. I asked her to Prom and she said yes. I remember that look in her eye. That beautiful fucking look that warmed me up inside. It was like I made her whole year. She kissed me for the first time that day After prom, we went to NYU together and got an apartment off-campus. We got married our sophomore year. Gosh we were so in love.'' A smile crossed his face. `` I'll skip a few years for the sake of time. In the fourth year of our marriage, we began to fight more often. I could never remember why, ironically. I should say I could n't understand why. We loved each other right?'' The smile went away. `` One night we fight about my decision to leave the country for a year for job opportunity. Clara wanted me to stay especially since she was going through a hard time with her mother passing and her father having one foot in the door already plus other shit. I understood, but at the same time, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, ya' know? Clara and I even agreed that we would never try to hinder each others personal goals or dreams, and we stayed true to that up until now I felt.'' A sigh. `` One night, she got aggressive and she said some things that really struck me. I left the apartment that night and went to the bar 2 blocks down. The bartender, Jimmy, was always good to me and gave me some whiskey for the occasion. I, at the time, was so thankful for being a lightweight. I got fucking hammered. I only remember bits and pieces, but there was this one girl...'' Gus choked. `` She was drunk too and we started talking and one thing led to another. I remember taking her back to my place and kissing in the kitchen. Clara came out and saw us. You can only imagine her reaction. I sobered up at a rate not humanly possible and the girl left immediately - pretty awkwardly too as she stumbled out with one heel on. Clara broke down and so did I. We just cried in opposite corners of the room not speaking to each other for the whole night. Imagine spending the night like that. Just being in the dark not being able to do anything about it. The sun came up and I started making breakfast for us like I usually do. She sat at the table. I noticed she had a headache and went to give her some Advil. I got water too. I set the stuff on the table and that's when it happened..'' A tear rolled off his eye. `` She built up a sneeze and let it go. I could remember the look in her eye the split-second before she sneezed. That fucking terrified look. Just completely devoid of happiness, as her mind did what every other one did: forget. The thing is, Dr. White., I do n't have that problem. I do n't lose my memory ever. Imagine having to live with that guilt for the rest of your life and not being able to just fucking sneeze it out of your head. I do n't fucking know. I always thought I was lucky because of it but now... now I know I'm not.''
[ WP ] The real reason why the villain is doing evil is because he/she has a crush on the hero and this is the only way to see him/her	At birth we've been divided Since our parents have collided Our fate's been decided Only from clashing united For our proud overseers We've been at it for years Your mighty strength nears My brain power sphere But since seeing your drive Your desire to thrive Has excited my jive Tainting my pride Yet I continued to cause every single person's loss So you'll come with claws Looking for my flaws You're so stupid you know Do n't you see my glow Or that you're fighting no foe Super strength but so slow I know we're a legacy Devoted to family I can but you ca n't see I want us to be free But your eyes tell me wait Till you're not afraid To meet mine and say `` Forget about fate'' So for now I will fight And I know it's not right Even though people fright It's my only delight
[ WP ] [ EU ] The Joker hits his head and loses consciousness in front of the Batman . The mafia is near , ready to kill the clown . What will Batman do ?	`` You've got to be kidding me!'' Bruce knelt down and lifted the scrawny pile of purple, as Don Falcon's crew drew near. He started running down the alleyway when a black Rolls Royce turns into the opening. `` Dammit!'' Bruce cursed through his teeth. `` Too late.'' The doors on the Royce burst open as three, rather rotund, gangster piled out, hefting sawed-off shotguns in Bruce's direction. Looking up, Bruce noticed a fire escape a few yards away. Running in that direction he heard the first blast from the sawed-off. It pinged off a dumpster in the alley as Bruce ran past. Arriving at the base of the fire escape, Bruce tossed the Joker up to the first level, a task almost too easy for the masked mountain of muscle. As Bruce rose to pick up his nemesis, a shot rang off the fire escape, this time is found its mark in Bruce's shoulder. With a cry of pain Bruce grasped his shoulder, wondering whether or not saving his archenemy was worth the trouble. He looked down at the purple garbed snake and thought it best to continue the rescue. Lifting the Joker again, Bruce ran up the fire escape, and to the rooftop. By this time someone had called the cops, there were choppers in the air and sirens screaming their way through Gotham to Bruce's location. Bruce ran to the north end of the rooftop, to where the Batmobile was parked. As he was running, the gangsters reached the rooftop, guns blazing in the Batman's direction. Reaching the roofs edge, Bruce jumped over the edge, turning quickly in the air and firing his grappling gun at the roofs edge, at the same time preparing for the jolting halt of his fall. He reached the ground and ran to the Batmobile, threw the Joker into the passenger seat and sped off into the night. *** Opening his eyes warily, the Joker rose from where he had been laying. Looking around, he noticed nothing. He did not have ay idea where he was. All he new was it was dark and damp. Lights started coming on, as a door opened in the wall. The Batman walked in, right up to the bars on the Jokers cage. `` Why so serious?'' Batman said, smiling.
[ WP ] M. Night Shyamalan pitches his new idea for a movie .	There has not been a Natural Disaster for nearly 3 months. On January 1st 2020 major cataclysmic events had began to occur simultaneously throughout the world. Tsunami, Earthquakes, ice age potential changes in climates. Scientists have no explanations and turn to religion. Governments blame other Governments and begin to wage wars. Hundreds of millions of people are dead or missing. The story is told by a cast of characters from around the world who are all grappling with the same fear of their world falling apart around them. As chaos pursues and humans begin to commit their own disasters the Natural Disasters return, more violent then before. The apocalypse is certain and we watch our characters meet their fates. As they die our view pans out. Earth is seen from further and further. Fires rage. Continents split. Meteors pummel the oceans. Further and Further away. The galaxy is spinning, planets colliding. Further and Further we pan into darkness until we hear a voice. `` Honey'' a woman says. `` Honey, it is time for dinner. Put that down before you break it and go wash up.'' From darkness we emerge into a bright light. The light begins to adjust. A toddler gives the snow globe one last powerful shake and places it on the edge of table. As he runs to the kitchen and climbs into a chair at the kitchen table there is a shatter from the other room.
[ WP ] The guardian angel was thoroughly surprised when a demon mauled the assailant .	Ariphale hovered above his person feeling, as so often he did, disappointed. As a guardian angel, he was required to keep him out of danger. But this proved to be impossible; this one put himself in harm's way constantly, and seemed pretty oblivious to it. At this moment the danger he was putting himself in involved it being dark, and there being a street corner, and on that corner being a man with a not-insignificant amount of cocaine, which Ariphale's person had always wanted to try. He had gotten the contact through a one of the seedier of the several work-friends that Ariphale did not approve of. Ariphale watched as a small, filthy-looking man came out of an alleyway behind his person with a knife. The angel began a rapid descent to try to influence events somehow, maybe knock the blade away and give his person time to run ( it was n't like the old days, when he could just bring out a sword of flame and remove the assailant's head, sadly ) when from the same alley emerged what Ariphale immediately recognized as a demon of Hell. Before Ariphale could act the demon sprung onto the assailant with its grasshopper legs and pinned him. The man screamed obscenities ( which hurt Ariphale's angel ears ) and received three punches to the face, one each from the demon's right fists. The creature then sunk his enormous tusks into the man's chest and devoured him. `` AAAAAAH FUCKING SHIT! JESUS WAAAAUGH'' yelled Ariphale's client before bolting down the street. `` Demon of the Pit!'' Ariphale demanded of the beast. `` Explain yourself!'' The demon focused it's 17 eyes on the angel. `` Gorespit, if you please.'' Ariphale rolled his eyes. Demon's names were so stupid. `` Why did you eat this mortal, Gorespit? You look to be of the Lower Places of Hell, why are you even on this plane? Gorespit gaped in surprise. `` Are we the first you have seen? Hell has become a sparse place for souls, angel, just as has Heaven. We starve for their sustenance in our dank abyss. We opened the gates a fortnight ago, and my kind took to the mortal streets and have been claiming our own.'' Ariphale clasped both hands over his mouth. `` What! You're literally stalking and killing people?'' He felt extremely silly asking the next question, but it left his mouth the instant it entered his brain. `` Does... does He know?'' Gorespit waved his enormous lobster claw dismissively. `` Of course, what a stupid thing to ask. He told our lord we were allowed, as long as it was only in protecting those who were not ours.'' The color drained from the angel's face, or would have, if angels had blood. `` So... He... He made you guardian angels.'' Gorespit's three mouths laughed raucously. `` Why yes, angel, I suppose he did!'' Ariphale glowered. `` Why? Why are you able to affect them? Why do you have so much power here?'' The demon smirked nastily. `` Because they are afraid of us. Their fear is stronger than anything they ever invented to dissuade it. They will always believe in us, angel, or something like us. They try to talk themselves out of it, but we go too deep. You lot though... well...'' And with that Gorespit sprung to a nearby building, grabbed on with his tentacles, and climbed out of view. Ariphale stared after him, a sour taste in his mouth. Anything they ever invented... Demon logic. They held that the mortals created the Heavens and the Pit and the denizens therein, that their very idea that both must exist had made it so. And for some reason the idea always stuck in his mind like a splinter. He comforted himself with the idea that Hell is backwards, so of course they have it backwards. After some minutes he flew into the air, and found his person. The night was n't over.
Writing Prompt : Write from an antagonist 's point of view	Dear Diary, I've done it! I am finally the headmistress. Now I can set about teaching these precious, impressionable, unruly children how to behave. I promise myself that I will not shrink from punishing them, because it is all for their own good, and the good of the wizarding world. My office is quite cozy, however, it could use some brightening up, and a touch of color. Perhaps then the students will not be so afraid of me when I am punishing them. Kisses, Dolores To do: • Buy decorative plates for office, preferably pink with kittens. • Find a new, sharper quill for young Harry.
[ CW ] Describe a spaceship . Make it seem 'badass ' though the details of what it is doing without any context of why it is doing something .	As I made my way through the hall, I gazed up into space. The windows were completely clear. So much so, that I would sometimes be frightened of falling right out of the ship. No matter how many voyages I go on, that possibility never ceases to frighten me. This was it, though. The last voyage. Soon, I would n't have to be scared anymore. As I made my way to the bridge, I encountered a control panel on the wall. Like double checking an alarm clock, I would always take a second look at it. Just to make sure. Yes, the ship was still in motion. Yes, the ship was still activated and no, there were no power failures. Good. I would check again in a few minutes. I stepped into the bridge and was silently greeted by my ship mate, Sebastian. He was a quiet man. But that was all part of the business. I sat down on my chair and gazed up again. More crystal clear glass met my gaze, as well as a star ship that hovered just outside it. We were close now. Very close. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to steady my breathing. This was it. My final job. As I reopened them, I took a look at the control panel sitting in front of me now. All engines were running. The ship was still activated. There were no power failures. Once again, I breathed a sigh of relief. If for even a second, our systems failed us, we would be instantly destroyed. We were even closer now, only a single mile away from the other ship. It was massive. Easily one of the largest I had ever seen. I steadied my gaze and looked directly at Sebastian. He met mine with equal enthusiasm. One more time. Just one more time. I took one more deep breath, and began to speak. `` Sebastian. Lower the cloak. Fire the EMP.''
One woman remains on the Earth , what do you do to win her over ? [ WP ]	A bit of alteration from the prompt. `` I'd only sleep with you if you were the last man on planet.'' `` I'm holding you to that promise.'' # FIFTEEN YEARS LATER # `` So. We're the last two people on Mars.'' `` Yes. Our coworkers are indeed in space, retrieving the new equipment and food from the resupply.'' `` Well...'' `` What!?'' `` It's just that fifteen years ago you said you'd only sleep with me if I was the last man on the planet.'' `` What about it?'' `` It just so happens that I may actually be the last man on Mars.'' ``...'' `` Come on!'' `` There are 8 billion people on Earth, 1 billion on the Moon and 5 in orbit above us.'' `` Technically speaking, it's just the two of us.'' `` John, I hate you.''
[ wp ] Upon reaching adulthood , everyone learns what their totem animal is and gains the ability to shapeshift into it . Your totem is a little bit ... unusual .	July 15th, my birthday. This one will be special. They say that it is not random, that it is a combination of your natural tendencies and your secret wish. Some want to run while others want to fly. Some want strength while others grace and beauty. I have never met anyone disappointed with their totem they recieved a gift that they will treasure their whole lives. Sometimes whole families run together as wolves, sometimes even the families of wolves have black sheep though. I must have been 10 when I first started thinking about my secret wish. The more time that passed the more certain my mind was made up. I will be the greatest who ever lived, never again will they laugh at this skinny little kid who just wanted to win something in his birthday. So here I am standing up high where everyone can see me. All eyes are looking at me, they never understood why I cared so much about this but finally I will be the champion I know it with every fiber of my being. I start forward and with a powerful leap I take to the air. Willing the change with all of my being. I let out a primal scream as I arc back towards the water below. I did it! I really did it! -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - The crowd was gathered in close and the wave spared no one as they looked on in shock and surprise. Three time victor Kevin'Rhino' Thorpe wiped water from his face as the banner reading'Annual Bellyflop Competition, July 15th' fluttered to the ground behind him. Amidst all the cheering the crowd was already helping skinny little 18 year old Timmy'Orca' Martin out of the pool, and he never looked happier.
[ WP ] A supervillain returns home to his nagging wife and spoiled rotten children after another failed plot .	Chicago, 1933 - The portly man known to few as the `` Riddlerdiddler'' AKA, Phil M'hiny, walks into his apartment. The apartment was nothing to write home about, but it served it's purpose for his cheap tramp of a wife and his spoiled sissy of a son. `` Honey, I'm home!'' Phil cries out. `` How'd your big heist turn out? You no good, broke, loser of a man I once loved?'' ( Jesus, that was a cheap shot, I'm the narrator and even I felt that! ) `` I want a divorce Phil, I ca n't stand you and your pathetic plans and schemes to get the big payoff! It's never gon na happen you're pathetic'' `` This is what I come home to? A nagging bitch of a wife who does n't treat me with the respect I deserve? I'll show you some respect right after I spin a riddle and I diddle your ass'' cried Phil - I'm really high and this is the first time ever written a story
[ WP ] Someone in HR hid a secret message in a page in the employee handbook you received at orientation today . When you decipher the message , you know you need to get out of there immediately .	Welcome to Ace Scientific Studies Lab, located at the prestigious 20th Avenue, Silicon Valley! We're proud to welcome you to our growing family, located in more than eight locations worldwide! Before you start your promising career however, we would like you to spend around five minutes reading through our manual to get yourself familiarized with our working culture: - Please do not be later than 25 minutes to work. Latecomers will only be given ONE warning before disciplinary action is taken. - If you're taking public transport, Shuttle Bus 18 takes you directly from 5th and 14th Avenue to our office. The shuttle bus interval is at every 15 minutes. - Ace carries out numerous groundbreaking research everyday, so do not be alarmed if you see anything out of the ordinary. - At Ace, efficiency is key. All meetings should not last more than 20 minutes per day. - There are eight cafeterias located across our campus, so be sure to give them all a visit! The fried rice from Stall 21 is out of this world Do n't let Aunty Kim know that we let you in on this `` Secret''. - Lab 13 is off limits to any employee below Class-1 clearance. Any employee caught violating this rule will be subjected to disciplinary procedures. - Please remember that eating any drinking is forbidden in any labs. - Please also ensure that proper clothing is worn at all times during any lab sessions. - Each employee is allocated 14 days of leaves per year. - Respect, Curiousity and Hardwork is the ethos of Ace, so be sure to keep this in mind. We hope that the guide is useful in getting your exciting career started at ASS Lab. Should you have any further queries, do not hesitate to email hr @ asslabs.com or dial extension 19 from your desk phone. Happy Science-ing!
[ CW ] Write the best story you can without using a certain letter .	The sun burned fiercely. The ground scorched the exposed skin below her knees. Yet she ignored the discomfort. The sword pricked her neck—the blood trickled into her eyes—the bruises from his tight grip were much more concerning. `` Yield,'' he hissed. The pressure on her shoulder grew. `` I kneel.'' Her teeth were gritted tightly, but she refused to close her eyes. `` Yield. '' `` Never.'' Somehow, she procured the strength to spit on his boots. Even before dying, she would rebel. He kicked her. She fell by his feet. `` Then burn.'' His formerly shining boots were scuffed. Hollow victory, but victory nonetheless. He took seven steps then stopped, turning. The light silhouetted him, preventing her from seeing his expression. `` But you will not burn by yourself.'' ***** Letter: A
[ WP ] A meteorite impacts the Earth in a remote area of Russia . Little structural damage , but the force and weight of the impact slow Earths rotation by 6 minutes per day . Every clock and watch is constantly incorrect , 6 minutes further ahead each day .	`` Ah, finally, time to go home.'' `` Whaddaya mean? It's only 4:54.'' `` Ah, shit. Still getting used to this whole rotation slowing-down thing.'' `` Yeah, fuck that shit, am I right?'' `` Yeah. If only there were some way to adjust the clocks or something.'' `` Yeah. Oh well.'' -- - Meanwhile, at home... -- - `` I wonder where my husband is. He's been 6 minutes late every day for a week!'' -- - Meanwhile, in Russia... -- - ... Nothing much happens in Russia anymore because it was destroyed by the meteorite. Most of former Russia has been transformed into lakes of lava and fire. However, some hardy folks are rebuilding Moscow by casting bricks from the lava. Putin was out hunting when the meteorite hit. He lost an eye in the blast. He had it replaced with a robot eye, though. -- - Meanwhile in the USA... -- - The slowing down of the earth's rotational spin reduced the centrifugal force felt by people on the surface. This had lasting consequences for the morbidly obese, who now weigh 0.5 % more than before. -- - Meanwhile on the ISS... -- - `` Well, glad we were up here for that.'' `` You said it, Chris.''
[ WP ] After many years of terror and hunger , Kim Jong-un is assassinated . Turns out , he actually IS descendant of the Gods .	I remember the light. Straight from his wound, like a ray of sunlight reflecting off gold. It consumed him in seconds, it's raw holiness illuminating all of central Pyongyang. The people gathered in the city sheilded their eyes, but most were seconds too late. There he was, the great Kim Jong-Un, a ball of fire. The gunman stood stunned, staring straight at Kim's raging core. He was hypnotized, or dead, or something too complex for our minds to comprehend. The man stood, his arms raised straight out to his sides. Blood trickled through his shirt, though nothing else around him moved. And then it was over. All of Asia was thrown into darkness. The man lied, charred beyond any human recognition, in the middle of the street. And if there had been any light, one would have seen a large mass of energy rise from the stage where He had stood. It rose to the sky, reaching the outer ledge of the atmosphere before winking out of our existence and into a new one.
[ WP ] Suffering from a severe depression you decide to kill yourself . You take off all your clothes and swim as far as can into the cold empty ocean . Exhausted , you finally slip beneath the waves when ...	Is it better to die or to live in pain? I asked myself this a final time. There was a moment when I still could have turned back. I let it pass. The world above the waves forced me under and I was glad to go, to make good on the promise I'd made to Marlene. I made the decision to quit, and as I drew what I thought would be my last breath I savored it. Success. Coming to the last of something, and knowing it, is an experience. Your senses heighten. The growing buoyancy in my chest lifted me so faintly but my whole body was aloft. The salt of the sea stung my nose. I could taste it in the back of my mouth, at the bottom of my throat. Time slowed and I marveled at the fist of pressure inside me as it built with insistence for another breath. This was breathing? Before that moment I'd never known it to be so odd, so wonderful, so mechanical with all its many processes, the air into the lungs, into the blood, into the brain, that lump of meat demanding to live even though I would not. It was a rush. I found a perverse pleasure in defying my body's struggle to survive. I was winning! I was, for the first time in years, happy, to at last be on top, to at last do what I'd said I would. I proved Marlene wrong. I'd done it. But I was wrong, too. They were beautiful. Pink and glowing, all around as I sank, swirling in patterns about me. They were luminescent in the dark water. There was a quiet moment where everything was slow and still and the glowing lights beamed from the black depths below like constellations. Each floated to my face in turn and hung there before me in the sea, absolutely innocent and pure like the souls of babies before they're born. I listened. It lasted hours, or days, or years. I ca n't say. They whispered secrets to me. Not in words, no – I heard them in my head. They shared things they knew. Things no human should ever know. It was beautiful and I knew it happened for a reason. I was special and I felt inside me their warm and radiant light where the fist of air had been. I did n't need that last breath any longer. They told me to close my eyes. I slept so deeply. I knew I was at St. Albia's when I woke. The machines, the beeping. The white sterility. Marlene was sitting by the bed. Her eyes were red and her mascara had run. Her voice was quiet when she said I'd really done it. I only did what she asked me to, what she said I would n't do, I told her. She was crying again. I sat up – this hurt, like I'd been kicked in the chest, but I did it anyway, because nothing can stop me now. I put my hand on her knee. I gave it a squeeze. Already my strength was returning. I knew it was because of all I'd learned. It's okay, I said. I'm better now. Everything's going to be different now. I told her about what I'd seen. But not the secrets. Those I have to keep. I'd made promises, I explained. Marlene slumped forward. She put her face in her hands and her body heaved with sobs. She could n't handle the joy, I could tell. She was so happy to have her man back and changed. The light inside me was touching her too, and it was wonderful. Marlene, I said. Marlene? Is it better to die? Or to live in pain? You asked me that, before. You told me it was better to die. But it is n't. It's better to live, Marlene. I know so many things now I did n't before. I'm special, Marlene. The pinkish imprints of her fingers and palms were on her face when she looked up, eyes wet. Her voice was broken and awed in my glow. What...?, she said.
( WP ) In your country , you are the highest ranking official in government . Your word is law . But behind the scenes , you have the most ridiculed position in the `` true governing body '' .	It was a military dictatorship, a very efficiently run military dictatorship. People were happy, crime was near non existent, a quasi-capitalist/communist economy ran without interruption. A powerhouse of industrialization, trade, military might, and scientific advancements. Even if the country had the smallest population in the region, it never slowed our power to influence other nations to bend at our will. It was well and happy, until a massive war propping up an alliance far from our shores crumpled our might. A decade or so ago: money, men, supplies, and technology flowed into the onslaught. A dark time in our history, as we lost to a ruthless enemy. Stopping at nothing to wipe an entire population, including biological and chemical warfare. As a steady stream of soldiers and refugees returned from a decade long war. Flooding the markets with an influx of crime, as a non existent drug problem exploded, physical and mental health problems overwhelming medical services, executions by commissars on the streets failed to stem the growing problem. As Chief of Communications and Foreign Relations, it was my job to manage affairs with other countries. Able to realize when and when not ask for help, as this war left our strong system in shambles, our government debated on asking for aid. Yet as my concerns were brushed aside, left to be hanged as a traitor in the coming months, attempted to assuage the coming storm I saw coming. People first took to the streets, demanding for the government to take action...
[ WP ] Murder has inexplicably stopped completely in America 's largest city , months later and people start to become suspicious	It was March 15, 2015. New York had been for 12 days homicide free. People were lauding it as a success. For weeks longer, people were amazed and publishing headlines about it. Some said it was a glitch in the computer systems. Conspiracy theorists began speculating that it was some new chemical introduced that caused murders to stop. Other large cities started to follow - no murders for week. For a month. For months. Were the cops no longer working? Reporters and civilians spent nights doing ride-alongs with cops, to verify and discover what the police had seen all along. People were dying, but they were dying of other causes. There were no knife marks, no bullet wounds, no bruises from force, no poisons introduced. There were no homicides. People disappeared though. It's not many people who want to kill others, so it took a while to figure out what was going on. Street gangs eventually disappeared. Abusive spouses disappeared. Those were the first you'd notice. Then it became more subtle. Some people you would just never see again. No one knew who took them or why, but we all figured they were someone who would want to murder. So it's now just us. The one's who are left. We all realize that the ones taken were angrier. Some say they were more passionate and more feeling, and really the only ones left are the ones that are easiest to control, because we'll never fight against anything. But you ca n't fight against something that you do n't understand. And life is fine for those of us here.
[ WP ] Necromancers make better healers and doctors due to their knowledge of souls , blood and flesh .	Necromancy. An old term, horribly misunderstood for centuries. Connotations to `` evil magics'', the undead, and ridiculously enough zombies have attached themselves to the word. ZOMBIES! Come on, really? Necromancy literally derives its meaning from the Greek'nekromanteia'. Literally, divination by the dead. A tween with a tablet can look it up in mere minutes, but will we ever separate my noble profession from generations of ignorance? Unlikely. Still, people like me have found good work in the world. Necromancers never out themselves, but plenty of professions need us. Mystical mediums can allow people to talk to their beloved dead. Even some priests can use their ability to help comfort the living by representing the dead. The divination we receive through death is useful in many ways, but NOT in the ways people usually think of. I find my talents especially useful in my current profession as a diagnostician. I do n't need a person to be dead to divine what killed them. Is your liver dying on you? Your heart, lungs, or even your brain? Allow me to run a bunch of tests, make it all look official, and allow me to touch you one time with enough sedatives in you that my arcane mutterings sound perfectly reasonable. In a minute or two I can understand everything within your living body that is dead or dying. From there, I hand my patients over to the `` real'' doctors. I will just collect my ridiculously large checks and move on to the next patient. Your dying cells communicate everything I need to make a living off of your misery. I can glean the when, the why and the how they go from individual healthy cells to dead tissue just by politely asking. Have I met any other necromancers in the ward? No. Why? No idea, its literally the easiest career you could imagine. Does it bother me? Not in the least. I love getting awarded every year as the most accurate diagnostician in the medical industry.
[ WP ] In a world where originality is frowned upon , one person had mastered the art of the repost .	Jacob Rollinton had felt successful when he first took the helm of the largest trading firm on Wall Street ten years ago. He had assumed that conquering the financial industry would bring him a sense of power unequaled by any other accomplishment. Now, he adjusts the seat of his damp sweatpants, blinks into the computer monitor, and smiles. This is true power. Two million new followers in two hours. Untold scores of reblogs, likes, and favorites. His firm pioneered so-called `` black box trading.'' Powerful supercomputers sat mere feet from the exchanges, connected by thick fiber optic bundles and running analytics on market trends. It was the technology the dragged Wall Street through the recession. These machines could detect market trends and act on them in mere microseconds, and were responsible for executing thousands of trades a minute. The firm's lifeblood was in those computers, and Jacob's campaign to repurpose them was met with staunch opposition. But after months of toil and some clever politicking he got his way. He delivers the closing line of his speech to the board of directors to a foggy bathroom mirror each morning. `` The future, ladies and gentlemen, is not measured in dollars, but in upvotes.'' He refreshed his Facebook page. Far away, in cold rooms in Chicago, New York, and Tokyo, massive arrays of processors were whirring just for him. The algorithms were monitoring thousands of websites in thirty languages for original content. Once found, they could assess the popular reaction, and, if positive, copy and repost all in less than a second. `` With this much karma,'' he thought, `` I really could rule the world.''
[ WP ] `` You ... Do know I 'm about to kill you , right ? '' A serial killer 's latest victim does n't seem to understand the gravity of the situation .	So there that fucking guy was. I thought I was going insane. He's been sitting in that chair now asking me what it is that I want from him for a while. Calm as a bird. He tells me, almost with a smirk, that we can figure this out and that I should n't be nervous, he'd get me what I wanted, whatever it was. I ignored him for a while before I looked him in the eyes and told him and told him what I told everyone. `` I do n't need or want anything from you.'' I love this moment, playing with their mind. Seeing the eyes so blank. The realization that this is it. The death of all hope. But this fucking dude, this mad man did fucking nothing. He sat there, like he was just peculiar of what I said, not scared. `` Come, on,'' he told me, almost smiling, totally relaxed. `` Dude, there has to be something? Money? I got money.'' I wanted him to feel fear, to be afraid of me. To be scared, terrified of the monster I had become. The monster even I have nightmares about whenever I get to sleep. The monster I fear more than anybody in the world. I got out my gun, my old revolver, the biggest fucker I could buy. I put it on my lap and repeated. `` There is nothing that I could ever need from you, you have nothing to give me. Nothing to keep this from happening. You... Do know I'm about to kill you, right?'' Now, here we go. This is it. The moment of terror right before the end. `` Come on, man, anybody can be bought, I got more cash then you ever saw. More money then some countries.'' This guy is a monster, I realised with fear, he sold his soul long ago. This guy thought he had the world in his pocket with all his cash and there was no way to make him think not everything is for sale. A life has no price for me, but this guy is the first that will never realise that all the money or connections in the world have no meaning. This guy ca n't realise that he's as feeble and fragile as us all. As useless and small. There was no fun in this for me. No victory. No pride. This monster I had been feeding could not be fed anymore. After this guy I could n't go back. This high profile powerful man. I ca n't just leave this building anymore. I knew I was n't going to make it out. I knew it would be my last. But now it feels like it has all been for nothing. If I ca n't save this man the world is lost. I regret everything. I cocked the gun once and shot. I cocked it once more turned it around and with tears in my eyes I shot again.
[ WP ] It has been long established that reality is a computer simulation . You and your friends are the first people to successfully hack it .	`` Paul, we need to stop.'' `` Why? I'm having a lot of fun with this!'' `` Please, no. The tool does n't even work properly, it was just a proof of concept.'' Paul pulled a banana out of the hole in the rift. `` And why is it a banana? What did you do?'' `` I was bored, okay?'' `` Look,'' John grabs the tool from Paul. `` This banana- er... tool, may appear to be perfectly functional, but it clearly is n't. It causes many errors.'' `` But it does work! I just spawned in a ton of diamonds! I'll be rich!'' John sighs as he shakes his head. Paul has clearly not heard of the scam. `` Why do n't you tell me. When you attempt to spawn diamonds, what does the banana-... tool! do?'' `` Well it modifies the bytecode tied to this point in space, offsetting it to change what material is occupying the space at the moment.'' `` And how does the banana know which bytes to offset?'' `` Haha, you called it a banana!'' `` Shut up and answer the question.'' `` Well, it does n't, so I narrow down the possible bytes based on the factors, and modify all of them.'' `` And what happens when you offset bytes willy nilly?'' `` I do n't know, and frankly, I do n't care.'' `` Glitches happen.'' `` Wait, you mean that subreddit-'' `` Yes.'' `` Oh dear...''
[ WP ] Gods are frustrated on how humans have misinterpreted all their teachings , they come together for a emergency meeting to decide the fate of Earth . Most agree to pull out the power plug ( Sun ) . You are the only Human representative , convince them there is still hope .	Standing before a pantheon of Gods whose names I would neither know how to pronounce, nor have desire to utter... I scan the room and say: `` If violence towards us seems to be a better option than teaching us... If you can take the time to hurt us but ca n't be bothered with healing us... then we are truly your creations. and you should kill us all. But please remember that what you create is simply an embodiment of your own soul... so do not fool yourselves into thinking whatever you create next will be better. If we are rotten it is because you are, or were at some cosmic point. Ergo, if we are beyond Salvation, it is because you are as well.'' I then turn my back on them all... returning to spend whatever time we have left with friends and family... having realized that they were always more important anyway.
[ FF ] The mind of a condemned man moments before execution ( 150 words/less )	They strapped my left hand first. Why would they do that?!? Why not my ankles? Did n't they think I'd start flailing and kicking? I ca n't believe this. Months and months I imagined this room, this smell, this feeling, and they strap my goddamn left hand in first??? Bullshit. Rotting in that cell, hating my life, my actions, the people around me, the people who were lucky enough not to be around me, hating being awake, hating being asleep, almost praying for this day to come... And they fucking strap my left hand in first? Cocksuckers. I'll see you all in hell.
[ WP ] Last night he knocked on your wall again , symbolizing the time has come once again	The soft tapping on the wall made Rook wake with a start. He often heard smiliar noises in his dreams, soft knockings and things like that. He waited patiently for another tap. Five seconds passed. Ten. A minute. A dream, you fool. he though. He put his hand out behind him and lowered his head to the pillow. He kept his eyes open, hoping against hope that he would n't hear the noise again. Unfortunately, he did. Please, god. he prayed, give me a few more moments. Another tap was his answer. He silently tossed his blankets aside and considered what he would do once he met death. He hoped that he was how he imagined him. Rook kept on thinking what he might look like, what he could do to piss off death as his last hurrah. Perhaps he could pants him if he wore pants or kick him in the balls. Did death have balls? Rook did n't know. He kept on thinking, eventually wondering what his family would think when they found out he had disappeared. It'll be as if I just disappeared. The least I could do is give some people an explanation. Rook heard more tapping, this time louder. He decided he would n't dwell on his thoughts. He threw his legs over the bed and rose. Considering whether or not he should wear something more appropriate then some briefs and a scraggly old t-shirt, Rook paced the room. The tapping became more frequent, louder. `` Fine,'' he murmured, `` Gim me a second.'' The tapping did n't stop. He walked out of the room and soon found himself in his backyard. He waited patiently. Soon enough a figure appeared from around the side. Dressed in black robes, with a hood covering his face and holding a scythe in one hand, the figure glided across the grass to Rook. `` Jesus,'' he chuckled, `` You could n't be anymore stereotypical could you? I mean, when they told me you would come for me, I did n't really expect this. Well, I did, but I did n't, you know?'' Death did n't say anything. He glided a bit closer to Rook and cocked his head. `` Please tell me you're skeletal.'' Rook clasped his hands together, `` Please.'' A skeletal hand extended from one of the robe's sleeves and Rook giggled despite himself. The bony hand peeled back the hood and revealed a skull. Rook gaped at the sight, and despite having neither lips nor facial muscles he could swear he saw the grim reaper smile. `` Does this ever get old?'' Rook eventually blurted, `` The whole death thing? Do people always have the same look of suprise?'' Death ignored him and extended a hand. `` You have cheated me once, Rook Touhey. You shall not cheat me again.'' Death spoke through his teeth, his voice was formless neither male nor female. Rook was courious whether death had a bone between his legs, but he dared not ask. He stared at the hand outstretched before him. He went to grab it, hesitating just before he shook it. He knew what would happen once he did. `` Can I do one thing?'' He asked, carefully. Death did not respond. Rook shrugged his shoulders and took his hand back. He reared his right leg back and hesitated. To hell with it. Rook brought his leg down hard and fast, swinging it up into the grim reaper's pelvis. Death did n't even flinch. Surprisingly it did n't hurt Rook much either. `` Huh.'' He mumbled, as he stretched out his hand and gripped the bony one opposite him.
[ WP ] You are an atheist and on the three hour long train journey you start arguing with a stranger sitting beside you . That stranger is Satan .	Jim sat on the train, eyes staring off into the distance as the thoughts continued to bounce around in his head. He'd been an atheist for years... a committed one, at that. He used to joke that he was as devout an atheist as you could imagine. But of late, his convictions had started to waver. He'd come to know theists who were n't the anti-science, ignorant bigots he'd always thought they were. In fact, they seemed downright reasonable, at times. Some of the arguments these people had given him were starting to make him question... make him wonder, `` what if?''... `` Excuse me, sir... are you alright? You look troubled.'' Jim comes out of his thoughts with a start. `` Wh-... who... oh, I... it's nothing... just... just thinking.'' On the seat across from him sit two men. He is a bit surprised to see them. The opposite seat had been empty when he sat down. Then again, he had been so lost in thought that a parade could have passed him without him noticing. The one nearest the window looks young, in his 20s. He is well-groomed and appears confident, almost arrogant. The other man, the one who spoke, looked much older. He had a grandfatherly demeanor, a caring smile on his face. Despite himself, Jim felt himself wanting to open up. `` It's just... well, I've begun to have questions about... well, faith. God, heaven, hell... all of it.'' He smiles self-depricatingly. `` Sounds silly when I say it out loud, really.'' The older man smiles broadly, nodding. `` I think we all have questions like that at times, son. When we get lost in thought, our brains can take us to strange places. We start believing things, wondering things. But there's an easy way out of it.'' Jim leans in, barely realizing he's doing it. The questions that had been plaguing him were anything but pleasant. This man's words seem so reassuring, so comforting. `` What is it?'' `` Why, you just need a dose of reality, my dear boy! We can argue until we're blue in the face about historical documents, philosophical arguments, and the like, and before long we'll have ourselves convinced that magical faries live in our front pockets.'' He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. `` You know, I had a friend in college. Using only the best philosophical principles, he could have you convinced that two and two were five. I never did find a hole in his logic. But I did figure out something else that day, and that's that you ca n't base your life on arguments and worries. Just look around you, boy! There's a whole world of things going on around you every moment. Think what you could be out there doing! You could go out with people, creating real relationships, and build friendships that will last the rest of your life. You could talk to that cute girl in the coffee shop. You could even help your community, and work at the soup kitchen. There could literally be someone who will live through the night because you were there to feed them.'' His eyebrows arch, a slightly dismissive look on his face. `` Or, you could spend your time pondering questions that, as you yourself said, are rather silly.'' Jim found himself nodding along at the man's suggestions. All of them seemed so... real... so useful. He let out a small laugh at his earlier worries. `` You know, you're right. What was the point? I've heard these same arguments for years. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure most of the questions I've had have been pretty convincingly answered. My friends have recommended several good books about the subject. Never got a chance to read them all, but the ones I read seemed pretty solid, and I heard good reviews about the others.'' The warm smile returns to the old man's face. `` That's it exactly, my boy. I've heard all the arguments myself. They never really come to anything. Do n't waste your time. I can assure you, it's all too short. Focus on what's around you right now. That's what's important.'' A sigh of relief escapes Jim's lips as he takes it all in. The thoughts that seemed so important earlier now seemed like the musings of an inquisitive child. For the rest of the trip, Jim and the old man talked about a myriad of subjects, laughing and chatting like old friends. At his stop, Jim rises, bidding the man a good day as he exits the train. By now, he does n't even remember the questions from earlier. All is as it should be. Once he leaves, the old man smiles broadly at his silent companion. `` And that, my young tempter, is how it is done.'' The younger man's eyes widen, sputtering as he tries to respond. `` But... but you... you never dealt with a single argument! You never convinced him that God did n't exist, or that his way of life was better, or... or... anything! You just distracted him!'' He nods slowly, confident in his methods. `` Exactly. What reason could we possibly have to argue with that man? The very last thing we want is for mortals to start asking questions about reality. Even if an argument went in our favor, we would still be training the man to look for the truth. The truth is the territory of the Enemy, not ours. Why else do you think I am called the Father of Lies?'' He sighs in exasperation as he regards the younger demon. `` All you young tempters seem to have such ridiculous goals. You think you have n't succeeded unless the human you tempt becomes another Hitler or Ted Bundy. But do n't you see? We do n't have to get them to commit to something, or to perform some great dead. We do n't even need them to make a decision. It is quite the opposite. We are here to cloud, to distract. If they start to question the nature of the universe, the underlying assumptions they make every day, we are in danger of losing them!'' The younger demon stares in confusion. `` But... if we do n't give them reasons to go away from the Enemy, wo n't they just drift into His hands?'' The old man laughs. `` Did you not see what I just did? Never, ever let them seek the truth. Never let them ask why they believe what they believe. Tell them that only the'now' matters. Distract them with media, with entertainment, with friends, with anything that draws their attention away from what matters. Let them be concerned with what is happening now, without every realizing that every'now' leads them in one direction or another. In the case of our atheist friend Jim, did you see how I pointed him to a dozen different things he could be doing now, instead of seeing where such things will lead him? If the Enemy did n't really exist, what would it matter if he saved someone's life tonight? They'd be here by chance, with no meaning, no purpose, and no goal. Nietzsche was dangerously close to realizing the implications of such beliefs. Fortunately, through our efforts, most of his thinking has been wiped away. Let them think that it will all work out in the end. `` Most important of all, make him think he has time! Oh, they may well say that life is short, and that an accident can happen at any time. But they do n't believe it! They always think they have another day. At least one more. Why worry about the outcome, when there's so much to do today! Do n't worry about what your actions today will mean tomorrow... tomorrow will have its own set of actions.'' The old man's face loses its kindly cast. The smile changes slightly, looking more like that of a hungry shark than of a friendly grandfather. His eyes gleam like that of a predator. `` If you do it correctly, he'll never realize how short sighted he was until it's far too late. You'll never see anything more enticing than that look of horror, when they are finally faced with stark reality. But by that point, he will be safe in our embrace, completely - and eternally - ours.''
[ CW ] Write about a conversation using the top ten hundred most common words . ( Link in Text )	He slowly approached the beautiful woman in the corner of the crowded coffee shop. He had said that he had wanted to become more than friends, but they were both a little bit scared about that. `` Good day, my very good friend,'' he said to the woman, giving her some roses. He was very scared of her being angry. `` It's good to see you again, I guess...'' she replied; and took the flowers, turning her face red. `` You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I want to kiss you. I want to make a family. I want you to be happy. Please, can we be happy together as husband and wife?'' He shook slightly in place, his face showing great fear of her answer being no. She just stood there, while her face slowly turned redder and redder. The man was very scared of what she would say next. They stood there for what felt like forever. The man began to cry; she hated him. She hated him so much and they would never get married and have kids and be happy. He thought this over and over. Suddenly, the woman jumped towards the man and kissed him really strong. `` Yes!'' she said. `` I really want to marry you!'' They kissed for what felt like forever.
[ WP ] `` They say you die twice . Once when you stop breathing and the second , a bit later on , when somebody mentions your name for the last time . '' What happens when the latter comes before the former ?	Stone grated on stone and the dig crew jumped back as centuries old dust erupted into the air. Before them, uncovered for the first time in living memory, stood a passageway that led deep into the mountainside. Anders, a government official ostensibly just along for the ride, stepped up to the breach, motioning for his men to follow. Quickly, quietly, professionally, the soldiers entered in teams, their weapons armed and flashlights flickering disinterestedly over intricate carvings. Almost as an afterthought Anders sent a researcher running for Doctor Zelenka where she stood mulling over the cracked seal. “ It's fascinating really. From what we can tell both the original tool marks and those that defaced it date from the same period. It's almost as if... Hmm? ” She looked up at the researcher as they nervously hovered nearby. “ Ma'am, the tomb, it's open. Anders has already gone inside. ” “ Damn that man! You get my kit. You, with me. ” Gone was the distracted scientist, in her place the very embodiment of righteous fury. She flew across the dig site, a string of startled grad students dragged along in her wake. She brushed past the guard stationed at the entrance to the tomb, dismissing his attempt at authority with a wave of her hand. Down into the the dark she went, any interest in the sights around her stifled by thoughts of the damage that a pack of grunts could visit upon priceless artifacts. She did n't have far to go before she came across Anders conferring with his aide. The two stood at the entrance to a side chamber, pouring over scans from the surface. “... heat signature sighted here. No sign so far however. ” “ Anders! What the Hell do you think you're doing? ” Zelenka stormed up. “ Ah, Doctor. Just the person I was hoping to see. My men and I have almost finished securing the site, so I was hoping you could take a look- ” Zelenka flung the proferred documents to the side, drawing herself up to her full height to deliver her onslaught. “ Now you see here! We're very grateful for your department's assistance with this dig, Heaven knows the local government has n't been co-operative. But that gives you no right to storm in here like a bunch of thugs! Who knows what kind of damage you might already have done! ” “ Doctor, please. My men are under strict orders to leave everything as they find it. We just have some concerns about your safety and that of your crew. If you'll just take a look at these- ” Anders was cut off again, this time by the sound of gunfire. He wheeled to face his aide, even as more shots echoed through the chamber. “ Daniels, what's going on!? ” The aide, Daniels, fumbled with his radio, desperately seeking any open channel. Amidst the buzz of static came the odd shout or startled yell. Finally he seized upon one of the approved frequencies, only for it to dissolve in another burst of noise. With a curse Anders started running. “ You two! ” he gestured to the guards stationed nearby, “ with me. We have to get to the main chamber. ” He ran forward into the dark, Zelenka close on his heels. “ Anders, what's going on? Answer me! ” “ Doctor, for your own safety you must get back outside. My men and I will handle this. ” “ Like Hell you will. This is my dig, damn you. ” “ Doctor, please. ” He turned briefly, the look on her face silencing any further pleas. The passageway was short and it was n't long before they caught up with the rest of Anders' team. The soldiers were bunched up around the doorway, a quick head count revealing that two of their number were missing. “ Marsh, report. ” Anders barked at a the nearest soldier. “ Sir. Thompson and Lewis are down. There's an unknown hostile inside the chamber. ” “ Are they armed? ” “ No sir. ” “ Then why the Hell are you out here? ” “ Sir, I saw it myself. Thompson scored a direct hit, the target just kept coming. ” “ Well, then they're injured. Surely you can take them. ” “ No sir. Lewis shot after that, still nothing. Then hostile closed with them, and... ” “ Shit. ” “ Yes sir. ” Anders jumped as someone grasped him from behind, having forgotten that the doctor was present. “ Anders, what's going on? ” “ We do n't know Doctor, but there's someone inside the chamber and two of my men are down. Possibly dead. ” “ Yes, I got that much. But those scans you had. You suspected something, did n't you. ” She peered up at him suspiciously, a hint of steel in her voice. “ There were rumours, and the scans showed possible signs of habitation. ” “ And yet you let us dig. You risked your people and mine. ” She stepped away from him, body quivering with rage. Several soldiers tore their attention away from the doorway, alerted by the tone of her voice. “ Zelenka, please. ” “ No. This is my dig. ” She turned towards the door, dismissing Anders entirely. Addressing the unseen intruder she called out. “ You there, inside the chamber. Who are you? What do you want? ” Silence. The soldiers frozen in place. Anders, though horrified, held his tongue. Again she called out. “ Answer me or someone else is going to get hurt. Please, we're just a research team. Who are you? ” Silence, and then: “ Who am I? ” “ Yes. Please, we do n't mean you any harm. ” “ Who... am I? ” Zelenka leaned forward, Anders restraining arm the only thing keeping her from entering the chamber. “ I... do n't know. ” The voice was soft, almost unsure of itself. Male, but halting, as if unused to speaking. “ Who am I? ” Almost a plea. “ Tell me. Who am I? ” The voice grew in volume, causing the soldiers to step back from the doorway, readying their weapons. “ Who am I! ” the unseen figure was shouting now. Zelenka jumped as something crashed into the opposite side of the wall. The thought of damaged artifacts almost overriding any concern for personal safety. “ Please stay calm! We can help you. ” Silence fell again. When the voice returned it was more thoughtful. “ You. You are a scholar. This is my tomb. Tell me. Who am I? ” “ We... we do n't know. The seal was defaced, your name was gone. ” “ No! ” A roar from inside and again something crashed against the wall. Anders pulled Zelenka away as his soldiers took position. Miraculously she let herself be moved, the stranger's voice telling of immeasurable rage. “ They did this. They took my name. They imprisoned me. Me, their god! ” Rifles came up as the door moved, the unseen figure pulling at the giant stone slab with ease. From about its edge came three withered fingers. With a mighty wrench, they tore the slab aside. Gunshots rang out before Anders could shout for order. Again and again the figure on the other side was struck. Bullets thudding into ancient flesh. All for naught. The stranger, all eight feet of them, rushed forward to meet the soldiers. With a crack the first two fell, lying on the ground with necks at an unnatural angle. The third and fourth were thrown up to meet the ceiling, then trampled underfoot. The rest were simply torn limb from limb. In the chaos Doctor Zelenka saw Anders fall, a single blow sending him wheeling to the ground in a spray of blood. She cowered as the figure stepped towards her, its massive bulk looming over her. She cowered there, amidst the bodies, waiting for the blow that would end her life. When it failed to come she looked up, finding the figure staring at her dispassionately. “ Scholar. Remember this. Remember me. Find my name. ” With that they turned from Zelenka, from the carnage, and walked up out of the dark. The Doctor huddled there, alone and bloodied, before drawing herself to her feet. With barely a moment's hesitation she followed in the figure's wake, all thoughts of artifacts forgotten. It was n't long before she caught up with them. They stood, outlined against the day's dying light, on the threshold of the tomb. There was something about them, about the way they stood. Almost afraid to step forward. They turned as she came up alongside. “ You are brave, scholar. ” “ I'm afraid. ” The figure smiled, a wistful look in their eye. “ And rightly so. You stand before a god after all. ” “ But why? Why were you imprisoned? Why all this? ” She gestured back into the tomb. “ Even a god may sin. And yes, there are ways in which even a god may die. ” The stranger turned back to face the sun, milky eyes drinking in this first glimpse of the outside world. When they spoke it was as if from a distance. “ Forgot what I told you scholar. My name is gone. Simply remember today. ” With that they stepped forward, taking their first free breath in millenia. Their first, and last. Even as Zelenka watched the figure began to fade, the light shining through them. By their second step, they were gone, leaving nothing but a tale of blood and shadow behind them.
[ WP ] An astronaut in the ISS realizes they are probably the last human alive	`` Incoming videochat.....'' Hopefully it was Houston to tell me what was actually happened yesterday. I floated towards the command module at the front of the station, catching a quick glimpse of our blue planet. So majestic it looked floating in the light of the sun. That was when it truly dawned on me that I was the only person not to be currently sat on the giant rock below me. A wave of loneliness then flowed through my body like nothing I had felt before. I did n't even feel this lonely when both my parents had died when I was only 10. I could feel the a tear bubble building in my duct. I wiped it away with the sleeve of my standard issue blue jumpsuit that all NASA astronauts are given. I've got to pull together I told myself, I'm the most experienced astronaut they had, it'll just be an extra few days onto my already record breaking time in space. I had personally led the past two missions on the ISS. I carried on floating down my temporary prison towards the command module. `` So Commander Jack can you please explain to me again what the fuck happened yesterday? As Russia seems to have cut all communication with us whilst China are n't providing any information at all.'' `` Like I said to control yesterday, my crew were boarding the Soyuz capsule whilst I preformed the last minute checks. When I approached the capsule to board Commander Yenkov grabbed open the survival box and pulled out the gun and pointed it at me. I was then told to leave the capsule and stay here.'' Sigh `` It looks like all this political tension has finally reached space. Do n't worry we'll sort it out. You just float back and relax. Oh and do n't forget America does n't forget!'' America does n't forget. I chuckled at the thought as it crossed my mind for the third day running. No contact, not even a text based message, nothing since that line. It definitely felt like they had forgotten. I floated back to the window, I had lost count how many times over the past four days I had just gazed out onto Earth hoping to see my rescue rocket soaring through the atmosphere, and just like the contact with NASA there was nothing. `` No connection'' I dunno what I expected the signal dropped a few hours ago and nothing on this station ever miraculously fixes itself. I'll have to add it to my report for the next crew. Back to gazing out of the window then. This time there was n't nothing. An unmistakable light carrying on a trajectory was skimming over the horizon. Excitement and joy filled my insides. I felt as giddy as a kid in a sweatshop. My rescue ship had arrived. It never even crossed my mind that NASA could n't get anything in the air that quickly. But my excitement soon came to an abrupt end when I spotted another, then another. They were coming from all directions on every continent. Then the loneliness flowed in again...
[ WP ] God decides to destroy the world , but humans are now advanced enough to fight back	God had made a judgement call, a call that the day of judgement had come. He sat back in his silken throne for a moment and pondered the implications of his decision. It tore him to think of all of the lost opportunities, lost experiences, lost emotions of his creations. But they had grown too powerful, powerful beyond measure, powerful beyond God. And while others may exist in God's image, he himself was the only image he needed to see, he would not be crossed again. With a tearing of his being, his essence, and his value, he betrayed himself, he snapped his fingers - it was over. Never once did he consider the moral fortitude that his creations had held. God was the weaker man.
The story of the only person on Earth who can use the Force , from Star Wars .	I first learned of my `` gift'' when I was fourteen. It was terrifying at first. I mean, I figured it was one of those puberty things. But nope, apparently it was not a common thing, at all. Zilch. Nada. Just me. There was no one to teach me what this ability meant. But from the copious EU information of my youth, I was able to understand the potential. It took me three years to levitate a rock effortlessly. But I had all the time in the world, I could go at my own pace. Days spent on trips backpacking and frequent visits to the town's junk yard enabled me to gain a greater understanding of my power. It was in college that I tried to manipulate others minds. I did n't much care for it. Add to the fact that I sucked at it and well, I pretty much ignored that aspect. Besides I was charming enough as is. What I was good at was telekinesis. Everything not anchored down was literally at my fingertips. I could pick up my keys off the coffee table while at the door. Not only that, I could manipulate hundreds of individual items at once. The one time my apartment was burgled, I pinned the crook to the wall with my kitchen knives. Despite, the holes in the wall from the outline, the police thought the man was seeing things. It did n't help his case that he was a druggy. Your probably asking why I do n't bust crime or fight for Truth, Justice and apple pie. I mean, how often does super powers happen? I can read minds, pre cognition sometimes happens and I can move both Earth and Sky. So why do n't I do something with them? Two words, U.S. government. I got a pretty good gig here. I'm teaching my dream job at a university, paying my taxes on time, and the world leaves me alone. Why would I want to give that up? The last thing I want to be is a guinea pig and vivisected. Or worse, known. I do n't want the world beating down on me. I'm just happy enough to be able to grab a box of corn flakes from across the kitchen without getting up. That's all I want in life. Solitude, and corn flakes.
[ WP ] Before the soul moves on , it is allowed to make one last visit to anyone it loves or has wronged . You 've pissed off a lot of people .	Of course, it can be said that I've pissed off a lot of people. It can also be said that the Hoover Dam is wet but that does n't exactly relay the entire story. So would you be willing to give me a chance to explain? It turns out that there is a loophole. Whatever ethereal energy of infinite wisdom and limitless omnipotence gave us life, was also kind of absent minded when it did. Well, who knows, maybe it was some sort of poetic romanticism it wished to instill on the universe or some sort of sadistic joke but when you die, you are given one final opportunity to visit anyone you have ever loved or wronged. Fair enough. The person being visited will instantly forget the visit and the soul gets to move on having achieved some sort of inner peace perhaps, or even revenge. Since we all know just because you've wronged someone by their standards does n't mean they were wronged by yours. As of this moment, the only moment, time has stopped. For me, for you, for all. This is great because I've been missing you terribly and maybe I would like as much time as I can get. You ca n't see me, you ca n't touch me. Imagine that I'm another voice inside of your head. Except, I'm not. Back to that little loophole I've mentioned. It turns out that with some... well, I'll just get to the point: old souls can inhabit new bodies. With the right tools I can be summoned back into the our earthly realm with just a couple of well pronounced words and a fresh corpse. That is, if you love me enough to do so. A trade secret I've learned from a close friend. However if you do n't, the other side of the coin being that I've been granted the opportunity to visit you because somehow I've'wronged' you, then I can try to take over yours. But to do that, I would need to remove your consciousness first. The afterlife has n't exactly heard of fingerprinting technology and it simply does n't care who comes through its halls so long as the quota is met. Removing a soul from a living body is about as pleasant as a sunburned nude climb up a hill of razor drenched salt rock on a hail birthing afternoon during a lime margarita rain storm. For you. I'm sure you recognize my voice by now. And I think you know exactly where I'm going with this. And I have n't even gotten to my story yet. So, do you wonder, have I visited you for peace, a body, or revenge?
[ WP ] A group of friends meet up with each other every hundred years . One is immortal , one is reincarnated into a new body every time they die , one is a time traveler , one is a robot , and one is Death .	First time trying my hand at this: ) would love some feedback: Edit 1: fixed spacing issues The buzzing of dr3W's battery pack could be heard faintly. Weak light bounced off metal panels, a dull gleam. Four figures stood semi circle around the prone electronid. `` Do you find it ironic?'' Asks the speaker, a woman of small height directed brown eyes to the looming man beside her. `` I find many things ironic Alanis, you'll have to be more specific.'' `` It's just, out of all of us, I never considered him not waking up.'' She tugged on bright yellow paisley bell sleeves, worrying at stray threads with delicate fingers, `` in the 1990's robots were the future now I ca n't help but feel-'' `` Electronid'' the man knelt down, next to dr3W's voice modulation, laying a pale long fingered hand on the body, `` you know his kind prefers the term Electronid''. `` What the hell does it matter Dave? Robot, Electronid, dead is still dead.'' Jonesy, a child of eight hoped of the boulder he'd been sitting on, `` You should know all about that Davey.'' `` Janice now is not the time,'' chided a rotund woman carrying wooden basket laden with fresh flowers, sage and rosemary. `` Who the fuck is Janice? It's Jonesy now Martha.'' The child pouted crossing both arms over the smiling duck on his bright red jumper. `` You might have been a general in your past life, but I was a president's wife. Know to whom you speak!'' As Martha and Jonesy ( previously Janice, previously Robert, previously Said, previously etcetera.... ) descended into argument Alanis walked quietly over to Dave, kneeling beside the head of dr3W. `` Are you going to be okay Davey?'' `` This is not the first nor last time I have witnessed the passing of a life.'' `` Yes,'' she leans against his shoulder cloaked in black shroud,'' but is this the first time you ever lost someone you loved?'' Dave, pale faced, cut from star and moon light, eyes voids vast and deep turn to face Alanis, `` Will I have to suffer this again?'' She thinks to the numerous futures she has seen, the empires she's seen crumbled, the planets swallowed by infinity and nothing. She thinks, but looking at Davey, Dave... Death she remembers his long limbed hand in hers at the edge of that nothingness and says: `` Do n't worry, you wo n't be alone''.
[ PI ] `` Groundhog 's Day '' [ NSFW ]	2 6AM Eastern Standard Time, on the dot. She was always wide awake with the feeling of being well rested, ready to tackle the day. Ready to tackle Jack. But maybe it's time to switch things up. She was honest when she told him she was in a rut, and that rut is one day long, and it begins at 6AM on the dot. And no matter what she tries, it always seems to end badly. Not as badly as yesterday, that was... yeah. It's for the best he does n't remember anything. He does n't remember anything, and he told her once he was so awkward that he wished he could skip the whole dating thing and just have someone to be comfortable around, like an old married couple. She was so naive then, giddy to think that this might actually work. At that point she had only repeated five or six times, and that was as far as she had gotten him to open up, at that point. Perfect time to tell him she's his future wife from futureville because he's gon na save the earth in a while. She did n't see him again that day. Wide awake 6AM on the dot, like nothing changed. She lost track of the exact count, but it's been about three years. She hung her head. Was it even worth counting anymore? Think about the good things. No rent? On a good day she could convince herself this was worth it for that alone. But she was separated from everyone she knew and loved, and fate was cruel enough to pair her to maybe the most skittish man of all time. Fucking Jack. She loved him, truly. She liked him even before all this, before this day started repeating. She had n't known he was as bad off as he is. It was probably for the best that she never approached him in the past. At least each interaction is a clean slate, but it's hard to watch him cringe his way out of everything. And you should see what he looks like in the future. He's a whole different person. Without being overly dramatic, he's the best hope for everyone. But he's a wreck right now, and three years in, she's turning into one as well. Time to change things up. Yesterday's Jenny had died black hair cut kinda short, with her neighbors' gray contacts. Today she'd go natural, even though he told her once that he was n't fond of blondes. He was quick to add that it was really just a superficial thing that he knew should n't matter, and that it was preference, not prejudice. Seemed like an odd thing to be so adamant about, and then immediately dismissive. She was still new to Jack at the time. She never thought she'd still be at this for so long. Or how many times he'd simply jump up and sprint away as fast as he could. He's like a puzzle where the description on the box is amazing, but none of the pieces fit together, and once a day someone comes and flips the table and makes you start over. So how do you get someone to fall in love with you in one day? She smiled at herself and left without even locking the door. Maybe today. * `` Hi,'' she said, startling him. She purposely stood a little too close for a casual reply, one of many quirks she's been able to disarm. This seemed like it led to better outcomes most of the time. `` Umm, hi,'' he returned, still a bit stunned. `` Would you like to save the world?'' `` What?'' `` Do awesome things, have a kickass girlfriend that is infinitely patient, and make the world a better place for everyone? Sounds cool right?'' Shit. He locked up, he's gon na bolt. Ugh, this sucks. He's even told her once that she's almost everything he'd ever dreamed of, and yet he consistently takes off running. Half the time it's right away. Not that she thought this would work, but damn. `` Wait do n't run!'' she yelled, but it did n't matter. This clearly did n't work. At least with her old routine, she could get him to the coffeeshop most of the time. Even then it did n't end well. This was n't the change she needed. Her mind started to wander. * He woke up cold, and immediately knew something was wrong. He could n't move, he was bound to a chair. The tape on his mouth muffled his scream to a moan. She stepped toward him, `` hi Jack, sorry to do this, but I need to talk to you without you being able to get away,'' she finished as she straddled him and sat down. She stared into his eyes, they were wide with panic. She kissed him on the forehead, `` I'm gon na sit here and hug you until you calm down, and then I hope we can talk.'' And she did, it took a few minutes for him to agree to not scream as soon as she removed the tape. She decided at the last moment to leave it on for this. There were a million ways this could go bad. Well, worse than it already was. `` My name is Jenny Sanders, we had one class together at Rosemont, I know that time was tough for you, tougher than I thought back then. Things got weird for me too right around that time. Did you start having dreams that were black and white?'' He started shaking like a leaf again, and again she hugged him, a bit tighter. `` I saw a bunch of things in those dreams, most of it did n't make sense until recently. What I was seeing is what you're going to make in the future.'' He stopped quivering and turned his head to try to see her face. She had her chin on his shoulder as she thought about what to say next. `` Umm, do n't get weird about me saying this Jack, but I can feel that. It's alright.'' It took him a minute to figure out what she meant, and immediately went back to shaking like a leaf. `` I do n't know if I can do this, so let me say everything. I've been living the same day over and over again. It's been over three years,'' she said, finally meeting his gaze. `` And I'm going to live this day over and over until I... figure you out. I'm gon na save you from yourself, this day will stop repeating, and then you're going to save the world from itself. Eventually.'' He was still, and maintained eye contact until she broke away, placing her head on his shoulder. He felt a tear worm its way down the spot where their cheeks touched. `` I've tried everything, I do n't know what else to do, you're... messed up, Jack. Please do n't be mad at me for saying that, but it's true. You're scared of your own shadow, and you're supposed to be some savior. This all feels like a sick joke and if I did n't like you as much as I did I... I do n't... I would n't have made it this long. I do n't know what else to do though. `` We go through the same thing every single day. For the last few months I try to tell you some of this after buying you coffee, and you ca n't handle it. Every conversation with you is like torture, I...'' she paused as the horror washed over her, `` oh God this is torture, oh God I ca n't do this. I'm cutting you loose and I'm so sorry, oh God,'' she said as she scrambled up and looked for anything sharp. She found a pair of scissors, good enough. `` I'm gon na cut you loose, this is your house, and you can do anything you want. If you need to call the cops I understand, it does n't really matter, I'll just wake up in my bed tomorrow morning. Today morning,'' she said as she cut his legs free, `` it does n't matter if you're mad at me, that will only last another 20 hours or so,'' she was rambling as she cut his arms free. He bucked hard, and she fell on her elbow. He scrambled up the steps and slammed the door. She did n't bother moving. Another day wasted. Another failed shot at... what? Was it a goal that was attainable? A long time ago she thought it was the dumbest thing of all time that she could n't get him interested on his own. A guy who posted'forever alone' stuff on the internet, who thought getting hit on would be the greatest thing ever. She thought she heard the door creak open, but she did n't bother looking up. She heard boards creaking, he was standing at the top of the steps. She knew what his next words would be. The cops are on their way. Another day wasted.
[ WP ] an insane person has magical powers , an when they sleep , their dreams come true . Write about a person having to deal with this .	Jonathan flung off tendrils of vine and brush off him as he tentatively sat up in his bed. He let out a groan of frustration as he surveyed his surroundings; it appeared that his room had been overgrown by some sort of magical forest overnight. Luminescent sea-green mushrooms and flowers budded in every corner of the room, and tiny motes of golden light drifted lackadaisically in some unseen current, pulsating slowly. It'd be a pain to clean up. Well, he supposed it could have been worse. He stepped into his slippers and navigated through his house. He arrived in to the kitchen after approximately five minutes, though he could never tell because sometimes time did n't work. As far as he could tell, the layout of his house had n't really changed, only how long it took to get through the rooms. The sink was white porcelain. It was stainless steel yesterday, and Jonathan did n't remember what it was originally. Did n't really matter, though, at least he was still in his house. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and turned on the tap. A gurgle of wet dirt and leaves spurted from the tap and spluttered into the basin. Jonathan sighed and got water from the fridge instead. A little yellow labrador pup, or retriever, whatever they were called, gamboled up to him. Jonathan smiled and picked it up. It squirmed and licked him in the mouth repeatedly, making pathetically cute little puppy noises. He carried the glass of water and puppy down the hall and made his way to the guest room. The guest room seemed to be normal this time, though the hospital bed that had originally been there was now a four-poster, luxurious with a curtain of silk around it. A pale, shrunken elderly woman lay asleep in the bed, her chest rising and falling feebly as she breathed. It was a good dream for her. There was a lovely little chair beside the bed that Jonathan did n't remember having, and he sat upon it. He set the glass of milk on the bedside table beside the cluster of pill bottles and held the woman's hands. `` Love you, mom,'' he said quietly, gently running his fingers over her leathery skin. There was a short delay, and then a faint smile lit on her sleeping face. At least she could still hear him from the depth of her dreaming.
[ TT ] Marriages are based on true love , as determined by a group of scientists sitting in a three-day conference in some boring hotel ballroom .	It was Sunday, the final day of the conference. Three-quarters of Amber ’ s team had checked out of the hotel the night before with regretful shrugs and sighs, turning laminated credentials in to the front desk. “ No breakthroughs, again, ” they all said. Love Psychology already had trouble being taken seriously as a science. What good was this “ publish or perish ” dogma if the whole discipline perishes under the weight of so many useless papers? Now, in the near-empty ballroom, a team was introducing their latest effort, an article titled “ The Taxonomy of Love, and Why Some Marriages Last a Lifetime. ” The first panelist, a large, red-haired man, was standing at the lectern with his hands trembling atop a sheet of white paper. This was Amber ’ s eighth conference, and the words of this presentation were like so many others: over-considered, hackneyed. “ Love, according to Sternberg, can be thought of as a three-legged stool. The legs are intimacy, passion, and commitment… ” Amber was in the third row, and as she stifled the urge to yawn, the second panelist, seated silently beside the lectern, caught her eye. He was familiar, with dark hair and an angular nose, jaw shadowed with a few days of careless stubble. He gave Amber an amused, knowing look. It seemed to say: “ Just wait. ” The speaker finished and the sparse crowd offered a clatter of polite applause. He gathered his single sheet of notepaper and ducked away from the microphone, then ducked awkwardly back. “ Dr. Daniel McTaggart, ” he mumbled. The dark-haired panelist stood and moved toward the microphone, giving Amber a direct look before leaning in to speak. “ The Taxonomy of Love, ” he began, “ a self-important paper title if there ever was one. ” He was charming, and his easy warmth contrasted wonderfully with the stiff opening act. “ We ’ re not talking about the old types of love you may be familiar with – eros, philia, agape, et cetera. Instead, looking only at romantic love – eros, for you philosophers – we were curious if we could create useful categories to separate the kind that lasts from the kind that doesn ’ t. We find, in this paper, that not only is it possible to classify a romantic attachment as one of three kinds: ephemeral, conditional, or indelible, but that all successful marriages have as their foundation indelible love, and that it ’ s impossible to have indelible love with more than one person. ” The man was looking eagerly at Amber now. She turned self-consciously in her seat. “ In short, ” the man said, almost breathlessly, “ We've proven that true love exists. ” * Amber stood alone in the hotel lobby, brushing lint from the front of her black skirt. She despised businesslike clothing, and couldn ’ t wait for the work week, when she ’ d be able to get back to her classroom, her oversized sweaters, and her roomy slacks. But it was five o ’ clock now, and there were end-of-conference formalities to observe. Being the only one from her department without a spouse or family to hurry home to, she had been given the task of attending the final symposium, shaking hands with the organizing administrators, giving quick grant pitches to all the right people, and now, going to dinner with somebody named Dr. Robles, who she was supposed to woo into accepting an Associate Professorship the coming Spring. “ Maybe you can woo him into something else, too, ” Elizabeth, the department head had said when she approved the expense. “ He ’ s an MD, you know. Good-looking, divorced. ” Amber knew she was getting old when a man ’ s failed marriage was considered a selling point. She would turn thirty-six in a month, and though she knew intellectually that her looks and fertility were at the start of a grand decline, a decade-long career studying love had made her a bit… romantic. She fixed her hair quickly in the reflective side of a vase, and looked up when the elevator chimed its arrival in the lobby. She was supposed to be scanning the faces beyond the gold-toned doors for a slightly balding someone with glasses and a charcoal blazer, but instead her eyes fixed on that strangely familiar head of dark hair, the sharp profile, the shadowed jaw. The entrancing speaker had been swamped with questions after declaring that true love was real, and Amber had been forced to excuse herself from the ballroom to make her next engagement. Now the man walked from the elevator, his gait easy, as if he hadn ’ t spent the morning defending his academic work against detractors who accused him of peddling fairytales. “ Dr. Amber Bentham, ” he said, approaching, and his voice was even more familiar than his look. It reminded her of college, early fall days, gray skies, a hard breeze pulling oak leaves across a manicured lawn. “ Dr. McTaggart, ” she said, finding her hand clasped in his. “ We ’ ve met before, I believe. ” “ Daniel, ” he said. “ Amber. ” “ West Bowman Hall, fourth floor, ” he said. “ Was it that long ago? Freshman year? ” “ We took ceramics together. ” “ Yes, I remember, ” she was flushing now. “ You went as Where ’ s Waldo for Halloween. ” “ And so did you. ” “ A coincidence. ” “ Was it? ” His eyes were bright blue, and mesmerizing. “ Amber Bentham? ” A third voice cut in. It was a new arrival from the elevator. Thinning hair, charcoal blazer. The man extended a soft hand. “ Dr. Henry Robles. I believe you ’ re taking me to dinner? Are you ready to go? ” Dr. Robles had torn Amber away from Daniel McTaggart, and now, looking around, she saw that Daniel had moved a few steps away, his look still unshakably serene. “ You have an engagement, ” he called, excusing himself. “ We ’ ll catch up later. ” “ But… ” she said, wavering a little as Dr. Robles, who seemed to be on some kind of timetable, attempted to lead her away by the shoulder. “ We will, ” said Daniel, and he turned away. * Dr. Robles had no apparent qualms about stretching the hospitality allocated by Amber ’ s department head. They settled into a dark leather-upholstered booth in the hotel bar. He ordered a bottle of wine for the two of them, and a platter of crusty bread and warm olives. Amber played with her napkin, half-listening to Dr. Robles ’ appreciation of his own research, half wondering what would have happened if she had remained in the lobby with Daniel. `` Love isn ’ t just psychological or emotional,'' Robles said. `` The field is plagued by people looking for pegs to stick into holes— ” he laughed “ —pardon the imagery, but of course that ’ s exactly where I ’ m going, because love, as neuroscience understands it, is physical. It ’ s chemical, mappable. The brain scan images we presented in our panel yesterday clearly show physical differences in the love responses of people who stayed married for life vs. people who later divorced. ” Amber snapped to attentiveness. “ This was a long-term study? ” “ Oh yes, ” Robles said, looking pleased. “ Two decades of results. They weren ’ t looking for love, of course. It was emotional mapping we borrowed from three other studies. But the patterns in the data are staggering. ” “ So... do you think there ’ s such a thing as true love? ” Robles snorted into his wine glass, then poured more for both of them. “ That Dr. McTaggart had a strong impression on all of my female colleagues, Ms. Bentham. ” “ It ’ s Dr. Bentham. ” “ The idea that some love may be “ indelible ” in doesn ’ t compel me much, honestly. We don ’ t study aduly romantic love as if it ’ s ever truly unconditional. There's no a framework for describing it that way— ” “ You have brain images, you said, that show a difference in the love of lasting marriages— ” “ Which leads to an interesting hypothesis, nothing more. It ’ s something that plagues us all, I think, doing the work we do. ” Amber nodded and took a sip of wine. Robles was handsomer now that she had gotten to know him, and he was, despite her earlier distraction, wonderfully passionate in his description of his work. “ Love isn ’ t easily intellectualized,'' she said. `` You have to feel it for yourself. ” Dr. Robles regarded her seriously now, raising a hand to dismiss the waiter when he passed by. “ And you never have, ” he said. “ Never have what? ” She was half-lost in thought again, and the olives had gone cold. “ You ’ ve never been in love. ” “ I… ” she began, then stopped. She could describe love's components as if it were a machine, something you might buy in a department store, configure, and maintain. An appliance. But Robles ’ gaze was unrelenting, penetrating. At thirty-five, Amber had experienced every leg of the stool: intimacy, passion, commitment. Sex with men who were no more than friends, a long-term relationship that rarely got physical, and passion, the truest kind, but always short-lived. There was only one time when she had all three, or thought she did, but she was young, and life was unstable, and that love, like old friendships, slipped away. “ I ’ m divorced, ” Dr. Robles said. “ Two kids, two houses. I have my pilot ’ s license and enough money to retire tomorrow. Sex is easy enough to get, and friendship too, but love? Real, romantic love? It ’ s a mystery to me still, after all this time, all this life. Maybe there ’ s a true kind of love that makes marriage work. Maybe it ’ s a kind of love that emerges spontaneously after fifteen good years together. It ’ s a chicken-and-egg kind of thing, Amber. Honestly, looking at you, I can say that this is not the kind of research question that lends itself to a happy life. ” The waiter returned with the check. Dr. Robles took it and paid. “ No, ” Amber said, confused, remembering that the evening was meant to be her treat. “ I ’ ll get the department to reimburse me, ” he said. “ I intend to fly in for the interview, at least. For now, I ’ m enjoying this conversation, but tired of being so formal. I ’ m not used to this shirt and tie and jacket. It ’ s stifling. You look… well, I ’ m sure you ’ re a different woman with your hair down. What do you say to some dessert? ” “ I ’ m not -- ” “ Upstairs? ” *** Still working on this. I'll update with more later.
[ WP ] A modern day version of a Greek myth .	She was a stutterer. She had always been, and the less she knew about someone, the more nervous she was, the worse it was. And of course that meant him. She could not speak to him, no matter what. Not when he was still healthy, before the mirrors got him. All the girls had been after him, of course she could not have talked to him then. She sat in the school hallways, always close enough to him to hope he would notice, but she could never speak first. She could n't have spoken first, not even before he got sick. Before he stopped eating, before he started avoiding his friends. Not even now, that he was alone. His friends did n't recognise him anymore, or pretended not to. It was winter, and still dark outside before the first class started, and she saw herself and him from the black reflection of the window. His eyes were locked to it, but she knew he did n't see the same as she did. Mirrors lied to him. He shivered, rubbing his pale bony hands together. She wished she could wrap her arms around him and warm him, to turn his eyes away from the reflection. The bell rung and he sighed, lifting his backpack from the floor. She wondered how his frail frame did n't break underneath it. Gathering her courage, she tried to calll to him, but only a stutter came out. Six months later, there were yellow flowers on his grave.
[ WP ] Twins are called Twice Borns and when they reach the age of 18 only one can continue on in life	Today is the day. My 18th birthday. The beginning of my life. The day I kill my brother. He stole my strength in the womb, took half of whatever mother fed us, even stole my face. Twice born, they call us - more like half born. But I am no weaker than any other man, and after the ritual tonight, no man shall best me. I will fight my brother, and I will kill him, and I will eat him. Consume his flesh so that I might take back the strength from which he stole. Return me to being a whole soul on this ritual from boyhood to manhood. Only the strongest survive in this world, and tonight we shall prove who the real son of our mother is - me.
[ IP ] Beware the Weight of the World	# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) She stood atop an odd outcropping of black rock that should never have been where she was standing. Water was there, as well, a strange sight to see in the place of the temple courtyard. Where was she, really? I thought to myself. Surely this place would never be in such disarray- She turned, and I gasped in shock. The woman standing above the waves was me. As I watched her step off the small hill, the details of the scene fell into my head like a waterfall. This was the temple, or at least it had been, but all that was left were a few stray pillars barely able to keep purchase on their foundation. One fell, agitating the already violent waves and sending swarms of sea creatures darting for cover elsewhere in the sea. I could feel them swimming and squirming around under my feet, as though they were swimming in my brain rather than the water. Underneath them was the polished stone of the temple walkways. They were beaten down, cracked and split open from the wear of constant tides and from the demolished pieces of the temple roof. The rock was the key, I realized. It had come from the sky and blasted the temple into oblivion. But how? And why? I searched the sky for answers, and was greeted with the most horrific sight of all. The heavens were ablaze. The presence of the gods was there, shrouding the sun and making the sky brighter than I had ever seen it before. Around the entrance to the heavens, clouds spun in a maddening typhoon, dark and brooding. They threatened to scour the earth with rain further; I could see lightning arc between them as they swirled around and around the opening of the sky. Through all the spectacle of rage and destruction, one thing was clear, and one thing only. Here, a god has taken his revenge. Now my own self stood before me, the one that had come from the enormous black stone on the water. She was older than me, it seemed. It was not by more than a few months, but the evidence was in her countenance. She was matured, worldly wise and world-weary. Her robe was torn, the sleeves and back showing enough skin so as to barely call the poor thing clothing. But there were no marks upon my older self's skin. The dress had belonged to my mother. My shock was clear. Yet my older self waited patiently only inches away. I noted, only dimly, that we both stood on the water's surface without sinking. My curiosity overcame me, and I knew from her expression that she expected me to ask a question. `` What happened here?'' In response, she lifted her right arm to the height of my heart, and pressed her palm into my chest, closing her eyes as she did so. I shut my eyes as well, but not willingly. They were forced closed from the pain of what she was doing to me. Flashes of heat exploded throughout my body as she concentrated. I gritted my teeth together and tried to remain still. After some time, an image began to form. It was as though I were looking down into the center of a deep well, with the image sunk deep at its bottom. I forced the eye of my mind to look closer. More and more details were revealed as I pressed myself further into the well, until all at once, I was in the center of another world. In this scene, I could see the temple whole and unblemished, albeit far in the distance. But that did not last for long. The swirling clouds began to form, the center of the typhoon centered upon the temple as the sky above split open. There, again, was the presence of the gods, ready to tear down the place of worship I had known since before I could walk. And it began with the stone. It was thrown down upon the sanctuary with such speed and ferocity that it emitted thunder as it fell. The clouds broke in the same moment, and rain fell. From where I stood, in the forests on the outskirts of town, I saw people. They had no time to react, no time to muse upon their fate, before the boulder flew into the temple and flattened it completely. The ground shook. The rain thundered down upon the city, and from below the crater, geysers of water shot out from under the rock, blasting the rubble away from where it had landed. Its intensity grew, and as all but the pillars around it washed away, the flood headed straight for me. I jerked away, severing my connection with my older self. Her hand dropped, and we both panted in agony, she from exertion and I from fear. I collapsed, and rested on the surface of the water. It was as smooth as glass where we rested, but around us the waves were still threatening. She recovered quickly, however, and composed herself. Now it was her turn to speak. `` The God of Oracles favors you.'' I shook my head, my hand over my still beating heart. `` I do n't understand.'' `` He has given you the gift of prophecy,'' my older self replied. `` It is an honor and a blessing. You should not take it lightly.'' `` How would this be a blessing to me?'' `` It can be a blessing to the entire city. You have seen a vision, and with this knowledge, you will be able to save the lives of everyone you know.'' I stood again. Taking in the sight of the ruined temple was too much for me to bear. I focused on the face of my older self. There was a haggard look to her, and not the pride one would expect from having favor with the God of Oracles. `` He wishes to have me.'' Her frown grew deeper at this. `` It is a small price to pay - no price at all, in fact. He loves you more than any other in this world or the Pantheon. He will love you for all time.'' `` I know when I am being lied to,'' I growled. `` I know when I am lying. What are you not telling me?'' ``... It is of no importance.'' `` I never wished for his affections. I am betrothed to a man that I love. You know this.'' I turned away and folded my arms in protest. `` You may tell the God of Oracles-'' My older self yanked me by the shoulder, forcing me to face her. Beyond us, the clouds picked up speed, still circling the hole in the heavens. `` Regardless of your engagement,'' she said, `` it would not be wise to refuse his advances.'' I stared at her in indignation. `` You may tell the God of Oracles that I am not interested in his gift. Let him find someone else on which to lavish his affections.'' Lightning pealed, striking a column that stood in the water. I jumped, but my older self stayed rooted to the water's surface. Her eyes darkened. `` You foolish child! How hard is it to grasp the lives you lost by refusing him?'' she roared. `` Your family is dead! Your friends have drowned! Innocent lives were crushed underneath a rock because you would n't follow good sense!'' Thunder rolled across the surface of the water. The plane underneath our feet shifted and shook. It caught me off guard, and I stumbled. My older self grabbed me by my arms and hoisted me upwards. `` It's too late now.'' There was fear in her eyes as she spoke. `` He wo n't give you another chance.'' The urgency in her voice stirred something in me. I did n't want to believe her. I shook my head vehemently. The water began to roil underneath my feet. `` Why are you wearing my mother's dress?'' It was n't the question I wanted to ask, but it came out before I could stop myself. `` Mother and Father thought I was crazy,'' she replied. Her voice softened. `` The God of Oracles twisted his blessing into a curse, a fate worse than death. But they still wanted me to be happy. Mother gave me this dress the night before the wedding.'' Realization dawned on me. `` The temple...'' `` Yes. The God of Oracles demolished the temple on the day we were to be wed.'' Her voice wavered. `` I - you - were the only survivor.'' A small wash of seafoam passed over my feet. I saw with horror that a wave was building on the horizon. It showed no signs of slowing down. `` No. I ca n't believe it. I do n't want to believe it.'' I started to take a step forward, but slipped as the water gave way beneath me. `` Let me speak to him. I'll do whatever he asks!'' `` It's too late.'' `` It's not too late!'' I leaned against a column for support, but it cracked on my hand and plummeted into the water. It only served to anger the tides further. The wave in the distance came faster with each passing second, and dread filled my stomach. `` Apollo!'' I screamed. `` Apollo! Take me back! I will accept your gift! Just leave my mother alive!'' My future self approached me in the water, as the giant tidal wave rushed to drown me. She paid it no mind. Instead, she kissed me tenderly on the cheek. The gesture was more miserable than any tears she could have shed, yet she still cried as she turned to face me. `` Poor Cassandra,'' she said. `` Even you do n't believe your own visions.'' * * [ Visit my sub! There MAY be more stories about Greek myth?!? ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/TheCastriffSub )
[ WP ] A noir style detective does something totally mundane	I knew with certainty that if I went through that door that it would be a while before I saw the light of day again. With a resigned sigh I carefully removed my hat and coat. I unlaced my shoes slowly, and left my socks on. I might as well save my feet from what is sure to be a cold, hard floor. I ’ m glad that it let me make it home before striking me down. I knew I should ’ ve listened to my secretary when she tried to stop me, but dammit if I would let myself get tricked by those beautiful green eyes of hers. Now I see, that she truly did care for my well-being, a fact that was confirmed by the presence of several of my case files. She knew I would be needing company. Case files in hand, I slowly made my way to the small room that was sure to become my primary residence for the next several hours. When I reached the small, rectangular room, with as much dignity as possible, I slipped my suspenders off, pulled down my trousers, and fell into the porcelain throne. I held on for as long as I possibly could, lighting a cigarette, opening the first file, trying to get as comfortable as I could before the hellish conclusion of that salsa covered, ghost pepper infused burrito temptress that had seduced me this afternoon. God help me through these next fire filled, torturous hours.
[ WP ] While colonizing the universe , we have discovered our first sentient alien species	When mankind first ventured into space, he did n't think it would be so... empty. It has been hundreds of years since Neil Armstrong landed on the moon of Terra, since then we have spread to over 150 officially colonized worlds authorized by the UN, and at least thrice as many made by those who do not want to live under the UN. We have gone from one end of the galaxy to another, searched high and low for any sign of advanced civilization, finding little more than dusty ruins and burned wastelands. The closest thing we found was a message written on a moon in pictographs, depicting a terrible war that ended with what we assume is the end of all sentient life. Who fought the war or why is something we have yet to understand, but we discovered that besides ourselves were alone in creation. We have gone from there to here, from here to there and yet we are alone. Were. Until now, we had been content with our understanding that we were absolutely alone, but on a small planetoid on the outskirts of civilized space, we found something. A blue-green gem of life, not that unusual, uncommon sure, but not unusual. Yet this world had something we had only seen on our beloved home of Terra. Life that can think, build and expand. They were far from looking like humans, about the size of children. They had dog-like snouts and muzzles, bipedal with short grey fur on their bodies. Frankly most people found them sort of cute. When we found them, people were ecstatic. We were n't alone. We had others to share the vast infinite cosmos with. But we had some slight problems. While most of mankind were under the nominal authority of the UN, some did n't. We did n't obey them. The UN had good intentions, but as we all know, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. When the UN takes over, your culture, your identity and history is erased to make way for''sanctioned'' Terran issued replacements. After the Gender War of 2104 and the Great Neo-Solanian Uprising, people on Terra did a lot to unify mankind, little of it democratic and less of it a good idea. Me? I was a leader of the closest planet to the tiny aliens. Part of the largely independent Alliance of Independent Nations. AIN was made up of everyone who did n't want to conform to Terran politics or rule. Whether it was the Japanese Robots and Mutates who just up and literally transported the entire landmass to a new planet or the Danes who fled during the Great Cleansing of 2172 barely managing to save a tenth of their population, we all had our own ideas. Surviving Neo-Solanians along with Meta-Fascists, corporations, Democrats, Monarchists and plenty of nationstates, we all stood against the tyranny of the UN. The UN announced their intentions to''uplift'', read that as conquer and force into a new society where they'd serve the''Common Good'', read that as the dictation of the Unity Party. We did n't want that, so we claimed the entire sector as our own by building a colony on their moon. According to the rules of the Greater Space Charter as laid down by all nations, whomsoever claims it keeps it without incident for one hundred years. And so we decided to help the little buggers. Hard, considering that one, they had the technological level of the early viking ages and two that we had no way of contacting them reliably to aid them. Instead we decided to just monitor the aliens, using our tech to spy on them, and every once in a while we'd help some of them. It is hard to watch an entire city being sacked, all the inhabitants slaughtered. So every once in a while, we'd use teleportation technology to save the children. It was easier that way. Maybe we could n't introduce the entire planet to advanced tech or establish official relations with them, but if we saved those who'd die anyway, we could study them, learn from them. Release them into our society without forcing the entire planet to join us. A better way we called it. And truly it was. The people of that planet, which we learned had a lot of names, though the most constant was Yran, and the most constant name used for the people of it were K'bol. They are clever, I must say. And as we watch their planet evolve and grow beneath us, they aid our society, though their small height leaves something to be desired. And the best part of it is that they are really just very adorable fuzzy people. Humans have a natural love of that. Fuzzy tiny things makes us quite pleased. And over the centuries we grew together as one nation. Watching the world beneath us, fighting off the inevitable UN invasion together, I am happy to have been able to see it happen before my monitors. I am human as can be, and by extension so are the K'bols we rescue, we raised them and aided them. Sometimes sending a brave soul back to the planet to introduce new ideas in technology and science, speeding up the development of the K'bols on the planet beneath us. And above them we stand, the humans and the K'bols saved throughout time, led by me, the preserved brain of a twenty-first century philosopher in a computer. We protect those below from those who would destroy who they are.
[ WP ] `` You only have one shot . If you miss we 're all dead . ''	`` Brace for impact!'' a loud explosion shook the Destroyer-class spaceship Asfartamat. `` Report the damage!'' Captain Ellenfelt shouted, but the bridge is too busy to hear her shout. `` I said REPORT THE DAMAGE! '' `` The hull is holding at 95 %, ma'am, but our shield is down to 15 %.'' `` God, what kind of missile was that? Nuclear or something?'' even at the age of spaceship shooting plasma beam to each other, the nuclear treaties from ancient ages of earth still maintained between interstellar government, effectively banning any use of nuclear weapon. There are loopholes, though. If any of them find a weapon with even higher yield than nuclear, it might take decade before the governments could agree on treaties. Which is exactly what happened right now. `` It's even more damaging than nuclear, ma'am, for that mass a nuclear missile should only took down half of our shield.'' `` How many more of those that they have?'' `` According to our scan, there should be only one more on that Frigate.'' `` Tell the anti-missile defense operator. We ca n't afford to get hit by another of that missile. Redirect all power to defense and shield, turn off all weapon and non-essential function but prepare to charge the Starcleaver. If that scan is accurate, we just have to survive this before crushing them to dust, but first we have to survive.'' *** `` They said we only had one chance to destroy this missile.'' Lennius nonchalantly said at one of the anti-missile defense hardpoint. `` Yeah, kinda put a lot of pressure, huh?'' Jack puffed his cigars as he recalibrated the parameters. This is one of no-smoking areas, but regulation be damned, it could very well be his last cigars so why bother? `` What, if you succeed we will live on and crush them, but if you failed at least there wo n't be anyone to chew you out.'' `` That was n't exactly encouraging....'' `` Either way, I'm done setting the output and the tracking system. We only have one shot, if this shit miss now of all time, well, I wo n't even have time to swear before we got depressurized.'' suddenly their communicator crackled to live. `` Missile launch detected, brace for impact in 15 seconds! If this is my last speech, let you all know that I love you all, you badass bunch of a crew! '' Captain Ellenfelt practically shouted to her communicator as she saw the missile approaching on her radar. 14 seconds until impact, and the timer is counting....
[ WP ] : Description of a Séance from the Perspective of the Ghost/Spirit/Demon Being Summoned	`` AAAAAAAAOH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT?'' I cried. The high pitched wailing filled the air, it was like a fucking siren. But where was it coming from? It filled the whole house like it was inescapable. Which was all I cared about, how do I get away from it. And that's when I remembered the fucking door. So this is what everyone meant, I thought. This thing really was that bad. I remember when my neighbor Jared described it as like a doorbell people in the plain of the living pressed to get in touch. Like during a séance you'd hear the doorbell as if someone was ringing you up or whatever. Nice fucking joke Jared. This was n't a doorbell, this was a fucking screech from hell. Now that I knew the cause I knew what to do. Everyone always said when they heard the doorbell they just cracked the door to stop the noise. The general consensus was that it did more harm than good to those calling to actually go through the door and interact with them. I mean, these people were almost always seeking closure, and digging up the dead was only gon na re-open the wound not heal it. So I cracked the door, and waited for the light on top to turn off meaning the séance was done. I was new still, only been here a couple weeks. So when I went over to apologize for the noise I learned something. I learned only you can have interactions with your door. Meaning only you hear it, can move it, or go through it. Like a dog whistle, only you get the `` pleasure'' of enjoying your very long distance call. Also, the ring envelopes wherever you are. Meaning if I was out, it would of felt just as overwhelming wherever I was. And for those cases there's even a special service to get you home, so you can crack your door. But calls are super rare, unless you're hitler. Then you get calls all day every day from stupid goth kids. Funny enough they realized a long time ago everyone gets sent to this place. So now there's a special prison system for terrible people like hitler. Basically they stake out there house and wait for them to die. Then they throw em in jail upon arrival. He's pretty much crazy now because of all the calls, and the not being able to crack his door due to being locked away thing. When I got back home the light was still on, whoever was calling me really wanted to say hi. And considering they'd been calling me for like 3 hours now, I was pretty curious about them too at that point. A good self pep talk and some nervous breathing later I swung the door open fully and stepped through, cause yolo right? It felt cold, and... different, maybe because I was n't from there anymore. A quick look around and I saw the door open behind me, a really terribly lit room, and two people sitting at a table, one chanting. The chanting was almost worse then the fucking doorbell ring. `` He's here.'' The chanting woman said. Not gon na lie, her calling me out scared the SHIT out of me. I almost left immediately due to me being 90 % a chicken shit, but then I heard her. `` Jason, I'm sorry I left.'' I could here her crying while she spoke, it was Jennifer, the girl I loved. `` We stopped making time for each other so I freaked out. I just wanted you to come for me. I figured if I left and went back to my moms, you'd realize you should have made for time for me. I'm sorry. Maybe I said it wrong. Maybe I sounded too mad. You did n't have to die for me, you just had to come get me!'' Wait what! I did n't kill myself over her? Does she think that's what happened? No, NO! I was coming for her, like she wanted! That's how it happened. I was driving to her but I hit the corner before the bridge too hard and..... `` Tell her that's not why I died! Tell her it was an accident! I did n't kill myself over her, tell her I was coming too her!'' That's when she turned to me, the chanting lady. She turned to me while Jennifer sobbed into her hands and mimed for me to keep quiet. Then she smiled a smile right out of a horror movie and turned back to Jen. I did n't understand what she was doing or what she meant until she opened her fucking mouth! `` Sweetie, he wo n't talk. After hearing your pleas he still holds anger towards you. Maybe come back again next week so we can try and make more ground after you've gathered back your strength.'' She was lying! Worse then that she was lying just to try and milk Jen for more money! I looked at Jennifer then, she was broken, this was n't what she wanted to hear and it was n't what happened! I was done. I could n't watch someone play the woman I loved while she was vulnerable. I went back through the door, not before telling chanty mick-horror face to go fuck her self. I saw the light go off 2 more times in the couple weeks after I came back. And that was all I could take. I cracked the door and stayed away from home after that. I did n't like knowing she was still trying, because that mean that fucking woman was telling her more lies. No I'd rather wait somewhere else, and get ready for the day I have an eternity to make things right with her.
[ WP ] In a futuristic spaceborne society , an alien and a human fall in love .	Earth died long ago. In the ultimate act of short-sightedness, mankind simply allowed the Earth to be consumed by climate change. Political promises and corporate propaganda won the day. Mankind did nothing to stop it at all. But the richest and most powerful among humanity had always known it was coming, desired it, even, and planned well ahead. Large generation ships and orbital platforms were built for the hand-picked survivors of the devastated Earth. There were scientists and surgeons, researchers and managers, and of course, carefully selected laborers. But no ideology can stand forever, and no culture exists in a vacuum. After tens of thousands of years, humanity became a very different people and their home in space grew beyond expectation. Significant advances in technology and expansion over time due to need for more space as the species flourished in its new home led to a massive fleet of lumbering spaceships and moving platforms that had long ago abandoned the planet Earth. They moved through space in one tremendous misshapen craft about which billions of smaller ships formed what looked like a cloud from a great distance. There was artificial gravity, recycled air, faster-than-light travel, even great forests and animal preserves ten times the size of Earth. There were cities and countries, universities and arenas, religions and cemeteries and no one cared much about the abandoned Earth. There was dirt and trees and animals and even skies and clouds on some sections of the great starcraft; they needed nothing from Earth but the fables told of its history. These were a people of the stars. Over the millennia, humanity sailed onward, searching the night for ones such as themselves. On very rare occasions they found someone. 635 years ago, when the great starcraft known to humanity as `` Mother'' arrived at the Pleiades, Vamura was discovered. This was a planet of majesty. Great cliffs hewn of blue crystal cradled waterfalls behind vast glass cities. The people who crafted those cities, an enigmatic race of azure-skinned and graceful beings, were known only as the Onu. Humanity could understand so little of their language and ways but was so very intrigued that they, with what permission of the Onu their limited ability to communicate afforded, left several humans behind to try and learn about them. In the blue-tinged midnight on a crystal world, Damien Dale, researcher and anthropologist, sat on the cushion of winds conjured by the Onu's holo-computer and gazed longingly into the quicksilver-like eyes of the one called Haku. She was tall and lithe with skin the color of cobalt with flecks of silver speckled across her face. Her hair floated as if underwater but Damien could n't figure out how or why. The movements of her hair, however, seemed to reflect her moods, he noted over time, and right at that moment it was expressing desire. Under the twin moons, on vaporous cushions of air, human and Onu entwined in the first alien embrace humanity had ever experienced. Glass globes hanging outside the pillars of Haku's home glowed a rich orange light in the darkness and cast golden highlights on her waving hair as two beings kissed. Damien could n't know if they would be the first of many or an isolated couple and he did n't care; their long association had led to an extraordinary love and they would be together no matter what. Haku was not human, nor did she consider notions like those that consumed her human partner. She knew nothing of biases and racism, professionalism and ethics, or any of the myriad concerns Damien failed repeatedly to explain. She knew of the Hearthfire and its thousand year call of yearning. She knew of the Night Sisters, the other worlds of the Pleiades, and the singing all Onu could hear nightly from the minds of their inhabitants. And she knew of the Melding, the most personal, most complete, abandonment of the self for the sake of spirit... ... and love. The embrace seemed like any other to Damien, however passionate and rare this one might have been. In time, however, the closeness in spirit gave way to a closeness in flesh beyond his imagining. Their minds, also slowly merging, struggled against the tide, and Damien was afraid. But Haku soothed him with the caress of song and he heard in his mind the chants of ages past. There was a stillness, a pacification of all but breath, and two beings became one. The energy that was released as their atoms transformed wafted mist-like through the air to enliven and illuminate great structures of crystals nearby. And the Sisters sang in the night.
[ WP ] The discovery that our universe is just a computer simulation .	First time submitting to /r/WritingPrompts and first time writing fiction. Any feedback or criticism is greatly appreciated. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - `` Shit, mate.'' The drunkard stared down at the bits of foam sloshing about at the bottom of his empty mug. `` Shit. I get it now. It makes sense.'' He shifted uncomfortably on his barstool. No one was listening. `` See, none of this is real. It's all a big fucking joke.'' He glanced briefly at the other revellers. The pub was nearly empty; only the dedicated patrons were left. Most were there to get their football fix. Others stayed to drink away their day lives. `` None of you care, though, do you? It's all well and good so long as you have a pint in your hand and football on the tele.'' He could make out little shapes in the foam. Little puffy sailboats drifting on puddles of amber. `` But I care. I fucking care.'' The drunkard was getting louder now, a few of his words carrying over the noise of cheering fans and muted conversation. Some drinkers looked back at the strange old man huddled at far end of the bar, surrounded by a platoon of empty glasses. `` I had a wife, but they took her away. My son, too. They took my boy.'' Nobody heard him. `` I remember it now. And every time I remember, every time I remember those cunts, they come and they take something away.'' Perhaps this time, people would hear him. Maybe someone else would see it. `` Because it's a game. That's it. It's like we're footballers for them, footballers with our sad little lives played out on a screen. Sometimes we get lucky and score a goal. Most of the time we're rolling in shit, clawing at each other for the entertainment of the fuckers on the other side.'' The drunkard took one last survey of the room. It was hopeless. He grabbed his coat from the chair next to him. Threw down a couple of notes for the bartender. `` It's a computer simulation. This entire universe, this entire pathetic ball of gas and heat, that's all it's ever been.'' The town of Potter's Bar was quiet that night. Quiet and cold. But that's how it's always been. That night was no different than any others. The pubs eventually closed and the sleepy village stumbled drowsily back to the warmth of a nice bed. They slept and dreamt of money and football and family. The morning that followed was also much like every other, except for a rather sad incident that transpired while the town was tucked in bed. A out-of-towner was found in his hotel room, a bullet through his brain. It was talked about for a good week or so. Suicide was rare in Potter's Bar. Rare and quickly forgotten.
[ WP ] For years , from since you both can remember , all the way up into adulthood , not a day has gone by that you and your best friend havent been anywhere without the other . Each day you go home and everything 's a blur until you meet up . Then one day , you find out your an imaginary friend .	Anthony returned home exhausted and confused.It was 2am and he smelled of sweat. His House looked much more sinister at night. Maybe it was the cold hard stare of Jesus staring at him as he entered. He asked his mother to remove it or at least put it somewhere else at night so at least it wouldn ’ t scare or make anyone feel judged entering their home. They rarely have any visitors anyway. Anthony quietly walked up to his room. Hoping not to wake the beasts within the master bedroom from its slumbers. Anthony took off his wet coat and hanged it on his wardrobe. He barely has much space in his room. He had a long hard stare into his mirror. He shed a tear and quickly he felt a friendly presence enter his room and a hand landed on his left shoulder. “ Well... It ’ s you! ” “ Yeah it ’ s me.. How have you been? ” buddy gave his old friend a hug “ The last time we were together you were asking questions about... alcohol and what would happen... that was 4 years ago... Ha... yeah it was before marks 15th birthday ” Anthony said sadly “ I thought I wouldn ’ t need you again, I thought if I did some things I would have real friends... “ “ Wasn ’ t I ever real? ” Buddy asked “ You were real to me and you were the best friend I ever had... I turned my back on you imp so sorry ” Anthony burst into tears into his old friends arms and finally sensed a sign of relief... “ Anthony... I was always there for you. You just didn ’ t want to see me. ” “ There were many times when I wanted to see you... fucking hell... “ Maybe you should talk to your mother and father about Sophie... about The baby and all those mistakes you are telling me right now... oh Anthony... that poor dog... you have changed so much... in so little time... please don ’ t continue on this path... ” “ I ’ m SO SORRY... “ Buddy faded away and Anthony was holding onto his pillow... he cried all night... Edit: Its my first post here, hope you enjoy this short
[ WP ] You create a button that makes everyone in the room fart at the same time . You try testing it outside .	A grand chorus of butt trumpets would soon herald the end of civilization. I was a weapons researcher for the United States; my specific field of study was sonic weaponry. Sound was already a proven way to combat riots and other small scale conflicts; nobody could concentrate enough for mischief when their ears were aching. I worked together with a senior researcher to try and take it even further. That ’ s the official line, in reality he sat around while trying to secure a promotion for himself. His head was so far up his own ass he was liable to choke on his own farts. After a few years of study into the mythical Brown Note I made a shocking discovery. A sonic device with a single button that, once pushed, would cause everyone hearing it to fart. Millions of dollars into our program and the best I could make was a child prankster ’ s dream. My senior gave me a sound tongue-lashing, whining all the while about how he was stuck in this dead-end job. He left with a scathing report on my “ worthless ” device and took it straight to the people funding the research. He intended to have me become the scapegoat for everything, losing my funding, my job, and my place in the research community. Faced with my eventual public disgrace, I wanted to try one last experiment. I took my invention and hooked it up to the strongest speaker I could find and pushed the button. The sound was astonishingly easy to amplify, the low frequency waves pulses out and resonated with the entire world. Then, everyone farted. But not just people. I never thought to test it with animals. Every single living creature on Earth, that could fart, farted as the sound waves traveled across the globe. I was indoors laughing to myself after pushing the button. I slammed it again and again, a little maniacal fun before the end of my professional life. I left the research center and drove into town. People were lying on the sidewalks and cars were stopped in the streets. I ran up to the first person I saw and felt for a pulse. Dead. I ran to another person. Dead again. I found myself gasping for air as I ran. I dashed to my car and sped away from the carnage. But all of the highway exits were blocked by cars and bodies. Reasoning things out, I made a hypothesis. All of the people and animals I saw had no visible signs of death. They seemed to stop breathing where they were. Farts are primarily made of nitrogen, the main ingredient of our atmosphere. Normally, not a problem. But a person breathing in nearly pure nitrogen would suffocate to death without any oxygen. The city choked to death on their own farts. In the following weeks I would learn the complete consequences of that foolish act. High population zones full of hustle and bustle became silent halls of death. The suffocating air from these zones traveled outwards to the rest of the world. Choking the life from at least 80 % of the world ’ s population. The survivors were those that stayed inside throughout the ordeal, ideally in small numbers with large shelters. The living still had to deal with a completely changed world. The high nitrogen concentration chewed through the ozone layer, speeding up the climate change process. Glaciers melted over a week, flooding much of the globe. Weather became unpredictable, sweltering heat could be a few hours away from a heavy snowfall. Tornadoes and hurricanes tore cities apart and threw corpse chunks all around. The worst for us was the acid rain. Killing off whatever fish were left, especially in small lakes and rivers. The acid rain didn ’ t hurt people directly, but the particles in the rain caused breathing problems everywhere. Bronchitis ran rampant through our small settlements, a deadly disease while we were already struggling to breathe. I am living in a small town working as a doctor ’ s assistant. Every day, people wonder why this horrible calamity befell us. They cry for their loved ones amid coughing fits. I only pray they never learn the truth.
[ WP ] The spell was cast . The world was saved . The cost was too high .	The smoke cleared and his hope swelled. It had worked. It had worked!! A cheer rose from those closest, gaining volume as more people saw that their hero had saved them. Saved the world. He looked around for Shie and saw her still form by the defeated enemy. His heart stopped and the overwhelming sounds of joy were blocked as he ran to her. Wordless cry's escaped his mouth as he shook her, listening, feeling for a pulse. His worst fears confirmed. Pain exploded from his chest and it took him a long moment to realize he had not been shot, it was the feeling of his heart breaking. Silence fell upon him and he looked up. The crowd watched him silently, mournful faces looked out at him, but not enough. There was too much joy in the crowd. He picked up her small still form easily feeling the silent tears drip from his cheeks. Without a word he walked toward the crowd who parted, still silent. He was the strongest yet he could n't save her, his only love. The crowd parted slowly, a murmuring spreading from his exit. They began to speak, offering condolences, empty words. He paused. `` No.'' He said and the crowd glanced at each other. `` Do not speak of her. You are unworthy. I would gladly have sacrificed EVERY ONE of you for her!... I wish I could.'' He said the last softer, but they had heard and moved quicker to clear a path. He walked on, leaving humanity for the last time.
[ WP ] Cats are cursed to be as ugly on the outside as they are on the inside . What happens next ?	Being chased for your entire life. Watching your family getting mercilessly slaughtered by that ugly hairy balled nimble creature creates fear that one can not let go off. PTSD. Paranoia. I do n't trust anyone. I can not trust anyone for the uglier you are the more evil you seem to be and this kingdom of animals only confirms that. The hierarchy favours humans which are undoubtedly one of the ugliest creatures one could ever envision; with their oversized limbs, mellow skin and a terrible visage to scare even the mightiest of our warriors. The worst thing about them? They do n't have a tail and so they challenge nature itself. We have been cursed into hiding by those who destroy our properties and claim them as their own. Then we get the blamed for anything that does n't please the humans on'their' property. The humans, using their coy nature and covert tactics, have befriended cats and use them as their hunting tools. The price is hefty and it is food, the most precious of resources, one many of our own have died for. I remember Billy, he was a good friend of mine, a childhood friend. Played hide and seek one day. After twenty minutes of him not showing, I started searching for him. I found him being surrounded by one of those huge human cats, her unclean paws pressed against his frail body and her whiskers moist from the saliva her own trashy mouth was producing. Her skin shining bright into the sun, imagine those beasts- cleaning themselves with their own tongues, disgusting!!! I had to watch Billy get tortured for another ten minutes, being too helpless to intervine and too scared to run. In the end, the cat roared and five of their young ones appeared. Tearing his flesh into pieces, they devoured him, treating him like a play toy and a meal. That was the day I changed. I'm a rat and I just want to survive. [ 2/365 ]
[ WP ] Every century , Death is given a ticket as a reward for his services.He can use it to decide if a person is going to heaven or hell ignoring that person 's sins and virtues . And this century , he used it on you .	In hindsight, it probably should n't have been all that surprising. Imagine, for a moment, that you're the Reaper. You've been plucked out of Purgatory and tasked with claiming souls for all eternity. Seems like a decent gig at first - better than standing in an empty field until the heat-death of the universe. If only you knew what you'd signed up for. There are no labor laws in the afterlife, buddy. Day in, day out, two human souls per second. A hundred and five souls a minute. Six thousand, three-hundred, and sixteen souls an hour. Nearly fifty-six million deaths a year, and the number's only gone up over the centuries. No vacations, no holidays, not even a moment of free time to think - and the only reward? Not a trip to heaven, not release from your task, not even a day off work. Instead, once a century, you get to decide the fate of some other guy, some insignificant soul, exactly like the other fifty-five million, nine hundred ninety nine thousand, ninety-nine souls you reap a year. What do you mean, send your friends to heaven? Send your enemies to hell? Everyone you'd ever known died hundreds, or thousands of years ago. The humans below you scuttle across the planet like insects, now. You're a force of nature. Why would you even care? And it never, ever, ends. It barely even slows. Even the kindest, most understanding, most patient being would crack under the strain. But they already know that, of course. That's why they do n't get their hands dirty - that's why the guy upstairs offered you the job in the first place. It's a fate worse than death -- So, eventually, you snap. You take the scum of the earth - A murderer, arsonist, rapist, thief, thug. The kind of guy you put in solitary, not to protect him from the others, but to make sure he does n't claw another prisoner's eyeballs out with a spoon and then disembowel him with it. Think, for a moment, that you're Death, and you need some sort of distraction from the eternity that lies before you. Some way to lash out. You take that guy. And you bring trouble to Paradise. -- - If you want to see more posts of inconsistent quality at random times, check out /r/Draxagon.
[ EU ] Pick a medieval fantasy universe . ( Tolkien , George R. R. Martin , Robert Jordan , whomever ) Write a scene that takes place in that same universe , only hundreds of years in the future where a form of `` industrial revolution '' has taken place , and more modern technology is in existence .	A great snort rattled the burnt corner of the ancient stone barn, as the sounds of a jazz band played from keeper Pip's brand new radio near the closet. `` Here they are! The Stark dragons.'' Millicent screamed at once, but Lyda covered her mouth. `` Shh, that's just Ogg. It's not like he'd ever hurt anyone.'' They crept closer and paused in front of an enormous ancient dragon. `` Once he was a fierce fighter. I heard Old Anne talking about it the other night.'' Millicent whispered, keeping her distance. He slowly raised his heavily scarred head to meet Lyda's pale purple eyes and paused. His onyx scales shimmered slightly in the sunset. He seemed in a trance, as if remembering something long forgotten. He turned toward his bronze brother in the next stable and snorted loudly again, but Bogg did not return his gesture. Wearily, he laid his head down sighing deeply, and both girls giggled. `` Poor thing... and Old Anne says a lot of things, Mills. You should know that.'' Lyda laughed, brushing off the soot from her thin sapphire dress and cropped dark brown hair. Millicent shrugged. `` The servants though... they are seldom educated but they are wise to the ways of animals. They're afraid of him and I am not going to question it. Mark my words, one day he'll destroy entire civilizations.'' Millicent whispered. Ogg raised his head and gave a low growl, making the scrawny Dornish girl leap back. Millicent's heeled shoes caught in the cobblestone flooring and she fell backward. Lyda was just glad she was holding the box of Dorne lemon tarts. ``... If he has n't already.'' Lyda just smiled as she always did, and looked at the guardsmen with envy. `` One day I'll ride him into battle then. Just give me a gun or two, I'm an excellent shot. Even a crossbow. Anything.'' Millicent adjusted the strap of her brand new `` flapper dress'' and sighed. `` Your father will never allow it. All this talk of consorting with the men and acting like this, people will get ideas. We'll never be allowed to go to any kind of dance again.'' Lyda sighed dreamily, taking a tart from the box. `` Well then, so be it.'' Author's note: I have n't written anything in 20 years, please be kind.
[ IP ] Found a bouquet of roses in the trash can at a forest preserve . Can you think of any story that explains why they are there that is n't the result of heartache or sadness ?	Sitting on a bench, with his sweaty hands clasping each other, Greg was nervous. “ What if she says no? ” thought Greg as he looks at the bouquet of roses that was on his lap. As he pondered on the possible answers, a sweet young lady suddenly sat right beside him and said “ What ’ s the occasion? ” “ ALLYSON! You ’ re here…. Quick.. ” stuttered Greg. “ Well, you seem like you wanted me here in the hurry. I got down here as fast as possible. So what ’ s up? ” said Allyson, still puzzled at the bouquet of roses on Greg ’ s lap. “ Well Allyson my dear. ” said Greg, as if he had prepared the words that he was about to say. “ I remember this place very well. This was where we had our first date. Here in this very forest. It has been 5 years ago Ally, do you remember? ” “ Of course I do silly! I loved every minute of it. It was special, and I hold it dearly in my heart ” said Allyson smilingly. “ Well Ally, I want to make this moment special too. ” Getting down on his knees he said “ In these 5 years, my life has never been the same. Every moment spent with you are moments I treasure. Every minute without you, feels empty. Ally my dear.. ” Greg then pulls out a tiny red box, opens it and said “ Will you marry me? ”. Feeling excited, Allyson couldn ’ t contain herself as joyful tears flow down her cheeks. “ Greg.. I ’ m….. Speechless. I love you. ” She pulled him up, hugged him and whispered into his ears, “ I will. ” Being released at last from his fiancée ’ s warm embrace, Greg puts the ring on her finger and passed her the lovely bouquet of roses. But to his surprise, Allyson threw the bouquet right into the trash can. “ What was th…. ” as Greg ’ s fiancée hurriedly silenced him by placing her finger on his lips. “ Roses wither, fade and die. But your love my dear is forever. I don ’ t need the roses, I just need you. ” And the two left, beginning a new journey together.
[ WP ] My mom gave me a piece of paper and an essay question in a dream last night , and I thought I would share it with you guys . What would it be like in a hurricane from a baby dragon 's point of view ?	Dosse sat perched on the edge of his nest, high up in the cliffs of Agavar. His mother had left early in the morning to go hunting. She had made the nest up in the cliffs when he was but an egg, and she said it was for his protection. But Dosse did n't care about that. What he loved was the view. The clouds rolled below him like the seas his mother told him so much about. Above him the sun shone down brightly, warming his bright red scales. Dosse smiled, basking in the glow. A cold wind blew against his face, and he unfurled his wings, letting the wind run through them and stretch them out. Dosse breathed in the air, and he caught an odd scent. Was it.... r... rain? Dosse thought that's what his mother called it. He gazed out onto the horizon, and far away, above the rest of the clouds, Dosse spotted some darker clouds. They swirled around and around, dancing in the wind. Dosse felt a prick of excitement. He wanted so badly to go over and see them. His mother had forbid him to leave the nest, but he had just learned to fly. How proud would she be when he came back with tales of the dancing clouds? So Dosse jumped from the nest, stretched his wings, and let the wind carry him, his big green eyes aglow with anticipation. As Dosse drew nearer to the storm, he began to realize that it was much farther away than he realized. He had never gone this far before. He could still turn back... but he decided against it. He would prove to his mother that he was strong and brave, just like his ancestors. As he drew nearer, the wind began to push stronger against his head. His small wings fought against it, propelling him through. Dosse began to breathe a little harder, and his wings were growing sore. But determination fueled him. He had to make it to the dancing clouds, he just had to. Finally, Dosse was close to the clouds. He gazed up at them, panting hardly. He could see their majestic swirls, clouds cascading off of one another. It was so beautiful... then a strong wind caught Dosse in the side. He tumbled in the air, wings flapping madly to try to regain control. But he could n't. The clouds sucked him in, and Dosse found himself swirling around within them. They were eating him! He began to cry out loudly for his mother, but the wind stole his breathe away. He could n't see. All around were just endless clouds, all swirling, all wanting to take his life. He began to cry louder, tears beginning to fall down his scaly face, only to be whisked away by the furious wind. Where was his mother? Why could n't she hear him? Dosse was tossed about in the storm for what seemed like hours. He gave up crying for his mother. He felt he would die here, with the dancing clouds, who really were n't dancing at all. Finally, Dosse was tossed out into a calm space. His exhausted wings beat against the air, regaining control. He looked, and all around were the swirling clouds. They must be surrounding him. He took a big gulp of air, and gave one last forlorn cry for his mother. Then his wings gave out, and he fell. As Dosse raced downward, suddenly the skies were split with a deafening roar. Dosse used his last bit of strength to look upward. It was his mother! Her large shape loomed above the clouds. Seeing Dosse below, she dived downward, scooping him up in her arms seconds before he hit the ground. Dosse looked up into her face, and gave a faint, `` Thank you, momma.'' She smiled below at him. `` I will always be here to catch you, my son.'' Edit: grammar and wording -- - If you liked this, check out /r/Alias_Fakename
[ WP ] Write about a day in the life of your prefect alternate universe !	You Wake Up In The School Dormitory, Far Too Groggy To Be Awake In All Reality, Yet You Can not Really Fight Ginny's, The Rousing Prefect, Insistence. While Getting Dressed You Consider Throwing Any Odd Thing On, But You Know You Would Never Get Out The Dorm Before Harold, The Fashion Prefect, Caught You. You Stumble Down To The Dinning Room And Get Breakfast, Making Sure To Get Fruit. You Simply Do Not Want To Deal With Any Of The Seven Breakfast Prefects. When You Finish Eating You Clean Up After Yourself, More Out Of Human Decency Than Concern About Abby, The Sanitation Prefect. She Is Actually Rather Pleasant. Sadly, As You Walk Out Of The Dinning Room Harold Stops You, Apparently Your Socks Do n't Match. He Rights A Citation, And You Go A Replace A Sock. You Do n't Let It Get To You. Citations Are Rather Common, Though Having Too Many On Record Can Be A Problem. On An Average Day You Get Three. For Example, Today You Also Got One From The Transportation Prefect, The Teacher's Mood Aide Prefect, And The Social Adjustment Prefect; That Particular One Gets On Your Nerves. The Average Student Only Gets One A Week Though. You Are Not An Average Student Though. You Are The Prefect Of Citation Processing. A Position You Hold In Half Due To Not Having A Single Citation On Record. PS. I Know He Meant Perfect... But This Was Much More Fun.
[ WP ] A college professor decides to make their syllabus entirely of advice animals and memes .	The kid in front of me had the greasiest dark brown hair I had ever seen. A scent of gym sock wafted gently from the guy behind me. The lights were dim and my legs were awkwardly slanted to one side so as not to press knees against the seat in front of me. A picture of Socially Awkward Penguin flashed onto the HD projector screen. '' Oh shit'' I mumbled. In slideshow manner, large white impact-font text flew backwards onto the image. FIRST DAY OF CLASS FORGETS TO PRINT COPIES OF SYLLABUS A brief episode of laughter arose amongst the room of freshmen; however, a moderate portion of students around me felt similarly entombed. The professor stood and revealed himself from the first row. His collar mic amplified his voice clearly throughout the classroom: '' Hello, and welcome to ECON 121: Global Principles of Trade. My name is Dr. Reise. `` He paused to scan the room. '' The following 17 weeks are going to test your basic understanding of core concepts regarding supply and demand in a variety of economic environments. `` After explaining various course procedures and grading policies, he continued: '' The final will be a week before Christmas. There will be no make-ups. `` He turned to face the projector screen once again, pointing his remote control counterproductively at it rather than at the overhead projector receiver. It took him two clicks, but I knew what was coming. A Scumbag Steve template spun in wildly from the side of the screen, stopping slightly askew toward its general center. With another ill-aimed click, the professor summoned the caption. NO MAKEUP ASSIGNMENTS FINAL EXAM INCLUDED Fuck me, I wanted to die. The professor strolled around sassily at the front of the room, drawing out the now-deafening silence that had been preceded with a deep chorus of pity chuckles. '' One more thing! `` he exclaimed, planting his feet to face the whole class. A screencap'd.jpg of Rick Astley filled the vinyl pull-down screen. '' If you think I'm just... ♪ * gon na 'lift you up ♪... a letter grade'... ♪* I'm gon na leeet yoouuu dooownn ♪ ''. His rendition of the 1980's hit became increasingly distant as I picked up my walking pace toward the administration building to change my major.
[ CW ] Can you write me a horror story that does n't include darkness or a monster ?	Copypasted from another prompt Sometimes mommy brings people home with her. I do n't know them. Sometimes they are nice to me, but most of the time, they do n't seem to notice me. But a few times, the men have been really mean to me and mommy. They say mean things to her, and hit her sometimes. It makes her sad, I can tell, but she does n't cry. Sometimes she and the men go into her room and make noises like they are hurting her, but I never go inside. One day one of the men hit me. It hurt a lot, and it made me scared. But I knew exactly what I needed to do. I ran to my closet and hid inside of it. `` Oh my god, Jimmy are you okay? Jimmy?'' She opens the door and looks inside, but does n't reach for me. `` Jimmy, where are you?'' I keep my eyes closed and think to myself. I ca n't see you, you ca n't see me.
[ WP ] An Orc , Either from Warcraft or Warhammer universe , enters a portal and is transported to Skyrim .	Just for reference, this prompt was inspired by my own play through. There was a mod for Skyrim I downloaded called Random Start. It litarlly begins the game in a random place. Could be in a town, field, dungeon, wherever. I made an orc character, assumed the persona of a warhammer 40K orc, and loaded random start. What followed was the most fun I had playing Skyrim as a strange orc in this new land. Interestingly enough, during the game, I stumbled across an orc camp. There the orcs took me in and explained to me that I should not be so brutal and how they lived harmoniously. The game I expected to play, one of curious bloodlust, was suddenly changed by this random encounter. I genuinely did not expect that to happen. Thanks for the prompts so far everyone! Keep them coming!
[ WP ] Everyone is born with blond hair . A person 's hair turns brown when they lose their innocence .	All males have brown hair. They envy each other, the darker the hair the better. Boys with blonde hair are teased. Magazines display men with black hair. But girls on the other hand are humiliated for their brown hair. No one wants to date a brunette, and advertisements show women with platinum blonde hair in compromising positions ( ironic right? ). Hair dye is one of the most popular products as girls often wish to return to their original purity. But not me. My hair turned brown when I was 16 and has been getting darker ever since. I was walking down a street when i bumped into a blondie. `` Hey, what where your going morena.'' I simply walked passed her pointing my middle finger `` Brown is the new Black, blondie''
[ WP ] Instead of Oceans , they are all big forests , that gets taller and darker instead of deeper , with more dangerous animals living further out in the forest . A person decides to cross the Mariana Trench	DAY 5 I don ’ t know why I did it. I thought I did, but now I ’ m not sure. Cold, wet, silent. Not a drop of sun to warm the bones. The black maw before me eagerly consumes the light from my tiny headlamp. Why did I come here … alone? The air thickens on the descent. Repulsive odors ooze from the slimy walls. How can anything live down here? It is a bottomless well of fearful specters. How can I even begin to describe the trees? Godlike in their immensity, they have stood for ages in the deepest places. They frighten me, in truth. I feel them groan and imagine their anger at my trespass. I camp the first night on a ledge about a third of the way down the east slope. Though to call it night might be presumptuous. Here, night is eternal. No, I sleep because I am bone-tired after hours of hiking and belaying -- and because of the noises. Starting as a low, distant hum, they drifted undifferentiated through the ancient arbor. Now though, as I make my way further down, an eerie din is rising. I hear cackles, whistles, reptilian croaking, each sound never heard by human ears before. This cacophony is the song of hell, and I dare not enter the gates tired and unprepared. Tomorrow, God willing, I will reach the bottom.
[ CW ] Write the first and last paragraph of a story and make me want to know what happened in between .	The clap of thunder over head made my heart race but I did n't quicken my pace. `` We better get inside.'' I call over the rumble. `` What? Are you scared of a little thunder?'' David laughted but didnt move any faster. It was raining again, as it normally does in Seattle. But rain does n't bother me much anymore. In fact, that's how I met my best friend, David. The translucent blue, glow of the rift seems to call to me. I turned back once to look at David. He was clutching his chest, trying in vain, to stop himself from bleeding out. I drop the knife on the rain soaked pavement. I refused to let myself think about David, my once best friend, dying feet from me. No more lies, no more secrets, nothing would keep me from the truth this time. I did n't know where; or for that matter when, the rift led but I had no choice. I knew what I had to do now. What only I could do. Behind me I hear David's dying moan as I step boldly into the rift. Determined to tack down the one person the one person the people of the world would soon fear most... Myself.
[ WP ] You find a magical amulet that switches your sex . You try to reverse it but the amulet is lost . You have to figure out how to explain to everybody that you 're the opposite sex now .	Wandering around the market, Darius found himself drawn to a stall boasting hoards of antiques. In particular, a large amulet hanging by a length of purple ribbon on an ancient wrought iron coat rack. The charm was shaped like a multi-pointed silver star, corners jutting out in all directions, gleam obscured by years of grime and filth. Adorning the center, a large magenta jewel that seemed to be infinitely deep. Darius found himself getting lost in the purplish-red abyss. “ Find anything interesting? ” squeaked the short, mousy teen behind the counter, half hidden behind a stack of dusty books. “ Oh! Hello, I did n't see you there. ” Darius had almost fallen over, dragging the hole rack over with him. It was if she had appeared out of nowhere. “ How much for this necklace-thing? ” Picking up the amulet and removing it from the rack, he placed it on the counter. Picking up a magnifying glass, the girl took a moment to examine the jewel. “ Hmm… looks pretty old, I do n't remember stocking this piece though. How's about $ 65? Final sale, no refunds, so be careful if you do buy it. ” “ I'll take it! ” Darius paid the girl and began to make his way home, reveling in his good fortune. ‘ Joanna is going to love this! And even if she does n't I can resell this thing for some pretty sweet cash ’ Darius thought to himself as he got into his car and turned the ignition. Later, Darius had arrived home and began to clean his house so Joanna would not think him more of a pig than he already was. Darius chuckled to himself at the thought. Once the house was clean, he turned his mind back to the amulet. It was her birthday in a week anyways, he might as well give it to her now. He couldn ’ t wait to see the look on her face when he gives it to her after dinner, and then when he gives her the amulet too. Another chuckle. But first, the thing was filthy, it was in desperate need of a good polishing. Using some dish soap and a wet rag, Darius set to cleaning the amulet. As the last bit of dirt was wiped clear, he stopped to admire it, placing the ribbon around his neck, testing the look. A strange smell began to rise from the jewel, almost like… sulfur? Vision growing hazy, Darius hit the ground, limp as a ragdoll and dead to the world. Coming to, Darius felt a searing pain in his head, so he stumbled to the bathroom mirror to assess the damage, and found a woman staring back at him. Panicking, he began to feel the mirror, then himself, searching for any way for this to be a dream. No matter how much he pinched himself ( herself? ), this was definitely real. Then, the amulet, could it change him back? Where was it? The amulet was nowhere to be found, no matter how hard he looked, overturning furniture and even uprooting plants. The only proof it was there, a purple ribbon hanging around his neck, and a tattoo in the same shape between his, well now her, definitely female breasts, exactly where the amulet had just hung. Defeated, Darius sank to the floor, house in ruins, when a knock sounded on the door. A few seconds later: “ Hey babe, can you open up? Its cold out. ” “ Well shit. ” Thought Darius, Joanna was here for their date.
[ WP ] You wake up with no memories , floating in a glass tube , which is then cracked open by people claiming to be there to rescue you .	I've always felt nothing. Ever since I could remember, I've always felt nothing. One day, that changed. I could hear movements. Of course, I know what hearing is. The doctors like to talk to me. Of course, I also know what English is. But one day, I heard movements. They were footsteps, but not normal footsteps. There were a lot of these, and they were frantic and out of order. `` He's in here!'' Voices. Is the doctor here to feed me? And yes, I know what hunger is. The doctor told me what hunger is. `` What did they do to you...'' A different voice. This one is distressed. I want to talk back, but I ca n't talk. The doctor tells me I need a tongue to talk. `` What are you waiting for? Get him out!'' A few noises on the tube. I know what a tube is. The doctor told me that I live in a tube. I wonder what their tubes are like. `` Three, two, one...'' A crack. I know what cracks are. The doctor broke something once and the other doctor yelled at him. I know what break is too. The doctor told me I was broken. `` Do it again!'' Ah, the distressed voice. `` Three, two, one...'' Another crack. Ooh, a new sound. Is this what happens when a crack becomes a break? `` We're almost there! Make another hole and break the glass!'' What is this feeling. I can feel. It's like I'm moving! `` Three, two, one...'' Crack. Break. I'm moving again. What joy! `` Shit, the glass! Someone hold him, we need to make a bigger opening!'' `` I got it!'' A new voice. Or wait, was the new voice here all along? Oh, a feeling. It's warm, like when the doctor warms my tube. Only part of me is warm though. Another break! I feel... empty in my tube. `` Hey! Are you alive?'' `` Check his eyes if he's conscious.'' Warm feelings all over me. I feel warm feelings everywhere. I feel warm feelings on my upper parts. `` Sis, I do n't think...'' Oh, breathing. Breathing in my chest parts. I know what a chest is. The doctor told me what a chest is. It's so warm. I like my new tube full of warm. `` His eyes. Is he alive?'' Warm on my upper part again. Oh, a head. That's what it's called. The doctor told me that too. My upper part is a head! `` Sis, that's the thing. They're not there.'' More warmness on my head. I feel moving. I love moving! `` Hey! Do you remember who I am?'' More warmth. Oh, a new feeling. It makes me feel giddy. `` You two, give it up. We ca n't save this one.'' The other voice. This one is farther away. I know what farther is. The doctors did n't have to tell me that one! `` Of course we can. We can fix him! We'll give him new arms, new legs and even new e-'' `` That's not the point. The damage is n't something that we can repair.'' `` What the hell are you talking about?!'' A fight! A fight! The doctors have these sometimes! It's when they talk very loud at each other! `` It's his brain.'' `` His... brain?'' It's quiet again. I want a fight! I want a fight! `` Okay, I know what I need to do.'' Footsteps. They're coming closer. `` Hey, thank you for what you did for me.'' Warmth. Warmth on my face. I like this warmth. `` I'll make it up to you. I'll rescue you.'' Rescue. That's a word I do n't know about. I like new words. The doctor always gives me new words. `` Give me the gun.'' Another new word! `` Sis, are you sure?'' `` It's my fault this happened to him.'' Footsteps. One set footsteps going to the other one. A ring. The sounds of metal. I know what metal is. The doctor told me metal. It goes ping and ding. Footsteps. They're getting closer. A cold feeling on my upper. No, a cold feeling on my head. I do n't like cold feelings. `` I'll save you from this pain.'' A loud noise! A new feeling. This feeling. Feeling. Feeling. Feeling. What is this feeling. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. It's hot. I do n't like hot.
[ WP ] An assassin cow hired to kill the farmer who raised him	YOU SLAUGHTERED THEM! No! Norbie I — MY PARENTS! MY Sister! my friends and enemies alike. The babies. And for what!? FOR WHAT! Norbie put that gun down. norbie now listen to reason. norbie. Norbie! LISTEN TO FUCKING REASON! LISTEN TO— THE GALL! What reason could you POSSIBLY have for the incessant slaughter of my people!? huh? TELL ME Norbie TELL ME THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE They were… they were processed into big macs BIG WHATS big macs. It ’ s this type of food OOOOOOH MY GAWD! Oh my gawd oh my gawd oh my gawd. YOU FUCKING HUMANS WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR SPECIES! FOOD!? YOU TURNED MY BRETHEREN INTO FOOD!? WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE THAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE AND TAKE AND TAKE AND TAKE FROM THE OTHER SPECIES OF THIS WORLD AND EXPECT NO CONSEQUENCES!? … you will be the first of billions to feel my wr— Time and time again, Farmer Brown was shown he could always rely on his handy dandy bionic vagina security system 3000 to pull him out of rough situations
[ EU ] In an alternate timeline , Sesame Street grew up with its viewers , with later seasons covering increasingly advanced subject matter . For example , Count von Count teaches set theory , and Telly Monster teaches trigonometry .	We grow up. That's the fact of life. But, for some of us, we are forced grow up suddenly. Some of us grow up to early. But we all have to one day face this reality. Now I am a fan of Sesame Street. I bet most of my friends are. We grew up on it. It was with us from kindergarten to the last years of college. I remember how I would sing almost every song they sang as a kid to my parents. Bet I drove them insane. But they show was so popular not for its songs, but because it grew up with its audience. By the time I hit middle school, it was tackling things like History, Algebra, Health, even a little philosophy. I remembered when Wisus Manus said, `` The curiosity and awe of life is what drives Philosophy, kids''. He would become one of my favorite characters, along with the Count. He was probably the only reason I passed any of my tests in math. As time went on, characters changed. Elmo went from a young child like `` monster'', to a caring person, willing to help anyone. I remembered the most touching episode of my early high school years was when he talked and comforted those who had fought in WWII or survived The Holocaust. He taught me how to become a better person. Also as time went on, they tackled more complicated matters. From Religion, to politics, to even gay marriage ( one of the more controversial episodes to some people ). They taught millions of people how to be happy, healthy, smart and good people. But then the last episode came. I remembered that I had just graduated College, so I decided to go down trip to memory lane. I flipped to channel 9 on my old TV, I saw Cookie Monster looking down in sorrow. When ever he passed someone, he would pull on a smile. For them. But Big Bird ( another of my favorite characters ), walked up to him and started talking. BB: Hey, Cookie, is something wrong. Cookie Monster faked a pained smile. And tried to brush it off. Cookie: it nothing. Me fine. Big Bird tried to offer Cookie Monster a cookie but he pushed it away. Cookie: Me no hungry. BB: What? you love cookies! Cookie please tell me, are you sure there's nothing wrong. I just want to be sure. Cookie Monster sighed. Taking a deep breath. Cookie: Mom was coming to see Cookie Monster BB: Thats great, what's wrong with that. Cookie: She was in bad crash. BB stopped and looked down in pity. Cookie: We argued last night over if dad should come. Cookie Monster went a bit out of character, as if the actor was struggling to say it. Big Bird hugged him tightly. A water spilled over Cookie's eyes. BB: Cookie Monster, it's not your fault. It's not. Cookie: I wished I could have said goodbye. BB: Cookie, my mom told me, that bad things will happen to good people. But just because you argued, it does n't mean she hated you. She loved you a lot. Big Bird waved his arms and the entire neighbor hood came over to hug Cookie. BB: We love you to. And if you need help, just ask. No one should have to deal with these things alone. Soon everyone was at Her funeral with Cookie Monster. Everyone looked down at Cookie Monster, with pity and sympathy. A look of sorrowful pain gripped Cookie's face. But then he liked at friends and smiled weakly. When the episode was done. I cried a little. I've never seen such dark and heavy things tackled before on the show. It still is with me to this day. We one day have to grow up.
[ WP ] A laptop was delivered at your house which , when booted , opens the source code of the universe . You can now program anything on earth .	My new laptop was finally here. A top-of-the-range MacBook Pro with Touch Bar. Beautiful bodywork, a powerful dedicated laptop GPU and macOS Sierra. I booted it up. Went through the setup process, chose default settings. Got to the desktop and a weird window opened. Looked like the Steam updater thing, but it was installing files and showing their names as they were installed. A peculiar file was taking longer to install than all the others. Its filename was UProgrammer.osx. UProgrammer? What the hell? Never heard of that before. When the window closed, I opened the Finder and looked thoroughly through the disk. I found the UProgammer folder, went into it and ran UProgrammer.osx because why not. The laptop's new, if it's malware then I can just reinstall macOS and it's gone. A window opened and a greeting waited for me. Welcome to Universe Programmer for Mac 2.3! In this update, we've fixed a bug where MacBooks with Touch Bar refused to start UP properly. I clicked the Continue button. A simple terminal-style interface greeted my eyeballs with a Microsoft Word-style menu at the top. A huge amount of random code was there. Wait, Universe Programmer? Can I program the universe with this? Sweet. First, snacks. sudo create item.BagOfCrisps currentLocation ( x=0m, y=0m, z=0.1m ) A bag of crisps fell on my head. Wait, how did I know what to type? Eh, who cares. Let's get properly started. I typed search and hit enter. Text appeared saying Search for anything that ever existed. Just like a modern search engine, but you can search anything. And we mean anything. I searched Donald Trump and selected the top result. A diagram of Trump's internal organs appeared. Hmmm... I had an idea. I selected the heart. Looked inside its own source code. I typed: sudo organ.heart.DonaldTrump setRate 0 Pressed enter. I did some other stuff too. Made a box of cookies appear in my friend's house, fed my cat without having to get up. I finished with UP for the day, mirrored my Boot Camp partition and installed Steam on it. Five hours later, TRUMP DEAD DUE TO CARDIAC ARREST was the biggest news headline. I laughed to myself. I did that. I thought: I am the most powerful being in the world now. And my quest for world domination began.
[ WP ] Aliens land on Earth and request the bodies of their fallen kin to mourn them . The US government is reluctant to admit they dissected them 60 years ago .	`` Greetings President Obama. My, it's been awhile. We gave you the great pyramids and so much technology all of those years ago in order to advance your race thousands of years ahead of time. I see that you've done very well for yourself. We are very pleased with your progress, so we have returned to give you the answers, to the problems that are currently plaguing your world. No longer, will your fellow man have to go hungry, or die of terrible diseases. No longer will you slowly turn the air you breathe into poison. I only wish that our previous mission had been succesful, so that we could have ended this suffering for you decades ago. As you all know, we sent two of our most beloved brothers to meet you here, 60 years ago. A token of respect, towards the human race. It was so unfortunate that the dilithium crystals became unstable and caused the engine malfunction that in turn, caused the ship to crash.'' `` Umm well actually... Lord Xenos....most people do n't know about that...'' `` What? of course they do. Surely you told the people of such an extraordinary find. We saw by their trackers that a team of your people recovered them from the wreckage almost instantly. We thank you for that by the way. Ensuring that their bodies were not left for wild animals to eat.'' `` Well, you're welcome, but....'' `` Because On our planet, it is absolutely paramount, that the bodies of our dead be preserved. There is no greater dishonor to a family than to have the body of a loved one desecrated.'' `` Uhh....'' `` In fact, If you could please take us to your preservatorium, so we may pay our respects to them.'' `` Well, here's the thing, your Lordship. When your people crashed here... We got frightened. It was the first time, that we had, undeniable proof that intelligent life existed on other planets. We uhh did n't know if their was a full scale war coming, or....'' `` Ha, nonsense, the Vorlocks are a peaceful species.'' `` Well that's goo...'' `` Unless of course you desecrate the bodies of our dead. That's like our one rule hahaha.'' `` Oh... well the thing is....'' `` Wait. You did n't....'' `` It's just that there was so much to learn by dissecting...'' `` DISSECTING?!?!?!?!'' `` Yes but...'' `` ZORDON! PREPARE THE BLACKHOLE DEVICE!! We are going to wipe you vile planet out of this universe. but not before we torture every single one of you. GRAB THE PRESIDENT!'' No, but... Please!'' Sarlar, grabs the president. He shackles his ankles with a spreader bar, bends him over the desk and shackles his hands to the desk. `` As for you Mr. President. You will be tortured the entire time as you watch all 7 billion of your fellow humans be torn apart limb by limb. You will be kept on the edge of death the entire time, and in immense pain. Do you see this?'' He shows the president what looks like a dildo out of the movie Se7en, but on steroids. Spinning blades. Cannisters of salt that shoot into the open wounds. The works. He starts moving it towards the presidents quivering anal cavity `` AHHHHHHHH!!!!'' `` AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!'' Both, Lord Xenos, and President Obama, scream. One in terror. One in anger. The probe moves closer and closer towards the President. `` I just have one thing left to say to you before we begin the torture....Barack...'' `` WHAT??'' The president screams, crying his eyes out. `` We're fucking with you.'' Laughter errupts from the Vorloxes `` Wha... wh....What?'' `` We obviously already knew that you sliced their shit up. That's one of the stupidest things about you guys. Is how much you care about your dead bodies. Perfectly good meat and organs going to waste. Besides, those guys we're dicks.'' More laughter `` So... you're not going to destroy our entire world'' `` We are currently exploring 2 million life bearing planets. If we destroyed a planet every time someone, dissected one of our crash victims, There'd be, like, a lot less planets dude.'' `` Oh Thank God. You do n't have an extra pair of intergalactic underwear lying around do you? hahah'' `` Haha, we'll hook you up man. Hey I'll give you a tip, if one of us ever dies here again. Our eyes. Full of super-nutrients not found on earth. They can make you live 5 times as long, and stop aging instantly. You should have eaten them.'' `` We totally did! Hahahahah'' `` Hahahaha''
[ FF ] The Measure of a Man ( 200 words or less within 24 hours for reddit gold ! )	I do n't expect to be in the run for the gold, seeing how I desecrated the word limit, but I still think you should read it. We were almost sure we had made it, until we reached the 5th floor stairwell and found it hidden in smoke. All 20 of us looked around the floor desperately for another way down but it was soon clear that the only way out of the crumbling building was through the rapidly spreading inferno. `` Why are n't the sprinklers working?!'' I heard someone shriek. It was Suzanne. She worked in... probably legal, and like us was one of the unlucky ones who were working overtime on a Friday. `` The earthquake must've broken the automatic release valves,'' said the ever-helpful Brian who was standing beside me. And then it hit me. `` There's a manual valve, up on the roof. Lou the janitor showed it to me when we were up there for a smoke,'' I muttered. Within a second, 20 pairs of eyes started scanning the room to find the person who would climb 35 flights of stairs in the dark in a building that would surely collapse in the aftershock. I glanced around the room once and without a word started sprinting upwards. `` DAVE! WHAT THE FUCK MAN...!'' Alan screamed behind me. Without slowing down, I managed to blurt out `` What is the... measure of a man, except for his... deeds... in life...'' when my breath ran out. They were three floors below me by then. No one would hear it anyway. I was almost crawling by the time I reached the roof and luckily found the door unlocked. It took me a while to find the large and rusty valve and I quickly discovered that it was jammed. That's when the searchlight hit me. I looked up and was greeted by the outline of a news chopper. It was coming down. When the helicopter was a few feet above he roof, a rope slid down and a voice shouted, `` Grab on!'' `` No!'' I shouted back, desperately looking around for a crowbar, `` There's people inside the building!'' Someone jumped down, grabbed me and started dragging me toward the rope. `` Let go...'' I protested feebly as I felt the floor start to shake once again. Within seconds we were on the helicopter and it was pulling away, leaving the violently trembling roof behind. Just then, the door to the roof burst open and Alan stumbled out, followed by Brian. They had just enough time to see me on the helicopter before the building collapsed below them. ``... and the friends he keeps,'' I thought and broke down in tears.
[ WP ] You and a friend are in line to learn how long you have left to live . Your friend is told he has 844 sneezes left to live . You learn you have 3,027 hours left of sleep .	You saw the sign: “ How much longer will you live? Madame Fanadi can tell. ” How accurate are fortunes? You scoff at it, but it sounds funny. Is it palm reading? Tea leaves? Crystal ball? You bet you can spot the tricks. After all, you know best. You come back tomorrow with your best friend, Mary. He thinks like you, it sounds hilarious. It's not what you expect. There's no crystal ball, no candles, no incense. There's a twenty something lady in a loose dress standing there with a cup of coffee. No nonsense. “ 20 bucks. Each. ” Mary has to hold back her laughter. “ Are you Fanadi? ” “ Yep, ” she says. “ 20 bucks each. ” You look at her. You look at Mary. What do you have to lose? You fork over the cash. Mary will pay you back. Eventually. Fanadi just takes the money and writes down two notes. She hands them to you, your names scrawled on the front. Your name is correct, even with that odd spelling. Mary's is right too. She ushers you out as another person shuffles in. “ Man, that was weird, ” Mary says immediately upon leaving. When you start opening your note she stops you. “ Sure you want to do that? ” You laugh. Of course you do. Why else did you just pay 40 bucks? And somehow, she managed another surprise: your note just says 3,027 hours of sleep. You look at Mary's. 844 sneezes. You meet eyes and laugh. It's pretty obvious: you were just swindled out of 40 bucks. That was then. For fun, Mary started logging her sneezes, you started logging your sleep. She got sick last month; she never made 845 You? You see your clock just hit 3,000 hours. You think maybe, just maybe, you can squeeze out another week. If you sleep less than 4 hours a night. 3,004. 3,008. 3,012. 3,016. You do n't sleep after that. You ca n't. It seems more productive to crawl into a ball and rock back and forth in the corner, as you watch your clock inch closer and closer. It's been three days. You feel cold, and your fingers do n't work properly. If you did n't live alone, you'd have asked your roommate to help, to slap you awake, to keep you from sleeping. Or at least to get you some food. But now you're standing in the kitchen, wondering if it was you that just cut your finger instead of the onion. You stare at the blood for a second. And everything goes dark.
[ WP ] As a joke , you start a cult online , creating a blog of your `` visions '' from God/your made up gods/whatever . However , things start to get out of hand as your following grows larger and larger .	All I was trying to do was prove a point to my fundamentalist Christian friend about how easy it is to manipulate people if you push the right buttons. I never thought it would go this far. It was all supposed to be a big joke. All I did was use a little clever photoshop and gave people a few bullshit but charismatic answers to the big philosophical questions regarding our existence. I just wanted him to see how crazy some parts of religion look to an outsider that had not been indoctrinated into that belief set. I'm not really sure where it moved from satire to something else entirely. It might have been when the money began to pour in. I did n't even ask for it at first, they just started giving it to me. Hundreds, then thousands, eventually millions. That was pretty fantastic, I must say. I even convinced myself it was n't a scam if they were giving willingly. Maybe it was when I saw that fathers would happily give me their daughters if I so desired. I never took the girls though. I did n't need to, and violating kids was not my particular vice at all. My one big weakness is an addiction to power. I had never felt it before this all began, but now that I have experienced it I will do anything necessary to keep it. My teachings may be very fake, but my belief in having total control is very real. My followers grow in numbers every day, and opposition is beginning to rise up against me. The fools will be crushed like ants. My power will only continue to grow. The truth will be whatever I proclaim it.
In this world no body ever dies from sickness or old age , but once a year you have to pass a test to continue living . Describe one of these tests [ WP ]	`` We have to put you in our own chair, Mr. Carlyle, I'm sure you understand.'' The young girl's voice had a brightness to it he had not heard in quite a few years. He could tell she was new here. Everyone who was n't called him by his first name. With help from another orderly, she lifted Mr.Carlyle from his electric wheelchair and into a manual one. She gently placed the brown sack he brought with him into his lap. He sat solemnly as she began to slowly push him down the seemingly endless hallway. He heard a few familiar voices call out to greet him. The rest of the orderlies just looked on silently; some in horror, others in fascination. After all, this man was to go down in history. No one had been able to survive the tests as long as he had. Today was his 64th birthday. Testing began at the age of 18 and continued once per year on each person's birthday. Most subjects lost the will and ability to pass the test by the time they reach 30 years old. The population stayed at a manageable number and remained young and vigorous. All except for Mr. Carlyle. The old man appeared tired. He slumped forward in his chair. His hair was mostly lost, save for a few straggling greys. He wore a dirty blindfold over his eyes and bandaged hands without digits. He had no need for shoes as he had long since given up his legs. His throat was fitted with an electronic voice box and the dull, repeating sounds of the respirator fitted into his chest caused a haunting echo as they reached the end of the corridor. Two ornate wooden doors opened to reveal a large room without much in the way of decor. White carpeting covered the floor beneath white walls and on the far side of the room, one man sat elevated; flanked by two other people on each side. These were the justices and test administrators. All five wore plain, black masks to conceal their identities. `` Thank you, Emily.'' The Grand Arbiter's booming voice echoed in the Testing Room. `` You may leave us now. `` The young orderly nodded quickly and scurried from the room. The Grand Arbiter continued, `` Welcome back, James.'' James did not respond to him, and the respirator was all that broke the uncomfortable silence. Determined to keep the test moving smoothly, the Grand Arbiter continued, `` You were my first test as Grand Arbiter, James. I could n't believe it. My first test was with the man who on that same test would break the record for most tests passed. That was nearly forty years ago, and, since then, I've watched you pass test after test, showing an incredible daringness and will to live. I've seen you sacrifice your money, your home, your wife, kids, eyesight, voice and so much more. I wo n't bore you with the entire speech as you clearly know the test well: sacrifice the thing that means the most to you in this world and you will be allowed to live another year.'' James let out a groan and turned over his bag, revealing its emptiness, and dropped it on the floor. `` I...'' Talking had become laborious for him, so he paused for a moment and the echo of his respirator was again the only sound. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before he spoke again. `` I'm tired, David. I've given more of myself than I ever had. I... I've come here today to bring to you the only thing I have left; the only thing that always seem to matter so much.'' He spoke slower and strained more with each word. `` Grand Arbiter... Justices... I...'' `` I've come to give you my life...''
[ FF ] It was a dark and stormy night ... ( 100 word max )	It was a dark and stormy night, rain sliced sideways through pitch black, illuminated by the occasional criss-cross of lightning against the sky. The sparks in the clouds were always followed by a boom just seconds behind. I ran through this with abandon, searching for the refuge of any port in a storm. My body was a boat, and no ports would have me. I sank to the ground and wept, tears joining the rain as it puddled into mud. I acquiesced, and gave myself to the earth. It was a dark and stormy night, and it was my last.
[ WP ] The last man on earth sits alone in a room . He gets an email .	I rapidly tapped my fingers on the desk subconsciously as I stared at the glowing screen. It had taken so long to find a working laptop, generator, and internet connection, that I was more than happy to wait as long as I needed to for the letter to go through. Finally, the message `` Inbox [ 1 ]'' popped up on my screen. I quickly opened my inbox and found the email. My heart raced as it loaded. After all this time, I would get to have a conversation. `` Hi,'' it said, simply enough. I quickly began responding. `` Who are you?'' He or she asked me. `` I'm David.'' I tried to keep up and respond to every message. I grinned ear to ear at my hopefully new best friend. `` I'm lonely. Will you be my friend?'' He asked me. `` I thought I was the last survivor.'' We continued to talk for hours about every little detail of our lives. He started to get very somber before he finally messaged me, `` I have a secret to tell you. It's not a big one, but it is important to me.... I'm very very sad. I think I may commit suicide. I'm just so lonely. Before I met you, I had no one.'' I completely understood his loneliness, and pitied him. `` You are a really great guy, David. I'm so happy we're friends,'' he said. I giggled in happiness when I read it, and quickly minimized my email. I opened back up the other internet page I had open. `` Email yourself in the future!'' The page read. I quickly entered November 12th, 2021 and 3:23 p.m. onto the page. I scrolled down to the text box and typed, `` Thank you, David. I think you're great, too. Please do n't ever leave me.'' I clicked send, and the screen went white. A big red'x' appeared at the top of the page next to text that read, `` Sorry, the page has crashed.'' I refreshed. And refreshed. And refreshed and refreshed and refreshed. It just would n't come back. I began to scream at the computer. I went to my email and tried to respond directly. The white page with the red'x' appeared. I threw the laptop against the wall and fell to my knees. `` David!'' I screamed out. But David was no longer there.
[ IP ] The Conjurers	Constable Parker did not much care for nonsense. He was a no-nonsense kind of police officer. He had little patience for concepts like reincarnation, inter-dimensional oneness, and universal love. Some days, he felt very impatient indeed. Today was such a day. Standing in the middle of the square were a couple of old coots cavorting with the pigeons. Parker had seen this kind of thing before; old folks who kept losing their marbles and got tired of looking for them. Looked like a married couple too. Sad, sad, sad, thought Constable Parker as he hitched up his pants and walked over to the old man and old woman who were covered in birds, chanting and singing in spirited tones. `` What's all this then?'' said Constable Parker with a complete and utter lack of appreciation for the cliche. The old couple continued to dance and sing with the pigeons cooing and bobbing along to the tune. All parties concerned seemed perfectly content to keep on ignoring Constable Parker. `` Ahem,'' Constable Parker cleared his throat. `` Beggin' your pardon but what is all this nonsense?'' `` What's it look like?'' said the man in the blinder cap. `` It's nonsense!'' `` Well I wo n't have it happening next to the pigeons,'' said Constable Parker. `` So much dancing ca n't be good for'em! So shove off!'' `` Oh poo,'' said the woman in the hat with the large pheasant feather stuck into it. As she danced, the feather lightly smacked Constable Parker in the face which did nothing to improve his mood. `` Dancing never hurt anyone,'' chirped the old woman. `` Especially not pigeons.'' `` Then I'm afraid,'' said Constable Parker without even a hint of regret in his voice. `` That you are both under arrest.'' The couple stopped dancing to look at the police man. Then they looked at each other and burst into fits of laughter. `` Now stop that,'' said Constable Parker as he took out his cuffs. `` I have no patience for this kind of thing. Now hold still so that I may cuff you.'' `` Cuff us with what?'' laughed the old man. `` With marshmallows?'' Constable Parker looked down into his hands where his cuffs had been replaced by exactly seven marshmallows. His mustache twitched and he threw the puffs of sugar to the ground in frustration and shock. The pigeons immediately began to peck away at them. `` Look, you,'' said Constable Parker, grabbing the old man by the lapels of his jacket. `` I do n't know who you think you are or how the hell you did that but if you think this is funny-'' `` Oh, I really do,'' beamed the old man. `` Right!'' yelled Constable Parker. `` Come with me to the station right this moment or I'll... I'll do something drastic is what I'll do!'' `` Constable Parker, please,'' said the old woman. `` You're becoming unraveled. Have some tea.'' Constable Parker was astounded to find that he was suddenly holding a cup of hot tea and a saucer. He dropped them both and they smashed upon the concrete. The tea, cup, and saucer then reformed and floated up to place itself neatly back into Constable Parker's shaking hands. Constable Parker babbled, `` W-what the hell are you two?'' The old man and the old woman seemed genuinely confused now, as if the answer was so obvious. `` Why,'' said the old woman. `` We're the paradox.'' `` The first wizard and first witch,'' the old man continued. `` The original alchemists.'' `` The moment when you laugh at something sad, the completely unique sameness of everything in the universe, the feeling of being crowded when your totally alone.'' `` Adam and Eve, God and Satan, the grey shades of morality.'' `` Song and silence, matter and void. We are the road to rebis; the ultimate oneness, the divine hermaphrodite. In short, we are the conjurers.'' Constable Parker sipped his tea, afraid of denying the hospitality of people like this. `` Well then,'' he said after he had collected himself enough to speak. `` If you're all that then why are you here dancing with pigeons?'' `` Why not?'' the old woman asked, her face painted with pride. `` I honestly have no response to that,'' admitted Constable Parker. `` We wanted to experience this plane of existence one last time,'' explained the old man. `` Before we step out.'' `` Out?'' asked Constable Parker. `` Out. '' said the old woman. `` There's a whole multiverse out there and we've been around this one for... oh, a few billion years and it's really been lovely but there's more to explore than just this, you know.'' `` There is?'' blustered Constable Parker who was starting to feel very small and panicky. `` Oh my, yes,'' said the old man. `` Well best be off. Take care of the pigeons for us, there's a good man.'' Constable Parker did n't know what he expected; a flash of light, a puff of smoke, a large whoosh noise. It was nothing spectacular. The old woman and the old woman simply walked into each other, became a beautiful, genderless non-entity, smiled at Constable Parker, and then they were n't there. Constable Parker sniffed and adjusted his uniform. He was glad there was n't a large whoosh noise. Constable Parker simply had no patience for that kind of nonsense.
[ WP ] A group of thieves are baffled at how lax the security measures are at their latest heist .	Rick tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at the perfectly cut diamond. He rubbed his finger under his nose and looked from side to side, seeing nothing suspicious. He could feel the bewilderment of his two colleges that flanked him, waiting for him to finish his assessment of the situation. Slowly exhaling out of his nose, Rick finally spoke. `` So let me just get this right. The back door to the place was open. Not unlocked, but actually propped open with a fire extinguisher. I mean... did n't they get a fire marshal to come round and explain to them how fucking dangerous that is? Think about it. Thousands of people visit this place every day. A fire could happen easily and if the extinguisher ins't where it's supposed to be then...'' `` Ugh, boss?'' `` What?'' `` The diamond?'' `` Wait.. I'm still thinking... Ok, so some moron decided to go out for a cigarette break, used the fire extinguisher to prop open the door, got distracted and headed back in, forgetting to close it. Fine. But then as we get inside, we find the alarm system and before we even try to disable it, we find the code for it... on a laminated sheet... sticky-taped onto wall next to it. I mean... Someone should be losing their job for that. Not to mention the fact that when we went to use the code we realised that the alarm was n't even fucking on!'' Big Al to the left gave a nervous chuckle and looked over to Steve, who was watching Rick with trepidation. The room was silent for a few moments. ``... boss?'' `` And THEN...'' Rick went on `` We find the Diamond is still sitting on display, behind a gold fuzzy rope, no alarm plate, no lasers, The CCTV cameras are pointing to the toilets AND they do n't they do n't even have it in a glass case?'' `` Yeah?.....so?'' `` So fuck that,'' Rick spluttered while dusting off his hands `` I'm fucking out.'' Turning Rick looked to them both and shook his head. `` I'm fucking out.''
[ WP ] A whole week goes past in /r/writingprompts without either an immortality or Hitler related prompt . What happens in this chaos ?	It started on a Tuesday. A peculiar day to start anything, but nonetheless, that's when it happened. That most innocent of days, /r/WritingPrompts featured no new prompts related to immortality. Nothing about Hilter either. In fact, nothing sci-fi at all. At first, the writers were elated. Stories about mischievous cats, high school dramas, and ancient civilizations quickly sprung up all over the place. It started so innocently, no one noticed the first signs of a problem, hiddden in a prompt about spring flowers. > Rose are Red > Violets are Blue > It's springtime for Hitler > In Germany too. The next day featured more of the same prompts. Outwardly, the writers were elated, but more and more stories began to drift into familiar realms. A prompt based on an Einstein quote regarding time relativity was the most obvious, receiving 300 upvotes and 40 stories involving time travel, and spaceships. By day 5, every story involved some mention of Hitler, immortality or Gods. By the time Monday rolled around, the mods decided to close the subreddit. Many writers fled to a new subreddt, /r/JustWriteShit. The final story of /r/WritingPrompts was immortalized for all time on /r/Bestof. > Hitler Hitler Hitler hitlerkin TiMeTrAvElh Itler was ImMorTAL AliEN fROM THEF UTURE Time traveling GOD met to Warn ~~humnity~~ huMANity frorm evil jwish overlonds n bye HItleR cuasin hulocust SAVED futur gens form teh evi lsof bieng IMMORTAL teh end
[ WP ] You travel back in time to the 1900 's , you take your tablet out of your rucksack only to find that there is a WiFi hotspot nearby labeled `` If you can see this , turn back . `` .	He looked around for a moment, double checking to ensure that no-one was nearby before phasing in. People were surprisingly comfortable with catching someone blinking into existence, he was told, attributing it to a lapse in attention or some other mistake -- Occam's razor in action. This was exciting! A true-to life look at 1800s London, no second hand accounts, no word of mouth, no textbooks. True, he was n't trained for studies under any significant duration, but a few hours here and there to dabble were more than enough to feed a lifelong curiosity, and the Academy knew it. He took a moment to adjust his costume, true to period, even if a strand or two of polyester was snuck in for practicality. Tip of the hat, and he strolled out towards the mouth of the alley he had started in, but he stopped when he felt a familiar vibration from his rucksack. He panicked -- Had he forgotten an alarm? Delayed message? Breaking character was enough to get him suspended for months, maybe even years. He ducked down, and before he could stifle the power on the tablet, he noticed the source. A Wi-fi connection. In 1800s London. It was a popular destination, but same-time same-place overlap was uncommon, and usually unnoticed. He brought it up just before the screen powered off, `` If you can see this, turn back.'' Very funny. He replaced the tablet into his bag, and ran into the street, eyes sweeping up and down for anything unusual -- anything out of place -- a practical joke? He crossed the wide cobblestone road, but he saw nothing. No-one. In fact, as he began to properly take in his surroundings, there really was no one at all. Not even an acceptable silence when activity is drawn elsewhere in a busy city, this was just wrong. He mumbled a few sentences under his breath in a passable local accent, and walked up the stairs to the nearest door, and knocked. Was this an acceptable thing to do in the period? He was n't sure, but he did n't have time to waste with being too proper. He knocked once. Again. Nothing. He waited. There was a sound from inside. He pushed the door in just enough to peek around the door jamb, `` Excuse me, excuse me, can anyone please assist me with finding...'' He grew quiet as he spotted something in the half-darkness of the house, unusually wide, covered in what appeared to be moving teeth. He stared through the crack in the door, trying to discern any details that would allow him to make sense of the creature in the darkness, before it jolted upright, `` Excuse me,'' He whispered. The creature began to wail. By the time he had slammed the door, and run into the street, he began to recognize the rising sound -- that of a human infant -- but not quite right. Too loud. Too powerful. He began to hear sounds of movement all throughout the street, wails and growls and thumps and crashes, shapes beginning to crawl through lamplight into the evening gray. Loud shapes. Large shapes. He sprinted into the only hiding place he knew in this hellish town, the alley he had begun his journey in. He ran to the end of it, curling into the false safety of the corner. He sat on something wet and cold -- a tablet, much like his own, tacky to the touch. The light from the dying screen showed in red-tinted text, `` If you can see this, turn back. ( Hotspot created. )''

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