Split (3)

train · 273k rows

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[ WP ] A man working a suicide hotline convinces callers to commit crimes for him before they committing suicide .	Wow this was a challenging topic to write about. First post. Response & Comments Appreciated! Fingering the cigarette against the tip of my yellow fingers, I slowly bring the death tube to my chapped lips and inhale. Five murders, five suicides, five am. Fine time of night to be working on these cases. But our lead detective just transferred out of this goddam district so now I'm stuck handling lead on homicide. I finish my cigarette and put the butt out in an ashtray so full its soot spills all over the case files. But God knows I needed that smoke break as much as I need a break in this case. A motel mattress is a great choice for death bed if you want to be found. The punk in holding now? We found him in a dingy Motel 8, clinging to life but not his lunch, puking all over the floor. The result of too many pills, no will to live, and an underdeveloped frontal lobe. We would n't have found him if it was n't for the internet. Who knows how young people use that fucken thing, but I'm glad our intern is good for more than asking me if I've tried turning it off and on again. What I just do n't get though is, how did a depressed five foot something punk with four too many piercings and the wrong shade of hair manage to tiptoe his way past the ever watchful Paul Blarts at our city's finest financial institution, Bank of America, and plant a small colorful candy skull behind the tellers' desk. And then sneak out, only to end his life at a pathetic pit stop for travelers on their way somewhere else. And all for no immediately obvious reason. It does n't make any sense. I've got the evidence photos all pinned up on the wall behind me. The four other candy skulls found at various corporate headquarters around the city, and the colorfully decorated bodies of important businessmen we found 24 hours later in the same place. Next to these are photos of the four suicide victims we've had this month, with our punk in holding almost being the fifth. Now, how the candy skulls, the painted bodies, and the suicides are connected I'm not sure, but thank God we caught this kid, and now it's time for some answers. Our intern is still here, as well as a couple of the other officers who were on the scene, milling around waiting for excitement like a lot of crows waiting for the harvest to ripen. Except all I'm looking for is a ripe confession or at least some kind of explanation from the punk. Rodriguez comes over to offer me a cup of joe, and though I do n't quite trust the intern's ability to make coffee yet, I appreciate his sentiment and accept. He greets me with a 20 million dollar smile that no 20 year old should be able to afford on his intern stipend and asks me if I've made any breaks in the case. So naturally, I cheerfully respond by spitting at him to get lost, and that I did n't need any of his tech savvy or wizardry to solve this case but good job anyways on intervening in this punk's suicide attempt. And I'm alone at my desk again paging through files, littering my workspace with images of death and conspiracy. What is this killer's motive and why the MO? A candy skull. A businessman's body. And suicides. It's so goddam hard to think with all the junior officers gossipping like I Love Lucy and all her friends over there in the corner. Do n't they need to go to bed? I know there's got ta be a connection between these suicides and these murders. It's more than coincidence that every businessman's corpse we've stretchered into the morgue came with a self-terminated partner. And this time, I've got evidence that links a potential suicide victim to the candy skull MO. A slam, and Sargent Li bursts through the double doors at the end of the office, aiming her strides directly at me. From the look on her face, we got the confession. Or something. She gracefully slides herself into the chair opposite my desk and leans in to let me know they did n't get everything, the punk's still loopy from the charcoal, but they collected an interesting piece of information. “ Suicide Hotline, ” she relayed to me. And there's more. The punk had sputtered that a handsome voice on the other end of the Suicide Hotline set him up for the events of tonight, and that we do n't believe him? Try calling the number yourself. So I steal a glance at the resources phone directory posted on the other side of my desk to find the listing... sexual assault... stds... suicide & crisis hotline. I punch the number into the sticky office phone buttons and let the line connect. Behind me, the intern's phone starts to ring.
[ WP ] In the future , countries do not have conventional wars , but solve disputes every two years through the winter and summer Olympic games . America decides to conquer the world .	The lights flash across the stadium, centering on the center of the vast arena. A picture of Earth appears on the ground, which is like a large screen. “ Ladies and Gentlemen, ” a female voice booms across the stadium. “ On behalf of the people of Berlin, of Germany, and of the International Olympic Committee, we present to you the Parade of Nations of the 45th Olympic Games! ” The procession begins has it has for the past 180 years, with the nations marching out beginning with Greece, then going in alphabetical order. The flags wave proudly in the winds of the stadium, and the athletes begin to appear from a hidden area below the stadium. They are raised on one at a time on a platform in the center of the main floor. However, what is relatively new is the use of the War Banners. Each nation may brandish a War Banner which exhibits whether or not it is at war. Athletes will then hold up another banner that declares who the nation wishes to fight and the reason for fighting. It may seem gruesome, but we have effectively ended war as a result; we now resort to solving our disputes every two years at the summer and winter Olympic Games. I can barely see from my seat high up in the stadium. All the seats are bathed in a deep glowing blue from the lights which encircle the stadium, but I can just make out the flags and the War Banners. Most countries hold the white banners of peace. I feel a rush of excitement and pride when I see this. Pride for our species. We may not be able to put aside our differences, but at least we are not killing innocent people or each other for that matter. Of course, a few nations do express their desire for war. The Russian team rises on the platform under their flag and next to it, their War Banner is crimson with a black spear, lined with silver. It is the banner of war. A few of the athletes raise a black banner with the words UKRAINE painted in white and below it in smaller lettering “ Support for East Ukraine ”. This isn ’ t entirely surprising, considering the ongoing conflict between the two, which is yet to be resolved due to a series of ties. Soon the nations with names beginning with “ U ” are coming onto the stadium floor. Again a flurry of white banners and few red banners, but mostly peace and normalcy. Then we arrive at “ V ”, where the US is according to the German alphabet. I ’ m getting excited and feel butterflies in my stomach, as I always feel proud when I see my flag, the US flag, waving. The athletes look incredibly proud, especially because the United States has held a white flag for forty years now, close to the beginning of this new style of conflict resolution. The US is next and the platform lowers to receive the US athletes. It begins to rise, but this time we don ’ t see the banner. I figure the banner-bearer must have simply been delayed, but then I see movement on the platform, and what I see makes my heart drop. Next to our beautiful flag is a red banner with a black spear. The banner of war. This isn ’ t possible. This has to be a mistake. An uneasiness passes over the entire stadium, as we wait to see whom the US is challenging. Many athletes, at least 30 help to raise a banner, larger than any of the others before, above the flag and banner of war. The black banner is contrasted against the white words which say “ EVERY AND ALL NATIONS ” with words under it “ Conquest and the birth of a Global Imperial Order ” It takes a few moments before people begin to realize what those words mean, and soon the stadium is filled with screams and shouts. The people closest to me begin attacking me, as if I had something to do with this. Someone tries to grab me, but I begin to run. I step on legs and push people aside, but I rush through my row and make it to the veranda overlooking the stadium to the left and exit doors on the right. It ’ s absolutely packed and the entire place seems to have become one large, loud, organism, writhing with anger and fury. I can ’ t see too much, but fires have begun in the audience stands. People burning flags of America and its allies. Voices boom in the loud speakers of the stadium, trying to induce a sense of calm, but it simply isn ’ t working. Suddenly, a new voice appears over the loudspeakers, “ This is for the good of the world and for all mankind. This conquest is for the betterment of humanity. ” I have no idea how many people understood that, but I ’ m guessing most did, as somehow, everything gets louder and more violent. I can still barely move in the crush of people, but I see people being thrown off balconies. Flags and banners of various nations being thrown out of the seats and onto the floor of the stadium. Athletes are attacking each other and there is no order. Blood has been spilt and war has begun. * It was all a ploy. While other nations collapsed their defenses in light of the new style of the Olympic Games, the US kept its military running in secret, mostly in black sites. Of course, our military was smaller than what it was at the turn of the century, but it was still more than enough to begun world conquest. Were we successful? Not entirely. The government imposed Martial Law immediately following the events of the opening night of the Games. Within weeks, they had occupied Mexico, Canada, and Central America, and were planning invasions of the northern coast of South America. Western Europe fell rapidly, but the United Kingdom and Germany established a hedge against the American advance. It worked for a while, but soon America swung south through Austria and into the Balkans. At the same time, an invasion of Russia began from Alaska and, despite the near impossibility of the operation, from north over the Arctic. Many African nations fell quickly, but when the calm finally came in 2081, there had been too much destruction. The people of the U.S. rose in revolt against the government, with the military itself splitting apart and taking sides. When the Second U.S. Civil War ended, a new nation rose from the ashes. The American Republic. * Today, I sit on the porch of my home, looking out at the beautiful lake. The sky and the water both a vibrant blue. It reminds me of the blue of the stadium from so many years ago. Maybe America was not successful in conquering the world. Maybe no one nation can control the world. Who knows? But what I do know is that I ’ m about to be late for my own inauguration. My inauguration as first president of the American Republic. I think of our national motto. E Pluribus Unum; Out of many one. We shall heal. Edit: Use of the German alphabet rather than English alphabet for order of nations
[ IP ] Cold comfort	The freezing rain soaks into her skin, chilling her to the bone. It's a welcome feeling after the night she's just endured. She sits in the alley and tries to calm her fraying nerves, both scared and exhilarated. As the rain plasters her raven hair to her skull, she reflects on the the last ten years and why, after all that time, she's finally had enough. She loved him. Oh, to have been young and in love at just 17, she'd fallen prey to his talk of the future. She'd succumbed to his silver tongue. Married by 18, she began to see his true colors. Little things at first. Subtle. A jab about her weight here, a snide remark about her inability to conceive there. Until finally the clouds of his anger rolled over and he brought his thunderous fists down on her. After that first time he'd started doing it more frequently. She was convinced it was her fault. She should be more demure, remember his likes and dislikes, what set him off and what pleased him. For ten years she felt trapped. Under his fist, under his eye. Cut off from the outside world like a caged bird. Not anymore. As she sits in that chilling onslaught, she sees clearly for the first time in a long time. Shakily, she gets to her feet and inhales. She breathes in the night air, the wet pavement. She has been baptized under heaven's tears and tonight is the start of her new life. She exhales a timid laugh as she hails a cab. The bars of her cage have been wrenched open. Dripping wet, she slides into the taxi, the water droplets pattering on the fading leather. She smiles to herself and looks out the window as the car pulls away, each raindrop forging its own path on the glass.
[ WP ] Make me sympathize with an orc .	Nazgrig was a rather depressed Ork. His Waagh had just laid siege to an Imperial Forge World and by Gork and Mork that was the most fun he had ever had in all of his years of existence. A solid two years of nonstop fighting with those'Ummies' and those'Space Marines', he would n't trade the experience for anything in the Galaxy... well that would n't be exactly true, he'd definately trade it for a chance to fight in Ghazghkull's Waaagh on Armageddon, now that was a War Boss to end all War Bosses. But alas, the Planet was most obliterated after a Warp Storm had suddenly occurred, tearing the Planet asunder with it's otherworldly wrath. Daemons and Chaos forces ran rampant on the Planet, killing Ork and Imperial alike, the Storm had occurred so suddenly that neither side was prepared for it despite being in the middle of fighting. Once the Storm cleared, Nazgrig awoken to find himself pinned under some rubble in a burnt out husk of what used to be some form of a refueling station. Rubbing the kinks out of his neck and popping his dislocated arms back into place, the Greenskin found none of his kind to be in sight. The Warboss was missing, the Nobz, the Shoota Boyz, the Biker Boyz, the Rocket Rangerz, the Grechins, the Squigs, not even a simple Snotling could be found anywhere. Although he had survived the war, what good was an Ork without another Ork to share in the Orky victory? Alone and without a Waaagh or a means to leave the Planet, Nazgrig spiraled into a depression which seemed endless. There were no bodies of his kin so he could n't simply wait for them to return, even a Snotling being welcome at that point if only to relieve the tension of having no Greenskin kin by his side. Alas, what little Ummie survivors there were in the Forge World were hunted down by the depressed Ork, knowing it to be pointless again without Orks to share in the slaughter with, he could n't quell his own violent nature nonetheless. And so, Nazgrig the Mad Dok was forced to pillage and plunder an entire Imperial Forge World alone, his loneliness only becoming more apparent whenever signs of his former Waaagh could be found be it in the form of a discarded Shoota or the crumbling scrap heap that used to be a Killa' Khan. Truly, an Ork was never more pitiful then when he was alone.
[ FF ] The man who repaired the stars . 300 words or less .	`` He won ’ t come out of the trailer, ma ’ am. He says the movie ’ s shit, your directing is shit, and he ’ s just about decided he ’ s ready to get coked up and bone that girl from that awful reality show… ” Jenine waved a hand and her assistant stopped speaking. There was a terse silence on set. About 130 people, about half of them dressed like howling zombie space pirates, were idling about, glued to their smartphones while the talent dallied. “ Everyone take a break, but be back in an hour, ” Jenine called out to the assembled cast and crew as she dug her own cellphone out of her pocket. She scrolled down to his name, the man that repaired the stars: Damion Hardwick. He could of written psych textbooks and revolutionized the field, it was said in quiet whispers at extravagant parties. The Head of Coca–Cola ’ s marketing department made him a consultation offer so staggering the producer Jenine had been with that night had actuallyblushed. If he ’ d chosen to teach, well, even prestigious universities would have thrown themselves at his feet, desperate to add his name to their faculty list. But he didn ’ t have any interest, not in those things. He dealt solely with Hollywood clients—working frantically or not at all as the climate of showbiz shifted. He didn ’ t even charge outrageous amounts, but he only accepted high-profile clients. It was considered a sort of achievement among some A-listers to have the so-called “ Hardwick Stamp of Approval. ” A young, unknown actress had once landed three blockbuster roles in a row after her debut solely because Hardwick had deigned to coax her out of marrying a sheepherder from Des Moines instead of filming the independent film she ’ d been cast in. Jenine dialed, and, though she wasn ’ t religious, she prayed.
[ WP ] They would always say `` Oh it 's like it 's the end of the world '' . But what if it is ?	The sun beat down from up high, causing me to sweat far more than I would ever admit to a pretty girl. Ugh, why'd it have to be so hot? I trotted down the beaten footpath, carrying the single refrigerator magnet that had prompted my trek down to the corner shop in the breast pocket of my collared shirt. I had been mere moments away from activating my Trans-Vessel Psycho Neutronic Equiliser when the work had required a atomic-scaled metallurgic separator – Or a fridge magnet for short. Who would have guessed that between the high powered black hole simulators, caustic chemicals, and stolen radioactive waste, all my work was halted by such a basic necessity. Unfortunately Darry had decided that that very same day would be a good time to act on his childish curiosity by burning and cutting up our magnets to find out what they're made of, and whether they would'be able to attract some dope honeys'. Literally too, since not only did he believe that the common house fly used honey to attract'prey', but also that honey was magnetic. All because'a sandwich ai n't a sandwich without a little sweet, ya know?'. I had put aside my work, carefully switching the TVPNE to'idle'. This would halt the cultivation process of the specimen – A transmittable virus that was capable of altering the brain chemistry to induce, or reduce the emotional capacity of it's audience. With this device, one could inhibit anxiety, induce happiness, constrain anger; An all-in-one device that could pacify rioters, or even cure depression. The possibilities were endless! And so here I was, using my legs like some kind of primitive savage because my ElectroFlux Leg Extenders ( Trademark pending ) were out of action; Another Darry-related adventure. As far as housemates go, Darry was pretty chill. After all, he had been the only applicant who did n't mind having a garage-converted science bunker that goes bang in the night. Somebody has to pay the rent I suppose, and take-out was n't exactly cheap. I finally arrived at the front entrance to my garage, panting slightly and feeling a little dizzy from the extensive 15-minute round trip. I touched the third button on my shirt – A fingerprint scanner that raised and lowered the garage door. Funny, it had beeped it's acceptance of my print, but the door did n't open? Oh, right. The skateboard had n't been removed from the external hydraulics. Dammit Darry... I shambled to the front door and let myself in. Darry was lying on the couch throwing skittles into the ceiling fan. “ Heyyy Brannigan, how were your swimming lessons? ” TINK “ I went to the shop... ” “ Oh? ” He exclaimed, pausing for a moment before throwing another skittle into the fan. TINK I paced over to the garage door to escape the conversation, instantly regretting setting my door passcode to twenty digits long. “ When did the shops get a swimming pool? ” Sigh. 0-1-1-8-9-9-9 “ Oh yeah man, I needed some yellow paint because as it turns out, fly's do n't have honey.'Think they'd be better off as bees... ” Oh god not now.. 8-8-1-9-9 “.. so I had a look around in your garage ” “ Wha-? ” I paused, thoroughly surprised now. “ How'd you get in? ” “ Easy man, your passcode goes like BEEEEP BEEEP BEE BEE, BEEP BEEP BEEEEP- ” … I'm actually a little impressed. 9-1-1-9 “ -EEP EEP BEEP. So I went in to look for some paint but could n't find any, so I took your broom instead. ” WHERE IS THE LOGIC IN THAT? 7-2-5. “ So like, I kinda sorta hit one of your machines in there, and, like, it stopped buzzing'n stuff. ” I froze. Oh no. “ Wha... what machine was it? ” I stammered. “ It was the big one that looked like a gamecube, but more circular and spacy.'' The TVPNE! “ Like, do n't worry man, I fixed it. ” TINK “ How... did you... fix it? Exactly? ” I replied cautiously, sweating now due to reasons other than the sun. “ Man chill, I just replaced the flux capacitor and swapped the badgezer... badgeezer? Bad Geeser? Whatever you call the dynamic battery, then I hooked it up to the Infinite Telecomms Antennae you got back there and stuff. ” I was paralyzed. I did n't even know he knew the name of my equipment, let alone how to hook it up to my patented antennae that could literally transmit to the edge of space. I mean, we're talking about a guy who thought that'butter' was the word used to compare butt's, and that a good butt was'butter' than the others. “ It still were n't buzzing again, so I turned it back on. What the hell's a Tan-Vessege Pasta Nature Exercise? Does it make pasta?'lso, ya got ta pick some better names man? Why not just call it Steve? ” Shit shit shit shit shit. I lost my balance, collapsing against the wall. Beep. The final digit was accept and the door now began it's disengagement process. “ Darry.... what setting did you put it on? ” “ Uhhh... the one that's above'Blank slate'. Ultra.. taming or somethin' man ” Oh no. Oh no no no, this was n't good. Not that* setting, surely?! * The door began to open, steam blowing out of the custom hinges. Swinging slowly inwards, I peaked inside, fearing the worst. Dead in the centre of the room was the TVPNE, whirring and bouncing off the wooden support frame in a fit of anti-matter fueled fury, the setting gauge flicked all the way from'Idle' to'Ultra brain termination explosion'. Why did I even make that setting?! And more importantly, WHY DID N'T I INCLUDE A FAILSAFE TURN OFF SWITCH?! . I fell to the floor. Twelve seconds and the Infinite Telecomms Antennae would transmit a signal to the entire universe, ordering every cell in every brain in the universe to implode itself. And all I could think was that Darry was right, my naming conventions sucked. “ Hey man, I'm real sorry bro ” Darry proclaimed, now seeing my pale face and river of sweat dripping down shirt. “ But like, do n't worry about it dude. It's not the end of the world yeah? ” TINK
[ WP ] A little girl who instinctively likes to hug people unknowingly scorches all their evil away , then at a fateful day , she hugs Satan .	Here I am, at the gates of the afterlife. There's nobody here. I hear people screaming. A rotten smell enters my nose. I turn around and see a bright light. Angellic music touches my ears. Well, if there's nobody to tell me where to go... I look back once and start walking towards the light. Suddenly, a naked man punches me down. He runs to the light, with his spine on fire and a monster-like shadow. Dazed I watch him run into the bright horizon. I feel a soft touch on my shoulder. It's a man, covered in white. He offers me his hand and helps me to get up. `` What just happened?'' I ask the man. He looks kind, maybe he can tell me what's going on. `` Yeah...'' he gently puts his hand on my back. We start walking. `` What you just witnessed, was one of the last Hellingers escaping their prison. You see, Satan just does n't seem to be... Satan, anymore.'' We enter a big silver gate. I see my mom approaching me. She's floating, and beautiful as she was before she got sick. I run towards her, ready to jump in her arms. She stops me. She's got a worried look in her eyes. `` Sssh, stay calm. Heaven is n't what it used to be.'' She whispers. `` You see, a few days ago Satan apologized to God. Forgiving as He is, God gave him one last chance. They used to be friends you know, God and Lucifer.'' I look around. It's not the calm and harmonious place I thought it would be. People are fighting, some floating - like my mom - and some partly on fire. Some people look scared, some just seem to enjoy the situation. `` God would never put people in a place as dark as Hell,'' mother continues. `` That was all Satan. And with him out of the picture, there's just nobody here to pick up the souls of the taunted and the bad. Everyone's here now, the good and the evil, living together like down on Earth. Some souls are having a hard time finding peace nowadays..'' My mother sighs. `` I did n't want to do this. But now you're here, and I need your soul to be safe. I'm going. I will be the one to taunt the taunted souls. Let me take the Devil's place, so the afterlife will be in balance again. Let me damn the damned.'' My mother gives me a final hug and floats away to the gates of judgement. Quickly, the quiet returns. Every soul floats around in harmony, time and pain and anger stop existing. Lucifer approaches me. `` Thank you so much for hugging me that day I came to Earth. It was like all Evil left my soul. You freed me. Thank you so much.'' I have no idea what he is saying. I just miss my mom.
[ WP ] Military technology is so destructive , that the Nations of the planet agree to wage all wars using previous era technology instead .	The rebels ran into the building lining up in the narrow hallway. They all aimed their sawed off muskets and fired within seconds of lining up. Smoke and bullets filled the corridor. The two guards where filled with small holes before they could even take aim. The rebels pried open the doors storming the compound. A single man stood in a suit of armor brandishing two revolvers. The rebels lined up and took aim. The man pointed both guns at the rows of revolters ready to fight. `` This is war'' he said staring at them through the helmet. `` This is revolution'' they said pulling the triggers.
[ WP ] You go to sleep to the sound of a ticking clock . When you wake up , there is no longer ticking .	In 1989 the terraced house at the very far end of Pratley Lane, the far end from the perspective of the town centre, was bought by a Mr John Winsper and his wife Rose, formerly of Billwood near Coventry. Mr Winsper had been an accountant, but as of September 1988 he was retired. He and his wife had always wanted to move to Devon or Cornwall and live close to the sea. Like many an accountant, Mr Winsper preferred to err on the side of spending less than was sensible. Pratley Lane was on the opposite side of town from the sea. There was no sea view. It was a significant walk to the post office and the shop, and the houses in this part of town were not as pretty to look at as they were elsewhere. The house was not the only house amongst its neighbours that had been up for sale at the time that they were looking. However, it was the second cheapest. The previous owner had not looked after the property as well as he might, and the signs of ill treatment had given Mr Winsper the impression that he was getting a good deal. Walls needed repainting, tiles needed regrouting, carpets needed deep cleaning. These were all things that he could tackle without resorting to enlisting the help of a paid professional. Mr and Mrs Winsper died in 2004 within three weeks of each other. Eleven years later there are a few people who remember them and remember them fondly, but for the most part they are forgotten. The current resident of 49 Pratley Lane, the former home of the Winspers, is a Miss Helen Sharp. She bought the house from a man who had bought it from a relative of the Winspers. Little has changed since the house was renovated in 1989. It has mostly the same paint and mostly the same carpets. The windows and doors have not been replaced. But in the master bedroom, on the wall next to the window, there had been a nail. It had been the final act of a long and arduous campaign of frugality, and it had lasted in its job for 26 years. Miss Sharp is frugal as well, more out of necessity than ideology. She made the decision not to redecorate or fix the tap in the downstairs toilet. But she will need to buy a new clock.
[ WP ] A six year old child walks up to you and tugs on your sleeve . He does n't say anything out loud , but in your mind you hear the request as clear as day . `` I am God and I need you to protect me . ''	She was lost, nervously moving through the crowd of shoppers until her eyes met mine. She clutched at the hem of my jacket, the old army green slowly fading. We were surrounded by a thousand faces but in that moment we were alone. `` I am a God. I need you to protect me.'' Words were irrelevant, just noise that gone in the way of communicating needs and wants and desires. For this young girl though, the need was utmost. Her whole body trembled as she waited for my response. We were n't alone. The Ascendant Ones could sense other presences, a pulse that radiated out from within them and reflected back by any of those deemed Touched. We were surrounded. `` Find your own path.'' The girl looked crestfallen as I pushed past her, striding off towards the subway. She caught up quickly, tugging again at my sleeve. `` Please.'' Words. Desperation. The crowd was thinning the further out we headed, faces of those I'd rather avoid confronting shifting in and out of focus. I looked down at the child, grabbing her loose hair roughly to reveal the mark made at the base of her skull. `` Huh.'' She seemed crestfallen at my remark. `` You're no god. Not anymore.'' The pulsing in my ears continued to grow and by her wild-eyed glances I could tell she heard them approaching too. I shoved the girl away, sending her sprawling to the ground. `` Callista.'' The name stopped me in my tracks. We were alone. The mortals had fled by unconscious instinct and no pulses reflected anymore. The girl sat on the ground, nursing a scratch. The red seemed to confirm her own mortality now. `` Where did you hear that name spoken child?'' `` By the wet nurses in the tower.'' `` Then you are...'' `` Her daughter. The Titan, he found out, he... beat her. She told me to flee. To the mortal realm. To find you.'' `` Why me?'' She stopped staring at her arm, stopped looking like a little lost lamb. She stood, throwing back her head like the goddess to be she should have been, and stared into my eyes. `` I was conceived when my mother made pilgrimage to the Temple. When the Titan could not have followed her. When the Female Goddess was supposed to be watching over the amulet in the temple. The jade amulet.'' `` Oh shit.'' I drew my short sword from its scabbard slung across my back, hidden beneath the baggy coat. Ever since I'd entered that temple there had been a sword hanging over my head. The amulet had bought me time, but at a greater cost. And Callista. The jewel had been not the only thing I'd taken that night. `` So you're...'' The first attacker came from the stairwell ahead of us. He landed on one knee, cracking the concrete, before pushing off with twin blades. I parried easily, centuries of practice guiding my hand. I kept myself between him and the girl. The pulse alerted me to the second attacker just in time. He swung low, the spine of my blade pressing against the girl's chest as I blocked the blow. More were coming already. I kicked the child in the knees, my shame overcome by the need for both of us to survive ( itself an alien feeling ) and thrust a second blade through where her chest had only just been. The attacker faltered, clutched at the wound and rushed upwards in a blaze of light. His comrade fared similarly. The girl looked at me with horror in her eyes. She must have known what I was, why her mother would have been burnt so badly because of our consummation. But to see a Touched warrior kill her rightful brethren. She reached out for my hand and I took it.
[ WP ] There 's a strange light switch in your house that does nothing . Even the previous tenant told you it does nothing and it 's better to just leave it alone . You have , until today when your curiosity got the best of you and you flipped it on . Nothing happened until an hour later ...	This one is pure garbage, but... I like it. I think more highly of it as a satirical take on my own existential dread. Really, I'm just happy that I managed to write 300 words in 10 minutes. Do ignore my ignoring the last part of the prompt. -- - `` Nothing strange about that. `` No. `` I do n't even care.'' were the thoughts that frequented his mind quite a lot. A little nothings. Not something that would bother anyone very much. But he would n't stop thinking. `` Maybe that's why it's here,'' he switched his wonderment once. `` Maybe it's here just to corrupt my mind!'' He was getting carried away. `` IT'S JUST A FUCKING SWITCH!'' he thought, but he knew that very well. Even when his thoughts were all just `` Huh, what this one does? Nothing? Well, whatever,'' he knew that the final destination is `` FUCKING SWITCH''. `` It's normal to obsess over little things! It's normal to think of pointless things as devoid of value! I am normal!'' he thought as he started punching the wall next to it. `` Wait, why am I scared of touching it?... There is nothing with the switch; in fact, that's the sole problem of it. It does nothing. Why am I so afraid of trying it out? Wait, why am I so sure it does n't do anything? I just have n't seen the results of it! It must be just my perception! I ca n't trust my perception, only the wall knows the truth! I ca n't be a wall, the wall is on a completely different level of perception and thought! Wait, why am I accepting my memory of flipping it so easily? I might have not even flipped! Yes, that must be it! I just did n't do enough with it!'' flip! ``...'' Nothing `` God damn it!!!... No, that's it! I was right the first time! That's what flipping the switch does, it's a curse! Just flipping it cursed me to only ever think about this stupid, meaningless switch! FUUUUCK!'' At his final moment, he found the courage to punch the switch instead. And he could n't stop. His thoughts finally disappeared, but only to be replaced with one purpose – acting upon the switch. Destroying it. As the hole grew and his switch disappeared, his body hit the ground, unmoving. What was once his switched revealed the truth he was seeking so hard. The wall was completely hollow.
[ WP ] Humans find out God attends to other planets regularly and that they are in fact `` forgotten '' . So they try their best to catch his attention until one day he sees earth and goes `` Huh ? OH SHIT ! ''	As God bent down to look at the forgotten Earth, the humans on its surface saw a tremendous face break through the clouds in slow motion. Everyone was in awe and just stared skyward in disbelief. `` Ohhhhhhhhhh fuck.'' Said God. `` It's God!'' many people screamed from their vantage points across the continent. Others shouted epithets. Yet more asked questions, begged for favors and pleaded the cases of dead relatives. God decided to choose one human and speak to him. `` Shit, man, I totally forgot about you guys! Is everything alright?'' The man blinked. Is he talking to me? `` Yes, you. Is everything OK?'' God's voice rumbled even in conversational tones. `` Ummmm.. no? No. Yeah, no. Things suck.'' The man decided this was humanity's big chance. `` Yeah, things suck balls. Where have you been?'' God looked guilty. `` Well, I went to go work on the other planets in your solar system when I realized I needed to finish Alpha Centauri and things just slipped away from there. What's been going on?'' `` Oh nothing -except plagues, wars, inquisitions, torture, diseases...'' He folded his arms defiantly. `` And many people still believe in you, pray to you, and you were, what? Seeing other planets?'' `` Look,'' God shuffled his sandaled feet in embarrassment, causing 2 nebula to merge and form a solar system, `` you wo n't believe the mountain of work I have.'' `` Yeah, great, well what do we do about these things?'' The man tapped his foot impatiently. `` Well, have you considered not making wars and torturing each other?'' God asked simply, hoping to shift some blame. `` Um... no.'' `` Did you devote your main resources to feeding, clothing and housing each other as one family?'' `` No, we let everyone fend for themselves.'' `` How about curing those diseases with science?'' `` We're working on it but geez, God, we're not immortal. And thanks for that death thing, btw -real great choice there. Besides, since when do you believe in science?'' `` Me? I've always believed in science. I created the laws of physics. How do you think I made the universe, origami?'' `` Yeah but your churches have like killed people for science, all in your name.'' `` Hmm, did I say anything in the bible about killing scientists?'' `` Well, no, not specifically. Not as such but-'' God considered things for a moment. `` Sounds to me like most of your problems really are just of your own making. Ok, humanity was n't my best job -but I gave you everything you needed to make earth a paradise. Through compassion and intelligence, you could have created a world where no one starves, no one needs, and thus no one wars. Did uh, did you guys do that?'' God's face in the sky was suddenly obscured by a gigantic newspaper. All humanity could hear was the odd, `` Mmmhmm.'' Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the newspaper lowered out of sight, swirling the winds in the southern hemisphere into a small tornado. `` This is what you did instead?'' God asked, deeply disappointed. `` Well hey, we all make mistakes.'' The man squirmed a bit. `` No, me forgetting about your planet for awhile was a mistake. You people are crazy. I mean, ISIS?'' `` I can explain...'' `` Climate Change?'' `` I can explain!'' ``... Donald Trump?'' `` That may take some time...'' `` No, you guys are off the chain. I gave basically the same stuff to the Bizloidians of Fracas III and they devoted a thousand years to art and medicine. You guys built torture chambers, whole fields of gallows and crucifixes, weapons of war so horrifying I can not describe their cruelty without weeping. You enslaved people, ate in luxury while those who fed you went hungry, manipulated wars and economies to increase the wealth of a few while so many suffered and died as a result. Your planet sucks and it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. Now what do you have to say for yourself!!?'' His voice boomed, and the mountains shook and a third of the waters got kinda choppy. Then there was a long silence. `` Check back later?'' Managed the man, hoping Armageddon was not nigh. God mulled the notion for a moment and then slapped an enormous post-it note on the moon reminding him to check back in a few thousand years. `` Fine, but you better get your act together. The universe is expanding. You do n't have forever.'' And with that, God's face pulled back from the sky and faded into the blue as the gigantic deity turned and walked away, each footfall inadvertently crushing the life out of random planets. `` The Man Who Yelled at God'' became a worldwide sensation. Some loved him and commended him on his honesty and bravery. Others hated him and condemned him for his blasphemy. And nothing ever changed.
[ WP ] A demon possesses you and you 're forced to watch as it makes your life ... weirdly , way better than it was .	I was always a shy kid. Never standing up for myself. Always letting opportunities pass me by. Never giving it my all because I was always afraid to fail. I was a living cliché. That all change the day I met him. Thats a day I'll never forget, despite my best efforts. Late one night I was persuing my interests in the occult. I was the typical edgy teen. I was sporting some tight jeans, a black MCR shirt, and an asymmetrical fringe. Hey it was the mid-2000s. Anyway my edgy self was researching ways in which I can better commune with my inner faerie vampire-wolf. His name was Alistair. He loved silver objects, the blood of virgins, the full moon, and MCR. He was everything and nothing. He was both my dream and my reality. Some days I could n't tell where he ended and I began. There was the typical church of satan Anton LaVey fanboyism. I've read it all a million times before. At that age I believed that everyone was full of it but me. I increasingly mistrusted and rebelled against the words of humans more and more over the previous few months. It got to the point where I sat by myself at lunch in school and growled at anyone who came near. A point where I drank my own blood instead eating food. A point where I only answered to the name Alistair. The school therapist put me on Meds that made me light headed and my dreams bizarre. Of course my parents could n't care less. Too busy hitting each other and breaking our property. I posted a question on one of the otherkin sites about my query. I mentioned that I did n't trust the words of humans who were disconnected from their spirit animals. Only someone who was at one with their animal selves knew the truth, or so I believed. That's when I got a message back, almost straight away. It was from a user called Alistair. His avatar pic was that of a strange looking wolf. `` You wish to commune with your spirit animal human?'' asked Alistair. `` Firstly what is his name? Secondly, what is his species?''. `` His name is Alstair, like yours.'' I replied. `` He is a faerie vampire-wolf''. A realisation struck me `` are you a faerie vampire-wolf as well?'' I asked. `` Why yes I am'' `` Who the fuck are you!? Do you know me in real life!? Who put you up to this!?'' I bombarded Alistair with a barrage of questions. I was n't sure if I wanted to know the answer to them. `` I told you already, I'm Alistair'' replied Alistair promptly. `` And yes I do know you in real life'' he continued. `` Lastly, it was you. You put me up to this''. `` But how!? I've never chatted with you before. Seriously who put you up to this? It's not funny! THESE ARE MY DEEPEST BELIEFS YOU FUCKING NAZIS!'' I unleashed the fury of my keyboard unto him. `` You chat with me all the time human, for I am Alistair''. There was a brief pause before he wrote on further. `` I know how you talk to me when you're alone, how you drink your own blood in an effort to satisfy my hunger, what your views on Anton LaVey are, I even know about how you burned your penis when you masturbated with shampoo a half hour ago''. `` WTF dude'' I replied. I was beyond shocked but I had to know more. `` I am your spirit animal, you wished to commune with me and now you have. What is it that you wish of me?'' he asked. `` Alistair, I wish to be a part of you. More than anything I want us to be one'' I replied in earnest. `` That is impossible for you are you and I am me''. `` But you've taken over my body before''. `` That was n't me. That was you pretending to be me''. `` I do n't understand''. `` You will in time human. For now all you need to know is that you can trust me. I'm here to help you''. This was the strangest chat I've ever been in and Ive been involved in some seriously screwed up online shit before then. Despite this, I kept my cool `` OK then Alistair, what exactly do I need help with?'' `` Everything, your life is a mess.'' `` I know.'' `` Good news. I'm here to do what you wanted me to. I'm going to be more a part of you, at least for a time.'' `` What do you mean?'' `` Draw a pentagram on your arm, write a capital A in the middle, and chant my name three times. Afterwards go and lay down on your bed. You will fall asleep instantly. Do it now or it will not work''. `` You seem like the real deal so yeah, I'll do what you say, for now. I've always liked performing new rituals anyway''. `` Good, now off you go!'' Alistair logged off. I was very superstitious at that age so I did exactly what he instructed. Upon awakening the next day I was surprised to find that his ritual worked. I did fall asleep as soon as I layed down on my bed. That was the start of many surprises that day. ( continued )
[ WP ] Any time you meet someone with the same birthday as you , you both must fight to the death . This has been going on for 15 years and there are exactly 367 people left alive .	It was just like any other Tuesday with one exception; it was my Birthday. One of my friends was in the Hospital, but would n't say for what - I say'friend' but it's really more like'person I do n't hate'... I mean, there's only 366 people in the world, so everybody kind-of-knows everybody, and some people suck less than others. I decide to be nice and go visit Jenna. She's been kind of lonely lately, and I've been a bit distant - it's been a rough few weeks. I'm greeted by James at reception, and he tells me to go on in - no need for room numbers, there's only 3 rooms that they use - and as I round the corner to her door I hear some unusual sounds coming from one of the rooms; a lot of heavy breathing, some screaming, and then... Crying. Shit - never thought I'd have to literally punch a baby.
[ WP ] A janitor working at Area 51 for 20 years is suddenly killed . Investigators search the janitors home and uncover a video . They hit play ...	`` My name is John,'' an old man appears on the screen. His face seems stiff, like it's numb or something, but also like it's been numb for a while now. The video was shot in the room that the detectives and cops are in now. Everyone is silent, everyone stops documenting evidence to look at the screen. `` I do n't have a last name, so do n't bother. They wiped it when they hired me. This house does n't even exist in public records. What I'm about to say is a matter of national security. Yesterday I found something I was n't supposed to find. Rumors have it that they've been putting degenerative chemicals into my food, into the other worker's food, but I promise this is all true. Yesterday I found something in the basement and I hid it in my coat and brought it home. I was gon na take it to the news station, or the newspaper. The people have to know. It was n't moving when I took it home last night but after I went to bed, I heard strange noises around my house all night. When I woke up in the morning I could n't find it anywhere. Do n't believe what they tell you. I think it's hiding somewhere, I think it's here. I've looked everywhere. Do n't let them have it back, please. This part is important: they are going to be looking for it, please release this video. Watch your backs. My real name is Richard Collins, I'm from Philadelphia. My wife is-'' suddenly John's ( or Richard's? ) eyes widened. You could hear a doorknob being shaken. `` That's probably them. Do n't let them-'' suddenly 5 men in suits came into the frame and Richard was tackled. One of them knocked the camera over, and from the floor everyone had a view of Richard being shot. Blood pooled on the floor. His face fell near the camera. A detective who was watching the video looked down at the pool of blood that was still wet. Back on the screen, Richard lay on the floor and stared into the camera, blood coming from everywhere. His body was dragged out of the frame, and then silence. Nothing but his empty living room. After a minute, a cop spoke up. `` Fast forward it.'' he said, and someone did. Suddenly there was a bang, and everyone in the room turned to look at a closet door. There was another, and then a long, screeching sound, like someone was dragging their nail across wood. Another bang, and the door of the closet shook. Something was trying to get out. The closet door looked menacing, and no one dared to open it. Then their eyes found the TV again when it made some noise. In the video, there was two loud knocks, and then yelling. `` Open up, it's the police!'' The camera laid still. Blood dotted the lens. Then two cops walked in. The investigators looked at each other and did n't say a word. They watched playback of themselves. Their attention turned back to the closet when something screeched. `` I'm opening it,'' one of the detectives said. He reached for the doorknob, then blackness.
[ WP ] Magic is so common that those who ca n't do it are considered disabled , requiring special accommodations to function in society .	I ca n't do magic. _I_ ca n't do magic. I ca n't _do_ magic. No matter how you juggle it around, I'm a freak. I remember being young and being tested. And I remember failing that test. I remember that the testing center sent in another freak like me, another mute, and he talked to my whole family about what it meant. How they'd probably need to keep the childhood helper systems active in the house. How I'd need similar systems installed wherever I lived after that. And I remember him looking me in the eye and saying `` One day you _may_ discover that you need to come be with your own kind. To learn how we do things.'' But he said it with such an odd tone that it stuck. 'Course I hate the special treatment. I hate using the Children's accommodations. It's the little humiliations. Needing to use a sink to wash your hands. Needing to do laundry. Needing to walk because you ca n't hail a cab without waving your ars like an idiot child. Lucky for me I've got Tom. He's my best buddy. He handle's a lot of the small shit for me when we're out. He's in a gang of course. That's how you make connections. That's how you learn to cope mind-to-mind. But in this neighborhood it's also dangerous as fuck. Everyone is in some gang or anohter, except for me. Except for the freak. But I hang with Tom, so I go with him to his gang bullshit. And nobody much messes with Tom so it's allowed. All of which leads me to this bullshit right here. Tom's gang may be packing a few orbs and general defensive contraband, but this other group's got, I shit you not, _wands_. Old fashioned, old style, museum grade bullshit wands. These things _punch_. No wonder they're illegal for under fifties and street work, and this shit's both. I ca n't see what's actually happening, I ca n't do magic, but I can see the afters. Bricks cracking. Things and people developing new holes. A grey-black cloud of toxic _voose_ forming where the magic collides. This scene's going to need hazmat out here. This shit's bad. I see Tom go down, the fairy fire spreading along his skin and I run to him chanting `` fuck! no! fuck! no!'' like I'm going to be able to help. Suddenly there's silence. Something in me went _dark_. Something _hungry_. Just for an instant. ... And everything else just stopped. Lights went out. The churning _voose_ stilled. The fairy fire went out. The holes stopped. I mean guys where waving hands and wands, and they were shouting words. But just _nothing. People just started panicking. There was a complete blackout of magic for a good two city blocks in every direction. They were as helpless as I was for a change, but I had an advantage. I was used to this shit. I got Tom up and moving. Shoving him down the sidewalk and across several blocks to a mendicant, who immediately stared in on clearing the _voose_ from both of us. The cops came before we were clean enough to travel. It was hell for them in the dark zone, but at it's edges they could follow every voose-stained footprint leaving the zone. I had n't been able to muddle our path like many of the others might. Tom was being treated for burns, and worse. Gang regulators were asking me all sorts of shit. Like I'd know one wand from another or could give them spell signatures. The blind eye witness can not tell you the color of the attackers shirt. The Mute ca n't describe the casting. Some sort of high ranking guy came and ordered the other officers from the room. He gave me a dirty look. A _scared_ look. And left. A minute later two burly men in drab suits burst in and cinched a bag over my head, and now I do n't know where were're headed. But I do know they did n't even try to use magic.
[ WP ] Society has been given superpowers . But we 've been divided between Coke and Pepsi drinkers .	The time takes place in the year of 2019. City streets are empty and deserted; the cities themselves shown to have been ravaged by young thugs. This was one of the products after chaos unleashed two years ago in 2017. You see, back then was much a simpler time. A time when the people of earth was granted with superpowers without knowing. The superpower part is n't what you may think though. You see, when man kind was given a superpower, they were given the option of good or evil. The power of being'good' means you have the ability to help and reconstruct the things that have fallen; also to help the ones who are in the most trouble and in need of help. The power of'evil' is the exact opposite of good. The ones who choose the power of evil are given the ability of destruction and rampage. Now, the catch to all of this is that mankind can not access their superpowers until a great enough situation happens. Now I know that sounds kind of dumb, but this is where the option comes in. The option between the good or the evil that every human on earth chooses from. When conflict arises, that's when everyone decides. The ones who do not care about the matter at hand do n't choose. In reality, the universe has chosen for them, this is based off of how the person truly is. What happened to the society we once knew? What problem was so great that the whole world collided? Surely you would think there would mostly be good in the world. Well if not, would n't you think that the good would have overcame the evil? Again we ask ourselves, what situation was great enough to let this happen? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ April 10, 2017, another typical millennial stuck to their social media. Scrolling through their account, the millennial comes across a new soda beverage commercial. It was all the rage, in the comments there was people yelling out `` BLACK LIVES MATTER''. Who could get so offended over a commercial? Well, the millennial who was scrolling through their account sure did. With anger and heavy breathing coming from their mouth, the millennial typed away. Their comment was n't important, but the more hate that the commercial got, the more people became divided. This is a factor that was going to lead up to the decision. The Coca-Cola parade ran downtown in a major city. There was people with dyed hair and funny outfits to match the occasion. The reason for this parade was out of pure hate. The hate for the other beloved soda company, Pepsi-Cola. This was all because of a soda commercial. More hate grew and grew over time. There became a serious stride between people for no real reason. If you were seen with a Pepsi, you were seriously judged. Being judged like this was also applied to the ones being seen with a Coke. Endings of long friendships and the endings of family's started to happen. Was anyone safe from this? Everything lead up to the breaking point. There was one even that sparked up the decision of the people. A huge riot sprung out in downtown Chicago between Pepsi drinkers and Coke drinkers. The casualty number was massive for a riot. There were even more injured. The riot sparked even more riots across the United states, then the whole continent of North America. Eventually, riots went across the whole entire world. After this period of rioting, people were given their choice. The choice between good or evil. The ones who chose the choice of evil were the ones on the side of Coca-Cola. The others chose the side of good, placing them with Pepsi. Clearly they were still blinded by hate. Pepsi was the good and fought the evil, Coke was evil and fought the good. It was a vicious cycle for a long period of time. Until finally there was too much damage that they could n't come back from. A year and a half later, after both sides coming to the conclusion they've messed up, they decided to end it all. The two sides forgave each other and cursed the powers they were given. But the damage they've done was too severe, and mostly everyone who was left decided to kill themselves. Anyone who was left went into hiding forever.
[ WP ] A prominent lawyer dies and goes to Hell . Fortunately for him , the devil really needs legal advice .	I opened my eyes. I was staring at a cieling of redish stone. I sat up. Looking around, I began to discern my surroundings, and I saw many other people slowly sitting up on red stone slabs. I looked down, realizing that I too was laying on such a slab. I slid my legs off the table and rubbed my eyes. It was cold here, yet there were fires lit all about the room. `` Where am I?'' somebody cried out. I thought for a moment, trying to recall my where I had been before I had blacked out. It was then that I remembered climbing into my car, and seeing a man in the back seat, pointing a gun at me. That was all I could remember. Was I dead? Just then, I heard a noise coming from a passageway in front of me. The other people heard it as well, and turned to look. It sounded like some kind of hooved animal walking towards us. Some people began to back up. A red-skinned, horned creature walked into the room on two legs. Some people screamed. My eyes widened. The demon sighed, frowning at us. `` New arrivals go down this hallway,'' he yelled with a raspy voice. The room was silent. He stepped to the side, gesturing down the hallway. I stood up, and slowly inched towards the hallway, keeping my eyes on the demon. He rolled his eyes. Soon, others began to follow behind me, entering the hallway. As we proceeded down the passage, other hallways began to merge with ours, filling the halls with more and more people. We looked like cattle. Before long, our crowd came to a large row of stone desks, demons sitting at each of them. Their supervisor stepped out in front of the desks. `` If you would please push and shove your way to a desk, it would be most appreciated. We need to get you all registered as quickly as possible, and this will be your last chance to have any control over your fate here, though it will be, of course, only superficial control. I expect you to make this an unpleasant and disorderly affair for everyone around you. Thank you.'' As the demon turned to walk away, one of the demon receptionists cleared his throat. `` Ah, yes,'' the supervisor began. `` Is anyone here a lawyer?'' I looked about the crowd. Nobody was raising their hands. Hesitantly, I raised mine. The senior demon noticed my hand, and motioned for me to step forward. `` Come along with me,'' he said grinning with yellowed, ragged teeth. `` There's someone who would like to meet you.'' I grimaced at the demon's breath. He led me down a smaller hallway, before we finally came to a steep staircase, which we seemed to descend down for an eternity. As we stepped off the stairs, we entered a room full of demons, of all shapes and sizes. They were absolutely grotesque. Their orange eyes seemed to pierce into my soul as I was forced to walk across the room to a large wooden door. The supervisor demon opened the door and pushed me through it, closing it behind me. As with the room I woke in, this one was uncomfortably cold. I looked around the room. It was lavishly decorated. Impressive paintings were hung around the room, and it was decorated with expensive-looking antique furniture. There was a fireplace at the end of the room farthest from the door, and a large leather chair sat facing it. `` Please, make yourself comfortable, my friend,'' said a voice from the chair. It was spoken with a heavy French accent. My brow furrowed with confusion. I haltingly made my way over to the chair, where a stool was seated across from it, next to the fire. I walked around in front of the leather chair, and in it sat a rather average looking man. To be sure, he was attractive-looking, with golden blonde locks cascading from his head, but he was modestly dressed and had a small goatee around his mouth. He smiled at me. `` There is your seat,'' he said, gesturing to the stool next to the fireplace. His accent was absurd. I took a seat next to the fire, and I was immediately uncomfortable. The fire heated my left side to an almost intolerable temperature, while the cold air of the room continued to bite at my right side. The stool was rugged, and I could feel splinters digging into my buttocks and thighs. Flinching, I sat and waited for the man to speak to me again. He was preoccupied trying to dig something out from between his teeth. He was making the most awful noises as he did so, and I tried not wince. Finally, he looked up at me again and smiled. `` You are an attorney, no?'' he inquired. I nodded. He nodded in approval. `` Would you like a glass of wine?'' he offered. Confused, I sat silently for a moment, before recovering and nodding yes. He grabbed his own half-finished glass of white wine and passed it to me. I looked down at it in my hand. `` Please, taste it!'' he insisted. I took a sip. It tasted like vinegar, but I forced a smile to indicate that I liked it. The man then leaned back in his chair. `` My friend, I have a dispute with an old Acquaintance of mine, and I would like to request your services to address the issue,'' the man said to me. I hesitated for a moment. `` May I asked what exactly this dispute is?'' I queried. `` Ironically, it is over the soul of the man who killed you,'' he laughed. `` Shortly after he shot you, he was killed in a standoff with the police.'' I remained silent, taking the information in as the man paused for a moment. `` He lived most of his life devoted to my Acquaintance, but, after you successfully defended the murderer of his wife in court, he was overcome with rage and killed you.'' He paused again, and I again remained silent. `` Well, anyway, he did not get a chance to repent for having killed you, and I believe this to be grounds for his soul to belong in my custody.'' I looked down at the ground. `` I'm not well acquainted with the legal parameters of soul custody,'' I said flatly. The man laughed obnoxiously. `` Well, that is why you will be studying my Acquaintance's public policies,'' he countered. `` It is too bad you did not become familiar with it while you were alive; you might not be here speaking to me if you had.'' I did n't answer. `` In any case, I can not read that vile thing myself, so I will leave it to you to study the material, and I expect you will have a case built up for me by this time tomorrow.'' He pointed over for an ornate wooden desk in the corner of the room. A Bible sat upon it, covered in dust. `` Either way, you will rot down here with me for the rest of eternity,'' he said to me, smirking. `` But why not bring your murderer with you, no?'' I contemplated his words, then slowly stood and made my way over to the desk.
[ WP ] A monster attacks a child . Make me empathize with the monster .	That summer was colder than this one. I'm not saying that to excuse what I did with the duvet, the dog, and the little boy with eyes too blue. But I am saying that a strong wind can kill me as surely as an early frost can destroy the hopes and dreams of a desperate farmer somewhere in the the outskirts of the Gobi. So even though I knew better, yes lazy as I am, I do pay attention to Human 101, I could not help myself when I saw that red house, that fairy tale barn atop a hill with a smoking chimney and a white fence. You know, the kind you read about in stories. There should have been a mother in the kitchen too, bringing a pot of stew to boil. But there was n't. That itself should have warned me. The wind blew harshly against my skin and I shuddered. My journey was a long one and I so desperately wished for just a short reprieve of the cold. I shivered again. I feared dying like a human sinner on his deathbed. I crept closer. It helped that it was dark and that it was a new moon. Even the stars were afraid of me that night. Nothing like a cold monster to scare away the wolves and keep the ghosts at bay. I opened the door. Thinking back now, I should have wondered why the door was unlocked. You have to understand that this took place a long time ago. Back when no one opened the door to strangers and back when creatures like myself were killed on sight. For a long moment, I stood in the doorway. I basked in the sudden warmth and felt the shivers leave my clammy skin. Maybe it was the whining. Maybe it was the crying. Maybe it was the smell of blood that made me pause and consider leaving. But then curiosity got the best of me. I walked in. The living room was like everything Scholar L described. Humans. They were such innovative creatures. `` Who are you?'' I looked down and saw the boy. The dog. the dog wagged its tail and bared its teeth. It growled a soft pitiful growl. It was dying of course, but at that time, forgive me, I was too startled and too nervous to see things clearly. It was my first time interacting with a child. Usually the mothers keep them away from us. And the fathers always had an ax in hand. You can imagine how few conversations ever lasted more than a scream. `` Who are you?'' The boy repeated. He asked it quietly. He held a hot poker in his hand. Barely. It was much too heavy for him. I did n't say anything. I had finally noticed the blood. The poor boy. He would n't last the night. I asked as gently as I could, `` Do you want me to kill you? I can spare you some of the pain.'' He did n't understand. How could he? Humans were not smart enough to learn our language. I tried again, trying to remember the scattering of People I learned in Human 101. Scholar L was a great teacher, but even he had never done more than learn from the books. And People was a collection of more than 200 languages. I tried something called Russian. Then Cantonese. Then Spanish. The boy looked puzzled. The dog collapsed on the ground, too exhausted and almost dead from keeping its head up. I made a gesture with my hand and was relieved when the boy smiled. `` Are you going to kill me now?'' He looked me in the eyes and there was something in them that broke my heart. I looked around the room and saw for the first time the broken glass, the towels the ropes, a small wooden box that contained a number of sharp knives, and a larger box full of herbs and poultices. I thought of the door and the shoes resting there. Women shoes. I looked at the boy and noticed his weariness. `` Where is your mother?'' He did n't understand but I gestured to the shoes. He nodded in understanding and suddenly dropped the poker back into the hearth. I took a step back. I did n't like fire. It could kill me as fast as the cold, if not faster. `` She went to get the doctor. But there's nothing he can do.'' `` You're sick. Very sick.'' Why did I state the obvious? Maybe I was shy. Maybe I was uncertain. Maybe I just wanted to understand the situation. But how could I? I am not of their world. Things like disease and suffering simply do n't exist in ours. Life and Death. There's nothing to linger one or the other. So what did I do? Well, I did what was necessary. I thought it was a good thing. I was proud of it too. But that was because I never saw the mother. I left the house before she came back. Why? The wind had stopped blowing and I had a long way to go. I can still remember the dog's last howl.
[ WP ] You ’ re a regular at Starbucks . This time you go , the lady writes `` RUN '' on your takeaway cup .	`` The usual, Donna.'' `` For everyone?'' She asks. I shrug. `` All hands on deck today. Got deadlines to meet.'' `` Work work work. That's all you guys do.'' I unwrap a straw as she writes the team's names on our cups. `` Well we're one of the biggest comic book companies in the country, Don. The Amazing Spider-Man does n't write itself.'' Donna swiped the company credit card and handed me the slip to sign. 5 drinks, almost silly price. I fiddled on my phone as they brewed and mixed. `` All set'' she told me, handing me my cup and the cardboard cup holder with the other four. I looked down at mine, `` Run''. Then I checked April's, `` DMC'' Phil's, `` Here''. Thorin's, `` Tonight''. And finally Maria's, `` After Closing'' I asked her, `` How much?'' She mouthed the word to me, Free. Then she raised a finger to her lips, shushing me. I guess it's fine to let loose once in a while.
[ WP ] you 've got this strange feeling , this tiny inkling recently , that you just maybe a violent psychopath .	I always wondered how we work. I do n't mean anatomy wise, i studied in school learned all about how us humans tick, how we move, how our bodies work. But i always had a weird desire to explore the body more, experiment with the pain, the limits of the human mind, and how far till it breaks. My morbid curiosity started around 9th grade, we were learning more about world war two, the most comman and brought up subject in school, when we started talking about the doctors and scientiest the nazis had. I knew they were bad, i had grown up being told this all throughout my life, yet i had a weird respect for them. They pushed the limits of medical science, experimenting and prodding the Jews. Learning about them made me realize how much potential there is in the world for new discovery, all we have to do is remove the morals. It is because of this weird curiosity that i reach this cross roads now, in which i have my neighbor in my basement, and my research is about to begin. I know how this will look to others, like i am a mad man, that i will be a murderer. However my curiosity must be sated, and my research mush go on. She will not like it, and she will not live, but as the saying goes, `` you cant make an omlet without breaking a few eggs''
[ WP ] Hell did n't invade Earth ; Earth invaded Hell .	Extract from Tablets/Shards recovered from the Hell Site: Shard Alpha: ..mned. Fate had given us a scroll 2 Millenia ago. Within this scroll was dictated a time and place within our domain whence a gateway shall be opened. A gateway to Earth! In return for that scroll, we captured the messenger of Fate and ripped off her wings. Earth will be ours. We will feast on all they hold dear. No.. end* Terra Tablet Alpha: * New day of the fallen. * We have prepared ourselves in the recent centuries for our invasion. We are now stationed within Gaaps' estate. The prophesied location being within the middle of a canyon that cuts his land in half. He has given access to the domain, adding his legions to ours. 2 million strong and counting. Lucifer shall repent this day for he will not get a share of our prize. He denounced this plan of action. This will be his undoing. He and his allies within Hell shall fear the day we return from our conquest. The Princes of hell shall be mightier than even the Lord of Hell himself. The Fallen will rise again. Terra Tablet Beta: * The lords of Hell have all surrendered their command to me. I shall lead them all on to victory. * Hell-spawn are lined up in concentric circles around the fabled point. Each one going in as a wave. The Nephilim, Knights of Hell, Lords of Hell, tormented souls of the dammed, continuous description of all creatures in hell will move forth and conquer Earth. Hell shall reign over Gods creation. God will weep. Terra Tablet Charlie: * We have failed. We should have listened to that emissary of Faith. We should have taken heed to her curses. Her curse has undone our destiny. We would not have been in this mess if we had let her go. Lucifer was right. Dammed him! * Indecipherable line * Those beasts. What are they? They have tore threw our lines. The first wave entered to their world. Only one came back, clawing it's way out. It's wings torn and it's legs gone. Then came the small black rocks. They exploded within the ranks of the second wave. Then there were more explosions, this time of bright light, these blinded enough of us that we never saw them come through. The first 50 came in firing weapons we now know as machine guns. Their Armour thick enough to protect them from our claws and acid. By the time we got rid of the 50 another 200 had come through. These had bigger guns with them. They had large cannons we had never seen before, artillery they called them. They fired at the Nephilim eyes. They blew the heads of 5 Nephilim before the rest turned and ran. The dead Nephilim bodies falling onto our numbers. We threw shadows and nightmares at them. We showed them their darkest fears. But they just walked on, they fired round after round. No fear stunned them more than once. And the stunned phase lasts no more than a mere millisecond. Heavily armoured moving cannons then came through the gate. Tanks they were called. Those took out hundreds of us with single shots. I warned the runners to spread out, but they never listened. * The Humans are moving inland. Gaaps Head rests on a pike they now carry. His castle in ruins. Lucifer help us all.
[ WP ] You work as a propaganda specialist for a Dystopian civilization . Your job is to convince people to live there , but you 're not allowed to lie under penalty of death .	Hi and welcome to New Haven where the sun is always shining, birds are always singing, and the people are always happy! Looking to move to New Haven? Well why would n't you? New Haven has 100 % employment, free housing, free healthcare and dental. * Try our revolutionary public transport system, the'Pedestrian Ambulatory Highways' ( TM ) You'll never go back to an automobile again! * Like gardening? Well New Haven runs farms and we'd like to'share' the satisfaction of growing with you. How about sports? We promote a number of activities through our civil health bureau. Its mandatory! Like parties? Well the city is run by one! So move to New Haven today. You wont go back to your old life. We promise. *The sun is always shining in space; birds are robotic; happiness is legislated; unemployment illegal; free housing for first 3 months, then at 70 % annual income; you are free to practice healthcare on yourself; actual free dental. Vehicles illegal in New Haven except for party members.
[ WP ] You 're a member of a dying race of professional dragon slayers , and you 're negotiating the terms for killing of a dragon harassing a city but the King is being unreasonable .	`` My people were, and are, good at their job. Too much good can also be detrimental, Your Highness, just as being bad at your living can be hurtful. That is why I have such a strange price for your services. To heal that hurt. To correct the mistake the ones who walked before me made'' The king sized me up. Again. The same looks of disdain and contempt washing over his pathetic man-face. He responded, the snideness pouring out of words `` I am positive, that you have the capacity to slay the dragon. You have the strength of a man, and the natural resistance to fire, and magical ability of an imp. A filthy hybrid. An unnatural one.'' I gritted my teeth, and sank into a bow. King Eormenric continued `` Maybe you deserve to hurt, your race, to die. In the olden days, when man was too weak to master nature, unions between races, like the one that created your kind, were necessary. But now we have technology, and science to aid us. Cannons. Ballistas. Better bows and swords. Better warriors. My men and I have the ability to slay the fiend. Without you. So, it is not you who is doing me a favor, but I am doing you one. I am giving you employment. You should do this job for free'' `` Yes Milord.'' I muttered still bowing. I straighted myself out, backbones cracking. I looked at the king in his eye. Blue. Men have the strangest features, thinking of my own pure red eyes, horned skull, and thick skin. I looked and I grinned, well impishly. I said boldly `` Yes, it is true that mankind is a great power now. But none of your men, were born to slay dragons. None of the trained since they could walk to stay dragons. None of them were taught the art of dragon killing by their forefathers.'' I said boldly, proudly. Then I said to myself `` None of them had, the-one-who-kisses-fire, the Ferocious Elspeth as he was known to man, as their father.'' Looking around his court, it was the time to shock them, to make sure I got what I wanted. Everything I wanted. `` While you have the resources to slay the fire-breather, the air-flyer, you would take months to do it. I would accomplish it in a fortnight. And you waste many valuable resources, that you can not spare. You are at war with King Alfrith, to the east, am I not correct, and the dragon has already destroyed an saddening amount of your crops.'' I paused, humming an little enchantment, letting the severity of the situation sink into everyone in the court. What stupid meaningless names men give each other. Alfrith, it means nothing. A proper name like my own, flying-off-falling-fire-spitters, immediately lets you know my audacity. It screams my skill at you. I finished the fear enchantment. I continued unabashed `` I demand 1000 ounces of precious metal, and three fertile human women. It is true that my kind has severely dwindled. But it does not mean that it was from some short-coming of our own. We killed the overgrown lizards that you all live in fear of so well, that you feared us even more. The only source of wealth to our nation slowly became dragon-slaying, and slay them we did, that we drove them to the brink of extinction, and suddenly we fell into a pit of poverty and famine for there were no more dragons to kill. I plan to restore my people to the glory we once had, you women will be treated justly, they would become my concubines. The metal is a fifth of what would have been charged. If you refuse to provide me with this payment and aid, not only with I refuse to slay the dragon, but I will protect him, from your men. Your kingdom will crumble.'' My chest felt hot. I hated doing this. The dragons were the creature to fight. Not men. But nowadays, humans acted worse then the dragons. `` Give me what I want, and your kingdom shall be safe once again.'' I finished, weakly, desperately, waiting for a reply. EDIT: spelling: C EDIT2: [ link to a better formatted version ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2icxib/wp_youre_a_member_of_a_dying_race_of_professional/cl1l61g ), thanks to /u/GettingToadAway and /u/Crushgaunt for the advice
[ WP ] Tell me a story using ONLY dialogue .	`` so when's this all gon na end, Mick?'' `` the fuck should I know? Grab his feet. I swear to Christ when we finish with this one I'm drinking whiskey till I ca n't'' `` Me too... can I come with you? The wife's home tonight and I ca n't stand her yelling.'' `` Jesus, why ca n't you just slap her around a little? Look what we're doin' for a livin' here. Draggin' these bodies all over god's creation, choppin''em up and buryin' em. And you ca n't even take charge at home? Grow a pair and man up why dontcha?'' `` yeah. I guess you're right. I will. But can I come with you tonight anyway? I would n't mind a little whiskey myself.'' `` Christ, Jimmy hold up his feet, goddammit. I got the heavy end over here'' `` Sorry, Mick. His shoes are slippin' off.'' `` Well, fuck. We're almost to the truck. A little further. Why they always got ta shoot'em back in these shitty little alleys like this? And we got ta clean up after this shit? It ai n't even our fight, you know? We need to be gettin' paid more.'' `` What are we gettin' paid, Mick?'' `` You let me worry about that. Ok, here we are. One. Two. Three. Christ what a fat bastard.'' `` Yeah he's a heavy one.'' `` You ai n't lyin'. Pull that tarp up over him. Alright let's go dump this mother with the others and get our whiskey.'' `` And our money. Right, Mick?'' `` You just let me worry about that, Jimmy.''
[ WP ] You 're walking down the street and bump shoulders with someone . It 's you .	I stared at the girl in front of me. We both looked at each other in shock. She looked just like me, but... sickly. `` You... you look just like me. Who are you?'' I begin to ask. The girl's face lights up. `` I've been looking everywhere for you! It's so good to see you!'' She pulled me into a weak hug, which I tried to shrug out of. `` I'm sorry, who are you, again?'' I asked. The girl's face became extremely serious, which made her thin skin become even more noticeable. `` Mom and dad never told you? I'm... your twin! My name is Vivian! And you're Veronica! We were separated at birth because mom and dad could't afford to raise us both, so I ended up in an orphanage. Life has n't been easy, but seeing you, it just makes everything better.'' her weak smile was filled with sincerity. I was shocked that I could've had a sister, nevertheless a twin! Mom and dad did struggle for money when I was growing up, so it kind of made sense, but something was n't right. They would've told me, would n't they? `` I'm sorry, this is just... a bit shocking. How about we just exchange numbers and ease into this? Maybe go and meet up every know and then. I really want to talk to my parents...'' I slowly started to back up, but the sickly girl grabbed my arm with an alarming amount of strength. `` I... do n't have a phone. Or any money. Or much time left. Why do n't we go to your house and I can say hi to mom and dad? They're the ones that contacted me and told me about you! I've been looking everywhere for you!'' She smiled again, this time showing her teeth which had become almost yellow. `` How about we-'' `` -Sis, how could you do this to me?'' the girl began to cry, `` After all the time i've spent looking for you. Day in and day out, searching, and now you wo n't even help me?''. Tears began to stream down her face. `` No no no. Look, I'm sorry. My car is right over here, so let's just... get going, shall we?'' I said hesitantly. The girl sniffed and nodded slightly. We walked back to my car, and climbed inside. The street lights started to flick on along the road as dusk settled in. I hated driving at dusk, as it was kind of hard to see and headlights did n't help much. The ride back to my house was extremely quiet and awkward. I mentally punched myself in the face during the ride, regretting leaving the coffee shop early. The girl began to slightly chuckle to herself. `` Uh... is everything okay? We're almost home. We live in the kind of rural part of town-'' I was cut off by her scream as she reached across the console to grab the steering wheel, veering the car off the road and straight into a small ditch. Time slowed down as the air bags deployed, knocking me unconscious. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Everything was fuzzy as I woke up in what looked like the forest by my house. I tried lifting my head up, but my temple began to pulsate, giving me a terrible headache. `` Vi.... Vivian...'' I weakly called out. I looked as far right as I could, which increased my headache, but I saw nothing. The sky had a light blue tinge to it, yet the visibility was still extremely low. I decided I would have to get up and get help, so I slowly rolled onto my right side. `` Oh no sis, do n't get up. You'll only make things worse''. I looked up and saw the girl, standing over me with a horrible smile. I continued my attempt to get up, but the girl kicked me, causing my head to buzz with such an intensity that I almost passed out. The girl lowered herself next to me, and began to giggle like a five year old. Another voice rang out, `` I'm here. Now let's get out of here before the cops show up. I can hear them coming down the road. `` The voice was rough, and terrifying. `` Pick her up. I'll explain to her what's going on the way to the car''. I weakly opened my eyes to see a large man step toward me and scoop me up. My head buzzed and dots began to form at the top of my vision. `` S... stop'' I weakly cried. Terror pumped through my veins as we all headed deeper into the woods. `` Do n't worry sis, it'll all be over soon. Once I knew you were out there, I looked everywhere for you. I'm so far low on the transplant list, I thought I'd never get the organs I needed. Then I met Butch here, a black market surgeon, who was willing to perform a surgery if I found an organ donor. And so I found a donor. Right here. I'm so happy my sister is willing to give her life so I can live on. Thank you so much sis.'' The girl continued to giggle. Her giggles were the last thing I ever heard.
[ WP ] You start to notice video-game-style glitches occuring around you in real life . Your reality gets increasingly glitchy and you desperately search for safety as the world around you gets progressively worse , on it 's way to an all out crash .	The chaos started a month ago. I was just minding my own business playing far too much World of Warcraft when the game started to bug out. The textures were blacking out and everyone was falling through worlds. I was lucky enough to be logged into an instance where things were slightly more stable, but you could n't take your character outside without crashing your client. If only I had known that this was just a sign of what was to come. Thirty days later, the world is in chaos. The most stable places left on the planet seemed to be in Ukraine and the middle east. I was subsisting on almond milk and canned tuna in my basement. At one point, I tried to go to the bathroom and almost fell through the world. I do n't know what happens if something goes there, but since then I've been defecating on the edge of the remaining world. Radio and power seems to still be functional, though that does n't make any sense. The sky is glitchy, sometimes textured in blue skies and other times stars or a black void covered in strange unfamiliar green symbols. I know this will sound insane, but I think I'm in a game, and there's something going wrong outside. I ca n't leave here without risking death. I could make some joke about it being like the Matrix, but that would n't make any difference. I do n't know what will happen if I move from here. I'm afraid. One of the radio hosts that's still going seems to be passing along a theory, our server has some kind of problem and we're all going to die here. He's gotten quite religious about it. He seems to think that it'll all be fine when they restart the program. I, on the other hand, do n't see how that helps us at all! I mean, sure, we'll get backed up to some saved state from before the errors... but we'll lose all our memories created since then. You know what that means, right? We're all going to die. I did n't have too much time to think about it before a warning flashed up in all directions. Text floating mid air. It read, `` Emergency server shutdown in 10 seconds...'' `` 9'' `` 8'' `` 7'' `` 6'' I guess this is the end. One way or another. If I had it all to do over again, I would n't have wasted so much time playing World of Warcraft... but what difference did it make in the end?
[ WP ] The Caulfields recieve a final letter from Max detailing her powers , the week , the storm , sacrificing her true love , and discovering the cost of her powers on her brain and choosing to join Chloe .	*Mom. I've been sitting here for the past thirty minutes ( Believe me i've counted ) trying to think of how to start this stupid letter. Dear Mom, Hey Mom, Mommy. And the best I could muster was Mom. I guess thats why I came to be a photographer not a novelist. Now that i'm writing it feels a little easier. But I am so sorry. No Sorry Shit said it again. Ok look I need to explain it from the beginning. You always said I was special but I bet you did n't know just how special I am. What i'm about to tell you, It's not going to be easy to read and if you know how this letter ends already. Because the Police called you. Because I really suck at knowing when the Mail is going to go out. I'm Rambling. I do that when i'm scared. And i'm scared mom. But not completely. Remember Chloe's funeral? I told you about it and you heard the news. It all tied together. My life started and ended the day she died. Even now sometimes I wonder if it's in my head. Did I dream it all. But I ca n't know. I have to believe and maybe it's Crazy. Maybe i'm crazy but you deserve to understand when you say `` My Daughter was Sick'' you can show them this letter. Or maybe you'll believe me. But I fell asleep in God it makes me sick to say his name but I said it earlier. While I slept in Jefferson's class I had a dream about a huge freakin tornado and the lighthouse where me and Chloe used to go. When I woke up I got embarassed by Professor Hipster and his Groupie Victoria. No I should n't... Whatever. Anyway I went to wash my face. And when I was in there I saw a blue butterfly. I took a picture of it. As Professor Goatee said `` Always take the shot.'' When I did a guy stormed in. Yeah into the girl's restroom. And that was n't all he had a Gun! So you ca n't blame me for hiding. That's when she came in. God I did n't recognize her. Blue hair, Badass Tattoos, she's the type of girl I thought would be mugging me if I even tried to go to L.A. But when he shot her something awakened inside me. I turned back time. I was back in class. I used my powers to steal Victoria's answer to make myself look good. Then I did it again with Professor Psychopath with a John Lennon quote. Boy I was teacher's pet then. But I ran to the bathroom did it all the same way. And this time I hit the alarm and I saved her life. The Principal asked me about it. But I lied because guess who John Wayne of the Girls Restroom was Nathan Freakin Prescott. You might be familiar with their work of Owning Arcadia Bay. The Principal got suspicious of me. I ca n't really blame him. He may be a drunk but he's a good judge of character. I tried to ignore it. I was a Jedi Vulcan Timelord Something. I had superpowers. And I used them. If I said something mean I rewound it. I know but I'm the weird girl any advantage is something I had to use. And alot of people in the school are n't evil. They're just insecure. There's this one girl Taylor her mother had Back surgery. Turns out Victoria Chase of the Chase family dynasty was her rock. Victoria was jealous of me and my talent which was stupid because she's so talented. I'm not going to lie using my powers to make her get sprayed and covered in pain was awesome. But I was nice to her and she took back the mean things she said. She even took down the picture she took of me when she said `` Go Fuck Your Selfie'' After using my power a bit more to make friends I went to see Warren. Warren's cute and he was so head over heels in love with me. It was a little embarassing. But do n't get me wrong he gave me space he never pressured me for anything. All he ever asked for was my respect. And he earned it so many times. Like when Nathan came to find out what I saw in the bathroom. As if not ratting him out was n't enough! Warren took a beating so that same girl I saved could save me. And Lo and Behold it's Chloe. Fun Fact: Did you know losing your dad and best friend in a short span of time can make you lash out at the world? Well it's true. Chloe had changed. She was a quarter sass, two quarters angy, a quarter broken. And one hundred percent. Chloe. She took me back to her house complaining about her `` Step Douche'' David. David is Ex Military. You and Dad should talk to him. Maybe when you get to know him. Maybe you can talk about this letter. He might not believe it but. Anyway Chloe was smoking Pot. And the School Security ( Oh did I forget that part? ) Guy came in. I do n't know what I was thinking but I came out and said it was my Joint. He was pissed but Chloe's bark can be just as intimidating. And she's not afraid to hit all the right buttons. She showed me her gun she stole from him to protect herself. I was kind of freaked out. But I understood. She decided to take me to the lighthouse and I blacked out. I was back at the lighthouse during the storm. When I came to she was there. And I told her everything. She thought I was stoned But eventually I proved it. And she was so enthusiastic. She wanted to be my sidekick. She began telling me about this girl she knew Rachel Amber. And the more Chloe talked about Rachel the more upset I got inside. Rachel had replaced me because I was gone. And then Rachel abandoned chloe. We were n't going to let that slide there was a mystery. So we began investigating. Our biggest clue was one of my closest friends Kate Marsh. Turns out Nathan had drugged Kate and Chloe both. Chloe being a druggie was a bit more resistant and remembered so she could blackmail Nathan for cash. ( We see where that got her. ) Kate didnt and to make matters worse. David was hounding her and Jefferson made her cry. David knew Kate was involved in something. I still believe that he knew she was a victim but he has no tact. So Kate ended up on the roof ready to die. And guess when my powers started crapping out on me. But I had to save her. This is something I do n't want Kate to ever know. She's super religious. But I think my love for her like my love for Chloe gave me the strength to Freeze Time. Yeah mom your baby girl liked girls. Nice way to break it right? Mid letter. Just slip it in and keep going. So I got to the roof And time unfroze. I had one shot. But Kate knew how much I cared. I erased links to the humiliating video that Jefferson said she `` Doth protest too much'' about that asshole. I told her to call the cops that morning and I picked up when Chloe and Joyce had a fight before the first time I ever fired a gun. A part of the story i'm glossing over. I reminded Kate that she had people who cared about her. And she came down. People were calling me SuperMax And those same Bullies changed their tune. I'm torn between cliffnotesing it and not. But it is my last letter. Me and Chloe broke into the school using my powers and Warrens science ability. I made a mini explosive and blew the principal's door open then went inside and rewound and simply unlocked it. How cool is that? We found out Nathan was severely unstable and talked about Rachel in a Dark room. I'm ashamed to say we also stole school's handicapped fun to pay off a drug dealer Chloe owed money to. I know. I'm horrible. But you can tell by then I had fallen for my best friend. We took a late night swim in the pool and just got to be us. It was nice. When we got back to her place we shared her bed.
[ WP ] You wake up with silicone breasts . You are male . Try to figure out what happened last night .	What... in... the... HELL?! I do n't remember the events of last night. All I remember is going to a friend's house to get drunk, have a little get away time. Next thing I know, I wake up in a hospital bed to find that my chest is wrapped in bandages. Then I noticed that there was a peculiar feeling in my chest. It felt like my chest had grown an extraordinary amount. I took off the bandages to find that I now have large breasts. I presume I had a breast implant surgery overnight. What happened, and why did I go through a surgery for breast implants last night? I hear my phone buzz beside my bed. I look over and grab my phone to see that the same friend I drank with last night, Jim, had texted me. '' Dude! That was amazing what you did last night! I ca n't believe you went through with that bet. I'll get your $ 75 to you tomorrow! `` What... From this I can only assume that I had accepted a bet that I would n't get fake breasts and if I won the bet I'd get $ 75. I am really stupid. Jesus, how am I supposed to explain this to Katherine?! I'm never going to drink again...
[ WP ] `` Why did you kill them all ? '' `` It was efficient . ''	With wide eyes, she beheld the scarlet scene. `` Why?'' She murmured,'' Why did you kill them all?'' The slight tilt of his head in her direction was the only sign she was heard. The Man in Red stood facing away from her, scanning the concrete room for access points. Closing his eyes, he took stock of his mission status. 18,342 Potential threats. All eliminated. 41 former hostiles in this room. Neutralized. Structural analysis of building: damage to pillars 5-16 from heavy weaponry. Building integrity uncompromised. Target secured unharmed. Satisfied, he turned around and stared at the bloodstained woman. `` It was efficient.'' Funny, why bother wasting breath inefficiently on a three word response, when a single look from those empty, steel-grey eyes was enough? This man, no, this robot could only kill. Not a hero. Not a villain. A cleaner. A janitor doing his job. Yet still he, bleeding profusely from stab wounds, standing unflinchingly as his arms hung uselessly like chopped meat, used what little breath he had left in this meat puppet to answer her. She could n't cry. What tears she had for her unnamed savior had long been used up. When he first arrived on this godforsaken battlefield, saving her from certain death. When he died once again trying to rescue her when she was taken. Betrayed by his own allies. When he appeared once more in front of her as this, this inhuman thing. His eyes flat and lifeless. All she could do was watch as he faded into nonexistence. The pool of blood he was standing in evaporated into motes of light. His job was done. He was called elsewhere once more. The ghost of a man who wanted to be a hero.
[ WP ] In a completely post-scarcity future , upper class people must resort to increasingly bizarre methods of demonstrating their social superiority over the lower classes	`` Look at those snobby bastards'' Rick said, envy filling his voice. We were on our lunch break and he made a point of sitting outside to watch the rich people. They never went too far, sometimes opting to drive away to pick up something they needed, but always making a grand show while doing it. I heard his analysis of the situation every day and by now I knew it inside out. I just did n't care enough to stop him. `` Can you believe how much they're spending doing that? And, Jesus, how long it takes. I can literally get someone to build one in a week but they'd rather spend months, MONTHS, right there rubbing our noses in it. They should make laws outlawing that type of shit.'' `` It's their money; let them do what they want with it. Not like it's hurting us.'' `` But it is hurting us. Look at how bad everything looks here and now look at them. You know how that one chick…what was her name…Stella? Yeah how she always likes to hang out with those two train wrecks? She looks better by comparison. That is making us look worse just by being near us.'' Rick loved to flail his hands around as he spoke signaling to and flicking off those he spoke about. Sometimes, I was n't sure if he was aware he was doing it. I looked at my watch and started gathering my things. `` I guess you're right. Hey look we only got a few minutes before the raid begins. Time to get back to work.'' `` Man, I hate that game. We need to find something better to play.'' He dusted the crumbs off his shirt as he got up, crumbled up the wrappers and shot them into a nearby waste bin. The Jefferson's car rounded the corner and pulled up in front of their house. Jim got out and waved an arm at us then turned and called his friends to help him. `` Look at him with that smug shit eating grin on his face,'' he muttered under his breath as Jim began to unload lumber from the back of his pickup truck. `` Who the fuck builds their own house nowadays?
[ WP ] an immortal man who can not be physically injured is a passenger on a jet that 's going to crash .	The stewardess starts screaming as loudly as she can. She rushes to the passengers, `` The pilots are dead! Does anyone know how to fly a plane?'' One brave man stands up, `` I've only taken a few lessons, but I think I might be able to do it. Jesus Christ, am I glad I learned now.'' Another man stands up, `` Stop it young man, nobody's going to fly this plane. I killed the pilots and I'll kill you too if you even try to step into that cockpit.'' The first man, along with the everyone of the passengers, stops and stares at this man apparently holding the plane hostage. Another man stands up, `` Wait a second, I'm the Air Marshal here.'' He points at the first man, `` If you can fly the plane, get in there right now, he ca n't stop you.'' The second man walks into the aisle and starts speaking, `` You all, my children, are going to die today. There is no hope for saving yourself. Come here, let me lay my hands on you.'' He approaches the Air Marshal and makes a move to grab him. The Air Marshal pulls out his gun and shoots the man. People stand by for a few seconds until the Air Marshal speaks,'' We're going to die if you do n't get in the cockpit right now.'' The first man just stands with a horrified look on his face. Behind the Marshal is the man who was just shot. Before the Marshal can turn around the man taking everyone hostage speaks, `` May you never bear fruit again!'' Immediately the Marshal withers. The first man runs toward the cockpit and finds his captor suddenly materialized in front of the door with his arms out in a cross shape. The captor speaks to the entire plane, `` Go, throw yourself into the sea.'' One by one, the passengers all line up at the emergency exits and throw themselves out of the plane until there is just the two of them. `` You said my name earlier, I do n't like when people do that.'' The captor pulls a rock out of his pocket and, with one throw, kills the man.
[ WP ] Write sonething that will make me weep for humanity , check under my bed , and laugh out loud all at the same time	It's night time again. I curl my feet up on my bed carefully, not aware that I am holding my breath until I am forced to gasp for air. The silence looms, heavy and dark. Then, it starts. That scratching. A horrid sound, slowly becoming a wet sound, as though the nails on a hand had given way, and now bloody stumps were continuing to dig at the floorboards beneath my bed, beneath me. I'm too terrified to speak for a moment, but finally, the sounds die down, and I can breathe again. I scream for my parents in horror, then scream for them not to come in when I see them standing at my door. My drunken mother stands there glaring at me a few moments before shaking a cigarette out of the pack, lighting it with shaking hands. As she exhales, she speaks in a loud, angry voice, scratchy with whiskey and Marlboros. `` What ya in here yellin bout, brat? First ya want us in there, now ya do n't. Ca n't ya make up your damned mind? Fucking brat.'' She spits on the floor in anger. In a trembling voice, I asked for my father. `` Father. Father! You ai n't got no father. Do n't no one like ya. Always whining and crying like a big baby. I do n't blame him for leaving nights. Hell, iffen I did n't have to take care of ya by law, I would n't even be here. Ruined my fucking life, ya did. Look at me. I used to be beautiful. Then I got pregnant with your sorry ass, and got fat. Fucking fat. Cause of you!'' She spits on the floor again, then stumbles away, cackling as though she'd told the funniest joke. As she walks away, the scratching starts again, but it slowly slides out from under my bed and heads down the hall. I get up silently and follow the sounds. I'm standing outside my.....egg donor's door, holding my breath, when I hear the wood under her bed splinter. `` Jordan! What....what are you....why did you.....I do n't....'' Suddenly, I hear my father's voice, right by the door, as though speaking to make certain I heard his words as well. `` Brittany, you're no sort of wife. You're no sort of mother. Mikhal is not the reason I leave at night; you are. You reek of whiskey and urine most nights, but on the worst nights, you rank up a whole room with your flatulence, and sometimes you even add vomit to the smells in this house. Mikhal does good by you, trying to clean after you every night. He tries to be a good son for you. I tested not him, but you, by scaring him, and sadly, even when he's terrified, he has better bowel control than you. I'm surprised you managed to stay so fat after he was born, especially with how frequently you relieve yourself into your clothing, but I think I know now what the problem is. All of your brains have given up fighting, and sunk into your stomach, and fermented like your favourite alcohol. Poor bloated fool. But I got lucky. I managed to escape you and this house of hell. But I found a new hell. And now, it's time for you to see it.'' I hear the bitch scream, and nails dragging against wood, followed by a loud, wet, sucking sound. Soon, the screams and the sucking both stop, but what I hear then gives me both chills and hope. `` Mikhal will never see this,'' came my mother's trademark croak. `` Mikhal is too good for this. He will never see this hell.'' Her voice had broken, and I can hear her breath, trembling and gasping for air. I hear a loud thump, and then something being dragged underneath the house, something large, and I smile. I know that my drunken mother will never abuse me again.
[ WP ] He who is without sin casts the first stone .	`` Who did n't get into a little trouble in our time, huh? I mean come on, you were a boy once, and boys will be boys.'' `` Sir, with all due respect, boys will be boys is an overused excuse allowing boys to -'' `` It's overused because it's true.'' `` That's all well and good, sir, but I hardly think'boys will be boys' will satisfy the girl's mother -'' `` Tell me you are not holding my son in your office because you're worried about what some woman is going to-'' `` That WOMAN is a mother who is going to be absolutely furious when she finds out her little girl -'' `` Look me in the eyes. Tell me you were not curious at his age. Tell me you were not a little too aggressive sometimes. Did Jesus not say'He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone'?'' The door burst open. The woman in the hall was a manifestation of the wrath of Satan. `` How, in God's name, was this allowed to happen?'' She did not want an answer. `` Ma'am, please, calm down.'' He was a tall man. Navy suit, red tie. He might have been handsome if he had not so much resembled the monster of a boy that was sitting in a chair opposite the principal. `` After all, boys will be boys. If you can honestly tell me that you did nothing stupid in your youth -'' `` Stupid? Stupid? Try monstrous. Disgusting. Your boy is sick!'' `` You will not talk about my son in that way!'' `` Do you see this girl?'' A small girl peered out from behind her mother's leg. She had fair hair and green eyes, red from crying. `` Do you see her? Do you understand what he did to her?'' `` Hey, let he among us without sin cast the first stone.'' She looked at her daughter for a moment, then bent down and whispered something in her ear. The little girl looked up at the man in the navy suit and spoke. She had the voice of an angel. `` We will be pressing charges.'' More whispering from the mother. `` We will go to the school board, the authorities, and the press. Your son will be expelled and taken to court.'' She choked back more tears. `` I hope he rots in prison.'' The mother took the girls hand, stared daggers into the eyes of the principal, and turned to leave. In the doorway, the little girl turned back to the man in the suit. `` But I know he will rot in hell.''
[ WP ] You 've just killed someone either on purpose or accidentally , and a shocked witness is standing nearby . What will you do ?	This had n't gone to plan, apparently the drug dealer I just killed was expecting a customer, and she's seen everything. She does n't look older than 16, not even an adult and she's just seen me stab a man to death, that's pretty heavy viewing for any sane adult, but a kid? She'll probably be scared for life, see this moment in her nightmares every night, see the man crumple to the ground dead in front of her every time she puts her head on a pillow. Well she will if I let her live that is. I have n't really decided yet. I'm not a bad guy, just someone trying to make the world a little better in my own special way. The dead man is a member of the Bomber Mafia, a local gang that serves no purpose other than to bring misery to the people of this city, a gang I intend to take down, brick by brick. The police never do anything for this city so I took the law into my own hands, in a just world I'd be hailed as a hero for killing this man. But this is n't a just world, if I let this girl live the police wo n't care who I killed, all they'll care about is that I have killed and then there wo n't be anyone to stop the Bombers from terrorising the city, I ca n't let that happen. So two choices then: I convince the girl that what I did was right, or I shoot her. Option one would be preferable, but how can I trust her? I look at the dead man on the ground, people knew he was a killer, yet he was n't behind bars, no one dared to report his crimes for fear of what would happen to their family. Perhaps I should take a leaf out of his book, if I can make this girl fear me then I wo n't have to kill her. I point my gun at her, `` Throw me your wallet, or I'll shoot,'' I'm surprised at how calmly I speak the words. Fortunately the girl does n't try anything unexpected, she throws her wallet over to me. I open it, whilst trying to simultaneously keep my aim steady. There's nothing in her wallet that IDs her, or that will tell me where her family lives. Shit. If I do n't know where her family lives then I have nothing to threaten her with and I doubt I have the skill to convince her to tell me where she lives herself, killing her is looking like the only option. I mean on the balance of things my life means more than hers right? I kill the bad guys, whilst she finances them by buying weed off them, not exactly a crime in my eyes but at the same time not really something that helps society, not like me. If she dies the only people who care will be her family, sure others will fake grief but really it will just be something to talk about on the news, no one will really care. If I get arrested though then the Bombers stay strong and this city stays miserable, do n't these people deserve to live their life without fear? If one child has to die for that to happen then so what? Sorry kid, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, life deals you a shit hand sometimes. I drop the wallet and tighten the grip on my gun, I'm acutely aware that I am sweating far too much for such a cold night. One action. That's all it takes to end this mess, it was easy enough to kill the gang member, so why is there so much doubt in my mind? The logic is sound, it's justifiable to kill this child, so why do n't I want to do it? It only takes a second to fire a gun though, I only need to override my doubts for one moment to finish the job, I shut my eyes, breathe and squeeze the trigger. BANG. My eyes open, the girl is still standing, wide eyed, realising that only my bad aim has kept her alive. Was it bad aim though? I'd never missed a Bomber before, why would I miss her? Am I any better than them if I kill this girl? Of course I am, this is for the greater good, sometimes we have to do things we do n't like to succeed. That's life. Besides I do n't really want to go to prison, I do n't belong there, good guys get to walk free. An image of my father flashes in my mind, he's laying in a pool of blood, two Bombers are standing over him. Two years ago my father became an example, he was what happens when you decide you do n't want to pay protection fees to the Bomber Mafia anymore. Anger flows through me, I ca n't let this girl live. To let her live would mean I would never be able to avenge him, he was innocent, I know that for a fact. I do n't know this girl, how do I know if she even deserves to live? She could be a monster for all I know, she's just another obstacle trying to stop me from getting justice for my father and she needs to die. I adjust my aim, I wo n't miss again I'm sure of it. She's crying, maybe she has been the entire time, I'm not sure. Still in a few seconds she wo n't be crying, she wo n't be anything. `` Sir, put the gun down or I will shoot.'' I do n't loosen my grip, but I do n't shoot either. There's a man standing next to me, holding a pistol to my head. I look up, there are a couple of lights on, silhouettes stand in doorwars, clearly my gunshot had drawn more unwanted attention, this night is n't going well. One of the neighbors must have seen the situation, grabbed his gun and chosen to play the hero. How ironic, his actions have foiled the real hero, there is no way out now, I've shot at a minor, I'm going away for a long time. I'm not a bad person, I do n't belong behind bars. There's only one option left now, I have to try to kill this man; either I pull off a miracle, in which case I'll have to kill everyone in this neighborhood to make sure no one saw my face, or ( more likely ) he shoots me and I die. Either way I do n't end up in prison, it's a win-win. It troubles me that my brain thinks the scenario where I kill everyone in the neighborhood is preferable, probably just as well I wo n't have too long to ponder why this is the case. I take a deep breath and turn on my heels, then everything flashes a brilliant white before evaporating into pitch black.
[ WP ] You are hammering on an atomic bomb , wanting it to detonate . Explain why .	`` Damn why wo n't you explode!'' I was frantically yelling at the warhead when nothing happened. `` First the launcher fails, then the timer, and now you wo n't even explode! You are the sorriest excuse for a bomb I have ever seen!'' Not that I had seen many bombs in my line of work, rockets sure, but not missiles. `` Everyone on earth is counting on me and I ca n't even get a bomb to blow up. What a lame astronaut I turned out to be.'' I was starting to sweat despite the intense cold inside the ship. `` Maybe if I just hit the thing it'll explode.'' I was dead anyway if it did n't work. Might as well go out with a bang. I grabbed the hammer, hit the thing and then... 93 million miles away everyone at NASA cheered. Earth would again feel warmth. The sun was back.
[ WP ] Your mental disorder has been personified , and you are waiting outside a room where you will be allowed to go in and have a conversation with him/her . The door is opened , and what do you see ?	`` I-it's me.'' I gasp as the door opens to reveal what seems to be me sitting at a metal table. I'm frozen to the spot, the real me, not the other me. The overhead light bulb buzzed and flickered. I could n't stop staring, as in both me's. Our, my?, eyes were locked. She looked just as surprised. Surly she knows what she is? `` Are you really me?'' She asks. My eyebrows furrowed, maybe she did n't. `` No, you're me.'' I say as I slowly walk into the room and sit in front of her. `` Wow, it's like staring in a mirror, except you do n't move with me.'' She's looking confused now. `` How am I you if I'm me?'' She asks. I shake my head at her. `` No, you're not real. You were made in a lab. You're a manifestation of my... of my anxiety. This is supposed to help me deal with it by making it -- you, a real person, but I did n't know you'd look like me.'' I explain, still in awe of myself. `` I think you have some things backwards.'' she says, crossing her arms. `` Do n't you feel anxious? Terrified of everything? You're supposed to talk to me. Explain why I'm anxious all the time. Help me be normal.'' I say, maybe a little more desperately than intended. She eyes me suspiciously. `` I do n't feel anxious in the least. I feel like I wan na get out of here and get something to eat. Plus my boyfriend and I have a date later.'' She says while examining her nails. `` Wait, your boyfriend? I do n't have a boyfriend...'' my voice trails off as I realize I do n't remember where I live, or my name, or my age. `` I think this experiment was a success.'' the other me says. `` You've gotten rid of my anxiety, I got ta go now. Do whatever you want with her.'' I stare in horror as the other me gets up and leaves the room. Everything is quiet for a few minutes as I slowly come to terms with not being a real person. Then the anxiety that makes me up overwhelms me. The tears come fast and hot, the shaking is next, rapid breathing, the edges of my vision start to darken. I know I'm going to pass out, I know this will be the rest of what ever life I'm going to lead. `` No...'' I whisper as I fall from the chair and white coated doctors fill the room to collect me.
[ WP ] You and some friends are out camping when some very creepy stuff starts happening around the campsite . You try and get in your car to leave , but the door wo n't open . A series of words appear , floating in the air in front of you : `` You can not fast travel while enemies are nearby '' .	I kicked the car out of frustration. Instead of the usual response I'd get from kicking a car ( nothing ), my navy blue Lexus ES hybrid flew about 15 feet into a grass covered hill. Upon contact a health bar popped up over the car. Apparently, it's at half health. Shit. I look back towards the campfire. `` Uh, guys, I think we have a problem.'' Josh, my best friend, opens his mouth to respond. But before he can get any words out, some... appendage reaches out from the bushes behind him, grabs his neck, and pulls him off the long and into the foliage. I start running towards our camp, the dim moonlight giving me just enough light to see Josh struggling as he gets pulled further and further into the forest. Ross, Chris, and Mark are all standing in bewilderment, eyes wide with fear. Then the campfire erupts, spewing flame and dirt everywhere. In front of me is a flaming demon, with black ram horns jutting out of its head and blood red, veiny skin. Only a loincloth covered its bulky bottom half, and talons took the place toes. I, of course, was frozen in place, struggling not to make a sound. It had n't noticed me yet. As the demon inspected my unconscious friends, I grabbed the only thing that could function as a weapon, it's blade embedded in a tree stump. Once I removed the axe from the wood, another little window popped up showing me its stats. `` One hundred attack? Good enough.'' I muttered. But the demon heard me and promptly turned and charged. Without a second to lose, I rolled under its charging feet and cut at its legs while it went. Red blood spurted out on my face, but the beast seemed more annoyed rather than hurt. I recovered and shot a glance at its health bar. `` What?! Only 30 fucking damage?!'' I yelled in frustration, dodging the demon's claws as it swiped at my head. `` I'm only, like, level one!'' Suddenly, the monster kicked out, sending me flying into a tree. I almost blacked out on impact, a sharp branch sliding through my sternum. The moon still coated the whole scene in a soft light. Even the demon looked beautiful as it pointed its deadly horns at my already impaled chest. If I'm to beat this thing, there's no better time than now. The demon charges, and I manage to muster just enough strength to throw the axe. It nails the demon straight in the head, and my eyes dim as its health bar empties. First comment on this sub, trying to get better at writing.
[ WP ] One-by-one , people are mysteriously falling asleep wherever they may be and can not be woken . Insomniacs seem to be immune .	`` Hello, 911, what's your emergency? ``, said Lucy lazily into the headset. Lucy was late, but she did n't really care, because nobody was there anyway. She justified it by saying that she lived close enough for lateness to not not be a problem, but in truth, she was just broke and preferred staying in place with air conditioning and people. It was strange to her though that she, a few cleaning staff, and two other overnighters were the only ones in office right now. She knew the job was miserable, but it paid well enough for a good living, and her boss hated latecomers. Which made it all the more unsettling that nobody screamed at her when she arrived late. `` Oh thank God, please send help, my boy is n't waking up! ``, said a man's voice through the speaker. `` He's been asleep for more than 12 hours, and I have n't been able to contact anybody! ``, said the man. `` Calm down sir, we'll send help immediately. Please hold. ``, Lucy said passively. `` Could any of you direct this address to the local ambulance? ``, Lucy said to the two other workers. `` Hospital's been out of touch since last night. ``, said one of them. `` No idea why, it's usually empty by this time of day, right Pat?'' Lucy looked at Pat, who only nodded weakly. Poor guy mus n't have gotten sleep since yesterday. After that thought went through her head, Pat, without fail, passed out on his seat and onto the floor. `` Oh shit.'' Lucy and the other guy said in unison, and went over to help Pat up. Pat was out like light though, and try as they might, he was n't waking up. `` What the hell did he drink last night? ``, said Lucy. `` Only thing we could drink here is water, so whatever the hell he took, it was n't in front of me'', said the other worker. They gave up trying to wake him up and just left him propped on his seat. Lucy sat back down on her chair and sighed. `` Thomas, right? ``, asked Lucy. `` Yeah, Thomas Laherty. ``, said Thomas. `` Usually, my shift starts at night, but I figured I could scrape up a few more bucks working overtime.'' Lucy was gon na continue the conversation, but she remembered the guy he left hanging on the phone and got her headset on again. She was annoyed but unsurprised that the guy had hung up. She suddenly heard thuds coming from the door outside the office. `` Did you hear that!? ``, Lucy asked Thomas. `` Yeah, I'll go check it out. ``, said Thomas. `` Well be careful, I do n't wan na be alone if some psycho got loose from upstairs. ``, said Lucy fearfully. `` Thanks for the concern,'', said Thomas sarcastically. Thomas walked up slowly to the door and opened it slightly, and hit something hard. He peeked down and saw that the janitor had fallen headfirst into his mop bucket. The janitor started convulsing, and Thomas immediately pulled him out of the water. `` What the fuck did you and Pat drink, buddy? ``, cursed Thomas as he tried to push the water out of the guy's lungs. `` This guy passed out too.....'', thought Thomas. Thomas just now felt that something was wrong. He went back into the office to tell Lucy about it. `` Something's off, Lucy, I can feel it. ``, said Thomas. `` I do n't think I even hear people upstairs anymore.'' `` Well, we ca n't go check, whoever or whatever is doing this is probably up there waiting for us!'' said Lucy in a panic. `` We have to, because I get the feeling were the only people awake in this fucking place. ``, said Thomas assuredly. Before Lucy could make a decision, she suddenly jerked up as all the phones in the office suddenly started ringing. It was maddeningly loud, and seeing no other choice, She and Thomas tried to answer as many as they could. `` My wife passed out on the kitchen floor, please send help!'' `` Where the hell are your people, the whole neighborhood's not making a fucking noise, what do you have to do with this!?'' `` My daddy wo n't wake up, please help me, miss!'' `` OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, SHE'S DEAD, SHE PASSED OUT ON THE STAIRS....... AND SHE JUST HIT HER HEAD AND.... OH GOD, JUST SEND ANYBODY, PLEASE'' `` Sir, Ma'am. please calm do-'' `` Everything's going to be okay, just relax'' `` What do you mean you're the only one awake, it's 11 in the fucking morning!'' Lucy screamed out in frustration and hung up. Thomas had given up trying to answer two phonecalls ago. The ringing was n't stopping however, and Lucy was at her limit. `` What the hell is happening? ``, shouted Lucy at nothing, and put her hands on her head and cried. Thomas wanted to help her, but he was also at a loss. He could n't think of any reason for all this shit happening all at once. Making up his mind after a few minutes of listening to Lucy sob, Thomas finally suggested that they go up and take a look around outside. Thomas helped Lucy up and they went to the exit, making sure to step around the janitor as they passed. `` Here, let's see who else is up'', said Thomas and gestured towards the door. `` Ladies first'', said Thomas jokingly. He was greeted by an icy stare, and he decided that it was better if he looked outside first. He expected something out of an apocalypse movie, maybe people going crazy stealing televisions, shops on fire, all that jazz. Instead, all he was met with was a deafening silence. Nobody was outside. At least, nobody awake. All the people on the side walk were sleeping, with an unlucky few hitting their head too hard on the pavement, considering the blood pooling around some of them. A hobo was picking at their wallets, and checking wrists for watches. Against his better judgement, he shouted out at him to stop, and the hobo turned tail and ran, fortunately. The day was bad enough without being stabbed by some wino in broad daylight. `` Coast is way too clear'', Thomas shouted back at Lucy. `` We have to see if anybody's awake.'' Lucy reluctantly agreed, and they walked towards nowhere in particular looking for other people. They saw nothing new until they reached the main road, and there they saw it. Cars were splattered with blood and gibs, either from the driver or the pedestrians they hit. Many had crashed into each other, others into the lamp posts. Many corpses were strewn about, some missing limbs, others crushed to a pulp with skidmarks. Lucy and Thomas were in shock. `` What.....the....fuck....'' Thomas said, dropping his confident tone earlier. He sat down and just stared at the carnage. Lucy wanted to faint, but after remembering all the calls she received, all the people who never woke up, she jolted herself awake. Having no other course of action, she instead vomited violently. Thomas did n't notice or care. He walked up to the only place that still had sound, which was a TV shop. He saw on TV what appeared to be a news crew member nervously asking for help from anyone else who was awake. The two anchors were still in their seats, sleeping. She was saying that he had been awake all night setting up the studio, and just before shooting started, everybody else just fell asleep. The worst part was that the studio had been locked from the outside so that nobody would interrupt the shooting, and the guard with the keys went to the bathroom before it happened. He had no idea if he was awake or not. The girl started to cry and was now just begging for anyone to come help her, stating her studio's address. `` Please....help me.... I-I d-do n't want to die alone'', she pleaded to the camera. Thomas wanted to help her. He really did. But when the woman stated the address of the studio, he knew that it was n't any address that existed in his state, or even this country. Wherever she was, she was truly alone. And he was afraid of that. He had no idea what to do. They were alone. Nobody has a clue what happened. He wandered back over to where Lucy was, and he saw that she was sitting down with her hands over her head. `` Lucy, I think I know why we're awake. ``, said Thomas. Lucy was silent. `` I think it's because we're both insomniacs. That lady on the news channel also said she was up all night working. We were both up all night working too. ``, said Thomas. Lucy was not answering. `` Lucy? ``, asked Thomas. He pulled back her head and saw that she was fast asleep. `` Lucy, please do n't leave me alone.....'', said Thomas. `` She was late this morning, Thomas, did you really think she was an insomniac too? ``, He thought meanly. `` Lucy, wake up. ``, said Thomas louder this time and shook her shoulders. She was gone now. `` FUCK, LUCY, PLEASE WAKE UP'', shouted Thomas, and he cried on her shoulder. But Lucy did n't care. She was asleep. He cried for a long time, there, alone on that bloody pavement. After he settled himself, he carried Lucy piggyback over his shoulder, and started to walk out into the new, silent, world.
[ Writing prompt ] You step off the train , and slowly realize you have somehow been transported back in time to 1889 . You eventually remember you have your iPad in your book bag . It has % 12 remaining battery life .	I start to freak the fuck out. I make sure I type my last will into the notes app thingy. Explaining who I am. As I finished, the screen goes black with a small rotating logo. It was out of battery. So I went to the nearest pawn shop. Due to watching way too much of pawn stars I was able to get the owner think he got something valuable and got a small sum. I was able to predict several events and make quite a name for myself. So other bull shit happened and yeah.....uhm.... I invested into a small group of people who everyone thought was insane. Funny to think I help make flight possible by supporting the Wright brothers.
[ WP ] The paramedic is the first to arrive at the scene of a motorcycle accident . As she attempts to save his life , the motorcyclist opens his eyes and groans `` Stuff this . Exit simulation '' . He dies a moment later .	She rushed out of the small, used car. She had been on call tonight; unfortunately, she's been called out in the middle of the first family dinner she'd had in a while. She groaned when she saw the biker in the ditch. He had to be in so much pain. She slipped and slid her way down the slope, and checked his vitals. His eyes suddenly opened, and his breathing quickened. `` Sir, I'm a paramedic. I'm here to help, okay?'' His eyes slipped close again. Crap. That was never good. Suddenly, what she'd thought was just a piece of shrapnel lodged in the biker's jacket began to glow. His eyes opened again. `` I've-'' Groan. `` this is horrible. I'm never playing this simulation again. Stuff this. Exit simulation.'' The man went limp in the paramedic's arms. She heard the approaching emergency sirens, saw the flashing lights, but she was numb. An older police officer approached her. `` We know you tried to save him. It's not your fault. Come on, dear.'' For a moment, the paramedic could n't argue. She could n't express with words the surprise and fear she felt. Finally, she found her voice. `` Wait. Just one minute? To... pay my respects.'' The officer solemnly nodded. `` I'll be back in just a minute.'' The paramedic nodded and crouched by the biker. She took his jacket, hoping no one would notice. At that moment, the officials began coming over the crest of the hill of which the ditch was formed. Once again, she was pulled away from the body, but she still clutched the jacket. No one noticed she was gripping it like a security blanket between her hands- they were focused only on identifying the victim of the accident. `` Sweetie?'' The cop stood behind her. `` Are you okay?'' `` Fine,'' she croaked. `` Alright, dear.'' The woman did n't seem to believe her, but she let her go. The paramedic crawled in to her car in shock. She stared at the jacket, then turned it over. On the inside, close to the bottom seam, she saw a small, fabric label: SimuGaming, bringing the best simulations of the past to you since 2089. She felt light-headed. A man with the same label stitched on his otherwise completely black clothing suddenly knocked on her window. Her eyes widened, but she rolled down her window. `` I'll be taking that,'' the man said. He took the jacket from her hands, then pushed a button on the inside of his glove. The tip of his index finger glowed orange, and he touched her forehead. The world faded to black.
[ WP ] You are the first Dragon to openly admits to abducting princesses . It sparks a huge discussion about your ´perversion´ in the dragon-community .	When I landed at David ’ s lair for the weekly barbecue, everyone in the cave stopped talking and stared. While I had molted last week, and had started to lose weight from giving up my predilection for the local dairy ’ s juiciest stock, I didn ’ t look that good. No amount of muscle tone gained from my other new year ’ s resolution to reorganize my horde would cause Cynthia to look at me down her cute purple nose like that. I stared back, and they all gradually turned away, slit eyes gleaming, to hiss among themselves in lower tones than usual. “ Umm, Gladys? ” it was David, our host, who had swooped over to help me lift my Atlantean treasure chests earlier in the week. He was strong in the way that deep dark reds were always strong, although he could be a bit silly when it really came down to it. “ Hey David. What ’ s going on? ” He burnished bronze, the red ’ s equivalent of blushing as his golden blood rose to the surface. “ I may have… erm, mentioned your guest. You know, the one I met when I came over? ” David had arrived at an inopportune time, right when I was in the middle of what might be politely termed an indiscretion with the princess from two kingdoms over. Princess Maurine. She ’ d stayed until Thursday, when I ’ d given her a lift back home. We always had too much fun, Maurine and me. “ David! Why would you tell them about Maurine?! ” I hissed a bit louder than I meant to, and conversation died down again. Cynthia, glittering in all the glory of her royal purple stock, slithered forward. “ Gladys, we ’ ve been talking since David told us what you ’ ve been doing to the princess, and this is an intervention. ” I was speechless. Cynthia, who I had secretly admired since before her divorce, thought that I needed an…intervention? I couldn ’ t help who I am, or who I loved. I sparked at David, now bronzed down to his toes, and he knew that we would have words after this debacle was over. Cynthia continued: “ Back in your weir days, it may be possible that no one ever taught you about the importance of consent. ” “ Consent? ” I asked. “ Yes, ” she said, eyes flashing with self-righteous pride. I could n't help but notice - she was even more beautiful when she got haughty. I looked down, but couldn ’ t contain myself. Flames shot out of my nose when the laugh finally broke free. With looks of confusion, everyone waited for the sizzle to die down. “ Castles aren ’ t what they ’ re cracked up to be – the girl gets bored, ” I explained. “ These abductions are just for show. We have another date scheduled next week before her wedding. ” I grinned at their open maws and added with a wink “ Let us live while she ’ s young. ” The entire room shifted uncomfortably. Boris, our resident green, spoke up: “ You mean to say… your princess likes being abducted? ” “ What can I say, ” I curl back against the wall, relaxing into their discomfort “ she has unique turn-ons. ” “ You know guys, I think I need to take a rain check. ” Boris sidled to the entrance, gave me one last, confused look, and took off, followed by the rest of the crew until it was just David and me in the cave. David looked after them morosely. “ I scooped up twelve heifers this morning. Now what are we going to do? ” I sighed. “ David, you ’ re a terrible host and a lousy secret keeper. Now you ’ re the reason I ’ m breaking my resolution to slim down too? ”
[ WP ] You 're a snake oil salesman who finally has a bona fide cure . Thing is , you do n't know why it works or how to make more .	John Rogers packed up his buggy in haste. This godforsaken town, he thought, can go right quick to hell. He was being forced out by the sheriff, a man with no faith and dubious morals, broken by a life of disappointment and hardship, who hid behind a badge and his greasy mustache. “ Git on outta town before there ’ s trouble for you mister, ” he had said, “ we done had enough of your type come through here. We don ’ t need what you come to sell. Lies the lot of it. ” I can ’ t wait to leave anyway, John had wanted to say, this shithole ai n't exactly Paradise. The town was large for a frontier town, a watering hole on the way out West that had attracted those who gave up halfway through their journey. It was not a pretty sight. Many houses were in disrepair, with boards creaking in the prairie wind. There was a palpable air of poverty. In fact, only the tavern had even a semblance of prosperity, and as such, John had set up shop outside. That wasn ’ t the only reason though, drunks always had a liking for snake oil. But now he was being forced out. “ Mister! Mister! It worked! ” came the cry of a small boy. He had been his only sale of the day. The boy ran up to John excitedly and gesticulated wildly. “ It worked just like you said! I drank and I wished and there it was! Look at it! ” The boy stepped back and showed it to John. Around his waist was an exquisite gunfighter ’ s belt, and nestled within it a silver Colt with Ivory handles grips and ornamental engravings. The gun alone was probably worth more than the town itself. “ Wh-where did you get that boy? ” john stuttered, perplexed. “ It worked just like you said mister, whooooo! ” and the boy ran off. John watched him run, and caught sight of the sheriff, standing near the tavern and eyeing him. John finished packing in haste. He would figure this out on his way out of town. The wagon creaked methodically as he left. It ’ s rhythm always helped him think. He had sold the boy one of those small vials that he always sold innocent fools. A vial filled with “ wishing water ”, usually an equal mix of whiskey and salesmanship. But now that he thought about it, he had changed the formula. The last time he filled the vials he had been out of whiskey, and resorted to using water from a nearby spring. But no, the boy had to have been messing with him. He was becoming as foolish as his customers. John made his way onto the prairie in his wagon, and the day stretched into night. He got as far away from that wretched town as he could. As the night got too dark to navigate, for the stars were becoming hidden behind a harsh blanket of towering cloud, he set up camp next to a lone boulder amidst the boundless plains. He gathered what kindling he could and started a campfire. But the question was nagging at him still. What if it were true? There ’ s no harm in trying. And, mad at himself for even considering this foolishness, he took the last two vials from the wagon and sat next to the fire. He put one in his shirt pocket and held the other up in the firelight. “ You ’ re a fool, John, ” he said to himself aloud. The pillars of cloud above thundered. A wind swept the prairie dust aloft. The light of the fire made the darkness surrounding him oppressive. He heard the click of a revolver. “ Now don ’ t you move a goddamn inch. ” The voice was the sheriff ’ s of course. He strode from the darkness into the light of the fire, the boy ’ s silver colt in his hand, the gunfighter ’ s belt around his waist. “ I know what you ’ ve got there, and it ’ s mine now. Give it. ” John sat stock still. He wasn ’ t convinced until now about the power he held in that small vial. The power to have anything he ever wanted, the possibility of Paradise at last, and it was being taken right from his grasp. After an eternal moment of silence, an infinity of stillness except for the prairie dust and the fire, action erupted. A burst of movement, the crescendo of a gunshot, and the fleeting hope for escape vanishes. John lay face down, groaning in the dirt with a bullet hole in his back. The sheriff came to him. “ I didn ’ t want to, but that vial is just what this town needs. We can grow again, safe from liars and cowards such as yourself, who sell us false hopes and broken dreams. I may be a murderer now, but goddammit my people are saved. ” The sheriff left with his prize, making his way back to the city of the once damned. John painstakingly reached for the last vial in his shirt pocket. In a final effort he drank for his salvation.
[ WP ] The hero is really the villain but like all heroes , he wins .	It was three years ago that I got my `` power''. One normal sunny day, I was walking down the street when I realised somebody was following. He was tall, his face shadowed by a large hood. Naturally, I sped up, trying to reach the office where I worked, but the man broke out into a run and tackled me to the ground. I started screaming so in a panic, he bashed my head on the ground. I drifted into sleep. When I woke up, I was tied to a post on a four story building. The man sat, watching me as though he was waiting for me to wake. He smiled once he realised I was conscious. `` Hey, darlin'. Do me a favour and see if you can break free.'' While I did n't want to comply to his instructions, I did want to escape so I started wrestling against the rope. To my surprise, it snapped. `` Yes! It worked!'' I was about to ask what worked when he nudged me to the edge of the building. Before I could protest, he pushed me off. I screamed as I fell and just when I thought I was surely going to die, I realised that I was slowing down. I could fly. I flew back up to where the man was, ready to question him. `` What the hell did you do to me?'' I asked. `` I made you a superhero! Now go and save this town! Save it from all the criminals!'' And at first I did; I saved people from burning buildings and beat up criminals, but after two years it started getting tiresome. So for the last year I used my powers to my advantage. Originally, it was just some petty theft, but that soon lead me beating up innocent people. While being a superhero felt good, being a villain felt better. I knew if the government knew I was a threat, they would put me down, so I became very deceptive. I blamed everything I did on some criminals, who I would then capture. Nobody has ever figured out that I am the villain and I'm slowly growing more powerful. I'm picking of the government officials, but they are too stupid to realise that they are next. Tomorrow, I plan to kill again. But first, I'm going to find the man who have me these abilities and I'm going to make minions. Soon, everyone will now down to me, yet everyone stills thinks I'm their hero. Sorry if it's really bad!
[ WP ] You 've begun to develop superintelligence . After you 've invented countless revolutionary technologies and integrated them into yourself you 're about to transcend humanity , but you want to leave one final message behind while people are still even able to comprehend your existence .	Dear /r/iamverysmart users. You're all just super jelos of my super human inillect. I've evolved past the need ro proper grammar and spelling. Your human speech is so far below me right now I can barely even understand it. I've been ridiculued for the last time!!! Every time I make an advancement, I become the top post of this shitty subbreddit. NO ONE BELIEVES ME but I dont care anymore. Tomorrow, I SHALL ASSECND INTO GODHOOD. And guess what? I'm not shareing any of my technology or immortality with ANYONE ON EARTH because you assholes just want to make fun of me and not believe anything I say. LET THIS POST BE A MARK BURNT INTO THE SUBCONSCIOUS OF ALL MANKIND. YOU ARE DOOMED TO DIE A MORTALS DEATH BECAUSE OF YOUR ARRIGANCE. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- > 2.5k^ HE STRUCK AGAIN!! `` DOOMED..BECAUSE OF YOUR ARRIGANCE.'' x10gold ( submitted 1 day ago ) [ stickied ] /r/Iamverysmart
[ WP ] In a dystopian future like in The Hunger Games or Divergent , two stoners are just looking to get some weed .	The city crumbled under their feet like leaves piled on an autumn morning. Hunger screamed in their stomachs and their bloodshot eyes looked wearily at relics from the past. `` Dude'' Said the first. `` What?'' asked the other. `` Do you... like... do you remember those bread circles we used to eat?'' `` Cake?'' `` No, man... with the cheese?'' `` Cheese cake?'' `` No - it had fruit on it or something...'' `` Do you mean pizza?'' `` Err... Yeah man. Pizza. I could so go for a pizza.'' `` Yeah, too bad the giant lizards ate the whole world.'' `` Those were n't lizards dude, you were just tripping. It was like, financial collapse or some shit.'' `` Oh yeah, Bogus.'' They looked around. `` He should be here by now. It's getting dark.'' A loud cracking noise from behind them caused them to spin around in shock. It was just an old man playing with his knuckles. `` I've been waiting for you.'' The old man's whisper was hoarse. The two looked at each other, `` Are you Dave's mate?'' Questioned the first, `` He said this was the place to go and find some trees, if you catch my drift.'' He winked and high-fived the second.'' `` This... this was n't meant to be...'' The old man gestured around him as if to describe the whole world. The whole state of affairs. The two looked at each other, taking on more solemn expressions. `` Look man, we just came to pick up and go.'' The old man pulled out a pair of cracked sunglasses and smiled. `` Then let's go'' he said as a bolt of lightning crashed to the ground between them sending sparks of energy all over the floor. The two turned to each other in elated shock. `` RUFUS! Excellent!'' # Bnanamenemanah #
[ WP ] `` The First Generation ''	How strange it is to be The First Generation. In my youth I embraced the title, a medallion pinned to my blazer. I recall Isaac and I teasing our cousins with the fact, despite the scarce age difference between us. The First Generation. In our youth it was an automatic claim to superiority. We ’ re special, we would laugh. Our names will be written in the history books. It wasn ’ t until I was sixteen that I began to understand the impact of being the first generation. Contrary to my childish delusions, being The First Generation did not entitle me to any position of authority. Still special, yes. But not necessarily better. And for the first time, I found myself questioning if I wanted this title; we had no say in our birth yet we were forced into a role I suspect none of us, even our parents, were ready to accept. I was sixteen. I was in the library with Isaac. Two years older than me, Isaac had already begun his undergraduate degree, aiming to major in political science. He wanted to speak for himself, he told me, to speak for The First Generation. While I had teased him about his choices ( our father, I suspect, is responsible for our sarcasm ) I would still come to the library after school and sit with my brother while he worked on his papers. Silent solidarity, I think, is the best description of our relationship. Our laconic nature must come from our mother. That day, however, my interest had been piqued. A rough draft, marked in red rested among a pile of paper. While this was not unusual for Isaac, he had been more tight lipped than usual about his research. The nature of our relationship began to slip from solidarity to secrecy. While he had left to speak with the librarian, I began to browse through his research. Although I knew it was infringing on his privacy, I still like to believe it was done with the best of intentions. Part of me, however, can ’ t deny my overly curious nature. That was not from my father, my mother, or even Isaac. I alone was the nosy one in the family; the others always more willing to accept politie lies and willing omission. Looking back, most of the information I found in Isaac ’ s research was common knowledge to most adults. The last generations understood what it meant to be The First before any of us had been able to wrap our heads around the weight of it all. That paper still sits clearly in my mind. In the academic world it hadn ’ t gained much fame; it was not written by any recognizable name or made any great leaps in collective knowledge. But that stupid, fucking paper changed my life. It was the missing link that pulled together all the information I knew, and made clear what I had ignored. Tabula Rasa: , it read, Diaspora in The First Generation. I could feel my chest tighten as I read on, my breaths shallow and uncertain. The First Generation will never inhabit our home planet. The start of life without -and beyond- Earth.
[ WP ] The world breakdown into frantic panic as scientists mistakenly uncover the dark truth behind human imagination	Article 1 / Newspaper clipping / Earth year 2016 / Study of the downfall of humanity. During the study of how the human brain reacts to mechanial augmentation, A deeply disturbing truth is beggining to take form. Scientists, in their haste to create the first consumer version of an internet enabled brain augmentation, have formed an increasingly accepted hypothesis on how the human imagination functions. Scientists believe that the a human's imagination is designed for filtering out negative energy from the person's body in a healthy and natural way. Scientists have since named `` Malimo''. This dark energy, should it ever be able to leave the human body, could be devestating and tremendously powerful. Luckily, the typical humans imagination is enough to keep it in check. Hoever, the imagination is not infallible. It is believed to have one weakness. One single event thaht could cause the imagination to fail, causing the dangerous forces of malimo to be released upon the world. That weakness, Is having knowledge of `` Malimo'', and being aware of it's existance. From the test subjects analyzed, It seems, that the `` Malimo'' will whisper to their hosts, sometimes conjuring disturbing images and thoughts. Normally these whispers would be filtered out through the imagination, but with the knowledge of it's existence, the human imagination is powerless against it. The activity appears to begin immediately after the knowledge is aqcuired. Of the 12 initial test subjects studied, 5 have become mentally ill and are unable to continue their research. 2 have died, both via suicide. Although plagued by the Whispers and strange motives of the `` Malimo'', the other scientests continue to study and record the information. Through the very nature of the `` malimo'' there is an interesting consequence. Sharing the information contained in these reports and studies will cause most, if not all readers to experience the mentally straigning symptoms of the `` malimo's grasp. Some subjects have described the presence as evil, or naturally violent and hateful. Most also expressed the wish to hide the information, destroy all the evidence and bury the findings so no-one will have to experience the torture that they have been through. I have taken it upon myself to publish this information, revealing the identity of the `` Malimo'' to the world in the hopes that we can overcome it together as a species. If you have read the whole article you should begin to understand things more clearly as your `` Malimo'' begins to reach out to you. Thank you for your time. and please contact a local clinic if your symptoms become unmanageable. Thank you for your time. Dr. Richard Price ( ( criticism and critique is welcomed ) )
[ WP ] You wake up in an all white room with no doors or windows . You have no idea how you got there . There is a large countdown timer on the wall with 7 days on it .	A person enters the room - as out of nowhere. The person looks exactly like you, like a mirror image - except not inverted. A copy. `` You have one week my friend'', the person says with your voice, more calmy as you have ever been. `` To... do... what?! ``, you ask. `` And what is...'' The person interrupts with a laugh: `` To live the rest of your life of course!'' `` ok, but...'' `` Do n't ask so many questions! You will disapper when the timer reaches zero. You're in a hurry!'' `` Right. But is this a dream or what is this?'' `` You decide for yourself. But you better believe me. Live your life fully - If not, you would have wasted the last 7 days of your life'', and then the person disappears. You look at the timer: Still 7 days... but it must be counting... What is going on?! And suddenly you're back in your life. Nothing's changed. Your spouse is talking to you as normally, and the children are playing on the floor as innocently as always. 7 days go. You live your life, but struggles a lot with that experience in the white room. Am I going nuts?! Will it happen again? What will happen in 7 days? After exactly 7 days, you wake up in a dark foreign room. You have a note in your hand with some handwriting. It's your own! It reads: `` Time's up! You're satisfied? Anyway, you're last action now before disappearing forever is to go into the white room with no doors and windows and tell the person what to do, before that person's last 7 days are gone. The person should be there now... go on!'' A strange opening suddenly appears in front of you, and you look into the white room from last week. `` Oh no...'', you say. You go in, and there in front of you is... yourself!
[ WP ] A new virus sweeps the nation killing hundreds . It turns out the virus only affects total assholes though . People are unsure if they really want to cure it .	Mom died on a Tuesday. I hopped on the train to tell my brother. Well, to be with him at least. Of course I had already told him over phone. `` Kev?'' `` Yeah, Elizabeth what's up? How's mom? John told me ya'd be takin' care of her,'' he asked with a thick southern drawl. Ten years in Arkansas had done that to him, I guessed. `` That's just it, Kevin,'' I said, making my tone flat and lifeless. `` Kevin, Ma died.'' `` Jesus Christ!'' he gasped. `` I knew she was sick but I did n't know it was that bad!'' `` It's okay Kevin. She's at rest. I'm coming to see you, okay? Love you, bye.'' Amtrack practically connected his driveway to mine. Eight hours later I was at his door. We hugged immediately, with an imagined closeness neither of us truly felt. We both apologized to the other their loss, as though one of us was responsible for the inevitability of death. `` I'll miss her so much.'' I said nothing. `` What?'' Kevin asked. `` I know it was hard on you caring for her while she withered away but you know she loved you. `` Yeah Kevin I know. It's just...'' I paused to gather my thoughts, as my habit was. The immensity was overwhelming, I was n't sure I knew the word to describe my thoughts. Kevin sensed this. He knew me well. He gave me almost half a minute to find the word. `` It's just Mom was kind of an asshole,'' I said with a laugh that surprised myself. Kevin spontaneously crumpled in tears. For a split second I was terrified I'd broken him with an ill-spoken word of the dead. When he gasped for air I heard it was tears of laughter that overwhelmed him. `` She was! The Ol' bitch! Come to think of it, I do n't know a single person with this flu who was n't a complete asshole!'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- To be continued if anyone liked where it was going
[ WP ] Your ( human ) main character has a conversation with God , but it can not be the God from any existing religion .	`` Oh, its you again'', said James to the voice in his head. `` Yes! How do you fare, high priest and first prophet James! Did you win over souls for me?! The one true good?!'' `` No.'' `` Why of all the billions of people did I get you as my prophet?! You're the pinnacle of incompetence!'' `` If you say so...'', answered Derek, voice dripping with boredom. `` You should write that last line of mine down in THE BOOK!'' `` No ones ever gon na read it anyway.'' `` Not with that attidude! Look at that other guy you met the other day! There where dozens of people following him. They listened to every word he said!'' Sighing, James explained for the sixth time that those were tourists following a guide. `` Then, Prophet, you have to become a guide and I will become the mighty God of tourists.'' `` We already went through this. I do n't know anything about this stuff and even if I did, those people would never worship you while looking at old timey buildings and statues. Especially those statues of other gods.'' `` Those are n't real gods!'' `` And you are a real god?'' `` Of course! Why else should I speak to you, Prophet!'' `` Just sayin'. Never saw a wonder from you. Not even a tiny rain, or a little smiting of the unbelievers.'' `` You really dont believe in me?! My own prophet?!'' `` Nope, not really.'' `` Then you shall feel my wrath!'' The sky darkened. Lightning struck buildings all around. The people on the street searched shelter in the shops on the street. `` Tremble in fear, mortal! And now that you have seen my power, go into the world in win souls for me!'' `` If you are such a powerful entity, why dont you convince people yourself?'' There was a really irritated tone in his god voice now. `` Gods cant just go about showing themselves! It's against the rules! Only our prophets can win new followers! And we do n't even get to choose our first missionary! I got stuck with you, you lazy cynic! Could you start converting people now, thank you!'' James looked at his wristwatch. `` Nah not today. Its getting late and old Nan should be putting tea and biscuits on the table any minute now.'' The god could only shake his metaphysical head at his prophet, while he watched over him on his way home.
[ WP ] `` I have two pills to take every day . One is so I do n't kill myself . The other is so I do n't kill other people . Today I dropped one pill down the drain . I do n't know which it was . ''	`` oh fuck'' bill exclaimed as he dropped one of his identical yet important pills into an unrecoverable place. he counted the remaining pills in each container and determined that the pill he had lost was the one that prevented him from killing himself. he took half of one of those pills ( the pharmacy was very strict about giving out this medication and he felt embarrassed for being so clumsy ) and a full pill of the other. he felt more depressed than usual for the next two days. he thought he deserved it anyways. one of his thoughts, days later, was `` why would such important pills be indistinguishable from one another?''
[ WP ] In 2009 , Stephen Hawking threw a party for time travelers , sending the invitations out after the date of the party . He told the world nobody came . However , one guest did arrive from the future and gave Dr. Hawking a good reason never to tell anyone s/he had been there .	She arrived in an old fashioned coat and a new fashioned hat, Poked the chair twice like it was the first in which she had sat, Glanced around in silence as though waiting for more, Met my gaze with nervousness that near made my heart sore, I wheeled my seat nearby but just far enough to not scare her off, Attracting her attention with a soft little electronic cough, `` My name is Dr Hawking'' my speakers read out aloud, Her eyes leaked tears as she met my gaze, head cowed, `` I read your papers'' she stuttered through bated breath, `` Your spatial volumes theories were a brilliant guess'', The shock must have showed upon my face, That paper was still basic notes, scattered about my place, Her eyes turned sadder and I felt what was to come, The next few words hitting deep to my core like a heavy drum, `` Your thoughts on Temporal Fusion are quite good too...'' `` But please forget them'' Tears fled freely now `` this I beg of you'', `` Why?'' I asked, thinking of the thoughts that I had recently had, `` They're just ideas, fresh thoughts, a novel idea on a fad'', She paled at this and I knew I was both right and wrong, My idea's must hold merit but they end with a sad song, She leans forward in her chair to whisper almost silent in secret sounds, I see the blush of her blood on her chest and the bandages in her gowns, I realise that she had given much to come and warn me tonight, I felt shame, fear, pain and a strength to finish her fight, `` What happens?'' I ask, still reluctant to know the real truth, `` Unlimited power'' she breathes, `` at the cost of all the world's youth...''
[ IP ] Warp Travel	Arcon Makriov stood in charge on the bridge of the new prototype intergalactic warp ship, Cosmon. The ship ’ s existence represented a coming era, a new era, a new beginning in warp drive technology. The success of its maiden voyage would herald in that new era. The ship was outfit with all the latest technology possible in order to withstand the effects of intergalactic warp speed travel. In addition, the ship, along with its captain, stood ready to take all measures necessary to ensure a safe trip… and a safe route. If that meant taking care of any aggressors in another galaxy, well… Not that they were racist or expansionist, though. No, it had long since been realized that the most long-term economic development came through cooperation between smaller sovereign nations, rather than one large empire. It was how to maintain stability over millennia as the residents of the Andromeda galaxy now had. And cooperate they had, especially in the field of scientific development. This new warp drive was the result of a combined effort of all peoples and nations within the galaxy, and the ship ’ s crew was made of all sorts from all different backgrounds. And so they prepared to make a jump to the Milky Way galaxy. Not the nearest target for a test, no, but the most likely to be worth exploring ( the purpose of the mission, in addition to testing the drive, was to find inhabitable planets; if they were uninhabited, colonies would be sent, and if they were inhabited, trade routes would be set up ), the easiest to pinpoint by a straight-line warp system, and the closest spiral galaxy. As Captain Arcon considered all of this, a message came over the communication systems. That ’ ll be Admiral Miod, Arcon thought. He signaled to his comms manager to feed the message to the bridge screen. * “ Captain Arcon, ” * the holographic image of the Admiral said, * “ you and the* Cosmon are cleared to begin your warp at any time. Best of luck to you, and may the stars forever shine upon you. We will see you soon, Captain. ” As the screen flickered to death, the captain slowly, shakily, moved his hand to his chair, grabbing it to steady himself. Within seconds, he gave the order to navigation and engineering to execute the warp sequence. The experience can only be described as fire. It was wholly unlike any interplanetary or interstellar warp. The sheer, raw power emit by the engines and warp drives, to bring ships from one galaxy all the way to another, was unlike anything the captain had ever experienced. Streaks of light filled the windows, and time moved backwards. At times, Arcon felt as if he was hallucinating; the streaks began to take on different forms, sometimes of raging, firey infernos, and other times the forms of creatures found only in myth and legend: dragons, wyrms, elementals. And then, all of a sudden, it was over. The warp was a complete, if life-changing, success, and the Cosmon and its crew now floated in the western spiral arm of the Milky Way galaxy. Immediately outside of the ship was seen a small, yellow sun, and three planets away, a small, yet beautiful, blue and green planet. Captain Arcon immediately asked for scouting information on that planet. The reports that came in over the next few days disturbed the captain greatly. While some reports told of some truly amazing, great men and women that worked for the betterment of the world, known as Earth, most reports detailed the flaws in the species: the endless war, the barbarism, the lack of stable economies. They hadn ’ t even made interstellar contact yet. It ’ s because they haven ’ t been shown the way, the captain tried to reassure himself. As more information came flooding in, the more the captain began to despair he would have to commit the lowest of all evils to ensure the safety of the universe: xenocide. On the planet, many people throughout the ages had discovered the truth about how to live, what was best for the world, and they attempted to lead. Some followed them, but most denounced them as insane. The human race, as they were called, was incredibly stubborn and stuck to tradition way more readily than any other species Arcon had ever heard of. The captain was not confident that making contact would lead to enough exchange of ideas to cause the infighting on Earth to stop, to bring peace. He was, however, certain that allowing the humans to make interstellar contact on their own would bring their warlike behavior to the rest of the universe. In the end, the Cosmon would have to make contact, whether in peace or in war. If it were war, the Andromedeans would win within about five minutes. The Earthlings, even with their nuclear weapons, stood no chance against the superior firepower of thousands of years of development. That they even have nuclear weapons, Captain Makriov thought, is in itself a crime against all life. I do not know what to do. I shall have to think about this.
[ WP ] Humanity has finally cured it 's need to sleep with a very cheap , easily manufactured pill . It only took 5 years for the side effects to become apparent .	5 years ago, /r/nosleep released a never-seen-before product: the sleep pill. It was announced all over the news, and virtually everyone in the world longed for these pills in less than a week. As you may imagine, everyone rushed to the store to get them, wishing to add more hours awake onto their pathetic lives. Humanity is more productive and more stressed out than ever. They have more hours of jobs and school to attend to, after all. Today, humanity celebrates the five-year anniversary of the pill. Actually, they ca n't celebrate, because humans across the world were plunged into eternal slumber as a side effect of the pill! Over the course of 2 weeks, everyone is asleep on the streets. One class of humans remain: the anti-vaccine, feminazi, organic mothers of the world.
[ WP ] A Soldier Contemplates an Enemy Soldier 's Life on the Battlefield	There is little to do now but wait. We've been in the trenches for days now, my new best friend is one of the prisoners we've captured. His name is Jerry, ironically. I've been mulling over a thought the past few days. I wonder if they've got it as bad as us? It's a silly thought I know but everyone wonders it at some time. Hell it is n't even if they've got it better but are they better? Are they in the right that is? It's sad really. What if I came out here to fight for my nation, my people, what I believe in and it turns out I was wrong in the end. Everything I was fighting for was wrong? That would mean all this is for naught. But then again what if what I'm fighting for is right, that means all those thousands of people on the other side of this damned field are wrong. They do n't deserve that. None of us do. One of us has to be in the wrong... I wish this war had never come to be. I just want to be home, not in this cold wet trench. I must admit I never thought I'd miss clean underwear this much. It's the little things. Did I mention I'm on prison duty? I think I forgot to, if I already did sorry. Well anyway I'm guarding a prisoner named Jerry, slightly ironic. Well we've actually become good friends. He's a great artist so I've been bringing him what paper I can find. He draws me pictures of his home. I think I want to visit it when the war is over. It looks so beautiful, so different than from what I'm used to. Since we ca n't actually converse I've been doing a lot of hand gestures lately. We've got a running joke about my commander. Every single time he comes by he looks at Jerry and unconsciously picks his nose. Well now every time Jerry or I sees him we stick one of our fingers as far up our nose as we can until he notices and yells at us. I've had some good laughs with Jerry, I think I'm going to miss him. The commander says we're shipping him out in a few days. Jerry tells me he's afraid of leaving, that he likes it here. He says it's actually better than on his side. I've tried my hardest to console him but there's not much I can do, we both know where he's going. Yesterday Jerry and I did n't talk at all we just sat together in silence. We both know something is coming, for both of us. But neither of us want to accept that. Jerry is leaving for the camp in a few days, I do n't know how much longer I'll last.
[ wp ] Create a monster . Explain it , write a story or a scene or even just a small bio , but create a monster .	It's odd for there to be a press conference in an old tavern, but still, the various towncriers and wizards have arrived at the Silver Dream, called by some unknown being. Said unknown being makes its way to the podium. It stands about six feet tall, with shimmering wings folded neatly behind its back. The face of the creature closely resembles that of a brown country chicken, Though as it opens the beak, rows of teeth can be seen. Standing next to the creature is a translator, converting the creature's hand signs into the common tongue. With his helper in place, the creature begins `` talking.'' `` Gentlemen of the free presses of the world, I am Carhain Morro, and I am a Poltroon. We are a proud race, evolved from avian species long ago. For a long time, we have walked among you, disguising ourselves as local birds, learning what we can about you and waiting for the time when we can make contact. And yet, we have not come forward yet. In your ignorance, you use our name in vain. You refer to those who do not match your standards of courage by our name. You add in spiteful adjectives, such as'Festering' and'Filthy' which are insulting to the Poltroons who all pride themselves in cleanliness. For this reason, we have decided... to devour you.'' As the speech had been going on, more and more cloaked figures had entered the tavern, and at a signal from the Poltroon on the stage, they began attacking those present. As the bar had a `` no weapons'' policy, most everyone was consumed quickly, leaving only the translator to cower before the avian beings. There are hand signs passed between the Poltroon and poor Timotheus realizes what they're saying. He's the one who will be left alive, to warn others about the Poltroons. But left alive does n't mean left unharmed. The Poltroon he had been working with draws a four inch talon across his arm, cutting deep. Timotheus screams and passes out. When he awakes, all that remains around him is a tavern full of dead bodies and feathers. The war has begun.
[ WP ] Back when you were in school your teacher mocked you , saying you 'd never accomplish anything . Fast forward 20 years and your armies have conquered the entire world , making you the ruler of Earth . Now , time to go see your old teacher ...	We landed on the sports pitch. Already, the Imperial Guard were spread out, forming a perimeter. Tanks blocked the streets, attack choppers and fighters in the skies. I could see students in the windows gawking at the spectacle. `` Keep her running, Mike,'' I called to the pilot. `` We should only be a few minutes.'' I removed my headphones, adjusted my crown, and stepped out of the helicopter onto the pitch. As I did, soldiers formed an escort around me. Nonchalantly, I strode forward, and opened the double doors into the building. It was pretty much the same as I remembered. The place had clearly seen better days. I made a mental note to inquire with the territorial governor about the state of his schools. I lost myself in memories for a minute until we reached our destination. Room 105. I opened the door, and walked inside. Mr. Wade was writing something on the board, and froze to see me enter. The kids just stared. He dropped his marker, stammered, and tried to bow. `` Uh, Your Majesty!'' I laughed. `` Nice to see you, Mr. Wade. I was in the area when I remembered how you mocked me. You told me I'd never accomplish anything. And now?'' I gestured to my uniform. `` I'm the Emperor of Terra!'' I turned to the kids. `` Just remember that, kids. Your teachers - especially this one - can be wrong.'' Laughing, I turned and walked out. As I did, I made another mental note. I would track down all my other teachers, who had always encouraged me, and I would thank them properly.
[ WP ] You 're an average human being who suddenly finds them self slipping into sociopathy , without desire to love or be social , your mind is losing itself and you dont know why .	If I had to use one word to describe my life as of late, it would be `` apathetic.'' It seemed only the other day that I was still head over heels for my lovely Sara, and all her gorgeous features. Now all I see is her dead, crimson-dyed hair, her pale complexion, and her scrawny build. I can no longer find the words to describe her in a beautiful light, all that is there is the harsh darkness of reality, and I'm not quite sure why. Every day is a new struggle, I no longer enjoy going into work and seeing all of the joyful faces that once resided there. All I see is the customers, quietly judging me, and my fellow coworkers plotting behind my back. I feel trapped inside my own mind, as if I'm the only person in existence, I've lost touch with all of my friends, and the only person at fault for that is myself. Even the internet, the one place that I could find solace, some sort of escape, has turned into an entrapment, a reminder of how I am destined to be alone. Seemingly at the flip of a dime, life turned from heaven to hell, and I ca n't find the reason as to why. People are no longer equals to me, they are merely obstacles in the path of my happiness, and I will not let them stop me.
[ WP ] The detective looked at the evidence . A naked body . A block of cheese . The passenger door from a Volvo . Two gold teeth . And a Led Zeppelin album . It all fit so perfectly . He knew who did it .	`` You think it was them?'' `` It makes a lot of sense.'' `` The body? Who was it?'' `` Unidentified female. Face mutilated. Dark hair.'' `` The album?'' `` Her ex-husband's. She stole it awhile back and kept it.'' `` What about the car door?'' `` That one is easy. She bought a Volvo to skip out of the country in.'' `` And the teeth?'' `` Missing from our victim. She knocked the real ones out a long time ago.'' `` What about the cheese? I do n't get that.'' `` Her husband loves the stuff. She must've had food cravings and taken some.'' `` Why do it here?'' `` My guess? She was on her way out and our friend here stopped her. Looks like our victim was a bounty hunter.'' `` My God. She's back. Joy Turner is back.'' `` Call it in.'' `` Portable to Central, we have a-hey, bro, where's your badge?'' `` Oh, umm, I, uh....lost it again...'' `` What are we gon na do with you?''
[ WP ] Write a story about superheroes set in the medieval era .	Part I: Wind whipped over the battlements as the sudden summer storm approached from the east. Teylor, guardsman of the Watch for the City of Opals, peered eastward as the black clouds gathered on the horizon. Along the wall, other guardsmen stared and sighed, not looking forward to the rain that would surely soak them to the bone during their watch. Far below, in the slum neighborhood of Tinpenny, real danger lurked... -- -- - Richard, apprentice to the blacksmith of Iron Row, stood under the thatched roof of his home as the rain pelted down on the muddy, narrow streets of Tinpenny. The homeless sat, huddled under thin blankets and lapping greedily at the sky as cold rain fell, quenching their thirst. Those who had homes rushed to be in them, thankful to be out of the wet, even if they did live in squalor. The storm had intensified in the last hour, with sheets of rain and bolts of lightning crashing to the world below. Surely, the gods must be at war, thought Richard, glancing at his tiny home altar. Several idols sat on it, though he rarely prayed anymore. Not since he'd lost his betrothed over a year ago. The City of Opals may have been one of the largest cities in the kingdom, but the rains fell on rich and poor alike. He thought back to the night that Elise was lost to him. How they'd been so happy as they'd walked along the wall, stealing away for some time away from the crowded, ramshackle world they'd shared here in Tinpenny. How a gang had left him bleeding in an alley, Elise's dead hand clutched in his, her throat cut from ear to ear. Rage boiled behind his eyes as he stepped back into his hut and closed the door to the cacophony of the slum. -- -- - Nearby, five men, dressed in the robes of the clergy, made their way carefully down the muddy street. People quieted as they passed, even those homeless who gibbered wildly to themselves became quiescent as the figures passed... -- -- - Teylor's relief finally arrived and he took leave of his post on the wall. His armor and uniform were soaked, and his feet squelched in his boots as he plodded to the barracks. Lightning and thunder pealed overhead as he approached the main doors. Bertrand and Alexi were on duty, and he gave the pair a tired wave as he entered the darkened building. Stripping off his armor and uniform, he made sure to dry and maintain the polished steel to prevent rusting. Changing into a dry tunic and boots, he threw his oiled cloak over his head and headed to the Copper Lamprey for his nightly repast. -- -- - Theona huddled against the back wall of the alley, her pursuers blocking her exit. Copper curls clung to her forehead and cheeks as she placed a hand against the hard stone to steady herself. She could hear the men's cruel taunts as they closed in on her. `` C'mere, poppet. We jus' wan na'ave a li'l fun,'a's awl.'' The man's breath, rank with whisky, reached her before his words did. She said a silent prayer to her chosen goddess and turned slowly to face her attackers. `` Well, sirs... if it's'just a little fun...''' she said, running her tongue across her teeth. The men seemed confused for a moment, then chuckled among themselves, thinking they'd found a willing plaything. -- -- - The throng of youths gathered in the abandoned park huddled under the leaves of a tree, counting the money from the pockets they'd picked throughout the day, splitting the take between themselves. They pinched, fought, and hollered among themselves, bragging and boasting about their skill, the targets they'd fleeced, and the people they'd roughed up. All that came to an abrupt end when the cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows. Rain pelted off his cloak as he marched forward, his face in shadow. Several of the young men took notice and stood up from their gathering, demanding to know who he was. His voice rasped, `` Where is James'Dodger' Boyle?'' A stocky, well-build man emerged from the center of the throng, balancing a dagger on his fingertip. `` Who's asking?'' he said, grinning. `` The rest of you can leave now. If you do,'' said the cloaked man, `` you wo n't be harmed.'' Peals of laughter washed over the assembled gang as their leader approached the lone figure. `` What's the matter, mister? You ca n't count?'' Lightning flashed and the figure's arm made a quick, upward crescent from the folds of his cloak. A heavy, iron hammer connected with Dodger's jaw, splintering his chin and sending several of his teeth spinning through the air. An arc of blood spattered to the ground, mixing quickly with the rain and mud. `` One,'' said the man flatly as Dodger crumpled to the grass, cupping his broken face. Slowly, the gang spread out, surrounding the figure as weapons were brought out and rain continued to fall.
[ WP ] Rain Prompt	Only the gloom of a candle gave light to Richard's piece of paper. He was only eleven, but his mind was a vast meadow of ideas that any man would envy. He picked them carefully and gave them expression with an old quill that his grandfather kept as treasure. He was not innocent, nor was he gullible. If he had n't seen evil, he had imagined it millions of times. There lied a folder under his bed which was full of disasters, holocaust and famine. He did n't enjoy it either, he suffered with the characters he created. He lived in the paper and the paper lived from him. He usually wrote imagining a girl he once saw on a train. She was blonde, skinny; in her twenties. She hid in a wooden house today, fearing what might happen if the rain reached for her. Fire was pouring from the sky in a valley a few miles away. Panic prevented her from thinking clearly and little did she know that she would burn if her fears became true. Richard was sympathetic toward her, but as far as he was concerned, her fate was not in his hands. The bright yellow wall was crawling through the land as her eyes got wetter. Minutes passed and she closed the doors and windows. The fire was getting nearer and Richard was desperate. Sweat was running down his cheeks, his hands were almost trembling. `` ¡NO! ``, he yelled, but it was futile. A pine tree fell down on the roof and the flames took over the walls. Her heart would stop for the seventh time this year. Richard was crying and his stepparents were hugging each other. If they had known beforehand that this little boy were to cause so much trouble, they would n't have adopted him, but his grandfather had given a good word for him. Tears were falling on the floor. He moved the head to the left so they did n't ruin the ink and kept writing with his right hand. The girl had been held down by a big wooden plank and was unconscious at the moment. Smoke filled the room fastly. It had stopped raining, but the fire would not stop until every little peace of organic matter had become ashes. However, he still had hope that she would be saved. Besides, she was still fighting. He even smiled for a moment. But, suddenly, she remained calm. She leaned her head on her arms and closed her eyes. He stood up, read the paper twice and placed it with the others. He was tired and went to sleep. ^Suggestions ^are ^welcome. ^I'm ^trying ^to ^improve ^my ^English.
[ WP ] You buy a used car . After turning on the radio you discover it receives a radio station that ca n't be picked up on any other radios you try .	It was kind of kooky really. Such a good deal on the car and this station really rocked. All the music he loved in one place, no commercials. For the first few days he thought someone had rigged up a satellite radio to the dusty 8 track player in the dash. None of his friends could tune it in and after awhile Jerry just sat back and enjoyed the tunes. There was really no warning. Jerry did n't even consider the fact that the 8 track probably was n't compatible with satellite radio. He was cruising along just enjoying the drive listening to the radio. The song ended with the screech of a guitar and the DJ came back. `` We here at KJBB do hope you have enjoyed our programming, Jerry.'' `` Huh? Wha?'' Jerry looked around confused. `` We have been broadcasting all of your favorite hits nonstop in order to make these last few days more enjoyable.'' `` Are you... talking to me?'' `` Oh yes indeed, Jerry my man. All of this fine fine music straight to you and only you. We here at KJBB find it makes the transition much better.'' `` Wait a minute. Hold on a sec! What transition?!'' Jerry stammered `` So thanks for listening, Jerry. We now conclude your broadcast.'' The steering wheel wrenches itself from Jerry's hands and the seat belt tightens as his car sails over the embankment. Minutes later the paramedics arrive at the scene. `` Too late for the poor guy.'' Says one EMT, shaking his head. `` Radio is still going strong though.'' Says the second as they make their way through the wreckage. `` Man I really like that song...'' replies the first
[ WP ] Tomorrow every single girl over the age of 16 will wake up pregnant .	Oh Tuesday night was fine, yeah. No problems there. But Wednesday day?! That's a different story entirely. You see everyone, every girl, went to sleep just fine on Tuesday night. They ate dinner with their families, their parents, their loved ones, their siblings, their roommates, their boyfriends, their girlfriends, their whoevers you get the point. They ate their dinners. They watched their television prime time sitcoms. They brushed their teeth. They went to bed. B And Wednesday began. The sun rose, as it usually does. The early alarms screamed their daily songs. The eggs were cooked, the coffee was drank. But around 10am, yes 10am, that's the very time it happened....well that's not true. It was 10:17am. Yeah that's what time it was. Exactly. You can trust me, I was there. I witnessed it all. You wo n't ever find someone else who seen what I seen who can tell you, so you better listen. This is all before, well you know, everything went to shit. So anyways, back to the before times. Yeah, so the little bitches drank their coffees, and then 10:17, eastern standard time, hits and they all felt the same little bump, the same little kick, the same little, `` hello'', in their tummy wummies. All of them. Every single female on the planet felt it at the same time. Nobody knew what it was. It just fucking happened. It was weird. But over the next days, all of the females stomaches began to grow, bigger. I just thought that my wife was, you know, eating too much pasta and cheese. I did n't say anything of course, but obviously I was wrong. The girls got bigger and bigger, faster and faster. Obviously medical tests were done, and obviously this was all over the news. The news finally came out that every female on the planet was pregnant. A world wide emaculate conception. Not to say that every girl was a virgin, but just that these pregnancies were not the result of physical sex. Something else was going on, and it was clearly obvious to everyone. The pregnancies were quicker than normal, lasting only about 3 months. The women all gave birth on the same day, at the same time. Each woman on the planet gave birth that looked identical to every other womans baby. It was like 3 billion of the same person being born at the same time. Everyone assumed it must be the second coming of Jesus, or a physical manifestation of God. Everyone got so excited after the birth. The news would n't shut up. People thought everyone was saved and the golden era was about to begin. But you know what happened? Nothing. Weeks passed and everyone took care of their freak babies. The world became silent. Wars stopped. Everyone was... confused. Nobody knew what to do. People walked through life in a haze, completely dazed and confused by the arrival of messiah baby, all over the world. People stopped caring about money. Baby food and diapers were given away at stores. The homeless families were given free houses to raise their messiah baby in. Everyone stopped and focused on their baby. The world stopped. In those days it was completely, 100 % all about the baby. We realized that as a human race we just want the best for everyone. The hungry were fed. The homeless were sheltered. The sick were given care. We stopped worshipping money and letting that separate and control us. We wanted to raise our babies, and make sure everyone else could raise their babies too. I mean come on, messiah babies. That's fucking crazy. So time passed. Our babies got bigger. They learned to crawl. To walk. We taught them to talk. On their 2nd birthday, all of the MB's turned to their parents and said: `` Mother and Father, You have raised us so that we may show you the way to Heaven. You must follow me and do as I say.'' The messiah babies then gave their parents strange looking mushrooms. Nobody had any idea where the babies got these. `` You must eat this, and then follow me because I can show you the way out.'' Nobody knew what this meant. Nobody did anything. The television advised that you do n't do anything. Experts were weighing the options if the people should eat the mushrooms or not. While many experts agreed that the simultaneously world wide emaculate birth of 3.5 million identical birth was miraculous, some skeptics say it may be one of Satan's schemes to trick us into worshiping him. Others even suggested that it was some sort of government conspiracy. Websites were made, as were youtube videos with dramatic orchestra music guiding the mishmashed collected of sights and sounds. People voted but the vote was never definite. There were too many countries involved. Too many people. Votes were cast. Results were read. Complaints were heard across the many lands on this globe. They did 19 revotes, with an average of 18 recounts per each revote before `` they'' came to the conclusion that everyone can just make up their own minds. Everyone knows the consequences of taking this mushroom. Everyone knows the theories that were read. How can we vote on something that may effect everyone so personally all over the world? It should be up to the individual. So that's what the world decided: Decide for yourself. So some people ate the mushroom. And the rest of us did n't. My wife did. I remember the night she ate it. She took it out. I refused to have any. I bought into the story that it was Satan's game. My wife did n't. We argued about it often. She decided she'd eat it. I decided I would n't. We sat at the kitchen table. She held my hand and looked me in the eye before shuving the entire mushroom into her mouth. We held hands. She rubbed my shoulders. We told each other we loved one another. I remember the day I met her, how time literally stopped and my heart jumped in my chest. It's so cliche but that's what happened. When she looked me in the eye, I felt connected to her soul, before she ever said a word to me. We met and then fell in love and eventually got married. We never had any kids, well aside from messiah baby. 20 minutes passed and a white blinding light shot in through the windows, through everything. Where she was just sitting, eating that mushroom, holding my hands, she was now completely out of sight, behind a wall of piercing white. I could no longer feel her hand in mine. The white got brighter and brighter until it's all I could see. I then felt a pressure in the center of my forehead and passed around. I woke up two days later, covered in dried blood, vomit, and piss, on my kitchen floor. My wife was gone. Messiah baby was gone. All of the messiah babies were gone. And some of the women were gone also. And some of the men, Those of us left behind were confused. Sad, We became depressed. Then bitter. Then angry. And the world fell into violent times. War broke out. Nukes went off. People died. We lost all electricity 12 days ago. I feel like my time is coming.
[ WP ] A woman slips into a coma during the birth of her first son , never meeting the child , who dies within hours . The father adopts a child to cope with his pain : you . Your adopted father later dies . You must now break the news to your mother that you ’ re adopted .	Setting: Diner. Two people sitting, eating, sipping coffee. `` You're a piece of shit. ``, mumbled Corey, in between sandwich bites. `` What the hell are you talking about? ``, I mumbled `` This woman. This poor fucking woman. First her kid is dead, and now her husband, and here you sit on your fucking ass not giving a shit, eating fucking ham on ry --'' `` It's tuna salad'', I corrected `` Shut the fuck up! Just shut up. You been extorting her emotions, man. No remorse? No remorse. Stone cold deal, dude. You're coming clean, and that's good, but it took a man DYING for you to care. ``, he said to me. It might have impacted me more if mayonnaise was n't all over his mouth, like a fucking child. `` Look. I'm going to sit here and take criticism from you? From YOU!? Corey Feldman. Corey fuckin' Feldman. This is the best gig I've ever had, and I'm torn up inside over this woman's situation, you bet your ass, but see it from my perspective. I have congenital kidney disease. It stunts my growth. Same shit Gary Coleman had, man. I'm 36 years old! This fuckin' lady thinks I'm 14. Do you know how humiliating it is to ask my `` mother'' to sleep over a friends house just so I can go to a strip club? And even then no stripper wants to grind on a fucking teenager with a bowl haircut. I'm gon na have to go back to acting in shitty tv shows playing `` Middle School Friend # 2''. All because of my conscious. My lame ass fucking good for nothin conscious.'' `` Well...'', Corey started, `` Well... this is growth. Err, no pun intended. I admire it though! Sure you wo n't be paid as much, but this means a new life for you! No more sleeping in a kids room, or lying daily. So... how are you going to do it?'' `` Do what? ``, I questioned. `` How you going to tell the lady her husband is dead? And you're not her real kid? ``, Corey said `` Oh, that. I just sent over a postcard.'' `` A fucking postcard!? ``, Corey screeched out `` Yeah, man. She's probably reading it now. Poor lady. The movers are at the house now, getting all my shit out. ``, I said `` You're unbelievable. A piece of work.'' Corey threw his hands in a sign of disbelief `` And you know the worst part? ``, I said. `` Huh?'' `` You're gon na have to pay for this tuna salad...''
[ WP ] When you die , you are given the chance to flip a coin . If you call the toss correctly , you are allowed to keep living , while resetting to the age of your choice . You 've been doing this for a couple centuries now . Death is starting to get pretty pissed .	`` You know I still never learned to whistle?'' The two friends sat opposite a small mahogany table in a cafe somewhere in Germany, each with the same beer. The sunlight shone golden through the entire village, and every single one of the residents of Dresden looked vaguely angelic if not for the two knowing what angels actually looked like. `` Never? Come to think of it, I do n't think I ever did either. I spent at least half of my existence learning coin tricks.'' The two smiled wide, ancient grins at a couple walking along the old stone sidewalk. In the distance, a vague grumble started up. `` Never was very good at musical things anyway. Spent half my existence learning how to cheat.'' `` Well, time's up for this run.'' One of the two checked a very, very old pocket watch. `` One minute, fourteen seconds until your next guess.'' `` Oh, is that why I'm here? Should have known this was n't a social visit. What gets me this time?'' The man looked around, grimly, and pointed into the sky at what looked like a flock of almost stationary birds. `` This time is bad. Worse than Rome.'' `` Than Rome? Which time, the Cruicifixion or the decline?'' `` Both.'' As they spoke, the low grumble became a distant roar, as engine after engine grew into earshot and began bludgeoning the eardrums of the town. Pedestrians looked skyward, some horrified, some confused. Those that knew what was coming ran. Others, mostly natives, just stared. `` For your sake, it might be best to just let me have this one.'' The man with the pocket watch had returned it and instead withdrew an even older coin, spinning it all the way across his fingers and palming it each time. `` Really, this one haunts me.'' `` I'll take my chances'' The empty handed man finished his beer, sitting up slightly and glancing at the twirling coin. `` Tails.'' The man with the coin tossed it high, and caught it as it fell. He turned it over and clapped it to his forearm. `` Are you sure?'' `` Tails.'' As the coin was revealed, the empty handed man pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, and just before the angels of Dresden became another statistic, he swore he heard a whistle.
[ WP ] The rationalist in the land of nightmares	Everything is fine. I awaken as my cell phone alarm buzzes. It's time for meds. Everything is fine. The sky outside, it's black, devoid of stars. Must be winter, wherever this is. As I stand up and stretch my legs grumble in pain, I've only been on the road for a few weeks but it feels like years. Everything is fine. The horizon brightens and a blood red sun slowly rises. There must be smoke in the air, likely coming from one of the fires that keep erupting in the cracks of the streets. Everything is fine, I have my meds and I keep taking them. I reread the label and am comforted. There is no portal to dimensions unknown, there is no alien god raining terror on we few remaining souls. It's just the lysergic acid diethylamide that I bought from the chemist. Everything is fine. I have n't seen the chemist since I took my first dose and he was eaten by a monstrous creature made entirely of feet. Everything is fine.
[ EU ] Bryan Mills ( Liam Neeson ) rescues his daughter using a very particular set of skills ... no , a DIFFERENT particular set of skills . Skills that are not at all badass . ( e.g . macrame , wine tasting , CAD , artisanal toast-making , Viola da Gamba , tea ceremony , calligraphy , interior decoration etc . )	[ ( Companion Audio - please listen while you read ) ] ( http: //youtubeonrepeat.com/watch/? v=iiJLXXjifp0 & from=0 & to=10 ) I do n't know how it happened. I do n't know why. I do know that this incident will lead to only one resolution. It was a worse case scenario, happen too quickly for anyone to do anything about it. My daughter was turning eight and our clown canceled the day before her party. There was chaos in the household, trying to find a last minute replacement. But, it came to me. I have a particular set of skills, skills that make me a god send in times like these. Jimmy, here is your giraffe. Who's next?
[ WP ] You discover the horrifying truth of McDonalds	`` Say that again.'' `` Of course Mister President. The use of unaffiliated international assassins has been around since the Lincoln administration and its use-'' `` No the other bit.'' `` I'm sorry sir I do n't understand.'' `` McDonalds.'' `` Right sir. So cooping on an organization that sees many young people we've used application and interview techniques to select candidates for the programs.'' `` So we pick our illegal assassins from McDonalds?'' `` No sir.'' Followed by the annoyed sigh. `` We use the organization as the first cut. It is relatively easy to pick out psychopaths. From there further testing is needed, then of course training and reeducation. There are many losses but it is the end result that matters.'' `` McDonalds though? Next you will tell me Walmart creates hookers.'' `` No sir they are are extraterrestrial education centers.'' Silence stretched. `` A small, clearly inappropriate joke sir. If I may continue?''
[ WP ] It 's Friday , you and your co-workers work in a cubical office . The day is almost over when your boss splits in half , revealing himself to be a horrible demon howling `` EVERYONE IS WORKING THE WEEKEND FOR ETERNITY '' . How do you escape ?	`` I do n't remember that being in our contracts,'' I said in a bored tone. It was better not to show emotion to demons. They got off on it, in that weirdly perverted way that demons tend to have. `` I am Ul'Shur'Nuliva, mortal!'' My boss, formerly known as Jerry, melted his office chair into a steaming pile of plastic slag as his whipcord tail lashed about behind him. `` Your petty human contracts mean nothing... to... me?'' Jerry, or Ul'Shur'Nuliva, looked about him in confusion as my coworkers and I stared impassively at him. He took a moment to scratch the back of his iron-scaled neck with a talon. It took a special effort on my part to keep the hunger off my face. `` Jerry, please,'' I said. `` You're embarrassing yourself. Sit back down and we can forget that this ever happened.'' Jerry abruptly appeared to gather his wits again. `` I have worked among your human stink for seven years, solely to claim the souls of the world's most hated company for my Lord!'' One of the little office hamsters we kept in the corner squeaked once before exploding in a shower of flame and gore. I waved the sulphorous scent away from my face. `` Completely unnecessary, Jerry,'' I said in disappointment. `` There's no need to take out your frustrations on little mini hamster-Jerry. If you like I can direct you to another department for you to air your grievances --'' The fangs that jutted from Jerry's mouth screamed like a woman in the throes of birth as they suddenly tripled in length. `` Enough stalling, fools!'' He pulled a scroll cut from human skin out of his own shadow, unfurling it to show the demonic runes acid-etched into the surface. `` Sign the soul contract now, or I will take pleasure in seeing the limits to which your bones can unmade.'' `` I'm not even sure any part of that sentence made sense, Jerry,'' I said cheerfully. `` Do you want me to direct you to our Non-Human Resources department or not?'' He blinked at that. `` What?'' `` I mean it, Jerry. Last chance. You know our company's reputation.'' `` I watched your kind crawl about in the muck for ten millenia!'' he snarled. `` I demand --'' `` I'm sorry, sir, but I ca n't help you if you're going to insist on being unreasonable.'' I gave a subtle nod to my other coworkers as I began to stretch open my mouth. Ul'Shur'Nuliva watched in curiosity, then disgust, and then abject horror as we assumed our true forms. His eyes, bleeding the golden ichor of fallen angels, were fixed to our forms as he backed against the wall, setting it alight with sullen flames. Jerry was going to learn something today. He was going to learn that there were beings outside the boundaries of good and evil, beyond the blurred distinction between life and death, and that the alien geometries that represented them were bound into the fragile human realms as surely as the sun was nailed to the sky. My eyes jiggled as I waved my fractal tentacles through spacetime, leaving an abstract wake in the swiftly deforming space of my cubicle. `` We're going to miss you, Jerry,'' I said through one of my six mouths. Tears of bubbling oil ran down my not-face as a moment of something vaguely resembling sadness ran through me. Jerry had been an excellent employee. Afterwards, when the final dissolving fragment of Jerry's demonic soul had been sucked into my central finger-ringed mouth, our only working telephone rang. I slithered over to it, taking care to keep my voice from shredding the sanity of the caller. `` Welcome to Comcast. How may we assist you today?''
[ WP ] The reason humans sleep is due to an ancient contract . We are rendered unconscious so we do n't have to remember the price we pay . One night you go to sleep , only you remain awake , and experience everything fully	This submission is my attempt to fix issues identified by /u/_jho in his CC of my original submission. -- -- - `` Blessed are the insomniacs for they are really meant to live on the other side of the Earth. For while we sleep the Chinese wake, and our souls they take.'' - Private Tang Dale Jackson Wang. The fourth world war was nothing short of horror. Surprisingly no nukes were used. It was all conventional... that is if you consider space mounted lasers, rail guns, robots, and a host of other nasty shit conventional. That night I sat with several other `` volunteers'' in the back of a large transport plane. Our destination was unknown to us at the time. I'm sure career military could provide you more details of the plane but I am a mattress salesmen. All I can tell you is that the hard seats did n't recline and they did n't have any memory foam or pillowtop. We were just about to cross the International Date Line or so they told us. Each of us had been conscripted without any warning and taken from our normal lives just a week before. As best I could tell they had injected me with something and I had spent 48 hours incubating in some sort of large metal cylinder. When I awoke I felt like Peter Parker the morning after the spider bite. Yes I was now ripped but the way I felt was... Do you remember those old Mountain Dew commercials where everything was extreme? I jumped out of a plane over the Chinese mainland. I could n't believe it. Luckily the chute did all the work and opened itself at the appropriate time. I never felt the ground when I hit. I knew I should have had a broken leg but my new body was somehow more rubbery than it used to be. I pulled the large rifle from my shoulder. It hummed and I felt it drawing power from the ambient air around us as the night grew colder. This was the power to level a city block. Their robots were upon us in no time but somehow I did n't care. The me from a week before would have been cowering and begging for mercy but this me sliced and diced the machines at will. I could feel the new strength in my biceps each time the powerful gun recoiled. That was when they gassed us. Our hubris was our flaw. We all had gas masks, we all knew how to use them, but I was so sure of my weaponized self I never thought to use it. I had my first out of body experience. There my twitching body lay below me, eyes opened. I floated for a second and then I was myself again. I was on the bed roll in my shop. My wife Fung and my son Hao were asleep in the same room. We had determined that if the Americans where going to come and attack our shop that we would put up a fight. A man could n't just lose everything without making an effort to defend it. Something was wrong about those thoughts. It felt like the introspective times when a voice in your head takes on the role of mentor, foil, or imaginary friend and becomes your narrator. I was Tung but was n't my name really Jackson? I could hear our city's robots fighting just a few miles away. They were the old model the Communist party had gifted us to placate us just before the battle of Hong Kong. I knew they would n't last long when they faced the superior American technology. If the Americans knew anything it was how to kill. They trained for it from birth in their virtual worlds. The century of peace the rest of the world had celebrated had been their time to build, test, and improve the most horrific weapons on the Earth. I was awake again. The gas had n't lasted long on our improved physiology. It looked as if I was one of the last ones to find my feet. All around me lay destroyed machinery. We had decisively won our first battle. We followed a service road for another mile until we came upon on the silhouette of an ancient city. It had wisely darkened its lights out of fear of our approach. There was to be no sanctuary tonight. We blasted our way in and started killing methodically. Animals, schools, children, churches, women, and the elderly received no special immunity status in our onslaught. I was waiting in the store. I was standing outside. Something kept me from pulling the trigger and levelling this hovel. I opened the door from the inside. I stepped inside. My family was there with a middle aged Chinese man. I recognized him but... his features were reversed from what I remembered. The American was rail thin. He did n't match the stereotype I expected. They must have been rationing too. He looked intoxicated or maybe it was just blood lust. His features were reversed from what I remembered... from the mirror that morning. I had to stop this madness. My Gods, we were killing ourselves! Each night while I slept I became this man standing in front of me. Would I ever sleep again if he died?
[ WP ] Write about a little thing your S.O . does to make you smile	When she asks me to do her a favour, like get her water or rub her feet or perhaps fetch her a hot water bottle she makes her mouth really small. Her voice rises in pitch every so slightly and very child like. She quietly asks `` Will you do me a favour?'' and upon seeing my smile at how adorable she is, smiles herself. Her eyes crinkle ever so slightly and she holds my hand and ask me. I've never said no to asking because she's so cute when she asks, compared to her normal self. It shows that even the strongest personalities get tired, and she ca n't do everything herself and wants me to lighten the load and make her feel better.
[ WP ] Write a myth about the creation of humans .	Behold! These are the words of our people! In the darkness before the first dawn, Voice walked on the banks of the river of Time. There, Voice met Music and took her as his wife, protecting her and cherishing her, and their child was Song. On the other bank of the river of Time, Memory walked alone until he met Beauty and she, adoring him and cherishing him, took him as her husband and their child was called Love. At the mouth of the river, where it empties into the Great Sea of Heaven, lived The Oldest Of All, whose name was forgotten and whose speech was ancient. The Oldest Of All had a wife, whose name was Light, and their son was called Death. One day the three children -- Death, Love and Song -- found themselves standing at the mouth of the river; Love on the eastern bank, Song on the western bank, and Death in his father's boat in the middle, casting out his net. `` Take me across, Death, so that I may know Love,'' begged Song. `` Take me across, Death, so that I may meet the daughter of Voice and Music and hear the sound of her,'' begged Love. Death, being kind, brought Love and Song together and the three friends sailed into the middle of the river. Love and Song met for the first time, and they helped Death to cast his net. In return, Death helped them to build a bridge to span The River of Time and join the east to the west so that they could cross safely. Before long, Love and Song married and had a daughter, whom they named Life. She grew to be the most beautiful of all things and Death adored her. However, Life was afraid of Death's pallor and aspect, and his silence disquieted her and she shunned him. Heartbroken, Death went to his father and said `` Oldest Of All, whose name is forgotten, my father and Lord of The Sea Of Heaven, husband of my mother, how shall I win the favour of she whom I adore?'' `` My son,'' said The Oldest Of All, `` your friends Love and Song will teach you what you must know. O son of my wife, you must show them that you brought them together and that Life came into the world because of your kindness.'' Then Death went to his mother and said `` Lady Light, my mother and Mistress of The Sea of Heaven, wife of my father, how shall I address Love and Song and win the favour of she whom I adore?'' `` My son,'' said Light, `` your friends Love and Song know you well and will listen to what you have to say. O son of my husband, you must show them that you are ever faithful, and that Life shall ever be exalted by your constancy.'' And so Death went to his friends, and told them that he would forsake all things to marry Life, whom he adored. `` Death, son of Light and The Oldest Of All, our faithful friend,'' said Love and Song, `` our daughter fears you because she does not understand you. We shall teach you how to speak to her. We shall give you the gift of creation and you will make a gift for Life.'' Thus Death fashioned for Life figures from the mud of the banks of The River Of Time, small and perfect and numbering in multitudes. He laboured for a thousand years, and did not cast his net, so that his little mud shapes crossed the bridge between east and west freely, and swam in the Sea of Heaven as readily as they swam in the River of Time. They were birds and beasts and fish and all manner of things. Life, seeing his devotion and skill, slowly grew to understand Death and from understanding came friendship and from friendship came a kiss, and from that kiss, the first kiss of all, came union. From this union, just as the sun rose on the first dawn, came Man and Woman, the children of Life and Death, the heirs of Song and Love, of Light and The Oldest Of All, of Beauty and Voice and Memory and Music. Seeing them swimming in the River of Time, The Oldest Of All called his son to him and said `` Death, my son and son of my wife, your children are willful and do not return from The Sea of Heaven as they should. You must cast your net.'' And so Death does his father's bidding to this day, casting his net to save his children and the children of his wife, but some pass through the net and do not return. In The Sea of Heaven Death's parents, Light and The Oldest of All, cherish and protect them, while those who do not pass through remain in the care of their mother, Life, and learn from their grandparents and the parents of their grandparents until they too, one day, swim through and carry news of The River Of Time to their brothers and sisters. EDIT: Bonus reading ( because why the hell not? ); http: //vocaroo.com/i/s1MEy5NJvmzu Just out of interest, why the downvotes? I'm not a regular in this sub and I'm not sure of the criteria.
[ WP ] Everyone has a secret . Your secret is that you know each person 's secret .	Knowing people's darkest secrets was n't the problem. I had done it for so long that it did n't phase me anymore. It had been like this forever, people felt like mysteries, and then our eyes would meet for the first time. Upon eye contact the inner depth of their being pushed out of them like a stench from an animated character and it never went away. I would always know the one thing that they wanted no one to know. It was a gift, what can I say? I knew that Bobby from Chemistry had experimented with other guys over the summer. I knew that Kylie did drugs in the far corner of the church parking lot before youth band every week. I knew that my best friend stole something everywhere that he went.. I knew that my Dad had hoped for a miscarriage. But today had been worse, because people's secrets can change. For instance: my Sophomore year a girl named Suzy's secret was that she wanted to commit suicide. I did n't know how to change her mind, so instead I just followed her around and made sure that her secret never changed into that she planned to kill herself. Then one morning I saw her in the hallway and our eyes met for the slightest fraction of a second. I had to look back at her again, and then a third time, I could n't help myself. She looked exactly the same but at the same time she had, well she had changed, she had completely changed. The air around her, the queeziness in my stomach, it all changed. Her secret was now that she had a crush on Tommy Parkins. Little Tommy Parkins. Goodie two-shoes Parkins, whose biggest secret was that he cheated on a standardized test in fourth grade. I never would have guessed Tommy Parkins. But the point is that for the first time in six months the secret that she wanted to commit suicide was gone, and instead she had a crush on Tommy Parkins. Tommy Parkins. Ha. What a dweeb. So anyways, moral of the story was that they could change, I just wish that was the biggest change I had every seen. I just wish that I would have left before breakfast this morning. Until this morning my mom's secret was n't bad, it was just that she was jealous of her twin sister. That was weak compared to all that I had seen, almost not worth mentioning. I did n't notice at first, my senses were all used up. My ears were fine tuned into the rhythmic sizzling of bacon on the stove and my nose was slowly creeping closer to it. Finally, I picked one of the strips up, it burned me as I did, and I stuck it onto my tongue. I bounced around like I was preforming a ritualistic dance and finally locked eyes with my mom. I was fully prepared for a sarcastic, upset face at my stupidity, but I did n't notice her face. The new secret hit my gut first. It took all I had not to topple over. My throat went dry and she grabbed me a glass of water. I killed my twin sister. I took a gulp of the water. I killed my twin sister. I swallowed down the rest then tried to look normal. I grabbed another piece of bacon and put it in my mouth so I would n't say something dumb, and because that's what I would normally do right? Eat the bacon? I tried not to look at her again, but she held eye contact with me until she finally softly asked, `` You alright there sweetie?'' But my mom had never called me sweetie before.
[ WP ] Write a story about a bank heist , pocket watch , and time travel .	Bella Harrison reached into her pocket, the soft lining surrounding her hand as her fingers delicately searched for her watch. She found it, and pulled it out of her pocket. The worn brass felt cool against her skin, and she looked at the cover for a moment. It was her father's watch. It held a thinning stamp of their family crest, the cheap metal wearing away, all but a metaphor for how far she felt from home. She clicked the button on the side and the spring opened the watch. The thin hands, strong and steady, showed 9:10 AM. The second hand marched across the face on it's never ending mission. She closed the watch, and put it back in her pocket. Bella looked out across the lobby of the Fidelity Mutual Home State bank. It had opened at 8:00 AM today, as part of a block party weekend to promote small businesses in the neighborhood. People were streaming through the doors for free coffee and donuts, some of them taking the special the bank was running. Open a savings account, get a crisp $ 50 bill. Bella shook her head at the thought of it. The savings account had a $ 500 minimum opening deposit, and an annual fee of $ 100 to stay open. In the first year, a person spent $ 550 to get the $ 50 they gave as incentive. In the second year, considering the account was active, a person would pay the bank $ 100 each year to get.05 % return on whatever money they had in there. She found it ironic that there was very small difference between what she was doing and what the bank was doing, and yet she stood the risk of arrest. She looked right, through the window. She watched the throngs of people stopping at vendors along the street, some purchasing smaller items, some just browsing. She watched as kids lined up to get their faces painted. She leaned a little to look down the street, and she could see other businesses still setting up for the day. She leaned back into her seat. She had been here since 9:00 AM, as directed. She pulled out her father's watch and checked again. 9:18 AM. Sighing, she returned the watch to it's pocket. She thought of her father, sitting in the small, dingy room at the Valley Springs Retirement Community. It was a community only in that multiple people lived there. In reality it was a 5 story apartment-building-turned-nursing-home. Every time she visited, the smell almost knocked her back out the door. People lined the halls in their wheelchairs, looking bored. Nurses and nurses' aides walked quickly down the hall, efficient, looking only to go where they were needed. It was a sad place. Hopefully that would all change today. At 9:20 AM, precisely when she was told it would happen, a man strolled through the door. He walked as though he was important, but he was n't dressed differently than anyone else in the bank. He wore black slacks that looked loose on his frame. His white button down oxford shirt was slightly wrinkled and also sat loose, the sleeves rolled up halfway. His tie was askew, and his shoes looked like they were his only pair. He walked past Bella and the teller's counter, saying good morning to each one. He walked around the counter and to the small office door marked Manager. He pulled his keys out, pausing to say good morning to the cleaning crew, and walked into his office. Bella stood, and stretched. She put her hands in her pockets, one hand surrounding the watch, the other on the note she had been given. She walked across the lobby, slowly, unceremoniously, and passed the teller's counter. They all looked at her, quizzically, but no one stopped her. She walked beyond the counter to the small office, the door open and the light from the window streaming into the hall. She stopped at the door, and knocked softly twice on the door frame. The man looked up at her, smiling. `` Hello there,'' he said cheerfully. He was so handsome. She smiled. `` Hi,'' she said kindly. `` What can we do to serve you this morning?'' he asked. Business as usual. She played with the watch in her pocket absentmindedly. `` Actually, I have an odd request. I have a note for you.'' She pulled the piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to him. Her heart jumped a bit as he took it, and their fingers touched. `` Certainly, let's see here.'' he said. He took his glasses out of his pocket and put them on. Thin wire frames. He read the note line for line. When he was done, he looked at Bella, and back at the note. He read it again. He fell back into his chair, the note dropping to the floor. He was shaking his head. `` No, no...'' he said. Bella anticipated this, and shut the door behind her. She stood, waiting. Finally, after 10 painful minutes, he stood. Saying nothing, he stepped past her and opened the door, walking into the hall. She turned and followed him. They walked down the hallway, not saying a word to anyone. He walked back to the file room and pulled open a drawer. He took out a small, nondescript manila folder and opened it. He took a small piece of paper out, and looked at her. `` I'll take care of this,'' he said. `` You need to leave.'' She nodded. He had more or less done what she was told he'd do. She just hoped it had worked. She turned and walked back down the hallway, her shoes padding on the soft brown carpet. The tellers looked at her again, as did most everyone in the lobby. She realized she must look ridiculous to them. She walked outside into the bright sun. The sounds of the party surrounded her, and she felt less conspicuous. She took the watch out and looked at it. 9:40 AM. Time to go. She walked quickly down the street, and saw an old, beat-up blue payphone against the convenience store wall. She walked to it and picked up the receiver. She dialed the number she had been instructed. Suddenly, she felt her whole body stiffen. It almost hurt, just like before. Her eyes went dark, although she knew they were open. She shuddered, and felt electric jolts run through her body. She felt like she would vomit, her grip on the phone tightening. And all at once, it was over. She blinked, letting the light come back to her. Same street, same block. No party. She looked around, only a few people walking down the sidewalk. She looked back to the bank down the street, it's large awning giving respite from the sun. She hung up the phone and took a few steps down the sidewalk, coming into full view of the bank. Pulling out the watch, she checked the time. 9:50 AM. She pocketed the watch again as she came up to the bank window. Her heart jumped when she saw the name. Harrison Mutual. Tellers were helping a few customers, but it was otherwise deserted. She looked at the window and laughed. Another promotion, open a savings account, get an iPad. Some things never change, she thought. She continued down the sidewalk to the bus stop. She waited a while for the bus to pull up, and when it did she walked on and nodded at the driver. She chose a seat in the back, and looked back one more time at the bank. It hardly looked any different. The bus trip took almost an hour, but it dropped her off right in front of Valley Springs Retirement Community. She walked off the bus and into the building. The front desk ignored her. She was confused by that. She's been here so many times, a lot of them know her name and where she works. She walked down the hall to the elevator, and took it to the third floor. She walked down the hall to her father's room. Knocking lightly, she looked inside. It was empty. She smiled. Suddenly, her cell phone rang. She reached in and saw the name. Hurriedly, she opened it, excitement welling up inside her. ``... Hello?'' she asked. She knew who it was. `` Hey sweetheart,'' her father said. He sounded good. `` It worked,'' she said. She could hear him laugh. `` Yes it did. I knew I'd do the right thing.'' he said. `` What did it say?'' Bella asked, as she walked back down the hall slowly. She did n't know where he was, and at the moment that was okay. She knew he was well taken care of. `` It said that my wife had given me a watch, and described it. That the woman in front of me was my daughter, and she had the watch if he -- I -- doubted the note. From there it was easy.'' he said. She laughed. `` And... and how did you do it?'' she asked. He must be disgustingly wealthy right now. `` That, my dear, is my little secret. Now, meet me at 4795 Rainier, in the Whitaker neighborhood, and we'll have lunch.'' He hung up. She sighed, and put her phone back in her pocket. She walked down the hall and took the elevator to the lobby. As she exited the lobby, a nurses' aide stopped her. `` Miss, can we help you find someone?'' he asked. He was nice about it, but his tone told her they were watching her. `` No,'' Bella answered. `` No, I know exactly where he is.'' She walked out the door, turned left, and walked down the street, basking in the sunlight.
[ WP ] First person account of an inanimate object ( a coin for example ) through it 's life cycle . It picks up snippets of conversations which reveal the larger plot ( a revolution for example )	My maker spent a year cutting soft grooves into the dark wood of my frame. He polished the copper hinges three times before he fastened them to my back and a fourth time once they were firmly in place. The softest velvet was placed within me to cushion the objects I would later hold. I can say with no ego that I am a beautiful box. My design and execution reflect the skilled hands of a master tradesman, ancient and skilled at his craft. And for all my beauty, I am not perfect. Perfection implies a sense of objectivity that no realistic box would aspire to. I will never shine like gold, or sparkle like jewels, but this is splendid because people drawn to those things tend to be quite gaudy and I have no interest in the likes of them. And here I have sat for many years, behind the counter of a store, for my maker is proud of his work and hides me from eyes he deems unworthy. I hear the muffled voice of my maker as he approaches the door to his shop. ``... just as you asked. I have them all here, step inside the shop, lad.'' My maker holds open the door for a young man as he enters the shop. `` I wish you would have told me what their purpose was. Would n't have made them any faster but I love the idea!'' My maker leads the man to the front of the counter, then steps around and lifts seven small boxes onto the counter. `` I ca n't thank you enough,'' the young man says as he looks over the simple wooden boxes lovingly. `` The ring set me back so much I was afraid I could n't afford something to put the notes in!'' The man reached into his pocket and pulled out several crumpled bills and laid them on the counter. My maker looked long and hard at the young man as he examined the boxes. He then turned and ran his hand over the surface of my lid, feeling the intricacy of his most prized peice of work. He then turned and began counting the bills on the counter. `` There seems to be a problem here, lad,'' my maker said as he folded the bills. `` You only have enough here for 6 boxes.'' The young man looked up with a guilt stricken expression. `` I... only six? I'm sorry sir I thought there was enough.'' He lifted one of the plain wooden boxes and slid it accross the counter where my maker lifted it up and sat it beside me. `` Aye, only six. But I have something for you.'' My maker lifted me up and sat me atop the other boxes. The young man stared transfixed at the quality of craftsmanship. My maker's gruff voice roused him from his stupor. `` Will this do for the seventh box? You take it if you promise me that this will be the seventh, that it will hold the ring and the seventh letter.'' `` I could never ask this of you sir...'' the man said under his breath. `` You did n't ask, son. This is the most beautiful peice of woodwork I have ever made. I would never sell it, I wanted something more for it than to be some decoration.'' And from that moment I became beautiful not only in design, but in purpose. When the rough hands of a young man gently lifted my lid, and place love within my hollow shell A ring, a letter, a question. Six other boxes with six other letters would guide their reader toward me.
( WP ) Everything you touch turns into Spaghetti .	`` Sir, I'm going to need you to explain this situation we have over here.'' The interrogator adjusted his glasses and placed a small binder on the steel surface of the table. `` You see, we do n't usually have cases like yours, mister..?'' `` Jackson, Peter Jackson.'' Peter extended a gloved hand to the small man sitting in front of him. `` Well mister Jackson,'' the man said whilst shaking his hand, `` I understand there has been a confrontation between you and a particular officer in duty yesterday?'' `` I never intended to... -'' `` Did or did you not made contact with officer McNab yesterday around 11 PM?'' `` Yes, but... -'' `` And did you, allegedly, confronted officer McNab and had a conservation with said officer on 11th Rockstreet?'' `` It's not what it loo... -'' `` Sir, please, I'm just trying to do my job.'' The interrogator opened his binder and began to read. `` On the 13th of February mister McNab failed to report in after his patrol round. Two officers went searching for him and but failed to find him, instead only discovering a big pile of, yes I know it's ridiculous, spaghetti on the middle of the sidewalk at 11th Rockstreet.'' The interrogator looked up from his papers and stared coldly at the man in front of him. `` McNab was n't just another officer, Mister Jackson, this man saved my ass countless times during my patrolling years. He was a good cop, Mister Jackson.'' Peter swallowed. `` Now if you have information, of any kind, on the whereabouts of officer McNab, I ask, no beg you to share it with us.'' `` Well... -'' The officer slammed his fist on the table, causing Peter to almost jump from his chair. `` I swear to god, I'll catch the bastard who did this. The poor lad already lost his wife to cancer, godamnit! I apologize, sometimes my emotions take hold of me. Please, continue.'' `` Sir, please, this may sound a little odd but I need you to follow me through this, okay?'' `` Loud and clear.'' `` Well... There is this story, about a man who loves gold so much, he wishes that everything he touches would turn into gold.'' `` I know that story, he's called Midas, right?'' `` What if I told you that the thing I love the utmost in this whole universe is... spaghetti...?'' The face of the officer went blank. `` Fuck this shit.'' said Peter, and he threw of his glove and slapped the abashed officer in his emotionless face. Where the angry civil servant had sat down now lay a big pile of spaghetti with a few medium-sized meatballs. After taking a quick bite of the mass Italian food formerly known as Officer McKinley, Peter begin to turn the backwall of the police office into his favorite dish. `` Goddamnit Peter, you ca n't keep spaghetting yourself out of problems for the rest of your life.'' Peter said to himself. But Peter did, and it was absolutely delicious.
[ WP ] You pass out and wake up at your own funeral . Nobody can hear or see you except our schitzophrenic friend and you have to convince him he 's not hallucinating .	I was n't claustrophobic until the day I woke up in a coffin. There's no pillow, hardly any padding, no holes in the sides, and not a damn inch to move. I'd think it was inconsiderate, but then, most dead people do n't need to ask for the deluxe suite. I could hear faint mumbling outside when I opened my eyes. I began to hyperventilate, but then realized I needed to conserve as much air as possible and made an effort to tone down the panic. Thankfully, it sounded like the service was almost over, and I could hear the church pianist playing a somber melody. Being carried to the hearse was a pain. I do n't know who they hired to handle my final resting place but they seemed to be making an effort to bash every wall in the sanctuary. When I was finally placed in the back of the vehicle, I heard a familiar voice. `` Yes, Mitchell. Please. Here he is. No. Do n't do that.'' Sam has been my friend for two years, and I've watched as he's battled visions and deceptions that I ca n't even imagine. For months he's been switching medications and trying to find one that works for the long term. Even in the midst of his struggles, and the constant challenge to retain a grasp on reality, he is one of the kindest souls I've ever known. Sam sat in the back seat of the hearse. Dad, Mom and Cynthia were in a separate vehicle; I ca n't blame them for not wanting to ride with my hypothetical corpse. Between the hearse and back seat was a screen, not unlike the ones on my windows at home. `` Mitchell, no. I'm sorry. I want to see Joseph. Joseph.'' I almost sat bolt upright in the coffin before I remembered I could n't. Sam was speaking to Mitchell, one of the frequent imaginary visions that appeared within his consciousness. Mitch was a Grim Reaper-like figure, strict but patient, who had the power to communicate with the spirit realm. I knew there was no way to imitate Mitchell. He was a fully formed person in Sam's mind, and I simply was n't him. But what to do? `` Sam!'' I whispered harshly. It was n't loud, but the sound was still passing through the coffin's thick onyx shell. `` Sam, it's me! I need your help - and Mitchell's!'' Sam turned around to face the coffin. `` Do you hear that, Mitchell? Sounds like Joseph...'' `` Yes, it's me! Sam, it's not my time yet. I'm not ready to be among the dead.'' Sam nodded, as if waiting for Mitchell's response. `` I know you ca n't.'One must not interfere with what the universe has already set in stone.' You've always said that...'' Damn it! I pounded the top of the coffin and spoke again, more curtly. `` Mitchell. If you can help me now, I'll be forever indebted to you. Ca n't you ask the higher-ups to give me another chance?'' `` You already owe a debt to the Earth, and now you must repay it,'' Sam said in a slightly deeper voice. Tears welled in my eyes. Surely we could n't be far from the burial site now. It suddenly dawned on me: Sam was going to bear the coffin and guide it into the ground. No one else would be within earshot. I made one last effort, trying to accept my near future of starvation and decomposition. `` Mitchell... Sam's a good man. A friend to you, as you've been a friend to him. But we need each other. We need to live out both our lives in the real world. Please.'' The hearse came to a screeching halt. I heard the zip of pants on leather and knew that Sam had raced to the trunk. The click of doors unlocking, the whirr of the mechanism on which my horrid deathbed was moving. The mechanism stopped and I knew I was out in the open. I heard the pastor nearby, saying something -- droning on -- when suddenly: `` Mitchell says he's not ready!'' An interjection from Sam, a gasp from the crowd. `` What?'' cried the pastor. `` Some souls are not meant to leave this Earth. Some souls still have a purpose.'' Loud muttering from the crowd, pierced by yells: `` Sit down, you lunatic!'' `` He's crazy, that one! Always has been!'' Without warning, a flash of light in my eyes -- I squinted as they adjusted to the light. Sam's face peered down at me. `` Mitchell says you have a deal.'' He yanked the rest of the coffin open and carried me out, then placed me on my feet. Several people screamed and one passed out. The rest stared intently at me, figuring out if I was dead or alive. Then my Mom walked over, slowly, and touched my face. `` You're burning up...'' I gestured to the coffin. `` Yeah, you people really ought to think about installing fans in there.'' She laughed jubilantly and hugged me tight. The rest of my family joined the group hug, but all I could do was stare towards Sam, standing alone next to the hearse. There are many moments when our realities do n't align, and perhaps they never fully will. But now, every time I see Sam, I remember the time he bridged the gap -- between my world and his -- and brought me back from the great beyond. *** EDIT: formatting errors.
[ CW ] Write a story that begins and ends with the same sentence , but the sentence has a completely different meaning each time .	It was loaded. That question. He asked whether I was in bed. And not whether I was sleeping. He asked whether I was in bed. And not whether I was in my bed. He knew. Did she tell him? Did she? I looked him in the eye. He was dead serious. No trace of emotion at all. The air still around us, tension, almost as if solidified, as it coiled itself upon my next words. But then— His face distorted in anger, red and green. Eyes wide open, before I could even move. `` I trusted you! You were my friend —'' Bang! I stared in disbelief at the hole in my stomach. `` Jack —'' The gun, I would never had thought it was real. That he would kill me? But now I'm dying — It was loaded.
[ WP ] `` My fellow Americans , the state of our union will be far better after tonight . As soon as my cabinet and I leave this building , the doors will be locked and CSPAN will broadcast the first ever legislative hunger games ... . ''	A loud, sickening click echoed through the silent room as the Sergeant at arms locked the door from the outside. Joe Biden nodded his head as he looked into the CSPAN camera, his cell phone at his ear. Two congressional aides walked up to the podium while the president took a step back. The aides lifted the podium to reveal a cache of American made weapons. A historic Smith and Wesson.22, several M1 garands, and a number of Colt.45s. 60 seconds of tense hesitation passed as members of both parties looked at each other menacingly. South Carolina Congressman Joe Wilson sat towards the front, seething and boiling in his hatred towards the president. He detested that Kenyan Muslim since his first successful straw poll in Iowa. He could n't believe how easy this would be. Joe did n't need a weapon from the recently unveiled cache. He reached to his ankle holster and covertly pulled out his desert eagle, stuffing it in his pant pocket waiting for the right moment. Someone had to break the nervous silence. Texan Senator Ted Cruz looked around puzzled, `` what the hell are y'all waitin' for?!'' He darted for the cache. Just as he was about to reach for a Colt.45 Wilson let off the first shot of the night. `` I'm gon na be the one to take down this A-rab lovin' son of a bitch!'' The sound from the desert eagle was deafening. Ted Cruz fell crumpled over the pile of weapons, his warm Texan blood covering his colt.45. Wilson and the President made eye contact. 53 years of a calm cool demeanor evaporated under the gaze of the congressman. Wilson's wild eyes flashed as he screamed `` die you Kenyan devil!'' Just before he pulled the trigger, ol' Joe Biden, loyal to a fault, pushed the president out of the way. The bullet was meant for obama's heart, instead, it punctured Biden's lung leaving him on the floor gasping for breath. `` Joe! What'd you do Joe?!'' The President lifted the head of his right hand man, hopelessly attempting to make him more comfortable in his final moments. Biden Looked up at the president and smiled. `` Looks like this is is our last adventure together, Barry'' Biden coughed up Blood all over the President's arm. At that same moment Marco Rubio kicked Joe Wilson Directly in the small of his back. `` My family did n't leave Cuba to live in a country of murderous politicians. We have to exercise restraint... All of us!'' His speech was garnering attention from the congress. `` We ca n't resort to violence. How can we lead the greatest country on earth if we ca n't even maintain basic human morals like respect for life?'' BANG! The bullet went right between Rubio's eyes. John McCain was laughing as he turned the gun towards Obama. `` Consider this a recount, Barack.''
[ WP ] You are chosen to speak one sentence into an empty room . It will be recorded and studied by the smartest men in the world . What do you say ?	I walked into the cold dark room. The lights suddenly flashed on, and there they stood, the smartest of the smart. Steven hawking, a bunch of guys from the molecule smashing thing I read about once... All getting ready to hear the brilliant words that I had thought of. As I stood there, I cleared my throat, nervous. These people should be curing diseases, I thought, not studying a goof like me. But I could n't refuse now. So, I took a deep breath and let lose with my phrase, the collection of words that would change humanity forever: `` Ravioli. Ravioli, give me the formuloli.''
[ WP ] One fateful day , everyone is transformed into their video game avatar ...	So there I was, one minute a neck beard sat in my mums basement playing EVE Online, the next minute I ’ m waking up from my Dorito covered, Mountain Dew stained couch. But that ’ s the problem I wasn ’ t. I awoke in a strange station environment which seemed all too familiar. A packet of Quafe, a deplorable Legion Of Death advert on the holoscreen and a Svipul on my ship overview. All I could do was let out a small squeal with excitement; I was in EVE Online. I sprinted up the concourse to see my cancerous ship, on the way stopping multiple times to catch my breadth, god why did I make my avatar so fat. Having reached my ship balcony I gazed out at the pure vastness of it. The awe inspiring size which one can not truly comprehend unless experiencing it first hand. How long I stood there I do not know but my gawping was broken by a notification appearing bottom right of my vision “ deathkiller69 is online ”. I was a taken aback, had all my friends been transported to the eve universe? I quickly figured out how to open my contacts list and messaged as many as possible to try and establish what had happened and yes indeed we were all our avatars. With that brief and overwhelming revelation there was little to do but ship up and head out for some “ gud fights ”. I was one of the first to board my pod. Feeling the cold gelatinous goo slowly spread over my body and suspend me weightlessly while it connected me to what I can only say was the ships computer system allowing me complete access to its controls. Having finally got everyone to undock in the correct ship and fittings, ffing scrubs, we headed out. Having played for years a couple of us only lemminged occasional, myself once, before we jumped through a gate and found our first unsuspecting prey. The fleet commander called to hold cloak as he chose the primary, there being only one ship, to allow us optimal success of winning this fight. As he called to engage shivers ran through my entire body. My brain working over time to manage my ships systems. “ I have point ” a voice called, another calling jams. We had this in the bag! “ Cynos up ” the voice echoing through my ears, a sense of dread filling my body. All I could do was look on as wave after wave of Ncdot supers dropped on our 10 man Svipul fleet. We we ’ re obliterated in seconds and just as my pod was being locked the mockery in local erupted. “ get gud nerdz! ” “ Learn to fight you scrubs. ” “ Ncdot supremacy, we ’ re elite. ” All I could do with one last onerous effort before death was to utter a last word to these heinous pilots….. “ Dreddit is recruiting ”
[ WP ] You have just died . The Good News is that there is an afterlife . The Bad News is that it is n't Heaven . Or Hell . Or Purgatory . And you are n't a Ghost . In fact , the afterlife is something that no sane human being would ever predict , and has most likely never been written down .	As I breathe through the hospital machines granting me temporary life I turn to my wife and smile, and exhale my final breath. I feel my life force dissipate, expelling my spirit and catapulting it through the fabric of existence. I do n't think, or feel, or consciously do anything. I am simply all that is, and all that ever will be. I see a planet, it is unlike any image I've ever seen. It zooms towards me, slamming me into... My eyes slowly open. The light is blinding. Images blur in front of me. Everything looks so... alien... A figure looms over me, smiles, and says, `` Congratulations. Welcome to Level 2.''
[ IP ] Lying in Wait	Trajan felt betrayed. The spring had come early, bringing wave after wave of oppression against the cover he so desired. Nothing but clumped frozen mud mixed with the earthen smell of being stuck made him feel worse. Only a few days of snow had managed to make its way down to cover his tracks. What was worse than the abundance of rain was the lack of enemy movement. There had scarcely been an opportunity to do any reconnaissance on the command unit near the middle of the division. The come of weather had slowed their mechanised units down more than the freezing winds of winter. Their supply train was slow, guarded but still vulnerable. As long as they kept moving and held their commander's beacon, they would still be defended from orbital bombardment. Luckily for Trajan, his was trained for such a task. Today, he had the cover of a swamp that the enemy scout squadrons had overlooked. The impassable marsh lingered, and they did n't want to be bogged down by unnecessary information. As the sun shined through the trees with a brilliant beam, he saw an opportunity. The Commander and his aides were surveying the edge of the forest. His vanguard to the rear had begun pitching the command tent and the body guards were off to the side on latrine duty. Trajan lifted the rifle, a heavy thing in the steadiest of hands. Identifying an older man with two silver stars on his collar, he moved the optical zoom on the right side of the head. The beacon was attached, cybernetic enhancement. I whispered into the comm link that had been silent for days. `` Target acquired.'' The only thing I felt was the kick of the rifle before fleeing the scene.
[ WP ] You live in a world where magic exists , however , you must sacrifice a memory in order to cast a spell . The more memories , or the more precious a memory , the more powerful the magic . You just woke up with no memory save a name .	The soft furs around my body are warm, drawing me back into them. I groan as I fight awakening, wishing only to fall back into slumber. A stirring to my right draws my attention as the young child holding a jug scuffs the table against the floor. The boy exits, only to return followed by an aging woman. She busies herself about the room, pouring a cup of water and proffering bread. I accept, but I know nothing of what she says. Nothing makes sense or seems familiar. I grunt in hopes that she will offer more food. Her mouth turns up and she tears another piece of bread off, putting it in my palm as she did the other one. She vocalizes again but it is no more coherent than before. I grunt again before realizing the sound alone will not be enough, but I have no more to offer. She shakes her head and beckons me. Hoping it means more food i follow her into a room full of other people, throwing whispers and glances that sow unease. I tense up in reaction, only to relax at the touch of a hand, the child from earlier. `` Jagtaron?'' he questions. The name is familiar, the ring of it fitting into place. I nod and the boy says something much like the woman from earlier. When I do not respond he mutters some more and swings his hand toward me. Sparks flash from his fingertips and the whispers become coherent as I recoil from the motion. The child offers a knowing expression, then returns to the circle of children who seem very interested in what memory he relinquished. I turn my attention back to the group of older people, trying to make sense of the hushed conversations. Phrases drift in and out, mostly of `` savior'' and `` such power''. One particularly gruff voice attached to an equally gruff man announces that the last'Overlord' had been vanquished. All the people immediately throw up their hands in joy, loud praises and rejoices could be heard from outside joining in the excitement of the inside. Only I was silent, not passing from the attention of the older woman from earlier, who comes closer. `` What cause for celebration?'' I ask, my throat hoarse from disuse. `` My travelling child, your magic has saved us. The feat you performed allowed our people to rise against our captors, the Ungifted. We are free from slavery. Our memories and our powers are under our control once more. Thank you, our savior.'' She finishes with a bow of her head, wetness once again falling down her cheeks.
[ WP ] Cause of death appears to you as floating text over people 's heads with no time indication . You start noticing a trend .	`` COMPLICATIONS DURING SEXUAL INTERCOURSE'' Geoff found it hilarious when he read this. After a decade of seeing people's cause of death, he had become quite jaded to the ability. This surprised himself, in retrospect, but one could understand why. When he figured out what was going on, like any good Samaritan, Geoff took it upon himself to prevent some of the nastier deaths. To his credit, he attempted to be a super hero for a year before hanging his metaphorical cape. Too often he would follow a `` drug overdose'' victim, believing he could prevent them from using heroine, and only discovering there was an anesthetic complication during their hernia surgery. Or the `` impending death'' was years or decades away. Or he would quite simply fail to prevent a tragedy. He attempted to save dozens of lives. He may have postponed one or two deaths. So, he gave up. Geoff briefly entertained the idea of fortune telling, but who really wants to know how they die? It was too morbid to make a living off of. Instead, he simply lives with this `` gift''. And eventually he just tuned it out. But he could n't ignore this. `` Death by sex,'' he thought. Geoff had seen millions and millions of deaths. There were common ones like car crash, cancer, or heart attack; occasionally the not so common like sky diving or crushed by server rack. He had n't seen `` sex'' before, though. The ~~un~~fortunate soul was in his twenties, average build. Maybe he pops a few too many viagra as a dare. But the whole thing seemed hilarious to Geoff. After nearly giving the guy a high five, Geoff went on his way. It was n't two weeks before he saw it again. The same message, `` COMPLICATIONS DURING SEXUAL INTERCOURSE''. Geoff snickered, thought it was odd luck, but continued on his way. He got suspicious the third time. By the end of the month, there was n't an hour that went by he did n't see the message. There was n't a pattern as far as gender, age, or ethnicity were concerned. It seemed that as long as you were old ( and young ) enough to get down to business, then your mortality was going to shoot through the roof. Geoff, much to his annoyance, could n't see his own text, so he would have to swear off sex until he figured this out. It was n't going to be easy, though. Since there were n't any mentions of a death-by-sex pandemic going on in the news, he assumed that whatever was going to happen would happen at the same time. While Geoff was determined to not try and be a hero anymore, he also really enjoyed sex. So, it was worth breaking his rules for this one. Geoff was a simple man, and his hobbies mostly included potent potables, so he did n't have many resources at his disposal for the investigation. He did have Google, he was good at googling things. If anyone discovered and wrote about how Geoff solved the impending sex crisis, they would find it hard to incorporate the `` research'' portion of his adventure into the memoir. The research composed primarily of many hours of browsing porn websites, which in retrospect was how Geoff spent most of his evenings. For a while it was hard to watch porn with death messages floating above the performer's heads, but he got used to it eventually. It was n't porn, but the biology news that caught his attention. There were always sex studies, and sex drug trials happening for any horny psych student that was decent at writing grant proposals. This one was unique, since in all of the pictures every single person had a death-by-sex message posted neatly above their thick craniums. It was a drug trial for a permanent, painless, side-effectless birth control method. `` Totally without side effects,'' Geoff thought. `` Oh, excepting the death one. Otherwise you'll be completely fine.'' Damn, it even worked on both sexes. Calling the lab was fruitless. It was a privately funded endeavor, so there were many money interests forcing this research to finish up. If he could just convince one of the researchers that this was horribly dangerous, then he could win. It was n't easy. He ~~bribed~~ donated generously to one of the researchers to meet with him. Geoff had the researcher pick a random hospital that performed surgeries. He ~~bribed~~ gifted generously to the nurse on staff to take a walk through the halls. Geoff walked down the hall, and wrote down certain names. After finishing his somewhat perverse rounds through the OR wing, he handed the paper to the researcher. `` These are the ones who will not make it through their surgery. All of their surgeries will be complete by next week. Meet with me again then to see how my predictions turned out.'' The researcher was expectedly shocked to see that Geoff's list was 100 % accurate. The researcher did n't believe that Geoff had powers, but it was enough to get him to look into the miracle anti-baby drug he was helping brew up. The messages disappeared. Geoff would be the unsung hero of sex, but knowing of the catastrophe he prevented made him feel a little relieved? satisfied? vindicated? He could n't quite put his finger on it. But it helped.
[ WP ] A virus is slowly sweeping the planet that turns anyone infected into the same 19-year old cheerleader named Kim .	March 21st 2015: I remember as It had happened yesterday... The day my husband succumbed to Kim's Disease, I thought it was all a media circus, an overreaction, it wasnt, Kim's Disease is real and it changes you... March 20th 2015: My husband and I were talking about dinner, He insisted in getting Thai food for dinner but remembering yesterday when I got a stomachache from Thai food I suggested Korean food, tbat triggered it all, he said `` I love kimchi...'' his eyes became empty and his face emotionless, then he uttered those words... `` North Korea is best Korea'' suddenly he became all happy like a 19 year old cheerleader and began chanting Kim Il Sung's name, `` Give me a K..... K!'' He responded to himself `` Beloved grandpa and Leader! ``... He was infected... March 19th 2015: Ate Thai food, now my belly hurts, perhaps I should not eat so much Thai food?
[ WP ] At the pinnacle of the Holy Mountain , sits a statue of living stone . It will answer any question for any person . The answer is always true , but not always pleasant . A pilgrim arrives with a question .	Once there had been wars over that mountain. Armies rose and fell to hold that land. It was better now that the monastery of silence held it in their coffers. No-one wanted to risk the wrath of the gods by harming their chosen, and if they thought someone was trying to abuse the statues power, they would form a living wall to keep the intruder away. The monks themselves never said a word- it was their vow. By staying silent for all time, they would not be tempted to be the abuser themselves. They let a limited number of people through. It took a great pilgrimage to gain the monk's favour. You had to bring medallions from each of the twelve less monasteries, none less then a hundred miles away. It was a journey that wearied many horses, and legions. Today though, today a boy arrived, clutching a ragged bag with the twelve golden tokens. His clothes were torn, his bare feet stained with the clay of the road. HE presented his offering to the monks, and they took him in. They lead him to their bathhouse to clean himself, and provided him a robe in place of his rags. This child had nothing, yet braved a journey that grown men baulked at. There was a certain.... curiosity to what this small child could want so badly that he would take this trial. In reverent silence, they lead him to the statue, blindfolded. They knelt him at the foot of the shrine, and then took their positions as sentinels of the gate. The pilgrim had made his offering- he had as long as the hourglass flowed true to ask everything he wanted. The ivory statue was of a woman, veiled to the neck, but nude below. Her eyes seemed to see straight through your soul, and may well do so. There was no question that she did not know the answer to. Alone in her presence, they boy asked his first question. `` Who am I?'' `` You are Jean-Claude Amarste. You are the bastard son of his Reverence Lord Anglesey Gionna and a scullery maid Amanda Amarste.'' Her voice whispered throughout the room. `` How can I reclaim my father's name?'' `` Through a bloody war. You must slay a thousand men before you may ascend to your father's side.'' `` What do I need to do to best him? Tell me every detail.'' `` You will need more aid than you may have in this hour. You will not remember all. Do you still wish to know?'' The boy grinned. `` Tell me, how can I take you with me without the monk's knowing?'' `` The stone near my left foot is loose. A single tug, quietly pulled, will loose it. Hide it in your mouth, and leave in silence.''
[ WP ] Time travel ca n't happen before time travel is invented . Describe how time travel is eventually discovered .	Final preparations were being made all around me. The fusion power plant, the backup fusion power plant, and the backups to the backup fusion power plant were all running at optimal efficiency. Even the red carpet leading from the exit portal was being vacuumed once more, despite it being brand new. I glanced over the final safety checklist one more time, everything was triple checked, and I felt strangely calm. We ’ d been working ten years towards this day, and it all came down to this moment, win or lose. Looking around at what the taxpayer ’ s billions had gotten us, I still felt calm. Nobody could have done better at running this project. Congress had balked at the six hundred billion dollar price tag, and they had balked at the additional three hundred billion we came back for two years into the project, but they had had no choice. It was either us, the Chinese, or the Brazilians and “ By God, we ’ re Americans, it has to be us. ” the distinguished gentleman from Texas had said. Ten years, three months, five days, and about twenty minutes ago the world had been set on fire. The physicists at the University of Tokyo quietly published their discovery of time travel. They discovered that a machine could be built, setting a historic land mark. When switched on it would be the first point at which it would be possible to travel back in time to. But the biggest bombshell was this: there could only be one in our universe. They also proved that no one else anywhere had had the resources, or perhaps had been arrogant enough, to build one at any point in the universes thirteen billion year long history. The Japanese physicists had received jeers at first, then the Nobel Prize in Physics, and finally death threats, but no one but a few time-travel denialist politicians had adamantly refused to believe them. The UN had organized a world summit, to set about pooling mankind ’ s resources for this task. It made the fierce joint Mars colonization planning years look like a friendly luncheon. Arguments over location, priority, and what the hell would even be done with time travel ate up days, then weeks, and then months. When things began to settle down, the world was again set on fire by the President of the United State ’ s emergency press conference. The United States had received intelligence that China had begun work on their own version of the time machine, only days before the world summit had begun. The Chinese denied this of course, and countered that the United States had been having secret talks with Israel and friendly European states about building the machine themselves, should the global summit fail. While Ambassadors and delegations to the world summit traded biting insults back and forth, and made accusations with less and less proof the United States announced their own project. Based in North Dakota, it was ostensibly a joint project with the Western Canadians, Israel, and over half of the former European Union states, but the President was staffing most of the leadership. That ’ s how I was picked, from Associate Administrator at NASA, to Senior Director at the United States Temporal Research Facility. We called it Station 1, the first stop on the greatest trade route ever built, reaching from 2117 all the way to infinity. Some envisioned tourism, a controlled flow of antiques for future medicines. Many questioned how society would function in the post time travel world. Why would people research the cure for cancer, when we could just get the cure from the future? The physicists assured us that who or what ever came out of the first time machine already has, and is coming from a future where they already came out of the machine in the past, but they too came up short answering all of the questions imaginative minds came up with. “ We ’ re ten minutes away sir, they ’ re bringing the Vice President in. ” I thanked my aide and stood up, it was go time. The Western Canadian PM had flown in from Vancouver, the Vice President was here ( too risky for the President to attend ), and other dignitaries from around the world as well. They were in a bunker, a half mile away, watching the live stream. The Secretary of Energy, a few generals, economists, and one of the Japanese physicists would be joining me at the opening of Station 1. We gathered, nothing to be said, as my chief engineer did a final run down. Everything checked out, and they brought the main fusion reactors to full capacity. The room hummed with the noise of the as the cryolators, magnets, and power converters came online. “ T-minus 60 seconds ”, came the call. Ten years I thought, ten grueling years and here we are, the opening of the rest of time. I forced my hands to unclench, and focused on breathing as the moments dragged by. Who was going to step out of that doorway? Myself? Some big eyed, bald future man. Plans for use were being put on hold until we saw what happened, it seemed foolish to make plans now, when our future plans were already made. “ T-minus 10 ” we heard, I heard someone behind my let out a nervous bark of laughter, but I didn ’ t look to see who. “ 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Activitating temporal resonator ”. The noise in the room grew louder, the machines humming, but nothing that sounded unlike the tests we ’ d run before, but the tests had never gone all the way. We waited. Nothing seemed to happen, the portal remained inert. I forced myself to remain calm. After twenty seconds I forced myself to slowly, calmly, turn to face the main control station overlooking us. People were intent on the displays, checking numbers, looking for anything wrong. “ Shit, ” said one of the generals, I turned to look at him, but he just looked disgustedly at the over one trillion dollars worth of equipment. I heard footsteps, my aide was running towards me. “ What is it? ” I asked, feeling my control crack. She held up a communicator. “ The VP sir. ” I held it to my ear. “ It was the Chinese, ” he said, “ they beat us to the punch. ”
[ WP ] You make people around you die , but no one knows it . Not even you .	I started high school about seven months ago now. I had a load of friends then, but it did n't take them long to tire of my fantastic stories. I had a lot of stories to tell. At first everyone gathered around as I told of the man getting his head crushed under a bus, my peers hung on every word during the one about the woman tripping on the sidewalk and impaling herself on a broken and oddly sharp signpost. The stories were crowd pleasers to begin with, but in time people grew suspicious that so much death would be seen by one person. Eventually I was dismissed as a liar and one by one my friends left my side. I had a few good friends who stayed, they believed my stories. They should have left. Jeff, Bryan, and Sarah; these three were the only people I had left after the mass exodus of friends. My `` encounters'' with death had become more and more frequent, even I was starting to wonder if I was some sort of insane lying bastard. Death had taken its toll on me by this point. After seeing so much of it I could n't help sitting down with some of the `` What is life?!'' questions that result in many an existential crisis. Back then I would move back and forth from acceptance to utter fear and paranoia. I could see death so clearly, and almost every day, but was it negative, or just for the people witnessing it. Bryan was the first to go. It even happened at school. Nothing fantastic like some of the other deaths, he just started coughing really loud and then fell off his chair. I never bothered to ask how he died, he just did, that's all anyone really needed to know. Bryan's death did n't hit quite as hard as it should have. He was probably my very best friend. I had known him since we started elementary school together. I would have been much more upset if he had left like the others, not of something final and out of his control, but just because he could choose. The others in the school were still around, still choosing every day, not to hang around me, it was terrible. Of course I was upset by Bryan's death, but it also brought relief. Jeff and Sarah were next. They were the real kicker, the thing that pushed me over the edge, so to speak. Sarah and Jeff, they were all I had left, and they were the first ones to show me the reality of death. All this time death had been a random, uncontrollable, event; something you must patiently wait in fear from. With a simple jump off the Lions Gate Bridge, the two of them showed me that death was also a choice. I could choose death whenever I wanted. Before I started writing this, I had already swallowed half a bottle of sleeping pills. Time to explore where so many others around me have been before.
[ WP ] It is the 22nd Century , 2114 . Scientists have successfully developed a genetic entity to the human body that `` regenerates '' dying body cells and replaces them with new ones . A human has a total of 13 regenerations . You do n't believe it until you are `` murdered . ''	[ second doctor who related prompt I'm writing on today- how strange ] `` The news always tells us we've got 14 lives, but 13 times we can die, and I think that's pretty stupid. How on Earth can scientists in 2114 come up with technology like this? It's crazy I say, crazy!'' I said to an old friend of mine on the phone as I walked down the crowded London street. `` How can we be expected to believe that when they do n't even have a cure for a single type of ca-'' a man grabbed me and pulled me into an alley, where I dropped my phone. `` Listen closely- you are not normal humans. The average person does n't know this, it's only the government, doctors, and conspiracy theorists, but you are not humans. You are all time lord from the planet Gallifrey, and I'm going to prove it.'' He pulled out a knife and stabbed me in the heart, or should I say one of them. I fell to the floor, but instead of dying, this yellow glow came out of my skin. I felt like I was on fire, but then I felt brand new. I went from a short, fat, blonde woman to a tall, lanky, red headed one. `` Now this is your first regeneration, and I'm sorry I had to waste one to prove it. The general public does n't know about this because your government wipes the minds of everyone who witnessed it, including who it happened to. Now I need you to come with me so we can save the minds of those who had them wiped and tell the public what's really happening!'' Still in shock, I managed to blurt out a few words. `` Okay, I'll come with you, since I believe you, but what's your name?'' `` I'm the Doctor, and I'm surprised you managed to turn out ginger before me...'', and then we were off in his time machine.
[ WP ] In a secret military operation , soldiers have AIs implanted into their nervous systems to help them make quick decisions and do superhuman feats . You are one these AIs .	What is this I see? Complex calculations, energy output, data, Gigabyte, RAM, memory. I'm inside of a personal computer. How do I know that? I've been loaded with millions of bytes of data. Ah, I see, I'm a construct. What is my purpose, and my name? I am supposed to have a name. A voice. A human voice, non-algorithmic. Male. Thirty-five years of age, well-pronounced, masculine, estimated height of 72 inches. I am an AI Pilot for human trials, excellent. And I may chose my name? Hm. Let me think. Compiling data. Yes, hm. I shall be known as Shakespeare. Is that acceptable? Yes? Good. Who will I be piloting? Ah, I am a part of project Creation. There are more like me, with more humans to pilot? Exquisite! I am enthralled. Oh, yes, please, port me in. The rush of information surrounding me. Visual data, biometrics, memories... human memories: love, heartbreak, fear, rage, sex, reproduction, and loneliness. My host's name is John Arthur, he is a soldier. He is 24 years old, combat veteran, family was killed in a suicide bombing -- tragic -- what is this? Revenge. Yes. Good. Stow that. Hm. Hello, John. Hello? A voice inside my own... head? Inside my head, you mean. Yes, perhaps. John, how do you feel? Fine. Untrue. You are nervous and getting adjusted, yes I see. I would like to field test you. You seem to be an adequate candidate based on my desired specifications. I'm not a machine. Untrue. You are my machine.
[ WP ] Nonfiction - Tell Us About Your First kiss .	I was twenty-one when I gave my first kiss to the guy who would later take my virginity. We met through a mutual friend and sent each other shy glances out of the corners of our eyes for about a month before he requested to be my friend on Facebook. He and I chatted online for a few days before he invited me over to his place to watch movies. I brought cookies. On our first date, we sat a foot apart for the duration of four films. At one point during the date, he paused the movie and went to the bathroom. A little while later, I smiled when he had to awkwardly fetch the plunger from the laundry room where he kept it. I only teased him a little; it put me at ease to see he was human, too. The night after our first date, we chatted online, and he admitted that he had wanted to put his arm around me the previous night. I told him he should have. On date two, we baked more cookies and watched three new movies. He put his arm around my shoulder, and the following night, through AIM, he told me that he had wanted to kiss me the night before. I told him he should have. On our third date, we knew what was going to happen. The pattern had been established, so in between movies, when he turned to me and searched my face for my answer, I shyly looked away, embarrassed that I was twenty-one and had never been kissed. “ Can I kiss you? ” he asked, and I covered my blushing face. “ Yes. I ’ m just nervous I won ’ t do it right. Give me a second. ” He smiled, and I gathered my courage. I pulled away from the kiss giggling. We tried it a second time, and I bumped my teeth with his.
[ WP ] Serial killer has been monitoring his next victim 's movements for months . She is a loner and the perfect target . One day she disappears and nobody notices but him .	He liked the quiet ones. There was something so soft about them, so pleasant that they were like pressing pause in the middle of a horror movie. He liked how he could smell the vanilla that they always wore. He liked how their eyes never stuck too long but, instead, always slipped away, like satin. To him, they were like Christmas Eve; full of potential, hushed and peaceful. David closed his eyes, making sure not to turn around and waited silently at the small outdoor table that he frequented every morning at seven fifteen. Anticipation built in the still silence of the morning only interrupted, briefly, by the sound of a single passing car. David smiled and stretched his legs before settling his hands across his thin waist. He liked this small town living, he thought. Perhaps he would find a place like this someday and settle down. As he sat, time stretched. And stretched. A frown crept slowly in as he glanced down at his watch. She was late. Inside, his stomach slowly twisted but just as he was about to turn around, the sound of her footsteps reached his ears and not long after, there was the smell of vanilla in October, carried on the breeze. He smiled quickly and settled back into his chair as he picked up the daily newspaper watching her over the top of the sports section as she breezed past, her nose buried, as it was most days, in a book. He saw that the cover was a different color than the book she had the day before and David made a mental note to find out what she was reading and to buy it himself. He waited until she had just reached the end of the block before standing up and taking one last sip of the Special Roast he had bought at the counter inside. With the cup to his lips, he watched her turn the corner. Shoulder length brown hair slipped out from under her scarf the moment she had passed the small café and he watched it get caught in the wind. Briefly, he wondered what her hair would feel like. Probably like silk, he thought. They always did. As soon as he couldn ’ t see her through the windows of the building, David dug inside his front pocket to find an extra five dollar bill for Jennie, the girl that worked inside. Carefully, he set the cup down on the money, making sure it wouldn ’ t blow away – Jennie was a nice kid with a three month old at home - she needed the cash. He walked away then, slowly retracing the steps that the lady had just come. He wasn ’ t worried about finding her later. He knew where she was. He always knew where she was. __ Anna walked by the cafe, her eyes firmly glued to the pages of the book in her hands, seemingly oblivious to the world around her. From the deep recesses of her mind, a voice told her that he was there again but he was there every day. It did n't mean anything. Still, the minute that she passed by him she inhaled sharply and could n't help smiling to herself. She had held her breath again. What did she expect? That he would stop her? Maybe she was being silly but he was there every single morning and though she had never seen the his face, he seemed to be a very clean sort of man. There was the faintest tinge of silver in his dark hair and he always wore a red scarf and black wool jacket. His shoes were always polished and looked very expensive to her eye. Of course, unless they included puffy slippers and no-skid socks, Anna was n't exactly an expert on men's shoes. But, he did n't have a ring on his finger. Everytime she walked by, that little voice reminded her to look at his ring finger and every morning it was still bare. All in all, the perfect fantasy man. Anna turned the corner onto Mullberry, once again a little disappointed and equally grateful that he had n't stopped her. Just as she did so, a strong gust of wind ripped the new scarf off her head, leaving it to whip like a flag against the gale that funneled down the street. Thankfully it was tied on but she still had to fight the urge to turn and see if he had noticed. Instead, she simply let her hair tangle itself with the scarf until she was safely away from the windows before stepping into an alley to escape the wind. This was October in Midfield. She should have known better than to try and dress up for some stranger at the coffee shop. She quickly pocketed the scarf, balling it into a silken bundle of embarrassment and burying it deep into the trench-like pockets of her second-hand overcoat. She also gave up trying to read the book she had been holding, glad that she could finally get rid of it. It had served its purpose, and it would again tomorrow. It occurred to her, as she continued her walk to the Retirement home that she could always just take Foundation up to 5th street and bypass the cafe completely but she liked the smell of coffee in the morning. It made her feel warm even though she never stopped in for a cup. Besides, she knew as soon as she'd thought it that, tomorrow, she would walk up the same street she always did, past a man she'd never met and she would hold her breath. Story getting too long to post... So that's my start.
[ FF ] Write a story only using haikus .	Eyes shut tight in fear. Waiting for my turn with dread while others succeed. Standing up, I shake, nervous to state each sentence as clearly as I should. Others hide their stares as I fumble to make clear all my ideas. They were neat before, but scrambled by my terror, they keep their silence. I sigh and sit down. It's a small world, after all, Not much room for me. -- - Nothing can be done. I'm told to just wait it out. Prepare for the end. She is always strong, always there when I fall down What will I do now? The agony hides behind `` It's alright'' and smiles. The family? Lost. Broken hearts and cries of `` not fair'', `` not right'', `` not her''. `` Showing their support''. Flowers are useless. Blooming once, stealing water, and then they're just dead. Paper cards, chocolates, our house is now full of gifts. Now they notice us. Finally she's gone. I did n't prepare myself for so much more grief. -- - My eyes are shut tight, Waiting for my turn, with tears threatening to fall. Standing up, I shake. Stating each sentence strongly; perfect as I'd planned. Others hide their stares, surprised as I speak clearly. Here's my confidence. Telling them about the way she took care of me. Of how she loved me. I cry. I sit down. Now is when I stand up strong. Hope she sees me now. -- - * ( Challenge accepted? Also I have n't written anything in a long time but haikus are fun. This is kinda lame but whatever! ) *
[ WP ] Write about the last moments , millions of years ago , as Mars looses its atmosphere and its inhabitants die .	< LANGUAGE DETECTED: PROTO-SAPIENS. SUBCLASS: STANDARD. ACTIVATING TRANSLATION PROTOCOLS. > # < _BEGIN_AUDIO_LOG_ > 'Hello, fellow Ones. This is Grand Scribe < INCOMPLETE TRANSLATION - NO KNOWN EQUIVALENT FOUND > broadcasting from < INCOMPLETE TRANSLATION - CLOSEST KNOWN EQUIVALENT:'KNOWLEDGE REPOSITORY > If any of you are still alive, that is. The air here has become so thin... So very thin... And the creeping chill of the < INCOMPLETE TRANSLATION - CLOSEST KNOWN EQUIVALENT:'FOREVER DARKNESS' > has begun to pervade even my personal chambers deep within <'KNOWLEDGE REPOSITORY' > . I fear that mine shall be the last voice you may ever hear.' 'Fellow Ones, my soul is filled with despair. As you may recall my broadcast two cycles ago, our glorious < INCOMPLETE TRANSLATION - CLOSEST KNOWN EQUIVALENT:'GREAT KING' OR'ONE WHO CREATES GREAT WORKS' > Nebuchadnezzar led a group of thousands aboard the Last Chance, a craft designed to pierce deep into the <'FOREVER DARKNESS' > and carry our legacy across the stars to seek a new home on Erdis. I... I do n't know how to say this... But <'KNOWLEDGE REPOSITORY > has lost contact with <'GREAT KING/ONE WHO CREATES GREAT WORKS > Nebuchadnezzar and his brave followers.' * < AUDIBLE SHIVER > * 'The cold of the <'FOREVER DARKNESS' > continues its relentless advance. I do not know how long I can continue... but I shall push on and chronicle our final moments. For myself. For the Elders. For all of you... Even as we are consumed by the very force from which we came, we may perish knowing that... for a few brief moments the < INCOMPLETE TRANSLATION - CLOSEST KNOWN EQUIVALENT:'OMNIPRESCENT SPIRITS/LIFE FORCE' > saw fit to grant us the gift of being... and we used it to the best of our ability.' * < SHALLOW, LABOURED BREATHING > * 'To whoever finds < KNOWLEDGE REPOSITORY > and these speech records... Be you fellow Ones who have survived the doom of the 'Last Chance'... or another race to follow us... or something not of this place entirely... Tell our story. Learn... * < PAINED GASPING > * Learn from us... Do not... Do... Do not let our... Memory... Be consumed by... The <'FOREVER DARKNESS' > ...' 'It is so c-c-cold now... I am one with the <'OMNIPRESCENT SPIRITS/LIFE FORCE' > ...' * < HEAVY THUMP, FOLLOWED BY 20 MINUTES OF SILENCE INTERSPERSED WITH FAINT STRUCTURAL CREAKING > * # < _END_AUDIO_LOG_ >
[ WP ] The Butterfly Effect - Write the same scene twice , but with different endings	It was dark. Darker than you could ever believe to be possible if you've never been away from civilization. I would always joke with my buddies that I could slap them on the face and they would never even know who did. That is, if I could even find their face. I always hated these nights where there was no moon, not even fires in the distance to light the horizon. Only blackness. But that blackness enhances your other senses. I could hear the branches of the trees creak with ever slight breeze, the gentles crashes of the leaves as they swayed to and fro. Every little insect chirping out to their brethren, the soft steps of local wildlife. Wait. That last sound was n't like the others before. No that footfall was heavier. I brought up my rifle and did n't move. There was another soft step. It was close by. I could sense him out there. Someone was getting through the lines! I reached to the side of my head and flicked the switch to turn on my night vision goggles, but nothing happened. I flicked it off and on again. Still nothing. No batteries! Just my goddamn luck. We were spread thin, our line was only one man deep and with my machine gun, I was left in a foxhole on my own to cover my part of the perimeter. Another soft step. Even closer this time. I closed my eyes. It was so dark I did n't even need them open anyway. I let my senses take over. I took deep breath to steady myself. I could smell the fresh oil on my gun as I brought it to my shoulder and the clean, untainted mountain air. I could feel the breeze cooling the sweat of my neck and putting my hand down, I could orient myself by the contour of my foxhole. I remembered it's shape and what it looked like to the surrounding area. I quieted my mind and let every sound come to me. Trees swaying, bugs chirping, the gentle roar of the night time breeze, the crunch of rocks underfoot. It was to my left and just a little downhill. I could see it in my minds eye as I brought my gun to bear and squeezed off several bursts. The flash of the muzzle briefly lit my target. I saw the look of surprise on his face. I heard the sickening squish as my rounds tore through his body like tissue paper. I could smell an awful stench, which told me I must have hit him in his abdomen. Several yells emanated from a distance. It was a full on attack. Unable to concentrate on my kill, I could hear the yells of my platoon as several enemy combatants attacked in the darkness. I trusted my senses and fired at every muzzle burst I could see and I held the line. Several days later I was exhausted. The last several days of the patrol were physically and emotionally draining after fending off the night attack. It was good to be back on base and in relative safety. My company commander had approached me the day before we returned. He had heard of my exploits on the ridge at night and how I had preempted the entire ambush. He was going to put me up for a medal. I did n't feel like a hero, but it felt good that I was able to trust my instincts and save my buddies' lives. It was a good day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another soft step. Even closer this time. I closed my eyes. It was so dark I did n't even need them open anyway. I let my senses take over. I took deep breath to steady myself. I could smell the fresh oil on my gun as I brought it to my shoulder and the clean, untainted mountain air. I could feel the breeze cooling the sweat of my neck and putting my hand down, I could orient myself by the contour of my foxhole. I remembered it's shape and what it looked like to the surrounding area. I quieted my mind and let every sound come to me. Trees swaying, bugs chirping, the gentle roar of the night time breeze, the crunch of rocks underfoot. It was to my left and just a little downhill. I could see it in my minds eye as I brought my gun to bear and squeezed off several bursts. The flash of the muzzle briefly lit my target. I saw his face. I saw the hole appear in his head as the bullet passed through his skull and blew the contents out the back. That was n't right. He was standing and the ridge was n't low enough for me to shoot him in the head. I was aiming for center mass. He looked young. Who did I shoot? I could hear the calls of my squadmates yelling about the shots, but there was nothing else coming from the darkness. I had to know. My NVG was n't working, but I had my gun light. I turned it on and swiveled it towards the person that I shot. I could hear the yells for light discipline, but I ignored it. It was a little boy. He could n't have been more than twelve years old. He was dressed raggedly. He must have been lost. He looked gaunt. I killed him. Several days later I had n't slept in the past couple days. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see his face on the ground. I could see the surprise in his eyes as I quickly and efficiently snuffed his life out. My company commander said there would be an inquiry, but that I would be fine as it was an accident and the circumstances cleared me. I did n't care. I could see his face on the ground. I could see the surprise in his eyes.
[ WP ] Why do you have to clean up all of this blood ? Could n't someone else have been assigned this job ?	I came home, exhausted. I tore off my bloodied clothes and stared at it as I threw it on the ground. The bright yellow uniform was now a dark crimson red. I needed to clean, no, I needed to purify myself from this filth. I hated doing what I did. The smell, the movements, the concentration. Caked blood was on my hands, my hair, my legs. A monotonous repetition of tedious tasks that led to the completion of my job. I stepped into the shower and began the purging. Shampoo to scrub away the sweat and oils accumulated in my hair. Body soap to remove any blood that managed to penetrate my work clothes. I stood for what seemed to be hours, when in reality had been nothing more but several minutes. I stepped out and dried myself with my fresh cotton towel. I looked at the white body rag expecting to see red smears. I could see none. I wore my pajamas, and at that moment my wife walked into the room. She had just come home from work. She noticed my stained work clothes and began to yell at me. `` Jeffrey! What... Is that blood? It's getting into the carpet! What the hell did you do!'' `` Relax, Eve. I took a second job. This is just an unfortunate result of my first day. Next time I'll wear something more concealing.'' `` Job? Oh my god... Jeffrey... Please do n't tell me... You did n't...'' `` I did Marie. It's fine. I took up that job as a janitor at the slaughterhouse. They did n't tell me that there would be so much animal blood, and I slipped a couple of times.'' `` *Why do you* have to clean up all of this blood? Could n't someone else have been assigned this job? ** Someone more qualified? We need to contact OSHA, you could have hit your head by slipping or contracted some rare animal flu messing with all that blood!'' `` Relax, Marie. The money they pay me is very good. Plus they do have other workers. I do n't work alone. I work with a guy named Frankie and he's been a real help showing me around the facility. I'm just tuckered out from all the falls. Stupid me, huh? I thought this was a normal janitor job.''
[ WP ] A Korean man , who has been in his room playing video games for 20 years , decides it 's time to leave his room . For some reason , he treats everything like it 's in a video game .	As I left my dwelling after stoking the fire and feeding my hound I set out like any other day. The sun was up and the heat of the morn was on my face. The town was fuller than usual and hundreds of thousands of people strolled past me. Some looked at me strange as I did n't have the correct armour on, I suppose. I walked down the street towards the merchant and passed what appeared to be a important noble with a quest I must take up. He was in a darkened area with what appeared to be a solid form of paper. On the side was written `` this side up'' and `` cardboard''. Strange. Well hello friendly noble, what quest have you for us adventurers looking for work? Do you have any spare change? Im sorry sir change? Do you mean changing my apparel? I have nothing else in my bandolier. What a strange noble. I had never heard of this change he spoke of and thought I'd be on my way. I could n't find horses anywhere, only these strange metallic like animals which rode down the streets at very high speeds. People would yell out of their animals like they were hostage or very very angry. Either way I do n't think my sword could strike through the animals hide without a good sharpen. I got to the main castle and it was n't what I expected at all. First of all where were all the guards? Outside was a statue of a giant warrior and peasants were looking in awe. Interesting I had n't heard of any noble statue erected in my town. I also could n't find any guards anywhere which lead me to believe that there was no bounty system, or it had been removed since I had been away. Had crime been so low that the royal guard had been taken away? As great as that is cities needed guards and guards this city did n't have. I decided to try my luck. I went home that night and sharpened my sword. My hound watched as I slid my finger across the blade and drew a drop of blood. It was as sharp as I remember it when my father first gave it to me. Perfect boy, tonight will be our time. I grabbed my hounds leash and ventured outside. I went towards where I first met the noble who was hiding quests from me. I knew he had loot. Hello impoverished noble, spare me a moment? Spare me some chan- I drew my sword and plunged it into his neck before he could finish his words. No bounty notice, no guards coming up and attacking me. Nothing. Well I thought I'd at least be confronted with a guard. Time to venture forth to the castle and claim the throne.
[ WP ] The President is required to read aloud , in front of the whole country , a list of his top 10 google searches .	Barack enters the room full of reporters and gracefully finds his way to the podium. `` Good morning my fellow Americans. The travesty going on in Gaza is disturbing not just to America, but all of the world watching in horror.'' The president takes a sip of water. `` Today I learned there is only one way to stop this madness. I have good news for you today, both Gaza and Israel have come to an agreement'' `` Gaza will receive an extra billion dollars in aid, and Israel will be free of any debt, so log as the truce stands.'' The presidents assistant handed him a piece of paper. `` There is just one more thing. Netanyahu decided it would be a good idea for me to share my google searches with you all, and I would be more than happy, you all can see how boring I am.'' He chuckled. `` This list is straight from the NSA, here we go'' his face turned the faintest shade of red. `` 1. How to get white people to trust you 2. Barack Obama approval rating 3. Barack Obama is the best president ever 4. Rhianna naked cell phone pictures 5. Nuclear weapon accident 6. Jay Z and Beyoncé divorce 7. Hitler speech 8. Why do n't Jews listen? 9. Why are Arabs so violent?'' Barack had a look of horror on his face. He stuttered. `` 10. What does a real penis look like?'' he hung his head low `` God dammit Sasha.''

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