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[ WP ] Every time you wake up , you wake up in a slightly different reality , with changes normally too small to notice . Today , however , as you 're drinking your morning coffee , you look out the window , and something does n't seem quite right . . .
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I sat up in bed. What day of the week was it today? I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and squinted at the screen. With an exasperating sigh, I realized I still could n't see the screen, and fumbled around for my glasses.
`` Where in the hell... Ah. Here they are.'' I put my glasses on, relishing the snug fit that resulted from a trip to the eyeglasses store the previous evening after work.
Today was Saturday, which essentially meant I had zero responsibilities for the day. That is, until my wife walked in.
`` Hey honey,'' she said, leaning in the doorway of the bedroom. `` Up and at'em. We have to go the mall and my mother's today. We got ta get moving soon.''
I groaned. `` Sure, just let me get changed and grab breakfast. Meet you downstairs.'' I hated my life at times, felt like I was stuck in an endless loop. Work the weekdays at a job I hate, and save everything else I do n't want to do for the weekend. I could n't complain, I guess. At least it was consistent.
Sitting at the dining room table, I had my daily breakfast of boring grains in exciting shapes and my hot cup of coffee. I did n't read the newspaper these days; all these news agencies trying to convince everyone the world is ending so they can sell more papers to secure their future. Makes me sick.
The day more or less passed as expected, and soon enough Sunday morning rolled around. I went through the same routine; yawn, stretch, squint, nagging wife. I sat down at the table just like I had yesterday. My wife brought over my breakfast as I stared out the window.
`` Coffee is n't quite done yet. Should be done in a minute. I'm gon na go hop in the shower before we head off to Jake's to help him with those gutters,'' she said, caressing my shoulder. I looked up with an acknowledging smile, adjusting my glasses as they slid slightly down my nose.
As she headed towards the bedroom to gather her things, the coffee maker dinged. I stared out the window as I poured it into my cup, dreading spending several hours outside in this hot, humid weather. I sat back down at the table, still staring out the window as I took a sip of my coffee, unexpectedly coughing when I did so.
It was cold.
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[ WP ] According to your test answers , social media profile , and collected gaming scores ; the career that 's best suited for you is Space Pirate Hunter . Please wait outside for pick-up as a Galactic Enforcement vessel has already been dispatched .
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“ Ouch! ” the boy screamed as the tiny headset was inserted into his ear by a small metallic ball.
“ Hello. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you to the Galactic Enforcement hunting unit. ” said a voice in the headset in a very deep and serious tone. “ Wha..What? Who are you? ” said the boy with extreme uneasiness. “ I am the Head of Hunting Operations, Zacharias Walters. ” the voice responded. “ Now, Thomas, please do not be alarmed. You are in good hands, and your parents have been informed and shortly they will be arriving to the vessel. ” Zacharias continued. “ But, why am I here? Why me? ” Thomas replied, now shouting and intensely staring at the small ball of metal lying on his bed. “ Well, you meet the criteria of course! ” Zacharias laughed. “ You see, we at Galactic Enforcement recruit thirty people every year. Each are split up into different units depending on their skills. And, your video gaming skills are quite the asset to us hunters at GE. ” “ But, why me? ” Thomas repeated, somewhat annoyed now. “ Well, we ’ ve collated all of your test answers, social media profiles and gaming scores. It ’ s the same for every other child over the country when they turn sixteen years old. Of course, the government don ’ t tell you this information. Otherwise it would be useless, seeing as most of our work at GE involves a lot of responsibility and work under a lot of secrecy. ” At this, Thomas took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He frowned repetitively, trying to make sense of it all. To most people Thomas would be described as unhealthy. The short boy sat upright on the end of his bed, rubbing his dark-circled eyes. He reached for his lamp, which illuminates his pale skin, confirming his unhealthy aesthetics. “ So, how do I get to this..uh…vessel? ” questioned Thomas. Almost instantly after the words left his mouth, the ball of metal that was on his bed shot upwards to a stationary hover and a previously concealed side panel glowed a bright cyan colour. “ You touch the light on the GE collector. ” answered Zacharias. “ That thing? ” Thomas said, while pointing to the glowing ball as if Zacharias could see him through the headset. Zacharias laughed and responded “ Exactly that, Thomas. ” After around ten seconds of hesitation, Thomas finally mustered the courage to slowly edge his hand into the light. As his hand was swallowed by the light, he simultaneously lost consciousness.
“ Welcome to the Galactic Enforcement Hunting Vessel! ” some kind of robot screamed in the unconscious Thomas ’ face. His eyes then slowly peeled open, presenting a glowing ship the kind you see on the Sci-Fi movies that fly in space. With a blink or two, Thomas then opened his eyes fully and took a sweeping panoramic view of his surroundings. “ It…it ’ s beautiful. ” Thomas gasped as the view of The Milky Way galaxy filled his bright blue eyes. “ Is this real? ” he asked.
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[ WP ] : A mad scientist finds a method to shut off what makes us human . Expecting chaos and anarchy , he releases it upon the world . Unfortunately , `` being human '' was not exactly what he thought it was .
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Entry 7 since the release of the P0WN3D virus.
Still no lethal after effects, they just look lost. I expected something like kindness or empathy to disapear, leading to mass murders and things like that, it could be fun. I expected love to disapear and all emotional links between individuals collapse. I expected hope to disapear and mass suicide occur. I even expected bad things to disapear and feared an unexpected utopia.
But no, I was wrong when I expected something I had n't to disapear from mankind, despite all my efforts and cynism I'm still a part of mankind and the only thing that could vanish had to be a part of me.
So what happend? The ability to create and understand fiction was detroyed by my virus. Outside of my bunker, all those dummies are brainfucked by the last century of mass entertainment medias, they do n't understand all those contradictory historical records and legions of researchers are deployed to reconstruct what was the history of the humanity. One day they will try to search the internet and probably do some kind of VCA, yay I successed to kill some guys.
They treat eveyrthing as accurate documentaries, satellites try to find the middle earth and westeros, nobody understand why magic stoped working a week ago, actors are interned for multiple personalities, politician are now honest...
I totally screwed my pandemic apocalypse, next time I'll just lanch my missiles hiddens in the easter isle moais.
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[ WP ] You are an innkeeper in an RPG and get yelled at because sleeping there does not heal wounds .
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`` Delphine runs the inn. I cook. Ai n't much else to tell.''
The traveler stands in front of me, Bosmer, his eyes a deep orange. He'd come in late last night, asking for a room. I'd gladly obliged, he'd paid the fare of ten septims, and went straight to his room. There did n't seem to be any problems, and yet now his eyes were ablaze with anger.
`` Do you see this?'' The traveler pulled open a tear in his fur armor, revealing a deep red slash across his chest. `` Snow bear. Tore right through the armor. My stitches kept coming out on the way back to Riverwood, Shadowmere does n't offer much in the way of comfort.''
I waited for him to continue, I sensed this was leading to something, but I was n't sure what.
`` Would you like a potion to help you with that? You should head to the Riverwood Trader, they might have something you could use.'' I chimed.
`` I do n't want any of your damned potions! I came here to *recover* from this horseshit! I payed you my damn ten gold, now why is this still here!?'' The traveler yelled, pointing to his bleeding slash. `` It's going to leave a scar at this rate! Not that I do n't have plenty those, but it hurts like hell!''
`` I'm sorry to hear that.'' My voice was now bitter. `` But our beds are n't enchanted and wo n't heal your wounds overnight.''
`` You... what? Of course they are!'' The Bosmer's eyes grew narrow in anger. `` I've slept here before, my wounds have always disappeared after a full night's sleep!''
`` Perhaps you were hitting skooma the nights previous?''
Alvor chuckled at his table.
`` You listen to me you son of a bitch!'' The Bosmer's voice rose. `` *Every* other inn i've been to has healed me overnight, without fail. Either you're shitting on my day for some bloody reason, or the Daedra have cursed this place. Either way, i'm not leaving here without my ten gold.''
`` At first I found this amusing, but now you want your coin back?'' I leered. `` I never said my beds would be enchanted, you're in no right to make such a request. Now get the hell out of here before I call the guards, and get over that bloody bear cut!''
`` Really? Have you ever been clawed by a bear before? It's worse than a dragon. I'd rather fight ten dragons than a single snow bear. At least I get the satisfaction of absorbing a dragon's soul after i'm done killing it. Now I have to come home from a tiresome bear fight, to *your* sorry ass, telling me that I should've known your beds would n't heal me up anymore!''
I smiled. `` Ah, the Dragonborn, I knew I recognised you. Expect me to drop to your feet and kiss them? Wipe the tears from your cheeks? Spend my life savings on a black soul gem so I can enchant my beds to heal your poor, scratched, milk-drinking skin?''
The tavern roared with laughter, the Dragonborn's cheeks growing red.
`` You know what? Fuck you! Fuck your tavern! **FUS RO DAH! ** Go fuck yourselves!'' Upon the utterance of the ancient dragon words, an entire table is lifted from the ground and shatters against the stone wall of the tavern. The Dragonborn storms over to the exit.
`` Come on, Serana. Let's get the hell out of here.''
The heavy wooden door slams shut, leaving a bunch of laughing nords and an unfortunate mess behind. I sigh and grab my broom. Another hard day in Skyrim.
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[ WP ] “ I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought , but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones. ” - Albert Einstein
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`` What are you reading now? Albert Einstein?'' Grabbing the book from the boy's hand he threw it against the wall. `` Get back to your proper studies. You think you'll survive this world without learning how to skin that deer?''
`` Please do n't make me do that Dad. I ca n't. Ca n't someone else just do it?'' The son whimpered.
`` What happens when you're alone?''
`` I ai n't ever gon na be alone!'' The son began to wail loudly, desperately trying to explain his contempt of separating the skin from an animal.
Sighing, the father went to pick up the book. Flipping open the biographies' table of contents to find quotations. `` Did you see this quote, son?'' The father held the book in front of the child's face, and pointed to the quote, `` I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.''
`` Einstein got it wrong. There will never be a World War IV, James. The world's too big, war ca n't exist. There's just survival. We'll be more than lucky to survive that long in this hell we've created. Come, You will skin the deer.''
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[ WP ] You tried to commit suicide , but as it turns out you are immortal . Now you have to call someone to help you cut the rope . Awkward .
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This one is for the HIGHLANDER fans-
I always knew I was different. Never fitting in... growing up a ward of the state. Never knowing where I came from. An orphan, alone against the world from the very beginning. Upon turning 18 and heading out into the world I had tried to make a go of it, but nothing ever seemed to work out. Last week, The only girl I had ever tried to love had left me and after an epic night of binge drinking I had decided to wander into the woods and kill myself. I slung a rope over the tallest tree branch I could find, tied the other end around my neck, and....jumped. The last thing I heard was the crack of my own neck and then everything went black... until I woke up. That was four days ago, and I've been swinging here ever since. I keep trying to call for help, but the rope around my neck is pretty tight and its hard to make much sound.
Suddenly... I feel it. That odd sensation that had plagued me all my life. That vague feeling of unease... as if someone were watching me. I usually felt it in crowds, or when I was traveling, and had always chalked it up to anxiety but now....I swear, its almost like I could FEEL someone, just at the edges of my perception. I managed to croak out a weak cry for help... and heard someone stomping through the trees below me. I couldnt see who it was, due to the rope and the angle of my neck, but suddenly the woods were filled with the strangers laughter. `` Hold on squirt... I'll get you down''. The man began to climb the tree, and suddenly I felt the rope snap as I plunged to the ground. Oh god... what if the fall kills me? A silly thing to think, considering the circumstances, but I was sober now and thoughts of suicide were the furthest thing from my mind. I just wanted to go home and forget this had ever happened. Still laughing, my savior jumped down from the tree and landed beside me.
`` Thank you''... I managed to croak. He offered me his hand and pulled me up. `` What the hell were you doing up there kid? Did somebody string you up like that? You get caught stealing somebodies chickens or sleeping with somebodies girl?''. Miraculously, my neck didnt even hurt....now that the rope was gone, I felt better than ever. With my voice returned, I explained rather sheepishly that I had been trying to kill myself. `` Kill yourself? ``, the stranger proclaimed...'' How the hell did you think that would kill yourself? It would take more than that to take your head off!''. Take my head off? What the hell? Didnt this idiot understand? Seeing the look of confusion on my face, he laughed again... darker this time. `` Holy hell boy....you dont even know what you are, do you? That was your first death!''. And then he tells me. He tells me... finally... what I am and where I come from. He tells me of rules and holy ground... of swords and something called a Quickening. He tells me his name, and that he has been alive and roaming this earth for 400 years. And as crazy as it all sounds... I believe him. With tears in my eyes... I believe him. I finally know who I am. I finally know where I belong. And then... he pulls out a sword from his long coat, and tells me there can be only one. Only one what, I wonder? As I turn to ask, I see his sword coming right for me, and then everything goes black again.
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[ WP ] A plague has wiped out the entire population of the earth—except for me . For months , I tried to carry on , but the loneliness was too much . Finally , unable to take it anymore , I am about to commit suicide—when there is a knock at the door .
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Alone.
I am actually alone. No one in the world has ever been as alone as I am right now... or will after me. Huh, I ’ m the last human. The last person. Which means everything I do today is the last time it will ever be done. It also means, that no one will be there to remember when the last things happened, when the last Hot Pocket was eaten, when the last nap was taken, and when the last man on earth finally ended it all. Or who he was. Damn, I ’ m the last man alive, an amazing feat in and of itself, and no one will remember it. I am the last man standing, which in retrospect, is n't actually all that great. Hell, even the voices in my head that sprung up out of loneliness have gone.
I am going to kill myself. In a single pull of this little trigger, I will finally put humanity on the extinct list. A list, that no one will ever write. Here I am, about to punctuate the final sentence, in humanities ’ brutal, short and rather depressing chapter in the history of the universe. A smoking period, the quill: an old pistol I found scavenging for food. God, are n't I melodramatic.
As I placed the cool metal to my temple I had a moment of clarity. A moment of absolute realization. Guns are actually rather heavy when your muscles have atrophied. As I click the hammer back, I try to come up with some good last words. Not that it matters, but still. After settling on a choice few, ( I could n't even think of anything original, just a line from Slaughterhouse Five. How lame is that? The last living man quoting a man long dead. ) I pulled back the hammer and breathed. “ And so it- ”
There was... a knock coming from my door. A knock. My mind playing tricks again. I summoned up my resolve again. “ And so it- ” Again, a loud banging from my door. “ Ignore it. ” I grumbled and started again, now agitated and infuriated. “ And so it- ” again the knock. “ Oh alright, alright! I ’ ll humor you delusions. Why not? ” I got up and walked to the door and opened it.
I was greeted by a tall specter, dressed in black, and in a voice that seemed to echo out into infinity, a voice that I felt in that reptilian fight-or-flight region of my brain it spoke: “ John Michael Smith? ”
“ Y-yes? ”
“ You ’ re damned hard to find. ” Death said.
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[ WP ] The lesser gods of various pantheons have joined together to unionize .
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Reality wheeled circuitously below, a whirlpool of exotic radiation and starlight and ideas and dreams and death—and the earth stood out prominently on this celestial theater-stage, not isolated but nevertheless alone. The silky, black liquid—containing all of time and space—rolled and broke in waves around a marble natatorium, oblong, looking like a magical pill constantly imploding.
Arching overhead, above the gathered party, the firmament shone ghost-white—warm, ethereal, almost translucent. And the walls ( there but not there ) in beautiful contrast, towered tall and black as onyx—foreboding, gently threatening, entombing.
Inscribed in every surface were intricate designs, cuneiform set to the cosmos—a language foreign to all the Great beings present but completely digestible, pleasant: almost understated in their sheer simplicity, yet brushing the conceited in their complication.
Each rune hummed with a potential energy capable of erasing a god—to be here was an agreement, to renege on the unspoken deal was to invite destruction, if not death. There wasn ’ t any *true* way to kill even one of these archaic beings.
The Greeks, objectively appealing and ostensibly charming. His Kind, brooding and sullen. The gods of Hindu, serene-seeming and quietly friendly. The Japanese *Kami*, alternately free-spirited and rigid. And dozens of others.
Every contingent seemed to have some representation, and the resulting group made for a spectacular show. And not just because of the sparkling pageantry gods so loved to display.
Not just because of the blatant exhibitions of power—though petty as every illusion and trick was, they were also entertaining as all Hel.
Not just because they were all different in subtle ways… but because there was so much *conflict*. The frenzy of conversation sent his brain into a buzz like good drink and all the posturing, all the dick-swinging—damn, he forgot how bad he missed varied, divine company.
The agreed-upon spokesperson, a being whose true origin was unknown but whose identity: mundane, lounged by the pool—feet submerged, swinging with little care for what she struck. Death apparently appeared different to each creature who would look upon her, even her gender was fluid.
To him, of course, she looked to be a 19-year-old girl: not unattractive, but nothing to start a war over; pale-skinned, blonde-haired, wide-mouthed, blue-eyed. And in her bellyshirt and jean shorts, just leaning back against the marble floor, she looked *relaxed*.
At home in the chaos of the gods.
Some Greek god of anger or wrath approached Death and crouched down, stiff in his motions. He spoke in a stilted kind of way, as if after every word he expected a fight to break out between himself and the person he was talking to. Their words slipped beneath the cacophony of mewling beasts, pets of these powerful beings, and the various conversations and arguments that constantly rang out.
Whatever the god had said, though, seemed to rouse the curiosity of other groupings. More Greeks stepped forward, not exactly backing the wrath god—in fact their collective reaction seemed more like watching a disliked cousin approach and then attack a much bigger, meaner kid. They were preparing for the god to get smote or something, and their shallow, secretly-bestial smiles—sometimes light hit them funny and feral shapes would be standing in their place—spoke to some malicious glee, mischievous anticipation.
Loki shivered in excitement. He hated them and he loved them because of it, because of how addictive he knew it was. He hated them because, as strong as the addiction was, the withdrawal was 2000-times worse.
Death stood, flickering in his vision, shifting to another spectrum for only a moment—and that moment was all he needed to fully feel the weight behind Death ’ s movements, the “ sword ” this *thing* wielded, the red button shining beneath Its finger. Parts, neglected in recent times—power-lust, envy, desire, fury—stirred within him, but they were weak, and like him, they were dying quickly. Like all of them, like all the others.
She was a 19-year-old again, a willowy kid basking in the heat of hundreds of deific figures. Her voice cut through everything—the speaking, the snuffling of beasts, the whirl of the celestial water.
“ I have just been notified by a very anxious someone that you ’ re all just about ready to begin. ” This, in her clear, satin-smooth voice, was said with no small amount of irony. She threw the wrath god a mocking look, then turned back to gaze out over the pool. Most everyone lined the area around the water, some wary to step close, lest they should plummet down towards the earth—others, like Loki, knew it for what it was: an illusion, and were right up on the edge. “ Is that the general consensus? Are you all ‘ just about ready to begin ’? ”
That was a quote, he realized. Her delivery was too caustic for it to be anything else. He got *why* she was insulting him—to a being such as Death, impatience is among the many offensive antitheses—but it did n't exactly seem like the time or place. Then again, he was dying, and Death was the one reaping. He started to think that there might be a conflict of interests here when he suddenly realized that the Greek had stiffened, his features had smoothed out to a preternatural degree. Only his hands moved: fingers curling into palm, nails biting into flesh.
The wrath god swayed on his feet, his existence *clicked* into another form, and he rushed forward, shrieking incoherently. From where Loki half-crouched, half-sat by water ’ s edge, he could feel the ripple of power that followed. Not so *minor*, it seemed. All around him gods and creatures and beasts tensed for battle, either suspiciously eyeing those about them or starting to aim weapons at the attacking Greek.
Death didn ’ t even turn. Runes beneath the god ’ s now-taloned feet burned bright. Just as a missed claw-swipe brushed a few strands of hair on Death ’ s head, the wrath god ceased to exist. No spray of dust, no final cry ripped from his throat as he fell into oblivion—he was gone without a trace.
Death still hadn ’ t turned. And when the words left her lips they were cold, quiet with menace: “ I hope we all realize what a mistake it would be to fight in this place. ”
Two Greeks began laughing, high, manic, crazed, and Death regarded them cooly. They silenced themselves; and all those who ’ d been preparing for battle, who ’ d been spooked by the god: they all slid back into less hostile, though not relaxed, positions.
Death seemed to notice this, if the smile—*completely for our sake, * he thought—was any indication. She said, “ Good. Now, on to important matters. ” The two she had soundlessly reprimanded grinned at each other, on the verge of hysterics.
Loki might have cringed if any of the Greeks here had cared for that mad god. Brutal, the way she dismissed his… not death, but… banishment from Everything as something not “ important. ”
And *gosh*, how it just filled him with a giddiness he had almost forgotten.
“ Pantheons are not inclusive groups, as you ’ re well aware, ” Death spoke, a slight upturn to her smile, “ and in recent times, in the last six or so centuries, I ’ m sure you ’ ve all noticed that there has been little to draw on, especially for the smaller deities. Almost no followers, no tribute, no propitiation. Nothing available for you except the absent homages in literature or half-assed rituals performed by edgy teenagers. ”
Loki played with an illusory tesseract as she spoke, impressed note-thoughts along 4D-space, ready to catch the important parts. So far he ’ d only been doodling, for Death was a lot less insightful than she thought she was—he knew all this already.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Sinthgunt, one of Loki ’ s people, called out, “ What is your role in all this? We don ’ t need an introductory speech, we all understand why we are here—you are telling us nothing we don ’ t already know. ”
“ What is curious, ” a Japanese water-goddess said, voice crisp, face froggy but still beautiful in the way only a divine amphibian could be, “ is that you stand before us, preaching accord between Death and all us divine, and yet you are the one who will collect us, in the end. ”
“ That would be curious, ” Death said, condescension writ in the fine, false-smile lines around her mouth, “ if it were true. As it is, you ’ re spewing ignorance. ” The frog deity bristled, standing straighter in indignation. “ There are some things that not even *I* can claim. ”
The water-goddess squinted, an expression doubled in its doubt and curiosity. “ Everything that begins must end. ”
“ Some things never begin. ” She shook her head, and said, “ Imagine? A goddess not knowing the nature of her being. ” Death laughed with little mirth. “ This is like teaching sex-ed to a couple after they ’ ve already had sex, both for the first time: it should have been done beforehand but they slipped through the cracks. Or were placed in the hands of incompetent educators. I blame the stodgy old gods running your pantheons, all in disrepair, feral animals fending for themselves. ”
Others seemed to have caught on her meaning, and one goddess stepped forward and addressed the confused frog deity: “ We are inherent concepts, my dear. ” The frog bristled again at the patronizing tone. “ Not *people* who can be destroyed or killed or rot. We can fade, slide along the spectrum from tangible to intangible, depending on the influx of praise and power available, but we will never not be. ”
“ And that mad god, the one who disappeared? I *felt* him cease. ”
“ He ceased in that form, but he still exists elsewhere. Below, in the hearts and minds of men. ”
`` Whatever, fine.'' The frog deity looked put out, but relieved, in a strange sense. `` But that still does n't explain why you *insisted* you lead this meeting. I was there for your proclamation, you said you were the only one qualified to do it.''
`` The simple answer: thought it'd be fun.''
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[ WP ] A story about a man in the Fallout 4 universe who discovers he 's actually a synth .
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`` No good deed goes unpunished'', I reminded myself as I laid face down on the dirt having been shot in the back. It's an interesting final perspective of the world. The clear blue skies to my right and the cold, irradiated dirt to my left. At least I am not in pain. Probably the shock. Can always turn to the brighter side of things I guess until something wanders by and finishes me off.
And this is how I will go. Getting shot in the back from someone who I just saved from raiders. That's what I get for trying to be a good person. Did n't even get a thank you. Instead, I got one of the most horrified looks I've ever seen after I had taken a raider'' s knife to the shoulder. From what I could tell, she was one of those vault dwellers. And she looks like she had just been through hell. It could n't have been easy for a girl alone in all this. She freaked out when I tried to patch her up which led me to believe that might've been sexually assaulted. But that does n't excuse her from shooting me in the back when I turned around.
It's an interesting final view of the world lying face down. But I am pain free which is more than I can say for most. I am starting to hallucinate now as I see my vision flicker and a damage report scrolls along my right eye. What a strange fucked up world. I am done with it all.
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[ WP ] Red roses grow on graveyards because they 're hungry for blood
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`` Before they came...''
`` You said something?''
`` They were n't always here.''
Madeline was looking at the roses outside.
`` Burn me. Please burn me.''
Ethan was exasperated.
`` You know it's illegal. How many times have we had this conversation?''
His grandmother turned her head towards him then. She had that bored look Ethan was so familiar with. Fighting with her was stupid once she made up her mind. All her life she got her way, and she was n't about to let death stop that. Too bad she'll have no say in it.
`` I do n't want them feeding on me!''
`` Yes, yes. But you'll bury us all anyway, so I do n't know why you're telling me all this for.''
Just then his mother came in from work, bringing with her from outside the pungent smell of roses.
The roses. They appeared when Madeline was a young girl, during a war that took over the world. They were offerings to brutal gods, symbols of death, totems of death and destruction. The roses fed on the blood of the dead. Their red petals could be seen wherever people lived and died. They covered the streets, the houses and the graveyards. The war stopped. but the roses kept growing.
Something woke Ethan up, startling him from a deep sleep. It was still dark out, but the sky seen from his second story had a yellowish glow. The clock on the nightstand said 03:14. Then his mother screamed again. That's what woke him in the first place, his mother screaming. Then his father yelled something.The front door slammed open. He jumped out of bed, intending to run downstairs and see what was happening but as he passed the window, something caught his eye. In the back yard, on a pyre made from burning roses, his grandmother was sitting. She was staring at him, and he could n't tear his eyes away. He did n't move when his parents called for him to help them throw buckets of water on her, or through the chaos that followed once word of what she did got out. They locked eyes until the very second she died, and maybe even after that. Madeline got her way, after all.
-- -
-056
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[ WP ] You are an assassin . Probably the best in the world . You accept a job and after an attempted hit you discover your target is immortal . You have never failed , and you do n't plan to now .
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I had him in the crosshairs. I swear I did. A gentle pressure on the trigger and... that should have been it.
Instead, my mark had the bullet in his hand. I do n't know how he did it. One minute he seemed oblivious to me. Intent on... well, whatever he was intent on. I did n't care. Next minute, the bullet is in his hand, between his fingers. I could see it clearly through the scope.
The he winked at me. I swear he knew exactly where I was. He winked at me and flicked the bullet away. I looked up, and he stopped to talk to some guy in a suit. They chatted for a while, then entered a cab together. I had n't seen the suit before. Odd. I pride myself in knowing all about my marks. How had I missed this one? I asked my glasses to look him up.
Did my mark just wave at me from the cab?
-- --
Three, two, one, and... the job was done. I knew, because the tracker went dead. I switched on the TV to catch the news.
A kids' choir in an old folks' home. A shooting downtown. A parrot reciting the times tables. It should n't be long now.
There. Breaking news. A massive explosion in a hotel three states away. Hundreds feared dead. The helicopter's cam showed half the building had collapsed. I smiled grimly. I'd finally done it. Surely.
Then, the camera zoomed in. There was my mark, strolling through the rubble. He looked up at the camera, smiled, and held up his hand. In between his fingers were the cracked and melted remains of the tracker. He flicked it away, and winked at me. At the camera. I could n't help but think it was at me. Then he was surrounded by cops and paramedics.
And the suit! Again! Why could n't I get information on that guy?
-- --
I finally had his name. My contacts had got nothing for weeks, and then the guy gets his face plastered all over the New York Times. I ought to plug the lot of them. After I plug the suit. After I get what I need from him. Mr Doe, CEO of Temporalis. Some waffle about time travel. And superheroes. Huh.
`` Mr Doe will see you now.''
I tipped my hat to the chick, and made my way through the doors.
`` Take a seat, Jernimo. And welcome to Temporalis''
I froze. Nobody had called me that for... well, forever, it seemed like. I'm about to open my mouth, and then I see who else is in the room.
My mark.
I should have acted calm. I should have waited. I should have.
I pulled out my uzi emptied the magazine. Well almost. I was n't so fazed as to be *that* unprofessional. My mark collapsed and fell behind the table, where I could n't see him.
Another slug for Mr Doe the CEO.
I lowered the gun. Mr Doe held the bullet between his thumb and his forefinger. He turned it, inspecting it. Then looked at where the body of my mark had fallen.
`` Well done, Jernimo. Come over here.''
I fired again. And again. Then click. I was sweating now.
`` Tut, tut, Jernimo! I just want to show you something!''
I should make a break for it. Then, I heard the door behind me lock.
`` Come here, Jernimo. Do n't be afraid!''
I was terrified, but I approached.
I saw the body of my mark. Holes in the shirt. Blood. The CEO reached down and pulled a rubber mask off his face. `` There!''
The face of my mark... was mine.
`` You've earned your fee, Jernimo. It's in that room.''
A door that I had n't seen before opened. A table, with cash in an open suitcase.
`` Go on!''
I entered the room.
Next to the suitcase was a rubber mask.
`` You'll need to wear that when I send you back.'' said Mr Doe.
`` Back where?''
`` Back to the start.''
`` The start of what?''
`` How'd you like to be a superhero, Jernimo?''
The suit pressed a button on a panel. The room went blindingly white.
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[ WP ] A person gains new found success in life as they start giving 110 % . Unknowingly , the extra 10 % is being stolen from Alternate Universe versions of them self .
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This would be it, she decided. It's the first day. It's a new school. We're all freshmen, right? Bottom of the totem pole, like Mr. Brevis told them all last year. She's not skating by this year and she's going to talk to people without being the smart weirdo. She can do this, she tells herself, as she swings her legs out of the bed and heads for the bathroom trying to calm the massive knot of fear in her belly.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
A new school year. A new school. She wants it to be brand new just like she wanted every school year to be brand new and wash away the sin of her weirdness and the sin of being the brightest student in the class without trying. ( not fair not my fault ) Mr. Brevis told them all last year that they would be the bottom of the totem pole. She repeats to herself brand-new-year-do-better-this-year-you-can-do-this as the alarm buzzes. She pushes the snooze button and continues her mantra.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
It's the state semi-finals for the Mathlete competition. She gnawed on the end of her pencil. This whole bit about a conical pile of sand that's increasing at... Ugh... She hated these things.
`` Come on. Think about the volume of a cone. If it's volume gets bigger...''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
It's the state semi-finals for the Mathlete competition. She gnawed on the end of her pencil. This whole bit about a conical pile of sand that's increasing at... Ugh... She hated these things.
She did enough though. It's ok to just put the pencil down and end the test. We still placed...
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
`` I know it's AP Chemistry, but you've been doing so well, I think you could do it,'' Ms. Han said as she looked over the transcripts.
`` It's... Well, I had so much trouble with it in ninth... I'm not sure I can do this.''
Ms. Han took off her reading glasses and let them dangle on her chest. She rubbed her chin as she pondered the junior sitting in her office. Mr. Brevis's notes indicated that in middle school she had been a bright young girl who `` lacked a work ethic'', was `` uppity'', and unable to make any kind of friend and that he was `` waiting for the inevitable lawsuit.'' Ms. Han was waiting for his eventual termination. Kids do n't need counselors like that and this young woman was the proof. She worked hard in all her classes. She had a small, but strong group of friends. And she could do this AP Chemistry. Hard work beats talent. That was the key.
Ms. Han made a few swift clicks and assigned the young woman to AP Chemistry.
`` There. You might have trouble with it at first, but I know you always give that 110 %.''
She gave a laugh. `` You know Mrs Young hates that phrase right? That's more than everything! Where is that extra ten percent coming from?''
Ms. Han chuckled. `` I do n't know, but I bet you found it.''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
`` I know it's AP Chemistry, but you've been doing so well, I think you could do it,'' Ms. Han said as she looked over the transcripts.
`` It's... Well, I had so much trouble with it in ninth... I'm not sure I can do this.''
Ms. Han took off her reading glasses and let them dangle on her chest. She rubbed her chin as she pondered the junior sitting in her office. Mr. Brevis's notes indicated that in middle school she had been a bright young girl who `` lacked a work ethic'', was `` uppity'', and unable to make any kind of friend and that he was `` waiting for the inevitable lawsuit.'' Ms. Han was waiting for his eventual termination. She had pulled it together for these first two years, although she did seem to be slipping a bit lately. Ms. Han made a mental note to call home as she made a few clicks and signed the girl AP Chemistry.
`` We'll see how you do. If it's too much, I can change it, but go in and just... Give it more than you have been lately. Not 110 % yet, but just give it 100 % and you'll succeed. I promise it.''
The girl gave a slight nod, picked up her pack and slipped out of the office.
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[ WP ] [ CW ] Write a story that contains the phrase `` the trees are moving '' .
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`` Eyes on target,'' I said, more to myself than to the soldier next to me.
`` Confirmation?''
I studied the man through the crosshairs of my rifle. Deep tan, emerald green eyes, black hair, scar across the right cheek, missing a front tooth. `` Affirmative.''
My spotter picked up his radio and said, `` Dog 1 actual, the trees are moving, I repeat, the trees are moving, over.''
We waited in silence and I watched the man stand and observe the camp around him. His eyes glinting in the sunlight that filtered through the jungle canopy. One of his lieutenants wandered over to him from a mess tent and started talking. The man gave a coy smile and a laugh, his gap tooth standing out among the bright teeth.
`` Roger that Dog 23, take the shot.'' came the voice on the radio.
I exhaled slowly as the lieutenant walked away, laughing, the man turning and facing the mountainside we lay on. I gently squeezed the trigger as the man's eyes shone.
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[ WP ] Write about the first day of work for a guard in a prison that was formerly a missile silo .
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`` You Jake?''
Jake nodded nervously, trying as hard as he could to find a good place to rest his hands. He settled them on his belt, then on the truncheon and pistol, then behind his back, swiching between combinations of the three as the older guard glared at him.
`` Welcome to Borehole.'' The older guard turned around and gestured that Jake should follow him, `` My name is Lieutenant Curse. You will receive your orders from me and you will obey them unless the General or the his betters tell you otherwise, is that understood?''
`` Yes sir!''
`` Right.'' Curse spun the wheel on an old water-tight door and swung it out, `` This way. do n't trip and break your face. Right. This is the main shaft. If you laugh at that I swear to god I will throw you over the railing. It was abandoned by the former soviet union in 1990. Since then it has been a lair for several notable supervillains; including MegaHatchet, Voskorne and Deadface. As you are probably aware, the Super League has defeated all three of them. Of course, our leader is so much more intelligent than they were and so we should not question his decision to move his base in here after we already know the Super League knows about it, has been here before, and probably has a detailed plans of its layout and weaknesses.''
`` Er.''
`` Did you just say something, maggot?''
`` No, sir.''
`` I thought so.'' Curse flicked a hand over the railing, `` You're a new hire so you'll be on the bottom floor. You'll be responsible for feeding the imprisoned arch-nemeses of the High Lord and cleaning up the remains of any underling that has been thrown down the silo for displeasing our master. There is industrial solvent and a power washing hose in the utility closet. Learn to use them both.''
Curse moved toward another sealed door and opened it to an ancient staircase, `` If a prisoner complains that they are sick, shoot them. If they want to tell you a secret, shoot them. If they do or say anything that would have you get close to their cell or put any tool or appliance within their reach and you *don't* shoot them, we will shoot you. Is that clear?''
`` Yes, sir.''
`` Why'd you join this outfit, kid?''
`` Wanted for murder, sir.''
`` How many counts?''
`` Er, one?''
`` Pathetic.'' Curse spat down the stairwell. It was a long second before the mucus hit the concrete far below, `` In my day you'd need at least a local ganglord title to get hired. We had smaller crews then, of course. you only needed a couple henchmen and a few hired chumps to play meatwall. Now we got to have a goddamned IT department. Can you believe that? We can outsource our assassinations now, but we just *have* to have our ipads working... Disgusting.''
`` Er, is there an opening in that dep-''
`` No.'' Curse turned his head over his shoulder and glared as he took another two steps down the stairs, `` Man, Back then you'd be executed for incompetence by now. Instead of getting to shoot you in your stupid face because I do n't like you, I have to babysit your pansy ass and listen to your whining for the next three weeks.'These bodies are gross!''It smells down here!''I got a strange infection!' Bah! If I hear any of that from you, I *will* shoot you, understood?''
`` Yes, sir.''
`` Alright, here we are. There's the closet, there's the mop and bucket, there's.... oh, he died. Well, looks like you got your first corpse to clean up. Lucky you. Any questions, maggot?''
`` Nope.'' Jake pulled out his gun and shot Lieutenant Curse in the center of his forehead, `` I think I got the hang of it.''
Jake whistled as he went to fetch the industrial cleaner.
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[ WP ] A Team of incompetent police attempt to stop a team of equally incompetent criminals .
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Ok gang, lets split up to find more clues.
Daphne and Velma, you come up with me to look for clues in the master bedroom, Scooby and Shaggy, you take the shed outside.
Like, hey Scoobs, let's follow these glowing footsteps!
Roh-Kay.
RaaAAaaRrr!
Jeepers! It's the Creeper!
Huh, it looks like a number of people have been minorly inconvenienced passing through this part of town. I bet it has something to do with the Creeper. Oops! I dropped my glasses, I ca n't see without my glasses! Oh no! The Creeper is chasing Shaggy and Scooby!
Ok gang, here is how the trap works. Shaggy and Scooby will lead him through this door, then I'll trip him onto this scooter, which will send him off the sweet jump, through the ring of fire, and into the net!
Ok lets take off the mask. GASP! It's old man Jenkins! The owner of this house.
**And I would have gotten away with it too, if it were n't for you meddling kids! **
*later at the police station, with just old man Jenkins and the Sheriff*
So can I go home now?
Yeah sure, I do n't know what was in those Scooby Snacks, but I decided that pretending you were in trouble and taking you to the station would be less trouble than trying to deal with those kids. But yeah, you actually did n't do anything wrong. Thanks for not shooting those kids by the way, considering our states `` stand-you-ground'' law.
No problem.
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[ WP ] One day all the human males on earth vanish . 30 years later they return , for them it was only a moment . Only one person claims to know how and why .
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No civilization can withstand the disappearing of an entire half of it's population.
The end of men came silently, husbands disappeared while speaking at the dining table. Many planes feel from the sky before the passengers realized what had occurred. Understaffed coal mines cut the power to the first world while understaffed reactors had to be shut down by those who remained. Supply lines failed, refrigeration came to a halt.
It was n't universal of course, and luckily many pockets remained functioning. Science continued, and the focus of these societies were focused on a single concept after they established their survival. Reproduce using a single gender. They succeeded.
The first ten years were hell on earth, millions of those who were already in poverty starved to death. By the twenty year mark cities had turned into abandoned urban sprawls with still-glowing cores at their centers. Society had survived, and finished licking it's wounds. Knowledge had not been lost, and populations began growing once more.
The next ten years were slow, but steady. The glowing cores of cities began to expand as newly formed families, composed entirely of women who believed it their duty to raise children, began to colonize the homes which were abandoned, or at least rebuild them.
But then they returned. Just as quickly as it had ended, every man popped back into existence exactly where they had been. Pilots fell out of the sky, coal miners found themselves in the dark, husbands looked into suddenly empty, or suddenly foreign households.
More importantly, they returned in numbers equal to what had been before. The infrastructure to support these people no longer existed, and the existing society was n't ready for such an explosion of population. Another famine began, but soon population was back at a normal ratio, and with recourse-extensive fertilization done away with, exponential growth began again.
In a shack, somewhere in the woods, devoid of any edible goods, there laid a body next to a strange machine. A genius by birth, he had always been the sort to ponder over the phrase `` not even if you were the only man in the world''. As society continued it's growth, power was restored to areas which had n't seen it for centuries. The device activated once more, the cycle began again.
___
Honestly I think this is fairly shit. I could improve it a ton if I went over it again, and my original intent with the story was to end with some `` happy laugh ending''. I could n't think of some universal thing that could scare every man on the planet away, so no happy for you.
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[ WP ] You own the worlds first teleportation company . Today is the first customer to be teleported from San francisco to Paris . It did n't go exactly as planned .
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'What the fuck just happened?', yelled Marcus.
'I do n't know sir, I really do n't know, I mean, everything was set up perfectly, there were no evident problems during preparation, I just do n't know.', replied John, the lead scientist responsible for the experiment.'Well I need to fucking know...... now!', Marcus yelled again. This was n't just directed at John, but at everyone in the room.
A voice piped up from behind Marcus. It was quite quiet, and feminine.
'There seems to have been a problem'.
'No shit! One moment I was looking at Steve behind this glass, with all the sensors hooked up to him, and then the next he just disappeared, leaving half of his leg behind! Can someone tell me where he is now please? The sensors report no heart rate, so can someone report whether that is a glitch or Steve's dead. Can anyone confirm whether he's in Paris? Jodie, where does the tracker say he is?'
'I do n't think the tracker is working, sir.'
'Why not?'
'Well, it says that he is in multiple places at once, sir, all across the globe.'
'Jodie... they're the location of his limbs. Each of his limbs had trackers in them.'
Jodie was nearly sick in the bin beside her desk.
'Did any part of him make it to Paris?' Marcus asked the room.
Someone answered.'Erm... I'm not sure how to say this....but, er, the tracker seems to say that Steve's head is in Paris. As a matter of fact... it seems to be impaled on the top of the Eiffel Tower.......'
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[ WP ] Humanity finally reaches the edge of the solar system only to encounter an impassible barrier and a warning not to try and breach it . But is it there to keep us in or to keep something else out ?
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`` Out there on the perimeter there are no stars...''
A fragmentary lyric from some song Id heard too many times as a reckless boy came floating up now through inner thoughts.
Perhaps it was premonition, perhaps it was the feeling I had as I emerged from Light sleep a billion leagues away from my starting point.
A peculiar pressure, like a presence filled the med bay and I watched as all the screens and rotoscopes around me seemed to flicker with a strange static that circled around me, cycling through them, displaying an unusual series of blips and sin waves that were in no discernible way related to the data they were showing.
the door opened and Laura peered her head in. She gave me a moment to slide into pants and a stansuit before saying, `` You might want to come see this.''
I zipped up and followed her out through the hallway, my thoughts realigning themselves with the here and now and away from the strange dreams i had just been immersed in for the past 6 years.
`` What is it...?'' I started to ask, but was cut off by the sight two stories high beamed into the central monitor.
`` It was a crackling sheath of white energy, extending in a solid band in all directions of space in front of us. Like a mirror, polished in some ways, reflecting back our own image of long spiral shaped ship, and in another way as a barrier that eddied with repeated ripples that seemed to originate from within, or from the other side of the thing, and extended here as visible response.
`` fascinating, isnt it?'' Laura said.
`` A... wall? ``, I asked, uncertain of the word I wanted to use, but uncertain of alot of things at this point.
`` I dont know. It certainly appears so. there seems to be no discernible way through it. The scans have been hitting it for 20 hours straight in all directions... and nothing, no chink, just the repetitive manifestations of those ripples and valleys.''
`` Is it... solid?'' I asked her.
`` not exactly... There seems to be no kind of crystalline structure to it, atomic analysis yields nothing Ive ever seen, no standard particles, and no electron volt energy to be seen, and no electromagnetic signatures. But on the other hand it certainly appears to be conducting some kind of energy through it in a contained fashion.''
`` So what? Majick?'' I said, stammering for the word that first came to mind.
She didnt respond, but only looked at me with a look of doubt before turning back to the screen.''
[ contd ]
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[ WP ] One second your in your house , the next you 're standing in a living room surrounded by three demons . They drop their Ouija board and scream as they run to their bathroom and lock the door . `` I told you we should n't have touched it ! ''
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I bet it was the ears.
I mean really they're pretty freaky when you think about it, massive flaps protruding from your skull that lead to holes boring straight to your brain.
I say massive I guess most peoples are actually pretty proportional. I always thought mine were massive. It ’ s a terrible affliction really, having massive earlobes. I was teased mercilessly about it in school, probably developed some kind of complex.
The people currently sloshing away from me in fear didn ’ t appear to suffer from my condition, although they did seem to have some problems of their own.
If they did have earlobes they were well obscured by the various horns, tentacles, and assembled limbs that shot outwards at odd angles from their heads. I assume that those were their heads, although you could make a convincing case for the meaty lumps being some kind of appendage or sexual organ.
Thinking about it assuming that the bit on top of the body is the head is a very humancentic assumption. I mean really why must the head be on top of the body? In fact now that I am thinking about it the position of the human head seems extremely inconvenient. Why does the gallbladder get a protective shell of fat, muscle, and bone while the brain sits in the most vulnerable position on the construct. It ’ s this kind of stuff that the intelligent design people don ’ t like to talk about.
Judging by the ridicules board that my host dropped on their way out I am most likely in the company of some truly unenlightened brutes.
While I suppose they deserve some leniency given the obvious severity of whatever condition they are suffering from physical disability is no excuse for intellectual apathy. Apathy is the only excuse for holding such ridiculous beliefs in these modern and enlightened times where simple, rational, truth is so readily available.
It is the duty of educated men such as me to free our fellow man from the bondage of superstition and irrationality. This has never been clearer to me then it is now, as I gaze out the window onto the scene of abject horror in the valley below.
Great chaotic chasms of flame and smoke crisscross the geography blowing great clouds of yellow sulfur into the sky across which winged beat erratically flock. Naked humans scream and cower in the pits that pockmark the barren landscape. Towers black as night rise from the ground with architecture that defies the most basic physical principles. Massive instruments of torture are scattered about willy-nilly. Ridiculous symbols are carved into every available surface, sheep ’ s heads, pentagrams, upside down crosses, testaments to this cities status as an obvious intellectual backwater. What more it ’ s clear from a cursory overview that no mind has been paid to the principles of urban design, inefficient space usage, or even simple aesthetics.
As I look at the scene below me I can not help but feel an overwhelming sense of purpose.i now what I must do.
I am going to fix this place.
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[ WP ] You 're a criminal who 's supposed to be executed tomorrow . You sleep for the night , your big day is tomorrow . Wake up , you 're on an island , isolated from humanity .
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A VERY LONG NIGHT
Mike stood at the window of his cell, hands clutching the bars tightly as he peered through the fading light of sunset. He could still hear the chanting of the protestors outside, but they were fainter than they had been all day. One by one, the less dedicated of the protestors had peeled off and headed for home, and the ones who stuck it out were starting to get hoarse from a day of shouting.
There came a rattling sound as a billy club was loudly drawn across the bars, and Mike was jolted by the sound. He could n't stop himself from jumping slightly at the suddenness of the sound, then he heard one of the guards laughing at idea he had made the convicted murderer jump.
`` Hope you ai n't counting on your loyal fans too badly,'' the guard said, and Mike could hear the sneer in his voice. `` Come what may, you got yourself an appointment in the morning.''
Mike said nothing, but he did turn from the cell window and walk the very tiny space to his cot and sat down. His shoulders slumped and he buried his face in his hands.
The guard cocked his head to one side and theatrically cupped a hand to his ear as if listening carefully. `` What's that?'' he asked. `` No last minute protest? No'*I'm telling you I'm innocent! *' No'*You got the wrong guy!'*'' The guard spit through the bars, and it landed so close that Mike could hear it hit the concrete at his feet.
`` You want the right guy, Baby? Come on over here. I'm your right guy, man,'' said another convict from the cell across from Mike and made kissy faces at the guard. The guard spun and swung viciously at the other convicts cell door with the billy club, making the metal structure clang so loudly it was like being on the inside of a church bell when it rung.
`` I ai n't talking to *you* Hernandez!'' the guard said sharply. `` You gon na have your own appointment next week, so do n't piss me off in the mean time, cause there's still plenty of time for your to'slip in the shower' or something.''
`` HEY!'' the guard sergeant called as he poked his head in the hall and saw what was happening. `` Fitz, knock it the hell off. Now! Move it. I'm gon na be double checking your time on rounds, so you're gon na wan na stop dallying to talk with your girlfriends here.''
`` Aaaah,'' Fitz said, and he headed out the far end of the corridor. A few minutes later, the lights off bell rang and banks of florescent lights snapped off except for a few key lights that would stay on 24-7 for monitoring purposes.
Mike sighed, and lay down on his back, convinced he would n't get a single wink of sleep all night.
He stared at the ceiling of his cell, and thought about the stupid meaningless act of blind stupid rage that had put him here. He had come here a minor tried as an adult, but the appeals had dragged on so long he had long since ceased to be a minor. He thought back upon the appeals and about all the crap his lawyer said, and tried to remember if he ever had any real hope, because if ever had, he'd forgotten it by now.
Sometime in the night he drifted off in spite of his conviction that he could n't possibly do so. And that's when things really got weird.
.
Mike slept long and deeply. He thought there had been odd violent dreams, but he could n't remember them in any detail. All he knew is that for once he was n't woken by the sound of buzzers rousing the cell block. For once, he was woken by sunlight on his face, and he groggily thought for a moment that they had let him sleep in, perhaps as a last kindness before they took him for the final walk.
Then it slowly sunk in that he had just watched the sunset through the window of his cell, and that placed it on the west side of the building. So where was the sunlight coming from? It was right about that moment that the last of the sleep was shocked out of him by a splash of warm water lapping over the left half of his body.
His eyes flew open and he was paralyzed with momentary shock. His cell was gone. He lay on his back in the warm wet sands of a tropical looking beach. Then he rolled over and his hands dug into the sand as he pushed himself to his feet and he spun around, trying to figure out what had happened.
He looked down at himself and found he was dressed not in the orange of a prison jumpsuit, but rather in blue jeans, a tee shirt, and weirdest of all, a yellow life jacket. He turned his attention to the sea, and scanned desperately for some detail to explain this. There was nothing. No ship. No debris. Nothing whatsoever as far as the horizon. No way to place where he was or even make a guess about how he got there.
Mike turned slowly in place, taking in the details of this peaceful tropical island in total confusion. Halfway through a turn, a loud bird call to his right made him jump, and snap his head around to look at the source of the sound. In nervous distraction, he went to scratch an itchiness on his face and that's when he noticed the several weeks worth of ragged beard growth.
`` My God,'' he muttered, and then he repeated it over and over. `` My God. My God. My God. Oh my God. Where am I? How did I...?'' Then he passed out.
.
When he awoke later, he felt calmer but no less confused. But he was able to walk along the perimeter of the beach, trying to assess how bad his situation was.
There were coconuts, and a thin trickling stream of clear water he could actually drink from, but anything more sophisticated was going to take some effort to pull together. The weather was beautifully clear and warm, so shelter was not an urgent problem.
Assuming he could find something other than coconuts to eat, he was n't sure what he would do about cooking it. In theory, he knew you could make a fire by rubbing sticks together. In practice, he had never tried to do such a thing, and he did n't doubt it was harder than it sounded. That also meant he could n't build a signal fire either, and this he deemed to be the larger problem in as much as he had nothing to cook anyway.
He tried hanging the bright yellow life vest on a high tree limb, hoping against hope that its neon bright color would attract attention if any ships passed, but he knew how improbable that sounded. And besides, no ships ever seemed to pass here as near as he could tell. Unless they did it at night while he slept or sat staring hypnotized at the countless multitude of stars he had never suspected were so plentiful before.
The diarrhea he got from eating nothing but coconuts for days was as unexpected as it was unpleasant, and he was sure it was probably dangerous as well. Yet he had to keep forcing fluids into himself to replace what he lost, though he feared that would make things worse.
After a week, his hands shook as he scrubbed frantically at his itchy beard. He hated the thing, but he lacked even a basic sharp knife to do anything about it. He had tried to wash it in the stream, but it felt as though sand fleas had infested both beard and his now unkempt hair, and after tolerating it as long as he could, he finally broke down in hysterical sobbing that did nothing for the itch but eventually exhausted him enough to fall asleep.
After ten days, he lay unblinking on his back in the middle of the sand. He was sunburned to the point of having blisters bubbling up, but he had long since lost the will to move to the shade, so he lay there, thinking about the memory of what water once felt like on his tongue. His mind was growing foggy, and he could no longer remember which way to crawl for the stream. He wanted to weep, but there was n't enough moisture left in his grainy feeling eyes.
He remembered feeling like his tongue must be swollen, because he was trying and failing to form the words, `` Please, please, please...'' and it just came out sounding like bird calls.
And on the eleventh day, as the sun rose, his eyesight started to fade. He panicked at first, since this meant his world would soon go dark, but deep, deep down inside, he hoped that meant his final release was getting near. Surely a human being could n't take much more?
.
And on the twelfth day, he was woken by a loud rattling like a billy club on the bars of a cell door. He barely reacted. He tried to force his eyes open, but if felt like they were sealed and matted shut. He opened his mouth to cry out, but nothing more than a faint gurgling made it out of him.
A short time later, he thought he could hear voices.
`` Jesus! What the hell did you do to him?''
`` Me?! I ai n't even seem him since last night!''
`` You're gon na want to watch what you say next, Fitz. We got cameras all over this place. You're the only one who had access!''
`` I came and got you right away!''
`` Yeah, so maybe you're covering you ass is all. Never mind. Just help me get him to the dispensary.''
Mike could feel himself being lifted up by strong hands, and pain rocketed through every nerve in his body. He wanted to scream but he did n't have the strength. Instead, he settled for passing out.
.
A buzzer sounded, and the gate opened. An emaciated looking man in the new cheap suit emerged with a suitcase in hand, and approached his lawyer, who held out a hand to welcome him back to the world. Mike set the suitcase down and accepted the handshake but he did not smile back at the man.
There were a scattering of people there, cheering and applauding as he emerged. Some carried signs protesting prison brutality, but Mike was actually grateful that there were so few. After everything else, he did n't want to be center ring at a media circus. As it was his lawyer had to hustle him past a small clutch of reporters who shouted questions at him, and he let the counsellor handle the `` no comment'' remarks.
As he sat in the passenger seat of the car that had been brought out to meet him, Mike jumped a little at the sound of the car door closing. It sounded too much like a cell door for his liking. But then again, he thought that maybe he feared being in the open spaces a little more.
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[ WP ] Two very old immortals meet each other on a busy street by chance . Each having believed they were the only one until now .
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As I walked down Main Street, looking at the same photo of my late wife that I had been since the mid 1800's, a stranger bumped into me, knocking me over and causing me to drop the photo. `` What the hell, man?'' I say, and quickly picked up the fragile, faded photograph. `` So sorry, mate. Did n't see you there.'' the stranger says, helping me back up. `` Who's that?'' he says, pointing to my photo. `` My wife.'' Oh shit. What did I just say? This picture is like 200 years old. There's no way he'll buy it. He'll probably assume I'm kidding around. `` Really?'' asks the stranger, `` That's looks like quite an old photo. It looks like those old calotype photos. Man, I remember helping out Henry invent those things. Well, at least the stories my great grandpa always told me as a kid.'' Whatever. Strange dude. `` See ya later'', he says as we part ways. Wait a minute. There's no way this guy's great grandpa was alive when the calotype was invented, and people do n't mistake their great grandpa's stories for their own. I'm not alone. After losing dozens of loved ones, my life is just beginning.
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[ WP ] The girl in my head .
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There's a girl inside my head?
If she feed off brain cells, she must be dead.
The girl inside would surely surely wince,
From all the ghastly things she would've glimpsed.
If she could look out my eyes like telescopes,
I'm not too certain she could cope,
With all the she has seen
Appeared and saved on my screen.
Ladies tied up just for fun,
And madames dresses as a horny nun.
Yes I've bashed my bishop with my wrist
That even Satan would be pissed.
To the girl that is inside my brain,
Forgive my habits that bring you disdain,
But if I was the guy nestled in your head piece,
You'd have a better sense of humour at least
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[ WP ] You wake up in a house . It 's nice place , with all the comforts of home . However , the front door is cold steel , with a note on it . The note warns you never to leave the house . After years of compliance , you decide to go through the steel door ...
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It was 9 pm, and I had just finished my dinner of ramen noodles and pilfered sriracha sauce. That was some gourmet stuff, right? But it was all I could afford with student loans looming in the future. I was going to graduate next week, and all the applications I had sent in for jobs had gone unanswered. If only my family was rich, then I'd be in a nice house, and probably be given money to start my own business.
Absentmindedly, I stared out the window of my shitty room for rent, out to the starry sky. A shooting star flashed quickly outside. That's right, the meteor shower was today. What if I made a wish? Nothing to lose, right? `` All right'', I said, laughing to myself. `` I wish I was in a nice house and I did n't have to worry about having a shitty life trying to pay back my loans! You hear me? One with a pool and not a single pack of ramen in sight! I want some goddamn steak!'' Another shooting star passed by, as if in response. `` Haha, what a laugh'', I said. Better get to sleep, I had a final tomorrow.
I woke to soft music playing. It sounded like a nice speaker system, too. Wait, where was I? This was n't my room. Had I been kidnapped? I went into a panic. There was an ironwork sculpture on the wall, and I took it down to use as a makeshift weapon. Walking as silently as I could, I peeked out into the immaculately decorated hallway. No one was there. No one was in any of the five bedrooms, the living room, the green room, or the kitchen. I knew there were more rooms, but what I saw in the kitchen made me stop, aghast.
There, on the carved wood dining table, was a full breakfast. Steak and eggs, toast, orange juice, and coffee, with a little dish full of sugar and a small container full of cream. Next to it was a note. It read: `` Greetings, Robert Sandoval. You are welcome to use this house and its amenities for as long as you like. Your meals and other needs will be provided for. But do not leave the house. We can not guarantee your safety if you do.''
Okay. I went to the entryway, and there was a large steel door there, with a big sign saying, `` DO NOT OPEN'' in large, red letters. I decided not to open it for now, and explore the rest of the house before making my decision. But first, I was going to eat that breakfast.
It tasted just as good as it looked. My belly was full and happy. Who cares if it was weird? This is a good life, certainly better than I could hope for on my own. It's like the wish I made last night really came true. So was there a pool? Yep, there was, a couple of flights down. A nice, heated indoor pool. There was even a hot tub. Each room was exquisitely decorated, temperature controlled, and with every convenience I could have asked for, and some that I did n't. There was even a goddamn game room. I spent hours playing Dragon Age.
As time passed, I began to notice some strange things about the house. Meals always appeared in the same place, but would n't clear or appear until I left the room, although the fridge, freezer, and pantry were fully stocked. Same with laundry, if I left the room for a moment then went back, the laundry would be gone and I would find it in the closet or dresser again, clean. Rooms would be orderly again. Once, I completely trashed a room, and it was perfect when I opened the door again. I also noticed that while the house had windows, I could n't see anything that was outside. There was a backlit outdoor scene on the other side of the window instead. I tried breaking the window, but whatever it was made out of, it could n't break with anything I tried.
I resolved to be happy with my situation, and I was for many days. But it is humanity's nature to be curious, and I once again found myself in front of that steel door. I was getting to be a bit starved for human contact.
`` What are you doing?'' A female voice asked behind me.
I whirled around. A cute, slim woman with long black pigtails was standing there.
`` Who are you?'' I asked.
`` Me? I am Andrea Collins. I was going to take a nap, and I ended up here with you.''
`` Well, there's five rooms in here. You're welcome to use one.''
And that's how Andrea and I came to live together. Things worked much the same way, but instead of one meal appearing three times a day, there were two. As we spent more time together, we developed a friendship, then a relationship. Many years went by in bliss, but human curiosity got the best of us eventually, and we found ourselves in front of that very same door.
`` I'm going to open it'', I said, taking a step forward, putting my hand on the handle.
`` But maybe something bad will happen. Whoever wrote that note said they could n't guarantee our safety if we did.'' Andrea was worried.
`` Step back, then, if you are scared.'' I turned the handle.
Andrea backed up quickly as I did. It was difficult to open the door, but with some effort it swung open. I realized what I had done, when I saw the entire expanse of space surround me. I could still see the moon, but the Earth was nowhere to be seen.
I had been placed here with Andrea to preserve humanity's existence, and now I had lost that chance. I was instantly filled with regret as the last of the air left my lungs. The door to the ship slammed shut, leaving Andrea alone.
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[ WP ] You have become a reality bender . Do you use you powers for good ? For greed ? Or do you use them to fulfill your darkest fantasies ?
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It was another beautiful day. The sky was blue and the clouds were splotchy patches of white littered throughout the sky, like wisps of smoke. It was coming onto ten o'clock in the morning when we finally arrived at the entrance to the woods. As allows we opted for the dark, decrepit path opposed to the well lit path. We made it to the point where we had entered the smaller path from the day before and there was nothing there. No trail on the ground, no gap in the trees with another line of trees running perpendicular to the path we were on. Matt and I exchanged looks. We had been to these woods hundreds of times and we knew with out a doubt were we had seen the path. We were looking around as I said to Matt. `` Dude? How could we miss this path every time we came out here? Should n't we have noticed it before?''
He stopped looking for the trail and replied. `` I wonder if we have to come from the benches.''
`` What the hell. We might as well check.''
`` You guys just stoned yesterday?'' Michael joked as we continued down to `` our benches''. We took off down the path at a leisurely pace. We arrived at `` our benches'' and sat down. Matt and Michael were discussing what to do next if we could n't find the path to the tree again. As we were hanging out at the benches I noticed a glint in the woods coming from the path we had just exited. I could have sworn I saw a shadow of a figure walking away from us.
`` Did you guys see that?'' I asked a little startled. The shadow was close enough before it walked away that it had to have been following us rather close.
`` What are you going on about?'' Michael asked rather quickly. His eyes darting down the path then around the cirrcumference of the grove the benches were in.
`` Nothing. I thought I saw something down the path walking away.'' Matt and Michael both looked down the path. Seeing nothing, they both shrugged at each other and went back to talking. We decided to go back to see if the path was there. If it still eluded us then we would just smoke the joint and go back to Matt's house and play some games or something. We started down the path again only slowing up as we arrived where we found the path the day before. Still no path. `` Fuck it. Maybe we had a shared halucination yesterday dude.'' I joked with Matt.
`` Yeah right. Maybe that guy who showed up just before we left yesterday made the path.'' I started laughing uncontrollably. As the joint went out Matt and I pulled out cigarettes from our packs and ignited the tips. We both took a few drags before Michael said. `` Hey I am just going to run home and get another joint ready and start geeking out.''
Continued to part 3
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[ WP ] You 've unknowingly been living you life with a chip in your brain that controls your actions and simulates the sensation of free will . One day it breaks .
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A low hum causes me to slip out of the sleep. I open my eyes. SMART-nii gleefully informs me that the time is 6:00 AM. I consider setting it to snooze for 15 more minutes of sacred sleep but then remember that I've already done so yesterday morning. Better not make it a habit. Shaking off the remains of morning slugishness, I hop out of the bed and head to bathroom. The shower's aggressive hail completely recharges me and I start vigorously brushing my teeth. After finishing I move on to shaving. SMART-nii notifies me that the razor blade is getting dull and I let him add buying a new one to the shopping list, to his sheer joy. Heading out of the bathroom, SMART-nii in a concerned tone tells me that the sky shall be overcast in the morning and then cheerfully adds that it should clear up in the afternoon. Arriving to kitchen, SMART-nii presents me with two choices for breakfast: BC-1 or BC-2. I have already had omelette yesterday, so I choose BC-2 with orange slices. Immediately a tray of food pops up and I fill myself with its contents. Back in the living room, I stop at the wardrobe an take a look inside. I see clothing sets W-1, W-2, W-5 and C-1 inside ( W-3 and W-4 are still at the dry cleaner's, SMART-nee informs me ). I pick the gray-and-yellow W-2 to match the weather. All clothed, I pause for a moment and SMART-nii tells me that I'm all ready to go and the next U-transport going to work shall be arriving in 20 minutes. I head out.
I join the group of people patiently waiting at the stop. Everyone is looking up the street, where The U-transport should be appearing from around the corner in 5 minutes. Unexpectedly, a bright white flash bursts out instead, casting a tall long shadow. The light reflects off the yellow plastic in people's clothes. This lasts for only a second and then stops with no sign of what just had happened. SMART-nee pops a message in front of my eyes: `` City Transportation Department is sorry to inform that route U-23 wo n't be operational for the rest of the day. We apologize for any inconveniences''. `` You can take U-24 instead. I'll show you the way to the nearest stop''. I thank SMART-nii and follow the directions, behind five other people.
Riding to work, I notice an Emergency Transport passing by. SMART-nee reminds me that we are reaching next milestone soon at work. I thank him and decide give the project documents another read-through. The U-transport reaches my destination just right about when I'm done and I head out of it. I join the line for Essenti-Scan at the entrance and exchange nods with a few co-workers. When it comes my turn, I step on the required spot, wait out the usual 5 flashes of light and after receiving an approving nod from the inspector behind the terminal, I continue on my way to the workplace. Finally resting in my chair, I check the correspondence. There are some reminders about the upcoming milestone as well as a couple of new issues with the product.Nothing that ca n't be resolved in a day. I stretch my hands and get to work.
I'm about half-way through when SMART-nee gently reminds me that it's about time for lunch. Looking around me I see people one by one leaving for cafeteria. I look back at the display. Maybe I can finish just this one first... Suddenly, a bright white light comes into my range of vision from the left. I turn my head to the window and the light blinds me completely. A sharp pain pierces my skull, as if a metal rod was driven right through it. It is so intense that I ca n't make a single movement, not even breath. And then it stops just as abruptly. My head feels just as well as it did this morning, I can clearly see everything around me. Worried by this unexpected event, I ask SMART-nii to add some headache medicine to the shopping list. There is no response. I restate my request: `` SMART-nii, please add some headache medicine to the shopping list. SMART-nii?''. Still no response.
Puzzled, I come to the cafeteria. Everyone is already at their tables, their plates full with today's special. Reflexively, I fill my own tray and take a sit, still dazed. I can hear the rhythm of utensils quietly hitting against the plates. I take a look at my tray. Mashed potatoes, green beans, lemon juice. Not feeling hungry any more, I take a glass of water and return to the office. The light came from that window. I walk closer and take a look outside. The sun is shining between the tall buildings, illuminating the U-transports speeding between them. An Emergency Transport is parked besides the entrance. `` Excuse me-'', I turn around a see a man in Emergency Department's uniform. I notice my co-workers forming a queue in the direction of entrance behind him. `` We believe that this building may have been under a terrorist attack. Please join the queue for an out-of-schedule Essenti-Scan. My immediate reaction is to follow his directions, but then something makes me stop. `` But I feel fine...'' `` We need to make sure. The damage to your organism might not be noticeable at first''. Having nothing to respond, I join the queue.
The fifth flash goes off and I start walking back to my workplace when the inspector asks me to wait. `` Is something wrong?''. `` Well, there is no problem with your health, but your Personalized Digital Assistant appears to have gone out of order. We'll replace it right away. You would n't want to be left out without one, would you?'' the inspector opens a door to the back room. It is brightly lit and contains a single bed. For a moment I hesitate. For some reason I feel like I'm forgetting something. Something in the back of my mind. I try desperately to recall what it was. `` It'll only take 10-15 minutes for us to install a new one. You wo n't feel a thing. Just lie down here''. I give up and comply.
`` All-right, we're all done'' I hear the inspector's voice again and open my eyes. `` Hello, my name is CLEVER-nee and I am your new Personalized Digital Assistant. It's nice to meet you!''. I say to CLEVER-nee that it's nice to meet her too and head back to my workplace.
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[ WP ] Something happy please . Include cats and maybe lizards .
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You know what they forget to tell you about being immortal? Eventually you'll be the last thing left alive. That was the reality I faced as I watched the last human settlement burn. I stopped considering myself one of them years ago. The human race I was apart of was one of civilization, art, and science. The human race that ended today had spent thousands of years in a wasteland left to them from their ancestors who ruined the earth with war, pollution, and ( ironically ) science. These humans `` survivors'' were close to cavemen in my eyes. I did n't even feel sorry for them as they died. From billions to zero. Hey, that might make a good book title! Of course, no one was left to read it, but hey what's that matter?
My thoughts turned to dinner. It would be a shame not to feast on the eve of the end of mankind. Given the fiery conclusion, something grilled. Fajitas maybe? I did miss Tex Mex food, but what kind of meat? Maybe some wild bird. I'll have to include cats and maybe lizards...
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[ WP ] One day God decides to teach Humanity a lesson , and everyone is transformed to look as good/bad as their personality is . You still recognize your best friend , but she gasps when she sees you .
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On phone and tired, grammar bad everywhere sorry.
`` Hah that stupid hat ca n't hide your stupid face bro.''
I walked down to Mike, everyone's clothes stayed the same but our bodies shifted.
Some of us stayed, normal, to say the least. Others grew and shifted tearing through their clothes, it looked painful.
After an initial minute or two of confusion we all carried on, it's like we all knew what happened and just rolled with it.
I was on my way to see Mike, it's good to know he did n't have horns, those are freaky.
He turned to me, i had a second to analyze his face
`` Aww big whoop you're as ugly as ever.'' I smiled a normal smile,
I will never forget his expression, his eyes grew his lips quivered and whole face, shifted.
`` J-Jay? That's you!?''
`` No shit Mike, was i affected that much?''
He pulled out a small square mirror
I do n't know where he got the mirror from but I cried when I looked at it.
Mike was a good friend, he let me cry. I suppose it was because we both understood.
I fought all my life, all my struggles pulled forward for the world to see. I used to hide them.
There was no more hiding, there was nothing left.
Mike had a hard time looking at me, he said it would hurt his eyes if he stared for too long.
He had a hard time trying to hug me, he got a little more handsome for his efforts, my wings were pretty obtrusive.
I wonder what i did to deserve this, I searched back through my memories.
I can see why, it was never about what i accomplished, it was, about what I intended to do.
A elderly man came over out of his small shop.
He was old but friendly looking, I could see his smile.
He draped a white robe around me, it felt right to wear
I stood up, Mike found some sunglasses, and with a big goofy smile I realised I could do what I always wanted to.
People can trust an angel to help them when they need it.
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[ WP ] A lone soldier , searching for his platoon , stumbles across a fellow trooper who agrees to travel with him . Gradually , the soldier begins to realize that there is something strange about his companion .
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Someone had uploaded the wrong damn grid coordinate for my drop zone. That someone was me, but that's not the point.
Dropping in, I made the softest landing. Barely even buckled my knees when I touched down. Problem was, I was on the opposite side of the objective, about ten clicks from the rest of my team. The other problem was, I was the ranking man. Someone once said never trust a lieutenant with a compass, I guess they were correct. I'm a captain though, so, I'm not sure what that says about me.
One of my mentors once said that the mistake was not the important part, but it's *what you do next* that counts. What *was* next? As a habit I inventoried my gear — it was all there. Got that part right.
`` Guppy 22 this is Guppy 6, over.''
All I heard was static. Comm's always down. Oh look at that, GPS is low on batteries. Naturally, I did not pack extras. Did I remember to grab my compass? I think you know the answer to that.
Regardless, the GPS had enough juice to point me in the right direction. I decided to angle towards the south side of the objective where the support element would eventually be positioned. Among the brambles and fuck-you vines I found a stream bed to guide me South.
Walking quietly is not easy and it is especially not easy at night with zero illumination. I had NODs, but those tend to create tunnel vision. My sense of hearing is a huge asset at this moment. Each miss-step is accompanied by teeth grinding and a fluttering heart rate. I feel like a fucking elephant walking on dried out leaves and twigs.
The light green blob in my NOD vision began to flash. 1-2-3. I responded with one flash of my IR light. The blob responded with two flashes. *Who the fuck is this? *
`` Is that you Skipper?'' whispered the blob.
`` Guppy 6 here,'' I replied.
`` Roger Sir. What's the move? We're southwest of the objective. Support element should be settling into place in about 15 mikes. Just past that ridge.''
*Who the fuck is this? * And why does he know more about the mission profile than I do?
`` Sir, the ISR birds will be checking on station in about 5 mikes to support the infil of the assault element.''
`` Yep, that's what I'm tracking as well. Let's get moving so we do n't miss the show, eh?''
I motion vaguely that he should take point.
`` Copy that, Sir!''
We make good time and arrive at an empty support position. Apparently we were early to the party. Not good. At the appointed time I begin to hear the soft buzzing of the ISR birds in the air. Air was always on time. That should mean that the assault element is...
`` Sir, the assault element has just passed the 64 easting.''
`` You got comms?''
`` Negative Sir.''
I'm shooting blanks into the dark right now. I decide to take this guy at face value.
`` I guess we're the support element. Let's get SATCOM up so...''
`` I just got HQ on SAT 133. We're the only ground station that has reported in.''
Gritting my teeth, I say, `` Looks like we're doing this the old fashioned way.''
`` I have the signal flares ready.''
`` Copy, get that gun up.''
He had it ready already, of course.
Through the leaves and tree tops I spied a small green flare bursting to the northeast. I'll be damned, the assault element was in position.
`` Sir, we need to mark the target.''
`` I know that!'' I snapped.
I pulled out my M203 and put a IR Smoke round into the chamber, aimed and fired towards the objective building. This backup signal plan sucked.
`` Good shot Sir. Here come the fast movers.''
`` This is'danger close' as fuck, hunker down pal.''
Inevitably we both kept our heads up to watch the fireworks. Dash one, the lead aircraft, hit the target precisely. Hopefully the new guy, dash two, would n't fuck it up.
`` Where's dash two?''
I start scanning the horizon for another aircraft, but I see and hear nothing. This is a moment I start to panic. My buddy casually pushes me into a depression in the ground and jumps atop. All I recall is the extreme over pressure in my head.
I wake up.
`` Hey Skipper!''
I blink away the bright lights of the aid station. Mouth feels like there are a thousand cotton balls in it.
`` Hey..'' I croak.
`` You saved our asses, Skipper. Shit was going to get real had you not marked that target on time.''
`` Who... who was there with me, he okay?''
Gunny Mac arced an eyebrow and said, `` Not sure sir, but all hands are accounted for. Think we may need to get the doc to check out your noggin.''
`` Fair enough.''
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[ WP ] He was the first one to enter and the last one to leave .
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When Adam first built his shelter it was a mere square room buried 200 feet. His business went well and as his company grew so did his shelter. It became a hobby as the threat of nuclear war departed. The humble start of a square room that smelled like wet grass and dirt became his underground center.
Rooms for growing, rooms for living, recreational expanses for movies and bowling. It was more luxurious than his house in comparison to the amenities. Where his house was a simple one story unit house.
It continued to grow and more money was spent keeping it pristine and safe from the local government from destroying it. His friends thought it was the best damn place to host a party. Turns out it was when Adam figured it might as well have been used.
Others felt like it was crazy to build a little kingdom under the dirt. It felt weird to make a shelter from a threat long passed. It felt like it was something that was not needed. That is until threat returned.
Friends to Adam hung closer to him with enemies closer. People stop criticizing and started praising. Adam felt a world on his shoulders. It came without any real warning.
When his friends and enemies alike were feeling brave and secure. Adam went into his shelter while the world above roared and screamed. Years would pass and more until one day he found that the world above could suit him again.
He was the first one to enter this new world. Adam searched and search and cried out. There was nothing and he found only one place could give him solace, give him shelter. So Adam was the first and only one to enter this new world and he would be the last and only one to leave.
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[ WP ] In the 3rd grade , you got the last piece of apple pie in the lunch line . The person behind you said `` You 've just made an enemy for life . '' 20 years later , you 've long forgotten about it , but they have n't , and their plan is finally ready .
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Greg is fairly certain that he is going insane. This could be because of a number of reasons in his life, the stress from his new job, his sudden obsession with serial killers or even the sheer number of phone calls his mother is leaving him asking whether or not he had settled down yet, reminding him yet again that he was already `` almost 30.'' But no, this time Greg felt this bout of insanity was being caused by one stupid unexplainable thing.
Greg was being followed by apples.
Were he to say this out loud to someone he was pretty sure they would think he'd finally lost it. Followed by a fruit? Surely this was just some type of paranoia, caused by stress or a lack of sleep or something. Coming across apples during the day was n't exactly new. But this was different. Everywhere he turned, there was some type of apple related product waiting for him. Apple pastries, apple bags, apple flavoured chapstick. Not to mention the sheer number of iPhones, flashing the recognizable logo his way. He could n't take a single step without coming across some from of apple. Not to mention the people with the apples... he could n't explain it. Each and every person who he saw with the fruit, the vendors, the people taking selfies, the god damn faces on advertisements recommending some new form of apple, each of them had the same electric pair of blue eyes. They seemed to follow him, watching as he made his way through his day. He could n't help but feel he had seen them before, but could n't remember where. It became too much, he did n't look up when he went anywhere, staring at the ground and never looking at anyone. Even at home he was n't safe, seeing commercials, Internet posts or even his own kitchen seemed to mock him, the people always staring with their strange blue eyes.
Now he hid, refusing to go outside, computer shut off and all the apples in his kitchen thrown out. He knew they would be back, somehow they always were. He sat on the couch, rigid with tension, eyes darting nervously with each noise in the small apartment. He could n't take anymore of the fucking things, if he had to sit here for hours simply so that he would n't see another of the fruit, he would. He sat in silence, refusing to even blink for longer than he had too. Then, it happened.
The door to his apartment burst open, revealing a large, round figure. As they breached the doorway, Greg realized it was a man wearing an apple costume. He had a maniacal grin on his face and he approached with careful steps, the costume clearing impeding his mobility. Greg's breath caught in his throat as their eyes met. That same electric blue stared out at him, the man finally reaching the front of the couch. As he stared down at Greg, his grin seemed to widen even further, almost too wide to be human. A weird aura seemed to hang around him, and the scent of apple filled the air.
Greg's mind raced. He was about to die and it was going to be because of a man in a giant apple costume. Why was he here? Why had none of his neighbours questioned his presence? Surely this was n't a normal sight to see? But despite the insanity of the situation, the man still stood in front of him, and now was pulling out.. what? A gun? A knife? But no, it was a... basket of apples? Greg blinked, staring at the man in horrified confusion. Finally, the man spoke.
`` Greetings Greg. It's nice to finally speak face to face, is n't it? It sure has been a while... but now you will truly understand what I meant when I said when I told you you had an enemy for life.'' He laughed as he reached for one of the apples. Greg tried to process the information. Enemy for life? As he tried to figure out what the fuck was going on, he managed to force a word past the lump of fear in his throat. ``... What?!''
The man stopped, the grin fading a bit as he looked over Greg again. The apple, poised as if to be thrown, was lowered, as he too gained an expression of confusion. He spoke, less confidently than before. `` You know... it's me, your enemy for life!''
Seeing the lack of understanding on Greg's face, he slumped a bit. `` Do you not remember? Third grade, you took the last piece of apple pie at lunch and I vowed eternal vengeance against you? Do you even know who I... it's me, Chris Pierce... remember?''
With those words a flash of a memory enters Greg's mind, of a sunny afternoon in third grade, when the kid he always thought was interesting, Chris, seemed to declare his hatred for him over the piece of pie. He had been crushed, as any child felt after a rejection... but he had n't put much more thought into it. He looked at Chris, who seemed really discouraged now, the apple costume seeming more ridiculous than before. `` Chris? Why the fuck are you wearing that? Was it... were you following me with apples? Over a slice of pie?'' His brain struggled to understand the situation he found himself in. Chris seemed to perk up as Greg recognized him, but smiled sheepishly.
`` Um, yeah in retrospect this seems pretty insane. I just put so much thought and effort into it that I did n't want to stop, y'know? Plus the costume was pretty expensive... and I was really annoyed about the pie thing.'' He rubs his arm, a blush flooding his face and he avoided Greg's stare. Greg was silent for a second.
`` You drove me halfway to insanity over a piece of goddamn pie? Dude if you get out of the costume and come with me right now I will buy you a piece of pie. Jesus Christ... you've been sitting on this for what? 20 years? What the hell man...'' Greg rubbed his eyes, exhausted by the hell he went through. Chris looks up, surprised.
`` R-really? Right now? Yeah I'm down for that. And yeah, 20 years... I have n't had too much going on besides this...'' he smiles, grabbing what looked like a spare change of clothes from under the apples in the basket. `` Mind if I use your bathroom?'' He asks, Greg just waving a hand in the general direction.
A few minutes later Chris comes out, dressed now in normal clothes. The two walk over to a nearby cafe, ordering the long-awaited slice of pie. As they wait, they discuss Chris' whole scheme, including the fact that he had discovered his weird power to make anything appear anywhere, which had lead to the sheer amount of apples wherever Greg went. The pair realized that they had some similar interests, and now that he was out of the weird costume, Greg realized Chris was n't hard on the eyes.
Greg may never want to see another apple again after this, and he made Chris return the apple costume, but he had a feeling it was the beginning of a weird but beautiful relationship.
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[ WP ] The Sun is going red-giant and will soon kill all life on Earth . We 've mastered space travel for ages , but now is time for the final departure .
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Dad received the news over the phone. It was a cascade of'Yes Sir Yes Sir', before he gathered mom and me. Pepito followed as well, tail wagging as my father nervously took him on his lap. His hands were shaking as he petted Pepito, and I could see the ceiling lights reflect in his eyes. I've never seen my father so close to crying, and I believed it was n't one of the drills from his gestures. We had drills every six months, or something like that. They were always annoying. Had to pack and then unpack, take all the food and then put it back- but I figured it was for the last time, because he called his own dad.
That's when I found out not everyone could go. They could n't put millions and billions out there. Funny how you never ask yourself this question until the time comes. You can take your suitcase, fill it up with your necessities, with something'for the trip', like a book, a notebook, and a pen, but my neighbor could n't take her baby girl. She told us in the taxi. Left her with an aunt, an aunt too old to go. Useless for whatever colony we'll form. An aunt that now had a baby girl to care for, along with Pepito.
Pepito did n't make the screening, and we all knew we'd have to say goodbye to him. So me and my mom took a run to buy him his favorite brand of food, enough to last him the week. We knew sooner or later that we'd have to depart from Pepito, with each'drill', but the neighbor was hoping and hoping that her baby would grow up to the'required age'. I ca n't even remember what that was. Seven? Something like that.
Anyway after getting Pepito's supplies- see, it was n't going to be longer than a week- we finished packing, and left. They were going to provide us with the suits, and all we had to do was dress comfortably. Look like we were going on a vacation, and not tell anyone that was n't close family. See, we'kind of' knew who was going- my neighbor's husband and my dad worked together, so we knew her, but we could n't just go around telling our last goodbyes to everyone. Could n't start donating our clothes or selling our furniture and houses- I guess it was because when everyone would do it, then it would raise panic.
Sally, the nice lady who cleans the street laughed when she saw us, asked if we were going on another vacation. And my mother had to lie under a smile again, and say that yeah, Sally, work's so hard we need to take a family break every now and then so we can look at each other in the eye. And Sally smiled, and told us, as always, to have a safe return. Every drill, we would miss for a week, even if it took us two days, just to keep the appearances. See, there were always different times for everyone, so it would never raise questions that people from different parts of the world all went'on holiday' at the same time. Sure, I may say world, but we both know here which countries I'm referring to.
But for the first time, I ran and kissed Sally on the cheek, thanking her. Our neighborhood looks so beautiful since you came here, Sally. I did n't care that she smelt bad. Sally was there searching through her pockets for a band-aid when I fell and scraped my knee. Sally used the money my mother gave her for watching Pepito last summer to get us ice-creams on that hot day, even if I knew Sally needed that money for food.
I always thought I'm not attached to people or places. We moved a lot, so I got used to the'good-byes', to not seeing where I grew up or the bathroom I discovered my first chest hair in again. But now it was... the whole thing, you know? The whole place where the places were put in that I was leaving. Or... maybe it's the fact that I knew I could always come back. Yeah, it's probably that. Like you know you live far away from grandpa but you know you can always just go by and say hello. And now we're giving the ultimate goodbye.
So, if someone manages to read this, congratulations! You survived this, or you're reading this as a traveler- I do n't know how that happens, or if you can even travel here anymore. Well, if you read this, you can, I guess. Can you even read English? If not, I'm sure your people are developed enough to figure this.
Regards from what used to be called Earth,
T.A.G
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[ WP ] `` So what happens if I press this button ? '' I asked . `` Nothing . '' She replied . I pushed the button in , grinning . `` It 's when you let go that things get nasty . ''
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`` They're gaining on us!'' Elise screams from the cargo hold before rushing back to the co-captain's seat.
Danielle stays silent as she navigates the ship through the rocky terrain of Gorgula, dodging the massive rock formations is not an easy job, let alone the fact she has a screaming girlfriend in her ear.
She narrowly misses an overhanging rock head on and scrapes the side of the ship, the sound of screaming and tearing metal rebounds off the interior of the ship and amplifies the sound, even further terrifying Elise. `` What the fuck! Dani, I swear to god if you get us killed on this fuc-'', the ship jerks a little too sharply around a bend and it knocks the wind out of Elise's chest. Dani smiles... oops.
Elise stays quiet as she shoves herself further into her seat, as if it could keep her safe. Danielle knows that if they want to survive, it'll take more than an old rickety seat to do that. The Gamigs are not the type of people to mess with. They are more technologically advanced than most in the galaxy, yet they still prefer the savage lifestyle of their ancestors. Picture Vikings, but with intergalactic space travel and more technology than one could ever hope for. Now multiply it by 100, and maybe you have a taste of who the Gamigs are.
Elise was never supposed to get wrapped up in this. She was never even supposed to KNOW about any of this. She's supposed to be safe on Earth, away from all the dangers of the galaxy. Alone and safe and, at. home. Dani did n't even know how she got into her ship in the first place, this was supposed to be a simple transaction with her ( not so good ) friend Rofamandrof. That is, until Elise came stumbling out of her ship, too bewildered by the alien planet to have the sense to wait until they were safely off the savage planet to talk to her girlfriend. The Gamigs are a mistrustful people already, so when they saw Elise and thought I brought back-up with me ( against our terms )... they did n't react well. I grabbed Elise on the way back in, while simultaneously suppressing Rofmandrof's fire ( damn I'm good ). He sent his guys after me, probably with instructions not to damage any of the precious cargo we came to trade, which would explain the lack of fire. Lucky us.
The ship closest behind me smacks into a low hanging rock formation and blows his right wing right off his vessel. It spirals out of control and does a complete 360 before slamming into the planet's surface. Now's my chance. With the nearest ship off my tail, the next is sure to take its place. I prep the ship, pressing all necessary flips and switches to do so. It must look so confusing for Elise and I have no time to explain to her what's happening.
`` What's going on?''
Bingo.
I do n't answer her right away until I have everything ready in place.
`` Dani!''
`` Hold on.'' These are my first words to her since she's come onboard.
I check behind me, they're coming up. And fast. I look first at Elise who, at this point, looks more angry than scared. Good. `` Elise, I need you to do something.''
She eyes me expectantly. `` When I say, I need you to press down on that white button over there, you understand me?''
She looks a little confused for a moment, but otherwise compliant.
The ship jerks hard a few seconds, and I make another sharp left towards a clearing. `` Almost.'' I tell her.
`` Whats gon na happen?'' She asks me, once again terrified.
`` Nothing,'' I say, lifting the ship further off the ground and angling it towards the sky, I give her a look and she knows to press it down, `` at least not until you release it.'' I say to her, holding her down on her seat despite there already being a strap over her chest.
Half a second later and we are rushing off out into the atmosphere of the alien planet.
Once we make it out of the planet's gravitational reach, I slow the ship down and set our course to Earth. Finally, my adrenaline really catches up to me and for the first time in forever I am terrified. Not of the angry drug-dealing Gamigs I left back on Gorgula.
They're small fry when compared with the idea of confronting my girlfriend with the fact that I may or may not be a drug dealing space dweller.
At least now she knows why I never let her come back to my apartment.
***
- Sorry if this is n't any good, I'm not a great writer and I've also never posted anything like this before. Sorry for any grammatical errors or things like that, I'm writing this on mobile so it's a bit difficult.
Thanks to anyone who read this all the way through, I really appreciate it. As I said, I've never posted any writing before so feedback is greatly appreciated ( just please do n't be rude lol ).
- Also, I just noticed I flip flopped on my pov, sorry about that, I'll fix it when I get back home to my computer.
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[ WP ] I am your best friend . Convince me that I need to die .
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“ We made a deal, me and you. You ’ re not the type to back out of a deal. That ’ s why you ’ re my friend. That ’ s why you ’ re my best friend. ”
The snow was coming down heavy outside the cabin. The fireplace crackled, sending a spiral of dying flames towards the coffee table between them. On the table were four items; one 750ml bottle of Glenlivet 18-year-old Scotch whisky, one drinking glass for the man on the left, one drinking glass for the man on the right, one 44 caliber revolver with 2 rounds loaded into unknown chambers.
“ We were thirteen. We aren ’ t thirteen anymore. We ’ ll be dead soon enough, why do you still want to do this? ”
“ I ’ m tired of being old. I knew I would back then and I was right. We ’ re 73 mate. What are we still holding on for? We had some good times. You maybe more than me, but I had my fair share of laughs. I ’ m tired now. I ’ m tired of not sleeping when I want to. I ’ m tired of sleeping when I don ’ t want to. I ’ m tired eating shit I don ’ t like. I ’ m tired of people looking at me like I need their help. I ’ m tired of needing their help. I ’ m tired of being old. I ’ m just plain tired… ”
He finished what was left in his glass as his friend looked on through glassy, melancholy eyes.
The fire crackled again, this time the flames illuminated the faces of two very different men. One seemed much more aged than the other. His skin was lined with deep wrinkles. His hair was wispy and ghostly white, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes were dark and sunken in. The other maintained a regal posture. His hair was merely peppered white and his eyes were as alive as the fire that was reflected in them.
One old man picked up the 44 caliber revolver and positioned the muzzle firmly against his temple.
“ If this is it, what makes you think I ’ ll pick that revolver up after you? ”
“ A promis— ”
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[ WP ] Write a story without knowing what it 's about , and without stopping to think about it .
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`` Just write.... Just write... Just write.'' The words echoed off the battered insides of my head. My brain throbbed and pulsed with each repetition of the word.
I picked up the pencil from the desk in front of me. My mind blank, I put the tip down upon the paper, and waited. Waited for what? Waited... I had no clue for what.
I tried to force words from my mind onto the paper, all to no avail. It lay there blank in front of me, the starkness of the crisp white paper with the light blue lines was intimidating to me. Words appeared in my mind, but none of them were right, none were good enough to write. I knew that there were words to be written.....
There had to be, right? After all, why else would this voice in my head be so insistent. It was getting louder and louder. `` JUST WRITE.... JUST WRITE... JUST WRITE.'' Each word rapidly following the first, a small pause only to repeat itself almost as if on a never ending loop.
A stranger's voice in my head making demands, demands that I could n't fulfill. A slow whimper escaped me turning into a soft growl of tortured pain, slowly building into a crescendo of suffering. A deep long scream erupted from the depths of my being. The noise echoed off the walls, reverberating, feeding itself back into my ears.
Never, not once, did it drown out that unknown voice. My mind slowly shattering I looked down to the desk, now covered in drops of liquid crimson. My left hand clenched tightly, nails digging into my palm, cutting my flesh, blood dripping from my clenched fist.
I could n't release the tension in my hand, and the more I tried the harder my nails dug into my skin. It was then I noticed that my right hand was moving, flying over the page that was previously blank. Words covered the page, words that I did not write, or at least that I did not recall writing.
My hand still moved over the page, the lead pressing harshly down upon the paper as each word was violently written out. I was afraid to read the words... Afraid to know what I... was it me... how could it be... was writing. I closed my eyes and a tremble of fear traveled down my spine as I heard the cackle of laughter and then the words...
`` I told you to write... Just Write... Just Write...'' the words grew in intensity and as I scrunched up in my seat I could still feel my hand moving. I no long had control of my body and that is when I began to scream.
The horrifying scream that battered the walls, that attempted to drown out the voice in my head, but it did n't work. I was nothing compared to what ever this was. I refused to open my eyes, clenching them tightly, attempting to hide from the madness that was happening.
If only the blackness had remained, but it did n't. Of course it did n't, things like this never remain hidden, and as I saw her pretty little face coming closer and closer. The scream that I was still releasing became a fearful groan of loss. I knew that I was done for before I could even truly see her face.
Her words still bounced around my head... and now I could see her mouth moving to the words... `` Just Write... Just Write..'' each short phrase punctuated with her cackle of laughter.
An icy cold chill slid over my spine, settling deep in the core of my being and yet I could feel an evil heat emanating from the figure in front of me. Burning in it's intensity, the smell of fire and brimstone filling my nostrils, I could still feel the numbing cold as my extremities felt as if they were slowly freezing.
Finally breaking the gaze of the evil being that had me in her grips. I opened my eyes only to realize that my head was now resting upon the desk, the paper with my words just inches from my face. Tears streamed from my eyes as I felt the deep wounds now in each of my wrists. I had no recollection of how they happened but I could feel the hot blood pouring from them, and onto my lap. The smell of sulfur was no longer present, but I could still remember the smell if only momentarily, before the coppery scent of blood filled my nostrils.
One last time I heard her voice, `` Just Write, I said...'' her voice faded and my eyes tried to focus upon the paper in front of me.
*I'm sorry... I'm sorry for doing this, I ca n't stay here... I ca n't remain in this constant pain....*
My mind scrambled at the realization that this was a suicide note, my own suicide note... but I was n't suicidal... how... I tried to focus once more, the note fading in and out of focus as I tried to find some clarity, where there was none to be had.
*I ca n't deal with the pain any longer. The suffering is too much. I'm sorry I'm taking the easy wa....*
My eyes no longer focused and those.. those are my last thoughts until now. I said to the man standing in front of me. He glowed and although I do n't know why, I knew I could trust him, unlike that woman who seemed to have only lived in my mind.
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[ WP ] An immortal being visits a hospitalized mortal .
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They knew not what they were losing.
Nurses and doctors bustled around him, looking to him like gleaming lights of hope, some tainted with the despair and pain of what they'd seen. Others had been run ragged by the stress of their work, their light dimming in fragments and shards. There was little he could do for them. A touch from him could restore their light - could take away the pain, bring back the joy of childhood, reinvigorate the men and women working for such a noble cause...
But only if they could see him, and none of them could. No mortal had ever been able to do so save for the one lying immobile in the bed. The being had never felt pain before, never truly understood fear or loss - but now, with his hands wrapped tight around the mortal's, he thought he might.
His power poured into the fragile human, boosting the beautiful, fragile light he'd seen and grown fond of. Only a decade ago that light had been the brightest of them all, shining so bright he'd had trouble looking at the man. Whenever he did, he could n't help but smile. This man had been the creature to teach him how to do that - to smile, to feel joy.
But now... Now he was slipping, and despite the power he expended, he could sense the human's light fading away.
He took a breath. Somewhere faint, in the back of his mind, he was surprised. He had never needed to breathe. He felt the warmth of the human's hand, slowly fading as he held it.
*No. I refuse. *
That single thought was infused with a determination only a celestial creature could hold, and the rest of his power poured into the man. It was a senseless decision, one that could only lead to his death for a single moment more with a man whose light would be gone soon regardless, but something in him could n't see the man die.
It seemed, perhaps, that whatever power the universe held agreed.
When the moment faded, the being opened his eyes to solid, corporeal hands clutching at his own. Gasps of surprise and shock from the personnel surrounded him, but he did n't care. He had eyes only for the man whose smile was wider than the universe itself, who was *back and alive*, and his heart warmed in a peculiar way he did n't quite understand.
But this time around, he had time to explore, to learn. They'd both been given a gift, and neither intended to waste it.
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[ WP ] One day on a crowded beach you find a message in a bottle . It reads , `` I 'm so sorry to have done this to you . '' You look up and the beach is empty . You are alone .
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The glowing green glass made itself visible through the sand just as he passed. His heart skipped a beat as his bare foot swept away a layer of sand to reveal what he had been hoping for.
A glass bottle with a stopper in place.
He plopped down right there and yanked open the top with excitement, knowing that this was it. This was the answer. He had been praying, begging, asking for an answer to his sorrows and his prayers were being answered by the universe in the form of a message in a bottle.
`` How poetic?'' He almost grinned as he unraveled the piece of paper within.
`` I'm so sorry to have done this to you.''
He re-read the message again as all the excitement he had just felt milliseconds prior was replaced by a sudden pang of anguish.
`` No. It ca n't be,'' his brow furrowed and his mind raced as he kept re-reading the message. Those words. Those damn words. Those spiteful words that she had spoken to him mere days ago when she tore is heart from his chest.
`` I'm so sorry to have done this to you, Nick. It's not how I wanted it to end. It's me, not you, I swear.''
He hurled the bottle back into the sea and collapsed in the sand, lost in despair. He swallowed the last of the Xanax pills he had picked up from the pharmacy and hurled into a ball under a rocky cove.
`` The universe is a cruel bastard,'' he muttered to himself.
It must have been hours before he came too, the cold air chilling his spine as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The beach was empty. He was alone. Again.
He swept the sand from his skin as he stood and then felt something fall at his feet. A single daisy with a long stem. He looked around again. There was no one but himself left on the beach and he could n't see where the flower had come from.
He twirled it in his hands a few times before balling it up and placing it in his pocket as he walked back towards his car.
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[ WP ] By day you 're an unassuming member of the community . By night you 're a deadly and famous assassin . Nothing can prepare you for the night you 're hired to kill your regular self .
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I just looked at the paper. My face was on it, and the man across from me said that he wanted me dead. Backstabbing motherfucker.
Making sure that my voice changer was working, I asked, `` How much?'' Anything less than a million, and I was n't doing it. Not that I would anyway.
`` Three million big ones. This guy is a massive threat to our company. Even if he is my son, I ca n't afford to let him stay alive.''
He showed me the money, and I counted it. Yep, three million, on one check. `` So, why exactly do you want him dead?''
`` He's not the son that I wanted. He constantly questions our company's morals even when I have thoroughly explained to him that we do what it necessary to keep us functioning.''
His brown eyes met my blue eyes, and I prayed that my mask and hood were enough to keep me hidden.
`` What exactly does your company do? I know the cover up, but what do you really do?''
He looked angry. `` I do n't have to answer that.''
`` I know, just curious.''
I pocketed the check and got ready to bolt.
`` Okay. The deed will be done. Keep an eye on channel 203 around 1:00 AM.''
`` Good. Thank you, Mr...''
`` Corvo. Just an alias. Based on a game I like.''
`` Ah. A fine alias.''
What a prick.
_______________________________________________________
*1:20 AM*
Outside his company's headquarters, I got ready to move. Pistol with silencer, knife, hoodie, mask, voice changer, boots, everything was there.
And so, I started climbing through the vents. Claustrophobia aside, it was n't too bad. Lax security, decent placement of cameras, and I only had to kill one guard. Hid his body in a bathroom stall.
And then, I reached his office. I looked through the vent grate and saw him. Watching the news as I told him.
``... another mass shooting has taken place, this time in the local movie theater near the edge of town.''
`` Fucking liar. Ran off with the money.''
I knocked on the vent grate. `` Actually, I'm here to inform you of the mission. It was n't a success.''
I kicked the grate down and entered the room, and he was clearly shaken. `` How'd you get here? Why are you here?!''
`` *Relax. * I'm just here to tell you that, as I said, the mission failed. I could n't get a decent read on his whereabouts. That being the case, I'm here to return the money.''
I pulled the check out and handed it to him.
`` You're the best assassin that I could get, the one who was able to kill political figures, and you ca n't even track down a fucking kid?!''
`` I'm sorry, sir.''
He turned away, and I made my move. Pistol out, shot him in the knee. He fell to the ground, and I stabbed him in the back.
As I grabbed the check, I looked to the corners of the room and shot the cameras. Then, I looked to the man at my feet, struggling to breathe. Must've punctured the lung.
Kneeling to the floor, I looked him dead in the eyes. I took off my hood and my mask, and said the words that made his face go absolutely pale, even paler than it was, with him losing blood.
`` Fuck you, dad.''
I left the building shortly afterward, but not before stealing a hard drive from his computer. I'm gon na be leaking it to some news stations soon. Keep an eye out.
-'' Corvo.''
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Shitty response with a shitty video game reference completed. Move along.
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[ WP ] The world is blessed with a superhero which has the capability to do almost anything : super strength , telekinesis , flight , teleportation , elemental control , and more . However , the superhero is an underachieving procrastinator that sucks at his job and has no motivation or drive .
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I have to be honest, when my alarm went of this morning, I really could n't think of a good reason to get out of bed. I really did n't feel like getting to work this morning. I have a really shitty job. I am one of the girls listening to the annoying complaints people have about their Netflix accounts. Yes, I know, not exactly what I expected when of working at Netflix either. I do n't really know what I actually was thinking, I mean I really want to be a writer, I want to write shows and somehow I just thought that if I would be working here I could show someone my stuff or I do n't know, get discovered or something, just a small step closer to what I actually want. But that's just not how it works. I have some ideas, but I never get myself to write anything more then maybe two scenes before I delete everything or get distracted or anything else. Internet huh? Best invention to kill creativity ever. And even if I did get something finished my social skills are similar to the chances of a dragon flying through your living room right now, so 0 and otherwise I could probably communicate better with the dragon then I can with about anyone. So no way that I could persuade someone to read my writings.
I was on the phone this night convincing my mom I was having a good time in the city listening to her telling me I was throwing away my life and the always repetition of how I should have finished college and should n't have wondered off thinking I could make something of myself. And the longer she's been nagging me about this, the more I'm considering coming back to the nice safe place I grew up in. At this moment I can hear a woman screaming for help 5 blocks away, the actual reason why I came to the city, making myself useful. My parents never approved, they wanted to keep their little girl safe, but they should n't have let me watch so much TV when I was young, bad against good and all that shit, I felt like I was responsible for taking care all the harm being done in the world. But I have to be honest, when I heard the woman scream, I rolled my eyes one second, before hanging up the phone.
I really dislike walking, I guess you get lazy when you can do it differently. Also a reason that I gave my mom, when I failed my drivers test 3 times. Why the hell do I need to drive when I can literally teleport everywhere I want. But you know, my mom was afraid that I would freak people out and I guess she is right, so walking it is. Except for these situations. I was in less then half a second on the crime scene, trying to figure out what was going on. It was a small grocery store I was at, a woman was screaming behind the counter while two guys were filling a backpack with money and candy and sodas, they must have had some crazy sugar addiction. They were wearing ski masks and one of them was holding a gun, pointing it at the cashier, probably the reason why she was screaming so annoyingly loud.
I swiped away the gun from the guy's hand and just took a moment to enjoy the reaction to the gun being pulled out off his hand and falling on the floor. I really love people reacting to my powers, especially in situations like this, where these guys have the feeling of total control and then the realization of being taken away of all power. Also they were assholes so it was okay to make them sweat a little.
The guy just looked startled, het looks at his hand, looks at the gun and then slowly turns his head towards me like I am the girl from The Ring or something, crawling out of the TV.
Like I said before I'm socially not so good and I'm definitely not the kind of girl who is able to do the hero kind of speech yelling at someone to give back the money. Also the woman was seriously freaking me out, she had a crazy pair of lungs, seriously. So do n't judge me for taking the easy way, so I used my mind control to get these fellows to put everything back and get the hell out of the store, call me lazy, but hey I was there to save the day so technically I already had collected my karma for the day.
The woman starts thanking me and calls me a saint and an angels and everything, while I'm just thinking of what I'm gon na eat when I get back home. At that moment I hear foot steps behind me and a man comes walking towards me from the back, he seems to have been a customer caught in the middle of the robbery, that I had n't noticed. He just starts to throw sentence after sentence at me enthusiastically. `` That was, that was seriously amazing, how did you even, wow, I just have to say that this was really really great. Do you have like, I mean, the way you were just doing all those things! Are you like a...'' He just stops talking in the middle of his sentence and looks weirdly at me, he squints his eyes, as if he is trying to see me better. `` wait, holy shit, I know you, I fucking know you!'' I seriously felt like I was having a heart attack at that moment. I mean I always though like the super hero costumes were ridiculous, so I never really thought of like actually wearing something like it. I think it just takes to much time, when you know someone needs help to actually go fucking change, like, eh, logics. Also the city was huge, and I was not really the person to stand out of a crowd or something, I was n't really noticeable. So what were the fucking odds right? `` You are one of the girls at the call centre, the Netflix call centre, I have seen you there sometimes, I remember you, because you were the girl who tripped and dropped her lunch all over the cafeteria, yes, that was great, I actually used that for an episode'' And then it hit me, he was a writer. He was a fucking writer. One of the writers doing Orange Is The New Black. Holy shit he was one of the people I wanted to be one day. A little light just moved into my life and I felt a spark of hope. So when he asked me for a coffee, you bet I said yes. But it really did n't go as I expected.
We went to a small place just around the corner. And then he started telling me his idea. `` You know, this is amazing, this is really great. I really ca n't believe this. I just got an opportunity to start writing a pilot, to start my own show, and I had some ideas but this, this really is perfect'' Yes I know, I really have to do something about my completely off expectations... `` You are gon na be my inspiration, I mean this is amazing, a Netflix series, about a superhero working at Netflix, I'm really sure they're gon na love this, you need to tell me everything about you, about your life, everything'' `` eh? what? You mean, like eh, a series? About me?'' I do n't know if you can read the surprise in my voice but, Jezus, this was really really not my plan for this evening...
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[ WP ] Zombie apocalypse has happened . The survivours have survived and are thriving , so much that people can go their entire lives with out seeing a zombie . You see one today .
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The walls have always given us protection. The ghouls pushed their limp corpses against it to no avail, and even the runners dared not test them. I've never seen a ghoul, only those who were here in the beginning, and those who leave the walls on runs have ever encountered the empty frames of people that stalk the wilderness. I frequently take walks along the walls, listening for any sign of ghouls, but I never hear anything. On today's walk, I am interrupted by a sound. It is a ghastly moan, produced from the tattered throat of a once living human. I peek through a small hole in the wall to see the ghoul. It's slumped shoulders and clumsy movements give it the appearance of a drunk. It hangs its head, arms dangling limply in front of it, and its feet seem as id it is going to trip over itself at any moment. But it keeps a steady pace, heading straight toward the wall. When it gets closer, I am able to see the horror before me. A mess of blood and flesh covers its face, its empty eyes stare forward. Its flannel shirt is torn open, and most of its lower torso seems to have been devoured before it turned. The husk of a man grows closer, and now out of view, pressed itself against the wall. This is when I hear the others.I can hear moaning emanating from the tree line, and a stampede of ghouls drag themselves to the wall. I slowly back away, I know that I should get help, but I'm too intrigued to leave. The walls have been completely clear for months, and those who work on the walls usually stay along the gate, where the supply runs go in and out. The snipers wo n't come unless I warn them, but I've never seen a ghoul before. I gaze into the hole once more. The ghouls are everywhere, and a seemingly endless stream of them pours out of the forest. Two dozen. Fifty. Ninety. One Hundred. Oh God. I turn to get the snipers, and I hear a distinctive clicking noise among the moans and raspy screams. A runner... With a lack of snipers to intimidate it, it climbs over the fence, landing right beside me. It's even less human than the ghouls. Unlike the unthinking gaze of the ghouls, it's eyes have focus, and thought. It's human legs are gone, having been replaced by black parasitic tissue to make it more dexterous. It snaps it jaws and clicks, staring into my eyes. I turn to run...
I feel hungry. I walk towards the sound of prey. I am surrounded by allies. I hear a noise in a house. I walk into the door and try to break it. The elder opens it for me. I see prey... my sister... I attempt to leave but I have lost control of my body. I pull the crying little girl towards me a dig my teeth into her flesh. I hear her cries and taste her blood, feeling her flesh go down my throat. The infection takes over, and the last thing I hear before I fade is `` Michael, please...''
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[ WP ] She would invade Hell itself to get them back .
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Maybe, in a way, it ’ s my fault. Maybe I shouldn ’ t have drunk so much, maybe I shouldn ’ t have forgotten to pick them up from school, maybe I shouldn ’ t have missed Grace ’ s soccer games or Henry ’ s piano recital. But those are my kids, and I would do anything for them. That ’ s why it hurt so much when I lost custody of them during my divorce.
If you think divorces are bitter, try getting one from the Devil. I don ’ t mean that my ex-husband is metaphorically a devil, he is the literal Devil. He got a job in Hell straight out of college and spent his days assigning punishments for souls who sinned too much to get into Heaven. He was so good that he got promoted to the CEO after a few years there. The official title of the CEO of Hell is “ the Devil ”, but I just tell people that he ’ s a CEO. It sounds more impressive, even though I ’ m sure you need to be more sociopathic to be a regular CEO than to be the Devil.
Most of his family are in the Afterlife business, so I guess it made sense that he would follow suit. His older sister is a lawyer who works in Purgatory. She helps the souls of moderate sinners who are doing time in Purgatory, expiating their sins, before they get into Heaven. She ’ s negotiated a hell of a lot of sentence reductions for moderate sinners. She once had a case with a woman who hit a child with her car because she was drink driving. She guilted God by reminding him that he did nothing to stop her husband from abusing her thereby causing her to drink and become suicidal and made him feel so bad he took her sentence down from 10 Earth years in Purgatory down to 2.
My ex-husband ’ s mother and father volunteer in Heaven. They used to be partners in a law firm, but after spending most of their lives in Corporate Law, they got tired of being typecast as “ Soulless Lawyers ” so now they spend their days in Heaven serving food to children who died very young, before they could commit any real sins. They ’ re a lovely couple, I wish my marriage had been more like theirs. If he treated me the way his father treats his mother I would never have so much as looked at a bottle of Vodka.
They told me Heaven is beautiful. Surprisingly, though, there aren ’ t as many Christians there as you would think. Apparently going to church doesn ’ t make you a good person. Shocking right? Also, apparently, Atheism isn ’ t even considered a sin in Heaven, not since God admitted that he was too busy to leave Heaven, come down to Earth and undeniably prove his existence.
And then there was Antoni Christianson ( his friends affectionately call him Antichrist for short ), the former love of my life, wasting his life away in Hell, with my children. I need to get them back, they are all I have to live for since he left me. I know I ’ m not perfect, but I do love my kids. I know I can change if I have them back, I would even invade Hell just to see them again.
When Antoni got his promotion we all moved to Hell to support him. I never saw myself as a housewife, but being the ruler of the underworld pays surprisingly well, so there was no need for me to work. That was back in a simpler time, when we were still in love, when the only pain I felt was from the scorching heat of the underworld, not the even more crushing pain of heartbreak.
Since the divorce, I moved back home with my parents. I forgot how nice it feels to be above ground not surrounded by billions of hate-filled souls. They welcomed me back with open arms despite me literally having moved to Hell to be with my partner. Considering my parents are devout Christians, I know it must have been so hard for them to see me go to the place they spend their entire lives trying to avoid. But the love of a parent is unconditional, and I am so grateful they welcomed me back. They ’ ve been helping me get sober, and deal with my anger issues. The day Antoni left me I through a glass bottle at his head. I missed, but a shard of glass hit Grace, narrowly missing her eye. I can never be like that again. I don ’ t want to be like that.
This is all Antoni ’ s fault. I know I ’ m the one who can ’ t stay sober, and yeah I have anger issues, but at the very least I didn ’ t cheat on Antoni. I quite literally moved to the depths of Hell for him, I quit my job to raise the kids and how does he repay me? Stuffing himself inside of countless women who have just found out their loved ones are going to Hell. I caught him with a stripper once ( she just found out her deadbeat dad was in Hell and she was never going to get his approval before he died ) in my own bed. My. Own. Bed.
Then I found out it she wasn ’ t the only one. Cheryl, Antoni ’ s PA, is a huge gossip so it wasn ’ t hard to get the truth out of her. Apparently he ’ s been doing this for years. That ’ s when I started drinking. Like I said, I ’ m not perfect, but it was the only way I could deal with it. He ’ s the only man I ’ ve ever really loved and he does that to me. Serves me right for expecting the Devil to have a conscience. So I started drinking, and I didn ’ t stop.
It all fell apart after that. I was getting so drunk every night I couldn ’ t even look after my kids properly. Antoni eventually left me, and took Grace and Henry with him. My babies. I miss them so much. A mother ’ s love is wild and dangerous. I would do anything to get them back. Including going straight to Hell and taking them back.
There ’ s no point trying to appeal the custody ruling. The courts weren ’ t going to overturn their decision to give Antoni full custody. Even if I could prove that I was a fit mother, they were scared that Antoni would pull some strings and send their relatives to Hell when they died.
The only person that was going to get my babies back was me. So after months of feeling sorry for myself and trying to sober up, I had had enough, and I went straight to Hell to confront my ex-husband. I went to our old house, no longer a home to me, and knocked. The door opened, and I expected to see Antoni or one of my babies. A young woman stood in the doorway. Blood rushed to my face. She was very young, highly questionable as to whether she was of legal age. She had the stupidest little smirk on her face. Her eyes widened and it was clear that she recognized me instantly.
“ Antoni doesn ’ t want you here, ” her high pitched whiny little voice hurt my ears.
“ I ’ m not here for Antoni, ” I said, roughly pushing past her.
“ Grace, Henry, it ’ s mommy, are you hear? ” I shouted in the hallway.
No response.
“ You need to leave, ” blondie said. I stared at her, really getting every detail of her. She was a very cliché petite-blonde-that-your-husband-leaves-you-for type of girl. I didn ’ t respond to her, but I kept searching for my children.
“ They ’ re not here, ” she whined, rolling her eyes.
“ Well then where are they? ” I struggled to keep my voice at a reasonable volume. I hated her already, but murdering her wasn ’ t going to look good considering I ’ m trying to prove I ’ m a fit mother.
They weren ’ t in their rooms, nor the living room or kitchen.
“ Antoni took them out for ice cream. I think you should go ” she said softly, almost pitying me. I glared at her from across the room. This little b***h gets my sloppy seconds and thinks she can tell me what to do. It was infuriating. So infuriating that my body reacted before my brain could, and I leapt at her, pinning her to the ground and wrapping my hands around her neck.
I hated her so much. I hated him so much. I just wanted my kids back. That ’ s all I wanted.
The door burst open as blondie began to pass out.
It was Antoni.
“ Get off of her! ” He shouted. I didn ’ t listen.
He pulled a gun out.
And pulled the trigger.
I died.
So Purgatory sucks. I thought for sure I would end up in Hell, but Antoni really hates me so he convinced his sister to get me a long sentence here so he could keep me away from the kids. They saw me that day, I was so blinded by rage I didn ’ t even notice they were standing behind him, watching me try and murder the little blonde girl. I was mortified that they saw me like that again, and I was glad he killed me.
After my first year in purgatory, to my great surprise, Antoni came with the kids to see me. It was clear he didn ’ t want to be there, but he brought them to see me anyway. My heart was full of love that day. Although I couldn ’ t touch or hold my children, because I was dead and a spirit, it was the most alive I ’ d felt in a long time.
He never said why he decided that they can visit me every now and then, but I think I know why. He knows that he didn ’ t just hurt me, he took away my reasons to live, and even the Devil can understand a mother ’ s love. It ’ s not perfect, but it is real and all consuming. Seeing them every now and then is enough for me. For now.
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[ WP ] A story told through Amber Alerts on a kids phone
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*9:00pm*
AMBER ALERT- 13 Y/O JONATHON SADLER MISSING IN ORLANDO, DARK BROWN HAIR, BROWN EYES, A SCAR ON FOREHEAD.
*9:12pm*
AMBER ALERT- SEARCH CONTINUES FOR 13Y/O JONATHON SADLER
*9:15pm*
BOY MATCHING DESCRIPTION OF AMBER ALERT HAS BEEN FOUND WANDERING DAYTONA BEACH- POLICE UNSURE.
*10:00pm*
JONATHON SADLER STILL REPORTED MISSING- IDENTITY OF BOY THOUGHT TO BE JONATHON STILL UNKNOWN.
*10:11pm*
SEARCH FOR 13Y/O DEEPENS AS POLICE DESPERATE FOR CLUES. BE VIGILANT.
*10:15pm*
JONATHON SADLER'S MOTHER MAKES DESPERATE PLEA `` Please Jon- come home. I'm not angry''
*10:32pm*
MAN WANTED IN CONNECTION WITH MISSING BOY.
*10:46pm*
BE VIGILANT- ARREST WARRANT OUT FOR ANDREW SADLER OF ORLANDO. LAST SEEN IN BLUE RANGE ROVER.
*11:00pm*
BREAKING- BODIES FOUND IN ABANDONED PARKING GARAGE
*11:32pm*
AMBER ALERT SEARCH CALLED OFF
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[ WP ] You explore an overgrown abandoned town in the middle of the woods .
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As I lumbered through the thick grass, I finished my last Marlboro, rolling the cherry until it finally fell on the ground. I stuffed the butt into my back pocket and took a good look around.
`` Why does this seem familiar? ``, I thought.
Ignoring the memory lapse, I kept moving. The meadow was a vibrant flurry of greens and what seemed like millions of wild flowers. I kicked a few and watched the pedals blow away with the breeze. It was beautiful and tragic at the same time, knowing those flowers will now wilt and die away, as all things do.
I watched the final purple spec float away and noticed what seemed to be a path, although it obviously had n't been walked in years. It was almost as if I was being led.
So I followed.
The path was anything but beaten. Thin brown vines twisted and spun together across the way like contortionists. Finding a spot to sneak through the chaos was getting tougher as I went along. Scratch after scratch, step after step, I made my way.
At last I stepped into the open and could n't believe my eyes.
`` Holy shit'', I laughed.
There were about 2 dozen buildings side by side and in a perfect circle, overgrown even more so than the path. Houses with porches and rocking chairs, a `` General Store'', storage sheds and what appeared to be a big pull barn at the back of the lot. None of the houses were painted. There were n't any walkways or roads, no power lines, nothing to connect this place with modern society.
I reached into my pocket and pulled a cigarette out of its box. As I watched the flint spark the fluid of my lighter, I thought, `` Was n't I out of smokes?''
Suddenly, there was abrupt rustling in the tall grass in the center of the town. I did n't notice the patch until then, so it startled me even more. I inched closer, craning my neck so see, when all of a sudden the grass shifted all at once. I dropped my cigarette as I jumped back.
A spooked pheasant, not uncommon around here.
In that moment, I instantly felt uneasy, as if I had eyes on me.
Pt. 2
I slowly knelt down to inconspicuously pick up the cigarette I had dropped. Trying to see any movement out of my peripheral vision, I burnt two knuckles.
`` Shit!'' I exclaimed to myself. `` Why did I even come out here?''
And then it hit me. Why did I come out here? I did n't have the faintest memory of arriving. My heart sank into my gut.
The feeling of being watched became much more dense. It was as if I could hear someone breathing, which seemed impossible because my exhales became more of a low groan at this point.
I knew what I had to do.
`` Who's out there?''
The darkening woods around me gave no answer. Only ominous creeks from shifting trees, and the sound of what few leaves were left.
I decided to move on. Closing my eyes and tilting my head back, I practiced the 4-7-8 breathing method. I used this often. My anxiety forced me to seek out help for my stress, but my pride would n't allow me to take prescription medications.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
I repeated this process 3 or 4 times, opened my eyes walked toward the nearest house.
I opened the door only to be greeted by the overwhelming smell of wet mold. To my surprise, the place was full furnished; Dining room table, beds, chairs, curtains, etc. Nothing out of the ordinary, so I moved onto the next house.
And the next.
And the next.
Every single house was a spitting image of the last, all damp and unwelcoming. All expect one.
As I peaked in, I realized the fifth house in the circle looked exactly the same as the others outside, but the inside was in pristine condition. Drapes freshly ironed, blankets folded over the backs of chairs, a clean skillet sitting on the stove.
`` What the f-'' BAM.
The front door forcefully slammed shut in my face. I staggered backwards as I held my hand over my heart. My foot slipped off the porch stair and sent me to the ground flat on my back.
White light.
Ears ringing.
I finally opened my eyes. On my chest laid a small notebook, bound in thin, blue dyed leather. I found the strength to lift my head and read the front cover.
`` My name is Lydia.''
Pt. 3
Terror engulfed my every cell. The high pitch in my inner ear heightened as the forest fell silent. Not a single leaf seemed to move.
I painfully sat up and inched my hand down my leg to my ankle. It was broken. It had to be. The white hot pain was unmistakable. As I writhed in pain my memory took me back to wrestling practice when I broke my thumb. Unmistakable.
`` Ahhhh,'' I angrily said to myself.
I closed my eyes.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
And the pain was gone. A slight tingle ran up my leg and I felt instant relief.
`` What the fuck?''
I was starting to question my sanity. I pulled another cigarette out of its box.
That's when I stopped questioning myself, and started wondering where I really was. I still could n't remember.
I cracked the small notebook open, peeking inside at first, then opening it completely. There were a lot of random notes. Numbers, thoughts, addresses, obviously someone's pocket book.
As I slid the fifth page open, I saw that familiar passage once again, with a small addition.
`` My name is Lydia, and I'm here to help you.''
I stood up as quickly as I could. I had already forgotten about my mystically healing ankle, that was the least of my concerns. Who was this girl? Or was she a woman? It was unclear, although the handwriting was the neatest I had ever seen.
`` Okay Lydia, I'll follow along.'' I felt stupid talking to a notebook. `` What are you here to help me with?''
Just the the door of the fifth house creaked open, slowly, but deliberately. The ringing had finally stopped, and the light sensitivity from my fall slipped away.
I walked as quickly as I could to the porch and stepped inside. It was all still there. The drapes freshly ironed, blankets folded over the backs of chairs, a clean skillet sitting on the stove. The air was as tense and uninviting as ever, but I dragged my other foot over the threshold and closed the door.
The chair in the corner of the room was faced directly towards me, it had n't been the first time I looked in. Not knowing what to do, I flipped through the rest of the notebook.
Not a single page had anything on them. They seemed perfectly crisp, as if they had just come off the press. I stuffed it into my back pocket and approached the chair. As I placed my hand on the top left corner, I noticed it was secured to the floor. So I pushed with both hands.
A trap door had been nailed to the legs of the chair. The door was seamless when closed. The boards were the perfect length.
I lifted the door and the chair slammed on the wood, propping the floor open. There it was again.
`` My name is Lydia, and I'm here to help you. Look, but please do n't touch.''
Pt. 4
I sat down on the edge of the door, letting my legs hinge at the knees and dangle.
As dark as it was, I could tell the ground was very shallow. I lowered myself and started looking around. Hunched over, I squinted as my eyes adjusted. And then I saw it.
A small steep stairwell that led to a 7 foot tall iron riveted door. Although it was pulled shut, I felt that it was open. I was n't surprised that it was open. I'm not going to be surprised by anything again.
I pushed the door open and walked into the dirt floor room. There was a small table, blankets on the ground. A few pillows. And chains. About 15 sets of chains, each anchored into the thick cement wall.
The ever watching presence was actually with me in this room. I could feel it. I could feel her.
`` Come out.'' I said invitingly. `` I'm here now.''
And she stepped out of the darkness.
A small Mexican girl, probably no more than 7 years old, slinked out of the dark corner.
`` Are you Lydia?''
She nodded.
`` What happened to you?''
She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and clapped her little hands twice.
FOOM. The room illuminated with flashes of people I had never met. Every set of chains kept a young girl firmly secured. Men unlocking them and taking them out. Children being pushed aside like napkins thrown in the trash.
Lydia was still standing there. I had forgotten about her in the flashes.
`` I need your help.'' She finally said in the softest voice you can imagine.
`` Was that you replacing my cigarettes?''
She nodded.
`` And my ankle?''
Again.
`` Okay. What do I do?''
`` Come with me.''
She led me back to the meadow where our story began. She showed me what happened here.
The town was built in the middle 30's as an underground sex ring. They would make money bringing in children into the country and selling them to the wealthy men in the area. And when they were done with the children, they would bury them in the meadow. They were all forever little purple flowers.
I finally knew where I was. I walked back to my car and pulled the notebook out of my pocket.
I now plan on taking this information to the police. Hopefully they can close as many missing person cases as possible.
As I sat in my car, I pulled another cigarette out of its box and sparked it up.
The End
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[ WP ] At age 18 each person meets their soul-mate . For centuries everyone has fallen in love with theirs . You 're the first person to not love yours .
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I still remember when I first met her, it was about a week after my 18th birthday.
My friends told me about this girl that would be just perfect for me, and since that we both have n't found our soul-mates yet, I gave into the pressure and called her for date. She said yes of course
About a week later I went on a date with her, then I saw one of the prettiest girls I had seen in my live. I had a great time and she was a wonderful woman, but I had this feeling that this is n't the one. I just did n't click with her. But I just thought that everyone had this at first and when I really get to know her, it will come.
We went on more and more dates, but I kept feeling it. But since she seemed to have a great time and did seemed to love me, I just thought it was me, and the love for her will come.
After a year of dating I got pressured by my friends to ask her to marry me. Since all my friends where married within the year, and did n't get why it would take me so long.
I ask her, since I already date her for so long, and who else was I going to marry? I kept telling myself you will love her when you two are married. There is something magical about getting married, and then everything will be fine.
I lived a normal live, made a family. Got a girl and a boy. Worked at a job, while my wife stayed home taking care of the kids and what not. But still I did not love my wife. I kept wondering is there something wrong with me? Did I do something wrong? Is there someone else I was suppose to marry?
Year later, my wife died at age 83. My kids now got families of their own. But the sad thing is I never loved my wife, I am not sure if I am the only one on earth or that I'd married the wrong woman and that she also married the wrong man. But I ca n't stop feeling like I did something wrong in my life.
My first attempt in this sub, not sure if its any good, but I hope you enjoy it. also I apologize if there are grammar mistakes. English is not my first language
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[ WP ] `` sir we 've finally done it , we have made a portal to another universe '' `` good and seeing as I 'm the head scientist here I will go first '' `` sir why are you back ... . '' `` get the flame thrower Barry ''
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The Doc rushed in, his hazmat suit all torn, helmet off and hair all messy. Well, the hair was always messy in any case, but his eyes were 50 % wilder than usual. He yelled at me again: `` Barry give me the damn flame thrower!!''
`` B-but Doc'' I stammered, wondering if he took his meds before starting the experiment `` we do n't actually HAVE a flame thrower!''
`` That's all right Barry'' he patted me on my shoulder like he always did when he was thinking. `` I will think of something!'' he said, rushing off through the experiment room doors, still half dressed in a torn hazmat suit.
So there I was. The pink-purple light of the portal at the end of the big room swirled in a stable pattern, my head of research having just run off, the lab assistant's eyes on me. I was, after all, the Under Chief Science Advisory. I had to do something.
`` So what the hell do we do now?'' I asked loudly.
`` The portal is stable, Barry'' Janine, the Second Energy Assistance chimed in. `` I think we can keep it open'' she paused `` if you want''.
My mind was racing. The Doc had came back without a helmet. Must've been a breathable atmosphere. Well, this was my chance. I could shut it all down. Or I could become a science legend. Barry Stagarinov, hero of inter-dimensional travel! It sure had a ring to it! Especially as my main contribution to this entire project has been saying `` yes'' to the doc and asking the interns to bring him coffee always in time.
`` Barry, you ca n't!'' Enrico, the First Xenobiology Advisor yelled when I took the first step. `` You saw the doc! There must be something terrible out there!''
But it was too late. My steps had turned into a run. I had to be the one that actually names Universe X2. I was going to call it... Barryverse!
Despite the yells and cries of the team, I ran to the purple-pink light. It was neither cold nor hot and when I extended my arm through it, there seemed to be a slight pull, like a hand held vacuum. My fingertips where almost through. This was it. I took a deep breath and went in.
Just before everything in my head exploded, I heard the Doc's voice: `` Barry, noooooooooo!''
LIGHT! Purple pink light and ginger candy cane lightning! Sense and smell and colours combined and I was touching the colour pink, tasting light and I really do believe I could see my own back, there in the place between universes. I probably spent a few mental years in that state but apparently it was a second in real-time because just like that, I was through the portal.
I was thrown clear of the gate, which was at the top of a green hill. I fell down its slope, which was full of thorny bushes and briars. My lab coat and pants and palms got thorn on those, while I was trying to arrest my descent.
Finally, I came to a rest about 20 meters down the slope. Everything was still spinning in my head and I could still smell the beety aromas of the colour purple from my time in the portal, but my body knew which way was up and started getting back there. I stood, facing the hill, on top of which the portal was spinning serenely, and wiped my bloody palms on the torn pants.
`` Creature, may this one be of aid?'' a soft, raspy voice asked, just behind me. And in perfect English to boot. I froze. This ca n't be real. Or wait, it IS the Barryverse. Everything can be real here. I decided to meet the superior species of this universes' Earth.
I turned around. In front of me was... well. It was wearing a brown striped tie on a white shirt. It had three pens sticking up from a front breast pocket. One red, one blue and one green. Its brown belt was studded and on the buckle, cast in bronze, big English letters, was the word `` BigBill''.
And it was, unmistakably, a big blue furry spider. Eight multifaceted eyes were regarding me above two big mandibles, from a head set on top of a shirted body with 4 hands which ended in small, clawed tips. Under the belt began a bulbous torso, resting on four legs. The belt itself was holding up brown pants which covered the legs and part of the torso.
In one of the clawed hands it held what looked like a briefcase. In another, a newspaper.
`` I say again, creature, there are internal liquids becoming outside of you!'' it rasped from it's mandibles. `` You are in obvious need of superior intellectual assistance!''
I took a step back and looked around. At the bottom of the hill was a street and beyond it, houses. Big, mortar and stone and steel houses, quite normal apart from the oval shape they had. Oval, segmented vehicles moved around on eight wheels. More spider people were stopping or coming closer to me to stare. A big billboard on a nearby building was flashing `` Guzba flydrinks! The liquid for a modern Spiderbro!'' alternatively with a picture of a serious looking spider person over which the words `` Help out a fellow creature today!'' was printed in big blocky... slightly oval letters.
`` I-I am..'' I stammered, taking another step back. Barryverse was full of sentient friendly spiders??! How would the science world react?
Before I got my answer, I heard a mad yell from the top of the hill behind me. It sounded like the Doc! I turned and sure enough, he was there, just arrived out of the portal. He had followed in the trail I had made though the thorny bushes and was running full tilt for me. With him were Janine and Enrico.
They were each holding a lighter in their right hand and an aerosol spray can in their left.
`` What are you doing Doc?'' I yelled.
`` Get away from them Barry! Do n't you see??! It's full of.. of... SPIDERS!!'' Doc yelled at me, spittle flying madly from his lips. Janine and Enrico's eyes were big on seeing the spiderpeople, and their foreheads veins were twitching.
`` You were right Doc!'' Janine said a little bit crazily `` there is only one thing we can do in this universe!''
I tried to step in between them and the spider guy. The creature had taken a step back and was regarding us all curiously. Oval cars were stopping in the street nears us.
`` Yes Doc, you were right'' Enrico added. `` Let's do it!''
They pushed passed me, lighters held high towards the spider creatures. At an invisible sign, the three humans pushed the caps of their spray cans and yelled:
`` We must kill them with FIRE!!!''
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[ WP ] A prolific serial killer active for many years is concerned about his run of good luck . Never discovered , he has also never seen the slightest mention of his work reported on in any media . With today 's victim he gets a clue as to why ...
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I can hardly remember my first time any more. It was so many years ago, back when people were still afraid of the dark. Back when leaving the safety of the light meant wolves, and cliffs, and ancient crevasses. It was so easy; locate your target, the ones who were too weak to carry on, the ones too old to move fast, the ones too riddled by lameness to fight back. Come up behind them, as they were alone, and then... *grip*. A tightness of the wrist, a struggle... and it would all be over.
I took pleasure in it then, back when it was just the predator... and the prey. Not in the killings, never in the killings, but in the job well done. In the careful spotting of those who suited my needs. In the stalking of the prey, even through the deepest forests and the thickest fogs. In the silent approach, and the clean dispatch of the quarry. I was the hunter, the finest hunter. The hunter who was never captured. I took pleasure in my success.
Over time, of course, my prey advanced and so I did as well. They saw the dangers in the darkness, and so they brought fire with them that it would flee before their presence, and I would flee with it. They met the wolf on the trail, and saw that he would make a worthy opponent but a worthier friend, and so the wolf became the dog, and he would hunt me down and chase me away from his master. They saw the waves smash against the cliffs, and planted their torches on pillars of stone that their ships might never crash again, stealing hundreds from my clutches. Even my crevasses, my great ice snares, were hammered shut and bridged over and marked with flags, that no more would feel my tender embrace as they breathed no more.
I hungered then, as my prey grew longer teeth and fiercer claws. I did not feed, for there was none to devour. I did not kill, for none walked alone. The pleasure had gone, this was a hobby no longer. I was a professional now. I knew I had not been discovered, I knew that I was careful and methodical. They might find a body now and then, but I stole them away and hid them whenever I could. This was no longer an option. I needed to do something I had never done before; I needed to learn.
I walked into the lighted areas, and stole the life away from those who lay alone in their beds. As the fear began to flow anew, I learnt I needed a tool. When I was the dark, the jaws, the snapping ice, I was a weapon unto myself. But now, there must be a contraption, a device. Something befitting my new status. I chose a simple rope, small and portable, easy to conceal but present everywhere. When the purple lumps arose'round widows' necks, I would take my rope and wrap it'round them too. When men tripped in the bogs and their friends left them for dead, I would drag them down and ensure their friends were right. When the husband beat his wife too hard for the last time, it was with my rope that he was strung up to dry like a bushel of herbs in the tree, until I cut him down into my tender arms once more.
And still I was unknown. Still I was the shadows in the light, the darkness in the fire, the hidden dangers in the commonplace. I knew I was good, but... was I truly this good? Would I truly never be discovered? These killings, the endings of these lives... was there no end? I felt compelled, I could not stop. I must perform this duty, for't is it not the duty of the predator to thin the herd?'T was it ever thus that the frost must snip the dainty flower from her stem? But, would there never be a summer again? Would the predator not be speared and his pelt worn with pride by the strong hunter who claimed him? I entertained not these thoughts of weakness.
My prey learnt fast, and so I learnt faster. My tool was no longer adequate, they had better tools now, better defences. I must keep my edge, and so I gained one. A strange new stone, orange and gleaming, heavy and malleable. My prey bore them, and wore pieces'round their necks to keep them safe from my influences. The fools. They wore their discs of orange stone on threads of my ancient weapon! Did they think they could remind me of my failings with their talismans and charms? Yet still, I found it easiest to take those no-one would miss. My harvest was good, and though the wolves were now the dogs, there were other creatures less easily tamed. I prowled the edges of each battle-site, and watched as men bled and monsters fed. And in the chaos, I would stalk through the red mist, and take my prize before the tigers claimed their own, as is my right. By right of conquest, I claim my prize!
My staff of wood, tipped with this new orange stone pierced my prey, and I reaped my harvest as the farmers reaped their own. No longer did they forage in the forests for their food, but this was no matter for I was not of the forests any longer. Now I was the snake in the long grasses, striking them down in their new-sown fields. I was the drought in the air that starved their children, feeding my hunger as it grew ever larger. I reaped what they sowed, but still they grew more numerous.
My orange stone was so unnatural. So unlike all others. The jaws of the tiger were simply an accident, but my spear. This metal tip? How could they not see my reapings? How had I not been caught? I must be bolder, for when the prey can not see the predator, the hunt is a mere slaughter. I took a new weapon, a metal black as the night I once dominated. Ferrum, the quarry called it. A worthy name for a worthy metal. It held an edge thrice finer than aeris, and twice as durable. I fashioned a long strip of ferrum, and harnessed it to a hilt of finest yew. I swung my new strips of metal against the foe, and he fell in battle against his newest enemy; himself. Prey fought prey, and the predator became a scavenger as I picked like the noble vulture upon the fields of the dying. Truly, there was a glut, and I would harvest my crops with alacrity and pleasure.
Something was wrong. Terribly terribly wrong. I would stalk like the night through midday battles, stealing my human wheat away one stalk at a time, and yet I was not found? No matter how bold, the human capacity for ignorance excels me! Truly, I must be bolder, I must be found!
My isærn had fallen behind me now, gone and forgotten as I picked up this new tool. Would this be the one? The one that would end this game, and I could finally be free? At the touch of a lever, a pellet would disappear into the bodies of my victims. They would fall, and before they hit the ground I would have taken my prize. Sweet victory in defeat, this would surely have me caught, and at last I would be free. There was no way this could be seen as natural, this was not the work of the ice snare in the darkness, nor the fire in the stones. And yet, no matter how many I harvested, there was always another crop to reap. I must adopt a new tool, a new weapon, a new device to harvest my everlasting fields. And so I took my iron once again, and worked it anew into my final great tool. I hammered and I bolted, and within the cavity I filled a new metal, a new substance of great power. Something that could allow me to finally harvest the last of my crop. It had been called many names, but the latest was uranium. I filled my newest tool, and with one fell swoop gathered my greatest crop, but it was still not enough. I filled my bomb with a still greater power, that of plutonium, and took another bumper harvest.
And at last, they see. They see they can not feed me, for I am hunger. They can not fill me, for I am the void. And at last, as they swear never again to use the Uranium, nor the Plutonium, I hear my name. At last, I have been discovered. And at last, they pledge to stop me.
They can not stop me. They will never end my harvest. I can not cease in my duty, for there is no one else to take it up. I can not refuse to reap the harvest, for if I do not then the new growth will choke the old and the fields will overflow. But, at last... they will make it a challenge once more for Death to claim its prize.
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[ WP ] In the process of summoning their dark god , a few cult members mumble the incantation and usher forth Steve , from Accounting .
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The air was thick with the stench of blood. Lamb caracasses lay strewn across the small patch of foliage outside the dimly lit tower block, their blood and sinew creating a myriad of colours and textures on the browning autumn grass.
David began to intiate the ceremony by applying blood to the foreheads of the congregation, there were 14 of them in total. The mood was heavy, a mixture of fanatical belief, hysteria and a smidgeon of fear but David stood strong, a beacon of his cult.
`` We stand here to summon thy to this world, to deliver us from the heresy that has plagued our every day lives'', David began to say.
His hands began to circle above his head, a miasma of smoke and steam formed above him as the air began to buzz with electricity.
`` Too long have we suffered at the hands of the corporate bosses, TOO LONG have we lived in fear of the illuminati and their false prophets'', his voice becoming a piercing shrill in the midnight silence, `` NOW IS OUR TIME, CHANT WITH ME BROTHERS AND SISTERS''
The congregation began to chant. The noise was deafening, the 14 members of the cult singing their chant in unison. The energy in the air took on a form of it's own, it had a pulse, it was palpable.
The crescendo was building. Members became visibly scared and previous strong voices shrank to mumbles but David held strong. The ritual was nearly complete, there was no turning back now, the dark god of the cult was to be brought to walk on the plains of this earth.
`` Come forth my lord, show us the error of our ways, CLEANSE THIS WORLD AS YOU SEE FIT''
Smoke circled and a funnel formed. Red light begn to pour from the spiral cracks of the gaseous structure, an entity began to take shape. It was visible, the lord of darkness, taking form in front of their very eyes! David sank to his knees, his following mimiced his actions.
The smoke dropped suddenly, the entity had been revealed.
There stood, or rather sat, a middle aged man. The being was sitting on a black plastic IKEA desk chair, he wore a white short sleeved shirt that was accompanied by a `` I love fridays'' tie. His suit trousers hung awkwardly above his ankles revealing white socks and a beaten pair of brown Doc Martin's.
``... Steve? ``, David stuttered, `` Steve, from accounting?''
`` Hi David, yes odd situation this, I have your P60 tax return form though'', Steve replied.
`` This must be some kind of mistake, The Cult of the Hidden Numbers has spent years meticulously studying ancient texts'', David went on, `` we discovered the code to a summoning ritual in the numbers! We wanted our dark lord!''
`` Oh'', Steve replied, `` Well, if you do n't need anything else I was in the middle of a gripping game of minesweeper and you appear to have transported my from my PC''
A congregation member harped up, `` Why are you so calm about this? We just transported you, using magic!''
`` Funny story that one'', Steve began, `` You see I get the impression these dark lords are n't to keen on every Bill, Joe and Jimmy trying to summon them to the earth to serve a collective 10 people or so''
`` So it seems that every time this happens they send Steve from accounting, we have an online forum dedicated to Steve's across the world who are accidentally summoned'', he continued, `` so next time you get'Steve from accounting' the probability is he did n't want to be there either!''
With that Steve got up and left, the rest of the party stood stunned.
David looked visibly aggrivated but he knew he had to win back the respect of his following.
`` All hail our dark lord Steve'', he boomed, `` FROM ACCOUNTING!''
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[ WP ] Tell me Laika 's story through her eyes just before she was launched into space on the Sputnik 2
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I spent a long time just walking.I walked the cold streets searching for my family. I did n't know where they had gone and why they had left without me. Scraps and leftovers, overturned bins and abandoned half crusts were feasts to me. I missed the warm touch of family, loving sounds and a soft place to sleep. These thoughts, I avoided during the day but at night, memories were all I had to keep me warm.
The day came when I was found, a leash slipped around my neck, bundled up and taken away.I was confused, I was startled. However, huddled against the warm chest of the collector, I was warm.
It was strange and clean and different in the new place. No sounds of traffic, no streets just clean floor and hushed voices. It smells clean and different.I am fed three times a day and have been given a new name, Laika. I have almost forgotten my old name. This new one is whispered and murmured to me in soft tones that comfort me.The days blend into each other, in a clean, warm, happy blur.
Slowly, it became less happy. The keepers became less kind. I was fed smaller portions. Daily, I am poked and prodded and pinched. I felt every ache from the machines and the smaller cages that give me trouble sleeping. I did not understand why this was happening to me.Slowly, I began to wilt inwardly, like a plant does only to be perked up a bit once food came around again. This routine carried on endlessly.
Then, a change came. I was moved to a new place this morning.A brighter place with different humans who did not say my name the same way the last humans did.It made me nervous.They built a small cage for me and closed it up entirely.I am trapped ever since and can not move or even breathe too deeply. I do n't think I like it here, it's too loud and I ca n't see how I'm going to eat anything in here.
It's too warm in here now. The noises keep getting louder.I feel like running but there's no room in here.I do n't know what to do, I'm very afraid and wish that things were different. That I was n't here, anywhere but here. I think of my family, my humans. Where are they now? Do they have a new dog? Are they happy? I remember a time when we were all at the beach, the small humans threw a stick for me and I got it and brought it back to them every time. I got to run and swim and jump. I got treats.That was the best day.
I thought about this best day as my eyes drifted closed.I remembered everything.
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[ WP ] A cab driver recognizes his passenger .
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It's roughly 1 in the morning, and all Ahmad can think about is a hot shower and thumb wrestling his TV remote. It's pretty much all he has; his other worldly possessions often transform from federal reserve notes to food, clothes, and money for the Sunday markets back home.
Ahmad sighs as he flips through an issue of the Herald left behind by one of his regulars. He's been at it since 8 AM, fighting hordes combustible demons and faceless zombies. It's not his normal schedule - Ahmad is usually home by 6:30, just in time for his game shows. Ahmad is particularly tight this month; his rainy day fund deprived due to an unforseen expense.
The music from the adjacent club and bars boom loudly. He never understood the appeal. All he'd ever gotten from Miami nightlife was the occasional clump of vomit or specks of cocaine residue in his otherwise pristine backseat.
And in that instant, as he reached for what remained of his off-brand energy drink, he felt something odd. His eyes quickly darted to the passenger-side mirror, acquiring the shape of a woman - still but a girl in his eyes - motioning for another.
Ahmad adjusts his seat, leans forward slightly, preparing his usual introduction that transitions into awkward silence.
Ahmad waits for the girl's companion - someone he doubted would enjoy the same title after tonight. From his rear-view emerges a group of three men; two are silhouettes, obscured by a combination of dingy street lights and cheap Chinese strobe lights. The other, though, stands out among all of the pollution.
He's a stocky guy - not unusual in this country. Ahmad looks to the rear passenger side, where the girl smashes her fingers into her phone. She's clearly upset, she's waiting for something. Her heels clack as she stomps one foot into the asphalt in what seemed like desperation.
Ahmad carefully watches the three men, and they soon say their goodbyes. The stocky man's sobriety seems to quickly disappear as he waddles to the car. Ahmad's nose fails him, and air rushes down his throat as a cloud of Drakkar Noir nearly suffocates him.
He approaches Ahmad's car to the left, and across the roof of his weathered Crown Vic, words are exchanged between the two passengers. Calm words, a laugh. Reassurance, maybe?
`` Cubans.'' Ahmad confirms to himself. Miami may be a melting pot, but there's something unique about that confident, top-of-the-world tone that every one of them use. The stocky man's voice is a bit too high pitched for his outward appearance.
The two enter. Ahmad's Cuban man is no gentleman - the woman opens her own door, and they both slide into position.
Before Ahmad can react, the drunken man retrieves a stack of one dollar bills from his greasy and inexplicably wet black and red hoodie.
`` Eh, you know King of Diamonds?'' the man asks.
Ahmad had been in the States for 2 years, and in Miami for 6 months. Even then, it was hard to not hear about this palace of ill repute.
`` Yes, sir. We'll get there right away.''
Ahmad takes a quick glance at the two while putting his car into drive. Each are slumped on their respective windows. Their bodies are angled away from each other, as if pried away from each other by an alcoholic magnet. He ca n't see much, and does n't want to - it's just another fare, another case of casual sex and waste of money.
Ahmad wades through the congested Miami streets, heading for I-95, which gives him some breathing room. It should be quiet by now.
The couple exchange brief words throughout the drive, and the numbers on the highway signs begin to get bigger as they approach. Throughout the trip, he hears a menagerie of noises. iPhone notifications. Keys jangling. Candy Crush.
20 minutes go by. Ahmad thinks they're asleep. Easy fare, time to drop them off and go home.
Ahmad's window has been down for the majority of the trip. It's helping with the horrendous Drakkar Noir odor, and he can finally breathe. He never understood why Drakkar Noir - it was pretty popular, especially among the Cubans.
Miami Gardens Drive. Might as well have been the stairway to heaven. We're almost there. Ahmad stops at a red light on the quiet street. There's not much going on in North Miami if it's not happening at King of Diamonds.
Before the light transitions to green, Ahmad hears a sound of impact. Drakkar's woman has somehow managed to become progressively drunker during the trip, and is now slapping his shoulder for attention.
`` Babe, I want cigarettes.'' she pleads. Drakkar ignores. Ahmad chuckles silently.
`` Coño, babe. Wake the fuck up! Let's stop at the 7-Eleven.'' She inches closer in an attempt to wake him up, to no avail.
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[ WP ] It is 3015 create a news piece about a third world country .
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**Welcome to The World Today. I'm your host, Moira Stewart. Later tonight: **
* **Ongoing troubles in the United Kingdom turn ugly when the 5 % tax decrease is met with a shocking 97 % approval rating**
* **Colonies of Mars celebrate their 500th Anniversary amidst terrorist concerns that the graffiti that once plagued their West Wall may return. **
* **Cure for the common cold perfected and disease is now completely eliminated. **
**Tonight's top story: The United States' 356 Terabit internet access. The once great superpower has yet again failed to meet the demands of the United Nations, who earlier last year deemed their download speeds'the greatest threat to human rights seen since the days of President Bieber the IV. **
**Protesters have been peaceably surrounding the centre of the scandal, Comcast HQ. With more, our on-the-spot reporter, Martin Fisher. Martin? **
Hello, Moira. Things are dire here in the struggling country of America, as one of the two remaining corporate bodies with any significant political power has once again dug its heels in and refused to update the country's crumbling infrastructure.
**I understand the mood there is quite dark? **
It is, Moira, it is. Protesters have created signs that have read `` Please improve this!!!'' *Three exclamation marks* Moira. I saw another that read `` We would very much like faster speeds.''
**Strong words, Martin. Powerful. **
Indeed, Moira. While political powers have been releasing statements assuring the public that speeds will increase, the fact is that internet speeds have only got 52 % faster in the last six months.
**Terrible news for its citizens. **
They are the ones who are suffering the most, Moira. Netflix is reported to buffer for the average citizen two, sometimes three times a month - for as long as fifteen seconds.
**What are the long term consequences of this? **
It's unsure as to whether or not the civil unrest will continue. The now popular protest song `` Things Are Considerably Faster To Download Elsewhere'' is being heard on every street corner, and the artist, Pleasant Dogg, has been nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize for keeping his fans and citizens from further action after the unpleasant Message Board Posting incidents of last year.
**Dark, dark, times. **
They were. Things may be better in the future, as Comcast executives are in talks to accept three hundred trillion dollars in support funds from Nigeria, The Democratic Republic of The Congo, and North Korea.
**Will they accept the money, do you think? **
It's unclear at this stage. Things are uncertain at best.
**Thank you, Martin. Next up tonight: are you children safe from the behavioural problems that come from being loved and supported by society? **
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[ WP ] Black holes throughout the universe are actually the result of different intelligent species wiping themselves out with a particular experiment . Humanity is about to conduct that experiment .
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Humanity. Who are we? What defines us? When will we figure it all out? Where will our place in history be? Why do we strive for understanding, for the unknown? How will we be affected by the end of our quest, when we have proven we can understand, that we deserve to exist, to thrive, to make a mark in the history of this universe or any other? These are all questions that have yet to be answered, despite all of humanities achievements, our long amd arduous search to undertand the world we live in. Still, we have named ourselves Homo Sapiens Sapiens, who are not only wiser than our ancestors, but doubly so. This arrogance, this refusal to admit our own ignorance, is but one of many foolish decisions we have made. And this last one has really cost us.
For we have finally crossed a boundary, an event horizon if you will, which we can not come back from. There was no impact from an asteroid or a comet, or any other NEO for that matter. No sudden alien invasion. No natural cause for our situation, but it was not something as simple as a nuclear war, or a technological singularity. No, it's another form of singularity, one brought upon us by our thirst to understand and command the world around us.
We never heeded any of the signs, the warnings. They were everywhere, the remains. In fact, as the graviton eluded us, we were only more and more determined to find it, an explanation, a part of our Theory of Everything. Not a single one of us, with all our wisdom, thought about the reason why, the consequences that would follow. Yes, our perseverance did indeed pay off, we finally found the mysterious graviton. We succeeded, showed our genius and worth. Too bad there is naught left of us but a black hole, like all the others that have formed before us.
It should have been easy to see this coming. The law of conservation of mass and energy has been around for a while. We should have known we could n't just make gravitons, these special particles that could traverse the membranes of the multiverse. No, what our experiments finally culminated in was a method to CATCH these gravitons, though we did not know it at the time. Eager to see the end results, the finish line right in front of us, we charged forward recklessly, blindly. And as soon as we crossed the line, we triggered the trap. The fall was slow, oh so slow, to the point where we did n't even realize we were falling at first. But eventually someone tried to live up to our given scientific name. Someone put two and two together. We had succeeded all right, succeeded in falling into a deep, black hole. Literally. If Einstein was around, he would be disappointed. He would have every right to mock us. Never have his words felt more like a curse, his words that because of relativity, falling into a black hole does n't feel any different to the ones doing the falling.
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[ IP ] Space Cowboy
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`` Objective in sight commander... No response from Capt. Johnson and his team'' the cool computerized voice stated.
`` Copy that computer, begin landing preparations'' Commander ( CMDR ) Barzahd replied.
`` Yes Sir''
As the ship began its landing procedures and activated shields for entering the atmosphere CMDR Barzahd leaned back in his seat and observed his view.
Planet Zion loomed ever closer. Its sister planets, Nirvana, Ouranós, and Ra revolving around it. Such and astounding sight. Four planets in a cluster each resembling earth right down to the atmospheric balance. CMDR Barzahd believed the gravity and magnetic fields would be catastrophic with the plants in such a close proximity, but all the reports came back with the same assessments: All four plants where habitable.
`` CMDR, brace for Landing''
'WILCO, computer bring us down''
He always loved this part of space travel. The Descent, as he called it, was a rush unlike any other. He saw the flames erupt around the cockpit from the friction of the vessel entering the atmosphere. He heard the muffled roar of the flames trying to break down the vessels shields. Then it was over and he was greeted with a wonderful view on a planet from on high. It was dusk but the night sky was illuminated with a soft green glow and the sparkle of countless stars. Nirvana, Ouranós, and Ra shone like three celestial guardians. It was beautiful.
Cmdr Barzahd observed the alien earth and was shocked to discover how much the foliage resembled the tress and fields of grass on earth. He caught a glimpse of a vast dark ocean before his vessel banked left and descended into a clearing for landing.
After a few minutes the vessel landed with a soft thud.
`` CMDR, current readings indicate the air is breathable. Current temperature 86 degrees Fahrenheit with gentle winds from the south east measuring at 5mph. Negative readings on life forms in a 3 mile radius. You are safe to disembark the vessel''
`` Fantastic computer, Run maintenance, security, and bio scans in the meantime. I will be outside''
`` Yes sir, beginning scans now''
CMDR Barzahd disengaged the shields and locking mechanisms. The cockpit opened outward and CMDR took his first steps into the alien world.
The balmy air hit him with a gentle caress. Smells he never experienced before filled his nostrils. Sounds he never heard before came rushing to him. He was looking with the eyes of child on a new planet. This is why he became an Explorer. To Experience the wonders of the universe. To be apart of something eternal.
`` BING'' `` BING''
`` CMDR BARZAHD Sir, Do you read? ``
CMDR Barzahd pulled out his communicator. It was Capt. Johnson.
`` Loud and Clear Capt. Turning on video feed now''
Capt Johnson's holographic face appeared with a smile.
`` My apologies on the missed radio signal, my team and I where taking topographical measurements when when you pinged us earlier.''
`` We are about 3 hours to the south now, we decided to observe the beach, you may have glimpsed the ocean on your decent.'' `` There is life here Sir, small and primordial, but nonetheless its LIFE!!!''
`` Copy that Capt Johnson, continue your recon and radio in once complete. I will set up here at my current location'' `` Good work today Capt.''
`` WILCO Sir, See you Space Cowboy'' `` Johnson Out.''
Capt. Johnson's face vanished and CMDR Barzahd stowed the communicator back in his bag.
`` Alright then it seems I got some time to kill''
CMDR Barzahd fashioned his duffel bag into a makeshift pillow and laid down on the ground and observed the stars. He kept his gun close by. Old Habits die hard.
He used to be a Outlaw. A `` Space Cowboy'' As Capt. Johnson like to put it. He was feared and he was good at what he did. But that was a long time ago and now his life was devoted to exploring new worlds under the new government. He never thought he would be a reformed citizen, but he was given a second chance and he decided to change. He rose quickly through the Space Force ranks and now here he was. 39 years old, a CMDR, and gazing up at a alien night sky billions of miles away from home.
`` Life is good'' CMDR Barzahd said aloud. He felt himself getting drowsy. Capt Johnson and his team were a few hours out and his on-board computer was still running scans
His eyes grew heavier as he continued his star ward gaze. He caught sight of distant shooting star. He traveled the meteors progress until he saw a distant flash of light.
`` Bang'' CMDR Barzahd said sleepily and with out further ado fell into a comfortable sleep.
FEEDBACK PLEASE. THANK YOU
``
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[ wp ] You are a young God going to God School . You 've just realized that you 've only got 7 more days before your universe project is due .
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I blankly stare at my computer. Up on the screen is an empty C++ program. Final project, eh? I sigh. I need something good, something impressive.But it's so hard when you have to live up to an awesome dad.
I sigh again and click on his personal folder, maybe I can find some inspiration there. `` Earth, v 2.0.16.exe''. Hmm, what is that? I sip on my drink as I launch the program. A screen pops up and a large blue-green sphere appears. It appears as though half of it is lit and half of it is n't. Blinking lights are all around the outside parts. I wonder what those are, so I double click on one as it moves a crossed the screen. Whabang. A flash bolts down and a boom follows through the speakers. Oops. The blinking light is now engulfed in a bright orange flame and quickly disappears from the face of its existence. I wonder if I can zoom in. Yup. I middle-wheel scroll in until I'm above a community. This is really cool. People talk to each other and go shopping, they do lots of regular stuff.
Suddenly I hear footsteps. `` What are you doing?'' I slam the laptop closed. `` Dad says that you should n't play with Earth. You've made a copy of it now.'' `` Ok Jesus... I'm sorry. I'm working on my final project.'' `` Blessings with that, I'm experimenting with two-by-fours.'' I shake my head at him in frustration. Carpenters.
Hey, if dad can make a round world, who's to say I ca n't make a flat one! With blocks! After a few hours of hard and fast typing, I sigh and launch the program. I click on `` Create New World'' and watch as I'm placed in my own flat world. There are pigs, sheep, cows, and even humans. But the only difference is, is that dad ca n't say I ca n't play with this program.
--
Turns out, I made the grade. Funny thing is, Jesus got a higher score then me. Hah. Apparently his final project saved for souls then mine.
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[ WP ] The knife came out clean .
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`` Kriff!'' Snarled Tomess Ghast, who brought the pommel of his knife to smash against the Weequay's nose. *That* did bleed, and heavily so. The Ivrish bounty hunter and on and off again mercenary whipped a booted foot around to connect with the thug's knee cap, the shattering of which caused the alien to scream in terrible pain. Not bothering to finish him off Ghast sprinted, his boots ringing out on the wet pavement. He pressed the comlink, open up a channel to the *Red Wake. *
`` Wist! Wist, you there? I swear, little lady, if you're asleep I'm gon na leave you on this miserable rock.''
A brief pause of hissing static before a female voice picked up.
`` Who you calling little?'' Wist Nay'tu asked.
Ghast allowed a sigh of relief to escape his lungs.
`` Thank goodness. Wist, I need a pick-up and fast. The mark was n't there, he sent a hit-being instead. From what the assassin said, Taran has at least a half dozen killers looking for me, five now I guess. How close to Ulwo Square can you get?''
Another pause.
`` I can land right in the middle of it, whether or not that's legal is another story.''
Ghast's boot landed in a murky puddle, the foul water splashing up towards his legs.
`` Do it, there's no one to tell us no anyways. And get OB-16 on the rear turret. I have a feeling we'll need some big guns. What's your ETA?''
`` Seven minutes it should be. Do n't get shot.'' Wist added helpfully.
`` No shi- Shit!!'' A blaster bolt passed just centimeters away from his face, so close he could feel the heat of the shot on his skin. He drew his C-10 heavy blaster as his head swiveled towards the source, sprinting all the while. A green skin Rodian rose from his hiding place, blaster rifle leveled at Ghast. The white haired Ivrishman squeezed twice the trigger of the Czerka made weapon, twin bolts flying from the heavy handcannon. Bolt connected with the assassin's upper chest, burning deep black holes into the alien's chest. The Rodian cried in pain and toppled back into the garbage he had waited in, dead before he hit the ground. With a grin of triumph Ghast continued on, boots racing down the backs alleys, the open expanse of Ulwo Square just in sight. That view was eclipsed by the sight of four beings blocking the narrow entrance of the alley. Three reptilian Trandoshans and a foul looking human male.
`` End of the road, Ghastsss,'' one of the Trandoshans hissed. `` Taran's paying big credits for your head. But I think he'll let me keep your skin...''
Ghast flashed one of his most agreeable smiles, raising his hands slowly above his head.
`` Now then, lads. Let's now do anything any of us'll regret...''
*Wist, where the blast are you? *
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[ WP ] Speak of the devil and he shall appear . At least , normally he does . This time someone had to fill in .
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The goat lay on the alter, blood pouring from the gash in its neck. It trickled down the sides of the podium, pooling in the cracks and divots of the stone floor beneath Damien's feet.
`` Lucifer! Show yourself!'' He demanded. A warm breeze descended on the room, as the candles flickered and shadows danced on the walls. Smoke began to pour out from the cracks in the floor, and gathered in front of Damien, in a twirl of black mist and embers. As the smoke faded, a figure emerged.
A small, stocky, bald man stepped forward, and in a whiny voice he began, `` What is it you desire, child?''
`` What is this? I asked for Lucifer.'' Damien barked.
`` Lu is... Busy at the moment. I've come in his stead.''
`` Bullshit! Do you know how hard it is to find a virgin goat? People do n't keep track of that crap! Where the hell is lucifer?''
`` I'm sorry, but he's not available. What can I do for you?''
Damien huffed. This was not going the way he planned, but he was determined to salvage the situation.
`` Well, I'm going to need to make a deal.''
The little man squinted, and let out a sigh. `` I'm terribly sorry, but I'm not authorized to make deals.''
`` *Not authorized*? Okay, then. I need some... Supplies.''
The man clicked his tongue and shook his head. `` Apologies, but I do not have access to the things you desire.''
Damien swung his arm and sent a candle crashing into the wall. `` Then what good are you?! Why are you even here?''
`` I'm here because you asked for Lu.''
`` But why come at all if you ca n't help me?!''
``... Someone had to come.''
`` Dammit! Just forget about it! When will I be able to get ahold of Lucifer?''
`` Well... Something could be arranged, I'm sure. I have an appointment list here...'' He shuffled around in his jacked pockets, finally producing a peice of paper. `` Just sign and date here, and I'll be sure to set an appointment time.''
Damien grabbed the paper, swiped his finger in the puddle of blood, and proceeded to sign the document. `` And when exactly can I expect to hear back from *Lu*?'' He said, shoving the paper back into the man's hands.
The man smiled as smoke rose from the floor once again. `` Oh, you'll be seeing him soon, now that you've pledged your life to him.''
`` What --? Shit, no, the paper! You son of a --'' the smoke encircled Damien, embers spinning around his head, and pulled him down to Hell as the man's laughter echoed around him.
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[ WP ] It 's only ever the 1 % dragons that get the story : Tell me about the dragon who has a 11 pound hoard underneath their cottage in Stourport-on-Severn and gets Clarissa over on Tuesday afternoons for part time damseling duties ?
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`` Same time next week hon?'' Clarissa said.
She was rolling up the milk blue dress she wore for me. The kind that would n't look out of place in a medieval castle, sitting on the arm of some noble king. She'd picked it up cheap after a Halloween party. Each week, she put it on and each week she made some cash.
I did n't answer and she did n't need to ask again. She was out the door before I could light up.
I fell from the bed and cried. It was n't easy. It was n't as hard as it had been. Common law caught up with the times. I did n't eat people, they would n't stake me. I do n't raze a town to the ground, I get to own a bit of property of my own.
It did n't stop the stares or the whispers. I had a small place on the outskirts of a small town, kept and repaired over the centuries. Sure, some of the London firebreathers had penthouses or mansions. They soaked up the limelight. And the compound interest on enough gold to back most countries currencies.
But I had mine. And it was pathetic.
I had n't noticed her return. Did n't hear the door open, her quiet call from the doorway. She found me curled in a ball, like a hatchling from an egg with just a tail over my eyes for dignity. She'd seen me naked a hundred times. Felt every part of my body. And yet I was more exposed to her in that moment than if she had flayed my skin from my body.
`` I'm sorry,'' she whispered, grabbing her phone from the sideboard. `` I did n't mean to. I forgot. I'll go.''
I moved like a whelp half my age. My frame filled the doorway before she could think to move. My heart pounded, chest glistening and claws scratching at the wattle walls. We'd roleplayed this. Over and over. Her the damsel. Me the big monster. Chasing her. Catching her. Consuming her.
For the first time I saw her fear.
Not the kind money buys. The cheap platitude to keep an aging reptile happy. This was terror and I felt ashamed as a flicker of pride rippled up through my belly and made my fangs twitch. And then I collapsed in shame.
`` Go,'' I said. `` Go!''
But she stayed. Trembling. I pushed past her, heading to the lounger with the groove cut out the back. I needed a drink. A big one. The kind that would kill a man. Her hand grabbed my arm as I walked past, the fingers barely making it a quarter way around.
`` Please,'' I said. `` I'm sorry.''
`` Is that what you always do?'' Her face was lit by the candles dotted around the room. It'set the mood' for our little escapades, but now it only served to reveal her emotions. Her eyes were questioning. The fear had gone, or at least subsided.
`` When I leave. Do you cry? Is it because of me?'' she said.
`` No,'' I blurted out before I could help it.
Her hand was still on my arm and I turned to face her. Facing each other, our differences were unassailable. I towered over her. But right now, I felt smaller than a newt.
`` There are six females left in England. Our entire species is going extinct, it just takes a long time for anyone to notice. And the only way I can relive the old days is to pay a stripper to pretend to be scared of me.'' Her face dropped at my poor choice of words. `` Sorry.''
`` I've been called worse.''
`` I understand if you do n't want to...''
She put a finger to my lips, her legs stretched to reach, and I could taste her. The rush returned.
`` Let's try something new,'' she said.
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[ WP ] Magic is real , and it works by exploiting flaws in the laws of physics . You 've just discovered the first flaw .
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The discovery that I could do magic has got to be the most disappointing moment of my life. Three years ago, while doing a chemistry experiment for a school project, I disccovered an incredibly specific flaw in the laws of physics that allows me to levitate objects. If a one gram cube of Technitum 99 is put in an airtight chamber full of Argon, the law of gravity fails to apply, and I can levitate that cube provided I am wearing a glove made out of silicon. That's it. No fireballs, no magic missiles, just levitating a small cube in a room full of Argon. Physics is a bitch
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[ WP ] The town superhero and supervillain find out that they 've been roommates all along
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It was then There you are. It was then that I knew. Like knowing, the kind of knowing that results from a long period of recognizing something solely for the purpose of avoiding it. And so then there it is -- an intimate part of you -- and yet not ever really seen. I rode the train every day. Packed with people, no time, no way, to acknowledge everyone/anyone. So you move, I moved, through people, the same people, every day. People become walking obstacles. Then one day you realize you've been moving around this ottoman in my cramped apartment and then there it is. There's a slight indent on the right corner from when you pull it over to use from the couch. One of the legs has a scratch, probably been there since day one. The hammered copper accents are hammered.
And so then it was then there you are. The superhero sees the humanity. A street full of humans are just potential save-ees. Perhaps something is amiss. That might have been a sniffle. There's the rush to save. The villain does n't need to need to need evil. Just ignore those who need it. Just ignore.
There you are then I was there in my apartment. And there was some humanity. And there was n't. There we were briefly together in the same room.
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[ WP ] I literally went to the end of the world for you .
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Here I now stand, waiting for you at the end of the world. The twilight faintly illuminates the body-strewn streets of the city below. Nature, freed from its oppressors, is starting to reclaim what is rightfully hers. Vines creep through the darkening streets, entangling anything they find. Human noises have been replaced by a thick blanket of silence. This world was always wasted on anyone that was not you. You and your dastardly smile that melted my heart, mischief always in your eyes. Your eyes always were your best quality.
Being with you was suffering. There was something between us, but it never blossomed in you the way it did in me. I knew that every time that I saw you, it could be the last. When I was at your house, I would forget things so I ’ d have to come back to pick them up. I considered it my insurance policy: a way I ’ d always see you at least one more time. The last thing I left was my watch. Perhaps you will bring it to me now.
I ’ ve kept you safe through the war and the nuclear winter that followed. When pestilence and death crept over the land, you unnecessarily worried — you were n't in any danger. Slowly the world ended around you, yet you endured. During the water wars, it never failed to rain on you, and when thirst turned to famine I made sure you didn ’ t go hungry. The starless night your family disappeared left you alone and frightened, but you soldiered on. Maybe you thought of me during that time. I'd like to think so, though I know it ’ s not true.
You are just a street away — I see the light from your torch as you search the streets for signs of life. We ’ ve made it to the end of the world, you and I. You ’ ll never know that I destroyed it all for you.
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[ WP ] A genie is surprised when somebody makes a straightforward wish , after dealing with everybody wording their wishes to avoid loopholes
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I'm not sure about the ending
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
“ Greetings weary traveller! My name is Mukaji and I am your Genie. You have rubbed my lamp three time, rub rub rub, and now I am here to grant you one wish and one wish only. What will it be? ”
“ I didn ’ t think all of that Genie stuff was really true, ” said Nate, “ I don ’ t really know what to wish for, you ’ ve taken me by surprise. ”
Twenty minutes ago Nate had been half way up a cliff when he ’ d spotted the lamp from the corner of his eye. It was perched on a small ledge, glistening in the sun. It was brighter than any normal lamp and Nate couldn ’ t really look directly at it. He had reached out carefully, picked up the lamp and clipped it onto a spare carabiner on his harness. It was a curious object and it interested Nate. The lamp looked exactly like you ’ d expect a Genies lamp to look like and that was why, half-jokingly, Nate had rubbed it three time when he ’ d reached the end of his climb.
“ Yes yes Mr. Nate, a wonderful surprise for you isn ’ t it? Here I am! So my friend, what will you wish for today? Come now, I don ’ t have a lot of time. ”
“ Um…well I guess I could do with some new climbing shoes. I ’ ve been on this trip for 6 months and these ones are kind of worn out. ”
The Genie raised his eyebrows with a mixture of intrigue and shock. He quickly composed himself and let out a little chuckle, “ Nate, you do realise you can wish for anything? Anything at all my good fellow! Now come, wish again! ”
“ Ok well I ’ ve been travelling alone, I wouldn ’ t mind getting laid. ”
“ Ok Nate, I don ’ t do this often. I am about to give you some advice. I can grant you anything you could wish for in the world. You have one chance. Most people ask for three more wishes, which by the way is the one thing I can ’ t do, or unlimited money or supernatural powers. And even if I don ’ t want to grant those wishes, I have to. You could wish for anything in the world! You could be an astronaut, you could fly, you could become the owner of Apple or have the ability to predict the stock
market with great accuracy. Use your imagination Nate. ”
Nate thought about it for a few seconds and although he didn ’ t realise it at the time, this was a pivotal moment in his life because it was the moment when he realised he was happy.
“ Well Genie, I ’ m not sure what to ask for. I have enough money, my family and friends are alive and well and I ’ m doing what I love every day. I am happy with my life. I have been incredibly lucky to find you here and I am sure there are many other people in the world that have a greater need for my wish. I would like to give my wish to somebody who really needs it. Can you do that? ”
The Genie rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, “ Yes Nate, that can be done. Your wish has been granted! ”
And just like that the Genie was gone. There was no puff of smoke or flash of light, just silence. Nate sat down on the warm rock and gazed out into the valley. `` What a strange experience that was'' he thought, smiling to himself.
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[ WP ] In a future where everyone has electronic brain implants to make them smarter , you are the only student at a school without an implant due to a birth defect . You are a perfectly functional human being , but your parents , teachers , and classmates treat you like you 're mentally handicapped .
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I did n't really understand until I was around 14 or so.
Around 100 years ago, some `` search engine'' ( whatever that is ) found a way to directly tap into the brain with a chip, allowing for instant communication between everyone as well as directly uploading of information.
As my parents explained it, this chip was usually put into the brain around 2 years of age, and by 10 most kids no longer needed to go to school for learning. They could easily do it from home using their internet connection and have direct contact with any piece of information that they may want. They could then store this locally in their brains so it was always available.
While the initial costs for the needed operation were high, eventually prices became so low that nearly everyone got one. There are no longer any 3rd world countries, as information is freely shared among all and initially there were programs to bring the chip to people who could not afford it. Eventually installation was publicly funded and was part of the vaccinations of children.
The `` global consciousness'' had many effects as more and more people got connected. As information got shared, even the littlest bit of information anyone had, resources could not be horded, crimes could not be committed, and even those of other beliefs were able to see the point of view of their old enemies.
This led to the world congress, breakups of military powers, a coming together of governments till we eventually had only one government who worked for the betterment of all mankind. They kind of had to as any duplicity would result in the whole world knowing.
Then there are people like me.
It seems that around.01 % of the population were unable to use the chip. A reason for this has not been found, and there really is not much research into it since its such a small part of the population.
Initially those who could not take the chip were ostracized by others, as they were seen as inferior. This caused a lot of problems for a while until it was decided by all in the world that it was best once someone hit 18 they were sent to live in `` homes'' with others who could not take the chips.
I was sent to one of these homes about 12 years ago, and its really not bad. They let you do what you want most of the time, and take good care of people. Even in some cases there are chipless couples who are given homes of their own.
While those with the chips have all information they may need, and are able to move from job to job with only the need to download the information they need for a new job, the rest of us tend to focus early on in life on just one line of work and then stay with it.
Of course those with chips and those without chips do not really associate to much with each other due to the differences in communication and misunderstandings that occur.
It seems that those that have the chips are always in agreement with each other, while those of us without chips are somewhat argumentative on things we find ourselves passionate about.
Needless to say we leave them alone, they leave us alone for the most part.
A few years ago, must be going on 8 years now, a group of us without chips started having meetings among each other. They started out as informal get together with each of us talking about what we had individually learned recently and then sharing it with everyone else. Once gentleman told us once that this was how people used to share information before the chips.
Then there was the day that things changed for us.
One of our group had been doing historical studies of the chips, and had found that it was originally a for profit company that put out the chips. Initially those who got the chips were getting discounts for the installation if they got something called `` Ads'' delivered to them directly from the company. This was eventually stopped by the governments as only that company could do it, and so the company turned off the ability for sending `` Ads''.
The historian fellow got together with one of us that had been studying electronics for many years, and a programmer. Between then they realized something.
1. The ad code was never removed.
2. While the chips have multiple levels of encryption, this code did not
3. Since everyone shared information instantly, if someone thought of something, the whole world would get the same information.
4. They figured out a way to wirelessly access the chips.
5. Unlike those with the chips, we can keep secrets.
Tomorrow, we begin to see what we can do with this.
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[ WP ] Immortality was nice , but now you 've caught up to the end of the universe
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I stood at the base of a king with immeasurable mass. Staring up, I could see the peak climb endlessly into the swirling red clouds.
Countless years have gone by with countless more to come. What is there besides the blackness? Emptiness? What is emptiness? Is it simply the absence of light? Perhaps it is a state of mind.
Nonetheless, my journey has brought me here to the largest geological structure to ever have graced the planet. I was n't sure how far it reached or how long it would take to summit, but time was n't a commodity anymore.
What happens after I conquer this beast? Will there be more behemoths to slay? How much further must I go before I am consumed with the rest of the universe? I beg for the blackness to swallow me without spitting me out again.
In this environment one does not need anything but his hands. Dug deep in the stone they are invaluable. Funny thing hands are when you really think about them. They are simply five extending tendrils, not much different than a sea creatures tentacles. But dear lord! Are they useful!
And toes!
My, how silly those little stubs are. They are capable of so much.
So
As the universe withers away, I too become like dust.
Might as well climb.
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[ MP ] Emergency Alert System
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Date: Friday October 22, 2540
Time: 4:36 p.m.
Location: Atlas Heights, Mars
The President of Atlanticas had come over all forms of communication.
`` Attention citizens of the Republic of Atlanticas. I regretfully inform you that one of the largest cities of the Earth nation the United States of America is scheaduled for total demolishion. As you know we have strong and proud American roots in us. We tried to
figure out any other options but the pollution and the toxic waters became too much of an enviornmental threat for our homeworld Earth. And so I regretfully inform you that a total strike of the former city of Los Angeles will be commenced in 4 hours. I want to ensure everybody here that the Americans still living in the states of California and Central San Lencho have been evacuated and are in the Central and Eastern region of the nation. We will be deploying 4 RAH Comanche Cheif Helicopters to carry on the strike. I have talked to the President and she told me
that she is on board with the strike by all means necissary. This strike will be quick non-toxic and will mostly scorch a 200 mile radius of the blast site with fire. Once the fire has ended the American government will try to plant new life in the new soil. I want to wish the American people a safe night and send my condolences to anyone
who used to live in the once great city. And for my fellow Atlanticites, Man and Woman are here to explore this vast universe
that we call our home, but we must also respect those species who lived
before we arrived and who will grow after we leave. For if there is one thing mankind relies on it's the beautiful nature that lives and breathes along with us. Thank you and have a pleasent, safe, and peacefull evening. Goodnight.''
The president walks out of the beautiful Roman/Greco style marble room. Outside the distant sound of the comanche chief helicopters are heard as they fly almost silently from skyport Clinton into the night sky headed towards a pale blue dot.
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[ WP ] You granted a superpower of your own choice , but you flub your wording during the wish , and results in the worst possible superpower .
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`` It's the bottom of the ninth. Rodriguez is up to bat. Cruz pitches. Rodriguez swings. It's going... going... gone!! It's a home run, folks!! I ca n't believe it!! The Cubs have won the World Series!!'' I announce. I realize my mistake too late. Everyone at the table is glaring at me, wishing death upon me.
`` Dammit, Will, I told you I was TiVo'ing the game for later! Maybe if you had gotten ESP, instead of ESPN in your head, you'd be able to read our minds and know not to ruin the game for us!'' my dad yells, as he smacks me across the back of my head.
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[ WP ] The 10 year old you , the 30 year old you , and the 70 year old you have dinner together . Who comes out the most impacted ?
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I awoke quite suddenly to find myself in the midst of a staring contest with a plate of sushi, which I had barely touched. I had always enjoyed sushi, ever since I was a child, however, I had been inordinately tired since I took that job.
That fucking horrible, dead-end job had me working at all hours; day and night. The money was great, but I had no time or energy to spend building a family; no time or energy to spend with myself.
I gradually scanned the room, yet again. I was enjoying this meal with an old man, who was eating joyously. There was an eerie energy in the room, although I could not place what it was.
`` I am so sorry,'' I said as I rose from my seat, placing my napkin back on the table `` I will be right back.''
I was granted a primal, sushi-ridden groan of approval.
I made my way to the back door, pulling a cigarette out of my shirt pocket and frisking each of my other pockets for a lighter. The flame enthralled me as I lit my cigarette. *I could soak my home in gasoline and burned my dead-end life down to the ground. I could start over, * I thought to myself. I decided it the risk outweighed the possible benefit.
With my cigarette on the ground, I headed back inside to find no sushi left on my plate. Obviously the old man had taken it, but my appetite was lacking, so I disregarded this.
The old man complimented my home, although he seemed somewhat facetious. I thanked him anyway, and in spite of the misery it harbors. I was quite puzzled by this his tone.
`` Have you not figured it out yet?'' asked the old man as he noticed my confused look.
My face undoubtedly contorted in further confusion, because the old man proceeded to explain. `` You are this young man's future. I am your future.''
Confusion remained, but, quite suddenly, shock registered as I began to grasp the gravity of this situation. The old man gave me a heart-warming smile and chuckled in amusement at my catatonic reaction to this information. However, I did not know where this alleged child he was referring to was. My gaze wandered to my left, where I saw a disturbing sight.
This child was on the verge of death and was barely noticeable from my seat. His eyes were cloudy and barren like the once beautiful buttons of that sweater my ex-wife left in my closet.
The old man's face was suddenly gravely serious. `` My childhood almost died, once. My childish fear of life is the only thing that kept him alive long enough to flourish in me. Tonight, I realized that is my only regret.''
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________
Too bad I am horrible at endings. I tried, though!
Edit: format
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[ WP ] A law is passed changing the number of Supreme Court Justices to just one , to be decided by a free for all fight to the death .
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Scalia grit his teeth, dragging his swollen, probably broken, leg across the Court floor, taking care to avoid the crumpled bodies of Kennedy, Alito, and Sotomayor, all victims of Thomas' hellbent rage.
`` Damn them all....'' he thought. `` Why was this worth it?''
It all traced back to the last couple of rulings, what with gay marriage being legal and Obamacare upheld, the Republican Congress was n't exactly to happy with how the court was acting. After all, they were n't exactly the most forward advancing party either. But, as it turned out, they were betting one of the more right-wing judges would win, Obama signing it for the very opposite, to get a left-wing in office.
The Justices had been in the courtroom by the time they heard the news.
`` We do n't need to obey this.'' Roberts tried to assert, looking around for support.
All he got was a mortal strike from Kegan and Breyer pummeling him to death with their gavels.
`` You're all insane!'' Scalia choked out.
Kegan ignored him, instead turning to Breyer and using her already dented gavel on his face before he could reply to Scalia.
When Breyer fell Sotomayor jumped on Kegan, their billowing robes masking the scratches and shrieks that everyone else could hear, until Kegan's cries turned into gurgles and then silence.
Then Thomas snapped.
But it seemed that the Congress got their way, after all, Scalia had practically strangled Thomas to death with Thomas' own robes after catching him unawares, Thomas already insane with bloodlust upon killing Alito.
Still, Thomas was a monster, nearly crushing Scalia's left foot with a desk leg. Inwardly celebrating, he climbed into the seat, exhausted and waiting for the paramedics to arrive.
Scalia figured he could get the leg healed anyway, after all he was the new Chief Justice. Inwardly celebrating, he climbed into the seat, exhausted and waiting for the paramedics to arrive.
Or was he...? He counted the bodies of his former colleagues....7.
Someone was missing.
A shadow fell across the seat. The realization dawned upon him and he knew any effort would be too late by now.
`` Ginsburg...'' He said with wonder and begrudging respect as the gavel rushed towards his face.
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[ WP ] Multiple personalities are the norm . You are the first person to be diagnosed with SPD : Single Personality Disorder . Scientists are baffled : `` How can you possibly cope with being so alone ? ''
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`` Well, I'm not that alone because clearly people *ca n't stop fucking talking about it. *''
The researcher was taken aback. Weak.
`` J-John says that you're not openminded enough.
Funny. He'd called himself John minutes ago. I was used to this, but people were always expecting me to reveal some hidden side to myself.
I never did.
`` Hey. If we just go by who thinks differently, I'm up at the top. You're the close-minded one for closing me out.''
His voice became high pitched. `` *Excuse me!? *''
`` Yeah. There's many things you'll never know that I do. Decisiveness. unity. Even the most coordinated people I know hesitate with simple decisions.''
``...''
`` I can still make friends. And people know what to expect from me. Even if I change, *I change. * No one else.''
Petulantly. A child avatar-four personalities was on the higher end. `` I think you're wrong.''
`` Also-you'll never know the silence. You can wonder all your life but your minds will always be full. Unclear and disjointed. Just because it's normal does n't make it good.''
The scientist was taken aback.
It was silent again.
Nothing quite like it, I'd say.
-- -
So I got gold for this. That's... a little weird, but thanks anyways! @. @
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[ WP ] President Obama announces that Seal Team Six eliminated the cause of the polar vortex and this rough winter .
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SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN CANADA
Deep inside of a fortress made out of a mountain of ice, a squad of highly trained Seal Team Six members wait in battle formation as a ice-haired man blew a tune in a trumpet. Two large doors of ice fly open with a chilly gust, as a flamboyantly dressed blue-skinned man sashayed out, flipping a stylish hat onto his frozen hair. He began to sing.
*'' I'm Mister White Christmas, I'm Mister Snow!
I'm Mister Icicle,
I'm Mister Ten Belo-'' * He belted, silenced forever by the sudden report of a Colt M1911 and a bullet striking him in the right eyebrow. Stumbling forward, the Snow Miser collapsed, turning into a pile of snow. Horrified by this, the cyrokinetic's followers begin to flee, only to be cut down by Seal Team Six's rifles.
Walking down a corridor of the White House, President Barack Obama stopped at a podium and spoke briefly before a field of cameramen and members of the media. `` The cause of the recent extreme polar weather has been identified by the Central Intelligence Agency and I'd like to announce that the suspect in question has been eliminated in a covert operation spearheaded by an elite division of the Navy Seals. That is all. May God Bless America.'' He collected himself and turned, walking down the same corridor.
The following winter never came.
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[ WP ] A stunned nation watches as images of the President 's assassination flood the news . The killer has yet to be identified , but witnesses claim to have seen someone in a gray hoodie . You go home early , only to find your SO disassembling a high-power rifle in the kitchen ... wearing a gray hoodie .
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*Horrifying. * Joseph thought, on his way home. The radio blared with news of the assassination of the President. A tragedy, for sure. *Lunatics. Even just a single lunatic could change the world. * Joseph was deep in thought.
As Joseph sat through the obnoxious traffic, the radio broadcasted a new piece of information. `` Breaking news! Eyewitnesses say that the shooter was wearing a grey hoodie, and using a sniper rifle. More on this story as it develops. For the past few hours, the nation has been mourning the...'' *I've heard enough. * Joseph thought. *No more. *
Joseph finally got home after the tedious commute. He did get to leave work early, as a result of the lockdown. He walked in through the front door, to see his wife, Mallory, disassembling a rifle.
`` Mallory! What the hell?'' Joseph screamed.
`` Hello, Joseph. Do you trust me?'' Mallory replied, calmly.
`` I -- -I... Yes. I trust you...'' Joseph stuttered.
`` What a huge mistake.'' Mallory said, as she pulled out a pistol and shot her husband.
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[ WP ] A person uses the sex offender registry as a hit-list .
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The letter came into my mailbox. Identical ones were sent to everybody else in the neighborhood. It sent a chill down my spine to read the letter. A sex offender had moved into our neighborhood. My wife was disgusted, and worst of all, he lived right across the street.
`` Good thing we have no children.'' My wife did a half smile to try and make me feel better.
`` What if we have children later? What about our neighbors' children?'' I let out a sigh. `` I do n't know why they let these things out of their cages.''
As days passed, I saw the piece of shit in his yard. He mostly kept to himself, and only came out to drive his car or to get his newspaper. I cringed every time the paperboy rode past him. The guy certainly looked the part with a dark mustache and empty eyes. He was tall and lanky, and he seemed to be in his late thirties or early forties. Every so often, somebody would stop by; most likely family.
One day, somebody else spray painted his garage door with the words `` child toucher'' in red paint. Cops came by, and seemed to be either unwilling or unable to lend him any assistance.
My wife told me to stop spying on him and to leave the man alone. That was just it though. This thing was n't a man, and now I had my oppurtunity. I waited until my wife left for work as she would never approve of my plan. As the good neighbor I was, I paid him a visit to wish him well and help him wash the spray paint from his garage.
Adrenaline pumped through me as I rang the doorbell. Many thoughts ran through my head as I waited for him. None of my thoughts involved backing out.
A jolt went through my body when he opened the door. I stood face to face with him, and saw every horrifying contour of his face up close.
`` Can I help you?'' He said impatiently, and I thought to myself that yes, he could help me.
`` I see your garage has been vandalized, and I thought I would help my neighbor out. Do you want help cleaning it?''
He blinked a couple times as he stared at me, and was likely trying to figure out if I had been the one to vandalize it in the first place. After the awakward pause, he nodded. `` Sure. I could use the help. Would you like to come in for something to drink first?''
This thing was far too trusting, and I could n't help but smirk. `` Sure, I'd love to.''
As soon as his back was turned, I slammed the front door and tackled him to the floor. He weakly flailed his arms and legs trying to push me off. Apparently, he could n't fight somebody stronger than a child. My fingers wrapped around his pencil neck. Rapid pulse beat beneath my fingers, and I felt his Adam's apple. He wheezed as I closed my fingers on his throat. It gave me far greater pleasure than it probably should have to feel his pulse and breath gradually slow down. Once his vital signs completely stopped, I gave him one final squeeze to crush his windpipe completely just to make sure he would n't be getting back up.
I gave his lifeless body a few good kicks before leaving the house. I went back to mine and continued on like normal. It was days before someone he knew stopped by and found him. Cops came to investigate, and my heart raced. After several weeks of no cops on my doorstep, I realized that I was in the clear. A rush went through me as I realized I'd gotten away with killing someone, and the world was a better place for it. My wife and I went to a barbeque at one of our neighbors' and the topic came up. I expressed my satisfaction that somebody did it without confessing my guilt, and everybody generally agreed that it was a good thing that this scum had been purged from the neighborhood.
The lightbulb went off in my head. These things have to register their addresses on a database. It would lead me straight to them. Other neighborhoods were also in danger, and it was up to someone like me to help them. As I lowered myself in front of the computer, I cracked my knuckles and went to work. I was a Hero. Plans had to be made now. Designing a suit could come later.
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[ WP ] A little girl 's wish is answered and an old man dies . How are these two events related to the end of a prominent politician 's career ?
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Annie sat under the big, oak tree playing with her toy horses. They galloped across the soft grass, jumped over the roots rising out of the ground and slept in the patches of dirt peeking through the grass.
Her dad walked over and picked her up, rocking her onto his hip and burying his face in her hair.
“ It ’ s time to go home, pumpkin, ” he says, the tip of his nose touching her tiny little one.
“ OK, Daddy, ” she says. “ And the park will be here tomorrow? You promise? ”
“ Yes, baby. We ’ ll come back tomorrow. No one is going to take it away. ”
Mark dropped Annie softly onto the ground, and gathered up her bag of ponies before placing her plump little hand in his.
“ Thank you, for saving our park, Daddy. ”
Mark stopped and looked down at the little girl with the chocolaty curls. He dropped down onto one knee.
“ What makes you think I had anything to do with this? ”
She laughed and shook her head, the curls tumbling over her head like clothes in a dryer.
“ I heard you talking, Daddy. ”
Mark meets my gaze over Annie ’ s head, his face blanched and his eyes darted with panic. I lift my eyebrows. It ’ s a question, not a sentencing, but he continues to stare. I shake my head softly, and Mark relaxes and wraps his arms around his daughter, holding her close. I can ’ t hear them, but I know he ’ s telling her to wait for a minute, and she pulls one pony – just one, I can see him say, holding up an index finger, and he comes over. He nods in my direction, his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“ She doesn ’ t really know. ”
I wave his comment away and toss a handful of bread crumbs onto the concrete. I love to watch the birds swoop down in droves and fight over the edible pieces.
“ Do not worry, Mark. No one would believe a four-year-old anyway, and I covered our tracks. ” Mark looks around the park. Just before sundown, it ’ s almost empty. It ’ s just him and Annie, me, a homeless man clutching a paper bag like a child, and a pair of housewives making their evening jog around the peripheral.
“ No one is going to pick up the Senator ’ s work? ” Mark asks in a hushed voice. The birds fly away and I toss another crumb out, a big one, but just one. Two pigeons both grab it, their beaks locked.
“ It was a pet project. No one else will fight for it. ” One pigeon wins, swallowing the bread in a single gulp. The other looks at me expectantly, and I close up the bag. No one gets anything for free.
“ So the park stays. ”
“ Yes, ” I say. “ The park stays. And it will. For as long as I want it to. ”
Annie appears from behind Mark ’ s leg, a pink Clydesdale tugged in the nook between her elbow and her body, her tiny, round fingers wrapped around the step of a white-topped dandelion.
“ This is for you, Mr. Jones, ” she said, in that angelic little voice. She holds it out to me, and I take it. “ My wish already came true. ”
“ Oh, no, Annie. I ’ m sure there ’ s more you could wish for. ”
She shakes her head again. I love watching the light bounce off her curls, and I find myself wondering, yet again, if my own daughter would have had ringlets like Annie does. She is such a charming girl. Annie looks up at her dad, her eyes shining.
“ No, sir. I have my Daddy, and my park, and my ponies. There ’ s
nothing else I could wish for. ”
I ’ m still holding the dandelion as they walk away. If only I knew what to wish for.
-- -
-30
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[ WP ] You notice something strange on a normal household object , and as you squint to look closer you notice - Pixels .
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`` Jane, look at this.'' Alex passed her the mug. `` Pixels! Do you think it's factory damage?''
`` I hope so'' Jane sounded as nervous as he did. `` I truly hope so.''
`` Did any of us drink from it today?'' asked Alex. `` No, but… but Mark just did, before leaving. And he was going to help us pick Emily… oh God!''
Grabbing random clothes, they ran to the car.
Fortunately they caught up with Mark before he entered the kindergarten. As he heard them calling his name, he stopped and turned to them. He looked just as he always did, well dressed, friendly, reliable, a bit confused by their arrival.
But his right hand was all pixels.
`` Did something happen?'' he asked, seemingly unaware of his problem.
`` You are a glitch, Mark!''. Alex was almost out of breath. With Emily in danger, he had to be direct. `` Look at your hand!''
Mark froze in horror. He slowly looked at his hand, and then suddenly convulsed, warped, distorted. In his place was a vague humanlike shape, a breach, a tear in the air itself.
The shape turned to them.
`` One day, we will come here to stay'' it said, in a voice that could never be human. And broke down, disappeared. Only a pixel damage to the pavement was the reminder.
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[ WP ] Every single human is born with a timer on their wrist that counts down to their exact moment of death . Your time running out…
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My whole life has felt like a breath, waiting to be exhaled. My birth was a bittersweet one, with family and loved ones crowding around to count my fingers and toes, and to count my timer. My digits were up to par, but my timer earned my parents awkward condolences instead of congratulations. My aunt Linda tried to insist that sixteen years was `` plenty of time to live''.
Birthday were sad affairs in my household. Each one meant one less until my D day. And it's not like I had friends to invite. Who wanted to hang around the girl whose timer was running out? Even as small children, we judged each other by our time.
And school was a joke. I do n't know why my parents even made me go. Teachers passed me each year, even though I usually slept through class. It's not like it would matter in the end.
I was on anti-depressants by the time I was eight.
Sixteen years, 4 days, 12 hours and 36 seconds. What a joke. I wish I did n't know, I wish no one knew, but there it was. Stamped on my wrist just like on the milk carton. My expiration date. Dad still had 20 years on his, and often commented that he wished he could give them to me. Mom has 32. Hers has n't even started counting days yet. What a luxury, to not know what day of the week you're going to kick it.
And the fact that it does n't tell you how? The worst. Growing up, I had all these ideas of how it would happen. A plane crash, cancer, saving children from a burning orphanage, drowning during bath time. Mom threw out all of the pictures I drew for her. `` Draw something pretty'' she always begged. I'd draw her the flowers I wanted at my funeral. I do n't think mom likes me very much now.
My timer says two days now. I made it through my last birthday. We did n't pretend anymore. Over store bought pink cake we talked about how it would happen. I think it's safe to say illness has been ruled out. Doctors have checked me multiple times and have pronounced me exceedingly healthy. Dad stopped letting me leave the house a week ago. Mom has n't left her room. Aunt Linda keeps squeezing me and wheezing that I'm too young for this. She smokes two packs a day and she's got 28 years left. Cousin Jake yells at her, says that she's probably going to hug me to death. I like Jake, even if he's got 60 years.
My family talked about beating my timer, about how they can outsmart it. They think they've covered every possible outcome. There's no way death can find me, they say.
They do n't know about the pills I've been saving up.
( fixed some minor things )
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[ WP ] You find a maintenance hatch to Earth .
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`` Ah!'' I cried in pain. I looked behind me at the object that had made me fall. It looked like a handle.
What was a handle doing on the ground, all the way down this narrow cave? In all my caving years, I had never encountered such a thing.
I crawled nearer, on all fours. The handle was part of a large metal door. There was an inscription engraved upon it, in the form of rather primitive-looking lines and circles. Had it not been for the material, I would be sure I had stumbled upon some pre-historic finding.
I stood up and bent to grasp the latch. I pulled with all my strength, it was barely enough to move the damn thing. I looked inside: there seemed to be a staircase leading down, made of white marble. My curiosity was peaking.
I took out a light stick and broke it in two. I tossed it inside. It rolled for a while until it reached the bottom. Safe enough. With my trusty head-light lighting the way, I begun my descent.
Upon reaching level ground, I looked around me. I was in a stone corridor. The walls were lined with large pipes, large enough for a man to fit in. They seemed to be made of a stony, orange material. There was a heavy hum, as if I was standing near operating electrical machinery.
I started along the path before me. The pipes were mostly uniform in their winding, seldom intersecting with one another to switch places and continue on in the darkness.
I do not know how long I walked. Time has a way of standing still under the earth.
To my great astonishment, I realized I could hear voices nearby. I searched frantically for their source, until I arrived before a great set of doors on my right side, around which the pipes - cables? - gave way.
They reminded me of the grand entrance to an ornate temple. They were black, lined with silver and detailed with gold. Shimmering upon it were various fractal patterns, along with large white letters in that savage-looking tongue. The voices were coming from within.
I stood still. Did I mean to endanger myself by appearing before the mysterious dwellers of this bizarre tomb? Yet curiosity got the better of me.
I swung the gate open. Behind lay a large room, dimly lit by what appeared to be some sort of screens on the other end. Two large, humanoid creatures were turned to me in what I assumed to be surprise; and I do mean assume, as despite their similarities to men, their faces were eerily blank, save for a large, red gem seated on their foreheads. They wore no garb and had no hair or genitals; and they sported very large bird-like wings that touched the floor.
`` Ia!'' one shouted. `` Ai-ya, om.'' the other mentioned. I was petrified.
In the momentary stillness that followed, I managed to glimpse at the contents of the screens. On one was the earth, our lovely white-blue marble, along with various shifting apocryphal text. On the other was a straight vertical line, filled with a gradient that went from blue at the bottom to red at the top. Next to it was what looked like an arrow-head, pointing near the top of the line. Below that was more of the text, but blinking red.
One of the creatures turned to the screens. It made some cryptic gestures at it with its hands. It turned to look at me, in silence.
The next thing I remember is a bright, red flash. After that, I was outside the entrance of the cave - or, at least, what *used* to be the entrance: for it was sealed shut, not with a boulder or a gate, but seamlessly welded together with the rest of the rock surrounding it.
I have since reasoned that I must have been hallucinating, fell on my head and stumbled outside in a stupor, after which I got lost along the cliff-line and arrived at a similar looking spot.
But I now do my sincere best to not contribute to our planet's greenhouse effect.
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[ IP ] Through the Sea Gate ... .
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Callus whinnied in response to Willis' touch. The two had grown up together, back when Willis could n't manage two seconds mounted on a horse before falling clumsily to the ground. He was five then, his father still alive and teaching him to ride. Willis recalled, with a smile, how much he looked forward to each Saturday and his weekly horseback riding lesson. He wanted nothing more but to make his father proud and his chest would swell with joy whenever he received encouragement that he was improving.
*'' You'll ride better than me one day, I can see it in you. `` *
As a child, Willis spent every moment he could with Callus. It was the only time when he did n't have to pretend that the insults thrown his way did n't hurt him. He was too young to understand why exactly his mother was n't with him anymore. Neither did the other children, Willis thought, but they simply saw it as another reason to cast him out. He was n't allowed to play with them.
*'' We do n't play with orphans, sorry. `` *
Callus was Willis' only friend and he did n't mind that. It gave them time to form a special bond that no one else in his village had the chance to experience; the bond of a young man and his companion. It was a bond that would get both of them through the most difficult times of their lives.
Willis gazed at the shimmering mirror of blue, standing at the doorstep of the *City in the Water*, knowing all too well what that time was. His father, the only family he had, was gone. He had n't seen him in over ten years.
He was only eight when his father left. He awoke one night to the sounds of hooves echoing through his village and his father hastily packing a knapsack. He'd drowsily rubbed his eyes and asked his father what was going on.
`` Willis, I have to go. Our village is in danger, there are bad people headed this way and we have to stop them.''
He'd tied the knapsack and held his head between his hands.
`` Willis, I'm sorry. I have no choice.'' Furious pounding at the wooden door interrupted them. Shouting could now be heard. `` Look, go into your room and lock the door. Do n't open it for anyone but me, understand? If I'm not back by sunrise, take Callus and go. Just go. Do n't look back.''
His father embraced him.
`` I love you, son.''
His father never returned. Sunrise came and Willis waited for a knock at his door that never came. With tears running down his cheeks, he'd snuck out the window and ridden Callus away from his village. He did n't look back, except once. Night had fallen and Callus had slowed to a gentle trot. The tears had long since dried and left salty stains on his face, but that quick glance back to his village brought new tears that he thought he'd already cried.
An orange blaze illuminated the dark, starless sky as his village burned to the ground.
Callus shook his mane. The northern breeze brought the scent of pine through the valley. Willis filled his lungs with the rich air and gazed upon the clouds. The golden rays of the rising sun lit up the sky in a brilliant glow. Silhouetted against it was the magnificent Sea Gate, entrance to the mystical city of Azmarin.
`` Indeed, there it is,'' Willis spoke. Callus perked his ears up. `` It's more impressive than the tales, is n't it?''
Months of journey had taken Willis here. The Sea Gate held stories of treasure and power, driving many to seek its fortune. Some said those who discovered it were granted extraordinary powers, powers beyond human comprehension. Others told of great mountains of gold, glimmering and shining in the sunlight. A few told stories of love, and that behind the gates was the thing one desired most.
None of those tales interested Willis, though, and as he ran his hand over the sword his father had left him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a faded piece of parchment. It was yellowed with age and torn around the edges, but it was the one word that was etched into the center that spoke to Willis.
Beyond those gates was his father, he knew.
Because written in black ink, now faded and discolored, was the word: *Son. *
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[ WP ] At some point , an AI will be sentient enough that they wo n't know they are n't human . You were stabbed in the neck but do n't die , and your son needs an explanation .
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Jacob anxiously peaked from behind the parked car. His step-mom was pinned against the light pole by the mugger. He wanted to run, but felt obligated to stay. All he could do was watch in terror. The mugger was shorter than his step mom, but he seemed much stronger and savage. She was trying to free her throat from the pressure of his elbow, while he was frantically grabbing at her purse. He continually cussed at her and kept saying that he had a knife.
By the yellow light of the street lamp, Jacob saw the glint of the knife in the man's hand. He plunged it repeatedly into her neck and and chest, but she still continued to struggle with him as if nothing had happened. She freed herself and the man looked at her with some hesitation. He took a step toward her and looked as if he was about to pounce on her, but then suddenly ran off. Jacob then ran to her while trying to hold back tears.
`` Oh my God! Oh my God!'' he began to lose his composure rather quickly and collapsed in front of her hugging her legs, `` Are you OK?'' he sobbed. `` I saw him stab you! Please do n't die! Oh my God!'' He hated himself for behaving this way, he was 13 and should act more brave and mature, but at the same time, he did n't care.
She was perplexed for many reasons. Should she feel fear, compassion, panic; or wonder that she was still alive. One hand went to comfort her step-son, the other to feel the smooth gashes in her neck. Home would be the best option, she thought.
`` I'm fine, Lets' -- lets' just go home. Everythings' Ok now. I-I think we should just get out of here, OK?''
He nodded in agreement and they continued to the car as they had been before the whole nightmare started. It was a silent car ride. Her neck hurt very little and there was absolutely no blood. She tried to discreetly glance in the rear view mirror to see her neck, but it was too dark to see and she did n't want to draw attention to something she could n't explain. Jacob kept glancing at her, and she knew he would ask when he got the courage, so she needed to think of something quickly.
`` Are your sure you're OK?'' he asked
`` Yah! I'm-fine. Really.'' She needed to stall him before he asked about her neck. `` How are you doing? Pretty scary, huh?''
He suddenly opened up his feelings to her with more honesty and sincerity than she ever got from him since marrying his father. The cascade of pent up emotion caught her completely off guard. She answered his questions and comforted his insecurities like she was his real mother. She tried to relate to him by thinking about her childhood, but all of her memories stopped at the day she was released from the hospital with amnesia.
It seemed to her that he was n't going to ask about her neck, now that they had gotten distracted over a long touching conversation about other things.
`` What are you going to tell Dad about getting stabbed?'' he asked as they pulled on their street.
She almost stopped the car. `` It was -- probably a dull knife and it only glanced off me.''
He looked mildly disappointed with her response. She pulled into garage and set the parking break. She knew this was n't going to work. They just sat in the car for a moment after she turned it off.
`` I do n't know.'' She said turning to him. `` I do n't know why I'm not hurt. Just, please do n't tell your father, or anyone.''
Jacob only nodded his head like he had been given the greatest responsibility of his life.
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[ OT ] Writing Workshop # 20 : Timed Writing
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She wore shoes, cracked and frayed about the balls of her feet where the rubber soles and canvas tops were once pristinely glued. They were comfortable for walking in the evenings after the sun heatedly beat the asphalt and concrete, but the recent cloud cover brought nightly rains that soaked them soggy. They bubbled, hissed and squeaked with every step as she crossed the checkered linoleum floor to the stairwell. She hopped up the steps two at a time to the third floor, apartment 332. The shared living area was dark and quiet when she entered, no lights shone underneath the bedroom doors or through the drizzled windows.
She went to her room, turned on the shower and removed her drenched cotton clothes. Trading water, cold for hot, she hummed the tune of a wordless song. She hummed as she wrung her hair, toweled off and brushed her teeth, interrupted only by a quick gargle and spit. She hummed until her hair was dried, ready then to go to sleep. She looked out her window on the sleeping world that dreamed during the night ’ s cold work. Cold and dark though nights may be, days were when she slept; for days were of a different dark and colder than any night she ’ d met.
***
Well it may not be coherent, but it was 30 minutes.
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[ WP ] The oft-forgotten child of an otaku couple has raised themself with the anime scattered around their house since they were a toddler . Now , it 's their first day of middle school ...
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`` Alright class, I'd like you to introduce yourselves! Let's go down the line, beginning with Anne...''
He scoffed. `` Useless. Revealing yourselves to the enemy will only return to stab you in the back. The foolishness of the unenlightened!'' His inner monologue boomed. On second thought, his inner monologue was actually subtitles, so that would n't have made sense. He dismissed this minor trip-up.
`` Hi, my name is Anne, and I, uhhhmmm...'' The young girl spoke with a sweet voice, `` uhmm....Ilikesportslikesoccerbecausemybigbrothertaughtmehowtoplaythankyou!'' Anne panicked and sat down, covering her face in her hands.
`` Ha! I refuse to be fooled by her feeble character. She must be one of the *yandere*-types, secretly crazed when her love is threatened, come to think of it she might be a total brocon as well!''
He smirked. No character archetype could escape his trained and experienced eyes, filled with the wisdom of the sacred moving scrolls from a distant land, his ancestors left him with this untapped power. Raised by their teachings, he gained infinite knowledge and incomprehensible mental strength. It was through his bottomless charm and wit did he truly manage to infiltrate the enlightenment facility to scout for impure souls. It was an uphill battle against the multi-tiered empire, but he finally arrived where he stood now.
One by one, the unenlightened carelessly revealed their personal traits, or as he saw it, vulnerabilities. He was envisioning tactics to tackle these deceptively powerful fiends and turn them to the bright side within seconds of them opening their mouths. The big men of the facility had leaked crucial information to this skilled spy, `` problem children'' the fellow occupants of the classroom were called. Actually, this `` classroom'' could be described as a thinly-veiled ESPer battleground, so he went with that.
Finally, it was his turn. `` And last of all, I am your new teacher, do n't call me mister, call me Ken-sama. It is my goal to get every single one of you out of problem-class because I know, deep down inside, every one of you has potential to change for the better.''
And he was the best god damn teacher we ever had.
Edit: hi thuya
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[ WP ] `` Suicide may be punishable by up to fifty years life-extension . ''
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Life's hard here. Sixteen hours a day you work. Your dark sweaty grime mixes with rocks and dust, tearing open callouses with agonizing regularity. History has a way of repeating itself: we break big rocks into small rocks, on an industrial scale. You owe society a debt. For what crime... no one cares. The Corporation bought that debt, and in this asteroid, you'll mine until it's paid.
The fountain of youth. It's a clear tube 2.25 meters tall, and a meter wide. After 16 hours of work, every prisoner is returned to the tube. For 6 hours a soup of proteins, enzymes, and modified stem cells fill that sterile tomb, repairing all the day's physiological damage to your body. Akin to both drowning and immolation, the experience is horrendous. It does n't have to be, but its cheaper to administer it this way.
The Prison Reform Act. A real splendid piece of bipartisan legislation. Both the death penalty and life without parole were banned. The public penal system was drastically reduced. The bleeding hearts patted themselves on the back, while the concept of a `` debt to society'', was reinterpreted in a more fiscal light.
So that year you owe society, has a dollar figure attached to it. A figure The Corporation is happy to pay, but only if they can get more than a year of you.
The rules. So many rules. The Corporation does n't recoup its investment if you serve only your sentence. So they make these rules. Break a tool: that's five years added on to your sentence, as just recompense to The Corporation. A Fight is 10 years, for all involved. And Suicide, that's 20 years minimum, and up to fifty years if you lose an arm or leg in the process. They've got to account for the reduced efficiency. Some people, they ca n't adjust. The sentences become incomprehensibly long. Each day, No closer to death and even further from freedom.
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[ WP ] You run an agency of time travelers who are dispatched to break the hearts of famous singers through out their lives and inspire their timeless music .
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It all started with Kennedy. Sure he'd sung about heartbreak before, but you never really heard it in his voice until Larry here took that shot from the grassy knoll. It always surprises people when I tell them this, but nothing puts some colour in a man's voice like the grief of a nation.
Vietnam was next. That took a bit more effort from all of us but how else could we have got a white man to sing rock and roll like that. We did n't start that war but we sure did our best to keep it going when we saw the effect it was having on his voice.
Richard was the masterstroke.We'd always called him tricky dicky since he started with us but his early attempts had failed. It's not hard to see how you go from Viva Las Vegas to Promised Land via Watergate. Destroy a man's trust in his leader and you soon hear that soul.
Priscilla was next. Our Yoko Mk 2. Luckily, she did n't suffer from a rogue agent attack like poor Yoko, but by God I never saw him love a woman like her and she made him sincere.
Do I feel any guilt over how it all ended? Not at all. I'm proud that I introduced him to those doctors, those dealers, that chef. In art you have to go to extremes. Turn the knob to 11. How else can we give the people what they want?
Something you learn in this job is that there are never any unexpected consequences. If we get things wrong, well we're time travellers. We get to retake the test.
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[ WP ] Sir , this is just a piece of paper that says `` It was inside you all along '' .
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In the corner of the spacious dining room stood an enormous cabinet. More than eight feet high and five wide, it was filled with clocks of every conceivable shape and ornamentation. The timepieces ticked and tocked unanimously, nearly inaudible, hushed behind thick glass panes spidered with gold filigree. The last three hours had passed uncomfortably and with a slowness I had thought impossible. I had been silenced by something ill defined; a brutally thick, nauseating yet irresistible aroma and the quiet tick tick tick. Chimes rang from within the cabinet and my host inhaled sharply. Resurrected from my reverie and my senses awakened I found myself unspeakably ravenous. `` I understood this to be a dinner party?'' I managed to mutter through mummified cords. `` Please,'' he said. `` Open your letter.'' A small yellowed envelope sat before me. On the front my name was scrawled in an angry shade of crimson. I hesitated. `` I'm terribly hungry...'' The man smiled. `` Please,'' he repeated as he rose from his place at the head of the table. `` Open your letter.'' My hands fumbled, sluggish and unresponsive, as I tore at the envelope. `` Where is the food?'' I heard myself say as the note inside the envelope drifted out and pirouetted upon my lap. `` Read it,'' he said, now standing inches behind me. I could feel his breath upon my neck and the smell that permeated the room spilled unctuously from his lips.
`` Sir, this is just a piece of paper that says'It was inside you all along.'''
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[ wp ] Broken , Alone , Insane , and Childless . Harley Quinn prepares to take her own life but is saved by the one man who can make her into someone who can defeat the Batman . Ra 's Al Ghul .
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Harley was sitting in the corner of the empty warehouse. Her knees pulled up against her chest and her red and black costume stained with her tears. It was over, all over. Spread across the floor were negative pregnancy tests. She had been taking them in secret.
Harley had longed to a sign of the love she felt, and a baby would've been perfect. But Mister J. would never want anyone to become the joker, and he would never want to have an heir. Oh Mister J. Poor puddin'. She still could n't believe he was gone. It was impossible, how could he die and leave her like this. Well no more.
She snapped her head up, making the tips of her harlequin hat bounce, and grabbed the gun lying next to her. With tears running down her face, smearing her white makeup with black mascara, she put the gun against her temple. A smile came to her face. `` I'm coming puddin''' she yelled and pulled the trigger.
But there was no bang. There was no bullet, flying trough her brain and ending her misery. All she heard was the sound of a clowns horn as the gun moved away from her head, pushed aside by the flag that emerged against her head. She brought the gun down, her smile not fading when she saw the colorful'BANG' written on the flag in explosive letters. Her smile did n't fade when tears started streaming down her face again. She was still smiling as she started screaming in agony, raising to her feet. Her smile remained, as the shards of glass cut into her skin when she shattered the third floor window. She smiled all the way down to the ground. Even when the impact shattered most bones in her body, she kept smiling. And she was still smiling when the last thing she saw was a shady figure, bending over her, before all turned black.
-- -
**Harley**
Where was she? Harley felt disoriented.
**Harley!! **
Was that voice her puddin'? Was she dead and finally reunited?
**Harley, wake up!!! You're drowning!!! **
She opened her eyes and tried to breath. But all that happened was that she gulped in a bunch of water. No, not water. This tasted awful. In reflex she started kicking around, trying to find some sort of orientation point. Then she hit the floor. At least she thought it was a floor. With a swift kick she was propelled away from it and a second later the liquid disappeared. Gasping for air she clawed her way to land.
She still registered things around her, but everything was hazy. As if she was n't in full control. She could see she was in a cave. She now could see the pool of green glowing liquid she has been emerged in. She could also see the three masked men coming down to meet her.
She did n't know who these guys were, but she knew she wanted to kill them. And not even in a funny way. Just straight, rip their throats out, kill them. And somehow, she was very okay with that idea. With ease she started cartwheeling over to the guys, landing on her hands and kicking two of them in the face, sending them flying.
*Wait, was n't she supposed to be dead? *
With one push from her arms, she landed on the third guy's shoulders. Without pause she started flailing away, hitting his masked face with a barrage of scratching fingers.
*Yeah, she could remember now. She fell three stories down. She should n't be able to do this. *
By the time she was sure she started feeling blood through the mask, the other two guys had gotten up and we're trying to grab her. She wrapped her legs around this guy's head, spun her body until her weight-shift resulted in a snap from her victim's neck and he went limp. She landed on her feet between the two other guys.
*Wait, wait, wait. Where was she? How did she come here? And now that she thought about it, why was she butt naked? *
`` Who are you creeps?'' She yelled at the masked men. The both of them threw each other a glance and took a step back. `` I asked you bozos a question.'' She yelled. `` Why did you bring me here?''
`` I brought you here...'' A voice from somewhere above Harley boomed. `` To save you, miss Quinn.'' The two masked men turned and fell on their knees.
Harley looked up at the elevated platform the voice came from. `` What if I did n't want to be saved!'' She yelled up at the silhouette watching over her. Her voice and posture may still have been confident, but in her mind she started connecting the dots. Weird ninjas, a pit that healed and messed her up at the same time and a big guy in charge of it all. She was facing Ra's-Al-Ghul.
Ra's did n't answer. He just waved, and the two figures next to her got up and covered her naked body with black fabric. Once she was covered in her improvised dress Ra's spoke again. `` You are a broken woman, my child.'' He said in his deep seductive voice. `` But we can fix you.''
Harley crossed her arms and put on a pouty lip. `` I'm perfectly fine to fix myself, thank you very much.'' She pointed a thumb at her chest. `` I have a psychology degree.''
Ra's frowned. `` The shattered body I found, on the brink of death, seems to disagree.''
Harley's cheeks turned red. `` Well... Maybe that was what I need.''
Now Ra's smiled. Not a warm, welcoming smile. But the cold and dark smile of a predator, closing in on his prey. `` No, miss Quinn.'' He said. `` What you need, is closure.''
This got Harley curious. `` And how are you supposed to get me that, mister demon's head?'' She tried to keep her defiant tone, but even she felt it falter.
`` I, can give you revenge.'' Ra's spread his arms wide. `` I, can give you, THE BAT.''
That last word boomed through the cave, sending chills down Harley's spine. `` Mister.'' She answered, her eyes boiling with hatred. `` You've got yourself a deal.'' And for the first time in weeks Harley had a purpose. And she smiled. She smiled that same smile as when her love had still been around. `` Just wait a little longer puddin'. I'm coming.'' She whispered as the two masked men guided her away.
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A sketchy old man offers you a special golden bottle of shampoo . On its direction and uses its says `` Apply liberally to hair and face and leave overnight . This shampoo is proven to reveal who you were in your previous life . '' You wake up the next morning and look in the mirror . [ WP ]
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Whatever. It's just shampoo. On a college student's budget, you use what you can get. And this bottle was pure freakin' gold. Felt kinda nice. Face was... clean, but puffy. Soft? And I'm a guy, so soft is kind of a new one. Anyway, I slept pretty well that night.
When I woke up, I felt different. Strange. I walked over to the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and gasped. My face was not my own. It had worked, but not as I had hoped. I was n't a hero, a king, a religious leader. I was n't anyone particularly beautiful or handsome. It also had n't worked as I had feared. I was n't an infamous serial killer. I was n't a dictator. I was n't particularly young or old.
The face was like my own, but the eyes were a little wider. The nose sharper at the bridge, but wider at the base. Skin tone mostly the same, lips a bit bigger. A dusting of nine o'clock shadow. I touched it. It felt hard and bristly.
My driver's license would n't do anymore. All my identification was useless. As far as the world was concerned, I had vanished off the face of the earth. Which sucks. Because I'm not a criminal. Because I have nothing to hide. Because all that hard work I put into getting my degree will go to waste. Because I have no friggin' clue who this is.
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[ WP ] The year is 2055 , and mankind has invented the technology to communicate with `` Mans best friend '' . The horror we felt at discovering what they were staring at , when looking at `` nothing '' , is humanities greatest regret ...
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Lucas Killian, the 15 year old inventor and entrepreneur, had just finished the project he had set out to accomplish when he was only 9 years old: A collar with a voice modulator to specifically turn a dog's barks, yips, and whines into simplified human speech. Finally he would be able to get to the bottom of his childhood companion's fears.
`` Barkly'' the Jack Russel Terrier was such a joyful puppy when the Killian family went to meet with the dog breeder's new litter that he out-shined all of his brothers and sisters. After trotting up to Lucas and dropping his front two legs down into a `` let's play'' position and then running around Lucas' as they chased each other across the field, it was no contest - the family fell in love with Barkly then and there and adopted him the same day.
... So the family had always thought it was strange that, almost moments after they brought him home, he had started acting so fearful and fidgety. When Barkly was just one year old he began often hiding beneath the bed in the master bedroom and growling nervously while staring into the backyard. Despite the family's numerous attempts to bring their poor puppy to trainers, dog-parks, veterinarians, and even animal psychologists, they were completely helpless to change Barkly's fearful demeanor.
One particularly nightmarish event occurred when Barkly got kidney stones and was brought to an emergency vet since the family could not properly diagnose him. The veterinarian accused the family of allowing someone to practice surgical techniques on Barkly when he discovered the dog had an old incision on his lower back that appeared to have been seared shut. It coincided with a missing kidney.
`` What in God's name is wrong with you people?! No wonder your dog is so paranoid! Give me one good God damn reason I should n't contact the authorities right now and have you arrested for animal abuse!''
`` What?! What are you accusing us of?!'' Shouted Lucas' father.
`` The records say you've had this dog since it was six months old, right? So when did you do it? When did you open him up and take out his Kidney? Who the hell is the maniac backyard surgeon? Tell me, now.''
The fight raged on and on, and eventually the vet **did** contact the authorities. But the allegations being thrown at the family could not be proven. The surgical incision and missing kidney were clear, but the police said unless the vet had evidence that the act was committed by someone within the family or Barkly was in dire health, there was nothing they could do. Lucas cried on the way home for his companion, and Lucas' mother wept as well.
`` Barkly, get out here, you dumb dog.'' Called Lucas as he climbed down onto his knees and leaned over his find the 9 year old Pooch in his normal hiding space beneath Lucas' parent's bed. `` I've got something extra special for you today.''
As usual, Lucas had to grab the dog by his collar and pull him out from his hiding space to get him to come out.
Lucas brought Barkly into the living room and sat him down on the couch where he petted and kneaded the dog to try and calm him down, but Barkly just kept staring into the densely-wooded back yard growling nervously.
Slipping the voice-modulator collar onto Barkly, Lucas whispered to his companion, `` What do you see boy? What is it?'' Naturally Barkly could n't understand, but as the dog whimpered and growled the same two words crackled through the modulator's tiny stereo:
*'' Something theeeere... Something theeeere...'' *
Lucas jumped for joy for the briefest of moments when he realized that his invention had worked! He did n't care quite so much about the money or pride of creating something wonderful, what he cared about was the fact that he could now figure out his dog's troubles... But then those words dawned on him and his face paled. A cold-snap surged through his body and covered him in goosebumps as he too began to stare out the window.
*'' Something theeeere... Something theeeere...'' *
Barkly just kept repeating those words through the crackling voice-box.
`` Alright boy.. We're going outside. I'm going to show you there's nothing to be afraid of.''
Lucas quickly got Barkly's leash and, despite having to pull his companion along, they began walking deep into the forest that Lucas had made forts in and played hide-and-go-seek in as a child.
*'' No.. No.. No..'' * The dog pleaded. *'' Me hide! Not make angry! Not bother! No! `` *
The further they went into the forest the more anxious Barkly got, now trying to sit down every few feet in protest of being taken on this walk. But Lucas pulled him along, ready to burst into tears, hoping there was some way to fix his broken dog.
*'' THEY HEEEERE! `` * boomed through the voicebox as Barkly let out a howl like he never had before. *'' THEY HEEEERE! `` * He bolted back towards the house, the leash slipping out of Lucas' grasp, the dog lost from sight in just a matter of minutes.
Lucas looked around and saw nothing, baffled by the dog's behavior. And then he heard the rustle of a bush and the snap of a few twigs in the ground from what seemed like just a few dozen feet ahead. `` -AAH'' He screamed and turned around, sprinting as fast as he could for a full minute until he'd cleared the forest, promptly running into his house and locking every door.
Lucas watched the back yard for a good five minutes before he finally calmed down. Nothing seemed to have pursued him, and he started to think his imagination was playing tricks on him because of his overly-stressful dog's behavior.
`` Baaaaarkllllly!'' Lucas called through the hallways of his home, wondering if the dog had snuck into the house before he had. No response. `` Barkly!'' Lucas called again just as he peered beneath his parent's bed, but no dog was to be found.
*knock! knock! * Sounded off a harsh rasping against the front door.
`` Be right there!'' Yelled Lucas, jogging to the door quickly thereafter. No one was there. It was n't all that uncommon for the children in the cul de sac to play `` ding-dong-ditch,'' but this was the middle of the afternoon and Lucas suddenly filled with an eerie sensation.
`` H-hello..?'' Lucas called through the front door, not daring to unlock it.
`` Master. I am here. Please let me in.'' The words were clear as day and spoken properly, yet as Lucas peered through the glass panes of the door he could see no dog.
*knock! knock!'' Came the same exact rasping from the back door.
`` Maaaaaster! Maaaaaaster! Let's play!''
Lucas grabbed the phone and hit dial, ready to call the police, or his father, or his neighbors. His mind was running at a million miles per hour, he did n't know what to do. *EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE* hissed an electronic scream from the phone when it was turned on, indicating a malfunction. It was useless.
*knock knock* This time, someone or something was knocking on the windows.
`` GET OUT OF HERE! I ALREADY CALLED THE POLICE, THEY'RE COMING RIGHT NOW! GET OUT OF HERE!'' yelled the helpless teen in a desperate bid.
Silence. Lucas stood next to the front door with his back to the wall, clinging to his chest as his heart felt like it was going to explode. The deadbolt on the front door suddenly turned on it's own. Lucas grabbed the deadbolt and tried to lock it again, but it simply would n't budge. The front door opened despite Lucas pushing on it with all his might, and the pitter-patter of what must have been dozens of footsteps accompanied by the creaking of floorboards could be heard all throughout the house.
Lucas tried to scream, but he was rendered entirely mute, as if noise-cancelling waves were eliminating all the sound that came from him, and him only.
Lucas shut his eyes tight, but shortly after a pair of fingers forced his lids open. He was staring up at a small army of creatures that were shaped like humans, but had no eyes, nose, mouth, or ears, were covered in wrinkles that resembled a tarp, and were a greyish gunmetal color.
`` Hello master.'' Came the crackle from Lucas' invention as one of the strange beings held the device in it's hands, not even having to hold it to it's throat to make it produce sound. Lucas screamed and cried, but still there was no sound. He felt his body being lifted into the air by countless hands, and could do nothing but watch as they carried him out into the forest in his back yard.
`` Lucas..?'' Called Mrs. Killian after returning home from work. Her son usually greeted her upon arrival. Stepping into her sons room, she looked in horror as gasped, `` LUCAS!!'' Lucas' body was stretch out on the floor, his own doggy voice-modulator strapped around his neck. It must have shorted, because the body's throat was blown open, and darkened blood clotted and coagulated around the would.
Barkly could be heard whimpering in the other room.
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[ WP ] In a world where mirrors do n't reflect light , but souls , you 've made a unique prison for the worst criminals . Every wall is a mirror . Many repent and become better people , faced with the ugliest parts of their soul . One just laughs .
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He was known across the Universe. Syco Nik. The monster was originally Captain of a Spear Tip Armada vessel. He was a decorated officer. Toward the end of the War of Unification, his ship was alone before the final resistance bastion. They were begging for mercy, calling out their surrender. He took direct control. He scorched most of the planet.
He wound up here, in my special creation. The Tartarus Mirrors were the culmination of life's work on rehabilitation and corrections. The viewer saw not what they seemed, but who they really were. A true representation of their soul stared back at them.
Syco Nik was brought here after half a fleet fell taking the latest planet he had designated his personal hellscape play land. Thankfully, they managed to capture him and put down the last batch of cultists and criminals he had inspired.
After the processing period, I personally brought him before the Mirrors. I expected my most successful case yet. The rehabilitation of the universes last evil. We stood in the center of the room, I counted down and then flipped the switch turning on the special rad lights and the activator of the chemicals in the walls. We were met with the reflective surface of the gateway into the heart of man.
He began to laugh. Not a chuckle of disbelief or a guffaw of defiance. He laughed the maniacal shout of a devil in victory. I had intentionally positioned myself to see only my own reflection of a pail silver specter of neutrality, the image of the imprisoned was violently unpleasant upon arrival. I turned to see him then. I fell to my knees.
Before me stood, not the image of horrid evil I expected, but a golden aura'd heavenly figure carrying a scale of justice in one hand and a blade of holy fire in the other. I could n't fathom what this meant. My mind was beginning to unravel. I felt the hands taking my keycard but could no longer move from the shock.
When they found me, after cutting their way past Syco's path of chaos, apparently I muttered the same phrase again and again, until sedated. I do not remember anything after seeing the reflection. I've written this, upon my deathbed, so that the world may understand my fall. I spent years returning to sanity, but I still hear the echo of God's voice inside my mind, almost at all times.
'Without darkness, there can be no light.'
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[ WP ] You take a new street drug that knocks you out and gives you lucid dreams . It works , but the result is a nightmare . You try to wake yourself up .
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I'm lying in bed. The chalky taste of the pill still on my tongue. I was hesitant. I've been trying so hard for years and then they come along with a little pill that will take away all that discipline and determination. The hesitance might be joined by a feeling of smug satisfaction. The idea is that across the country kids are popping these thinking it'll be a shortcut to ravaging that model in the grocery store checkout, or flying through the air like some type of self-obsessed bird.
These thoughts drift in and out as I begin to feel my body relax. My eyes flutter, and the the lamplight in the room does little to stop the shapes from dimming. Here it is, I think. Finally, satisfaction. My mind remains clear and conscious as I can feel my body begin to paralyze itself in preparation for the dreamscape, but all I see is darkness.
I lay there unable to move for what seems like hours. I feel as if I'm perpetually on the cusp of slipping over a waterfall and just plunging into it, but I never tip and I never fall. That's when I feel it. The feeling of someone behind you or the feeling of not being entirely alone within a room. That's when my eyes open. They take a moment to adjust to the brightness, but, even while its edges are still gray and unfocused, I see it.
Tall, gaunt, vaguely feminine it stands in the corner of my room, loose tatters of clothes still clinging to what you could call flesh and what you could call bone. I feel a rise of terror in my chest, but my mind still lingers. My mind says that this is sleep paralysis. In all my years of attempted lucidity I have been to this hell before. My mind knows that there is a way out if I do not give in to the fear. All I have to do is break the paralysis that turns my body into a cage. All I have to do is look away, clench my fist, and wake up.
I dragged my eyes away from the form and closed them to any further intrusions on my mind. Fear would not hold me like this. I put all of my strength into my hand hoping my will would wake me. That's when I heard movement. I must keep my eyes closed. I can not feed that fear. That's when I heard breath rattle at the foot of my bed. My eyes opened unwillingly and I saw it. My eyes, more focused now, took in the image against my will. Tall, gaunt, a corpse stood at the foot of my bed, a mockery of a white sundress hanging from its shoulders.
Look away, clench fist, wake up.
I can do this. I feel tears forming in my eyes as the mind shattering terror runs the length of my body setting fire to every nerve it touches. I'm not here. I'm in a safe place. I'm going to wake up. I put all of my will into my right hand pleading it to move, but without result. I hear movement again, almost graceful steps and the rattling of breath across broken ribs. It's at my side. The fear impulse overcomes me and my eyes begin to open again. You could say it's looking at me, but from this distance I can clearly see that where there should be eyes are just hollow sockets, empty rooms staring into me.
I can hardly think of my hand now. Every ounce of strength is committed to keeping my eyes shut. I know this is a dream and I know it ca n't hurt me. I will not fear. I will not fear. I will not fear. Its breathing gets deeper and closer to me as I send the last impulse to my fingers. I can feel the cold breath on my face and the deafening rattle in its rib cage.
That's when I feel it. All at once the sound ceases and I can feel life flick through my fingers. My body, though immobile, had been so tense that when I finally relaxed I could feel blood rushing to my head. It was euphoria. I was free. I opened my eyes and gazed into empty sockets.
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[ WP ] A flying saucer appears and creates a fully functioning space elevator in the Democratic Republic of the Congo , they then leave without further contact . Describe our reactions during the event and over the following year .
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Theodore Lawrence Wallace, the new director of the Army Corps of Engineers, had just given his brief on the information gained and potential future gains and it was n't what anyone wanted.
The president was n't happy but he knew he would n't be.
`` Is there anything you would like clarified, sir?''
`` No Ted, I was only hoping. Thank you.''
There really was n't much else to be said. It had been a hope but that was it. Now even the hope of reverse engineering the device was gone.
It was the greatest opportunity for international scientific and social betterment that the world had know in president Duncan's lifetime and it was gone. Certainly some of the materials could be studied but that would only be part of the story.
The only saving grace was that most people now knew that humans were not the sole intelligent species in the universe. Even then many more people than usual followed the conspiracy crowd. The only people who had truly seen the craft were a handful of tribesmen and park rangers.
Where did it go wrong? Most of the armchair blog ranters were blaming the Chinese government for keeping the discovery secret for so long but that was too simplistic.
It was politics and greed that did in the opportunity. The Chinese were right to keep quiet. How much they had learned from the device was still unclear but it was a lot more than anyone else had.
Was it the U.S. government for making it public? In truth that argument had more merit. When the first CIA agents arrived to study the site, far out in the African wilderness west of Kibangou, the Chinese had good teams hard at work studying it in peace.
As soon as NASA made a public confirmation mobs of reporters flooded the site - it should be noted their camps destroyed a sizable quantity of natural splendor - and diplomats of every sort had to grandstand and claim their chance to study it and use it.
Attention grew and as it did so did the temptation to own a little bit. People could n't control themselves and had n't a clue how it worked so they took vital components as souvenirs. From that point on it was just a monument to the good will of an unknown species and even that did n't last long.
President Duncan remembered how his heart sank watching the devise finally disintegrate. And now this report saying that the Congolese would not permit any but their own scientists to study the debris.
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[ EU ] The Doctor & his companion land in the same world/universe of the last movie/t.v . show you watched .
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In order to give them some space, Rose and the Doctor headed off to one of the courtyards of the building and sat on one of the stone tables as the sun rose. `` This place is so different from where I grew up.'' Rose said as she laced her hands together and rested them over her lap. The Doctor nodded in agreement and leaned back, using his long arms to support his weight on either side of his body. `` There's something sweet about it, I mean when I think of America, I do n't think New York or L.A, I think of places like this that are small and close-knit and just...'' She could n't put her finger on the right word.
`` It's a good town.'' The Doctor said.
That was all he could say, that could do it justice.
`` It is.'' She smiled and leaned against him, her forehead brushing against the smooth black leather. `` I'm glad we can run to places like this together... I think it's even better with you.'' She said, the lack of sleep playing tricks on her mind, perhaps pushing past the usual barriers of typical conversation. The man looked down at the blond and a smile was already on his lips before he could even think about it. He moved his head and pressed his lips to her forehead while bringing up a hand to her back.
Rose looked to him but before she could say anything more, a cluster of people passed through the courtyard.
`` Woah, get a room you two!'' A well dressed dark skinned man grinned and threw them a wink while a large dark skinned woman gave them a knowing nod and pushed the man into the building. Bringing up the rear was a dark haired girl and a bushy haired male who were making small mumbles about how early it was and how Leslie had better have coffee waiting for them. The last one to pass by was an older man who ended up knocking over a trashcan while getting locked out of the building, as the young girl had locked the door behind her. Rose arched a brow and the Doctor got up and walked over. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and the glass door unlocked.
`` T-thank you.'' The man professed and hurried inside. The Doctor held the door open and motioned with his head for Rose to come along. The girl hopped down and ran over to him and ducked under his arm. The pair headed down the hall and found the closet where they left the TARDIS as they looked around, they spotted Leslie with the man in the suit, but also another female friend.
`` Ann, you flawless porcelain swan, you are my best friend and I love you.''
`` Leslie, we do n't have to go through this every morning.'' Ann began to say.
`` Come on, we're going to be late, everyone's already here.'' A man said.
`` Ben, I love you too, please do n't be jealous of Ann, she got to me first. And really? Everyone?''
`` Yes, come on.'' Ben smiled and motioned for the two women to hurry along. The Doctor and Rose quickly got into the cramped closet and paused, backs pressed against the walls.
`` I think I'm standing in a bucket... it's not empty.'' Rose said.
`` I'm pretty sure I accidentally head butted a spider's nest.'' The Doctor frowned as he opened the TARDIS and Rose hurried inside where she had room to breathe and actually move about. The Doctor followed after her and closed the door behind him. `` I'm going to miss this little town of Pawnee. I think I'll make note of it for the future.'' He said as he went up to where Rose was wringing out the bottom of her jeans.
`` Or the past.'' She spoke up, grinning at him. He sat beside her, his legs also dangling off the side of the thin metal flooring.
`` Or present.''
`` What d'ya mean?''
`` We could stay a bit longer, I do n't see a rush to leave, no one's chasing us out of town yet.'' The Doctor explained. She tilted her head and considered his words. He wanted to stay, it was so unlike him that it bothered her. Was he alright? As if reading her thoughts, he flashed her a smile. `` Do n't worry Rose, there's nothing wrong with me.'' He said and got to his feet and offered her his hand. She grabbed hold and he hoisted her to her feet, his arms slipping around her waist. Rose gave the time traveling alien a surprised look as music suddenly came on. `` I dunno why but this place makes me feel like dancing.'' He said.
`` I ca n't let you do that alone!'' Rose laughed as she slipped her arms up to his shoulders.
`` I would n't have it any other way, Rose.'' He said as he dipped her and then spun her around, one of his hands grabbing onto hers so he could pull her back into his arms.
`` Fantastic.'' She giggled and followed his lead, as usual. Yet this time, it was n't into the unknown, it was to a place they were both familiar with. Their quaint relationship was cozy and comforting but going to other places together gave them a thrill. The Doctor enjoyed Pawnee and it was thanks to Rose that he could slow down and stop focusing on the universe and the spin and rotation and everything else. Rose made him more human, made him want to care more than usual. And at this very moment in time, he cared quite deeply for the company he had, in such a place that seemed to welcome anyone and everyone, and that's what life should always be about: acceptance, exploration and waffles.
( 2/2 )
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[ WP ] Mars is actually the planet that was flooded by God in the bible . Noah got on a space ship and came to Earth .
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*knock knock*
The door opened slightly, the small chain keeping the door in place.
`` Hello! My name is John and I'd like to share a story with you. May I come in?''
The man at the door glances backwards, shrugs, and closes the door. The sound of metal sliding against metal echoes in the entryway, and the door opens. John steps through and makes his way to the living room where two men sit comfortably around the coffee table. The TV is off.
`` Hello gentlemen, my name is John, and I'd like to share with you a story that most do n't know.''
The third man plops down into a large arm-chair.
`` In the beginning, well, I suppose in the middle somewhere... Gosh, you know, I do n't usually make it this far in...''
John straightens his tie, coughs, clears his throat, and takes a deep breath. The three men siting near blink, but move very little.
`` A long time ago, a man named Moses.. Or was it Noah? I get the two confused. We'll call him Noah. So, Noah lived on a great red planet. His friend, God, who is known for some great things by the way, said,'hey Noah. Time to go. I've got a new spot for you.''
The doorbell rings. All four men look, one stands and answers.
`` Got a call that you boys lost power... Jesus, it smells like a Cyprus Hill concert in there.''
The door opens and the city repair man walks through the house, raising an eyebrow at John. Judgement. He disappears into the garage.
John clears his throat again as the third man sits back down. ``... as I was saying, so Noah took a Rocket Ship to Earth and something happened to Mars. Hey, you got any more of the pizza left?''
The three men snicker at John. The one in the bean bag chair reaches over and hands John the closed Pizza Hutt box. John greedily opens it and takes a bite. One chew.. Two.. The TV blinks back on..
`` NEXT ON AQUA TEEN''
John blinks, smiles, and lays the Book of Mormon down long enough to reach for the half empty glass of soda on the table.
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[ WP ] A parent and young child are having a conversation . The parent keeps answering the child when they ask `` why ? '' until things spiral out of control
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Today was the day. He knew it was coming. Every parent expects it, and every parent dreads it. The day that their young child starts to question everything. Just yesterday, Kalee, Adam Johnson's 5-year-old daughter, asked: `` How come Mommy is n't here?'' Adam had stood there for a few seconds, staring dumbly, then gulped. Adam realized that she had probably been talking to some of the other kids in her kindergarten class and became curious. He nodded to himself, nothing could be done about innocent curiosity, then looked his beautiful little girl in the face and said, `` Ask Daddy tomorrow, okay?'' He knew he was being immature, but he needed to prepare himself a bit. She had nodded, and sort of forgot about it ( like all young children, Kalee's attention span was small ), or so he hoped. That night he had written a list of questions she would most likely ask. He found himself writing a small story of his and his wife's short time together ( to him 7 years was short, far too short ). He wrote about his wife's car crash, a mere two years after having given birth to Kalee. He wrote things of that nature, and when it seemed like he was prepared enough, he went to sleep. Little did he know, he was not prepared at all.
The next day, after he picked her up from school, they walked into their home together and Adam asked his daughter to sit on the couch with him. She nodded and sat down a cushion away from him.
Adam started: `` Do you remember what we talked about yesterday, sweetie?''
She nodded vigorously, her blonde ponytail bouncing with her apparent excitement. `` I asked about Mommy.''
Her father smiled. `` So, do you remember what you asked?''
`` Yea,'' Kalee responded. `` I asked'How come Mommy is n't here?'''
`` Mh-hmm,'' Adam agreed. `` And would you like to know the answer?''
`` Sure,'' she answered calmly.
`` Well, honey, your Mom died in a car accident, and she went to heaven,'' he said bluntly, barely able to hide his wince at his matter-of-fact tone.
Kalee nodded, like she expected the answer, then said: `` Why?''
He blinked and stared at her until she twisted her head in confusion. Adam cleared his throat and looked down at the sweat-soaked piece of loose-leaf in his hand. It was useless, the paper could n't help him now. He had n't thought to write why it happened, because, well, *he did n't know*.
`` Um,'' the father started nervously. `` I ca n't answer that for sure, Kay, but... but bad things happen.'' Her face scrunched up and she looked a little confused. `` But good things happen as well. I mean, you're here, are n't you? And in my book that's an amazing thing.'' He finished with a smile.
`` Yeah,'' she responded with a smile of her own, but then the smile turned confused. `` Daddy... why *am* I here?''
His smile dropped. There were several ways he could answer this. None of which he was willing to tell his daughter. `` Um, sometimes when a man and a woman love each other, a stork delivers them a baby.''
`` Why?'' Kalee asked, with a confused blink.
`` So they can care for it'' was his prompt reply.
`` But, why though?''
His daughter was unrelenting. He felt like he was being attacked by `` why'' s. He took a calming breath. Ever since Edy's death, Adam found he was easily susceptible to panic attacks. `` To... to propagate the human race,'' he finally said.
She nodded like she understood and he sighed a breath of pure relief. `` Why?'' His sweat dropped and he felt faint.
He again took in a breath and tried to think on the question. He found no answer coming to him, so he looked his daughter in the eyes and, with a grin, said: `` I do n't know baby, I do n't know.''
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[ WP ] Your helicopter dad only lets you go to the movies if you can write a review that connects the film to conservative Christian values .
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Transformers: Age of Extinction.
By Galaxy Bethlehem Jones, 14
This Transformer movie is about Cade Yaeger; a friendly, American christian man who objects his daughter sinning with her betrothed ( and totally not her boyfriend ). He buys a damaged Optimus Prime, the Messiah of the Transformers. When Optimus is actived, other Americans of questionable ethnic origin who pray to the devil attack Optimus and Cade. The leader of these devilworshippers is, in the long line, Lockdown, who is similiar to Samael. Satan is also hidden in this movie as Galvatron, a fallen transformer demon who influences several devil-made Transformers into his servitude by seducing them with sin. Optimus must gather his disciples to combat the evil demons forged from the flesh of his kind to promote abstinence and the American way. You can tell because Optimus Prime is covered in red, white and blue, and God loves America, and because this movie is as American as can be, He must love it, and thus approve of it.
As in the bible, there is a large struggle in the books between good and bad, but good comes out victorious without human bloodshed. Optimus also defeats transformers who look like dinosaurs, proving that God's rightious divinity does not approve of dinosaurs because they do not exist, of course. The sinners are destroyed, families are reunited and helped by those with good intentions and good hearts. The Messiah goes back to the heavens ( like Jesus ) to seek peace for humanity and stop the evil overlord demons from harassing Americans.
God bless America. And God loves Transformers; Age of Extinction.
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[ WP ] A father and a daughter say goodbye to each other . Only one of them knows it 's for the last time .
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`` Hello, Little One. Your mother and I have been waiting for you for a long time. You have her nose. You have my eyes.
*__Beep_*
`` I knew you would be tiny, but this is surreal. Your little hands are so wrinkly. But your mommy says your legs are very strong. I guess it makes up for the weakness in your heart.
*__Beep*
`` We thought we would have more time with you but even this moment is worth all the time we've spent hoping and praying for you to be here.
*__Beep*
`` This moment is slipping by too fast but I will remember every second of it forever. I only wish this moment could last forever.
*__Beep*
`` I know you do n't understand what's going on, Baby Girl, but we have to let you go so that you can soar free. Your big brother is waiting for you up there.
*__Beep*
`` Do n't be scared. We love you so very, very much. We'll be together again one day, Little One. I love you. ``
*__________*
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[ WP ] God and Devil 's awkward conversation after a drunken one night stand .
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Lighting a cigarette on the back porch of the Universe, Lucifer -- formerly God's favorite angel, historically the Creator's greatest nemesis and latest- ( only? ) sexual conquest -- was unpleasantly surprised to learn he had the capacity for shame.
Given the number of serial philanderers, frat boys and 18-year-old Hollywood waitresses he had tempted to committing this very act, it should have occurred to him that this was a very bad idea.
It had started as a formal get-together. Two powerful beings to meet on Earth to review the state of it all. Lucifer always hated going, but The Creator would remind him that a failure to appear at these get-togethers would lead to the destruction of the Universe, with no more souls to fight between and therefore no more fun. Hell would simply become a bureaucratic shit hole with and endless supply of maintenance requests. Lucifer showed up five minutes early.
A trip to Earth always requires a corporeal form - walking never comes easy to a being who rarely operates with legs. During the five-minute walk to the bar, the Father-of-Lies had managed to trip twice and ram his crotch into the edge of table. Lucifer was still wincing, when SHE walked in.
He never understood why God would pick a female body, particularly one as striking as the one She had adopted. No respectable divine being should draw catcalls. Still, he could n't deny that Her form was beautiful, but it also stood to him as a sign of the ego that had driven him away in the first place.
And so a humiliating greeting was followed by an extremely awkward visit. She politely asked how things were going, he grumbled that as the only omniscient being in the entirety of existence She damn well knew, drinks were ordered and the fun really began.
Despite being alcohol's biggest endorser, Lucifer rarely had an opportunity to imbibe it. A round of Long Island Iced Teas for two spiritual beings in bodies who passed on appetizers and have never had a drink will inevitably lead to some terrible decisions, such as ordering three more rounds.
Properly lubricated, Lucifer steered the conversation toward the old grudges. Free will, Her endless love for all Her Earthly creations and Her capacity for forgiveness towards all things... except for him! She brought up his betrayal, his sadistic desire to drive souls away from Her and -- his most disgusting contribution to Her beautiful world -- reality television.
The conversation was cut short when a bouncer informed them that they would either have to quiet down or be thrown out of the bar. Sloppily, Lucifer stood up and tried to push the bouncer shouting, `` Do... *urp*... you know who I am..., Tiny?'' and was quickly grabbed by his jacket and thrown out the door.
She staggered out a moment later, presumably taking a moment to pay the tab since that's the kind of being She is, and stood over Lucifer as he propped himself against the wall of an alley. After a few minutes of silent swaying Lucifer said, `` At least You did n't use a bouncer.'' Much to his surprise they both laughed and She took his hand and sat next to him, quietly waiting for sobriety that would never come, at least not in these bodies.
What followed was a blur as they abandoned their corporeal forms, ascended and zipped to a region of the creation away from prying eyes above and below. What followed he had no conceptual basis for. It was another of Her little secrets. But for a moment of time between a nanosecond and eternity he felt... what? *Was this warmth? Intimacy?... Love? *
And when it was finally over all he could think to do was drift away and stare at a nearby nebula.
*What have I done? Why? How can I go back to my minions? Somehow word will get around. They'll know... What was I thinking?... What was She thinking? I'm her creation. Outside of Sodom, Gomorrah and Arkansas She would be locked up for what we just did. What does this mean? *
When it came to Her he was always uncertain. He took pride in being able to read anyone else, but not Her.
*How are you, Lucifer? *
*Do n't you know? *
*Sorry, It seems rude not to ask. *
*What happens now? *
*Nothing has to be sorted out tonight. Actually, it wo n't be sorted out tonight. *
*So, we go back to business as usual. Pretend this never happened? *
*If that is what you wish to do. *
*Then I think I should be going. *
*Until our next meeting then. *
*Er... right. See ya. *
Drifting back down to the depths of Hell in a daze Lucifer could n't see what lay in the future. Had tonight been the first step toward a reconciliation or a necessary step to the end of all things? Could he ever go back? Could he ever be forgiven? She was right, it would n't be sorted out tonight. Likely, not for millenia. In the meantime he would keep the wheels of temptation and suffering turning.
Sitting at his desk Lucifer quickly pulled out a tablet and made a note.
*Tell underlings to find out who invented the Long Island Iced Tea and where we're keeping the bastard. *
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[ WP ] The main character meets the devil , and is surprised by what he/she meets .
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The air in the park became suffocatingly damp. Damp like sleeping with your head under the sheets, recycling your own breath. In the distance, a street light flickered and burned out. It was late night and there was little movement in this part of town.
He stepped onto the path and walked smartly into the darkness of the park. His footsteps, fueled by some inner rhythm, were the only sounds for what could have been miles. Wearing long, dark clothes, it was impossible to identify his features. The brim of his hat was wide, his face in total shadow.
Deep into the park he stopped to sit down at a nearby bench and pulled a long, silver lighter out of his coat pocket. It shimmered brilliantly in the moonlight. He flicked it open and as if placing it on an invisible shelf, he hung it in the air. By the small, fiery glow the man pulled from the same pocket a notebook and pen and proceeded to write. He could n't have written more than a few sentences when his head perked up like a cat catching a faint sound. He looked up the path and down. And suddenly, like he knew I had been there all along, his eyes locked with mine across the way. Shockingly blue, ice-cold eyes. The flame from the small lighter grew and grew until the entire bench was illuminated, no longer leaving any mystery as to the man's appearance. Handsome and fair with blonde hair pulled back underneath his hat, he removed his outer coat revealing a deep red blazer. He stretched out a slender hand towards me and smiled wide. Beneath two rows of pearly white teeth a thin, forked tongue darted in and out.
`` Join me.''
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[ IP ] Guardian of the marshlands
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Young Sven was looking out the forward bow through the murky bog that we were led through by the navigator. Supposed to be a shortcut we're heading through, heading to the wood elf capital, just through these marshlands. Nothing much is known about these marshlands, nor much about the wood elf capital.
So far from home, these are very foreign lands. Full of magic and surprises, we ’ ve just lost the Burlap, carrying 900 souls aboard, to a sea serpent that whipped up the river to sink only the Burlap.
Like all that before us have tried, no one could seem to successfully navigate these marshlands. They always end up back near the home shores. We picked up from their mistakes and took the foggy parts of the marshlands.
War Chief, Golem, called from his ship, stating to let him take the lead, my brother's never let his inheritance of lordship down, I am no qualifier for it by any means and he ’ s done a better job than most in the past could. He ’ s also not one to drop a good fight, if he thinks he can win. Even then, he and his guard have sacrificed their lives so the rest of the army could retreat. This is a grand flaw in him, but our family have done that type of thing for years.
His warship pulled ahead, which housed 1000 souls within its hold, to try and get a good view. Sven called out that the thick fog began to thin, and was quickly fading. Open sea again, at last.
Bells and chimes were rapidly getting louder on the other ships and Sven stood still. I asked him what was wrong.
“ G-G-Giant, s-s-sir… ” Sven spoke quietly.
I looked ahead and spoke none.
I could only hear the roar of the approaching Guardian of the wood elves, the Guardian of the Marshland.
A giant has blocked our path, it stood as tall as the mountains. Made from murky wood, Golem must think it can easily be beat.
Drums on his warship, Greadrap, pounded faster as his rowers moved with lightning speed and pomp. The beast ripped it straight of the water, but the elite fighters gripped into its skin, the younger warriors fell into the marshes below. They were to be the warriors to destroy this abomination, my ship called to the other ships following, we were to go around and keep course to the wood elf capital. We held vows to the Round Table of tribes, to capture the wood elf capital, and end the war that our people said there must be no end.
We watched behind us as the guardian fell into the water below. If the warriors live, we will save them on the way back. We once five thousand, now three thousand grand warriors were on their way to reach the seemingly unreachable, wood elven capital.
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[ WP ] You 're watching TV when your show is interrupted by a special broadcast from the President apologizing to the people in New York , Chicago , and other strategic sites in the US for not catching the nuclear missiles heading their way . You were n't supposed to be in NY , but right now you are .
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`` Mark, pass the Cheetos bro.. I can barely move''
As Clay laid on the couch in his best Stephen Hawking impression, he stretched his arm out towards his best friend as if he were on the ceiling of the sistine chapel.
`` Dude, they've been gone for the longest time now. We're out.'' Mark replied. A sudden rush of panic followed as the two stoners looked at each other for the first time in three hours. It had seemed like they were unaware of each others existence, or even their own for that matter.
`` So do we pause this, grab Cheetos? Or finish it and grab Cheetos?'' This was the first serious thought Clay had given all day. The two best friends were engulfed in a Lord of the Rings marathon. They were nearing the end of *The Two Towers*.
`` The trees are about to rip shit up, I say we wait it out.'' Mark advised.
`` Good call dude. Good call.''
At that moment, the screen went blue. The two friends stared blankly at the screen as if someone had just drop-kicked their brains. After a few seconds President Obama appeared on screen, with a very disturbed look on his face.
`` Dude, that's not Gandalf..'' Clay stated.
`` People of America. I am sorry. So very sorry, for that I have failed you. I've failed you in the worst way possible. The people of New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and Houston please listen closely. About 2 hours ago, we had learned that North Korea had launched several nuclear missiles that are headed for your cities. We have tried everything in our power to intercept them. We were unsuccessful. *sigh* People of America...''
**zzzzp** `` Sorry man I could n't listen to him talk about whatever it was anymore.. I totally zoned out. I guess the endings not that good anyway, it's really Return of the King we're waiting for anyway right? Lets just go grab the Cheetos now...''
`` I could n't agree with you more, I just fell asleep... what'd he say, something about South Korea and how they're intercepting stuff? Hmm.. I'm starving let's go..''
At that point the two walked out of their tiny New York apartment, on their way to buy Cheetos. That's when something in the sky caught their eyes.
`` Mark... how much did we smoke earlier?''
`` I do n't know man. It must've been some pretty bomb stuff. I keep hearing all this screaming.''
`` Is this.. middle-earth?''
**BOOM**
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[ CW ] The first letter of each sentence spells a message that contradicts the rest of the story .
|
I looked up at the calendar with the red heart circled over the 23rd day.
We met on that night two years ago when my ice cream spilled over his lap. Indeed, that was the most embarrassing way to meet for the first time. Still, how lucky I am to be with someone like him, and he in return. His deep tones in his voice left me yearning to hear more. How can anyone not know this feeling? Elated is not even the right word.
So I'm pondering what to get him. Two tickets to the movies? Or maybe surprise him by wearing that lingerie I bought. Perhaps he has something in mind. Planning this anniversary can be quite a fickle, indeed. Everything's got to go well. Do you think these sandals match my skirt? How should I style my hair? Ugh!!
Regardless, we're both happy. The love we have is unbreakable. I should stop worrying over these things. Nothing can stop us! Guess he should be back anytime now. Make up, peppermint breath, kissable lips, an excitable heart beat, check!
Everything's ready, my love.
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[ WP ] It 's 2:00 A.M . Suddenly , you 're waken up to see that an emergency broadcast has been aired . The message simply states `` RUN '' .
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**RUN**, it says, the TV lighting up your room.
That's odd. You've never owned a TV, never mind brought it into your bedroom, so what's going on?
Everything is still groggy and your thoughts are distant. There is a faint tickle of worry behind your eyes; it's much weaker than the confusion and indignation you feel at waking up to the repetitive, obnoxious alarm at two o'clock in the morning.
For a minute you lay there and hope it goes away on its own. It does n't, so you get up and shuffle over to turn it off.
Just as you go to unplug the TV, something shifts past your window. There's a small noise that follows it, so soft you ca n't hear it.
It's a silhouette that lasts hardly a moment in your vision, blocked by the pale, dime-cheap curtains - but that faint tickle erupts into a biting panic that locks up your limbs and sends your heart into a frenzy. This is the first time you've ever felt such a raw sense of terror.
Before you can think of what's happening, your body is moving away from the window, scrambling into the hallway. The slamming of the door rings in your ears. There are no windows, so it's entirely black, yet the absence of light is almost comforting. It's as if without light, without a way to see it, whatever was outside your window ca n't touch you.
You slide down until your knees hit the floor, breathing in so heavily you might pass out. *It's fine, you're okay, this is n't anything*, you think, trying to push away this strange occurrence. You end up laughing, sitting in your dark hallway and thinking you still might be sleeping.
In any case, you want to go back to sleep, so you stand up and reach for the doorknob -
*Whirr-click. *
This noise is inside your room. It is quiet, lasting half a second, but it may as well be the loudest thing you've ever heard.
*Whirr... **click***.
You're unable to move, unable to breathe. You can only stand there as the doorknob, inches from your fingertips, begins to rotate. Then you can only feel regret when the door opens.
Run. Run. RUN. **RUN**.
The word burns into your eyes. The low buzzing of the TV can be heard somewhere beyond the silhouette in your doorway. At some point the alarm stopped.
You turn. Your legs try to move. There's an ache in your head that tells you you're awake, and then that ache spreads from your head to your eyes to your body to the edges of your fingernails -
The silhouette moves.
*Click. *
In the silence of your room, the TV flickers and broadcasts a new message: **DO N'T LOOK**.
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[ WP ] She still continued to knock on my window even as the blizzard struck the city . `` Please let me in dear , it 's cold outside . ''
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I killed her so, I did -- she died,
And as the snow blew in, I heard `` it's cold outside'',
But colder in here, colder in here.
Colder by far in here, my dear.
..
The scratching at the window pane,
Driving me quickly insane,
It's darker in here, darker in here...
Darker by far in here, my dear.
..
Fingers of bone in blowing snow,
Howling aloud the cold wind blows,
Louder in here, louder in here,
Louder by far in here, my dear.
***
Rattling at the doorframe,
As a wind blows the fire,
It gutters, the flame,
And the snow blows ever higher.
I run to my closet,
I run to my bed,
And then I hear footsteps,
On the roof overhead.
The chimney is open,
Though the fire is gone.
I peek down the hallway,
Then slip slippers on.
Scuttling on cold brick,
A shadow on the hearth,
Churning, my stomach sick,
Will this stop my heart?
A groaning sigh ahead,
Something soot-black from the fire,
A thing reeking and dead.
In the cold I perspire,
Closing my bedroom door.
There comes rap-rap-rapping,
Bones rat-rat-rattling,
Heart tap-tap-tapping,
And a voice from the noir:
..
`` Please let me in dear, it's cold outside.''
Her voice steals my breath,
Radiating the cold from inside,
And I know she is death.
..
I am her lover, her partner in life.
Even though I killed her,
And chopped her up with my knife,
She came back, the dead of winter.
..
Opening the door, I embrace a shade,
Claws curling for my vitality,
She's ending this charade,
Of life in normality.
..
My mouth brought to her ragged lips,
Yellowed flesh peeled back,
We're brought into a final kiss,
My blue soul burned to black.
***
My mind slips away now in this white padded place,
Brought to bear by the memory of her face,
Louder in here, louder in here,
Louder by far in here, my dear.
..
Long shards of broken mirror in my fist,
The end one finds to a life like this.
Darker in here, darker in here,
Darker by far in here, my dear.
..
Red blood spraying, staining the whitewashed walls,
Hell may come, but it's an end to it all,
But it's colder in here, colder in here.
Colder by far in here, my dear.
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[ WP ] Scientists have figured out how to calculate the age of the universe , and how long it 's going to last . They have a horrifying discovery : the universe is going to implode in a week .
|
This is how it all went down for anyone who is curious. We have two days left until the universe implodes and I'm releasing my final journal entry online anonymously. Everyone agreed to keep what I am telling you all about a secret and vowed on their lives. I am pretty sure I would be killed if anyone found out I leaked this... Whether any of you all believe me or not, this is the end. Mind you, there are some edits for clarity and it is pretty dumbed down due to my weariness when writing it.
*Journal Entry - The End - September 15th, 2035*
We worked for days on end with sleepless nights. I'm pretty sure if most of us closed out eyes that we would pass out.
Our top most scientists across the world all came to the conclusion that an equation they crafted would be able to tell us the age of the universe and how long it will be alive for.
We had to create computer programs from scratch to aid in this. During this all, we fried and destroyed many computers. If only I could have seen it from the third person... Everyone was happy and delighted to work on this program.
When we finally got a model to work and put the system through a set of tests, we decided it was the time. One of us spoke up about what would happen. This would be akin to the firing of the first atomic bomb. Whatever we would find out would change the course of life as we knew it.
All of us were in agreement.
All of us knew the weight of what we were about to know.
It was decided that I would be the one to start the system up. I sat down in the chair and looked at the monitors.
A single green line in a prompt box was blinking at me. I remember a single bead of sweat falling down onto the Y key of the keyboard. I looked at the monitor and down at the keyboard.
Without second thought, I hit the key.
Everyone watched the various programs on the monitors before did their computing. Everyone was soo focused.
The first answer came out and listed the universe as 13,984,325,123.56 years old. Our approximations were close.
The system began to crack down on how long was left. Everyone was cheerful but soon focused back in.
It felt like what Robert Oppenheimer said after the first nuclear bomb went off when the system came to a halt for how long was left in the life of the universe.
To quote him, `` We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent'' ( Oppenheimer ).
Seven days and ticking downward was the answer.
Seven days until the universe imploded. Once everyone calmed down, we sat down in a circle and just gazed at one another. The silence at the point was deafening.
The first person who spoke up simply asked how we all were. No one answered.
The next person asked what we will do. Two people spoke up at this. One suggested going public and the other said secrecy. Soon enough, the whole room broke into heated argument.
Both sides were letting out valid points about which route to take but soon enough, secrecy began to take hold. Only two people were left on the public side. They sat down and attempted to peaceful reason but their side dwindled to one. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, the other had secretly been writing up a post to Facebook about the end of the world.
The leader of the secrecy side slammed the other against a wall and ripped his phone from his hand. They both remained silent as did everyone else. He let the public man drop to the floor.
The secrecy leader slammed the phone against a wall. The public man already had a backup plan and was went to a computer and was about to post it before anyone realized.
The leader grabbed the man and let loose a punch that shattered the others face and killed him instantly.
Once again everyone was silent and all agreed with our lives to not let anyone know. Panic would only make things worse.
We agreed to live out the rest of our lives...
How can you live when you know you only have a week left? How can one do that?
How?
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[ WP ] Both brothers stood over their sister Candice 's grave . Sad and angry , Phineas turned to his bother and said , `` Ferb , I know what we are going to do today ... ''
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Phineas turned his back on Candace's grave and began walking away. Ferb called out to him, `` What if we're wrong, Phineas?''
`` You know we're not,'' Phineas breathed through clenched teeth. `` Where's Perry?''
*****
For years, the boys had watched their imagination come to life, only to dissolve at the last moment. The moment just before their mother could look up or walk around the corner. It had always been harmless fun, an oddity they were comfortable with in the context of an endless summer. No harm, no foul. Tomorrow was another opportunity to do it all over again.
But this summer was different.
They could tell something was wrong from the very first day of summer this year. An enormous water slide had exploded just as their mother, Linda, was pulling into the driveway. But this time the explosion threw an errant screw at Ferb, cutting him across the cheek. The sound of Isabella's scream sent Linda racing into the backyard, first aid kit prepped and readied.
Ferb looked at his mother first. Then at Phineas. Then through him.
They both felt it. Fear.
The boys were accident-prone for the first time in their lives. Buford and Baljeet stopped coming over within the first week. Isabella stayed longer, but refused to come by after week four. It was just too dangerous. Candace was the only one who stayed to watch any more, caught between wanting to bust her brothers and wanting to know what was different.
No matter what they were doing, at some point, their contraptions would explode or misbehave or otherwise change in an attempt to kill one of the brothers. Quick thinking and engineering had saved their lives each and every day so far, though not without injury. They started to plan out their contraptions, testing for intent, attempting to discern who was behind the attacks. In the end, they could only come up with one suspect: Perry, their pet platypus.
Every day Perry would disappear for hours on end, only to reappear moments after the boys had cheated death once more. Yesterday, the boys had confronted Perry. They restrained him in an elaborate contraption and interrogated him for hours while their mother was out. Nothing. Every question, every accusation, nothing came from their platypus. The only movement he ever made was a glancing look of desperation towards a small fedora in the corner.
Exasperated, the boys released Perry from his bindings when they heard the garage door open and their mother arriving at home. Perry wasted no time and dove straight at Phineas, knocking him to the ground. The restraining device that had previously held Perry exploded, and a sharp metallic edge flew directly at the spot where Phineas had been a moment earlier.
Candace had been standing behind him.
Phineas and Ferb were sitting in Candace's room later that evening, their parents still speaking with police downstairs. `` Get out of here, Perry,'' scolded Phineas when he saw Perry peeking out from the hallway. `` I still know you're behind this somehow.''
His mind made up, Perry donned his fedora, stood up, and stepped into Candace's room, shutting the door behind him. He divulged everything.
Phineas, Ferb, and Perry stayed up all night, shooing their parents away when they tried to come in. Tomorrow would be different.
*****
The shadow of Perry's fedora could be seen from behind a nearby tree. Phineas started walking towards it, with Ferb close behind. Perry passed each of them their backpacks before dropping into a tunnel.
Phineas looked back at his brother with a hardened look in his eyes, `` Ferb, I know what we're going to do today.''
`` We're going to kill Doofenshmirtz,'' Ferb finished for him.
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