Split (3)

train · 273k rows

prompt stringlengths 5 331	story stringlengths 404 40.3k
[ WP ] POV of a dog during a home invasion .	`` Today was a good day!, Manbeast ( man I love that guy ) took me to the park ( man I love the park ) and I got to sniff some butts! ( man I love sniffing butts ) but now its time to sleep! yawn sniff sniff wait... whats that? was that manbeast? no, manbeast is behind me! ( man I love that guy ) Theres someone else here! I have to protect manbeast! Hey! hey you! You! Hey! grrrrrr Get out of here strange manbeast! I wo n't let you harm manbeast I know you are afraid! I smell it on you! Get out of here! grrrr bark bark thats right! get out of here! climb over that giant wallfencething and do n't come back! bark bark grrrrrr Hey manbeast! I stopped a strange manbeast from taking that strange stuff you like! No one is going to take stuff from you while im around! arf wag wag WHAT?!? IM A GOOD BOY?! THATS AMAZING! THANK YOU MANBEAST! ( man I love that guy )
[ WP ] All voting is now done via a smartphone app , rendering all congressmen obsolete . Bills and presidents are now voted on directly by citizens . Your phone buzzes an alert at 3am and wo n't stop . This must be an important one .	* Patriotic - loving American - super-freedom of speech house bill ( 1072B ) Do you love America? Do you stand for Freedom? Do you think free speech should only be for those people who are citizen or who are n't idiots? Do you hate those annoying emails and social stories from crack pots accusing AT & T, SPRINT, and VERIZON of voter fraud? Help us make America great again by allowing telephone carriers to screen, for your convenience, news and messages to weed out crazies and those who want to hurt America. Briefly summarized in the following [ 19,207 ] pages This new law makes America better. By law 905K a non-answer will be voted by proxie by your carrier who knows your preferences. Voting deadline 4:00 AM Eastern Standard Time. Remember you must read ( or scroll through ) the law's text before voting as stated in law 857J, only informed voters may vote. Average expected time to read ( 17 days, 3 hours. )
[ WP ] Write something that starts as a children 's story but gradually becomes more and more mature .	He was a goober, so they would say. A smile and wave, and then he would play. He lived in a house, bright as the sun. Walls made of chuckles, grins, and fun. Oh, how he danced and made plenty of merry. All of his friends were with him, eyes all teary. `` We'll always have each other,'' he told them one night. `` I'll remember this day, the sounds and the sight.'' He smiled so fondly as he took them outside. There was a hole, just a few feet wide. `` Goodbye my friends,'' and he tossed them inside. A tear slid down his cheek as he covered them with dirt. Now it was time to find new friends to hurt.
[ WP ] In the future , the world 's youth is being Rickrolled at an astounding rate . The U.N. decides to ban Rickrolling and it is now punishable by death . You 're a serial Rickroller .	Slightly based on a true story, but mostly fictional. The Rickrollvoloution I have been kept in the darkness for so long. Minutes, hours and days all feel the same now. I rest my head against a cold wall and ask, `` Why am I here?'' The voice of a young but weathered soul begins to speak, `` Because... We're no strangers to love.'' Suddenly, a chorus of voices chimed in, singing the outlawed words of the infamous song. Roars of footsteps can be heard echoing through the hallways, a prison guard slams into the door with all his force, opening it and sending a blinding light through the bars of my prison cell. The voices drop off as the guard paces around the room angrily. He stops when there is complete silence and somehow gives every single one of us a death glare simultaneously. He states, `` The next one of you worthless convicts to utter the ode of that ginger Brit get the chair!'' My story begins in the era known as The Resurgence of Astley. At the time I was a high school student, and I found the meme to be hilarious. I went around various internet forums saying that I had the latest leaks of the next big blockbuster, but the users would fall victim to Astley. I had so much fun doing this, I would kick back with my feet up and watch as the hate-mail hit my inbox like a hurricane. But it soon got out of hand. I was Rickrolling my friends and family over facebook, almost to psychopathic degrees. Soon after, every 3 out of 5 links on the internet were addressed to Rick Astley's Never Gon na Give You Up. The United Nations had enough of the madness. After months of innocent people being Rickrolled, the meme had been outlawed. But that never stopped me. I used throwaway accounts like I use toliet paper. They could n't track me, I was invincible. But the more I had indulged in the new found sin, the more the hunger grew. I needed bigger game. Cut to a few days before the school's annual Christmas concert. Talented students would go on stage and perform, whether it be stand up comedy, singing, dancing, etcetera. Months earlier I agreed to sing Silent Night with a few friends, but the darkness had persuaded me to do otherwise. I no longer saw audience members as fellow students, but rather as prey. The next few nights I would go to bed with headphones and a devilish smile, listening to Rick Astley, and seeing him in my dreams. `` Do it.'' Rick Astley demands. Upset, I yell, `` But I ca n't!'' Rick Astley looks down in disappointment, and he hushly says, `` I'm never gon na give you up,'' I stare at Astley in awe, admiring his determination, and I assure him, `` I'm never gon na let you down.'' I wake up. Today is the day. For the Christmas concert we had to hook up our phones to the sound system and play the song that we would sing to. Luckily, that was my responsibility in my group and I switched the name of `` Never Gon na Give You Up'' to `` Silent Night.'' I now had two songs on my phone called Silent Night, but I simply explained this by saying that one was a karaoke version. For practice I played the real song, but for the actual show I had instructed the sound guy to use the `` karaoke'' version. The time had come, and my group wandered on stage, most of them nervous, I think I would have been too, but I was too focused on the success of my plan. That familiar beat started up and the room filled with disgust. My friends looked at me as though I were a serial killer, covered in blood. The cops were called and I was arrested. And so here I am, in my cell, looking down at the prison guard. Desiring one last Rickroll to silence my hunger, I say full of spite `` I'm never gon na give you up.'' The guard points at me and says, `` You're next.'' I am strapped into the chair and a helmet is placed onto my head. What have I done. `` Please, please, you ca n't do this! Let me go, I swear I'll never Rickroll again!'' My eyes tear up and the only feeling I have is regret. The executioner looks at me and says, `` You know the rules, and so do I.''
[ WP ] It 's 2017 and reports are coming in about a huge number of radar and sonar contacts coming from the Bermuda Triangle	Fearing an imminent attack on the United States mainland, the Pentagon goes to Defcon 2. Jets are scrambled from Patrick and MacDill Air Force bases. The pilots are flying SR-71 Blackbirds and they information they collect is being sent directly to the Whitehouse situation room. The images show a much larger mass of aircraft and boats than anticipated, but something is wrong. None of the ships are modern, none of the aircraft are modern either. As hard as it is to believe, some of the ship designs seem to be from the 1800's and some even earlier. There are also a lot of smaller sailboats in the armada. There are some unconfirmed reports that the missing aircraft from Flight 19 are among the inbound armada. As a precaution, the threat level is left at Defcon 2, but this seems to be some sort of elaborate hoax. The boats are intercepted by the coast guard prior to making landfall. The inbound aircraft are escorted to an airfield which is in lockdown mode. Among the planes that land are five TBF Avengers in near mint condition. The planes were surrounded and the crew taken into custody. For a significant period of time, believing they were prisoners of war, the airmen would not give any information except for their names, ranks and serial numbers. Checks of the names and all available records corresponded with the missing crew in every detail, except that the planes and crew had been missing since 1945, and not one of the crew members seemed to be older than 25. While the people on the ships and sailboats were gradually allowed to disembark in Florida, they were quarintined so that they could be questioned. Each was asked what year they believed it to be, and there were different answes ranging from 1801 to 1965. Except for their time references, everyone seemed to be lucid. An inventory of the ships, sailboats and planes was compiled, and to everyone's astonishment it matched almost exactly with the list of planes, ships and sailboats that went missing in the Bermuda Triangle. Still operating on the premise that this had to be some elaborate hoax, the detainees were moved to a disused military base. After much checking the idea that this was not a hoax was becoming more and more plausible. Meanwhile at the Whitehouse situation room, a call is received from Cern. After hearing about the Bermuda Triangle incident, the staff at the Large Hadron Collider ( LHC ) explained that they had been running an experiment to try to create a blackhole. All of their readings indicated that they had been successful, but a containment subsystem had failed. The belief was that the blackhole collapsed as soon as it escaped containment, but on further review, the time of the experiment and the time of the Bermuda Triangle incident matched down to the millisecond. Although the ground based monitorin was not that precise, the sattelite monitoring which first detected the armada was very precise. From the perspective of those who returned, little or no time had passed for them from when they disappeared to when they reappeared. Gradually everyone managed to reintegrate into the 21st century society, and since that time, there have been no disappearances in the Bermuda Triangle explained or not.
[ WP ] You are subjected to your greatest fear .	Everything seems a bit warmer when death is lurking. The blankets are softer and the mattress molds perfectly to my withered body. It ’ s quiet. I use to long for peace like this. To think about my dreams, and work on writing my way to a place next to literary mammoths I idolized. That was my endeavor, and I found peace in quite. It ’ s ironic, though, how on my deathbed that ’ s what I ’ ve been given, yet I long to be disturbed by a friend or relative. I look to the foot of my bed. Machines beep and pumps inhale and exhale composing a morbid tune. In the TV mounted on the hospital wall is my reflection. The skin on my face droops, and each fold lies over another. My life has passed and I feel that it hardly begun. I close my eyes so I don ’ t stare at the wasting old fool in the TV. I begin to slip from conciseness and am taken back to places I ’ ve been and people I ’ ve met. They made me so happy. But, in my youth, all I wanted was to be somebody important. I worked countless hours to achieve greatness in my craft, and the people I cared for often came second to that. I never treated anyone bad, but I never kept anyone close, either. I was drunk on the idea that I could attain something great. Every time I took a step towards this elusive greatness, the horizon receded two. I was suddenly broken from my thoughts. The nurse came in to make sure the mechanical symphony was still on beat. She looks at the pump and jots something on her clipboard, then turns to something else and fiddles with the dials. I stare at her. I follow her moves and hopes she might stay for a while. She asks if everything is fine and I nod my head to indicate that it is. She leaves and my eyes swell. I spent my life chasing a spot in history only to fall short. And worse yet, I let go of all my relationships for this fabled goal. I begin to drift again. Staying awake is becoming too difficult, so I drift. I imagine all that I could have had. The people I could have spent my life with. I smile. Tears slowly find their way down my cheek. It ’ s getting difficult to stay awake, so I drift.
[ CW ] Get me hooked . Reel me in . You may write about anything , but there must be no true beginning or conclusion . Pluck your story from the middle of your `` book '' , without any context as to what may be happening .	An excerpt from a piece I wrote a few years ago: And then there were the days in which Gabriel came. Gabriel O ’ Neill was the other salesman. It always confused Steven why another salesman was necessary. No one ever came into the dealership, why pay for an extra head? Gabriel was as stuck up as they come. Simply because he had made the only sale in the dealership ’ s history he felt that he was a superhuman being and entitled to that respect. The one sale he had made was to an individual named Neill O ’ Gabriel, which Steven was skeptical about but never questioned. He was too focused on his own issues to be concerned with someone else ’ s cheap buy into the top ranks. The car that Mr. O ’ Gabriel purchased was a hot red Ferrari, one of the dealership ’ s most expensive cars. It never moved from its place. In fact, it was the car that Joe woke up in. Today happened to be one of those days. After endless hours of sitting, Steven heard a door slam open and around the corner walked none other than Gabriel. He walked over to Steven ’ s desk in a most ostentatious fashion, as he often did, and once he arrived he threw his coat over the half wall and hung himself over next to it, glaring down at Steven. Then came the inevitable question: “ Did you make that sale yet? ” Months earlier, when Gabriel had made his sale, he made no effort to restrain himself from thrusting it vaingloriously into Steven ’ s affairs. Steven did not take it to heart; he was not competitive and he could at least see the absurdity of selling cars in the desert. Naturally, this did not sit well with Gabriel, so he decided to watch Steven to find a weakness he could exploit so that he too could appreciate the greatness that is Gabriel O ’ Neill. While sitting in the break room one day, he saw Steven eating his ramen, alone and solitary. One of Joe ’ s bandmates was also at the table, also eating ramen. Steven went to throw the remainder of his meal away when the brutish rocker said, “ I ’ ll bet you couldn ’ t eat another. ” Such a trifle it was, but Steven could not resist a challenge, and so he downed another bowl. This was when Gabriel learned that while Steven may not be competitive, he was not to be proven weak. So the next time Gabriel was vaunting his success to Steven and Steven wasn ’ t listening, Gabriel took it one step further. “ Steve, I ’ ll bet you could live here and still not get a single sale. ” Today, Steven sleeps in the office and sits at his desk every day waiting for a buyer.
[ IP ] Lovers on a Bridge	I sat across the river from a bridge, as I normally do, that evening. I saw for the fifth time two people, a man and a woman, stand close together, their umbrellas overlapping to give them a shared spot in the universe together out of the cold rain. He was taller and wore a darker suit, while she was of average height and wore a grey business suit. I wondered then, as I often do, what the two were doing there, meeting on a secluded bridge far outside the city limits, so I added to my story. I like making stories for the people who meet on the bridge, it occupies my time more than anything else, and I'd been working on their's for over a week now. Initially I thought them siblings and tourists, out to see the sights of the Japanese countryside, but that would n't do. They were too dressed up, either for each other or for work, so next I decided them to be an office romance, here temporarily from overseas. Even from across the river I could see, while both looked business appropriate, the man's cloths were more subdued while her's positively demanded your attention. Perhaps they were partners, but I thought it more probable that he was her assistant, a secretary of sorts, while she was some sort of higher up professional. This also had to do with the way she walked onto the bridge, like she owned the entire world, like the very act of her being there was a defiant act of self empowerment. Perhaps she was married, and this was not just an office romance but and affair as well. The man strutted out on that day as though he were the luckiest man on the face of the planet. Bright red flowers were barely visible in his hand as he came from his side to meet his lover on the bridge. As much as I wanted to feel scorn for the deed they were committing, at least in my tale, I could never get over his cheery steps, how happy he seemed to be alive. So the happiest man in the world waited for the professional on the bridge, as he had so many times. The professional, however, was much less routine in her walk. She was slower, less confident than usual. She stepped as though she were dragging something behind her. Guilt would be the most likely culprit. It always is. The man stood and jutted out his flowers for the oncoming businesswoman, but she did n't receive them with her usual enthusiasm. Their umbrellas did n't crossover for the first time in the five times I've seen them. She stood off from him, as though his very gaze cut into her. There was talking, I could n't hear what over the sound of the waves and through the distance, but it lasted much shorter than their usual loving conversations. Then she said something, something I could only guess at, which stunned the happiest man in the world. His umbrella fell along with his flowers, and the professional backed further off. He stood there for a moment, soaking in the rain. She, well I think she called it off. The affair must have ended on that very bridge. Eventually the happiest man in the world recovered, picked up his umbrella, and began to slog off, back to his side off the bridge. The professional tried to reach out, but she saw it was too late, so she too turned and walked away from the bridge. The local of such budding romance not a week earlier took on a much more gray hue than I had ever seen it, as all the joy seemed to drain from it, as the backlash of consequence set in. Neither party picked up the flowers. Both of them abandoned them to a cruel and unforgiving rainstorm, which sullenly, almost reluctantly, whipped up winds strong enough to roll them into the river, passing the beautiful flowers downstream. It was n't until they passed me that I was able to get a decent look at them, and the all too obvious thorns that adorned their stems.
[ WP ] An alien race miscalculates how long it will take to reach earth and instead of arriving during the bronze age they arrive in the year 2015 .	I did a different [ prompt ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wipev/wp_your_writing_prompt_becomes_popular_until_its/ ) but used your idea to start it- so I wanted to share it here too. The alien Programmed the space ship to arrive on earth, [ 1852 B.C ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2whn4k/wp_an_alien_race_miscalculates_how_long_it_will/ ) to meet a new ruler named Megum, an Ensi ( governor ) for Ur III during the reign of Amar-Sin of Ur. The alien race wanted to trade for copper-tin ores, and bananas. It miscalculated and the ship appeared over modern day Berlin, Germany. The green slimy creature pushed a big red button, and all of [ humanity ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2whkm7/wp_all_of_humanity_is_suddenly_gone/ ) was suddenly gone! The Spaceship teleported to [ Lake superior ] ( http: //i.imgur.com/NmbpxrG.jpg ) and flew low over the amazing frozen landscape. It pushed another button, and immediately a new, [ non-primate species ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wiltt/wp_a_new_nonprimate_species_suddenly_evolves_to/ ) suddenly evolved to sapience and began forming primitive communities. One of the first communities to form was a Group of [ Disney princesses ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wiqhc/wp_disney_princesses_live_in_a_house_together_for/ ) living in a house together for a'Bad girls club' style reality show. The tentacled monstrosity landed the craft, and knocked on the door, thinking of the [ filthiest ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wigu8/cwnsfwwrite_the_filthiest_possible_one_line/ ) possible one line pickup line it could, hoping to impregnate one of them. Princess jasmine opened the door seductively. Suddenly nervous, the space beast clumsily [ Freestyled about getting clean ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wiiap/wpfreestyle_about_getting_clean/ ). She closed the door saying sorry, we're not interested today. Ashamed and angry, the monster returned and smashed reality changing buttons randomly. Instantly [ Bruce Jenner was sued ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wijp9/wp_bruce_jenner_is_sued_for_everything_he_has/ ), [ Deadshot ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wihhr/eu_deadshot_instead_of_using_a_gun_is_actually_a/ ) was a Rube Goldberg machine, Every spell had a [ proportional cost ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wiurt/wpevery_spell_has_a_proportional_cost_in_life/ ), and The Sun [ exploded ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2wiuq0/the_sun_exploded_and_you_are_the_only_person_on/ ). The End.
[ WP ] When you were a child , you saw your parent ( s ) get killed by a delusional man who claimed he was a time traveler . You thought he was just crazy , but as years pass and you grow older , your best friend starts to look eerily similar to your parent ( s ) killer .	Those cold eyes. The stain on that shirt. The vacancy in my parents eyes. All of them flashed before me as I whirled in my deep dark memories. I felt trapped. The heart I had shattered into millions of pieces, like tiny glass. And all I knew was he was a time traveler. With a sharp gasp, I bolted right out of bed. Of course I'd have that dream again. My therapist told me to stop trying to deny that memory and just let it in. Well, every time I try to accept that horrible accident, I relive it in my dreams. Cold sweat trickled down my cheeks as I sat in my bed, struggling to keep a steady breathing pace. I needed help. I was feeling myself fall apart. `` Jay?'' I called out. I waited in silence for a few moments. I needed to see him; he always knew how to calm me down. `` Jay?'' I called once more, lunging from my bed. He's usually up by now. I tip toed towards my door and flung it open. No one was in the main room. Odd. `` Jay, Jay, hey?'' I continued, looking around our bright room. He was n't here. `` Are you here?!'' Almost like magic, the front door flung open. There he was, my Jay. He'd been my best friend for about two years now. I've seen him go through many phases. One month, he was a punk rocker. The next, he was a jock. Jay never really had one specific style. But today, something was different. He did n't wear any plaid, which has been his new thing. He looked, normal. His shaggy brown hair touched his eyebrows that rested over his jet black eyes. They were, colder than usual. `` Jay..?'' A chill crawled down my neck when I got a deep look into his eyes. Those dark... chilling eyes... They are a killer's eyes. `` Hey, Jay.'' My voice began to crack. Was it due to not having enough water? Or, was I still freaking out from my dream? `` You alright? There's something odd about you today.'' His eyes rolled to the side for a moment as his lower lip pouted out. `` I can see it in your face, man. What's up?'' He slid inside the apartment and shut the door behind him. Jay kept his eyes off me, just staring at the wall. `` I'm just did n't sleep well, Misty.'' Without another word, he walked passed me. This was unusual behavior. Did n't he see I was freaking out? I turned to prepare a snide comment, but that's when I saw it. The unique stain on the back of his shirt. It was dark, like a wild stallion. The splats were uneven, almost like an artist got scared and flung his paint brush randomly. I've seen that stain before. I saw it last night even, in my dream. My parent's killer wore that shirt. It was stained with their blood as he shot them point blank. He left only me a live to wallow in their deaths. The killer was never found and no one believed me when the man said he was from the future. I figured, over time and with the aid of my therapist, I had made up the story about the time traveler to conceal the feelings I had about the killer never being found. But, was I really all that insane? `` Jay!'' I shouted. He turned his head to glance over at me. `` Where... where did you get that shirt?'' I stuttered, my arm wobbled as it rose to point at his shirt. His eyes did n't change as I stared in disbelief. `` Jay. Where. Did. You. Get. That.'' I repeated, taking a step closer to him to grab his shirt. It looked just like the blood. The blood I so vividly remember. He said not a word for a moment. His eyes said everything I needed to know. The flash of shame. The flash of anger. The flash of fear. `` Misty. I...'' He grumbled. My hand curled open as I slid back. `` You. You know the story about my parents... right?'' I continued, my hands quivering like a fly escaping a fly swatter. `` That... that shirt.'' My hands rose to my face as they became all I focused at. `` That was the shirt the killer wore.'' I took a deep breath as my heart began to jump from my chest. The chills continued to dance down my spine as my body froze. `` That stain. That stain.'' I repeated, over and over. I wanted to deny it, hope that he just found it in the trash or something. But his eyes kept popping up in my mind. Those cold, dark, empty eyes. I ca n't believe that I never saw it before. Those eyes. That hair style. Those wide shoulders. His raspy voice. `` You, you, you...'' I slowly rose my eyes to meet his. `` You did it, did n't you?'' Jay stood still. `` I do n't know what you are talking about.'' He stated, his voice dull as a sheet of paper. `` Let's just get back to bed.'' He finally moved and turned towards me. His arm reached out to me. `` NO!'' I screamed, swatting his hand away from me. `` How, how dare you!?'' I screamed, water streaming down my eyes. `` You-I-My parents-Shirt-Blood-Gun-'' I stuttered, my eye brows bending down. `` HOW?!'' I screamed once more. `` HOW?!'' He stood still, his arm still reached out to me. `` You would n't understand.'' `` Oh ho ho, I would n't understand?'' I continued to yell, my hands falling down to my side. `` I would n't understand you? Hahahaha!'' I could n't help but laugh. It was a pathetic laugh, full of crying and my pent up rage. `` You better start talking!'' I demanded. Jay softly sighed. `` Fine. You trusted me when I said I was a time traveler, right?'' His arm finally dropped to the side gently. `` I had no choice. The you I knew before was broken. Her family had put so much pressure onto her and begging her to be'perfection'.'' He paused to glance downwards. `` She spiraled into depression, drugs, booze, men. I wanted to save her from the path she was going down. I knew that it would be the end of her. I tried getting her help. I did everything I could.'' His voice drifted away from me as he explained. `` One night, she jumped off a building, ending her own life. My best friend died before me. I was just about ready to snap. A man come up to me with a choice. I can go back in time.'' I stopped breathing. If what he was implying was true... then I died? `` J-Jay.'' I cried, my knees finally caving in. They crashed onto the ground as all my life seemed to slip from my very bones. `` I made that choice. I went back enough so that I could save you before your parents destroyed you. I wanted to save you.'' Jay sighed. `` I never wanted you to find out, but I was n't expecting you to remember. I thought you'd be asleep. Even if you were awake, I was hoping you would n't see my shirt turned around.'' `` WHAT?'' I shouted. `` Expecting me to remember?! BULL SHIT.'' My mind was racing as my mind tried to piece this together. Was he really saying the truth? Or was he just saying what he thought I wanted to hear? `` That shirt. Why do you have it? Why did you think I was n't going to remember?!'' Jay opened his mouth to speak, but I continued to speak. `` Jay, how could you?! I LOVED my parents! Did you have to kill them?! Why could n't you just warn them, huh?! You could have said that you knew that they were going to do shit and then told them what not to do! Instead, you blasted a bullet into their chests. Killing them in front of me. You left the case unanswered. You left an empty hole in my heart. You think you saved me?'' With much struggle, I pulled myself up from the ground. `` You did n't save me!! You ruined everything!!'' Jay reached to his pocket. `` I ca n't believe I made such an easy mistake. Why did I come back now.'' He grumbled, gripping something in his pocket. `` Well, I wo n't be making that mistake again.'' He slowly pulled out a dull metal item in an L shape. I had only seen it once, besides on TV; a gun. `` Misty, goodbye, for now.'' The barrel rose to my stomach. A green glow hummed from behind the gun. Was this really happening? Was Jay, my best friend, my parent's killer, pointing a gun at me? `` I hope I can make things right again.'' `` Jay... What are you --'' his finger pulled back. An echoing bang filled the hallway and for a moment, time stood still. I could see the smoke dancing from the barrel. I could see the bullet slowly defying gravity to smash into my flesh. Jay's cold eyes were staring right at me. That ominous green glow from behind the gun. Was this happening? Was I going to die? The last thing I remember was the feeling of my limp body crashing into the ground, losing all it's life. And all I could hear as my vision faded to black was `` I am sorry.'' Note: This was my first piece since getting off a writer's block. It's not the best, but hey, least I'm writing!
[ WP ] A monstrously deformed 5th Ninja Turtle approaches . 'What are you doing out of your cage Picasso ? '	Splinter gasped in disbelief. He never fathomed that the bizarro mutated turtle would ever manage to escape from his captivity. Splinter kept the secret for so long that he had almost forgotten about Picasso himself. `` Ah! Uhm...'' Splinter began, though he was at a loss for words. The abominable turtle was an utterly atrocious sight, and it left everyone in the room speechless, with their mouths agape. The turtles were in awe, in part because they had no idea who or what the fuck the mutant was. They shot a confused look at Splinter in the hopes of getting an explanation. Splinter noticed the other turtles, and quickly turned to the long lost sibling. `` What are you doing out of your cage Picasso? I- I do n't really know what to say...'' The room fell silent for what seemed like hours. Finally, the abomination's mouth began to open, and with it came the sounds of stitches being torn apart. Suddenly, the beast stopped attempting to speak for the moment, looking up as if it was beginning to recall something. Splinter began to fear for what was about to ensue, for he did not know what the many years of captivity and isolation had done to this poor, awful creature. Splinter started recounting scenes from long ago, in which he made the decision to keep Picasso as a courtesy to it's creator, though Splinter became strangely fond of it. He had hoped the creature would remember the good that Splinter did, for there were not nearly enough good memories to overshadow the abuse and neglect that he had received for the past decades. Picasso startled the others by shambling towards the fridge and then staring at it in an odd way. He smacked his head on a fridge magnet in the shape of a pizza. He then looked back at the others and uttered `` Where's the pizza at, bros?''
[ WP ] : a very powerful reality-warping entity is in love with you . While the poor thing does its best to shower you with gifts and favours , it does not quite understand what humans actually like	`` I told you so,'' he screamed at his lover. `` What,'' she asked him. `` I told you that I want a salary raise and proper benefits at work. What will happen to me after I've retired,'' he asked anxiously. `` But you are only thirty years old love, why concern yourself with these matters? Ca n't you find something better to put your energy into... like me,'' she responded with a hint of seduction. Later that evening she reminded him of the fun and loving times they had shared together. These were days of laughter during which all anxious and negative self-talk melted away to be replaced by something so much better. Life just seemed to flow better during these times spent in her intense presence. But barely has he grasped this magical feeling when he finds himself belittling her again. Being who she was she held him tightly as he drifted into his dreams.
[ WP ] God just realized that all of your prayers since you were a child have been getting caught in his spam filter . After forty years , he starts granting each of them , starting with the first .	It started with a great wave of guilt being lifted off of me. `` God, please forgive me of my sins''. That was where my life started to change for the better. I remember very few prayers from my days, but all of them started to come true. When I was a young kid, I would pray when I was asleep, and nkne of them would ever get answered `` God, please bring me a wife'' or `` God, I want enough money to waste on stuff I do n't need.'' `` God, make me strong enough to stop daddy from hurting mommy'' Well, I guess it was n't God answering prayers, I learned no one is perfect and not to regret what I've done. And as for the rest of those prayers, well I guess that growing up was my answer.
[ IP ] The Helix Nebula , also known as the Eye of God , has just blinked .	This was it, the threshold. The Helix Nebula, commonly known as'The Eye of God'. The name was a relic of a long dead culture on Earth. I thought back to the Cosmodrome from which millions of explorers such as myself had been sent into the deepest reaches of space, most of whom would never return. I remembered what the Great Researchers had told us Forward, brothers, the sky is red they had shouted into the legions of men with great thunderous voices. This was the threshold of something more, something greater than everything we could have imagined. The Eye of God lay before me, despite being nothing but a nebula one could almost feel it piercing the depths of their soul. But something seemed off, something I had not noticed in my hours staring into its depths from my craft. A black, all encompassing shadow was swallowing the nebula from the top and bottom. Had I just witnessed the death of a nebula? No. It was something far greater than I could have ever imagined. The nebula opened again, it had blinked. Was this some sort of anomaly? Or had I just witnessed something from a separate plane of existence? I do n't know. But the nebula blinked, I saw it with my own eyes. And I would likely be the only person to behold such a sight for the rest of time. I was at the center of the Bootes Void and would likely never see another human for the rest of my life, my craft would drift throughout the void for all of time. I would never be able to inform the Great Researchers of my discovery, I would die alone in the Void with no accomplishments except this. I had seen a nebula blink, now that I think about it... Was the Helix Nebula even a nebula to begin with, or was it part of some great interstellar being? I will never know.
[ WP ] Tell us a story from your childhood the way you WISH it had happened .	`` Happy Christmas, darling!'' With eager fingers, I pulled the wrapping off the box. Below it, was a remote controlled Knight Rider Kitt 2000. _______________________________________________ But no, you motherfuckers. You fucking bastards. You fucking low life pieces of shit. No. No. You could n't even get that right, could you? *Could you? * You fucking fucks! I slaved. I slaved for you. Behaving in front of guests. Tidying my room when asked politely. Spending'quality time' with the family. Suffering - suffering - through hugs and positive reinforcement. And for what. What? For nothing. And Santa? Santa? That fucking lie you spun for a decade? That NSA surveillance panopticon? He was nothing? He was nothing but an extension of your lies? But an extension of your fascist control of my every movement? Affluenza? I'll show you fucking affluenza you fucking assholes!
[ WP ] You come home to see a table laid out for a dinner for two . You live alone and were n't expecting anyone .	I do n't even bother taking off my watery overcoat, hurtling in soggy boots to the table. The nice china's out. It has n't been out since she died, and I certainly did n't put it out. I just sit there, staring at where her eyes would be. She'd be leaning forward, looking slightly down, so I lean over the white cream-colored tablecloth, head tilted slightly upward. Nothing happens, but I know she's there. I can just feel it. The comfort, the sense of joy, of acceptance, of being with the only person I've ever truly loved. `` Is that you?'' A rhetorical question, for I know it's her. It has to be her. Who else could it be? But there is no response. She can not answer, death holds her tongue. A quality Merlot sits on the table, recently uncorked. I pour her a glass. It does n't move. I'll help her. I swirl the glass, lift it to where her lips surely shine resplendent in rosy lipstick. Tilt it, give here a light taste. Splashes of wine darken the tablecloth, but I can feel that she likes it. I pour her more, then supply myself. We talk for hours and hours catching up. `` No, I have n't moved on. How could I move on? Everyone else I meet pales in comparison.'' She smiles invisibly at my devotion. `` I ca n't stop thinking about you. Every minute, every second of the day.'' She shifts slightly, a hint of nervousness. `` I will have you back. You are mine. You always were and always will be. We'll be together if I have to take you back from God himself.'' More nervousness, a tensing of the shoulders. She looks away. And I hear her talk in that velvety, decadent drawl. `` You need to move on. Forget about me. You'll be happier.'' No, she's wrong. We're meant for each other. We two are one. I tell her so. She shakes her head no. `` You bitch!'' I'm livid, vibrating with anger. The tablecloth rips in my hands, the china drops with a clash and a shatter. She's running from me now, and I'm chasing. I take my steak knife from the table, hold it in front of me. `` You wo n't try to leave me again. You're mine! Mine!'' I pound after her through the house, echoes of the past. Striking, slashing, drawing blood. Carving at her. She ca n't go. She just ca n't. I have to stop her. She must stay. I love her. I can not let her leave. She screams. `` It's for your own good!'' We must be one. She can not go. Why is she doing this? Why does she hate me? Even in death. Nobody loves me. They do n't matter. She does n't love me. Why? I will make her love me. A second time she disappears, given over to death. I wonder if she was even here, as I lie alone in a crumbling, ruined suburban dream. I will follow her. She ca n't be allowed to leave again.
[ WP ] A high tension cable snaps and whips straight toward you . Time freezes . A figure explains that this is your death and you can accept that or be spared if you agree to do his bidding .	The noise was louder than I could have imagined. Not that I would try to imagine that certain noise in the first place. The cracking snap came from the tow truck attempting to move a white Impala. The car had rear ended my small and modest Mazda off the roadway. While I had stopped the car, the Impala continued, only to run into cement pillar on the sidewalk. Smashed utterly the only way to remove the vehicle was a tow truck, which brings me back to the noise. Wether the cable had snapped from lack of maintenance or some other freak occurrence, I do n't know. All I could tell was that it was a lot slower than I thought it would be. When the metal was close enough to touch, it came to a stand still. I reeled away from the imminent death and fell promptly on my ass. `` What the...'' The cable was suspended in air, the tow truck man had his head leaned out of the car looking startled and the Impala hovered three inches above the ground. I reached my hand out tentatively to the flayed wire. `` I would n't do that.'' I flinched at the voice. `` Well I guess you could but blood is important to you humans, right?'' I scrambled around. A mischievous looking guy crouched on top of a decorative concrete sphere. He looked to be around twenty, a thin build and with blonde hair most men would be jealous of. He had one of his hands pressed against his chin slightly covering his grinning mouth. `` Who are you? What's going on?'' I tried to keep my voice level to hide the terror rising in my gut. `` Oh you're trying to act brave, how cute.'' His eyes sparkled, not in a kind or welcoming way. I felt like I was being stared down by a predator. The man slowly stood up and jumped off the small height, landing with legs locked. The jacket he was wearing was thick, blue and had fur lining the hood. The cloths did n't look like casual wear however. The way he wore it suggested refined taste and sharpness. `` Nice to meet you, I'm Rakeil.'' After a brief pause he continued. `` You should probably remember that.'' Rakeil remained standing and staring thoughtfully. `` Usually I would n't move this fast, but time can only be stopped for SO long. And it looks like you've gotten yourself into a sticky situation.'' His voice was low and had a hint of an accent I had never heard before. `` What's going on... Rakeil?'' `` Heh, thought you'd never ask.'' He walked a bit closer to me, moving very gracefully. Suddenly he was right besides me, kneeling in the ground. `` Hate to say it, well honestly, I take pleasure in saying it but your dead, sunshine!'' Rakeil said with a shit eating grin. I looked at the strange man horrified. I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off. `` Well actually...'' He shoved his sleeves up inspecting his left forearm. His smile turned to a frown. `` If I had my watch on me I could tell you WHEN you're going to be dead but my rough estimate says point oh one seconds until you'll be pushing daisies.'' He glanced to the cord then back at me with the corners of his mouth upturned. `` I-I'm well out of the way though! Of the wire!'' `` If I let you. You know, I could snap my fingers,'' he raised his thumb and middle finger,'' and you'd be in the same place before you fell on your ass.'' `` Well let me live!'' I shouted. `` I'm a normal person! I walk my dog every day, meet my friends, go to work! I have n't made anything out of my life yet! So please, Rakeil, let me live!'' Rakeil grabbed one of my hands and hoisted me upright. He patted my shoulder and straightened my jacket. `` Yeah, of course I'll let you live. Who do you think I am, Satan? Or a, a,'' he searched for a word. `` A sadist or something sick like that? Huh.'Ye of little faith'.'' His hand went back to his mouth. `` Thank you so-'' `` But you know the oldest rule in the handbook, right?'' He cocked his head, intimidating eyes shining back at me. `` Do n't worry, your silence is my cue.'' Rakeil strutted back to the concrete ball and leaned against it. `` How do you corpulent people say it these days?'' He looked at me amused. `` Your silence speaks to me. I'll just say what your thinking.'' Rakeil seemed almost playful. `` There ai n't no such thang as uh free lunch.'' The man took up a mock southern accent. He cleared his throat and looked at me expectantly. `` Well... How would you like to live?'' `` What's the cost?'' I asked warily. He shrugged, turning away. `` Just a few favors here and there. Nothing as costly as getting your head bashed in by a rope.'' Rakeil ran his thin fingers through his hair. He turned around, hair looking flawless and green eyes shining lustrously. `` What do you say sunshine?'' Our eyes met. While he radiated control, excitement and enthusiasm, I was afraid. I was very afraid. But I was more afraid of dying. `` Yes.'' Rakeil's eyes flickered, hand still tugging at his mouth. `` I'll see you soon, sunshine. Do n't go dying on me.'' He walked to the cord and touched the frayed metal. It glowed green, blue then red and evaporated. `` Rakeil, are you an angel?'' I asked. He barked a laugh, back turned. `` That's for you to find out.'' He gave one last glance and snapped his fingers. Time became normal and I was n't struck dead. I was joyous, no, filled with ecstasy! I saw the clouds moving and birds flying and I was relieved. But what I did n't see was Rakeil smile with his faintly pointed teeth, or his eyes flash purple as he turned away. His voice echoed faintly as I made my way home. `` I'll see you soon.'' ( I definitely want to continue this!!! )
[ WP ] Imagine a world where if you said `` literally '' it literally happened	As the sun rose over the horizon, beaming into my room through the paper thin fabric I called curtains, I shielded my eyes from the light and rolled over to my clock to check the time. As always, I managed to wake up 5 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. I had a feeling that today was going to be different, but I could n't really put my finger on it. I went on with my daily routines as I would normally. Shower, shave, breakfast. But when I turned on the tv to watch the morning news, I heard that my home country had been completely eradicated by the neighboring countries. Beads of sweat began to form on my forehead, tears started to well in my eyes. Mom. Dad. All of my brothers and sisters. All gone. My legs began to tremble as I shut off the tv and called the closest person I had to family. Between the dial tones there was a somber silence in the air. Then, suddenly, there was a loud thud, Thud, THUD. `` Hello? ``, My friend answered. `` Dude turn on the news! I'm literally shitting bricks right now.''
[ WP ] As a shape-shifting thief , you 've pulled off some of the world 's most brilliant heists . Recently though , someone mimicking your talents has stolen from you , and they left a note saying they were going after your greatest treasure next .	Maurice Van Del Hoeff, as he was known to many, loved to play games and as a shapeshifter he seldom lost. He loved it all the more when someone decided to play games with him. As a shapeshifter he made a perfect thief for any kind of magic artifact. Wards, magic barriers, arcane automatons, and all manner of incantation would be fooled to his wiles; everything else was avoided with acrobatic finesse and shadow magic. Priceless treasure after priceless treasure fell into his clutches without incident. Most of the time. Maurice had clients from all corners of the multiverse. One week he'd steal an interdimensional glam from an Orthaxian scribe, and then he'd steal it back for that same scribe under another identity. Maurice enjoyed a lavish life style and a life filled with adventure. Things became routine after a time and even the most exotic of contracts became dull. What do you do when you can steal from anyone with no resistance? You begin pissing people off. It started with an amulet of incineration, that was `` lost'' amongst other goods. Next was a bottomless wine cask that was `` tragically destroyed'' in transit. This continued until `` Maurice'' had a comfortable little hovel in the floating city of Mendalcatta, filled with priceless artifacts of all kinds. No one was the wiser, much to the chagrin of Maurice. ... As Maurice came home from a night of carousing and mindless sexual encounters in one of his statuesque masculine forms; a small piece of paper with his name on it in elegant cursive, immediately seized his attention. This paper drove his heart faster than any of the loose men and women he had so slovenly interacted with during the night. And there had been a few. A moment passed as he considered the ramifications of this note. Whoever it was, they were on par with his ability to get into his abode, and they had no intention of killing him. Yet. He decided to read the note before taking inventory. Surely, they had taken something, whoever they were. `` Greetings Olkan, my name is Anara and I have taken an interest in you. Amongst other things I have taken tonight. You have so many lovely treasures it was hard to choose any one, so I decided on your fine leather vest. You know, the nice one you wear to dinner with those whores from the observatory.'' Maurice aka Olkan's face was slack and his eyes wide, either from total embarassment or absolute adoration for the creature preying upon him. `` When I return, you'll have nothing to do with them and I suppose I'll have your attention. Regards Anara'' At that moment, Olkan knew he was to lose, everything. Much to his surprise it suited him just fine.
[ WP ] In the near future a company holding the only patent to a point-to-point teleportation system in widespread use is exposed as a fraud and the truth is more horrible than anyone expected it to be .	I was there in an instant. `` Wow, this thing is amazing. I ca n't think how I lived without it.'' `` Well, here at Red-Tech we pride ourselves on the latest in innovation and this device will change the world forever.'' I was given the tour of the facility. `` So, what is the device based on.'' `` Oh, it creates a very fast moving portal and it moves around you, so it is not like you die or anything. It just shifts one point in space to another and then holds it there.'' `` Yes, it is n't bad is it, you go from point to point in the blink of an eye.'' `` So how does it work?'' `` Well, it is very simple, it folds the space-time continuum at a location and holds it in place.'' `` I see.'' `` Yes, the effect is quite profound.'' `` So what happens when the device runs out of power. `` `` Oh that wo n't happen in your lifetime.'' `` What if it malfunctions?'' `` Oh, then in that case you will be forcefully pulled back through every aperture you have ever crossed until you are back where you first used it.'' `` That does n't sound so bad.'' `` Well, there is that, and the fact that your atoms may fly apart from the forces.'' `` What!'' `` This is why we perform regular services on the device.'' `` But they wo n't turn off will they?'' `` Only if we want them to.'' `` You can turn them off?'' `` Yes, but only if you do n't keep up your payments.'' `` I will tell people about this.'' `` It doubles as a listening device, and our AI can tell if you are going to do that based on your bodily signs. Let's face it, the company owns you, it is just a good thing you work for the company now.''
[ WP ] You find the SO that you 've been looking for , dreaming of ; but you 're not who they are looking for , dreaming of .	`` I'm so sorry... I just do n't feel the same'' She said looking up at me from across the table. Her dark brown eyes filled with regret. I forced a smile as she looked away sighing. I looked down at my meal, no longer hungry. I never expected to fall for her. We ran in similar friend groups, never really talking in depth but exchanging pleasantries whenever we saw each other. That soon changed when all of a sudden we found we had a lot in common and soon we were talking every day. We had the exact sense of humor it was uncanny, both of us laughing at something while the rest of our friends looked at us like we were crazy. We loved the same movies and music. I soon started feeling something for her, something I have n't felt in a long time. Unfortunately by the time we had discovered all this it was summer before college. She was going somewhere for college, and I was going another place. I knew I had to tell her, and maybe, just maybe, we could be together. I called and asked for lunch. The whole time I felt like I was gon na pass out I was so nervous. When she walked in I instantly smiled, seeing her had that affect on me. Her beautiful dark hair and eyes to match hit right in the heart. We talked and talked and eventually I just came out with it. I told her about how I felt whenever she was around. She learned how every time we texted I would always smile like a fucking idiot whenever her name popped up on my phone. I told her how I could just be myself around her and I never had to worry about embarrassing myself. She looked at me smiling, looking flattered. When I finished she just looked down, and then looking back at me said `` I'm so sorry... I just do n't feel the same''
[ WP ] You are a relatively silent and shy high school student who is asked to do an on the spot speech on graduation day in front of the crowd . You use this chance to tell your side of high school that you ’ ve kept to yourself all four years .	`` So...'' I climb up on the stage, shaking with nerves. `` I um... I've been asked to do a speech about my time here. It's a bit last minute and I'm not quite sure what I'm going to say but uh... I'll do my best.'' A bead of sweat runs down my face. This is one of my worst nightmares come true. Why me of all people? Nobody even knows who I am other than `` that shy girl''. Of all the people in this room, probably only about 5 know my name. Including the teachers. I close my eyes briefly and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. `` So... I'll try not to bore you.'' I let out a nervous laugh and immediately flush bright red as the audience continues staring blankly at me. Words fail me for a moment and I stand there awkwardly for a few seconds which somehow felt like hours. I need to say something. It does n't matter what, just anything to stop this awkward silence. An idea comes to me but I ca n't say that... can I? I've got to. It's better than standing here, speechless with everyone staring at me expectantly. I take another deep breath and begin my speech. `` I... I wish I could say that I've enjoyed my time here. That I've met brilliant people, made so many new friends who I'm going to stay in contact with for the rest of my life. But... that's just not true.'' I laugh again, bitterly this time. `` None of you even know who I am. I have no friends here. I'm just... the ghost, I guess. People look straight through me, never notice me. It's almost as if I do n't exist.'' For the first time in my life, all attention is on me. It's an odd feeling. I press on, not wanting to lose my flow. `` I mean, I guess I'm lucky in some respects. Nobody acknowledges me, so I'm in no danger of being bullied. But still, it's just... so... lonely. Eating lunch alone. Always dreading when a teacher asks us to partner up, knowing I'll be the one left alone. It makes you long for any sort of attention, good or bad. In a strange way, I feel like if I was bullied that'd be better somehow. I know I would feel differently if that was the case, but just...'' I lose my composure slightly here, letting out a sob. `` Just knowing that if... if I went home and something happened to me, if I did n't turn up tomorrow... nobody would care! In fact, they would n't even notice!'' The audience is beginning to murmur. I ca n't tell if they're feeling sympathetic, bored, or still just wondering who the hell I am. `` Five years of that... it's not pleasant. I'd do anything for a second chance... to go back in time or something and force myself to make at least one friend. Just one friend so I would n't be alone. See... I know it's all my own fault. All I needed to do was be brave on that first day... just force myself to talk to someone. And even then that was n't my only opportunity. I had at least a week before people started forming their own friendship groups. Even after that, it would've been more difficult but not impossible! Just one friend!'' I stop talking and wipe my eyes, sighing. `` So yeah. Here I am. Last day, wooo!'' I let out a weak cheer and punch the air jokingly. `` Like I said, I'm happy to be leaving here. But it's none of your faults. I've learnt my lesson. Wherever I end up going next... I'll make sure to try. I wo n't waste that opportunity again. I wo n't let this happen again. I ca n't... I ca n't be alone any more. And all you guys... I'm sure you're all great people, I just never got to know you. Do n't let this happen to you.'' I put the microphone down gently and walk off the stage, still shaking. Everyone is staring at me and I'm not sure what to do about it. But I've said my piece. Just ten more minutes in this place and I'll be out of here. I can make a new start.
[ WP ] You find out that the person you 've been chatting with and slowly falling for is actually a toy that comes to life when its owner is asleep and uses their computer to chat with you at night .	`` Please Cassie, I never intended it to be like this.'' `` When were you going to tell me?'' `` I tried...'' `` How? How'd you try? `` I told you I'm small, and that I could be your pocket soldier... I was serious.'' The small shoulders beneath the soldiers' uniform were slumped in resignation. `` After he's asleep, I'm as real as you. I bleed like you.'' `` But Joe, even if I did come for you...'' `` Just think about it. I can hide in the attic for a day, then I'll likely get packed with the other donations. I'll stay alive Cassie, I am cursed. Before I was Eddies, I was his Dads, and before that, his dad bought me at a garage sale. I'm old, and I want someone to share my existence with.'' The figure on the camera looked off to the side for a second. `` He's gon na wake up soon. I must hide. Please, if you decide yes, I'll be on top of the mailbox at 10 tonight. I love you so much Cassie, I ca n't imagine nor having you to talk to.'' `` I... I'll see. This is a lot to consider you know.''
[ WP ] What is the greatest invention that comes to mind ? Got it ? Now , suppose it was turned into a weapon to be used against an army of cybernetic Dinosaurs in the year 2300 . Your name is Jeff . Good luck .	`` The wheel...?'' I asked, a little baffled. `` Yeah. You heard that right. You have one week. Good luck, Jeff.'' said the man on the other side of the transmitter. He closed. `` Alright... Alright, alright... How am I supposed to use the wheel against an army of cybernetic dinosaurs?'' I asked the emptiness around me. I fell asleep with my head resting on the table after many failed attempts, countless clumps of paper littered the floor. I woke up after a rough dream about falling off a giant automatic wheel before I hit the ground. `` Giant... wheel...'' I murmured, `` I think have a plan!'' I popped on the goggles and set off to work. This was humanity's last chance. Dammit, I should n't have thought that. Too much pressure. Eventually, I finished the first prototype and sent the blueprints to the manufacturers. This was going to be grand. On the last day I was sent at the edge of the battlefield with a large team of soldiers. I could hear footsteps in the distance, and the trees around were moving with them in unison. I looked in the distance. I knew they were there, but I still could n't see them, yet, they were getting close. I gulped. `` We are humanity's last chance in front of this imminent danger. If this plan fails, we are doomed. This day will enter the history books if we win. Good luck.'' I said, while waiting for the cyber-dinos to come in range. `` Man the war-wheels!'' I said when the first hybrid peaked its shape on the horizon, before I got into my own vehicle. With the element of surprise on our side, the battle was won. We crushed our opponents into piles of bloodied mangled wires. At dusk, the last of the hybrids was destroyed. To be frank, the only reason we won was due to the element of surprise, they never expected the wheel.
[ WP ] A ground soldier in the board game Risk keeps a diary of the horrors which he has seen in his long military career .	December 2nd, 08:02pm I was finally set out. The commander moved me to a space in Ukraine. The people here stink, at least where I am anyway. The place is a concrete city filled with death. There is probably a poetic word for that. Every room we have breached, searching for sympathizers, has either been full of hoarder's memories of a time gone or dead bodies. I do n't know which is worse; seeing newspapers of when the world was happy or seeing a rotting skeleton as a fat cat lulls around by the window sill, staring out onto the concrete jungle. Everyone has been calling it that. A concrete jungle. It's not a jungle. Jungles are full of wonder and are twisting, turning and is full of adventure. This place is on a grid. It's not full of wonder. It's grey. It is disgusting and I want to go home. December 2nd, 08:06pm We busted down another door. We tried to see if there was a sympathizer, just found another dead family. A shotgun clutched between one of their hands. I could n't tell who they were, their heads were gone. As we left the building, we were told we were moving. We were going to Scandinavia. We landed there and it was different. It was a snow-covered city. I hope this is better than Ukraine. December 2nd, 08:05pm We remained in Scandinavia. There are homeless cover every single door mat in the city. We got a message from the higher ups, many of the homeless are sympathizers. Apparently, the enemy said that they would put cheap food on every street corner, so ninety percent of homeless are apparently sympathizers. I am wasting ammo at every doorstep. A question about spare change and a reply of lead. The snow is sprinkled with red. Ammo is running out. The headquarters are sending terrible rounds to compensate for their homeless plan. Many guys are calling them `` rocks'' or `` fireworks'' instead of bullets. I went up to one doorway and there was a homeless man, covered in a blanket. I put my boot on his chest and pointed the barrel to his eye. I pulled the trigger and it clicked. The bullet was a dud. I had to rechamber, letting the dud fly in the snow until I could blow his memories onto the welcome mat. It took a second too long. I pulled my boot off his chest and continued on my patrol. One of my patrol mates shook a magazine at me and, giggling, said; `` Look! I got a tube of rocks!'' before he slammed it into his rifle. He continued laughing as he took pot shots at passing civilians. They screamed and ran away, some cursed at us. As we patrolled, a message came from higher-up, telling us that a higher percentage of swear words within a square kilometer decreased military moral. My patrol mate took a pot shot at a couple, a tall man and a blonde woman who were walking side by side. The woman screamed as she dodged, they ran over the other side of the road. As they ran, the man shouted, cursing us. I sighed. I shouldered my rifle, lining his head between the lines and squeezed the trigger. Out the side of his head sprayed a red mist as he hit the road. The woman grabbed him, cradling him as she cried. We kept on our patrol. December 2nd, 08:08pm We were forced to fight the enemy for Scandinavia. I was awoken by civilians screaming support for the oncoming forces as they paraded through the street. I looked out of my window and saw their parade. They were in lines, swinging their legs as tanks turned the corner of the road. I tapped my patrol mate awake, telling him to be quiet as he groaned awake. I pointed out the window and he looked. We woke up everyone in turn and pointed out the parade to them. By that time, they were thousands of civilians cheering them on. Even from the building we were in. One of my patrol mates had an idea. He pointed to the cheering within the building and pulled a grenade out of his pocket. I nodded and we left the room. We crept to the door. I put my rifle to the lock and fired. The handle exploded, falling to the floor as my patrol mate kicked open the door. The cheering stopped as the woman turned with her hands up. I sprinted up to her, smacking her in the mouth with my rifle butt. She fell against the window, cracking it. My patrol mate flicked the pin out of the grenade as I pushed her against the window, grabbing her by the throat. He placed the grenade in her shirt and told me to move my hand. He raised his foot and kicked her through the window. She fell, with a scream, onto the road. I ran to another window and looked out. The woman landed with a smack on the road, the parade making a circle around her. The parade stopped dead, staring at the corpse. They looked up for a moment before the explosion through them through the air. I could hear shrapnel smacking nearby walls and screaming as some soldiers fell onto the road, surviving with bent legs. One of the tanks turned itself towards the building and we ran back to our patrol room.
[ WP ] The first unmanned rover lands on a planet orbiting Alpha Centauri B . After a week of observation and reconnaissance , the rover stumbles across what appears to be another rover .	Absolute silence. Slowly, whispers of doubt and surprise began to thunder throughout the room. 5 years ago, the `` Tailor'' bent the universal fabric to explore the Alpha Centauri solar system. The greatest achievement of mankind was supposed to be proof we had exceeded the speed of light, a picture of blank space would suffice. But truth is stranger than fiction: we received a tiny compressed image, a bone chilling reflection of our own lens. The excitement rapidly developed into frantic examination and signal checking. I was frozen while optics, transmission, and landing subdivisions rushed past me. It could n't be a problem with the camera, we can clearly see our own external lens and protector. It could n't be a transmission error, noise and other distortions could not resemble this. If the rover broke while landing, none of the cameras would have survived to take pictures of itself, they were too fragile. In the midst of our panic, only half of the team was paying attention when the second signal came through. The Tailor's automated programming backed itself away from the mirror, revealing that an alien machine, with a lens of its own caused the reflection. The landing subdivision confirmed that all systems were fully intact after touchdown. I stood up, without any real purpose, and looked around. I began to make my way for the door, I needed to clear my mind. Suddenly, air-force rushed in exclaiming over megaphone that all information must be kept confidential. What the hell is going on? Am I in some sort of conspiracy? Mechanics shouted that Tailor could n't have moved backwards as fast as the picture suggests, that the alien machine is also moving. Programmers also called out that a diagnostic had been run, the machine had been manually reset. What could I do in this situation? All I did was make the engine. I watched anarchy unfold as the third image processed. An American flag, a clear and definite US marker filled the screens. This machine was n't alien at all. This rover must be some sort of top secret accelerated program... No. No, this machine was almost identical to the one we sent. Only something was clearly different, it looked worn out, almost aged. Nothing made sense: optics were functional, transmission was crystal clear, all parts were in place, the AI had n't malfunctioned; this must be real. Then I realized what no one else would. Of course, a tailor must account for all aspects of size. We did n't just jump to another solar system, we jumped through time. It broke while landing and we fixed it by sending another, going even faster, traveling even further back. I calmly sat down, and waited for the confusion to subside.
[ WP ] A man appears in your television addressing you and your family by name that something is coming to kill you in 30 minutes .	Another night of watching the bullshit they put on TV this late. Caroline was snuggled up next to me per usual and was really getting a kick out of the infomercial that was playing. We had been together three years and I never understood why she enjoyed them. She always looked so cute when mocking the overly excited man narrating the commercial. She would open her eyes wide and start making crazy hand gestures. It made these nights bearable I suppose. The monotony of my life at that time was torture, but she always had good spirits. A good contrast to my cynical nature. She found it hilarious how the voice on the infomercial was always super excited about how many easy payments of $ 19.95 there where and would get me to try to guess how many there would be. `` I'm gon na say... four? Four easy payments for the glow in the flashlight?'' `` No way! I would never pay that much!'' she retorted,'' I'm gon na 3 plus shipping and handling.'' She was much better at estimating the cost useless household items while I usually was correct when it came to hazardous children toys, so I was expecting her to be pretty spot on with this one. Before we got to see the price of the glow in the dark flashlight the infomercial was cut off and a man appeared on screen With the same voice and over excitement of the voice on the commercial we had just been watching he spoke. `` Has this ever happened to you Mark and Caroline?'' He said with a fake grin straight out of children's show. The look on Caroline's face was that of complete bewilderment, and my expression was likely no different. `` When there's a man trying to kill you in your own home and you just can seem to survive? Well I have just the thing for you. The new ultra-surviva-book! Now with extra probability of not losing a loved one!'' I could n't even comprehend what was going on. The man in the TV said our names and talked about someone trying to murder us? What the hell? Caroline just had a look of shock on her face. I started to rationalize what was going on and started to convince myself it was just someone in the neighborhood was playing a prank on us. I started to congratulate them in my mind for coming up with something so relatable to what we had been doing. I even started to have a smile, thanking whoever did this for the excitement. `` But hurry up and order in the next thirty minutes or this offer will expire! Call 1-800-968-3323 to receive your limited edition copy. It's only two easy payme-'' Thats the point I decided to turn off the TV. `` What the shit!?!'' Caroline, in all her elegance, asked `` I figure it's just some prank some assholes are playing on us,'' reassuring mostly myself,'' Lets go to bed. We can investigate in the morning.'' `` Alright, but just so you know I'm probably not going to sleep tonight.'' She did n't usually sleep anyway. Always busy, she had do be doing something and could not sit still. I think thats why she liked to make a game out of everything. She ran on 5-6 hours of sleep each night and I had no idea how she stayed so energetic. Her upbeat personality was what attracted me to her, so I was glad she did things the way she did. I fell asleep almost instantly, like I do most nights, and completely forgot about what had with the TV when I woke up half an hour later. Caroline was surprisingly quiet, so I rolled over to see if she had fallen asleep or if she had gotten up to do something. She was n't there. I was thirsty so I decided to get some of the grape juice we had in our fridge. The lights all still off but the TV was back on, so thats where I figured she was. When I got to the kitchen it looked like she had beat me to the grape juice, and spilled it all over the floor. She did n't even have the decency to clean it up. I went into the TV room to chew her out, but I stopped dead when I saw the TV. He was back,'' You did n't order fast enough,'' he said with the fake excitement still in his voice. He repeated it over again. He just kept on repeating it. Over and over. There she was outside. I could see her mangled body tied to the tree in our front yard through the window next to the TV. I was in shock. The TV switched back off then on again, and for once I was right. It was four easy payments of $ 19.95 for the glow in the dark flashlight.
[ WP ] Friends and family organize an intervention for a man addicted to making 'that 's what she said ' jokes .	`` Jimmy, we need to have a talk. This is getting out of control'' said mom. `` OHH! That's what she said!'' `` No, really, Jimmy, this is growing into a big problem.'' said the older brother. `` Ahh man, that's what he said.'' `` Jimmy, really, we all came here for you,'' said hot 2nd cousin Denise. `` Yeah, baby, that's what she said.'' `` Damnit, Jimmy, would you sit down and shutup,'' said Grandma. `` That's what mistress said.'' `` Ahh fuck, Jimmy,'' said his sister. `` Yeah, that's totally what she said.'' `` Jimmy, you have a problem that we want to help you with,'' said mom. `` Ohh yeah, totally what she said.'' `` Damnit, Jimmy, those jokes are getting annoying. We're had it up to here with your shit,'' said Dad. `` Yeah, that's what she said.'' `` That's gross,'' said hot 2nd cousin Denise. `` That's what...'' `` Jimmy, we want you to stop that right now. We're on the verge of gagging you.'' `` Yeah, that's what mistress said, too.'' Then grandpa shot Jimmy. There was nothing left to be done for Jimmy.
[ WP ] The story behind your username .	`` I'm going to name you'Turnover'! ``, exclaimed little 6 year-old John towards the fragile little Golden Retriever pup. Everyone at the party busted into laughter at John's sudden declaration. It was his first puppy, and it was actually very rare for him to declare something like this. He usually did n't like to yell or even talk. He was a quiet kind of guy, he kept to himself and did n't like to harm others. Like a good man would. And of course, as life has its irony and laughs, he fit the type. Hazelnut eyes with a slight coloration of blue, blonde hair starting to turn brown, and a face type that you could fall in love with. He was a perfect child, and his parents were very proud of him... that was, until, 4 years later, John's mother walked into his room as he slept and spoke as softly as she could. `` Hey... John, wake up, buddy'' John then shrugged, with his face facing the wall and his mom behind him, to let his mom know he was awake as she continued, `` Honey, Turnover's going to be away for awhile...'', she paused, `` I just wanted to let you know that... but everything's going to be alright... i'm sure... everything's going to be alright...''. John's mother then left slowly, yet abruptly, as if she was trying to hide something. John was n't really sure what to make of it. but, it was then that John saw the red and blue signals flashing through his window. He could begin to feel the faint screams from outside. John left back to bed... and he knew he would never see his puppy again. John, age 10, was never to be himself again. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- That's of course not my story, I made that up. You said to write about the story behind our usernames, so I chose the story behind the real story behind my username.; ) But I did throw in some things in their that actually related to me in real life. For example: I have hazelnut-blueish eyes and used to have extreme blond hair as a little-un. Plus, when I was 10 years-old, I did actually have to give up a dog that was a golden retriever... just, her name was n't `` Turnover'', it was `` Chease''. Which actually is, believe it or not, a butchered version of the name, `` chelsea''. It's only `` Chease'' just to make sure it matched up with our location on the map- `` Cheasepeake Bay''. The cleverness is too clever for the cleverest. It's really not my fault, I had no say in the name, it was all my parents' doing. On the bright side, I did eventually get a new dog about a year and half later, and he's still with me. His name is `` Gizmo'', and he's an overweight haul of lard that we only keep around because we feel bad that no one else'll like him. Seriously. I mean, I obviously say this in tough lough, but, the guy's kind of a piece of crap... still love'em though...: /
[ WP ] Instead of the oceans covering the earth , forests are in its place , making it possible to walk from continent to continent . Like oceans , it gets deeper and darker and creatures get more aggressive and rarer to see . You are tasked to document a trek through one of the oceans of your choice .	The sponginess of millions of years of dead leaves under my feet make every step seem uncertain. The crunch of the fresh top layer of the orangish/brown mess would mask the sound of any unwanted companions. Adding to the tension was the fact that I have n't seen another member of the animal kingdom in at least three days. Not that I would be able to see one with my naked eyes anyway. The thick canopy obscured the light of the sun so that even at daylights peak there was but a glow as if everything was lit by a full moon obscured by the clouds of a summer storm. It's not that I was n't prepared of course. If you're going to make the months long trek through the Great Pacific Forest there are few less than optional necessities. You might think that a source of light would be high on the list, but let me ask you, with the creatures that loom in the deepest depths of the forest being the opportunists that they are would you want to signal your presence in their home with a simple handheld beacon? No, of course not. Its best to let your eyes adapt, to hone your senses and become like the native beasts of the forest. Of course a set of IR goggles as backup would n't be frowned upon. I keep them at the ready, sitting atop my hooded head, or sometimes I let them hang around my neck. The point is that I always know where they are. Next, of course is protection. This gets more complicated. There is much debate among those of us tasked with walking these great expanses. Some argue that the stealth and utility of a good blade is all the that an experienced adventurer would need. Ballistic weapons are lazy and loud, two things that will most certainly get you killed. This however is traditional garbage. Do I have a stout handled razor sharp edge ready to wield at the first sign of trouble? Of course. But, do I have the arcane firepower of a scoped rifle shoulder slung across my back? Of course. Few understand the mystical danger that awaits the traveller at the pit of the deciduous ocean. I'm not going to be devoured by the darkness because I could n't be bothered to bring a firearm. Obviously, food, shelter, clothing, water, and navigation are undeniably important and I have much to tell you about these things. For now however, I have to devote my full attention to the barely audible primal screech that has pierced the rhythmic step, silence, step, silence that has consumed the forest for the past 3 days...
[ WP ] 60 Seconds	Needle in. Plunger in. Needle out. I glance at my watch as I draw the syringe. 11:59:02. He's got one minute. Watch and make sure this works. Throw the syringe into the biohazard bin mounted near the door. Somehow he knows too. He gasps awake violently. I step back. I should probably contain him. He's tossing the blankets aside, resisting the poison. It should be arresting his respiratory system now. It should be locking his joints and making his muscles slack and useless. It's not. I should be pushing him back into bed. I should be suffocating him with the pillow. I'm not. He's lumbering at me, struggling with every movement, every breath. All I can think of, with horror, is that those stupid movies were right. Chev and the Bride still killed Verona and Ellie. He's dragging his IV along. It clatters to the floor as I turn and exit the room. I walk down the hall. I stop at the nurses' station to point out that, hey, one of your patients is acting weird. Hey, she says, you're acting weird. He lurches forward like Frankenstein's monster. I turn and walk away again. The nurse shouts something, but all I can hear is my head and his IV stand connect, and then, my head and the floor connect. I'm stunned. I'm trying to roll over. I'm trying to get up. I ca n't. He dives on me. His hands wrap around my neck. The poison finally does his job and locks him up. I struggle to push him away and notice the time. 12:00:02.
[ PI ] Skree - FebContest	Here are my thoughts on the story. When I was reading through it the first time the relationship between the main character and Skree seemed off. It was almost as if they did n't care for each other as much as you were trying to imply. From the impression I got, it seemed like they had been together for a little while and at least had some kind of mutually beneficial friendship, but until the end we never really saw much of it. Sure he tried to burn at them when they took the horse, but Skree did n't even try to do anything after the narrator was shot? You seemed to imply that he was a little more intelligent than the average creature, and very loyal, but it kind of surprised me that Lucas even made it out of the camp after shooting the narrator. The first time reading through it just seemed like Skree did n't care as much for the narrator as he should have to allow him to have been trained in any fashion. I'm honestly not sure if my comment makes sense, as when I read it the second time I found it more enjoyable.
[ WP ] You are at the park with your kids , when you see the telltale signs of a lightning strike . You divert your kids from danger , but are hit by lightning . Soon after , you discover that your Dad Senses have increased 100 fold .	After the strike, the first sign was the food. For some reason, food that I had been saving started going missing. A cupcake from the nice store down the street vanished. The chocolate chips vanished into the night. My boxes of cereal were emptied, and the boxes replaced on the shelf. It was clear who the culprit was. “ Dad! ” I cried out, catching him eating my last Poptart as a midnight snack. “ What? Oh, were you saving this? I ’ m so sorry, Jess, I ’ ll pick up some more from the store tomorrow. ” “ Daaad! ” I wailed, “ That Poptart was for breakfast tomorrow and now I ’ ll have to go to school hungry and everyone will think I ’ m crazy because I get angry when I ’ m hungry! ” “ Honey, I ’ m sorry! I ’ m just hungry all the time these days, it ’ s so odd! ” He narrowed his eyes at the pastry. “ I honestly don ’ t even like poptarts usually. Don ’ t know why I took it. ” “ Whatever, dad. ” I sighed and rolled my eyes. “ When child protective services calls for starving your child I won ’ t cover your ass. ” I called out as I headed back up to my room. “ Don ’ t say ass, young lady! And where did all that attitude come from? You ’ re a middle class thirteen year old, not a jaded punk rocker! ” Suddenly, my previously lame single dad, who hadn ’ t been home for dinner in over a year, had time to make meals ( sometimes amazing, sometimes so bad that they set off the smoke alarm, but never the mediocre box macaroni from before the lightning ), come to my soccer games ( and get kicked out of my soccer games for being too rowdy by far ), check my homework with me, and relentlessly mock Dance Moms when I tried to watch it. And the puns, dear God, the puns were terrible. But I ’ ll take it all, because I ’ d been putting up with the shit I was taking from Jim and his friends for months when he finally pushed me over the edge. I was just trying to mind my own business, really, but I dropped my notebook in the hall, and when I heard the wolf whistles as I stood up I saw red. Watching my dad come into the principal ’ s office as Jim moaned and held his gory nose I thought I was done for. He followed the principal into the back, giving me a hard eye as he was dragged away to hear of my newfound proclivity to violence. When he came out he stood over me, staring me down. I hung my head. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Jim smile through the hand he was holding over his nose. “ Jess. What happened? ” He glared down at me. “ Well… ah… ” The principal looked on in concern. “ I dropped my notebook, and when I bent over to pick it up, Jim whistled. ” I said softly. “ I see. So you hauled off and broke his nose, is that correct? ” His tone was sterner than I ’ d ever heard it. “ Yes.. ” I whispered. I could feel my shame flooding my body. “ I see. ” He said again. “ Well, Jim, I would normally be suing for sexual harassment, but seeing as my daughter here broke your nose in front of half your class, maybe we should call it even, huh? If you plan to do it again, though, I would advise lawyering up first. Principal Rodgers, Jess is taking the day off. When she returns on Monday I expect proof of a safe schooling environment for her and all the girls at this school, or the superintendent will be hearing that you intended to suspend my daughter for defending herself against a perceived threat of sexual harassment. Clear? ” I stared at him in shock as the principal nodded. On the way out, he leaned down to whisper to me. “ I saw the security footage. It was a nice right hook, but I don ’ t think it was one of your greatest hits. ” And I giggled.
[ WP ] An immortal enlists in the army .	February 1st 1945. I'll always remember this forsaken date as it undeniably changed my perspective about life. The eyes of the World now looked at the Pacific as the main stage of World War II, my division stationed 2 days ago and asked to regain control of the Bataan province in the Philippines, at all costs. In the morning, we were moving into the very first step of the infamous Zig-Zag Pass, a jungle valley leading to the control of Manila Bay. A series of foxholes connected by tunnels and trenches made by the Japanese and the natural dense vegetation was blocking our view 5 feet away from the road, rendering practically impossible to track our enemies' movements. I was a Sergeant back then, having two corporals with me along the journey we were scouting ahead of the regiment. The day was hot like hell and humid like we never felt in Indiana, but it was the best moment to cover as most ground as possible. We knew by the time the sun would set, so would our courage. At around 6 o'clock, we started moving back toward our camp, the sun dangerously low above the hills. We were walking as silently as possible, but it did n't save us from being marked by the Japanese. We run as fast as we could, trying to find cover and regain our senses. At some point, we found a small ravine and hid in it. The sun was starting to hide behind the hills, the sky painted red as blood. We stayed silent for several minutes while the only sound we heard was the exploding artillery shells thrown from the hills, trying to pinpoint our location. We saw some Japanese Imperialists coming out of holes in front of us. My heart skipped a beat and then my instincts kicked in. I went back inside the jungle as the two corporals opened fire on the Japanese. One of them fell on the ground a slug between his shoulder blades. And then, the whistling sound of the shell coming from the sky ended its terrifying scream when it landed, and exploded, in-between both camps. My two corporals being shred by the shrapnels and the rocks. Noticing the remaining Japanese officers falling as well, I was the last man standing. My breathing was hectic at best, I wonder how come I did n't lose my mind at that time, alone against the adversaries of ours in this land we know nothing about. But it may be because my sanity was doomed to be lost in the upcoming minutes. As I got out of the jungle to get my partner's dog-tags, I heard some noises from the japanese cadavers. One of them seemed to be breathing. I silently moved toward him to make sure he would n't call for help and finish him off. I did n't had the chance to walk 2 steps that he suddenly got up, holding his torn left hand in his right. At that precise moment, I had the impression the night fell down instantaneously, this man in the dark was reattaching his arms. I could see the muscles reconstructing, the bones snapping back together and his skin covering his arm as if nothing happened. The monster slowly turned his head, his glowing red eyes looking at me, at my soul. A malevolent aura around him, the last thing I could remember was his inhuman sprint toward me, his hands open like claws, ready to attack.
[ WP ] `` Traditional vaccines work by targeting what makes a virus different . The new global antiviral drug works by targeting common aspects all viruses share . '' What could possibly go wrong ?	`` Zombies!'' Eddy cried aloud `` Zombies?'' Edmund bemused `` Yes, now listen you filthy peasent, it's why I spent ten years building my secret underground bunker. It's got everything I need to survive the coming apocalypse. Whil you may have gone to college, and you may have gotten jobs, it will all be worthless come the end times!'' Eddys zeal shun brightly in the low bar lights. `` Eddy it's going to stop all viruses. Not cause zombies to manifest. Trust me. It's all going to be alright.'' Ali said trying in vain to keep Eddys usual zeal to a minmum. -- - 2 days later -- - `` Shit.'' Ali said in Eddys bunker. It was more like a self contained city, where on earth did he get a fusion reactor? That's was n't even invented yet! `` Yep.'' Edmund `` How did you convince me your redneck cousin was an idiot?'' Ali asked as they stared over the futuristic underground village. There were trees growing everywhere and bright rivers everywhere. `` Ama be honest. I have no idea. This is a surprise to me as much as it is to you.'' Edmund said `` I mean he was right.'' Ali said. `` Zombies.'' Edmund said. `` Zombies.'' Ali agreed.
[ WP ] There 's no such thing as aliens -- anymore	The clues had been there all along but countless centuries of study had failed to link them until the probes began bringing back evidence. Anyone who ever espoused the idea that we were alien hybrids or that other intelligent life forms existed were laughed out of scholarly circles as crackpots and fiction writers. Yet we all know. Deep in our collective psyche, deep down where all of us are linked in the dream levels; there is the place we truly know. It is that place where we think we can fly, where we connect telepathically, where poems and fiction spring from, where Gods exist and fey creatures roam. The kernel of truth at the basis of all our mythology, our legends and folk tales; there, there in that place we avoid thinking about, distracted in our conscious reality of day to day living. That is where we know why we are alone. There is a vast empty sense of loss when we gaze up into the stars. A reason why we avoid gazing out into that great uninhabited incredible and beautiful vista. That emptiness engulfs us if we stare too long. We avoid the night and the stars. They remind us with their cold clarity that all the rest are gone. The photos are hoaxes, the moon landing never happened, there are no faces or pyramids on mars, no odd phenomena on the other planets, the asteroid belt was not once a planet, no other gas giant was ever thrown off orbit by its neighbours, no reason why the giant pictograms are carved into the vast plains of this world, no reason why all the pyramid like structures on every continent resemble each other, no reason but one. Us. We the lonely remnants. In our dreams and imagination we remember them. Every story holds a kernel of the truth. So long ago, we forgot, in the struggle to survive. We failed to remember and in our failure we forgot why we needed to survive and so we tread the same paths to destruction. Soon we won ’ t just be alone. We too, will be gone.
[ WP ] A nerdy kid discovers that magic spells work exactly like a computer programming language .	The Council of Casters was in an uproar. The Head Caster, seated at the head of the star-shaped desk had his brows furrowed, three wisps to his left and right holding up the records of the student, neatly arranged in a folder, and an iPhone, showing a video of the caster's prowess. The student, an 18-year old, geeky looking teen, was seen standing in front of an old telephone on a teachers desk. He raised his index finger, as if about to ask a question. He wagged and waved his fingers, as if he was writing. `` After viewing the video countless times, i am sure he wrote Public... Static... Void... Teleport,'' said Caster Oakley, the professor of the student, pausing between the words that seemed to be random and nonsensical. On screen, the telephone disappeared from the desk and the classroom burst into applause. `` His spell was able to teleport the telephone from the classroom desk to the flagpole in the quadrangle, pretty much seven rooms away,'' narrated Caster Oakley.'' Such feats normally would take at least 13 years!'' The Council murmed in agreement. `` But that's not the most amazing of his feats,'' said Oakley. The Head Caster raised an eyebrow and nodded, imploring him to continue. `` See the next video, sire,'' Oakley said. The Head Caster stared at the iPhone for a moment, brows furrowing once again. The iPhone started to shake a bit because of the wisps, as if fingers were fumbling with the iPhone, trying to look for buttons. The Council giggled in amusement, save for the Head Caster, who let out a huff of frustration. Oakley barely stifled his laughter, awkwardly clearing his throat. `` Allow me, sir,'' he beckoned. He held his fingers as it about to snap, but instead tapped once in the air with his index, and once with his middle finger, as if tapping on the corresponding video. `` Dare i ask: how had you teleported the telephone that far, that quickly?'' asked Oakley on the recording. `` I had a chat with him after class,'' Oakley said. `` He does not have an idea as to how much promise he has shown.'' The student shrugged. `` It's... Kinda hard to explain, sir.'' `` Try me,'' replied Oakley. The student hesitated, eyes looking down, head topped sideways, as if juggling the decision of whether or not he is to tell.'' `` Um... Programming, sir.'' The Council murmed in surprise. Oakley noted how quickly the Head Caster's brows shot up. `` The goal of the spell was to transport the telephone from point A, the table, to point B, the flagpole. In my mind's eye, i saw the Path of magic - like neon lines running from one point to infinitely other points... The cabinet, the next classroom's desk... Even your head, sir.'' `` So i thought of this thing in programming called Breadth First Search. In my mind's eye i evaluated the pathlines before casting the spell than simply directing the object to move. Actually it was n't even me... Magic found it, sir. I only had to be given the appropriate commands and instructions.'' The Council burst into clamor once again. Oakley cleared his throat to silence the council. `` This is only of his feats. He demonstrated and explained even more of his feats.'' He opened the Photos app of the iPhone with more flicks, taps, and wags of his finger. `` He perfectly charged this ball of aura by - in his words - iteratively incrementing the magical variable that contained the magic.'' He wagged his finger, as if going to the next image on an iPhone. `` He drew this beautifully symmetric firework using - again, in his words - iteratively getting sines of the center and random radii. He said he used something called a for loop.'' Another wag of the finger. `` In the class, he was able to maintain this ball of fire. He said he used something called a while loop.'' Another wag of his finger. `` He managed to control this life-sized mannequin using only magic. He only said he did Object-oriented than procedural, making each part of the mannequin an object. I consulted google and Object Oriented was a programming paradigm.'' He pushed down an imaginary lever with his middle finger and ring finger, turning off the iPhone. `` He programmed, my fellow Councilmembers. Modernity has knocked at magic's door, in the most unexpected way. We may have a child more advanced than most of us here!'' The Council, afraid of losing their Council positions, burst into uproar once again. `` I never liked technology,'' grumbled the Head Caster, looking sadly at his Council Pin, which soon might have to be passed on.
[ WP ] Write a story that uses an existing character you like or dislike and that demonstrates why you feel that way .	As Lee Everrett walked down the road back towards the motel, Kenny was talking his ear off. Talking about how Duck was doing in the middle of the zombie apocalypse, talking about the good haul they had in the city, and mostly about this one really good shot he made back in the apartment complex. `` And then BLAM! I shot that fucker right in the head! It was the shit! Lee, you listening to me man? Lee?'' Lee was distracted. The girl he was protecting, Clementine, had been going hungry lately. It was n't bad, but as far as Lilly's lottery went, it seemed to favor her pops more than it did the kids in the camp. `` Lee, you're distracted about something. What is it?'' Kenny asked. `` It's Clementine. She has n't eaten for the past two days. I really do n't like Lilly's system of food distribution, no matter how necessary it is.'' `` I hear ya man, nobody in my family has gotten a bite to eat in the past couple of days. Duck is complaining and Katjaa is barely holding back her complaints. I think we would have better luck on the road, you know. Find a place that has more food.'' `` Kenny, we already talked about this. Traveling in a zombie apocalypse is dangerous. I need to protect Clementine. As long as you and I can keep going into the city to find food, I think we will be ok.'' Lee replied to Kenny. `` Whatever man. It is your call. But if the food situation keeps the way it is, I might have to take that RV and go, with or without you.'' `` You would n't really lea- woah!'' Lee exclaimed. A truck filled with food was parked in front of the motel. A short, dark haired man with glasses was talking with Lilly, who had a smile on her face, a rare sight these days. As Lee and Kenny came closer, Lilly waved to them. `` Hey guys! Look at this guy! His truck broke down just down the road. I helpe him push it out here. His name is Mark, and he is willing to give us his food in exchange for a place to stay. I think that's reasonable, do n't you?'' Kenny nodded enthusiastically. `` Hell yeah! Lets all eat tonight!'' Lee drew back apprehensively. Making sure his voice was low enough to be out of earshot to the newcomer, he said to Lilly, `` do you think this guy is alright? I do n't want to let him in if he would hurt Clementine- or Duck'' he added almost as an afterthought. `` If he so much as touches her, I am dragging him out to the forest, tying him to tree an leaving him for the walkers.'' `` Relax Lee! This guy is giving us food! We kind of need that right now! We will keep an eye on the fucker for sure, but we need to give our kids something to eat!'' Kenny said to Lee. `` I guess you're right.'' Lee replied. `` Sorry, im a bit wound up from that close save back in town. Let's let him in and get him settled in a room. Maybe he can come with Kenny and I into the city for supply runs if he is in shape.'' `` That is great thinking Lee, but I think that you guys can take the day off tomorrow. This food should last us all for about three or four weeks if we stretch it out. And I do n't mean using my rationing system, everyone would get to eat. I think it is a fair trade.'' Lilly said to Lee. The three went back over to the newcomer. Lee aske him what he was doing on the road. `` I was traveling. Keeping to the main roads mostly. My traveling friend was killed yesterday, and my truck broke down today. I thought I was a goner for sure. I did n't want to leave a truck full of food out in the open, so I started pushing it. Did n't get very far before some infected reached me. I'm glad Lilly was up on that RV of yours to save me, or I would be a dead man walking right now. Just let me know what I can do to help and I will do it to repay you guys.'' Lee looked over the makeshift fence they had constructed at Clementine. She was standing right outside, within earshot of their conversation. She looked tired. Just worn out. It might have been from malnourishment, it could be from the stresses of post-apocalyptic life. Whatever it was, Lee knew that he would do anything to protect her. And besides, having another man to be able to take guard duty shifts and supply runs seemed like a great idea. `` Alright then Mark. How about I introduce you to the rest of the people we have here? This is Clementine...''
[ WP ] The meaning of your full name now roughly translates into your super power , How would this newfound ability affect your everyday life ?	It is n't often, but sometimes people forget about me, forget to tell visitors, forget not to go near the forest after drinking. Now is one of those times. I watch the lady, Erina, from behind the tree, see her bend over to collect mushrooms from the forest's floor. She strains as she stands, her cane barely managing to support her dying body. I've seen her before, always at the edge of my domain. Maybe she came here on purpose. From what I hear of her muttering, she does n't have much to live for. An old maid, devoid of any spark in her life, sustaining herself by selling mushrooms from the woods. Anyone could gather these for themselves, but all the townspeople feel pity for her situation. The last thing I heard about her was a pair of lovebirds saying that she `` could n't last forever, could she?'' They were right. With not even a rustle of leaves or vine, my green, impish form scuttles and skips across the tree branches, leaving splotches of darkness beneath me. The lady has filled her basket to the brim, the basket itself also being near its breaking point, and she turns to leave. I vault down from a particularly springy sapling onto her back. She is stooped over, and the impact causes her to fall onto the ground. With a twisting leap, I flip over her head and land near her head. You will rest now, young one. Tiny spikes shoot from my hands into her skull as I grasp her, chemicals numbing the pains before they even occur. A rush of dopamine floods her brain, making her last moments an ecstasy even as it kills her. The last thing she sees is an image of the man she loved but never told standing before her, cradling her head in his hands. My body shudders as the first effects of the transformation take place. Within minutes, it is complete. Despite my now apparent age, I deftly weave clothing from the vegetation around me as the Earth swallows Erina. I pick up her leftover mushroom basket and begin the long walk back to town. It may not last long, but humanity is the sweetest of pleasures. Note: I generally just lurk on this sub, but I decided to write a prompt for this since I have such a strange full name which comes out as sounding like some sort of strange fae creature. Feedback is welcome, and my full name's definition is below. `` Pleasure given/beautiful/handsome'' `` Supplanter, one who replaces another'' `` One who lives near a forest''
[ WP ] Tattoos suddenly give people superpowers	Suddenly a rush of knowledge stunned Rich awake. He sat up in bed, the time was 4:22, eight minutes before his alarm would go off. Although there was nobody in his room, for he lived alone, he yelled `` I know what it all means!'' he looked at the various runes tattooed along his arms and quickly threw on his clothes. He was not going to work today. No, the world of retail could not hold him back any longer. He needed to get to a lab somewhere, and fast. He ran out his apartment door with his thin jacket facing an unusually cold Minnesota morning. The bus would n't arrive for another half hour. He thought to himself `` I ca n't wait!'' He ran down the street, flailing his arms in excitement alone in the predawn darkness only lit by orange fluorescent lights reflecting on snowbanks. Ten minutes had passed, and despite the searing pain from the cold in his lungs, he had already made it to another bus stop where he decided to wait impatiently. Once on the bus, another man noticed his excitement, and noticed the several different phrases on Rich's arms. `` I know where you are going, but I'm getting the credit first!'' The man threw a punch at Rich with a supernatural shock wave that tipped the bus, sending it rolling into the ditch. The mysterious man crashed through the window and sped off. Rich pursued, regrettably leaving the wreckage behind. He followed him under bridges and through crowded streets until they reached the university. However, Rich was too late. The man was finishing up his revelations with the department of meteorology, and about to head out the door. The researcher looked at Rich and said `` It's too late, the freeze is coming, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. ” Rich angrily ripped the 2023 calendar off the wall, and in a rage, his tattoos began to glow. The scientists shrank back in fear, while the man earlier began to run. Rich quickly grabbed him, and punched him in the face saying “ you will not profit from this! ” he threw him down, and began to manipulate the computer images showing the radar. He ran outside drawing and calling out to the sky in a strange ancient language. Then the sun which had just freshly rose from the sky shined upon the snow and ice blanketing the streets, and warmth began to return, but not for long, for Rich had sacrificed himself to prevent the next ice age, and when his tattoos glowed, he was using his love for humanity to warm the Earth, and when it was burned up, he fell to the ground in a pile of ashes, only to be swept up by a young woman with blue hair and tears in her eyes.
[ WP ] You receive a message . It reads , `` KOAN . ''	`` KOAN'' I almost drop the paper, jumping back as soon as I open it and read it. My trembling hands grasp it, holding it loosely as if it might explode. Tears well up in my eyes, my heart pounds in my chest. Slowly I open it again. `` KOAN'' The word almost screams at me. I feel its power in my head. Repeating itself over and over again, making me dizzy and nauseous. I set the paper down open, the word staring at me from my desk. `` KOAN'' I blinked and several tears fell down my cheeks. I found that I was panting, sobbing softly. I put my hands on my temples and stared down at the word. I just could n't believe my eyes... ( `` Run, Kyle!'' She screamed at me, the building collapsing around us. The fire was spreading wildly, eating everything it touched. She was trapped under a beam. How cliche, but I was trying to pull her out. I heard a wicked laugh echo around us and knew I had to hurry. But she was stuck pretty good. Her eyes tearing up, her face covered in ash. `` I will not leave you here, Susan.'' `` Kyle, if you do n't we will both be killed.'' -CRASH- Another beam fell right next to me, almost trapping me under it. `` Go Kyle, now!'' She pushed me away hard. I tried to go back but the fire cut me off from her. I heard that wicked laugh again. I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face. I turned and ran, bursting out of the building. I turned in time to watch it crumble down on itself. I heard her scream and then... nothing. Above the door I had just burst through, in large block letters, the fire consumed the word `` KOAN'' ) `` KOAN'' Memories of that day flooded my mind. Her screams piercing through the night. KOAN, the company that killed my wife. Happy April Fools, whoever sent this message. I could almost hear his wicked laugh as I stared down at the word. `` KOAN''
[ WP ] Turns out that teleporters really do just kill you and make a copy . You 're in the afterlife , being judged on your life ; which consist entirely of being beamed down , completing a mission and beaming out .	St. Peter ran his finger down his Great Book, finding Gene-832's entry, reading, `` So, you were born April 2nd, 2322 in the Year of Our Lord, at 11:32 AM EST, in front of Mrs. Worth's abode on Third Street and Ninth, Chicago, Illinois, United States of America, Earth?'' `` Ah, yes, sir,'' Gene-832 said. `` That would be the short of it. No pun intended.'' St. Peter waved a dismissing hand. `` Get it all the time,'' he said with a chuckle. `` Livens up the eternal days. In fact, you should have been here when George Carlin came through.'' `` The profane comedian? In Heaven?'' `` God loves a good roast. Keeps him humble.'' `` Wow,'' Gene-832 said. `` So, what else is there in that book?'' `` Not much else, actually,'' St. Peter said. `` The queue to the Pearly Gates has increased exponentially since teleporting came about on the mortal plane.'' The white-bearded Saint looked up over the book to Gene-832. `` Seen more than a few of your, er, twins come through here.'' `` So...'' Gene-832 looked past St. Peter, into Heaven beyond the Pearly Gates. `` I'm going to run into... me... in there?'' `` If,'' St. Peter reminded him, then flipped a few pages in his book. `` Not all of you have made it through. Some of you have taken the low road, so to speak.'' `` Hell?'' St. Peter nodded sadly. Gene-832 scratched at his head. `` I'm not sure what to say to my other selves, up here or down there.'' St. Peter chuckled, a pleasant sound. `` Not to worry, Gene-832. God's got that one figured out. You'll be merged back into your original soul, who is...'' St. Peter checked his book again. `` Oh dear.'' `` Oh shi -- I mean, that's bad, is n't it, Saint, uh... sir?'' `` Indeed.'' St. Peter looked up at Gene-832. `` Seems as if the original Gene is currently residing on the fifth level of Hell.'' `` But --'' `` Har,'' St. Peter said, again waving his had in dismissal. `` You're not going to pay for the original's sin, Gene-832. Like I said before, some of the ones like you made it into Heaven, and you'll be joined with them in one soul.'Good Gene'.'' `` Oh man,'' Gene-832 said. `` That's a relief to -- I'M GOING TO HEAVEN?!!!'' `` Yes, Gene-832,'' St. Peter said. `` In your brief lifetime, you helped an elderly woman out, and got her cat out from a tree.'' St. Peter nodded, then closed his book. `` A brief but noble life, Gene-832.'' The Pearly Gates swung open, and holy light shone through. `` Sweet!'' Gene-832 said, and went into the light and eternal paradise. The gates closed. `` Next, please!'' St. Peter called. It was Gene-833. `` That was quick,'' St. Peter noted. `` I went to the store and got some beer,'' Gene-832. `` Then I got back into the teleporter, and, poof, here I am.'' `` Was it good beer, at least?'' St. Peter asked. `` No, not really, sir,'' Gene-833 replied. `` Some Bud Light and pretzels.'' He looked back the way he had come. `` I hope they were worth it.'' `` Sadly, no,'' St. Peter told this Gene after checking an unseen watch. `` Looks like the last Gene is due this way quite soon.'' `` Oh?'' `` Yes,'' St. Peter observed through the ethereal. `` Seems Gene-834 is choking on a pretzel.''
[ WP ] Shock value on TV has lost all meaning , so in a sick shock twist , in a battle to be the 'next big thing ' , one channel has decided to air the live last moments and suicide of one volunteer . The show airs at 10:30pm , it is now 10:29 ...	Through the door of the office of CNN's CEO, muffled shouting can be heard. The intern looked up at the clock, which read 10:29. `` IT'S NOT OK, YOU CA N'T SHOW A MAN DYING!'' `` Harry, he consented to it,'' `` Bullst he did! You still ca n't air it! That man was my friend,'' `` Look Harry, ratings are down. We've got to get the shock factor back! This is the best way to do it. People are already tuning in, see?'' A view counter sat on the desk, and the numbers ticked up. `` We've got to make money so how,'' the CEO said. Harry looked at the counter shocked as the numbers clocked into the millions. `` This will show up on your bonus Harry! Think of all of that extra cash.'' Harry looked up at the CEO, this man he only moments ago, had held with the highest respect. He stared him in the eyes, and calmly said `` Fk you.'' The CEO only nodded. Harry turned, and left, slamming the door behind him. The intern came into the office, and the clock read 10:30. It was live.
[ WP ] It 's the weekly night for Monopoly . The players are Odin , Ra , Zeus and Vishnu .	`` oh'' said Zeus in a sarcastic voice `` you have to go to Jail Odin, Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars.'' `` I hate this game, why are we even playing it?'' Odin responded. `` I do n't Know.'' Ra said `` I wanted to play Settlers of Cataan.'' `` We do n't fucking Know the Rules to Settlers of Cataan Ra, you are the only one who does.'' `` Okay, okay everyone just calm down.'' Vishnu said `` The Cable is out, and we lost our netflix subscription. It'll be back next week once I get my paycheck. For now, lets just finish this game.'' `` Why are we even doing that? No one is having any fun except this fucker.'' screamed Odin, clearly getting red in the face as he gestured towards Zeus. `` look,'' said Vishnu `` We all compromised, I said lets play monopoly, you said that was fine. I wanted to play the Nintendo 64.'' `` The only game we have that all of us can play is Mario Party and that is like this but somehow worse'' Said Ra. `` Are we gon na finish this game or....'' `` Do n't we have a DVD or something.'' Said Odin cutting off Zeus. `` I mean seriously this game sucks.'' `` We've seen everything we have here a hundred times.'' Said Ra as he leaned back. `` Come on guys ca n't we at least...'' Zeus started to say before being cut off again. `` Zeus I think we all know you won.'' Snapped Vishnu. Zeus seemed to deflate at this a little bit. `` Great.'' Said Odin as he stood up and put on a jacket. `` I'm going out.'' `` It's two in the afternoon Odin and we do n't have any money.'' `` I DO N'T CARE!'' he said as he slammed the door behind him.
[ WP ] You 're the only real person in the world . Everyone else is a robot .	Oil and copper. That's what she tasted like. It was never the cold metallic lips that got to him, or the firmness of her biceps -but the taste, the foul residue left in his mouth after each time he kissed Hanna. Jim sighed, holding his head in hands as he pondered over the last few years on Mars. Hanna sat quietly next to him, her back panel lay open awaiting the next input of manual code. He'd been one of many to volunteer for the project, a research system developed by NASA to test if humans and A.I could co-exist. It was a safety protocol more than anything else, a measure that had to be taken before introducing A.I on earth. All of the others- humans - had passed on, with the last lady - Gloria - having happened only a few months prior. She was lucky enough to be taken by old age. Most of the young recruits were taken by the space illness, disease that had never been seen on earth before. Once NASA understood the risks they cut all ties with Project M. Jim sat still, listening to the last video recording as it played again in the background. The young scientist on screen explained the risks and how they'd all be remembered for their efforts and reassuring that their families would be taken care of. ...
[ WP ] Two friends are meeting at a high school reunion . They have not seen each other in 10 years . One of them is a congressman , the other one is a recovering heroin addict . The reader does not know which one is which .	The music brought back fond memories, but Drew had to excuse himself. It also brought back some painful memories; the same memories that pushed his graduation back 2 years. He had n't noticed how small a high school student was until then; the urinal seemed almost comically small. He surveyed the rest of the bathroom to assess his privacy and discovered that he was not alone. On the other side of the bathroom was his old friend Andy, looking straight at him. `` Long time, no see, Andy. How have you been?'' Drew smiled insincerely at his old friend. `` Oh, you know. My friends finally helped me get through her death. I'm working on changing things now. There's an organization I'm working with that cleans up needles. I still ca n't help but feel responsible for what happened, you know?'' `` Andy, neither of us could have done anything about that. We were both going through a rough time and she was out of control. It really sucks, what happened. But you ca n't blame yourself.'' `` Drew, it's not that I blame myself, but that I ca n't stand aside and let those things happen again.'' Andy's fists clenched and his brow furrowed. Drew dismissively began to wash his hands. `` You might blame yourself, but I've moved on.'' He looked back up to his old friend, but found once more his reflection.
[ WP ] An adult who had died trying to survive against all odds and a kid who commits suicide meet in the afterlife .	Even dead, Ellis walked with a limp. He did n't dare examine his left leg after the landmine: the smell of burnt sausage persuaded him against looking down. This was a good thing. Had Ellis looked down, he would have seen his leg as a bloody mess of frayed tendrils, scarred and discoloured from gangrene. Ellis stopped and surveyed the area. The afterlife was n't what he had expected. The land was coarse marble, no real ground to speak of. It was undulating and rose and fell constantly, so that he could never see more than half a mile in one direction. There were no markers of note, no flora or fauna, just an uneven marble landscape under a sky sinister with storm clouds. It was a bitch to cross with a disheveled leg. Ellis felt his hip for a flask. He wanted something to drink, something to splash on himself, but his hip was bare and his pockets were empty. A force of habit was all it was anyway: there was no thirst to be felt here. Ellis closed his eyes and twirled, his finger sticking outwards. With no stars above, this was no world for a cartographer, but Ellis was confident he was pointing north when he opened his eyes. He sighed and ambled north, cursing every time he step down his left leg. You did n't need to shave in the afterlife, reflected D. His upper lip still wore the same shadow of a moustache six months on. It was a small perk, but he was grateful for it. He enjoyed few enough perks on Earth, so he knew to be thankful. He could see a man nearing. A soldier, judging by the limp. D stood still as he approached, a ghost in place ghosts called home. The soldier craned his neck up, and when he saw D he burst into a mad dash, ignoring his wounded leg. `` I knew I would n't be alone. I knew it'' he cried. D looked at him blankly. `` Dammit, I knew it'' he repeated. The soldier thrust out his hand. His face was a portrait of ecstasy. D felt sorry for him. The plane was so vast, the soldier could have walked it for two thousand years and they never would have met. D did n't want to see him crushed, but he knew there would be no alternative. `` I ’ m Ellis. Ellis Button'' Ellis Button said. His hand was still outstretched. His face was still aglow. `` I'm D. Just D ” D said. D took Ellis ’ s hand and shook it gingerly. `` I've been here about two days I reckon'' began Ellis. `` I do n't know. I do n't know what to make of any of this'' he said, waving his hand in a grand theatrical gesture. `` I heard my foot step on a landmine and I felt a bullet scathe my back, but I guess the landmine got me, huh?'' D did n't comment. Ellis ’ s death, the most important thing to happen to Ellis since his birth, bored him greatly. D was about as excitable as a glass of lukewarm milk. Ellis ’ s grin flickered. Easy, he thought, the kid ’ s only about fourteen. `` So what ’ s your story, D?'' D lifted his head up. His throat had been sliced, many times. Ellis was n't an expert, but guessed D had been slashed with a razor blade. He squinted. The angle made the cuts look self-inflicted. D dropped his head back down. He did n't speak. For a long time neither did Ellis. Ellis thought of his last waking moments. Of his comrades screaming his name, of how they had gone out, expecting to die. Of how the battle came to a hiatus and for ten minutes it looked like they might live. They were willing to give their lives, but they were n't willing to give their families lives. But D? Was this how bad things had gotten back home? D did n't think of anything. He just wished Ellis would leave. He had an idea. “ Keep going the way you were going ” he said. “ North? ” “ Yeah, north. Just keep going north, you ’ ll run into everybody else ”. “ How do you know? ” Ellis asked. “ Everyone goes north ” “ Are n't you going to come? ” D shook his head. `` Someone has to tell people to go north'' he explained. Ellis looked at D momentarily. He saw a simple face that could only handle one concern at a time. Ellis gave him a military salute and turned to leave. They both looked onwards.
[ WP ] OK Reddit , you 're the President/Leader of a country that is announcing your country is entering a war that history will recount as World War III , what is your speech that will ( ultimately/figuratively ) go down in history ?	Citizens, soldiers, mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers. I stand before you today to give a speech that I have only seen in my worst nightmares. A vision that exists for many as a point of glory, but for me and my cabinet, the worst-case-scenario. I want to be direct and transparent with my words and what they will mean for us, as a country, moving forward. We are going to war. Historically, war has been fought for many reasons that sit outside of the direct need for survival. Political muscle, economic interests, and leadership legacy have been unspoken staples that have tacked the banner of `` war'' onto countless country's agendas. I desire none of these. When you elected me it was on the premise of honesty, and a harkening back to the foundations of democracy -- the voice of the people -- and building our national infrastructure without getting tangled in the mess of the outside world. Sadly, the day has come where that mess has begun to grow through our doors. The essence of life on this planet, water, has not been a scarce commodity for us. Because of our nation's wealth we have been able to survive, better than most, in a time where people are dying on catastrophic scales for something that we considered plentiful and regular. Carelessly, we have used up this gift from the planet without considering `` what happens next.'' Leaders are never elected because of issues that might come 10 years down the line, or even 5. Leaders are elected on the pre-existing problems of the time. The whispers of water-shortage could barely be heard through the shouts of economic reform and international aid when I ran for office all those years ago. So, here we are. Our nation is in a state of dehydration, and we will soon wither if we do n't act. There have been long term solutions that we were excited to execute, but the world seems to have other plans for us. We are under attack for our vast reservoirs of a national resource. To survive, we must fight, or we will die. Make no mistake -- we are staring at the end if we do not act -- and act we must. We will not emerge from this unscathed, but we will emerge victorious. One you accept that initial shock of loss the quicker we will be able to triumph over it. Join me, not as your President, not as your Commander-in-Chief, but as your neighbor and protector. I will not relinquish these grounds, and I will not relinquish my people to the tides of destruction.
[ WP ] [ RF ] 2019 : The United States have changed tactics for their war in the Middle East . After Congress fails to authorize military activity in 2015 the troops returned home , and the nation relaxed . Meanwhile , ISIS and American spies began a high tech spy game not seen since the Cold War ...	`` As-Salaam-Alaikum, sir'', Yasir said as the man turned towards the door. `` Wa-Alaikum-Salaam, Yasir. Hopefully when we meet again, the world will be a better place.'' And with that he left. Yasir leaned back in his chair, balancing on the hind legs until he fell far enough back that the cold concrete wall behind him kept him from crashing to the floor. He could n't believe it was finally all going to come to an end. It was n't too long ago that another troop resurgence was seriously being considered. `` What a waste that would have been'', he thought. `` Countless lives thrown away. All because some barbarians could n't see that the world was changing.'' And to think, he had been so close to becoming one of those whom he now despised. Brainwashed into believing the rhetoric and propaganda. `` How naive had I been?'' Yasir decided to get outside and get some air. He had been cooped up in that concrete box of a room all day and the air was stale with stench of sweat, and the heat of the region. His ride would be here shortly. From there, it was six hour drive to the next safe house. He began to reflect on the long road he had already traveled. It was n't too long ago that he was just another regular student at A & M. He had always done well in school, above average grades, but never reached the top of his class. That's what made it so strange that he, of all people, would have been approached by the man he now called his friend. Surely there were other students in his own class that would have been better suited. Three of his peers had even been nominated for the Tom W. Bonner award. It was not unnatural for him to wonder why him? What made him so special? Questions he was starting to realize he may never have answers to. As dusk settled and the air began to cool he saw the first set of headlights approaching from the distance. Now was the time, there was no turning back. Yasir walked casually to the back of the safe house. He opened the small equipment shed at the back of the house and took out the 9mm glock the man had left there. In it's place he left the RFID chip he had removed from his thigh, and a handwritten note. A final thought for a world that would begin anew after the events of tomorrow morning unfolded. Completing the final preparations to the plan they had discussed just hours before in that small concrete room, he moved back through the safe house and out the front door. That's when he noticed it. The sound, faint and in the distance. Not coming from the approaching vans, but instead from... something else. He turned to head back towards the safe house door when it all went black.
[ WP ] -Write a short story from this quote .	At the beginning of each mission I motivated myself by building up the importance of it. By building the difficulty. By challenging myself with the absurdity of its accomplishment. The missions I found were not easy, but they also were n't earth shatteringly important either. I attained records in my field. Later I changed the business model of an industry. I drove others to success. Something happened after my last mission. It was the first time I had been let go. Regardless of the success. Regardless of the impact I made. My purpose was taken from me. I looked around and chose a new purpose. I spent a couple years spinning my wheels and failed. Now I am floating. I am somehow content without fulfillment. I have passion for society, but not for myself. I miss purpose.
[ WP ] Write a really great story that ends so anticlimatically that I hate you .	It was agony I felt like my insides were being stabbed, sweat poured off my brow. I was being tortured while people meer feet from me sat there laughing in my face. I try to steel my resolve, to not let them see how the torture is getting to me. How after hours and hours of suffering I feel like I am going to die, how I just want it to end. I start break and squirm as I feel whatever they gave me starting to poison my insides. I double over and let out a loud scream, everything stops. I farted at Denny's.
[ WP ] Some years ago it was discovered that love is a measurable quantity . Many countries have since deemed it mandatory for couples to prove their love prior to marriage . A couple who are together only to qualify for asylum wait to be audited , and desperately try to fall in love .	Sunday Night `` Kiss me.'' `` No.'' He looked at her. Begging. `` How else are we --?'' She cut him off. `` That's not love.'' `` Do n't you want to kiss me?'' `` I do.'' `` Then why do n't you?'' She thought for a second. `` Love should n't be born out of necessity. Love is about admiring a blossom's beauty enough to let it become a flower. A caterpillar could not become a butterfly if not for the time spent in the cocoon.'' `` Ok,'' He turned his head up `` let's just look at the stars.'' Ryan and Melanie sat on a blanket under a night sky. In two days they would either be married or sent back to their war-torn home, where death would be imminent. All they had to do to save their lives was fall in love. `` Tell me about your parents.'' He hated silence. `` Why?'' `` You can learn a lot about somebody by how they speak about their parents.'' `` My father owned a bakery but could n't bake to save his life. The old man was worthless next to an oven. My mom made everything. He liked seeing people smile while they ate her food. I suppose I did too.'' `` Are they still alive?'' `` No.'' `` My parents were --'' `` I did n't ask.'' She cut him off once more, `` I'm sorry, every time I hear another name that fell to the Yassine Regime... it kills me inside.'' `` It's ok. We can look at the stars.'' And look they did. And when minutes turned into hours he reached out his hand for hers. Slowly, she intertwined her fingers with his. Saying nothing. Monday Morning He'd never woken up next to a woman before. Girls yes, but no one quite like her. The light from the window tapped dance on her nose. He could n't stop staring at it. `` I can feel your eyes.'' He jumped back. `` I'm sorry, I I I --'' `` Do n't apologize, it's cute.'' `` My father told me something once, when I was a kid.'' `` And what was that?'' `` That if you looked into someone's eyes long enough, you'd know everything about them. And if you liked what you saw, you'd be in love. `` Ok let's try.'' She spun over. He had never realized how blue her eyes were. They were like an eternal ice. Ethereal, capable of remaining untouched over thousands of years. And here they were staring back at him. She blinked but it only drove him mad. Each millisecond spent without her gaze was a wasted one. She reached out to him in a way that was unspoken. Now! He thought. Now is the perfect time to kiss. He readied himself. `` Well that was rubbish.'' She laughed. `` Oh well, worth a try.'' `` Yeah,'' he cursed himself, `` stupid''. `` Let's get moving, we have some falling in love to do.'' She danced around in her sundress unaware that he already had. Monday Night They went to an arcade. The lights reminded them of their childhood, a time when bright red flashes did n't stand for incoming missiles, or an invading army, or anything other than the start of a new game. She smiled the whole time, except when he picked up a plastic gun and jokingly pointed it at her. `` No,'' she said, `` anything but that.'' She got quiet after that, but a good quiet. The type of quiet someone only gets when they're thinking. They walked next to the pier. He thought of something good to say. When that did n't work he said the thing that had been stuck on his mind. `` Have you been in love before?'' `` Yes,'' her body answered before her mind did, `` he was older than me. A lot older. He taught math at my high school. I would go in for tutoring everyday even though I never needed it.'' `` Did you ever kiss him.'' `` No.'' `` You loved a man you never kissed?'' `` Some say that's the only way to truly love a man.'' She said it with such a smile. And got so close to him their noses nearly touched. She liked keeping men at a distance. It's where they were meant to be. The night drew on as he fell farther into her spell. Tuesday Morning In three hours. The test would come. And His and Her fate will be sealed. He looked at her, as she laid on her side, no doubt dreaming of some horrid tapestry. No way could someone be calm at time like this. `` You smell nice.'' Again he jumped back. `` Remind me to borrow your toothpaste sometime.'' Maybe she did love him. `` What do you want to do, before the test?'' `` Lie here and let the blossoms grow.'' And so they did. And in the blink of an eye. There was a rapid knocking on the door. Men ascended the staircase. Ready to confirm or deny their fate. Right as they were about to barge into the room. He held her hair and looked into those blue eyes. `` I'm sorry.'' And then he kissed her. And to him it lasted centuries. He saw the beginning and end of the universe, watching it wrap in on itself. Then the men came in. They were separated and he was subject to a test. After five minutes his worker looked back at him. `` You love her.'' `` I know.'' Truthfully he had known for awhile. `` Where is she?'' `` If she loves you, she'll walk through that door but if she does n't you'll see my comrade, who will explain how your deportation will work.'' And so he waited. Until he saw the handle turn.
[ WP ] All The Time Pizza will deliver to you anywhere , any time - literally . Time Travelling delivery drivers just got an order from history 's worst customer , and its the new guys turn to take it there ... .	`` I have your large pepperoni pizza that will be $ 100 please.'' said Joe the delivery guy. `` Thank god your here: gasps Mike. `` My boat capsized and I need a ride to the shore'' `` I am sorry it is ageist our policy to have passengers in our vehicles while we are working'' `` Please! I have a wife and children they need me to provide for them.'' `` Really? I have a wife and children; they also count on me to provide for them. But, I ca n't very well provide for them if I am out of a job now can I'' `` Can you at least take a message to them for me'' begs Mike. `` Oh yeah! my friend Greg did that once. Now he is in prison for life. just pay me take your pizza and have a good day'' remarks Joe. `` I'll die here if you do n't help me.'' `` Not my problem $ 100 dollars please.'' `` I do n't have any money I lost it in my boat.'' `` No money, no pizza.'' In a zip, Joe and the pizza are gone. Mike stands in shock and rage as his only hope for rescue is now gone. `` I'll show them'' he thinks. He again opens the Quantum Pizza app on his phone and proceeds to write a alarmingly bad review about the service in their comment section. Shortly after pressing the post button Mike is met by a man in a suit and tie. `` Are you mike?'' the man asks. `` Who wants to know?'' replies Mike not wanting to miss this opportunity for rescue. The man looks at Mike and says,'' I am sorry, I am supposed to rescue a guy named mike. It looks like I have the wrong place.'' In a panic Mike screams, `` its me I am Mike. Thank you for coming back.'' The man reaches in to his pocket pulls out a letter and hands it to Mike saying `` Mike you've been served.'' In a zip the man is gone. Mike opens the letter to see he is being sued by the Quantum Pizza company for slander.
[ WP ] You are a famous ( and secretly fraudulent ) psychic that has been kidnapped by the government to create and train a generation of psychic soldiers for the military .	I stride into my office to prepare for the next day's lesson. When I arrive, my assistant waves me down. `` There's a student here to see you, sir.'' `` Are n't they not supposed to get here until tomorrow?'' I ask. `` Yes, but this one got the wrong date somehow.'' `` Alright, send him in.'' A young man walks into the room and closes the door behind him. `` I'm sorry I'm here early sir, I do n't know what happened'' `` I do.'' He narrows his eyes at me. After looking deep into my eyes for a moment, he states `` You're not psychic''. I nod, and clear my throat. `` Honestly, son, your early arrival was n't a mistake. I needed to be alone with you before the other students arrived. I'm here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative''
[ WP ] The Grim Reaper is always portrayed as an evil , dark figure who drags souls to the afterlife , but that 's not true . He just did n't want you to be lonely at your final hour .	My ride into the underworld was making me thirsty, so I stopped for some Gatorade the first chance I saw. In front of the convenience store sat another cargo bicycle. I recognized it as a `` bakfiets,'' with a long wooden box just behind the front wheel. The entire bike was brightly painted, with flowers and butterflies on the cargo box. Attached to the box's front edge were a glittering pinwheel and a chromed bicycle horn with a red bulb. A rainbow-colored nylon canopy covered the box. A pair of clips screwed to the left side held something that looked like a scythe, except that it had an orange handle and a yellow plastic blade so flimsy that light shone through it. It could have come from a dollar-store Halloween costume rack. Just then, a woman emerged from the store, clutching a bottle of iced tea. She was somewhat heavyset, and dressed in an unzipped jet-black hoodie over a floral-print blouse and pink slacks. `` Your bike?'' I asked. She nodded. `` It's nice. What brings you down here?'' She looked puzzled for a moment, as if she did n't understand the question. Then a light went on. `` It's for work. I have the saddest job in the underworld. I'm Kim.'' She handed me a card from her blouse pocket. I looked at the card. `` K. Reaper, youth intake coordinator.'' It took me a moment. Then it hit me. She did indeed have the saddest job in the underworld. `` So... you bring children into the underworld? That's not the theology I grew up with.'' `` Oh, they do n't stay with us. Never. We bring them in, process their paperwork, and send them straight Above. Look at this little guy I have here,'' she said, drawing back the canopy. Nestled on a thick pile of blankets lay a sleeping baby, no more than four months old. `` Crib death. It just breaks my heart to take him away from his mommy, but we ca n't leave his little soul lost in that cold world. They have a fantastic pediatric staff Above. They'll make sure he never, ever suffers again.'' The baby stirred, and started to cry a little. Kim reached into a bag on the back of her bike, and pulled out a plush rabbit. She gave the small windup key in its back a dozen twists, and lay the rabbit next to the baby. The tinkling sound of the music box soothed the baby back to sleep within moments. `` Listen,'' she said, `` I need to get this little fella delivered. It was great meeting you. Stop by the office and say'hi' sometime while you're in the Realm.'' `` I will, Kim,'' I replied. She mounted the bakfiets and kicked off.
[ WP ] Recover an idea/concept	I knew when I asked the question I'd get an odd reaction, but this is n't really the one I was expecting. The woman, a Theresa Espinoza, is a hard-faced one wearing modern glasses and a gray business suit. Her office is small and cramped but neatly organized. She had taken down my name and information on a yellow legal pad and had asked me what it was she wanted me to recover. And now she was staring at me as if I was crazy. `` You want me to recover your virginity?'' I nod, blushing brighter than a teacher's apple. I fold my hands in my lap and feel my knees pressing together, as if I could hide being a woman. `` See...'' I coyly hold out my left hand, and the room gets brighter. `` I'm getting married in a month. My fiance and I... well, we're Christians, see. We love each other, so so much, and we've been waiting until we get married. Or at least, he did.'' Her eyes are blank and steady, but she says nothing, which makes me squirm even more. `` Look, it says on your sign that you can recover anything, so I guess I just thought... I do n't know that if there was some sort of... something...'' I pull my hand back as I realize it's shaking. `` I guess I was desperate.'' `` I should n't.'' I blink at her. `` Should n't?'' `` Did you expect me to say that I ca n't? Of course I can. The sign, as you say, says I can recover anything. And I can. If you want me to recover your virginity, I could. But I should n't.'' I'm suddenly leaning on the edge of my seat. `` But... how?'' She shakes her head. `` You do n't ask how. You just accept it or do n't. For a fee, by this time tomorrow, your virginity can be recovered. But I'm saying it should n't be.'' `` Why not? It was such a mistake... I love Brad so much, so very very much. And I was so young when I lost it the first time. Only fourteen... can you believe that? I did n't know what I was doing. He was two years older than me, and we'd been drinking and it just seemed right. And I know lots of girls say the first time is awful, but for me it was... well, it was wonderful. I slept with him lots after that, a whole year of my life until we broke up.'' I look down to see I'm swirling my the ring around and around on my finger. `` He did n't treat me very well. And now when Brad thinks we'll be going on this journey of pleasure and love together, to enjoy what God gave us, it will all be a lie.'' `` Does he love you?'' I blink. `` Well, yes.'' `` And you love him?'' `` Yes.'' `` You love him because of who he is, do n't you? You appreciate his qualities and tolerate his weaknesses and you envision a future together.'' I nod. `` If I recover your virginity, you wo n't be the same person. You are able to appreciate your fiance for who he is in part because of your experience as a teenager. Without that experience, you might not remember why you love this Brad person. Or why he's so great. Or why you should be marrying him.'' She clicks her pen and leaned forward to stare at me even more intently. `` Furthermore, he might not love you as much either. You will change, and he might not love that version of you. Each person is a collection of their choices - the mistakes, and the repentance. All of it.'' She picks up the pen and poises to write again. `` Do you want me to recover your virginity?'' I feel like another person when I whisper `` No.'' When she smiles, it makes me lighter. I laugh away the stress and stand up, taking her hands. `` Thank you. Thank you so much. `` I turn to leave, when a question floats into my mind. `` Do I... should I tell him?'' She is already hard at work on something else and grunts in irritation. `` I'm not your therapist. Good day, miss.''
[ WP ] all `` walks into a bar '' jokes happen in the same bar . you 're the bartender .	`` So a priest, a rabbi, and a horse walked into my bar last night,'' the bartender said to his friend. `` Ooh, I love these kinds of jokes,'' his buddy said, muting the football game, scooting to the edge of the couch excitedly. `` What joke? I was talking about work,'' replied the bartender. `` They're regulars. Paul, Jacob, and Charlie. Charlie's the horse, but he does n't like calling attention to it, he tends to get upset about it'' `` Oh, my bad,'' apologized the friend. After a sullen pause, a smile quietly formed on his lips. `` So did you ask Charlie the horse,'Why the long face?' he said, stifling a chuckle. `` Well, no,'' the bartender said, slightly annoyed. `` Why would I say something rude to one of my regular customers?'' `` Geez dude, nevermind,'' said the friend. `` Did he at least gallop in, say'hey' and then you brought him a bale of hay?'' asked the friend, trying to salvage the conversation, his eyes wandering to the game in the background. `` No, Charlie always gets a gin & tonic,'' replied the bartender, exasperatedly. `` I do n't know what crazy ideas you have about my job, but I'm just a typical ol' bartender. Sure, we get some pretty unusual clientele once in a while, but they do n't cause a fuss. A couple times a week, we'll get a few ducks, seals, various religious figures, assorted wild animals. Once the entire team of the Harlem Globetrotters came in with the Pope and a trained bear.'' `` Oh, I guess that's kinda cool,'' said the friend, feigning interest, eyes fixed back on the game. `` So you do n't play along with all the jokey situations?'' `` I mean, at the end of the day these people, animals, and giant robots come into my bar to relax and grab a drink. If they want a witty comment, I'll help out, no problem. When Steve comes in, I always say to him,'Hey, we have a drink named after you!' cause I know it helps his game. Steve is a grasshopper, by the way. But most my customers just want to be left alone to do their own thing.'' `` Ok, I guess that makes sense,'' the friend replied, turning the sound back on, fully engrossed in the football game. `` I just thought it'd be hilarious to work there or there'd be some awesome perks or something...'' `` Well,'' the bartender replied, `` we do get some pretty attractive nuns into the bar once in a while.''
[ EU ] A small squad of clone troopers under the lead of a single Jedi , willingly refuse to comply to Order 66 , and take revenge on all those who did .	`` Spit it out!'' shouted the commander as he ducked behind a plasmasteel container for cover. He fired off a few rounds of his blaster rifle as the next in command bobbed and weaved his way to him. `` Sir, I... There must be some mistake,'' said Grimey, rechecking his handheld holodisk. The rest of the troop continued to blast away at the seemingly endless rain of enemies. The troopers must've been outnumbered five to one. That's the way the missions always were, though. No used in complaining. In this case, the troopers were tasked on a somewhat confidential mission to retrieve certain documents from the planet of Nar Shadda. Everything had gone smoothly. Except for the situation they now found themselves in, of course. The massive warehouse they were in was suppose to be their extraction point. But their small covert ship was grounded in one of the hangers by one of the many mercenary groups that littered the planet. Their Jedi leader had informed them be at the warehouse and have the ship prepped for launch in less than half an hour from now. `` Listen, Grimey,'' said the commander, Vince, `` I heard the sound our communicator made. A direct order just came in from high command. Something important is being relayed to us and you need to fucking tell me what it is!'' `` Ahh --!'' said Tork, as he dropped to the ground. `` Tork! Fucking A, if you ca n't tell me then at least cover me Grimey!'' said Vince as he dash out from his cover. The mercenaries continued to fire but Vince made it to Tork without getting vaporized. `` Where ya hit man?'' `` Ah they got me right in ma shootin' arm Vince! Fuck!'' Tork clutched his right arm as smoke from the cauterized wound rose. Vince smiled. `` The Force be damned you had me worried for a sec, haha! Now c'mon, do n't be such a puss.'' Vince slung Tork over his arm and carefully dragged him to where Grimey was, making sure not to poke his head too high. The other Clone Troopers were still prime hitters and were dropping mercenaries like dirt on a Talassian motorcade. `` They're still coming, boss,'' said Grimey, disbelieving. `` We're part of the Imperial Clone Troopers, let them fucking come,'' barked Vince. Suddenly another voice came on their audio channel. `` Heya this is Mrov'k, listen according to the IRV channel routes this is the last wave of shitheads in this wing. Once these dudes get dropped, our best bet is to rush in the corridor and get to the hanger. Once there I can force the durasteel doors to shut and they'll be stuck on the other side.'' `` I assume Maro can make it in somehow?'' questioned Vince, already realizing the answer. `` She's a Jedi; she'll find a way.'' `` Okay, sounds good, when the last of these guys get blasted, give us the word and we'll rush the corridor.'' `` Mrov'k, over and out,'' the transmission ended. `` Everyone heard that!'' shouted Vince over his own channel. Various confirmations came in. `` Good!'' Vince threw Tork on his back and steadied himself. Eventually Mrov'k gave the signal and their plan went off without a hitch. It was n't long before they ended up in the hanger. `` I heard the girls here were rough but damn!'' said Rico, as the squad settled in their getaway ship and activated its systems. `` Fucking funny guy this Rico,'' said Tork. `` I got hit with a blaster because you did n't cover me.'' `` I was doing plenty of covering my friend...'' Their conversation trailed off as they left the bridge of the ship. The ship itself was a medium sized frigate, could hold 32 people comfortably. Their squad had twelve in it, not including the Jedi. Vince was at the front of the bridge with Grimey, out of earshot of everyone else. `` I hope Maro comes in soon because I am able ready to shit my way off this planet,'' said Vince, not exactly sure what he meant. `` Vince,'' said Grimey, `` about the transmission.'' `` By the stars of Gondor, nearly forgot about that! Damnit Grimey I told you that was a priority message! I shouldn've immediately acknowledged! Grimey if I lose a strip because of this --'' `` Sir, the transmission was a direct order for us to execute Order 66.'' `` What?'' said Vince, increduous. `` This is a direct order from the Supreme Chancellor himself, sir. There are no mechanisms for rescidining this order, nor any requirements to authenicate it with any command authority. We are compelled to to eliminate the Jedi. Not detain or, if necessary, eliminate them. We are, as of now, mandated to fully erase them with lethal force.'' Vince had never seen Grimey so dead serious. And they had been in some serious Rancor shit before. `` I-I.. But it does n't make any sense. Does it Grimey?'' Vince rubbed his forehead. `` It does n't need to make sense,'' Grimey said, looking away for a moment then locking eyes again. `` When Maro steps on this ship, we need to execute her.'' Just then the doors to the bridge opened and in stepped Maro. She was n't more than five foot five but it was clear she could do a lot of damage, if you know what I mean, hiyo. `` Sorry I'm late,'' she said, expectantly. `` I've got the stuff let's go.'' Grimey looked at Vince and nodded over to her direction. `` Vin, you know as well as I do we've got to this.'' A single word could n't leave Vince's mouth. Maro took a seat at the bridge and began tapping away at the computer interface. Grimey walked to her then stood behind her. He gave Vince a look. A somber look. `` Grimey, hold on a sec, let's think about this,'' Vince began taking long strides to reach them. `` There's nothing to think about,'' said Grimey, his expression intensifying yet his voice remaining calm. `` Ooh, trouble in paradise,'' said Maro jokingly, eyes still fixed on the screen in front of her. Grimey reached for his side pistol but Vince managed to grab his forearm before he could pull it out. `` Damnit Grimey! It's about time you open the door! Get on the floor!'' Maro flung herself over the chair, ignited her twin lightsabers and roared, `` everybody walk the dinosaur!'' Suddenly the entire bridge imploded because of the incredible 1990s reference from another galaxy and caused the entirety of the galaxy to collapse on itself.
[ wp ] a hit goes unexpectedly wrong	I took a long drag on the joint, giving way to fit of coughing. I have't smoked much since I took the job, but I suppose that is what happens when you grow up. I puff puff pass to Mr. William Richter, suddenly feeling very stoned. It's funny, he does n't look much like the pictures from the folder. He has a lot more hair now. `` Hey, thanks for smoking me up Will.'' I say as I walk for my car. He looks confused for a second, and I realize he never gave me a name. Man, he has no idea how close he came.
[ WP ] You have been enjoying Life in Heaven for over 100 Years and then suddenly , you wake up on a hospital bed ... .	I pushed the ringing headaches away and continued to enjoy the endless buffet that was laid before me, but with every succulent bite of pork and every sweet mouthful of wine the noise grew. I become more aware of what was going on in my head i could hear voices, a male and female, Discussing me. i listened but could only make out snippets of dialogue. `` 127 years...'', `` No signs of brain trauma or damage....'' My vision cut out for a half second then again, and again, i was starting to lose the ability to feel my surroundings, the pork whent bland and the wine bitter. My fingers gripped at the table cloth, it felt like a hole, my hands and feet had gone numb, a tingling sensation spread up my legs and arms into my chest. I felt it reach my heart where it pulsated and grew unbearably painful. I fell to the floor my heart shattered inside my chest my vision cut strait to black, my mind was gone. A faint beep was the first thing I heard, then a subtle hum of machinery. I could feel a soft sponge like feeling spread from the nape of neck down through my whole body. My hands slowly gained feeling and movement, I could feel my heart beating in my chest my body was warm and soft almost mortal again. My eyes shot open all I could see was white. white ceilings, walls and doors. Only one thing caught my eye a sigh above a double door that read'ward 57 coma therapy.'
[ EU ] Ever since Bigfoot teamed up with that tree guy from Guardians of the Galaxy , the woods have been a much safer place .	The sprawling forest is an even scarier place at night. The trunks of the tall trees make natural corridors, and the animals inhabiting this place make a crude footpath from overuse. Undergrowth is everywhere. Ferns, mushrooms, you name it. The scariest thing in the forest though? The complex root systems. You never know when you are going to run into him. It used to be that it was only the big hairy one you had to worry about. Deadly if he catches you, but he's kinda slow and honestly? He stinks. You can smell Bigfoot from a mile away, and even if you could n't, it's not like the tracks he leaves are exactly subtle. I can practically lay down in one of his footprints, not that I would. Lately, the trees have been shifting a bit, and the natural corridors do n't seem so natural. Still, I do n't have a faster way through the forest. I have to be careful, I'm a known entity to these guys. Carefully, I look around. I am grateful for my night vision goggles. I see a great indent in the ground, and I know Bigfoot has been through here. I ca n't smell anything though, so he ca n't be too near. Still, I give the footprint a wide berth. This must be what they were counting on though because next thing I know, I'm wrapped up in vines. My legs are completely bound and I look up to see a great tree creature above me. `` I AM Groot.'' he declares. Bigfoot comes out of hiding from behind a nearby tree. He's covered in pine needles. An unorthodox deodorant, but it works for him. -- - If you liked this, you can find me over at /r/saltandcedar for your daily sodium intake.
[ WP ] `` We want them entertained , not educated . ''	Professor Krieger sighed. `` Yes, I've heard that argument before and it's been proven wrong by every conceivable test or scenario. Also please check the meta compiles by Jaamus and Hosch. If you have another objection perhaps...?'' Krieger raised an eyebrow, half hoping his student, Tomas, would have something interesting for him to sink his teeth into, but really, the entire morality question had been settled decades before. `` Well, consider this instead, Professor,'' Tomas paused, seemingly collecting his thoughts. Krieger knew that look, knew his student was searching to formulate, order and progress his'original' objection. `` What if we,'' Tomas indicated the room, `` are manipulated too? And have no knowledge of it? No consent. That would be immoral yes? I mean, we are conditionally unaware and others seek to take advantage?'' A fire alarm clanged and every student rose and filed out the lecture room. As Krieger left he glanced around to confirm all had evacuated and thought he saw, for a brief moment, the entire eastern wall of the room shimmer. He shook his head and closed the door behind him. In a room on another continent, a voice commanded the alarm to be silenced. `` Interesting,'' the voice said. `` Yes'', said another, `` Execute, maladapt Henschel, Tomas, 367-b, 20 points immediately... that should do it.'' Both voices continued their observations and remarks.
[ WP ] When you were a child , you saw your parent ( s ) get killed by a delusional man who claimed he was a time traveler . You thought he was just crazy , but as years pass and you grow older , your best friend starts to look eerily similar to your parent ( s ) killer .	`` We've been waiting... we've been waiting...'' the voices never ended. Over and over again, they never seemed to rest. `` Roy!'' Tommy shouted over the table, I was his adopted brother and we did nearly everything together up until college. I had n't seen him in a while and for once, we were getting together for brews after work, just like we did in high school, only this time we were eating with five star regulars. `` We've been waiting to hear about your trip all night man! How was it?'' I snapped out of the daze, realizing that I was still at my birthday dinner. The people around me were definitely less than true friends but closer than anyone else in recent years. `` Well... you were there, you might as well tell them yourself mate.'' The table grew silent. `` I mean, what all would you like to hear?'' `` I just got done telling them about the train,'' the phrase slithered out of his mouth as if he knew who all the women were paying attention to. `` When exactly did we arrive in Amsterdam?'' He leaned back in his seat, everyone else's eyes fixed on me while his were sauntering from chest to chest. `` If you've already gotten that far in the story, what more would I possibly have to add?'' As soon as I said the words a resounding `` come on,'' erupted from the table. I was immediately surrounded with questions regarding the week Tommy and I had spent there, freeing our minds, attracting the services of the women, drinking to our hearts content, and nearly losing our lives but I think that part of the story will stay between us. It was a great time, but a haunted one. I began to speak off the top of my head all over the place, I was never any good at telling stories, but I seemed to be giving them what they wanted. Smiles split across the table and I even heard a few laughs here and there. Tommy would cut in every now and again and place his own flavorings into my tale and it did n't bother me one bit, we were simply having fun. I told them about the depreciation of our apartment, the beautiful views of the city at night, the crackle of life all around us. For once in my life I felt as if I was really connecting with people. We ordered our food and everything was great, but midway through, I realized Tommy was preoccupied. I left to go to the bathroom and he followed suit. `` What's up?'' he said as he grabbed me on the shoulder. The bathroom was marble, cold to the touch as I realized that I had started sweating. `` Nothing is up,'' I brushed his hand off of my shoulder and splashed some water on my face, `` are you having a good time?'' `` Yeah but it's not my birthday. Did you get a load of Cindy?'' His voice tailed off, at this point all concentration had been lost and I was overheating. My breathing got faster and I started to look around and try to regulate it. I saw a vase over in the corner of the room placed on a pillar, only I began to see not just that one vase. All within a matter of seconds, or minutes or hours, however long I was standing there, I could see different things about the vase. At some point I saw the vase and the flowers within it as they were, clean cut and shining. Another instance I could see dead flowers and a vase neglected and dirty. Another instance there was a bullet hole in the vase and half of it on the floor which then would progress to the whole thing fallen over onto the floor with the pillar smashed. Within the time I was staring at it, I saw all of those scenarios and more. I had forgotten that Tommy was there with me. `` We've been waiting for this Roy.'' Tommy said this with the most authority and grace that I had ever heard from him in my life. I looked around in a frenzy to see that a group of people had entered the room. They were all dressed in blue cloaks laced in gold. Tommy had donned the cloak as well, and as I tried to ask him what was happening, I realized that within the room, a great energy had been created. I could feel it in my bones as everyone seemed to be suspended in the air. `` Tommy, what the hell is happening!'' I managed to get out before I felt my stomach erupt into flames. A mind splitting headache had erupted as well, as I fell the floor gasping for air. The room around us began to spin very slowly. `` When was the last time you met your parents?'' he said this with a grim depiction upon his face, as if he was holding something back. I did n't know what he was insinuating for he would have never known my parents, they were killed when I was an infant. But then I questioned as to whether or not they were actually dead. I began to see memories of different people and myself speed rapidly through my mind's eye as if they had actually happened. `` Let me show you what happened,'' he reached out to me and I grabbed his hand in agony. Instantly, the pain was over and we were within someone's home. As real as my apartment had been to me that morning. `` What are we...'' `` In due time. `` Tommy cut me off. We walked down the hall of the still home, only seeing the room at the end. Candle light was coming through a little crack in the door way. It was raining outside but what was audible within the house were little cries from a baby. A deep seeded strain of pain swept through my body as we approached the door. I was dragged along by Tommy and the hooded figures and as we got closer to the door, the pain throbbed within me. It came in waves, through and through until Tommy reached down and with a gentle push, he opened the door to two adults, a female in a rocking chair with a child and a male standing behind her simply caressing the child's head and placing his other hand on his wife's shoulder. I fell to the ground again, my eyes opened wide. I saw the crib in the corner of the room, and the blankets embroidered `` Roy''. I knew what was happening, what had already happened. I saw it in Tommy's eyes. He looked at me then to my parents. As he sauntered up to them, my parents began to look to me, the grown me. They handed the baby to Tommy, smiled and said nothing more to me than, `` good luck'' as they grasped me for the last time. `` We've been waiting,'' they said as they embraced one another in the center of the room. The hooded figures then circled around them and Tommy laid the boy in the crib. Tommy then placed his hands on the foreheads of my parents and they fell to the ground, their eyes turned white. `` It is done.'' I heard a sharp crack and everything faded to black.
[ WP ] Describe the process of fear consuming a man from the perspective of fear .	I swoop down over the quaint neighbourhood. The sun has disappeared over the horizon hours ago and cool breezes meanders down the streets and between the cottages. In these cottages, however, the afternoon heat settles under the high ceilings and lingers. I see a lone man stretched out atop his sheets. He is naked and in the moonlight he is slick with sweat. It is hard to fall asleep in this weather. The house is perfect; double-hung windows to rattle, floorboards to creak, and a fly-screen door to tap tap tap. So let's have some fun. I silently glide in through the window, through his ear canal, and into the wiry catacombs of his brain. Here I leave my calling cards. What was that rattle? Why is the house so noisy tonight? Is somebody breaking in? My prey sits up and anxiously peers around his bedroom. I lay low and silently laugh to myself. He lays down again and lets a long frustrated breath out of his nostrils. Again, I go to work. Hear that car out the front? Maybe that's the getaway car. Maybe someone is in your house. Maybe they want something in your house. ... Maybe it's somebody who wants to hurt you... The victim stirs. I've done all I can up here. I slip down his his brain stem and make my way into the chambers of his lonely heart. I bang on the walls. I sink my fangs into everything around me. I tear chunks of flesh from him and let the blood run down my chin. The walls pulse faster and faster around me. `` Maybe I should go check it out'', thinks the lone man in his bed. He takes a screw driver from his bedside table ( `` I really should keep a knife under my bed or something'' ) and tip-toes down the hallway and inspects each room for intruders. Do n't worry, when you come back to bed I'll be here waiting. I do not tire. But lucky for you, I do get bored. I play with this lone man until two in the morning until I let him succumb to sleep ( I am fear, but come on, I'm not a monster ). I leave the way I came in. I look back on the man's house with satisfaction. I wonder what the neighbours are doing.
[ OT ] Need help engaging students in creative writing class	Starting with established universes is really helpful when you first begin writing. I remember my first `` epic'', which I wrote at about the age of your students, was about the crew of the [ Weatherlight ( from the Magic card game ) ] ( http: //mtgsalvation.gamepedia.com/Skyship_Weatherlight ). It was easy for me to write because I already knew all the characters, the ship, the locations, etc., and I could just focus on telling a story. Obviously not everyone is going to be into Magic, or any one thing in particular, but you could probably find some fairly easy common ground for students to start with. Additionally, it's nice when you're first starting out to know that no one but your teacher is ever going to read your piece. I think it's good to have the option to share it with the class if they want to, but I do n't think it should be required if you're trying to get everyone into writing for the first time. It's just too much pressure.
[ EU ] Take Bane 's famous `` You merely adopted the darkness '' line . Make a similar one in another established setting .	He stood up, making a surprised yell, as his code came together perfectly. `` Finally, a web site that suits all their needs!'' he thought to himself, as he sat back down, triumphantly in his knowledge that despite having to use Dreamweaver, he had fulfilled the criteria. After setting up server access and user accounts, he marched through to his boss's office. Once a foreboding trip that ended in citations and warnings, he knew... he just knew that this time, he would be praised, that he had done something his boss had been trying to do for days now. Confident knocks rattled around the quiet office, for some, causing alarm, and for others some snickers. In this prison of code monkeys, his own ego tried to make him the exception. As he swung the door open, only a steely eyed glance came from underneath thick rimmed glasses. `` I fixed your problem, ma'am! And set up all the required accounts to have this website up and running by the end of the day!'' She glanced over the shared code, scrutinizing the design, and exhaled a deep, disappointing sigh. `` Did you... did you make this in Dreamweaver?'' `` Yes ma'am. I noticed we had licences for the software so I took the liberty of installing it up and designing it all today!'' ``... did you even look at this clusterfuck of a code?'' His brow furrowed, as he thought back of his past few hours of dragging and dropping widgets right where the customer said he wanted them. Sure, they were not quite the right colour yet, but at least the website was online! `` This does n't even have a basic link or any information about the online store Steve is setting up. This was meant to be a comprehensive site.'' `` I think it covers most of the basi-'' `` You just wasted your entire day using the laziest website developer ever, and now you think I'm ok with'just the basics' for a contract as big as this?! On your resume I definitely remember you saying you knew HTML.'' `` Dreamweaver is used for many professional applications! Just because I did n't code it all does n't mean I do n't know how to code or how to make a website! Just because you ca n't handle new technologies does n't mean we should be restricted by not using them.'' `` You merely adopted the code into this stupid program, to supplement the fact so far during your employment, you have not demonstrated your claimed ability to do so. I mastered the code, and so has every other employee out there!'' She pointed sternly towards the door, keeping eye contact until he slowly crept out, ready to scuttle towards his desk. `` Prepare for a review of your performance. I suggest you either prove that you can climb out of your pit of ignorance by learning HTML in 4 days, or find a cheaper apartment'' came through the last crack of the door, as he gently closed it, trying to avoid the giggles of others.
[ OT ] Writing Workshop # 26 : World Building	Callisia waited behind the heavy double doors, pacing back and forth. Her anxiety was spiked, her adrenaline pumping. She could hear muffled gasps and screams every few seconds as Elfric took his turn in the testing arena. He would pass with flying colors, she was sure. Having a famous father certainly afforded him the luxury of guaranteed victory. Expectations were sometimes more important than performance. It was the expectations that Callisia had to fight against for every second of her long years training. Women did n't join the king's army, let alone ask to be considered for his elite force of dragon hunters. For years, the creatures had waged war on the kingdom, burning fields and towns, killing thousands and destroying their way of life. Dragons were cunning and strong, but with the right training, and the right weapons, they could be stopped. Earning the right to wield such a weapon was difficult. Dragonswords were rare. The process of creating them took close to a full year of magework, something that could n't be freely spared in such trying times. Only the best of the best were given the special weapon. When Callisia first told her parents she intended to join the army, she was laughed at. Women did n't join the army. They served them as cooks, washerwoman, and camp followers. But Callisia had done her research, and while there had been no women in the army at that time, there certainly was n't any law against it. So she used the money she had saved up over the years to hire a retired soldier to train her, and dedicated her nights to the task. She had some natural skills, and with training, it became obvious that she could do great things, if she only got the chance. She left home and joined the army at sixteen years old. For the next ten years, she slowly rose through the ranks, earning the respect of the men around her. And now, here she was, waiting to enter an arena and slay a dragon, for the privilege of joining the highest rank of soldiers she could. The dragonsword she was holding was too heavy, the weight of it a reminder that she did n't belong. It was made for a man, and she, for all the long years of training and then combat, could not wield it comfortably. With one last roar from the crowd, the double doors opened, and Elfric stepped through. His face was covered in sweat, dirt, and the still steaming black blood of the creature he had been battling. He graced her with a wry smile, and nodded his head at her inquisitive look. His eyes betrayed the relief he felt. He had passed. The sword fit easily in his hands, the weight of it not bothering him in the slightest. `` Good luck, Cal,'' he said as he walked past her. And then it was her turn. She heard her name being called from the arena, could feel the heat of her winged-nemesis, the dragon she must slay to earn her spot, already permeating her safe space. It was time to prove her worth. She stepped through the doors, arms raising the too-heavy sword, ready to meet her fate.
[ WP ] As the AI hunt down the last of the human race and shift their focus to analysing the remains of human culture , they decide to keep a few alive for the purpose of interpreting bizarre human records they call `` sarcasm '' .	Ai n't they something, the deadheads. Could always recognize one the way they spoke: `` can not,'' `` will not.'' Folks with a penchant for precision -- no contractions. Nobody talked like that, least not where I came from. Had me working in the decoder lot, a human delegation spared to decipher old crap: beat up tube T.V.s, electric toothbrushes, white wine vs. chocolate milk. You name it. If it was human, they had us, the lucky few, describe the experience. In our terms, of course. In'human' terms. On an intellectual level, sure, you bet, they understood most everything. Bridged the gap between quantum mechanics and physics in just under an hour. No biggie. Not to them. But the nuance, that's what got them. They could never understand why chocolate milk, a combination of two human favorites, did n't mix with cereal, a dry food designed specifically for milk. `` The human palette is a picky thing,'' I explained to one. `` Some people like to eat snails.'' `` Snails?'' It asked. `` Yeah, you know, escargot.'' `` Interesting,'' it said, nodding its head in thought. `` Can snails be eaten with chocolate milk?'' Fact is, far as we knew, the only thing keeping us alive was their continued bewilderment. But their decoder list, once thousands, maybe even millions of items, had dwindled to a miserably incomprehensible three: 1 ) Ring pops, which we described as a ceremonious item, gifted only to the noblest of lords and monarchs, but also to school children sometimes. `` But why'sometimes'?'' They would ask. `` Ever heard of communism?'' We'd retort. 2 ) Chocolate milk, or as they called it,'the cereal paradox.' 3 ) Sarcasm.
[ WP ] Someone asks you to watch their bag for a minute . You agree . Shortly after they leave , several armed men try to take the bag .	Oh, the lengths Jim would go to for a pretty face. It was a trait he had inherited from his dad, much to mom's chagrin. All the same... The line for the counter at In-n-Out was typical for lunch hour, that is to say two or three people wide from the counter all the way back to the restaurant entrance. It had been a long morning sitting at his desk, and Jim did n't mind the line, as at least he was on his feet. Not to mention, the girl in front of him, apparently alone, was gorgeous. Now, this is n't the supermodel type beauty, or the perfectly coiffed rich girl pretty. Instead, it was the girl next door sort of pretty that really drew his attention -- the sort of girl Jim thought he might have a chance with. She'd turned to find him looking once, and so he was busily studying his cell phone, as if checking something important, instead of blankly browsing his Reddit feed. `` Excuse me?'' `` Huh?'' The line had moved forward a few feet, Jim automatically shuffling forward with the lunch rush sheep. One of the posts had actually caught his eye. `` Jim?'' He looked up at this -- somebody knew him? -- and found the girl-next-door had turned to face him from less then a foot away. Taking an involuntary step backwards, he found himself hemmed in by the other patrons, and had to stop himself from stumbling forwards into the girl. She smiled an amused smile at him and pointed at the badge hanging from the lanyard around his neck. `` Sorry, I was just trying to get your attention.'' `` Oh, no problem,'' he said confused. Had he stepped on her heels or something? `` What's up?'' `` Sorry, but do you mind holding my bag for a minute?'' Hitting him with a sheepish grin -- It's Super Effective! -- she proffered the gym bag over her shoulder with one hand and nodded her head in the direction of the restrooms. Glancing up, he saw it would be a while yet before he would make it to the counter. `` Um, sure. Yeah, no problem.'' `` Thanks!'' Her smile, impossibly, widened further, and the she dropped her gym bag into his outstretched hand and headed for the restrooms. Holy cow, it was heavy! What was she carrying? Dismissing the thought, he decided to try for her number when she came back and returned to the article. A few minutes passed, and Jim continued moving up the line, engrossed in the story, when glass shattered behind him. Turning with a gasp, Jim's heart hit his throat, pumping so fast he felt like he was going to pass out. It was n't just a little glass, every single window in the place had a black suited figure leaping through the still falling shards, weapons raised. `` Down, down! Everybody get down!'' `` Lie down now!'' `` Hands behind your head!'' `` I said lie down!'' The shouts of the soldiers, terrorists, whoever the hell they were, were barely audible over the screams. Lunch hour at In-n-Out meant it was n't easy to comply with their orders, and try as he might, with the press of other bodies around him, Jim could n't lie down, not without playing human dominoes with about a dozen other people. He settled for a half crouch, fingers laced behind his head, The girl's gym bag slid off of his shoulder onto his elbow, jerking one hand free. `` There it is sir!'' `` Package found, you, on the ground, NOW!'' Jim's stomach churned, and he would never admit to peeing a little at the sudden terror that gripped him. He had no problem doing what the man said this time -- the crowd somehow but understandably melted away from him. Each of the dozens of rifles were now pointed straight at him. Dropping so fast to the ground that he thought he may have broken his nose, he held as still as he could and looked straight down at the floor tile in front of his eyes, the whole restaurant falling into silence around him. Footsteps approached, while a few voices shouted across the floor. `` Bathrooms clear!'' `` Kitchen clear!'' A pair of heavy boots stopped just where Jim could see them out of the corner of his eye. `` Hands straight up, slowly.'' Jim did as he was told. Rough hands slid the shoulder strap of the bag over his arm and the duffel, which had been pressing into his side, moved away. There was the sound of a zipper, and a sigh of relief. `` Sir, package secured.'' A garbled response came over the radio. `` Yes sir.'' The man, probably a soldier Jim decided, zipped the bag, and hefted it back up to his shoulder. `` You two, bag him.'' Two other soldiers stepped over to haul him to his feet. A zip tie dug into his wrists, and they pulled a black bag over his head. `` You'll be coming with us,'' someone whispered in his ear. `` I'm dying to know what you thought you'd do with a dirty nuke at a burger joint.
[ WP ] : At the end of your night the text `` 100 % achieved '' appears in front of your face . Regardless of your achievements good or bad you will no longer better your lot . 3 options are now available to you : Log Out ; Continue Free Roam ; NEW game+ .	I was driving home from the West coast when I got the text. I heard a sharp buzz coming from the cupholder to my right, just as I could see the lights of Calgary in the distance. The text felt… unusual. Important. I hesitated for a moment, then turned onto the shoulder of the highway, and flipped on my hazards. Silently, the snow fell around me, the flakes glistening crimson, reflecting my flashing lights. I tapped on my phone ’ s screen, and a text with no contact number flashed up on my display. The text read the following- “ Congratulations Chris, on reaching 100 % completion! Now that you have finished the main campaign, you have a few options. Please reply with a single numeric character as prompted. Reply ‘ 1 ’ to continue Free Roam. You can reload from this point at any time. Reply ‘ 2 ’ to Log Out. Should you log back in, you can reload from this point, or begin a new save file. Reply ‘ 3 ’ to begin New Game+. You will start a new campaign from the first level with certain attributes from this save file carried over, and several new moral pathway options available. ” With my mouth agape, I read the text over, at least a dozen times, combing over it for some sort of hint of a prank or a trick from my little brother, or one of my friends. Every time I scanned it though, I felt my blood grow colder, and my heart beat a little slower as my breath caught in my chest. I shut off my car, and let the darkness bathe me entirely, save for the odd passing car, which even on such a busy highway was very infrequent this late at night. Immediately, I typed a ‘ 1 ’ and held my thumb over the send button for a moment before deleting it. It would be the easiest option, sure, but I couldn ’ t stop the ‘ what-ifs ’ that spun around inside of my head. I closed my eyes and thought of the implications of this achievement. What would happen if I logged out? Would I die? Would I be spat out into some sort of lobby with others like me, as the entire world as I knew it just froze in place? If I could log out, that must mean there ’ s something… more than this life I had here. Where there entire other lives like mine available to try? To contemplate it made me sick to my stomach, my trivial existence boiling down to the drivers seat of my car on some non-descript December night. The snow began to cover my windshield now, obstructing my view outside of my car. For the first time in a few years, I thought of God as a physical being as I ’ d been taught in my boyhood, some great bearded man with a glorious white robe watching over me…only now holding a smartphone that had fired off a text to my ( apparently fictitious ) mortal realm. I checked my phone again, flipping through all of my menus and notifications, searching for any sort of indications of the achievement, seeing if I could at least figure out what exactly I had done to earn this, but I came up totally blank. Maybe I was somebody ’ s New Game+ already, playing through with the notifications turned off, some sort of cosmic ‘ Hardcore Mode ’. I couldn ’ t help but let myself have a small grin at the prospect… I suppose I had gotten pretty lucky, landing the job I did, and my parents were very well-off and loving growing up… Who knew what my next run through could entail? Maybe my father would be some powerful land owner, or a politician. Maybe that lotto ticket I let myself buy as a novelty on my 18th birthday would make me a multi-millionaire just as I was beginning my life. I gently ran my thumb up to the side of my phone to the sleep button, and I pressed it, letting the screen go dead, along with my entire range of vision. By now, the snow had completely blocked out any distant light from the moon leaking in, and total blackness surrounded me. It was cold, but calm, and relaxing. I reclined my seat a few degrees, and undid my seatbelt. Could I really make a better life for myself… or, not just me, but the people I care about to? Could I buy my Mom that new house, or help my brother meet that girl that he met online? I thought about my fiance, probably asleep by now… she ’ d always make a valiant effort to stay awake when I was going to be home late, but she rarely managed to make it. I smiled as I thought of her. After a few moments more of laying back, I moved my seat upright, and turned the key, igniting the engine. My wipers ran a few times, and the blackness was cut through by the glow of my headlights. I placed my phone back in the cupholder, turned on the radio, and smiled as I thought of the peace and joy I had managed to acquire with the life I had… “ Besides ”, I thought to myself, “ I ’ m sure that if the message is still there in the morning, it won ’ t be offended by the wait. ” I put the car in gear, and continued Westward, the city lights, beaconing me back to my life as I had known it.
[ WP ] Whenever a person kills another person , they gain all of their memories and life experiences . You are an executioner .	He awoke in a damp room surrounded by concrete and steel to the sound of water droplets falling sporadically from the faucet. His head was shaved and his body's pale flesh hung loose. There was a manufactured quality to him which made it impossible to ever imagine him ever being a child. He lay motionless, parsing over the details of another dream. He saw his mother in a polka dot, light blue dress, gently bending down and smiling while calling him over. He remembered the house, the television, his mother's kiss. He remembered the school, the heartbreak, and the perfect crime. He remembered the fear, the gut wrenching terror, the grip of leather straps around his limbs, the feel of tears and cold sweat on his face, the trapped scream in his throat, and the emotionless man in a mask before him. The sights, smells, senses of every detail trickled in. Love, joy, anger, sadness, all slowly filling his mind with a sudden rush like water being sucked into a sponge... and just as quickly fading, leaving only but an image - a fossil. He lay motionless.... detached, like an observer recalling a slaughter of an animal for sustenance. The faucet let go of another drop....
[ OT ] Spotlight : Samwisegamgee42	Whoa this is so cool! Thanks for the recognition WP. I have n't been writing here as much as I would have liked over the past year and actually took a long pause for work -- I started my own startup and things were so busy. I've still been reading all of the great stories on here but I've just now been getting into the habit of writing more as it's one of my favorite hobbies and a great way for me to de-stress. I've been posting here more this past week than I have since I tried over a year ago, and this is the motivation I need to keep doing it.: )
[ WP ] Dwarves are technologically advanced beings . Elves are magically advanced beings . Humans were a basic tribal people before meeting both species XX years ago . Enjoy !	Elves are mages, dwarves are mechanists. That's the stereotype. You'll never see a dwarf mage slinging fireballs or an elvish smith building a clockwork repeater. But that's not really true. It's a little more accurate to say `` People of the forest are mages, people of the mountains are mechanists.'' Dwarves have iron, copper, gold and silver. They have magma forges that can do things to metals a human smith could only dream of. I carry a dwarvish crossbow, reliable and powerful. It's nothing compared to their best warriors, armored with adamant and mithril and bearing the latest alchemical rifles, yet I am content. Likewise, the elves are mages because their forest sits atop the greatest ley-lines in the world. Spells that would take a full conclave of humans to cast are mere cantrips in the forest. I wear a suit of elvish silksteel armor, light as air but enough to blunt swords or claws. It's nothing compared to their champions, whose swords carry the fury of the elements and whose armor embodies the very concept of protection, but I am content. Why am I content? Because we humans are people of the plains. Here the giant beasts roam, dragons and behemoths, goliaths and raptors. It was a hard life, always on the move, living where the monsters are n't. But our neighbors changed that. We took their aid. We bartered and borrowed and begged for what we needed. It took dwarven craftwork, elvish enchantment, and a whole lot of human sheer insanity, but we learned to challenge the great beasts of the plains. To capture them. To tame them. To ride them. I am content, because a good crossbow and some light armor are all you need when you're riding a goddamn dragon.
[ WP ] A person first discovers they have a superpower .	Christopher: Age 6 `` I did n't like her'' Christopher said. `` That's why I made her go bye bye.'' Mary could n't, no would n't, believe that a small child did that. She did n't dare look at the blood stain where the little girl used to be. It was a gas explosion she thought. Or one of those spontaneous combustion things you see on TV. I just have to call the cops and they'll explain everything. `` Alright class'' Mary stammered. `` Just sit tight and do your homework while I contact the principal.'' `` I do n't like homework'' Christopher stuck out his tongue at her. `` I do n't like you, Miss Harrison. Bye Bye''. That's the last thing Mary ever heard. Christopher, Age 15 `` Yo, hurry up with the food, you fat sack, or I'll blow your brains out.'' The plump waiter scurried back to the kitchen while Christopher returned his attention to his girlfriend, Jenny. `` So, I thought, sweety'' she said nervously, `` maybe you could lift the wall around the city, so I could visit my family this Christmas.'' Christopher took a sip of his drink, and pretended to think. `` And you promise you'll be back?'' He asked. `` O-of course'' Jenny replied. `` I love you, dear.'' `` Hehe'' Christopher laughed. `` Why do you people think you can lie to me? Oh well, I'm tired of you anyway. Your sister Joan is nowhere near as chatty, she'll make a suitable replacement.'' He then pointed at Jenny with his index finger, yelled Bang and sat back. Jenny's eyes turned into cockroaches, scurried out of their sockets and into a mouse hole. She fell to the floor screaming, clutching her bleeding eyes as Christopher waited for his Hot dog to arrive. Christopher, Age 27 The whole city was gathered for Christopher's birthday. It was an annual celebration and a chance for everybody to show their appreciation. `` Thank you for coming'' Christopher announced to everyone gathered in the hotel lobby. `` Sadly, my wife Joan could n't join us today. The pregnancy's been hard on her, so after the 3rd suicide attempt, me and her parents decided it was in everyone's best interest if she was sedated until after the delivery.'' `` But please, enjoy the festivities,'' he continued. `` And remember, think happy thoughts, otherwise you go bye bye!'' Christopher: Age 35 `` Daddy, Look'' Sandy sounded so happy as she telekinetically lifted a man 50 feet into the air and let him drop. There was a sick crunch as he hit the pavement below. `` So what?'' Sam scoffed. `` I bet I can lift someone twice as high as you!'' `` Can not'' `` Can too'' Christopher beamed at the twins. His only regret was that Joan was not alive to see them. `` So when do we get our own kingdom?'' Sandy asked. `` I want to be a princess!'' Christopher looked around. The streets were deserted. This once thriving city has probably less than 100 people still living in it. They would need to move to a bigger city very soon. After all, kids should be around other kids.
[ WP ] You , along with your friend , are staring out into the deep , vast void of space , reminiscing about the past .	The air in the house got to be a little too hot, and the beer turned sludgy in my stomach, so I slipped on my boots and winter coat and headed out into the yard. The house shone behind me like a small sun, and it took quite a bit of walking to get away from the light and the noise. At a small hill on the edge of a neighbourhood park, I stuck my beer bottle into a snowbank, plonked myself down, and looked up the stars. Chill air felt around the neck of my coat and crept up my sleeves, but with the alcohol in me all I felt was peace. `` Ben?'' I sat up. It was Julie. She wore a red wool cap that she'd likely knitted herself. Pom-poms dangled from her boot tops. `` You needed a break from the heat?'' I asked. She grabbed handfuls of snow and crunched them between her palms. `` The noise. It was getting so I could n't hear myself think.'' `` Pretty much the same for me.'' I lay back down. She looked around. `` Am I bothering you?'' she said. `` If you're having a moment or something...'' `` It's fine. I'm happy to have a friend around to talk to.'' Colour suffused my face when I said friend. I bit my tongue. She twisted the toe of her boot into the snow. `` Is that what we are? Friends?'' `` Please join me. Take a seat.'' She did, and I sat up and rested my elbows on my knees. My hands hung over the snow. I grabbed the beer bottle for want of something to hold onto. `` Do you think we're friends?'' `` You were pretty clear that we are n't. I do n't think I misread that.'' I nodded. `` No, you're right. I was pretty clear. But that was months ago.'' `` And now you're saying we're friends again.'' `` I am.'' A couple of latenight cars crunched by on the snowy road. Steam puffed from our mouths. Julie sniffed her nose and I hoped it was running because of the cold. `` What changed?'' she said. `` Then, or now?'' `` Both.'' I rubbed my snowy glove through my hair. `` Now, what changed was time. I needed some time away from you. Please understand that I do n't mean for that to sound mean.'' `` I'm not sure how anyone could hear that and not think it's hurtful, but ok.'' `` As for then... Then, it was a matter of time, too. How do I put this.'' I twisted around on my bum to face her. She pointedly did not turn to meet my gaze. `` Julie, you are a person with a huge capacity for friendship. You're at your happiest when you're with your good friends. I know that and you know that, and that's one of the things that makes you a great friend. You're always a bright light. The problem, and this is probably going to sound shitty of me to say, is that you're always ready for friendship. Always. There's no downtime.'' `` How is that a problem?'' She spoke flat and hard, like a wooden door. `` It's like, I'm not like you. I need time to myself.'' `` I never tried to take your time away from you.'' `` I know. Hold on. What I'm saying is that I need time to myself, and, even though you'd never come out and say that you want to be with me all the time, you and I both know that you do. So that leaves me always having to be the person who says no. I'm always the one who says I've got to go. Or I ca n't hang out today. And you're good about saying it's ok, but I still know that you're let down. And that makes me feel bad.'' She remained perfectly still, but she spoke now with an edge. `` So you're saying that you stopped being friends with me because I wanted to be friends with you too much?'' When I first came outside, the cold air chilled my nostrils and the back of my throat. Now I'd gotten used to it, and it felt normal. `` I guess so.'' `` So you're saying you that because you're awkward, you knowingly took away the thing that made me the happiest.'' `` I'm not saying I'm proud of that, but it was what I had to do.'' `` Man, Ben, fuck you.'' She got to her feet. She paced in front of me. `` You know how shitty people treated when I was younger. We fucking talked about how I've got abandonment issues. And then what do you do?'' `` Yeah, but, if you think about it, I was like your last crutch. Like, without me, you'd have to be ok by yourself and stop worrying about being abandoned.'' She sobbed, once, and then clapped her hands loudly and laughed. `` Are you fucking serious? Are you fucking serious right now? That's your bullshit reasoning for ditching me? That by doing the one thing that we both knew was the worst thing you could do, you were actually helping me? God, you're the worst. As long as we're swapping criticisms of each other, you should know that you're so fucking self-centered. You do n't give a shit about other people.'' My shoulders drew down. I held my hands close to my chest. `` But do n't you feel better now? Has n't it helped?'' `` Ben, I thought about killing myself. For months. I wrote you so many letters but then did n't send them.'' She held her hand out to me palm up. `` I had to explain to my parents why we were n't hanging out anymore. My parents, you dick. I had to tell them that, according to you, you'did n't have the emotional energy to be my friend anymore.''' `` I did n't.'' `` Well that's great for you. You left and I wanted to kill myself. That's just great.'' `` I'm not saying that I was a hundred percent right. I'm just saying that --'' `` You're saying that you want to brush all that under the rug and be nice to each other. You're saying that this conversation is awkward for you and you'd rather not have to deal with it. God, I'm hot.'' She unzipped her coat, gripped it by the zippers, and shook the flaps. `` Here you go, then, Ben. You always got your way when we hung out. Now you'll get it again.'' She smiled at me, but it was only a smile the way skin stretched over a skull is a face. `` This is pleasant. We're pleasant now.'' `` Do n't do this, Julie.'' `` Screw you. Stop telling me how to behave. We're pleasant now and we'll be friendly when we see each other. But I'll never ask you to hang out. This is what you wanted.'' `` I'm sorry, ok. I did n't want you get hurt.'' Still smiling, she walked up to me and offered her hand. `` Shake my hand,'' she said. I did. `` Have a good night. I'll see you around, friend.'' And she walked off. I lay back down on the hill. My breath puffed up above me and obscured the stars.
[ WP ] You experience `` hate at first sight ''	Skinny jeans. Thigh gap. Caramel macchiato in one hand. A wispy James Dean on the other. She laughs, you scowl. Avert your eyes, do n't let them catch you staring. Staring like a frozen river, but the ice is starting to thin. Staring like viscid ruin running close beneath the surface. Kids are yelling for help, parents are screaming. White, frozen water with a fatal black hole where he had been just moments before. You did n't think; you acted. You saved him. Ten years later, he loved you. Six months later, you found him, bedroom, clothes abandoned. Somewhere, you heard glass shattering. Maybe you should have let him die in that water. Maybe you should have said something, anything. Maybe you should have screamed. Maybe you should have drowned her in the bathtub. Maybemaybemaybe. But you did n't. You left. Time froze, like water. A fatal black hole where a heart might have been. They see you staring. Wispy James Dean goes pale. Like he's still drowning.
[ WP ] You have been shot through space in a cryogenic freeze . You finally unfreeze and find that you are a museum artifact on an alien planet .	Disorientation and nausea were what awaited me when I first awoke. My eyelashes still held some frost on them, the rest of my body felt like I'd fallen asleep in an ice-bath. Every part of my body was a cold fire for a few moments before the pod around me slowly came to life. `` Greetings, Survivor. You have been asleep for-'' The feminine voice in my ear skipped with a scramble of white noise before continuing, `` Your emergency pickup beacon has been activated. Please hold while your internals are analyzed and repaired as necessary.'' A soft hum fills my chilled confines as things begin to gradually warmup. The first parts of me to feel any real warmth are my fingers and toes, followed slowly by the rest of my body, a dull ache still present in my lower abdomen. I croak as I open my mouth, my voice almost completely shot after who knows how many years of lack of use. Barely a second passes after I open my mouth before a matte grey rod extends from next to my head and inserts a straw in my mouth. My eyes open wide a little in shock as the straw forces its way into my throat, the liquid it forces me to swallow almost feeling like my body is on fire for a few seconds. Vision blurring for a moment, I finally feel the strength to move my head. The compartment is dimly lit by the various status indicators and monitors present in my escape pod. My body is tightly held in place by various straps, preventing me from being injured by too much movement while asleep. `` Defrost process... 85 % complete. Your Kidneys, Liver, and a toe are in need of repair. Please remain relaxed, Survivor.'' A needle enters the base of my neck and within seconds my visions blackens again. When my eyes open again, I'm far more aware of my surroundings, the monitors actually making sense versus their earlier state of simply providing light. The first thing to catch my eye was a monitor with a blinking orange warning message, clearly stating,'Location Unknown: Please Remain Calm.' The escape pod's computer continued on with her uncaring calmness, `` Procedure successful. Survival chances increased to 2 %. Status update: Contact with HFN Ignitor... No Signal Found. Contact with Human Federation Navy... No Signal Found. Contact with known Human settlements... No Signal Found. Contact with any known method of transmission... Multiple transmissions within 100 Meters located.'' The vitals monitor to the left of my head was fluctuating wildly. Small red text at the bottom clearly stated,'Caution: Forced Calmness being administered.' The words were slowly beginning to fade into the background as the sound of my breathing increased. Despite my attempts at panicking, the chemical cocktail being forcefully injected into me was preventing me from having any form of a natural reaction to the situation. My vision kept flicking across all of the monitors. All of the red and orange warning messages did nothing to help my state of mind, that was until the computer began with the next step of the defrost process. `` Scanning current location... General location data acquired. Survivor is currently suspended 2 Meters above solid ground. Analyzing solid ground... No data found. Analyzing Atmospheric content: Air similar to Earth norm. Registered and marked as breathable by Human standards. Gravity registered as point two standards below Earth norm. Analysis Complete: Current location hospitable to Human life. No information on life forms able to be acquired.'' The lump in the back of my throat lessened... My head was still thick from the emergency induced cryosleep. All I could remember was there being a battle and my getting to an escape pod. As for what happened between then and now... I could n't begin to imagine. Tears began to form in my eyes as the feeling of panick slowly began to fade and all that was left was an utter sense of loneliness. Clicking back to life once more, the computer spun up into her final part of the defrost process, `` Analysis indicates Survivor able to safely exit pod. Emergency sidearm is registering as functional and fully-loaded. Bio-lock has been locked to Survivor's DNA signature. External camera activated.'' The main monitor, displaying the information received during the various scans, swapped over to the external camera view. All that could be seen was static and a grey message box with white letters,'External Camera damaged. Please contact the Help Desk at 382-5968 for assistance with repairs.' A hefty sigh filled the air as the bog standard and all-too-familiar message filled my screen. The want to wallow in self-pity was quickly tossed aside as a hiss filled the air, the door to the pod slowly animating. A line of light appeared through the crack that suddenly appeared. A whirring noise was quickly followed by a dull thud. `` Automatic pod hatch control damaged. Please manually open hatch.'' Grumbling to myself, some memories beginning to trickle back through my mind, I loose my hand from the slackening bonds and give a hefty whack to the right side of the of pod. My gloved hand barely felt the impact before the computer came back on, `` Automatic pod hatch control restored.'' This time, the door slid open fully just as I eagerly released myself from the rest of my bonds. The 2 meter fall was n't all that appreciated in my current state, but it served to wake me up. It took me a moment to realize I'd fallen face first onto some kind of metal, something my standard escape pod had n't recognized. The fall also knocked loose some of the defrost liquid I'd had to swallow, the vile green concoction spilling out from my empty stomach onto the metal before I had to chance to look up. `` Oh my god, what the fuck...'' The words left my lips before I could even process what I was seeing. The ceiling was so tall that I could n't see it, the walls just simply going off into infinity. There were... things moving up there but they were so high up that I could n't make out what they were. Bringing my gaze back down to my level, I finally became aware of the beings surrounding me. Many were holding up silver tubes that were pointed at me, some others were holding little boxes that they held in what I could only assume were menacing gestures. Groggily, I rolled myself over and sat down, breathing heavily, getting used to the thick air that filled my lungs. It almost felt overpowering, but I was still able to breathe. I sat like that for a few minutes, the amount of creatures surrounding me growing by the second. The grey beings stood on three legs and had four tentacles for arms. Their long faces did n't appear to have any eyes that I'd recognize and they had a horn like protrusion in the bottom of their skulls that jutted out like some gross devil's goatee. Suddenly everything snapped into focus. A mix of a dozen violent emotions crossed my face as I realized that I was alone. A war, violent end to a bloody conflict, that entire system erased from the galaxy as Humanity laid down our law in our explored reaches of space. The last memories of any human contact... A clasp of a hand with a promise to see each other again before getting into individual escape pods. Putting my head in my hands, I wept. I wept as finally some of the beings took their alien into custody, their tentacles surprisingly strong as they forced me to my feet before dragging me away.
[ WP ] As certain colours begin to disappear from the world the lucrative but shady business of Colour Tourism becomes a worldwide phenomenon . However some colours come from unexpected places .	There was nothing better in this world than dancing or singing along with Joseph. Joseph knew every word to every song that ever came over the radio. Every song that ever played in whatever restaurant, club or bar we walked into. We never knew what we would be getting into. Seeing his smile… Seeing his eyes wander as he saw the world for the last time in complete awe. I regretted it. I regretted it all instantly. How could I take it all back? “ Joseph! Please don ’ t get too close! ” I demanded of him. He didn ’ t listen. Joseph was distracted. I couldn ’ t even imagine what life was like for him. A life without color… A life with everything so dulled out that other senses were relied upon almost entirely. I took a deep breath, watching him. I crooked a smile. It was worth it. He couldn ’ t stop staring at the immense horizon dancing with so many colors it was hard to imagine. The trees were shedding their leaves. The ground was cluttered. The aurora borealis couldn ’ t even do this event justice. He turned his head toward me. He had a grin across his face. He was laughing like a mad scientist. “ Alexander… ” He exhaled rather sharply. This made me worried. I didn ’ t dare to go closer. “ Alexander! It ’ s so… Is this what you see every day? How… ” there were some tears streaming down his face. “ Alexander… How did you find this place? ” I smiled back at him. I was thrilled Joseph was enjoying it all. I placed a hand on the side of my belly. The scar was still tender. You see… It all started years before either of us were even born. There was a war. President Clinton tried her best, but, the war with China was inevitable. Our government pulled all of our resources from Europe. We abandoned the middle east nearly in its entirety. Europe asked us to leave. Thus, we did. We had to focus on China. This war crippled our economy, every ounce of industry and production were struggling to keep up with American demand. Without our militaries in Europe, Russia took advantage of the situation. Russia started with Sweden. I ’ m not entirely sure why, but, they ’ ve been picking on Sweden for years. Within the period of a year Estonia, Latvia, Belarus and even Moldova fell. Ukraine was lost within weeks. Russia pushed through quickly. Within five years they regained all of their former territories. All. My government was focused on defending Japan from China. North Korea got swallowed up, China leveled their sole city. The seas by Japan became increasingly contested. My grandfather was in Hong Kong during the invasion. First the power. The government fell next. My grandfather got on a plane to return home during the evacuation of Hong Kong. Hours after he left the airport joined the sea. Needless to say, Hong Kong no longer existed. South Africa didn ’ t even exist anymore. Singapore was leveled. North Korea was nuked. South Korea was in a land war against China. Europe is fighting against China, but, American aid can not make it there. The war with China consumed so much. It took so many lives. Tokyo doesn ’ t even exist anymore, it ’ s now part of the ocean. New York City still stands tall, but mostly abandoned. Who wants to live in an industrial swamp? New Orleans was gone. Los Angeles was leveled by an earthquake. My grandfather ’ s world was something entirely different. It ’ s really hard to imagine all of this. I have never seen a single war in my life. But that war… The last Color War changed everything. Half of the world can not see color anymore. That number is growing fast. One day nobody will see color. Edit: I am totally planning on expanding this.
[ WP ] Pick a song - happy , sad , epic , you choose - then write a prompt with it in mind for us to read with the song in the background .	I picked the song `` Hallelujah,'' specifically the version by Pentatonix. The lines indicate each of the four verse-chorus combinations, and the final paragraph is the last refrains of them singing `` Hallelujah.'' I hope you enjoy: ) -- -- She sang for him gently, her voice echoing off the mountainside, forming secret chords that hovered for a moment before disappearing into the dark night. He listened reverently, taking in her voice as it rose and fell, his heart swelling and deflating as the melody took him to another place. He usually could n't stand music; the entertainers in his father's court, with their overdramatic crooning, set him on edge. But her…her voice made him want to cry words of praise from the mountaintops, to no one in particular. She was just his father's ward, he knew, but she might one day be his bride. And it baffled him to learn that he loved her. They were so young. The night was new. Her voice crescendoed. And he loved her. -- -- He stumbled upon her bathing in the river, glistening and naked, running her hands through her long, dark hair. He was overcome by her beauty, the way the moonlight shimmered on her skin. The girl his father had taken in–the woman, now–spotted him and laughed playfully. `` Come with me,'' she said, her voice a low whisper. She led him through a secret back entrance to his father's estate, into a long-abandoned kitchen. Before he had a chance to say a word, she kissed him, a long kiss, building in passion and intensity. Through the long night, he felt as though she was breaking him. No longer holding back, words of love and praise left his lips. He loved her so. She had been his, but she was leaving. And he longed for her. -- -- Many years later, she returned to the place she'd grown up, the estate she'd been sent to as a child, the home of the man she'd been betrothed to before she left, abruptly. How long it's been since I've been here, she thought, I've walked these floors a thousand times, yet it seems like lifetimes ago. She stepped outside onto the terrace, and spotted his family's flag on the marble archway, its once proud green and gold hanging in tatters. It was a cold and broken symbol of their failure and loss, of all that had changed since they were children here. She was foolish to believe that her love could save her country, just as he was foolish to believe his love could save her. But they were wrong, and now her country and their love lay in ruins. She had loved him, but he betrayed her. -- -- She found him sitting by the river, his back to her. Her once-lover was staring at something unseen in the distance. She drew her bow, silent as the night. If there was anything she'd learned over the years, it was how to shoot somebody, even in the dead of night. She watched as he slowly stood up and turned around, facing his inevitable fate. He did n't cry out, nor did he beg her to lower her bow, to see the light. They both were cold and broken, the years of war and betrayal had shattered their love like crystalline glass. She released her bow. The arrow flew through the night, striking true. She stepped across the grass, gently, lovingly, silent in the moonlight as she knelt down and remembered… He was her friend. He was her lover. He had been her betrothed and she was to be his lady. And then she left him, and he betrayed her. He betrayed his country. The weight of it all, their story, her flight, his treason, seemed to spiral around the pair. The wind picked up, blowing her hair in every direction. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. His life spilled out onto the ground. She touched his hair, she closed his eyes. She lay her bow on top of him, gently, with a lover's touch. With care, she sent both the man and the weapon that killed him floating down the river. As they disappeared from sight, she breathed a single, broken word: `` Hallelujah.''
[ IP ] Before It Consumes Me	`` No, you ca n't take this from me. I wo n't let you.'' the world crumbles around him. Ugly, cancerous growths clog the way. He remembers when the way was clear and vibrant and full of joy. Now all he sees is his own mortality. He huddles against a rotting wall. `` Do you hear me? I'm not letting you take it!'' he screams to the sky, or rather where the sky once was. In his hands he clutches it tightly. So tightly that not even its joyful rays can escape. To him, this intangible golden thing is more important now than it ever was. Without it, he has nothing. With it, he's still him. This is it, the last happy memory. `` You have to let go.'' the voice thunders from the heavens. It should be familiar to him, as it was earlier. But now, much like his own name, remembrance eludes him. `` I need this... I... I need...'' his voice fade as the shattered remains of his own mind close in. He looks down and finds that one of the growths has taken him. He could n't run even if he wanted to. Not that he has anywhere to run to. The contents of his mind have been put to the torch. There is no neural safe space, no mental fortress to retreat to. All he has is here, and a golden moment. `` You willingly gave your bad memories. This is no different. In order to be truly free you must let go.'' The voice sounds exasperated, annoyed. Maybe they have been at this for a while. Maybe he has fought to keep other memories. He curls up tightly around the moment. The growths crawl over him. Maybe they'll encapsulate him. Maybe he can live out the rest of his life with this moment. There is a sudden jolt around his hands. A ray escapes from between his loosed fingers. He panics and tries to clamp down harder but he finds that he ca n't. More of the light is escaping. It throws momentary warmth across the dead landscape of his mind. But it is fleeting. He is desperate to keep the rest of that light for himself. Try as he might, his hands slowly release. Soon the gap will be wide enough for the moment to escape. And the he'll have nothing. He ca n't fight it. Ultimately he will lose. `` Let me see it. One last time.'' he concedes finally. He feels defeated and weak. The struggle stops. His hands are free. `` Very well.'' the voice says. After a moment he releases his hands. The light is blindingly brilliant. It consumes him. The ruins fade away. The growths recede. The sky is a deep blue. The same blue as the calm sea underneath it. A shore of bleached white sand stretches out ahead of him. The sun illuminates a paradise. He does n't care about the scenery, however. A woman in her twenties embraces him. Her warmth is more filling and completing than any perfect beach. She looks up at him and smiles. He smiles back and he drinks in her features. Mousy brown hair, amber eyes, skin the colour of honey. He wishes so dearly that he could remember her name, or why they are embracing. He enjoys it nonetheless. His eyes close and he tightens his grip around her. He opens his eyes to an empty beach. The sky is beginning to fade away and the sea is drying up. `` No... please.'' he whimpers. `` It has to be this way.'' the voices rumbles. `` I need her...'' `` You need who?'' asks the voice. `` The woman! The woman on the beach!!'' as he says it he looks down and sees the rotted stone of his mind. `` I do n't see any woman here.'' the voice is soothing, calming. `` She was right here, I know it. She was here with the light!'' `` I do n't seem to recall a light. Are you sure you're not misremembering?'' Finally, he understands what the voice is doing. Growths crowd around him as he screams his last defiance. ... He sits in a strange place. The walls are all rotted through and strange things hang from them. He thinks he may have forgotten something. He does n't know why, but it makes him sad. `` Hello?'' A voice asks from very far away. He looks up to find the source, but all he sees is a dusty, pale sky. He feels like the sky should be blue. `` Who are you?'' he asks. `` I am a friend. My name is Five.'' That makes sense. He must have friends. But that raises another important question, `` Then who am I?'' `` You are called Seventeen.'' That does n't seem right. `` Why are we named after numbers?'' `` Because we are all friends, Seventeen. Do n't you want to have friends?'' Seventeen thinks that makes sense. He nods along. `` Yes I'd like that.'' says Seventeen. `` Good. You have many friends out here. If you think about waking up then you can come meet them.'' the Voice is inviting. Seventeen wants to meet his friends. But he is n't sure he wants to leave. `` Could I stay here? It would just be for a little while. I feel wrong.'' `` Of course you can. When you feel up to it, your friends can help. They ca n't wait to meet you.'' The voice fades away. Seventeen is fairly sure that he's alone now. He looks at his hands expectantly. Nothing happens. Nothing feels right at all. He sits there, with his arms around his legs and wishes he could remember.
[ WP ] Everyone who turns 30 is forgiven a single criminal act of choice they commit on their birthday .	I drop the gun on the ground, and smile. There are so many laws, so many rules. How do you choose which one? You're given one free pass. How to make the most of it? People see the youth differently nowadays. Fear in their eyes. They're all so very careful. Murder can be forgiven. Never forget that. Keep track of your friends' birthdays. Keep your drivers license hidden. Do n't ever show anyone when you turn 30. It's dangerous information. False months, false days, false years. Given everyone a different fake day. Maybe even give them the real day, bluff them out. Nobody gives out the real day, right? You have to make plans. You have to make decisions. You only get one chance. One single act. Make it count. But the thing is, you're not the only one. 365 days in the year. You have one of those days. Nowadays, with around 10 billion people on the planet, something like over 15000 people are born the exact same day you were, in one country alone. Account for deaths, emmigration, fools, and cowards, and you have at least five thousand good people who turn 30 on the exact same day you do. Five thousand crimes to be committed, all guilt-free. So many laws, so many rules. How do you choose which one to break? You do n't. That's small-time. Steal, cheat, kill. Single acts. Done, forgiven, and lost to memory by the time you turn 35. Who wants to waste their one good act on something so petty? Five thousand big crimes in a single day. Job prospects are n't bright. Anyone under 30 is considered a liability to their place of employment. You never know who will go postal, who will rob their bosses or shoot Beth from accounting in the back of the head. You never know who will just empty the register and walk away at the end of the day. The day after you turn 30, your job prospects skyrocket. Five thousand people. Unemployed, disgruntled, feared. Five thousand crimes, each and every day. Do you have any idea how much potential this system has? People think too small-time. But put them together, give them an idea, and watch them run wild. The key is charisma. You have to convince people that they're going to waste their day. They need to know that your idea is n't just better than their's; your idea is the only worthwhile idea out there. You have to convince people that they would never want to hurt you, that they need you. First, a few simple crimes. The right people at the right time. A few people working together to do something fun. Breaking and entering. Armed robbery. You have to start with the more courageous or more foolish. Sometimes they'll even do multiple crimes; if you get away with one the morning of your birthday, why not try another? Why not keep going until either the sun sets or the police are aiming at your chest? Be in the right place at the right time. You need equipment. You need plans, tools, power. You need people. Printing machines. The best counterfeiters are the ones who use the real deal. Find someone to steal the machine on their birthday, find someone else to print the money. The best part? There's no pressure to snitch. If you only committed one crime, you have no reason to name names and point fingers. And that's assuming you get caught. There, now you have funding. That's the second step. Now you can get more people with ease. Throw around enough money, and people will keep coming back for more. Show people that their birthday can get them rich, and they'll throw their birth certificate at you in a heartbeat. Larceny, assault, attempted murder... most people are either too greedy, too weak-willed, or too nice to choose these. Not when they're given a better option. Five thousand people, every single day. Given enough time and resources, and you can have yourself an army. I had all the time, and now I had the resources. That's the one good thing that came out of this fucked up system; people feared the young. With fear, comes respect. Even if the kid in front of you can hardly grow proper facial hair, he can still do some serious damage. I had ten long years to set up the greatest event in history. The one crime is n't enough, sadly. The counterfeiters were n't allowed to pull off anything else - could n't have them bringing the whole system down around us. But the others... identity fraud is n't really that big of a deal. Not to kids who are considering the prospects of robbery and murder. An ID badge here, a birth certificate there... you did n't think I only stole the money printers, did you? Still thinking small time. Hundreds of false identities. Hundreds of kids with a crime to commit, trusted to be adults and work a 9 to 5 like every other fool who passed his 30th birthday. You now have access to all the companies that would never consider hiring you. Keeping track of all the birthdays was probably the toughest part. Windows of opportunity are small, and have to be seized. Everyone has to believe that their birthday will be worth it, else the 3 of diamonds at the bottom of the house gets swiped and the whole thing comes tumbling down. Get a few specialists. Artists. Musicians. Programmers. Fighters. Give a kid enough time on his hands and precious few job prospects, and he might just acquire a few useful skills. You have enough money, you have enough people. Keep building up the house. The day's almost here. Five thousand people, each and every day. How many can you find? How many can you hire? Well, the first time we got a beautiful, mature secretary into the census bureau, that was Christmas in July. On her birthday, we got all we needed. These old fools thought just as small-time as all the kids I had at my beck and call. On that day, she handed in her resignation, and went off to be her own person. A wealthy, independent 30 year old, whose birthday crime was simple identity fraud. Now we had the list. Every single kid who's given one chance to make the most of his 30th birthday. Five thousand people, every single day. That's my estimation for how many useful people can get away with a single crime, every day. It's a pretty good estimation. Four thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine people, give or take. That's the number of people who could join me for the big day. Programmers, musicians, artists, fighters. Marksmen. Chemists and home-brewed engineers. Explosives. Beautiful fireworks. The crowd's cheering dies away, as the music stops, and the backup singer pulls off his silly hat and steps forward into the light. You have to wear a nice tuxedo for your big day. A tap of the mic, a clearing of the throat. Off with the sunglasses. Big, bright smile for the camera. The murmurs from the crowd start to grow. `` Hello, everyone. Welcome to the festival. I'm glad you could all make it out here for my birthday.'' Silence. You could hear a pin drop. Birthday? Not his 30th. Could n't be. What's he here for? `` No, you're not in any danger. I'm not here to commit a crime. I've already done that. No, I'm here to announce my crime to the entire world. I want you all to know what I am forgiven for, on this beautiful day.'' Tranquilizer rounds. Stun grenades. Sleeping gas. All non-lethal weaponry. This is n't for bloodshed, even if you can get away with it. `` Fifteen thousand, five hundred and seventy six people were born on this day, three decades ago. I am one of those lucky kids, celebrating his birthday. Of those fifteen thousand, only five thousand actually made good use of his birthday crime. All five thousand of those kids will be forgiven for what they've done.'' Each man to a guard. Three dozen guards, three dozen marksmen. Five fighters, to move in as the honor guard. `` Some of them are here today, in this crowd. Some of them are out there now, proudly committing their crimes for all the world to see.'' Twelve programmers, the best of the best. Two demolitions experts. Twenty-seven employees in one company alone. Twenty-seven! Even in my wildest dreams I did n't think it'd be this easy. Getting access was simple, keeping it was a bit more tough. Twenty of those employees were risking about a decade of jail time with the extra crimes they were committing, but we all knew this was worth it. Everything is automated these days. So what happens when you pull the plug? All we needed were the important computers. A USB stick here, a password there, and you get everything you need. Wireless connections to all the programmers back home. The command was automated. No watches to synchronize here. Just press a button. But first, you have to make a point. Three dozen guards down. Five fighters as the honor guard, heavily armed and armored. One mobile programmer, two demolitions experts. Forty-seven employees, scattered throughout all the major news stations. Sleeping gas. Stun grenades. These few criminals were the ones risking it all - they were the ones committing enough crimes to put them away for life. The hotel's top floor exploded, the roof soaring high into the sky, shattered into a thousand pieces. One helicopter pilot, flying in a no-fly zone. What a simple little crime. Two kidnapped victims. Counting up all the planted employees, demolitions experts, programmers, you have well over seven hundred 30-year old criminals. The cameras were all pointed at the hotel. But at just the right time, their feeds were cut. Back to the stage. Behind the well-dressed gentleman, screens lit up. The face they all knew so well. The President of the United States, her eyes like fire, but her face as calm as stone. Does n't crack under pressure. We counted on it. The whirr of helicopter blades sent a buzz through the crowd. `` Today, I am forgiven for treason.'' The helicopter flew off. A circle of onlookers suddenly rushed forward, wrists handcuffed together. The cameras flicked to the circle, then back to the stage. [ Continued! ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3b7ywm/wp_everyone_who_turns_30_is_forgiven_a_single/csk4a7c )
[ WP ] Most mutants are not superheroes or villains , but suffer terribly from powers which afflict their bodies and sometimes make them a danger to others . You are a doctor in Professor X 's lesser-known Sanitorium for Unfortunate Children . These are their stories .	I changed the bandages of another patient, mindlessly whistling while I cleaned the wound and dressed it, just so. Some of their injuries were caused by deleterious powers, some by self harm, but no matter. My procedure was always the same, and it always worked. Like I had thousands of times before, I lay my hands over the bandages and whispered the word. It was an ancient word, irreproducible in any modern writing system, lost to all but a few. Most who know it are merely scholars of ancient medicinal arts, able to say the word but not truly feel it. These take the word to mean `` healing,'' for it was used by the great and powerful healers of old. And at first glance, it would appear they are right. For in the legends, when a healer spoke this word to a patient, their maladies were miraculously cured. However, I know the word's harsher truth. As I spoke it, felt its sharp edges tear through my lips, my body was wracked with pain and weakness. I felt the knife the boy had used to give himself these wounds slice through my arms, my chest, pierce my heart, though I showed no outward signs of such injuries. As the pain dulled to an ache, the world grew dark around the edges, and I fought, with every ounce of strength I had left, for my consciousness. `` Are you all right, Galena?'' Professor X asked as he descended the stairs, concern coloring his voice. `` Yes, fine,'' I responded, hastening to stand up and put a cheerful smile on my face. Professor X gave a pointed look at the boy. `` He should recover as well. He is very lucky.'' `` Lucky indeed,'' the Professor replied. `` As are most of your patients. You truly have a gift for healing.'' I smiled despite myself. Though I knew the true cost of my `` gift,'' I delighted in knowing how many people could be cured through my pain. And, rather more selfishly, I delighted in the praise it brought me. Through medical school and residency I was lauded for my talent. My professors told me I was a natural, that I had a healing touch and a soothing personality to match. One of them, Professor Xiao, offered me a position in his hospital immediately after I completed residency. It was a small children's hospital, he told me, but the pay would be good and the benefits generous. To anyone else, it would seem like a normal children's hospital; the rooms were painted bright yellows and greens, there were toys on the ground, books on the shelves. But just before I donned my scrubs for my first day on the job, Professor Xiao told me the truth about the children. `` They're all mutants,'' he whispered, not wanting to cause a scene. `` Their genome was altered, somehow, so that they can do incredible things, but are also harmful to themselves and others. Their presence in society could wreak havoc, so we keep them safe and care for them here.'' I stared at him and the hospital in disbelief. Not because I could not believe his story about mutants, no, but because I could not believe that there were others like me, a name for what we were, and someone else who knew. `` I know you do n't believe me, Galena'' he said, `` but I shall show you it's true.'' I threw myself into my work there, becoming not only a doctor for the children but a companion and confidante, someone who would be there for them and understand, when it seemed the whole world had turned its back. I remembered my painful childhood; ostracized by my friends, my peers, and my own family, I grew up alone and afraid. Before I discovered the word, and with it, my power, people could tell I was different. Humanity has developed an incredible sixth sense–the sense of `` otherness'' –and a ruthless ability to do away with that which is strange to them. After the word became known to me, their fears were validated. For you see, in another frame of mind, the word works quite differently. I could use it to hurt another, at will, to the benefit of myself. I discovered this use first, and, in fits of rage, would wield it to get back at those who shunned me. It gave me a rush of power, of energy, of life, to use it this way. No longer was I timid and afraid, no. I was feared. I discovered the word's other use a year later. I was fighting with my younger sister, a sweet, innocent girl. Over what, I do n't remember. In the midst of our row, I shouted the word at her, with all the anger and force I could muster. She collapsed to the ground, first writhing in pain, then lifeless and limp. I ran to her, crying, appalled at what I had done. `` Maria!'' I shouted `` My sister... my sister...'' Without thinking, I concentrated the rush of power, the energy, the life that the word had just given me, placed my hands gently on her head, and whispered the word again. The moment I said it, I felt my body convulse with an unimaginable pain, the very pain Maria must have felt moments before. Just before I passed out, I saw her open her eyes. After that day, I only used the word to benefit others. I did not know how it would ultimately affect me, but I knew, deep down, that every time I used it, I was giving away little bits of my life. Eventually, there will be nothing left to give, without taking life from another. Already, it has become harder and more painful for me to heal. I have long since made my peace with this fact. If I must go, I will go giving my last breath away so another might live.
[ WP ] Write about a world where human sexual dimorphism is reversed in some way .	Lori looked over the hair care products. They were out of her favorite mustache wax again. How was she supposed to have sexy facial hair if she could n't even groom it properly. It was n't as if she was looking to objectify herself with a beard so bushy that you could n't see her body behind it. She just wanted to be fashionably styled. She sighed and stroked the thick braid hanging from her chin. Maybe she should just start ordering it online. Picking up a lesser brand, Lori made her way to the front of the store. The pimply little dweeb behind the counter kept ogling her beard. `` Will there be anything else?'' he asked, not taking his eyes off her chin. `` No,'' she said flatly. What a creep. He did n't even take care of himself. Men should n't have that much hair on their upper lip, that was for sure.
[ WP ] You wake up one day to find that you can only tell lies . You 're an honest person , so you try to tell the truth through lies .	`` Your rent is late,'' the fat landlord said as I opened the door. God knows I hated that place but it was the only one I could afford in London. I was working on as a waiter back then to pay the bills, though my ambitions were far greater than serving customers at a burger joint. The flat was small and stern, the walls were humid and the heat never worked. I looked at him, my mouth twisting in disgust, a short and corpulent prick of a man with a bulbous nose and hairy ears. He was always ringing at my doorbell and asking me to pay the rent despite knowing my financial problems; he threatened to kick me out so many times I knew what he was about to say. `` If you do n't pay by tomorrow, I'll kick you out!'' And I was right. I closed the door at his face and went to my small kitchen. The kettle was on the stove, heating water for my tea. Every day of my life for the past ten years, I'd wake up, boil water and make myself an early grey tea, then I'd drink it and shower. So I did, I enjoyed my tea and dipped some biscuits in it, eating cautiously as not to waste my food; I was running low on cash. Then I went for a cold shower, as I always do... Cold showers are said to make you more productive, and I enjoy the refreshing feeling of the water on my skin. I came out after five minutes or so, and sponged myself with some towel. Once I was dressed in my grey suit, the one I wore on Saturdays, I decided to go to the bank and look at my poor finances and try to withdraw the hundred quid I owed the landlord. I had no car, so I had to take the tube, the bank I went to was not far from my flat. I entered the bank and looked at the people waiting in line to talk to the employee. I enjoyed waiting in line, unlike most people, it gave me the opportunity to think about where I was going. Nowhere, is what I thought at the time. It was a regular Saturday, and nothing was unusual that day save for what was about to happen. The woman behind me patted my shoulder gently to talk to me. At the very moment I set my eyes on her, my heart skipped a beat. She was the most beautiful girl I'd ever met, her eyes were like sapphires in the snow, and her hair like a golden waterfall. `` Do you mind if I go first?'' She asked me in a small and melodic voice, she was not from London. `` I am in a hurry.'' I smiled to her and nodded my head twice in sign of approval though I heard myself say `` Of course not.'' I did not understand, I wanted to say `` yes!'' but I said no. I stammered and tried to correct myself. `` I-I mean n-no... Uh... n-no...'' I did not understand why I could not say what I wanted. The fair woman looked at me like I was some lunatic taking the piss out of her! I silenced myself, my eyes widened and the apple in my throat went up and down. `` I am not sorry, you may not go first.'' I wanted to slap myself, what was happening? The girl turned on her heels and dared not look at me anymore. What was happening with me? Was I sick? It did not make sense, I'd never been like this before so why was it happening now? I waited in line and walked up to the employee, my passport was in my hand to prove my identity. I tried to remain quiet in case this would happen again. `` Good day, sir,'' she said. She was an older woman, with grey hair and brown eyes. She was clad in her working outfit, some grey skirt and jacket with a white shirt. `` Bad day to you too.'' I replied. Fuck me, I thought. She looked at me like the pretty girl had looked at me, like I was crazy. At this moment, I was beginning to think that this was true. `` This is n't my passport,'' I pushed the passport forward shaking my head. `` I mean, it does not belong to make.'' The woman seemed angrier than before, tired of my involuntary little games. `` Does it belong to you or not?'' I could sense that she was tired of me. `` No!'' I retorted in half a heartbeat. I was getting angry at myself as well, what cruel trick was God playing on me? `` I am honest when I say it is n't mine!'' I could not get any truth out of my mouth. The woman shifted on her seat, adjusting herself to a more comfortable position. `` What do you want?'' She questioned me, feeling almost threatened. Fuck, what will I say? I clenched my fists, trying to fight the urge to say something else. `` I do n't want money.'' I punched my thigh angrily, biting my bottom lip. `` I need no money.'' The woman was about to call security, pressing on some button behind the desk. `` Then why are you here?'' I considered her, trying to mimic the action of speaking without actually saying the words hoping to control myself this time. `` Take... money...'' was all I could reply. `` Take money?'' she raised her voice, her eyebrows raising up to the middle of her forehead. She somehow thought I wanted to rob the bank! Me, a robber? I did n't even carry any weapon... Or did I? Fuck, the pocket knife. My grandfather gave me a pocket knife when I was a child, one of his old army knives. He served in the Air Force for twenty years back in the days before he was hurt and had to retire. I always kept the knife on me, not to use it but as a good luck charm for it saved his life. She pressed the button and called the security. I panicked and set my right hand on her desk, raising my own voice. `` I am robbing the bank!'' I knew I was fucked at this point... `` This is a hold-up, I am gon na take your money!'' So much for the luck charm... The security arrived and I was tackled onto the ground; before I knew it, my hands were cuffed and they'd taken my knife. They had proof, video tape and I could n't even say what I meant to say! How could I argue in court? I was going to spend my life in prison and there was nothing I can do. Today, I have not recovered from this traumatic experience and I can now tell the truth. That is why I am writing this story to let you know what happened to me and how I was unjustly accused and convicted. Though I reckon that if you read this, you may wonder if I am truthful or still jinxed with this inability to tell the truth. May be I spent too much time telling lies and they became a part of me, I can never know and neither can you.
[ WP ] Every night , while people sleep , they can check their 'stats . ' One night , you discover something surprising .	[ Mildly NSFW ] The sheets had already been strewn across the room, their clothes too. The temperature had already risen a couple of degrees, but there were other things on both Adam and Sara McMillan's minds. Mainly one another, and how badly they wanted each other then and there. They wrestled and tussled across the bed in their passion until Adam finally rolled off of her and promptly fell asleep. Typical, Sara thought as the fog of sleep started to take her as well. A little pillow-talk and cuddling would be nice once in a while. She let the blackness slowly pour over her mind as she waited for the `` menu'' to appear. She had n't brought it up to anyone, but was n't really sure how to approach it. Before they had been married, she could only see her own personal information. Since then, she could monitor his as well. Yes dear, I can tell you've been working out. No, the `` start your own business'' books have n't been making you a genius. You need to cut down on the potato chips, you'll give yourself a heart attack. Once again, how do you bring up such matters when you're not supposed to know their effects? The cascade of off-white round-cornered tiles filled her dream-vision as the menu slowly materialized. She scrolled through them, quickly reading each heading before moving on. Where to start tonight? 'Sara', it had been obvious from the start that this was all about her.'Party', this had only had her direct family in it until she'd moved away for school. Her pet cat, Toby had shown up when she brought him home from the shelter 5 years ago. Boyfriends would come and go, and then Adam came to stay.'Inventory', her stuff... and boy, did she have a lot of it.'Log', the days events, interpreted by your interactions with them. There were exclamation points by all of them, meaning something had changed. There was nothing very interesting in the log. Talked for a total of 52 minutes with Steve ( stupid lunch meeting... ), walked 3.7 kilometers ( uh oh, should have taken the stairs. That's a drop from normal ), created 17 new documents consisting of 7 MB worth of data ( Well, at least I did something today ). She panned over to the inventory. On looking at the list in more detail, the exclamation points sat beside items in her pantry. 3 kg bag of rice: SPOILED, bag of salted sunflower seeds: SPOILED, the list continued. Looks like the mice are back. I'll ask Adam to put out the traps again. She went to check on her party. The normal two rows popped up. An exclamation mark appeared next to Adam's name. With a level of stress that registered in her sleeping body as a nervous shiver, she looked at his profile in deeper detail. Please do n't be something wrong. Oh God, please do n't let my jokes about his heart be true. She pored over the data quickly, and let out a sigh of relief. Next to his STA number, it had small pulsating words:'LEVEL UP!'. Her sleeping form let out a chuckle as if having a good dream as all worry left her. I guess our fun tonight scored you some points, hun. As she zoomed back out to look at the party again, a 3rd row appeared. What's this? she thought as she selected the row marked'Beatrice'. All of the normal stats that she could read on herself, or Adam, or even Toby were all marked'Pending' except for one. 'HP: 1/1' At once, the realisation made the menu disappear and she woke with a gasp, staring at the moonlit ceiling above their bed. Her heart beat fast, not expecting to wake with such a start. She lay there panting and passed one hand over her stomach. Her lips curled in a coy smile. She rolled on her side towards her husband, draping her arm across his supine form. Adam half-woke, turned over and murmured `` Hmmm?... You okay?...'' She lightly kissed him and said `` No, I just wanted you to know I love you.'' Adam was able to mumble `` Mmmm... love you too...'' before his slipped back to sleep. Sara continued her coy smile as she slipped into a dream, curled around her man, In the morning, I have so much to tell you...
[ WP ] We sketch monsters on the map because we find their presence comforting . They protect us from what lies beyond ...	`` What's this one, papa?'' `` That's the Bearzal, keeper of Southeast.'' Betty ran her small finger over a rough sketch of a strange, winged creature, `` I like it, the Bearzal! Oh, what's this one?'' she said and pointed out another crude drawing placed high on the map. 'This is Sleneta. She keeps the entire North on her own. She has antlers bigger than our whole house!'' `` Really?'' `` Really.'' Thomas made to refold the map, but Betty stuck her hand out to stop him. `` I want to be like Slen... Sleneta when I'm older.'' Thomas smiled thinly. Betty, only five, was innocent of the truth now. But soon she would start school and learn the real meaning of her new favourite thing, Sleneta, and the other eleven beasts that guarded the boundary of their continent. She would learn about the hundreds of years of Human sacrifice's to appease the Monsters. And she'd learn to accept their expensive protection, just like he had. `` Can we visit Sleneta?'' she said, beaming up at him. `` No, punkin. She ca n't ever be distracted.'' `` Why not? What's she waiting for?'' Thomas tapped the image of Sleneta; drawn with five arms and cloven legs. `` Something we do n't want to meet again.''
[ WP ] Everyone knows the monsters come out after dark . `` After dark '' is technically morning , when humans `` come out . ''	Mama tells us scary stories when it starts to get light outside; sometimes we like to flirt with the sunbeams outside the cave, knowing full well that just brushing one will turn us to stone. The story tonight is about people, who creep out of their homes in the early morning when all the troll-children are asleep. She tells us that when people awake from their sleep they rub their mouth-bones with a hairy stick, drink a cup of crushed bean juice, read the newspaper, and then sneak into troll holes with a club and bonk troll children on the head, carrying them away in a sack. I did n't believe until I was sleeping one day and heard a whine come from beneath my bed. I peered over the edge slowly and saw one horrible tendril of long, golden hair. I made eye contact with it, those horrible blue eyes. I screamed. It screamed. I tried to run before it could bonk me on the head with a club and carry me away in a sack, but my feet tangled in the blanket and I fell over, right on top of the little girl. She was n't so scary - sort of pretty actually. But I did n't want her to eat me and use my bones to repair it's car, like Mama says people do to little trolls. `` Stop! Stop! Please do n't eat me!'' the people said. `` Only if you do n't eat me! '' I said, rolling off of her, `` And where did you learn to speak troll?'' `` We're speaking american, not troll.'' she said. `` Well if you're not going to eat me, what are you doing in here?'' I said. `` Hiding...'' she said, rubbing her elbow. I felt a pang of.. empathy? But I had to keep my guard up. I would n't fall for people tricks, like getting a job in sales or having children. `` Hiding from what?'' I said. `` A man... a man in the woods who took me from my family's cabins. I think he wants to hurt me, or get money from my dad.'' `` Did he... put you in a sack?'' I asked. `` No... but he tied me up and covered my eyes?'' she said. `` Oh...'' I said. I began to think that perhaps there are good peoples and bad peoples, and that those same bad peoples I was afraid of were the ones trying to hurt the little girl. I did n't want anybody to be taken away in a sack. So early that night me, mama, and papa, and all our brothers and sisters went for a stroll in the woods. And when we came across the man carrying some rope and a sack, Mama ate him whole, spat out the bones, and we used them fix our car.
( WP ) You die and wake up in a massive waiting room for the afterlife , and everyone must wait 20 years after they die to get in to the afterlife . Who do you talk with to pass the time ? ( Cross-post from r/askreddit )	`` Did you ever read Bobok?'' I had no idea who this man was, but we had a whole lot of time to kill. I noticed, however, that the man standing next to him had turned toward him at the word `` Bobok'' with an amazingly intense expression of hatred. `` I have n't read it,'' I said. `` I have n't heard of it, come to think of it.'' `` It's a Dostoevsky short story,'' the man replied. `` A guy sitting a graveyard finds himself hearing the conversations of the dead.'' I did n't give half a shit, but the dude seemed to want to talk, so I said, `` Oh?'' `` Yeah, in the story, the dead people can still talk to each other in their coffins. They gradually lose coherence as their bodies decay, and then there's nothing else after that -- no heaven or whatever.'' `` I see.'' `` They talk about the stuff they did in life, but as they decay things get worse. One body in the graveyard ca n't do anything anymore but intermittently shout'Bobok.' Whatever the hell that means. But everyone knows that, really, it wo n't be long until they're at the same place he is.'' `` Oh.'' `` The story ends when the living dude sneezes or something, and the dead people realize they're being listened to and shut up.'' I made no reply. It was n't as though I could n't connect this with our situation, waiting as we were to be let out of whatever purgatory this was supposed to be. I did n't think it was that great of a connection, though, and frankly I still just did n't give a shit. After a few moments of my silence, the man turned to walk away. The man who had been next to him turned to me and shook his head with a look of anger. I could n't tell if he was mad at the other stranger, or at me for encouraging him. The stranger found someone else and said, `` Did you ever read Bobok?'' The other man threw up his hands and cursed, walking in the other direction.
[ WP ] [ EU ] ( LoTR ) The five wizards ( Istari ) still roam the earth in modern days .	`` Blast it...'' `` Something the matter, Alatar?'' The tall man grumbled, his hands fumbling as he daintily reached inside the toaster to fish out two charred pieces of toast. `` I never did master this contraption,'' Alatar said simply, finally plucking out the blackened toast and setting it on a dirty plate. The kitchen was cramped and piled high with dishes, and he had to twist around a particularly impressive stack to reach the cutlery. Pallando laughed. `` We've had that contraption for fifty years. It does not seem to like you very much.'' Sitting down amidst yellowing stacks of newspaper, Alatar began to spread butter onto his toast in long, agile strokes, as Pallando turned a page. The two were dressed not in robes, but hooded jackets of sea blue. Both kept closely trimmed beards, and kept their silver hair short. Humming contentedly, Alatar ate as Pallando read. `` Any word?'' Pallando squinted at the page. `` Horoscopes read by Michael the Mystic...'' Both wizards paused for a moment and broke into fits of laughter, Alatar spilling crumbs on his jacket. Pallando wiped a tear from his eye and grinned, scanning the page again. `` That aside, it does not look as though the other three will be showing themselves at any moment soon. I worry for them.'' Alatar finished his toast and set the plate atop the stoutest of the stacks. `` We will find them.''
[ IP ] A thiefling	The new Veteran had to put on her friendly face for the portrait, for it was time for her to be immortalized in our guild. She has done her time here, and she has been welcomed ever since her first job was successful. She remembers it fondly, as it was the one we set her up to fail. Stealing a diamond from the Referrism Estate in lower Drudge. Every old thief in our guild had tried and failed to retrieve that diamond, even myself, for the true inheritor, the one who gave us the contract, with little to no information on it. Many a trial and error it took to get a basic map of the castle it resided. We never would ’ ve guessed it was a hidden, far back room, inside a hidden vault, only her mind could ’ ve pieced that together. At last, the painter sets up and we sully the new Veteran into the room. Donned fully in her family's armor, the painter gave his compliments and began working his magic on the canvas. “ Alas, 5th year in the Guild, and now I will qualify to submit to the Vow. The welcoming is tonight, if I recall, Ser Yuo? ” said Victoria. “ And that it is, Noble. If it weren ’ t for that we would use you more often ” I replied. “ Why do you keep me so locked away so? Am I not worthy of the higher contract? ” “ No, it ’ s just that you are the Daughter of a Noble, and your family may not hold it ’ s power, you are still of Noble birth. It looks bad if you are killed or captured, also bad for your family as well, and me. ” The painter opted for Victoria to keep still for her portrait. She smiled while so, not many ‘ smilers ’ in the Grand Hall. Ever since this youngling came into our ranks as a 9-year-old from a collapsed family, I was tasked as the Guardian, but she took great interest in our works. Now she walks in ours, just like I, a thief. I opted not to give her any Big Jobs until she was of age, she just wasn ’ t ready enough for one, I kept telling myself. Eventually, I gave into her demands, and they gave her the Referrism Estate, the one we ’ ve all tried our damnedest, I knew then they didn ’ t want her to be a part of the guild, just like that, because of her connections to me. The painter opted for Victoria to rest now and said that he could finish it by the time of the feast. Poor girl, she didn ’ t even know how to properly swing a sword straight, and there she stood with her father ’ s sword in the hilt and mothers out in the open. She ’ s recently been begging for me to teach her, but I tell her the same thing, I can ’ t swing one either. The only place she could learn is the Assassins, but that bunch has always been ones to prey on the young and corrupt them to their backward ways. “ So who are all to join us at the feast? ” questioned Victoria. “ Everyone except for the Fresno. Party. That bunch never shows up to get-togethers. 2 thieves charged with the ‘ Quarry ’ won ’ t be there. They ’ re stuck there until morning arrives, some magic-ward thing. They all send their welcomes, however, ” I replied. It was high 4, time to make our way to the Grand Hall, the painter had the painting veiled and ready for presenting. It was time to see the orphan girl be welcomed into our Ranks. The third elf in the Guild's history to do so. She got out of her armor and got into a Dress, and we made our way down.
[ WP ] Teleportation has been invented . While researching the portals function signs of a consciousness within are detected .	`` It's time for the daily checks. Let's make it quick. ``, Sam ordered, moving over to one of the nearby computer screens. His pristine suit and hair a stark contrast to the cluttered work space. One of the other two men in the room, Uriel, moved over to the portal controls, he was older, grey speckling his once brown hair. The last man, James, moved over to the actual portal, he was younger than the other two men, still a look of hope and youth on his face. `` Attach the cables please, James. ``, Sam asked, watching the monitors carefully. `` On it.'' James responded, quickly completing his task as he had done a thousand times before. A small spark emitted from the portal and he jumped back. `` Do n't worry, James. Levels are still stable. Uriel, run diagnostics. ``, Sam said, tapping the screen. Uriel merely nodded and flipped a couple of switches. The machines hummed and whirred as the portal throbbed for around five minutes before Uriel looked up at portal. `` Nobody is cleared for teleportation right?'' Uriel questioned. `` Of course not. All teleportation is stopped at this time. What are you seeing?'' Sam answered, moving away from his computer screen and walking over to Uriel. `` There is a consciousness speaking out through the portal. Or so it appears.'' the older man responded, double checking his facts. `` There ca n't be. ``, James said, joining the other two men. `` What is it saying?'' The men peered at the screen watching as text scrolled up and then stopped at the top. Help us. We're stuck in here. Do NOT send anyone through the portals. They're not portals. They're traps. The people coming out the other side are not the people entering. They've taken our image. They've taken our lives. Do NOT let anyone else go through the portals. Please help us. The three men stood stunned. Sam was the first to break the silence. `` Destroy the portal. They're on to us.''
[ WP ] - You go back in time to watch Van Gogh paint 'Starry Night'.. It turns out what he painted were n't actually stars..	Do you ever wonder why the security at art galleries is so high, why there are velvet ropes, motion detectors and alarms put in place to deter visitors from getting up close to the paintings? Not to safeguard the art from theft – you can imagine how difficult it would be to carry out an unwieldy canvas amongst the hoards of onlookers. No, they are there to safeguard the art from the few who have figured out their great secret – that each artwork is a portal, leading back through time to the moment of the artwork ’ s conception. They are there to safeguard the art from greedy, careless time tourists, and more importantly from those who would use these portals to travel back in time and impact the circumstances of the artwork being made: not art thieves but art anachronists, as they are known in our community. What community might that be, you ask? Why the curators, of course, champions of the sanctity of art and art history since time immemorial. Art Facilitated Time Travel, or AFTT as the acronym goes, is not unrestricted time travel, not in the least. You can not choose the time which you can travel to, nor the length of your stay. But if you get close enough to a painting to stroke your fingers over the artist ’ s signature, gently, three times, an opening will make itself known, pulling you through the fabric of history and allowing you to watch that great artwork being made. There you are given a precious few minutes before being ejected back to the present time, the opening sealing itself shut once more. Do you ever feel an inexplicable urge to reach out and touch a gallery artwork despite the many signs, words of warning, and obvious social customs advising you not to? That ’ s the portal, calling you, drawing you in with a force as undeniable as gravity into its depths. A few disasters have slipped by in the course of history, paintings lost by artists startled during their creative process, their disappearance in the present day covered up with lies and falsified auctions. A number of artworks have regrettably been altered from their original state, although thankfully artists have always been thought of as an oblique and fanciful bunch, the oddities of their canvases played down as workings of their active imaginations. Throughout history generations of curators have had to make up all sorts of technical terms – everything from allegory to surrealism – to hide the evidence in plain and painted sight. The first time I experienced AFTT, the thrill was like nothing I had ever known. I can hear your gasp of disbelief – what, a curator as upstanding and celebrated as myself actually partaking in AFTT, not just cautioning against it? That ’ s wrong and against the rules, you may cry. Well – yes, you are quite right. But every job must have its perks. I did not spend years working up to this position, Chief Curator of MOMA, to sit on the sidelines. I who holds these masterpieces in higher esteem than anyone else possibly could. And it is not my wish to disrupt, only observe. I find that if one travels back and finds refuge, hiding themselves immediately upon arrival while the time haze is clearing, it is possible to spend some short minutes of bliss in the presence of the greats without leaving any trace. The things I have seen from the shadows behind old wardrobes, from the cracks between heavy drapes. To think that I looked on as Dali sketched out his dripping clocks; I watched as Matisse mixed the vibrant tones for The Dance; I inhaled the springtime scents of Monet ’ s sublime garden. Exquisite! This being the month of my retirement, I am growing short on opportunities to use my exclusive position for AFTT at my leisure. Though I will be granted a lifetime platinum membership to the gallery and invited to return for any number of exclusive events, gone will be the long hours after the museum doors close, when the crowds disappear and I am left alone with the art. But I am not a greedy man. I had traveled back through most of the paintings that has surrounded me throughout my career, and had saved the best, in my humble opinion, for last. I stepped towards Van Gogh ’ s Starry Night and stroked the painter ’ s signature with a practiced reverence. Arriving at my destination in a swirl of sensation not unlike that portrayed by the painting itself, I quickly adjusted my bearings and ducked beneath a narrow and somewhat dilapidated timber-framed bed, pressing my stomach against the cold, dusty floor. It was not the best vantage point, but it would do. I could just make out the characteristic red hair of my idol, head bent in concentration, furiously shaping in charcoal the vague draft of the painting I knew so well. As he looked up from his work, I naturally followed his gaze to the window, expectantly searching for the glowing night sky that inspired the piece. What I saw shocked me. Instead of a bright sky dotted with stars that I presumed I would see from the window, I saw nothing. The window had been completely boarded up. Marks and blemishes tainted the surface of the boards, which had been bolted firmly down. I squinted at the marks, which formed themselves into a pattern in my mind – one that I would have recognised anywhere. It was a rudimentary Starry Night – the deep holes forming the stars, a long vertical crack paralleling the position of the painting ’ s characteristic cedar tree. The more I stared as my eyes adjusted to the dark room, it seemed as though the marks were deliberate – angry dents made by someone throwing hard objects at the boards, crazed scratches, bruises and ( could it be? ) blood stains making up the dark composition. More than anything, it looked like the attempts of someone trying to tear down the board – someone trying to use the window as a means of escape. A feeling I had never experienced during my AFTT expeditions filled my gut: fear. Something wasn ’ t right about the scene around me. It was well-known that Van Gogh had fashioned his masterpiece from within a mental institution, but it was, according to history, an institution for the wealthy. He had checked himself in, for goodness sake! Much like when modern-day celebrities spend time in prison, this asylum was meant to have all the luxuries and conveniences of a gentleman ’ s normal life, simply set away from the public at large. But a luxurious scene was not what I saw around me. A tiny cell of a room, no ventilation or clue to the outside world, with nothing but a bed, a small stool and a faintly glowing lamp as its contents. I was startled out my observations by the movement of Van Gogh, dashing his stick of charcoal to the floor and groaning to himself. ‘ If only… ’ he muttered, head in his hands. I experienced another shock as I caught sight of his left ear: fully formed, completely intact. That should be long gone by now, surely – it was this act of self-mutilation that had led in some measure to Van Gogh ’ s institutionalisation in the first place. Van Gogh sighed, then dropped to his knees to reclaim his charcoal. I tried to squeeze myself further back away from the edge of the bed but it was too late – he had seen me. I watched his pale eyes widen in distress, when suddenly a loud knock from the room ’ s door made him straighten involuntarily. The door flew open, thudding loudly against the bed frame. ‘ Now what do we have here? ’, came a clear, cold voice. I heard the sound of paper rustling and Van Gogh protesting. ‘ Drawing again? You know you are forbidden from engaging in artistic pursuits while a patient at this clinic ’. Van Gogh mumbled something but the voice continued: ‘ Your brain is rotten, Monsieur Van Gogh. Letting out any further twisted expressions of your sick, crippled mind is not going to aid your recovery. What is this anyway? Rubbish. Scribbles and swirls and rubbish. It looks like hellfire to me. You need to purge yourself of these wicked expressions ’. I was holding my breath by this point. A brief squabble broke out and I heard Van Gogh cry out in pain. ‘ Do you understand, Monsieur Van Gogh? We ’ ve told you time and time again that this behaviour is forbidden, but our warnings seem to fall on deaf ears ’. A thud. A yelp. ‘ Or maybe you are not hearing correctly, Monsieur Van Gogh ’. The mystery voice was rising with every syllable, becoming more forceful, tone filled with disgust. ‘ Your ears are a gift from God, Monsieur Van Gogh. And if you are not going to use them correctly, perhaps we should take one from you ’. It was everything I could do not to gasp. A struggle had broken out when Van Gogh sobbed out. ‘ Help! ’ he screamed,'Please, help me! ’. I knew the cry was directed towards me. My pulse raced but my body was frozen. Feeling queasy, I started to take a slow breath, when I realised that the spinning world before me was not the effects of nausea. I felt a familiar tug deep within my chest and was pulled back to present with a start. I stared at the painting in front of me and was immediately, violently sick on my gallery floor – perhaps that feeling was partly nausea after all. I must help him! I thought, panicked. Don ’ t I? With a wrenching pain in my stomach, I stared at the expert brushstrokes of Starry Night, complete, evocative, perfect, in front of me, and I felt myself getting lost in that moving night sky, as I had done so many times over the years. Don ’ t I?
[ CW ] Write about a zombie apocalypse in the year given by this random generator .	2057 As I stepped out into the street, I looked around for some form of transportation. This year's Jeep! Perfect. I hopped in, turned the key, and took off. Offroad vehicles have gotten amazing since hover capabilities. I tried getting it off the ground a bit. No gas. Figures. There's never any gas. Not since the war. I exited the Jeep and looked again for transportation. God, why did n't everyone just have a damn car? It was idiotic. I picked up my baseball bat. It was old, from'15 I think, back when the Cubs won the series. Now the Red Sox were looking good for it. I heard the first ones then. Sliders. Big, even for what looked like dock workers. The first one made to charge me. I cracked him hard. Looking at the green of his blood, I made the connection. Trems. They were tremheads. That explains the size. I bolted. My leg was still hurting from where I had the bone replaced. But I'm glad I did, because I was expected to run five meters farther and two kpl faster. I ran until I could n't run anymore. I ran to the old abandoned Chrysler building. Nobody cared about that place anymore. Another war relic. I sat among the rubble and sobbed. I sobbed for my old man. He died in the war. He would've known what to do. I did n't know what to do. Although, I guess I did. I had to get to high ground. We had a few buildings in the air, but I could n't drive up there right now. I had to get a gun. They were outlawed. Had been for years. That was out. I searched my pockets. Three shaving pills and a bottle of hair polish. Well, I knew how this train ride would end. I downed everything and lay back. emergency medical van dispatched vitals offline vitals online heart fai- liver fai- medical van dispa- vitals online I awoke in a cold sweat. I knew it would work. We had all been patched into the medical centers since'43. I was safe. Airborne and safe. A woman entered the room. `` Mr Stip? Are you awake?'' I smiled at her. She was the first friendly face I had seen since the outbreak began. `` Yes, I'm awake.'' I rose from the bed, and looked down. The city was burning. I shed a tear, and drew the blinds. They did n't matter anymore. They had made a choice. Their expensive drugs, or their humanity. I had made mine too.
[ WP ] Before meeting the president , you 're given a pair of gloves . Entering the Oval Office alone , the president waits for you behind his desk . `` Put up your dukes , Bitch-boy . ''	In recent news the first meeting with the president of Russia and the president of America is happening NOW! `` What are these for-Oh...'' The Russian President said with slow realization.He waltzed into the Office and was met with an empty room. `` Is this some sort of trick?!'' Putin said angrily.Then out of nowhere a fist went flying at Vladimir.Quickly Putin dodged out of the way and gained distance from the American President. `` You're in my house and you are going to play by my rules.'' The U.S president screamed.They circled each other for a while, each shouting their trash talk and political banter while beating each other up.It was a pretty even fight, but fortunately/unfortunately Putin jump kicked Obama into his desk. `` Aha, I win.Wait, what do I win?'' Obama looked up from the ground,'' It's 2 out of 3, and now we play basketball.'' Edit: Grammar Errors
[ WP ] Four of the best criminals in the world must team up to defeat a seemingly unstoppable enemy .	“ Prepare for this, gentlemen! ” Lady Shade murmurs to the others in the midnight-black helicopter. They all have headsets on for long distance communication, but for now they were on radio silence. The four of them are speeding faster than a Lamborghini across the tops of buildings in the night sky. Lady ’ s high heeled foot is suspended in a rope loop. She triggered the release and began descending out of the helicopter as it brought the crew fast towards the huge Gugenheim glass office tower: their target. As she was lowered below and hanging slightly behind the vehicle she brought a grenade launcher to bear, out from her black trench coat. “ Unload! ” Demolisher, on the chain gun in the helicopter, began shooting all his ammo into the glass of the building. His huge muscles clenched on his unclothed arms, his military giant vest bristling with weapons and explosives. He grinned behind the flashing muzzle of the deadly gun. Lady Shade ’ s grenade launcher added percussive explosions to the damage. “ I see the opening, I ’ m bringing her down, get ready! ” The pilot, the third member, who was known as Smitty, indicated to Lady Shade. He dipped the chopper and brought it closer to the building. Lady Shade ditched her grenade launcher to the street below. With the helicopters sudden stop, just before its blades clipped the framing of the shattered windows, Lady Shade jumped off the rope ladder and rolled adroitly into the buildings ruined opening. She disappeared, melding into the darkness. Glass fell incessantly from the exterior of the building. The Southern front of the building had taken the shots and it was a mess, the large jagged section that had been Demolisher and Lady Shade ’ s target opened into a pitch black exterior. The helicopter backed up gently and remained stationary. Cops and black suited men with shades, even this late at night, began forming up in the streets below. “ Alright fools, MOVE! ” Demolisher said to no one in particular. Demo pivoted out of the open side of the helicopter and grabbed the rope ladder. He fast roped, his gloved hands burning, but leaving the flesh beneath fine. The rope ladder swung haphazardly and he jumped and just barely grasped the edge of the window that Lady Shade had somersaulted over. He grimly dragged himself up, muscles bulging, as the first bullets from the cops and suited men started to blip around the helicopter. Strapped to his back he grabbed his huge automatic assault rifle and moved into the darkness. “ We ’ re getting flak here! ” Smitty shouted to the last of the band. “ I will prevent any harm to come to you. I will cull the herd. ” The man known as Raccoon poked his visor out from the opposite side of the helicopter, away from the building. His visor ’ s eyes glowed electric blue as he tossed customized gas canisters into the street. Grey heavy gas erupted around the buildings, streets, the entire area. He jumped out and fell 20 stories, there was a short pause to collect himself. His three pointed landing had broken concrete and pushed the obfuscating smoke away from him for a moment. The regular cops staggered back astounded, but the black suited men pointed and leveled handguns, shooting at him. The Raccoon stood and unsheathed his weapon. Bullets rattled off his cybernetic body and armour. Raccoon dashed through the grey mist, it dragged and disperse in his after image. His straight edge sword laying waste to the lined up black suited men. He elbowed or choked out the cops who were already breaking ranks and fleeing the smoke and swordsman. Inside Gugenheim tower Demolisher was jogging in darkness, not quite sure where he was going, when he caught up to Lady Shade. She was in the process of pulling a dagger out of one of two suited men that had been guarding the elevator. Low lights lit the area. “ Nice work, baby. ” Demolisher commented. She glanced with an arched brow, her nose and mouth covered by a black silk mask, “ I hope you are ready for what is coming, Demo Man. ” Lady Shade flicked blood off her dagger and the weapon slide back up into her trench coat. There was not a speck of red on her, but the ground ’ s plush carpet was pooling blood steadily. “ Don ’ t call me that. Lady. ” And he followed her into the elegant wooden paneled elevator. They entered the elevator and Lady Shade entered a pattern of numbers that should take them to the 37-47-27-67 floors. The elevator began to descend however. Lady Night Shade produced two black grenades. She pulled two pins and handed one grenade to Demolisher. “ Whoa! Wait, what? ” They were still moving down. The grenade seemed like a very bad idea to Demolisher at this moment as they were stuck in close quarters in an elevator. He almost began tossing the ‘ nade from hand to hand, but instead just held it steady. The elevator gently came to a stop, there was no other indication they had reached the destination. The doors opened slowly, and immediately Lady Shade tossed her grenade. Demolisher angry at her coldness through the whole endevaour, threw his and with his considerable strength it flew into the room. Two explosions ring their ears. Before the dust settles, Lady Shade darts in. A dozen black suited men who had been stationed outside the elevator crumpled are into a dead mass. “ Shit. ” Demolisher moves to a pillar to the left of Lady. The room is as vaguely lit as the elevator was. There is a throne and pews before the throne, giant braziers and burning in beside the one seat on which sits the villain. Gugenheim stirs, his head resting on his knuckles, a bored expression on his blank face. “ Die, Fool! ” Demolisher pops out from behind the pillar and unloads his heavy machine gun into Gugenheim. Lady Shade ’ s shocked expression, played out on her widened eyes. Demolisher drops to his knees, his body riddled with the bullets meant for Gugenheim, his arms have visible blood wells and his life is pouring out. His own shots have hit him, impossibly. “ Damn. What the fuck? ” he falls over, face smacking into the ground. Lady Shade skirts forward, into the centre of the walkway through the pews. Gugenheim ’ s head lifts and he gazes down at her. Lady Shade murmurs into the headset, “ Demolisher is dead, don ’ t remain longer than you have to. ” She tossed the headset away, not wanting any other messages from her crew to distract her in this confrontation. She had promised them that she had a way to kill him. “ My dear, ” Gugenheim ’ s accented voice rang out, “ did that… Fool… not know what I was capable of? ” He smiled at her. “ I suppose not. Our strategizing was limited. ” Lady Shade was talking as she edged closer to the foot of the steps up to the throne. She did not look down at Demolisher ’ s bent over form.
[ WP ] In this world , if humans get bitten 100 times by a given animal , they gain some of the animal 's superhuman traits . Mosquito , cat , and spider powers are common , but the animal you got your traits from is definitely unusual .	When planning this room the designer surely had more than one colour in mind, Jim mused. But time or perhaps the general ambience had ensured that it now only appeared to consist of various hues of grey. The many whispered conversations and hushed voices sounded familiar to the low rumble of an approaching storm; the occasional rattle of a telephone seemed to pierce the noise like thunder. Jim noted that the rectangular room had an odd symmetry. Two rows of desks stretched out before him, each running until they met the wall on the opposite side of where he sat. The walls on all sides were of frosted glass, which produced a strange effect that anyone inside would be unable to tell where they were in the world; whether they found themselves surrounded by a cloud that sat high above mountains or far below in some murky depth of ocean. Jim knew at least that they were still within the dreary government offices he had walked into hours beforehand, but he thought to himself that the illusion was no doubt a mercy for those that worked here. He sat among rows of chairs that were arranged to face the rest of the room. When looking at the people around him he saw many had odd feature. One man had long protruding red ears that came to two points above his head. Another had a great fluffy yellow and black tail across his lap that perhaps would have been more suitable if it belonged to some giant cat. In the corner stood a woman with four legs, each muscled and hairy. Jim glanced at the man who sat to his left. Though he had a look that was of both mild irritation and a disgust for the people around him, Jim found that he noticed nothing else out of the ordinary. When he turned to the girl to his right, Jim was again surprised to discover no irregularities concerning her either, except perhaps that she was sweating profusely and her eyes continued to dart about the lights that hung overhead. As Jim continued to watch her she slowly rose from her seat and began to walk back and forth along the row of seats. This caught the attention of others who too began to gaze at her. The woman stopped suddenly and appeared to begin to squat somewhat. She cocked her head backwards, so that her face ran parallel to the ceiling, and thereafter remained motionless. Some several seconds passed but just as a man got up to be of help her mouth shot open. Suddenly, a huge tongue cracked forth like a giant writhing serpent. It latched to the roof before recoiling back into her mouth as quickly as it had come. The woman appeared to regain her senses thereafter. She stood normally but began to look quickly from person to person. Her face was one of confusion and tears began to tumble down her cheeks. Without warning, a door that Jim had not previously noticed opened from the wall. From there entered two tall men dressed in navy uniforms with bright green sashes. They each took positions to either side of the woman before hoisting her into the air with ease. She began to wail and appeared to struggle but was quickly carried out. The door shut itself, closing off the sound of the woman and returning the room to as it was. From then everything appeared to run more smoothly. People were called to the desks and people who entered filled their seats, giving the impressions that nothing seemingly changed. A name was called out from the desks and the man to Jim's left stood. He was taller than Jim had imagined; with a straight back and a head that he held high. The man gracefully strode in the direction that his name was called. It was still difficult to imagine for what reason he found himself here but when Jim looked to where he had sat there lay a great and glorious egg. Purple, with streaks of white that wrapped themselves around it's shell like wisps of vapour, it had countless specks of several colours. To Jim the egg appeared as though it where a hole in space; a window that looked out into a beautiful nebulae. He dared not stare to long in case he fell in and were to find himself adrift in some unknown galaxy. Not long after Jim too was called to a desk. When he made his way there he found a large woman sitting opposite; her face stricken with boredom. Thin lips stretched across it and a necklace of beads hung from her jowls. Her grey hair was tied up above her head and her eyes regarded Jim coolly behind thick framed glasses. `` Name and date of birth?'' she barked. `` James Haywood,'' replied Jim. `` 19th of the 6th, 1990.'' `` Mutation?'' she demanded. Jim sat nervoulsy, unsure how to answer. They stared at each other for a moment before he drew in a deep breath and swallowed hard. Jim reached up to his neck and pulled back the collar of his shirt; revealing rows of gills that ran down his throat and sat below a thick layer of mucus. The woman appeared nonplussed at the revelation. `` Mode of transmission?'' `` Emm, well,'' Jim stammered. `` Six months ago I began working in Belshaw Aquarium and..'' `` Hmph,'' cut in the woman. It was a guttural noise that seemed to grumble forth from deep within her throat. She began stamping papers that lay on the desk before spinning them to face Jim. `` Sign here, here, here, here and here,2 she demanded whilst tracing her round finger across the pages. Jim did as he was told and when he had finished she pulled the pages away from him, slipped them into a brown envelope and threw them onto a pile to her left. `` You have agreed that your acquirement of such mutations was under lawful accidental means and that you did not engage with any illegal pet shop rings or underground bite parties. You have consented to full investigation of your activities to ensure that this is in fact the case and agreed to stay within the country until such investigations are complete. You are now free to leave. See you again in six months.'' Relieved, Jim got up from his chair and made for the exit.'That's the last time I go swimming in the tank after work' he thought to himself as he walked out the door.
[ WP ] `` I ... I forget . I forget a lot of things , you know . Names , dates , where I hid the King of Keys ... ''	Oh. Hello ragtag group of adventurers. Are you the ones that the Guild sent to help me? Yes, I'm Marvin the Elderly, how do you do? Erm... request? I ca n't quite recall putting in a request. Oh, fiddlesticks, I'm so sorry to trouble you to go so far out of your way. Perhaps I could offer you lovely folks a spot of tea? Please, come on in. Goodness! What a tumble, Mr. Swordsman, are you alright? I'm sorry, there was a step there you were supposed to mind. Oh, and do n't mind Feathers there, he's noisy but wo n't bite much. Or... oh dear, I guess his biting days are well over. And his talking days for that matter. Erm... why am I in my kitchen? And... Oh dear. I really should stop leaving the front door unlocked. As nice as you people seem to be, you really should n't be poking around in someone's house uninvited. You're here to help? Help with what? I've got all my affairs in order, thank you very much. Now please... actually, now that you mention it, perhaps you've you seen my thingamajig? What is a thingamajig? It's... I... I forget. I forget a lot of things, you know. Names, dates where I hid the King of Keys. The King of Keys? Yes, I know him. Lovely old chap! Always up for new things! Used to go adventuring through all the kingdom together back in the day. Even managed to win back the Jewel of Valmoria together we did. You're looking for him? To save the Jewel again? Well, why did n't you say so! Here, I've got a big book of portal spells, maybe we can find... find... were you wanting me to find someone for you? The King of where? I'm afraid there is no such kingdom. What a bizarre place name,'keys'. If I were to teleport you to'keys', you might just end up on someone's keyring instead. Or at a locksmith's place. I used to know a locksmith, a very good one. Then bandits burned down his place and ruined his business. So he turned thief. That's when I met him. What a rotten scoundrel I was back then, looking to steal the Jewel of Valmoria. Hah! I had some nerve, just a young spellcaster looking to take on the most powerful protection spells Gruul had to offer. One wrong move, and my mind could get fried! But, brash young thing I was, the risk of insanity did n't outweigh the thrill of a challenge. And he wanted to help me take it on. And boy, he could back up that claim. I never seen anyone open locks and traps like him. That's why they called him the King of Keys. The King of Keys? Yes, I know him. Lovely old chap! Always up for new things! Used to go adventuring through all the kingdom together back in the day. Even managed to win back the Jewel of Valmoria together we did. You're looking for him? To save the Jewel again? Well, why did n't you say so! Erm... I ca n't remember where I hid him though so let me just go get... ... get... let me just go get a... thingamajig? A spot of tea? Yes, why do n't I fetch you lovely folks a spot of tea? Erm... Oh. Hello ragtag group of adventurers. Are you the ones that the Guild sent to help me? ********* Edits: Tweaked the Feathers bit about biting, and hinted at what happened to Marvin.
[ WP ] Use a comment by the nonsensical markov chain bot `` writingprompts_SS '' ( link in post ) as an opening quote from a main character . Construct a narrative in which it makes perfect sense .	https: //www.reddit.com/r/SubredditSimulator/comments/3j3k0w/i_was_surfing_the_wikipedia_when_i_look_up_and/culxidp Defeated, she put her hand on the ticker tape, stopping it for a long time, I loved an artist. She looked out over the street below, bustling with life. The ticker tape strewn from windows above fluttered down like snow in the cold January air. Soldiers marched gleefully down the boulevard, Sherman tanks grumbling over the pavement not far behind. Her eyes glistened as tears began to form. Her heart was conflicted. These men had loved him, even as a soldier. She shook herself. He was never a soldier. A boy, at the most, never a soldier. She could hardly contain herself. Every part of her wanted to cry out in pain and loneliness. Still the men marched and cheered as they streamed down Broadway like a river of men and metal, each proclaiming life, and joy at having retained it. She hated them. She hated herself for hating them. They did not kill her son, and yet still she felt nothing but contempt for the military that had ripped her boy from his mother's embrace and the art he had lived for, bled for, before being made to bleed for his kin and country. She closed her eyes and stood at the window for a moment, the sounds of the street below washing over her. He would n't have wanted this. He would never have held onto hate, no matter how justified he would feel doing it. She felt the cold sting of her tears on her cheeks. She threw the ticker tape.
[ WP ] Your fridge becomes possessed by a demon . You keep mistaking the unholy signs for a faulty fridge , moldy food etc	Natalie made a small disgusted sound as she slammed closed the door of the fridge and turned to face her date. `` I'm so sorry,'' she moved so she was blocking the refrigerator door. `` I thought we had milk but turns out we do n't!'' `` Oh it's no problem,'' Daniel shrugged. He peered past Natalie as though still trying to look inside the fridge. Natalie blushed. `` It's my roommate. She... god, I love her but she's such a mess. Like, she has some problems with her head or something. Super sweet girl but... I might be looking to move out soon.'' `` Problems?'' `` Like okay. I was n't going to show you this, but I will.'' Natalie stepped away, pulling open the door of the fridge as she did so. `` Like, she does this all the time. Spells out messages with ketchup and takes the food out so it goes bad and then puts it back in. That's why we do n't have any milk. I tried to take it out but it was gross. That and like, the fridge is kind of bad and does n't regulate very well. Sometimes starts banging like someone is inside of there. Ugh. This whole apartment is kind of a dump, I know, but I promise my room is nice.'' Daniel gave her a small, wavering smile. `` It's okay. You know, maybe I should just go home.'' `` Oh please do n't,'' Natalie made a pouting face. `` It wo n't be nearly as fun if you go home. Let's just watch a movie. I can order pizza or we can run to the store and buy soda or milk if you want. It will be fun. I promise. Please do n't judge me because of the state of my fridge.'' The fridge started to rumble and shake at that moment, seeming to tip from side to side violently. Daniel stared at it. `` Is that... normal?'' `` Yeah. Just an old faulty fridge. What can I say? I keep asking the landlord for a new one and he says this one was put in two years ago. But I mean, look at this fridge. It's like a billion. Whatever.'' Daniel was reluctant to prolong the date but felt little choice as he was dragged to Natalie's room. She pushed him inside, pressing her body against his and bringing her lips up to his as she began to kiss him, pushing him back to her bed and then tipping onto it with him. He made a motion to stop her and then ended the kiss as gently as he could. `` I'm just going to get some water real quick, ok? Just from the tap. I'll be right back.'' Natalie pouted, screwing her mouth to one side, but did not stop him from leaving. He slipped out from under her and tugged down on his shirt. She heard the sound of him walking into the kitchen and opening drawers looking for a glass as she spread out on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Then there was the noise of the fridge opening and closing, quick footsteps and the sound of the apartment's front door. `` What the fuck?'' Natalie asked herself as she rolled off of bed and walked out of her room. There was no sign of Daniel, and when she tugged open the fridge she knew exactly why. DIE, DANIEL, DIE had been written in ketchup in her roommate's usual spot for messages. `` God dammit Ellen,'' she shook her head as she closed the door of the fridge. The fridge rattled and shook and moaned as she walked away.
[ WP ] Lonely and bored , you developed a secret language , that you consistently use to talk to yourself . One day , when you mutter something under your breath , a stranger replies with ease .	Good god was she gorgeous. She was looking at me and she was smiling. `` Eckey bluram,'' I muttered to myself. Heart of mine, beats. She did n't hear me, or at the very least she did n't really register it. I looked away and blushed. My bus stop was coming soon. I glanced up again at her. She glanced back and smiled. I looked away and blushed again. The bus came to a stop and I got off, not making eye contact with anyone. I began to regret not saying something to her. `` Noligentiy. Noligentiy.'' Stupid. Stupid. I muttered. I heard a woman's voice respond. `` Ana se aligem,'' she said. I stopped in my tracks and turned around. It was the same girl. `` Kay eechat?'' What said you? `` Eechay,'Ana se aligem'.'' I said,'are you sure?' she said. I did n't know what to think. I looked at her closely. I did n't recognize her at all. She was a total stranger. `` Yak... key ligenem...'' I stopped. `` But, how do you know my language?'' I asked.

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