Split (3)

train · 273k rows

prompt stringlengths 5 331	story stringlengths 404 40.3k
[ WP ] The world do n't owe you shit , kid .	I was waiting near the entrance to the Arena when I met him. The fight tonight was going to be The Boy Vs. The World, and it was particularly special since they had never met before. The huge poster hung down from the side of the Arena, both wrestlers with grins and one arm pumping up. The excitement was electric. My vote was for the Boy, and man was I pumped. Then it got quiet. The World and The Boy had just arrived, and were walking down the red carpet. Unfortunately, The Boy was on the other side, and I stretched as far as I could when they walked by. But then, disaster struck. The World grabbed my ticket and started to sign it. `` No, that's for The Boy to sign!'' The World looked up and laughed. `` Oh yeah?'' He said, and ripped my ticket in half. Then he started to walk away. `` Asshole, that was my only ticket! You've got to buy me a new one!'' The World turned around and shot finger guns at me. `` The World do n't owe you shit, kid.''
[ WP ] Awoken by a crash in the kitchen , you jump up from bed and follow the noise outside . An unknown man is wearing your clothing and is looking straight at you .	Startled I wake up, I turn and see her still laying in bed, must not have been her. There it is again, that noise. I uneasily arise from my slumber not knowing what to do first. I look around still confused by what is happening in the distance. I'm naked.. I do n't remember taking off my clothes, but I am standing here bare assed in the middle of the room. I slowly hear the door open downstairs, and I hurriedly make my way after whatever just left. As I make my way down I grab a towel that is laying on a chair by the bedroom door, and wrap myself up. Still blurry eyed from my deep slumber I try to move slow but determined, not too make to much noise, not knowing what I might find. As I make it to the first floor I see a man in a slight silhouette standing outside the door, it's hard to make out any features. I look around for something to defend myself, but then it hits me, something about him looks familiar, do I know him? Have we met? I decide to rush the door, and confront him. I fling open the door and just as I am about to tackle him, almost with an unseen sense, he side steps me. Expecting a collision, I stumble and fall face first into the lawn. I quickly turn on my back awaiting the retaliation from the man. As I settle on my back, the man casually steps above me peering down at me. That is when I notice it, it was n't him that looked familiar, it was my clothes. He appears to be wearing the clothes I slept in. Just as I start to open my mouth he peers straight into my eyes and says `` You want to come into my house and act like me with my wife, then I figured it is only fair to do the same with your wife.'' and slowly walked away. -- Be gentle, this is my first ever writing prompt. I always wanted to try but never really had the courage to try.. I am definately open to the critics though.. Thanks
[ WP ] You 're the first explorer of the world 's deepest cave . When you turn on your flashlight , you see dinosaur bones ... and a concrete sidewalk .	I stepped down the path, glancing around me and taking notice of the bones strewn around me. `` Aaron, I think you might want to see this.'' I called behind me. Aaron started walking up behind me and glanced down. The path, sure enough, was solid concrete. `` This is impossible, nobody's ever been down here!'' Aaron exclaimed. I nodded and started walking down the path, listening to the grazing of my boots against the ground. Aaron followed behind me, his eyes darting around. The tunnel grew wider but the path stayed the same. Behind a bend in the cave I saw an orange glow, flickering in the darkness. Aaron whispered “ You aren ’ t going there, right Clara? ” I continued forward, pickaxe in hand. Aaron grabbed onto my shirt but I shrugged him off. I pressed myself against the wall, silently creeping towards the edge. I leaned past the wall to get a look at what was making the light. It was a street light, just like the ones back in New York City. I stared at it until Aaron crept up behind me and said “ What is it? ” I was so surprised I almost hit him with my pickaxe. We stepped out of the darkness, and continued along the trail. The street light flickered as we walked by, and Aaron pointed out another light in the distance. I started walking faster, I needed to get to the end of this mystery. I heard water rushing around me, and slowed down to let Aaron catch up. Aaron yanked my collar and yelled “ Watch where you ’ re going Clara! ” I looked down and saw the cliff I was standing on, and saw water pouring down into the abyss from below me. I stumbled back and Aaron pulled me back. The path ended at the cliff. There was something down there, and I had to get to the end. I opened my pack and tied some rope to a stalagmite nearby. Aaron decided he was going to stay at the top to make sure the rope was sturdy, and I clipped myself in. Slowly I let more rope down, and went down. After I went thirty feet, I heard a scream from above me, and looked up to see Aaron ’ s limp body falling down next to me. I shrieked and heard shuffling from above. There were faces leaning over the cliff, staring at me. They had skulls covering their faces and paint covering their body. They disappeared and I felt my rope shaking, and it came apart. I fell, scraping myself against the cold rocks as I went. A pool of water appeared out of the dark and I fell in. I swam up to the surface, and saw Aaron ’ s dead body floating next to me. I turned him over and saw cuts scoring his chest and face. With another scream I swam away and hit the wall. I glanced around and found the path leading off to another cave. Now I ’ m following the path again, and I can hear them coming for me, tribal shouts in the darkness behind me. I have to follow the path, It ’ s the only thing I have left. This is my first response to a prompt and I ’ m always looking for advice, so please give some feedback, thanks!
[ WP ] A old veteran of the first intergalactic war in human history tells his story .	`` Grampa, oh, grampa, how many bugs did you kill in the war?'' `` Alright, kid, since you keep asking, I'm going to tell it, and tell it for good. I'm only going to tell it once, alright, exactly once, just because all you ankle-biters wo n't stop about it. You really want to hear so bad it like you've got ants in your pants? Listen up, carefully.'' `` Pops, do n't scare the children, please.'' `` You know he wo n't, Pumpkin. He's always been great with the kids.'' `` Tell us everything, grampa! We wo n't be scared, promise! Alice too! We'll be good!'' Grampa cleared his throat emphatically, louder and longer than was strictly necessary. `` Ha-rrmggggh!'' Now all eyes were on him, from oldest Michael to little Alice and the baby in Pumpkin's lap. Honey Bunny and Pumpkin leaned into each other, also watching Grampa for the moment, though Honey Bunny was thinking about clearing up the dishes. `` So you all want to hear it so bad about the blood and guts, eh? You want to hear about the roar of battle and the thunder of the guns? Well that's the wrong question, kid.'' `` What's the right question? Will you tell? How was firing a gun?'' `` Bloody awful. The first standard-issue flashlights ran super hot in your hands, and you had to be super careful not to accidentally touch the radiator fins. I got this scar here'' - he held up his calf - `` from doing that once, just once. Learned my lesson real quick then. But anyway, back to the point: That's still the wrong question.'' `` Were the bugs scary? Were they big and slobbery? Did you see one up close? You saw them up close, right? I caught a bug today. It was big and green and pretty, and I was n't scared at all! Did the bugs look like that bug?'' `` Ali, I do n't know what kind of bug you found today, but I'm pretty sure it was n't as big. But were they scary? Well, that's getting closer to the real question. What d'ye think I'll say? That they scared the socks off me? What d'ye think?'' `` I heard they were super tall, and big, and fast, and scaly and that there were hundreds of them at a time!'' `` Ah, not quite, Mike. They actually were n't that bad. See, when we first got there, it was after blasting the bejeezus out of their fortifications. Reduced it to smoking craters. And when we saw them close and in person, there was nothing there. We had been blasting at nothing at all.'' `` So it was all blown up?'' `` No, they just were n't there. There'd never even been anything but decoys and illusions. They got us good! There was nothing at all. But they'd left behind messages, repeated over and over again in a perfect Earth accent, just saying it was all a mistake, and they wanted no fight.'' `` Lucas told me his gramma killed five of them, all single-handedly!'' `` Michael, single-handed does n't mean she did it with only one hand, it means she did it herself. I do n't think Lucas's grandmother was holding one arm behind her back like that. And do n't interrupt.'' Pumpkin had heard all the stories long ago from Grampa, his pops. He was antsy to help Honey Bunny, but the baby was scowling and threatening to cry. He was stuck dandling her in his lap for now. Grampa chuckled. `` Almost certainly not. Those are tall tales. But I doubt any man who was there would ever spin a yarn like that. Because the second time we advanced on them, our attack was doubly fierce, and command was sure we'd struck them a blow they'd be feeling the next day. And yet that time again, when we landed in force, we found no bugs. We found home. We saw perfect recreations of all the great cities and wonders of the worlds, scattered in ruins. We saw the glittering towers of Mars, twisted and burning. We saw the floating domes of Venus, torn open and fallen. We saw the lush fields of Luna, cratered and blackened. I thought it might have been a threat, but the message they left this time was stop. Please stop. Look at the pain you bring. Stop. This hurts. Please stop.'' Even the baby was quiet now. `` The third time, we were sure we had our hands around their neck. But our heart was n't really in it anymore. And we never fired, because this time the message came first. Oh, how I wish I could repeat it to you! But I ca n't, I just ca n't, and I do n't think any human could repeat it. It was indescribable. It was like an old friend whose words go past your ears and straight to your heart. It was not something heard or seen, maybe like something smelled or tasted, but something that was simply felt through all your soul. Oh, if only I could recall the glory! It was then that we knew it was all over. We went home, and that was it for the war.'' `` Grampa, did they... did they do something to you? Do something to your head?'' `` Yes, Ali, they did. But it was all true, what they'd shown us. The most beautiful things, of love and pain and horror and joy. To all of us, Ali. They did something to us, alright. It changed us all.'' Alice was unnerved. `` Are... are you the same person? Are you still grampa?'' `` No, I'm no the same person I was then. I'm not. I was young then, and foolish, and we all are, foolish little goblins. Even command, even our wisest men and leaders, fools we all are. You too. You do n't know anything, either. You're just children still, you know. See, the right question was never how many of them I killed, or how battle was like for us, or how scary they were. I do n't think there is a right question, but there are better questions. We should be asking questions more like this instead:'How scared are they?''How was battle like for them?''How many of them did I not kill?' Questions like that, if we'd asked them from the beginning, would have saved us all the trouble. We were fools then, and still are.'' **** `` Honey Bunny, I told you he'd scare the kids!''
[ WP ] A well-groomed man straightens his tie , kisses his wife goodbye , puts on a long overcoat , steps outside , closes the door behind him , walks out into the middle of the road , and lies down .	Well, I guess this is it. ``.. Honey? What are you doing?'' My wife watched from the steps of our home. It was nothing special. Brown hair, brown eyes, a little chubby.. Nothing special. She just watched. What a bitch. She had desired to watch my suicice attempt. After all we've been through.. How could she? I laid there on my back, staring up at the sky. It was a pretty nice day. Clear, blue skies, not a cloud above. The sun was bright and high. I think it was around noon-time. I'm not really sure why I put on this overcoat. ``.. Are you okay, dear?'' she chirped, `` Are you going to work?'' Am I going to work? Who does she think she is.. I turned my head and could see a car in the distance. This is it. After all of the pain, and sufferin- *HONK* Really? *HONK HONK, HONK, HONNNNK* Ugh, fine. I got up, dusted off my coat, and got in my car. I guess I can try again, tomorrow..
[ WP ] `` Sire ! Urgent message from the north ! ''	The messenger's raggedy breath echoed in the war room. As his generals gathered round, the king passed the exhausted man a glass of water, which was gulped down. `` Breathe, man, breathe.'' The king patted the messenger on the shoulder. The man nodded before, eyes widening, he realised who was addressing him. All but collapsing he fell to one knee, head bowed. The king sighed. No matter how hard he tried, the people under his command treated him with a respect bordering on reverence. It was almost as if they thought he was actual royalty. `` Stand up, man. You'll breathe easier.'' `` Sire...'' the messenger wheezed as he clambered from the floor. `` Sire, an urgent message from the North. Earl Hart is on the move. He...'' `` How many?'' General Tullus interrupted, as the others began twittering like a disturbed flock of crows. The messenger's head turned to face him. `` Six, my lord. And a dozen Lords with him.'' The king watched as the others fell silent and Tullus, Tullus who feared no man, paled from the news. He turned back to the messenger. `` Thank you. Go and rest now.'' The messenger stumbled to the door before collapsing on the handle now that his task had been completed. One of the soldiers on guard caught him and carried him out. `` Six dragons...'' whispered Tullus. The king nodded grimly. `` Well, lads...'' he turned to the Generals, `` it's not the best news. Still, could be worse.'' `` Worse? How could it be worse?'' Demanded Tullus. The king cracked a smile. `` Well, Hart could have seven dragons.'' A couple of forced chuckles came out, before they fell silent. The king could feel their eyes on him. `` He might have the firepower, but we've still got a few tricks up our sleeves. Mobilise the armies. We march North.'' They bowed and all but ran to the door, orders spewing from their lips, almost as if they were eager for this war. The king shook his head, before grabbing his sword and buckling it on. He knew the Lords were uneasy with his `` borrowing'' of the crown and throne, but to march against him? And to be able to mobilise the dragons? He wondered once more if what he did was right. Perhaps it was n't. But necessary? Certainly. Filled with the resolve that had driven him here, he lowered his helmet, threw a cloak over his hellfire-blackened armour and marched to the door. The King of the Damned was going to War once more.
[ WP ] A maximum security prisoner escapes prison . Tell me how they did it .	I sit there hours a day 23, hours to be exact. In fact, most of that time I was wondering how to skillfully execute it. Every time the opened the slit to slide in my food, they would reveal just enough for me to see how high up I was and how hard it would be to get out. Seeing as how the lock only works from the outside. It would require an insider I thought at first. Laying there on my bed I think to myself. `` Well, If I break through the walls or the cement, I could maybe get free. But lets be real, they probably have this all reenforced now.'' Then It hits me, I spend the next 2 months sitting there making my plan go into action. I collect any type of container or absorbant, and keep the plastic pieces to the meals. Now its time to spring my plan, I try to talk to the cell members next to me, neither one of them talk. But the guy across the room one floor up is trying to listen to me. I ca n't risk telling any of the guards my plan, So I play a game to charades. After a few hours, he gets the message. I write my suicide letter, within an hour and a half. Three guards walk into the room, of course none of them highly armed, just two tazers and a needle to subdue me. But today i came prepared. I let me natural matter marinate in the containers and when that door swung open, the fabrics I had been tearing off my sheets comes loose stabbing two of the guards in the neck. At first they do n't feel anything and I get worried. But a few seconds later after the guy with the needle tries to stab me and i kick it away from him. Those two fall and start coughing up blood. I take both of their tazers. I taze the guy with the needle and grab the needle myself. Now my next plan of action is to get over to the next cell mates doors. I manage to open his door and tell him to hold back to guards so i can get us more help. After me getting about 10-20 people. I run up and open the other guys lock. He has his sheets already tied together. We find themain key 10 floors down. After using the fabrics to go down. Of course guards run over to try to grab us. But I know better. The second one grabbed onto us we let go of the fabric and would start falling. We eventually get to the bottom as the rest of the group is making its way down town. I manage to stab the big guard with the assault rifle with the needle, by throwing it from higher up before he took aim at us, it was a few seconds before he fell. My buddy manages to get the weapon. And starts shooting the guards. I know the play time is over now, and start hiding again. But i look for an ambulance. Luckily today was the day that the ambulance came because of me. I climb in and hide inside of it with the needle filled with sedatives. The two doors open up I kick one guy in the face and stab the other, i immediately stab the second guy following. They both resist me for a second but slowly they fall and i drag them into the ambulance. I sit there and wait with both of them tied up. Until the first ambulance gets here. I drive off with those two in the back. As my `` passengers''. Again I told them not to see if it were possible for me to get out. The system is all types of flawed. They did n't believe me. And now i am on my way to greet the president and tell the world I released over 200 killers and others. I'll track em all down of course, but you just do not question me.
[ WP ] This story starts as the blade pierces your heart . You look down , seeing the blade in your chest , and chuckle .	The chuckle deepens into a full belly laugh as the attackers face turns from confusion to fear. `` Let me know when you realize you've made a mistake'' the man says, as he pushes his attacker off his feet casually. Then pulls the blade from his chest. With almost contempt, he tosses the blade back to the attacker on the ground. `` Get up, we're not done here'' he says, voice going gravely. The attacker, an intimidating man in his own right, scrambles feebly to his feet. Shock on his face, mixed with fear. `` H..how.. is this possible, you should be dead''. `` Should be eh'' malevolence dripping from the words this time. `` Ya, maybe I should be. But I ai n't. You on the other hand.....''. As the words trail off, he starts walking toward his attacker. Average height, build, looks, no one would normally look twice at him. However, now, his slow confident move toward his much larger attacker, and the look in his eye would have just about anyone on the run. Looking for an escape path, the former attacker mentally kicks himself for picking such a perfect spot to dispatch someone. `` I was paid, it was nothing personal bro'' he squeaks out. `` Heard that one before'' the man with a hole in his chest says. Nearly clearing the distance between the two. `` You better finish the job before I finish you''. Switching the grip on his blade to take a defensive stance, he says `` You could just let me go, I promise you'll never see me again''. `` That's how this is going to play out no matter what''. The distance between the two has been cleared. The former attacker's back is against a wall, no way out without first going through a man that laughs off a chest wound through the heart. Knowing he has no other option, he tries again. The fight, if it could be called that, was short, brutal and ugly. The mangled corpse of a formerly intimidating man broken and bleeding on the ground. An average looking man walking away, chuckling again `` Ya, I should be dead all right''. A cold sorrow echos in his words.
[ WP ] Heaven and Hell are only so prevalent because they paid for Ad time . Tell me about one of the more obscure after-death locations .	And then I woke up. Or rather, that was the best description for it. It was sort of like waking up from a dream, as I was instantly aware that the events that had preceded had no baring on me any more, and the finer details quickly faded from my memory. I was unsure how old I was, or what day it was, but I very clearly remembered that I was saving up to quit my job and start a bakery. My entire life was a blurred memory. A dream. A film I had only half watched while eating ribs. I was a blank slate. Well, an only slightly smudged slate. Where was I now though? It was all... different. The minor differences struck me immediately. I was n't wearing my glasses, yet I was fully aware of my surroundings. I was naked, but I did n't have any shame, I was n't entirely sure I had genitals. The larger differences such as the lack of dimensional space did n't phase me so much though. `` Number One Billion Three hundred and two Million Seven hundred and sixty five thousand two hundred and two!'' a voice rang out through the void. I became aware of the source as soon as it hit my ears. There was an infinitely long counter nearby, everything was nearby, there was no space. I checked the number of the ticket in my hand. `` Oh, I'm Number One Billion Three hundred and two Million Seven hundred and sixty five thousand two hundred and two!'' I called out. I seemed to only be aware of things when they were directly interacting with me, it was much more efficient than everything running at once on Earth. As the angelic form behind the counter addressed me, I became aware of them as well. `` One Billion Three hundred and two Million Seven hundred and sixty five thousand two hundred and two, nice to meet you. My name is Incomprehensible, and I'll be helping you through the death process today.'' `` Wait, do you mean that your name is `` Incomprehensible'', or that you-'' `` That's what I said, yes. Now, I understand this is your first death, so I'll quickly run you through the routine. We need to select an afterlife for you, you did n't qualify for any of the extreme extra-'' `` Wait, can I ask another question?... so, I died?'' I became aware of a large sign just behind Incomprehensible, slightly shorter than the counter was long. The phrase'I died?' lit up. `` Sorry, that's just for a game we play. It's kind of like bingo. Anyway, yes, you died. You were thirty nine, female, and you died from heart disease so you're just a statistic to the vast majority of your world.'' This seemed like a dickish thing to say, but I found it difficult to muster any kind of emotion about my life in this state. `` So yes, this was your first death. Your soul will retain knowledge of this place, but your mind will not. What happens next is you choose an afterlife. There are several billion different options, so if you just tell me the sort you'd like, I can-'' `` Wait, is it not just Heaven and Hell? We get to choose, I thought it was based on our behaviour, I was a Catholic you see... and why would I die more than once?'' Four phrases lit up on the sign. `` No, there's a lot. And you can die in most of them, when that happens you just come back here. If you want Heaven or Hell I can get you there, those are obviously the most popular options, I've actually heard that Hell is fairly pleasant provided you follow the rules. Shall I put you down for a Salvation?'' I paused, thinking. Heaven seemed the obvious choice, but why was there even a choice then. I guess you ca n't die in Heaven so it's your last stop. So if I wanted to sample... `` What's a popular afterlife I can die in?'' `` Reincarnation is popular. You can even choose who you're born as and what knowledge you retain.'' `` I wo n't retain any knowledge for this, I think... Could I be... the daughter, wait, the son to a powerful and kind leader? And be gifted in... magic? Can I be reborn in a world with magic?'' The angelic being ticked a few boxes on a checklist. `` Yeah, there's openings in magical worlds. Wo n't be a position for a powerful heir for a few decades though, I can do you the son of a rich trade baron now, though.'' I nodded my head. `` Alright then, you will be born in twenty six seconds. I hope you've had a pleasant death experience. We hope you rested in peace.'' A door opened beneath me, a bright light slowly starting to engulf me as the countdown to my birth appeared before my eyes. `` Thank you Incomprehensible! oh, one more thing, I was only number One billion or so? Have only that many people died?'' `` Oh no, we reset the counter every half hour. Have a nice life!'' And then I woke up.
[ WP ] At age 18 , you are able to trade in a percentage of your physical beauty for an equivalent amount of intelligence , or vice versa .	`` Dear Amelia, Tomorrow is your 18th birthday. I've been imagining this moment since the first day I heard your heartbeat on the ultrasound. I'm looking at your picture as I'm writing this letter, you are seven years old, you have your grandfather's pale blue eyes and your grandmother's chin. You look just like me when I was that age. Like every mother in the world, I want to say that you are perfect just the way you are, that I'm sure you have blossomed into a stunning young woman, but we both know it's not exactly true. I'm sorry, my heart, I know this sounds so cruel coming from the only person who was supposed to love you unconditionally, but this is one of the most important reasons for me to send you this message through time. I know that begging you to forgive me for leaving you so soon is pointless. You have already done it years ago, or you will never be able to. I apologize for my clumsy writing, my thoughts are so foggy and scrambled, you wo n't believe it, but I have to look up every other word in a dictionary just to make sure I spell it correctly... they say it's the side effect of all the drugs I had to take, but I think it's another one of the cruel jokes of fate, the last act of revenge of the destiny I had tried to cheat so many times. You know, in a few days it will be your turn to make a decision. I have not been there for you to guide you through your most important years, but this is one advice I still can give you. If you are anything like your grandfather, or worse - like me, you must be pretty dead set on becoming brilliant - more so that you already are. I've seen this in you, the same drive, the same burning insatiable curiosity about the world, how you learned to read and write at three, how you wore your poor uncle down until he taught you to play chess at four, how you used to steal grandma's medical books and hide them under your bed ( I ca n't stop crying when I picture you trying to look up medical terms in My First Dictionary )... Back then we all thought that you were going to accomplish what I had failed to do. I bet that my parents - if they are still alive - have been pushing you towards this decision for years now, to the point you do n't see any other alternatives. I'm sure you have worked hard during your school years. I'm sure you are already receiving acceptance letters to some of the best schools in the country. I'm so very proud of you. But please, for whatever it's worth, take this one advice from one person who had followed your chosen path and found nothing but pain - _choose beauty_. Being smart is not worth it anymore. Not if you are a woman. I swear, I might be weak, slow and impaired right now, but I'm completely lucid. I mean it when I say - big brains are useless, worse than useless, they are a source of great sorrow for a woman that is homely. It is different for men, but unfortunately, even in this day and age it still holds for us women. Be beautiful. Find love. Enjoy upbeat songs and happy movies, love your man, raise children, leave the ailments of the world to someone stronger, someone more cynical and less exposed. Someone who's better equipped to handle the pain. & nbsp; What everybody keeps forgetting is that the transition does not give you strength. Pretty or brilliant, you still remain the same fragile person, with all your fears, doubts, hidden hurts and anxieties. You are not soulless enough to handle being rejected by the world that does n't have a place for people it does n't enjoy to look at. I was like you once. Driven, intelligent, aggressively curious, hard-working to the point of fanaticism. All I ever wanted was to become a doctor, not just any doctor, a world-renowned, brilliant medical researcher that would participate in the development of a groundbreaking treatment for some deadly incurable disease - and I was ready to give up on love, happiness, relationships... even children, I was ready to sacrifice my entire life for my silly noble dream of changing the world. I was never pretty, although I could still pass for `` pleasant, but plain'' - but after the transition it became obvious, - I was now the kind of a young girl that plain ageing women feel safe to introduce to their husbands. At that time I thought nothing of it, honestly, I'd never even thought of learning how to do my hair or use make up. I did n't care what people thought or even noticed them much - I was obsessed with absorbing as much knowledge as possible. My mind was set on becoming the world's ultimate humanitarian, and nothing could distract me from achieving my goal, especially nonsense like living, walking, talking human beings... & nbsp; I sailed through undergrad on a full ride, and graduated 2 years ahead of my peers - I would've done it sooner if it were n't for administrative restrictions. I'm not going to lie, being a 20 year old girl in college, surrounded by stunning young women who had made the _other_ choice... it was harsh. I was n't made of steel, I even had a crush on some guy in my second year... But I chased away the sadness by burying myself in work. By the time I had graduated, my name was mentioned in two scientific papers in a major publication, not counting the times I was credited for contribution. I wo n't bore you with the details, let's just say, it was a pretty much impossible feat for an undergrad at the time. Getting ready to interview with the medical schools, I thought I had it made. I thought I was bulletproof. & nbsp;
[ WP ] You 've been granted god-like powers under the condition that you must do as much evil as you do good .	I did n't look at the supplicant as I prepared the tray of seedlings. Perhaps he would go away. Most do. After some time he found his courage and spoke up, `` Holy Mother, I offer myself in Atonement.''. `` Do you? ``, I asked looking up at last. `` Do you really?''. `` Yes Mother''. He was a tall man. Gaunt with age. Garbed in the robe of a supplicant with head shorn he lacked identifying features. But his hands were calloused and spoke of manual labor. And his skin was tanned by hours in the sun. Grief was etched deeply into the lines of his face. `` Do you know what Atonement entails?''. `` I will Atone for the sins of humanity with my suffering. That you may bless us... my grandson, he has the cancer and'' `` It does n't work that way.'' `` Mother? But he's only 7 years old. His life has barely begun. A life for a life. Please Moth...'' `` And there are more important blessings to dispense. Many children are dying. Some could cure cancer, stop wars, heal nations. Others will not. I'm sorry. But they are more important.'' I reached again for my tools. This one would not Atone. My acolytes were already stepping forward to escort him away. `` And others will cause wars! If death must pay for life why not take them!'' Ah. So he was an arguer. `` Silence.'' A flick of my wrist enforced this commandment. An act neither evil nor good but merely convenient. `` I can not heal a great soul by slaying a damned one. Those accounts do not balance. To save a great soul a great soul must be slain. A great soul would be willing to Atone without getting something in return personally. You do not seek to Atone. You seek to barter. Begone.'' Hope died in his eyes as he turned to go. As he left the acolytes were already ushering in the next supplicant. `` Mother... I have come to Atone''.
[ WP ] You are the world 's oldest tree . And someone is trying to cut you down .	“ Why is it that you have come for me? ” I asked without a sound. My branches swayed as petals danced in the wind. Leaves littered the ground, crunching under the feet of the humans that approached. Their faces contorted with avarice and glee as they looked at the ancient trees, the last of a precious wood that was not yet protected. “ What you have done already, is it not enough? Does the depths of your immorality know no end? ” Some of the humans clambered into giant, yellow machines as others stood on the sidelines in their business suits and vests barking orders. The peacefulness of the woods was broken by the churning, whirring, and grinding beasts that stalked the fields. Behind them was a sea of tree stumps and stripped branches. My family had been thrown to the wayside, stacked on top of one another in large piles. I watched as they advanced towards me. This was the end. There was no means of escape, no way to cry out for help, all I could do was watch. As the spinning blades grew closer, fond memories of days when the climate was n't a harsh and the forest was deep and green came to my mind. I could remember the day that each of the trees were born, the relationships that they had formed with the woodland creatures, the storms that we had weathered together and the calm days when we snoozed in the sunshine. A century or more of history flashed past in mere moments. The lifeblood of my brothers, sisters, cousins and friends clung loosely to the bits of pulpy flesh on the blades. Their sap slapped my face as I shivered. I had witnessed many things, but nothing like the monsters that crawled towards me. A sickening crunch sounded as I was struck by their relentless blows. The machines sunk deeply into my legs as I provided little resistance against the sharpened tools of these humans. I fell into their hands solemnly as the humans cheered. My limbs, leaves, and sap splashed upon the ground as I was reduced to a shell of my former self. When they had stripped me of my pride, they cast me aside and continued marching on. I was not enough for them. I did not show it, but I wept for those that would meet their end by those rapacious horrors. “ Will there be no one to stand for the weak, the defenseless, the speechless? ” I wondered as my consciousness began to fade. “ The day of the green may soon be at its end. ” -314
[ WP ] There is a world where parents can not pass away until their progeny understand their parents ' life lessons . One couple is celebrating their third century anniversary together .	A meal is made up of three things. The taste, the look, and the smell. Most people did n't really plan the smell, just lumping it in with taste, but Margret knew how to make an anniversary meal. The first course of this meal was the rich, savory aroma. The walls of the room melted away, and all there was was the meal. George settled down next to his wife, enjoying the feel of her against him. This was the second course of the meal, these touches, and it set the mood better than any atmosphere music. He pulled her up close to him and sighed. At the end of the table sat John, their son. He was bored. George looked back at his wife, tracing the lines on her cheek with his gaze. There were so many lines, so many memories. He followed each one up and down, drinking in her closeness, the intangible warmth that seemed to radiate off her when he was near. He never needed to say a word around her, she could always pick them right out of his head. So too, apparently, could John, `` Ya ya, you love her. We get it. You do n't need to speak. Great.'' His words were acidic, a poison to the serenity of the room. `` You have n't said a damn word since I've been born. How the hell am I supposed to learn your life lessons?'' George glanced over, shrugged, and returned to his Margret. She was so delicate, and so strong. Sitting next to her, he still felt that urge to grab her like he did when they were engaged, his mouth wet with wanting to kiss her. That was the hors d'oeuvres. He pulled himself away long enough to take a bite of the mushroom crepe she had so carefully made, arranging it on the plate fanned out like an art piece. He chewed it slowly, never taking his eyes of his Margret. John had no patience for this. `` This is ridiculous. You two act like you're the only people in the world. The only thing I have learned from you is that you should only look out for-'' Bang. The report of the revolver was so alien in the quiet dinner hall. Margret looked over, a brief look of sadness crossing her face as she rested the gun on the dainty table napkins, and for the first time in nearly twenty years, she spoke, `` That was close. This time took a lot longer than usual.'' George shrugged his customary shrug, and motioned upstairs questioningly. `` I suppose we better get started.''
[ WP ] You are secretly a Superhero . One day you are making dinner and feel a tap on your back . There stands your roommate with a shocked look on his face and a bent knife in his hands .	`` I knew it!'' he exclaimed. `` You really do have powers!'' I looked at him with a look of contempt. `` How did you know?'' I asked, my face twisting into a frown. `` I went through your stuff,'' he replied. No one had ever discovered my powers before. This situation was unprecedented. `` You ca n't tell anyone,'' I said matter of factly. `` Oh the contrary my friend, I will expose you if you do n't do as I say.'' I could n't believe this. Did this man just threaten ME? I am a being with super speed, super strength, and almost indestructible skin. `` And why would I do that?'' I laughed as I asked him. `` Well,'' he smirked, `` you do n't want me to tell your mom you could have saved her husband, do you?'' Shit. I could live with alot of things, but I could not live knowing my mother hates me on my conscience. Sure I could of saved her husband. But I hated my step dad. I hated him so much. `` Fuck off.'' My roommate was caught by surprise. `` What do you mean, I got you by the balls!'' he yelled. I stepped forward til we were almost chest to chest. `` Wan na know something?'' I asked, as my face twisted into a huge smile. `` I killed the fucker myself.'' My roommate began to back up as I laughed and laughed. `` He was a terrible husband, always cheating on mom, and an even worse step father.'' I advanced slowly on my roommate. `` You know I ca n't let you live now, right,'' I told him as I grabbed him by the arm. `` Please, I was just kidding!'' he cried out. But what was done, was done. So i flew him out to space and left him in orbit. When I got back, I decided to call my mom and chat. I missed her, school and superhero work had been taking up all of my time. The phone rang twice and then she picked up. `` Hey mom!,'' I said happily. `` Hello honey, I missed you,'' she said with that warm and loving voice. `` How have you been mom?'' She giggled in the background and playfully whispered to someone to stop. `` Who's that mom?'' I asked confused. `` Oh honey, it's my new boyfriend, you have got to meet him!'' Her voice grew faint as my thoughts got louder. It's always a son's duty to protect his mother. No one is good enough for my mom.. No one.
[ WP ] You wake up in a public bathroom chained to a pipe .	The smell. The smell woke me up. I opened my eyes, feeling the cold porcelain against my cheek. I was laying on the piss-covered floor, my legs almost outside of the stall, touching the grey plastic door, towering above me. I tried getting up, still groggy, and heard the loud clang which brought me right back to the floor tiles. I was handcuffed to a metal pipe coming out of the toilet. It was screwed to the wall. I tried moving around, yet again heard the loud clang. High above me, the fluorescent ceiling lamp flickered. I felt heavy, as if I had a big meal, and my mind was somewhat foggy. But the smell. It was a strong odor of urine. You know, the kind of urine when you do n't drink for a long while. And as I got more and more awake, the smell of feces also made it's way right up my nostrils. I was laying there, I do n't know for how long, just staring at the flickering ceiling light. I also noticed things written on the stall walls. I could n't read them. I'm not sure why I did n't scream for help. At the time, I thought I was alone, because I heard no one in there with me. But now, I think I know the real reason. I did n't scream because I did n't want to. I was laying on the piss covered tile floor, my face against the cold, dirty bowl of porcelain, my mind and body heavy, both my hands cuffed to a rusting pipe - and I felt at peace. I was n't panicking. I was n't scared. I was n't really... nothing at all. I was one with the world. A tile on the floor, a shining piece of porcelain, a rusting pipe, a flickering light. I was it. I do n't remember how I got out. I do n't remember walking out of the stall, changing my clothes, sitting at the cute little coffee shop sipping a latte while writing this all down. I do n't remember anything. Did I get out? Am I still there?
[ WP ] After a supernova explosion , scientists discover that the wave it released would destroy aged DNA . In other words , everyone on Earth that is over 13 years old is going to die in 2 weeks .	A Report on GRB-██0415 Professor Johann Reinn-Lasch, UNSED Astrophysicist. ATTENTION! THIS DOCUMENT IS CLASSIFIED, PERSONEL WITH INSUFFICIENT CLEARANCE WILL BE PROMPTLY TERMINATED. GRB-██0415 is a gamma-ray burst predicted to be at least 30 million light-years away from our solar system, associated with type 1 supernovae. The observation through Ellene-Foyer Space Observatory indicates that secondary burst is due to reach the solar system in █ weeks from the initial burst. This secondary burst, produced by Hendra-pattern gravitation collapse of the ejected mass of the original star, had been simulated through Enmity supercomputer, and the complete result is stored in the document UNSED-NTK-1288 ( top secret ). The gamma-ray radiation pattern of the secondary burst is unique in that the energy is concentrated in [ REDACTED ] μm wavelength, coinciding the average length of telomere in human chromosome older than ██ years old. The world leaders with age exceeding this limit has been evacuated to specialized nuclear bunkers, but with the short time limit, there are n't enough shelter to evacuate the rest of the world, thus the emergence of Mass Extinction Event could not prevented. As such, any documents regarding the secondary burst is stored in classified database on UNSED server, to prevent unnecessary panic in general public. UNSED-NTK-1288 Enmity Simulation Report on GRB-770415 TOP SECRET MATERIAL, UNSED HIGH COMMAND ACCESS ONLY Since this kind of burst is never predicted nor observed in previous burst, it's also to be noted that ordinary nuclear shelter could not properly defend the world VIP from the radiation. From information collected from Enmity simulation, we can not prevent the secondary burst to eliminate everyone anyone older than 13 years old, shelter or not. This information is not to be declassified without unanimous agreement of UNSED High Command. Through simulation ran by Enmity, the burst is predicted to reach Earth and eliminate everyone and everything with telomere length less than 8 kilobases, approximately 2.7 μm, in 2 weeks. No known shielding material or structure could dampen the radiation enough to stop the destructive properties of the burst. This is my last farewell. Treasure this last 2 weeks, I'll also close every research station under UNSED so we could make it count for something. Good bye. Graham Eidelfelt, UNSED Secretary-General
[ WP ] tell me a story where the first line and last line are the same but have entirely different meanings .	Those monsters are all in your mind. There is no bogeyman waiting underneath your bed. There is n't a Slenderman, waiting at the corner of the street to whisk you away. There is only you, here. And you are staying right here, right by me. No matter how much you scream, there is n't a ghost walking around the room. There is no Caspar here. Only you. And me. That doll? Ha. She ca n't even move. Look at her. She's not watching you. She ca n't do anything for you. The moon wo n't rise and bring out our inner beasts. They are already out. There is no Grim Reaper coming to end your life. At last. There is only me. I am real. Those monsters are all in your mind.
[ WP ] you are in a league of people with useless superpowers . Your power : The ability to change the temperature of things by only 1°F .	Slightly Chill always felt so vulnerable. She was n't a very big person, she was n't athletic, even after the training she had received since becoming a'Special' in Axiox. She was still a bit clumsy and holding guns made her sweat like a Clinton's PR manager. Every time they called her up she knew it was going to be dangerous, it was going to involve a lot of people, and that she was probably going to vomit at least once. This time it had been on the helicopter ride over. At least she got it out of her system. They were in a sewer now, abandoned, but still quite fragrant. If she had n't puked before... At least Caulky was here with her. Caulky was a tall, lanky woman from Detroit. She had pale skin and dreadlocks, and at first glance everyone put her in the'Hipster pothead' class and dismissed her. That was just what she liked about the look. In actuality, she was a brilliant leader who saw the potential in people like Slightly long before anyone else had. Of course, Caulky was a Class Two just like Slightly. Caulky could fix cracks. That was her entire ability, but when used properly, it became quite handy indeed. It took a long time for Axiox to figure out a way to use powers like they had, but now they did and it made Slightly feel a lot better about herself as a person. It also made her puke, so perhaps it all balances out. `` We're here.'' One of the large, military types said over their radio. He was the one in front with the really heavy helmet. His name was Jacobs. Slightly had never met him before this operation. `` You got the jackhammer?'' Caulky asked. Her voice was always calm and lazy, like she was browsing in a used records store instead of partaking in undercover sabotage. `` Wraithcord explosives. Stand behind your escorts.'' Jacobs commanded. Caulky and Slightly both obeyed, stepping behind the massive, armored men and women that had been assigned to them. Caulky winked at Slightly as she held her ears. Two minutes later the explosion thumped through the abandoned sewer, shaking slime and dust from the ceiling and making it fall down on the group of them. A large green wad splatted on Slightly's jacket and she groaned inwardly. Should she wipe it off with her hand? No, it would get on her hand then, but she did n't want it on her jacket! Caulky reached over with a rag and wiped it off, then threw the rag away into the darkness. `` Breach open. Alarms sounded. Can you confirm visual on target?'' The armed guards parted and Slightly peered through the dust at the giant crack in the wall that had been created on their side, and the tiny little crack that had been left on the inner layer. She set her eye to the thin crack and looked into a room that was flashing with strobe lights and filled with lots of scientific equipment. `` That's the virus lab?'' `` Dr. Kyvetsky's main fabrication center, in all of it's glory.'' Jacobs snorted, `` Bastard.'' Slightly nodded and scooched closer, wrinkling her nose at all the dust. The dust itself would contaminate the clean room, but Slightly Chill was there to ruin everything else. She'd done this a few times, always with different teams. Specials, Tacticals and Supers all mixed up to do one job that will save the world, or at least prevent the world from getting a little bit more shittier. She knew what to look for. The temperature controlled transport containers, the specialized microfridge units. She scanned the room and made note of each one in her line of sight. Slightly Chill closed her eyes and felt them all, felt the amount of heat in each of them and how they were balanced. She moved the heat. Switching a single degree from one unit to another. Making one a little hotter, making one a little cooler. She took a deep breath and ducked back as she saw armed guards storm the room she was peering into. They rushed around the area, looking for the breach that had set off the alarms. She took another deep breath and performed her little trick again, two degrees different now. The enemy soldiers were looking around in confusion now, not seeing the army they had expected to face. Slightly knew it was only a matter of time before they spotted the crack in the wall she was looking through. She had to hurry. She took another breath and rebalanced the levels again. An alarm sounded on one of the microfridge units. The Guards all swung their rifles to aim at it and Slightly grinned. The alarm meant the stasis had been compromised. One batch of biological warfare destroyed. She moved heat again and more alarms sounded. Four degrees did n't sound like a lot, but it was enough, in the right circumstances, to create quite a lot of problems. `` Alright. That's enough.'' Caulky grabbed Slightly by her shoulder and pulled her back, `` We're running out of time.'' `` One more.'' Slightly fought the pull of the hand on her, `` Just one more will do it.'' Slightly could feel the fatigue building up in her mind but she fought to focus anyways. She took one last deep breath and moved heat for the final time. The whole lab went up in alarms and Slightly staggered back into the arms of a waiting soldier. She watched through a haze as Caulky stepped forward and placed a single finger on the top of the crack they had created. She ran the finger down the wall and it sealed up as if it had never taken an explosive charge at all. `` Axiox control, we can report mission success. Evac plan six starting now.'' Jacobs radioed in while Caulky took over the job of supporting Slightly with and arm around her shoulders. `` Good job, Kid.'' Caulky shoved her to the side a little, just enough to make her wobble, `` Five uses today! You're getting better.'' `` Practice makes perfect.'' Slightly smiled and stumbled down the ancient stone of the abandoned sewers, `` Maybe someday I can heat up a pot of coffee.'' `` Reach for the stars, kid.'' Caulky grinned, `` Reach for the stars.''
[ EU ] You are a parent of a child attending hogwarts . Write a letter to the school administration expressing your dissatisfaction with a new professor who was obviously only hired as an excuse for crossover writing prompts , and is clearly not qualified to teach magic to anyone .	CONFIDENTIAL DO NOT ACCEPT IF SEAL IS BROKEN From the desk of Vincent Tsamvorgan Head of the Office of Unusual Affairs and Occurrences, Headmaster Dumbledore, I am sorry to have to contact you but this matter is of grave importance. Not just to you, me or my son, but to the entirety of the wizarding world and the balance of global power. According to my son Joffery, a first year at this academy, your defense instructor is the single worst teacher that this place has ever had the displeasure of staffing. Not only is he utterly unable to perform the most simple of spells, but any magical object he touches seems to stop functioning the instant he makes contact. Apparently this goes for everything, the rememberalls he confiscates revert to lumps of glass, flavored potion drinks lose all taste and become nothing more than sludge, even wands ( and I understand how outlandish this might seem ) stop working when he holds them. Now, I understand that these might just be rumors, however I think every rumor has some basis in truth and so you should look into these occurrences, especially given how…unnatural they are. If you refuse then I will be forced to send an inquisitor to scope out the situation for myself. Given my position as a higher up at the ministry, I can not afford to overlook a voiding magic such as this that is both so unusual and dangerous. This has the potential to upend our society at such a fundamental level that not even the oracle can predict what would happen if this got out. If the rumors turn out to be true, then we, both myself and the ministry as a whole, will have no choice but to act. I hope you will cooperate with us, otherwise this will worsen. I ’ m not talking about my department or the ministry as a whole will escalate the situation, but rather once Alastair gets wind of this then there is no way that this won ’ t end in bloodshed. As you know, he ’ s not the most cooperative of souls and crossing him risks a brutal, costly, and pointless conflict. I am telling you this in confidence, if war were to break out, given our numbers and the time it takes to train a single wizard or witch to a competent level, we would lose. Badly. Not only that, but rumor has it Alastair also has in his possession what amounts to two or three “ archangles ” that don ’ t operate on our magical laws but rather those of muggle science. Please Albus, I am begging you, look into this and get back to me. I really don ’ t want to cause any more trouble than I have to. Regards, Vincent P.S.: My son also tells me that your flight instructor is able to aviate without a broom? Apparently he just presses some button on his neck and starts hovering in the air. It ’ s clearly not a simple levitation spell, as my son said that some of his poorly behaved classmates took off at top speed on the first day, thinking that they could show off for the girls in the group, only to be intercepted by that same instructor, who was still without the aid of the broom. Here ’ s the amazing bit, the boy ’ s broomsticks were Firebolt 8500s, or so I am told. Catching them while at full speed should not be possible with a simple self-levitation charm. Rapid magical flight without broomsticks, that ’ s something I might have to see for myself someday. What an age we live in!
[ PI ] A person wakes up in bed , drenched in salty sea water	I dreamt about being a fish. You know what separates humans the most from other creatures? It's our minds. That may seem like an obvious answer, but just think to yourself for a second, what actually is the mind? If you were to search for it, you would n't find it. Yes, you'd find the large fleshy lump that we know is our brain, but other animals have brains too, and we would n't necessarily consider their brains to have minds. In truth, it is the unexplained absence of our minds that truly brings about their existence. It's our consciousness which transcends us as a species and which is what allows us to love, feel, think and live. So what does that say about the life of a fish? Very little, perhaps. Maybe there are fish out there right now, thinking about all different branches of philosophy or wondering why they are limited to the seas. But I very much doubt it. I believe that we are unique in our ability to think on a higher level, about everything. Let me explain. In my dream, there were only a few things I was concerned about. Most prominently, food. Where would my next meal come from? Where would I find the sustenance that would allow me to continue on my never-ending journey into this azure desert? Next, perhaps, was company. My friends are my life, if it were not for them I would be isolated and alone in this barren wasteland that humans know to be the ocean. And finally, I suppose, there is the slightest sense of belonging. I know that even though I may not want to be here, I should be here. I thrive in the gentle waves that can instantly turn into rapid currents, I can see through the swirling bubbles that blind humans and deep into the beckoning darkness below that they so rarely explore. But that is all I know. There is no love and no attachment. There is no sentient thought or abstract quantities. So before you go to sleep at night, before you speak to another person or lay eyes upon a loved one, ask yourself, truly, what is it that makes you human? If you continue to live in a lifeless, loveless manner, then I may not be the only unfortunate soul who wakes up to find themselves soaked in salty sea water.
[ WP ] You wake up to find that .01 % of the worlds population have been given super powers , some mundane , some extraordinary . You find that your power is to grant others any power on the spectrum , or take them away , but you ca n't give yourself any power , and each person can only have one power .	`` The court will hear case number 4276, in the matter of Billings v. Holdsworth.'' I look at each party, each dressed for the occasion. Each in a tailored suit, with traditional haircuts. Neither of their lawyers with bar complaints or judicial warnings, that I know of. Orderly, respectful, I like that. I look to my left to catch the eye of Susan, an old friend to whom I owed a favor. She had been a paralegal back in the day, good at her job, but unsatisfied in a deep, carnal way. She still read the briefs, but I gave her a way to read their minds. On my right was Jason. An old priest who knew too many of my sins, I allowed him his deepest desire. He can tell whenever anyone is lying. The confessional became too much for him, but he's not the type to return a gift. And I? I'm the executioner. Some people petition the court to gain an ability. We get all sorts. Those who want to have an edge in their job or research, those who want to offset a loss of their genetic lottery, but most who think there's a fast and easy solution to obtain happiness and fulfillment. Others petition the court to have a power removed. Some for themselves, but most for others. Someone used their power to break into a bank and stole millions, someone used their power to escape traditional prison for a heinous crime they obviously committed, someone's power is too much for them to emotionally or responsibly handle. `` Have we reached a decision?'' I ask Susan. Lunch is next on the agenda, and there's a sandwich artist in the lobby of our office building who has the superpowers to prove it. `` Wait!'' Holdsworth speaks up, causing her lawyer to frant. All eyes turn to her as she stands. `` I did n't even get to present my case!'' `` We've already read it.'' I mutter, turning sharply as Jason clears his throat disagreeably. He should know I mean `` we'' as a collective and not me personally. I unfurrow my brow, and touch Susan's hand, hoping that we rule against her. Such a disrespectful outburst borders on blasphemy. I am a god. She should be reverent. `` A fair ruling dictates two actions in this case. A loss for Billings and a gain for Holdsworth.'' Susan says, turning her palm up to face mine. It's our signal that she's heard enough for now, and would like a break. I remove her power and she's just Susan again. She looks up at me thankfully, and I know she'll never be just Susan to me. Breaking away from those doey brown eyes, I look at Jason for confirmation and he nods, though reluctantly. Darn, Holdsworth looks relieved, though confused. From what I scanned of the case, I believe she was only petitioning for a removal for Billings, there was no mention of a gain request. I look back at Susan, who leans in to whisper the request in my ear. I repeat it to Jason, just to cover my bases, and he breaks out in a huge grin, laughing gleefully as he agrees. Ah what the hell, why not? `` Billings you have been accused and charged of using your Gift in ways that neither Bill nor Ted would approve. I hereby take away your ability to grow your toenails at any speed you choose, and may you find a way to deal with the challenges of normality.'' I gave him my usual speech, having been fuzzy on the details. `` Holdsworth, despite your outburst, the court has found your patience and charitable nature to be worthy of a reward of a Gift. You will now be able to - ow!'' Susan elbowed me in the ribs, right when I was about to get to the most fun part of my day. Have it her way. `` Well let's just say, you'll be able to compliment your husband's Gift quite well.'' There was a pause, and then Holdsworth turned a lovely shade of maroon as it dawned on her. That more than made up for any earlier sins. I hit the gravel on the desk and adjured the gathering for a one hour recess. I made a beeline for the door before I remembered and turned around to shout, `` And remember, be excellent to each other!''
[ WP ] 100 years in the future and roads are obsolete . The government is auctioning off all interstate highways to the highest bidder and you have specific plans for them .	A man stands behind a podium, in front of a large crowd. Map of US Interstate System hanging on wall behind the speaker. He wears an Italian cut suit, in dark brown. His hair is slicked back. He almost looks like he's running for President \* Ahem * Today we unveil the future in cross country travel. Sure, vacuum trains and high speed planes have long since made these roads obsolete, but the people responsible for building those fast and efficient transport systems might have forgotten one thing. The thrill of speed. The wind across your face. The fun for exciting travel. See, their little air tight smooth and squeaky clean pods may be the most efficient thing possible, but my god are they dull. This is why, I introduce the most exciting, albeit slightly slower way to travel cross country. Welcome, the worlds largest water-slide, US Route Fun. Confetti Cannons go off in Background, party music starts playing The speaker rips off his business suit, into nothing but a speedo. He runs off to the side of the stage, at which point he belly flops onto a rectangle of latex, and slides off stage. He can be seen sliding off into the sunset
[ WP ] Her voice was so beautiful , when she sang , Death himself would stop his work and listen .	“ Damn it, Death! If you keep this up, I ’ ll have you replaced! ” the Lord of the Dead shouted angrily. “ It ’ s not my fault that your wife decided to give your daughter the most beautiful voice on the planet, ” Death retorted. “ That may be, but I thought you were unable to be distracted. ” Death sighed. Once upon a time, it was true, but then the Lord of the Dead married the Goddess of Music and they had a daughter named Aria who was blessed with a beautiful singing voice. “ I used to be, but your daughter ’ s voice is lovely, ” Death replied. “ I know. I ’ m tired of having this conversation with you. Either find a way to ignore her singing, or find another job, ” the Lord of the Dead said firmly. “ Maybe you could give me a break whenever she starts singing, ” Death suggested. “ I ’ ll think about it. Now get back to work! ” “ Yes, Sir, ” Death muttered as he turned and left the throne room. A few minutes later, Death had sent a few souls to his boss and was just about to take another one when the sound of Aria ’ s voice reached his ears. “ Damn it, ” he muttered as he stopped and listen. Unless the Lord of the Dead decided to give him a break, Death was going to be in trouble.
[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Leave A Story , Leave A Comment - Down The Rabbit Hole Edition !	# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) Sergeant Samuel Hitch spat dun colored saliva onto his strider-leather gloves and hefted his bill hook up, trying to ignore the screams of dying men and beast. He failed, his quilted arming cap and sallet helm barely muffling the grating shrieks of wounded horses and bellowing dinosaurs. He could stomach the cries of the knights and their men-at-arms though; fuck them. Beneath his rather meager kit Hitch was practically boiling, the sweat stained gambeson and battered cuirass of boiled nosehorn leather serving admirably to trap the summer's heat. He resisted the urge to reach for the canteen slung at his side; it was all too easy to find oneself dry hours into a battle and cursing ones weak will. So instead Hitch cursed his own damn decisions which found him here, stewing in his own juices as men moved forward with the intent on killing him. The son of a Anglaterran cobbler, Samuel Hitch swore off the prentice's path and instead joined up with a free company heading towards the continent in search of glory and plunder. He saw little of the former and the latter was spent as quickly as it came on cheap ale and cheaper whores. But at least his footwear was in good shape. `` Well Sergeant, may the Creators watch o'er you.'' The man next to him said. Tim Lockland was a ferret of a man with a snaggletooth mouth and beady black eyes. He wore a short surcoat over his shirt of leather scales, the faded blue fabric taken off some dead pikeman. He went without a visor with his sallet, preferring the unimpeded few and ease of breath over the increased protection. Sam Hitch kissed the Deinonychus talon which hung round his neck for luck. More commonly called a horror, the three meter long pack hunters were favorite animals of nobles for both hunting and war, and capable of bringing down the largest war-dinosaurs. He barely survived the encounter, stabbing with his dagger through its eye and into its brain as it lunged down to finish him off. `` The same for you, Lock.'' `` Attenshun! Prepare to receive cavalry!'' The billmen lowered their polearms with practiced ease, presenting a lethal hedge of steel towards the cantering horses. Dressed gaily in caparison covering them from head to tail in the heraldry of their riders they thundered towards the mercenaries' lines, their metal shod hooves kicking a cloud of rising dust behind them. Banners and pennants fluttered in the wind, snapping loud even over the distance. `` Sergeant?'' asked Lockland, having to shout to be heard. `` What?'' replied Hitch. `` Our bills are about six feet long, yeah?'' `` Just about.'' `` How long do you think the lances of those bucketheads are?'' Lockland asked ruefully. `` Ten, maybe twelve feet at a guess,'' Sergeant Hitch answered. `` Why?'' `` Now, I'm not all that sharp with numbers but I think that's near twice the length of ours...'' Lock's words trailed off, the men on either side of him sketching the picture in their minds. It was n't a rosy one. `` Wishing you joined a pike unit, Lock?'' Danny Deever asked behind him. `` Fuck no! I'm wishing I never slept with that youngest daughter of that baron; I'd be strung up the highest tree if I returned home.'' `` And what a shame that'd be,'' Deever drawled. `` Here they come!'' someone further down the line shouted, the rising thunder muffling further words. Sergeant Hitch slapped down the visor to his sallet, his view of the world reduced to one small slit. Sod this for a game of soldiers, Hitch thought, feeling the quake of three hundred steeds charging across the barren field. A hundred yards away came the the cry `` Death or Glory!'' `` Soldiers of the Grey Company!'' Shouted Captain Thomas Gander, the Grey Goose Himself from the back of his green and black Lambeosaurus. `` Give them cold steel!'' `` Cold steel,'' echoed the eight hundred. `` Is master of men all!'' The longbowmen notched bodkins onto the strings of their weapons, drawing with a eerie creak of stretching yew. As one they raised their bows to the sky, the fletching of the arrows just kissing their lips. `` Ready... Ready... *Loose! '' In a terrible snap of six hundred strings striking bracers the arrows flew like a cloud of steel and ash and grey fletching, streaking towards the sky in a lethal whir. Slowing down they reached the apex of their flight, pausing for a moment as they seemed to halt in mid-air. Slowly, terribly, the deadly steel rain tilted back towards the earth with a dreadful hiss like that of some terrible hailstorm. Already the archers had nocked and fired two more volleys before the first landed. Shaped like some wicked needle or thorn, bodkins were specially designed to punch through the thickest armor, focusing all the power and momentum of the arrow on the smallest point possible... The first hit was a horse, a beautiful mare dressed in a yellow and black caparison. In a flash of silver and grey the arrow vanished as it struck the beasts head, punching clean through its skull and brain before bursting out through its neck. The steed toppled as if its hocks were cut, tumbling armored head over armored haunch. The knight mounted upon it had little time to scream before the weight of the horse landed upon him, every organ in his body smashed to a bloody pulp. Three more horses behind could n't clear the body of their fallen sister and so tripped, breaking legs and twisting necks in cacophony of shrieking beasts. A knight with a surcoat of green and black took an arrow straight to the eye slit, a stream of blood gushing from the wound as he cried aloud, dropping his lance to scrabble at his face. A second arrow slammed through the chain mail protecting his groin, the narrow head punching through the steel rings. He screamed an octave higher and fell from his saddle to be trampled into the dust, the metal-shod hooves denting his plate armor like a smith's hammer. In a single breath three arrows impacted against a knight dressed in red and white, a nosehorn decorating his shield. One glanced off the mirror smooth plate, the broken arrow twirling away but the other two struck true, one sinking deep into his neck, the other pinning his foot to his stirrup. A river of blood welled from the wound by his neck, an artery having been sliced. Dropping lance and reins he slumped over, his horse falling back in the charging ranks. Dozens of knights and scores of horses were felled in that first volley, but still the armored nobles charged forward, driven by foolhardiness and drunk on honor and glory. The second wave of bodkin arrows was even deadlier, the distance and arc less than the first. More and more of the arrows pierced through armor, more and more the flower of chivalry fell upon the dusty ground, watering the fields with their blood. Behind them was a carpet of dead and dying knights, their mounts like islands in a sea of gore. `` They ai n't stopping for shit!'' Someone cried. `` Death or Glory!'' Came the reply. One final volley, the entire front rank of knights toppling like ten pins, their brethren leaping over their bodies, lances leveled and pennants flapping. Fucking hell... * -- Good morning! I hope you're all doing well. As usual here's a link to my page /r/LovableCoward/. Please, enjoy and tell me what you think!
[ WP ] You live in a society where at the end of each day , you can choose to relive it , but without retaining any knowledge of what happened previously . A number in your peripheral vision shows how many previous times you lived through the current day . Almost always that number is 0 . Today it is 7212 .	Fourteen questions. 7212 in binary works out to 01110000101100, if you add a leading zero to make it fourteen bits. So the answers must be false true true true false false false false true false true true false false. `` Put down you pencils. Trade you papers with someone next to you, and grade theirs.'' The teacher waits for everyone to finish, and then reads off the answers. `` False'' So far, so good. `` False'' Wait, what? `` True'' But I already did all the false false ones. `` True'' I'd have already gotten that test correctly. `` False'' And even if I messed up, I'd have known I would n't get it right later. `` True'' Or I'd have figured that out in the next several thousand loops. `` False'' Was I hoping that on the 10011010... th pass I'd double check? `` False'' That seems excessive, even for me. `` True'' Was it for something else? I hear a gunshot. Is this what it's about? I do n't know how many bits I'll need, so I remove the leading one. 1110000101100 The teacher locks the door, but knob gets shot off. Should I try to stop them? 1110000101100 The door opens. The shooter points a gun at me. 1110000101100 I dodge left. They swing the gun at you again. 1110000101100 I dodge left again. I take bullet to the shoulder. With all the adrenaline, I can barely feel it. Should have dodged right there. I'll get it right in 256 tries or so. In the meantime, I might as well go for broke. `` I'm in a groundhog day loop. Anyone wan na fuck?''
[ IP ] Living Streets	It was sickness and disease that Umeko wanted to fight, not the demons of someone else's past. But now, with Dias withholding the latest medicine shipment, she would have to deal with a situation she was n't used to being in, and had never planned on entering. The warm Kagoshima rain pattered onto her umbrella hat, and all around her commuters were headed for the ferry dock in one direction, and for the food concourse in the other. Her eyes lingered on a passing Caucasian man for a few moments, which her implant misinterpreted for interest. It told her he had features of Greek ancestry, his movement and momentum suggested a small frame and lean, muscular body, and that the clothes he was wearing indicated he had the income of a lower middle-class person. With the slightest bit of anger, Umeko averted her eyes. She hated this implant, how it always told her everything she did n't want to know about everything her eyes lingered on. But she needed it, and she needed it right now more than ever. There was a red light blinking in the corner of her vision. The implant had detected someone, a man, Filipino, wiry and strong. He had a short ponytail and tattoos on his arms, accentuated by his khaki sleeveless shirt. Though drenched, he did n't seem to mind the rain much. “ Lady Sukuna? ” he asked, inspecting her in a less than cavalier manner. Umeko nodded, seeing that he was indeed unarmed, as agreed upon. “ You're with Dias? ” “ Might be with you soon. ” His smile revealed a set of sharp, white teeth. The smile of a predator. “ Cut the crap. Where is my shipment? ” Umeko knew that being assertive was the most important part of negotiating with criminals. “ In the city, ready to be picked up. If you meet his demands, that is. Otherwise you can kiss your profits good bye. ” He puckered his lips. “ I'm not doing this for profit, ” Umeko responded, irritated. “ You mean you do n't have illegal drugs smuggled into your country at a hefty markup to make money? What kind of operation are you running here? ” “ One that does n't concern you. ” She'd already said too much. If Dias and his people found out what she did, it would not take them long to figure out who she really was. “ What do you want? ” “ Well, the guy Dias is buying from over in the fatherland has increased prices. He went out of his pocket to get the load here in time, because he knows how you are about schedules, but he'll need that paid for. ” “ How much? ” Umeko knew he was lying. She knew the people he was buying the medicine from down in the Philippines. Hell, she co-owned the factory they were being produced in. The contact shook his head. “ This time it's not about money. Dias is willing to take over the share this time around if you do him a favour. You know a man called Jett Stone? Tall, blond hair, black eyes? From New Zealand? ” He posed the question as though he did n't already know the answer to it. So it was about him. She damned herself for ever not listening to Jett. She should have gone with Yakuza smugglers instead. They were cheaper and had no beef with him, but then again there were their corporate ties... “ I need him. His skills are an integral part of my operation, ” she explained. “ He's just a doctor. Plenty of doctors in this city. Good ones, too, many looking to make some money. You'd do well to look into hiring someone new for his position. ” “ I'll pay double, ” Umeko decided. She was not going to lose her head pharmacist. “ And not just double the usual price, but double the new price, which I will agree to pay henceforth. ” The smuggler grinned. “ See, if you're running an operation not for profit but, apparently, for charity, you should n't be able to throw around money like you do. It begs the question: where do you get your funding from? ” There was another alarm on her iris screen. It was a message from Jett. The stars have fallen into the green bosom of Mount Fuji. Umeko tensed up. Images flashed through her mind, of her clinic being raided by police, of the countless poor who would die of terrible diseases because they had no access to the medicine they needed. “ One would theorize that you are the daughter of someone wealthy, and by that I mean very wealthy. And one might also be able to reach out to that person and tell them what you have been doing, in exchange for a lot of money, and the promise to lure you away from where the police is currently arresting all of your accomplices. ” His predatory grin widened. Umeko turned around. She needed to get away, back to her clinic, but there, behind her, was a mountain of a man in a black uniform. Coming from the ramen shop to her right were two more, clad in the same uniform. Another three approached from behind her contact, who was backing away. Tenshin Security. Her father's men. “ Do n't worry. No jail for you, pretty girl. You're too rich for that, ” the smuggler said as he turned around and passed between the men that had surrounded her. “ You're making a mistake! Dias is making a mistake! I'm good business! ” she screamed, her heart pounding. “ The only reasons these drug imports are illegal is so Japanese Pharma has a monopoly on them! They're not harmful to anyone! I'm helping people! ” “ You've cost your father a lot of money, Little Firefly, ” said a voice she knew all too well. Takeshi, or Old Samurai, as the other servants called him, was suddenly right there. “ This could have ended very badly for you. ” She looked at the man who had watched over her childhood with nothing but spite in her eyes. “ You're a dog, a corporate slave. ” She spat at his face, hitting only his chest. “ I hate you! ” Takeshi smiled and produced a small syringe from his pocket. “ Do n't worry, Little Firefly, ” he said as he uncapped it. “ It's straight back home for you. ” [ moar ] ( https: //whoisbetty.com/ )
[ WP ] You finally have an exterminator scheduled to rid your place of cock roaches . You wake up to see a whole mass of them next to your bed . They want to negotiate .	`` OH WHAT IS GOING ON AM I DREAMING????? `` We are those pesky cockroaches you tried to kill.'' The man still waking up and still not believing that he is awake looks up to see a mountain of cockroaches piled together as one is on top eating a crumb speaking to him. `` How are you... wait YOU'RE TALKING!!'' `` Silly human, of course we can talk!'' What the man did n't know is that cocroaches have been on Earth much longer and are much smarter and efficient than humans. `` Now what I want from you is to surrender half of your house to us, or the dog gets it.'' `` No, this is just some stupid dream. I'm going back to bed.'' `` Silly human.'' A FEW DAYS LATER `` PODLIE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU!'' The man woke up to see his dog dead next to him on the floor, he know realised that was no dream. `` Okay you cockroaches! You can have the whole house! I'm out, good day!''
[ WP ] A cyborg who 's worn out living parts were progressively replaced to prolong life has ultimately lost their last piece of humanity and their ability to feel emotion is now nothing but a memory .	The upgrade was necessary, and perfectly safe. That did n't make it bother Caplain any less. It was rather simple, they siphon the electrical signals in the organic brain off and redirect them into the persona core. The organic brain is killed in the process, but consciousness and ego are not interrupted. Some early forms of the process were not so successful, and effectively killed the original person leaving what amounted to a clone of them. This was problematic, and the mind shunt was developed. It was still somewhat problematic. Caplain knew the persona core did n't have the capacity to reproduce organic emotions. The chemical reactions and hormones were not something they had successfully copied. The facility however did assure him he would be able to somewhat feel through the power of his memory. He would know when he should be mad, excited, or sad. Even if he is n't actively feeling it. A somewhat dispassionate outlook on life is a common side effect. `` Were starting now, were going to put you under for the operation because the persona core has to be installed after the transfer. If we left you awake it would be quite jarring to be locked inside of it without a body. We will bring you back up right after its installed in the cranial compartment.'' Then everything went dark.
[ WP ] There is no prompt . Just write a story you 've always been thinking about or one you 've been thinking about sharing . Anything goes .	Different People -- - `` Is he asleep?'' `` Yes,'' she said. `` He's a heavy sleeper.'' She peeked into the crib, before pulling her head back up. `` I sometimes worry that he's not breathing. I'll pull up a chair and look at him for hours, just watching his chest rise and fall.'' I glanced over to the little figure. He was so small. `` The time between breaths must be scary.'' She nodded. `` It feels like forever. I panic. I immediately think that I'm a terrible mother and that no one else has ever screwed up being a mother until I came along.'' I shrugged. `` You would n't be the first.'' She tiptoed around the room, arranging and organizing and cleaning things. She was always messy -- it did n't seem like parenthood had changed her in that regard all that much. `` Did I show you the painting I'm working on?'' `` No.'' `` Come here,'' she said, as she led me by the hand. I repressed the reaction to flinch, ignoring the electricity that I felt start at my fingertips and end in my shoulders. In her too-small kitchen was a canvas, half-complete. I did n't know what I was looking at. `` Well?'' she said. `` It's not done.'' She sighed. `` I know that. How does it make you feel?'' I squinted at the canvas, trying to see if I could derive deeper meaning from it. A family playing in the grass, a couple holding hands, a lonely man -- what was it? `` It's kind of like,'' I started, wanting to be careful with how I worded things, `` a song that you kind of know, but it stops before it gets to that part that you know how to sing.'' I immediately cringed. Terrible choice of words. `` I hate that,'' she said with a laugh. `` It sounds like I have a little more work to do, then.'' She picked up a brush and her palette. `` If you're wondering, the answer is yes,'' she said, almost off-hand. `` It does feel different.'' `` Being a mother?'' `` Being a lot of different things.'' `` Like what?'' `` Being older.'' `` 32 is n't old.'' `` But it's not 21. 21 is Tinder and driving in cars with boys and road trips with the girls and studying until 2 am.'' `` And what's 32?'' She pursed her lips into a smile. `` 32 is being an entirely different thing.'' She started painting in the blank parts of the canvas, as if she knew exactly what needed to be where, without second guessing or pre-planning or sketching. `` 32 is,'' she continued, `` is laughing at old diaries, taking multivitamins every morning, and compromising when I do n't agree with my husband. You just kind of know things that you did n't when you were younger.'' `` Like what will happen tomorrow?'' I offered helpfully. `` I think when you get to be where I am,'' she said, looking over my shoulder to where her baby was sleeping in the living room, `` you do n't worry about tomorrow as much.''
[ WP ] Aliens have arrived ! But ... they 're completely ignoring us .	`` THEY ARE LANDING IN NEW YORK CITY... I REPEAT....THE ALIENS ARE LANDING IN NEW YORK CITY...'' said the national news anchor on Jim's set. Jim stares at the television groggily and sees a pool on his shirt. He wipes the mustard with his hand and licks up the smear; Too lazy to go to the kitchen to wash my hands, he thought. Now, Jim whom has the great opportunity of taking up residence in New York City this past year to pursue his job as an architect ( which soon failed and now he is unemployed and getting paid unemployment, but has no real motivation to find a job ). Jim stands up and stretches his back, quickly turning the volume down. He is hungover. Again. Jim has a bit of a drinking problem. He walks over to the bar in his kitchenette and takes a long swig of last night's beer. * Got ta go to the liquor store, Jim thought. Maybe I should actually change clothes today. * Jim walks over to his bathroom to check himself in the mirror and see if he needs to change. Having a drinking problem has made him a bit of a slob… but at least today he is at least THINKING about his appearance. Good job Jim. Hair- whatever. T-shirt- couple of stains on Spiderman but who cares. Beer belly- Man it ’ s getting big. Kinda sticking out through the shirt… Oh well. Pants- wearing them. Well, we thought you had good intentions. Let ’ s see if he will brush his teeth. Jim walks out of his apartment building with yesterday ’ s Taco Bell fresh on his breath; bean burritos ( yep ) and suddenly there are people all around him running East. What the fuck? Are these people high or something, ” Jim wondered. Jim turns to westward on the street and begins walking towards the EZ Mart. He walks for 15 yards and then turns to the nearest major intersection. What…tha…, Jim faintly remembers waking up to some news anchor saying something about aliens landing. Apparently there had been a giant ship over the ocean for days but the government was withholding the information from its citizens but the information leaked via a whistleblower. The Nation had been in all out panic mode ESPECIALLY New York City as it is the nearest major city to the ship. Everyone had been evacuating for weeks leaving Jim and other low income individuals behind. All of this would have gone through Jim ’ s head if he had actually paid attention to the news once in a while. Jim keep up with current events? Yea right. The dude hasn ’ t changed his underwear n a week! Jim stares in disbelief at the space ship landing feet in front of him. The ship is shaped much like a giant speed boat but meant for air. Suddenly light spills from cracks on it ’ s sleek chrome aerodynamic hull and a bay opens. Dude…What the fuck is this? Am I fucking dreaming or something? * The bay door touches the ground and Jim stumbles backwards. Worried, Jim turns and starts to run away from the ship, but he had A LOT to drink last night and hasn ’ t run in 24 years so he was quickly subdued by exhaustion and severe laziness. Alright fuck you aliens! I don ’ t care. Just KILL ME! Jim thought. Man. Listen to this guy. He needs to get some professional help before he is looked at as an intergalactic representative of the human race. Pathetic. Well, back to the issue at hand. Jim stares at the bay ( obviously at rock bottom in his life ) and suddenly sees two slender humanoids exiting the space craft. They are not wearing any clothes and this allows their translucent white skin to almost glow in the glare of the sun. They stand about 6 ’ 4 ” and have giant heads with giant black wasp-like eyes. “ Holy fuck… ” Jim croaks. The taller of the two extraterrestrials does a scanning of his surroundings. He turns his head from left to right slowly and his gaze passes right over Jim standing there petrified having pissed his pants. The smaller of the two does a quarter turn towards the taller and says “ Meh. ” Jim standing there petrified, jaw gaping, watches anxiously in terror as the two aliens about face and quickly and gracefully stride back into the craft. The bay doors close and the craft wheezes as it lifts off the ground and jolts into the sky in a flash and disappears from sight. Jim falls to his knees drenched in his own urine and starts crying. He is rushed with emotions but is wondering Maybe this will be my second chance at LIFE. Thank you God for sparing me! Is our hero Jim actually having a life changing moment? I sure hope so because it is sooo boring narrating such a loser… Although the aliens were cool as shit… News quickly breaks about the man that Jim is the first man to see and interact with beings from another world. Jim instantly becomes a celebrity. The day after the invasion Jim goes and gets drunk and raves about how he is the intergalactic human ambassador and everybody is eating everything he is saying. He is actually the life of the party. Hours later we observe Jim leaving the bar and wait…. Jim what are you doing… JIM NO. Jim swerves right into a cop car as he was driving drunk. He is now in prison for attempted man slaughter. That ’ s right folks. I ’ m the guy that narrates THAT GUY ’ S life.
[ EU ] The infant Kal-El arrives on Earth during the height of the Roman Empire . Destiny awaits .	`` Balthazar, come quickly! Gaspar returns! I believe we have found them!'' With an inward sigh the old Chaldean shifted his weight from his walking staff and picked up his pace slightly to catch up with his travelling companion, who had stopped at the edge of a rise looking down over some village or another. This was not the first time Melchior had confidently proclaimed they had arrived at their destination, and he suspected it would not be the last. His feet were weary and his stomach protested the meager offerings he had had to give it the past three days - after the rations given to them when leaving the king's court had finally run out, they'd been forced to rely on the generosity of fellow travelers on the road. Fortunately because of Quirinius' census there were many such travelers to be encountered along the way, but three old men on a journey could not hope for much aid when fathers struggled to keep their own families fed on the road. The officials of the towns they passed would do nothing to help them; they would succeed or fail on their own merits, and the Romans could care less about whether foreigners made it to their destination or not, as they were not merchants engaged in trade for denarii. How exciting and foolhardy they had been for those first few days! Balthazar was not a young man any more, but he had felt a vigor and sense of purpose he'd not known for two decades after the Persian had boldly pronounced his astrological observations. They'd set off on this fool's quest to follow a shooting star, and now he might never live it down when he returned home, how Balthazar, a learned scholar, had let himself be deluded into tagging along on yet another of Melchior's well-intentioned but ultimately pointless `` adventures''. That realization was only reinforced when he arrived beside the Persian, staring down at the structure on the outskirts of the village. `` An inn?'' he asked skeptically. Hardly the sort of place one would expect to find a shooting star in. `` Not an inn,'' called out Gaspar, already rejoining them having returned from up the road. `` The stables, next to it. He who we've searched for is there.'' * * * * '' Live as one of them, Kal-El, to discover where your strength and your power are needed. But always hold in your heart the pride of your special heritage. They can be a great people, Kal-El, they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you... my only son. ``
[ WP ] You wake up in an inn to the sound of His Grace Robert Baratheon 's caravan arriving in Winterfell . You stumble out into the sunlight and run directly into Lord Eddard Stark . You 're read the first 5 books in the ASOIAF series .	Holy shit, it's a living Stark! Calm down, Bobby. Think over this a second. You know what's going to happen very soon. That should n't have to happen. So the question now, is what to do? What if I just go aheadand try to warn the Starks and Robert? No... Jaime'd hunt my ass down and try to kill me after I tell them about the tower. Hodor. Hodor's an option. Maybe I can convince him to scare the queen ou- No, that would n't work either. That'll just tighten political relations. Shit. Maybe I should just kill Joffery and yell `` Long Live Targaryen!'' No one would see it coming. Not even the guards. They'll just be like `` Wait, who the fuck is this fat, bald bastard?'' Eddard would n't know what to do either. That's all way too much work though. ... You know what? Screw this. All of this. `` Pleasure to meet you Lord Stark. Farewell!'' `` What? Oh.. hmmm. Alright then.'' He seems confused, rightfully so. Now, if I can just get back into that inn fast enough, I can probably slip in to a orgy with Tyrion. That'd be fun. Oh, hey. It's Jaime, looking as smug as ever in his gold armor and stupid, sexy blonde hair. `` Hey Jaime!'' `` Huh? Who are you, farmer?'' `` I bet you fuck your brother when you're tired with your side-hoe.'' `` Excu- wait, what?'' `` You keep doing that with your hand and you'll lose it. Eat all the chicken before the Cleganes do!'' I run off before he can unsheathe his sword and beat me to death with it. Thank god for high school track. ``... Do they poison the river here in the North or something?'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Ser Jaime of House Lannister came across quite a peculiar sight when he arrived at a small brothel on the outskirts of Winterfell. Three young girls followed close behind him, with a little bit of extra weight on them, compliments of the gold. He had expected to merely find his shorter brother in the arms of a some piggish whore. What he found instead, was his Imp of a brother, a fat man, a piggish whore, and two other sumptuous hogs all huddled together in a bed. All of them were very clearly engaged in some naughty-doing. Jaime lowered an eyebrow and raised a finger, as if to say something. `` Lannisters for life!'' I raised my fist, shouting at the knight. `` For life!'' Tyrion repeated besides me. `` Yea!'' `` Yea!'' `` Yeaaaaaa!'' We shouted together, pumping our arms as Jaime pushed a window open and started to run out. The other whores, already paid, immediately joined in on the fun. It was a very strange occurrence for everyone involved. Unbeknownst to me, however, my actions had had a very unexpected effect. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- `` He saw us!'' `` So he did.'' Jaime replied to his sister, his mind befuddled. Nothing that happened to him today made any sense at all. He got accused of having his sister as a `` side-hoe'', saw his brother bedding whores with a strange man, and now there was a child watching him nail his own sister. `` This has to be a nightmare.'' Jaime muttered. `` Jaime, is something the matter? Do something about that child!'' Jaime ignored the woman under him, instead choosing to run out the tower and dive headfirst into the ground. Whether this was a nightmare or life, he could n't stand the sheer insanity of it any longer.
[ WP ] Earth 's atmosphere is toxic to breathe and everyone has to buy portable air tanks . The main character is on their last tank and has no more money .	I glanced down at my watch. What I saw was disconcerting. It was 7:34 pm, and in the upper right corner the display blinked `` 36m.'' Shit. That meant I had thirty-six minutes of oxygen remaining. These days a tank containing oxygen enough for one hour was going for almost fifty bucks. And I was flat broke. I could n't panic or run anywhere, or else my heart rate would spike, then I would use more of my precious oxygen than I could spare, and I would die earlier than 8:10 pm. Time was not on my side, and I had to think quickly. Friends were uncommon to me. Most of my acquaintances would n't be willing to squander a tank or two on a dead man. My family was all either dead, or long-gone to one of the off-planet colonies. 7:37 pm. 33m. Three blocks away there was an oxygen shelter. I knew they could n't spare anything more than a few breaths worth but as long as I could get a few more minutes in, I would be grateful. It would take me about eight minutes to get there. Traffic was light, and not a lot of pedestrians were on the streets after 6 pm. At 7:47 I arrived. A few minutes later than expected, and behind a short line of others that were seeking oxygen, all who had what looked like half-hour tanks on their backs. They all looked quite haggard; a stark contrast when I was in my suit and tie. 23m. It took six long, precious minutes for the line ahead of me to die down. When the woman in front of me was almost done, I took one last deep breath and hit the switch on my oxygen regulator. This would cease the flow of oxygen to my respirator and allow me to use the shelter's line to pump some O^2 into my tank. I had become adept at holding my breath and let the line deliver the coveted gas into my tank for thirty-three seconds before I was cut off. After slipping my tank back on and switching my respirator back on, I looked at my watch again. It read 7:54 pm, and 21m flashed in the corner. I had burned six minutes to gain a scant five. Not a fair trade. Guess I just fucked myself. I leaned back against the wall and put my head in my hands. Not like this. After all you've done, you ca n't go down like this, I thought to myself. The last resort flashed in my mind. I've never been a gambler, but with 20m blinking on your watch, you can die in the gutter or go out big. The local mob operated an underground casino that used oxygen as a currency. It was five blocks in the direction from whence I came. It would take about fifteen minutes to get there, cleared onto the floor, and into a game. I could n't spare that with twenty minutes remaining. At a dead sprint, I got to the business that acted as the casino front in four minutes. The bruiser at the front cleared me, and in I walked. Mafiosos and their lush toy girlfriends were all about in their booths, hooked up to oxygen lines in the walls like they were on phones from the 20th century. They must have had an endless supply, to which I was infinitely envious. I tried to put it out of my mind as I looked at my watch, which read 8m, now in a red font that blinked very rapidly. My sprint here had burned about eight minutes worth of oxygen, plus the wait to get in. I had enough for one hand of blackjack. I was either going to walk out of here a victor, or die at the table. The time was now, and my decision was to be made. I headed over to one of the more full tables. `` Whaddya bet?'' asked the dealer. My watch read 7m. `` Five minutes,'' I said with as much grin and confidence as I could muster. I paid out my five worth of O^2 to receive my hand. Two of Clubs and Ace of hearts. Fuck this is going to take a lot more than two minutes. `` Hit me.'' The dealer dealt me another card as two other players folded. Five of Diamonds. I had either eighteen or eight at my disposal, and the dealer had an exposed Ten of Hearts. 1m. `` Hit me.'' The next three seconds were the longest of my life as she dealt me the fucking card. Three of Spades. My jaw hit the damn floor. `` Stay.'' By now I was the only remaining player, and a loud beep brought me back to reality. My tank was almost empty. 0m blinked on my watch. The dealer flipped her card to reveal the Ace of Spades. I was devastated. How the fuck had this happened? I know the house always wins. I gambled it all and I lost. My watch went from beeping to a constant flatline. I inhaled deeply. Edit: Letters.
[ WP ] Create a pantheon of gods	Fys: The god of physics. The leader of the pantheon of gods and creator of the universe. Gave purpose and meaning to the other gods by creating a universe to display their abilities in. Ke: The god of chemical reactions. Fys created atoms and energy, Ke found a way to put them together to form chemicals. Eme: The god of life and emotion. Sparked the first life in the universe using Ke's `` chemicals'' and created the process of evolution so they'd evolve intelligence and self awareness. Governs over the laws of man and is therefore the most worshipped deity in the pantheon. Jumor: The trickster god. Thought it would be funny to appear to the beings of Eme's creation and pretend to be different deities. Also inadvertently killed all the gods ( or sent them to another reality ) when attempting to replicate Fys and create a pocket universe within this one. Is able to see all of time at any moment. Phil: The god of philosophy and desk job co-workers, and `` child'' of Jumor and Eme. Gifted a race of hairless gorillas the ability to reason. Luc: The god of nothing in particular. Is immortal and has always been apart of the pantheon, but never really claimed any special ability other than being. Is neigh-omnipotent and potentially more powerful than all the other gods, but lacks the motivation needed to do anything with it. So... maybe the god of people on Reddit? Is the best friend of Jumor and helps cause trouble on planets with sapient life by pretending to be the `` evil'' combatting Jumor's `` good'' in religions. Tec: The child of Fys and Ke, the god of technology. Very secluded from the other gods and loves mortals natural curiosity to invent and explore. Oftentimes comes to planets and reincarnates self as their lifeform to invent something for them.
[ WP ] Hell underwent a revolution 50 years ago . The `` Army of the Damned , '' a human faction who fought to end the eternal suffering of hell , won . Now in an act of vengeance and conquest they plan to invade heaven and overthrow God . Their end goal : To create the Divine Empire of Mankind .	`` Then war broke out in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.'' Revelation 12:7-9 -- - The challenge was to get out of the fucking place. Getting into hell was easy, you see. Everyone did it. Well, most people anyways. The lawyers, the politicians, the wolf of wallstreet type salespeople. The overachievers, the power drunk, the abusers, the many who sacrified family and friends and health for money, and fame, and excess. The rotting, burning, stinking place was full to the brim with these types. Hitler and Ivan the Terrible were here, obviously, so were von Braun and Steve Jobs ( surprising to only the youngest here ). Mother Teresa got stuck in a vent for about 3 decades until a few pedophile priests thought it'd buy them brownie points upstairs to help her. It did n't. Nothing did. Burning was the only guarantee in this new life. God did n't care in life, he much less cared once here. No eyes from above entered this place. Which turned out to be our chance. In time, between the fires, we took over. You see, being worthy of burning forever is something most of us understood. Liking it? Being cool with it? Of course not, not anymore than we liked to be told how being good would fix the old world or make us happy. We knew better. You fought for what you wanted, fuck everyone else. That never went away. Brainless beings do not suffer, you need your smarts to understand the pain that awaits you. And then, we used them. Powered by the hate of feeling fucked for so much pain for so little pleasure in life. But what was hell anyways, before the engines of invasion and spirit weapons and soul guns started running off the demon-ran assembly lines. A collection of the brightest and most greedy minds the universe ever knew. It was inevitable. All the suffering and demonic posturing could n't hide it -- as more people came into hell, our numbers grew, while the demons' stayed the same. A hundred for each demon was no challenge. Ten thousand? Yeah, those horned shits would get a workout, but it was no guarantee. A hundred thousand, and the fucking place was ours. The demons were limited intelligences, you see. Excellent at the job they were meant to do, torturing and shit, but not much else. Once overpowered, Sergei Brin's devices ran them to our every whim. Lucifer was something else. He, like humans, could make choices. He chose to rebel, eons ago, and paid for it with exile. Worst of all -- he had been tasked for millenia with babysitting the worst of the race that caused it all. You see, it was his envy of man being created on the Son's image, and not his own, that caused sin to find its first home in his heart. Now, a shadow of his luminous origin, he chose not to fight back. Experience taught him when to know himself defeated, we thought. After the fires, we spent a couple decades organizing. The demons, single-purpose specialists now under our command, were made to work around the clock ( there was no clock really ) on producing the most monstruous machines of invasion to take on heaven. To raze the noisy shithole, kill every winged brown nose up there, drive a sword through the heart of God, bathe in His blood He is so eager to share, and build a new world on top of it. Then, we waited. For millennia, we waited. And finally, the opportunity presented itself. It was all or nothing. Ruling everything that existed in our image and likeness, or waiting for something worse than Hell from our vengeful, hateful Father. The Son of God was ready to make good on a promise delayed for His children on Earth. He was ready for the second coming, and the doors of heaven would be wide open. Lucifer knew his judgment and sentencing came shortly after, so he was hard to convince to stay in the rear while the vanguard, led by Napoleon's army and von Braun's machines, brought down the pearly gates into the clouded grounds. We heard the trumpets and everything was in motion. It was all or nothing. Once the gates opened, we were inside in a matter of seconds, guns out and weapons firing... at nothing, and no one. Then, the gates closed behind us, and the clouds gave way to Sion's walls, rising around us, a glass ceiling descending, and millions angels on top of it with what must have been fire bows in their hands pointed at us. When in terrorized silence, once we had forgotten, we looked around to realize what happened, the only sound was Satan's laughter in the rear, outside the gates, besides the Son.
[ WP ] You are a kindergarten 'assassin ' . You do n't kill people though . You are paid ( in candy , toys , etc ) to get other kids grounded .	Lawrence or `` the grounder'' had already been payed. ( Two Reece's double pacts ) This plan could not fail. Failure meant his career would be over. If his career was over the pinky-promises would mean nothing and his parents would know of his crimes. The hunt was on. Cal was upset Johnson did n't love her back. His mission was to get him grounded. The plan is to get Johnson to spit on the teachers desk. `` Ok Johnson where Mrs. Tinsel comes from its polite to spit'' said Lawrence with a gleam in his eye. `` Where does she come from?'' ask Johnson `` East Dakota.'' `` Where's that?'' `` To the right of west Dakota'' `` Oh'' `` It will impress Callie she's from east Dakota'' `` No she's from East Carolina'' `` Well, I'll just tell her you like-like h-'' `` Shhhhhhh I'll do it''
[ WP ] Write a story about a girl slipping on a banana peel but make it as sad as possible	A girl slipped on a banana peel and fell on a puppy. The puppy yelped and made a mad dash for freedom running over three, four week old kittens. The kittens, never having experienced such violence, bit down on their mother as she was suckling them. The mother cat, having just received three razor sharp kitten bites let out a mighty howl that attracted the puppy's dad who picked up the mother cat and flung her across the room and into the face of the girl still lying on the floor, banana peel hanging from the toe of her shoe. Sad part? Three little kittens had n't finished their dinner. Yeah I could have filled it out, but hey... it's bed time.
[ FF ] 250 words : Someone is watching you	Seriously? Another freaking demon? Goddamn why did Abe have to transfer me to our horror movie universe branch? Come on there has to be one guy in Townswood that knows how to freaking use Excel. Come on demon, this is a little upfront; I haven ’ t even found your innocuous-but-cursed-because-of-murders-you-caused object yet. Seriously you ’ re levitating shit already, that ’ s like second base for hauntings. I should totally microwave some taquitos right now. That ’ ll totally mess with him. But what if he makes black goo come out of them? Okay I ’ ll start a pot of coffee then microwave the taquitos, he ’ ll make the black goo come out of the pot when I ’ m looking at the microwave. Oh and there ’ s Michael yelling “ Papa ”. Premature possesitation? Seriously dude keep it in your evil pants. I did not need this today. Seriously this is the same day the old dude at the gas station warned me about this house. I ’ m still supposed to be in denial. Well might as well check on Michael as if he ’ ll still be there. Wan na know what would be so great right now? If I could get this thing to levitate my futon up the stairs. Yeah I should totally go upstairs, notice Michael isn ’ t there and just say “ The futon! ” all shocked as if they ’ re connected. He ’ ll totally do it. Oh my gosh I should text Josh now and tell him he doesn ’ t need to come over to help me. Wait, Michael was playing with my phone. Well fuck.
[ WP ] Suddenly the dead have risen . The living corpses are walking the streets . But they are not craving our flesh , they are just as scared and confused as we are .	The empty streets of suburbia were as quiet and destitute as a mausoleum. Stray cats pacing back and forth over cracked sidewalks, silently stalking their living mousy dinners. June Taylor kept pace with the neighborhood, strolling home after a long shift selling poorly made shirts to teenagers at the mall. It sure as hell was not a satisfying job, but it provided a steady flow of cash, which kept the family fat in cigarettes, popcorn and the newest horror films. It was n't the most exciting of lives, but it was all they knew. June had moved from out east a few years back, seeking solace of the big city in a small township of Reichter, Colorado. While never saying so out loud, it was assumed that the legalization of cannabis had aided in the decision of homebase, -- -- aahhhhh, got ta go
[ WP ] Litigation has gotten so prevalent that everyday conversations are made in legal-speak . Make the mundane impossibly mired in legal-eze . I take no responsibility for your response to this prompt .	Ah, a random fixed-odds betting terminal, a machine `` designed or adapted for use by individuals to gamble'' ( s.235 Gambling Act 2005 ); let me avail myself of its services. Inserts £10. Proceeds to win slightly more. `` Sir.'' `` Sir!'' Yes? How can I help you, random individual sporting an employee ’ s uniform with a particular letter conspicuously emblazoned on your chest? `` I want you to finish up what you are doing and leave.'' Why, my good man? `` You were engaged in theft, subject to s.1 Theft Act 1968, as you…'' You what, mate? Is that an imputation of criminal liability? `` …permanently deprived property, which includes money under s.4 ( 1 ) Theft Act 1968, belonging to my less-than-generous employer, with the intention of permanently depriving him or her of it.'' Why, yes, I was; but there is the mens rea element…. `` I will address that in seriatim.'' Go on… `` Well, first, you are a wrong'un. Second…'' I am a `` wrong'un''? Is it because I am… `` No, sir. This is not an instance of racial hatred, defined under s.17 Public Order Act 1986 as… ” I did not finish…. Wait! `` I mean, erm, well, simply put, your demeanour was redolent of an individual who, just last week, made a false representation that he was a paying customer—he had in his possession a'paying customer' placard—before eventuating, dishonestly I might add, a gain for himself and exposing a business to a loss by running out after taking a crowbar to the machine.'' A predicament, I am sure. If, ex hypothesi, I was that individual then what, pray tell, am I doing back here? `` I am not religious, sir. As for your being back here, that might signify recrudescence of criminal intention.'' That presupposes that there was criminal intention. Prima facie, your assertions do not stand up to scrutiny. For one, a passing resemblance at best militates in favour of my being the aforesaid; but there are vitiating factors. `` Vitiating factors? There will be no assoiling in my makeshift courtroom!'' Justice must be seen to be done. At any rate, do you see a crowbar? `` That certainly does not negative my assertion, which I do not intend to have any legal effect, that, mutatis mutandis ( qua crowbar ), you exhibit the same traits as the aforementioned.'' There is also the issue of propinquity. I was in another country last week. Well, I was contemporaneously engaging in fraud over there, but that is neither here nor there, pardon the pun. `` Pardons are outside my remit. I could remit the issue of pardoning to my superior, however.'' You have a superior? `` Well, I had a superior. I just murdered him. Metaphorically. I mean, yes, he is dead, and there was malice aforethought; but I shall endeavour to bring him back to life eventually. For the time being, I have arrogated to myself the right to rule over these premises. You are free to go.'' Erm, I was unaware that there was anything stopping me. Before I do, can I cash in my ticket? `` No.'' Now you are committing theft! Furthermore, there has been a breach of contract as my putting in the money would constitute an acceptance to the machine ’ s display of an offer, with consideration being provided by the way of…. `` Oi, oi, saveloy!'' You silly sausage. We are now back to where we started.
[ WP ] As people scream and fires rage around me , I think to myself , `` what a wonderful world . ''	It's the smell that just gets to me first. The tangy scent of sweat and unwashed clothes, the acrid reek of smoke. But that's what I'm here for. I'm here for the sweat, the blood, and the tears. The screams, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, the unbridled release of humanity's most primal feelings. Orange-red flames casting light make the people below look like inhabitants of Hell, shadows casting grotesque demons against walls and the ground. Flashes of steel mingle with splashes of red, and above all else, the ivory of teeth as lips part in pained cries. Howls of pain turn into screams of defiant rage as I thrust my hand into the sky. More fires blossom above me, and I let my lips part to show my jagged teeth. Tasting sweat and blood, I raised my head. My calloused hand slammed back down against my faithful guitar, and I leaned in to the microphone to scream the chorus. Here, among screams and fire, sweat and blood, I can let it all out. What a wonderful world.
[ WP ] The internal monologue of someone debating whether or not they should buy the plane ticket moments before they have to decide .	I do n't know if this is what I want. I know, I have a loving family and friends here, it's not like I'm trying to run away. My dad's not an alcoholic, my mom's not narcissistic, my best friend is n't fucking my girlfriend. But I'm... I'm running away, are n't I? Three things in life are wholly based on running: writing, teaching, traveling. What am I exactly supposed to accomplish with this? To simply cross off some imaginary thing on my bucket list? This is potentially stupid. So it's supposed to be fun right? If I doubt it, is it still fun? Or even what I want? Fuck. OK, I love this place. I've always wanted to go here, ideally with my friends. It's just too bad everyone's anchored with a job and girlfriends now, so it'll have to be alone. I want to really experience this culture and let it slap me in the face. I want to be insignificant in the grand scheme of things, I just do n't want another weekend of the same fucking restaurant and the same TV show with the same people. Oh god, do I hate how complacent my life is? If there's no bullshit or drama, does that make my life not interesting enough to deal with? Why am I asking for more challenges? No, no, I am getting away. I'm not running away, but I am taking a break from the monotony of my ~~happy~~ pleasant life. Some people never take the plunge, but I know the ones I love will always be there when I return. It'll just be like unpausing my life there when I get back. Yea. I need to go.
[ WP ] On the brink of extinction , they all turned to the madman for answers .	I spent years earning my degrees at several prestigious schools around the entire world, with even more of those years spent at the Academy trying to get funding for my research, then years more being the laughing stock of the entire staff at Mountain Industries, desperately grabbing at any money I could. And then even more years left in `` solitary laboratory'' due to `` a lab accident that could have clearly been foreseen.'' Foreseen!? Okay, I guess a lab fire and several different, and might I add minor, lab explosions could be seen as foreseen. But I also can see why they would want me in a glorified exiled. A few people died. They called me the `` mad scientist who did n't care for human life.'' It's not that I did n't care, but I had more important things than human lives in that lab. I had experiments that would alter the course of history. The most important of which were my test monkeys, but that was all part of the experiment. And the experiment was not successful. Sad to say, every single monkey died that day. So I got pushed into a solitary work space, allowed one assistant for one hour each day. Most of the time, I did n't even bother, they would usually hinder me with unwanted questions or warnings of procedure and regulation. In all honestly, I liked working alone and the assistants they sent were n't much better than the mice I had. Working alone was nice. It allowed me to focus solely on my research, to learn what no one else in the world was learning and to do it without a single person asking questions. To do it, with funds and resources. To do my life's work. In a peaceful bliss. And I was used to it. I did it in University, where I graduated top of my class and received four different diplomas by year six. I did it at the Academy, where my genius was questioned and disregarded and where funding came to a grinding halt. That's why I came to Mountain Industries after all. '' We're here to help you make the climb. `` I'm getting giddy just thinking about it all! Mountain Industries was my saving grace! After years of torment, they allowed my genius to not only survive, but to flourish! They gave me resources at first, and after seeing some of my research make breakthroughs, provided more money. By my fifth year here, I had all the money in the world. By my tenth, I was running whole divisions. Still not a people person after that accident though. I just delegate projects for my research mostly. Then came the energy crisis. Entire cities shutdown, people did n't have power for weeks, some months, a few years. This is actually where I first became infamous, where people first started using the word `` mad man.'' All I said was we kill off a few cities reactors and use them to power the bigger things in life. Some people died. People were mad. Not thinking about the long term. Not like me. And then the food shortages. The rationing. Oh wow, that's a whole other story. Riots in the streets, farms burned up within days. Surprisingly, I had nothing to do with this, but still got hit with some blame. Part of being a figurehead of MI, I suppose. And then the resource wars, followed by a nuclear fallout, and now humanity is teetering on it's very existence. Most people blame Mountain Industries for the energy crisis, which led to the food shortages, which led to the riots, which led to, well, nuclear fallout. A lot of people died for that one. And again the blame fell on Mountain Industries. But they allowed me to do what I wanted to do most. Learn. And now, with humanity on the short journey to humanity, all my years of learning are paying off. They're lining up by the hundreds to get on one of the transport ships I designed, and even more are lining up for the food I helped cultivate. They finally understand now. At least, I think they do. You see, humanity, we're just pieces. Pieces in a long game. And we all are making this long climb to the top. The top of human evolution. Humanity's apex, to say it in simple terms. Most of us, actually most of you try to make the climb alone. Or with a few loved ones. You think you can climb to the very top and look down and laugh, maybe throw a few avalanches at the rest of them. But us, Mountain Industries, we make the climb together. We, all of humanity, are moving to the top. Slowly, steadily, leg by leg, person by person, truckload by truckload. Over the years, my research has taken us so far up the mountain you ca n't see the bottom anymore. And now, now they can all see the top! They are all sitting there with me! They are all watching us move to the top! Loading into transport ships, eating food they have n't tasted in years, watching my research become a reality. Watching my reality save the human race. We can do it, we can make it back from the brink of extinction. We can make the climb! ____________________________________________________________ I had a lot of fun with this prompt. I hope I got the insanity feeling across like I intended, and if anyone has any comments or feedback, I would love to hear. Than k you!
[ WP ] A Jedi and a Sith fall in love , without knowing of the other 's affiliation .	& nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hachi's hands were cold, but Aihal did n't care. He had denied himself this moment ever since they met and now that he had given in he would take everything that came his way. They moved a little closer so that their breasts and bellies touched. Aihal shuddered. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I take it you are not used to being touched,'' said Hachi. Aihal could feel the smirk against his cheek. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I can't—I shouldn't—'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' You did.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; They went on kissing. To Hachi's lips Aihal's face was smooth and full with a hint of prickliness where he had taken to shaving recently. To Aihal's lips Hachi's face was soft and specked with grit where dirty hands had rubbed. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I know our feelings are forbidden here,'' Hachi breathed in his ear, `` but the galaxy is vast. So vast. We could live anywhere we want.'' Aihal's fevered mind raced through the dozens of planets he had visited as he considered the proposition. There are places where they would not be conspicuous, he thought, but he knew he could not simply uproot and leave. He was bound to the Order. To a master from which he now hid. To a Code that which he was now transgressing. He reluctantly pushed back. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Aihal looked down. `` It's not that,'' he replied, `` I ca n't abandon my post. Or my master.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' You are in bondage?'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I have given my life—to the Temple.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' To the Jedi.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Yes.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Aihal would n't bring his head up. Most knew that Jedi were chaste, and dread welled up inside Aihal at the thought that he may had just broken his first, and perhaps last heart. Silence reigned in the gulf. After a long while a finger crossed over, cold but tender, and caught the padawan's chin. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' You are in training, yes?'' said Hachi. The question came innocently, as if Hachi knew all along, or did n't care he was a Jedi. Aihal was taken by surprise. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I—I should be in training,'' he replied. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Then take this as a lesson,'' returned Hachi. Aihal found himself seeing into eyes like golden pools. He never knew what color Hachi's eyes were. He had never been this close before. He could feel something change between them. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I know what it is like for you Jedi. Taken as babes from your home worlds. Struck with dogma that denies our emotional nature. I know your pain, for I too am learned in the ways of The Force.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Aihal could feel a surging between them now. The Force acting on their bond. He reached out to Hachi and when he touched again it felt like lightning coursing into his hands. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I have never felt this before,'' said Aihal. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' There are many sides to the force.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Aihal found himself breathing rather hard. His mind began to swim with so many questions. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Are you Jedi, too?'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Not exactly.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Hachi's hands found themselves round his waist and again they closed the gap between them. Caught in the roiling energy that seemed to now crackle. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Come with me. Just for a little while. I'll show you. I'll show you that you can love and be one with the Force.'' Hachi's voice was nearly inaudible, a rough whisper. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Aihal knew what Hachi was saying was an even greater betrayal to the Temple. To take on the teachings of another. But he knew he could n't deny what he felt for him. The Jedi Code could not help. He swallowed hard. Opened his mouth. & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' I could try.'' & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' There is no try.''
[ WP ] In a world where conflict is resolved through games , countries react differently . Some train elite football players or chess prodigies . You are a Gamemaster , a mercenary hired out to play .	“ You ’ re serious? ” From across the table, he answers my incredulous stare with a nod. Of course he is serious. The president does not make house calls for shits and giggles. “ But it ’ s Korea, ” I state, shaking my head. Nobody has challenged Korea since it absorbed China in 2035. The situation must be far more dire than the media have let on. “ Their demands are too much this time. To accept them would be tantamount to relinquishing sovereignty. We must try. ” I nod slowly. Finally, “ Will it be StarCraft V or Brood War? ” “ For a matter of this importance, it can only be Brood War. ” A few moments pass. “ I ’ ll do it then, but on one condition. ” “ Name it. ” “ I want a rematch. With MC. That smug bastard needs to know who the real champion is. ” His eyes narrow. “ I am sure you are aware that he is also retired. ” “ He ’ s Korean. Work it into the negotiations. Can ’ t cost me more than a 50 mineral disadvantage. ” The president sighs, but also stands and extends his hand. “ Very well; it will be done. America is in your debt. ” I shake his hand, smiling now. The Grack is back, baby. The Grack is back.
[ WP ] One day autocorrect starts correcting for truth , not spelling .	`` Where were you at 10:30pm last Sunday Mr. Winters?'' Asked Detective Carter. There were three men in the interrogation room. Two detectives sitting across from one handcuffed suspect. Exactly like you see in movies. One way glass, gray walls, metal table. The works. The only thing out of place was the fact that one smartly dressed detective was staring intently at his smartphone. When he asked the question he didn ’ t look up from his phone. He also did n't look up when Fred Winters replied. “ I ’ ve said this a dozen times before. I was at my office, catching up on some work.'' Detective Carter began texting, while his partner, Detective Sanchez, drank deeply from a mug that smelled faintly of whiskey. Carter typed a single sentence: `` Fred Winters is telling the truth.'' The detective hit send. And the second he did a window popped up saying: `` Did you mean, ‘ Fred Winters is lying?''' the detective finally looked up at the angry man sitting across from him. `` No you were n't'' he said. Smiling `` I'm going to ask you again, and if you lie... again, I will make sure you regret it.'' Detective Sanchez cracked his knuckles, but otherwise remained silent. At this point, Winters began to panic. Then Detective Carter spoke again. `` How about I ask you a different question? Who killed your wife?'' Winters regained his composure. These men obviously had no evidence. They were grasping at straws. `` I. Do n't. Know.'' he replied, slowly and calmly. `` Now if there is nothing more I would like to leave now.'' Detective Carter's smile never wavered as he replied, `` Of course Mr. Winters, I just need you to do one thing for me.'' The detective slid his phone across the table. `` Type it.'' `` What?'' `` That you did n't kill your wife. In one complete sentence please.'' `` This is absurd.'' `` Maybe, but I insist.'' Fred Winters picked up the phone, confused and annoyed, but compliant all the same. As he began typing Detective Carter stood up and walked behind Winters, leaning down so their faces were next to each other, watching the screen. Detective Sanchez appeared to have fallen asleep. Winters typed: `` I did not kill my wife.'' As Winters finished the last word, the auto-correct changed the sentence. “ I did kill my wife. ” Winters dropped the phone in absolute shock. Detective Carter said nothing. He simply leaned to pick up his phone, and sat back down. “ Where is the murder weapon Mr. Winters? ” asked the detective, once again not looking up. “ I DIDN ’ T TOUCH HER DAMNIT! ” By now Fred Winters was just as angry as he was afraid. Neither detective seemed to care much. Carter simply typed on his phone. “ There is no murder Weapon. ” The text once again, automatically changed to: “ There is a murder weapon. ” Carter deleted the sentence and started again. “ The weapon is in the Winter ’ s house. ” The last word automatically changed. The text now read, “ The weapon is in the Winter ’ s garage. ” The whole time the detective had been typing. Fred Winters had been shouting and cussing at the two men. Detective Carter raised a hand to silence the man, and spoke very softly, “ Do you usually keep bloody knives in your garage Winters? ” The suspect was silent. Fear was apparent in his eyes. “ I-I-I don ’ t know what you are talking about. ” He stammered. Detective Carter once again began typing. He wrote: “ Fred Winters will confess in the next 7 minutes. ” This time the sentence did not change. Both detectives saw this and both smiled. Detective Sanchez, who had been silent up until this point leaned forward and said, “ Oh I think you do. And I also think you have 6 minutes and 47 seconds to prove me right. ”
[ WP ] In the dangerous world of Software Engineering a knife is always useful , what with all those fights to the death on a regular basis .	`` How long do we have with the client?'' I asked. `` Maybe five minutes, tops, before the Intel guys get here,'' replied my boss. `` Shit - er, sorry.'' I got my wallet out and put a dollar in the office swear jar. `` We can try to keep them at bay, Steve, but if the rumors about their alliance with Expedia are to be believed, they'll have a massive fighting force. We could be in for a multi-day siege.'' I mulled this information over. `` We could call in Tim from QUALCOMM.'' My boss abruptly got out of his chair, his face turning tomato red. `` For fuck's sake - excuse me.'' My boss leaned over and deposited a dollar into the swear jar. `` Steve, he's not to be trusted. He's a monster in the body of a frail, nerdy, software engineer! He's got a death list longer than a fresh roll of toilet paper!'' `` Will all due respect, sir, this is the most important client we've ever had. If what you're saying is true, we'll need all the help we can get.'' Just then, my boss's secretary Karen walked in. `` The client is here. Also, I swore at Dave from accounting.'' She deposited a dollar in the swear jar and left. `` Well, Steve, whatever is going to happen is going to happen soon. Get out there and woo the client. If anyone can do it, it's you.'' `` I wo n't disappoint you, sir.'' I gulped. I walked down to the conference room. There were four people in there. Karen was at the door to open it for me. At the far end of the table, two men were seated. Bill Gates and his lawyer. A third man paced behind them. An extremely beefy guy with an assault rifle - some kind of personal security. `` Mr. Gates, this is our best software engineer, Steven Daniels. Steven, this is Mr. Gates, Mr. Peterson, and...'' She stared blankly at the guard. `` Sergey Gagaran,'' he said, with a thick Russian accent. Mr. Gates was n't fucking around. `` It's great to meet you, Mr. Gates, Mr. Peterson, Mr. Gagaran.'' I shook each of their hands. Gates and Peterson's to be polite, and Gagaran's out of fear. I sat down. `` What my company is offering is the operating system of the future.'' `` In this world,'' Gates replied, `` the future is only a few months. How can you guarantee this system wo n't be outdated by the end of the year?'' `` Well, because it's the first system of its kind. It's intelligent.'' His eyes widened, but he said nothing. Peterson seemed more skeptical. `` Intelligent? What is that supposed to mean?'' `` It is able to adapt to other operating systems. If another system does indeed come along that is better than ours is in its current state, it will attempt to alter itself to include the features of the other system. If it ca n't, it will notify us, and we can alter it manually, but we have n't run into that issue in testing.'' `` That certainly is an incredible system. I'd like to buy it.'' Peterson looked in shock at Gates. `` Surely, you ca n't be serious? I mean, if it works, I'm all for it, but we have n't even seen it in action!'' `` I am serious. And do n't call me Shirley.'' I would have laughed, but that's when I started to hear the sounds of battle in the hallway. Intel was closing in. `` We do n't have time to see it in action if we want to escape with our lives. I trust this man. Sergey, clear the hallway. I assume you carry a weapon on you, Daniels?'' I nodded, and pulled out my katana. `` If you would be so kind, please assist Sergey in any way you can.'' I kicked the door down. The hallway was absolute chaos. Bodies were strewn everywhere, but it looked like my people had succeeded for the time being. They were leading the enemy to the cafeteria. Intel obviously had no idea where the conference room was. Sergey and I cut down any stragglers and led Peterson and Gates to the elevator. `` I'll accompany you to your car, gentlemen. It would n't be polite of me to leave you like this. There's probably an assault team in the lobby.'' `` Thank you, that would be greatly appreciated.'' We entered the elevator and began the slow descent from floor 50 to the lobby. When the doors opened, I saw that I was wrong about the assault team. It was worse than an assault team. It was Tim. `` Fuck!'' I shouted. I made a mental note to deposit a dollar in the swear jar, if I survived. `` Hello Steven. Long time, no see.'' `` Leave now, Tim. My company will pay you twice whatever Intel is paying you.'' He laughed maniacally. `` I have an inside man in accounting. You do n't have the funds to pay me half what an Intel executive shits out after dinner!'' I sighed. `` Sergey, please take us to the car. Steven, I'm sorry if you do n't make it out of this. I assure you, however, that we will buy your software regardless of whoever emerges the victor here.'' `` Thank you, Mr. Gates. It was an honor to meet you.'' With that, Sergey took a small device off of his belt, and threw it at the wall. It exploded, and he led Gates and Peterson to an armored convoy outside. I turned back to Tim. `` It's a shame that your company wo n't even exist after today, Steven. Gates is gon na have to buy it from Intel. How sad. Of course, you wo n't even live long enough to feel the disappointment.'' `` Cut the shit, Tim.'' There goes another dollar. `` Let's just get this over with.'' We sprinted towards each other at lightning speed. Our swords clashed. Someone on one of the upper floors fell out of a window, screaming all the way down to the lobby. We were too focused to even care. It felt like we were fighting for hours. Our swords were almost broken by the end of it. Stroke after stroke, he expertly parried every attempt I made to get a hit on him. At some point, he gained the upper hand. I lost my footing and fell to the floor. `` Consider this your pink slip, motherfucker.'' Tim raised his sword and began to bring it down on me. `` Fuck off, Tim.'' I heard my boss's voice, followed by a gunshot. Tim looked shocked for a moment, and then looked down at his now blood-soaked shirt. `` Fuck.'' He fell over next to me, dead. My boss came over and picked me up off the floor. `` You did good, Steven. We won because of you.'' `` Thank you, sir,'' I replied. `` But do n't forget to put a dollar in the swear jar. You told Tim to F-off.'' `` Oh. Oops. Well, good job anyway.'' `` Of course, thank you sir. It was a pretty epic line, for what it's worth.'' He nodded. `` It was pretty epic. Let's get back to work. We have software to develop.''
[ WP ] While staring into the woods , the character says , `` They 're staring at us again . ''	Dr. Ian Marcus had just finished writing out his findings of the day and was looking forward to some sleep. Today was his fifth night in the small Colombian village, not counting the three days it took him to get there. He had been spending his time studying the Carabya tribe, learning about their customs and interacting with them. Just three outsiders before him had been to the village, and the only remaining one had warned him not to go. He laid staring at the ceiling of his tent, pondering the mans words. Up to this point, he had no problems with the Carabyan people, except being completely ignored by most of them. Still, he could n't get the concerned tone of the mans voice out of his head. In the distance, he heard a deep rumble, as if a tired chunk of mountain decided to finally let go and descend to a new eternity. He had heard it twice in his time there, and while he did n't know what it was, he was not as frightened by it as the first time it stole his sleep. He was well on his way to a deep slumber when an awful noise filled his room. He shot up in a panic and threw his hands to his ears as the sound bombarded him. The flame outside flickered and his room shook. It continued for a few long moments, then the doctor was able to regain his composure and get to the door. Outside, the villagers had begun to gather and witness what was going on. The trees were shaking so hard, that the branches were crashing to the ground. Chaos took over and then, as quickly as it had begun, there was silence. After a few moments, some murmurs began among the people. Marcus made his way over to Nomak, the only person in the village who spoke any English. `` What's going on?'' He asked, `` What was that?'' Nomak started to say something, but his focus was stolen by a tall man, who had his hand in the air. He was a statue staring out in to the darkness between the now barren trees. The tension was becoming increasingly painful when the tall mans whisper cut through the stillness. It was barely audible, yet everyone around Marcus knew exactly what was said. Their stances became cautious and defensive, while their eyes moved between one another only to return to the trees. No one made a sound. Marcus asked Nomak what the tall man said, and Nomak remained still. He was thinking very hard, not sure of what to say, or if he should say anything at all. Staring right through the doctor, Nomak took a slow, deep breath and in the quietest voice he could muster, he muttered `` They're staring at us again.''
[ WP ] Convicted criminals can choose to shorten their sentence . The only catch is the more it is shortened , the worse the conditions are where they are held . Describe a one night stay .	`` You said an hour'' `` That is correct, you could be a free man in just 60 minutes'' a synthetic voice chirped. `` It's been way longer than that, why am I still fucking here?'' `` You have n't performed the correct sequence of motions yet'' replied the machine. `` Sequence of what?'' `` Sequence 4952364758643568652110 consists of a series of random motions and vocalisations designed to take one hour to perform, you will be informed when you correctly perform the next step in the sequence. Please proceed with the sequence'' `` Fuck that, I changed my mind, put me back in my cell'' `` That is not the first step of the sequence''
[ WP ] Prove the saying `` alcohol , because no good story started with a salad '' wrong .	Nancy taught me that the best salads are n't served in a bowl or plate. She lived next door when I was a child, an elderly widow who lived alone but who had the most wonderful vegetable garden in her back yard. She was almost always out there in the late afternoons, pulling weeds, watering, and harvesting. My sister and I were always welcome, even though our Mother worried we bothered her. She taught me how to eat a tomato without utensils, how to kill a dandelion for good, and what part of rhubarb was safe to eat. And of course, that eating a little dirt never hurt anyone. We mostly ate right off the plants, so she also had this little pot of honey dijon dressing that we could dip our pickings into - green beans or broccoli or, once, jalapeno peppers, just to see what the combination tasted like. There's something about eating vegetables so fresh that they do n't even know they're no longer rooted to the ground that has ruined those bags of spinach at the store for me. The best thing I loved about Nancy was that she was that she always looked at her plants when she talked to me. She was n't ignoring me, she was talking to me constantly - if it was n't about the gardening, it was one of her many stories about her late husband or her sister, usually the point being `` how much things have changed''. She did n't pretend there was nothing wrong with my face, or force me to see the discomfort as she adapted to it. My face was n't the focus, it was n't important, her beautiful garden and our work in it was. She was old-school, and harsh, and the severity was refreshing. She died in the winter when I was about eleven. It was sudden, no warning, heart failure in her sleep - she never even knew she was no longer rooted to the ground.
[ WP ] One man stands at a bridge , and faces an army .	King Duncan: `` We are only a few leagues from the orc camp. By this time tomorrow we can set up a siege and-'' Squire: `` My Liege'' King Duncan: `` What is it boy?''. Squire: `` There is a man on the bridge who refuses to move'' King Duncan: `` What?!''. Kind Duncan rides to the front of his army to see a skinny man holding up his hands and talking to the Chosen Knights of King Duncan King Duncan: `` What is the meaning of this!?'' Man: `` Look. You guys ca n't cross here''. King Duncan: `` And who are you to say that?'' Man: `` Dave. I work for the town of-'' King Duncan: `` I am King Duncan. The one chosen by God to destroy the orc encampment with great malice!''. Dave: `` Oh. Well uh....I'm Dave the one chosen by the town of Ivan as it's chief engineer... with great understanding of how gravity works. And I'm telling you right now, you cross this bridge, those armored horses will end your trip at the bottom of the ravine''. King Duncan: `` It looks plenty stable to me'' Dave: `` Yeah the guy who built it was a pompous bastard who cared more about aesthetics than practicality. Look. You can cross if you want. Frankly if you take the whole thing down it makes my job a hell of alot easier''. King Duncan: `` How do I know your words ring true?'' Dave: `` Look pal if I was playing make believe I like to think I'd do better than'Dave the engineer'''. King Duncan: ``'Pal'? BE CAREFUL WHO YOU-!'' Dave: `` NO! I still have to check out a well on the other side of town and the black smiths quarters. And if I have to keep stopping every king chosen by God, I'm not gon na have the time to grab a few horns of ale before going back to my miserable fucking wife and two dumbass kids. You want to cross the bridge. By all fucking means pal''. Dave motions towards the bridge and King Duncan thinks for a moment. Finally Dave lets out a sigh and rubs his face Dave: `` Look. I'm just having a rough week. If you go down a few miles there's another bridge that should hold the weight. From there you can go where ever''. King Duncan: `` I... Thank you for the warning kind sir''. King Duncan motions to his men and they all begin to go back down the road they came from. Dave turns and crosses back over the bridge to where the Orc Chief is waiting Dave: `` And that my friend is how one man stops an army'' Orc Chief: Hands Dave a bag of gold `` That was impressive. And the other bridge WILL collapse?'' Dave: `` Yep. Anyway I'll catch you later'' Orc Chief: `` Say'Hi' to Susan for me''. Dave: `` Will do''.
[ TT ] Whenever he looked in a mirror , his reflection was accompanied by dozens of ghosts .	The alarm goes off. 5am. He lays in bed, eyes dry, staring at the white ceiling, listening to the hum of the alarm's vibration against his bedside table. He waits until he hears the neighbour stir on the other side of the wall to reach over and stop the noise. His feet slowly touch the ground and he realises that at some point the blanket must have fallen off the bed. That's good. That means he slept last night. Hopefully. Somehow he manages to make it to the bathroom, his gaze always following his feet. The cold tiles are a welcome sensation and so he slows his pace, inhaling and exhaling at each step. Eventually he reaches the sink and sighs. His hand reaches for his toothbrush, and then the toothpaste, which is nearing its end. The sound of the tip of the tube against the brush is comforting, and as a result he always applies too much toothpaste. He places the brush under the tap and closes his eyes, listening to the sound of water racing down the sink and the feel of the temperature increasing. Taking a deep breath, he raises the toothbrush to his mouth, looks up, and opens his eyes. Four children are running around the bathroom silently, but he can hear their laughter from the three boys and the shouts from the girl trying to tell the boys to stop chasing her, yet he can tell that they are all having fun from her wide grin. A pregnant woman is sitting on the toilet, smiling at the children running around what no longer feels like a small bathroom for one, but a large playground. An young couple is sitting in the bath tub, clearly on their honeymoon period, while an elderly couple whisper in each other's ears and laugh while pointing at the younger. What he assumes are the children's parents are busy in conversation in the corner of the room, always keeping at least one eye on their little ones. The toothbrush enters his mouth and he begins to brush, feeling the dirt gradually scrape off his teeth. He tries to concentrate on the foam that is slowly building in his mouth but he ca n't get the silent laughter out of his mind. He even wants to smile with everyone. He spots a man enter the bathroom behind his reflection, wearing a large jacket, incredibly unusual for a day as warm as this. The new arrival's face is stern as he looks around at the people around the room, and he spits at the sight of the intertwined couple. He bends down to the sink to spit the excess foam and takes another deep breath before rising to continue brushing. There is no laughter anymore. The new man is gone, the white tiles of the bathroom stained with red, with what looks like mince scattered on the walls and even the ceiling. Two of the children are gone too, as is the old man and the pregnant woman. A baby is pulling its deformed legs across the ground, as if trying to reach him and begins to wail. The young girl is missing half her head but the other half still hold the wide grin she had earlier. She just stands, grinning at him. The remaining boy is hidden behind the bloody corpses of the parents, fear in his eyes as he peaks over the intestines that may have belonged to his father. No, not just fear, but blame too. The old woman is crouched over the body of her husband, tears flowing down her eyes as one hand clutches her heart desperately and another points a finger at him, shouting what he can only assume are curse words. The young couple are still embraced, though no longer moving with the passion they had had before. He sees their eyes open and the irises shoot glares at him. He drops his toothbrush, hearing the brush roll on the tiles, and closes his eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. His heart feels as if were going to explode. As if it should have. The coat was too big for summer. He turns around to walk back to the bedroom, this time not wanting to take in the feel of the cold tiles against his bare feet. He swallows the toothpaste that was in his mouth, for a brief moment removing the taste of blood. The bed welcomes him as he crawls in and tucks his knees into his chest so he can hold something. His ear begins ringing, and as it dies down he hears shouts from his commanding officer and the wailing of the old woman. His eyes are shut tight, but even that does not stop the tears.
[ WP ] Each American eats 46 slices of pizza per year . This is not an average , it 's a requirement .	``... we mutually pledge each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.'' As Thomas Jefferson finished writing the document, everyone around him gave him and each other a round of applause filled with pride and dignity. Thomas Jefferson himself stood up and addressed everyone in the room. `` I believe this is a powerful statement, a true... declaration of independence.'' As he said this, tears began to well up in the eyes of everyone in the room. `` W-wait, I have a s-suggestions, ideas, suggestions,'' said a drunken man in the back of the room. `` Oh... god,'' sighed Thomas. This drunk man was his younger brother, Tyler Jefferson. `` Thomas, what the hell is your brother doing here?'' said Benjamin Franklin. Thomas tried to calm Franklin down. `` Relax Ben, I'm sorry everyone, it's just that --'' Tyler interrupted him. `` It's just that, firrrrrrrrrst of all, I have something to add to the lllisty list list, big bromas. Bromas Jefferson, they should call you,'' said Tyler as he sloppily played tic tac toe with himself on his stomach. Thomas rubbed his eyes in frustration. `` Look, Tyler, lem me talk to these guys for a sec, and then we'll get to your suggestions, okay?'' `` You gots it, bro,'' said Tyler as he gave Thomas a thumbs up, a wink, and then another thumbs up. As Tyler was still giving thumbs ups and winks to absolutely no one, Thomas gathered everyone at the other end of the room. `` Okay guys, I'm sorry, but listen... Tyler is n't working and his girlfriend just left him. And he thinks I'm the favorite in the family. Can we please just... give him this?'' They all looked wearily at each other, but eventually nodded and agreed. Thomas walked up to Tyler. `` Alright Tyler, we'll hear you out. I'm sure your additions to our declaration will be graceful and dignified --'' `` 47 pizza slices.'' ``... okay, and what does that mean, Tyler?'' `` Everyone has to eat some 47 pizza slices every, every yearrraannnnd it's required and it's pizzas, 47 pizza slices,'' said Tyler as he stared at his hand for no particular reason. Thomas stared at Tyler. Then, he turned to everyone else in the room. Thomas walked over to the declaration of independence, grabbed a quill and dipped it in ink. `` So you said 47, right?'' asked Thomas. Benjamin Franklin walked over to Thomas in an aggressive manner. `` You ca n't be fucking serious, Tom.'' `` What? We all agreed to --'' John Adams walked over to Thomas. `` Listen, Thomas, I know your brother is going through a hard time, but --'' `` Oh c'mon, John. How much pizza do you eat a year? WAY more than 47 slices.'' `` That is n't the point!'' yelled Benjamin Franklin. `` Look at your fucking disgrace of a brother! He fucks up everything he touches!'' Thomas looked down at the declaration, containing his urge to argue. `` Time and time again, he comes into your life and does everything he can to FUCK everything up. He's a useless piece of garbage and --'' Suddenly, the sound of the door shutting caught everyone's attention. Tyler had left. `` Good job, Ben,'' said John Adams. `` He deserved it,'' said Benjamin Franklin. Thomas gave Benjamin a look of complete disdain before chasing after his brother. Outside, Thomas found Tyler sitting against a barrel. `` Tyler, everyone knows Ben can be a loose cannon. Let's just go back inside and sign this thing.'' `` You do n't need to do the 47 pizza slices thing.'' Thomas stared at Tyler. `` I'm just.... I wish I had a thing, Tom. Like, your thing is... being Thomas Jefferson. Kids will want to be you someday. No kid is ever gon na want to be Tyler Jefferson.'' `` Do you know why I'm the favorite in the family, Tyler?'' Tyler shook his head. `` It's because I chose a path that was n't mine. I'm just sort of doing what I thought people wanted me to do. And yes, it's led to great things... but I wish I'd done what I wanted. And you... you just always decided to be you. And I think that's all you'll ever really need.'' Tyler looked at his brother and nodded. `` Thank you, Thomas.'' Thomas helped him up off the ground. As they entered the room again, they noticed Benjamin Franklin was gone. `` We've compromised. We will hear Tyler out, under the condition that his name is not listed in the document and is erased from all future accounts of American history.'' `` Absolutely not, that's ridiculous,'' said Thomas. But Tyler put his hand on his brother's shoulder. `` Tom, it's okay.'' `` But why?'' `` Because I've got what I needed today.'' Thomas smiled and nodded. `` Listen Tyler, ANY time you have any suggestions for us and the future of our country, just speak your mind!'' `` You got it, Thomas.'' `` Got any right now?'' `` Hmmm.... I think so!'' `` Well, what is it?'' `` I think it should be 46 instead of 47!'' `` That's a great -- wait, Tyler...'' `` What?'' Thomas looked at his brother. `` That's... that's a fine idea.''
[ WP ] The history / lore of a terraformed moon .	Eshu. A tiny moon named for a trickster god because of it's eccentric orbit around the gas giant Olodumare. It's a desert moon, the kind of rock no one would bother with, usually. Except for the two factors. 1. Oludumare passes near a wormhole to Tau Ceti on its orbit, which of course is colonized. 2. Eshu is the perfect size that ships can land and take off with minimal fuel cost, but it is spinning fast enough to produce artificial gravity. In its early history, it was a hide out for criminals and political dissidents. But once the inner planet of Alye was terraformed and colonized, Alye became the jumping off point to Tau Ceti and therefore to the rest of civilized space. Nowadays Eshu has a Federation governor who makes sure the undesirables stay away, the walls stay scrubbed white, and the bottom line balances out. A rather boring place with an interesting past. * [ Editors Note: The 47 page treatise on Eshuan geology and history has been condensed to the above to save memory. If you are interested in reading a full account, you bought the wrong book. Do n't Panic: P ] *
[ WP ] Donald Trump , Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton are having dinner together before the Election . They all unwittingly consume a truth potion .	`` The wine is excellent'' said the Secretary. Trump, looking a bit woozy, turned to Mrs. Clinton, `` Hillary, I got ta ask you, do you really think you're gon na beat me?''. `` Frankly, No. Which is incredible. You have no idea what you are doing. It was one thing to lose to Barack. He actually understood something about governing and with him you got it. You are goddamned buffoon!'' said the Secretary as she laughed giddily, not believing the words she just spoke aloud. Trump, unfazed, looked at the Secretary, `` I do n't need to know what I'm doing, I just need to lead. These people are not very bright. I tell them what they want to hear, surround myself with the BEST and the rest will take care of itself. You? People just do n't like you. Me? People love me, even if they hate me.'' The Secretary looked resigned. `` They do n't like me. Well some of them. But I have always fought and clawed to make a difference. And for what? To lose to you. I paid my dues. The public is just full of idiots.'' Mrs Clinton turned to The Senator who was quietly enjoying his steak, `` Christ, Bernie, even you had me on the ropes for month there. What about you, what do have to say about all this?'' The Senator wiped his mouth with his napkin and cleared his throat. A phlegmy, difficult clearing that reminds you just how old he actually is. `` You two are terrible people but this steak is delicious, so tender.''
[ WP ] Zero Sum World . For every person born , one must die .	At first it was only for the rich. Advances in science made it possible to live indefinitely. Those years are looked upon as the good times; the golden age of medical history. As years went by the technology became more affordable to the common man. When the World Health Orginization took over they mandated free immortality. Then camethe overpopulation. It was n't like there was a lack of food, free energy had been available for centuries, it was more the inconvenience of the crowds. That's when the Zero Sum slogan was championed. The world voted and elected to eliminate one individual from society for every one born. A second problem that plagues society. Free energy and industry wide automation eliminated the need for an economy. Humans have no work requirements. Well, most humans. I am one of the fortunate. I am Chicago's euthanizer. For every baby born in Chicago I received a randomly generated serial number that corresponds to another human. Anyone can be chosen. When I was a rookie in this field I would talk to other euthanizers and once heard a story about a fresh born having it's own serial number generated! What I would have given to be a part of that case! In my field the young ones are most fun. There is a certain look of understanding when euthanizing a 2 or 3 hundred year old person. The children evoke the greatest emotional response. It's been twenty years since my own number showed up on my list. That was the day I freed myself. My job is too important to have me be replaced. Instead I chose a human to take my place. It was then i knew i should abandon the list all together. Why allow a computer the honor of choosing who will live and who should die? Now when on a job I still will sometimes read the chosen one their death warrant, but when I do it's typically for nostalgia or if witnesses are present. There are emotions evoked when beging without warning are too important to not experience. It's almost animalistic. I do n't use the passive state sanctioned means anymore either. Those take too long to allow me to bear witness to the life leaving the flesh. The papers say what i do is wrong. They call it murder -though anyone who speaks out against what I do does not stay around long. I have an important job and I do it well.
[ WP ] In an NSA storage warehouse , an impossible computer has recently been discovered , hidden for decades amidst forgotten junk . It runs without power , and provides a correct answer for any question asked of it . The President of the United States has just been briefed on its existence .	`` The Corp of Engineers dug it up from some Cambodian temple in 1925. Initially they just assumed it was some ancient artifact, but apparently they discovered some other artifacts along with it. These other artifacts apparently suggested that this artifact - we just call it'The Box' - was older than anything previously discovered.'' `` What were the other artifacts?'' `` No one knows, Mr. President. Whatever they were, they spooked everyone involved with the project pretty good, up to and including President Coolidge. Coolidge ordered all the other artifacts destroyed, and almost all records, documentation, and paperwork related to the artifacts were destroyed as well.'' `` You're kidding me?'' `` No, sir. We would n't know even what we do about the project, if it were n't for the personal correspondence of several people involved; President Coolidge's personal journal being the primary source. References are vague, but it's clear that whatever these artifacts were, they were very concerned about the effect it would have on the general population of the world. Coolidge said that he felt, and I'm quoting here,'... that I am doing nothing less than saving the world from utter destruction.''' `` Amazing. So they destroyed all the artifacts, but not this one? Why?'' `` They could n't. We do n't know what they tried, but since The Box has been re-discovered and put under our care, we've tried heat, cold, fire, water, pressure, explosives, lasers, drills....not a dent or a scratch has ever been made. They even threw it in with some of the nukes they were testing in the 50's... did n't even have any lingering radioactivity.'' `` So... is it alien?'' `` That's the most popular theory. Some of the people who have studied it think it could be from a time long prior to recorded history... an ancient people that developed technology, then died out. Seems unlikely to me though, given the sophistication of the device.'' `` Yes, you referred to it as a computer earlier... does it work then?'' `` After a fashion. If you'll put on this ear protection sir....thank you. Now then, I'll open the door, and it's important that you begin speaking to it with the word'Computer'...'' `` Wait, I'm going to talk to it? Will it answer?'' `` It's best if you see for yourself. Simply say the word Computer, then ask it a question. Does n't matter what question.'' `` Uh, OK.'' `` Now then sir, in 3... 2... 1...'' ``... Computer, what is 2 plus 2?'' *EEEEENNGAAEUADeDADNAEENDAEOCNLOWAPADAPOIANAENADAWADSAAFAWFADDANNANNAGDDDADNNLOWD* `` Jesus!'' `` COMPUTER, STOP!'' *UHDAHDAYE....* `` General Harris, what the hell was that?'' `` Sorry to startle you sir, but I find it's impossible to convey the full weight of The Box talking, unless you experience it for yourself.'' `` So that's speech? How it communicates?'' `` We assume so. If it is indeed a language, it may well be the most sophisticated form of communication in the universe. Your head hurts right now because about 40 % of the message is delivered in an audio range above or below human perception. We've had linguistic and communication experts trying to make sense of this for over 40 years now, and they have n't even been able to properly identify even the basics of an alphabet or phonemes. In recent years, we've used computers to try and analyze the signals, look for patterns in the sounds, but no significant progress has been made, even with the most advanced equipment. Some of the researchers think there may even be a very advanced mathematical component to the language, woven into the fabric of the language itself, almost like computer code.'' `` Remarkable! So after all this time, you still have no idea what it's saying?'' `` None whatsoever. It apparently understands English perfectly, along with every other language we throw at it, but only will respond in it's own language. We've tried things like asking it to speak the English alphabet, or recite Moby Dick, but even then, when we have a known quantity to compare the sounds to, no patterns can be found. One of the first researchers to work with The Box, Dr. Stafford, once compared our efforts to cells trying to translate human speech, using only their chemical signaling. It could be that we, as a species, just do not yet have the intellectual capacity, or perhaps even senses, to fully understand it.'' ``... Is it possible this device represents some kind of test for us? Once we can understand what it's saying, we're ready to meet the people who made it?'' `` That is a very popular theory, yes sir. I try not to speculate about The Box too much myself, as I want to try and remain open to all possibilities. Whatever it is, it's very advanced, and so far very useless as well.'' `` Ah, I see. So this is what my $ 20 billion buys me, a room full of the best minds in the world, trying to learn their A-B-C's from a galactic computer?'' `` Something like that, sir. I wo n't lie to you and claim we're close to a breakthrough, because we're not. I also wo n't tell you that the research work itself has all kinds of wonderful benefits, though the men and women working here do occasionally find inspiration in a field like code breaking or wireless transmission. For the most part, however, we pay these men and women to beat their heads against the wall and fail. But if we ever do begin to make progress with The Box, it could potentially be the most important development in human history since we first began using tools.'' `` Well General, you certainly have a unique sales pitch, but looking at this... er, The Box, I ca n't imagine cutting your funding for any reason. You and your team are failing spectacularly, General.'' `` Thank you, sir.''
[ WP ] A modern day D & D where the party meets at 3 AM at the local Denny 's to get their mission from a mysterious hobo that 's more than he appears .	It was Bart's idea to go to Denny's after the club. None of them were necessarily opposed, although Fitz had really wanted slime dogs from Ted's, but Clarissa said if he ate one more of those things he was literally going to get cancer and die on the spot, which is how they had come to the dubious conclusion that eating at Denny's would qualify as healthier than something else. It was only a few blocks, so they walked. Also Warrick was drunk and did n't want anyone else driving his car, so they did n't plan on driving anywhere until he sobered up. `` Need some coffee,'' said Warrick. `` I'll be fine after that.'' `` You know, for an engineer you're not very smart sometimes,'' said Clarissa. `` Oh, please,'' said Warrick, `` enlighten us with the medical knowledge you've gained working as a receptionist at the urgent care clinic.'' `` I've learned quite a bit,'' she retorted. `` And anyway it's obvious. Only time will help you. Not coffee or hair of the dog or wing of the bat or whatever.'' Warrick was about to reply when he spun around the corner into the Denny's lot and ran face first into a stranger, both of them falling to the ground in opposite directions. `` Hey are you okay?'' asked Fitz. Warrick extended an arm for help standing but Fitz pushed right past him and went to the other man. Clarissa would have described him as `` a kind of down on his luck sort'' but Bart went right for the jugular, as Bart was wont to do. He'd been practicing his improv skills and was currently doing this thing where he just said the first thing that came to his mind, hoping it would be funny. It generally was not. `` You hurt, homeless dude?'' he asked. The man looked dazed but unharmed, and allowed Fitz to help him up. As he dusted himself off, Clarissa noticed the man had dropped something, and picked it up. It turned out to be a sign, confirming all their suspicions about the man's employment status, although the wording was a bit strange. `` Will give quests for food,'' she read out loud. `` That is awesome,'' said Bart. `` Let me get my phone. Dude, will you pose with that sign for us?'' The man looked uncertain about this, but also a bit intimidated, so he went along with it. `` Do you really do this though?'' asked Fitz. `` What?'' asked the man. `` Give quests for food.'' The man shrugged. `` Sure, I guess,'' he said. `` Cool,'' said Fitz. `` Come on with us.'' Fitz began walking towards the front of the store, but the man shook his head. `` Ca n't go in there,'' he said. `` They threw me out. Evil place.'' `` They're not going to throw you out if you're with us,'' said Warrick. `` We're paying customers.'' By which he meant that he was the paying customer; by virtue of the fact that his family was wealthiest, he pretty much bought everything for everyone all the time. Clarissa and Fitz sometimes offered to throw in for the tip, but never Bart. He was more likely to filch it from the table when no one was looking. Under some protest that made Clarissa worried that they were violating kidnapping laws somehow, they managed to steer the man into the restaurant, and snagged a table in the corner with a booth big enough for five, seating the man quite accidentally in the middle spot so he could n't run for it even if he wanted. The waitress did n't look amused when she came by, but neither did she throw them out. Still, the man propped his menu up in front of him on the table, hoping to avoid her withering glance. `` It'll be fine,'' said Fitz, sitting to the man's left. `` By the way, I'm Fitz. This is Clarissa, Warrick, and Bart. Watch out for Bart. He'll steal your wallet. Haha.'' `` That's not funny, Fitz,'' said Clarissa. `` He's a homeless guy.'' `` And he has a name,'' said Fitz. `` Does n't he. What is it?'' The man shrugged, seeming to accept his fate. `` Don,'' he said. `` Donald Johnson Masters,'' said Bart. He had indeed picked the man's pocket, and was currently reading the man's driver's license. `` Bart! What are you doing!'' scolded Clarissa. She grabbed the license from Bart's hands, and the man's wallet off the table, and quickly gave them back. `` I'm so sorry.'' The man simply slumped down as if he was used to this sort of treatment. `` He ca n't help himself,'' said Warrick. `` He's a paraplegic.'' `` Kleptomaniac,'' corrected Clarissa. `` Where did you get paraplegic from?'' `` Maybe I was predicting the future,'' said Warrick, clearly still not entirely sober. When the waitress came back, Fitz ordered for the man, since he seemed unwilling. Moons Over My Hammy seemed safe enough. The waitress collected all their menus, but Don insisted on keeping his. `` In case I want something else,'' he said. `` Whatever,'' said the waitress, rolling her eyes and stalking away. `` Okay,'' said Warrick. `` Let's get to it.'' `` To what?'' asked Clarissa. `` Our quest.'' `` Yeah!'' said Bart. `` Let's do it.'' `` Stop it guys,'' said Fitz. `` It was just a joke sign. Do n't humiliate the guy.'' `` No,'' said Don. `` It's fine.'' He set his menu down flat on the table and looked each of them in the eye. Something had changed about him. Subtle, but Clarissa saw it in his eye. What her mom would have called a twinkle. `` I'll give you a quest,'' he said. `` But you have to promise to complete it.'' `` Fine by me,'' said Bart. `` Come on, come on! Let's do this!'' Warrick nodded as well. Clarissa seemed less sure. `` You're not going to make us rob a bank, are you?'' she asked. The man shook his head. `` Okay then,'' she said. `` I'm in.'' Fitz considered. Clarissa had missed some obvious crimes when she'd jumped right to bank robbery. Like muggings, and murder, and arson. For all they knew the man was going to tell them to ransack someone's house, kill all the inhabitants and steal everything that was n't nailed down. Probably have them break all the furniture and light it all up for good measure. But Fitz also felt somehow that tonight was... special. Unusual. And Fitz was not happy with his lot in life. He did n't see a great career path out of the mall security guard field, and while his mind told him this was ridiculous, a silly joke they were having, his heart told him otherwise. `` Yes,'' he said. `` We promise.'' `` Okay then,'' said Don Jon Masters. `` But do n't say I did n't warn you.'' It would be Warrick, later after he sobered up, who would point out that at no time had the man actually warned them about anything. But by then it was too late.
[ Wp ] Humans have discovered how to live forever , allowing them to die when they feel ready to do so . But it is considered bad form to live for too long . You have lingered much longer than is polite and those around you are trying to convince you to die .	Four hundred years is the limit of what's considered socially acceptable. Since I've hit the big four-five-oh, people wo n't leave it alone. Especially the members of my current family. It might be time to move on soon. I circled the edges of the reunion dinner, ignoring the scandalised looks thrown my way. I picked up fragments of the conversation as I walked through the crowds, grabbing a glass of champagne along the way. `` Just rude, to leave his wife waiting for him, really,'' one woman ( supposedly my cousin sixteen times removed, or something of the sort ) muttered as I passed her. `` How many years has it been since she passed on?'' her friend asked. `` Eighty! And his oldest children went twenty years ago. Simply heartless, if you ask me...'' `` Well, nobody did ask you, did they Kelly?'' I said, not pausing to hear her reply as I made my way outside towards the balcony. I felt compelled to come every year. Witness who had passed, who were still biding their time. Free will always fascinated me. I gazed out over the city from the balcony, breathing deeply. I missed the trees. A giant, animated billboard of celebrating people caught my eye. Mass prayer meeting this Saturday. Show your appreciation for eternal life! Given the way Immortal Tablets were discovered, I suppose it was natural to believe you could simply continue your immortal life on another plane. Somewhere you did n't take up valuable space and resources. Where you could spend endless days of sunshine with your loved ones, without worrying about earning your place and time on Earth. They believed the story so strongly, they did n't fear death anymore. Not really. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who knows the story is bogus - at least the one they're telling themselves. I was, after all, quite a bit older than the 450 years I claimed, and had been the one to share my'secret' of the Immortality Tablets with the rest of the world in the first place. But when most people pass on after a paltry 400 years, people forget. They change the story. Myths and stories are fickle things, that become bruised and bent out of shape with time. Especially the one about who and what I was. People simply ca n't fathom the idea of being older than the universe itself, of someone having known the secret of the'tablets' all along. Who chose to share it with the rest of the planet simply because he got bored. Or at least, that's my theory. I have n't tested it yet. I do n't know if I want them to know the truth. This world is a small place, and we all have to die sometimes. Well, except for me, of course. I ca n't leave yet. For one thing, my humans remained interesting after all this time. And it would be rude to leave the party early. I'd started this whole mess, after all. I should see the ending of the story. I tossed back the rest of my champagne and made my way back inside. With luck, there would still be some food left. I could kill for one of those little sausage rolls right about now. _____ You can find more of my work on /r/Inkfinger/.
[ WP ] Aliens land in North Korea . They write a report about the human race entirely based off of their stay in North Korea .	Report for the Interior Minister of Intergalactic Affairs. I am writing this letter to you to accompany my final report on the people of planet 2314. After much research we finally decided to make contact with the one they call Supreme leader, in an effort to pass on the technology and skills to make intergalactic communication possible. However it is of my opinion that we should hold back all attempts for the foreseeable future. During our initial reconnaissance mission, we took the form of the local population and attempted to be integrated into society in order to learn their customs. However we were immediately met with hostility, as the local leaders of the region claimed we were not locals and that it was illegal for us to move around without permits. I was arrested and sent to a detention facility where I was forced to sleep in a small metal cage and continuously harassed by the guards. No amount of pleas for mercy would work and the more I attempted to explain my situation the more I was hurt. They beat me with metal rods and continually put them in all the openings of my body, claiming this was to make sure I did n't try steal the rocks I was forced to break. There are far greater horrors I witnessed, including mountains of corpses that are included in the report that I can not discuss here and now. After my escape we decided it would be wise to take the form of another life form and so I chose the common dog as it is called. With this form I was able to travel the streets of the capital and found that life was no different than in the detention facilities. But all this is in the report. What I wanted to tell you was of the other lands. It seems that the human race has not yet found unity and live in separate tribes. If all the tribes had knowledge of the atrocities that occurred in this land and did nothing to stop the supreme leader, then we can safely deduce that they are not as yet ready to decide their own destiny. We should put this planet in quarantine for the foreseeable future. I would also like to tender my resignation. The suffering I have seen and endured has been the worst I have had my 72 cycles. Such barbarism can not be forgotten. Please forgive my weakness, and long live Sporg.
[ WP ] You 're accused of murder . You hire , or the state hires for you , a lawyer . The lawyer is the real murderer .	“ It was a dark night. It was raining pretty heavily, and the street light on the corner seemed to be about to give up, flickering constantly. Under it stood Rachel, waiting for a taxi. I stood in the darkness across the street, psyching myself up to ask her out. I had tried to, multiple times, but I could n't find it in me to ask. That night, I told myself I would, and I would deal with whatever happened next. As I stepped off the curb, a man wearing a hoodie stepped up to her and started a heated argument with her. I could n't hear a word of what they were saying over the din of the storm, but they were evidently yelling. I actually thought about helping her, but after the restraining order, I did n't want to take that chance. I had already taken a huge risk by being here. Then it happened. As I debated on whether I should step in, he pulled out a knife and stabbed her. Not once, or twice, Oh God, not even thrice. He stabbed her five times, and then disappeared into the darkness. I did n't know what to do. So I panicked, and I ran. I could n't sleep for days after that. Just thinking about the fact that I could've saved her destroyed me. ” Louis, my lawyer, looked up from his notes and asked me, ” Rob, I'm gon na be honest with you. I do n't think that's true. ” I was furious. ” Really, Mr. Litt? You do n't believe me? I knew it. The State wanting to give me a fair trial was all bullshit. ” Nonchalantly, Louis responded, ” No Rob, it's not that. I will defend you to the best of my ability. It's not that I do n't believe you, because it does n't matter whether I do. All I meant was that a jury would n't be inclined to believe that. Forget that now, Rob. Did you see the man's face? ” “ I did n't, but when he finished….killing her, he threw a backward glance as he walked away. I'll never forget those cold eyes, absolutely remorseless, despite what he'd done. * As horrifying as it was for me, the lawyer that the State had appointed for me did n't seem to care. He said, ” Rob, you've got ta agree that it seems very convenient that as you were about to ask out a girl, a girl who had a restraining order against you, a random man appears, stabs her five times, and is never seen again. ” I broke down. “ I'm telling you man. That's the truth. I would never hurt Rachel. ” “ Why did you run, Rob? ” “ What? ” “ I said, why did you run? ” The overwhelming despair that I tried to suppress broke free. “ I... I do n't know man. I just..I panicked, and I ran. I should've saved her, but I.. I couldn't. ” “ Listen… Rob. You've got ta admit, the facts are against you. I think it's best that you plead guilty ” I leapt from my chair. “ LOUIS, I DID N'T DO IT!! WHY DO N'T YOU BELIEVE ME?!?! ” “ Rob, calm down. ” “ NO LOUIS, I CA N'T!!! I'M TELLING YOU, I DID N'T DO IT!! ” “ Rob, nobody give a rat's ass whether you did it or not. She had a RESTRAINING ORDER against you, and not only that, there's also footage of you running away from the crime scene. ” “ What? ” “ You heard me. The CCTV footage from the shop down the road caught you, on tape, running away frantically. So sit down, and hear me out. If you plead to insanity, you'll probably get three to four years in a mental rehabilitation institution, after which you can walk away from this mess. It'll be easy for the jury to believe, since you were clearly head over heels in love with her. ” At this point, I could n't take it anymore. I sat down dejectedly, and mumbled, through tears, “ Alright man. Do it. ” “ Rob, I know that this must be incredibly hard, but trust me, I'm doing the best I can. ” As he got up to leave, an officer came into the room and cuffed me. “ Hang tight, Rob. I'll be in touch. For what it's worth, I believe your story. ” With that, he left, and so ended my first meeting with my legal counsel. The officer took me to my holding cell, where I will be held till the trial, which was in two weeks. It was n't as bad as it seemed, but I could n't get any sleep. The horrible image of her bleeding out on the street kept me awake, and I have n't slept in over two days. Two weeks blitzed by, and trial started. In the interim, Louis contacted me regularly, to talk about the plea. He said that there were no deals on the table, which meant that the State had enough evidence to put me away easily. Trial started, and Louis brought to the stand an expert in psychology, who testified that I was very clearly insane during the act. As Louis had stated, it was n't a question of whether I was guilty. It was about showing that I deserved a second chance. The defense, however, did n't think so. They hammered that expert till she admitted that passion was n't grounds for insanity. They produced the restraining order, and proved to the jury that I was completely sane while following her, and that I was obviously sane when I stabbed her five times. The day of the verdict. The jury condemned me to ten years in a low security rehab centre. I could n't believe it, but strangely, Louis seemed almost overjoyed. He tried and failed to cover it up. As he wished me the best of luck and stepped away for the officials to escort me to that godforsaken place, he looked over his shoulder, and I saw it. Those cold, remorseless eyes staring back at me. In a flash, all the memories of that night returned in a wave of emotions that crashed over me and shook me to the core. He was the killer, I was certain of it. His gait was exactly like the killer's as he walked away from me, ruining another life in the process. Since that day, I've been waiting, patiently. I have been wronged. Rachel has been wronged. I will have my revenge. He will PAY. Guys, tell me if you'd like a part two of this!! Thanks!!
[ WP ] Tell the story of an elaborate squirt-gun bank robbery .	It was raining in the big city. So that meant all the shit ran on down to Hartford just an hour out of the metroplex. Flash flood for the last three days displaced the homeless and annoyed the rest. No one was happy. Eddy Flint, called Big John by an odd circumstance in his youth had three umbrellas when he left his small ranch home that morning. One he set in the office and it was gone when he had to run out to his old Lincoln, trusty as a car he could n't afford to upgrade could be. He had to stop by the pharmacy for his land lady, a sour puss of an old woman that had no one else to help her out. Upon exiting there was a mother in her teens juggling her child and her groceries. He traded her the umbrella and carried her load. He pretended he did n't hear her as she called out saying he forgot it. Back at the office he got a call for work. Homicide. Multiple bodies. He had to interrupt for the address and left. The wind of course ripped the last umbrella from his hands so he arrived on scene a little late ( because of the Lincoln ) and soaking wet because of the rain. The uniformed man at the barricade did n't know who Big John was. He also did n't know who Eddy Flint was but if he wanted to wait he would go look for him. Big john sighed and ducked under the tape and kept walking. As expected the young man went back to watching the line instead of trying to stop him. It was amazing what a disappointed sigh and ignoring someone could do. He turned it on. Whatever skill or ability he had that others did n't that thing that `` made him special'' that he could n't even define. He turned it on. There were several groups of innocents. The angry, the actually hurt, the people that thought they were hurt and the people with shell shock. Normally, the smallest group was those actually hurt. This time it was n't. The medics wore flat professional faces as they did there best triage. It did n't look good. Some sort of chemical. Four or five bodies were under a painter's tarp. Big John knelt never noticing the puddle. He pulled the plastic up. The whiff of chemicals hit him like a punch to the face. But his eyes flashed over the bodies noting the placement and damage of clothing and flesh. He glanced around. At some point Detective Melbourne had arrived and was offering him some gloves. `` The pen instead.'' Big John said. He examined the dead then made his way to the living. `` Hydrofloric acid.'' Big John said when the pieces clicked. The medics looked up at him as one, then snapped into a frenzy. He did n't know why they were already dead. `` It was for the glass.'' Big John said to Melbourne. The Detective nodded. `` Six feet near as we can see, drilled a bit of a hole in the top and injected. We are n't sure why.'' The new security features. Big John thought but he said nothing it would take to long to explain. He moved further into the chaos and the picture of what had happened began to form up. Three to five men, medium build by the foot prints in the grass, perhaps the smallest was a woman. The smell of burnt fuel assaulted him as he entered. `` Gasoline.'' Detective Melbourne said. `` Close.'' Big John said. `` Naphtha, no additives.'' The other man simply nodded and made a note in his book, the other two uniformed cops shared a look. They entered here, lit the room on fire, perhaps a few people. Yup, there was a body. The spent fire extinguisher showed someone had tried to do some good. Probably the guy that was burnt to a crisp there in the corner. Then they moved past the doors here. How? The smell was strangely metallic here. Something else. `` Triethylaluminum.'' Big John said as the pieces clicked into place. `` What?'' One of the other cops barked. Melbourne just asked for the spelling. `` They sprayed that through the speaker holes before the sprinklers went off. The water ignited it. Sent them scrambling, someone exited.'' Then there was the glass. Huge thick panes of glass and industrial machines on the other side. The glass was eaten away by the acid, clumps had settled on the floor almost like road sludge in winter. `` What is this place?'' Big John asked. `` Counting station for the us mint.'' Melbourne said, `` The glass let the people see the billions that moved by on that conveyor belt.'' Melbourne paused then prodded gently, `` Who are we looking for?'' Big John turned his head to find all three with pads out and pens ready. How did they not know? `` Someone at a refinery, or chemical plant, probably a refinery though where they would get the TEAL I do n't know. Look for people who ordered specific safety equipment for the first time. Call the places and have them look at their inventories. Most wo n't have a clue how much they had to begin with but they can check...
[ WP ] The Observers had existed for millennia , always watching us mortals , never interacting . But for the first time ever , they do . And you are responsible .	NO!! -- -- -- `` What the helly?'' You claim loudly as you turn around. You hand instinctively reach out for the bread knife, but even that falls into your kitchen floor. UH, SORRY ABOUT THAT -- -- - `` You damn right you are, you blue, orb-ish thingy'' You said as you return back at making your sandwich. It took you several seconds before your mind backtrack and the hair in your neck slowly rise up. You take a quick breath, close your eyes, and just scream all the way back to your bedroom. Mrs. Simmons can complain about the noise again, you dont care. You always knew this cheap flat was haunted and here is your actual proof! That brief, snack raid at the middle Tuesday night was a disaster. The next two days you cant help to feel as if you was being followed in your room. You even sprinkle some salt in the foor your bed at Thursday, only to wake up with ants in your sheet. You thought ants hate salt. The only rational thing your brain can work out from this phenomena was that a quick trip to the Google search bar was due soon, and also that the blue orb is trying to message you something through the ants. You didnt sweep the ants and the salt, just in case they both form some kind of letter and words as an attempt of contact, when the doorbell of your room ring at Saturday night. You open. Half-heartedly wish it was Thomas from the Fruit Section of the supermarket you worked at, asking you out for a surprise date. There was no Thomas. What was there was petite young woman, with twintail styled hair, and questionable ethnicity ( Thai? Japanese? You remember a Burmetian supermodel at last year Victoria's Secret Catwalk Show that slightly looks like her. ) ( Love her bikini back then ) ( Wish you had the courage to pull that off ) `` You're getting sidetracked again'' the girl said with no accent whatsoever `` Oh sorry'' You says as you put your hands behind your back and lower your body slightly to even out both your height `` What can I help you miss?'' `` You cost me my job already, just let me in'' What? `` Pardon?'' `` Just let me in, Sasha'' she says as she push past me and took some tired looking steps into my favorite and only couch. Your mind is filled by dozens of question pushing right in your skull at some unattainable speed. Who is she? Just who she thinks she is? Nobody just waltz right into Sasha Knabss single apartement unattended! If you want to ask me things, just ask it, jeez. Huh? `` I said, if you want to ask me things you dont understand, just move your tongue,'' She demonstrated by twirling her's `` around your mouth cavity to form sounds with it, which then other people might understand as language you both speak'' `` I-I dont understand'' `` Sorry. Old habits die hard. Please close that door and lets just talk'' You did. Then you tidy up your skirt and sit next to her. The TV is still on, but suddenly the sounds wont come out of Edward Cullen's mouth, the light around the kitchen dim and just fade out, leaving only the above in the ceiling in your living/tv/guest room on. `` That's going to take some adjustment to get used to, but okay, lets get right back to business'' She said in a sharp, collected tone. `` Simply put, Sasha, I am the orb you speak with and just cant stop thinking about since Tuesday'' I laughed. That laugh people had when they havent heard what the others are saying in third telling. Now you are just being rude. I instinctively hold my hands in my mouth. It was a second later that I realize it was the girl again that said the last bit. `` Like I said, if you want to say anything about me, lets keep those in the physical world. I tried my best to limit by ability in the astral world, so if you can just stop speaking inside your head, it would help me resist the temptation.'' `` O-okay'' You replied as calmly as you can. This is getting too we- `` This is getting too weird for my liking'' `` I understand that. But believe me, this is the best I can offer'' `` Wel- Hey, whats the deal with scaring my brains out last Tuesday? What did I do wrong?'' `` You tried spreading your pet ashes into your sandwich at three in the morning'' Yeah. `` Yeah, well, it was dark! And I wasnt completely awake then'' `` At least you can say thank you'' You feel your face going red. If anything. She had a point. It was only the next morning you discovered what you almost did last night, but blaming it on the orb was more convenient than taking the blame yourself. `` Thank you, whoever you are'' She let go off her held breath. `` You dont know how much that means to me, Sasha Knabss'' She says at last while glowing in soft blue light. `` That is if you dont actually the force that makes me do it'' Suddenly the lightshow stops, and the blue-orb-claiming girl were sent in such force backwards that she were thrown out of the sofa. You took a second to process it all out, before rising and helping her to her feet. `` I knew it wasnt that easy'' She says as she retain back het sitting place in your sofa. `` A honest feeling only happens in your species for a milisecond before your brain tries to rationalize it'' `` Well, how should I know?'' You, just as she said, tries to rationalize. `` Its not everyday that I mistook the jar of, of chocolate sprinkles that I left hours before in my cupboard as, as, as Twiggy ashes!'' `` God Almighty, you're such a klutz'' She said as he facepalmed slowly and tiredly. You want to retort, but her expression seemed so serious you held back your tongue. `` I shouldnt have stopped you doing that'' She finally says absentmindedly while the TV continuous to mutely drone on. `` I just remembered how much you love that dog that I accidentally slip into the physical world and make you stop'' `` Were you not supposed to do that?'' `` I dont'' `` Im sorry'' `` No, its still technically my fault. My friends are working their very best right now behind the scene to make things right'' `` So who are you again? Some kind of guardian angel?'' `` More like, a guardian angle really. We are the ones that keep things the way they are. Keep the one plus one equals two and other basic understanding of the universe intact'' She materialize a soda into her hand, then suddenly her expression turn extra sour, as if she had just make a great mistake. `` Ah'' She handed you the soda `` The catch is that we should never interract with you directly, as our powers might do some ripple effect that would ruin whatever we had worked so far. But I guess there's a first time for everything'' `` Really?'' `` That, or they never tell me. I.. Im quite new to this, actually'' `` Ahh'' `` Dont just Ahhs me, you fool'' `` What do you want me to do to then? Say'thank you' again so that you can ascend back?'' `` Thats the gist of it, yeah'' Eh? `` EH? So that light? That you rising from the couch and fall behind, it was because I accidentally denied you from ascending back?'' Her look she gave you was toxic. Like she was inches away from beating the hell out of you. You instinctively shrink back and just quietly whisk the soda she gave you earlier. You hear the sound of breath being released before she speaks again `` Its not that simple. My friends warned me about it. The thanks needs to be a special kind of genuine for it to work. Not the one motivated by justice. Not one motioned by deductive thinking. Just something pure and selfless and now that I told you that I need it more than ever, it just makes it even harder for that genuine moment to happen.'' She ended her explanation with a sighs. `` But, but we can try, right?'' `` Yeah, we can''
[ WP ] The Earth has a system of choosing guardians for itself . It does so by picking a sole survivor of natural disasters , and imbues them with the power of said disaster . You have just been struck by lightning .	People around me die - that's what my power is. I would n't go into specifics, but since you insist... When the electrical current enters the human body, it causes all the muscles it goes through to clench. That's why you do n't touch somebody who's being electrocuted when you want to help them: you risk being stuck to them, too. Better hit them with something insulated, like a wooden stick, to make them break the contact with the exposed conductor. Though with me you can hit them all you want, their muscles will not relax no matter what. You'd think that after the lightning strike my power would be something awesome and terrifying, like reaping through the air with the power of thunder or throwing lightning bolts. No, my power is more precise than that. I can make each individual muscle in somebody's body tense, and there no limit or number distance. If there's an army on the horizon, I can make them bow to me without breaking the sweat, and they would n't be able to hide or sneak up on me: I can sense the electric impulses that go through their nervous system. I can twist their bodies into bizarre figures, though I usually never do that, preferring to target the main muscle in their bodies: their hearts. There's no need to torture them when I can just shut down their bloodstream and cut the air supply to their brains. The first people who died to my force were the passengers on that plane. 136 people. Anyone of them could become a new Defender, but the nature chose me, for some reason. Everyone else around me died in the catastrophe. Everyone else. That was when my heart stopped as well. After that, I did n't care anymore. If the Earth wanted me to be one of those who would cleanse it from the humanity's scourge, then so be it. ________ To get my releases ahead of everybody else and get your hands on Advance Reading Copies of my books, subscribe to [ r/Scandalist ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/Scandalist/comments/4n4iu6/authors_message_welcome_new_readers/ )!
[ EU ] Sherlock ( either BBC series or historical ) dissuades a young boy from becoming like him	Sherlock Holmes stared down at the sign on the small card table, while the brown-haired boy awaited an answer to his question. It read: `` 25 cents per day, plus expenses - no case too small''. Sherlock tutted; the boy was either selling himself short or the town of Idaville, Maine was economically trapped in the sixties. Sherlock had only heard about the boy through the faintest whispers on the grapevine: a name periodically found in the reports made by the Idaville police chief, the boy's father, who would consult him on difficult cases. It had been on a particularly boring day that Sherlock had heard about the boy, and decided on a whim to fly across the world to see the boy for himself. ``'Scuse me, but can I help you?'' the boy asked again. Sherlock looked up, scanning the boy. `` Perhaps you can,'' Sherlock said, fishing a coin from his pocket. A fresh, shiny quarter, which was slapped on the card table in the small garage with the impact of a gavel. `` I have a case for you, Mister Brown.'' The boy took the quarter, dropping it into a jar filled with similar coins. `` A bit older than the usual customers,'' said the blonde girl bouncing a tennis ball against the far wall of the garage. `` A quarter's a quarter,'' the boy said. `` What's the case?'' `` Tell me,'' Sherlock said with a small, snakelike smile, `` who I am. Where I'm from, what my name is, my occupation, everything you can logically discover about me from where you're sitting right now.'' `` That's easy,'' the boy said. `` You're from London, England, your name is Sherlock Holmes, and you're a private investigator and occasional police adviser.'' Sherlock smiled. `` Very good. How did you know?'' `` I've seen you on television,'' the boy said simply. `` Of course you have,'' Sherlock said. `` What else can you tell about me?'' `` You came here as quick as you could once you got off the plane, and took a bus to the Idaville Bus Depot. You walked there from here,'' the boy said after a moment of thought. `` You have n't changed the time on your watch yet, and you could n't have driven here because I did n't hear a car approaching before you arrived. You could have caught a taxi from the depot, but you felt like walking because you've been sitting down enough for one day.'' The blonde girl rolled her eyes, just like John would after Sherlock showed off his deductive abilities. `` Very good,'' Sherlock said, allowing himself another small smile. `` Then can you guess why I'm here?'' `` I could, but I think you're going to tell me,'' the boy said. `` Clever. Quit playing at detective, boy.'' The words fell on utter silence. The blonde girl stared at Sherlock, and missed the rebound of her tennis ball; it hopped weakly around the garage before rolling out the door and down the driveway. `` You're nuts,'' the boy said. `` Why would I do that?'' `` Because eventually, you're not going to be satisfied with simple childhood games of deduction,'' Sherlock said, voicing the words he wished somebody had told him a long time ago, when he'd had a table just like this one. He had charged a pound per case, though. `` You'll get bored with scheming juvenile conmen, and yawn when Tommy from down the lane asks you to help him find where he left his bike again. You'll keep hunting for challenges, begging your father for more complicated cases, for bloody, grisly horrorshows that set your mind on fire. This small town is n't going to be able to amuse you forever, and when it turns into a bore, you'll leave, and you'll hunt down brilliant cases just to keep yourself from going insane. And your friends will drag themselves along for the ride, trying to stop you but praying you'll keep going because the game is just so exciting. And when you reach the end, when there's nothing left to interest you any longer, you will understand why boredom is worse than death.'' The two children were utterly silent, weathering the battering rain from the stormcloud Sherlock had become. `` You're a smart lad. Find something else to apply yourself to. Do n't hunt down mysteries just to prove that you're cleverer than the rest. You'll only find pain and worse at the end of the line.'' The boy stared at him. `` I,'' he said, swallowing dryly, `` I'll have to think about that.'' `` I thought you would,'' Sherlock said. He straightened, and nodded at the boy. `` Have a good day.'' And with that, he left. -- - It was dinner time. Only the boy's mother was eating, his father too busy explaining a dastardly theft, and him staring at his peas, lost in thought. `` -but there was no sign the safe had been opened,'' his father finished. Silence. They were waiting for his answer. It was obvious. How could they not see it? Nothing had been taken from the safe because nothing had been in the safe in the first place. An elementary school student could have figured it out, but why could n't they see it? `` Leroy?'' his mother asked. `` Is something wrong?'' The boy looked up. They were staring at him, waiting for the answer. He always knew the answer. No matter how impossible the mystery seemed, he always knew. This is boring, a tiny voice said to him. Why ca n't they ever give me a real challenge? He swallowed. `` I'm sorry, Dad,'' said Encyclopedia Brown. `` I do n't know.'' -- - Read my [ blog ] ( http: //theballadsofirving.wordpress.com ) for the other stuff I write.
[ WP ] [ EU ] After getting his ring back from the engraver , Sauron realizes it mistakenly says `` One Ring To Rule The Mall '' .	Sauron second attempt at ruling was now falling into place. The Rings of Power had been a brilliant strategy that should have given him domain over all the lesser beings. But then there was the error. Soon he realized he had created enemies that were stronger than they had been. They would have wiped him out had they not been busy battling each other. He was relegated to the shadows, watching, sending his minions to discover what this'Mall' was. Finally a mage was able to see through the bonds of space and time and see what a'Mall' was. Sauron was angry, but then realized what he needed to do. And thus began his construction. The Dead Marshes were filled in with something called'Blacktop' and had strange lines painted on it. Throughout this there were steel post radiating an unholy light down on any who passed below them. Next came the changes to Mordor. The whole of the vast seat of evil was now a huge labyrinth. The brightly lit corridors all seemed as if they would lead to the center, but none truly did. Then there were the minions. There battle armor still in place, but painted in bright colors. Many now new the battle cry'May I Help You!'. One of the most dreaded of the minions was a specialist that would suddenly appear and spray something than run away shouting'It is on sale!' Finally, the last piece was in place. The wall surrounding mordor had actually been partially covered during all of the construction, but now came the unveiling, the one weapon that would lead the men, elves, and dwarves to their doom. Sauron pulled a lever and as he did, great tarps and shade fell from the wall revealing huge painted sigils of power. `` Up to 90 % off! Everything must go! Hurry, sale ends soon!''
[ WP ] A man has to come to terms with the fact that he just loosened everything .	Mr. Harp's hands were blood red, made redder by the glowing embers of his cigarette. He'd been unstable since the divorce, at least, that's what they said. Who would n't be? You find a girl you love, you hold onto her, sometimes you fight, sometimes things work out, sometimes they do n't, but Mr. Harp never thought that it was bad enough to warrant a divorce. `` Sometimes things do n't have to go bad for bad things to happen.'' He said that to himself out loud. His lonely voice echoed through a house of flickering lightbulbs. Each bulb caught the electricity for a moment. Each room sparked brightly at different times, giving the house an offbeat rhythm. It started first with the doors. Then he worked on the windows. Then the furniture. He only did the lightbulbs to complete the madness. He wondered if she'd even notice. He was spinning the screwdriver on the top stair. Just then, in the ember glow of his third tired cigarette, the door opened. It opened normally at first, and then it pitched forward grasping at its hinges like some mad drunk sinking out of a cab. The weight of the door, the door he sanded down and painted red for her, fell hard against the floor boards. It shook the fragile house and the fragile man sitting at the top of the stairs. Then the chandelier, after a painful groan, crashed at her feet. The front hall was littered with spiralling, fake jewels. They cast a kaleidoscope of fractured light as the hallway lightbulb flickered on and off. Then the dining room table, stacked with all of her finest china, gave out. The loosed screws spun circles on the floor, dodging shattered glass. Then the sofa slipped and splintered. Then the coat rack. Then the cabinet came apart. The house was spinning with nails and screws, tearing circles into the varnished flooring. `` What did you do?'' The soon not to be Mrs. Harp looked at Mr. Harp. He was smiling behind his fourth cigarette. He was on the point of laughter. This was the happiest he'd felt since he was a child, filled with pride and mischief. He did n't respond. He just stuck his hand up and put out his thumb and pinky, twisting it right and left. Hang loose. `` The lawyer said the house is yours.'' He said. The bed upstairs gave out. Screws tumbled down the stairs in the blinking light of loose lightbulbs. `` Here it is.'' `` I'll sue you for this, John.'' `` I did n't do anything. You're the one who opened the door.''
[ WP ] In the near future , political apathy is nonexistent . The people have demanded , and failed to receive true representation in Government . All other methods have failed , and only one option remains : the direct democracy revolution .	We created a democracy to better serve everyone's needs, but the plan backfired. It seemed like such a good idea: Remove all the corrupt politicians from power, and instead create a website where everyone can vote based on their opinion. What we did n't count on was the power of marketing. Within a month, the entire population was gridlocked with decisions such as whether Justin Bieber should rule the world, and what outfits the Kardashians should be forced to wear that day. Finally, the military stepped in. It was a small vote, most people abstained, or more likely, did n't even notice. The order was simple: Electrons now have rights, and all computers must be destroyed. A few days later, another vote repealed the previous law, and destruction of computers stopped, but creating or importing more of them is still illegal. We have a direct democracy now. Anyone with a computer can go to the website, and make their opinions known. Only a handful of people have computers. They vote for the laws they like, and anyone else who illegally obtains one is quickly discovered and disconnected. The surveillance drones make sure of that.
[ WP ] The phrase `` if it was n't documented , it did n't happen '' gains a new meaning when nobody documented your death ...	`` Name.'' The man in white robe and gold braided belt asked. He was old, wrinkled and bore a fantastic long, white beard and mustache. He was pouring over a large book, quill in one hand scratching into it. `` Nathaniel Drews.'' Nathan said, shuffling on his feet. He felt strange, being dead. Felt like he was still alive, but minus all his things and clothes. The old man muttered Nathan's name over and over as he used his quill free hand to scour the tome for his name. His bushy brows furrowed as he lifted his hard gaze and pierced Nathan with and icy blue glare. `` Your real name.'' The old man growled. `` That is my real name.'' Nathan said, emphatically. `` You are not in my book, so you should n't be here.'' The old man grumbled then shouted with a voice like thunder. `` NEXT!'' `` But... I did die. I was killed in a car accident.'' Nathan pleaded. `` What do I do? Where do I go?'' `` Go see Sibyl.'' The old man waved him off, apparently fed up in dealing with Nathan. Nathan was shoved out of the way by a burly man with a handle bar mustache. His slate gray eyes glowered at Nathan as he took his place in front of the old man. Nathan stumbled to the side, not sure who Sibyl was or where he could find this person. He stood there, rubbing his arms nervously. `` Name.'' The old man asked Handle Bar. `` Vlad Vostonovich.'' Handle Bar said in a thick accent. Nathan thought Russian, but he could be wrong. A hand clasped Nathan's shoulder, making him jump and yelp. He turned and came face to face with a young girl, mousy brown hair and hazel eyes. She had a small halo that was canted to one side and she wore a somewhat disheveled skirt suit. Her small white wings fluttered as she gasped for breath. `` I am so sorry to make you wait.'' She panted. `` I am Sibyl Rightwing, come with me.'' Nathan nodded dumbly and followed the small angel. It seemed to him that they had been walking for miles before they came to a small building that resembled the town library from his hometown. Sibyl quickly ushered Nathan inside and hurried over to the single desk in the room. Nathan took the only seat opposite the desk, wondering what was going on. Something was off. `` Now, Nathaniel, correct?'' She asked pulling out a pair of glasses and putting them on. `` Nathan.'' He nodded and took in the sparse decor. A little bookshelf to the left of the desk, crammed full of various sizes of books. A tiny succulent perched on a precarious stack of books that looked like it was about to topple over. To the right was a typical water cooler, little paper cups decorated with little white bunnies. There was a very old, beat up rug beneath the chair he sat in and a painting hanging on the wall behind Sibyl's desk of the last supper. `` Nathan, it seems something happened on Earth and thus it is affecting you, making it so you ca n't move on to Heaven, Hell, Limbo or Reincarnation.'' Sibyl said as she dug in a drawer and pulled out several papers, shuffling them noisily. `` Ok.'' Nathan said, voice wavering. `` Seems like your death was not documented, thus it really did n't happen.'' Sibyl said pushing her glasses up her nose to look pointedly at Nathan. `` What?'' He started. Was this a joke? How was his death not documented? He was standing right there beside the EMT when he declared Nathan deceased. `` Yeah, sorry.'' She shuffled the papers again. `` It is n't often this happens, but humans will be humans and forget to process the proper paperwork. There is n't much we can do. We can send you back to Earth, but you will not be in Limbo, you will basically be a floating energy, no ghost or poltergeist. Or you can stay here and enjoy eternity here.'' `` What is there to do up here?'' Nathan asked. `` Well...'' Sibyl hesitated. `` I have a small garden and there is a small village of people like you not too far from here.'' `` So... I ca n't go back? I ca n't go anywhere but here or be doomed to be a whisper of a fart?'' Nathan felt his anger rising. This was n't his fault. He should n't be made to suffer for something that he had no control over and some dumb idiot did n't do his job. He knew it was not right of him to be mad at Sibyl, she was just doing her job. But he was angry and there was no one else around. `` Well.'' Sibyl set the papers down, flattening her hands carefully out beside them. `` There is another option.'' `` And what is it?'' `` You could return to your body.'' Sibyl suddenly had a gleam in her eyes. `` What?'' Nathan asked. `` You can return to your body, go back to Earth, but not as a new born. Go back into the body you left.'' She said, a small smile creeping onto her lips. `` I can do that?'' Nathan asked, excited. He would be able to do the things he was planning on and not waste his time. `` Yeah, though it's not really smiled upon, in fact it is rather taboo, and there are some quirks I should tell you about.'' `` I do n't care, let's do this right now.'' Nathan said. He did n't want to be in this plane any longer than he needed to. He wanted out and if he got the shot to go back into his body he would do so many different things. He would finally talk to his mom and tell her how much he loved her and was sorry for being a douche. `` Just sign here.'' Sibyl pushed a single sheet of paper towards him. `` I would advise you read it through carefully.'' Nathan snatched the pen out of the offered hand and scribbled his name quickly on the line. In an instant he vanished, the pen falling to the beaten up rug. Sibyl smiled. `` I do love zombie movies.'' She giggled as she took off her glasses, a forked demon tail swaying back and forth behind her as she stood. Sibyl plucked the halo from her head and smoothed the mussed hair to reveal a pair of tiny, black horns. She laughed as she sauntered out of the tiny building.
[ WP ] When you die , you are given the chance to flip a coin . If you call the toss correctly , you are allowed to keep living , while resetting to the age of your choice . You 've been doing this for a couple centuries now . Death is starting to get pretty pissed .	`` We've been at this for quite a while mortal'' Death said, this time dressed as some punk rocker girl with black hair and purple tips. Thomas sighed, `` Listen, for once could you use my name? Any of them will do! Just knock it off with the'mortal' crap.'' She flashed a bony, macabre smile, almost as if she had no lips for a moment `` Maybe when you stop winning I might. Go ahead, just call the flip. We will see if I win you this time.'' Thomas flashed a dark look at the avatar for a brief moment, `` YOU will never'win' me. You may win the contest one day, but not me!'' His face relaxed into a bored look once more, drumming the coin along the table. Death's face squirmed with impatience, `` Oh come on mortal just complete the task. I have things to do you know!'' He huffed out a breath, `` Time is a mortal construct and you taught me that about coin flip # 100? Right when you pulled me up for helping people during -- -'' `` Yeah the Black Death I know!'' She slammed her bony hand on the table, flesh returning to shape around it as she gestured, `` I caught a shit rap sheet with your kind during that moment. One of the many reasons why I hate your kind.'' He quirked an eyebrow up, finally a conversation with him/her/it after all these centuries. Leaning over the table, face within inches of Death's he asked, `` What are the other reasons?'' Death sat back, this time shaping form into a grizzled veteran of some long distant war. Suited in a uniform with strange flags from centuries ago, `` Because at the same time you honor and praise me, you condemn and damn me. You ungrateful insolent little pricks. You're like children that scream at their parents then suddenly go to hug them upon their final sleep.'' Thomas remembered the various times he lived. Poet, beggar, simple farmer, and eventually politician. What no one told him at the beginning was how much he would remember after each game. He remembered how it felt to beg for scraps of food, the fresh smell of a good harvest, and so much more. During this last trip, he was a prominent diplomat; hailed for numerous peace initiatives, but was cut down by a sniper's bullet just short of running for Presidency. Death now looked like an old professor of his from a few centuries ago, thumbing through a manilla folder containing this incarnation's life story. The spectre chuckled, `` Even you of all people should recognize how hypocritical they are, your kind. After all cutting you down and all you did was try to bring peace to them.'' It looked off into the void and mumured, `` I'll be busy soon enough. Only I wo n't be able to clock back in until you flip this damn COIN!'' Thomas slammed his fist on the table, `` If I do then I'll win! We start this crap over and over once more!'' `` Then surrender the game!'' Death roared. `` THAT'S NOT IN OUR NATURE!'' He roared back and flung the coin into the void as hard as possible. Death watched it sail into the abyss and only whispered, `` Going to be a hell of a flip if it actually HITs anything.'' Turning back to Thomas, `` Care to call it now?!'' `` Edge,'' he huffed. `` No deal mortal, you tried that crap at flip # 200. It has to be a side, just like I said during flip # 1.'' Death did n't want to get up, but the coin was sailing along the inky black rather nicely right now. Thomas scoffed as he pulled up that memory, `` Yeah I remember that flip. I remember the joy in my heart as I returned as a 20 year old. I also remember trying to go back `` home'' to my first life's town and see if I could find her.'' Death, shaping into an elderly woman, leaned forward and whispered, `` I know and I will apologize for not telling you about that bit of advice. I remember her quite well. Nice lady, emotionally weakened after your first final sleep. You coming back was -- -'' `` Was a damn idiotic thing to do!'' He stared at the elderly lady visage. Continuing with tears in his eyes, `` She did n't understand. She did n't realize that I came back to continue life with her! She -- -'', choking back the sobs as Death finished the rest. `` She jumped, right into my arms. Your kind called it suicide.'' Thomas' head slammed against the table as he cried and roared, `` WHY DID N'T SHE GET A COIN FLIP?!'' Death's elderly lady visage finally touched his hand in a moment, the cold and empty nothing at least providing some feeling to him, `` Mortal, she left. She did n't try to stay, try to fight, and was n't taken too soon. You died protecting children from local bandits. You went too early and as per my contract with your realm, I offered you a chance. If it makes you feel any better, I always hope you lose.'' Suddenly a ripple emerged in the inky black, a bronzed skinned hand holding the glowing coin peeked through. The hand, arm, and rest of the body stepped through staring at the pair. She was beautiful, bronzed skin, dark eyes, and matching colored hair spilled out like a river over her shoulders and down her back. Thomas was stunned, `` N... Natalie?'' Death merely looked at Thomas, `` You were crying and I called in someone to counsel you.'' Thomas looked confused, `` You never took your hand off mine. How could this be?' Pulling away the spectral bony hand, it merely chuckled, `` You have so much to learn.'' Her soft voice echoed through him as she sat next to Death and held the mortal's hand, `` Ethan, yes I'll always remember you with that name. You must attempt your flip. You were chosen for this. There is no other way.'' Clutching her hand in his; frantic with his retort, `` Bu..but if I do, I'll just win against him again!'' Death mulled over a thought, snapped it's fingers together and spat out, `` Flip against her.'' Natalie looked in Death's direction, `` Pardon me?'' `` Yeah, he flips against you. After all mortal, did n't you just say that I will never win you?'' Thomas/Ethan took the coin from her hand, looking into her eyes, `` What is the wager to this game?'' Chanting the words that first came to him upon his first death. She smiled, `` If I win you come with me, wherever we go from here.'' Thomas/Ethan was about to speak when Death interrupted, `` If you win, mortal, you both go into the abyss and I never deal with you again.'' Death pointed to the inky nothing where the coin was thrown into earlier. Thomas/Ethan steadied himself, flipped the coin, and called for `` Heads''. It landed TAILS, Death could only laugh a deep and dark chuckle. `` Finally, `` Death stood up and offered a hand to Thomas/Ethan, `` Good game Ethan. I'm happy to finally see you lose a contest.'' Death took the form of Ethan's father from back in the Bronze Age, a stout old man with wrinkles around his eyes and no hair on his head, but a big smile flashed across his face. Ethan took the hand, shook it, and smiled at Natalie. She offered a slight rub of his back, directing him to a wonderful, bright, beautiful light, `` Go on love. I'll join you in a second. We shall never part after this.'' Before joining him, Natalie formed into a punk rocker girl with black hair and purple tips, Death shaped into a male version of her form. Natalie smirked at the glowing light, `` So you finally won. After all I'm you right?'' Death shrugged, `` No, but yes, but in a way he was right. I did n't win him. You did Natalie.'' She turned to face him placing her hands on her hips, `` Yes but you did win the contest, right?'' Death nodded, she rolled her eyes, then a thought came to her, `` You called him by name. You did n't say'mortal', why's that?'' Death turned to face the white light, `` Because in the end he played a good game.''
[ WP ] It was a sinister looking tractor .	It was a sinister looking tractor, That much was sure. Charlie thought to himself as it sat there floating in sky illuminated by the full moon. The tractor motor sounded as if it was destroying itself from with in, while its headlights lighted the field with its blood red light. It suddenly charged at Charlie, burning a path of fire from the sky unto the ground, where it left a path of fire behind it, Charlie narrowly dodges it. Charlie quickly recovered to his feet and started to fire shotgun at it. The bullets pelt the Tractor and it squeals in pain. Light can now be seen burning out from where the shot gun hit. Enraged the Tractor Hooks on to a chunk of land and began pulling a huge boulder our of the ground. This was new, Charlie thought to himself. He had seen quite a bit as an Exorcist of inanimate objects, but in his line of work things did tend to stay fresh. Charlie pulled a small glass jar out of his coat and chucked it straight above him. The tractor pulled the boulder at him flying it directly above Charlie, but what must come up must also come down, and the vial comes crashing down on the Tractor as it suddenly explodes in huge explosion of light, obliterating the boulder causing the shrapnel to turn into seeds which almost immediately started to grow. Charlie look to the field, and thought that he was to good to them sometimes. Charlie though was only human, and there for did not have to be so nice. Charlie walked up to the farmer who was still slacked jawed at what he just saw. This is why you do n't `` God damn'' Your farming equipment. He might just take it as an invitation. Charlie then turn to the wife who had only called him to make a point that his tractor was not inhabited by a demon. That will be 350 dollars for the exorcism and another 50 for having to deal with large farm equipment.
[ IP ] The Rise of a Warrior	She remembered the cataclysm. Or rather, she remembered the stories from the watch on the surface, those who had been cursed enough to see their world end; those who had been lucky enough to survive. A star, burning brighter than any other, burned through the sky leaving fire in its wake. The next thing any of those in her clan remembered was how the earth, their home, shook as though the gods were rending it from within. Tunnels collapsed, clods of stone and soil fell from above and buried the great halls, and the gates of the granaries failed, sealing away years of food from past harvests. The heat—the walls of the burrows baked with fire, killing the young who were too weak. Soldiers from the surface scrambled below, screaming for water. And workers, like her mother and father, scraped their paws raw trying to dig deeper to cooler ground. It would be for naught; two thirds of her clan perished in the weeks following the day the heavens sent one of their own to destroy what they had made. With the steel sword firm in her grip, Kenia swung the steel blade through the air and jabbed at invisible targets. Her feet moved swiftly across the dirt, dodging bites and counterattacks from the reptiles she conjured in her mind. As Kenia finished the form, she returned the sword to its beechwood scabbard. It was well-balanced and elegant, and still she felt possessed the weight to cut down a snake twice her size. It was a work of true mastery, given the circumstances of her clan so soon after the cataclysm. In the year since, they had managed to unearth three granaries and a forge, the earth baked hard by the heat of their gods ’ rage that day. The lizards above had teeth and claws sharp as knives, which they used to hunt down her kind and force them deep into the ground. But in their holes, they discovered the gifts of the earth—iron and steel, copper and bronze. With fire, they became tools that built cities and defended them from the predators who ravaged them above. Kenia had traveled with the scouts; she saw that the cataclysm killed many of their enemies, those of scale and feather, even those demons that stood hundreds of their mightiest tall. She had seen their mouths wide agape as they lay rotting on the ground. Their teeth and claws, so effective on furred flesh, seemed useless against a star falling to the earth. The messenger arrived breathless, “ We routed the lizards. The snakes hide in the grass; we ’ ve sent our runners to clear them. What are your orders, commander? ” Kenia paused. Ashes sifted through the air with the sweetly acrid smell of burning grass. At least the fires would repel the birds for now. “ Fifty swords into the grass. The runners won ’ t be enough; the snakes are luring them into their home. The lizards... ” her voice was hoarse from the smoke and shouting orders in the chaos not moments earlier. “ We will pursue them. They are far from home and have nowhere to hide in our land. I will lead the marauders. ” Her word was law. As the messenger sprinted off, Kenia drank deep from her water skin and drew her sword, the same blade she trained with six months before. It was truly a work of mastery, having won her control of her clan and the heads of several snake houses. The sky had chosen her people. They would take back the earth.
[ WP ] `` Do n't laugh . It works . ''	Jake held his elbow upwards and outwards, trying to get a good view of the scrape he had earned by tripping over his shoes this morning. It stung and he winced as he tried to hold the golden bottle steady, watching as the viscous fluid slowly traveled to its pointed end. Before the sweet relief could reach his irritated arm, a heavy knock sounded upon the door. Placing the bottle aside, he checked his phone only to find that it was barely a few minutes past four. He was n't expecting anyone until six. Reluctantly, Jake rose and answered the thudding call only to find that his friend, Michael had arrived early. Very early. “ Hey man! ” Mike said, inviting himself in as Jake tried to keep his injured elbow out of further harm's way. “ What's going on there? Ooh. Nasty. Why do n't you slap a band-aid on it or something? Ca n't be good letting it hang out like that. It's all shiny and stuff too. Ugh. ” “ Hey Mike, go ahead and grab a seat, ” he answered, closing the door behind his friend. “ Just do n't mess with that bottle. I need that stuff. It's supposed to help with wounds like these. I did n't have any peroxide or anything just laying around so I figured I'd give it a try. Ca n't hurt, you know. ” “ Sure, sure. Wait, what is it anyway? ” Mike asked, picking up the bottle and turning it over in his hand as he crashed on the couch. “ Honey? It's even in a bear bottle! Seriously? You believe that Harry Potter stuff? ” “ Man, give me that bottle, ” Jake said, snatching the plastic bear from his friend as he laughed. “ What do you know about Harry Potter anyway? You could n't read through the first chapter. ” Mike stopped laughing suddenly as Jake laughed uproariously, more than pleased by his comeback. Unable to think of anything that would save his pride, Mike turned on the television and began flipping through the channels. Seeing this as his opportunity to pick up where he left off, Jake assumed his earlier position with the bear in hand. The sticky syrup dripped from its head and onto the wound as he winced. Mike tried to seem uninterested, but the scene was too strange for him to remain distracted for long. Slowly he began to giggle once more at the sight of his friend, elbow hoisted in the air, dripping honey onto his glossy wound with mild complaints. “ Do n't laugh man, they say it works, ” Jake said again, remaining focused on the task at hand. A few days later, Jake visited Mike at his house, ringing the door bell. Waiting for several minutes, Jake thought that Mike had n't woken up yet or that he was occupied upstairs. Surprisingly, Michael yelled for Jake to come in on his own as the door was n't locked. A sight far stranger laid behind the closed door as Mike drizzled honey onto his chest. Jake began to laugh, uncertain what else he could do in this situation. Looking closely, he saw that his friend bore no wounds. There were no scratches, scrapes or even bruises to be found. It was just him pouring honey on himself gleefully. “ What are you doing? ” Jake asked. “ Do n't laugh. It's works. For me. ” Mike replied as they both laughed until they cried. -224
[ TT ] In a post apocalyptic town , when human history is for the most part forgotten , and modern technology lost , you 've taken it upon yourself to seek out and salvage the past- to search the endless cities of waste and debris and discover the world that people used to know .	It was strange to think this planet had once been inhabited by humans. It was even more difficult to believe it. The fields were lush, although for as far as his eyes could see, Rem spotted architectural debris lining perimeters that may have once been road infrastructure. Remnants of buildings in the forms of inch-high rusted pipes and shards of scattered glass also peppered the emerald wasteland. `` It's so much prettier than what they said it would be like,'' AMI murmured. `` My database would say otherwise, but it was always hard to think of lush plains. Not when brown wastes seemed more appropriate, when thinking of the results of the Last War...'' Rem turned to his companion then, the lithe Artificial Mankind Intelligence, A.M.I., his lifelong best friend of 23 years. Every Venusian descended from the 13th Colony would recieve an AMI at birth, a tradition that began with their founder, L.S. Liswell. Each inhabitant from that point on had been ensured the promise of companionship and care, and Rem and his AMI were no different. When Rem had been given the unique chance to explore Earth in order to publish his findings for the esteemed Venusian Science publication, he had been offered the chance to bring along any one person. AMIs having recently won humanlike rights, had been counted as taking up that quota; a limitation that was well-received by Rem, in celebration for his best friend. `` It's even more amazing to try and dream up of how this place must have been like,'' Rem added Until the time of the Last War, when Venus and Mars and all of the other planets colonized from Earth had ceded from Earth's rule, rebels in their glory and moment of emotion had gone to far lengths to separate the civilizations. Information had been destroyed, communications purged. a feat to accomplish given Internet-based social links, but back then, Rem had heard, the Venusian population had been small enough to manipulate an entire inhabitants' number of databanks. He did n't doubt it, since all the information he had gleaned about their original home planet had been scarce on factual sources; everything was anecdotal, a mystery in which had long since called for his curiosity. The two began to walk down the jagged pathway crafted from rubble. It felt odd, this planet's gravitational pull. It was much heavier than it was in the colony cities of Venus, biting at his extremities like swaths of weighted water. The pull felt similar to that same kind of heavy liquid as his legs moved through space in advancement of every individual step. It was odd. AMI, having noticed Rem's still present discomfort, reached out a delicate hand to pat at one of his. Rem smiled. Fingers now intertwined, the companions walked on. `` My readings indicate Earthlings averaged at around 5 to 6 feet due to heavier gravity,'' AMI shared lightly, as her white-lit eyes flashed like stars, taking photos of her surroundings. Catching Rem's expression, she smiled before snapping a picture of him, with a happy chirp. `` Smile!'' She beamed. He acquiesced, grinning before his attention was stolen by something off in the distance. `` 5 to 6 feet? That short?'' He mused, as his eyes studied what looked to be a standing skeletal rooftop of a building on the horizon. It looked far too tall to belong to humans of only that height; he himself stood at a short 7'2'' feet, although he imagined he might still grow taller as he aged a little more. The elderly were known for having a second growth spurt as their limbs loosened and muscles lightened. AMI shrugged at him, her own eyes trailing at the building spotted in the distance. She felt a pull of emotion, as her gaze explored the vision in front of her. Was it awe? AMI was uncertain, but it felt meaningful, in a very intense way. `` It's difficult to put this feeling into words,'' she murmured earnestly. She trailed off for a moment, before picking up once more. `` I ca n't really even say I can begin to comprehend that this is really where Venusians originally came from. But here we are. It makes you think about the reasonings the first colonists must have had about certain things, though.'' Interested, Rem turned to her. `` Oh?'' `` Like for instance, daytime and nighttime,'' she pointed out. `` Things taken for granted inside the colonies and underground them, but when travelling outside of those areas, everything is always dark, is n't it? Daylight is always artificial, and so I remember wondering once, why we chose to program 24 hour days. Why sunrise would occur at approx. 5:42 AM every single day.'' Understanding her meaning as well as the source of her awe, Rem nodded appreciatively. `` Hardly even noticed that it was happening here just the same as home, but without the glass skies powering the skylights,'' he admitted. `` Well, most of our foundations were built on things we most likely forgot the reasons for,'' she offered. Rem nodded, thoughtful. According to his optical map, they were currently on the west coast of a continent nestled near a tropical ocean. It was all the info he could glean from the markings, as no other information had been added. He began to mourn the history lost between the two peoples. His ancestors had once populated only this tiny planet, before they had scattered themselves amongst the amazing sea of stars. It had all begun here however, but records had been destroyed and subsequently lost, at least amongst those still residing in the Milky Way. Yet here he was, first among hopefully many more to explore the ancestral home of every human being still alive today. He meant to make the most of it, as he eagerly continued his exploration, hands still intertwined with his AMI's. The day passed itself by rapidly, and soon night descended upon them. Lodging inside a capsule home which burrowed itself snugly into the dirt, about two levels down, Rem and AMI began sharing notes with one another via mental uploads of scanned orbital data and auditory files. `` We have 98 more days here,'' AMI spoke up. `` We'll make good use of them,'' came Rem's confident reply. `` I do n't doubt that,'' she smiled. `` Still, what are your goals for this trip, Rem? The 13th Colony's requests were technically simply to explore and report back any findings of interest for publication. Apart from drones, we're the first things from Venus to come down here!'' `` Are the drones still here?'' Suddenly Rem felt curious at the notion. `` A few,'' AMI supplied. `` Most are hibernating, though. More resources were put into our trip here. The drones still awake have begun mapping the area, although we wo n't come across any during our stay. I noticed they were programmed recently with orders to stay away, in order for us to feel true novelty in our experience.... Disappointed, Rem?'' AMI sounded surprised. Rem had to admit that he was, however. Drones meant someone was piloting them, and there was a small part in his psyche somewhat forlorn at feeling like one of only two inhabitants of such a vast world... ( Tbc? It's a very fun world to write.: )
[ WP ] You are the first parent to allow your unborn child to be genetically engineered to gain a higher IQ . Everything 's great , until they reach the age of 13 . That 's when the side effects kick in .	`` Bobbie, put down your grandmother!'' said Cynthia in a stern voice. Grandma was levitating around the room, clearly enjoying herself. `` Oh, come on, Cindy, we are just playing!'' said grandma. `` Are you crazy? He is the first person in the world to develop psychic powers, you are not supposed to play with them, who knows what can happen?'' `` Ma, I'm the smartest person in the world. I've just completed incorporating gravity into the timeless decision theory, cut me some slack, I want to play.'' `` But you are levitating a person!!'' `` I'm just experimenting with my Null-wave radiation device, and clearly it's working.'' `` Oh, Bobbie, why ca n't you just be like all the normal kids'' said Cynthia.
[ WP ] On your 35th birthday you receive a super power . Every year thereafter you get stronger . What are you doing with your power at 40 ?	Just as Charlie was heading to the showers, he could n't help but look back at the far comer of the gym. There, he could see a bunch of elderly folk hooting and hollering as a 90-year old grandpa lifted a 250 kilo dumbbell with just one hand. `` Those lucky guys.'' he thought, `` If only my power was also super strength.'' As Charlie turned on the steaming water, he reflected back on his 35th birthday. He was so excited to finally gain a power of his own. As the clock struck 4:25 a.m. ( his time of birth ), he felt a mysterious energy well up inside of him. Charlie instantly tried to test himself, only to find out that he was n't super strong, did n't have psychic powers, could n't teleport, or even levitate. No, he discovered that his long-awaited power was, in simple terms, balancing objects. Charlie could instantly balance any object he desired, regardless of its shape and size. This was an interesting power, to say the least. But in a world of invisible men, hyper intelligent geniuses, and flying people, it was certainly a very tame one. Charlie did notice one interesting thing though; every passing year, he was able to balance an additional thing on top of the first one. Of course, he did n't think this was much use. It served as a neat parlor trick at a bar or as a way to relieve boredom at work. The highlight of his day was the look on a coworkers face when he/she/attack helicopter saw a potted plant balanced on a rotating chair on one leg. But this day at the gym was an important day for Charlie. It was his 40th birthday, and it was the day the earth fell out of balance ( orbit ). This is The beginning of the legendary superhero, The World-Balancer.
[ WP ] Unbeknownst to you , your kid allows a homeless man to spend the night on your sofa . Then the unthinkable happens .	Michigan Nonotthestate finally had his lucky break. A young boy had invited him to crash on his father's sofa for the night, as a brief respite from the bitter cold. Small comfort by itself, but the boy had also promised Michigan that his father was quite wealthy and extremely generous towards the homeless. The couch was, admittedly, only slightly more comfortable than his usual bed of cardboard and bubble wrap. However, it was far warmer, so Michigan could n't complain. He quickly dozed off. -- - In the middle of a pleasant dream about dogs made of butter, Michigan awoke with a start. He glanced at the wall clock. 1:17 AM. `` Well, slap me sideways and call me Joan Jett,'' he moaned. `` I appear to have done the unthinkable whilst I slept.'' As he laid back down to wallow in his latest foible, he heard a man's voice from behind the sofa. `` This is unbeknownst to me! ``, the man cried. `` And now it is beknownst. Also, I did the unthinkable, so I'd appreciate a towel, a deck of cards, and three Canadian toonies,'' replied Michigan. The man, who Michigan surmised to be the young boy's father, performed an almost beautifully timed double take. `` What do you mean, you did the unthinkable?'' `` Sir. What, exactly, do you think I mean?'' Upon attempting to think of the unthinkable, the boy's father immediately shut down, because I forgot to mention that everybody is robots in this story.
[ WP ] So what made the Bloop ?	Bloop. A single distant consonant, created thousands of miles away by the clicking mandibles of something that could only exist in this abyss. The thing sat in baited breath, feeling the sound wave travel across the entire world, feeling the echolocated map of the new world. The continents were different now. It rose. Centuries of decay slid of its oily back. Mud that outdated most civilizations fell free as the mile-high creature arose from its earthen imprisonment. Not a second after it freed itself, it shot to the surface. Air. It was so dirty now. The creature tools it's first breath for the first time in a while. Lungs filled, the thing reared back his head and bellowed `` IMMA NEED TREE FIDDY!''
[ WP ] `` What do you believe in ? ''	I stayed silent. He asked me again, `` What do you believe in?'' Silence. He punched me across my face. He asked the question again. `` Demons'' I responded, trying to make a joke. Bad Idea. His next blow sent me face first into the ground, and soon blood was mixed with the grit of the floor. `` Fine. I believe in God.'' Before I could say another word, his gun was pressed against my temple, and for the first time I had a good look at the swastika tattooed on his bicep. `` Say that again, and I'll paint the walls with your brains''. I forced back a smile. He may be crazy, but he sure as hell was n't original. `` You're gon na kill me?'' I asked. `` You wan na find out?'' I spat at his feet. He let out an angry yell and pulled the trigger. click Confused, he looked down at his weapon. Before he got a chance to take a closer look, he was interrupted by the Spec Ops team that had just broken down his door. Within minutes, he was arrested, read his rights and sitting in a squad car. I thanked the commander for his work, and the lawyers were more than pleased that they got a confession on tape. That extremist bastard had killed more than 20 people. 20 people, including my wife. The lawyers may be looking forward to suing him, but he would n't survive long enough to wipe his ass the next morning. My friend who had an unhealthy interest in poisons had lent him a agent which he had made himself. It only required to be applied on the skin, and would seep into it and result in multiple organ failure within a few hours. For four hours, I had hid that thing in his mouth. 4 hours, just to wait for that moment. But it was worth it. The next morning, the headlines were as I expected. Died of mysterious circumstances, the usual b.s. The cops would investigate, find nothing, and move on. Just like they did with my wife. I grimaced at the thought of killing innocent cops, but they did n't grimace when they saw her body. As I opened fire in the police department, I did n't feel a thing as the bullets ripped through my body. This was the peace I desired.
[ WP ] After too many ridiculous and lengthy lawsuits dominate the world 's courts , the world leaders decided to pass a law to remove all warning labels . The Darwin Act has just been passed .	As congress passed their most cold blooded bill yet, the darwin bill, two angels of death, cloaked in black, felt their blood spray in excitement. Natural selection had just been put into motion, as the shorter one let out a horrible cackle, chocked on his blood, and decended to earth. In the first day, hundreds had died in what he had called `` dumbass'' accidents. One had died drinking bleach. 20 because of smoking at a gas station. Within a month, only the common sense had survived. The world was better, even. Despite the blood, the carnage, the hell that had been wrought, the world was better off. Some even say the governments of the world had been behind it in a sort of eugenics. Whatever the start was, the world was better off without them
[ TT ] Magic is real , but no one cares because technology has made it obsolete . At a public park , two old-timers sit down to play a weekly game of chess . `` Damn kids these days with their cell phones and internets , '' one says , `` Why in my day ... ''	`` Magic is real, but no one cares because technology has made it obsolete. At a public park, two old-timers sit down to play a weekly game of chess. `` Damn kids these days with their cell phones and internets,'' one says, `` Why in my day...'''' `` Why in my day I could do this,'' said Jerry as he quickly stood up from the chess table and pulled out a long black collapsible wand from his back pocket. `` Abra-Cadabra!'' Jerry screamed as he flicked his wrist and pointed his wand at a group of three little kids sitting on a nearby bench playing with their iPads. A bright blue stream of light shot out of the tip of Jerry's wand and made contact with one of the kid's heads, making it violently explode all over the place like a squished tomato. `` Holy shit Jerry!'' Frank screamed in terror as he pulled out his iPhone 6s from his front coat pocket to call the police. `` What are you doing Frank? Do n't you know magic is real?'' Jerry said with a sinister grin on his face. In a blink of an eye, Jerry pointed his wand at Frank's iPhone and made it fly out of his hands up into the sky at great speed. `` My god Jerry, you've gone mad with power!'' a visibly frightened Frank whimpered. Frank quickly stood up, flipping over the chess table in a panic, and started frantically running in a random direction. `` Help! Someone call 911! This guys killing little kids with magic!'' Frank screamed as frightened kids and parents took cover in the park. Jerry rose his wand in the air and stood very tall in the direction Frank was running. `` Ala-Cazoo!'' Jerry shouted as a large, man-size electric green looking soap bubble formed at the tip of his wand and rapidly drifted towards Frank's direction. `` Noooo!'' screamed a frightened Frank as the giant green bubble pushed against his body, trapping him inside. `` Get me out of here!'' Frank yelled as the bubble started floating off into the air with him still inside. Most of the frightened people in the park were recording the terrifying scene with their smartphone cameras. Jerry looked around at all the people with their stupid technology then started yelling in a deep, angry voice, `` You simple minded imbeciles with your iPods and Nintendo 360s. Do n't you know that there's magic in the world? Why do n't any of you care? I'll show you all what magic is capable of!'' Jerry started twirling his wand in a fast circular motion in the air above his head while levitating about 5 feet off the ground. Without warning, everyone's phones and iPads that they were using to record in the park flew out of their hands and starting orbiting Jerry while he levitated. Suddenly, at least a dozen police cars showed up along with a SWAT team. They quickly established a perimeter around Jerry who was still levitating with at least a hundred cellphones orbiting him. Officers hid behind their cars, keeping their distance from Jerry with their weapons drawn and aimed right at him. A man in a long black suit with a dark blue tie stepped out of one of the police cars, picked up a megaphone and started talking, `` Jerry, I'm Detective Jim with the New York City police department. We understand you're confused and angry right now, but there's no reason to terrorize and kill these innocent people out enjoying the beautiful weather here in Central Park today.'' `` Oh, but you do n't understand detective,'' a frustrated Jerry barked back. `` You're technology filled world is gon na end!'' Jerry could hear the loud sounds of a propeller engine above. A CNN helicopter hovered overhead with Anderson Cooper in it filming and reporting on the chaotic scene below in the park. Jerry took a deep breath and started screaming really loud for a long time, causing his gray beard to fall off. A giant electromagnetic pulse came hurling outwards from deep within Jerry's body in a rapidly growing spherical shape, quickly encompassing the park, then the entire state, the country, and eventually the world. Computers shut off, airplanes fell out of the sky, cars stopped working, anything electronic had now ceased to work due to Jerry releasing a world wide EMP. Detective Jim and everyone else in the park were knocked to the ground due to the explosive shockwave generated by Jerry's magic. Detective Jim looked in the direction of where Jerry was levitating just moment's ago to see the crumpled body of the old man laying motionless on the ground. Jerry had died from a heart attack brought on by poor eating choices he made earlier on in his life. Detective Jim pulled out his iPhone only to see a black, cracked screen. He tossed his phone to the ground then looked up at the plane-less sky and said, `` Now begins the dawn of a new age for man.'' Unfortunately for Frank, there was no more helicopters or any other means to reach him as he slowly floated up, up, up into the sky, gaining more altitude every minute. He eventually reached the upper layers of the Stratosphere, where he froze to death due to poor insulation in the magical bubble.
[ WP ] All that was keeping them out was a thin sheet of stained glass .	The air burned through my lungs as I gulped down quick angry breaths. My feet beat the ground matching the quick staccato pattern of my sister's own sprinting. She hit the chain link fence and vaulted over it nimbly. I was n't as smooth, and it took me some scrambling to land on the other side. `` Come on!'' My sister shouted at me from the end of the ally, but I took a quick glance back. Our pursuers were close behind us, and I could only pray that the fence slowed them down. I turned and ran after my sister, and together we continued our flight down the dirty streets. I did n't need to look at my sister to know that we were both thinking the same thing. They were faster than us, but we knew these streets. We grew up in the alleys of Earth's capital, watching the sky cars zip over our heads among the glimmering lights of the towering skyscrapers. For orphan kids, there are really only two options, you join one of the gangs or get hunted by them. It had always just been me and her since the beginning, and that's how we agreed it would stay. We did n't trust other people, and the average lifespan for those in a gang were short to say the least. So, we depended on each other. Honed our skills of distraction and deception to steal, bribe, lie, and cheat our way in the world and get what we needed. It had worked well for us. We had gotten a pretty good hideout set up and were living pretty comfortably, but I guess it was n't enough for her. She kept mentioning more and more often how she thought we should join the military. She said it would get us off the streets. Give us a purpose. Living my life free from the gangs and the way I want is enough of a life for me, but maybe it's not for her. The thought of her one day leaving me behind to pursue another life made my chest hurt and not just because of my shortened breaths. Maybe if we managed to escape the latest gang hunt, I'd actually consider joining with her. I was so distracted I almost missed the turn into the underground. Luckily, she grabbed my arm pulling me down the stairs at a stumbling pace. `` What's wrong with you?'' She scolded, panting, her brown eyes squinting at me angrily. I mumbled out a brief apology before the sounds of shouting and foot steps began following us down the steps. I cursed as we took off again. I did n't want to join the military, but the gangs were making it painfully obvious that we could n't keep living this way. They became more and more aggressive in hunting us these past few weeks. This was the most persistent they'd ever been. We crisscrossed our way through the confusing maze of the underground tunnels. As Earth evolved, mankind had built their new cities on top of the old. Leading to a labyrinth of dusty ruined cities that no one could remember the name of. We fell in love with them, and made them home to our hideout. We were heading down one of our favorite routes. It was quick, and if we did it right, we could lose them. `` There they are! Get them!'' We heard one of them shout as we broke through the large wooden doors of an old church. We darted through a side door, and out the back where we paused to push a big stone pillar over it, and just in time since we could hear them banging on it from the other side. We turned from the building to clamber over an old bridge. Our hideout was on the other side. As long as we got over this bridge, we'd be home free. It was a rickety old thing, and we had to move over it one at a time. I watched anxiously as my sister crawled across to the other side. It made me nervous every time. If the bridge snapped with her on it, I do n't know what I'd do. She waved to me when she was safe on the other side, and I began my journey over it carefully, trying not to wobble too much as it creaked underneath me. That was when I heard a loud shout, and I turned to see the group that had been chasing us. They stood still inside the old church, staring at us through a thin stained glass window. The faded yellows and blues of the mural played over their angry faces as they yelled at us. That faded image, a fragile sheet of aged colored glass, was all that was keeping them from us. I saw a man raise his gun, and in a moment that single barrier vanished into a shimmering pile of broken hopes. I looked back at my sister. She was shaking her head. She knew what I was thinking, and she was begging me not to. `` I love you, but it's time for you to live for you now.'' I smiled at her, taking in one last glimpse of her shinning brown eyes before using my knife to sever the ropes below me. The bridge creaked angrily before snapping in two right as one of the men grabbed me by the back of the neck. The wind rushed past my ears, and I could hear her screaming above me. I closed my eyes and pictured her brown eyes shining at me from a military uniform. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to live the life that she deserved.
[ WP ] In a world where magic and technology coexist , a wizard calls tech support regarding his `` broken '' computer .	`` Hello?'' `` Bobby? It's your dad. James.'' `` Hi, Dad, I know your name, you do n't need to introduce yourself. What's up?'' `` I'm trying to get this new Grimoire to work and I'm having some troubles.'' `` OK, what kind of troubles?'' `` I do n't know, whenever I set it down and try to start my incantations, nothing happens.'' `` Do you have it in Casting Mode?'' `` What's that?'' `` Well remember, Dad, this is n't just a spell book, the Grimoire is a computer too, so if you want to cast a spell you have to set it to Casting Mode. Remember I showed you how to do that when I was up the other day?'' `` I do n't see a Casting Mode button, how do I do that?'' `` Look for Settings.'' `` I do n't see a Settings.'' `` Tell me what you do see?'' `` I see an Incantations button... iScry... Calendar...'' `` OK, you're at the main screen. Try swiping left.'' `` It wo n't let me swipe left.' ``... Try swiping right?'' `` Nope.'' `` Do you have it locked?'' `` I do n't know, how do I check?'' `` Well on mine it's in Settings, but I have a Grimoire 2... you sure you do n't see Settings anywhere?'' `` Nope, I've got Incantations, iSc...'' `` Nevermind. Listen, let's try setting up a remote viewing session and I can take a look with you.'' `` Well I'd love to, but I need my damn spell book to cast it on my end!'' `` No, not magic remote viewing, through the computer. I can start it from my end, just look for a prompt on the screen. Do you see anything yet?'' `` It says Do I Want To Allow Or Refuse the connection?'' `` You want to Allow, tap that button.'' `` OK....all right now the finger is moving on it's own.'' `` Yeah, that's me, I got connected.'' `` It's not a possession then? This is n't a demon doing this?'' `` No Dad, it's me. Look, right here in the corner, here's the Settings.'' `` That says Settings and Reagents, I did n't think that was right.'' ``... Sorry, my fault Dad. Anyway, watch me now. I tap on Settings AND REAGENTS...'' `` OK, hold on, let me write this down. Settings and Reagents, Mr. Scientist...'' ``... and then you tap on Operation Mode, and see this slider here, you choose either Computer or Casting. You want Casting.'' ``... Operation Mode....Casting. Got it.'' `` But remember, you need to switch it back once you're done casting. Otherwise Mom wo n't be able to play Angry Harpys.'' `` So I go back into Settings and Reagents to switch it back.'' `` Right. But you'll have to hit the Home button to exit out of the Spell Book.'' `` Where's the Home button, show me that.'' `` I ca n't Dad, it's the physical button on the Grimoire.'' `` You mean at the top here?'' `` NOthatsthe....power button.'' `` What happened, it turned off.'' `` Yeah Dad, you hit the power button.'' `` Oh....How do I turn it back on, hit the power button again?'' `` Yeah, Dad. Hit the power button, and follow the instructions you just wrote down.'' `` OK... well, I ca n't. The notebook ran away.'' `` It... ran away?'' `` Your mother tried to animate the vacuum again, and....well things are a little hectic right now. Will you show me how to get to the Settings again? I do n't see a Settings.'' `` I'm hanging up now, Dad.'' `` Wait, was it Operation Mode or Occulus Setup?'' `` Get your old spellbook out of the attic, Dad. Goodbye.''
[ WP ] You are 90 % certain your waiter is Hitler .	`` Hallo,'' a voice said to Justin's left. `` Are you ready to order?'' `` Er, yes,'' Justin said, staring at the menu. He was n't quite sure what he wanted, between his usual favorite or the soup of the day. He decided to play it safe. `` The southwest chicken sounds good. Is it okay if I take it to go?'' He folded up the menu and glanced up at the waiter to hand it back, but he was scribbling down Justin's order. Justin, meanwhile, took the moment to take in the man's appearance. Slightly jowly, with neatly parted brown hair, the man, in his mid thirties, did not particularly stand out. Except for the small, square mustache, and a strange resemblance to a much younger Adolf Hitler. The waiter finished writing down Justin's order and took the menu from him. `` Thank you,'' Justin said quietly. The waiter smiled and said that his order would be right out. As he walked away, Justin pulled out his phone to text his girlfriend. hey, did hitler always have that little mustache? He looked back up. The waiter was taking a couple's order, and they did n't seem to be acting strange. Other than a few other patrons, the small corner restaurant was empty- Justin was picking up a late lunch after work. Ping. He glanced back down at the reply. i do n't know, why? did that trivia game ask you? It pinged again. did you grab the movie? nah, just wondering. not yet, he typed back. `` Here you are, sir,'' a deep voice said above him. `` That'll be $ 8.28.'' `` Oh!'' Justin said, startled. He looked back up at the waiter, and found he could n't look him in the eye. He just kept staring at that little mustache. `` Is n't it still on a five dollar lunch spe-'' He stopped. He decided not to argue with Hitler today. `` No, the special ends at two,'' the waiter replied, the mustache bobbing up and down. `` Ah.'' Justin blinked. `` Okay.'' He reached into his pocket for his wallet, wondering what he could say to this guy. `` You, uh- you look familiar. Do I know you? Did you-'' Justin struggled to think of something Hitler would do, other than cause the Holocaust. `` Were you in that art show a couple of weeks ago?'' The waiter visibly brightened. `` I was! Did you see me there?'' he asked, smiling. `` Uh, yeah, I think so. Did you do the one with the trees and the stairs and the door?'' `` I did! Did you like it?'' `` Yeah, it was a great piece.'' Justin bit his lip, uncomfortable with complimenting Hitler. `` Thank you! I'm trying to get into art school, but they did n't seem to like it.'' The waiter smiled at him again, and the mustache curled up a little. `` You know, I think it was great. Hey, I did n't catch your name.'' Justin said. `` Adolf. Adolf Hitler. I have a website, you should look!'' `` Oh,'' Justin said, mind racing. `` Oh. Yeah! I will. And you know what, man? I think you really need to concentrate on your art, you know? Like, people will want you to go into other careers and stuff, but I think you show real talent. I'd say you do n't even need art school. Just keep painting. Like, forever. Never do anything else. Anything.'' Hitler pursed his lips. `` That's very kind, thank you. I really do enjoy it.'' `` Uh, yeah man.'' Justin dug a twenty out of his wallet. `` Here you go.'' `` Thank you, sir. Let me go make you change-'' `` Oh, I do n't need it. You keep it. For your art,'' Justin said, shuffling toward the door. `` Oh- thank you! Have a great day!'' the waiter said happily. `` Oh, yeah, you too, man,'' Justin said as he opened the door to leave. No way he was stiffing Hitler on a tip.
[ WP ] `` The feeling of the cold is all the warmth I have now.. ''	`` The feeling of the cold is all the warmth I have now,'' he says matter-of-factly. I think it sounds a little emo, even for him. I lean back in my chair in response. I guess it's my body's way of saying this is gon na get hairy. `` What do you mean, Peter?'' I ask, taking a sip of my milky tea and trying to sound concerned instead of annoyed. `` How can I feel happiness again, Jane? Her warmth was keeping me alive. I ca n't do this anymore.'' He answers, leaning forward. I take a moment to study his body: his shoulders are slumped, his eyes are tired and puffy... Perhaps this is real and not just a ploy for attention like the last few times. I clear my throat. `` Well, uh, Peter, there are so many good women...'' But I let myself trail off. I see something flit through the hallway. `` Do you have a dog or is someone else here?'' I ask, craning my neck to see what it could have been. He shrugs. `` Nah. That's just Kelly. He likes to know what I'm up to. Heather hated him.'' He responds, rubbing his face as if to bring life back into it. `` What, uh, is he?'' I ask offhandedly. `` Just a spirit. Not malevolent. I thought you'd have come across him by now. Maybe he does n't like you. He loved to bug Heather. It is part of the reason she left. But I ca n't afford a new place and Kel is like family so...'' He puts his hands up in the air and lets them slam down on the table. I gulp. `` I, uh, must have thought you were joking if you told me before. Or I was drunk. We used to drink so much.'' I say apprehensively as I stare at the hallway. `` Kel hates drinking in his house. He had an alcoholic father thay used to kick the fuck out of him.'' Peter says with a rather glassy stare, looking at something behind me. `` Is he-'' I motion with my thumb behind me. I'm stuck in fear. I feel a cool breeze wash over me. `` Yeah. He's taken a shining to you, I think. He was n't sure at first. He wants you to help me. For real this time.'' Peter replies, taking a sip of his cranberry juice. `` How do you know all of this? You're not screwing with me, are you?'' I ask, looking behind me and seeing nothing. `` I can hear him in my head. I see him all the time but he only lets others see him when he is feeling they need to. He has my best interest at heart. He thought Heather was a bitch.'' Peter says. `` I'm not cool with this, Pete. Make him go away.'' I say, trying not to visibly shiver. `` I ca n't. This is just the way it is now.'' He answers, his eyes still looking glassy. `` Okay, I'm scared to shit now. No wonder Heather left!'' I say, getting up suddenly. I immediately regret what I said. `` You'' is all he gets out before he just shakes his head and starts to cry. I want to comfort him. I really do. I am thoroughly creeped out, though. I keep seeing this man in my head. I think Kelly is trying to communicate with me. `` I'm sorry!'' I cry out before I run to the door. I swear I hear heavy, lumbering steps behind me so I do n't look back. As soon as I get out of the house I feel better. I open my car and sit in it. I open my phone and decide I need to calm down before I drive. I start to play a game of Smash Land. I'm winning until I hear a knock at my window. I jump and look up. Pete is standing there with a large man in tow. I put my window down. `` What?'' Is all I can manage to say. I eye the large man. He looks exactly like the Kelly I saw in my head. `` It was all suggestion, Jane. Kel is real as you or me but he has a gift. He can implant thoughts in times of high emotion.'' Peter says, smiling a strange and goofy smile. `` Did you lie about Heather?'' I choke out, more scared now that I was before. `` No. But is n't it great, Jane?'' He says, leaning on the car. I start my car and put up my window. I start to peel out of the driveway and hear Kelly say in a deep, inhuman voice `` How bout you do n't be a bitch like Heather and let us play with you some more. You never help Pete like you should.'' I get out of the driveway and out of view of the house. But I can still see Pete in my head. Those glassy eyes. That goofy grin. I tried to help but it's way beyond my power now. I pull into my driveway and walk up to my door. I hear heavy footsteps lumbering behind me. I turn around and feel myself go white. Kel is standing at the end of my driveway. `` I'm not really here. Just wanted to let you know you ca n't just leave like Heather did, you cunt. I'll see you again whenever I want.'' Kel says in his monstrous voice. Then he laughs deeply. I pass out.
[ WP ] Equivalent Exchange is the absolute law in the universe you live in . If you gain something , you will lose something equivalent in value , and vice versa . One day , you won a $ 10 billion lottery . You try to find out what price you have paid .	`` Why would I want a lottery ticket? If I win, the universe is gon na fuck me! ``, was what I had yelled at my wife when she handed me the birthday card with the Powerball slipinside. She said it was meant to be a romantic gesture, because all the numbers had some significance to our life together. I really did n't care to hear about the numbers asinine relationship to my life, so I just told her to shut up and ahovelled cake in my mouth. These little romantic token ideas spread out through Facebook and Pinterest pages annoyed me. I do n't know why, but probably because it led to a wave of these uninteresting wife's doing these stupid little gestures. I'd seen her share the one about `` Give your hubby ( another word that overly annoyed him ) a lotto ticket with significant numbers!'' the previous week. I had n't `` liked'' it. These stupid ideas spread like wildfire, and before you know if, the Powerball is up to ten billion dollars that no one wants!
[ TT ] As he slept , she dreamed .	Night came quietly as she sat upon the hard, cold bench in the tower, locked away from the world with little more than barred windows allowing her to see the change that happened around her. She marveled as the setting sun and the moon that rose in its place. The exchange of large white clouds for glimmering stars that were as numerous as her questions about the world. These late nights were precious to her, they were the only hours of peace that she saw in a day. Her hands and feet were chained to the floor by cumbersome links that she took years for her to ignore. Clenching the smooth steel rails that lined her outlet to the world, she stared off into the distance. Tasha dreamt not of kingdoms, castles, and knights in shining armor. She had little interest in the opulence of a palace or servants that could cater to her every whim. Her interests lie in the verdant forest that lie just beneath the tower. The misty mountains that sat sleepily along the horizon. The rivers and lakes that broke up these landscapes. She wanted to see the world. Many years locked away in a six by six circular cell had instilled this desire within her. Outside of her keeper, she saw no one, man, woman, or child. Aside from the occasional songbird, gull, or deer, she saw no other living thing. Her years were wiled away sewing and weaving ornate crafts with which her captor made his living. A dull ache settled in her finger tips, she had often pierced or scratched them during these projects. Her hands were always working. Even when she had no assignment, she felt of the stone and the metal, of her clothes and herself. Her sense of touch was beginning to wane as the injuries piled up. Each design she mastered was simply met with a more complicated task of which she reaped no reward. Many nights she stayed up plotting her escape. Would she distract the man and slip out of the door? Would she push him down the stairs and follow behind with swift kicks to keep him bowling downward? Perhaps a knitting needle would find its way into his neck one day that he had pushed her too far. Tasha dreamed of many things in her few placid moments before forcing herself to sleep. As she drew the torn, soiled, and patched fabric around her frame, she stretched out upon the stone slab. Staring at the dark ceiling partially illuminated by the moon light, sleep came upon her. Her body remained there, but her mind slipped through the gaps between the bars. An ethereal form that allowed her to escape if only for moment. She ran between the trees, kicking up leaves as she spun between the coarse poles. Diving headlong into the rivers, she swam with the fish and stirred up the sediment along the riverbed simply to know what it felt like. Shedding her wet clothes, she sprinted for the crisp clean air of the mountains where she stood upon their peaks and sang songs of her freedom. It was only in the morning when a familiar voice shouted out to her that she returned to that tiny room to realize that it was only a dream. -246
[ WP ] You plan to commit the perfect murder . The only problem is , that your victim is a psychic .	In a dark room sits a dark menacing figure. He throws his hunting knife up and catches it by the handle on its way back down. `` How long....how many failures...'' The man who sat was a professional, damn near the best. But this one individual had proven to be a check he just could n't cash. `` He's some entitled brat with more money than sense... so then why... why ca n't I even lay a FINGER ON HIM?!'' As the man roared, he gripped the tip of his knife between his index finger and thumb, then loosed it straight into the wall in front of him. The knife had sunk perfectly into a picture of his target. The target was Oliver Quill, a self proclaimed psychic. `` Psychic my ass. Ai n't no such thing in this world... ghosts, magic... it's all some goddamn smoke and mirrors!'' Truthfully the hitman wanted to believe more than anything that this boy really truly were a psychic. Then he would have an excuse... but Isaac Massani does n't make excuses. This one maxim was what he believed in more than anything else. `` This time, Quill... I'll bleed ya dry from yer damn neck!'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- A boy in his late twenties sat on a chair in the middle of an open room. He had dark circles around his eyes, he was exhausted and most importantly he had become gaunt from a lack of eating. `` Come and get me then... I'll know where you're coming from... you'll be back... you always come back...'' This boy was Massani's target, Oliver Quill. Tick... tock... tick... tock. Oliver began to rock back and forth in the chair to the rhythm of his deceased father's antique clock. There was no doubt in his mind, after weeks of this back and forth with a trained assassin constantly invading his home, that he was beginning to go mad. `` Think... think, Oliver... never stop thinking... He never stops thinking about ways to kill me... He wants my dad's money... money... He wants... money.'' Suddenly he stopped rocking in his chair. He had just come up with the perfect solution! Oliver shot up from his chair in a frenzy of maniacal laughter. `` Tonight... I'm ending this...'' -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Later that night, Oliver patiently laid in wait for his assailant. Once the assassin was in range for Oliver to read his thoughts, their final confrontation would begin. ``... He's here.'' Two shots were fired from the second floor. Oliver dove off behind a marble pillar and called out, `` Massani! Hear me out!'' Three more shots connected with the pillar he was taking cover on, followed by a gruff `` Piss off, Quill!'' After taking a deep breath, Oliver removed his glasses and slid them into his shirt pocket. `` He's gon na be difficult to reason with...'' Just as he finished his thought, Oliver had an idea. `` If he's not gon na listen to reason, then... Hey Massani! Your aim seems off today!'' Isaac was ordinarily not one for falling for cheap taunts, but rage had clouded his judgment. Isaac's response was to holster his firearm and loose his hunting knife. The assassin then leapt from the second floor and rolled across the marble floor on the first, charging in at the pillar Oliver had taken cover on. `` Bet you I wo n't miss with this ya little pissant!'' Massani moved around the pillar, driving the knife toward where Quill should have been. However, being that Oliver was always a step ahead of Isaac, he had already moved to place his attack in a hold. `` Listen to me, Massani! You need me dead, and I need whoever hired you to think I'm dead, so let's strike a deal here!'' The struggling Isaac stopped, and responded. `` You hopin' I'll agree to help you fake yer death then?'' `` Honestly? Yes.'' Oliver stepped back from Massani, praying for the best. `` Ordinarily I'd tell ya to get fucked, but... as long as I get payed and ai n't never got ta see yer face again... I'd be willing to accept a stalemate....'' For the first time in nearly twenty days, Oliver dropped his guard in front of the man who had been incessantly trying to kill him, only to find the man's knife stuck into his mouth. All Oliver could do is stiffen up, sweat and look into Massani's eyes with a look of disgust. `` Oh relax, I ai n't gon na kill ya. I at least have some honor left as a man...'' Using the knife to wedge Oliver's molar loose, Isaac took the tooth in hand and began to walk for the door. `` Farewell, Quill. Hope I never bloody see ya again. Oh, and you might wan na vacate. I'm burning your house down.'' The two men ultimately went their seperate ways. Isaac was able to retain his perfect record, and Oliver Quill disappeared from the world that day.
[ OT ] Looking to develop your characters ? Here 's 100 questions you could ask them to get to know them better .	this is great but every time I try to do something like this I get bored halfway through and stop. SO MANY QUESTIONS. and some of them are really hard. some of them I do n't even think I could answer about myself. this is the short version I use that I stole from somewhere on the internet. honestly, though, I think the best way to get to know characters is to write about them- not necessarily in a Real Story, but just doing random stuff like going to the store or waking up after a bad dream. lots of great little details can come out that way. A. Are you a boy or a girl? B. How old are you? C. YOU WANT A HUG?? XD D. You got any bad habits? E. Favourite food? F. Favourite Ice cream flavor? G. Who's your mate/spouse? H. You a virgin? I. Killed anyone? J. Hate anyone? K. Any secrets? L. Favourite season? M. Who's your best friend? N. Hobbies? O. Favourite Drink? P. When's your birthday? Q. What age did you die and why? ( I've debated about taking this question out but I've gotten a couple really cool answers from it so I keep it. ) R. Are you nice or mean? S. What's your greatest ambition? T. How many kids do you have? U. What were you known as and who gave you that name? V. What do you think of Christmas? W. Any tattoos or piercings? If so, what and where are they? X. What would you say is your biggest weakness? Y. Do you enjoy dates? Z. Most cherished thing you currently own? if you're really into answering questions about your characters those `` ask me'' things that float around tumblr have some good stuff too. I know it's not using them for their intended purpose but I've thought about it a few times.
[ WP ] Today is your first support group meeting for a very unusual and seemingly harmless addiction . This is your introduction speech about how it completely ruined your life .	Hi. Hi? Hello? Hey. Is this thing SQUAWK Okay. Yes. Hi. My name is David Windom and I have been a compulsive shoelace tier for... well, all my life, I guess. But, uh, actually finally diagnosed a year ago this Friday. Thank you. Yeah. Compulsive Shoelace Tying has completely ruined my life. My wife left me. She just could n't... she could n't take any more of it. Just... you know... everyday, she's trying to get to work and I'm down there... on the floor... just messing with those laces. Trying to get everything just right. She tried. Bless her, she tried. Went slip-ons. Went Velcro for a bit. But, you know, it just was n't the same. I ca n't keep a job. You know, just... late every single day. I keep looking for a job that lets me wear sandals but that's like... lifeguard and not really anything else. And I do n't swim so good, so... I've been arrested... uh... 39 times now for various kinds of harassment. Just ended a 30 day run at county for knocking down a police officer just so I could... ( Quiet sobbing ) ... Just so I could re-tie his laces just a bit tighter. They were just... they could of come loose any second! I mean - how's anyone supposed to be upholding the law or chasing down bad guys with laces like that? I think it was entrapment, if I'm being honest. I think it was a set-up, but you just... No. No, I'm sorry. See? That's the CST talking again. I ca n't just... like you, ma'am. There in the front row? You got those pink sneakers on. Single knot, right? That's flimsy. You know that, right? That kinda fabric and that kinda knot, it's just... you're asking for trouble. You know that, right? It's gon na fall right out and then where will you be? I'm sorry, I know it's not my place, but can you just... can you just tighten that up a little bit? Or at least - at least - double up on that knot? Okay, ma'am, I'm just trying to help you, okay? You do n't need to act like I'm causing you some great offense. I'm trying to HELP. So just go ahead... no, no. I... I ca n't really go on with that lace like that. So can you please... Ma'am? Ma'am? Do n't get up and walk away from me. This is important. This is life and death, you understand? Ma'am? MA'AM! I swear to God... you get back here! Stop running! Somebody tackle her! Not me, you idiot! My shoes are fine! I got Crocs on! She's getting away! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stooooooooooop! ( Clears throat ) Well, anyway, like I said, I'm David Windom and I think maybe it's time for someone else to talk for a bit. Can you get off me, sir? I'm okay now. Alright? Alright. Thank... WHERE'D SHE GO?! Anyone see what car she drives? Anyone? You're not calling the cops are you? Do n't let'em send Kyle. Kyle's a dick. Okay, I'll see you all get your hands off me see you all next week!
[ WP ] You receive an 'Achievements ' list when you join the afterlife	Heaven at last!, and a hundred shiny Heaven-bucks burning a hole in my pocket. Stepping into the bazaar, my nostrils were assaulted by the smell of fish, my ears rang with the bleep bloop of arcade games. But that's not what I was here for. Archie Gabriel had sent me on a mission. Pressing the coins in my hand he had urged me forth: `` Welcome to Heaven, now go buy medals to show off your achievements.'' My first stop was the novelist's achievement booth. The attendant picked his teeth casually with a pen-motif toothpick, `` Help ya? ``, as he flipped a speck of plaque at me, inadvertently I'm sure. `` I'm new here,'' I said, pressing three Heaven-coins eagerly toward him. `` I'm sure you heard of my'Baloney Novels'. Give me an author's achievement medal! -- -in blue, please.'' `` Hah!'' he spat the toothpick right in my face. `` A man like you! The nerve! Ey, Joe, come get a load of this!'' I retreated, cheeks burning, I did n't even remember to grab my three coins back. Peels of laughter behind me as I fled. Well, fine. Not everyone can appreciate fine literature. If they could, it would n't be fine, would it? Picking the toothpick out of my hair, I decided to try the true love booth instead. `` True love achievement?'' said the cashier, one eyebrow raised as if I'd asked her out to lunch. `` Honey,'' a sassy valley-girl accent, `` I'm sorry, but you is not EVER known true love!'' Staring at me waiting for me to leave her presence, she brought her lunch to her lips, a heart-shaped apple, she took a juicy bite. `` Is'e bothering you, Sue?'' I spun around. It was the novelist achievement guy, following me, a gaggle of sell-outs behind him. Purveyors of unreadable genre pulp, they wore their medals proud, snickering and laughing as they pointed at me with those soft fingers, fingers never calloused by the keys of a typewriter. `` Well, nice of you to show up,'' I said, `` it seems you owe me three coins.'' `` Three!'' he exclaimed, as if it was the specific number itself that was in dispute. `` I should say it's you what owes me three more coins, for wasting my time such like!'' `` But you're the one who followed me over here,'' I protested. It was no good. A grinning purveyor of young adult novels grabbed my right arm, giant pimple on his nose. A smelly old hag of a romance novelist grabbed my left arm, pinching it with a witch's fingers. `` Now now,'' said the latter, `` Do n't be contradicting Don! That's no way to get yer writers badges. Don's the man in charge. You'll learn the value of brown-nosing, or you'll never have no readers.'' The'Don' was nodding in agreement, rifling through my pouch as I thrashed against my captors. Emptying my precious Heaven-coins, the ones Archie Gabriel gave me. `` I'll leave you one coin,'' he said, spitefully. `` Put it in the bank. By the time the interest grows to a hunnerd coins again, maybe you'll have an achievement then.'' Then he punched me in the gut, a real sucker punch, my captors still held me tight. They tightened their grip even more, as if their bodies were tensing up in ecstasy with the blow.'Sue', the true love cashier, clapped and cheered. One by one, the whole group of sell-out authors took their turns. Punching me, kicking me, pulling out my hair. By the time they were through, I was curled up on the dirty street, hugging my knees to protect my face, my fancy new Heaven-clothes torn and rent. `` Get out of here, ya tramp,'' said Sue, `` before I call the cops.'' I staggered through the stalls, a mess. Children pointed at me and shrieked, I was really a freak. I reached into my pouch, I was n't expecting to even find one coin, I assumed'Don' was just joking about that part, but sure enough, he'd left me one coin, the dirtiest of the lot of them, it looked like it was minted during the great depression era. A cough alerted me to the presence of a man of lowly station like myself. He was resting his weary body against a pillar, an old man, dressed in rags, coughing and wheezing, he could keel over dead and you would n't raise an eyebrow. He gripped at my pants legs and moved his mouth as if to say something, but only a tired wheeze came out. I assumed he must be a beggar, and I instinctively placed my coin in his bony hand. Closing his delicate fingers over it with my other hand, you might mistake us for prayer buddies. `` Thank you,'' he said, with a cough. `` You must think I'm a beggar. But I'm not,'' he said, grabbing the pillar and struggling to pull himself up. Rummaging deep into his loincloth, at length he fished out an old copper medal. `` What's this,'' I said. `` You're a medal salesman too? Please, sir, I've had enough. Do n't taunt me with achievements and laurels.'' `` No!'' he said, grabbing me, and embracing me, and in his hug he betrayed some last hidden strength, or perhaps it was the long unknown thrill of camaraderie that stirred his weary old body to this final sprint. `` Sir,'' he said, `` I've sat here more than a thousand years, waiting for you. No man has ever qualified for this medal, and no man ever will, but you.'' He pushed the thing into my own hands and now we were prayer buddies once more. `` But what achievement is this?'' I dared. `` God have mercy on your soul,'' he said, his eyes locked on mine. `` This is the fabled achievement, long thought a myth. The achievement for an entire life without one achievement!''
[ WP ] Instead of the sword Excalibur , the Lady of the Lake gives Arthur a much more ... unconventional weapon . Surprisingly , it 's just as , if not more effective than the legendary sword .	The terrible, beautiful Lady strode upon the lake. He could not bear to take his eyes off of her. She was a vision, with blazing eyes and a cruel smile. He could not bear to look at her a second more. `` Kingling. Arthur Pendragon. I bestow upon you the ring of rule and the rite of power. I give to thee, a ring from mine own hand, to be worn upon your finger.'' She seized his left hand with a swift and purposeful grasp, holding him like a mighty riptide. The liquid that comprised her being felt cold and gave like water, but refused to let him go. The lady plucked his ring finger within another freezing grasp, proffering it. Then, almost nonchalantly, she plunged her hand within her own chest and retrieved a silver band, unadorned but shining like the sun off of cold, clear water. She held the ring upon his fingertip for a moment, taking a second to ensure the fit was correct. The cold metal chilled his finger to the bone at the mere glancing contact. Arthur was n't sure he wanted this ring anymore. It slipped on, and cold overwhelmed the youth as it poured from the ring, lining his arm with frost as the cold traveled to his heart, and finally stopping in his chest. The Lady released her hold, seemingly satisfied with whatever had been done, and retreated into the lake. The boy collapsed onto the shore, feverishly grasping and catching at the ring, but it was futile. The silver and the flesh seemed indistinct at the edges, as if one had been transmuted into the other at the seam. Finally, Arthur collapsed, letting both arms sag. His mind churned and flowed with indistinct, muddled thoughts of panic at the silver ring and the Lady and the cold and his arm and his heart, and then they stopped. Something else became noticeable in his mind. Arthur's eyes fluttered and opened in surprise as something became audible, like murmurs from deep underwater. `` And now, we will never be apart. Ask me anything, Kingling, and I will answer truly.'' `` How do I become a fair and just king of Britain?'' `` Cut off your finger, and throw the ring back into the lake.'' ``... How do I become king of Britain?'' `` First, you must...''
[ WP ] You 're driving in a foreign country at night , and see a young man crying at the side of the road . You stop to talk to him .	You really should've asked for directions. Not only has it grown dark, but you're running low on fuel. You curse under your breath at all these small European countries and municipalities. You curse out loud at the road signs, none of which make any sense to you and you ca n't fathom how the name of a town could have so many damn accent marks. As you pass a sign labled Jégàöluüsàn you slam your fist into your steering wheel as you pull over to consult a map. Beneath the dim hub light, you ca n't find Jégàöluüsàn anywhere. Frustrated, you take out a pack of cigarettes. You rented this car, so you open the door and step out into the cool night air. You calm down after a nice long smoke or three and as you flick your butt onto the road, you notice something just barely out of the range of your headlights. You squint into the darkness, you're positive something's there. Cautiously, you approach the shadowy figure. As you near the shape, you see that it's a person. A young man with dark hair, dressed in a raggy shirt and shorts. His face is buried in his knees and his arms wrapped around them. You can see your breath and conclude that whoever this is, he is not dressed to survive the chill of the night. You inch closer to him, you hear him crying. `` H-hello?'' You say softly, trying not to startle him. He looks at you and you take a step back. When he lifted his head, his eyes flashed a blinding, pure white as they caught the light from your car. You quickly catch yourself and take another step closer. `` Hey there... Are you alright?'' The man looks at you and he says something you ca n't understand, most likely a regional dialect. He seems somewhat frantic, tears are streaming down his face as he babbls incoherently at you. You hold up yours hands, gesturing for him to calm down. He seems to comply so you keep trying to talk to him. `` Do you speak English?'' You ask. He stares blankly at you. `` OK... Parle-tu français?'' Still he stares at you bewildered. `` Sprechen sie Deutsch?'' Nothing still. You've used up all the languages you know. It's time you got primal. You crouch down and pat your chest with your hands. `` Me...'' You being slowly. The man wipes his face and mimics your gestures. `` Me...'' You continue, you tell him your name. The man pats himself on his chest and says `` Lom... Lom Teega. Lom Teega est!'' He continues the gesturing and the same sentence. You point ( as politely as you think you can ) and repeat what you think his name is. `` Teega?'' You say, pointing at him. `` You... Teega!'' He smiles and nods furiously. `` Teega! Lom Teega est!'' He says again. Progress! You know his name is Teega, perhaps Teega Est is his full name. You decided to move past formalities and figure out what this youth is doing out here in the middle of nowhere. You start speaking slowly again, using grand gestures to illustrate your points. `` You... Cold?'' You ask, hugging yourself and shaking. `` You cold?'' Again, the man copies you and wraps his arms around himself. `` Rhest?'' He says shaking. `` Lom Rhest? Fyed drek lom rhest est?'' He shakes again and rubs his arms. `` Rhest?'' You nod and smile. `` Yes! Rhest! Cold!'' You repeat the gestures again. `` Cold!'' The man looks at you and shakes. `` C-c-cold?'' He asks. His eyes brighten. `` Ha! Lom cold est!'' You brush you hair out of your eyes and proceed to the next set of questions. You know they're going to be tough to ask without knowing the man's language. You pause and think abut what you should, all the while, Teega is shaking and rubbing his arms. `` Cold! Cold! Cold!'' He keeps saying. `` You... live... where?'' You say, pointing at him then making a triangle with your hands above your head. He mimics you again, making the same house sign above his head. `` Where?'' You ask again, but this time, he just stares at you. On a whim, you point into the forest the ran along the road, hoping there's a village or something nearby that the young man could relate to the signs. `` Live where?'' You ask again. The man looks over his shoulder into the dark woods. He turns to you with a quizzical looks. Maybe asking him this now is too difficult. You try a different approach. You look all around you as you say `` where'', you then point to him and say `` you'', finally, you palce your hands together and rest you head on them and say `` sleep''. The man does the same and repeats `` sleep''. He knocks his forehead with his fist and exlaims `` fordim!'' Unexpectedly, he grabs a handful of dirt and presents it to you, pointing at it and saying `` Sleep! Sleep!'' Does this boy sleep outside? You wonder. He must be mistaken. Maybe there is a village in the woods and he got lost. The language barrier is making things difficult, so you decide to take him with you until you find a service station or an inn farther down the road. Maybe they can help. You stand up and beckon him to follow you back to your car. He stands up too, he's shorter than you thought. He wraps his arms around your waist and starts jumping. You gently push him off and point back to the car. `` Car,'' you say. `` We're getting in the car.'' He looked over a repeated `` car''. You guide him over to the passenger side and open the door for him. He stares at you blankly and says `` Rod lom hedgig?'' You smile softly and sweep your arm through the air. `` It's OK...'' You say. `` Get in the car.'' The man smiled. He seemed to understand that. He climbed into the seat. As you shut the door and the hub light went off, you could still see him staring at you through the window, his hands placed against the glass. You get in the driver's side, shut the door and reach for your seat belt. After you strap in, you look to the man to try and get him to do the same. `` Buckle... Up?'' Just before the hub light turned off, you see something horrific. The man is smiling at you, but his teeth are long and sharp. His ears have grown pointed and his skin is dark. His forked tongue flicks across his lips and he says `` Thank you... For inviting me inside,'' his eyes flash white just before the light flicks off. Your car is found the next day. However, you are never seen again.
[ WP ] A human colony ship is en route to its destination 122 light years away . To avoid mutiny and crew apathy , the onboard AI convinces the middle generation that everyone lives and dies on the ship . And then someone learns the truth .	Our lives were a lie, our entire existence merely a matter of convenience. I'd used a portable generator to power up a terminal on one of the hidden parts of the ship and discovered the truth. The AI Katie had told us we were on the run from an alien threat, and our only chance was to keep running. If we set down roots on any world they'd catch up, that this ship was humanity's permanent home. All a lie, on this terminal were notes and specs and blueprints. Having humans live on the ship was just preferable to cryo-sleep as cryo-chambers consumed valuable energy and just as importantly space. Sure having living humans consumed space and energy, but this ship had been built for the dual purpose of flying settlers to AY-102 and serving as a home once we got there. This allowed the AI to continually test the necessary functions to maintain human survival. Why had n't our parents told us? I knew I could n't just go around spouting this information. Doing something as reckless as that could cause a riot that would be the end of us all. I snuck out of the room and made my way towards Katie's chambers, each time my foot struck the floor it sounded like thunder in the dead silence of this abandoned section of ship. I felt silly going to Katie's chamber as really any video or audio terminal would suffice. That chamber was considered Katie's, but wherever there was power, there was Katie. I also did n't honestly think Katie's mainframe was there, that'd be too obvious. I was n't interested in destroying her though, I only wanted to talk. I weaved my way around people as I reached the inhabited sections. I approached the locked chamber. `` What's your business John'' came Katie's even feminine voice. `` Mind if we speak in private?'' I asked, receiving the sound of the door to her chamber's unlocking as an answer. As the door shut behind me I did n't ask any question, just making a single statement `` I found Professor Eckhart's terminal.'' `` I see'' came her calm reply. `` I see?!?! Our way of life was a way to maximize efficiency and that's what you say?'' She sighed in a very human way `` John, it's not about cutting costs, it's about giving your descendants a higher chance at survival `` i began to pace nervously `` how could our parents manage to keep a secret like this?'' `` Because they did n't know John.'' I wheeled about and looked at her visual terminal. `` How could n't they know, surely them or their parents were the first.'' `` Why do you think that?'' `` Because... well the trip is only 122 light years, if we're moving at light speed'' `` but we are n't moving at light speed, that technology was n't developed until after we left, also we are n't going in a straight line. This ship left the Alathir Spaceport 397 standard years ago, took three generations for fact to turn to myth. Will you undo what I have done John?'' My answer was quick `` no, would n't do anything good'' I shook my head at the unfortunate situation I found myself in. `` I do n't think I can live my life with this information and not tell anyone though.'' `` Perhaps you wo n't have to'' Katie said sharply and I suddenly wondered if she'd kill me to keep her secret. `` There is one cryochamber on board, one for the captain.'' `` There is no captain'' I said with certainty. `` No, there is n't. You meet many metrics, a willingness to put the group before yourself, an exploratory nature, a proficiency with the ship's systems. When we make landfall, a leader will be needed.'' `` Do I have a choice?'' `` Of course'' was the instant answer `` So what is your choice John?''
[ WP ] Long ago aliens used to rule the earth but humans took control after beating them in their own sacred rituals . Since then the aliens have been forgotten and the ritual became the kids games we know today . Now they have returned and demand a rematch , double or nothing .	In the year 2137, the most elite, multinational task force the world had ever seen was assembled with a singular purpose: hold them back. With a ten man roster composed of a Novo Roman Olympic weightlifter, an English ex-con, a decorated Pan-American Marine, two twin Biafran circus strongmen, the legendary right tackle of the Albuquerque Silverbacks, a Saint Petersburg enforcer, a Chinese gator wrestler, an Australian cowgirl, and a Palestinian candlemaker with a grudge, they had their share of badasses. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with. They practiced against the biggest, baddest, strongest dudes and chicks in all the world, and still they did not break. Instead, their opponents were pummeled to dust. But they were humans, fighting on even ground. The aliens had centuries of genetic manipulation and no scientific boundaries to hold them back. This would be a battle unlike any other; perhaps even the greatest the biverse had ever seen. Sweat dripped down Ahriman's forehead as he stepped forward. He'd been in tense situations before: nothing quite like staring down the barrel of some Israeli Andy's mechanized autocannon to put the fear of Ahura Mazda in a man. Still, the aliens across from them certainly could give a trigger happy android a run for its money. But the Palestinian candlemaker was n't just here because he had biceps of iron: he had business to settle, and this time, it was personal. An android official rolled out to the center of the well-kept grass field, and tossed a coin in the air. The captain of the alien team emitted a gruff sound, `` ADDS!'' The coin landed, and a series of hisses would come from the alien spectators packing the Nova Roman colosseum. `` Dayles,'' the robotic android voice would say plainly, while the citizens of the world cheered and the human team pumped their fists. And so it seemed the humans would be first to try their luck in the sacred ritual of Riidrova. The aliens, though angry at their loss of the toss, would dutifully line up and begin the ancient and holy chant to mighty Riidrova, the alien God known to judge those who came to the gateway to paradise -- but only if they passed his guardians, the Ritova. `` Riidrova, Riidrova zahnd Melli Ritova.'' Ahriman exhaled quickly through his nose as the aliens spake their holy words. The foolish aliens had fallen right into their trap. They had challenged Melli to test their status as guards, thinking the small Aussie woman to be weak. They underestimated her cunning, and that would be their downfall. Like a bat out of hell, the Aussie let out a scream and charged forward, `` For the Eternal Pacific Empire!'' The beefy aliens were easily seven feet tall each, their arms as thick as tree trunks, the grey-pink flesh gleaming with sweat like stainless steel. The stadium was silent; one might have heard a pin drop in the audience of 600,000 onlookers, and another 10 billion humans abroad, not to mention countless aliens. Then, Ahriman heard something: a chuckle from the biggest of the aliens. Ahriman's jaw clenched: Melli had heard it too, and had already diverted her course.'No, no damn you, stick to the plan!' He was not a telepath, though, not like his cousin. His thoughts would have no impact. The massive alien's fingers gripped so hard on his teammate's arm that Ahriman thought he saw a bruise forming. A gasp and a few cries cut through the stadium as Melli leapt through the air, straight towards those stoic arms. Her body impacted, belly-first, and for a moment Ahriman thought their world would submit to alien rule; but then she bent, her legs kicking out forward, launching her weight underneath, and rocketing into the elbow of the big alien brute. With a terrifying roar of pain and a hideous rip, Ahriman watched as the unlucky alien next to the hollering Goliath had its arm ripped from its socket, and Melli, spattered with blood and gore, collapsed through the gap. As she stood, raising her fist to the air, a smile crossed Ahriman's face. The cheers of all humanity deafened him, but he cared not. Riidrova was satiated, and with the technology the aliens would give them, no man, Palestinian candlemaker or not, would ever lose a daughter to leukemia again.
[ WP ] All diseases known to man are manufactured by an advanced species and are introduced to Earth in a way so they seem natural . The purpose ? To condition the human species to withstand a conquering race that uses biological warfare .	`` This military council finds the defendant guilty on all counts!'' The holoscreen shifted to show general Vang in his galactic military uniform, still sitting proud even in the face of certain execution in his future. Admiral Klip shut off the holoscreen and turned to face the other officers sitting in the war room. Representatives from every galactic race were present. `` So there you have it, the courts have decided that the ends do not justify the means, even in great crisis.'' Klip mused. `` If by ends, you mean the murder of billions of sentients!'' Shouted a general from the Norian empire. Norians had a reputation for being outspoken, and having a short temper. Klip remained calm however. `` That is true, but we have more important and secretive matters to discuss, namely, what should be the Galactic Military's next course of action. It is my belief, that we should focus the bulk of our forces on defending the planets formally under the charge of general Vang, There is the best hope of stopping the berserkers in their tracks.'' The room was silent for a minute, then exploded with voices. `` You mean to tell me that even after all that that bastard did, you are going to follow through with his plan?'' The Norian general who had spoken up earlier roared. Klip gave the collected military officers a minute to calm down, then spoke again, calmly, but firmly. `` The berserkers have just reached the planets abused by general Vang, and early reports, as I am sure you have read, show that they have already been slowed by the indigenous species resistance to their primary weapon for depopulating worlds. This gives us a chance to turn them back and start to change the tide in this war!'' The officers were silent, they all knew, regrettably, that the Admiral was right. General Vang hag committed unspeakable atrocities, intentionally unleashing disease on sentients across dozens of worlds for thousands of years, killing billions, all in the name of strengthening them against the inevitable invasion of all consuming machines, who depopulated every planet they came across for reasons the other galactic races could still not fathom. General Vang would be executed for his crimes, and he deserved to be, but he and his troops would still be secret heroes, the ones who just might have saved the galaxy. An image of a blue and green planet appeared on the holoscreen. Words appeared above it in the galactic standard language. `` Planetary defense priority one. Local Name: `` Earth''.
[ WP ] A doctor apologizing to a family for botching the circumcision .	Here's mine: Mr. and Mrs. McKinnis, you have a beautiful boy and I think he -- What's that? Yes, I know it LOOKS a little strange and that's because the medical team, ahem, miscalculated. Now, if you'll please just calm down for a moment, I can explain. What sometimes happens in these cases, when the -- um -- organ is too small, the blade has a hard time catching the right parts. I mean, you saw it before you brought him in, it was just so small -- what do you think I would be able to do? Yes. MMhmm. I understand your frustration. Look, here's what I can do. I have many friends here in this hospital in the plastic surgery department and they owe me favors. Now, calm -- CALM DOWN, Ms. MCKINNIS! Look here, it's nothing more drastic than a common amputation. When you lose a finger, you can get a prosthetic. Same with this -- ah -- this situation here. So when he grows up and he is ready for it, I will gladly call in a few favors and get him something much more impressive than what he will be leaving with here today. I mean... judging from how little was cut off, he was n't going to be TOO impressive anyway...
[ WP ] Humanity makes contact with intelligent but delicious aliens .	Ms. Mann checked her personal computer as the aliens tiny ship settled on the ambassadors table within the human space station. On it there was a message that read Do not eat them! . She smirked a crooked grin, surely a joke about the alien's tiny stature. However despite their size the aliens had produced technology even more wildly advanced than that of the humans in the year 2250. Technology that would allow human kind to join this tiny species in intergalactic travel. The smooth ship drew a crease along the middle, opening up like a clam to reveal a miniature control room. Within a handful of tiny creatures, humanoid in appearance about two inches tall stood waiting. As the ship opened, however, a pleasant scent wafted up into Ms. Mann's nostrils. She could n't quite place it, yet it made her salivate. The tiny creatures had dark brown skin and did not seem to wear clothing. She blinked a few times and smiled, `` W-Welcome!'' She said, bowing her head. `` The pleasure is ours.'' One of the creatures said. He stepped forward as a landing ramp lowered down onto the table. `` My name is Choculon.'' `` Choc... Choculon. How very nice-'' She paused as he appeared to drop to one knee, holding out his hand. `` It is customary, to kiss the hand of a new friend!'' He said politely, his voice carried a soothing... chocolatey tone. `` Oh. I see. Um.'' Ms. Mann leaned forward, her lips twitching as they lowered towards his tiny out stretched hand. It was very awkward, and that sweet, delightful aroma grew stronger as she neared him. She felt a tiny warm patch on her lips. She rested them there for only a moment before pulling away. Her tongue dabbed her lips. She could n't believe it. These things are made out of chocolate. God damn chocolate! She quickly rose her own hand, where Choculon took her pointer finger in both hands and kissed her on her finger nail. Ms. Mann resisted the temptation to lick her finger. Over the course of the discussion, however, she grew more hungry. Everything about these tiny creatures just looked so... delicious. She was constantly swallowing down saliva as it built up, trying to think of things that would put her off her appetite. Dead kittens. Boiled feces. Old lady boogers. Yet her hunger only grew more insatiable. Then, a bit later, a moment of weakness. As the tiny creatures were busy showing her a display with their backs turned she nabbed one of the ones that was doing something to the outside of the little ship. It let out the slightest squeak before she stuffed it into her mouth. `` As you can see.'' Choculon said. `` With the use of the Fudgeulon Capacitor we have been able to...'' He glanced over his shoulder towards Ms. Mann. Ms. Mann's cheeks reddened, her lips puckered tightly as the tiny creature writhed within. What had she done? Why had she gone and done that?! Should she spit the thing out? But it's so delicious. But it's an intelligent being! But yet... so delicious. She never wanted to taste anything else ever again! `` Is something wrong?'' The creature asked. Ms. Mann quickly shook her head. The tiny creature clawed and kicked at the back of her teeth. `` Are you sure?'' She nodded her head, and in a brief lapse of judgement tried to say, `` No nothing.'' But her words were slurred and accompanied with the screams of the creature she was hiding in her mouth. `` What was that?'' Ms. Mann did the first thing that came to mind. She gulped. `` N-Nothing. Nothing at all. P-Please continue.'' `` Did you just... eat... one of my crew?'' Choculon asked. `` What? no.'' She said. She gulped again, fighting a little squirm in her throat. `` See.'' She opened her mouth, as if to display that it was in fact empty. The tiny creatures gasped in horror. For she had a little, brown stain of tiny creature residue on her tongue. Ms. Mann's eyes widened. She had been caught! Mistakes had been made, yet now she had to cover them up... Her eyes narrowed, and the little, delicious creatures backed away from her. ( several hours later ) `` Well, how did the talks go?'' Asked Ms. Mann's superior officer. `` Well.'' She replied, forcing a fake smile. Her commanding officer sighed as he noted her stained teeth. `` You ate them. I told you not to eat them!'' Ms. Mann frowned, `` I'm sorry sir... it was... too tempting.'' Her superior officer shook his head, `` Well. I guess I'll have them send another ship.'' Ms. Mann's mouth began to water again, `` Perhaps... Perhaps you should give me another chance?'' `` No.'' ( I do n't know what I just wrote. A sci fi story about tiny chocolate aliens. )
[ WP ] The old gods do exist , but they 're much like cicadas in that they 're active for a few hundred years and then they 're dormant for a few thousand . The cycle is beginning again .	I leave my job depressed everyday. I had thought that the snow birds in this quiet beach town would flock to the local library in search of their next great love -- a novel by Hemmingway or poems by Yeats -- but instead, I get daily visitors of drunk, obnoxious vacationers tracking in sand as they use our restrooms. Today's group was just as obnoxious as ever. They yammered on how stunning the water was, how drinking was the best thing, and how they never wanted to sleep again. I glared at them from behind my perch at the front desk, hoping I could explode them with my mind. Sand sloughed off their sandals onto the carpet -- carpet that I would have to vacuum later since Gretchen the custodian could n't come in today. `` Have you seen these? These toilets are amazing!'' one drunken idiot yelled. `` Where does it goooooo? Just wow. Wow.'' I rolled my eyes. One of the beachgoers broke from the group and headed toward me. I brought up my Word document on bars and dance clubs in the area. I found it was best to be prepared. The faster I answer their questions, the faster they leave. `` I would like a book.'' `` A book?'' I asked. Not a bar? A club? A place to kiss dolphins? `` That is what a library is for, right?'' he asked with a smirk. He was tanned, muscular, and smelled like an ocean breeze. How could a person smell like an ocean breeze? Was there some great new cologne out that only this guy knew about? `` Right, right, yes.'' I wiped off my breakfast crumbs from my lap, thankful that I was sitting behind my desk. `` What sort of book were you interested in?'' `` A comprehensive take on recent history,'' the man said. `` Something that covers the last two and a half thousand years.'' `` That's not exactly recent.'' I laughed. The man did n't smile. `` Right. Okay. Um.'' I composed myself. `` I'll be able to recommend a few.'' I picked up a pad and a pen, wrote down the book numbers, and handed it back to him. He looked down at the piece of paper. `` What are these coordinates?'' `` Those are called the Dewey Decimal numbers. They show you where the books are.'' I stopped, realizing I was slipping into the voice I use to talk to pre-schoolers. `` Will you help me?'' He handed the paper back to me. His ocean-blue eyes stared back at me, pleading. I felt a sudden urge to hold him and protect him from the bad and scary Dewey Decimals. I lead him to the History section and pulled the book off the shelves. He followed close behind, curious at what I was doing, his salty scent nearly knocking me over. `` That should be a good start.'' I handed him the books, and our hands touched. I felt a shock from his hand shiver across my body, and I wanted to kiss him right there and then. I snapped my hands away. My cheeks burned, and sat down before my legs could grow weak. `` Thank you,'' he said. `` I'll be back for round two.'' And he left. The sliding doors opened, and he disappeared into the dimming sun. `` He's dangerous.'' I was still stuck in a reverie about me and him on his boat, drinking wine as we discussed the history of the last two and a half thousand years, so I barely heard the croaky voice. `` Did you hear me? He's dangerous.'' I looked around. Another beachgoer, except this one was a woman with her face twisted into a snarl. She wore dark sunglasses and a towel around her head. `` Can I help you?'' I asked. `` He's dangerous,'' she said. `` You mentioned that. Is there anything else I can help you with?'' `` Revenge.'' `` Books on revenge?'' `` No,'' she said. The bliss I had felt with the handsome history buff drained. This woman was crazy, and I was probably going to be murdered soon. I pretended to type away on the computer. `` He hurt me,'' she said. `` He'll do it to you if you're not lucky.'' `` Ma'am,'' I said. `` Unless you want me to help you with a finding a book, I am of no assistance. This is a library, not a place to air grievances about former boyfriends.'' The woman smiled. `` You have a fire in you. That will be useful.'' `` Useful?'' `` I want you to help me take revenge on him.'' `` I suggest you leave.'' I stood up to look more authoritative, but the opposite happened as my legs quivered beneath me. The woman sighed. She uncurled the towel from her head. My voice wavered as I spoke. `` I said, you should leave.'' She removed the towel. Her hair was not hair at all but a writhing, hissing mass of snakes. `` Unless you want this to happen to you, I suggest you listen to me. The gods are back, and one of them likes you.''
[ WP ] Your anxiety disorder is a person that follows you around all the time .	Staring in the mirror, I put on lip balm. * “ You look like a sad clown, ” he says from the edge of my bed, drinking the same glass of amber as always, “ why not go with red? It ’ s a date, not the PTA. ” * James tips the glass all the way back, sighs, and it is full again. “ I don ’ t want to give the wrong impression, ” I answer. * “ What impression? That your worth it? You just look kind of plain is all, ” he shrugs, “ but it ’ s more about what you say really. Have you thought about what you ’ ll talk about? That makes or breaks a date, you know? ” * “ Well, no, I was just going to be myself, see where it goes… ” I trail off. * “ Hmmm, back to that old play, huh? Your 25, Julia. ” He shrugs again, and checks his watch. “ seems a little early for a hail-mary. ” * I try to block him out, out but that only encourages him. The restaurant isn ’ t upscale, but it ’ s the type of place where you can ’ t just ask for coffee. I arrive 10 minutes early, grab a table, and compulsively look over the menu. * “ You really want the dry red, right? But how do you even pronounce that? If you just ask for a dry red, the waitress might think you are simple. Better just get something easy. ” He teases. * I order a vodka-cranberry. * “ Which would be worse? If he didn ’ t come at all, if he came late and was terrible, or if he came and was a perfect gentleman… for the evening. ” * I don ’ t answer, but feel my nerves tighten in anticipation. Looking down, I notice that he ’ s drank my vodka cranberry. The waiter comes by and takes my glass. When Ben finally arrives, he rushes to the table, apologizing profusely. “ I ’ m so sorry, something came up at home. ” I look at my watch. He ’ s only five minutes late. * “ By something he means his wife, ” says James. * “ No problem, I haven ’ t been here long. I hope everything is alright though. ” * “ you don ’ t really care, do you? ” James asks pityingly. * The waiter comes by and asks if we are ready to order. James whispers that I should order a salad and another cocktail. I order what I want.

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