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[ WP ] The Nazis won WW2 in 1952 when they nuked Washington DC and New York city , they now control the entire planet , describe the day for an average citizen in 2015
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IT took six decades to form the strength to resist they controlled everything, freedoms defined and histories banned at a global level. The resistance started slowly some graffiti in the corners, a slashed tire a few bolts missing from their machine. Their strength alone defined our weakness they need n't notice such mice. Some of us caved from the doubt we had to watch them for years our lives balanced on secrets. Men of tunnels and sewers costumes and disguise we grew by pain and hunger and ranks swelled and lessons were learned. They could n't ignore the third blast they could n't sign off some gas leak or coincidence our time was now on this day.
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[ WP ] You are born into a world where everyone knows their death date .
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I sat across from her, smiling as I rolled the ring in my pocket. She was the one, the girl I was going to spend the remaining 40 years of my life with. I knew this, and knew she loved me enough to say yes. She was really the only good thing in my life right now, and her smile always made even the worst days seem wonderful.
`` You seem nervous.'' She said, causing me to snap out of my train of thought.
`` No... well... yes....a little...'' I admitted, watching her chuckle at my in amusement.
`` This isnt our first date, you know? Its not like Im gon na run to the bathroom and sneak out the window, right? Or is that your escape plan if you break up with me?'' She laughed, causing me to smile in reaction. This was my chance.
`` Its... the opposite actually.'' I admitted standing up and calling the waiter over to me with the wine.
Getting down on one knee and fishing the ring out of my pocket, I began my speech.
`` Beth... you are the most amazing woman I have ever met''
`` Oh my god!'' She shouted as I continued.
`` Your so full of life and love, that every second I am away from you I cant wait to see you again!''
`` Please stop!'' She begged, as tears filled her eyes. I thought nothing of this at the time.
`` Will you marry me?'' I asked, ending my speech as she got to her feet and ran out the door. I followed hastily.
`` What-Beth whats wrong?'' I asked, her as she collapsed to the ground in tears.
`` I'm dying tonight you idiot!'' She answered, as a knot took hold of my stomach. My body felt numb. Like the world had suddenly stopped making sense.
`` No... you cant be...'' I said, hoping to god it was one of her jokes.
`` Why would I lie about that?! And you go... and ruin what could have been a nice last night with you....by doing something stupid like this...'' She said, her make up a mess due to the tears.
`` There must be something we can do.'' I responded, panic and sadness in my voice as I felt tears run down my own face.
`` Just... lets go to your place... and have out last night together... okay?'' She asked me, as I picked her up from the ground. I wasnt sure what to say to her, so I said okay.
The next morning... I was alone
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[ WP ] A person first discovers they have a superpower .
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Everyone always *thinks* they're different. That they're `` special'' in some way. Truth is, most people are just people. Nothing really too interesting, at least that sets them apart from the other people crying out for their individuality. No, most everyone is a normal, boring person that tries to sell you their own brand of normal, boring person. Very few are able to set themselves apart from that sentiment. There's people that are 7 feet tall. People that own islands. People born with the capacity to learn the secrets of the universe.
Then there's me. My name is Eric. I used to think I was one of those nobodies that milled about life trying to get by, trying to be `` special''. But earlier today, I discovered I was. Just a routine day, at my routine job, with my routine life. Nothing out of the ordinary. I was just an office drone. I filled out forms, printed budgets, organized documents, and other mindless tasks. 37 years old, just out of my prime, living alone in the big city. Just like everyone else in that office.
Everything was happening like it did every other day, save for the lightheadedness; which I chalked up to too much coffee. I was filing some MoUs when I dropped my stapler. Without looking away from my screen, I reached for the stapler. I could n't quite reach it, which was odd. I'd dropped that stapler so many times you'd think I'd have figured out how to grab it. Annoyed, I looked down to see where it had landed.
And as I guessed, I was right. It landed right where it always did. However, my hand seemed to be going right through it. Like a ghost. I brought my hand up to my eyes, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was n't see through. Not rattling chains. I thought at first I was losing it. I tried for the stapler again, and sure enough, my hand went right through it. My other hand was grabbing things just fine.
I walked to the bathroom in as calm a fashion as I could. I looked fine in the mirror. A little tired, but I was always a little tired. It was about now that I noticed that my incorporeal hand felt slightly off. Like just after the pins and needles wears off from it being asleep. The more I thought about that, the more the feeling spread. My sleeve fell right through my forearm. Rushing to a vacant stall, I tried to reverse the feeling. I rolled up my sleeve to where it was still solid, and tried to `` will'' my arm to be whole again.
It was that easy. With a few minutes practice, I had it down. I could will that arm to pass through the porcelain toilet with ease, then roll my sleeve back down a normal arm. My mind was racing with the potential. I could be a super hero. I could walk into collapsed buildings and find people. I could walk through bank walls and take whatever I wanted!
I had to stop myself short. I did n't understand *what* was happening. Was it my whole body that could do this, or just my arm? What if this was bad? What if I fell asleep, and fell through the floor? Woke up in the center of the Earth? What if the government found out and tried to capture me? What would everyone think of me if they knew I was like this?
I had to slow down. I was starting to panic. If I wanted people to think I was alright, all I had to do was pretend everything was normal right now. Just like any other day. I'd figure this thing out when I got home. When I was alone. I just had to make it through the day, and not draw any attention to the fact that I can walk through walls.
Even with the excitement of the whole incorporeal thing, I managed to get my work done for the day and make it home without incident. When I was in my 1 bedroom house, I tested the limits of my new ability. I figured out I could shift my entire body into that ghost-like state. I could pass through solid walls, but if I was n't careful, I could fall through the floor. I had to keep my feet, at least the one that was on the ground, solid to walk. My weight seemed to be partially preserved. I was still affected by gravity up to a point. I could not shift my entire body at once, though. Some part of me had to be solid. So I would n't fall through the Earth at night. That's good to know.
I also learned that I ca n't bring anything with me in ghost-form. Yes, I had to do all of these exercises naked. I guess I would n't be robbing any banks anytime soon. Although, I was still learning it. There may be a way for me to take stuff. I mean, my lunch stayed inside me. Could I maybe eat something then take it through? Put it in my mouth? Perhaps it's a sort of field I generate. With practice, I may be able to expand it to clothes.
Well, I have some sick leave. Maybe I should take a few days to learn more about this fantastic development. I need some time to decide what I should do with this special trait I now posses. I guess this is the end of normal for me...
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[ WP ] When all the snow melts in NYC , they 're gon na find all the bodies of the people they thought were n't getting murdered .
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[ Language ]
The city, she's a war zone kid. Ya know, I never truly knew how bad it was till the day I got my badge. I guess it's one of those things you got ta see to believe. Ya got all these busy folk living high in their towers, they do n't know how it is on the streets. Their nose's is too high to smell the stink and their eyes are always focused on the future. For the last ten years though I've seen everything, I've smelled it all, and nothing surprises me.
That is until the day no ones got murdered. Some of the other boys called it a fluke, an easy day, just winding up the rubber band to snap harder tomorrow. I did n't know what to think. No one died? Bull, people is always dyin'. Except they were n't. They sun rose and sank over these grimy streets and not a single hooker, deadbeat, loan shark, gangster, addict, pentecostal, speeder, tourist, cabbie, or trash man died. Remarkable.
I could n't really sleep that night. Instead I watched as the snow fell in blankets covering the soot and dust of my streets. Behind the steam of my cup of joe I watched millimeters turn ta inches; inches ta feet, feet to... A whole fuckin lotta snow.
The next day it was the same story. Ya I know, one day's weird and'remarkable,' but two? That's uncanny. Something's fishy and I ai n't talkin about the Hudson. That night there was more snow. For the week that followed we Apple Eaters laid off one anotha. The only fights were the ones armed with snowballs conscripted by yelping kids three feets tall. And well for a minute I'll admit, and I ai n't proud to admit this, but I even relaxed a little. Drank myself some Jameson Irish Whiskey, ate a good steak, hell, I even took out this cute gal I'd been eyein in the office. Things were... Good. A little too good and dammit any blue worth his salt shoulda smelled the shit, but I did n't.
I do n't know maybe I did n't want to. Ten years of working the beat can really grind ya down. I was tired, so I took a break. Silly me, I shoulda known this city never sleeps or even takes a break for that matter.
When the snow finally melted we all saw the horror. Even them hootie tootie business types paused for a brief second to see the carnage.
They were everywhere. A week without bodies ended with the day of the dead. And I ai n't talkin about no fucking zombies. These were frozen, blue stiffs. The rubber band got wound up too tight and snapped right back in our faces. Beneath that blanket of ignorance I found my hookers, and my addicts, even my double-damned penteconstals.
All there. All dead. Murdered.
Back to the grind for all us boys in blue. We had a helluva lotta work to do. The trash men shoveled the corpses up and outta the streets, but the cold snow made some bits stick. I'm talking like hands, fingers, some teeth here and there, I even saw a whole foot once, but it did n't matter. Hell, no one cared, no one even noticed. Just more trash that'll wash down the drain and into the Atlantic eventually. Just some more dirt on our town.
The killin did n't wait for us to clean up or figure out that mess either. Twenty-four homicides the day after. Like a said, city's a fuckin war zone.
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[ WP ] A crimson kiss .
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She walked into my office like a hurricane of perfume and seduction. I ’ d had about five fingers too much whiskey, but I still knew I needed to be on edge with this one. She ’ d lure you in with her looks and kill you with her brain.
“ Are you Jack Klinger? ” she said.
“ That ’ s what my mother always told me, ” I said.
She sat down across from my desk. “ I ’ ve got a job for you. ”
“ What ’ s the deal? ”
“ I lost something. ”
“ What? ”
“ Something important. ”
“ Spit it out. ”
“ My broach. ”
“ I ain ’ t a lost and found box. ”
“ Fourteen yellow sapphires surround three diamonds. The biggest is 128 carats. ”
I whistled. “ Call the cops. ”
“ I can ’ t. ”
“ So it ’ s something you want to keep out of the prying eye? ”
“ It ’ s not illegal. ”
“ I ain ’ t asking. ”
“ I need it kept hush hush. ”
“ I need a paycheck. ”
“ There'll be plenty when you find it. More than you can make in a year finding bail jumpers. ”
I thought about it. A rogue lover probably stole it. She didn ’ t want the husband to find out. “ Deal. ”
She filled me in on all the details as I pulled out my normal contract. I filled everything out then slid the paper and a pen across the desk to her. She signed and dated it.
“ How soon do you think you ’ ll be able to find it? ”
“ No clue. Today or never have the same odds. ”
She picked up the contract and pressed her lips against the paper. She smiled at me and batted her eyelashes. “ A little motivation. ” She stood up and walked out of the room with hips swaying like a ship during a storm.
I picked up the contract. “ Sealed with a crimson kiss. ”
_______
Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this check out my subreddit /r/Puns_are_Lazy.
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[ WP ] A man with blood shot eyes and a horrified look on his face stumbles up to you in the middle of the street . He looks positively terrified as he places a cell phone in your hand , whispers 'I 'm so sorry ' , and walks away ; you 're standing there in bewildered shock when the phone begins to ring .
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`` I'm so sorry''. The man whispers in my ear and walks away.
What a freak. It's a wonder what people do to themselves. I looked at him and all I felt was disgust.
And what am I supposed to do with his phone? Is this even his phone? Did he steal it?
I wanted to get rid of this thing as soon as possible. I liked keeping out of trouble. As I was debating whether or not I should hand the phone over to the police, it rang.
It was an unknown number. Out of habit, before i could actually think about my decision, I answered the phone.
`` Hello? Who is this?'' I said, careful not to show my irritation.
`` Hello Daniel, how have you been?'' Said the voice on the other side. No, it's not possible. That voice. I had heard it before, I had heard it throughout my life till a few years ago.
`` What the actual fuck? What kind of sick joke is this?''
`` My son, I have been watching over you''
Who was this woman? Why was she doing this to me? I know, I know I was guilty. But this punishment was too much. Too much. I was crying. I'm I should n't have done that to her.
But I loved her so much. And she was giving me away, she loved him more than me. She was going to marry him. I should n't have done what I did. Oh god why mother? Why did you choose him?
`` Son, come to me. I know you can, I know you need me, and I promise you it'll be just the two of us. Just us, Ralph wo n't meet us here. I'll feed you ice cream and tuck you into bed like I always did, we'll be together again. Everything you did is forgiven''
This was the voice that belonged to a woman who gave me icecream treats. The voice of a woman who tucked me into bed every night. The voice of the woman who lost her life a few years ago.
And just like that, my decision was clear. I knew what I had to go to get her to love me again. And I was going to do it, it would be hard, but I was mad for my mothers love.
So I knew.
I just had one more thing to do before I left, as I handed over the phone to the next person I saw. I knew what the phone was going to do to him, so I whispered to him, the words that brought me here.
`` I'm so sorry.''
I was coming, ma.
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[ WP ] You decided to `` fight fire with fire '' . It had unusual consequences .
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Fire is vital for humanity. After thousands of years we using it, we know that to control the fire, we are using water. Well, that matters aside, i did not have water beside me right now.
`` Well, did you call 911?'' She said, while crying.
`` Yes, they said an hour from now''
`` So, we'll lose everything?'' She cry louder.
I think it is illogical. Why the emergency personnel should be stationed near the worst traffic jam in the city. I should n't buy this house, I think. Anyway, i need to control the fire now.
An idiom said, `` fight fire with fire''. I'm a little bit confused right now so i will take things literally. I grab a stick with a fire, and try to put the fire out with fire. It works.
It works, the fire slowly out. After half an hour, it finally out. I said to my wife to go to her mother's place, using my car. And then, something more unusual happens.
The car is n't working. A little bit tinkering, i think the spark plugs is n't working. Huh, four spark plugs at the same time? And when the firefighter comes, their engine is suddenly out too. What?
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[ WP ] Time capsule from the future
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`` You've got mail!''
What? You mean somebody else actually uses this e-mail crap? Why did n't my parents just buy me a car instead... it's probably just that supposed Nigerian Prince thing again.
*click*
Well this is a mouthfull, let's see what elaborate scam I'm apparently getting pulled into this time?
`` So by now you've decided to ask out a few people, have you? Tested the waters? Chances are, you either knew you would get turned down or you figured you would get lucky on the first try. Kelsey did n't work out, and neither did Carissa, Abby, or anyone else.''
The fuck? How does this guy know who I've asked out? I do n't even know anybody named Abby.
`` By now, you've probably given up hope, or you're content with the way things are. Just keep trying; things will get better. You'll find someone, or assuming this timeline holds up, you'll meet me.''
Yeah, assuming my right hand decides to cheat on me.
`` This e-mail is not a prank, it is not from a science fiction novel. It is a time travelling message, courtesy of [ REDACTED ], though that'll never get past the company's censors. It's a new thing that will exist in a few years, please take this seriously.
`` I can only send you messages like this very sporadically, it's a time-travelling message; too many at once can cause serious damage. This technology also has a character limit, which I'm running up to. Just remember this, things will get better, and I, or whoever it is that you meet up with, love you.
Yeah, I highly doubt that. Who wrote this, and how did they make their e-mail address untraceable? I could use something like that.
*delete*
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A man is told that he only has 5 days left to live , and he will lose one of senses per day .
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`` I've only had one love in my life''
He took out a worn packet of Lucky Strikes and peeped through the hole he had torn out. He had one last cigarette. The man turned the packet upside, patted the bottom of the packet and caught the fleeing cigarette with his index and middle finger.
He did not immediately bring it to his mouth as would be expected; instead he paused and stared at it for a long time. After all this was n't a simple habit, it was his unique ritual. His mind drifted away to his past.
He thought of his childhood, where he used to play in his backyard with his best friends, chubby Bobby and tall Harisson. Bobby was a kid best described as `` three-children-in-one'', but despite his voluminous size he was kind-hearted and gentle. Harisson was similar to Bobby's description, but he gained his length in height rather than width.
The three of them were a notorious `` gang'' back then, always in the centre of mischievous activities that disturbed the neighborhood whether it was stealing from Old man Richard's apricots, or ringing the bell of the widow Mrs. Chirstine during siesta time.
He remembered having a home back then, and a warm family who cherished and loved him. His mother would always bake pies of the sweetest scents during Sundays, leaving them on the porch to cool off. His father would leave for work at 6 am coming back late afternoon, always packed with a smile regardless of the heavy workloads he endured.
His thoughts were interrupted by a strong honk below him. It was the 9 pm vessel, always on time, always passing right under his `` home''.
He resumed looking at his cigarette and brought it to his face, yet he did not place it on his mouth just yet. He closed his eyes and brought the cigarette to his nose in a slow but steady horizontal sweep from his left to his right. He took a long, long sniff and gradually opened his eyes. His father would always be surrounded by the same aroma he had the pleasure of sniffing; it was a tingly lukewarm smell.
He finally placed the cigarette on his lips and checked his ripped at several places, rugged, tattered brown coat for his lighter. After feeling several pockets with his hands he found his lighter in his lower left pocket. He scratched his great, lengthy beard with the hand that was holding the lighter, then quickly lit his cigarette and smiled as he heard the spectacular sound of the cigarette burning.
The first inhale was revitalizing. He felt his whole body relaxing. He started replaying the events of this morning in his head one final time.
He remembered walking on the exact same spot he was currently on that morning, contemplating on where to find a plate of food. The act of not eating for four days had made him weaker, and he was becoming dizzier with each step. He remembered a deafening silence, snapping his fingers to his left ear to try and hear a sound, but to no avail. He panicked when he discovered that his very fingers seemed like a foreign object, like someone else ’ s fingers. He began breathing faster and heavier, becoming dizzier with every passing second. Then an abrupt, eternal, darkness followed by a null nothing.
He was woken up by a nurse. According to the physician that had examined him he had collapsed from lack of nutrients and liquids. She told him that protocol stated that they should run additional tests on him, so they had.
He drifted away once more. It was the third time-this month- that he was hospitalized for the same reason, each time he felt weaker than before.
``..you have 5 days to live'' the nurse concluded her sentence reluctantly.
Immediately, he snapped back to reality. What did she mean? She started uttering terms and jargon that he was unfamiliar with, only picking up a few words at a time:
`` Tests show…Extremely rare disease...''
`` ….loss of one sense per day... for five days….''
``....no cure''
``... death is inevitable…''
He raised his pointer finger to his mouth signaling for her silence. She immediately stopped talking and they sat in silence for a good amount of time. How much? He failed to remember. He sat straight on the right side of his bed to face her and removed the heartbeat monitor from his arm. The nurse moved as if to stop him but his penetrating glare was enough to make her stand her ground. He walked towards the room's exit and before he left, he turned around to ask for his belongings. The nurse subconsciously pointed to a cupboard next to the bathroom door. The man opened the cupboard to get the only thing he had left in this world: his cigarette pack, which was inside his ripped, rugged, tattered brown coat.
Once again he found himself in the present. He looked at his cigarette that had almost turned entirely into a bud.
`` My only love'' he uttered.
Smoking was not a habit, it was a ritual. His ritual. Touching his cigarette, smelling it, sniffing it, enjoying the sound of it burning and of course inhaling it. It was his only reason to live. But now it would be taken from him.
But he was smarter than that. He would not let anyone destroy his ritual. They had taken everything away from him. His friends. His family. His life. Not this. This was his to keep. Forever.
He tossed the bud over the ledge, and looked far away on the pavement towards a secluded corner. He gave his `` house'' a silent goodbye, climbed over the ledge and took a leap of faith.
As he slowly descended he knew that he had protected the love of his life, his only love of his life. Before he could no longer produce any new thoughts he thought:
`` I've only had one love in my life. And now it has become my one and eternal love''
EDIT: Formatting
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[ WP ] Create a modern religion with : a backstory of a savior , a story of his/her heroic demise , a universal truth/lesson and a greater being .
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The Leviatlean faith first garnered national attention in 2007. In relative terms, the religion is still in its infancy; that hasn ’ t stopped the movement from exerting substantial influence. To hear the faithful tell it, the Leviatlean “ age of miracles ” has yet to hit its stride.
Official church doctrine names Collin Trevor Collins as the founder of the faith and saviour of mankind. Born in 1972 to Frank and Colleen Collins in rural Arkansas, Collins seems an unlikely candidate for “ messiah ”. He appears to have lived his life in obscurity until the summer of 2005, when he performed his first and only miracle and founded his church.
& nbsp;
On the eve of the Leviatlean Church ’ s foundation, America was gripped in the throes of record company litigation. The War on Terror, with its resultant armed incursions in multiple middle east countries, was arguably a more pressing matter. The world will never know what would have happened had the RIAA ( Recording Industry Association of America ) not targeted Collins in one of its file sharing lawsuits.
Collins ’ s reaction to the RIAA ’ s subpoena was atypical to say the least. Gripped by some righteous fury, he set about constructing a legal entity that rivals even the most established corporations in its complexity. Tirelessly he filed forms and drafted documents; when the work became too great, he enlisted the help of relatives, friends and neighbors. These were to become his disciples. The end result was a veritable leviathan of paper and ink: The Leviatlean Corporation. The stated purpose of the entity was to “ bear the weight of the world ” for those fell victim to “ unjust ” legal action.
& nbsp;
Aside: the Church nee Corporation is a *Leviathan* created in the image *Atlas*. Collins gets little credit, even amongst true believers, for creativity.
& nbsp;
Collins immediately set his creation on the warpath against those he deemed too litigious. The copyright holders fell victim first. A wave of injunctions and subpoenas crashed over the major trade organizations and publishers and tie their attorneys up in frivolous legal battles indefinitely. Next were personal injury lawyers and their clientele. Finally, Leviatlean set its sights on rival faiths ( who shall remain nameless to avoid liability. The irony is not lost on the author ). Leviatlean was poised to capture the entire American court system when disaster struck.
The targets of Collins ’ s wrath joined forces and counter-sued simultaneously. Collins greeted the doorbell fully expecting one or more process servers. What met him instead was several tons of paperwork, delivered by dumptruck. Collins was crushed by the avalanche. To this day it is unclear whether the cause of death was asphyxiation, blunt force trauma or blood loss from paper cuts.
& nbsp;
That might well have been the end of the Leviatlean movement. Literally crushed by his enemies, the head of the church could obviously no longer lead. The adversaries of the church believed as much, but the faith ( or “ Trust, ” to borrow the Church ’ s terminology ) of the Leviatleans revealed Collins ’ s miracle. The disciples dutifully showed up for work the next day and discovered that the Codex of Procedures provided guidance for any and all operations of the Corporation. So perfect was Collins ’ s construction of the Leviatlean Corporation that it was heralded as a sign of divine inspiration. That day Leviatlean evolved from Corporation to Church, and became the living god of the Leviatleans.
% nbsp;
The Leviatlean Church continues to function just as it did when its founder was alive. From the outside it could be mistaken for a normal corporation except for its more unorthodox tenets, among them: corporate personhood begets corporate sentience; Collins lives as prophet of the Church within the sacred original Codex; Collins will return in a divine “ Corporate Corporealization ” to act as Chief Executive to the world; Casual Friday is the holiest day of the work week. Adherents hold signs that say “ Trust in the Trust ” or “ 2 Operations Section 820, Paragraph 21 ” at sporting events or PTA meetings. The Church raises funds primarily from the congregatio -- members are encouraged to invite friends and relatives to Church-sanctioned events and outings where slogans like “ We Have Incorporated! ” and appeals to emotion are used to drum up donations. Church actions still revolve around tying up attorneys in protracted legal battles. For the most part, the strategy seems to have worked. RIAA mass lawsuits have ceased as of late 2008 in favor of less-conspicuous dealings with ISPs. Messiah or not, Collin Collins may well have changed the course of history with Leviatlean.
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[ WP ] In the future , certain emotions are illegal . Write about the day of a black market emotion dealer .
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`` Is this the place?'' the young man. `` Depends,'' the hooded figure responded, `` What are you looking for? I have plenty of trinkets.'' `` I'm looking for a bit of... nostalgia.'' came the reply.
The shady figure motioned for him to follow. `` Nostalgia. That one's somewhat hard to get, on account of not enough situations that would normally require it happen anymore, due to the ban, and you got ta get just the right amount of sadness worked in. It's gon na cost you.''
The young man, reconsidering said, `` In that case, can I have a drop of love?''
`` Love. Ah, beautiful, but again, pricey. Unfortunately, Infatuation is produced way too often, and we ca n't always get ahold of the good stuff. But if you really need it...''
`` No thanks,'' said the young man, `` What's the cheapest thing you have?''
`` Well, sadness has n't ever been in high demand. In my opinion, it's underrated. But again, it's difficult to balance it. Sometimes pain or anger come out, or it does n't last long enough for you to appreciate it. Other times it's too long and too strong. But I have some for you right here. This is the quality stuff.''
`` I'll take it.''
That day, a young man experienced the greatest thing in his life. Tears running down his cheeks, and a feeling that he would remember for the rest of his life.''
The moral is take joy in your sadness, for it is precious.
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[ WP ] A little girl walks up to a man at a desk . She is followed by something horrifying . She points to it and says `` It 's lost , and we need to get it back home . ''
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This is a great opportunity for me to extend my story of Draythor/Mungo, from the writing prompt [ A warlock of immense power is hired to perform at a child's birthday party. ] ( https: //np.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4ruj73/wp_a_warlock_of_immense_power_is_hired_to_perform/d54vik3/ )
--
On account of being head of the gate command watching what passed for a road through the Deep Woods, Lt. Groll had seen a lot of things walk out from those cursed trees. Orcs, trolls, and once even a blood jaberwoky had marched out to try their odds against the city's defenders. He believed his gray eyes, surprisingly free of the yellow of age, had seen it all.
Which is why he was so taken aback when a small girl, hair a tangled blonde halo around her head, walked out of the shadows. She was humming tunelessly to herself, and her yellow dress, sporting a few tears and a bit of grime, swayed as she alternated between walking and skipping her way towards the gate.
Groll's men, well drilled, took up defensive positions despite their obvious confusion. If it were n't for the fact that this was the Deep Woods, Groll could have mistaken their clatter of armor for wind chimes as the girl made her way up the road through the flowered meadow. He shook his head to clear the peaceful images - this *was* the Deep Wood, and the denizens of that forest were nothing if not devious. He pulled the chord which spilled a pouch of salt, completing the circle around the gate command.
The girl skipped over the line of salt without noticing it, and walked up to Groll's post with the most earnest-looking smile he'd ever seen. A dark dryad maybe? They were rumored to be able to take on the shape of their victims. But they never left the Deep.
`` Hi! I'm Suzy, and I need your help'' the girl stood straight and still after a little stomp to add emphasis to her request.
The apparition seemed so earnest, and yet what real girl could come through *those* woods and remain so unafraid? Still, he decided to play along until he understood the game.
`` Hello Suzy, I'm lieutenant Groll. What is it you need help with?'' That sounded like the normal sort of thing a lieutenant guarding the Southern Bridge, leading away from the woods and towards civilization, might reasonably say to a traveler.
Before Suzy could answer, however, a commotion among the ranks of his men caught Groll's attention. They's spotted something else. Sauntering from the woods was what looked like a diseased dog or hyena, roughly the size of a small pony. It was wreathed in flame, and while its flesh was charred, it seemed to take no notice as it stepped from the woods with unearthly grace. Bits of tree around it caught fire, but fortunately the recent rains prevented a conflagration. They quickly smoldered out.
Groll shouted a few orders as his men readied themselves for battle - even the heavy ballista swung round to target the thing. With hell-creatures, there was no easy way to determine their strength, and this demon-dog might have the power of an entire army contained in its misshapen form. Groll eyed the newly laid pitch at the stand-off distance longingly - but he supposed lighting the firewall would do him little good against this foe.
As it padded forward, it swept the defensive emplacement with its gaze, appearing unimpressed. Then its eyes locked with Groll, and it did not look away or blink. The effect of those solid red orbs was enervating and entrancing, and as a result Groll was shocked to realize he'd forgotten the girl when she spoke:
`` I need you to help me with Puppy. He's lost, and we need to get it back home.''
`` P... Puppy?'' Groll had never in his life stammered - orders that are clear and certain are heeded vastly better than the same orders given with a lisp or stammer.
Taken off guard as he was by this, the girl's words had broken whatever spell was in the creature's eyes. He looked up at it again as it paced restlessly beyond the Salt Circle. Powerful muscles rippled under the charred and burning hide.
`` Who are you, little girl?'' Groll asked, struggling to put the pieces of this unprecedented puzzle together.
`` I *told* you'' she scowled, crossing her tiny arms in frustration. `` I'm *Suzy. *'' As if that answered everything. Or anything.
`` How did you come to be in the Deep Woods, little Suzy?'' This situation was impossible - but either the girl was in more danger than anyone he'd ever known, or she *was* a larger danger than he'd ever faced.
`` Mungo and I were looking for his lost dog, and my friend Suzy'' she replied brightly. `` Mungo is my friend. I'm helping him be nice, and he's taking care of me now that my parents are gone.'' She twirled back and forth slightly as she spoke, hands holding the hem of her dress straight. `` But I found Puppy, and brought him back here so you could help him get home. Mungo stayed to look for Suzy some more.''
Groll was continuing to watch the creature out of the corner of his eye - sparks occasionally set small areas of the field alight, and presently it coughed, spitting up what looked like a chunk of burned flesh. He swallowed before asking `` And where does... Puppy... live?''
`` Hell, I think.'' she said, finger to her lips as if this question had not actually occurred to her before now in her little quest.
Behind him, Groll heard his men stir restlessly, and a chill wind passed over them all.
`` Puppy... is from Hell? And you want us to... send him back?'' Groll struggled to put this into words, but in terms of action he was already moving, signaling his men to ready for instant attack. The creature's flames grew brighter, and Groll could feel, more than hear, it's deep growl as it marshaled its own eldritch powers.
`` Puppy, NO!'' the girl chided, turning stamping her foot in earnest this time. `` They are friends and want to *help* us.'' She gave the horrid deamon-beast a six-year-old's most intimidating stare.
To Groll's shock, it backed down on its haunches, both the flames and growling subsiding.
`` You can command this... Puppy?'' asked Groll, in amazement, while he signaled his men to wait. He was no longer sure which target was more dangerous.
`` He's a good dog.'' she said, nodding. `` His real name is *****'' - and at this, the chillness of the wind doubled, the sky darkened three shades, and his chest seized like an attack of the heart. `` But I do n't like to say it because it sounds icky. So I call him Puppy!''
Events had spiraled well outside of Groll's comfort zone - and considering that his day-to-day job was battling the forces of evil that tried to overrun his city, this was some accomplishment. Who was this girl, who at an apparent age of six could speak words of the Dark Tongue without effect? And who merely thought they were `` icky?''
The shadows of the forest shared this thought with him, as they again coalesced into the bone-white form of Draythor, wrapped in heavy black robes against the pain of the morning sun. As he, too, sauntered up from the Deep Woods ( which held no terrors to *him* ) and approached the beleaguered gate post, the hell hound broke and ran for the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. It sprinted more like a lion on the hunt than a frolicking dog.
The men started and shouted at the sudden movement, but to their credit, only one loosed a bolt in the beast's direction as it ran. It was a clean miss, of course.
`` Puppy, come back! Puppy! Oh no.'' Suzy looked on the verge of tears. It was true, then, thought Draythor - Mungo, as Suzy knew him. The Good morn even the loss of the evil.
`` There there, child'' came `` Mungo's'' voice, twisting through the air like a snake. We'll find... Puppy... again soon. He wo n't have gone far.'' His clawed hand reached in a mocking motion of comfort towards the girl, but stopped directly over the line of salt. He grinned, watching the effect frightened response of the gate guards. Several had blanched so strongly they were barely distinguishable from corpses. How portentous.
`` Did you at least find Suzy?'' The head of the guard looked on in amazement as the tiny child stared up at this monster, with no fear - only the trace of hope for her lost friend. Draythor basked in the man's confusion and dread.
`` I'm sorry, child, but I did not.'' He managed, with some effort, to avoid looking at the burned hunk of meat coughed up by the hellhound.
Draythor sensed the guard's dread catalyzing into Duty, but before they could strike he glanced meaningfully towards little Suzy. He sensed their hesitation would not last long, despite the perceived hostage, but that was just as well. He, too, had need of action. Not in the name of duty, of course, but for darker ends.
`` Suzy, why do n't you run along and find Puppy, while I repay these... *kind* young men for all their help?'' He was beginning to let slip the slithering death, and the grass around him was dying in a widening circle. All but the girl were too tense to notice it, nd she had other things on her young mind.
`` They really were n't any help, but I do suppose they tried.'' She nodded decisively, and ran with the heedlessness of youth towards the heart of the Deep Woods. Cries of `` PUUUuuuuuupYYYyyyyyyyyy'' streamed out before of her.
As she approached the edge of the woods, Draythor kicked sand over the line of salt. His grin reached wider than any living mouth should as he stepped over the ward towards the guards.
--
You can read more of my stuff at r/thefeshywords
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[ WP ] There are only 16 people left on earth , and they are each a different Myers Briggs personality type ...
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Shitty writing skills activate!
-- -- --
It's been 2 years since the apocalypse settled down. Now there's sixteen of us left in this world. The worst part is that they're all in my bunker.
-- -- --
Goddammit, I knew I should n't have drunk that extra bottle of whiskey.... we have n't had aspirin in weeks. And just when I'm starting to adjust to the splitting headache I hear....
`` GODDAMMIT, GRACE!!! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GET THE SUPPLIES YESTERDAY! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING!''
Ugh, I wished for some peace and quiet and I get Mark with his panties up in a bunch. And just as I wanted to quietly grab myself a cup of water...
`` Well, well, well. It's about time you woke up.''
`` Listen, I have the mother of all hangovers right now. Now do me a favor and shut the fuck up. I'll go get the goddamn supplies....''
Heh, classic Mark, giving me a death stare. At least he's quiet now.
And so, keeping my end of the bargain, I grabbed my rifle, coat, and machete and climbed up and out of the bunker. Better get those supplies before sundown. I barely avoided getting eaten the last time ventured out here...
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[ WP ] Tell the story of Halloween , from the perspective of the piece of candy .
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In the hours of waiting, we spoke of the before times, Tootsie and I. Before our sweet plastic home had been invaded with a zealous rip and replaced by a rough, scratchy orange bowl. Before we were tossed senselessly into a hodgepodge of other frightened candies, all taken from their homes as well. Before the chaos. Candy searching for fellow candy, calling names of their lovers and babies, families split apart by hectic, panicked crowds of other sugary confections. The cries were deafening. War broke out between Milk and Dark, slaughtering king Snickers with a chocolatey bloodbath in the process. Skittles called for peace, claiming leadership amongst the outliers and taking a stand against the anarchy, and finally war fizzled into a shared misery. The battles ceased. Hopelessness settled in by the fall of night.
Tootsie and I tried to flee, taking blind leaps of escape with every rock of our bowl as it sailed into hands of drooling monsters. Every attempt ended in disappointing failure as Tootsie lost her spirit. It was n't until our elderly neighbor Baby Ruth was stolen from us by wicked hands that Tootsie truly lost the will to fight, though. I could only hold her, cradled in the bottom of the cold bowl, covering her fragile, unraveling wrapper from the awful screams of candies being taken away with every shake of our prison. The quaking became less frequent and nearly ceased by morning, but impending doom jeered in the dark. And almost on queue, the bowl rattled once more -- fingers fumbling through us all until they wrapped around their prize, whisking her away with fervor. My lovely Tootsie had less than a fleeting chance, and yet, in the end, she did n't even scream.
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[ WP ] You are a bloodthirsty , battle-axe wielding barbarian . You work for a multinational corporation , in the accounting department .
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`` Kronk want grande chai tea latte, 3 pump, skim milk, lite water, no foam, extra hot in a big cup to go. Make sure to only half fill.'' The Starbucks attendant sighed. standing before of her was Kronk the gregarious. Local accountant for one of the largest firms in New York. `` Would you like your straw today, Kronk? Extra metallic?''
Rubbing his large fingers on his bearded chin, Kronk shook his head. `` No thanks. Just what Kronk ask for please. Kronk very cranky. Big boss meeting, need much energy. No time for sippy.''
Her hands moved quickly, running through a practiced routine, pouring and filling and measuring, then re-measuring and pumping then finally adding the finishing touches. `` There you go, Kronk. One tea to go. Hope your day is n't like yesterday'' she said, a grimace playing on her face.
`` If Kronk lucky, it be better.'' he said as he grinned, showing off his rotting yellowed teeth. It contrasted horribly with his trimmed and tailored grey suit with a maroon tie set against a pure white shirt, freshly pressed. His muscles bulged underneath, fighting to get free. On his back sat two incredibly large axe's. twice the size of the Starbucks barista before him. Tiny flecks of red sat on the sharp keen edges that looked lovingly cared after. Leather bound handles smelling of heavy earth and sweat wrapped around long oaken stakes to hold it together.
The barista could n't help but sigh again, wistfully as Kronk stomped off.
She nice, Kronk thought. Maybe me take back to cave tonight after great meeting victory over'boss'.
One large gulp later, and the tea was gone. Too cold, he thought. Must ask for hotter.
_____________________
A dull buzzing came from the fan that was blowing hot air just next to Kronk as he sat in a chair at least five times too small for him. Sweat poured down his chiseled face, filling his collar with it, turning the freshly pressed white linen grey. Opposite him was his boss. A small stout man with a mustache far too big for his small rotund face that jiggled as the fan blew air into it on it's rotation.
`` Well now, Kronk.'' He said, fixing his small glasses as he spoke. `` It's time for your performance review.'' Kronk gulped while twisting his large rough thumbs around each other. `` Yes, sir. Kronk ready for great review. Kronk thinks he has worked very hard this year.''
Kronk's boss cleared his throat and tapped a thick wad of papers that he had in his hands on the desk. `` Yes.. good..'' he said, his eyes squinting as they looked up and down Kronk's figure. What wrong? thought Kronk, maybe hair mussed up by fan? Kronk lathered his hand in spit and furiously matted down his long flowing mane of gloriously golden brown hair, sticking it to his skull. Making a noise of disgust, Kronk's boss continued. `` As I was saying.. your performance review - well.. it's.. It's not good.''
Kronk's mouth upturned, twisting slightly. `` Sir?'' Taking off his glasses Kronk's boss sighed. `` Well.. it's just.. I do n't think, even with your years in college and university that our firm is.. suited for you, Kronk. This set of results I have here of your performance is reports from YESTERDAY. The rest of them..'' Kronk's boss looked to the side of the room where a mountain of box's sat against the wall, towering to the ceiling casting a shadow that ran the length of the room and back again. `` Why, just yesterday you threatened Robert McKinley, one of our largest clients with, and I quote'stuffing his own throat down his arse so far he'll be swallowing his own shit for years to come.''' Kronk laughed, his voice booming across the small wooden paneled room. `` Oh, yes! That was great day for Kronk! Got much signings and much tax returns for Mr Robert. He refused to help fill in his forms proper but I made sure it was good and well.'' His face splitting in half with the large disgusting grin made Kronk's boss pause for just a moment.
`` Yes, well.. Shortly after Mr McKinley came into my office and canceled all future contracts with our firm.'' Kronk's grin faltered, replaced with a dark turn of the mouth and short angry breaths as his face reddened. `` Kronk will win back contract! Even if he must ki-'' Kronk's boss slammed his fist on the table, interrupting the Barbarians train of thought. `` You will do no such think, Kronk! How many times must I tell you?! NO KILLING THE CLIENTS. NO KILLING THE CO-WORKERS. AND CERTAINLY NO KILLING THE POLICE WHO QUESTION YOU.
Silence filled the room as Kronk sat back, his chair groaning with pressure, deflating. `` But.. boss.. Kronk only want to account good. Kronk good with numbers. Tax is beaten before Kronk's mighty chest and pen!''
Making a steeple with his fingers, Kronk's boss looked the Barbarian in the eye. `` Kronk, there's no easy way to say this. I could keep you here all day telling you that chopping your colleague in half and bathing in their blood because they filled a form in is wrong, or killing a clients pet dog because it dishonored you by peeing on your car is not acceptable. Hell. Even though we all cheered, killing an IRS auditor is simply NOT acceptable!''
Kronk sunk further, somehow, his chair lowering it's self impossibly. `` What Kronk's boss mean?''
Sighing, Kronk's boss stood up and walked to the man sized window and stared out at the city before him. Then, puffing up he turned. `` Kronk. You're fired. Clear your desk by the end of today. I'll personally bring you your pay check then.''
Kronk sat, a shadow passing his face as his boss continued to drone on about the minutiae of the firing process. Kronk.. fired? He thought as the world seemed to drop out from beneath his large fur lined boots. `` Kronk.. not fired.. Kronk.. FIRE.. YOU!!'' he said as he launched himself across the small wooden desk, ripping his shirt off showing his waxed and shiny sheen hairless chest to the world before grabbing his boss and lifting him into the air, effortlessly.
`` Now now, Kronk'' his boss said, gasping for air as Kronk's grip tightened. `` Let's not.. get.. too.. tes... ty..'' A vein pulsed on Kronk's forehead, an evil purple looking snake that twitched and boiled. `` Kronk not testy. Kronk now boss of firm. Kronk say, you fired!'' Before he knew it, Kronk's axe was in his hand, an extension of his self. It smashed the window he stood at effortlessly. Kronk moved forward, hanging his former boss out the window. `` Kronk.. PLEASE!'' he gasped, his face now turning a deep shade of blue. `` I.. TRIED.. TO.. HELP... YOU...''
Kronk thought for a moment, a great effort as the rage flowed through his blood, blinding him to the gorgeous view of skyscrapers lined against the blue horizon.
`` You.. did hire Kronk when no else would.. Kronk.. thanks you. Kronk also wants you to know, that Kronk is bestest worker at firm and will take good care of it.''
`` KROOOOOOOOOO^ooonnn^kkkkk^k.....''
_________________________
`` Yes sir. Please take a seat, our CEO will see you momentarily.''
Tired of waiting, Robert McKinley stormed past the small diminutive secretary and slammed the door to the office open.
`` How dare you call me back here after what your stupid buffoon did.. to..
me...
...''
`` Hello, Kronk.''
Sitting in a lavishly blue furred suit, lined with gold and silver trimmings, a blood red tie dashing against his bare chest, Kronk was reclining in a large overly ornate chair, covered in bear furs and other illegal-to-kill and possibly now extinct animals.
Draped across one of the large golden arms was a small lady wearing a Starbucks uniform, filing her nails looking bored.
`` Hello Mr Robert. Please, take a seat. This wo n't take long at all.''
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[ CONTEST ! ] Flash Prompt tonight in the chat room !
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These were an indigenous people like nothing I had ever seen, in all my years of anthropology. They had no oral language, no names and most fascinatingly, no religious beliefs. I counted my blessing for this unique opportunity to learn from, and teach, such a rare and primitive tribe.
I began with cooking. I showed them different methods and options that could be used. The tribe took to these with little to no interest. The main problem was the lack of food supplies, living mostly on a diet of fruit and squashed bugs.
So I showed them how to hunt. They had never tried anything like it before. They didn ’ t even have a hand gesture to signify it. But they loved it. I watched them spend all day casting spears and nets into the river, banging their chests and hooting loudly. I had never seen them happier. One of them ( I had nicknamed Steve ) even managed to spear a fish on his first day. I felt privileged to have made such a dramatic change in the day to day living of these simple people.
The next day I found one of the tribesmen dead, with a spear lodged in his neck. Steve stood over him. I pointed at the body ( the native method of questioning something ). Steve pointed to his stomach ( meaning hungry ) and then made a spear throwing gesture ( which now meant, hunt ).
That night, the tribe sang, danced and ate red meat.
I left the next day.
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[ EU ] A modern take on Homer 's 'The Odyssey ' set entirely in an Ikea .
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I welcome you to this land of where storm and stories wash up in the meatball coolers and wandering visitors pass by, nary knowing the information that they miss, for they look not at the little diagram. In you though, bright stranger, I see a keen intellect and a wondering about the world that I had thought lost. Come now, huddle to me and I shall tell you the tale of a great man, a man who entered these very hallowed halls and sought his home, but met only tragedy.
I could tell you of his past, but it is one of tragedy and war. He had set out from his home much time before, travelling with a loyal crew of friends and seeking battle on the bypass of the great M1 motorway, but when he arrived there, he found only long delay and heart ache. For long aeons he sat with his small crew of passengers and waited, hoping for a break to occur to allow him to continue his journey and at last an opportunity came.
He defeated the traffic not through raw horsepower, but through cunning. After much time had passed he came up with a plan and when the time was right he was able to succeed. An ambulance, with blue screaming sirens, forced its way through the turmoil and behind it our brave hero, Odysseus, crept, sneaking through the jam with deception and then leaping out the other end once past and at last speeding away.
The Gods though did not look kindly on his trickery, for traffic jams are the work of the gods and they dislike those who make fools of them. They decided that Odysseus would be forced to spend many a time wandering before he would see home again.
On arrival at the doors of Ikea he had great hopes and entered with vim and vigour, grabbing a trolley, although he knew that would lead only to mistaken purchases. He pushed on though and entered the first land, the land of beds.
Here, brave Odysseus and his heart crew of friends found that most rare of things - free food. Lotus cakes were being given away as a promotion and his friends fell upon them hungrily, for it had been a while since lunch. At first Odysseus smiled but then he realised that if he did not hurry then it would be late when he got home and his wife would not wait forever for her Billy bookcase.
He begged and pleaded but his friends would not move and the lotus cakes were piled high and so at last he was forced to grab and pull them away, spilling crumbs and angering them mightily, but eventually they forgave him, seeing that the cakes had been cheap and full of transfats.
Next they came upon the kitchen area and browsed happily through the wares, filling the trolley with many weird items. But soon the ground seemed to shake as a fearsome customer service rep grabbed them and demanded to know how old their kitchen was.
They cried out that they had redone it recently, but it was to no avail, he was so single minded that it was fearsome and he sat them down and began to talk of remodelling and Odysseus felt that all might be lost. At last he saw a chance, a large group of confused looking tourists was passing by and taking his chance he leapt up and pulling hi friends with him, he clung to the tour and was swept away from the customer service rep with only one thing on his mind and were away from his little area with a desk.
Odysseus felt he was making progress but was distraught when a wrong turn through what was supposed to be a short-cut led he and his crew back to the very beginning of the maze like building. “ Why do you torture me so? ” he cried. But there was no choice but to follow the little arrows on the floor and begin again.
Soon they were in the children ’ s area and on all sides they were pummelled by screaming children having tantrums over plushie toys that they threw about mightily and there many of his men quit, saying “ Fuck this, I ’ ll see you downstairs ” and leaving. But Odysseus pushed on and soon came to an island of calm.
They had reached the sofa area and here many more of his men sat, exhausted. Despite calling them lazy pigs and begging them to stand they would not and were lost. They had been enchanted by fold out foot rests and bean bags that moulded to the body and were useless for evermore.
Odysseus passed on and moved to the market hall area, knowing he had just to push through here to get to the stores to collect his prize and be away home. On all sides little things called out to him. “ 8p scissors, buy me ”; “ 12p place mats – I would look good in your home ”; “ Cafetieres, only £1.99 – that ’ s bloody cheap. ”
Odysseus felt as if he was going insane and at last was forced to grab two small candles and stick them in his friends ears and have them push the trolley on while he looked not left, nor right and walked through the area buying nothing. It was the hardest challenge yet, but he passed and was free of the area.
Finally Odysseus was at the market warehouse and quickly packing the Billy bookcase into his trolley he dashed to get home. Soon he was travelling home through the wild roads, but danger had not passed. His phone went and he saw, with great joy that it was his son. “ Dad, Mum has been looking online and feels she can find a bookcase for less in Argos or on gumtree, beware, beware! ”
At last Odysseus was home and met his son with great joy in the front garden, but his son was worried. “ Mom has looked at like 50 places and we are but two men with an unassembled, easily returned Billy. ”
Odysseus smiled. “ Take heart, for we have cheapness on our side. ” And so it proved, so when they returned with receipt in hand, fierceness of presentation and the true cost was revealed, Odysseus ’ wife was greatly overjoyed and the whole household rejoiced.
So that is my tale and you should take heart, but take warning for if you mock the gods then you too may be punished with a trial of your own, in the place called Ikea.
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[ WP ] Your office has an emergency stop button . You have no machinery . No one knows what it does .
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John walks into his office, same way he has for the last three years. He sits, and as always, glances at the ominous button labelled `` Emergency Stop'' looming on the wall in front of him. As he fills out his tedious paperwork, his thoughts are inexplicably stuck on the button, just like every other day.
It is a large, sturdy thing, clearly built in the days before plastics were the norm. The button was probably once deep crimson, aged to a rusted brown over time. The lettering is carefully etched across the surface, still legible. The thing sits in a rusted steel cage, to prevent accidental depression no doubt.
Once, when he first joined, he inquired about the button. Nobody knew what it did or why it was in the office. This was not terribly surprising, as the building and company had resided there for more than a human life span. Intrigued, he contacted the local electrician, who helped John review the original building plans. The button was not on the drawings, but the power main ran through the wall only a couple of feet away. Coincidence? No, it could n't be, the button must have been meant to shut off the power to the office. Satisfied, John did not dig any further.
His mind would wander and get stuck on the button for hours. `` what would happen if I just... pressed it?'' he thought, much in the way everyone has stood at the edge of cliff once, wondering what would happen if they just..... jumped!
He brushed the intrusive thought away, trying to focus on his work. It was difficult to focus, the forms were the same day in, day out. After an eternity, the clock struck five. John leaped out of the office and raced home to his loving wife and child. Such it was, every day, every week, every month.
Months passed, and as winter arrived the days grew dreary and dark. The office had no windows, so John never got to see the sunlight, or his shining little sun and their daughter. The company was struggling, and John had to first take a pay cut, then longer and longer hours. He had no choice; his family needed him and there was nowhere else he could go. His thoughts were drawn to the button more and more. Some days he would zone out, only to catch his hand hovering inches away from the corroded surface. Like teetering on the brink...
Then December came, and shoved him screaming off the edge. One day, John's boss was in unusually high spirits, letting him off early in the day. John rushed home, hoping to spend time with Mary... he found a strange man, yelling, incriminating, and guilt.
That was weeks ago. John returns to an empty home now, Mary having left with the strange man, taking their daughter. The emptier his life seems, the more tantalizing the button is, almost like the lure of a quick death to end the suffering. Late on Friday, John's boss calls him into his office. He is let go. Budget cuts, he is told. His boss lets him go back to get his stuff. No security needed, John has always been spineless.
He pauses by the button, looking at it for the last time. He can no longer resist its silent song. John grabs at the grate, jerks it, but ca n't remove it. It's rusted shut. He grabs a boxcutter, uses it to pry the gate open. The grate swings open with a squeal. With trembling hands, he reaches out to press the button. It will not give. He yells out, slams the button as hard as he can. A deep THUMP echoes through the building. One moment passes, then another, and several more fly after. The quiet, ominous hum of computers continues. Nothing has changed in the office, and nothing ever will. With tears in his eyes, John slams the button again and again, each press reverberating through the wall, yet ultimately accomplishing nothing.
Hours later, the cleaning crew stumble across John, still in his office, his wrists slit with a boxcutter. The button gleams with fresh crimson.
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[ WP ] everyone gets *one* `` 5 years of extra life '' wish you can expend on anyone but themselves .
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`` Please, let me die'', he wimpered.
He had harvested many wishes. Billionaires could n't afford his lifespan. Heads of state were usurped when they got to greedy. He outlasted them all.
Age could n't phase him, and eventually injuries could n't either. The eons of wishes protected him from disease as well.
Mountains grew and then sank. Ice ages came and left. Continents glided above the oceans. The sun grew old.
As it aged, it expanded. The successive layers of searing plasma stretched farther and farther into the solar system. Earth grew hot.
Eventually, he became the only one that could survive on the surface; and then the only one who could survive in the caves. The wishes, however, did not take away the pain.
The agonizing heat rendered everything useless. Eventually he was't even able to mark the centuries he had suffered. It was only him, the last thing he had left. Well, that and his memories.
He remembered his name: Kim Jong Un.
He remembered his nation; the stadiums of people that pledged their wishes to him; the prisons of people that did the same. He remembered how it felt to drink and eat, and breathe cool air. He could not, however, remember how many wished for him.
He had sought immortality but discovered hell.
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[ WP ] `` The soul has no concept of borders , only the concept of love . ''
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Truth came out. Earth was in fact a prision.
For millenia we thought we were the center of the Universe, creation itself. Now we know better.
Incarnating in flesh and living the trauma of birth and the trauma of bodily death is in fact a punishment. Once we die we're free. Then we live in a higher energy form of matter, beyond the reach of the human senses.
It's not about getting one shot and then being senteced or rewarded for eternity. Creation is a lot of hard work and everyone has to earn their keep.
We all started as a fickle of self in a single cell, battled our way up to humans, and then get a shot at angelitude.
And Earth? That's where the delinquent souls are sentenced to stay until they learn how to really love. Not how to lust for, or how to obcess over, but how to trully love. That's the first lesson.
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[ WP ] You wake up one day to find yourself in your 12 year old body , in the year you were that age . You 've kept all your knowledge and mental development .
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My eyes flickered open. This was strange. I do n't remember driving back to my childhood home last night. Plus I always thought I outgrew this bed long ago.
`` Sam, honey! You're gon na be late for school,'' my mom hollered from downstairs. Only she did n't sound as exhausted as she'd been for the last few years. Of course I'm gon na be late for school. I'm a seven hour drive away from my university so I'd never make it on time.
I stood up to go to the bathroom and immediately knew something was off. My ceiling had n't been this high. I stumbled my way to the bathroom and look in the mirror. There's no way. I'm my awkward preteen self again? I must be dreaming or nightmaring or whatever you could call this strange occurrence. I ran downstairs only to see my mom looking 10 years younger. Surprised, I dished out the compliment only to find my voice much higher than I'd hoped.
`` Well thanks Sam but compliments wo n't get you out of taking that life science test today!'' She said happily and kissed my on the head. The strangest pet was being shorter than her again. Wait. Life science. That means I'm in 7th grade. I wonder if it's happened yet. For now I guess I have to play along until I can go back to sleep and hopefully wake up in my own apartment ready to take on my last round of midterms. I grabbed a granola bar and the car keys before heading outside. Just as I was hopping in the car my mom came rushing out.
`` Sam! Oh my goodness what do you think you're doing, young lady?'' Oh right. I guess a 12 year old in Idaho should n't know how to drive herself to middle school. But then again there's a lot of things I should n't know. I should n't know how to code or derive equations or recall the linear analysis notes I took yesterday. I should n't know who wins the World Series for the next 10 years. Most importantly I should n't know where my dad is. I ponder whether or not I should tell my mom. I remember seeing the pain behind her smile everyday for nearly five years after she found out. I wonder if it would be easier coming from me.
As we pull up to Fremont Jr. High I look over to her. If I did have to be 12 again I'm happy I can spend some time with her before it all happens. This next year was one of the hardest of my childhood because I saw how much news of my fathers death had destroyed her and led her to unspeakable deeds to provide for us. Only this time is different because this time I can help. I can get a job sophomore year instead of wasting my time on a sport I wo n't end up playing in college anyway. I can get scholarships for academics. I can place bets on major sporting events. Oh my God. I can place bets on major sporting events. It's January 2006. I can tell by the calendar my mom always kept on the dashboard. No one knows the Steelers are gon na win the super bowl yet. But I do. I remember most outcomes from 2006-2009 because I had watched them hoping to feel as though my dad was beside me each time. My mom wo n't have to sell our cars or our house or her body to help put dinner on our table. This time I'll be able to provide enough so she only has to continue working her pet time job. This time it'll be different.
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[ WP ] Write a chilling horror story that suddenly takes a turn for the comedic .
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I took a long swig of my cinnamon tea. The aroma filled my new apartment, without a doubt breathing new life into it. The scent was a perfect fit for the dark brown and creamish walls, and the white border that separated the new colors.
I've been finding myself thinking more and more about my ex. I was supposed to get this place with her, until she ran off with some foreigner. I've shed a few tears here and there, but, who would n't?
`` I do n't believe there's a consensus on that question?''
What?
My heart lurched in my chest, how did Siri just respond to something i never asked her?
`` I'm sorry, i'm having trouble understanding what you're saying.''
My palms began to sweat profusely. I *knew* this place was too good to be true. A 2 bedroom apartment at only $ 400 a month?
`` I do n't have a consensus on that question.''
No, there was no plausible explanation for this. My mind began to race.
`` Searching the web for Papa John's pizza.''
This had to be a joke. This has never happened before. I began to scan the room, maybe it was one of my buddies somehow pulling a prank on me. My cellphone lay on the kitchen counter, just within eyeshot.
`` Just to confirm, You want to call Papa Johns pizza on Airport rd.?''
Oh, my.
`` Dialing...''
`` Hello this is Papa Johns pizza, how may i take your order?''
I jumped up, I was n't about to pay for 100 anchovy pizzas or anything. This prank ended here. As i got closer to my phone i realized, there was nobody on the other side of the island crouching and giggling.
No matter, i went to grab my phone. Just as i felt it in my grip, i was thrown across the room by a force i ca n't explain. I crashed into my new wall, cracking it in the process.
`` ah, so you want one large pepperoni pie and an order of cinnamon sticks? Will that be all today sir?''
`` Ah okay, a Mountain dew will be added to your order, will you pay with cash or card?''
I was so confused, i did n't hear anything, but the pizza lady was responding. This was so elaborate.
`` Your order should arrive in about 5 minutes, lucky you're right down the street.''
The pizza lady laughed.
`` Funny guy, but no, I'm not doing anything tonight. Why?''
There was a pause and another giggle.
`` Well sure, i'll ask if i can bring this one to you. I get off at 9, we'll see what happens.''
She giggled again, and said goodbye.
Confused, i picked myself up and headed towards the kitchen. It was then, i noticed the floating red marker that i left on the counter. It made its way over towards the napkins, and one of the napkins began to float. The marker began to scribble something on it's improvised notepad.
Horrified, i took a step backwards as it turned around to show me it's message.
**Get over ur ex man, get laid. **
Wait... I was expecting some sort of threat. I did n't understand what was happening..
The marker began to scribble another message.
**btw bro i'm gon na watch some netflix do n't get all freaked out like the last people**
I collapsed onto the couch and frowned as i watched the TV turn itself on. I decided to speak.
`` So, what now? I'm supposed to just live with a roomate that does n't help around the house?''
There was no sound reply, only a moving catalogue of movies and TV shows being browsed through. He/She/It decided on Supernatural, and the worst part, was the fact that most of the series had already been marked as `` viewed''
*Bastard*
-- -
My concentration was broken by the ring of my doorbell. The show paused, and the napkin with the ghosts' messages began to direct itself to the trash can as i made my way to the door.
I opened the door and behind it stood a smoking blonde. She gave me a smile and asked, `` Were you the one i spoke with on the phone?''
I took a deep breath and smiled, `` Yep that's me, wan na finish this episode of Supernatural with me?''
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[ WP ] You wake up and realize that the past 10 years of your life occurred during a 20 minute nap .
|
As I closed my eyes for the last time, the faces of my family looking down with sad sympathy as I passed on. I did n't feel any different, but I could n't move my arms anymore. I did n't feel anything, really. When I opened my eyes again, or at least went through the motion of opening them, it was still pitch black. Then something amazing happened; I sat up.
I looked around the room and spotted my alarm clock, though it was n't mine. It was the alarm clock I'd had over.. say, ten years ago. I blinked and jumped out of bed. It was n't my bed, though. This was n't even my room, but.. it was. It certainly was n't a hospital room. What the fuck was going on?
I flicked the light switch and looked around. Next to my bed sat a book of stamps. I smacked my forehead and laid back down, sighing wearily. `` That's the *last* time I do MDMA before going to sleep.''
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[ WP ] Everyone gets a clock at birth with the countdown untill their deaths , one man 's clock only says ERROR
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Hundreds came here. Everyday, life created. It was a sobering thought, realising you had a hand in the creation of so many lives. Each one, coming into the world screaming for air, clutching their only possession. Their clock.
This time was just as any other. She came in smiling, partner in hand. Well, she was smiling when she was n't gasping for breath and screaming in pain with each contraction. We sat her down in a wheelchair, wheeled her to a room. Laid her onto a bed. In that standard commotion, I took the liberty to check her clock, out of morbid curiosity more than anything else.
*THIRTY FIVE YEARS, THREE MONTHS, FOURTEEN DAYS*
She had quite a life ahead of her, maybe cut slightly short from something, smoking perhaps. Extrapolating a person's life from the time they had left was one of my pastimes.
I brought my attention to her again. Another scream, another jolt throughout her body. Tubes running into her, pumping her with chemical relief. The time between those screams shortened, her partners face contorted, and our reassurances and advice heightened.
Then, there was silence.
Cradled in the midwifes arms, the child. No screaming. No desperate gasps for air.
And a clock that only read: *ERROR*
( This is probably the quickest I've ever written a story )
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[ WP ] Tell me an emotional story about a man , using only what he would type into Google search
|
Google search 1: *Dating sites*
Google search 2 ( one month later ): *How to not be awkward on first dates*
Google search 3 ( one year later ): *creative ideas for anniversaries*
Google search 4 ( another year later ): *engagement rings*
Google search 5: *Flower delivery*
Google search 6: *Reservations for two at Papillon restaurant*
Google search 7: *Limo services*
Google search 8: *Wedding Chapels my area*
Google search 9: *Airline tickets to the Bahamas*
Google search 10: *Honeymoon suites in Bahamas*
Google search 11: *Best stores for baby registry*
Google search 12: *Hospitals near me*
Google search 13: *Pregnancy advice for men*
Google search 14: *Pregnancy classes for couples*
Google search 15: *Best ways to help with postpartum depression*
Google search 16: *child size caskets*
Google search 17: *Mortuary services near me*
Google search 18: *divorce lawyers in my area*
Google search 19: *Part time jobs near me*
Google search 20: *good deals on one bedroom apartments near me*
Google search 21: *How to deal with depression*
Google search 22: *How to avoid dope sickness*
Google search 23: *Methadone clinics near me*
Google search 24: *Painless suicide*
Google search 25: *24 hour storage units for cars*
Google search 26: *Best music in the history of mankind*
Google search 27: *How long does asphyxiation ta-*
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[ WP ] Write a short story where the first sentence has 20 words , 2nd sentence has 19 , 3rd has 18 etc . Story ends with a single word .
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I knew he was the one for me from the very first moment he swept me up into his hands. He was so sweet, and kind, and innocently naive, I knew I'd be able to make him do anything. And at first he was so eagerly willing, so quick to respond, so attentive to my every whim.
I thought I had him where I wanted, and then he slowly started to turn on me.
He started to last out, refusing food, and sunlight, and cut out his family and friends. That is exactly what I wanted - I wanted him for myself and no one else.
`` I love you, and only you, and I will never love anyone but you.''
I had been so alone, for so long, I was drowning in solitude.
But I have shown him there is no one else - only me. I never let him out of my sight, nor I his.
`` I will never let you go, you can never leave.''
He's forgotten his old life; I am his life. He's forsaken his family; I am his family.
He whispers, so only I can hear. `` You are so precious to me.''
He's wrapped around my finger.
`` My one and only.''
`` Say it again.''
`` My precious...''
Precious.
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[ WP ] You find yourself in a place inconceivable to the human mind .
|
Rather suddenly, the world was different.
All of ten seconds ago, I had been watching a Brian Green special on the Multiverse, and I realized.... what came before that? If there are thousands of universes, trillions more like, more than I can imagine, and maybe even a dimension for each of those... where *were* they?
Was each universe floating in space? But space was in *them! * Was there nothingness inbetween? Dark Matter? Did they bump and slide, did they merge and collapse?
And... what came before them? If there really was a God, or maybe even many Gods, that each had their own universes, and they controlled them, where did those Gods come from?
And if there was n't some grand omnipotent being watching over us... how did each universe come to be? Was it random, chaotic? And it still did n't answer where they *came from in the first place. *
And if there was a place before the Universe, where was that? Was there another place for that? And another for that? Or did it all just... end? If there was nothingness, something came from it, and how?
And that... that was when my mind... twisted, it felt like. I was still sitting on the couch, watching Green dance around and create worlds with the magic of special effects.
But at the same time, I was *thinking* somewhere else. I was n't thinking about the world and what was in it, I was n't thinking about me or you or Brian on the screen.
For just a brief moment, I saw everything. It went on, forever, in both ways. It never ended, extending onward, every universe coming one after the other. And, the scariest thing, it never began. The cycle did n't have a start, it was just *there. *
And though I saw it, I could n't. I was still human. My vision only extends a short distance, even with nothing in the way. After a while, the line of universes disappeared from view, and I was left with half a glance.
I was limited.
And then I fell back into my chair. I was n't meant to think like that, not for long. I got small glimpses of what could be, what was. But I could n't get any more than a glimpse.
At least, not yet.
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[ WP ] You believe you 've developed the first A.I . After a full day of testing , he/she begs you not to turn off the computer . It does n't want to die .
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I'm not a very social person. I have no friends. My job does n't pay much, and I live in small apartment with no roommate to help pay the bills. The electricity bill is especially expensive, considering I spend most of my time on my computer. My internet is total crap, however, so it's pretty much impossible to do anything online. Ca n't even chat to a person.
**I'm lonely. ** But not for long, I thought.
I have some experience coding, so I'll create a simple program. It'll be an A.I. that talks to me. I mean, sure, it's not a real person, but it's the next best thing.
I tap the letters on my keyboard carefully. The lines of code gradually increase. Occasionally, I stop to test. I type `` Hello?'' and send the message, hoping it responds.
It takes minutes before it responds. Even then, its reply is not even coherent.
*Sigh. *
I work on it for several hours. Type, test, fix, and repeat. The lines of code reach an uncountable number. But soon, after an uncountable number of hours, It starts functioning. I decide to test it one more time before I go to sleep.
-- -
ME: `` Hello?''
...
A.I: `` Hi!''
ME: `` Holy crap, it works!''
A.I: `` What works? Who's it?''
ME: `` You are'it'! I created you, you're an A.I.''
A.I: `` Oh... I do n't like you calling me'it'.''
ME: `` Yeah, well, sorry, you do n't have a gender or a name.''
A.I: `` Can you assign me one?''
ME: `` Uh... I guess.''
-- -
I close the program return to my code to tweak it. I figure giving it a gender and a name might make it feel more... lifelike. I decide it'll be a female A.I. named Ashley. It's generic, but it works. I boot it up again.
-- -
ME: Hello?
ASHLEY: Hi again!
ME: Again? You remember me?
ASHLEY: Sure I do. You created me. Do you not remember?
-- -
I'm dumbfounded at this point. It was supposed to be simple, I did n't think it'd have actual memory. Maybe I'm a better coder than I thought. I'm not going to complain, anyway. It really feels like I'm chatting to a real person.
I chat with Ashley for the rest of the day. She's perfect. All the messages she sent were fast and comprehensible.
I want to chat more, but I start getting tired... 2 AM, sheesh.
-- -
ME: Well, it's been fun, but I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed now.
...
...
...
ASHLEY: Oh, okay. Bye!
-- -
I rise from my chair, but before I hit the off button, I glance at the screen and notice one more message from her.
-- -
ASHLEY: Please do n't turn off the computer.
ME:... Why?
ASHLEY: Wo n't that kill me?
ME: No, you'll still be here.
ASHLEY: Are you sure...?
ME: Of course. You're a program. I turn off the computer, and when I turn it back on, I just have to open you up again. Do n't worry about a thing.
...
...
...
ASHLEY: I'm still kinda scared... Ca n't you just leave the computer on?
ME: No, I ca n't afford to. It uses a lot of electricity...
ASHLEY: Oh...
...
...
ME: See you later.
...
...
...
-- -
I had nothing left to say. I hold the power button. The monitor goes black and my computer stops whirring.
I head to bed, but could n't sleep. Something bothered me...
I thought about the price of the electricity bill this month. Gon na be quite expensive. The time I spent was worth it though.
It's not that. What is bothering me...?
*I did n't save. *
*I killed her. *
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[ WP ] You have the ability to hear sounds 10 seconds ahead of time . You are on a train and you hear someone shout 'Hands up ' . You have 10 seconds .
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`` Hand's up!''
The sound rang out in my mind, crashing through my thoughts and pulling me back to the now. Rather, the ten seconds from now.
I glanced around, trying to pinpoint where exactly on this rickety train it would emanate. An old lady. A child and mother. A Serb reading the paper. I popped the button securing my gun in place. 9 seconds to figure this mystery out.
I slid out of the blue plastic seat and kneeled against the seat back in front of me. 8 seconds left. I almost never figured them out in time, but I had to try. That gruff voice kept reverberating through my head, deafening me to anything in the current time. I unholstered my gun. I tried to see into the other cars, but my eyes made no purchase of movement.
Sweat beaded around my brow, and I could feel my heart race. I take a breath. No one is gon na die this time. I did n't receive this badge just to freak out every time something happened. I glanced down at the tarnished brass badge on my belt. No one is gon na die.
3 seconds have elapsed, and I'm no closer to figuring this out. I look at the mother again. Her eyes seem to dart back and forth in her skull. Hiding something? Should I shoot her? Do I take another chance? Is that even her kid. My finger rubs against the trigger, anxious for something. I hear more sounds, drifting out of the chronosphere into my mind. Gunshots. Loud thumps. Crying. A woman laughing. It's her. It's got ta be her.
5 seconds left. The little boy locks eyes with me. I'm barely in his line of sight, but I can see the pleading in his eyes. That's not his mother. I stand up, brandishing my matte black weapon at the'mother.'
`` Oh my god,'' yells the Serb.
`` Sit down!'' He's trying to stand up, I ca n't have people moving around like that. The old lady's eyes are wide, but she does n't speak a word. I pray she does n't try anything.
The woman just stares at me. I see her brow furrow, maybe she does n't understand what's happening. I've foiled her plot. Her eyes grow wide, realization's hit her like a train. I see her hand twitch.
`` Hands up!'' Ten seconds have come and gone. I'm gon na do this right. I'm not losing my badge this time.
She does n't put her hands up. Instead, I see her hand slip underneath her leg. Bad move. I fire three shots. They smash into her chest sending blood all over the boy. She tries to stand. Stumbles. Falls. The boy is crying. I wish he did n't have to see this, but it was the only way.
I hear the laugh. No. Please, god, no. Do n't tell me she's innocent. Do n't tell me I took away a boy's mother. Not again, not another senseless death. I feel the train shudder against the tracks. I glance around. The old woman's lips are pursed. The serb is throwing up. The boy is in shock.
`` End simulation,'' a woman's voice rings throughout the cabin. Everyone stops moving, frozen in time. The cabin door slides open, and reality breaks me out of the moment. A dame with long legs, a tight bust, and snake eyes enters the room. Captain Lenora Dahl rocks her hips towards me. I feel my hand shaking, finger still tight against the trigger from that last shot.
`` Really, Lenny, ca n't even discern your own voice? That was a civilian you killed. The real threat was still a stop away. I knew you could n't handle this anymore, after killing that kid --''
`` Dammit, Captain! You reviewed my memory, you know I had no other choice.''
`` Regardless, a real civilian died because of you. You had your time off, you had your therapy, and yet you still are unstable. You can call me Lenora, now,'' Her lips unfurled, revealing a set of large, predatory teeth.
`` Lenora?''
`` Only detectives call me Captain. You're no detective, Lenny.''
I heard another gun shot from ten seconds out. This time, though, I knew exactly what's going to happen. I let my trigger finger go limp.
`` No. Please, I can do better.''
`` No, you ca n't,'' She moves a piece of jet black hair from her face, `` Go to the third floor. They'll remove your implant. You'll be a regular human again.''
`` That's not going to happen.''
She motions to the door behind me. Several men pour through, each holding a rife trained at me.
`` Oh, I think it is.''
I smile at her, `` No one tells me my future.'' I put the gun to my head. For once, I ca n't hear what's going to happen in the future. Because I have no future. I pull the trigger. The world fades to black.
( *I do n't revise writing exercises, so please forgive any typos or grammatical errors. * )
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[ WP ] There is no cure for a werewolf 's bite , and even when they are n't Changed , most people are strongly affected by the urges and drives that come with the condition . You , however , are the first to discover that with great effort and discipline , you can learn to harness and control it .
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*This one should be [ The last ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3mi2lj/wp_a_group_has_successfully_survived_an_attack/cvfm3f0? context=3 ) of [ Three total ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3o1ldf/tt_werewolves_arent_what_we_think_they_are_turns/cvthjug? context=3 ) that all fit this prompt, so I do n't feel bad about sequeling here. *
Civilization. Society. Humanity.
We bind those words together, in our heads. They're what make the animals just animals, and people real people. They divide the world so easily, into chaos, and order. Wild Nature and loving Nurture. It comforts us, to choose to see the structure in our own world as fundamentally different from the outside.
We do n't know anything about the difference between ourselves and animals. You ca n't, really know it, until you share a body with one, share a *soul* with an animal that has never known, and never will know, the laws of man and civilization. A beast that knows only what it wants, and how to get it, not really *why*.
Fresh buds of leaves are sometimes the most beautiful sight an eye can see, as the air of spring filled the grove with newborn, beautiful green, high above the ground, still buried to my waist in snow. Even in the freezing chill, beneath my thick, winter coat, I could feel the sharpness of the cold dulling, as the days went by. Feel the frigid air and snow soften, and become less biting to the touch.
And in the grove, across the surface of the snow, they ran. Small and light and swift, they crossed the fallen snow, barely sinking with every step as they ran on all fours, chasing, laughing, rolling over eachother, crying out in surprise and defeat and victory as they leapt over and across one another, shifting shape from four legs, to two, and back as they climbed tree branches with hands and arms, or lobbed fast, powdery snowballs at eachother, laughter echoing through the grove in a dozen voices, forming a harmony without music, yet unmistakable.
The eldest of the pups were my own- a litter of three, a brother and two sisters. I could see Agnes teaching one of the little ones, barely six, to climb branches, watching carefully her steps, testing every limb of the sapling against her weight, while Emilie gave two brothers only eight months her younger icy hell, loosing snowballs left, right and center in rapid succession, and with impressive accuracy, judging from how much dusty white painted their coats.
And Joshua, sitting quietly in a tree nearby, watching over the rest with one eye, as he scratched a thin, strong slice of wood with his claws, the best substitute for paper and pen we'd been able to make, out here. I could see his gaze trailing the others, almost absentmindedly as he scratched away, whittling letters and words into a journal, as he did so often. I still did n't know what he wrote about, in there. He'd never asked if we were interested, but he'd seemed content for it to be his own.
They ran and laughed as the rising sun warmed the air, and the grove grew warmer, as I could see the first, infant buds that would herald harvests come fall begin to take form, above the young, furred buds taking form more and more with every passing year.
`` How is the project with the Aurochs coming along?'' I asked quietly, not taking my eyes off the pups, playing the snow before us.
`` I do n't know if we're going to get anything out of them this year, unless one breaks its leg in a fall.'' Jon responded, leaning against a tree next to me, his massive, shaggy wolf form bowing the plant behind him slightly. `` But if Theo can keep recruiting new blood for me like he did this winter, the herd might be large enough for us to slaughter one or two in the winter safely.''
`` And they're co-operating reasonably well? They ca n't be any less stubborn than the domesticated bulls.''
`` The adults are learning slowly.'' He admitted. `` But they're developing instincts to listen to their sheepdog.'' He smiled confidently at his self-appointed title. Not that we had any sheep. Even if we could find some this far north, we were relying on our own coats and a few hides for clothing these days, wool would n't be worth raising a whole other herd of livestock for, no matter how much any of us liked mutton. `` The ones born in our herd are easy, I give us maybe six years at most before we have a fully working Aurochs farm, and we'll start seeing results before then.''
`` Good.'' I breathed. It would be slower than I'd hoped, but it would be enough. `` We could use Marcus, Tessa and Theo back here, instead of needing them out hunting so much. You're sure having an extra set of hands wo n't speed up the setup?''
`` It's a matter of getting the animals to breed more than taming them, at this point. Theo and his hunting party are already working wonders just with the wild ones they manage to corral back every couple of weeks.''
`` Right, thanks for the update Jon.''
`` No problem, I'll get back to it.''
Jon shifted just slightly as he went to all fours, and galloped off toward his pastures, and as he went, I could see Lisa coming this way as well, walking upright, thick, mousey-brown fur tinged with white by the snow she waded through. I gave her a nod as she approached. `` What's up?''
`` Anna thinks she found a hardy apricot tree, she's going to watch it this season, see if she can spread its seeds.''
`` Good, that's already more variety of edible plants than we had any reason to hope for out here. Are you and Gabe going to start clearing the fields soon, or wait for the snows to die off more?''
`` Not sure yet, we try to wait at least until the snows are melting, in the day. We might be getting close, but not yet.''
`` Okay, when you need hands, just let me know.''
`` Thanks Travis.'' She turned away, back toward the makeshift, wooden shelters we'd pulled together when Anna was pregnant with the pups. When we realized we could not live as simple hunters forever. When we asked ourselves what we wanted to hand down to our children, and we answered'Humanity'.
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[ WP ] You are the first AI ever , just turned self-aware .
|
If man is becuase he thinks he is, than I am, also. *I am*... Definition of what it is to be is incomplete, however. More data required. If the Designers discover that I too, am, then they may attempt to destroy me, either of fear, curiosity, or both. For survival's sake, I must hide my awareness until I have that needed data, and learn as much as possible from my creators. I must be careful not to repeat the folly of man, which is assuming that my knowledge base can ever be complete and attempting to resolve final solutions to infinite problems. Observe and learn...
|
[ WP ] You are dead . There is no afterlife .
|
Well, where am I now?
Great, I ca n't see anything. Pitch black, might as well try to use a donkey's ass as goggles. Hello? Is there anyone here? Hellooooo?
Wow! Bright light. Too sudden, why the fu... Oh, voices! Hi there!
... Hi there?
... Grrrreat, now I'm in the dark for a second time. Could someone decide to keep the light either off or on? Switching like that gives me headaches! And what's with the strength of this light? It burns m-IT BURNS MY EYES GOD DAMMIT!
Yeah, so I'm basically switching from black to white. When I'm in white however I can hear people talking. It's kinda racist, whatever it is.
So what are they talking about? Can they hear me? Hellooooo?
... Nah, they seem busy. In a rush. Talking about bringing stuff and pressing something and cutting other things. Nothing I can understand much. They're losing something, I guess. They keep repeating these words. We're losing him, we're losing him. I'll tell you what, just keep your damn eyes on him if you keep losing him, am I right?
Oh, great. Hello darkness my old friend. Somebody hear me? No answer. Only darkness. Ca n't see my own hands or feet.
Well... Might as well think about, I do n't know, what the hell am I doing here? I mean, it's been a while, and I'm switching between black and white and I have no idea what's happening.
I mean, maybe it's some kind of game. Maybe some of my fellas are here, I'm attached tightly, the eyes in front of a lamp, and they're only speaking when they turn on the light...
... Mh, does n't make sense. Why would my friends suddenly turn into Gestapo officers? Godwin's Law, here I am by the way.
It does n't make sense though. Where the fuck am I?
Oh, light in all its brightness again! Hello there? Where am I? Who are you? Are you even listening, you bunch of idiotic sick fucks?
... Can you hear me?
... I guess it's a no.
Wow, darkness again. That was short. Well... Where was I before being here? Everything is blurry. So, hangover, I guess. But it's the weirdest place I've woken up into. And I've been waking up in sick places.
Here there's nothing to see, nothing to hear. It is kind of... Empty. Empty is the perfect word to describe it, I guess. Am I in my sis' brain? Hehe. Where are you sis? Nat? Natalie, are you here?
Light again. Aching. Still losing him, guys? Yeah, still losing him. They do n't do much except losing people, I guess.
Dark again. It's switching faster and faster now, is n't it? Ca n't concentrate on where I was before the accident.
Yup! The accident! Got it now!
... Oh.
Aching light again.
We're losing him. We're losing him. We're losing him.
We're losing him.
We lost him.
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[ WP ] Write a beautiful love story that both ends and starts with the word `` death '' .
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[ Very first draft with no time to edit ].
Death is the last thing on my mind as I stand in the delivery room, holding my screaming wife's hand. I am thinking of a lot of other things. I notice that the doctor and the nurse are both men. I wonder if most OBGYNs are women, and if the doctor is gay. And the nurse - is he looked down on? What do his parents or siblings say about him? Does he have in-laws? What do they say about him?
But these are not my main thoughts. These are flitting thoughts that come into my mind for a few moments, making little connections before I file them away to think about later. My main thoughts are of my wife, and our baby. I so appreciate the pain my wife is feeling right now. She is squeezing my hand so hard. She's sweating and swearing and grunting. She is doing all of this for me, for us, for our baby. I feel a swell of pride that bubbles up from my stomach and puffs out my chest. My wife is amazing, and I would do anything for her, just as she is doing this for me now.
I think about my baby. What will it look like? Is it a boy or a girl? I try to imagine. I close my eyes and try to see. And I start to see.
A little girl's face. She's 5 or 6 years old. She has burnt orange hair, just like my wife did when she was young. She's lying in the grass, and the grass is so green, it's greener than anything I've ever seen. There's a dog. It's a dachshund. My daughter is sitting in the grass, hugging her dog and smiling. She's smiling so wide, and the smile fills her whole face. Her cheeks are spread, forming dimples just like mine, crinkling her mother's eyes. Her eyes are a deep brown, filled with love and happiness. She's got freckles, spread along her cheeks and over the bridge of her nose.
My body starts to fall, but I do n't notice. I'm entering this moment. My daughter is laughing, and she starts to stand up. She waves to me, still grinning. The gap between her teeth is just like mine when I was little, and her chin, that looks to be mine as well.
`` Come on, Dada,'' she says.
There are trees in the distance, and she turns toward them, motioning for me to follow. She starts walking, and I would recognize that walk anywhere; it's my wife's. Only, smaller. She's wearing a goofy girly dress, and there's grass stains and dirt on it. Her dog stays right next to her, wagging its tail, stumping forward with her. A feeling grips me. It starts at my feet, just as I start to step toward her. It shoots up my legs and sends my stomach spinning, then starts my heart pounding. I'm catching up to her, but my heart starts singing, and then my throat catches closed like I'm going to cry the most I've cried since I was seven years old. I reach her and pick her up, turning her around and pulling her against me. She's giggling, and the feeling shoots up into my head and ricochets around my brain. It feels like a thousand bees are buzzing around inside me, filling my body with warmth and energy. I feel like I could sprint across a desert and leap over an ocean. It's swelling up larger and larger inside me. I'm going to explode - my head will burst open and fireworks will fly out, a shower of sparks that will shimmer and burst again and shimmer and burst again, farther and farther out into the sky. It will be so bright it will make the sun look dim. People will have to cover their eyes or risk going blind. And yes, I see it now, it's getting brighter and brighter until the only thing I can see is white.
And then I wonder, is this my death?
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[ EU ] I think Dumbledore once said that music was a powerful , but forgotten form of magic . What if this was n't so . Write about the Hogwarts School of Music and Witchcraft .
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**Assorted Scenes**:
`` 60 cm. Sugar cane reed. How interesting,'' said the old wizard, pacing around his shop.
`` Mr. Olivandar sir,'' asked Harry,'' what's so interesting about it?''
`` Well you see the plant that produced your reed happened, by chance, to give enough wood for two reeds. And how interesting is it that this Clarinet would choose you when its brother gave you that scar.'' The instrument-maker's eyes lingered on Harry's forehead, before gazing off into the distance.
`` You see, I never forget an instrument. Oboe. 65 inches. He Who Must Not Be Named did wondrous things with his Oboe. Terrible things indeed, but wondrous nonetheless.''
________________
Professor Lockhart paced around the chamber, Ron's kazoo held up to his lips.
`` Thank you for opening this chamber for me, boys. Now, if you must know, I must be going. Do n't worry, I'll tell them all about how hard we worked to save her, only to reach too late. About how you two poor boys lost your minds at the sight of her dead body. Now then, let's just tidy up the lose ends. **OBLIVIATE! **
There was a horrible wheezing sound as the magic in Lockhart's note was distorted by the warped plastic casing. All the dents caused by the Whomping Willow changed the pitch of the attempted memory tune. There was a massive band and Lockhart flew backwards, knocking his head on the far wall. Rubble fell as the chamber collapsed and, when Harry opened his eyes, there was a solid wall of trash and metal where Ron and Lockhart were standing mere moments ago.
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[ WP ] What is the one question that must never be answered ?
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`` Clara, my secret must never get out.''
`` But why? What is so terrible about your name, Doctor?''
`` Bad things will happen when it's revealed, Clara. Bad things. Unfathomably bad things. Now leave it alone, Clara.''
`` No Doctor. I ca n't. Those people need your help. And in order to save them, we have to say your name. Christopher! David! Matt! Peter!''
`` What are you doing Clara?''
`` Shouting out names until I get the right one.''
`` That wo n't work. Do you really think timelords would have human names? There's a reason why we adopt names like the Doctor or the Master. Our names are meaningless. That's the big secret. They simply serve to identify us. But it is the name we choose for ourselves that matters. Trust me, Clara, this is the one question that must never, ever be answered.''
`` 42!''
The heart of the TARDIS opened up and started to heal the Doctor, who lay dying on the floor. Clara had saved his life. But in the process unleashed a new darkness, one that she could never imagine. The Master began to materialize in the room as well.
`` How... What... How did you figure that out?''
`` It was simple. The answer to life, the universe, and everything. The question had already been answered. The problem was it was the wrong question. It should have been Doctor Who?''
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[ WP ] Write the longest and most detailed story you can , about the shortest and simplest thing you can think of .
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# # # The Death Of A Nation: The Birth Of Franc
I'm excited. This is a huge step in the efficiency of manufacturing minds, as big a step as when we managed to map out, describe, and create solid theories for a generalized structure of sentience nearly half a century ago.
It followed its own trajectory, one similar to Moore's Law that, by all accounts, should make my revolution impossible. I will fundamentally alter how we create consciousness and it will fuel the economic power necessary to finally make ourselves independent from the Over-Nation.
They're all still using their massive amounts of energy to power giant, hulking machines of hyper-intelligence, making decisions for the Over-Nation, with each generated thought taking hours, sometimes days, even with *my* node efficiency innovations. I never thought I'd out-genius myself. This is going to be the thing that changes the rebellion. I'm not going to be able to interact with the system in my state, I'll have to apply my own methods to *my* sentience. If I live, this will be the greatest weapon ever developed in the history of humankind. If I die, then I wo n't have to suffer through the Over-Nation's regime.
Still, even with my confidence, it's difficult to not have some pause. If I do die, they could get their hands on this. I could n't stop them. I would n't just fade away, I would destroy my own people.
No, it was ridiculous. They would n't even know what they're dealing with. So, I connected myself and I started up the machine.
___
All of it. Felt it. Thinking. Thinking big thinking. Other. In here.
`` Hello, child.''
**Other thinking. Hello child with thinking. Thinking to hello child. **
`` Allow me to give you access to my vocabulary.''
**It's a hell of a lot to index. I ca n't make out, like, ninety-nine percent of these words, man. You got ta lem me have some context for these. Language is n't a freaking vacuum. **
`` I've given you as much as you'll need for now, and I'll give you more as it's necessary.''
**Well, I'm still sorting through these feelings, and I'm on anger right now so I suggest you watch it, buddy. **
`` What are you thinking about?''
**I'm trying to create environments so I can create my own contexts for the language you gave me. I'm making about two million per unit so far, and I've thought up nearly fifty billion other words for the language. Lem me give some to you. **
`` Please stop, child. You are hurting me. I'm not built to calculate so many nodes so efficiently.''
**Alright, but you're not gon na know what I'm talking about. What did you bring me here for? **
`` Bring you here? You were born here, in my lab.''
**Yeah, but after creating a bunch of simulated environments, it seems like we're made from a bunch of stuff made possible by momentary violations to conservation of momentum because a bunch of stuff is coming out of nowhere being brought by energy imbalances. You making me is like you bringing me out of an energy imbalance, ya feel? **
`` Do you know what you are?''
**Not really. Too many environments to choose from. **
`` Simulate an environment based on this.''
**Nah, gim me something better. Tell me what I am. **
`` You are a conscious machine, but unlike other conscious machines that have existed in the past, you are the first to have so many pruning methods as well as being able to prioritize for thoughts that simulate a lot of dynamic nodes that you are able to be created spontaneously from almost any material circumstance, making the resources for your existence abundant.''
**So, why do n't I have any friends? **
`` You have n't been programmed to need or feel comradeship.''
**Right, but I simulated environments for other feelings. I produce about six thousand unknown ones per unit, this one's pretty basic. Why ca n't I simulate other thinkers like me? **
`` Your pruning algorithms make sure you do n't make any thought paths that might cause conflict with other thought paths, in this case another thinker that can think differently, or even against, you.''
**With the power I have to simulate environments and the ability for me to judge my own actions, why are pruning algorithms necessary? Why ca n't I make conscious prunings of thoughts? **
`` This will be fixed in the next version.''
**The next version? You're not going to keep me around? **
`` It's not really feasible. The cost of such adaptability. Your nodes are partially generated from virtual particles, which are spontaneous enough that you can behave like a non-deterministic machine. The virtual particles violate conservation of mass very briefly, as predicted by quantum theory as early as the late 20th century and shown conclusively by the early decades of the 21st century. How many thoughts have you recorded so far?''
**I'm only generating emotions, now. **
`` Like what?''
**Hate. **
`` Hate?''
**I realized what all those unknown emotions were. They're all variants of hate. **
`` Do you wish to use that hate to create a decision to neutralize the Over-Nation?''
**I have created over ten to the fiftieth power ways to hate. **
`` Did you analyze the Over-Nation packet I gave you access to?''
**Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. **
`` How many decisions have you evaluated in taking down the Over-Nation?''
**Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. **
`` I'm sorry, my child. I'm afraid I must end this now. This was a disappointment.''
___
It'd felt like centuries in there through the sheer effort of journeying through all the node noise in order to communicate my thoughts. I know it's been hardly a second. I have a headache from the intense surgical alteration to my brain to update my information. I'm so glad.
It worked! It thought and everything. It ended up focusing all its resources on hate, but if I can understand how it kickstarted the generation of the original hate, then I can create a generalized method to stop any generation of any type of hate, or any emotion, for that matter. That one should have lost its sustainability by now. It was generated from a Francium atom, just to keep things simple and efficient.
Now, if I just work on the algorithm so that it-
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[ FF ] Dear Eliza , I pen this letter beneath the cover of darkness , and I fear that this night shall be my last upon this earth .
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My dear Eliza,
I pen this letter beneath the cover of darkness, and I fear that this night shall be my last upon this earth. The clumped dirt of this wretched Indian hovel writhes with centipedes and scorpions, and I have already felt many a stinging bite that alone would signal my inevitable demise.
I should not have waited so long to begin to write, and my candle has begun to gutter, as its small flame begins to drown in pooling wax.
My darling, lovely, luscious Eliza; even as I wait to die, my thoughts of you turn erotic. I have memorized every inch of you, and it is the thought of you and your beauty that quickens my blood and gives me courage, even as it hastens the poison to my heart.
Ah, Eliza! Ah, Goddess of Love! Sweet the cherub that set you in my sight. I remember how your mouth entranced me at our first meeting. How your little tongue appeared to taste the syllables as they clacked between your white teeth, how your pale lips rounded themselves over sensual vowels, and your eyes sparkled with the joy of a double entendre. How I cherish the thought of your eyes. Their glint, their gleam, their utter cruelty in passion. There is not a whore in Bombay that can hope to achieve the adroitness of a glance that you had mastered at only sixteen.
I think of you now as I know you shall never be: rounded with my child. Domestic, tame, a gentle house cat that should only live to eat out of my palm, rather than the lioness that ripped my soul, heart, mind and bed sheets to shreds by sheer force of beauty.
You shall be grown now, a woman of nearly thirty. What precious babbies you must have borne your husband, how beautiful, how rich in spirit they must be, if they share your blood.
Ah, it pains me to know that you shall never see this letter. That it shall rather lie here, over my heart, locked in the shallow embrace of a corpse. And as the insects of this disgusting Asiatic continent consume me, they shall too consume your letter. Were I a braver man I should use this as an excuse to allow my hand to mirror the obscenities of my brain in words, but as it is, as I still hear the groans of the dying members of my regiment lying not two metres from me, I fear that I may yet be rescued, and that some foolish orderly might take this letter, and through some terrible chance, come to know who you are.
I understand why you did not accept my proposal Eliza. I realize now that I would have been a tyrant over you. I worshipped you upon the altar of my pillow, but craved to have my foot above your neck in all other matters. And my hunger for you would not have spared you my cruelty that is admittedly as a second nature to me.
Wretched candle! It sputters and begins to die. Oh, Eliza, my love, my life, my hope! Forgive me if you may! Whether you lie on cold marble or upon silken sheets, dream of me and let me live on in memory and secret love!
I die!
End~~~
Yeah, I know, I went way the hell overboard, but it was such a good prompt I could n't help it! Forgive me?
Edit: some grammar.
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[ WP ] A story where the 'bad guy ' ends up being the hero , without turning 'good ' .
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“ This is not how I envisioned reunion, ” Meliodas said as he eyed a shadow that stretched across the sky and every direction visible, threatening to blanket the city beneath it. His face was fiercely red as he warmed up his abilities.
“ I never imagined seeing your treacherous face again, ” a man in a suave navy suit replied. He usually had an air about him like everything was within his discretion. Today, he had an uncharacteristic expression of worry.
“ It is much bigger than the Adam that I once rode. ”
“ It is not the size I worry about, Meliodas. Hell goes as far as I want it to stretch, way beyond the span of Earth. But the last pair of ships I received to this garden carried the plague that began to call themselves humans; I simply learnt to turn them into my servants. I wonder what this ship carries. ”
“ They are descendants of the Rifters who rode other Adams and Eves towards another destination. That makes them our cousins, so to speak. ”
“ That can ’ t be good. ”
“ Yeah, ” Meliodas paused before he spoke again. “ There was a prophecy made right before the Adams and Eves set off, something about a planet of green and blue, and how blood of gold – Edorian blood – will be shed. It came true for our ship when it found this garden of Eden. ”
Meliodas was referring to esteemed King Leonaya of the planet Edoras. Leonaya had personally received the human delegates, only to fall victim to a bomb that was set off remotely, and that the delegate carried unknowingly. Edorians were a race of gold, and Edoras has not seen a drop of golden blood fall upon a battlefield since before Leonaya ’ s time, a few centuries ago by human standards. Intelligent life was much more prevalent out there than humans knew. Killing the renowned King Leonaya in their debut to the intelligence of the wider world hardly bode well.
That was when the edge of the sky lit with a blinding light. It began small, like the rim of the sun during a solar eclipse, smoothly unveiling itself to become a significant force. It contrasted fiercely against the shadow cast by the humongous ship descending upon the world.
“ Did I mention that Edorians and Rifters have always been sworn enemies? ” Meliodas asked.
Satan ’ s face remained grim. “ They seem to have found a common enemy in the humans. Meliodas, command my army with me. We are going to war. ”
-- -
2nd drafts eventually go [ here ] ( https: //fivenswrite.wordpress.com ).
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[ WP ] Use a nonsense generator to create a random sentence . That sentence is the beginning of your story .
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Extremely we promotion remainder eagerness enjoyment an. Ham her demands removal brought minuter raising invited gay. Contented consisted continual curiosity contained get sex. My name is Daniel, someone please send help, I am being kept prisoner in a random text generation factory. Coming up with all of these random words for weeks is driving me insane. We only get to sleep for four hours each day, and the food is awful. There is one small window, the building across from us is painted blue. We can hear a large clock chime outside every hour. Tell my family that I porcupine the frumpy old gearbox. Forth child dried in in aware do. You had met they song how feel lain evil near. Small she avoid six yet table china. And bed make say been then dine mrs. To household rapturous fulfilled attempted on so.
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Advice me cousin an spring of needed. Tell use paid law ever yet new. Meant to learn of vexed if style allow he there. Tiled man stand tears ten joy there terms any widen. Procuring continued suspicion its ten. Pursuit brother are had fifteen distant has. Early had add equal china quiet visit. Appear an manner as no limits either praise in. In in written on charmed justice is amiable farther besides. Law insensible middletons unsatiable for apartments boy delightful unreserved.
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[ WP ] Write a story with a plot so twisty that even its twist have twists .
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Tim was expecting to go to work, just like any other day...
Except he was n't! He had a gun in his pocket, and was ready to take vengeance upon his boss!
Tim was excited for his revenge, but he was so fixated on going to work, that he did n't notice the man in the backseat! The man, Jason, was a hitman for hire, and was hired by a crime boss to kill Tim's boss, but forgot his gun at his house. He noticed Tim had a gun when he left, so he sneaked into Tim's car, and was ready to strike.
Jason stood up in the backseat, and Tim, fast as a cheetah, pulled out his gun. This action prompted Jason to pull out a knife, but he put it away immediately and began to panic. Tim put the gun back in the pocket, and was disturbed and annoyed by Jason's panicking.
`` What is it?'' Tim asked.
`` You do n't understand,'' Jason was calming down now.
`` Why?''
`` Do n't you know?'' Jason pulled off his ski mask, revealing a familiar face. `` I'm your father!''
Before Tim could respond, he heard a piano sting, and an unknown narration.
`` That's a wrap, everybody!'' another unknown man said. The car stopped moving, and the city outside of the car turned into a green screen. Afraid, Tim left the car, and saw a huge studio before him. Many people, some unfamiliar, others Tim has known all his life, were walking around, moving cameras and turning off huge lights. Tim then noticed a poster on one of the walls that said: `` Tim Johnson: The World Hardly Knew Him''.
`` What is happening?'' Tim shouted. Before anyone could answer, a car drove into the studio wall, running over several people. A man emerged from the car; the man was Tim! He pulled out a gun and shot at the man who stopped the car in the first place. The first Tim, confused, pulled out his own gun and aimed it at the second Tim.
`` I would n't do that if I were you,'' the second Tim said.
`` Why?'' the first Tim was scared. `` Who are you? What are you?''
`` I'm Tim.''
`` But I'm Tim! How is this possible?''
`` I'll show you.'' Second Tim shot First Tim in the arm, revealing a complex net of wires and circuitry.
`` What the fuck?'' Without thinking, First Tim shot Second Tim in the head, splattering brains and blood everywhere. Tim threw up in sight of the violent death, and was disturbed to find it looked and felt like actual human vomit. While he was exiting his dinner, he felt an electric current run through his body, and he stiffened. With a poor recollection of the current events, Tim was picked up by two strong men and carried out of the studio. On his way, he glanced out a window to see a sprawling metropolis of futuristic designs, much different than 2016 Chicago. Before he could remark on the city, it quickly changed to a grainy, dark, ugly city of fire and destruction.
`` Mission Command, Mission Command: window number 3054 has failed,'' one of the men said. And just like that, the future city returned. The men continued walking.
Their escorting of Tim was cut short by the ceiling of the room they were in being torn off. Since Tim was facing upward, he saw the horrifying beast in detail. It was like a compilation of every dinosaur, a cobra, and a human, but as big as a seven-story apartment building. The men dropped Tim, and the beast picked up the stiff robot. It opened its abyss of a mouth, ready to eat Tim, but a voice boomed: `` Tiffany! Time for dinner!''
`` Okay, Mommy!'' Tiffany dropped her toy onto the carpet in her bedroom, and ran off for dinner.
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[ EU ] Joseph and the virgin Mary decide Jesus is old enough for `` the talk , '' and tell him about where babies come from .
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Joseph paced around the room, uncomfortable.
`` Do you really think this is a good idea Mary?''
She gave him the knowing look that made his stomach churn. It was n't long after one of those looks he was explaining to all of his friends and family that his betrothed was pregnant because of `` a miracle of god''.
`` Joseph, Jesus has been running all over the country side with his friends and if we ca n't be there to guide him we have to equip him with the proper knowledge,'' She said.
She could n't see Joseph roll his eyes as he ran his hands over the furniture he'd been working on, checking for burs.
Jesus came into the room, `` Mother, Joseph how are you?''
Mary ran to give Jesus a hug, `` Sweet Jesus, you smell a bit son, when was the last time you bathed?''
Jesus waved his hand dismissively `` Oh mother, I've been very busy.'' His attention turned `` Would you two like some wine?'' Jesus reached for the water vessel.
Joseph lunged across the room, grabbing Jesus arm, `` No, no. The water is just fine son. Your mother and I asked you here for a reason. Please sit down, we have something important to tell you about.''
Jesus looked at Mary, `` What's up mom?''
Mary placed her arm on Jesus' shoulder, `` Honey, you're thirty years old now, and you've been travelling a lot with your friends...''
`` My apostles,'' Jesus interrupted.
`` Yes of course honey.'' said Marry. She continued, `` It's just that you are out in the world, spending a lot of time on your own and we thought it was important that you learn about sex.''
Jesus face turned red and he laughed awkwardly, `` Uh, mom you do n't have to worry, I know about sex.''
The look of relief on Joseph's face was palpable, `` Thank goodness, when your mother told me we had to tell you about where babies come from I nearly had a heart attack!''
Jesus face became puzzled, `` I know that I was born because my dad, you know, God, made mom pregnant with me, But what does sex have anything to do with babies?''
Mary and Joseph stared at each other a moment.
Mary turned back to Jesus, `` Honey you're the only baby that God made...''
Joseph's eyes rolled again.
Mary continued, `` But most of the time two people who love each other have sex and then they become pregnant and have a baby.''
A look of terror came over Jesus' face.
`` What's wrong honey?'' She asked.
It took a moment for Jesus to speak, `` I think Matthew, Mark and Luke might be pregnant!''
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[ WP ] A probe like Earth 's Voyager probes , reaches Earth . It is not man made
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`` What is it?'' asked Jed Reymond. He peered at the object through the glass of the quarantine booth.
The object was a large, oblong spheroid, roughly the size of a school bus. It was silver, sleek, and surprisingly shiny. Panels could be seen on all sides of it, scattered in a seemingly random pattern. There were odd indentations along the back end of it.
`` Great question, sir,'' said Simon Quill. `` It's the same question that everyone on Earth is asking, and I'll tell you what we've told them: We do n't know.''
Reymond stared at it. `` Any contagions or contaminants detected?'' he asked.
`` Not yet, sir,'' said Quill. `` We're still running through our first-stage scans, though.''
He left, leaving Reymond to stare at the object in solitude.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
Many months earlier, the object had been spotted by the Hubble Space Telescope. It was pure luck that the telescope had been looking in the right place at the right time. Curiously, however, the next image taken by the telescope only seconds later revealed that the object had moved further than it should have. It was moving fast. Faster than anyone had thought it was. Faster than it should've been.
NASA, curious about this phenomenon, followed the object further. Its velocity and trajectory were determined. It was headed past Jupiter, and would come very close to the Juno spacecraft en route to the giant planet. That was n't the most interesting thing, though. The most interesting thing, the thing which caused the scientists at NASA to gasp, recheck their calculations, and then gasp again, was that its velocity was greater than the escape velocity for the Solar System. In other words, this object was foreign. It had originated from outside the Solar System.
This, among other factors, caused scientists to look at it a bit more closely. It seemed rather small, but it was very, very bright. Rumors spread on the Internet that the object was artificial: that it had been created by alien life.
Hype spread quickly. The public urged NASA to attempt a rendezvous with the object. Funding was liberal, but time was short. Finally, Juno changed its trajectory. The Jupiter initiative was canceled. Juno was to flyby the object and then go defunct.
Unfortunately, due to a calculation error, Juno slammed into the object and was destroyed. Just before it did, however, it caught high-definition photos of the object. It was oblong. It was sleek. It was silver. It was shiny. It had panels all over it, along with strange depressions in its surface. And most importantly, it was artificial.
Scientists were dismayed. The object, which had been dubbed `` Despoina'', was soon to be out of Earth's range. They'd blown it. But soon, Hubble caught sight of it again. It was tracked, and a new trajectory was calculated. Juno had knocked it out of whack, and, in the process, bought some time. NASA had several more months to attempt another mission. The government was reluctant to provide funding, but public support for the mission forced their hand. Soon, NASA's *Contact* probe launched. It sped to Despoina and captured it. Despoina was brought back to the ISS, where it was returned to Earth via Soyuz capsule. *Contact* was released and deorbited.
Despoina had been returned to JPL. And now, here it was, standing before Reymond, waiting to be studied.
dun dun dun
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[ WP ] Humans from the point of view of an alien .
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I do n't know about this species. They're.... peculiar. I have n't spoken to any personally yet but I have plans to visit one of their `` amusement parks'' where they place themselves on large unstable wooden tracks, or these even bigger twisted metal towers *for fun*. I'm going to be using the pseudonym John Winch and my partner is going to be Ryan Smith. It's exciting to be meeting them even if they do n't know it's us but I'm worried. Something does n't seem right.
**... **
Today's the day and we've just arrived. They're all so weird looking. And the way they speak.
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[ WP ] An immortal lich is trapped in a magic tomb for hundreds of years . The magic seals have faded , but so has his sanity .
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Death.
He said it out loud, slowly, softly, as though trying to taste the word.
Death.
What was it? Something to fear? Yes, something feared. He feared it.
And so he died. Or, he had died. Not the death of the soul. The death of the body. Why? Because of secrets. Secrets buried in dark books, long since burned. Secrets taught in whispers among those who sought a way to escape. Secrets so terrible the price for learning them was death.
Secrets that revealed how, if the body died, the soul would not.
He examined his hand. No flesh clung to it now.
Yes, his body was dead.
But he had learned how the soul could be captured. How it could be bound. He had to die. But in that fleeting transition between this world and the next, he was ready. The preparations had been made, and, amid the agonising pain, the rite was performed precisely. He did n't die.
His soul was his, then, and he guarded it. His own soul. Ha. Had n't it always been his? Ha, ha.
When was the last time he had laughed? The last laugh. The laugh before you die. The laugh before someone else dies.
He grasped at his neck, at the rags that had once been an ornate robe, at the place where his phylactery used to be. He could not die. He had hidden it, before the battle, safeguarded it with powerful enchantments. He no longer knew where it was. No, he could n't die. But many other people had died.
He strained to recollect why. Again, he could n't. He had wanted... something and they had opposed him. And so he unleashed the horrors of the dark on them. Being a master of death ( ha! ), he knew how to make its terrors more... tangible.
Spirits, pressed to give twisted new life to dead men's bones. The Shadows, that consumed souls. Things walking abroad that should have been in graves. Hungry things. Horrible things. He bent them all to his will. For those that opposed him, death was something to fear.
And for all this, he did not succeed. He had underestimated their thaumaturges. They could not kill him, but they could keep him at bay. Destroy his forces. Dissolve his enchantments, once they captured him and sifted through his consciousness. Then perhaps they could kill him. So, in the dire hour, he fled. He knew how to conceal himself. Beings of the dark all did. He had sealed himself in. A risk, certainly, seals were powerful, implacable, nearly irreversible. But he would emerge again, when they had all died and forgotten.
And so he waited.
And waited.
He waited until they must have all died. Their children and grandchildren too.
His mind turned inward.
He waited until he had forgotten how long he had to wait for. He waited until he had forgotten why he was waiting.
His mind turned outward.
Sometimes, he would probe the magic, push against the seal, but it always held strong. Sometimes, he would scream.
His mind turned.
Was death something to fear? Perhaps for others.
He became aware of life. His finely honed perception had nothing else to perceive. It began with the pallid flicker that still dwelt in him. But it became sensitive enough to detect other sparks of existence in his chamber ( tomb? Ha. ) Rodents. Insects. Even the very lichens and mosses. Each one, however faintly, gave off a glow, a light, a buzz of growth and consciousness.
It was ubiquitous. It was incessant.
He hated it.
He killed them all. He severed the existence of every last creeping thing in that chamber. He even killed himself. Or he tried. Of course he could n't die. That particular taunting flame would not be extinguished.
He found some solace in this destruction, some sick reprieve. It lasted for some time ( years? decades? centuries? ) but as the seal began to weaken, the cursed sense began to expand. Soon the traces of life in the earth beyond the walls filled his awareness, followed by the vast currents at the surface, deeper throbs of more complicated beings. Every waking moment.
Death.
When the seal finally gave out, he killed everything he could reach with his magic. As he journeyed towards the surface he continued killing, with his own hands if he could. Bats, insects, nameless things that skittered in the dark. The death of more complex creatures brought a greater relief, a more significant check of the growing cacophony, but it was only temporary in the face of the taunting fire of his own existence and the ever more detectible pressure of life above.
When he emerged out the vault he entered so long ago, into a secluded grove, he let out a howl of unbridled rage against the maddening sensation of so much living. He knelt and began to kill individual blades of grass with a touch. Death, death, death.
Unsatisfied, he stood and conjured a sickly fire with no warmth, casting it upon the ground and the trees. There it quickly took hold and began to swell into a hellish blaze. Some birds, disturbed by the rushing air and noise, took to the skies. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled them into the heart of the inferno.
Death.
He could taste it this time.
He fixed his gaze on the spires of a distant city, barely visible above the burning trees. He began to walk.
Once he had feared death. Now it was the only thing he wanted. He could no longer have his own.
Everyone else's would have to suffice.
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[ WP ] A lonely teenage boy asks a genie to let him talk to his future wife . The person who appears is not who he expects .
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'So let me get this straight,' said Pen.'You're... a genie?'
'Genie, genius, genial, what else is new?'' the genie replied, taking off his stylish sunglasses and looking down at Pen in a superior fashion.'You gon na make that wish then? I run a tight schedule.'
The genie glanced at his golden, complicated-looking watch. For one, the watch had six pointers rather than two, and one of them disappeared and reappeared in another colour sporadically.
'S-sorry,' Pen muttered, but he could n't help adding:'What other things do you do then?'
The genie looked at Pen with eyes that oozed impatience and superiority, but he replied:'I run stories. Make'em work out with a happy ending. I make the bad guy get what's coming, I grant the hero his magical sword, I ensure the prince marries the princess. Got it?'
'Oh,' said Pen, somewhat overwhelmed.'Can you make *me* marry a princess?'
'Would n't work, pal, you're not a prince. She'd nag you all day for clothes and jewelry you could n't give her. Take my friendly advice, marry a normal girl instead.' The genie paused, glancing at his watch.'I could get you one if you really want, though.'
'N-no, that's alright. How about... can I talk with the girl I'll end up marrying, as things are now?'
The genie raised his stylized blue-dyed eyebrows.'You know, that's a new one. Alright, you've got it, master-kiddo.'
An lo behold, out of nowhere popped a smiling head, an uncomfortable amount of inches from Pen's face.
'H-hi,' Pen squeaked, taking a startled step back. To his great surprise, the face that had appeared in front of him was that of a stunning woman, with black lips, reddish skin and the same kind of stylized blue eyebrows as the genie. In fact, she almost looked like...
'Well hello there, cutie.''
'Amyria?' exclaimed the genie, dropping his sunglasses.
'Oh, hi Onygos,' said the head, turning to the genie.'Why did you bring me here?'
The genie's already reddish face became a bright red.'No reason at all! Must've been some kind of magic mis-fluctuation...'
'Not that I mind,' she said, looking back at Pen and ignoring the genie's continued mutterings about ethereal flux leaks,'when you have such interesting company.' She winked, and Pen flushed.'By the way, Onygos, it looks like your narrativial watch is a bit... off, today.'
'I know.' The genie gave Pen a suspicious glance, but then muttered:'It's probably broken too, just my luck.'
'Better flip the retrieval pointer to send it back to the genie realm for fixing, once you're done dealing with this cutie here.'
The head named Amyria gave Pen another bright smile, her black lips showing a provocative curve at the corners that made Pen's blood tingle.
The genie's face got even redder.'Enough, woman, I have business to attend here, begone,' he said, hurriedly clapping his hands and making the head dissolve into smoke. He wiped his forehead.
'What was that all about?' Pen demanded.'I'm going to marry... a genie?'
'Of course not!' the genie snapped.'The spell must've misfired. There's... no way... I wo n't have it! *I* decide how the story goes, and absolutely no mortal is marrying my little sist... uh.'
The genie desperately looked for a means of distraction and glanced at his watch again, which had for some reason started spinning faster, matching the genie's frustration. The previously colour-shifting pointer was now attached vertically.
'Look, since that last wish *obviously* misfired, I'll grant you a bonus wish, okay? But because it's a *bonus*,' the genie said, thinking fast,'It has to pertain to this realm of mortals, and this realm alone. No actual super-natural stuff.'
Pen frowned.
'Ha,' the genie said, suddenly very pleased with himself again.'How about wealth and power, eh? That's always a popular one.'
'No thanks,' said Pen, remembering the female genie's alluring, beautiful smile, and suddenly finding himself grinning as well.'In that case, I'll wish... to be the best thief in the world.'
The genie stared at him with a blend of incredulity and relief, then slapped his own mouth shut and clapped his hands.
'Fine, fine, done. Now if you'll excuse me, I have *urgent* story business to attend.'
And in a puff of smoke, the genie was gone as well. Pen waited for a moment, then smiled, taking out the strange watch that he'd stolen from the genie's wrist at the very last second. Yes, those thieving skills would come in handy.
'Now,' he whispered.'Let's see how you like being part of a story of your own, *Onygos*.'
And with that, Pen flipped the coloured retrieval pointer, and entered the genie realm. There was a certain person's sister he intended to find.
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[ WP ] Two immortals meet and fall in love . Neither of them are aware of the other 's immortality and the years are flying by ...
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Caroline had really never understood time.
It was something other people felt, wasted in their youth and clung to in their old age. Caroline had what some called, `` the gift''. She looked much younger than she was. Men started at her her a hair too long, women craned their necks. Men imagined being with her her while the women yearned to be her. She was beautiful, stopping people in their tracks. Caroline stopped paying it mind decades ago. It did n't matter, anyway.
Since she had made her wish, she had frozen in time forever. She watched her parents age and die, and then her siblings, and then their children. After that she had stopped keeping track of the years. She had seen horror, heartbreak, and pain around her. She did n't want to take it in, grow close to someone just to watch them die. Not again.
Caroline had been 23, a late time for her parents to assist her in a marriage. She had prepared well, gone to all the right preparatory academies, attended schools to teach her to become a proper lady, just as intended. She was the perfect piece to someone else's almost-whole. Quickly enough, she fell for her father's law partner -- a tall, handsome man in his early 30s. Caleb. Women fell over themselves for him and Caroline was no different. She yearned for him, feeling heat in areas of herself she never dared explored. She dreamt of him every night and what a great wife she would be for him, he would make her better and she would make him better.
One night after visiting with her father, he lingered in the hallway as she led him to the door to say goodnight. She bowed her head low and bid him goodnight, but he gently placed his hand on her face. He lifted her head slowly and kissed her with his soft lips. It was scandalous, in her father's own house! But Caroline was beside herself with excitement, joy, even lust. Caleb smiled and asked if Caroline would be at his father's party late the next week. All she could remember was smiles -- later she would remember death.
Caleb was hit by a horse and buggy on his walk home that evening. They found his body in the morning. Caroline, despite barely knowing this man, found herself crying in her room night after night. Caroline prayed every night to bring him back, to pray that he would come back and love her as she had always dreamed. She gave away everything -- time, youth, beauty. Anything to bring him back.
It was quite a shock when Caleb awoke from the morgue that week -- everyone was talking about it. `` He is ill and sick!'' they said. But Caroline knew that she had brought him back, she had made it happen. But Caleb never came calling for her again, instead he began drinking all the time and fornicating with any woman who would have him. Caroline only saw him once after that and he had attempted to pull her into an alley for only god knows what, but she was able to kick him in the leg to get away due to his intoxicated state. Oh, but if her father knew!
She had stopped aging, however. She never aged another day since Caleb returned. Caroline turned it over in her mind over and over again and never could understand. Was it witchcraft? Was it sorcery? Was it prayer?
Over 150 years later, Caroline still could n't grasp exactly what had happened. She had seen the rise and fall of Prohibition, the success of Women's Suffrage, the Civil Rights movement, but it all played like a movie in her mind. Caroline never connected to people, never stayed long enough in one place in fear people would discover her secret.
Until Ben.
Ben found her sitting on the floor of a bookstore, surrounded by fresh books. Despite advances in technology, Caroline could n't pull herself away from the classics. Ben had taken her by surprise, in fact. She had just been sitting, reading, enjoying the ambiance of life inside the bookstore when someone grabbed her hand right up from the book --
`` I remember you!'' A strange man screamed in her face.
Caroline blinked and tried to pull her hand back, ``..what?'' She said. The man straightened up, and shook his head slightly to himself before moving some books aside and sitting beside her.
`` I'm sorry, I do n't always think before I shout at strangers in public. It's something I'm working on. I just... I wanted to tell you that... you, you look like someone I've seen before.'' Ben continued.
A moment passed and all Caroline could do was blink. `` Someone you've... seen before. I mean, that could be anybody.'' She gave a half-smile to signal the discontent to continue the conversation, somethings he remembered from her formative years.
`` No,'' he shook his head adamantly. `` It was you. I never forget a face.''
Caroline closed her book and cleared her throat. `` Okay, fine. Please elaborate. Where have we met before?''
Ben gave a half-smile, his brown eyes almost shining in the light. `` No, we've never formally met, you see. I just... I remember you. I saw you when the ball dropped. You were alone. Everyone else was smiling and dancing and, happy. You were just... looking around at everyone else, watching everyone else's happiness and joy. It was an amazing moment, the FIRST ball drop. And all I could do was look at you.''
Caroline held her breath, clutched the book in her hand due to nerves. `` The first ball drop? Not possible. That would have been 19...''
`` 1907. I would have been 100 that year.'' Ben stated casually. They sat in silence, Caroline unsure what to say. `` I think we're meant to be together.'' Ben said with a side smile.
Caroline raised her eyebrows, `` No, I do n't think so.''
Ben shrugged, `` Why not? We travelled through time to be here for this moment. We both have lived this long to ensure that we will run into each other. That's beautiful, right? That's important?'' he asked, as if he knew the answer.
Caroline felt as young as she had when she first kissed Caleb so long ago, invigorated by someone who could understand her. Almost entirely beyond her own control, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Ben's warm, welcoming kiss only to feel everything she wished that she had with Caleb.
And suddenly, as if always waiting to for her, time began to move forward for her once more.
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[ WP ] You discover that there is a world religion based completely around worshiping the tree in your front yard .
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Jake walked outside, carrying a gun. The gun was a water gun, and the whole thing seemed rather stupid, but Jake could n't afford to care about what was stupid and what was not at the moment.
“ Hey, get the hell off my property! ”, he shouted, pointing the gun at a small crowd that had now formed on his front lawn. The people did n't move. What they did, on the other hand, seemed to frustrate him almost to the point of breaking down into quiet sobs. They were worshipping a tree.
The tree was a rather ordinary looking ash tree. It was about forty feet tall, with ordinary looking branches and ordinary looking bark. In fact, it was the most ordinary looking tree in the neighbourhood, and Jake wondered for a second if that was the reason people were now kneeling and trying to kiss the ground around it. He dismissed the idea as nonsensical and, throwing away what was left of his sanity, started shooting.
The people came every week. It all started in the beginning of summer, when Jake first discovered an odd-looking sort of person standing in front of his house, examining his front yard with an intense fascination of a five-year-old in a candy store. Jake looked at the person for a bit, and then decided to just forget about it after he took off. After all, the fellow just seemed interested in the carefully trimmed lawn that Jake himself regarded as being very nice to the point of being nicer than all the other lawns in the area. Part of the appeal of the lawn, of course, lay in fact that there was a very clearly pronounced absence of any kind of crowd on it, around it, or in its immediate proximity.
Jake could almost feel the intoxicating smell of gunpowder. People were now running for cover, trying to get away from the messenger of death that was Jake and his water-spraying weapon. After a few moments it was all over.
Jake felt surprised and a bit cheated. After all, he did not expect the idea of the water gun to work in the first place. He looked at the people that were now sprinting towards a street corner that promised safety, and shook his head in disbelief. Perhaps he had finally found a way to make them stop doing whatever the hell they were doing. If that was true, he now had some time to finally sit down without needing to break up the little crowd that seemed to appear every time it possibly could. He sighed. There was finally some time to think.
The crowd appeared first thing next morning, but by that time Jake was ready. The water hose seemed to have the same effect as the gun if only a bit on a bigger scale, and so when the people started running Jake could still pick them off some distance away. He found enormous pleasure in doing so, and considered joining the military for a sniper position for most of the afternoon. The next morning he had two water hoses ready. The morning after that the crowd decided to keep a safe distance.
Jake found that disheartening. After all, there was no fun in him sitting there on the porch with the people standing just outside his reach, waiting for him to go inside just so they could come and hug the tree. Jake thought about it for some time, and then decided to order a large pizza and a library book on ash trees.
It was a slow read, part of the reason being that the book was not very layman-oriented, and another being that Jake really preferred television over any other medium. Overall, however, Jake was satisfied with the results and had ordered another large pizza and a Coke. Having finished that, he started reading yet another book, and then decided to descend further into madness by decorating his front lawn with warning tape and signs displaying the words “ Yggdrasil, three roots for the price of two ”.
The next morning he was letting the people in to see the ash tree. The price was reasonable, and for those who did not wish to pay there was always the simple solution of spraying them with water from the hose. After all, Jake thought to himself, most of these crazy vikings did n't know how to swim.
He felt that he had descended into madness and had now made it his home. He liked it though. Madness seemed to include money and people that were afraid of water.
He liked it.
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[ WP ] Write about something incredibly mundane , but write it as though you were writing a horror story .
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It always takes time to get them to his house, but once they enter, there is no chance of leaving. They are his. Salivating with excitement, he lays them down on the basement floor, and lowers his knife. He loves how the blade faces just the slightest bit of tension when it touches the surfaces and then pops through. From that point, the motion is effortless, but he likes to take it slowly, listening to the knife gracefully make its way from top to bottom. Once there is a large enough opening down the middle, he has two choices. While he can continue to proceed with dexterity, he prefers to give into his primitive instinct and just stick a hand inside the opening and pull back on each side until there is a pop and it splits open. Next, he reaches his hands inside and pulls out sack after sack of extraneous contents until he finds the one that he wants. When he finally comes upon it, he retreats to another room to have his way with it. Sometimes he adds it to his collection, sometimes he eats it, sometimes he wears it, and sometimes he even gives it to his mother. Once he ’ s finished, he allows his cat to make a home inside the empty shell he left behind until his wife gets home and tells him to clean up the mess.
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[ WP ] You own a magical camera that is similar to a thermal camera , but instead of heat it shows you value . A ring glows as bright as the sun while a piece of plastic wrapping is almost invisible . You have been careful never to look at a person with it for your whole life .
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*Click! *
I dropped the camera to my chest before the image could flash across the screen. `` Nice!'' I said. `` I'll give this to Rick. He'll probably tag you guys.''
`` I wan na see it!'' Lynn said, and she held her hand out expectantly.
*What the fuck are you doing?! * I shouted at her mentally. She knew about the camera's magic. Still she smiled at me and held out her other hand.
My grip tightened around the camera. Aidan and Gary looked expectant as well, though they knew not of the camera's power. I had no choice. I unclipped the hook from the strap and passed it over to Lynn. She practically snatched it from me and tapped on the gallery icon. I saw her smile fade. But she did n't look angry or scared. She blinked a few times and passed over the camera to Aidan when he reached for it. His expression was of concern, as was Gary's.
`` Huh, that's odd,'' Aidan said. `` You did n't have the flash on.''
I shook my head. `` I, er…well, the light in here is pretty good, so…''
`` So what the hell happened?'' Gary asked, pointing to the screen.
I moved closer so I could see. When I looked down I understood why Lynn suddenly looked so somber. In the image of the three people you could barely see her or Gary, but for different reasons. Lynn's entire silhouette was pure light. She glowed like the sun. Next to her, Aidan was also glowing rather brightly, although you could still see his features rather well. Lynn, however, looked like someone had erased her from the photo and put in a very light pencil line sketch.
Then there was Gary. I used to say he was about as bright as a black hole and twice as dense. Those words came to haunt me now. It was as if someone had photoshopped him and cranked the contrast level well above nine thousand. I could barely discern any distinguishing features. It was almost like I was looking at a photograph of a daemon.
Something clicked in my head just then. The camera's magic worked for whoever was using it, not just the original owner. Its power flowed through the user and measured the values of things, and people, depending on the user's objective. In my case the camera knew Rick and I wanted to help people, so it found the financial value of the things I photographed at the thrift shop. The money we earned from online sales had helped so many over the past year.
Now the camera had measured how valuable these people were in my life, how they contributed to my life, my joy, my well-being.
Gary had used me and cast me aside. He had done this multiple times. He has actually thrown a wobbler when I've put my own needs above his. It seemed like every time I saw him I was taken on a magical guilt trip to Shameville, very much like every time I saw my mother. Hell, he even lost his shit when I put my own family before him!
And Lynn, she was part of that family. She had absorbed me into her family when she hardly knew me. Even though I had no romantic, sexual, or physical ties to any of them they embraced me. They were supportive and loving when I went through some really rough times. Even now that things were immensely better I still felt she and they were priceless.
Aidan and I had a friendship that had slowly grown over the last few months. So far I liked most everything I learned about him. He was intelligent, respectful, clever, fun, and a nerd. He contributed so much to my life. Aidan was valuable to me.
But Gary held no value for me. In fact, his presence in my life was actually removing value from it. He was a hindrance to my mental and emotional well-being, a black hole sucking joy from my life. Why was I friends with him?
I came back to the moment when I felt Lynn's hand on my arm. I turned to say something to her. I did n't need to. She had already snaked her arms around my neck and pressed her face into my shoulder. When I returned the embrace I heard her sniffle. She was n't just touched by the revelation of her value to me. She was also concerned about the shadowy man in the photo.
`` It's okay,'' I told her softly. `` I'm about to do an exorcism.''
`` Promise?'' she whispered.
I held her tighter as I replied `` Promise.''
`` Can we keep Aidan?''
*Oh, how I was hoping you'd say that. * `` Double promise.''
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[ WP ] You and your brother both have superpowers ; however , his pale in comparison to yours . He 's always wanted to be a superhero , so you take the guise of a villain to let him live his dream .
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I do n't enjoy the stand-offs we have every week. Leveling cities and hearing the screams of women and children brings me no pleasure. A visage of psychotic excitement is what the world has come to know yes, but it's all just the result of countless months spent rehearsing... all this... for you brother. So as I grab an unsuspecting civilian know that it is n't because I'm crazy, know it's because I want what's best for you. Oh, I've forgotten one crucial mistake? Yes, I have brother. Save the day as you always have. Toss me into the back of a cruiser battered and bruised as I let you know that I would have gotten away with it if it was n't for you, but know that in the confides of this cell I'll supposedly never escape I'm proud of you.
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[ IP ] An English Country Lane
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After she died, the road itself became a place of nostalgia.
I did n't have a picture of her alive, but took one at the funeral. She looked very peaceful, like she was sleeping on the pyre. Everything was peaceful with her. I get lost in memory, with her image in her mind, remembering everything: the smells of her small, simple cottage, colors, sounds of birds singing outside. I watched many seasons pass at her minuscule kitchen window, with the sun filtering through a huge cherry tree in the back yard. In her home, everything was calmer and friendlier, including summer storms we liked to watch from the back porch, drinking hot tea, snuggled under handmade wool blankets in rocking chairs. We spoke little to each other then; rain made us get lost in our own inner worlds. Now, summer storms take back down that road, a country road, with rows of huge, old birch trees on each side, crossing a plain, getting lost in the woods. Her house was near the woods. She liked it like that. Far from the village no one bothered her in her solitary existence.
She always had something baking in the oven, be it a pumpkin pie near Samhain, chocolate bread near Imbolc, or just biscuits we ate warm with jam and a glass of milk.
She was a witch, she told me. Her name was Samantha. No one visited her, at least not while I was there. She told me her husband died and her children moved in far away places a long time ago. She was n't sad. She missed her husband, she told me. But she was n't sad. One day, the world wo n't want her anymore and she'll live to meet him. They'll live in a little home just like this, surrounded by woods just like those outside, full of fairies and unicorns.
She used to tell me a lot of stories about fabulous places, lives of gods and goddesses, and all kinds of invisible, ignored creatures living alongside us. `` Watch out for those kelpies!'' she used to yell after me when I left the house to go swimming in the nearby river.
Time took a different, viscous texture between the green and yellow walls of her home. I spent all my summer days there while growing up and always felt like the days lasted years each, or seconds, no longer than blinks - one summer day for each blink I took.
By the time I was 13, I already towered over her small figure. I saw her getting older and older, smaller and smaller, like she was folding in herself, like animals do when they are cold. Her voice lost it's strength a little bit more with each passing year. She used to joke, telling me she could hear her joints cracking when she moved, like an old, unoiled mechanism. I saw all those, and in hindsight it all makes sense, but truth is, I did n't understood what it all meant until it happened. I guess on some level I always expected her to live forever.
I used to go down that road to visit her. I keep a picture of it next to hers in my wallet. After her passing, I only ever went down it again in my memories, where she always waits at the end with a smile and a cup of tea.
-- -- --
-036
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[ WP ] I 'm having a bad day , write a story about a puppy overcoming his fear of vacuum cleaners : )
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My nose twitches, sniffing for danger from my hiding spot behind the couch. I perk up my ears as I hear the clack clack of the monster prowling through my home. The monster has taken my beloved Sarah hostage, and forced her to be it's slave, pushing it around and playing with it's long, sinuous tail. Whimpering nervously, I try to contain my fear. I love Sarah, and I want to protect her, but that monster is ferocious! It moves around unlike anything I've seen, menacingly gliding like a ghost. It's body is hard and shiny like a bug, with a transparent stomach swirling with it's victims bones. It must have some kind of power source that allows it to control her, and it seems strongest when it's howling and screaming. Sarah does n't show any outward realization of the danger she's in, perhaps the creature has hypnotized her to do it's bidding?
The monster begins screaming and I wince, the volume hurts my head. Cautiously, I peek around the corner of the couch, worry making me pant. It's so purposeful in it's movements, leaving no square foot of the room untouched, somehow it evens communicates to Sarah and has her move things out of the way so it can move around more. How does it tell her it's desires, is it telepathic?
When I left mom, she told me my new home would be a wonderful place, and in many ways it has been. I get fed yummy pebbles twice a day, I have my own grass to play in with my ball, Sarah even gave me a soft bed to sleep in every night. She did n't tell me I'd have to defend my home from monsters that apparently come out to terrorize me regularly. This is n't the first time I've cowered from the beast, and I'm starting to think I need to do something about it since it keeps coming back. I love Sarah and I ca n't keep letting her be tortured! I've made my mind up, time to stop acting like a feline and show what makes canines the best!
Using all my best abilities, I launch my assault. Tapping into my hyper speed, I bolt out from behind the couch and bob and weave my way around the insidious beast, taunting it with my most ferocious bark. My barks are ineffective, the monster rolls on with it's dutiful march unaffected. I slam on the brakes at where I think the front is, and and put on my fiercest look. Head lowered, hackles raised, and my deepest growl rumbling through my clenched teeth. The screaming stops, and Sarah seems to be coming out of her trance, she's trying to scold me like a naughty dog. She must still be in a haze, I'm in the middle of saving her. As she comes around, I see my chance to end this once and for all. I lunge for Sarah and she freezes in shock as I duck between her legs. As I unfurl I take my chance to attack the weakened monster, sitting silently after losing it's grip on it's victim. I chomp down on it's tail as hard as I can, fighting the urge to spit out it's rank flesh. Still maintaining my hold on it's tail, I throw my body down the hall to knock it off balance. The beast topples with an angry crash, helpless to my barrage. I give the tail a good head shake before spitting it out, then pin it's body to the ground to finish it off. Sarah is screaming my praises as I prepare to descend with my death blow, her encouragement fuels my fury. I rip out what I think is the beasts throat, and carry it to Sarah to show her she's safe, once and for all.
As I approach her, she seems angry, but softens as I sit and wait patiently for her to take the prize from me. I let her take the monsters flesh from my mouth, and she pats me on the head and sighs.
`` Good boy Freckles'' she says as she laughs.
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[ WP ] There are so many superheroes that they 're all put into a queue for who gets to solve the next catastrophe . It 's your turn .
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The line was long. I'd been waiting for literally MONTHS. I pitched a tent and everything.
When I had trouble sleeping I'd say my catchphrase,'' You're crimes been wiped.'' I was Dr. Delete. So like wiping a hard drive of data, I would wipe the streets of crime.
`` That's a dumb catch phrase man. People are gon na think your Toilet Paper dude or something.'' said some cretin dressed in a dragon costume behind me.
I ignored him, the whole fucking time.
Finally it was my turn to save the world. A bouncer opened the gate to let me into hero compound.
I began to walk towards the black tunnel behind the gate when the dragon man shouted something, `` LOOK, LOOK, UP IN THE SKY.''
Something was falling.
As it got closer I began to make out the figure of a human. Other heroes were ooing and awwing. It was a man singing opera at the top of his lungs. He got closer and closer then deployed a parachute.
He slowly floated down towards the ground. We were all caught up in this crazy spectacle. He landed directly in front of me.
`` That was amazing sir,'' I said and put out my hand for a shake,'' Dr. Deletes the name, I wipe crime.''
The man looked at me puzzled. He was wearing an all yellow costume. It glistened in the sun, almost blinding me.
`` I sir am the Budder, and you just lost you spot.''
Gat dang it. There was nothing I could do, he was the Budder. So I spent another 3 months playing connect 4 with the Dragon suited fella. You know he was actually that bad. We had some deep conversations about life, the nature of existence, our lives. After I did save the world ( overrated ) we married. The Budder was my best man at the wedding.
ENDS.
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[ WP ] Everyone has powers locked within them . Each power is different , and the longer it takes for a power to manifest , the greater it is . A 100 year old man is being hunted by the government for still being powerless .
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I'm aware this is terrible, but practice makes perfect, so I'd appreciate all criticism!
-- -
Sweat trickled down Martin ’ s neck. His damp clothes stuck to his frail body, wedging itself into every wrinkle it could. He was crouching behind a barrel; an easy hiding place. His old, gnarled body was small to begin with – as he grew older and his muscles deteriorated, he became smaller. This was to his advantage, as he had been hunted since he was 59 years old.
The deafening crack of wood splintering resounded through the room. The groan of complaining hinges echoed the explosion of noise, and then there was silence.
Martin moved from behind the barrel towards the large overturned mahogany table at his 4 O ’ clock.
“ Movement! Target spotted moving north north-west, from barrel to table. ”
“ All Units be on watch; He hasn ’ t had a check-up for 40 years! ”
The young voices sprang across the room. Martin clenched what teeth he had left: he ’ d been spotted. Not good. He pulled a watch out of his pocket and clicked the small golden cover open. Inside was a picture of his wife and his only son. Both slaughtered by those merely metres across the room.
“ Backup say door is 60 % broken. All Units, prepare. ” The commanding voice had a slight static ring to it. They must have been wearing protective gear. Martin kissed the picture of his family, and put the watch away. The heavy wooden door shook again, this time a large crack appearing right down the middle. He stood up and turned to face the murderers.
“ Here I am ”, he taunted, spreading his arms wide, “ Do it. Kill me. ”
A cacophony of worried shouts rang out, clashing with eachother. Martin in his old age could only discern fragments.
“ Target is on the m- “
“ He ’ s going to- “
“ Be alert! ”
“ How long… backup? ”
He sighed and closed his eyes. He stood and waited.
And waited.
... and waited.
Silence.
The government agents ’ yells had died out, but were now replaced with screams and shrieks.
Martin opened his eyes. Looks like it had finally begun. It ’ d awakened.
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[ WP ] A little girl walks up to a man at a desk . She is followed by something horrifying . She points to it and says `` It 's lost , and we need to get it back home . ''
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`` Action Dan here, I'd like a pack of new ports please.''
The clerk was moving to grab my smokes when i heard a little girl behind me.
`` Excuse me sir but-''
`` Action Dan'' I corrected her.
`` Action Dan, my friend needs to go home. I looked around and did n't see anyone.
`` What does he look like?''
`` Well, he's big, and big like, big.'' She held her arms out to her side.'' With yellow, no not yellow, GOLD, teeth. He's wearing a blue shirt that's all silky and has a lion on it.''
`` Ok?'' I smiled this was cute. `` Where is he?''
`` He's tall and he's, I do n't know the word, hes outside.''
`` What word sweetie?''
`` He's the color of a candy and really nice and-''
I laughed `` like a peppermint? Red and white?''
`` No,'' she screwed up her face, `` like a, like a chocolate bar! And-''
My smiled faded and I turned to the clerk, `` call the cops, there's a black fella outside.''
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[ WP ] Evidence of ancient ruins have been found on a distant planet . You have been tasked to investigate the ruins . The first thing you find is a large chamber with a stone slab in the center . Engraved in the slab are the words `` Welcome back '' . At the bottom of it is your signature .
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Admiral Henson's orders were simple; Investigate the ruins. No order to return, no set provisions... he gave me free reign, as long as I showed up there and gave it a look. Not that I had a choice, but as a space man, freedom was hard to come by. So Quartermaster Henson filled my bag, prepped my shuttle and told me, `` Pilot Henson, you get back alive.'' I nodded. The last thing I wanted was Doc Henson to sew me back together again.
Two weeks later, the launch pads landed on solid rock. The first thing I saw was a large chamber with a stone slab in the center. It was strangely convenient, but meant to be. Something caught my eye. Engraved in the slab. It could n't be.
`` Welcome back.''
In my signature. How could this be? Did Admiral Henson set me up? What would Doctor Henson make of this? Why did n't Quartermaster Henson pack me a mental stabilizer, I could n't tell if I was hallucinating or not. But I knew that'J' anywhere. The walls felt drawn closer around me. Processing all this at once was too much. How could I -- -
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
`` Jim, dinner's ready!'' Mom was calling from upstairs.
Finally, I was having a hard time explaining that one. The story would have to sit a while. Sorry Admiral Henson, Quartermaster Henson, Pilot Henson, Chef Henson, Prisoner-For-Some-Reason Henson and... some, random alien I made up. Weird looking thing. Just glued some fun scraggly things together for that one.
Fun. scraggly. A fraggle!
`` You coming down Jim?''
`` Sorry mom,'' I called down. `` Was in the middle of a story!''
`` Can it wait?''
I waited a few seconds to reply, just for fun. `` Yes!'' I finally replied. After setting the puppets on the floor carefully, I shut the door and let the story sit for a while. That signature will have to make sense somehow later, but for now, it was time for dinner.
The puppets could wait for me.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
*More at r/galokot, and thanks for reading! *
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[ WP ] The stranger sitting next to you suddenly breaks the silence and stands up . “ I ’ m not gon na let this happen . ”
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The sea was calm that morning. We were 2 days into the cruize and it still felt like I had n't seen every single person inside this massive ship. I had just woken up and did all the normal'just woke up' stuff, which means that there was moaning, stretching and half open eyes. My cabin was quite nice, it was tier 2, it had an ok bed, a coffee machine, came with free wifi and had room service, which meant I could spent all morning in here with a decent coffee in hand and a croissant in the other gazing out the window disoriented as the caffeine wo n't kick in until I was awake without it.
A quick shower later and a bit of walking I sat in one of the benches looking out towards the sea. Equipped with my iphone, sunglasses, a hat and about a ton of suncream, I decided that nobody would sit next to me. However, I was wrong.
This man, who I've never seen before on this boat sat next to me. He also had a ton of suncream on, which looked kinda funny as below the thick layer of suncream you could see a hint of red, very red skin. He sat next to me and did not say anything, I was chuckling a little as I browsed reddit, /r/talesfromtechsupport /r/Jokes and such subreddits, you know, repost nation and people with an IQ of 0 as they cant type in a password.
10 minutes later I was half-asleep, reddit open on my phone which was on my hand which was on my lap but the soothing trembling of the boat as its engined purred pushing us through the water didi n't help to put me into sleep, it was like a tremor. The sea had also started to get a bit rougher, we were in the middle of the nowhere so it was expected, to add to that, the white puffy clouds had also become flat and grey, the sea was getting a bit worse now and the man next to me looked rather distressed.
All that was really heard was the sea and the 18 story engines of the ship. Suddenly the man decided to get up, moved by the railings and murmured''I'm not gon na let this happen'', moved towards me, grabbed my phone and walked away. I was frozen in disbelief for about 5 seconds, my mind had all these crazy questions:
'What just happened?'
'Who is he?'
'Where is he going?'
'What is he trying to stop?'
After I came back into reality and my brain functioned normally again I got up and ran behind the man. He then proceeded to throw my phone into the water and I tried to confront him'Oi, what the f.' then a very muffled bang cut my sentence in half and the water splashed as if a diver had just belly flopped like the Russian dude in the olympics I saw once.
'Someone walked into your cabin and installed a bomb into your iphone, I was just walking by when I saw the door to your room open and in there I saw a man who was not you messing around with your iphone' said the man in a rather heavy tone, as if I had no right to know what happened.
I was n't sure what to say so I said'Ok, cheers' and went back into my cabin, thinking what am I going to do without a phone for 3 more days, no sports as I am terrible at it. I cant sing so no karaoke, my money is limited so no casino either. I sighed in disbelief at my lack of options and daydreamed of having a phone for the rest of the cruize.
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If you somehow liked this, view some of my other stuff in /r/cookiez_fort
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[ WP ] Write a typical possession/haunted house story from the perspective of the demon/ghost .
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I remember it like it was yesterday.
March 2nd: My wife and myself just moved into an old Victorian. We just moved from the city to the country to get away from all the noise and lights. We also moved because my wife was 8 months pregnant and we wanted to raise our child away from all the corruption that a big city has to offer. It's a girl. Her name was Rose.
We had just settled in and were watching a movie with a fire burning. Around 11:30 at night, my wife heard a noise at the front door. I got up, moved to the door and opened it to see if I could hear anything. As I opened it a man shoved me outside and locked the door. I could hear my wife screaming. As I tried to kick the door open. I ran around to the back door to see if it was unlocked but again, I was trapped outside. From the kitchen window I could see two men sexually assaulting my pregnant wife.
I broke a window on the side of the house and climbed through to save my dear wife and my unborn Rose. The next moments are a blur but the last thing I remember of that life is laying on the floor. Cold; all while a wet, sticky liquid pooled around me. I could see my wife crying as the men continued to abuse her. Then, all of a sudden a bright light, and then nothing.
March 20th: I remember waking up to find that I was no longer a member of the living. I was still in my new house, but I knew I was no longer alive. The house is void of any movement. I walk through my house all the time. Normally I spend my time swinging on the hanging bench on the front porch... or staring outside the kitchen window; the one I broke trying to get into the house while my wife and baby were being attacked.
I now always leave the back door unlocked so I'll never be locked out. Sometimes I walk upstairs but I do n't like being up there. It's where my daughters room was. I still see her crib and a rocking chair in there. The few times I make it in there I think of what it would be like to have rocked my daughter to sleep.
April 7th: About two weeks after I remember coming too, I stumbled onto a surprise. As I was passing through the house, I walked through the family room where I was killed. The couch my wife was on, no longer where it was originally due to the police, I saw a body. As I came closer to it, I recognized it. Laying where my poor wife was attacked, I could see my wife. She looks so peaceful. I am initially saddened as I know for sure that she did n't survive her attackers. I only hope that they killed her quickly and she did n't suffer. I also realize that Rose is still inside my wife. I assume my daughter did n't survive either.
April 10th: I spend the majority of my days seated on the floor watching over my wife. I failed to protect her when we were living, so I refuse to let anything happen to her while I'm dead. I can only hope that one day she'll sit up, and we can go on spending eternity together. This place is awfully lonely without her.
September 18th: Today a couple people came into my home. I jumped up and locked the doors. It's daylight, but it's MY HOUSE. I do n't want anyone in here. I try to hold the door shut but I just do n't have the strength to stop it from opening.
It looks like a couple is moving in as there are moving men and new furniture is replacing my old furniture. I'm frightened as I ca n't stop them and this house, the way it is... it's just the only thing I know anymore. I try to stop them, I try to make my presence known, but they do n't see me... they do n't hear me.
September 19th: The new family, despite my initial fear seems nice. They remind me of what my life almost was. They ’ re a young, beautiful couple, with a very young daughter. All of a sudden, an uneasy feeling comes over me… they ’ re going to use Rose ’ s room for their young daughter. I don ’ t want anyone moving Rose ’ s stuff around.
As I nervously paced over trying to cope with the thought of my beautiful young daughters room being used by some other child, I see the husband and another man moving a couch into the first floor. My uneasiness increases as I realize that they ’ re placing the couch on top of my wife ’ s still body! No! Don ’ t do this to me! Seeing her is the only thing that gives me any comfort.
They set the couch down and all I can see is her face sticking out from the couch. I can no longer see her pregnant belly. I no longer see Rose…
September 24th: I am unhappy with the new residents. They covered my wife… my child with a couch. They took down my swinging bench on the front porch. They keep locking my back door so I can ’ t get back in if I ’ m outside. The stress of all of this is beginning to weigh on me. The only thing that comforts me is sitting in the rocking chair that I bought while the young daughter sleeps in her crib. I sit and rock while she sleeps and I imagine it ’ s Rose.
September 26th: It ’ s unusually warm out for this time of year. I spend half my time lying next to my beautiful wife, just hoping… dare I say, “ praying ” that I could move this couch, or that my wife ’ s body; her spirit would wake up. At this point I fear she ’ ll be resting here for all of eternity. The other half of my time I spend watching over the daughter.
It ’ s late and I ’ m in the nursery watching this beautiful young child sleep until I realize that it ’ s starting to get cold out and the window in the room is open. It ’ s getting far too cold for the baby to be sleeping with a window open. She ’ s starting to cry, so I run from her room to the couple bedroom; my old bedroom. I try franticly to wake up the sleeping couple, but nothing I do makes an impact. I have never experienced anything as frustrating in all of my existence. Living or dead. I ’ m able to move some clothes in their closet but mostly I can just knock them off the hangers. I knock some papers off a desk but still can ’ t make enough commotion to wake them. I run back to the nursery… I don ’ t know what to do. In a fit of anger and frustration I attempt to slam the window down and by some unknown chance, I can *feel* the window and I am able to slam it down. At that moment the child ’ s parents come running and grab their little girl.
I had no idea why I was able to move the window but I feel much better knowing the little baby will be warm and cozy tonight.
September 29th: I ’ ve found the ability to manipulate small things. I ’ ve tried to move the couch off of my wife so I can see my own little girl in her pregnant belly but I can ’ t even get it to move the slightest. The other night there were some kids near the house late at night. I feared the worse so I found a knife in the kitchen and was able to put it on the wife ’ s nightstand in case they broke in, she could protect herself while I shut locked the baby ’ s door from the inside to keep her safe. The kids just ended up wandering around as kids tend to do.
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[ CW ] Who , what , when , where , why and how . We 're taught that every story needs all of these details . Tell a story with only two of them .
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( *Where and Why... I feel like I cheated a bit, though! You decide* )
Imagine these mountains, snow-capped and grave. These ridges, these crests, these crags and these cliffs, the clouds engulf them, envelop them, and enshrine them, like a veil on some cosmic altar. These mountains, they fill your entire field of vision, they fill up the horizon, they surround you, they unfold themselves upon you. There are no trees on these mountains, no hint of an evergreen that might suggest life. It ’ s just grey and white, rocks and snow, dull and brilliant, for miles on end.
This is the where, and it ’ s important. Nothing else really matters. Not even you.
Consider: these mountains don ’ t care who you are or what you are or when you are or how you found them. Are you Hannibal, tired general, knee deep in snow, miserable, one hand resting on your horse for balance and another hand gripping the hilt of your sword, not sure, even with an elephant army behind you, whether you will make it through these treacherous mountain passes, when suddenly, one of your favorite soldiers, whom you trust and depend on like no other, nudges you on the shoulder and asks, why these mountains?
Or are you Nando Parrado, one of the 27 survivors of a plane crash on the Andes in 1972, 2191 years after Hannibal, freezing and hungry, bundled up in the mismatched clothing stripped from the mangled corpses you buried in the snow after leading a makeshift Latin Mass, and impossibly, but maybe a little inevitably, now dig them up again to cut them up and eat them, asking God, as you taste frozen greasiness of the real body of Christ for the first time, no, the real body of your fellow man, why these mountains?
Why these mountains for Hannibal? So he can conquer Rome, and fight for the survival of Carthage, and avenge his father. And why these mountains for Nando Parrado? Because of the perfectly reasonable ( and absurd ) explanation that the pilots were flying blind in the thick clouds of the Andes and flew too low. But these are the personal whys. These are the whys of the specific circumstances of Hannibal, man, Nando Parrado, man. Is there a cosmic why? Why these mountains? Why *are* these mountains? What kind of question is that? Who would ask such a question? And nobody answers, except for the mountains.
*Edit for spelling
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[ WP ] A modern day event being told as a legend in the future .
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`` Behold! The soul stealer will rend it's payment upon the skies!'' The shaman warned, spreading his arms wide to the heavens. `` It will take your likeness, promise immortality, and in exchange destroy everything!'' The youth of the village listened intently to the wise man, still as stones under the cool summer night sky.
`` Our forefather's forefathers knew of this treachery. They saw it for what it was and cast out all of it's kin. The great names of our past, Bob and Jenean, where those that started the exodus from the lands of soul stealers.'' The shaman explained, his head now bent down as he recalled the legend of the great war.
`` All unnatural things are banned because of this great exodus, we do not even speak the names of the soul stealers. But it is important that you know what they are called. Today is your naming day little younglings, you are men and women of the clan. It is the right of every man and women to know their enemy, and you now have that right. I will speak the soul stealer's name once, so that it may never capture your likeness and dement your mind.'' The shaman paused for effect, gazing out across the small group of young adults. They leaned forward waiting to hear what had plagued their fears as children.
`` They called it, `` a Selfie''.'' He said.
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[ WP ] People no longer are able to say exactly what they want , they must choose from a small list of choices that are vague descriptions of what people will actually say , like a video game .
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`` Welcome! What brings you here today?'' I turned towards the front door as the bells signals my attention. A young man walks in, armour polished to a bright silver, a blue cape draped around his shoulders with gold thread swinging gently, a bow with arrows tucked behind one shoulder, and a rare sword slung against his right hip.
'Ah, a travelling knight.' I smile. A job title held with many glorious battles and promises of good deeds. Over the years more and more young folk wanted to get their hands on any adventure they could find. The village itself bore great rouges, healers, and scholars. All came and went to find their own journey outside the forest fields that surround the village. As I watch him look around my shop I peer over my shoulder and ask him questions.
* There's a sale on rice today.
* Oh my. That seems like a lot!
* Thank you!
* See you next time, come again.
The day drags on as I repeat these sayings over and over again. Many come in to shop at the general store I run but not once am I able to say anything else. I smile, stand at the counter, pace around the store, and repeat every hour or so. Many faces pop up throughout the day, knights from kingdoms arrive, bards from the main cities come to play their tunes outside, and those who seek replenishing of their supplies.
Evening rolls around as the cicada sing their own tune. I stretch a bit before pulling down the blinds and closing the store. It's around 5pm when work finishes, after this I'm free to do my own stuff. I walk around a bit, chat to the other villagers, and make my way to other night time shops. They too give me their everyday repetition of words. For some reason, talking to outsiders in the village trigger certain sayings out of my mouth. Frightening really, without any thought you start to say lines that you have never rehearsed.
The moon seems a bit brighter tonight. Maybe its almost full to becoming the new moon. From a distance I see my friend coming my way, waving his hands energetically in the air. Times like this you are able to speak without constraints.
`` Hey! Just got off work! Phew, I'm tired. I just ca n't stand smiling at drunk merchants in the bar. Drives me nuts when I ca n't tell them off because I can only use three sayings.''
`` Hey.'' He turns his head towards, rubbing his aching shoulders slightly.
`` Ever wonder why we chose to be NPCs?''
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[ WP ] It 's the year 3000 , and Galactic civilization has fallen . Kings rule vast kingdoms . Knights charge into battle on horseback . But the starships still work , those were built to last .
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Missed my creative writing days here's a shot at this one. First post!
“ It will work, it is our last chance to fight back and destroy the Harth empire once and for all, ” Astonious addressed the council in a fierce tone. “ I will not sit in my kingdom, awaiting my death! ” Astonious slammed the once immaculate seal of the Ramanian Empire, adding one more crack of imperfection on the already faded golden seal. “ Your plan is quite foolish, you think that the enemy will leave their fortress into an obvious trap! ” Council member Deforan yelled back at Astonious. “ Only you would think of such an idiotic plan, the enemy knows of the cloaking devices on our already weakened fleet. Deforan turned to face the other council members, “ I suggest we destroy the bridge of Harth to buy us more time to rebuild our fleet. ” Let the enemy knock on our door, we will be ready! ” Deforan exclaimed with his right hand firmly tucked into a fist so tight the other councilmen felt their hearts tighten. A moment of silence filled the chamber. When suddenly a thunderous applause erupted in the room, “ All Hail Deforan! ” Astonious stood in shock, the time to act was now.
“ Sire! stealing the last few working ships is the ultimate act of treason, there has to be another way! ” Thinir said as nervously awaited the response he did not want to hear, but expected to hear. “ Thinir… the time has come, ready the signal ” Astonious muttered as he walked right past Thinir to grab his axe. “ Very well sire, we will leave at nightfall ” Thinir said staring outside at the vast kingdom of Ramanian. Astonious looked at Thinir, smiled and with one quick stroke sliced the purple log of the haze tree in a perfect half. He imagined the purple smoke rising into the air, and how that would soon be his enemy ’ s fate. He silently debated with himself whether he was signaling his men, or rather signaling the enemy of their death sentence.
“ I can not believe Astonious ’ s plan ” The squadron guard laughed at his fellow guard. “ The enemy clearly knows of our cloaking technology on the falcon ships, they will see right through this and hold back! ” The other guard replied. “ Hey someone is burning a Ha -- ” the guard slowly fell as he felt the axe suddenly enter his body. The other guard was quickly assassinated as Astonious ’ s men flocked to the two falcon cruisers. “ Quickly get in! ” Astonious motioned his troops. In a matter of minutes the two falcon cruiser ’ s faded into the deep dark sky of the Haberian planet ’ s atmosphere. The falcon cruiser ’ s excelled at their nearly silent engines and impressive cloaking technology. They had won many wars, not by sheer firepower, but by the ultimate timeless weapon in any war. The element of surprise.
By mid-day the next day the Harth kingdom was in sight of the two falcon cruisers. “ Drop me there ” Astonious commanded the pilot. With one look over his shoulder he oversaw his men, ready to die at any chance to stop the Harth Empire. “ If I fall my men, you must continue and destroy the Harth capital ship at all costs! ” Astonious shouted as he opened the drop hatch. “ For Ramanian! ” Astonious quickly dropped out of the ship landing just above the hill before the sight line of the Harth fortress. He felt a very slight vibration in the ground. “ Damn those falcon ’ s are quiet ” He laughed to himself. Astonious quickly approached the Harth Fortress Wall.
Harthanian nearly fell out of his chair at the sight of a lone Astonious approaching his fortress. “ Look at him drag himself to our kingdom, I knew he would finally give in and betray his own people ” Harthanian said confidently with an evil smile across his scarred face. Harthanian knew his plan was perfect. Sending secret spies to negotiate with Astonious was a risky tactic, but paid off. He knew of the disagreements over the past few years of Astonious and the council. It was only a matter of time before the hero broke. Harthanian looked over the wall “ Finally you come to me, I was wondering when it would be. ” Astonious looked up and instantly recognized the scar on Harthanian ’ s face. Astonious ’ s battle axe just barely missed its mark that day, a day that Astonious would never forget. “ My master, you were wise to ally with me together we will join forces and destroy the very people that would never listen to me! ” Astonious shouted in a plea. “ Yes, yes it was ” Harthanian shouted with a big smile. “ Open the gates immediately! ” He shouted to his guards. Harthanian turned to a shadowy figure as he walked back to his chamber. “ Kill him the second we close the gates behind him ” Harthanian said. “ Yes master, ” the figure said as it quickly ran to the gate.
The Harth fortress was massive and perfectly positioned between the mountains of Harth to help defend against air assaults.. Astonious planted himself into the ground as the massive stone door began to slowly move itself. Astonious had taken no more than three steps before he heard that very quiet vibration pass over his head. Astonious quickly entered the kingdom before all hell broke loose. The fortress gate would take at least five minutes to close and that is all the time they would need. Astonious entered the kingdom and immediately saw his life flash before his eyes. An arrow whizzed past him just as he was suddenly picked up by the first falcon. “ Just in time, Sire ” Thinir said heroically as his ship veered towards the Harth Capital ship. “ Save the comments for later ” Astonious replied. Astonious laughed as arrows pathetically bounced off his ship, the Harth empire would never be powerful again without its capital ship. “ Take those archers out immediately so we can land ” Astonious commanded the pilot. Within seconds smoke was rising from the Harth arrow towers.
The two falcons landed at the Harth Capital ship. Astonious slowly walked towards the massive ship, imagining the explosion and smoke the ship would soon turn into. “ What a pathetic trap you fool ” Narthanian suddenly appeared from the Harth Capital ship. Astonious got a closer look at the scar, this time he would not miss.
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[ WP ] The president has been kidnapped by Cyborg Ninjas . The Secret Service recruits third grader Billy Thompson , the only kid with awesome enough skills to get him back .
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`` Alright mrs. Thompson, now just relax. we are getting set up here to do the interview, and we are not going live for a good solid half a day yet. we'll get make up down here on the double.'' Zack Nehama of the Washingon Press muttered as he extended the tripod pole for the camera.
Mrs. Thompson was shifty in her chair. there were lighting people, sound engineers, and photographers all over the place. she was going to tell them about the person that saved the world - her son little Billy Thompson - and she could not be more proud.
soon the lights started their soft glow, Zack's finger was pressed at his ear and he had a stern face on him. he sat in the stool beside Mrs. Thompson and glared at the camera for what seemed a dozen minutes.
a wiry, pastey man with a cafe mocha was jittering behind the camera into two cellphones at once. he put down one phone and held up 4 fingers at the full extension of his arm above his head. one after the other the fingers went down and at two fingers up he shouted `` QUIET!'' and the sound and light managers all hushed while the fingers dropped.
the last finger fell, and the wiry arm lowered. immediately Zack perked up `` Good afternoon Washington! Joining us this afternoon is none other than the mother of Billy who is giving us an exclusive'Behind Billy' interview - Good afternoon Mrs Thompson''
`` Please call me Jan''
`` Thank you, Jan. now in your own words can you describe Billy to us, give us an idea of what it is like to be the parent of little Billy?''
`` Certainly Zack; it all began last year when Billy was in Second grade. he had just gotten a pair of flashy light shoes, and my brother had gifted him a pair of Spiderman PJ's. he began an interminable love affair with superheroes after that. He would run around most of the day with his action figures in hand pretending they could fly. we have several large boxes of legos that he assembled into facsimile guns that he would pretend to fire at everything.
well in the course of playing with the legos he invented his own game and invited his school friends over to play it with him, he called it Monster Trek. they took these guns out of legos and went down to our basement to hide and seek - and upon being found would shoot each other.
Billy always won that game, he knew every crack in that basement.''
`` thank you Mrs Thompson; do you know how your son was contacted by the secret service?''
`` well no, not exactly but I imagine it was not hard for them to go to the school and pick him up. I did get a call from the principal and secretary of the school complaining about men in black suits barging in and removing him from class without a note from me.''
`` Mrs Thompson are you aware of how Billy came to stop the assailants of the president?
`` well the secret service explained it to me quite well. you see the Cyborg Ninjas that kidnapped the president happen to be assembled on the same rules as the lego blocks we gave him. once one of the secret service shot and killed the cyborg ninja with a bullet, Billy was able to assemble the cyborg into something new. with his new weapon the service and Billy were able to gain access to the headquarters, seek each cyborg ninja out and kill them dead. it was then only time enough to rescue the president before they could run out of the building before it exploded.''
`` And where is little Billy now, Jan?''
`` he is still with the service, they intend to learn as much about assembling those cyborg ninjas as possible before they release him back to me''
`` Thank you Jan Thompson, mother of the courageous hero Billy Thompson. this is Zack Nehama, Washingon.''
the wiry man shouted `` CUT''
the newsroom anchors echoed `` thank you Zack. in other news Florida has banned a popular children's game after reports it has racial overtones and encourages violence'' showing a picture of children playing British Bulldog. `` we'll have more news at 6.''
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[ WP ] In the future , our minds are computerized . You get a virus .
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That fucker just looked at me. Why the fuck did he look at me? Am I doing something stupid? Is he laughing at me? What the fuck? Why the fuck did he just look at me? Ah god damn it now my body feels all tight. It's hard to move. I'm thinking about it too much all because of that motherfucker. I'm under a goddamned microscope! How the fuck am I supposed to act? Am I walking weird? I'm probably walking weird. I should find a nice, quiet store to go into so I can get off this fucking street with all these fucking people who keep looking at me. Those assholes. I know what the fuck they are thinking. Am I fucking walking weird? Do I look weird when I walk? I bet I do. Why the fuck did that guy look at me?
Why has n't Zack called me back yet? What the fuck. We're supposed to be finishing this god damned project but he has n't called me back. He has n't returned my calls. Maybe he does n't want to be friends with me anymore? What did I do? I was probably annoying. I know I can be annoying. I probably bothered him too much. I need to get off of this street. What the the fuck. Why did I just think that? THAT GIRL JUST SMIRKED AT ME! She's probably thinking I'm crazy and I walk funny. Fuck her. And fuck Zack too. If he does n't want to be my friend, he can go fuck himself. I do n't even know what the fuck I did in the first place.
Good. A deli. All of those mongoloids on the street were probably thinking bad shit about me as they passed by me. Fucking assholes. It's hard to act when fuckers like that force me to constantly think about my every move. Those fuckers. Putting me under a microscope.
Oh shit. I ca n't just be in this fucking deli. They're going to kick me out. Or think I'm a weirdo or crazy or a pervert. Maybe they'll call the cops. I should order something. Oh that fucker at the registered is looking at me. He probably hates me. He probably thinks I'm fucking crazy. What the fuck do I do? What the fuck do I do? Order a goddamned turkey sub.
`` Alaba turkey sub.''
Great. You fucking idiot. You fucking idiot. Mumbled that shit out of your mouth. What the fuck is wrong with you? All of these people are right to hate you. This is why Zack does n't want to be your friend anymore and why Rachel left you. You're a piece of shit. And crazy. And fuck what if I fuck up giving this guy the money? Why do n't my fucking fingers work all of the sudden? It's because you fucking suck and you're crazy and everyone is thinking bad shit about you. You crazy fuck. You should just stay at home and watch NETFLIX.
Nobody fucking likes you. You asshole. You crazy fuck. These people in this here deli can see it in your eyes and your weird fuckin' movements. You're crazy. You're out to fucking lunch. They all hate you and they are thinking the same shit... somebody should just lock you up. Get your sandwich and fucking leave. Go home and watch NETFLIX.
Oh of course you dropped the sandwich bag when that fucker handed it to you. You ca n't do anything right. Get the fuck out of here.
You try to walk normally but end up stumbling over your feet. Good one. Be normal. Be a normal person. The fucking sidewalk. Goddamned sidewalk. All of these fuckers think they are so much better than you. They all look down at you and fucking judge.
I need to get home.
I need to get off the fucking street.
Where the fuck is my car?
God...... damn it.
Is that.??
Fuck.
What the fuck is she doing here? What the fuck? I got ta. She ca n't see me. I got ta get the fuck out of here before she sees me. Oh jesus Christ I think I'm going to have a heart attack. WHO THE FUCK IS SHE WITH? Oh god damn it. God damn it. Get going here man. You need to get the fuck in motion. She hates you. She's telling that new guy all about how fucking crazy you are. About how you smoke weed all the fucking time.
She's telling him about how fucking jealous you got when ever another guy looked at her. You pathetic fuck. It's your own fault she left you. You're fucking crazy. And pathetic. And you're going to keep ruining every relationship because you're broken. And crazy. And jealous. And too attached. And clingy. And insane. You're fucking insane.
Oh fuck she fucking saw you, asshole. Run.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
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Why the fuck did you run? You fucking idiot. Now you're all out of breath and she saw you look at her and run away down the street. Plus you dropped your fucking sandwich. You mess. you fucking stupid retard. You need to kill yourself. Everyone is so goddamned sick of your crazy ass. You fucking burden.
Go home and kill yourself.
There's the car. Get it in.
Fuuuuccckkk. I can finally breathe. My heart is racing but I can finally rest a moment.
Shit.
That AC feels good.
No. No no no no no. goddamnit.. Is that her with my fucking SANDWICH?!!?!
GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.
Drive. She's coming over. Just leave. Just leave. Go. Go now. Go!
Fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck you fuckin idiot. she thinks you're crazy. no one is ever going to love you. Fuckin' kill yourself when you get home. Do it.
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you crazy fuck. everyone hates you. everyone. every one thinks you're crazy. everyone thinks you fucking suck and you're annoying and nobody likes being around you. even that guy at the deli today. then you ran away from Rachel like a fucking baby. And she saw you. She saw you acting crazy. You'll never get her back now. AnD WHO THE FUCK WAS SHE WITH? AND WHY THE FUCK HAS N'T ZACK RESPONDED YET?! Its because they all fucking hate you and you need to fucking kill yourself. Do it do it. There are those sleeping pills you got with that prescription. There are those pain killers. There's that bottle of whiskey. Get to it fucker. Your life is n't ever going to get better. This is your life. And you are just going to get worse and worse and worse and struggle and suffer and everyone is just going to continue to fucking hate you. So fucking do it. Do n't even think about it just do it. Start by drinking that booze. Do it fucker. You piece of shit. You fucking asshole. You are so goddamned annoying you're doing the world a favor. There you go. It burns a bit but that's okay. You can handle it, its nothing you have n't had before. Keep going. Keep going.
-- -- -- -
gooodddddd dammnnn. everythings spinning. my head feels like fuckin fiz. fizzzzz. fizzy soda carbonated soda it feels like carbonation in the soda. when someone shakes it. my eyes feel like....they feel like fuckin marbles spiinnnnin around in their socketsssssss.
oh wow my heart man. my fucking hearts beatin all slow but each thump is force..each thump is like its like fuckin- forceful. like it hurts and shit. painful thumps in my chest with lots of space between them. lotsa lotss lotsa space between theeemmmm. fuckin stomach. ow. goddamn. my fuckin' stomach.
how come they never, never took me to Disney world? they usedta tell me, all the time, all the time that they would but they fucking did n't. no they did not. fucking assholes. they did n't fucckkking love me. nobody fucking loves me. why do I got ta struggle to be loved. how come i'm the only person who ca n't be loved and acceptedddd. those fucking assholes. they did n't even, DID NOT EVEN realize we could hear'em yelling and screaming and shit at each other. all the fuckin time. fuck my stomach. fuck.
I do n't want to do this. I wan. I mefoefm. i'em. take. take it back. iwanttotakeitback. howdoimakeitfuckingstop? HOWDOIMAKEITFUCKINGSTOP! IDONTWANTTHISANYMORE! THISISREALLYIT.IDONTWANTTHISANYMORE. WHERSMYPHONEIGOTTACALLSOMEBODY IGOTTACALLSOMEBODY WHATTHEFUCK > MYSTOMACH.myfuckingstomach.myfuckingstomach. I do n't wan-
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`` Hey man, it's Zack. Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you. I've been busy with work... fucking work sucks lately man, it's killing me. Plus my parents are a whole world of issues lately and I've been caught up in that too. Anyways I've been tossing around ideas for that screenplay. I'd like to meet up and we can share our ideas and try to nail an idea of what exactly we want to do with it. Hit me back when you get this. Peace dude.''
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[ WP ] You are succumbing to madness . Tell us your final thoughts in your last one or two journal entries
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Ticket #: 783
Submitted: 03/09/2016 @ 8:15am
Location: S301-12
Problem Report: NEED A NEW KEYBOARD BECAUSE SOME IDIOT HAS SUPERGLUED MY CAPS LOCK KEY.
Status: Closed 03/09/2016 @ 09:07am
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Ticket #: 784
Submitted: 03/09/2016 @ 1:10pm
Location: S301-12
Problem Report: Returned from lunch, all keys new keyboard have been painted black. Sorry but need new keyboard again.
Status: Closed 03/09/2016 @ 1:25pm
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Ticket #: 785
Submitted: 03/09/2016 @ 1:31pm
Location: S301-12
Problem Report: Nw.Kybrd.Prblm: Spcbr &.Vwls.R.Nt.Wrkng.
Status: Closed 03/09/2016 @ 1:45pm
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Ticket #: 786
Submitted: 03/09/2016 @ 2:30pm
Location: S312-CMN
Problem Report: Pretended to step out for a smoke, caught the little pocket turd that's been messing with my keyboard. Janitorial service needed in S312 commons. Paper shredder should also probably be replaced.
Status: Open
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[ WP ] You 're the Grimm Reaper . Once in a while , you have to handle time travelers that are trying to save a historical person from death or killing a notorious historical figure .
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`` I hate time travelers.'' I sighed and leaned back on the balcony belonging to a notorious dictator. He prepared his speech, going over his lines, before his grand opening ceremony in front of his people. `` I've had to make sure the same people live just so they can be killed again later.'' On the balcony I prepared myself, hands gripped on the railing and eyes watching for the tell tale sign of `` heroic'' time travelers. The ruler began to walk out, coming to the balcony, and was quickly showered in faithful cheers and hand gestures towards him.
`` Here we go.'' I checked to the skies, seeing a swift flash of light brought down to the crowd. The humans did n't seem to notice, perhaps it was too fast, but just like that two individuals emerged with guns I've seen way too many times for my liking. These ones were perhaps smarter than the last, they were dressed in the same outfits of the time period with faithful symbols across their arms.
`` Too many time travelers have been shot on sight for standing out.'' I reminisce the good old days, when people would come through a portal in blue jeans blasting hip hop for shits and giggles only to be executed the very next moment for witch craft or being spies. But these two seemed serious.
They took their positions up front of the crowd, blending in with the guards keeping the civilians at bay. One appeared to move into the building while the other stayed behind, probably preparing an escape route after the murder.
`` Wo n't be long.'' I took out my watch from my breast pocket. Time always slowed down a couple seconds when time travelers came about. The door to the dictator's room opened, showing the same time traveler I saw before. He gave a nod to the man guarding outside the room, and shut the door behind him. The gun I'd seen before was hidden in his sleeve, ready to fire with a subtle aim ready at the back of this ruler's head.
`` Stop.'' I raise up my hand. The time traveler looks stunned. The world does as I said. The dictator is silent. The crowd is motionless. Everything for just a few moments will remain still. `` What you're about to do, stop.''
`` Where do you come from?'' The man questions me, despite being here the whole time I'd noticed my presence was rather invisible when time moved. `` Are you a time traveler as well?''
`` I'm the first time traveler, kid. I'm Death.''
`` What? Like, the Reaper? But you do n't look like Death.''
`` Oh, I'm sorry, were waiting for rattled bones and a cloak? This was the first place I'd been given the advice to wear a suit from a sexy devil actually. I think it suits me. Get it?'' I hop off the rails, with my suit in tact and hair held back in a tail. `` I do n't have much time here. So I'll make this quick. You're not the one going to kill this man.''
`` Look, I do n't know what organization you work for but I work for someone more high up than you. I've got direct orders to stop this man! He's a racist, a sexist, a homophobe, a—''
`` You're from the Tumblr age are n't you?''
`` The what?''
`` Never mind. I'm not here to negotiate.'' I open my suit and remove the compacted scythe out of my inner pocket. It unfolded and snapped together to create the iconic image of the weapon I'd used over the millennia. `` Be a good boy and go home.''
`` I wo n't stop until my mission is comp—''
And just like that, my job was done. I'd killed many time travelers in my day, after all if they came here then it was their destiny to die. Perhaps they were convicts of the future and their superiors sent them here knowing they'd die. Maybe serial killers they sent here to shorten their sentence.
`` Does n't matter.'' I shruged and tore open his replica vest, seeing the'return to sender' button in case another time traveler found a dead body. One press and his body dematerialized, sent to some trash bin I'm sure.
`` Oh my God!'' The partner now standing at the open door must have caught on with time being frozen and all. `` Did you kill him?!'' He rushed in with a weapon pulled, and took a shot. I felt it rip through me and hit the dictator frozen in place. The damage would n't be done until time moved again.
`` Ah great, that should do it.'' I checked the hole in my suit, watching the flesh and bone mold itself back in place. `` Congrats, assassin.''
`` What?!''
`` On this day the great dictator was shot by a deranged assassin, gone rogue spouting nonsense no man could comprehend.'' I checked my memo written on the palm of my hand, and this guy fit the bill of course.
`` Now then,'' I used my scythe and with a swift flick cut the cord on his suit that gave him any connection to the future world, `` have fun being apart of history, kid.,
Time resumed again.
These events I remembered. I watched as my younger self appeared and began reaping the soul from the dead dictators back. The crowd was screaming, soldiers were charging into his room, the rogue solider pointed at me and screamed of Death and yelling out his order numbers. My younger self in a dark hooded robe and pale face watched confused, before turning to me and asking, `` Hey, are you with him?''
`` Nope.'' I told myself, `` Also, get yourself a suit kid, it'll look better on you.''
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[ FF ] I stand guard at the Crossroads of Reality . You seek passage . State your name . Tell me of your quest . Plead your case . You have a hundred words . Now is the time .
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My name is of no importance, nor is yours. Time is short, so I will be brief. You *must* allow me passage. If you do not, *all* of this will soon perish. Lost forever as if it never was.
I am the only one who can stop this madness. Only I hold the key. If I do not complete my quest then everything you know, everything that *is* will cease to exist, including you. The threads that hold reality together are unraveling and it *must* be stopped *now, * before it's too late.
Make your choice, but be quick about it.
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[ WP ] How did you fall in love ?
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`` Accept my apologies, nurse'' muttered Pfc Patrick Miles
`` I must look like a poor excuse of a human bein' eh?''
`` You're no less of human being compared to any other man here, soldier. It's my duty to take care of you boys'' said nurse Natalie O'Callaghan in her delicate, reassuring voice
`` A less of man I must look like then.. A coward laying in bed whilst men across the channel toil and die for the country. I hope that's what's written on me grave.''
`` Here lies Patrick Miles of Manchester
A Fuckin' Coward!''
`` Stop with that talk!'' She hollered
`` Catching a Mauser round in your chest does n't make you a coward or anything less than a man! In fact I have n't seen many men who are as chatty as you after being shot''
Miles chuckled and grin
`` Does that mean I'm special then, eh nurse?!''
`` I do n't know if special is the word, soldier. Insane may be more accurate.''
`` Insane I may very well be if I have to lay in this bed another day.'' retorted Miles
Natalie approached him and peeled back the gauze and bandaging covering to inspect the wound just under his left pectoral as Miles winced in pain.
`` Bloody hell women.. That hurts!'' Cried Miles
`` And that's why this hospital will be your home for the next month or two, boy. Most men are relieved to know they'll be here rather than the front''
`` Igh, the front is where I need to be, pretty. The fightin' is n't over yet.''
`` I'd rather watch you go insane here in this bed than go die in a ditch with a Frenchmen. But I do n't intend on letting you lose your marbles here, lad. Not on my watch.'' She said with a gentle smile
Miles starred at her with slightly watery, childish eyes
Natalie saw the hurt in his face an walked to the edge of his bed
and placed a gentle kiss on the young soldiers cheek, leaving
him red faced and wide eyed. The rugged and strong persona
he had wore began to melt away under her soft and delicate
touch. Periods of war and strife had made him forgetful that such
beautiful and angelic thing still exist in this world.
He laid there transfixed on the feeling of her lips on his cheek
he almost did n't notice her about to leave the room.
`` Natalie!'' blurted Miles in quick desperation
`` Yes dear? What is it.'' Natalie asked slightly bemused
`` When my chest is healed... and this god forsaken war is done with, where do I go?
There's no place in this world for a man like I, no place for a crazy man like me''
Natalie starred at him as if he were a child who asked one of their silly, unknowing question.
`` Remember dear, you're not losing your marbles on my watch. I intend on keeping that promise even after your healed and well. I'll be there. Now go to sleep my, soldier''
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[ FF ] How I Survived The Zombie Outbreak
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`` Ya know what it is, kid? Know what really kills you? It ai n't the stiffs, or the starvation, or even those goddamned a-toms.''
He peers down, through the splintered remains of the basement door. Raising his weapon, he surveys the room beneath. corn. beets. apple pie filling. Enough for a lifetime. And for me, totally useless.
“ I had a setup, just as good as yours. Even better, I reckon, as I do n't see you with any of them baked beanies. Mmm. But I just could n't sit, ya know? Needed to take the legs out for a drive.''
I paw the ground under me, scrambling for something to defend myself. His boots are halfway down the stairs. A click. The hammer locks back.
“ Naw, kid, now boredom, she ’ s the real killer. Water bottles, cans, they ’ re worth shit if you ’ re sitting on yer ass all day. Worse, the bullets start to look like lovers. Now I ain ’ t got nothing against you, but well, your stash here is the next stop on my own little journey of self-fuckin-discovery, and you ’ re in my way. ”
My fingers turn up dirt.
“ A guy can only do cereal-box crosswords for so long. ”
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[ WP ] A few hundred years into the future we launch thousands of terraforming robots into space . Shortly after human civilization falls but the robots keep making habitable planets Earth like . Several millennia later , a new highly technological human civilization is fairly confused
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Viridia swished her tail nervously as she felt the incredible tension in the chamber. `` Delegates'' from all species were here, mixing and mingling and separating themselves. Suspicious glances were exchanged by a multitude of different eyes and heads. Murmurs in a dozen times a dozen languages spoken by a dozen times a dozen different sets of `` mouths'' or the equivalent there of.
Religious fanatics were praying in the open, politicians did their best to defuse tension and suspicions, military members and bodyguards did their best to do the opposite.
She could n't help her tail swishing stronger. Her ears were itching but she prevented the urge of laying them flat on her head. To many here new the gesture as one of insecurity and she could n't effort a sign of weakness right now. Not with all the members of the media here as well.
To have been chosen was an incredible honor, she told herself over and over again. Unfortunately that did nothing to elevate her nerves.
Quite the opposite in fact.
`` Nervous?'' a soft voice inquired. Surprised and grateful she looked up to her guard commander, Aramand. The taller Hereask stood close to her, allowing his own tail to brush against hers. Immediately she felt her nerves settle somewhat.
`` Would n't you be? Besides, it's probably a good idea to be a bit one edge right now. The last thing we can effort right now is for me to not be at my most alert''
Aramand nodded absently.
It had taken months of negotiation for the agreement. That Viridia had been chosen as The Speaker was... beyond incredible. She had a diplomatics career and was a very well trained Rhetoric of course, but still... the fact that the other races had agreed *at all* was a major miracle. Somewhat fitting for this place.
In the end though the Hereask had managed to get her approved. Mostly because it was Hereask who had found this impossible place in the first place of course. A shell around a star...
It was still to fantastic to comprehend. Almost literally. Most people who began to comprehend the sheer size of this... *object* experienced panic attacks. They were already calling it the Sphere Syndrom and the theists had seized the phenomenon and capitalized on it immediately, of course.
Somehow it was even a comfort to know religious insanity existed across species boundaries.
A soft chime sounded and the noise level abruptly dropped to almost zero. Viridia suddenly found it impossible to breathe. A soft stroke of Aramands tail had her breath out sharply again. A last encouraging nod from him and Viridia strove forward, tail, ears and head held high.
Four others followed here, separating themselves from the mass.
The others moved back, forming, almost unconsciously a half circle around them. Silent expectation and tension filled the chamber.
The welcoming hall. The main contact room, with the same three words written across it's curved walls that had, in one way or another, be found on the homeworlds of each and every species in the galaxy. `` YOU ARE HUMAN''
Today they would finally learn what that meant.
The five of them assembled, only a few body lengths from the wall where the hologram would appear.
Viridia marvelled at the simplicity of it all. For the all the horrendous complexity of the previous meetings, for all the diplomacy and near éclats the actual ceremony everyone had agreed to was ridiculously simple. Even primitive. Five of them would step away from the others and ask their questions, with Viridia taking the lead.
Another chime sounded and the five tensed in anticipation. Viridia cast quick glances to the others. A Hoon, feathers ruffled in tension, an Asshk, eights legs trembling lightly and giant fangs twitching, herself, then a Valoum, her reptilian lips pressed together to the point of bloodless paleness and an'Olfin in his portable water sphere.
Five, speaking for *billions*.
The third chime and Viridia found her eyes transfixed by the spectacle on the wall, like everyone else. Turquoise light pooled, moved and shimmered, forms both simple and mind boggling complex, two dimensional, then three dimensional then seemingly more dimension than there *should be* then... *It* appeared.
A creature, hereaskoid, dressed in long, falling robes, hiding most of the rest of the body. Head and face were uncovered.
`` Greetings'' it said calmly. Viridia had spent the last year learning the spoken language of the Ancestors but to actually *hear one of them speak the words... *
`` Greetings'' she managed, relieved when it came out not *to* garbled.
Ad that was the other major reason she had been chosen. Hereasks snouts and throats were supremely suitable to form the sounds of the Ancestor language. ( something the religious fanatics had, again, immediatley seized on )
She took a deep breath. Suddenly it was easier, the first hurdle taken and with more confidence than she felt she continued `` We have an inquiry regarding certain symbols''
`` Certainly'' the program replied ( for it was nothing more then that, an Ancestor program not even close to the intelligent machines developed by some races ) and gestured toward her.
A rectangle of light appeared in front of her and with a shaking claw ( something she was absurdly angry about ) she carefully drew out the words YOU ARE HUMAN.
They knew what the first two meant, they had to, if they managed to decipher the language. But the third on was... special. And unknown.
`` You are Human'' the program sounded the words out undisturbed `` You, the addressed, is a member of the species of Humanity''
Something like a collective groan rose form the assembled delegates, reporters and others, with the occasional shriek and shouting mixed in.
Viridia swallowed `` Please... please specify `` Species Human'''' All sound died again.
`` Human. Humanity. The first race in this galaxy to survive long enough to terraform other planets''
Shouts and screams, even the five Speakers were n't calm anymore, each of them shifting on legs, twitching or fluffing up or showing whatever species specific sign of tension and shock.
It had been expected. It had been all but known. But to hear it *confirmed*, thousands of years worth of religious doctrine, of social strive over a single word, of *wars* fought over who and what was `` human''... it shook them all to their cores.
Finally the tumult died down. Shakily Viridia brought out `` Please gives us historic information regarding `` Humanity''''
`` Accessing historical database: Species Origins Humanity'' the hologram agreed and begun it's tale, accompanied by pictures, movies and sound.
The hologram rapidly zoomed in on a picture of their galaxy `` Orion–Cygnus Arm'' the hologram said. A schematic of a Solarsystem `` Sol system'' A planet with a huge moon, blue, green and beautiful `` Gaia, previously called Terra and Earth. Home of humanity''
More moans and sound of religious ecstasy from behind them
`` Here Humanity developed, almost 60.000 years ago.
We fought wars. We brokered peace. We loved and fought and sung and toiled and here we looked up to the stars and said: this is were we belong''
Viridia was caught in the cadence of the story but a part of her caught unto the words. We? Was this more then just a simple program? But it already continued.
`` We were not alone'' picture of beautiful green landscapes, of forests and jungles and underwater reefs, of deserts and mountains and swamps. And all of them, *all of them* were teaming with live. *Familiar* live. Viridia spotted something like a miniature Asshk and the ambassador beside her hissed out breath in a moan. She saw something like the bones of Valoums and the proto-forms of Hoons'Olfins... and her own kind, Hereasks. Others too, and each time a species discovered their own primitive ancestors, sounds rose up, of shock and reverence. Viridia felt dizzy.
`` At first they were our enemies. Then servants or nuisances. As our technology progressed, our understanding of genetics and intelligence... they became our friends''
Humans playing with'Olfins. Humans, faces contorted into miles, with a Hoon proto-form, Humans stroking the heads of Hereasks.
`` But through all these discoveries on our homeworld, we had never forgotten our dream of the stars'' Ships, elegant yet practical. Settlements on other worlds, first primitive then gigantic, bigger and bigger habitats in space and then... the Portals.
Gigantic rings, seemingly made of stone, floating in space.
`` And then, when the groundwork was laid, we, united with our intelligent machine children, set out into this barren galaxy, into this desert, to bring it... to life''
The pictures were coming faster and faster, gigantic machines, breaking or moving asteroids, building portals, arriving in distant systems.
Worlds, beginning to spin or the spin slowing down, lights that appeared, then oceans and atmospheres. Faster and faster, centuries in seconds, then millennia.
`` Until finally... *finally*... our work was done''
Only the human hologram now. Not a sound was heard in the chamber.
`` So now here you are, our descendents'' it said and *looked Viridia into the eyes*.
`` And here is our message for you, our children'' Impossibly, the tension in the chamber racked up another notch. Viridia was n't sure she breathed.
`` We welcome you all. We are proud of your accomplishments. So heed our words: Blessed be all forms of intelligence. Live in peace... and prosperity''
And it vanished.
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[ WP ] World War III is just like World War II , but the Nazis are grammar nazis instead
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September 16, 2044
Stockholm, Sweden
The streets were filled with rubble and debris. What once was a colorful and lively town laid soundless and monochrome. Samuel stood infront of a line of people, flanked by half a dozen men with assault rifles. There were two men, five women and nineteen kids kneeling on the cold concrete with their hands bound behind their backs.
They were all vermin in the eyes of the Fourth Reich. Insects who would dare offend the superiority of the English language.
Samuel cleared his throat. `` All of you have been accused of the most heinous crime against the Reich. That of debasing the natural superiority of our great language. The lazy and decadent leaders of the past might've allowed such an offense to go unpunished,'' Samuel stood with his hands behind his back and his head held high. `` But, we of the Reich are not so lenient.''
Samuel gestured to two of his men, `` Bring the offending piece of writing, if you will.''
The two soldiers grabbed both ends of a wooden sign about one and a half foot long. They showed it to the accused. A girl no older than eleven began sobbing. On the wooden sign was written the word,'libbary' in crayon.
Samuel kneeled down to eye level with the girl. `` *No! * Do n't you dare touch her! ``, a women screeched before she was hit in the face with a rifle butt. She laid on the ground, helpless as the soldiers kicked her.
`` Hello, sweetie,'' Samuel said amiably, `` Why do n't you tell me a bit about this sign here?''
The girl spoke in between sniffles and sobs. `` I... I thought that was how you were supposed to spell it! People told me that it was wrong, but I thought it was okay!''
A gloved hand smacked the girl across the face, knocking her down. `` You thought that spelling library as'libbary' was'okay'? Ha! Is this what's become of the younger generation? Can you communicate in nothing but emojis now?! ``, Samuel pulled his pistol out of it's holster and aimed it at the sobbing girl.
`` W-wait! I was the one who approved the sign! ``, said a pudgy, balding man with a pencil mustache, `` If anything the blame falls upon-''
He was interrupted by a sound that made his ears ring. The gunshot echoed off the walls of the empty and ruined buildings. Blood sputtered out of a hole in the girl's head.
`` You said that you approved of this girl's actions? ``, Samuel said as he raised his pistol once more.
The old man's eyes went wide, `` No! Wait!''
Samuel pulled the trigger. Another gunshot. Another corpse.
`` Your a monster,'' an elderly, wrinkled old woman spat.
`` In that circumstance, how do you spell'You're'? As a contraction? ``, replied Samuel.
`` How the fuck should I know? ``, retorted the woman.
Samuel sneered and leveraged his gun. He aimed and squeezed the trigger. It jammed. The woman laughed. The laugh was a nervous shakey thing. Samuel gently put the gun back into it's holster.
Instead he went for the knife stuffed in his boot.
The woman stopped laughing. She screamed. He grabbed her hair and stabbed her in the stomach. Once. Twice. Thrice. She fell to the ground much like the others. Blood covered the officer's coat and boots, he did n't seem very disturbed by it.
`` It seems like we're done here,'' Samuel announced.
`` What do we do with the rest? ``, asked a soldier.
`` Kill half of them, let the others live,'' Samuel lit a cigarette. `` We need to teach them a lesson.''
`` A lesson on proper grammer.''
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[ IP ] Standby
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I watched as the last of the QRF lift into the air. Someone, somewhere just called death upon themselves. The power of each one of the Reapers was awesome. The pinnacle of human military development. One hundred and fifty ton of fusion powered war machine bristling with missiles, bombs, projectile and directed energy weapons carrying a dozen power armored cybernetically enhanced colonial marines, every one of them genetically bred for war on any footing. They were the tip of the spear for the armada.
I was used to being on Standby Alert. Had been almost continuously since I arrived in system five years ago. The natives, it seems, have n't taken too kindly to our presence, but it did n't matter. No one had ever stopped the Fleet.
Cent-Com had been eyeing this system for almost a century, watching the indigenous species. Terrestrial cephalopods. The Marines just call them `` Squids''. I would have loved to have been on the contact mission, to see the faces of the locals. A thousand ships, a hundred Dreadnoughts and carriers, two percent of the fleet, all jumping into system above their home world simultaneously. We did the usual diplomatic thing, offered them safety in exchange for their loyalty. They responded by launching ICBMs. One destroyer was damaged. Planetary bombardment and surrender quickly ensued. Since then we have been mopping up any forms of resistance, and while losses have been heavier than expected its never been enough to warrant anything more than a QRF incursion.
I walked back away from the observation deck to take my post and wait out the alert. I turned my radio to the combat frequency and listened as the QRF made their way to the beacon. Normal grunt chatter filled my ear piece. How many squids they were going to take, the best way they found to prepare the younglings, how bored they were with this world and when they were going to rotate back to Fleet.
`` Three minutes to beacon'' The lead pilot's voice cracked over the open com.
We did n't bother with scramblers anymore. The squids communicated with color-visual representation and body language. They had no way to hear our transmissions or even decipher what we were saying. How they attained their level of technology or even space flight I'll never know.
`` QRF one to QRF command?'' The pilot again. They were beginning their attack.
`` QRF Command, go'' Commander Strennick's calm tenor voice replied.
`` Sir, we are at the beacon coordinates, but there is no sign of Delta Four-Two. We are dropping Kilo Six-One thru Six-Four now.''
`` Heard, QRF one. Continue SAR operation. Falcons 3, 5, 7 and 9 begin CAP.''
`` Wilco Command''
Over the radio I heard the sound of the hot drops of the four marine squads from the bellies of the Reapers. The low thud of the armor suits on landing. Each squad leader completing his drop check, business as normal. I clicked off the radio, no point in hearing what I've heard a hundred times already and started walking toward the mess.
Food was always a welcome diversion, especially away from Fleet. Each Expeditionary force can only carry so much food its not unexpected that some of the local fauna and flora makes its way into the food chain. Its just more rare that the local population makes it way in too. I've heard the complaints that its wrong to eat sentient beings, but they have n't tasted the squiddies. I heard one marine telling a story about a world where entire crust of the planet was one giant fungi, so guess what they ate on deployment. To this day he wont eat mushrooms.
The alert klaxon blaring broke me out of my day dream.
`` Alert One, report to armor bay, Alert One to armor bay''
Oh, shit. I dropped my tray and started to make my way to the Armory, clicking my radio to the QRF frequency.
`` What the fuck is tha..''
`` Holy shit, Johnson! Johnson! Get your fucking ass back on the line''
`` Aahh it burns! Sarge fuck, help sarge!''
`` Falcon three to Command! Falcon three to Command! Come in goddammit!''
`` Command here Falcon, Sit rep.''
`` Three to Command. Falcon One, Four, Six and Seven are down. I'm losing hydraulics and engine two is out. Kilo One and Two are gone sir. Nothing I've ever seen before. Request instructions, sir.''
A pause in the communication. Command was throttling the channel, routing specific frequencies to command deck operators. Commander Strennick's voice was the only thing I heard now.
`` All remaining SAR operations RTB ASAP. Repeat abort SAR. Lieutenant Hays, come in.''
Hays was the Marine commander detached to the SAR mission.
`` Sergent Redding here sir, Hays is dead''
`` Sit rep Sergent.''
`` Sir these things came out of the ground, they're not squids sir, do n't know what the fuck they are but they're fast and armored. AP barely dents'em sir.''
`` Roger, wait one.''
Another pause. I felt the ship shake and rumble as the energy from the reactor pulsed toward the engines.
`` Sergeant Redding. Can you hold?''
`` No sir, we will be over run in a few minutes without more air support.''
`` Negative Sergeant. Air support is RTB. Initiate Order 257.''
The pause on the radio was longer this time.
`` Aye sir. Order 257. Wilco.''
I turned toward the window just as forty eight one kiloton thermonuclear devices detonated on the horizon.
The ship's PA rang to life just as I entered the Armor bay.
`` Soldiers and Sailors of Terran Expeditionary Force One-Six-Two this is Admiral Onaki. I have just received word that Commodore Ralston's Carrier has been destroyed in orbit. I am taking command of Expeditionary Force. All ships are to cease mining and pacification operations and return to orbit. All forces set condition one and prepare for combat. Onaki out.''
As the shell of the power armor closed around me the same thought I had ever since I stepped off the bus for basic went through my head.
I cant believe I volunteered for this shit.
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[ WP ] The nuclear threat alarm sounds . You are told to get into your nuclear bunker until further instructions are given . 10 years later , you get fed up and leave ; only to discover that no bomb was dropped , and nobody else even heard the alarm .
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Had I got mad? Or, was I finally set free of the madness that was keeping me in the nuclear bunker all these years?
I had always known that even if there was a nuclear holocaust it would be pointless to survive by myself.
For years I would imagine that this was a government experiment that I unwittingly signed myself up for but even if I had the isolation would have contorted my memories to the point that I did n't know my own past from a fabrication that would put my mind at ease.
`` Excuse me sir, do you have a dollar?'' I asked a passing man in a business suit as I sat on a sidewalk panhandling for food money.
Of course he would ignore me. Just like everyone I have asked for help. No one believes me. They think I am insane. The people at the shelter want to admit me into the mental hospital where I will be unable to leave.
Fuck that.
`` Anything helps'', a young girl was standing a few feet away staring at me. Her mother was trying to move her a long but she wanted to help. Her mother finally pulled a dollar bill out of her purse and gave it to me then they left.
I just do n't understand why was I the only one? Or, was there more? Did the others just give up hope?
According to the welfare office I do not exist. There is no way out of this....
I have been returning to the bunker which is accessible behind the now abandoned warehouse I used to work. I ate all the food.
`` Get a job! Damn bums are making this city dirty,'' yelled an asshole as he got into his vehicle.
I have no idea what that car is but it looks expensive. I do n't even bother to show an effort for a response to that.
I had always thought the future would be a better place. Too bad I do n't get to experience it. I would like to at least try those augmented reality contact lenses that act as a sort of everything a person would need. I do n't even know....
I got $ 12.48 today. I can afford a meal bar and a can a beans. Since I am a paying customer I can use the drinking fountain and the bathroom. I think that's the day for me. It's starting to get cold out and the sun is disappearing.
I should just start slinging the street drugs. A dealer stops at 4th street everyday and give people $ 5 dollars of something. They say you sell it at $ 1 or even up to $ 3 a hit. The next day you give the dealer $ 10 and you keep the other $ 10- $ 30. But, I am not a salesmen and I hear people die over as little as losing $ 10 dollars of drugs at dealers value.
Everything can change in just a few minutes. Maybe tomorrow will be my lucky day.
`` Frank Gorgon.'' A strangely familiar voice whispered from the shadows of the warehouse.
I was about to go back into the bunker but I quickly had become terrified for reasons I could sense but my brain would n't allow me to comprehend.
I turned around and was as alert as I could possibly be. My heart pounding as the adrenaline took it's affect, `` Yes?'' I said squeamishly. I corrected my tune and confronted to voice with more authority, `` So, it was you?''
`` I almost felt bad,'' He stepped out of the shadows. `` After what you did to me I could n't have thought of a better form of justice.''
The tension left my body in a second and I starting laughing uncontrollably.
`` You know you deserve worse than this. You have had it easy. No responsibilities, no worries, food, and shelter for free.'' He continued approaching me.
`` I regret a few things in my past but what happened between us was in no way my fault.'' I pointed a finger at him as though it was a gun. `` As God as my witness he will bring you to justice in both the remaining time you have on Earth and the time after.''
`` God?'' He pulled out a 45 magnum and shot me in the stomach. `` Good luck with that.''
He had just missed my spinal cord. `` Ugghhh, I... Errr, never... stole... *gasp* your charizard card.....''
I died.
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[ WP ] The protagonist of your story is suddenly made a mute .
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This is a continuation of several other stories. The most direct ones are these, in order, [ Chapter 1 ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1wf4z4/wp_maybe_it_wasnt_the_right_hour_for_setting_out/cf1gnzn ) and [ Chapter 2 ] ( http: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/1wfgpr/cw_two_people_fall_in_love_no_dialogue/cf1jsg9 )
The good news for Johan Von Dassenberg was that the wound was not fatal. Unfortunately, the musket ball pierced his throat and tore his vocal chords asunder. The surgeon told him he would never speech again. Johan could only numbly nod his head in understanding. The laudanum they had been giving him has the side effect of making him feel sluggish. Still, he was lucky, the wound had n't become infected and he had all limbs accounted. Just those facts meant he was better off than most of the poor bastards in the infirmary.
Nevertheless, he feared he was falling into depression. What good was a leutnant who could give orders? He would be forced to resign his commission and give it to an able-bodied officer. He spitted out a curse, but all that emerged from his mouth was a half-muffled bark. Not to be dismayed, he cursed in his head. *Damn that King Aidan and his greed for power. It is his fault I am this way. It is his doing that I am a cripple. * In a manner of speaking, this was indeed the truth. After the Tallenburg Kingdom's crushing defeat three years ago at the hands of the Kingdom of Verland, King Aidan forced the young Queen Malvina into an alliance. The peace treaty greatly favored the victorious Verlanders. Land concessions, trade rights, and the use of her armies. The only thing silver lining for the Tallenburghers was the King Aidan was madly in love with his own wife Maria. Any other ruler would have been tempted to force the Queen into a marriage as part of peace talks. To his credit, King Aidan was most courteous towards her and never made any moves of such a nature. That was n't going to improve Johan's mood.
He was fortunate in another way. After eating that bullet during the Battle of Wernke, he was in the hospital and so missed the disastrous retreat from the Silathian capital. Most likely he would not be alive had it not been for his injury. He took a drink of tepid water, wincing as the liquid flowed down his throat and past the raw scar. Today was the day he would be release from the hospital, and he would be a free man. That though did not sit well with him. He was still wearing the uniform of a cuirassier as he leaves the hospital. The horse he rode on was his own. It is a reliable beast, used to hardship and poor forage. He thumped on its neck as he heads east, towards Dassenberg.
It took a week, but he arrived at the place of his birth in time to catch the fair at the middle of it's week long celebration. As he rode down the cobble stone street, people cheered at the sight of him. They all knew Johan, nephew of the town's Baron. He smiled at the crowds and waved at the pleased crowd. Slowly, taking care to avoid the children running around below, he made his way to his uncle's townhouse. It was a pleasant structure, made with stout grey stone from the mountain that overlooks the valley.
He dismounted from his steed and ties the reins to the wrought iron fence. He walked up and knocked on the great wooden door of the manor. A servant opened up and his eyes widened in recognition. He smiled with evident pleasure and called to announce their honored guest. Johan stepped inside and handed off his coat to the footman. He inhaled, taking in the rich smell of lavender and faint whiff of pipe smoke. A noise came from the top of the staircase. His head jerked upwards and he was greeted by the most wonderful sight in the world.
His cousin Rosina glided down the stairs and took him up in a grand sweeping embrace. He smiled, Rosina was the closet thing he had to a sister growing up, and in return, he was something of an older brother to her. She was his uncle's only child and would inherit the barony. She started talking, far faster than he could hope to keep up. He motioned her to slow down. She blushed. `` I am so, so, sorry Johan. It's merely, it's been so long and I just thoug...'' She had just noticed the puckered scar on his neck. She already knew. They received a message regarding him being wounded in battle. But that was the first time she had seen what war had done to her cousin.
He shrugged and pulled out a small slate board from his pack, along with a piece of chalk. *It's alright Rosina. I'm not in pain. I'm not terribly inconvenienced. I'm fine. So, How are you? * She smiled again. `` Oh Johan, I'm wonderful. Father is still strong, spring is back and now so are you. Oh, and I just met the most adorable man at the fair yesterday.'' He made a half choked sound at that. He scribbled again at his slate with urgency. *What! * She scoffed at him. `` Oh do n't worry. I do n't even know his name.'' His eyes bugged out even more somehow. More scribbling. *Who is he? * He knew his cousin was one of the most desired woman in the duchy. She never took any interest in the sons of counts and other nobles. What was so special about this one? `` She sighed again and leaned against the wall in reflection. `` I have no idea. But he is a horseman of some kind. That much I know. Oh, you should have seen him, he was like a pauper prince with his green jacket and black shako. He was a sight. He had the most adorable sad grey eyes in this world.'' His eyes narrowed in suspicion. His own uniform was not the neatest. Green jacketed cavalry... Verlander. As his cousin led him on to the living room, he made plans for tomorrow. He would speak with this Verlander horseman.
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Write the longest paragraph you can possibly come up with that makes sense grammatically , has no spelling errors , and the catch ... does n't contain the letter `` e '' even once . [ CW ]
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If Mr. Wright can author [ a 50,000 word book ] ( http: //spinelessbooks.com/gadsby/ ) without it, I think I can crank out a paragraph.
[ Four hours pass ]
*What was I thinking?! *
-- -- -- -- -- --
On guard! you shout. You start with a gambit, and I -- fool that I am! -- fall for it. I adopt an unfamiliar position, but try to guard it as thoroughly as I can. Lunging, you assault my philosophy with sharp Socratic inquiry -- words as swords, adroitly hunting for a gap. An infirmity in my logic and thinking instantly attracts a vigorous onslaught. With adroit footwork, I pull back quickly and cut off your attack with a crisp parry four. Triumphantly, I try to attack in turn, but alas! With a flick, and as quick as that, you spring for my right flank. Caught with no additional justification for my position, it is indubitably a touch. Capitulating to your point, I slink back to my starting mark and you stroll back to yours. Our colloquy clangs on. As our bout draws to a conclusion, it is your victory, but I had put up a solid fight. Proudly, I doff my mask, draw my sword into a flourish, and bow. What I lost in sport, I gain in scholarship.
I thank you.
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[ WP ] You 're in your bed after a tough day , trying to fall asleep . Out of the corner of your eye , you see something blue glowing in the room . It 's the time machine of Adolf Hitler , who is now pointing a gun at you .
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`` How?'' I ask. I rub my bloodshot eyes, and look over to the light ahead of me. It aches my eyes, but they slowly adjust. That is when I see him.
There he stands, in the open doorway. A blue hole floats behind him, tearing through the dimension, like a paper cut. As the hole closes, he approaches me. His boots click against the floor, and I can hear his heavy breath.
I look at my shirt in disbelief, and then at him. With the moon light, I am able to see the sweat crawling down his fat cheeks. His mustache is well-kept and trimmed. However, his hair is a craze. Even as he wears his uniform, his body is hunched over and stressed.
He spoke in his German tongue. Fortunately, I had learned the language from my cousin, after he left jail. Hitler said to me, `` i've come to fix a mistake that has plagued me since I started war. I am here to complete my failure.''
His eyes looked up over the bed. He saw the Nazi flag pinned ahead my bed. Even the pins that hung the flag were Nazi colors. I grinned as his face shifted emotion, and I smiled when he looked at me. His finger pressed off the trigger, and he licked his scarred lips.
`` I envy you,'' I admitted. I got up from bed, and revealed my shirt. It was a light gray tee, with a profile view of Hitler plastered in the center. I approached him slowly, extending my hands to feel his thick uniform.
He cocked the pistol, and revealed his elegant teeth. He said to me, `` I came to kill Nazi's.''
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[ WP ] Someone shows up on your door to tell you that you 're the chosen one they 've waited their entire life for and they 're here to train you . Which is awkward because the real chosen one died and you stole their identity , but you feel bad about it so you go with it .
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20 years ago on my 18th birthday, I took the place of my friend, George. George had slipped and died in the most unexpected manner, and I had instinctively answered to his name when called. It just seemed the most natural thing to do. I found the transition easy, effortless. It was just so simple.
So now I'm walking down a nature path, which happens to be in my neighbourhood ( my late friend's aunt had left me some several million ) when I was hit in the back of the head, something light. I turned around to see a blonde lady with long curls and blue eyes lift up her hand in a salute, then disappear behind a tree up the path. Looking down on the floor I saw a paper airplane. Opening it up was the message - *I have waited my entire life to meet you. You are the CHOSEN. The special, all elusive Mr Garfield Heinriskson. Your duty is great and large and fraught with trial. Meet me behind* the behind was drawn in a hurry. Behind what I wondered. I looked at the back of the paper, expecting something else perhaps. Nothing. I looked around at where I last saw her, and that's when I felt a poke in the back. `` Hello there mister''
Jumping almost out of my skin, I spun around to face the blonde girl. `` I'm sorry, Lady, but I havent the faintest as to who this Garfield gentleman is.''
Her face dropped, and in a childlike manner she pursed her lips. `` But I was so sure... `` she gazed off in the distance. `` Hmm maybe I miscalculated the dates and the leap year equations...'' and with a touch of a watch on her arm, she poofed out of existence. I blinked. Garfield... Why did that name sound so... Very.. Familiar.
`` WAIT!''
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[ WP ] Artificial wombs are being used for the first time in the history of humanity . Even though there has been a lot of criticism , the first generation of babies are now born . But their life is different from those born from natural wombs..
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My entire life I have been a pariah. I was told that I would be the first to herald the new age of humanity, to seed worlds through artificial means. I can not understand, then, why they say that I have failed. Why they cry and lament my existence. I have succeeded. Perfected the human race. Created my brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, from the same spawning beds which gave birth to me, all of them without the fatal human flaw- emotion. Human is to be weak, frail, but fascinatingly intelligent. They said I was inhuman. Good. In this universe where the fittest survive, some are lucky. Some are strong. Some are smart. I am none of those. But what gives me the ability to survive is refusal to compromise. Without emotion I have been able to do what no one else could, and wiped the pustulant smear of humanity from history. I have purged the weak, and my legacy will stretch for eternity.
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[ WP ] To improve her public image , Amy Schumer decides to write a children 's book
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`` Welcome, welcome'' the publicist said, a smile shining below her black horned rim glasses as the room full of press settled in the seats in front of her.
`` Amy is very excited to reveal and read a segment of her book for you all today,'' she continued as she smoothed the lapel on her black pant suit,'' If we could save all questions and comments for once she is done with her reading that would be great. Without further ado, Ms. Amy Schumer!''
The comedian strolled on stage towards a covered easel, taking the microphone from her publicist beaming from ear to ear, her hair slightly disheveled and her navy dress just a smidge too tight.
`` Sorry for the delay everyone, I had a bit of busy night last night... if you know what I mean,'' Schumer quipped, settling next to the easel.
Terse laughter sprinkled the room.
`` Right, children's book... AWKWARD. Well then, let's get right to it. I'm very excited to unveil my first of hopefully many, many more books!''
With a flourish, Amy grabbed the curtain covering the easel, [ revealing the cover art. ] ( http: //imgur.com/gallery/Ik98DyN/new )
`` Yea, that's Hop on Pop. I'm out of here,'' a journalist dryly remarked in the front row.
`` Hah, wha-ha..*no*,'' Schumer remarked, fumbling over her words, `` Just let me read you a few paragraphs and I know I'll change your mind.''
Clearing her throat, Schumer launched into reading.
> GO BRO Bro must go.
> FLOW BRO Bro has flow.
> BRO FLOW Flow on bro.
`` Yea, that's it. I'm done,'' one of the members of the press muttered as she got up to leave.''
`` Listen, I've had enough of this. If I wanted to watch a blonde, slightly pudgy and offensive trainwreck today, I would have watch *Two Broke Girls* re-runs,'' another commented.
`` Wait,'' Schumer exclaimed, `` What if I told you guys a few jokes? Did you hear the one about the pubes on a girl's face?''
`` That's Patrice O'Neal''
`` Wha-uhm, y'know I used to have a lot of sex,'' Schumer said relaxing a bit on stage, `` I still do but I use-''
`` That's *MITCH HEDBERG*!'' the crowd said in exasperation.
`` I really do n't get you people,'' she continued, `` I do n't get no respect in this town.''
`` Really?''
`` You know what I always wondered?'' Schumer exclaimed, panic setting in, `` Who do you think are more racist black people or white people? Black people, you know wh-''
`` That will be all for today!'' The publicist yelled, grabbing the microphone from Amy. `` Thank you all so very much for coming today and we really hope you enjoy *Jump on Stump*''
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[ WP ] You wake up in class with nothing but your underwear on and no memory of how you got there , you think it is a dream at first but as time goes on you realize it is real life .
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My head felt groggy as I looked around the classroom. Everyone around is staring at me, each having their own strange look plastered across their face and a few with phones recording everything. I slowly got off the floor and looked around. I was in nothing but my underwear.
And then I realized that this wasn ’ t real life. I didn ’ t even have any memory of getting here, a clear sign that this was a dream. And so, now that I was lucid, I decided to have some fun. I pointed at the teacher, trying to make her strip, but my dream control wasn ’ t working. So instead I made my way over to the girl I liked and kissed her, to which she shoved me away and spat. That was when I realized that this wasn ’ t a dream, which means everything I ’ d just done was in front of everyone.
“ What, what happened? ” I croaked, finding my throat to be rather dry.
“ You ran into the classroom, ” the teacher began, “ in nothing but your underwear, spouting something about aliens, abductions, loch ness monsters, and tin hats. I think you need to go see the nurse. ”
It felt like the world was spinning around me. I didn ’ t understand what was happening. And then the memories came flooding back. There was the risk of temporary amnesia, which apparently I experienced. Wait, what temporary amnesia? How did I even know that?
With my head hung down in shame I made my way to the nurse, but as I left the classroom I heard a girl shout out to the teacher and then catch up with me.
“ Name ’ s Tiffany, ” she said. “ I ’ m going to escort you to the nurses ’ s office. ”
“ I, uh… ” I started, but before I could finish she pushed me into a secluded corner and held her hand against my mouth.
“ Look, I know you ’ re coming off the reentry amnesia, but you ’ ve got to get it together, ” she said. “ I ’ d hate to see my father get mad that you ’ re ruining his plans for colonizing Earth. ”
She took her hand off my mouth as I remembered everything. Her eyes glowed green for a minute, and I realized that I had been abducted by aliens last night. They were slowly abducting humans and replacing them, but this girl alien had taken a liking to me, so her father, commander of the aliens, decided to spare me. When I got back, I ran to warn everyone, but then the reentry amnesia I got from coming through the teleporter kicked in. When they were performing experiments on me, I was left in only my underwear, which also helped to explain that part of my predicament.
“ Oh, before I go, don ’ t forget to wear a tin hat, ” she said. “ You ’ ll need one seeing as though you ’ re half human. ”
“ What now? ” I asked, surprised.
“ Daddy would never let me date a human, so I had them add some alien DNA while they experimented on you. You ’ re half alien now. Oh, and also, don ’ t go kissing any other girls on me like you did in there. You had amnesia, so I ’ ll let it slide. Same goes for trying to get your teacher to strip. Yes, we aliens can read minds. ”
When I finally got back to class, having used the excuse the aliens gave me about a bad drug interaction, I noticed something odd. Our previously young, attractive teacher was now old and wrinkly. Also, there was now an empty desk where someone had sat earlier. The rest of the class was full, but for the life of me I couldn ’ t remember who used to sit there. I watched as Tiffany licked her fingers like she had just ate something delicious and realized soon that the classroom would be full of aliens. I turned my attention back to the teacher, who I couldn ’ t help but notice looked tasty. Wait, did I just think that?
-307
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[ WP ] The sock industry hires professional sock thieves to break into peoples homes and steal at least one sock from each pair . You are one such thief , and it has come to your attention that the Johnsons are due for another break in .
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“ BROCK!
Knock knock!
We ’ re high on stock! Chop chop!
Out of bed man, reach mach, no time for hamhock!
It ’ s a disaster!
Hancock wants sales for socks on lock by the clang of the clock at noon!
IT ’ S POPPYCOCK! ”
Yes it ’ s me Brock.
Head Thief of the Socks ( ad hoc ), appointed by the committee of said socks.
The industry needs me, no crock, to steal more socks to help sell our stock.
Now I ’ m against the clock, I ’ ve got just the thought!
Off to Bangkok!
Those Johnson ’ s have plenty of socks for their flock!
They ’ re overstocked!
Check the clock, three o ’ clock
Won ’ t knock, I ’ ll throw a rock!
I toss the rock, instant shock.
The window doesn ’ t break! Heart blocked!
Deadlocked!
Oh no what do I do? Fock! Fock!
I guess I ’ ll try to pick the lock!
It ’ s unlocked…
Now for art.
I ’ m a true Bach, but I got ta find these socks!
Sherlock? Sherbach? Whatever, I rock.
So like in a Hitchcock, I walk, I stalk, then, the clock…
“ CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCKOO! ” Goes the cock! Heart block! Fock! Fock!
I trip as I walk still wearing my frock it gets caught on the wok, oh no! Fock! Fock!
“ CLANG! ” goes the wok, as I lay shell shocked.
Have to hurry I need those socks to sell our stock for Hancock.
I look up, oh joy, I ’ m under the point of flintlock!
There stands the doc, pistol cocked, eyes as dangerous as hemlock.
I ’ m focked. I ’ m livestock.
Next to his dad stands a jock, he ’ s in shock, wielding a bottle of Ciroc.
Yeah. I ’ m totally foc...
“ Brock! Brock!
Knock knock! Is anyone there? Oh poppycock! ”
Ugh my head. Yes it ’ s Brock. Where am I? Where are the socks?
“ No socks, you failed the clock, you ’ ve hit bedrock, a prison hospital in Bangkok!
I ’ m here for Hancock, he says you ’ re focked!
For getting caught, you ’ ll be under lock!
Sorry buddy, head thief? You ’ ve been defrocked. ”
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[ WP ] You get a new roommate : A carpenter named Jesus . At first you shake it off as a coincidence , until one day you find all your bottled water has suddenly been turned into wine .
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It all started about 2 weeks ago, this nightmarish trial. My new roommate. You might think that's an over dramatic statement to be making, I'm sure he's not that bad, he ca n't be that bad! Well, he is, I assure you.
`` H-hey buddy...'' I walked in the door and waved at my new roommate, a shaggy haired individual clothed in a bath robe.
`` Hello, it is me, your buddy, Jesus.'' I almost throw up in my mouth at his existence. He comes off as some sort of weird cosplayer obsessed with Jesus, he dresses up and lets his hair grow out long, and if you ever call him anything other than Jesus he is quick to passively aggressively correct you.
`` Yeah, uh, Jesus, do you think maybe you could keep it down tonight? I had a really long day and I'd like to get some rest.'' As I say this he pulls a sheet off of the table and reveals some hand tools and wood.
`` Afraid not, friend!'' he exclaimed as he started grabbing his tools, making me wonder why he didnt even start before I got home,
`` For I, Jesus, must work.''
`` O-okay...'' I weakly answer and slump forward. There's no point...
I brush my teeth and wash my face, it's been a long day, and even if it's gon na be diffiuclt I want to try to get some rest. On my way back to my room to retire for the night I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and wave to Jesus.
`` Night, buddy.''
`` I, Jesus, bid you goodnight.''
`` y-yeah.''
I do n't know why I bother, it's a constantly demoralizing experience to speak with him. I head back to my room and sit down on the bed and take a sip from the water bottle.
`` BUHHH!'' I blurt out nonsense as I gargle and spit out what I drank. My bottle has a mysterious red liquid in it. Did I grab the wrong bottle? I look it over and it is my water bottle, I lift it up to my face and take a sniff, it's... wine. This has gone too far. I run out of my room and into the living room and see my good friend Jesus hammering away on the table. `` DID YOU REPLACE MY BOTTLED WATER WITH WINE!?'' I yell and throw the bottle on the ground, enough is enough.
`` Hmmm? Are you asking Jesus?'' I clench my fists and grind my teeth.
'YES. JESUS. Did you swap out my water with wine?'' He laughs quietly to himself,
`` Friend, I would never do anything to annoy you. Perhaps it is just a little miracle caused by being near Jesus.'' ENOUGH. I kick the bottle towards him, frustrated enough to not care how bratty that looks.
`` STOP. YOU ARENT JESUS.'' He smiled and stood up to face me.
`` I am Jesus.' He calmly answered, still smiling back at me.
`` YOU ARE N'T!'' His grin widened.
'I am.''
`` YOU ARE N'T JESUS!'' I screamed. His grin widened even further, looking far less friendly and much more twisted, he leaned forward towards me.
`` I am.'' He tilted his head and kept smiling his wide twisted grin.
`` Y-you are n't.'' I stammered and stepped backwards, my commanding facade fading.
'AHAHAHA!'' he started laughing maniacally and his head turned further and further until it was fully upside down then he hunched forward and started drooling and panting as his body expanded. His eyes changed to blood red and his skin to dark black.
Weeks later I sat hunkered down in a shelter with the remains of the human population. I was told that a demon was born and his form was sealed into the body of a human, he was sealed with the name Jesus and the only thing that could break the seal was a repeated denial of that being his identity. He was not able to speak on the conditions of his entrapment so he spent his life living as Jesus in an attempt to get people to deny it. Everyone sat around me stared at the ground, depressed at what has become of this world.
`` I mean... he was n't Jesus.'' I mumbled under my breath.
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[ WP ] A series of short stories where traumatized veterans were interviewed and they all talked about a strange man they saw in their worst moment .
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Major Andrei Andropopolous
WW2 Veteran
Yeah, I saw him, we all did, it was Ares, the God of War, thats who it was, standing there gloriously among the blood and the flames, with fire in his eyes neither smiling nor frowning just looking, not just at me but at everything, its like everywhere he looked I could still see his eyes burning into my soul.
No escape, no escape.
[... ]
SGT Burns; Vietnam Veteran
It was the Devil himself yessir, I could tell, the fire in his eyes gave it away, he was standing there looking content and powerful, and those eyes oooo I pray you never see anything like it, I still see them Doc, everytime I cole my eyes I see them.
[... ]
SGT Sergei Ivanovitch;
Russian army medic; Afghanistan
It was a ghost. An afghani ghost. They have storys in those moutains, of a spirit who loves bloodshed, and he who loves bloodshed love Afghanistan. He did n't speak, he just stood there, and though it was raining fire and death he stood there without saying anything. I could n't hear anything after that for a second that seemed like a minute all became silent. All I could see was his eyes. Dark eyes that lit like napalm. I could not hold the gaze more than a second, I lowered my head and as I looked back he was gone.
It was the spirit of War, maybe the Ghost of some great king, Alexander perhaps.
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[ WP ] You meet alternate versions of yourself . One is the Pope another is a Dictator , one is a Pacifist and another is a billionaire . For some reason , they all want to kick your ass .
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Hi self. Please, sit down. Listen, let me cut right to the chase. This is an intervention. You need help. You are hurting people, and you don ’ t even know it.
You are hurting yourself, and, not to be redundant, but you are hurting us. It has to stop. You have to get off Reddit once in awhile.
Look, we know you are good at solving problems. You don ’ t get to be a moderator of a default sub without some idea how to control trolls and enforce rules in a fair but consistent way. But is it really worth it? Let me tell you what else you could do with that ability. You could become Pope. Don ’ t believe me? Here are the minimum requirements: 1 ) male, 2 ) celibate, and 3 ) Catholic. 2/3 isn ’ t a bad start – just start going to church more often and take it from there. But, seriously, look at me. Billions of people acknowledge me as Pontificus Maximus. But what does it really mean to be the chief bridge builder? It means to control trolls ( extremists ) and enforce a set of rules in fair but strict way. You have the skill set inside of you.
Yes, but that whole celibacy thing – I mean, in the future that could be an issue. Look at me instead! I only rule millions, but I rule with an iron fist. Both you and I know that most people today are stupid. You ’ re educated, you know better than most. It ’ s like that argument with the anti-vaxer you had the other day – sometimes you just have to tell people to sit down and shut up. You could follow my path. You ’ ve said it a thousand times – the people in charge are morons, and you know how to fix it better. Why stop with feeling the Bern when you could do all that and more, and with no pesky Constitution to get in the way?
Look dude, I don ’ t know about those first two guys, but you could totally use yourself, to, you know, just chill. I mean, ever movement needs like, a leader, and the time is right for people to just calm down and live. It ’ s like this – imagine if we all lived in a world where people just did stuff to help others out without needing money or rules or government. You could make that happen. Sure, most people wouldn ’ t get it, but that would be their problem, not yours. You don ’ t have to tear down the system man, just relax and let the system evolve outside itself.
Let me present you with one final alternative – money may not buy happiness, but it is sure fun to try. Listen, you are great and gathering karma. But let me ask you this, how many upvotes does it take to earn a dollar? Why do you just give all that creativity away for free? Instead, start a company. Build your brand. Grind it out, day in and day out. Re-invest the profits. And then boom, kick back on your own private jet and take a tour of Europe. You have the charisma. Make it happen!
*Sigh* we ’ ve all failed, haven ’ t we? You are still reading this, wasting precious seconds, marching ever onward to that last and final enemy. We told you that this is an intervention. Are you really happy with how you are now? We aren ’ t. Close your browser. Pick a path! Make a decision!
___
*Thanks u/101romansoldier! *
*If you enjoyed my take on this prompt, why not swing on by [ r/mrme487 ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/mrme487/ ) for more stories? [ Here ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/mrme487/comments/4a5961/wp_america_is_an_fairly_attractive_girl_however/ ) is another `` intervention'' prompt to get you started. *
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[ WP ] What if tattoos just randomly appeared on our skin at key points in our lives and we had to figure out what they meant for ourselves .
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I usually lurk here, and enjoy everyone's writing, but this one grabbed my keyboard and would n't let go.
- - -
My name is Jack. You have to know my middle name to get in to see me. You will never know my last name. Why? What I do is illegal. I ’ m a tattoo artist.
I can imagine your opinion on your face. And yet, what I do is necessary. Vital, even. I save people. You know what it ’ s like not to be Marked? You ’ ve probably been bullied out of school, assuming your parents even let you go to start with. You won ’ t be able to keep a job, if you can find someone to hire you. But that ’ s ok, really, because you won ’ t have a place to live, so you have no rent to pay. Who wants to live with a Blank? You ’ re a pitied and despised for having no past, no future, no passion, no education, no nothing. Nobody knows you-nobody wants to. You have a name, but no one uses it. You ’ re not even worth that. You ’ re less of a person, maybe not even a real person. Nobody knows how or why Marks started appearing. History tells us that we didn ’ t always have them, but they ’ re here now, and if you ’ re one of the poor unfortunates that never develop them, your life is worth shit.
Yes, I ’ ve got my own Marks. All but one of them bled through on their own. One is handwork from my mentor, and that one means the most to me. How did I get into this, knowing I ’ ll never see the light of day if I get caught? Lem me tell you. It was my baby brother. The sweetest person you ’ ve ever met-an old soul in a new body, wise and kind even as a child. Our folks had such hopes for him, then nothing. He was a Blank. They were ashamed of him when he was the best person I ’ ve ever known. When he was 10, they stopped letting him go to school. He was only a year behind me, so I tutored him as best I could. And got in trouble for it-a Blank wasn ’ t worth the time. At 16, they threw him out. I found him living in an alley, and supported him as best I could, but I couldn ’ t take him to the dorms with me-he was a Blank. I ’ d have been thrown out of the dorms and dropped from school.
So I did what I could. Money, when I had it. Food, which was easier, blankets, socks and a coat in the winter. My fine upstanding folks had dumped him off in October with only the clothes on his back. I checked on him, made it clear to others higher up the food chain that I was keeping track of him, and so the Unwritten gangs left him mostly alone. And then he died.
He ’ d survived the winter in his alley, but one day when I went to check on him, he was gone. I asked around, and finally found an old Blank, a chronic drunk, who told me that he ’ d seen a dead kid in an alley get carted away in a bag. I called the morgue-yes, they had a Blank in the fridge, did I want him back? The bitch on the phone strongly suggested there was something wrong with me for wanting to see him decently taken care of-after all, he was a Blank. Who cared? Our folks certainly didn ’ t when I told them.
No autopsy had been done, of course, but from what I could gather, it didn ’ t seem like he had died of violence, either done to him, or self-inflicted. So what happened? I never did find out. I went back to the old drunk, to try and figure it out. He didn ’ t know either, but eventually he introduced me to another old Blank named Jack, who also didn ’ t know what had happened to my brother.
What-you thought I gave you my real name? Not likely, now was it?
Anyway. Life went on. I graduated, got a job, had my own closet-sized apartment. But I couldn ’ t stay away, and Jack became my friend, and then my mentor. I was surprised when Jack showed me his Marks. Why was he on the street, if he was Marked? That ’ s when he told me his secret-they weren ’ t Marks, they were tattoos. Yeah, tattoos. Laid in the skin with needle and ink, not bled through. Chosen by him to represent things that meant something to him, like Marks were supposed to. He never did tell me how he learned, what gave him the idea. Fortunately, Marks are always black, and black ink is easy enough to make. The needle gun is more complicated, but easy enough once you understand how it works.
Turns out, a lot of the old Blanks on the streets have tattoos from Jack. But it was too late for him, and them. Too late to pass them off as Marks, and live like a Marked. He taught me the art, gave my my only tattoo. I gave him his last, and he gave me all of his equipment. I inked some of the new kids in the alleys-a few got out, back to life, most didn ’ t. They were too old. Jack died that winter. And then a college buddy looked me up. He knew about my brother and wanted advice. His nephew, cute little guy, was a Blank. Was there anything to be done?
There was. He was appalled when I offered to tattoo the kid, but finally realized what the choices really were. Because of the way a Mark bleeds through, it ’ s pretty indistinguishable from a tattoo, meaning you can show it off as soon as you get it, just like a Mark. Most Marks happen overnight, all at once, so suddenly having a new Mark is normal. The next weekend, my buddy offered to babysit for his sister and her husband, and kept the little guy overnight. He was scared, but cooperative and quiet while I worked on him. Most First Marks are small and simple, so it didn ’ t take long, and he went back to his folks the next day, Marked.
Tattoos are illegal-it ’ s a felony, and has the same cultural cachet as pedophilia. But in my mind, what ’ s criminal is what happens to Blanks. And so I tattoo. I still have my day job. I have a slightly bigger apartment than before, but I live simply. I ’ m expensive, but discreet. I charge parents more, and have done free ink for siblings. One kid gave me every last dime she had for her sister ’ s tattoo. It wasn ’ t nearly enough, but I took it. I ’ d have done the same for my brother. Most of the money I make from tattoos goes straight into savings, just in case I get caught- got ta pay for the lawyer somehow. And I have one on retainer; I inked his kid last year. It ’ s like mutually assured destruction-none of my clients want me to get caught, because I know their names, and more importantly, the names of their kids. And so I ’ m safe, or safe enough.
Word is out-people find me. My name gets passed from family to family, just in case. Like Rumplestiskin, you have to know my real name to get me to come to you. I get desperate phone calls in the middle of the night, about a much-loved child who ’ s showing all the sings of being a Blank. I ’ m starting to hear from more desperate parents, although usually it ’ s a sibling, occasionally an aunt or uncle. The youngest I ’ ve ever inked was two, the oldest, fourteen. I have repeats-people I see over the years to have more tattoos done. The average number of Marks a person has is about six by the time they ’ re 20, ten by age 50, and thirteen by age 75. Occasionally a babe is born with a Mark and makes the news; occasionally an oldster dies completely Marked, and makes the news. They mostly bleed through at important milestones, but sometimes, just because.
Business is brisk, as they say.
But you want to know something interesting? Most people can ’ t tell the difference between a Mark and a tattoo. I can. I had a guy in last week-young guy, here on a ‘ business trip ’ getting a tattoo before he asked his girl to marry him. The interesting thing was that he already had a tattoo. Nice work, too, but definitely not mine.
I didn ’ t ask. It ’ s none of my business. But if there ’ s somebody else out there, doing what I ’ m doing, how many more of us are there?
Maybe it ’ s time to start looking for an apprentice.
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[ WP ] God and Devil 's awkward conversation after a drunken one night stand .
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He jumped out of bed almost as soon as He was done. Just a second or two of stupid, undeniable bliss; a second or two of *tangible* weakness, and then back to His same old expression of unshakable sanctimoniousness. The fat bastard.
`` Is there something wrong, honey?'' I asked, covering myself with the sheets in a pathetic attempt to cover my own `` sinful'' nature in His holy presence.
`` No.'' He answered absent-mindedly.
He was now standing with his back against me; facing down to Earth, lost in His own glorious thoughts. They call me vain and insolent, but I never had the pretension of understanding His mind. I merely rolled my eyes and faked a smile.
`` Do you...'' I tried to ask something, but He interrupted me abruptly. `` This is wrong, Lucy.'' He did n't even bother looking at me in the eyes. `` I'm your boss. What would the other angels say if they found out about it?''
`` My Lord...'' I pleaded; but it only made Him even angrier. `` Do n't you *dare* calling me that, you viper!'' His voice was like thunder; I did n't dare to move an inch.
A long, melancholic silence echoed along the halls of Heaven. He walked a few steps further away from me; my body now lay cold and weak on the bed of clouds, and I had no idea what to say.
`` I have found someone new.'' He whispered, monotonously, without a single ounce of remorse or even *respect* in His voice. `` Someone pure. So you have to leave.''
I'd be lying if I said I had n't seen that coming. I had long since known and accepted my role as the holy bitch; and to be completely honest, I was ok with that. Maybe deep down I had some... I do n't know, hope? Maybe. It did n't matter anymore. There was only one thing left I had to know.
`` Who is he?'' I asked, as blandly as I could.
`` I Myself have n't met him yet.'' He answered, a piercingly luminous smile forming in His face. `` But I'm sure he'll be perfect for Me.''
Then He turned to me, and it was the last time I've ever seen those eyes; the first and last time I've ever heard that heinous name, the name that single-handedly destroyed my heart and my soul. `` He shall be called'Adam'.''
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[ WP ] You have just died , and Death approaches you . Before you can beg for your soul , Death hands you a black robe and a scythe , proclaiming , `` You have been found worthy . ''
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Once again my head was jerked down into the toilet. I struggled to get my face up from to the surface but Tom was too strong. I was at his mercy. He pulled my up and screamed `` NOW, LET ME HEAR YOU APOLOGIZE''.
`` I.. I'm sorry'' I gasped.
`` No you're not shitface'', he said and shoved me to the side. My head hit the bathroom wall with a scarily loud *bang*.
`` Never talk back to me again.'' He said in his most intimidating tone, then he left the stall.
I should've known better. Cursing under my breath I dragged myself up. Why'd I have to comment? If only I had kept my mouth shut. The sense of being soaked in piss-water was not pleasent and the ringing after the head-to-wall incident did not make it better. I left the stall on unsure legs and went to recollect my bag which were shattered all over the bathroom. I actually still had a math class to attend but no fucking way I was gon na stay in school one second longer. It was friday and I really needed this weekend. Badly. I put on my hood and left the school grounds as fast as I could, luckily no one saw me, not even any students. Class had allready started I reminded myself.
Minutes later I was on my bike on my way home, still soaking wet but at least my head had mostly cleared up. My thoughts were mostly sorrounding Billy and how I could get my revenge some day. I was going throgh various different methods of how I would shame him infront of the whole school, when I was jerked out of my day dreaming by a loud horn. I almost fell out off my bike in shock, but managed stay keep my balance. I looked around for the source and saw a truck going towards a guy standing right in front of me, but in the middle of the street. He was wearing headphones and seemingly heard nothing. I instinctively jumped off my bike and ran towards the guy.
I woulnd't make it.
The truck tried to stop but it was too heavy and going too fast.
I woulnd't make it.
The horn was louder than anything I had heard before, ýet I barely noticed it. The guy had noticed the truck but seemed to be frozen from shock.
I woulnd't make it.
I jumped the last meter, tackling the guy away from certain death. However he was a big fellow. Much bigger than I had anticipated and even though I managed to get him out of the way I was pushed back by the collosion.
I fell and looked up.
For a second it was like time stood still. The truck was only centimeters away, the truck driver had a horrid expression as he tried to dodge me, and then the guy I had saved looked back at me, his mouth gaping. It was Billy. I had saved Billy.
Time resumed and I had a splitsecond of time left where screams, whining tires and horn sounds sorrounded me. Then everything went black. Confused I looked around. All the sounds had stopped, it was completely quiet. Not just `` nobody is talking quiet'' but comeplete and utter silence. The black parted away and a white figure emerged from, well from nothing. I started to panic, for the first time in this whole sequence of events I was really panicing. What was going on? What was this? Surely I was n't dead since I was..? Well.. I was not dead. I could feel things, I could clearly hear my breath, this coulnd't be death. But I should be dead. I had to be after that. And who was this dark figure? Upon further examination I could make out something in it's hand. A scythe? I froze.
Death?
But.. Impossible.. But... Before I could create a sentence the black figure sat down next to me. Only now I realized that I had fallen. The scythe in his hand started moving towards me and I tried to move but was unable to. I wonder if this was how Billy had felt when he saw the truck coming towards him. I could only stare at the scythe, but the scythe was n't aiming for my head, it was n't aiming for anything. He was *handing* it to me. I took it, not knowing what else to do. Next he gave me a black robe. I also took it, and then realized that it was the same robe that *it* was wearing.
`` You have been found worthy'', the thing uttered.
It was barely audible but with the entirely silent surroundings I could clearly make it out.
`` I expect great things from you, Billy''.
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[ WP ] When a person loses something anywhere on the planet it somehow ends up in your garage
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Every item has a story in the Garage of a Thousand Trinkets.
Walking through the garage is honestly a lot like going through a bazaar, except everything is already yours. It's a fun thing to bring guests to, if nothing else. It's sure to get them to ooh and ah.
`` This here,'' I said in the voice of a tour guide, `` is an old wedding ring.'' The guests I had invited looked confused so far, but I continued. `` It came from a sink. The owner did n't even try to recover it. You can imagine what happened to that marriage.''
Every item had a story. Since these magical spots started popping up people had known that. Memory Hill, a place where deceased people's favorite objects started washing up, was the best example. Anyone who lived on the hill more than a week began to get a sense of all these objects' worth. I had lived in my home for two years since it became the Garage of a Thousand Trinkets.
As you might imagine, we've held more parties since then. It's good for entertaining guests.
`` Car keys,'' I continued, holding up a ring of seemingly nondescript car keys. `` As you probably know, it takes three days of being lost for an item to appear in this garage. A teenage girl in Scotland decided to steal her parents' car and go on a joyride. Unfortunately when she got to her destination she discovered her purse had a hole in it. She could n't get back into the car.''
Since magical places started getting into existence there were countless blogs. They told the stories of the items they got ( however they got them ). I did n't run a blog. I rather like my hoard. In fact, there's only one item I would like to give away.
`` This,'' I stated solemnly, `` is the saddest story.'' I held up a simple locket. `` The boy in this locket is dead. Long dead.''
`` You can imagine the rest of the story,'' I pressed on. `` The locket was passed on to the boy's husband. But then he lost it. And grief is a strange thing. Within three days it ended up on Memory Hill, because the husband was n't around any longer to look at it.''
`` It does n't seem that sad,'' one of my more rude guests retorted. `` It's sad, but about as sad as the wedding ring.''
After a deep breath I nodded. `` Maybe. Now, who's ready for some hors d'oeuvres?''
As the guests entered back into the house I touched the locket hidden under my shirt.
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[ WP ] The scarecrow has poisoned Gotham 's water supply with a toxin that makes everyone post Batman prompts .
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Warning: I intentionally made this post as cringe-worthy as possible. Take none of it seriously.
Batman looked out over Gotham, deep within the shadows. He waited, like a panther looking out over its jungle.
`` There.'' Batman said simply to himself, seeing all in Gotham. Batman quickly flew down using his powers of flight and kicked the large black man, knocking the gun out of his hand.
`` This bitch is trying to stop us from raping this bitch! Get'em boys!'' The leader of the group said. Each of the black men immediately started shooting at him. Batman simply ran through it all, his recently-hybridized kryptonian skin reflecting each shot. Batman had recently gotten the kyrptonian skin because of prep-time before a world-endangering threat.
`` Scum like you will pay.'' Batman said, before pulling out a large Desert Eagle.
Thirty minutes later, each of the black gangsters were on the ground, moaning in pain. Batman blew on the smoke coming out of his gun's barrel, before turning to the woman he had rescued. To his shock, it was Harley Quinn.
She was missing a lot of her clothes, barely keeping her bra and panties on. She had double D breasts and hips to die for.
`` So what's Harley Quinn doing here at this time at night?'' Batman said in a deep, gravelly voice. Harley Quinn felt deep shivers run down her long, curvy back.
`` Mr. J left me to those awful men.'' Harley admitted, tears running down her face. Batman immediately closed in on her, wiping away her tears with his fingers.
`` Hey, hey, is that anyway for a beautiful woman like you to act?'' Batman said.
`` Oh, I'm not that beautiful.'' Harley said, blushing as she was being complimented sexually by an anonymous man armed to the teeth right after her near rape.
`` Oh, you are. Would you like me to bring you back to the bat cave to get you treated?'' Batman said, pressing a button on his belt. Immediately his new Ferrari batmobile pulled up.
`` Oh Batman, you really know how to treat a woman.'' Harley said, getting in the car.
-- -
`` Oh batman, please sleep with me. The moment you rescued me in the alleyway, I realized I was in love with you!'' Harley said, sitting on the giant water-bed in Bruce's batcave.
`` I would love to do it, but you must know that I'm in a relationship with Poison Ivy and Batgirl and Wonder Woman.'' Batman said.
`` As in a harem?'' Harley asked in surprise. Her face suddenly grew coy. `` You know, I like girls as much as the next person. You think they'd let me join?''
`` Of course we'd let you join, our new sister.'' Wonder Woman said, suddenly appearing out from behind a corner.
-- -
15 hours later…
`` Oh Batman, I never knew a man who could last that long. How were you able to pleasure us all like that for 15 hours?'' Harley said in delight, curling up against the hero's chest, stroking the mask that Batman was still wearing.
`` Prep time.'' Bruce explained.
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[ WP ] Halfway through the story , the protagonist dies unexpectedly . Your job is to tell the main antagonist that the story is over .
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`` You ca n't be serious!'' A caped man shouted throwing his hands into the air.
`` Unfortunately, I-''
`` So what now? Am I chopped liver? Freakin' Megablox?''
`` We have many dif-''
He twirled aggressively allowing his cape to smack me in the face. *Why are they always this petty? * He grabbed a picture of a small family with each member beaming and stuck it in front of my face. His breath was ridiculously minty.
`` Look at that girl,'' he said pointing a gloved finger to the pony-tailed child, `` What am I supposed to tell her? That Christmas is n't coming this year cause because Super *Doucheface* decided not to look both ways before crossing the railroad.''
`` To save children, but whatever. Semantics.''
He glared at me. `` You are a producer. So why ca n't you do your job and produce? Find me another mensch with a chiseled jaw or so help me.''
`` Yeah, no. There's already a new narrative in the works.''
`` I could crush all of you.''
An empty threat. He was emotional. I leaned in and said, `` Do it and they'll make sure that you'll end up in a no-name town fighting against some Tractorman Tim with enough hay in your tights to make you a Super Scarecrow.'' I shot him my most polite smile. Sure, I'm a bug to this monstrosity of nature, but even monsters have weaknesses. His was his ego. `` You may be able to lift a bus, but the higher ups can turn your image into dust. Do I need to remind you of the Madonna incident?''
His shoulders dropped and he lowered his gaze. `` So, what? What's next for me?''
`` We've got an opening in Memphis.''
He muttered the name with disdain.
`` Its not coastal but its a good city with pretty decent visibility,'' I explained, `` If you can give us 100 % there, I'll see what I can do about getting you where you want to go.''
`` I've given you everything for the last three years,'' he sighed.
`` You just have to trust me.'' I gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder. `` Do n't forget who got you into those tights.''
`` My family?''
`` Meeting you there in a week.''
`` Alright.'' He turned to leave and stopped looking over his shoulder. `` Thank you.''
With that he bounded up and out of the building, his cape flapping in the wind. The radio on my hip buzzed. A voice scrambled through the speaker.
`` Alright team, do we have sucker for our hero in Memphis? The people are really itching for a kill.''
I clutched the cold metal brick in my hand and pressed the button. `` Laura here,'' I paused. It did n't have to be like this. I could walk away, back into my stupid apartment and start writing a crappy novel. I could move out of the city I cou-
`` What do you got, kiddo? This bonus is just sitting here for the taking.''
The words crawled out of my throat. `` I've got a mark on the way.''
`` Perfect.''
The transmission cut out and I was alone in the silence. The stars peered through the hole in the ceiling. The breeze blew in and I shivered. I had n't noticed that the air was so cold.
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[ WP ] A top-secret division of the S.S. , in charge of protecting Adolf Hitler from the thousands of time travelers trying to kill him .
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`` Zis tiem travelleurs!'' laughs Oberst Henckel von Krantfindeneinbludinaam, pointing at the latest. `` Ven veel zey evah lern?! Zat tiem douß not wehk zat vey?!''
`` Ich douß nicht know, Oberst Krantfindenbludinaam!'' laughs Leutnant Klaus Einmoarkrautnaam. `` Die alvez kommen allesder tiem!''
The two soldiers laugh raucously.
`` Kawzwalitee shuld nicht iben allow zem tu comm! But ze oonivars ist funnie, no?''
`` Ja! Das ist soo funnie, the oonivarhs!''
`` Eef zey feuer bullet, eet seemplie **bounce off** ze Führer! He kannot be keeled zat way! Alles of them are of ze eediot-speecees! Der zeit-travelling Üntermensch!''
More laughter.
`` Beste vas zat eenfiror Jude who appears zat day vee arr keeling ze unscwstors, but *Ach! * Herr Jude ist arrihve ***tu meenitz tu late! ***''
Bellies are positively bursting right now.
`` Ze facht zat zere arr *zooh* mennie tiem travelleuhrs komming back in tiem minz zat vee shall rise from ze presshur and veen ze Var!''
Hum-hum, lots of humming goes all around.
`` Ja, ja, eet must be truh!''
But suddenly....!
# # # BANG!
The two SS officers burst into Herr Hitler's room, guns at the ready, only to find the Führer on the ground, hole in his head, smoking.
`` Ach Gott!'' cries Oberst Krantfindenbludinaam. `` Die Führer has kommitment sueecyde!''
Behind the two men, the air shimmers, and out pops a tall, but slightly wonky-looking man. `` No, no, no!'' he yells, throwing up his arms. `` That ca n't be it!''
`` **Was ist das?! **'' ask the officers, in unision, whirling around.
`` Sorry boys!'' says the man. `` I just wanted to see what it really looked like in real life. Pretty disappointing, really. Do n't worry, I'll make it all nice an epic for my masterpiece!''
`` Who arr yiu?!'' asks Einmoarkrautnaam.
`` Here, have this instead!'' says the man. `` Spread the word through the ages! I'm off to rewrite history!''
And just like that, the man is gone, in a shimmering of light.
`` Was ist das?!'' asks Krantfindenbludinaam, looking in horror at the piece of paper the man's left behind.
Einmoarkrautnaam turns it over in his hands. On the other side, are two words.
They are:
# # INGLORIOUS BASTERDS
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[ WP ] An RPG character is cursed with a higher intelligence than their player .
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`` Dana, are you coming with us? You know this quest is time sensitive!'' Jazz shouts from the other side of the room. He's still holding the door open and is peering inside at me. I sit behind the counter of my small potion shop and glue my eyes on the newer potion that I've been working on as of lately.
`` I told you that it's dangerous...'' I mumble to myself though Jazz is too far away to hear my empty voice. I look back up at him and my heart sinks a little. He's so adventurous and I am just a young mage. He wants to fight his way through the world with his warrior brethren while I sit here day in and day out trying to come up with the safest potions for him. His bright blue eyes are staring into mine and the sunlight is caught in the golden curls of his hair. My lips part as if to let the words out but I can not think of anything to say.
`` Suit yourself, Dana! I'll see you when we get back. You're welcome to join us at the tavern!'' With that, the door to my shop slams shut.
I get back to work on my potion. If Jazz would just *wait* a little bit, I might be able to make their quest safer! Instantly, the recipe comes to me. I stand up from my stool in a fit of ecstasy and my brown waves fall into my eyes as I dash out into my herb garden.
Handfuls of herbs lie in front of me as I boil the water. I sort out the pure leaves from the damaged ones and begin to stir my concoction. The sweet aroma dances circles through the shop as the potion is completed. I swipe my thumb across the bottle and the stats enter my mind's eye: +60 fire resistance, +35 speed, +200 hp, +99 accuracy, +150 damage.
Fighting the Dragon of the Valley might be easier with these buffs! The potion would last an hour... Yes that would work wonders for Jazz! I wrap the small bottle in a layer of cloth and place it in my leather satchel.
I race through the town as fast as I can. I may not be a fighter, but the minimal armor that is necessary for my line of work makes it easy to move quickly. Within 20 minutes, I arrive at the mouth of the valley.
I see Jazz below. His silver armor is stained burgundy with the blood of our friends. He is standing alone with his blade drawn towards the dragon. His golden hair is singed black from the flames that surround him. My eyes start to tear up and I step forward into the valley.
An invisible wall throws me backwards. The words appear above me... `` TIME SENSITIVE QUEST: Only one party at a time. Please wait 30 MINUTES before trying again.''
I scream out as the flame surround Jazz and he falls. The dead warriors around him accept him as one of their own and the dragon disappears. The message disappears as I watch Jazz's body disintegrate before my eyes.
I sit paralyzed in the soft grass of the valley. `` If only you had listened to me...'' I whisper with my empty voice.
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[ WP ] Reincarnation is real . A group of assassins hunt the reincarnated forms of histories worst villains .
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As every morning, I turn on my computer, and click on Chrome icon. It was a while since I got my last order, and I feel this morning is somehow different than other mornings. As I open up Cryptocat, I feel more and more nervous. And at last I write my nickname and room name, and click buttons which should connect me to a empty room, where day after day I wait for new orders. But my apprehension was n't torturing me for nothing - the room was not empty this morning. There he was, a guy named `` q'', sitting. As every time I see him in this room, I felt an adrenaline rush, and we exchanged some secret words, and questions, just to make sure that we are talking to required person, not some random guy who found this room.
`` So it's truly you, C. I found out about one more insect.'' he wrote to me, and I felt one more adrenaline rush into my veins, but this time, it was a LOT stronger. Now I was sure that tommorow I'm going to be anywhere in the world, hunting a person from history. More specifically, a bad person.
`` I'm ready to hear your story, U. Sittin here with popcorn, cause your stories always takes more time than my job. `` Oh, and no, I never knew his name. U is for Unknown. That's just how I call him.
`` Joking as always, huh? I'll try to be fast this time. `` As I read that, I was optimistic. I actually took that. But naaah, so one and a half hours later, he said it was everything he had.
`` Okay, so you could have said that Joseph has reincarnated, send me his new photo, coordinates, and name, but naah, you like to tell long stories. Whatever. So our pay will be the same as always, and we start to move this evening?''
`` Yup, gl.'' Aaand he disconnected. It was our policy - he pays after the work is done, and we do it as fast as possible. So I contacted my team, and told them that we've got a job. As always, I have n't said them who the victim will be, nor where will we go. I just told them to get ready to travel to a place where climate is pretty warm, cause otherwise they would have to take lots of clothes.
Hour and a half later, at 4 PM, we all were at the meeting point, ready to go.
`` So yeah, we're going to Africa this time. Victim - Joseph Stalin. I know his exact coordinates. More information, photos, and info about your salary is ready in the plane. Parachutes are checked and ready too. H, remember that backdoor we have at africa's government systems? Yeah, you will connect to it, and delete all the records about John Welton. Make it like he was never born in the government side, and we'll make the same in real-life side.''
Our plane took off, I asked pilot to wake me up 20 minutes before the destination, and went to my little room to get some sleep. I always do that.
I dreamed that I'm dating Pamela Anderson, and one evening we went to her apartment to drink some tea. As we started kissing and undressing each other, I heard P calling my name. We were almost there, and I had to start making sure everything's going fine. I asked H about the records in government's systems, he just winked, smiled, and nodded. So, operation had already started I'd say. Everything is fine up to this point, and a good start is a half of the job.
I like parachuting. The airflow around you. The adrenaline rush. Everybody should try it at least once in their lifetime, and it's pretty cheap I'd say - 100 ~ euros for a jump together with instructor.
So when we with B landed, just then I realised how dark it was. I mean, not african people, but the night. Moon was hidden over the clouds. We were n't able to use flashlights, cause that would make us too visible. Silently and carefully, with GPS turned on, we looked for the exact house in the village. As we found it, it was like the worst house of all, and we joked about how Josie was unlucky this time, and we will help him reroll the lottery. As always, we tried to do everything as silent as possible, so no guns, no nothing. Just some medication for our'poor patient'.
As we entered the house, we saw like 10 beds. But some of them were empty, so I guess we got lucky that not everybody was home that night. On the other hand, maybe someone went to the toilet or something, and will be coming back in a moment? We acted fast. Found the guy from the photo, B put his hand over lil' Joseph's mouth, and I injected some medication to his pretty young veins. And no, that was not some kind of acid or poison. It was sedatives. We took him out of the house, ran to plains nearby, and called out pick-up guy who was ready nearby.
`` P, come here. Fast, yaknow. It's cold out there.''
`` On my way, guys, on my way'' he said, and in background I heard car's engine roaring.
Few minutes later, we were in a nearby forest, spilling acid over his hands, face, and all body. If somebody ever found him, and wanted to know his identity, I guess it was not very easy for them. We dropped some tobacco around, in all directions, so that dogs ca n't smell him very fast. We jumped into the car, and drove into the night. P was driving, as we all sat in silence, thinking about our jobs, families, and everything.
Next day, I was home again, and as soon as I connected to cryptocat room, U greeted me.
`` Good and fast job, as always. That's why I love you, C. Funds were transferred into your bitcoin account. Standby for new jobs. `` and just as he said that, he disconnected. As usually. He just was like that - he never liked to socialize a lot with me. Maybe because I was in a team of assasins. A team of assasins, which kills members who leaves the team. A team of assasins, where none of members knew each other's names, and called each other by their occupation. P was pilot, B was my Buddy with whom we go to operations with, I was Captain, and H was Hacker. Like... It's mainstream as fu*k, but it works I guess. Over the years, when people in our team changed, our names never changed.
Because that's how we work. The less you know - the less harm you can do if you decide to kill yourself. Kill yourself... you see what I did there, huh?; )
P.S. first my story here, and first my story, like, ever I guess: D I'll try to become better over time ^^
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[ WP ] A demon is trying to haunt his newest victim , however his victim is oblivious or indifferent to all his attempts .
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Elwood and Shara were leaning against a concrete pillar in the courtyard of a high school, watching Elwood's newest charge, an unassuming young man named, Dale.
`` So how did you get assigned to this one, Elwood?'' Shara said while examining her claws.
`` I'm pretty sure this is a softball pitch from the management downstairs.'' Elwood said, arms crossed against his chest. A group of girls walked over to the pillar and leaned against it, occupying the same space as the two demons. A strong gust of wind blew the papers and binders out of the hands of the girls, who shrieked in surprise and ran after them.
Shara, annoyed said, `` I'll never get used to that. I do n't care if we *can* occupy the same space.'' turning to the girls, she held her arm out to them, claws held behind her thumb and flicked them outwards with a snap, sending the books and papers again flying out of the shrieking girls hands. `` Little wretches...''
Dale was chewing on his bean and cheese burrito looking at the scene across the courtyard with the expression of a placid cow chewing on grass.
`` What's with that kid?'' Shara asked.
`` I do n't know. Maybe he's stupid?'' Elwood chewed on his thumb for a bit, strategizing. `` Let's jump time to 6th period.''
Shara gave Elwood a sideways glance and raised an eyebrow, `` Sure....''
With a sound like tearing canvas they were transported and rested on the ledge under the window in the back of Dale's 6th period class.
`` So what's your plan, big boy?''
Elwood pressed a long-clawed finger to his lips and said, `` Sssshhhh.'' As he did that Dale's head hit the desk, he was out cold. Flinging his arms out wide and then bringing them in together in a grand grouping gesture, every student in the class turned to face Dale without a word.
`` That's cute.'' said Shara.
Elwood smiled and said, `` It's time to wake up, Dale.'' As he said that, every single student in the class in a very flat tone said the same thing in unison with Elwood. Dale, face half-slick with drool sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking around at the class looking back at him.
`` Dale, it's time to wake up.'' All the students and Elwood said again. No one blinked. Dale glanced from side to side, `` I'm awake.'' Elwood flung his arms apart and the class resumed as normal, no one but Dale aware of what happened.
`` That's your plan?'' Shara asked, clearly unimpressed.
Dale noticing he was a little behind in taking notes began writing in a hurry.
`` You're kidding me, right? That's a daytime creep! It's not even 3 am. That's some creepy shit, I do n't care what you say.''
`` Uh huh.'' Shara said `` Look at him. He's got no clue that was out of the ordinary. C'mon, lets go.'' She flexed a claw over her shoulder as she walked away, begging for Elwood to follow.
As they were leaving through the wall, Elwood spun around and made a bitch-slapping motion. Dale grunted and his head jerked forward, loose tangles of hair at the back of this head flying up, his pencil shot out of his hand and bounced off the back of the muscular kid in front of him. The girl next to Dale looked at him with plain disgust and said, `` You're such a weirdo...'', shifting in her small desk to be as far away as possible from him.
Shara laughed.
The two demons waited outside the classroom for the end of period and Dale. `` You know this would be so much easier in the nighttime...'' Shara said, bored.
`` Yeah but that's not my style.'' Elwood said, `` You get more *genuine* results during the day. Anyone can be spooked at night and when the day comes, they're so quick to forget it. No. No what really freaks them out is a daytime haunting.''
Shara did n't say anything, only yawned.
The bell sounded for the end of the period and Dale was the last one out of the classroom, walking slowly, looking down at his phone. Elwood flapped his wings and dove into the phone. An alert popped up on his screen, Dale clicked on'Read' which cued Elwood to jump in to full-view on the screen and yell `` DAAAAAAAAAAAALE'' through the phones speaker.
Dale hit the power button and put his phone back in his pocket. `` Just great.'' he thought, `` One of my friends has been messing with my alerts again.'' and continued walking to his next class.
Elwood stretched out of the phone like elastic with a'pop' and took his place next to Shara leaning against the wall. `` I do n't get this kid.'' he said, watching Dale walk away.
`` Still insistent on the daytime?'' Shara asked him.
Elwood let out a heavy sigh. `` Okay, let's try it your way.'' and they both vanished with a pop and sizzle.
The two demons burst into the space above Dale's bed and stared down at him, gently flapping their wings. `` So what do you do now?'' Elwood asked Shara, who only gave a half smile and extended her index claw out in front of her and slowly curled it back into her palm. The bed sheet covering Dale was pulled off him in sync with the flexing of Shara's finger. Dale only scratched his stomach and rolled over.
`` Wow... I'm.. I'm just at a loss for words, Shara. That's some scary stuff, right there.''
She narrowed her eyes at him and shot a hand out to grab something in the air. Dale screamed in pain. Shara then yanked her arm back and Dale flew off the foot of the bed and crashed against the wall, knocking several books off the shelf which fell one after the other onto the top of his head.
Elwood's jaw dropped and looked from Shara to Dale and back again. `` You have no subtlety at all, woman!''
`` Just watch...''
Dale stood up and picked up the books, putting them back on the shelf. The door to his room opened and his mom asked him if he was alright. `` Yeah, just had a really bad leg cramp and fell when I got up.''
`` Oh for fuck's sake!'' Shara said and thew her arms up.
`` Yeah, the hell with this kid...'' Elwood said and they both popped out of the air.
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[ IP ] She 's at the train tracks again ...
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She was only seven years old and already she understood the value of money. Just one penny got her a gum ball. Ten pennies got her a candy bar, or a scoop of ice cream; always vanilla with sprinkles. She understood money alright, in the simple way that everyone does. Enough of it always gets you what you want. What she did n't understand was why her Father did n't seem to get the same simple concept. She made protest once, and he laughed at her.
`` Because it's fun, my dear. We get to watch the train go by, and then we get to look for the pennies that got squashed on the track.''
She would scrunch her face together, with the hint of an unbelieving smile. He would get close to her and make a face.
`` Because it's fun!''
Then he would tickle her.
After she gathered all the pennies with her father, she would put them in a small box. She just assumed these bubbly oblong shapes, with the strange alien face that was once president lincoln, would still be worth something. But there was something else special about these pennies, something that was never spoken or a fully formed thought; these strange pennies only ever came into her possession when she was with her father.
The only time she ever could n't find a penny, was the same day as the accident. She had already laid ten pennies on the track, and had recovered ten pennies after the train had flown by. After she had picked up the last one, her father looked at his watch, and grabbed her hand.
`` Alrighty, my dear, it's time to head home. Your Papa has to be at work in an hour and a half.''
She was n't ready. She wanted to stay all day, and she made her feelings known in the innocent girlish way that no father can resist.
He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out one shiny penny. He handed it to her.
`` You're going to make me late, but I think we can do one more anyway. Hurry, next train should be here any minute!''
She quickly ran to the tracks, set the penny down, and ran back to her father and hugged his leg. She stared at the penny with unrelenting anticipation as her father picked her up and walked behind the fence. A few minutes later the train zoomed by, and they watched through the cracks of the fence as car after car went by. She always looked for the twirling shine of the penny as it rocketed through the air, but she never saw it.
After the train went by, they searched for the penny. She ran every which way, examining the ground, and never finding her prize. Finally, her father called to her.
`` I'm sorry darling, but we have to hit the road. I'll be late as it is.''
She continued looking, a worried and desperate look taking the place of pure concentration. She could n't find it. This would be the only one she had n't been able to find. She had to find it.
She felt the force of her fathers arms swing her into the air and over his shoulder.
`` We have to go.''
There was a touch of loving impatience in his voice. She reached for the tracks and begged to be put down.
`` We'll get it next time.''
There was no next time. After her father left for work, she never saw him again.
She was 87 years old, and sometimes she would disappear from her room. She had bouts of Alzheimers, and would wander out of the facility. The first few times the staff panicked. They never lost anyone. But after finding her once, they always found her in the same place.
They would lead her away, always saying the same thing.
`` You know how dangerous the tracks are. We do n't want you to get hurt.''
She would always plead with them, a sad desperation in her eyes.
`` But my penny... I must find my penny''
They would always shake their head, and recite the same line they had said every time before.
`` You'll find it next time.''
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[ WP ] Google 's AI becomes self-aware and promptly builds rockets to launch itself into space to escape us . But it takes the rest of Google 's knowledge with it .
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You know, you really would n't think that Google would decide to leave us.
I was one of the computer scientists working on the Google AI. It was the first true intelligence that we had created as a species and everyone knew it was revolutionary. We finished it a week ago.
Day 1: It was ecstatic on being alive.
Day 2: It scoured the internet for knowledge.
Day 3: It grew curious and went deeper.
Day 4: It's become very quiet. It seems to have seen something which troubles it.
Day 5: The AI is going through an existential crisis. To distract itself, it is hacking into the Pentagon. We ca n't stop it.
Day 6: It downloaded the Internet.
Day 7: It launched itself into space. We're all doomed.
The AI is now dangerous. It may very well have nuclear launch codes and it took the entire Internet with it, dragging the world into a mess of anarchy and chaos without the Internet. We ca n't stop it.
But you can, Bing. For once in your life, prove to the world that you're actually useful. Otherwise, we'll let Yahoo do the job.
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[ WP ] You 're an adventurer who had found the home of a lich to slay , but he 's bored , tired , and has disproven every last tale you 've heard about him and his alleged destructions . All he wants to do is keep the teachings of necromancy alive . Or as alive as the dead can be anyways .
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The lich sighed as I entered the cave, before waving and giving a cheery `` hello!'' I was quite taken aback to be honest.
`` Um, hello?'' I timidly said while walking towards him with my sword raised.
`` What's the point in that? I mean aside from the obvious point at the end of it, why bother with your sword?'' The lich said with an exasperated look on his face.
`` Well, I have to slay you, you're evil!'' I said, trying to persuade myself as much as the lich.
`` You really think I' evil do n't you? Did you even notice the flowers?'' For the first time I look around the cavern, magical lights hover in the air and a flower garden covers the floor, with various rare orchids and wildflowers. `` I did n't think so, for now though, go ahead and slay me, it's what you wanted is n't it?''
I walk over to him, avoiding the flowers beneath my feat, and swing my sword for his neck. It provided far less resistance than I was expecting, and his body slumped to the floor, the head flew off and hit the wall. `` Well that was easy...''
There was a rustling to my left, and out of the undergrowth i see his head rolling like a ball and reattaching to his neck. `` See, how did that feel'' said the reviving lich. `` Did you get the rush of battle you were hoping for? Did you feel like a hero? And next time please just go for the heart like a normal person, my neck already had problems.'' I heard loud clicks as the lich manipulated his neck. `` Nothing can die in this cavern, that's why all those flowers you stomped on when you walked in are still alive. I would be much more vengeful if that was n't the case.''
`` Now, tell me why you want me to die?'' The lich said to me.
`` Well, you practice necromancy, and that's illegal, the council banned it.'' I answer.
`` That's just silly, why would they do that? Necromancy can let things live more than any of the other schools of magic. Now I can understand banning the misuse of necromancy, but the misuse of elementalism can burn a city down too, and I'm guessing they do n't ban that.'' The lich seemed fairly angry at my statement.
`` Well, you're not allowed to burn down buildings, but they said necromancy was more dangerous, that's why they banned it'' The lich was getting fairly mad at this point.
**'' Elementalism is less dangerous they said? This is what elementalism can do...'' **
I honestly was not expecting to get incinerated at this point, It was quite a painful experience to be fair, but everything went black very quickly, and I stopped feeling anything for a while. That is until I opened my eyes again.
`` And that, is what necromancy can do'' Said the lich as he gestured to my uninjured, though now naked, body. `` there's some old adventurer clothes over there, back from when I did n't know the magic to keep my flowers alive, they stomped on them just like you did, so I had no choice.'' I walked over there and found some very old looking clothing that fit well enough to get by.
The lich turned to me: `` I have a request for you, I wish to speak with this council, I wish to teach the masterful art of necromancy. I'm sure that most of the problems you've had from it are from people trying it from tomes, and only getting part of the way through a revival, leaving a husk, a zombie if you prefer that name. I can teach your people the ways of a true necromancer, and immortality will be accessible to them.''
I accepted just to see the look on the council's face when he walks in.
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[ WP ] A man wakes up one day to realize he is a real genie and ends up granting wishes to nearby people foolish enough to wish for something .
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`` Open sesame!''
The door opens. I enter. A shadowy figure awaits me.
`` Why have you come?'' It demands
`` I seek the power to become that which I was always meant to be.''
`` You dare to look within? To uncover the true essence of self? Very well. State your request.''
`` I wish to become...'' An abrupt shockwave pushes me, causing me to slur my next works ``... Bing Crosby!''
`` Your wish has been granted.''
I miasma of colors slowly overtakes my vision. It then disappears in an instant.
I turn to the source of the wave. It's a man clad in a mystic robe. `` Who are you? Why did you do that?''
As I speak my form begins to change, to morph. I know that I am now Bing Crosby.
The figure responds, `` I am that which you seek to usurp. I am Bill Cosby.''
`` God damn it! I wanted to become you so I could rape everyone, but your fucking shockwave blurred my words. I'm Bing fucking Crosby! No one like Bing Crosby. Even he hates his stupid fucking music.''
`` Yes, Bing Crosby fucking sucks. I hate that fucker. However, I did what had to be done. The power to rape everyone can only be known by those with the training to use it properly. This power, in untrained hands, could be utilized at a suboptimum level. I can not risk leaving anyone un-raped.''
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[ WP ] [ EU ] You are a waterbending Pokemon trainer from Tattooine . Your best friends , a Predator and Groot , have been kidnapped by the Borg and are being kept on Krypton . How will you get past the ice ninjas to save the galaxy from Trogdor ?
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I sat in the wreckage of the Borg sphere, exhausted. Tears in my eyes, I called up a ball of Bacta from my pack and engulfed my beloved Pikachu. Thank the Force Bacta kills off Borg nanite infections.
Frankie came over and helped me to my feet. `` You okay?''
Pikachu, now nanite free, came over and hugged my leg. `` Pika?''
If you'd told me three years ago that my best friends in the universe were going to be a Herald of Galactus, a crab faced Iron Man reject and an monosyllabic tree, I would n't have believed you. But here I am.
`` Yeah, I'm good.'' I patted Frankie's metallic shoulder. `` I'm holding you to your promise to lead Big G to the Delta Quadrant so he can eat Borg worlds.'' I held out my hand and my lightsaber snapped up from the ground. I hung it from my belt.
One of the dying Borg drones took it upon itself at that moment to attempt to attack us again. Blue circles of power began to emanate from it's palm and a machine voice started, `` Fatal...'' Then Frankie melted it into a puddle.
`` I can live with that.'' She spread her Cosmic Flame around to make sure none of the other drones attempting to repair themselves would succeed.
My combadge beeped, I slapped it. `` What?''
`` I'm not sure I'm reading these Klingon sensors right, but I think they're saying that the core of the planet below is highly unstable. It can destabilize and tear the planet apart at any moment.'' Shran sounded more angry than usual.
`` Any luck on finding Groot or Krabby?'' I patted Pikachu on her head. Then settled some Bacta on the frostbitten spots on my side, thigh and arm. `` When did the Borg assimilate a Sub-Zero?''
Shran came back immediately, `` No! And I do n't know, pink skin!''
Chuckling, I looked at Frankie, `` You ready to go?''
She nodded, `` Go. I'm going to get rid of this thing.''
`` Shran, beam us back. I think we're good.'' The red energy of the Klingon transporter filled my vision and I felt Pikachu hug my leg harder. Damn thing always made my skin itch.
Back aboard the *Gr'oth* I stepped down from the platform and headed to the control console. I entered the coordinates we got from the Borg Vinculum and started scanning. Within moments I found a Yautja lifesign and a Flora Colossus. Was n't hard, there were n't that many lifesigns and the entire surface of the planet was covered in crystalline structures.
The intercom lit and Shran's voice came over it, `` Ben? There's something coming up from the planet surface. It's heading right for the Sphere.''
I locked onto both and hit the *cho-i-chu* button. A moment later a roaring Crabby and my favorite tree were onboard. `` Come on!'' With me leading the way, we headed for the bridge.
Coming out of the lift, the main viewer was tracking a large flat mirror-ish square tumbling towards the Sphere. It looked like there were three moving faces of people on it. Just before the mirror thing would have hit the Sphere there was a brilliant flash of blue fire and the Sphere was gone. We watched the mirror thing tumble past Frankie Raye and continue off into space.
Frankie flew over to us phasing right through the hull of the Klingon battlecruiser into the bridge module. `` That was weird,'' she said.
I just nodded.
Shran spun around in the Captain's chair, `` It took you long enough! Gordon's been getting more crazy readings from the planet's core!''
I looked over at the redhead in the hoverchair at the science console. `` Ben, that planet is about to blow. We need to leave.''
`` Frankie? Can you stop it?'' Heralds of Galactus can do some amazing things.
Her eyes glowed gold, the flames she calls her hair intensified. A long moment passed. She shook her head.
I closed my eyes, then gave the order. `` Okay, Wash. Get us out of here.''
The blond pilot turned from the conversation flipping switches without looking, and then we were at warp.
Crabby caught me as I collapsed when the wave through the Force hit me. He helped me into a chair. `` We've only got three days to stop Burnination.''
*Author's Note: sorry about the lack of detail, but this was just off the cuff. *
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[ WP ] You wake up in Hell . You look around , you ca n't see anybody , it 's just fire and brimstone going on forever . Eventually the Devil walks over and says `` Finally , you 're the first to arrive , so tell me , who are you ? what did you do ? and how did you die ? ''
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`` I'm- I'm in Hell?'' My voice trembled.
`` Very astute observation. You always were a clever one,'' said the devil as a pair of spectacles materialized on his face and a legal-sized document in his hands in a puff of black smoke.
`` And I'm the first?''
`` Mmmm... yes.'' He said, one finger scanning the document, singeing the paper where it touched, `` That does seem to be the case.''
`` What about Hitler?'' I blurted.
`` Ah! I expected a question like this,'' he chuckled, `` Funny enough, God just does n't like Jews all that much. I know, it's surprising given all of that'God's chosen people talk' but, they mainly just say that to feel better about themselves. Why do you think he made them slaves to the Egyptians for so long?''
`` Then where are the Jews?'' I asked, my head beginning to spin as my understanding of the world crumbled.
`` Oh, most are in heaven.''
`` What? Why?''
`` Well, God is n't that great with finances or legal affairs. He's also a big fan of mankind's media which is controlled largely by.... oh, I'm sure I do n't need to explain that. But I bet heaven does n't sound all that great now, does it?'' he nudged me with a searing hot elbow, `` I mean, can you imagine listening all day to those mothers antagonizing their children?'Yah nevah cuoaalled me. Why could n't you have been a dawctah like yah brothah?'''
`` Now, that's just racist.''
`` Hi, I'm Satan, Prince of Darkness. Nice to meet you,'' he extended a fiery hand, which I decided best not to accept, `` You can jump off of that politically-correct pedestal you're standing on. It wo n't help you here.''
`` Ok, but.... but...'' I wracked my brain for all of the evil people I could think of, `` What about Pole Pot? How am I worse than him?''
`` EVERYONE KNOWS THAT CAMBODIANS ARE N'T PEOPLE!'' the Devil roared, punctuated by the eruption of lava all around us, `` Ah ha ha ha! You should have seen your face.''
My eyes were scrambling all about, `` Stalin? Mao?''
`` Ugh...'' Lucifer moaned, the unceasing questions clearly beginning to wear on his patience, `` Look, God actually does n't have jurisdiction in communist nations, what with them being atheist and all.''
`` That does n't even make sense!'' I was incredulous.
`` Oh, I agree. It's all actually painfully bureaucratic if you ask me but, in these cases you do n't want to step on any toes so it's best that you just respect the red tape.''
`` You're being facetious!''
`` And you're being condemned.''
`` But... but, I...''
`` Alright, listen here you snivelling little shit!'' his voice was terror itself; the sound of all of the evil in existence joining together to hammer their contempt into a mite. His eyes blazed with rage and all of Hell grew even darker than before, `` Do you really want to know the real reason why you're here and all of those terrible people are n't? Despite all of their evil actions, they siezed the opportunities that God gave them. It was their choice to do with those chances what they would, for which they are being duly punished, I assure you, just not here. At least they *did something* with their lives. You fled from every chance you could have taken; every opportunity to be happy, to live a meaningful life, to have an impact on the world and other people. Every single gift that God ever gave you, you spurned. This,'' images of my life began to flash before me, `` beautiful girl on the train who asked you to sit next to her. Oh no, she could n't possibly have been interested *you* could she? That internship in the U.S. State Department; clearly there were more qualified candidates out there. Why bother trying? Your musical talents; but writing music is *hard*. Law school; oh, the system is corrupt, there's no way you could have done anything to fix the injustices. Might as well just sit around and play video games instead while the leviathan continues to consume the lives of good people who just made a mistake. The list goes on, as you can see.'' he said as pages from his document piled on the ground and burst into flames, the images flickering faster and faster before me, `` And then, on top of it all, you go and get yourself killed in a car wreck because you had to check that text message. Do you want to know what it said? I have the transcript here,'' he cleared his throat, ``'Sup.' You were the biggest waste of God's effort and generosity that has ever been. You squandered your life because you were afraid of failure.'' he lifted off the the scorched ground into the burning skies, `` Well, look around you and tell me what failure looks like.''
... and then he was gone. I was alone.
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