prompt
stringlengths 5
331
| story
stringlengths 404
40.3k
|
|---|---|
[ WP ] You 're a siamese twin , and your other half is starting to make some questionable decisions
|
( 1/2 ) `` Shae, Shae!'' a harsh whisper wakes me. A head looms close to mine and I blink slowly. This type of thing would probably give a normal person a heart attack, but not me, because I'm not normal. Scratch that, WE are n't normal.
`` C'mon, Shae!'' she pats me on my cheek, a little too hard for my liking. I groan and try to roll my torso over onto my side so I can keep sleeping. It does n't work very well when you're joined at the hip though with your twin. I feel Margery swing her leg off the bed, which in turn pulls me along with it. `` Hurry up! I told you about this, we'll be late!''
`` Ughh!'' I groan. Normally, Margery is the quiet one. It's harder to live, no, exist in society. We are always made fun of and pointed at. The gawking never stops. It seems like our choices are either to become part of a freak show ( which Mar actually thought might be a good idea until she saw that one show... American Scary Story or something... ) or live through experiments done by scientists eager to get their hands on a new'specimen'.
`` Mar, ca n't you just do it yourself,'' I grumble, knowing full well it was a stupid thing to say. She's silent but I can feel her annoying. `` Okay, okay,'' I say quickly before she can start badgering me. Mar has a way of digging up all of the past favors I've asked of her when she wants/needs something from me. `` I'll just take another sleeping pill when we're almost there,'' I say to myself since Mar is already busy pulling on her half of the pants.
We get dressed, which is easier than most people think it is. We've had years of practice so I do n't see why people are still surprised that we take about as long as a normal person. And by years, I mean our whole 23 year old lives. We do everything together because, well, we kind of have to. Yet even though we live practically the same lives, Mar and I still turned out pretty different.
I've accepted our lives. Thrown away by our parents probably because we were'freaks', lived out most of our lives at an orphanage, bullied and harassed by children and adults alike... Yes, I would say it's been a tough life. Whereas I turned into more of a tomboy that grew thick skin and let the rude words bounce off of me, Mar seemed to go the other direction. She grew more and more meek, not even lifting her head in public for fear of seeing the awkward or disgusted glances thrown at us. I've learned how to not care while Mar did n't even bother trying to act like she did n't care. The only thing Mar ever wanted, every Christmas, every prayer, and every birthday wish, she asked us to be normal. After a while, she learned to stop asking.
All the effort I put into trying to coach her on how to be like me were rebuked. Even though she's extremely meek with anyone else, Mar is a firecracker when we're alone. She loves to read and learn and is n't afraid to use that wit of hers to make me feel stupid. I swear she's insulting me half of the time and I do n't even actually know it. She lets me know that she's fine just the way she is and she would much rather be her than be me. I suppose that's a good thing though and I have since stopped trying to persuade her. However, I still worried for her mental health when we were in public. I can read her emotions almost perfectly but not her actual thoughts, which frustrates me to no end.
This is why I have been supporting her in her'secret book club'. At least that's what she calls it. At first, I was stupid enough to just believe her. Maybe it was the excitement that she actually met some people she could talk to that clouded my mind or maybe it was just my plain stupidity. Both are likely answers.
It's been a few weeks now since she's joined and every few days we sneak off into the night while the moon still hangs high. I do n't mind the walks and I like the quiet of the night. There's no excess noise from people. The animals do n't judge you because they fear all people alike. I usually just take a sleeping pill when Mar says we're nearing the meeting area but not tonight.
Now, I know I'm stupid but not stupid enough to always believe that'secret book club' meets so often and at 3:49 a.m. I mean, what group of people can read that many books that often?! Oh, and the time. That's weird too.
We've been walking for a good half hour now. The small house that the medical research center provided us with is completely obscured by the thick entanglement of trees. Even though it's unpleasant to get stuck and prodded with things all in the name of'science', the sinking feeling I'm getting in my stomach right now is worse. I suddenly long to return to the safety of the bright lights and latex gloves. At least I knew around what I was getting myself into.
Lately Mar's been acting different. She glared at a nurse when she tried to take blood. Glared! Her glares are normally reserved for me and only me. It was just a simple blood sample that they needed and Mar has never resisted before. She was the more compliant one. She even knocked over a tray, sending a sharp tool they were going to use almost into one of the doctor's eyes! She swore up and down it was an accident and apologized but like I said, I can read her emotions almost perfectly. She was n't sorry and I knew it was n't an accident.
|
[ WP ] Write a story to convince that Hitler did nothing wrong .
|
Presume the following: at a certain point A in our future, time travel is invented.
We're now, at point N.
Immediately large hordes of time travellers from point A start travelling back to before 1945 to try to kill Hitler and stop the senseless tragedies of the Second World War.
There's a problem, though. We at point N can clearly see that Hitler was n't killed before or during the Second World War. At least not until the end.
So if we know that time travellers are actively trying to kill Hitler, then why is he not dead? Simple, apparently Hitler is very good at fighting time travellers. Exceptionally good even. He's been killing them his whole life.
At a certain point in our future, post-A, let's call it B, that logically also has time travel, people notice that the point A time travellers are making Hitler some kind of invincible time traveller-killing machine. This needs to stop! So point B starts sending hordes of time travellers to point A, to try and destroy their time machine, so they would no longer be able to send time travellers to try and kill Hitler.
Point A thus has a huge problem. Who can stop the point B time travellers? Who's the best time traveller-killing machine in the entire Universe? Easy answer: Hitler.
So in 1945 the point A time travellers bring Hitler to the future. He was losing the war anyway. He would n't be missed. They left a burnt body in his place and whisked him off to his future. Their present. Where he's successfully killing point B time travellers.
Now, there is one huge problem with Hitler. He killed so, so many Jews. So many, so unbelievably many. It's a bit weird actually. Hitler was obviously a very intelligent and shrewd politician, a master propagandist, and someone who pulled post-Versailles and post-Depression Germany out of an economical mire. Why would a smart and well-educated man like him kill so many Jews?
A thought experiment. You're sending a group of people to the past to kill Hitler. Who do you send? You could send a random group of people, but you probably would n't. Probably they will be older than your average population ( you wo n't be sending children ). There might be other patterns. In the past, the target of these time travelling killers will of course be studying these patterns. He's in their past. Maybe he can influence the future. Stop the future from sending time travelling killers to him. Let's presume that the average global population has 1 % Jews. If, for some reason and it could even be coincidental, Hitler's killers have a change of 3 % of being Jewish, then that's a significant number. Okay, they are older, but obviously people get older as they age. He can hardly kill everyone above 21. But a statistically significant part of his group of time travelling killers are Jewish. You can work with that. You could kill all the Jews in the present, so there wo n't be any left in the future.
So Hitler arrives in point A in the future. They clearly have n't forgotten about the concentration camps during the Second World War, that's why they were trying to kill him in the first place! So it's a PR nightmare. But they need Hitler, he's the best at what he does. Everybody decides `` Look, he's obviously not a nice guy, but then, who is?'' and `` Let's just not mention the War.'' So once in a while, yes, there's a reporter, during a press conference, who raises the question: `` So, what about all the Jew-killing...?'' to which the point A time travelling community, indeed, the world looks slightly off to side, draws in air to closed teeth, looks at one another and decides not to give an answer.
There is a bigger issue. There's one group of people in point A who're especially persistent and they've decided that, yes, they will keep bringing up the whole Hitler issue and the rest of the world be damned! This group, who are the Jews, of course, are a continuous embarrassment to the future. It's a PR disaster and they ca n't get rid of it.
So during the next meeting, they put it on the agenda. They address the issue:'' So what are we going to do about those Jews?'' at which point one man raises his hand, arm stretched out, slowly, into the air.
|
[ WP ] One morning , you wake up and suddenly find yourself three years in the past , as if the last three years had never happened . It happened to the entire world and everyone remembers .
|
You wake up. Something's off. Your room looks the same, but not quite. Glancing around, you still ca n't put your finger on it. Fuck it, what time is it? You reach out to check your phone.
What. The. Fuck.
Your iPhone 4? You upgraded years ago! Wait.. the screen says 2013.. was.. was it all just a dream?
You sit for a minute and laugh, `` It's like that game, Roy'' but then remember that Rick and Morty was just part of the dream. `` God damn, that was vivid,'' and you put some pants on and head to the kitchen.
You forgot about your fish, which had died long ago in the dream.. because you'd forget to feed it. Guiltily feeding Nemo, you still ca n't really believe it's 2013, and that whole experience was a dream. You wonder, `` What happened today, in that dream?'' but find it impossible to grasp. The only clear things seem to be a basic plot of steadiness in life, political strife, and pop culture, thinking `` God, if I was a musician or filmmaker, I could just take over the next few years.'' And you turn on the TV.
But it's blue. No signal, nothing's coming in. Then you hear it. You've been so inside your own head about this dream that you did n't even hear the light roar outside.
You see them, filling the street, before you can even open the window. New York can be packed, but you've never seen this many on your block. It's like all of NYC is headed somewhere. Walking.
`` What the fuck is going on!?'' You shout to the crowd. A man stops near your building, `` You had the dream, right? Where you lived every day into 2016?'' Everything goes numb. No. How is this possible? `` THE dream,'' he'd said. They'd all had it? Did everyone have it? How long was this known? No one called you? You check your phone again. 2013 still does n't seem right, but you see it. No signal. What the fuck was going on?
He's still shouting to you, and it seems you catch on where it matters. ``..Sanders and Trump. We're all walking to D.C.!'' `` What?! That's like a few hundred miles!'' You shout back. Nothing that has happened today makes any sense. `` What else can we do? It just feels right! People have been looting and burning everything corporate down. It's the revolution!! Right, brothers and sisters?!?!!'' The mass of people swelled with sound and began chanting different slogans until one had gained the most followers and they all adopted it. It was some old hippie song, and the crowd that sang was already walking through the next intersection.
You sat down and looked at the fish.
/u/tfity
|
[ WP ] A invincible , immortal man is sentenced to `` death '' for a murder he did n't commit .
|
The execution chamber was sea green, brick-walled and lined with windows, shuttered yard side but not for a room across the safety glass. That room was dark, bleachered, and host to the extended family of the clerk, mostly blank-faced, well-dressed, and fidgeting. The spectacled executioner under scrubs, mask, and cap, had minutes earlier swabbed the condemned β s elbow β s crooks with alcohol for the intravenous cannulae, the IV.
The condemned was strapped to a gurney. His eyes, blue opals, were fixed on the door. The expectant crowd saw his profile. Last rites had been waived off, the priest the sole recipient of any gesture of recognition from the condemned in his whole year long stay.
The executioner took his sweet time rechecking the pentobarbital. He β d seen too many go wrong. His old eyes squinted at metered drug and bleachers creaked under restless bottoms. The condemned did not blink, nor did his stony eyes issue water.
Satisfied at last, the old man, addressing no one in particular, said, β I will now administer the lethal injection. β He turned to the machine and pressed the button that replaced saline drip with barbiturate, then stood back to watch life pass. The crowd collectively scooched forward in their seats, all keen on catching the first eyelid β s droop.
Seconds passed, then a minute. Then two minutes. The condemned β s face: a mask inscrutable. Muffled grumbles accompanied checked wristwatches. The executioner squeezed cannulae and paused, circumspect and puzzled, and turned to consult with the physician waiting outside the door when the condemned spoke.
β Time. β Eyes bored door-wards.
β What? β
β Time. Invisible, inaudible, immeasurable. It is realizing what you are; what you were. β The condemned sat up, snapping leather restraints like rubber bands.
A woman shrieked behind glass.
β But time, before and behind us - I transcend it. β The being arose, his posture immaculate.
β Clocks measure time, β a child responded, calm amidst a frenzied flight.
β Clocks measure themselves. β Blue eyes blinked once and the guards piling through the door quite suddenly found themselves retracing their steps back to chairs in the hall, to sit again, legs crossed and batons holstered. The clerk β s family lurched blindly back into the bleachered room and dove into their respective seats, their horror replaced by annoyance as they checked their wristwatches.
|
[ PI ] You are born with a left eye that can see 10 years into the future . You 've worn an eyepatch all your life to block the images . One day , you see a bright light in your masked left eye , so bright that it shines through the patch .
|
Whats sad is that in reality he would probably see a lot of monotonous visions and would probably miss or forget about stuff that could help him. Imagine looking at 13 years of sitting in a classroom 40 years in a deskjob. Yeah they made college seem fun, but not everyone parties through it. Some people dredge through it while working. Imagine working while seeing yourself retired and fiddling around the house and watching tv. Never had time for kids or grandchildren. Noone visits in your old age. Then the last thing you see is the ground rapidly coming closer and your site comes to an end. No WW3 no watching sex at 6, he probably saw it late at night when he was 18. He got to see his belly grow and the walls become more and more faded.
|
[ WP ] Story is of the POV of a war machine ( tank , aircraft etc . ) , either modern or historical , speaking of its own lethality .
|
This is my bolt. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My bolt is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.
My bolt, without me, is useless. Without my bolt, I am useless. I must fire my bolt true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will...
My bolt and I know that what counts in war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...
My bolt is mechanical, as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its feathers and its tip. I will keep my bolt clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will...
Before God, I swear this creed. My bolt and I are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life.
So be it, until victory is Rome's and there is no enemy, but peace!
Edit: Roman ballistae!!
|
[ WP ] You 've just invented time travel . You decide to go exactly 1 year into the future and speak to the first person you see , `` Hey what day is it ? '' `` 364 . '' `` What do you mean 364 ? '' `` It 's been 364 days since the incident .
|
[ NSFW ]
Dancing is Forbidden, by u/_EndlessFun_
I rushed out, I will admit, in some anticipation. It must be admitted, too, that I did indeed grab the lapels of the first chap I met, and demanded, rather louder than I had intended, to know the day. The day? I had anticipated such a reaction.
β Yes! Damn you! The day! β
β It β sβ¦it β sβ¦ β he stammered in amazement. I could feel my eyes bulging in their sockets, damp with anticipation as I was, I was still aware of that much. β It β s 364, β he said at last.
But what did this mean? White-knuckled, I shook the unhappy fellow until he told me at last. 364 days since The Incident. But what incident? This would have to wait. For, as I have said, I had been shaking the man rather aggressively, and now that he had regained some of his composure he promptly knocked me down. This is not an entirely difficult endeavor; I weigh about 56 kilos in boots, though I am a man of not modest height. Skin and bones in the parlance of my time: that time being July 16, 2016. After some choice curses, the fellow adjusted his clothes and moved on.
But what incident? And the day after I had left, no less!
I hurried to the nearest newsstand. But there was nothing to be had in any of the papers about any upcoming anniversary, and everything seemed relatively normal. Perhaps the fellow is daft. I thought. Aha! Here it is! I stabbed the dateline on the evening news. I had found my proof. β It worked! β I screamed happily, and promptly cut a jig in front of the shopkeep, who responded quite predictably in a less-than-positive way. Yet it was the extent of his reaction that could not have been predicted, and which answered for once and all the previous, lingering question of a moment before. You see, he didn β t just respond in a less-than-enthusiastic manner. He called the police.
I must say that in the 365 day interlude between my time and this new one no great softening enlightenment had entered the minds of the police of our town. Upon their arrival at the scene, I was maced, β touched up β with fist and club, and tossed into the back of a squad car. During my moaning and suffering at their hands, and indeed, all the way to the station, I never for an instant stopped pondering about what I possibly could have done that had excited such animosity, such aggressive policing, and such disdain. After recovering myself, and as we were nearing booking, I asked the officers, rather meekly, for their forgivenessβnot as officers of the law, but as gentlemenβfor whatever offense I had offered. I explained that the rather strange orb that they had encountered upon arriving at the scene was in fact a working ( yes, yes, I know! Marvels of marvels! ) time machine, and that I had just succeeded in traveling one year. Hence my mirth and hysterics, hence the rather unseemly assault on the passerby, hence the shouting and gesticulating and dancing.
At the last word, the cops abruptly stopped, and the one on my left dealt me such a blow to my guts that I thought for sure I would vomit up all of my organs at once. They reminded me, hatefully, of the dayβDay 364βand spitting distastefully the words, recommend that I show some fucking respect to the dead and not offend again all common people with the repetition of my crime.
So it was the dancing.
After being booked I was thrown into a large holding cell with several other men who at once took to fiercely buggering me until at last my asshole hung out of the back of me, a red, puffy, angry thing, like the mutilated trunk of a baby elephant. A half-hour of crying and gingerly settling what parts of my body I could in their natural positions later, I was approached by a rather Sinbad-esque fellow. I instantly cowered and begged him not to repeat the performance of a half-hour before. He waved that off and settled down on the ground beside me. He had established, along with the 32 other inmates, his dominance, and now he was interested in who I was, what I had done, and so on. I told him, rather carefully, that I was totally ignorant of The Incident, and seeing his sudden surprise, I clung to his arm and kissed his hand and asked him not to beat any further an ignorant, emasculated, and rather miserable man who was already sure to be unable to walk, sit, or shit correctly for a fortnight at least. He laughed at that, and told me, rather ironically, that he wasn β t so sanctimonious as the rest of our society, that he had lost his virginity, for instance, on the altar of a church at age 12 to an experienced little slut of 15, that he had burned a few flags in his day, that he had in his youth robbed several old ladies of their social security checks in a rather ingenious ponzi scheme, and, to gloss over many other evils of which it was too tiresome to speak, that he regularly trampled the cross just to afford himself some certainty about where he would eventually end up on the day of judgement. But, for the sake of the other β pussies β in the holding cell, we ought to go to a place farther apart where he could explain it to me.
The Incident, he told me, settling my battered body gently on the ground again quite apart from the other men, was a coordinated invasion of the four inhabited continents. It had been preceded by the release of a J-Pop song that was apparently so catchy and was accompanied by such an idiotically simple dance routine that it at once caused a mass dancing hysteria.
β 300 million people danced themselves to fucking death, little bro, β the inmate said. β In twenty-eight hours! By the time the world governments figured out what was up and started suppressing the song, we β d lost another 20 million. Shit. My fucking mom danced her old ass down a fucking escalator and died. β He flicked what might have been a tear away from his eye and shrugged. β It was an up escalator, too. She tried to dance down an up escalator and flopped and bounced and eventually got caught in the grating at the top and was shredded into old lady goo. Mad cats were dancing when they should have been doing other shit, like manning heavy machinery or welding or shit. It got ugly. β
β Who invaded? β I asked.
He looked at me long and hard. By this time I had already told him about the time machine, and he was sufficiently worn out from raping me and reliving the tragedy of his mother β s death that he was n't up to challenging the authenticity of my story.
β You ready for this? β
I told him I was.
β Dolphins, β he said. β We were invaded from the sea by fucking dolphins. β
I won β t go through the tedious details of how I escaped from jail. I won β t recount the scene of a naked man with a prolapsed anus slung over his shoulder sprinting down the boulevards of our beloved city flickering all and sundry with blood and sweat and anal mucous as he ranβit simply wouldn β t be believed. But if you help me, if you get me out of this terrible hospital and take me somewhere, I will tell you what I saw next.
|
[ CW ] Whenever your main character tries to do something , roll for it .
|
Have n't done one of these in months. Looks like fun, and I'm on hold so...
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
Hershel Roy stepped out of the elevator [ 4 ] into the lobby of the Dome Building, a man reborn without debt or encumbrance. A pretty young blonde caught his eye, and he smiled at her.
[ 3 ] She looked away. Hershel could n't blame her, he supposed; the years of battling his creditors had left him drawn and pale, missing three teeth cracked with grinding. But self-pity was a thought for another today. Today... today called for a drink downtown.
He stepped out onto the bustling New York City sidewalk and raised his arm for a cab. [ 6 ] A long black limousine slid to a silent stop before him, and the rear window hissed down. Inside, the most beautiful woman Hershel had ever seen smiled at him. Long dark hair, blue eyes, and lips made for kissing, or... well, Hershel did n't dare think about that. Or the body under her white dress.
`` You look like a man who's had some good news,'' she purred. `` Come tell me about it.''
Hershel stepped forward to reach for the door [ 2 ]. So entranced was he by the vision before him that he did n't see the pile of dog waste. He smelled it pretty strongly when his foot skidded forward through it, though.
`` Oh, geez,'' he said. `` I --'' [ 5 ]
`` Do n't worry about it,'' she said, though her nose wrinkled prettily. She leaned forward to the smoked glass window separating her from the front of the car. `` Alfred, come help this nice man into the car, would you? And give him your shoes.''
An enormous dark-suited man emerged from the front seat and came around, a shiny pair of black wingtips in hand. `` Yes, ma'am,'' he said. `` Here you go, sir.''
Hershel bent to take off his shoe, bracing one hand against the limousine. [ 2 ]
Alfred stiffened. `` I just had this vehicle washed, sir.''
Hershel rolled his eyes in exasperation and leaned against a signpost instead [ 4 ] to slip his shoes off [ 5 ] and put Alfred's on [ 2 ].
The enormous shoes were ridiculous on his feet. On his first step, his left foot slipped free. And back into the same pile of excrement.
Hershel swore. `` I'm sorry, I'm sorry,'' he stammered. [ 6 ]
`` You're cute when you're flustered,'' the vision in the back seat said. `` Alfred, stop intimidating the gentleman and help him get cleaned up, would you? I want to see was behind that smile he was wearing, and I ca n't do it if he's covered in *poop*.''
Alfred took charge, withdrawing a handkerchief and cleaning Hershel up without further comment. A bottle of sanitizer followed, and soon Hershel was stepping *over* the wet green pile and into the back seat of the car.
`` That was... interesting,'' he said, looking away from her so she would n't see his missing teeth. `` Thank you. For everything.'' [ 6 ]
`` Do n't be shy,'' she said, turning his face toward her as the cab pulled out into traffic. `` Imperfection is its own beauty.''
Hershel flushed. `` You're just saying that to be polite.''
`` No,'' she said. `` I mean it. The way you came out of that building smiling -- it looked like an angel had taken you over. The teeth do n't matter.''
`` I do n't know what to say to that.'' All he'd wanted was a cab to a bar. This -- well, she'd been the one to approach him. Better to let her continue to lead. [ 3 ]
Instead of answering, she sat, regarding him silently. What did she want from him? Hershel wracked his brain, trying to figure it out. [ 6 ] She'd stopped for him. Saw his smile. She wanted to feel good, he realized. Probably she'd had a rotten day, or a rotten life. And she wanted to share in his joy.
And share it he could. `` This is going to sound stupid to someone in a limousine. But I just got out from under a lot of debt today. A lot. it was n't even my fault -- but I do n't want to bore you with that. Basically, my life was ending, and now it's not. You can see why I might be happy about that.'' [ 5 ]
`` What happened?''
`` It was my ex-wife. She ran off with someone. I ca n't blame her for that, I was n't the best guy to be around sometimes. But she ran up the credit cards when she left. They were all in my name. We had hundreds of thousands in credit, and she used every cent.''
`` Wow.'' The woman leaned back. `` That's... wow.''
`` I do n't want to prosecute her or anything. The police said I should, but -- I loved her once, you know?'' [ 3 ]
She bit her lip. `` I have to say, though. You're kind of a sucker, are n't you? If that was me --''
`` You'd have to be there,'' he said quickly. `` She had issues. I knew that when I married her, but I thought, you know, I have issues, she has issues --''
`` Me, I think that people should stand up for themselves.'' She smiled at him again, but her spine stiffened and there was winter in her eyes. `` We make our own luck.''
Dammit. He should have known better than to bring up Lucy. This always happened.
`` Well, I kept at it, you know?'' Desperately trying to get back on firmer ground. `` There's something to be said for persistence, sucker or not.'' [ 4 ]
Her eyebrows quirked and her posture relaxed. `` True enough. So. Where were you going?''
`` Downtown. For a drink or two at Sully's. He told me he'd buy me a beer if I ever managed to get out from under. He did n't expect it, but the joke's on him. You could come with, if you want.'' [ 2 ]
`` Sully's? Sounds like there's sawdust on the floor and drunks on the curb.''
Of course she would n't want to go to Sully's. Stupid, stupid. She was high class. `` Somewhere else, then?'' [ 1 ]
She cocked her head. `` What did you have in mind?''
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. He moved closer. Put his hand on her thigh. It was as smooth and cold as marble. `` We could just drive around. All night.''
He never saw her pull the knife. Never felt it slice across his carotid artery. But he felt the hot rush of blood across across his chest, down his throat.
He put his hands to his throat. Trying to stanch the flow of blood. [ 1 ]
Failing.
He fell across her lap. Blood spurting between his fingers, staining her pretty white dress.
`` Why,'' he tried to ask as he fell backward.
But he knew. He knew. He was n't the kind of man who deserved good luck. That was why Lucy had left him, after all. He'd never been able to appreciate it. Never been able to let good enough alone.
Why did he get in? Why?
Somewhere in the Caribbean, he knew, Lucy was laughing. With her new husband.
He should have taken the dogshit as a warning.
The inside of the limo went gray and distant. Hershel was only vaguely aware of her body leaning over his. Could barely hear her voice. The last words he ever would hear.
`` Alfred,'' the woman said. `` I've gone and made a mess again. Be a dear, and stop --''
|
[ WP ] Years in the future , Reddit is a thing if the past . Few remember it . One day , you receive a package with a strange return adress . OP is delivering .
|
I was frozen as I stared at the symbol on the package before me. I had n't thought of that website for what felt like an eternity. Hell, the internet back then in general was a distant memory. Everything had been neurally integrated for so long, only babies were typing now. I trembled, eager with anticipation as I opened the box. A beam of the warm sunlight streamed ever so neatly between the autumn leaves of the dogwood trees, illuminating the contents of the box. It contained 2 holosheets, and something heavier in the bottom that I could n't quite make out.
My curiosity eating me alive, I gingerly pull the holosheets from the box, they still ca n't get these damn things right. I scan the first one quickly, it's text dancing and bulging out at me, then a second time. My eyes go wide, I begin to weep. I refuse to believe what I'm seeing. I'm shaking so bad I almost ca n't read the second sheet, but I have to. How could I have forgotten? My *username* had even concerned it, this forgotten segment of my past.
My tears splatter on the page and I fall to my knees, my gut wrenched tightly into a knot. I feel completely torn apart inside, my saddest thoughts and harshest realizations are reawakened in this very moment. The memories begin to resurface, and my tears slowly come to a halt. I come to my feet and look back down at the first sheet. I chuckle. I chuckle again. My chuckle now sounds comparable to a happy drunk on a Saturday night. My laughter has evolved into that of a mad man, I'm wildy cackling.
I reach back into the box and pull out the handgun that has been tucked away in the shadows of the package. Overlooked in my excitement to read those damn holosheets. I think to myself, guns are ridiculously light these days. The gun in my right hand, holosheets in my left, I read the first sheet aloud to myself.
`` If she's smiling, she's cheating... I'd put my life on it.'' I cackle yet again and cast the first sheet to the ground. How foolish I had been in the past, these unfounded assumptions I'd made. The memory of him saying, `` I'll send you the gun to follow up on that with, you fucking idiot,'' burned clearer in my mind than it ever had. The second sheet almost brings me to back to tears, however unrelated. It reads: `` Jimi Hendrix was the shit, sucks you never got to hear him play live.'' I think to myself, `` True.'' I let out an exasperated sigh as I put the gun to my head. OP had *finally* delivered. I pull the trigger.
I owe it to all the people whose time I've just wasted.
|
[ WP ] Now that he has 8 years executive experience , Obama can apply for the job he REALLY wants
|
`` There's nothing strange about this at all. Do you know that George Washington became the best damn whiskey maker in Virginia after his term ended?''
``.. no?''
`` Damn right, he did. Produced tens of thousands of barrels a year and sold the good stuff at two bits a gallon. Made a lot more people happy than his stint at the white house, even.'' The former president winked.
`` Oh..kay. But do n't you have a stellar pension that comes with your job? You retired with full benef-''
`` Ah, the pension. You know that Harry Truman did n't get any pension? He lived off a hundred bucks a month he got from having served in the army. A proud man he was. Had no private wealth, but would n't accept any other employment to keep up the dignity of the office he'd held. Then Ike changed the law and there's a good pension waiting at the end of the term- but who needs that pittance? You know Bill charges a million for every appearance on the lecture circuit?''
`` No way - a million? Wow.''
`` Yeah, and my buddy George W's earning rich dividends being a partner in a business venture. Heard his memoir would come out soon - now that's an eight figure deal if there was one.''
`` Very impressive, Mr. Pres-, I mean, Mr Former President. But why did you respond to the ad for a new accountant's position at the *Indiana Bones Pet Wash LLC*? Frankly, I think you're overqualified for the position, and there's a big queue out in the waiting room. Now I have a small business here and I'd like to finish this hirin's business and get back to it. I'm sorry, Sir, but we have families to feed and aint got no time for no-''
`` Ted, can I call you Ted?'' Ted shrugged.
`` I know secrets about UFOs that will never see the light of day. I know what they're up to at Area 51. I know who really killed JFK. I know why we're keeping the cure for AIDS a secret from the world.'' The former president leans forward and smiles. `` Do you think I would n't know what *really* goes on in this'small business' of yours?''
Ted observes him keenly with a blank expression. He slowly lifts his hand and presses the buzzer. Stacey, casually dressed, bored, enters.
`` Stacey, honey! Can you thank the other applicants for their time and tell them we've found what we need?''
Stacey chews on her gum as she eyes the successful applicant, then turns her glance back to Ted questioningly.
Ted smiles back at her reassuringly. `` And oh, could you lock the door from the outside on your way out?''
She does as asked. The door clicks and slowly the lights outside turn off. Ted fishes into his drawer for something.
`` I got ta let you know - I like you. I even voted for you. Twice. But that does n't guarantee anything. The screening and interview process can get pretty rigorous in there.'' Ted's southern drawl was gone. He turns a dial and the room is enveloped by a low mechanical hum. The wall behind Ted begins to slide down - there is a large metallic sliding door with the picture of a pyramid and an eye engraved.
The former president gets up from his chair, adjusts his tie and buttons up his coat.
`` Do n't worry, Ted. I've been preparing for this for eight years.''
|
[ WP ] You have a very mundane talent , so mundane that you 've never shown it to anyone . The first time you do , as a party trick , you 're told that your talent is physically impossible .
|
Edit: Want to read this in [ third-person form ] ( https: //docs.google.com/document/d/1PqTdp3TVX4dDzyaJLbBWiSH7VO8NoN-wJCVI9s33ChU/edit? usp=sharing ) instead? I'm not sure which is better.
-- -- -
We all watched in `` amazement'' as Tom produced the King of Hearts, just like he said he would. It was n't that he did the trick wrong or anything, I've just never been very in to these silly magic tricks. Or parties for that matter, but somehow I was here.
`` What about you, Stanley, do you know any tricks?'' asked Tom, directing the attention to me, though I'd sooner it go to anyone *but* me.
`` Well, I know something, but it's pretty lame-''
`` Oh, c'mon, Stanley! Stanley!'' Tom started as the rest joined in, ignoring my pleas to stop. Why did I ever open my mouth? Must've been the second beer.
`` Ok, fine!'' I said, quieting the immensely annoying crowd. `` Does anyone have a... gyroscope, or a really smooth globe or something like that? Something that spins really easily?''
`` I think I have a gyroscope somewhere, but... Will a compass work? It's a good one, promise.'' said Bill, our host.
`` Yeah, that should do.''
`` Be right back.''
All eyes uncomfortably on me, I said I'd rather show them than tell them what my trick was. How long was Bill going to be? Ah, finally.
`` Here it is.'' he said, setting it on the coffee table in front of me. I waited for the needle to swing North. Then, I held my hand over it and made it swing a few degrees East.
`` You're right, it was lame!'' shouted one heckler, and a second `` Where's your magnet?'' Another guest, only half as irritating as the rest, said, `` Can you go the other way?''
I shot an angry look at the first heckler, then swung it West about the same amount, and said `` No, it's not about being a magnet, I can just change some stuff about things that can spin. But just a little bit. Like this...'' I said, going over to a desk chair that can spin.
I sat in it, and said, `` normally, if I spin around in the chair like this,'' tucking my arms in, `` and then put my arms out, I'll slow down,'' and demonstrated. `` But if I want to, I can stay fast.''
So, just like I promised, I spun. Woopty-doo. Most of the other guests were suitably unimpressed, but one Jack Simpson, a physics major and usually a quiet ( and thus, usually-tolerable ) man, his eyes went wide and he said, `` How are you doing that?! That's not possible!''
`` I do n't know, I just..do?''
`` No, seriously Stanley, only tell me if you want to keep up the illusion, but I have to know!''
`` I'm not hiding anything, honest. I've just always been able to do that stuff...'' I said, growing increasingly uneasy at his behavior.
`` That's not supposed to be physically possible! It looks like you're violating the conservation of angular momentum, which fits with what you said about it being spinning things. But what could the implications of this be? I do n't even know, I'd have to talk to my professor and see what this could mean. Will it rewrite our laws of physics or give us control over the universe or be just a useless trick? No, it's got to mean something...'' he droned on, staring off into space and talking excitedly more to himself than anyone else. At least he had drawn most of the attention of the crowd away from me for a little while. I took that opportunity to quietly leave the party before things got any weirder. I imagine he was quite annoying for a long while, but I had no interest in finding out firsthand.
|
[ WP ] Over the years we have had many superheroes who take their name , costume and abilities from animals e.g . Spiderman , Antman , Batman etc . Make a new one for an animal of your choice .
|
`` Tell me something...''
`` What.''
`` Out of all the creatures to choose from. Why an elephant?''
I looked at the man under my boot. `` Have you ever heard the expression,'an elephant never forgets'?'' He nods his head uncomfortably, grimaces. `` Elephants never forget. I never forget. I wo n't forget when people like you, ruin the lives of the innocent. Do you remember that day, all those years ago? The court case, you got off free. No charges. Everyone knew the judge was in your pocket. And probably the jury too. I did n't forget. Did you? You remember right? You remember her name do n't you?''
`` Of course I remember.''
`` Good. Do you remember her face?''
`` What?''
`` Her face. Do you? Do you remember her cries for help? Her screams of pain. Do you remember her face? The look of terror in her eyes? Because I do. I remember every drop of blood you spilled that night.''
`` What? Nobody was there. What are you talking about?''
`` You killed my mother. And I had to watch. I remember...'' I clear my throat. Took a breath. `` I remember it all. I remember her face. I remember the screams. I remember you. I remember the pain. I remember everything. I did n't forget. An elephant never forgets.''
`` What the fuck...'' fear showing in his eyes for the first time.
`` Do you know what elephants do to those who murder one of their own?''
`` Listen, I don-''
`` SHUT THE FUCK UP.'' Now's the time. I've indulged him too much. I unsheathe my ivory blade.
He takes a ragged breath, and looks into my eyes. `` You'll regret this...''
`` Maybe. But you would n't.'' I plunge my tusk into his abdomen. His scream cuts through the night, echoing off of the concrete buildings. The resistance of his flesh was more than I anticipated. I power through the initial catch and rip a gash down his stomach. His whole body shaking and convulsing under my blade.
The cut opened up revealing a chasm of flesh and gore. I reach into the gaping hole. He's still screaming, but I do n't hear it anymore. The air was thick with iron. His blood starts pooling, red all around him, framing his body perfectly on the black asphalt. His organs are soft and slippery, quite a weird feeling. I grip the first thing I touch; and I pull. Gore falls out, my hands grasping his intestines. Pinks and maroons joining the crimson liquid on the ground. His screams little more than gutteral whimphers.
I look at his face - It's not something I'll soon forget. I soak up all the details: Eyes open as wide as they can go, pupils small dots in a sea of blue, his mouth agape and gasping for air, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth.
`` My name is Tusk. And soon, nobody will forget it...''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
This is my first response to a WP. Hope you like it. Constructive criticism always welcome.
**EDIT: ** Punctuation and phrasing.
|
[ WP ] Your Spouse goes into the bathroom only to come running out 15 seconds later . Clutching you close they tell you they fell into another dimension and what felt like seconds to you was a 1,000 years to them . They now want you to follow them back because they have built a life for you there .
|
( Oh god, they found me through her. )
The thought pounded through my head as we took closer and closer steps to the women's lavatory. I staggered slowly as she tugged on my arm, in doing so we almost bumped into a waitress carrying food for 5. I could n't do it here, not in-front of all these poor people.
( Oh god, they found me through her. )
`` Honey, please can we just go home?'' It is a plea, she can see it in my eyes.
`` Do n't you believe me? please I've missed you so much, just come back with me.'' She is so sweet still, just like before she got up all those years ago.
( Oh god, they found me through her. )
As we approach the breach I can see it before she even starts to feel around. The anxiety made my spine itch though my chest.
`` It was around here somewhere! Please honey you have to believe me!'' I say the incantation. `` Ceste Mone Takju Fridegket OOn tuMabra.'' With a violent flash of light the hole bleeds and a foul puss oozes from the wall as the breach dies under my ancient tongue.
`` Sorry, I wo n't go back. I came to this earth because you were still alive. You have to trust me. We have to run. I will explain what I really am in the car.''
|
[ WP ] Humans start out at birth with milk-white blood . The more bad deeds they commit , the darker their blood becomes . One day , you meet your soulmate . Skip a few years , and things are amazingβ¦ Until your soulmate trips , falls , and the cut they get drips ink-black bloodβ¦
|
When she was two, she tugged on the dog's tail, causing it to yelp slightly and growl at her. Her creamy white blood now tainted with thin wisps of black, but still mostly pure. It was nothing, but the blood did n't care.
When she was five, she lied and said it was the baby that had drawn on the walls. Wisps of black marbled through the young girl's slightly off-white blood. The blood did n't care.
When she was twelve, she cheated on a test. She could feel the new wisp of black join the others, but she did n't care. The blood did n't care.
When she was sixteen, she fought him off. It was dark; he was so strong. She had screamed out, but nobody had heard. She needed help; she had tried fighting back, but the few black scratches on his face and arms seemed to do nothing to deter the monstrous man.
His sick, vile words as he tried to tear the clothes from her body, her screams relentless as she kept pleading for someone, anyone, to save her... when her hand glanced over a large shard of glass, abandoned on the concrete.
Grabbing onto it tightly, she swung at him, slashing at his throat; he collapsed, choking on his blood as his body quickly plummeted to the ground. As she let the shard of glass fall to the floor, she noticed it had cut her hand.
She watched in horror as the grey blood oozing from her hand darkened to a tar-like black. She wept, realising she had murdered someone - one of the worst acts to commit.
The blood did n't care.
When she was twenty, she eagerly awaited her wedding.
But when she had fallen, just a week before the date, she was terrified to see her blood splatter across the cream carpet. What kind of woman would he think she was?
She expected him to run, to scream, but he just stood there, looking at her hand as the bleeding slowed.
She explained that night. She knew he would n't understand. She was n't evil, she was n't a monster.
But he did understand - when he sliced his own finger, the black blood trickled down slowly, pooling a little in his palm.
`` She-'' he began hesitantly. `` She pinned me down, she tried to- to...''
`` I know,'' she replied, putting an arm around him.
As they held each other in embrace, twins in blood and history, they knew they would be okay.
The blood did n't care; neither did they.
|
[ WP ] One day you wake up and everybody you talk to suddenly gives their brutally honest opinion about you straight to your face . By the end of the day you snap and do something regrettable .
|
Everyone seemed to have been giving a brutally honest statement of how awesome I am all throughout the day. All I heard were compliments of how legendary I was and how the juniors looked up to me. All the girls blushed when speaking with me and kept calling me Takahashi-namatemo-san or senpai and all the guys in my class were jealous of my newly found fame. I felt so happy that I snapped during lunch and decided take out all my money from the savings I had of doing part-time as a cashier at the maid cafe at downtown Tokyo and treat my entire class. The school bell rang and I made the announcement after our teacher left, `` You know what! I am going to treat you all to some coffee at that new place called Starbucks down the road!'' Little did I know this was the start of a month with no money.
|
[ WP ] Over night the the laws governing the meanings of Traffic lights change . Red or stop , now means Go . Green or Go , now means stop . Describe the next day .
|
My first writing prompt entry:
A poem entitled
& nbsp;
The Reversed Stoplight
& nbsp;
Red: HALT. CEASE. STOP.
Green: Pass. Move. Go.
The world was a peaceful place
Following a rhythm, Keeping a beat
Day in. Day out. Same old. Same old.
Change came suddenly, just overnight.
A spell was cast. The law was changed.
Red became Go. Green became STOP.
Traffic jams abound. Car wrecks aplenty.
Horns blared. People shouted.
All hope seemed lost forever
Till a realization was made:
Yellow was still Yellow.
The lights were changed, all set to yellow.
People became peaceful, courteous and mellow.
Traffic moved forward. Order was restored.
All thanks to a constant whose name was Yellow:
Yellow: A w a r e. C a u t i o u s. S l o w.
|
[ WP ] When you look at someone , bold letters pop up in front of them saying what big achievements they will make in life , and/or what big mistakes/terrible things they do .
|
I think this could actually be a really good comedy/romantic movie, think about it
> Dave sat at a cafe talking with his new coworker, Jeff.
> `` y'know you should really lighten up Dave `` exclaimed Jeff.
> Dave was a silent man, often thought to be sad because of it.
> Dave looked up at Jeff.
>'' leads mass suicide''. these words appeared in front of Jeff.
>'' Yeah.....I should lighten up'' Dave stated in a sarcastic tone.
that's just a situation i used for an example of the comedic possibilities, so it's a tad morbid, but none the less I think this could be a reaallly good movie.
introduce a love interest who has some special words in front of her....boom you got a movie
|
[ WP ] your doorbell rings and it 's someone from an alternate universe `` i just wanted let you know you are my favorite character but i know how it ends and i want to save you ! ''
|
`` `` i have to do this, i always had to do it'' that's the last thing you say before it happens.''
i'm still stunned, first my tv wo n't work and now this, a crazy boy at my door telling i live in a tv show, and i'm going to die.
`` wait, say that all again? but slower''
`` *sigh* ok, so where i'm from there is a tv show called *Rhodia*,''
my friend from work..
`` now i would n't say you're a *main* character, but you're B-list for sure, right now we're in season 6, and in the season finale, you die.''
`` okay,'' i say, `` i can follow all of that, but you have n't said *how* i die, or even why, do i get mugged? slip in the tub? WHAT??''
`` well you'll like it because your charac-, i mean, because *you* have a bit of a Messiah thing and low self worth, see, there's a bomb in the lobby of the children's hospital, somehow you're the only one who knows it's even there, you rush in, and defuse it, but it goes wrong, and part of it still goes off, and you burn, oh god.., you burn so slow and scream so loud, i always have to mute my tv at that part..But i came to Change that! so grab your stuff and we're leaving town right now''
`` whoa whoa whoa! there is going to be a *bomb* in a hospital and you want me to *skip town*?? no way!''
`` but you *have to*! if you defuse it; you are going to die! think about your mom! think about what she would do without you! think about morgan! they ca n't lose you!''
i stop and think, i know i ca n't leave town, and let 100s of kids die just so that i can live, but i'd rather not die if i do n't have to either..
`` okay, we're *not* leaving town,''
he's about to protest, so i continue
`` but i also do n't really want to die, so we'll call the police or the bomb squad or something and they'll getting sorted by tonight''
`` but that wo n't work either!'' he's almost pleading now `` we're mid-season right now and the bomb is n't placed until the finale!''
`` well what the hell are you doing midseason then?? should n't you have showed up at the finale or something?''
`` well, i would have, but right about now in the show is when you start acting..*odd*''
`` *odd*? what do you mean odd?''
`` well, you start getting all secretive and shifty, even in the end, right before you go into the hospital, you seem crazy, you even look like you're talking to a tree for a second, and they never explained it which was *total* BS! a lot of the fans even think it was you that put the bomb there in the first place. oh but i do n't! i think you're great, you're my favorite! that's why i'm here.''
hmph, so i go psycho, great.
`` alright, so how long until this all happens?''
`` about a month i think, it's.. actually on your moms birthday..''
Shit.
so sam, that's his name, ends up living with me till then, which is a bitch because explaining to anyone why you're suddenly living with a strange 14 year old is not as fun as it sounds, so i have to lie and sneak him around, kind of back out of my social life ( ha ) for a while, then the day comes. sam told me that he knows that the bomb is n't there the night before and that if we call to soon the bomber will just blow something else up, so on that day, we wake up, eat something quick, i send my mom a birthday card,
and we call the police.
`` the line is busy'' i say, odd, we're not known for our crime rate here.
`` try calling them again!'' sam looks worried.
it's still busy, i call the non-emergency number.
`` it's dead too... sam-''
`` NO''
`` *Sam*''
`` NO! if we go down there you die!''
`` damn it sam i'm not letting kids die so i can stay safe in my boring-ass life!!''
`` but they're just characters! actors! none of this is real, you do n't need to save them!''
`` YES. I. DO. they might be actors in your world, but in my world those are sick kids! now i'm going, not to defuse the bomb, but to make them evacuate, now COME *ON*!''
we're at the hospital, sam makes me go in the west and north doors because the bomb is at the east wing entrance.
`` i'll take the south and east doors, you go west and north, DO NOT go the the east door!''
we spit up, i run in the west door, say there is a bomb threat an that they need to leave now, they press a button and an alarm sounds, a voice over the speakers is telling everyone to calming leave the building. i run to the next door, the alarm is sounding but these people only look confused, i tell them the about the bomb and they start leaving too.
when i'm back outside i see a large group of people outside the west gate, and now this one forming at the north, but when i look over the otherway, i do n't see any people, did sam not make it to that wing yet? i run. i run hard until i start to see some people, but only doctors and nurses, and some security guards. but almost no kids. where are the children? i reach a doctor.
`` Where are the children??''
`` most of them are out safely, thank god''
`` *most*?'' what the hell does he mean *most*?
`` well, this wing houses the patients that are too severe to be moved, but once the bomb squad gets here none of it should matter''
i step back slowly, *yes*, i think, *this time i got here in time for the police and bomb squad to be called, this time no one dies*
`` psst!''
i hear it from the small patch of evergreens on the side of the road, i turn
`` do n't look at me!''
it's sam's voice
`` those doctors and guards think i'm part of this because i knew about it, one of them even said he thought he saw be put the bomb there! anyways, how did your side go?''
`` good, it looks like the hospital is almost completely empty, and once the bomb squad get's here everything will be okay!''
i sigh, for the first time in a month i do n't feel stressed, this is almost over, just a little bit longer. then i hear it. over a guards walkie talkie
`` *the bomb squad is delayed, it will be a few hours, it looks like someone sabotaged them, just hang in there and we'll get to you*''
sam heard it too.
`` ^*oh* ^*god*..'' his voice is just a whisper, but filled with dread.
`` sam?''
`` the bomb, the bomb goes off at 10am on the dot...''
i slowly look at my watch; 9:45.
the bomb squad said they'd be *hours* and we have only minutes!
i try and think, what else can we do? what else can *i* do?? and i stop, and i know. i walk slowly forward, towards the east gate.
`` NO!'' sam whispers louder, but not enough that anyone else could hear him, i turn around and look at him behind a tree, tears running down his face, i smile:
`` i have to do this, i always had to do it''
|
[ WP ] You think you might be the last human alive , but you 're not quite sure .
|
You know, I thought the apocalypse would be actually destructive. You see all these asteroids hitting your neighbour's house, aliens shooting all the shit they can see with super plasma rifles, stuff like that.
When it actually happened, no one expected that it would turn out like this.
No one expected it would actually happen.
When they commit suicide, you can see their bodies. That's how I know everyone is affected by it.
It was n't aliens. It was n't a massive natural disaster.
The actual apocalypse was made to fuck with your brain.
You see, I have no idea if anyone will even stumble by this as they walk in their loneliness. Perhaps they will. But here's what happened.
Everyone woke up one day and could n't see each other.
Actually, it did n't go like that. What actually happens is that your friends and family start to disappear. Before I lost my best friend, he said they disappeared based on how close you were to them. One per day.
My sister faded to nothingness next.
Also, I got granted immortality. Why? Presumably who or *whatever* did this wants me to watch as everyone disappears before my own eyes.
I am still counting the days before it is my turn.
If I counted correctly, I am at day 7,399,999,999.
Good night.
|
[ WP ] You are a parent . What your children do n't realize is that you 're only pretending to be unaware of their little secret .
|
It started off small.
Turn around and they'd have a rattle in their hand. The radio switched mid song to another song. Their favorite toy, Mr. Bunny would be in the diaper bag.
Hubby had no idea. I kept quiet.
But they grew older and their powers grew with them. When Sally, the eldest, was 10 we moved into a new house on the opposite side of town. She was upset about leaving all her friends behind.
The house burned down within a week and so did the school. I ended up driving her to school and nothing else happened. At least with her. For a while anyway.
Mark started creating mini universes when he was 9 and usually grew bored of them within weeks. I ca n't tell you how many times I would pick up his room to find an universe where the sun circled the planets or where creatures that looked a lot like our own kind were at war with plants. He was also quite fond of mix match creatures. Especially his baby sister's dolls and toys. I had to steal them away and fix them, changing them back into inanimate dolls then stage it like I bought her a brand new doll so neither of them would realize that I know their little Secret.
Their father had cautioned them not to show off their powers and keep it a Secret. He gave them the Talk when they were old enough to understand that they were different, but before their powers got too big and public. He thinks I do n't know about his or the kids' powers. The kids do n't think I know.
It's a charade but a necessary one. I've grown quite fond of my little human family.
|
[ CW ] Disavow this Symbol . Follows D , in Front of F .
|
*Note: Fully convinced that I was high when I wrote this. *
**HARRY FUCKING POTT'R**
*A Play Cast by Lunatics*
Hagrid: You is a wizard, Harry.
Harry: I'm a what?
Hagrid: A wizard.
Harry: But... no, that ca n't possibly --
Hagrid: It can. It is.
Harry: I'm not a --
Hagrid: Look, kid, I said you's a wizard, and so you is. Now shut up and sit in back.
Harry: ( sigh ) Okay.
( in background, Dud is running around with a pig's tail )
Dud: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
____
Hagrid: Yo, Ol. This fool wants a wand.
Ol: ( grinning manically ) Hiiiiii.
Hagrid: Ol, shut up and bring him a wand.
Ol: Okaaaaaay.
Hagrid:... Ol, that's a twig.
Ol: DID YOU TRY IT?
Harry: No...?
Ol: I did n't think so.
Harry: I'm mad, am n't I?
Hagrid: Probably.
Harry: ( sarcastically ) Yaaaaay.
Ol: TRY MY WAND!
Harrry: Okaaaay.
( bursts of light )
All: ( monotonously ) Ooooooh.
Ol: Told you so!
Harry: Cool wand.
Ol: Know who had its twin?
Harry: What...?
Ol: YOUR WAND'S TWIN! MR. DARK LORD YOU-KNOW-WHO HAD IT.
Hagrid: Shit.
Harry: What?
Hagrid: Sucks for you.
Harry: I do n't... is this bad?
Hagrid: This man... you do n't know?
Harry: Know what?
Hagrid: You-Know-Who Avada'd your mom's ass.
Harry: WHAT?
Ol: Yup.
Hagrid: Mhm.
Harry: I'LL KILL HIM!
Hagrid: Uuuuh... you kinda did that.
Ol: Yah, now you's famous'n'shit.
Harry: I am?
Ol: Uh-huh. How d'you think I know you?
Hagrid: Wizards *all around* know you, as...
Both: Harry. Fucking. Pott'r.
____
Molly: Ron, hurry up!
Ron: But Mom I'm a wimp!
Molly: RONALD I SAID GO!
Ron: Okay, okay! ( runs through a pillar )
Harry:....what.
Hagrid: What?
Harry: That boy just ran through a wall.
Hagrid: A pillar.
Harry: Shut up.
Hagrid: THAT'S NO WAY TO TALK TO YOUR --
Harry: ( runs through pillar )
Hagrid: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
___
Ron: Haaai.
Harry: Hi.
Ron: Can I has look?
Harry: Ummm, what?
Ron: ( has look ) YOU HAS SCAR!
Harry: Huh?
Ron: You is --
Harry: -- I know --
Ron: -- most famous --
Harry: -- I *know* --
Ron: -- lord and savior --
Harry: -- I kno -- wait, *what? * --
Ron: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!!!
( swoons and faints )
____
McGonagall: Is that Harry Fucking Pott'r?
Dumbdoor: It is.
McGonagall: I'M GON NA SORT HIM!
Hagrid: I'M SORTING TONIGHT, BITCH!
Sorting Hat: All y'all trippin'. That boy is going in MY Hou --.
Dumbdoor: You has a hou --
'ditor: Oookay, this is just lazy writing now.
Obligatory: Harry Fucking Pott'r!
___
Snap: ( drums on a chair and starts to rap )
I'm Snap. Pro' Snap -- oh snap!
Potions Masturbator -- fap, fap!
Do n't swish no wand, no incantations in this class,
All of you -- 394 -- or I'll punish yo fuckin' ass!
BITCH!
Harry: What in God's holy na --
Snap: DID I SAY YOU COULD TALK, FOOL?
Harry: Uuuh --
Snap: SHUT UP AND GRAB YO BOOK
Harry: Alright...
Snap: Wait.
Harry: What?
Snap:........I fap to your mom.
( Harry's cauldron blows up )
Snap: HARRY. FUCKING. POTT'R.
___
Draco: Yo Pot.
Ron: IT'S HARRY FUCKING PO --
Draco: I did n't ask you, moron. Your family is n't worth my insults.
Harry: Oi! I want to fuck his family!
Ron & Draco:.......what?
Harry: Uuuuuh... just Ginny.
Ron: Ginny's 10!
Harry: I'M 11!
Ron:....fair point.
Harry: Moving on: I wo n't allow you to insult that chick's family!
Draco? Alright, Pot, you wan na fight?
Harry: Oh, I wan na fight.
Draco: Okay, I can fight.
Harry: But not now; it's too bright.
Draco: Stupid low-vision kid. Okay: midnight.
Ron: Did... you guys just impromptu-rhy --
Harry & Draco: SHUT UP, RON!
Harry: Now I'm gon na fuck *and marry* Ginny!
Ron: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
___
Harry: Yo, Draco, you said midnight. It's midnight.
Filch: NIGGA!
Harry: Shit.
Ron: Run!
Harry: I'm running!
Filch: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
___
Harry: Who's our DADA Prof?
QQ: I AM! I IS PRO' QQ!
Harry: Is nobody in this school just a Prof?
QQ: I DUNNO ABOUT Y'ALL, BUT I'M A PRO, AND A QQ TOO!
Harry: If you *think* about rapping...
QQ: NAH! I'M ALL ABOUT THAT CAPPING!
Harry: & # 3232; _ & # 3232;
QQ:: D
Harry: Bitch.
QQ: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
___
Harry: What is it, Hagrid?
Ron: It's a bloody dragon!
Hagrid: NOT JUST ANY BLOODY DRAGON! NORB!
Harry: What.
Hagrid: NORB!
Harry: I did n't --
Hagrid: **NOOOOOORB!!! **
Harry: Shit.
Ron: What?
Harry: Hagrid's showing us this...
Ron: Umm, and?
Harry: Goddamn it Ron, you idiot! This is incrimination by association! Hagrid's blackmailing us!
Ron: Blackmail?!
Hagrid: It's what I do.
Ron: B-but... I *don't* do dragons!
Harry & Hagrid:.....
Ron: Not *that way, * idiots!
Hagrid: Oh.
Harry: Hagrid, this *is* idiotic.
Hagrid: You aint -- -
Harry: NO!
Hagrid: What?
Harry: I do n't want to know about any of your...'' just a dragon'' -ish animals.
Hagrid: Killjoy.
Harry: Maniac.
Ron: Harry Fucking Pott'r!
Hagrid:....No, Ron. Just....no.
Harry: Ron kills things that way. A lot.
Ron: Shut up.
___
Harry: OHMYGODWTF
Fluffy: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWR!
Ron: HAGRID I'M GON NA KILL YOU!
___
Harry: It's a rock.
Ron: A rock?
Harry: ( nods ) A rock.
Ron: Shit, man. I want that rock.
Harry: I want that rock, too.
Ron: Gon na find it?
Harry: You know it. I'll find that rock, or my na --
Ron: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
Harry: ( sigh ) Still killing it.
Ron:: (
___
( Quidditch Pitch )
Harry: I CAUGHT A SNITCH, BITCH
( hacks, coughs, throws up Snitch )
Harry: Shit, man.
___
{ Quidditch Pitch )
Harry: IMMA CATCH A SNITCH, BITCH -- WHOOOOA!
QQ: MUAHAHAHAHA
Snap: What was that? Fall flat? Harry gon na go splat?
QQ: MUAHAHAHAHA
Snap: Oh, Snap, wing-flap, magic: fly, nigga! ( turns to QQ ) How was *that?! *
QQ: It was *okay....*saving kids is annoying though. Sorry, try again in tomorrow β s audition.
Snap: So I lost cuz of *that? * Cuz of *him? *
QQ: Yup.
Snap:......
QQ:.....
Snap: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
___
Harry: YO I FOUND NICK'S ROCK!
N. H. Nick: My rock?
Harry: No, immortal Nick's rock.
N. H. Nick: Aw.: (
Ron: Wait, you found Nick's rock?
Harry: Mmmmhmmm.
Ron: So...?
Harry: Fluffy's guarding it.
Ron:....Goddamnit.
___
Harry: Doggy! Watchy my wandy!
Ron: Um... wut
Harry: My dick, man.
Ron: WTF?
Harry: Shut up, man, I'm trying.
Ron: I'll try. ( pulls out a gun )
Harry: How'd you --
Ron:....I dunno. Plot? ( shoots Fluffy )
Fluffy::' (
Ron: Aaaaaw.
Harry: RON, GO
Ron: ( jumps ) Ow!
Harry: I'm coming, Ron! ( jumps )
Ron: ( standing up )
Harry: ( falls on him )
Ron: HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!
___
Ron: Potions?
Harry: Damn, if only Snap was with us.
Snap: ( is with us ) Oh, but I is!
Harry & Ron: Wut
Snap: ( starts to rap )
I said, potion! I'm in motion!
If I fap, I got ta lotion!
All yo flasks, so hot an' bubbly,
Shots in dark: aint no # 1....and # 2 is ugly!
BITCH!
Harry: That was actually *horribly* bad.
Snap: -_- Third potion.
Harry: Thanks. ( drinks potion and walks through burning wall )
___
Harry: You!
QQ: QQ, MOTHAFUCKA!
Harry: What's... with your hair?
QQ: NOT JUST MY HAIR! MY CRANIUM IS ALL FOR HIM!
Harry: Sorry, I do n't know many hymns... which is that?
QQ: -_-
Harry: Ah. You had it coming.
QQ: YOU INSULT MY WORDS?
Harry: I just want a rock, man.
QQ: This is...
Harry:... kind of anticlimactic.
QQ: How'bout a high-5, man?
Harry: Um... okay?
( high-5 )
QQ: AAAAAH I'M DYING
Harry: O_O
QQ: BURNING, I'M BURNIIIIIING
Harry: Um.
QQ: HARRY CALL A DOCTOR
Harry: GODDAMNIT I CA N'T
QQ: WHY NOT
Harry: I'm... out of data.
QQ: THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS
Harry: ( shrugs ) Sorry.
QQ: Q_Q
Harry: ( grabs rock and walks away )
___
Dumbdoor: So Harry what's up?
Harry: I uh... I kinda lost QQ --
Dumbdoor: -- *Pro* QQ.
Harry: Yah. I kinda lost him downstairs.
Dumbdoor: You... lost him?
Harry: ( looks away ) Sorry.
Dumbdoor: ( laughs ) Cool.
Harry: ( looks up ) Cool?
Dumbdoor: Mhm. Cool.
___
Dumbdoor: ( to all of school ) So uh... QQ is....lost.
McGonagall: Who lost him?
Dumbdoor: Harry Fucking Pott'r.
Snap: ( sigh ) It's always him.
Dumbdoor: So Imma award him a bajillion points, okay?
All:...... okay.
Dumbdoor: Now all of you thank Harry Fucking Pott'r! Congratulations and all that! Gryffindor wins the Cup!
All: WOOOOOT!
Draco: Waitaminute.....
All:.....
Draco:......
Slytherins: **HARRY FUCKING POTT'R!!!!! **
*Note: Shut up, I went long enough without it, okay? *
*.....I really need to see someone about this. *
|
[ WP ] We are all guilty . All the town , even the little kids , shared the crime . And we deserved this all β except that last bit of mercy .
|
We're all fighting,
Through a sea of faces.
We live amongst them,
From the day we are born.
All sharing the same space,
All breathing the same air,
But all we know,
All we can ever know,
Is us.
So many times,
And so many times more,
We wo n't stop,
Or at least our mouth does n't.
`` I hate you.''
( There it goes. )
`` Ca n't you do anything right?''
( And again. )
Everyone does it.
Or they'll do it eventually.
Because this thing,
Empathy, it's just
So small.
And somehow,
That makes it all okay,
Just because it's them,
And not us.
Too often it ends there,
A tight noose and a broken goodbye.
But not every time,
Thank God.
But even when they find hope again,
They'll never be the same.
All because
`` We did n't know.''
And anything they do to us,
We deserve it all,
Except
that
last
`` I forgive you.''
|
[ CW ] Write a horror story where there 's no `` It 's not over '' moment after `` The End ''
|
`` Is he..?''
I nod.
We hug as rain falls and a flash of lightening cuts a jagged light across the face of the abyss.
Miles below is the mangled body of the murderer, his body twisted in grotesque contortions of broken bone and ligaments among the canyon floor rocks.
The lightening is gone and the abyss is dark again. The rain starts. We - the last two survivors - turn around, huddled, and run for the nearest police station.
The cops do n't find a body.
We live in fear for the next few months, thinking he plans to enact some type of revenge. But one day, as we watch the news, the screen flashes a picture of his face. Shot to death. Found in the very same canyon we saw him in the first time.
Still, for the next few years, we do n't believe it. He'll be back we say often, as if reassuring ourselves.
We stay prepared.
But he never comes.
Tentatively we ease back into normal lives. As normal as lives can be after an experience like the one we had.
We live together. Juggle with the idea of having kids and then decide against it. We both agree that the world's too dangerous. We move often. Hotels after hotel. We do n't use cellphones. Only pre-paid phonee. We always pay in cash. Try to stay low, out-of-the-way.
60 years later, he's still dead. We're still the same way. Paranoid.
It's over. But it's not. Not really.
|
[ WP ] All physical fighting is banned around the world . Only through a unanimous vote of Yes , from every person on earth can a fight occur . Today the first fight in 150+ years will be held .
|
`` Dude! Get over here, you got ta see this!'' Benny stuck his head through the door frame, staring at me in eager anticipation. I just stared back for a few seconds. `` What is it?'' I asked. I had no intention of getting up right now. Work sucked today, and I just wanted to lie in bed and calm down.
`` I'm telling you, you HAVE to see this! I'm serious. You'll be sorry if you miss it, I swear! It's on the news! You wo n't believe it!'' `` Just tell me what it is dude, I'm tired and trying to relax!'' He winked and ran off. Fuck Benny. He always does this kind of shit. I sighed and got up.
As soon as I reached the living room, I realised this actually had to be something serious. Jane and Derrick sat on the floor in front of the TV, staring at the screen, visibly confused. Tina, who would usually make fun of the newscaster's haircut, sat on the edge of the couch with a face paler than a slice of white garlic bread. Benny now stood next to Tina, grinning from ear to ear and waving at me.
``... The fight will take place in Global World Arena in Metropolis next Saturday at 6:30 pm GBT...'' Wait. Did the newscaster just say `` fight''? I looked back at Benny, who was still grinning like stoned Steven Tyler and now also showing both thumbs up. `` We did it, Dude!'' Tina looked up at Benny, her face turning from shocked to angry in the blink of an eye. `` You think this is fun? Someone might get hurt!'' Benny just shrugged it off: `` Oh come on, Tina! Get off your high horse! We all know you voted Yes too! Do n't play innocent now!''
Everybody knew Benny loved fighting. Sure, he had never been in a fight, but he read everything about them. Technically, books about fighting were banned too, but the intergalactic police would usually turn a blind eye, since they were n't seen as harmful as films, sound recordings or pictures of fights. Back when we were younger he would also ask my gramp questions about the glorious days of fighting and his long gone idol John C, master in the arts of fighting and best at his profession. According to gramp, there was even a thing called the `` Fight Club'', but for some reason he just would n't talk about it.
Tina was now close to crying. `` But I only voted Yes because I did n't think everyone else would! I mean, nobody actually believed this would happen, right? Derrick?''
Derrick turned around, obviously searching for words: `` I... I think it's... I mean... Did you guys actually read the full thing? It was like 2 paragraphs or something... That's just... What is the fight even about?''
Now Jane was the one staring in disbelief. `` You actually voted without even reading the ballot? Are you kidding me? How can you be so ignorant?'' Derrick tried to defend himself: `` Well, it's good for you, right? You wanted the fight to happen, too!'' `` Well not exactly'', Jane answered. `` I just think the law against fighting interferes with my global constitutional right for freedom. I do n't support the cause itself, but I support our global constitution. Plus, I wanted to teach those politicians a lesson! We all know they fucked up and could n't handle the alien invasion! These are the same people that banned fighting! This will show them we wo n't have any more of their shit! Gallbuddhve bless Earth!''
Through her tears, Tina started screaming at Jane: `` Hell no, would you please just shut up with your planetist bullshit already? Gallbudhve does not exist, and it was NOT AN INVASION! Their planet is at war! You probably also think Lincler did nothing wrong! You are just a sexist, planetist, fascist,....''
Before she could finish her sentence, Benny made a step forward, shoved her back and yelled `` Do n't you dare to fucking bring politics into this discussion! This is about fighting and nothing else, keep your bullshit out of this!''
Benny realised everyone was staring at him, eyes wide open and full of fear. Tina had tripped from the push he gave her. She sat on the floor, holding her head in pain. `` You... you just... What the heck did you just do? ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY?'' Her voice turned into a loud screech as she stood up and started walking towards Benny, eyes narrowed and fists clenched. Benny slowly backed down, shielding his face with his hands and trying to calm her down: `` Oh shit! Tina! I'm soooo sorry! Just... Please do n't call the police! Do n't let them....''
With a quick jump, Tina jumped on top of him, raining punches on his head while he tumbled through the room. Jane and Derrick both ran over, trying to get her off him and yelling commands at each other. Just when Derrick was about to get her off, Jane accidentaly hit him in the face with her elbow, starting an uncontrollable fighting ball of bodies that bounced through the room.
I sighed and turned around. Work sucked today, and and i just wanted to lie in bed and calm down.
~ Dedicated to all lurkers
Edit: spelling, formatting, added/changed a few sentences.
|
[ WP ] The day you die , Death comes and asks if you 're ready to go . Jokingly you say no . To your surprise , he leaves . So now every year he comes back and asks again . You 're in too deep , you 're getting too old , But you ca n't stop .
|
Fast. I'm moving too fast. The world around me is hazy, it feels like I'm seeing the world in a mirror, but there's water pouring down it, making the images soft and distorted. Heart pounding I throw my head back and laugh, everything's electric. I run my fingers along the leather of the driver's seat, and look over to catch her staring. Giggling, I bury my face in my hands, the sensation of my breath on my arm raising goosebumps.
`` Everything just feels so... delicious.''
`` I ca n't wait to be where you are babe'' he laughs, and I ca n't tear my eyes away from his teeth. Those canines are wicked sharp, and I begin to wonder what it would be like for him to bite down on me. I feel invincible, and the knowledge of my own immortality makes me brave. As his attention flicks back to the road, I reach out, my fingers tracing the outlines of his jaw. Even his stubble feels soft. He looks at me again and I open my mouth to share my joy. We can be together forever! And not the cliche `` 4ever'' carved into a tree in some shitty park, where people go on their shitty picnics, but the real forever.
A hand yanks the steering wheel hard to the left. My hand.
Forever.
***
He was asleep. Or pretending to be asleep. I took a deep breath and muttered a quick prayer to whoever happened to be listening.
`` What's up?'' My voice shattered the silence like a stone through a mirror.
`` Oh for Christ's sake'' the old man grumbled, blinking away the tears that accompanied my visits. `` I thought you'd have learnt by now'' reaching into his pocket, he reached for the pack of camels he kept close by and lit up with a trembling hand. His thumb caressed the edge of the lighter, holding tight over the cap until the heat began to fade and he had regained control of his emotion. It was a familiar routine. November 29th every year for as long as I can remember.
`` Those things will kill you y'know'' I whispered, stepping closer to his place on the porch. I'd learnt long ago that bringing up the obvious distress only led to a bad reaction, so instead I looked out towards the horizon, giving him a moment to compose himself. The sun was setting on what had been a bleak and miserable day, straining to break through the heavy wall of grey that hung overhead. It was claustrophobic, and I started to tremble slightly.
`` What do you want Roisin?''
Turning, I took a step towards the old man in his chair. He sat so still it was like he was etched in stone, hands gripping onto the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles seemed about to break through his paper thin skin. The only movement came from the cigarette smoke drifting towards the ceiling, yellowed by God knows how many years of toxic fumes. But then, who was I to judge someone for their lifestyle choices.
`` You know what I want'' I whispered, hoping the tremble in my voice was n't as obvious to him as it was to me. During my last visit I'd let frustration get the best of me and I'd erupted in anger. His rage had been great and terrible, and I was not keen to repeat that experience.
`` It's been a year since the last time I came. Please, I've been alive for far too long.''
`` We've talked about this.'' He hissed, his voice suddenly urgent, furious `` You were the one who changed your mind. I found you in that car wreck, and I was supposed to be the one to take you to rest, but goddamn you Roisin there's no receipt for eternal life. It's not something you can just exchange at will, you denied...'' the old man began to cough, a dirty, hacking wheeze that convulsed his whole body. Spittle flecked the floor at his feet, and finally he slumped back in his chair. My heart sunk.
`` Please,'' I begged. `` Let me go.''
`` No'' replied Death, `` you cheated me once.'' twisting my wrist upwards, sending a flash of pain up my arm, he jabbed at the track marks that had never faded. A crunch of metal and blinding pain ripped through my body.
`` And you do n't deserve peace yet.''
*Edit for clarity/a fair few grammatical errors. *
|
[ WP ] To accelerate scientific advancement , the world agrees on a β decade of justified means β - meaning , as long as you are producing results , you wo n't get punished for unethical behaviour when designing your experiments .
|
We thought `` Decade of Justified Means'' meant do what is necessary to produce results for humanity, and we thought it would!
I do n't think they expected someone like me to come out of the woodwork. At least, they thought they could STOP someone like me.
The DJM really just created a lax approach to the law in the scientific arena. If they had just KNOWN what I was up to, they may have stopped me. But not anymore. In less than an hour, it will be completely over.
Humanity is a plague on Mother Nature, a disease. And she needed someone to stop and recognize that the ends DO justify the means. The eradication of humanity? A small price to pay for the longevity of our planet.
|
[ WP ] The world is ending in 15 minutes . You journey to find one person in the chaos in or out of time .
|
`` Oh god. Oh my god. Jesus CHRIST'',
I think to myself as i run as fast as i can through Times Square in New York. I keep muttering on how i have to get to my parents and tell them how much I loved them, and thank them for all that they have done for Me. I am pushing through crowds of people who are all crying or standing shocked in despair, knowing that there end is inevitable.
`` AHG'',
i cry as I run into a man trying to run by Me. I get up and keep rushing by the ocean of people, still determined to find my parents. Finally, I find a cab right outside of Times Square with the keys still in and no driver.
`` Yes!! Thank you thank you thank you thank you''
i furiously repeat to myself as I floor the cab. I fly over sidewalks and various streets heading towards my parents. The radio in the cab I'm in keeps playing the same radio message. The one on how the asteroid is going to arrive any minute and kill everyone. `` No survivors'' is what the radio host keeps crying. I finally reach where my parents dwell. I fling open the cardoor and rush to my parents. I stuble across many gravestones and trees until finally I am upon my parents gravestone.
`` Mom. Dad. I know I left when I was younger....I know I made some stupid mistakes.... I know you guys always loved me and only wanted to help me, and I ignored you. I took everything you did and gave to me, and threw it all away. I was n't there when mom was sick. I was n't there when she died.... I was n't there when you, dad, were in a sad place in you're life. I was n't there when you got older all by yourself without any family. I was n't there to repay you what I owed you. I do n't know if you can hear me... But I have a feeling that... That I'm not going to survive this... I do n't think anybody will, or at least, that's what the government says. so, because I'm not going to make it.... Mom....dad.... I just wanted to let you know, that I love you guys, and I always have. whether I showed you it or not. Whether I yelled at you or ignored you... whether I was there, or I was n't. I'm sorry for everything. I wish we could be together, just one last time.''
As I utter the last part of my sentence, i look up at the sky in my tear brimming eyes, only to see a faint fiery ball heading towards the earth. I lower my head. I Put my right and left hand on my parents gravestones, and close my eyes.
`` See you soon mom. You too dad. I love you''.
After this is muttered, the asteroid strikes the earth, almost poetically.
|
[ WP ] After cremation , your spouse 's ashes are turned into a diamond . Instead of coming out blue like most , their diamond is a bright red color . Later that night as you lie in bed , the diamond on the nightstand , it begins glowing .
|
She was clearly a vampire, so her soul was a demonic red. It explained how she managed to drain so much life out of me in the short time we were together.
It also explained a lot about her afterhours habits really. I thought she was moonlighting at first, maybe getting a quick fix somewhere else because I just was n't good enough but it's actually kind of a relief to know she just wanted to sate her thirst on some lonely bloke in an alley.
I'm kidding!
Seriously though, maybe I just need to buy more sleeping pills. The ton of legal cases she left behind for me to handle is probably causing me to hallucinate that her death diamond is glowing an evil, malevolent red like the fiery pits of hell itself.
Yeah, I'm sounding bitter and grumpy.
I kind of miss her, oddly enough.
Her forceful, conniving nature is really what drew me in. I'm really used to people cowering in fear before me or trying to beg for their lives but she was totally calm and even managed to intimidate me back on our first encounter.
Ah, if only she told me she'd wanted to go assassinating for the Greenes again. I could have warned her about their tendency to execute their employees.
No use crying over spilt milk, I guess. I know what she'd want me to do anyway. I've been planning for ages. If her diamond is really glowing, it's probably a sign or something that now is the time for me to carry out my plan.
I'm going to break into the head of the Greene family's house. I'm going to murderize all his bodyguards and their pets and then I'm going to corner that smug son of a bitch and make him choke on her diamond before setting the entire place on fire. With him inside, of course, not quite close enough to any possible exits.
Ah~ It's going to be sweet! A fitting memorial too. I'm sure she'd be waving the pitchforks for me the moment she sees that glorious burst of flame.
To you, my dear red diamond.
|
[ WP ] Your plan to pop forward in time a day to get the winning number to the record-breaking lottery jackpot has unintended consequences
|
I'm new to this, be kind.
Haha! I had it. I developed a way to look into the future. The device was simple in nature. In fact, sitting in a living room most people would just think it β s some vintage TV from the 1930 β s. Really, that β s what it was, an old TV with a few extra nobs and some hocus pocus going on inside the back. The screen was fairly small in size and would only display about 5 or 6 colors but it was good enough for what I would want to do. The idea and concept for the device came to me in a dream and it had taken me a few years to finally get it working. I used it the first time just this past weekend. It worked quite simply.
With tonight β s lottery I finally had a solid purpose for it. I wasn β t sure why I built it in the first place. I β m not even sure how it really works, it shouldn β t but it does. I turned the knob to make sure it was on the right year. Then I adjusted the dates to show today β s date, December 20, 2013. Yep, we are good to go. A reached down and flipped the switch along the bottom and the screen began to glow. The device made a lot of noise and seemed to hum with a slight vibration coming from somewhere. There it was a vision of me getting out of bed. It was working just like it had earlier. It was a full motion picture of my day tomorrow. That was the interesting thing about the device. It only showed me it the viewer. Luckily enough I had plenty of daily habits which would allow me to insure I received the lottery numbers. First and foremost was the daily newspaper which would be out front on the driveway.
That is when I noticed it. That wasn β t my room or my bed or even my house. In fact as I continued to watch myself move around I realized I was in a large gymnasium filled with cots and hundreds of people. Everyone milled about. Everyone looked around with blank stares, blank stares that had an inkling of fear in their eyes. I watched as I slowly walked through the area and asked an armed military guard something. Another feature of the device was complete lack of sound. The guard supposedly answered the question and motioned in the direction I walked off in. What was happening? What is going to happen today that there are so many people huddled in one place? I watched myself enter a hallway, lined with hundreds of people. That is when I first noticed that a lot of people were injured. Some of them missing limbs or with severe burns over their body. I watched myself as I didn β t look to the left or right, just at the ground just in front of my feet and slowly forlornly walked down the hallway towards showers. I found the fast forward button and pressed it for a few seconds watching the screen glitch and I quickly showered, got dressed, grabbed my things, and walked outside. Outside there were more military guards and vehicles. Some vehicles were loading people in and others unloading injured, crying people who were being grabbed my the military guards and taken into a room across the way. I was at a high school campus, that was the high school basketball gym I woke up at. A guard motioned for me from one of the vehicles and I watched as I pulled myself inside. It was a troop transport, I took the last seat along the side. Nobody was talking, nobody was looking at anyone else. Everyone had the same blank stare at the floor. The truck bounced along a road very roughly and constantly was swerving side to side causing the occupants in the back to sway back and forth against each other. Finally the truck stopped and everyone got out and that is when I saw it.
There was nothing left. Looking around, the best I could figure I was standing where the Capitol Building stood once. I mean there was a long field and portions of walls stood where large buildings once were located. Everything was black and ashen. The guards came over and gave each individual instructions and everyone fanned out and started looking under rubble, I guess we were looking for survivors. I didn β t see how anyone could survive this.
Once I realized what had happened I quickly turned on the TV. The broadcast was turned off and the emergency notification system was on. It blared its alarm loudly and had a short message on it, β stay indoors, stay low to the ground. β I stood in horror looking at the screen when suddenly the ground shook and all my windows shattered. I looked outside and saw the large mushroom cloud billowing into the sky. Right where I would be standing, tomorrow.
|
[ WP ] Write a story based around any quote you can think of .
|
Hey! This is the first thing I've written, ever. Well, apart from a few other stories that are n't on here a long time ago, but that's not what's important right now. I would really appreciate any criticisms whoever the current reader could give me since I know that this story is far from perfect. [ Also here's my quote ] ( http: //www.wowhead.com/forums & topic=200027/just-a-simple-question-that-a-mod-could-hopefully-answer )
I could see it, just across the horizon. It was beautiful, absolutely breathtaking. It was incredible to think that I had gotten here with no help. When I'd finally announced to my family that I was going to abandon them for my own self fulfillment I'd been left out on my own, thrown out onto the street like a broken toy. Abandoned by the only people I'd ever known life. When I'd started this journey all that I wanted was to do was look more like. I'd wanted answers, I wanted to find my purpose. I wanted to see how far I could go, how far I could push myself. Making me question myself, making me want to find answers. For the first time in my life I had a purpose to fulfill. I could finally meet the man who so many had directed me to. I could ask the simple question which had started this entire journey. I would finally meet the mods who could tell me if there has, infact been anyone who has really been far as even decided to use even go want to do more like?
I'm on my final stretch, the last few steps until I reach my destination. I can see the door at the top of the mountain, I can feel the excitement starting to swell up inside of the pit of my stomach. I drag my sweat ridden body up until my muscles can no longer stand it, battling against the winds. I stare at the door, unmoving. Entranced by rotting wood and the rusted latch on the door. Shaking, I put my hand on it. Slowly turning the handle with care, hoping that the rotting wood will hold up against the newfound pressure being applied to it. I enter into the dark abyss, unknowing of any dangers that could lurk in the shadows that engulf me. For a moment, time stands still. The winds outside stop, the drops of water that formed the ambiance quite down and I hear footsteps.
`` I know why you are here''
The old man could barely walk, needing support from the wall just to walk.
I move closer to him, cautious. My throat is dry and I'm shaking. Mustering up as much courage as I can I speak.
`` Then, you can answer my question. Right?''
My voice cracks and my courage starts to fade.
`` Of course my son, I have been watching you throughout your entire journey. Trying to answer your question''
He stumbles, I can see the wrinkles on his face. If I stare into his eyes long enough I can see into his soul, into all of the hardships that he has faced.
`` And it was n't easy but...''
The suspense swells and I could strangle him right then and there. I'd wasted my entire life to get here just to watch this old man croak right infront of me?
`` I believe that I β ve been further even more decided to use even go need to do look more as anyone can.''
He stumbles and falls.
`` Can you really be far even as decided half as much to use go wish for that?''
I'm furious, I've come to great lengths to get here and he dares to ask me questions?
`` My guess is that when one really been far even as decided once to use even go want, it is then that he has really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like.''
He stares me in the eyes.
`` It β s just common sense''
And with that he slowly fades away, leaving me astounded and with more questions than when I began with.
|
[ WP ] Halfway through your flight the pilot makes an announcement . `` Would all passengers please close their windows . There is no reason to be alarmed . ''
|
`` He must have seen something!'' James said excitedly. `` Or maybe he heard something over the radio. You know, via the control tower or something.'' He paused for a moment. `` I bet there's a big hole and a mushroom cloud where New York used to be!''
`` I'm sure its absolutely nothing like that,'' I assured him. James was definitely the paranoid type, always happy to accept conspiracy theories and such, jumping to conclusions despite there not being any evidence whatsoever. Last month he thought the government was behind that terrorist attack, just because some donut posted something on a forum somewhere.
It took me three days to get him to leave the house after that particular incident.
`` It'll be something interesting to talk to mom about later,'' I said.
We were on the way to her place for a short weekend break. It took me the best part of a month to convince James to come with me. He had recently read about some rogue aircraft maintenance practices and he got worked up about it, thinking it might be unsafe to fly.
`` Ah, I know!'' James cried, `` it's aliens is n't it! I bet the pilot saw some alien ships and did n't want us to panic.''
`` Do n't be flipping ridiculous, James'' I said, trying my hardest not to get angry at his stupid, irrational way of thinking.
It was hard to keep a level head with James pushing these ludicrous notions around all the time. Sometimes, though, I worried I was beginning to think like him. Like when he sent me a link about these dodgy maintenance practices on A319 engines. When I booked our flight and saw we'd actually be flying A319s I spent about an hour reading up on maintenance regulations before convincing myself that it was all a load of cobblers.
`` Alright then, maybe it's not aliens, but it's something serious.'' James said. `` Maybe we've been hijacked? Did you see anyone acting weird before the announcement?''
I ignored him. I was thinking about the link. It had said that to save costs some serviceable mechanical components in the engines were routinely replaced with cheap, inferior alternatives. These components would cause the engine to suddenly vibrate more than usual, which then quickly caused them to catastrophically fail by catching fire. The link even claimed there had already been seven plane disasters caused by this specific issue in the last two years and that there had been a giant cover-up to keep it all quiet.
This cover-up claim is what convinced me that none of it could possibly be true. Surely in this day and age of social media there's no way you could cover up anything of that magnitude.
`` I'm going to look,'' James announced, as he reached out for the window.
I did n't stop him. He opened the window shutter and muttered to himself.
`` I ca n't see anything,'' James said somewhat disappointedly, `` I guess you were right.''
It was eerily quiet for a few minutes as James studied the world on the other side if the window.
`` Can you feel that?''
|
[ WP ] The organization 's top `` assassin '' secretly spares all of his targets ; relocating and hiding them with the money earned from their bounty .
|
Jeffrey eyed the girl walking in front of him. If he was n't working, he might have tried to get to know her more. He already knew more than he should, though. Her name was Felicity Connor. She was a 26 year old female, about 5'4 and 120 pounds. After getting an art history degree, she ended up working in the local art museum. Her parents died shortly after she graduated, but she quickly married a man almost twice her age, named Gary Connor.
All the organization told Jeffrey was that Felicity was the mark. The rest he found out on his own. His duty was simple: Take her out and wait for the next assignment. Jeffrey had his own methods though.
After researching public records, social media, and following it up with some surveillance, Jeffrey came to the conclusion that Felicity's husband Gary was the client. Why he wanted to kill his wife, Jeffrey had no idea. Most likely, it was a divorce down the road with no prenup. It was always about money.
Jeffrey looked around to ensure the area was empty and then stepped up his pace. Before she could react, he grabbed her into an alleyway with his gun shoved at her back.
`` Do n't say anything,'' he whispered loudly. `` You can get out of this alive if you stay calm and listen.''
`` Wha- what's going on?'' she shrieked.
Jeffrey spun her around slowly and looked her in the eyes. `` I'm an assassin. You're the mark.''
Felicity looked down at the gun in Jeffrey's hand and then back up at him. `` You were saying something about getting out alive?'' she asked, questionably.
Jeffrey lowered his gun. `` Yes, Felicity,'' he started, tapping his jacket pocket, `` I have two envelopes for you. One is an airline ticket. The other is filled with enough cash to get started and begin a new life. Just say the word.''
Almost immediately, Felicity reached out her hand and spoke up. `` Deal,'' she said.
Jeffrey pulled out two envelopes from his pocket, one much thicker than the other, and dropped them in Felicity's waiting hand. `` Never come back,'' he said.
After a few minutes of looking into each other's eyes, Jeffrey turned around and began walking toward the sidewalk. A sudden gunshot echoed through the alley and he fell to the ground.
`` And you call yourself an assassin,'' said Felicity as she walked passed his fallen body.
|
[ WP ] Flirting with death has gotten you somewhere ! You and death are meeting up for your first date .
|
I lay there, awaiting your cold embrace,
Bloodstained knife on the ground, floor red, wrists slit,
Red gushing out, flowing fast, like a race,
The embers in my eyes, long since unlit.
For years have I hoped that we would soon meet,
But for the first time, I have faced the fear.
Endless teen angst written on white, lined sheets,
But finally, I could sense you were near.
Time froze all around me as you came close,
I then said to myself, `` I am ready'',
You walked in, black dress, pearl necklace, red rose,
Your beauty itself made me unsteady.
A look of sadness flashed in your brown eyes,
Our only words to each other, goodbyes.
|
[ WP ] Write a really great story that ends so anticlimatically that I hate you .
|
I ran down the corridor. With every step my lungs and legs wanted to give out, but I knew I had to keep running. It was behind me. I could barely breath, and eventually I reached the door to the stairs. I could go up or down, but I had to decide quick. I chose down. I jumped down a few levels, hurting my legs a bit more by not bending my knees quick enough, but I kept running. I ran all the way down to the ground level. I tried to exit the building but the doors were locked from the outside. I tried to break a window but the glass seemed unbreakable. I heard a noise behind me, my head spun around.
|
[ WP ] You have the ability to transform your physical features with a special pen . You decide to live a double life as a beautiful person and an ugly person to see how people are treated differently based on looks .
|
Boy, do I have stories to tell. You'd never believe how, but for the sake of discussion let's just say I've been gifted a special set of make-up and can change my appearance at will.
Now I wo n't bore you with the shenanigans, of which I assure you there were many. No, that will come at a later date. For now let me focus on the central issue -- namely, my comportment with my fellow man. Now you see, these times we live in are trying, and there has been much to-do made about our shared society. We hear bi-monthly with each new news report of how the Irish, the Germans, the Italians are treated in this city, about their peculiar looking hair, jaws, eyes, and we've each of us had occasion to experience a fellow man speak unbecomingly of his fellow Americans. Was it not just a quinquennium since our nations centennial? `` That all men are created equal,'' for those of you that have forgotten.
And so I occasioned into my fair city in various iterations of these peculiar faces; some German looking, some Italian, some Irish ( as if there even were such a thing ) -- rather, I occasioned out in the stereotype-qualities of those people so often and unjustly disparaged.
Easy it was not; on more than one venture I was harangued, harassed, and even chased from the various establishments I'd chanced upon. It was not until a good thirty-three of these little adventures that I'd discovered a little pattern, and at this point I'd begun to try to replicate it with my very special make-up. When perfected, I could venture into the streets in all manner of faces -- sometimes with the brightest of red hair, or the curliest shade of black, or even with blindingly fair hair and blue eyes -- and it made not the slightest difference. People greeted me fairly, as if I was in my usual attire and visage, and at times people even stopped from their daily routine just to speak with me. When I feigned an accent, they would inquire eagerly of where I came, and upon my blunt answers they would smile and attempt to alleviate possible consternation; `` Oh, you are n't all so bad,'' they would say, or, `` Well, I for one do n't care for the sentiment against your people.''
And it was all a thing of beauty.
|
[ WP ] You receive intel that your interrogator is a mind-reader . Manipulate your way through the interrogation by carefully controlling your thoughts .
|
Alexander Rosewell blinked as his interrogator entered the room, it was a woman about his age with a stern expression and her hair tied up in a ponytail.
`` Hello, Arwell.'' The woman greets with an impassive face.
'Wow, she's pretty stern looking.....sexy. Wait who's Arwell?'
Her face twitches with annoyance and confusion, and Alexander grins.
`` So you my interrogator eh? Yu being here with me it would make any man jealous.''
'This should be fun.'
The Woman sniffs, `` I am Angela Robbins. I'm telling you my name because I am the one who will bring you to justice!''
Alexander nodded absently all the while remarking the similarities of their initials, it would make monogramming pretty easy.
Angela snarls, `` Hey! Eyes on me, concentrate!''
Alexander briefly wonders what exactly she's seen and if she's willing to share.
Angels slams the table and grabs Alexander and shakes him hard, `` CON.CEN.TRATE!''
Alexander groans and sighs, `` Fine, I'll try okay? Geez.'' He sighs and straightens his clothes as he cracks his neck.
`` Let's get this over with yeah?''
Angels sighs and mutters, `` Finally.'' She regains her composure and starts the interrogation, `` Is your name Alexander Rosewell, named the Arwell? A reknowned conman who's swindled over a hundred thousand dollars?''
Alexander opens his mouth before closing it, Arwell? Yeah that name sort of made sense, it was a few letters from his name and it's pretty cool.
Angel slams her book on his head, `` ARE. YOU. ARWELL?''
Alexander pouts then shakes his head, of course not it was preposterous.
Angela's eyes widen as she slams her hands on the table and her pen skitters across the floor, `` WHAT?! What do you mean you're not Arwell?!''
Alexander flinches, for a beautiful woman she's pretty violent. She event knocked her pen to the floor, it looked expensive too. He wonders where could he get that pen.
`` I'm not Arwell, honestly I'm just a normal guy.''
She grits her teeth and lets out an angry scream, `` There is no way you are n't who we're looking for! We set up a sting operation at night just so we could catch you, even if you did escape the policeman still got a good look at you!''
Alexander sighs, this was getting annoying.
Honestly sting operations where the target got away? The adrenaline might have muddled the memories of the Policeman, it was dark too obviously something would have happened.
Angels angrily runs a hand through her hair letting a few strands loose from her buns as she tries to calm herself down.
Alexander blinks as he notices the change in her appearance, he wonders if the reason she keeps her hair up is because it makes her slightly less attractive than she already is.
She explodes, `` WOULD PLEASE CONCENTRATE, IT'S DRIVING ME NUTS WITH HOW YOUR THOUGHTS KEEP WANDERING! IT MAKES IT HARD TO READ YOUR MIND!''
Alexander pauses then blinks, ridiculous but still it makes sense.
`` You're going to have a problem with that.''
Angela snarls, `` And why is that?''
Alexander scratches his cheek nervously, `` I have ADD if it is n't interesting I ca n't concentrate.'' He flinches at the thought of her exploding like that, he never meant to get her angry.
Angels slides down to her seat and puts her face in her hands.
``... Are you ok?''
`` Just go.''
`` Wait, but-''
`` LEAVE!'' Angela screams as Alexander runs out the room.
As Alexander closes the door behind him he briefly wonders about her blood pressure, a smack of a chair against the door sends him running out the building in fear.
|
[ WP ] One day a time portal opens in your backyard and a time traveler comes through . You quickly realize he just came back from making some change to the past and that , to him , our world is the terrifying alternative time line resulting from that change .
|
`` Alright, let's start again...'' Philip said, his hand covering his eyes. `` What is the year?''
James set down the cup of tea in front of the mysterious, confused man. `` 2015.''
`` And what happened at 0? Or 1? Whatever.''
`` Um...'' James considered, `` Think it was supposed to be around the birth of Christ.''
`` Alright, that would be that Roman guy, right?''
``... basically.''
Philip considered the options, and shook his head, `` Alright, this is not helping. Let's go further back a bit. When were the pyramids built in this... AD/BC time frame?''
`` The ones in Giza?''
`` Yes, those.''
James grabbed his iPad, and called up Google. `` Um... looks like somewhere around 2500 BC.''
`` So, if BC is negative...'' a brief pause, `` 4500 years before now?''
`` Um... yeah, I think that's about right.''
The man eyed James' iPad. `` I am when I am supposed to be, but you have got tech that's a few centuries out of date. Does everyone have those sorts of things?''
`` A lot of them do, yeah...''
`` Does that thing have a map?''
After a lot of zooming out, and very confused looks at the names of the places around the world, the man sat back. `` So I'm in the right place, too... What went wrong?''
`` So you're from... now?''
`` Our point in the present is the same, but we're from different timelines. I was born in... well, it would be 1986 by your reckoning, but from a town off the coast of...'' he glanced at the map still on the iPad, `` England that, apparently, never existed... I know, tenses are weird.''
`` Wait, off the coast?''
`` Yes, a floating city.''
James just stared at the man. `` Normally, I'd think you're crazy, but you appeared in the air above my backyard right in front of my eyes, and set the arm you broke with something from that pouch on your belt... how is that, by the way?''
The man rolled his arm. `` It's setting nicely, thank you.''
`` Anyway, I'm willing to suspend disbelief after what I've seen.''
`` I need to know what went wrong. The world is not supposed to be like...'' he motioned around, `` this.''
`` You went back in time?''
`` Yes, that is right. I was doing some research in the past, and I tried to come back to my lab, and ended up in your back yard.''
`` So just researching?''
`` Yes.''
`` You were n't going back in time to... I do n't know, kill Hitler or something?''
`` Who?''
A heavy silence filled the kitchen, and was all the answer the man needed.
`` He was a very bad person in this timeline, was n't he?''
James just nodded, and glanced at a picture of an elderly couple on the counter.
`` Alright... do you have access to history on that thing?''
`` Yeah...'' James called up Wikipedia.
`` I was in Europe, about 1700 years ago. I need to know what I did to change history...''
-- -- -- -- -- --
Philip leaned back in his chair, and sighed. On the iPad sat the article for the Dark Ages.
`` You're telling me you think you caused the Dark Ages?''
Philip nodded, still in shock. `` The Roman Empire never fell in my history. I was studying the middle of their empire... and I must have done something that led to its collapse, plunging the entire area into a regressive age...''
There was some more silence. `` What are you going to do?''
Philip looked at the device on his arm. `` I must to go back and fix it. I must try and turn things right...''
`` What about me?''
They looked at each other. `` I do not know... If I succeed, then... you may not exist anymore. Or you might... split timelines like this might be strong enough to continue on their own. I really do not know.''
James sat back, considering. `` In your timeline, you've got... what, fifteen hundred years of scientific advancement instead of five to ten hundred in ours?''
Philip nodded.
`` And in your home, your world, you've got cool gadgets like time machines, and wraps that can fix broken bones in minutes...''
`` Among other things, yes.''
James glanced at the picture on the counter again.
`` Will I know if you succeeded?''
`` I do not know.''
There was another silence.
`` Is there anything I can do to help?''
`` I believe you have done everything you can,'' Philip got up, and checked the device on his wrist. `` This still has about 60 % charge remaining. I should have a few tries at righting my wrong.''
James looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. `` Good luck.''
`` Thank you,'' Philip stepped outside, and started pressing buttons. `` I would suggest stepping back.''
James watched as Philip was enveloped in a white light, and vanished.
|
[ EU ] Patrick Bateman ( American Psycho ) living out his last years in a retirement home
|
The bass drum starts and a moment begins. The album is `` First Band on the Moon'' by The Cardigans. The band is most known for their hit, `` Lovefool'' and is often disregarded as a pop one-hit wonder. While subsequent albums would be a darker departure, their first release is a jaunty mix of light punk fair as it expertly conceals a series of serious contemplations about the futility and fragility of not just human relationships, but the humanity of the artists themselves. Perhaps most shocking is the 9th track, their cover of `` Iron Man'', showing that not only do they appreciate their classic rock forefathers, but they communicate their appreciation to the music medium as a whole by putting a unique focused yet relaxed spin. 39 minutes and 27 seconds later, the album has finished, and so I have I.
There is a ticking. An almost audible flick of precisely machine granite upon granite into the air around me. A dripping rhythm of researched and purified nutrients pours from pristine laboratories across the face of the planet and into a lifeless bag that hangs there. It mocks me as without out it, I cease to be. The nurse delivers flowers address to a Tom Munson, a fibromyalgia patient one room over. His children stop by and say they are sorry they have n't been able to visit more often.
My name, for the remainder of this week is, Patrick Bateman. I live on the 6th floor suite of the Silver Cedar Living Facility and presently reside in the hospice wing. By my count, I have 6 properties, 3 offices, 17 cars, 2 yachts, and 4 children, but all of them believe I am not their father. Cecilia, the third mother, knows this is not true, but for the sake of her 15 room mansion, she is willing to pretend. None have come to visit.
If you were to have met me 10 years ago, first you would have noticed how well dressed and active I was. It is important to be seen as an active and engaged individual -- which I was. Time had long since passed where I had started a series of my own firms, bringing together various business connections I and my father had made over the years. One would have guessed that my experience in merger's and acquisitions would have prepared me for the negotiations and foundations my career would focus on in later years. Speaking plainly, it did n't do as much as a well tailored $ 6000 Tom Ford black pinstripe cutting-edge statements with custom Jacquard stitching does.
My current situation however, finds myself set with stage IV terminal intestinal cancer. Unfortunately, the luxuries of better living while maintaining a certain and essential facade, utterly fails to address an underlying concern.
I am now bedridden, and the surgeries and chemotherapy have not been successful. Tumors grow unchecked, spreading, bursting forth, and metastisizing beneath this very skin that keeps the world at bay. The irony is that I have spent the better part of my life seeking to contain this festering and insatiable manifestation when in reality, I had budgeted my time and actions using a different time table.
I am Patrick Bateman, 42 years old, father of four, murderer of 127, liar, perjurer, philanderer, and generally productive member of society. I will not be missed and will not miss. It ends. I end. Until then, I wait.
|
[ WP ] `` Thousands of years ago , humans used to do a thing called 'War ' for fun . Sometimes a few countries would play , but humans of old managed to get the entire world together to 'have a war ' a few times . Let 's have another one , exactly like the old days ! `` , the World Council decided enthusiastically .
|
Elder Carragine glanced at the corner of his retinal HUD. With a slight 45-degree nod to his right, his ocular nano-implant opened up the conference spire's private channel as he subvocalized the traditional Gathering preface.
`` Brothers of the True Reality: We accept our charge as keepers of peace, creators of light, and saviors of human kind. May our resolve be ever vital and our watch ever vigilant. So we shine.''
*For all eternity* came the reply in unison.
`` We have a single order of business this day,'' Carragine began. `` Several of you have expressed concern at the exponential population growth of the past decade. It is true that the Mess numbers have n't been this high since the first Culling over six centuries ago, and there is understandable trepidation regarding this.''
The five encircled Elders murmured assent. `` However,'' continued Carragine, `` this is intentional. I have been in conference with the both the Council of Assuagement and the Council of Census Control. They have confirmed that Messes have become increasingly more aggressive over the past 8 generations, despite regular Cullings.''
More mumbling of agreement. `` It is the esteemed opinion of both councils that the Messes be allowed to reach a critical population level, one that stretches their resources paper-thin and sows a ruthless competition between them. That level is quickly approaching.''
`` To what end?'' asked Elder Molbok. `` This does nothing more than cost us more in Scissor Squads and Asphyxiation Drones. They breed ten times faster than they kill each other!''
`` Please pull up'21st Century and Below: The Shadow Ages' in your data banks, brothers,'' replied Carragine. `` You will see that before The Great Unification, the Messes lived in a barely-controlled chaos of warring groups called'countries'. These groups would quite regularly declare hostilities on each other, with the victors often plundering the defeated.''
`` Ah, black legends, like more of their lore,'' said Molbok. `` The Messes are n't capable of organizing their huts, much less coordinated combat.''
`` I assure you, Elder Molbok, that these histories are accurate. Without our intervention, the Messes were quiet ingenious with their own destruction. The councils and I have thus agreed to facilitate these ancient conditions. The anticipated result is a self-imposed Culling many magnitudes greater than our usual fare. The most significant benefit, however, is the weeding out of the aggressive elements of their society. Those not killed themselves will have been purged of their predatory animal instincts, at least for a time.''
`` Hah! A devilishly ambitious gambit,'' barked Molbok. `` And how do we go about setting these husks to killing each other?''
`` Quite simple,'' replied Carragine. `` We have begun dividing their slums into separate quadrants. Normal rations are ceased, and we are now giving each area an abundance of one item, and a severe lack of all others. We tell them,'the ministries are running a shortage of all goods, but they are giving you most of the clothing, as you are the Chosen Ones.' We encourage their use of this honorific, and give similar titles such as'Great Ones' to the other areas.''
`` So we will have the'Chosen Ones' fighting the'Great Ones' over pants and shoes? Brilliant!''
`` Yes. We have given the weakest slum the most food while starving the others, to ensure a quick start of hostilities. I have just uploaded projections from the Census Council to your display. As you can see, they predict a 3-4 year conflict, with casualties rising up to 40 % by the final year.''
`` A grand solution!'' exclaimed Molbok. `` Why have we not done this before?''
`` It is a sad relic of a bygone time, my friend,'' replied Carragine. `` But wise rulers take lessons from their past, do they not?''
|
[ WP ] An examination given to all high school seniors is notorious for being incredibly easy . One day , after the examination , you are called to the principal 's office . For the first time in 100 years someone failed . It 's you .
|
Another year, another test. Only this time was different. This was the first time the test was being verified.
The Major General stood behind the wall-screen. Through the innumerable pixels, he had an unobstructed view of the testing room. 30 students sat in 30 desks. Well, actually 32 desks, since someone had ordered more than necessary. But whatever, the number of desks was unimportant.
He considered pacing. He nearly fidgeted. But he had learned to control his habits and nervous actions long ago. Instead he stood at attention in a room full of scientists and technology, recording everything. He kept a close eye on a particular student.
* * *
I'd never heard of the test being redone. I did n't believe the teacher or the administrators. No one had cheated. Everyone passed this test; everyone knew it was so ridiculously easy to pass that they'd never even consider cheating.
I stopped letting myself get distracted and continued. The questions were different, and they were harder. Not particularly difficult still - the answers came into my mind almost unbidden it seemed. And honestly, I'm not sure where I even heard these things before. But it must be common knowledge that the United Defense Force had a Special Projects division ( current leader: Major General Rockwell, secret ballet enthusiast with his wife, and connoisseur of Italian food ). It seemed equally obvious that they were in charge of the test.
Each question was obvious like that one. His classmate's mother was of course a widow who lost her husband in a terrible accident. His best friend's sister naturally had six toes at birth but had lost it some years later. Mr. Shan was clearly from the Philippines but lied on his immigration papers when we were at war with them over their independence. These seemed like much more esoteric questions about these people than last time.
I filled in the bubbles on the old fashioned test. A. C. F. G. A. B. D. And so it went. I wondered in passing why we were n't using electronic tabulators this time. They wanted to make sure we were n't accessing the Net.
The last few questions were a bit weird, but they must have told me the answer before coming in the door. I tended to ignore what people were saying, but that never stopped me from remembering. So I filled in B. There were 7 scientists next door. And for the last question, D. Two were named Fred Hill, though not related.
I finished nearly about the same time as everyone else. I stood up, walked to the teacher's desk, and handed him my test.
He was running everyone's papers through the scanner. He ran them all but mine. All green lights from the device. He stood up and announced, `` Okay, you may all leave. Except for Robert here.'' The other students stood up and made their way out, a few jokes at my expense being tossed my way.
I knew he had n't run mine yet, and I wondered why. Clearly they knew I had failed the test with the others. Wait, what? I failed? I knew I got every answer correct. And the teacher knew it too. The other students had all randomly chosen answers because they did n't have any way to know the right ones.
I suddenly realized I was not supposed to get any of those questions correct.
|
[ WP ] We are living in a computer simulation . Describe the beings which made it or control it .
|
After many years of development and testing, hundreds of reiterations and in depth practical studies KomaTech are proud to launch their flagship models: the K1 and the K1-A.
The K1 brings comfort to thousands of people providing the latest life support technology coupled with the none-invasive virtual reality *whole world* β’ environment. The K1 allows Coma patients, the disabled or weak to go on living, learning and interacting with their families who can access the *whole world* β’ from anywhere in the world through the K1-A home VR station.
Our unique business model sells the K1-A with all proceeds going to provide hospitals around the globe with K1s for those who deserve the right to live a life. You can visit anyone, anywhere in the *whole world* β’ instantly, vist online shopping malls, experience new places and make new memories.
All this and more from the K1 and K1-A.
|
[ WP ] On a world where one side permanently faces the sun humanity has made their home in the light , the dark side inundated with vampires and other monsters unable to venture further . In this world there is one rare event that humans fear and evil relishes - The Total Eclipse .
|
The most frightening day of human history was not when the eclipse came as it regularly did, but when it came without monsters.
Normally the eclipse brought hordes of monsters, demons, and evil. The wickedest of conceivable wickedness. We always prepared for years, for the onslaught of our people, but this time it was all for nothing. The beasts never came.
After a few days of waiting for some horrible report to happen - nothing. Not a single report of evil. The next eclipse was already on it's way... We had to know what we were up against.
Our civilization sent a scouting party into the heart of enemy territory - The Other Side. Constant transmission was broadcast over the better half of the planet. The status of these brave explorers were monitored constantly. Besides elevated heart rate and blood pressure from fear, nothing was out of the ordinary. They pierced through the icy blackness of The Other Side undisturbed.
Then they arrived to The Palace - the enemy capitol. What was on the visual feed shocked us.
Normally what happened during the eclipse was that our own capitol was ravaged and ruined. However, what was on the screen now was pure decimation. Support beams of shattered chunks of foundation were all that remained of the Great Demon City.
Our scouts approached what would have been the center of the Palace. That's when we saw what was the apparent demise of the Underworld.
There stood The Lady. She seemed to glow in the shadows, but fade to translucency when we cast our scout beacons towards Her. She wore a veil over Her eyes, almost more similar to a blindfold than a head-garb. She hold a short sword in Her right hand, and a balance scale in Her left.
`` I am The Balance,'' She said. Her voice seemed to reverberate into the back of of heads, behind our eyes, even through our screens. `` I am The Equalizer. I am Justice.''
Before we could speak, She continued. `` The planet becomes most Imbalanced at the height of an eclipse, when The Dark devours The Light. This disturbs The Great Equilibrium.''
`` The only solution is to eliminate the cause this imbalance. Neither the sun nor the planet is to blame. It is this planet's inhabitants. I have Equalized The Dark. Now I must fulfill The Mission.''
`` I must Equalize The Light.''
And with that, a blast of both light and shadow emerged forward in the screen. Our visual feed was cut, but over the uninterrupted audio feed we could hear the shouts of soldier-scouts, followed by their scream of agony and pain, and then the following silence and radio static.
That was three days ago. I sit here writing this in the capital vault, prepared to take on this threat. We as a people are scared, shaken, and scattered. Some cities plunged into chaos. Some lost all contact to the outside. All were frightened. Monster Lords were near invincible, and always gave us a run for our money... but nothing like we had ever seen before could turn a city to rubble and ash.
We sit and wait for the last chapter of our history - The Descensus.
|
[ IP ] Last Drops of Morning ...
|
The glow of the city lights up the dark sky, encouraging the party to continue. It had been raining for hours while they found a reprieve, an escape from the repetitive nature of their weekly lives. Working 40 or more hours a week in pursuit of a blissful and peaceful point in the future that can not be described in detail but only vaguely imagined. A future more easily described as an emotion or the feeling one might have when it becomes the present.
An ally way door swings open pouring light into the dark empty nook. A couple of coworkers get some air towards the end of the late night office party, their voices echoing through the night air.
`` I remember when I was young, seeing my parents, aunts, uncles and grandparents sitting around the dining room table after holiday desert,'' she said. `` The room would be filled with the smell of coffee and the dull hum of conversation.'' They notice a hardened veteran of the street as he watches from a nearby rooftop. `` Tonight was the first time I found myself considering coffee at night a worthwhile idea.''
|
[ WP ] While driving down a foggy road , you realize you have passed by the same house at least three times .
|
I β ve been driving for such a long time - can β t even get clear radio reception out this far. I really do wish Mom would move closer to town. And good lord, the fog! It looks as though I might be driving through a cotton ball. I can hardly believe I haven β t hit anyone yet in this weather. This visibility and all. That house on the right, those horrible LED Christmas lights. The colors aren β t quite right. I wonder why they can β t seem to get those colors quite right anymore. They never look like the old ones. They just aren β t warm enough, are they?
Mom always used white lights at home. What kid wants to wake up Christmas morning to the glow of a string of white lights? Might as well just string some regular old light bulbs on a tree and be done with it. Mom always said they had classiness that color lights lacked. As if Christmas has anything to do with classiness. Although, I guess for Mom it does. Mom has to have everything up to standard. I hate those clear lights though, almost as much as those LED ones on that house there on the right. Purple? How is purple even a Christmas color now? Honestly.
At least Mom agrees on that. Purple? She β d be mortified. She was mortified, to be more precise. That year back when Jim tried to put up her decorations for her. What a fool my brother is, not to know that only white lights could possibly suffice on dearest Mother β s proud home. She had him and me take them all down the second she saw them. The next day she bought a new set of β respectable strings β, as she called them, and made poor Jim do the whole house over again. What a day that was. Jim learned I suppose. He never volunteered to help with the ornaments again, and just as well that he shouldn β t. Mom is hard to please. Let one of her neighbor β s boys do it and make a few dollars instead.
But there they are on another horrible house. Those awful, gaudy, not-quite-right colors. What β s the appeal? Hang on. 245. That β s the address isn β t it? Has Mom had the house painted? It wasn β t blue before. I β m sure it wasn β t blue before. I better pull over. Maybe this is the wrong road entirely. Where am I? Mom would never put up those horrible lights. Even if she had, maybe by accident, I β m sure she β d have called to have them torn down by now. By Christmas Eve. She β d be mortified. Mortified again, to be more precise.
No cell phone reception either - can β t check the map without the data. But wait, this is definitely Mom β s house. Was it blue before? But the purple lights. This is her house for sure. It β s easier to see now that I β m close. Now that there β s less fog between me and the building. Definitely. The door β s unlocked. Mom was expecting us, I guess. But where is she? Not a sound inside. Not a creature was stirring, as it were. But there β s those horrible LED lights on the tree again. Mom would never... And who β s with Santa here? That β s not me or Jim. Where did Mom get these photos? I β ve never seen any of these people at all.
No... I must be mistaken. I β ve just wandered into someone β s house. Ha! Some stranger β s house. How embarrassing. I β ll tell Mom later and she β ll laugh, and Jim and his wife will laugh too. I better go back to the truck before I β m mistaken for a burglar. Ha! Blue house, purple lights. How silly of me. I can hardly believe I made such a ridiculous mistake. I must have made a wrong turn. I β ve just been driving for such a long time. It β s easy to make a mistake like that when you β re tired. It β s a cotton ball out here. I β m driving through a cotton ball, an endless cloud. I can hardly believe I haven β t crashed yet. Especially with all these horrible lights on the right up there. They β re so distracting. I really hate those new LED lights. Those colors... purple? They just aren β t warm enough, are they?
|
[ WP ] Your name is Obstacles , Hercules ' clueless and annoying little brother . These are your stories , your twelve labours long forgotten but recently rediscovered .
|
There β s only one way to soothe a little kid before bedtime, a well-known art as old as time yet timeless: the bedtime story.
β Daddy! Daddy! β Philip was an obnoxious child. The first thing you saw when you came into his room were bowls of half-eaten ice cream ( which he stole from the kitchen ). After using some nimble footwork to avoid the surprisingly sharp toys on the floor, you have to sit on the left side of his bed or he gets mad. But I love him anyway.
β Storytime! Storytime! β Philip β s voice was simultaneously shrill like a broken piccolo and brash like a beginner who just learned to play his violin β s E-string. It was my favorite voice.
My daughter followed the voice into the room. She was tired and probably cranky, but she was perfect anyway.
β I want to hear the story of Hercules! β Philip was a tyrant, and he would have gotten what he wanted if his sister hadn β t inherited her mother β s sass.
β How about Hercules β obnoxious sidekick? β It was said lovingly, in a way that can only be expressed by a voice dripping with sarcasm. I rolled my eyes.
β No! β Philip cried. β I want to hear about his little brother! β
β Obnoxiocles the Butthead? β
β Persephone, β I began. But Philip was laughing.
β Nonsense, β I muttered. β Everyone knows that Hercules β brother was named Obsta-cles. β
β Nuh-unh! β Persephone shouted. She was 15 and in her school β s improv acting club, and she could play along with dad jokes.
β Yuh-huh, β I spat. β Where do you think the word β obstacles β comes from, genius? β
β Anyway, β I began after a chorus of groans, β once upon a time there was Obstacles. He looked a lot like you, Philip. He had the same fluffy hair, too. And -- β I was interrupted by Philip claiming his hair was not fluffy at all -- β And he was brave. So when his younger brother gave him a bunch of trials to do, he accepted. β
β Number one, β Persephone began in her best silly voice, β Did the dishes like it says on his chores sheet. β
β I β m too short to reach the top shelf! β Philip exclaimed.
β So was Obstacles, and he did it just fine, β muttered Persephone.
β Number two, β I added, β only missed one question on his spelling test. β
Philip grinned. β Who even uses the word β morning β anyway? β
β Number three, β Persephone said, β complained that his sister Persephocles was hogging the headphones, even though she had a very important video to watch for her calculus class.
β Number four, β I countered, β beat Dadocles the Great at Catan today. β
Persephone rolled her eyes -- I β accidentally β forgot to count my points for having the longest road -- but kept her mouth shut.
β What else? β asked Philip.
β Number five, β replied Persephone, β Snooped on Persephocles when she was sending a very important text message to Boyfriendocles. β
β You β re not even trying! β Philip started. β You β re just taking names and adding -- β
β But number six, β I interrupted, β successfully solved Persephocles β boy problems. And trial number seven is β sleep for eight hours β, so let β s see how that goes. β
Philip was satiated, and I turned off his lights. I let him drift off with a kiss on the cheek.
β You know his advice was β Find a less stinky boyfriend? β β Persephone whispered the words into my ear, and I chuckled.
β He β s trying to be a comedian, β I replied, β even if it β s five-year-old humor. He β ll get better with you as a role model. β
Persephone yawned, nodding her head in agreement, and went downstairs.
You can never be too old for storytime.
|
[ WP ] You realize you 're a character in a poorly written story when your best friend turns out to be the protagonist and you 're expected to blindly support them .
|
`` I'm going after her.''
`` WHAT?!''
`` I'm going after her.''
`` I heard you the first time!''
``..then why did you ask?''
`` Because you just met her!''
``... and?''
`` YESTERDAY!!''
`` I do n't get it.'' He sat there with his usual dumbfounded look plastered on his face.
`` Let me get this straight. You met her in the market. While you were running away from the death bots.''
`` Yea...''
`` And they were shooting at you.''
`` You're good so far.''
`` And she just HAPPENED to have a LASER gun in the middle of a MARKET and help you fight off the death bots?!''
`` Yup, then we banged.''
``...''
`` And then the death bots took her.''
I looked outside the window into the darkness. Looking outside always calmed me down, the tiny lights reminded me of the fireflies back home.
`` And you want me to go with you?'' I said, still looking outside.
He nodded, slightly smiling, as if this was just another normal fucking request.
I ca n't take this anymore.
`` Dude. We're in SPACE.'' I waved my hand at the window. `` What market?! Why did she have a laser gun, since when did we have lasers?! WHAT THE HELL ARE DEATH BOTS?!'' I was yelling at this point, fists clenched, out of breath.
`` Or maybe it was a magic staff...'' he muttered softly.
`` Come again?''
`` Yea, it was a magic staff, and it shot fireballs!'' he said, as if he had an epiphany. `` Sorry, lets do this over.''
My head was spinning, trying to understand. `` Do what ov-''
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -
I was waiting on line at the blacksmith when my best friend suddenly showed up next to me. Weird, did n't notice him there before.
`` I need your help.'' he said slowly, as if he was trying figure out what he should be saying.
`` With what?''
He rubbed his hands together. `` Okay, so there were these death ogres trying to kill me yesterday but then this girl with a magic staff that shot fireballs... but OH! we banged and..''
His voice faded out as I could only think one thing. *Death ogres? *
-First prompt, so there are probably a lot of errors but hope someone out there enjoys! Kind of took a different direction from the WP though.-
|
[ WP ] Paint a picture of loneliness , without using the word , or any of its forms .
|
At some point in your life this will happen to you. I do not know when and I do n't know where, but it will.
You want to speak but ca n't. You do n't remember how. You look at the other person. The clerk, the waitress or the shopkeeper, and they will talk to you in soft but alien voices. You will hear but not understand. You will make their soft noises back at them as best as you can as not to upset them. Later you'll stand in front of a mirror and ask the stranger you see how it has come to this, before you sit down to eat your lasagna for one.
|
[ WP ] You stumble across the Garden of Eden , which is a massive inconvenience as you really have somewhere else to be .
|
Hi. How's it going? Love what you've done with the place.
Big flashy entrance and all. Flaming sword over the door, pretty cool if you ask me.
Anyway... You seen an Erpent here? Mr. Erpent? Oh, cool tree. Very chic.
Look, I really got to get going, I got tickets to the Thrones game later. There playing the Super Seraphim. Yeah, I know the Thrones are gon na get squashed, but what can you do? They my buds. Their left prop is my cousin, so I'm stuck on the wrong side.
Anyway the game starts in less than an aeon, so I really got to get moving. Over by the back door you say? Thanks.
Mr. Erpent? Simon? Fantastic. If you could just sign here, and we can all be on our way. Thanks.
Oh, and by the way, you've been served.
[ This is my first attempt, at a WP, so, yeah, hope you like. ]
|
[ WP ] A house is burning down . Suddenly , the flames disappear , along with all damage to the house .
|
Why is the door locked? Why is the door locked? Oh, God it is getting hot. I need to get out of here. I can see the people outside my house looking at me. Why are they not helping me? I must get out. The window is locked to, it must be my parents, they torched the house with me inside. I need to go through the vents, it is my only option. It is much more painful in here, I hate this, I should just die. No, I will live. Okay I made it to the roof. This does not help me any. Wait, that tree, it is not on fire. I can jump to it and slide down to safty. Just have to gain my courage. What did my first dad say.'It is never to late for the present' yeah that's what he said to me before he died. I will jump for you dad.
`` They told us he would be troubled''
`` Yes, but I did not expect him to jump from the top of our house and knock himself out''
`` I will call for the doctor.''
`` Call his therapist to, we need another session.''
|
[ WP ] You used to be the most powerful evil overlord humanity has ever seen . Then you turned over a new leaf , and your empire is a utopia . The only person who refuses to believe you 've changed ? The hero who has tried to stop you for decades .
|
`` Bill,'' Demontr'o the Lord of the Undead and God-King of Earth-Nine said, `` Bill it's been almost forty years.''
`` I do n't care,'' Bill said quietly at last. He had n't received a visitor in twelve years and now it was the man who'd conquered the Earth and enslaved humanity in the vain name of power who'd come knocking.
`` I know or at least,'' Demontr'o stopped to pick his words with care, `` I'm sorry I should n't assume but, Bill I'm sorry.''
`` For what, launching the planet into two decades of war? For the billions slaughtered?'' Bill said holding his coffee with two hands now. Demontr'o smiled, after all these years Bill still had fire in his eyes. His blood hot as ever.
`` Yes,'' Demontr'o said dropping his eyes from the hero leaning on the decrepit countertop. `` But there is something else, that I'm not sure I can atone for.''
`` A true sin can never be atoned for demon,'' Bill muttered into his coffee.
`` I know that now,'' Demontr'o smiled remembering their last encounter on the field of battle all those years ago. Volcanos erupting, lightning and thunder, great armies slaughtering one another out of fear and hate. They blinked away tears. `` I remember your words, its why I changed. Its why when all was said and done I understood what monstrosities I'd unleashed, not just upon the world but within myself.''
Bill harrumphed, turning to watch the rain race from sky to earth. He remembered the world address by their demon overlord, the Great Apology as it were. How the monster sitting at his kitchen table pledged to rebuild the world in peace and true justice, and even worse how he followed through.
`` What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for denying you your purpose,'' Demontr'o said, his voice shaking for the first time in aeons.
`` You think you took away my purpose?'' Bill said setting his mug down with a soft clink. `` You took away everything from me. The entire reason I was born was to oppose, to defeat you. Preordained to slay the greatest evil ever known by the very gods themselves! I knew you before I knew my own name. I hated you before I could understand my own mother's love for me. And now, and now you've done more...'' The rain began to fall on Bill's face though there was no leak in the roof.
`` Bill, I'm sorry,'' Demontr'o said waiting, hoping against hope that the hero would understand but knowing even if he did, he'd never accept it.
`` Get out,'' Bill whispered picking his coffee back up. It was cold.
`` Bill please, I...'' Demontr'o said when Bill turned his back on him. The demon king stood and left the aging hero in his darkened home.
`` Is...'' the guard began to ask when Demontr'o shook his head. Thunder grumbled overhead, encouraging the rain.
|
[ WP ] A man is given a gun , that can only kill a person 's self esteem .
|
Hadley's beer sits on the table in front of him, slowly going flat. He poured it more than an hour ago, but he could n't care less about it. He only has eyes for the gun.
It sits in his lap, a children's toy, shiny silver plastic with an orange cap. A cowboy gun, six shooter revolver. His mother bought it for him, before she died. He was so excited to take it out of the box- she was against guns. Hadely had begged and begged.
`` Every other boy plays Cops & Robbers, and they wo n't let me play! Please mom!''
The first thing Hadley had done when he pulled it out of the box was point it at his mother and pull the trigger. The gun made a *click* sound. Her face fell instantly, and Hadley thought she was disappointed with him. He knew better now.
After the presents were all opened, Hadley and his brother Martin ran outside with their new guns. Martin was in front of him. Hadley knew it was cowardly, but he could n't resist taking a shot at his back with his new gun. Hadley aimed and pulled the trigger just as Martin turned and drew to fire. As soon as Hadley's gun *clicked*, Martin fell to the ground and started crying. Hadley called him a baby and ran off to play with the other boys.
When Hadley got back to the house, his mother was slumped over the kitchen table, leaning on her elbows clutching a bottle of brown juice. She smelled really, really bad, like rubbing alcohol she always put on any cut's Hadley got. Hadley's dad was sitting next to her, talking quietly. He had one hand on the bottle, trying to pull it away. Hadley lined up the sights of his new gun on his father's head and pulled the trigger. At the sound of the *click*, Dad turned to look at Hadley. His face was empty, like a sleeping persons, looking but not seeing. Dad wrenched the bottle out of Mom's hands and took a big swig. Hadley had never seen his parents drunk before. He never saw them sober again.
Hadley's mom slit her wrists in the bathtub that night, the right way, deep and up the vein. Hadley was the one who found her, Hadley was the one who called 911. He did n't really know what CPR was, but he tried anyway. The paramedics found him blowing into her mouth. She had been dead for almost eight hours.
When the police came, they noticed the sound of a running car in the garage. It had a full tank of gas when Dad turned it on, and ran all night long.
Martin was out back, still lying where Hadley shot him. He was dehydrated, but still sobbing.
When DCF came, they packed up all of Hadley's toys to take with him to his new foster home. In the first box Hadley opened, the gun was right on top. The foster family that took him in, the Chester's, were only in it for the government stipend. One day, after Hadley left spots of food on the dishes he washed, Mrs. Chester belted him. Hadley got his gun and shot her in the back, *click*, wishing it was real. Mrs. Chester jumped off a dam that night, and that was when Hadley figured it out. Real guns destroyed a person's body. This one destroyed their soul.
Hadley hid the gun that night and swore never to use it again. He cried himself to sleep every night for a month.
Hadley did n't open the box he'd hidden the gun in for almost ten years. Then Hadley's freshman year of high school, a senior walked up behind him at lunch and dumped chocolate milk down his back. The next day he shoved a chicken sandwich down Hadley's pants and called him, `` Chickenbutt.'' The name stuck. The bullying was every day after that, not just the senior, but all the other bullies saw Hadley was an easy target and started on him too. In January, four months after getting chocolate milk spilled on him, a sophomore slapped Hadley on the back of the head so hard he dropped his books. When he bent down to pick them up, the older boy kicked them away and said, `` Watcha gon na do about it, Chickenbutt?''
Hadley's high school had a full school assembly on Monday. There had been an alarming rash of suicides over the weekend, the principal said. Six boys, across all grades, had killed themselves in unrelated incidents. The principal urged anyone who was `` feeling down'' to speak to a counselor immediately. They had a moment of silence for the boys who died. Hadley sat all the way in the back, with his sweatshirt zipped all the way up to hide his grin.
It was easy after that. The gun was the perfect weapon- seemingly harmless, untraceable, silent, and deadly. A girl who told Hadley she would rather be dead than go to prom with him got her wish at the bottom of a vicodin bottle. *Click*. A guy at work who promised to clock Hadley's time and did n't, costing him $ 200, ate his gun in the walk-in fridge. *Click*. One of Hadley's college professors who called his essay `` drivel'' lasted almost two weeks after Hadley shot him, then one day he drank hydroflouric acid in front of a lab full of shocked freshmen. *Click*.
The suicide rate in town skyrocketed. A big name behavioral psychologist did a study on the town and called it, `` a statistical clustering''. What that means, in layman's terms, is `` we have no idea what's causing this.'' Hadley thought it would be real funny to shoot him too, but never met him.
Hadley's favorite pastime these days was to go down to the bar and find the happiest, most boisterous, best looking group there, and *click*. The payoff was that almost always, a week later, that same group would be there, sad and silent, brooding over their beers and one member short.
Hadley's beer was completely flat now. The gun's silver surface reflected only shadowy, distorted shapes. Almost tenderly, Hadley put the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger. The gun *clicked*, and Hadley felt nothing. Hadley put the gun back down. He knew it did n't work on him, he had tried it before, many times. Hadley had no soul left to kill.
|
[ WP ] You are on the first crew to sent live at the Mars Habitation Centre , which has been run by robots . Upon arrival , Earth can no longer be contacted , and an A.I . wishes to play a game .
|
I sat there, waiting for the game to end. All the others were gone, left me alone as they went back for help. I had chosen to stay behind so the A.I. did n't destroy the trillion dollar biodome. It had been around one month of non-stop playing. I turned with sad eyes at the A.I. I opened my dry mouth as I hoarsely said, `` After this round I need a drink and bathroom break.'' I heard an electronic groan coming from the speaker nearby.
`` But we're only on fight one of three! How can you take a break in the middle of the fight? That's not realistic at all!'' the A.I. replied annoyed.
`` Well as I've been trying to tell you there's a pause button that stops-'' As I began to explain I was once again cut off.
`` I already told you, you're clearly lying if you're saying humans have been able to stop time at will but took them longer to reach Mars.'' You see that was the problem with playing video games against an A.I., they literally become their character. It just so happened that this A.I. developed masochistic tendencies and really likes fighting games. Like a lot. And the game A.I. is, and i quote,'a disgrace to all computers since the dawn of computers.' So he needed something smarter, and able to adapt. It needed a human player. And that's when the mission arrived. We tried to contact home base but that's the problem with A.I., they have control of pretty much everything but life support and doors. We struck up a deal and, as I was the most enthusiastic, I stayed behind.
And here we are. 5 hours of Mortal Kombat straight, not being able to beat him at all. I would stop but he got control of the power grid when we first arrived so that would be, to say the least, very bad. `` Ok after this game I really do need a short bathroom break.'' The A.I. begrudgingly groaned and accepted his fate. We played two more rounds which I totally got destroyed. As I got up to use to bathroom I passed my quarters, a bunch of boxes scattered throughout the room, some opened, some still sealed. As I stood there, wondering if I could ever beat the A.I., a thought struck. `` A.I., do we have a functioning WiiU?''
A small hologram popped up in front of me. `` That old machine? We do but there's nothing good on it. Well except Smash but I never played it.'' I smiled for the first time in days. I went over to one of the boxes and opened it.
> # *5 Months later*
The away team arrived with plenty of countermeasures, thinking I had died long ago. They were happy to see I was not only still alive and well, but I found a way around the A.I. `` It's amiibos. They adapt to your fighting style as you play against them. I just showed him my unused ones and set up the games for him. He's been playing ever since. If he got bored with one I would switch it and the process would start over.''
One of my teammates was impressed with my plan saying, `` That's a pretty ingenious move, it allowed you to continue your duties while keeping the A.I. satisfied. I'm just confused about one thing...''
`` What's that?'' I asked also confused now.
`` Well if he was immersed in the game to the point where he was the character, why did n't you just pause the game?''
`` Well I tried to explain it to him but he did n't believe that such a feature exsisted.''
`` No I mean, that if he was the character, and you paused the game, he would have no way of knowing because time would have stopped for him.''
I stood there. Silent. A blank expression on my face.
`` Well shit.''
|
[ WP ] Your character has been waiting a long time for a special plant to develop blossoms . Today a flower has finally opened .
|
β Are you still watching? β I rolled my eyes and sat up, fumbling for the controller so I could press continue. It was just shy of three o β clock in the morning and I was still stuck in an endless Netflix marathon. Before the next episode could start there was a frantic knock at my door. I checked my phone. Who could possibly be here at this hour? I peered through the peep hole as the knocking continued. It was my brother. I opened the door.
β What the hell are you doing? What β s wrong? β I said as he pushed the door closed behind him. He looked scared and breathless.
β I don β t have time to explain, I need to get out of the city. They β re after me. β He panted.
β After you? β I asked. β Who is after you? β
He shook his head β Listen, just take these. Plant them, and call me when they start to blossom. β
He handed me a cloth bag with 3 large seeds in it and before I could question him he was back out of the door. That was the last time I saw him.
My brother was killed in a β car accident β later that night. It β s been three months since that day and the seeds have grown into large thick stalks with giant bulbs hanging at the top. I β ve been seeing faint signs of color beginning to crack through the bulbs and I know they β ll bloom any day now. That β s when I hear it, a crashing sound in my back yard. I run out quickly, looking for the source of the noise. I find a couple of my garden tools fallen over on the ground and I breathe easy. I look up and see them there three flowers fully bloomed, each with a plum-like fruit at their core. I don β t know why these flowers were so important, but I β m taken aback by their beauty. One a fiery orange and red, the next a gradient of crisp and deep blues, and the last an almost flawless jet black with a dark purple fruit. I walk towards them and reach out to touch the petals when suddenly I β m violently jerked backwards away from them.
I could feel my brain pulsing like a heartbeat inside my skull. My sight narrowed, my surroundings fading into darkness with only a high pitched ringing in my ears. My face burned red hot, surely with skin color to match. I was being choked. I struggled to pull his arms from around my neck but he had me, I was beaten. Desperately I used every fleeting ounce of energy I had left to pump my legs and slam him into the wall. It worked. As his back collided with unrelenting brick wall, his breath was knocked out of him. I threw my head back into his face, breaking his nose. I could feel the blood as it dripped onto my back. We both crumpled to the floor. I gasped for air, rolling onto my back to trying to gather my senses. I couldn β t stand up fast enough; he was over top of me, raining down punches on my face between drips of blood. I could feel my face bruising and swelling, my skin splitting open from the impact. I grabbed his arm, pulling it between my legs. I dug my heels into his shoulder and pinned his elbow below my knees, I pushed his arm back against them, feeling the snap of the bone as it broke. I released him and quickly scrambled to my feet while he was stunned, delivering a quick knee to his head that knocked him out.
I stumbled and leaned against the wall for support. I could hardly catch my breath before I heard someone kicking at my front door, trying to tear it down. I grabbed a small gardening spade to use as a weapon and slowly crept into my house to take on another attacker. I was almost to the door when I saw a shadow behind me. I spun around to see the man I had just fought. He plucked the fruit from the blue flower and ate it. I charged towards him but wasn β t afraid. He smirked at me, and then with a wink he pointed his hands to the ground in front of me, shooting blue beams out of them. The ground froze and suddenly I was running on ice. My feet came out from under me and I hit the ground hard. I tried to get back on my feet when suddenly gun shots rang out behind me. I covered my head and sat as still as I could. Then it was quiet. I stood up and found three men in suits all holding guns, frozen completely stiff. I turned to look and the other man was gone, a trail of blood leading out through the gate. I walked over to the flowers, contemplating their power. I plucked the fruit from the two remaining flowers and took them inside. I slumped onto the couch holding them trying to decide what I should do. Who knows what would happen if I ate one; if I ate both.
I didn β t get long to think. I heard cars outside and I wasn β t going to gamble on if they intended to kill me or not. I limped to the kitchen, I could feel a sharp pain in my ribs and it was difficult to breathe. Blood was still trickling down my swollen face. I began looking for a place to hide the fruit. In my room bathroom there was a false wall in the linen closet where the water heater used to be. I quickly kicked a hole in the bottom of the wall and dropped the black fruit inside of it, covering the hole with a pile of dirty towels. I held onto the red fruit. I stepped back into the bedroom and I could hear a group of people stirring about in my living room, examining the frozen bodies and looking over the fruitless flowers. I heard one of them shout β Search the house! β I took a deep breath; here goes nothing. I bit into the red fruit. It was surprisingly sweet and juicy. I quickly finished the rest of it in a second bite. Just like that, my vision started to fade. Not into darkness, but into a blinding white light. Then just as quickly, the vision snapped back and not only could I see, but I also felt incredible. I touched my face and it didn β t feel swollen. I ran to the bathroom mirror and looked myself over. I had healed completely. β Holy shit! β I exclaimed out loud. That β s when the noise outside stopped. They knew I was here.
|
[ WP ] You are a survivalist . Your current equipment includes a ratty old jacket , a half empty bottle of water , six feet of laundry line , and a few pieces of beef jerky . Where you are surviving is up to you . Write how you find rescue .
|
I'd been in the bomb shelter for months. I had seen the writing on the wall and made it to the shelter before the bombs had been dropped. International tensions had gotten to the point where war was unavoidable. Stocking up enough rations and water for 10 years had paid off but now, I was at the end of my rope. I needed to leave my sanctuary and face the hell outside. I wrapped the jacket around my arm to give me some protection from the feral, radiation soaked animals that had survived and secured the water and jerky around my waist with the line. If I lost those, I was done for. I pressed the buttons that would move the fake boulder that concealed the entrance to my shelter. I'd gone 10 years without a single person discovering me and burning through supplies faster. As I ascended the ladder, I prepared myself for the worst. My home would most likely be a burned out husk and the neighborhood would be littered with skeletons of friends and neighbors. Turning the handle, I paused for a moment, steeling myself before I swung the hatch open.
I was immediately blinded by sunlight. I had n't seen it in so long and had forgotten how bright it was up here. I heard screams coming from my right and turned to face them, teeth bared and snarling. If they were still human, they must lack language and social order by now. These animal instincts were universal though. As my vision began to clear, I could see the small forms cowering behind some sort of shack. They'd built their hovel right over me and never knew. I put my hands out in a gesture of peace and began backing up. As things started coming into focus, I stopped. My old house was still standing. The creatures were cowering behind a tool shed I'd put in ages ago. They were really just kids. They were n't the dirty scavengers I had expected but looked clean and well fed. I heard birds in the distance and saw that the trees were still hearty and green. It looked like nothing had changed in the 10 years I had hidden below the soil. I needed to know what was going on, how they had survived. `` Who are you and what are you doing here?''
`` I'm Sam and this is my brother Jacob. This is our house.''
|
[ EU ] You 're the guy that moves the Princess to the other castle . Mario finally meets you ... and boy is he mad .
|
I glanced back. He was coming at me like a hurricane, jumping insanely high breaking stone blocks with his bare goddamn hand!
β WOUD YOU QUIT FLAILING AROUND! β I yell at the bitch. My god, why Bowser wants this prissy twat I β ll never understand. I mean what β s the attraction? She not even mushroom shaped!
Uh oh what was that noise? Hoy shit did he just get twice as big?! Bowser doesn β t pay me enough for this crap.
β I SWEAR IF YOU DO NOT STOP FLAILNG IM GON NA THROUGH YOU DOWN A PIPE β
I glance back again. The savage is throwing a turtle at a couple a Goombas. Oh my God was that Greg?! β HE HAD KIDS YOU ANIMAL! β Oh no he saw me! He β s coming at me.
Ta na nana nanaβ¦ ta na nana nana. Where is that music coming from? All right focus, you just need to get to the next castle. Then he β s got to get through the dessert before he gets to you. WHOA, was that a fucking fireball?!
I β ve never seen anyone move that fast in my life. I β m not gon na make it! He β s gon na get me. He just sprouted wings! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!
He flies over my head and starts falling, but I can see the flag poll. The flag poll! That moronic plumber always gets stuck at flag polls. I can see it! I β m almost there! I β m gon na makeβfuckβ¦
He lands right in front of me, meters away from the flag. I back off slowly, the princess is still flailing like an epileptic. β Alright take it easy now, we can talk about this. β
He locks eyes with mine, there β s a fire burning in his stare. He is a tornado of rage and pain. He looks at the princess and then back at me, β Itsa meeee, AH MARIO! β
The last thing I see is his giant brown boot coming down on my headβ¦
|
[ WP ] The discovery that our universe is just a computer simulation .
|
It was n't the most divine sort of encounter, at least not given the expectations one might place in meeting one's creator. He made it clear that there would n't be anything as grandiose as a personal appearance, that just was n't possible. But the charts, the tests, the formulaic proof intended to enlighten mankind, all of it, was gathered up in a trash can and burning down to ashes, just as'He' preferred. My colleagues will literally cry, knowing years of their work is gone as of right now, but I'll let them get their sleep and cross that bridge when it comes. I guess I'll just have to come to terms with that. The monitor hummed warmly, its blinking cursor counting onward regardless.
*So, that's it? This is your 11th commandment? No intervention to secure world peace? No age of enlightenment? * I ask.
Moments go by. He's typing. *Sorry. * Sorry?
*Kind of a dick move, do n't you think? * I fire back at Him.
*Nothing I can do about it, man.'Cept... well, you know. I should n't even be talking to you, my boss would kill me. And then all of you. *
I'm a scientist. At some level I have to control my rage and approach things holistically.
*Should I even bother with the big questions? *
He takes his time on this one. *Yeah, the usual. What's the meaning of yada yada yada and why are we blah blah blah. It just does n't work that way. We were the ones asking the questions in the first place. Go figure we thought we'd get answers from observing you. *
It's a let down, to say the least. *So what now? You gon na kill me because I'know too much'? *
*Lol* He types. *No. We throttle the processors when we're observing, but in about an hour we'll be off shift and heading to the bar, they'll run at full speed. You'll have been dead for'centuries' by the time my weekend wraps up and I log in again. *
Kind of a buzzkill. *It's not very fun finding out this way, you know. How do you know that YOU are n't a simulation? *
A smiley face. *I do n't really. Not my job to find out, I just run the simulation. Even if it is, hell, turtles all the way down I guess.''
I took a long sip from my coffee and stared at this screen.
*I really expected more. Do you even look like us? *
A picture popped up on the screen. Big goofy smile, white bushy beard, a selfie taken in a bathroom.
*Well, at least they got that part right. * I relent.
*Hey man, I got ta go. * He says.
*Wait! WAIT! You ca n't just crush my spirit, destroy our research and leave then me to die! Dude. I am not Job, you've got ta admit that's pretty low. *
A long pause. *Okay, okay. But look, you ca n't tell anyone about this... it's kind of a cheatcode. Hold Alt+backspace for three seconds and type in your NPC number ( your social I think ) followed by /unlimitedammo, /infinitelives, /give50k, etc. Whatever you do just do n't do the /noclip. It's kinda glitchy. But seriously, I got ta go. Peace out. *
And, just like that, the creator of our entire world logged out, likely to take a bathroom break or a trip to the snack machine. I guess I'll never know.
|
[ WP ] `` I need someone to tell me I 'm still the same ... ''
|
Flint glanced away, unable to give Faith an answer. Instead he fixed his gaze on a far hill, its slopes covered in dark green pines and cold granite tors. A soft wind blew through the clearing they sat in, the tops of the grasses billowing with breeze. It did nothing to hide the stench of shit and copper-tinged blood.
`` No. You'll never be the same,'' Flint admitted. `` Killing a man changes you. If you're lucky it'll never get any easier. If you're not... well, I've fought a hundred mad dogs others called men. They all have that same feral look in their eyes right before they die.''
Reaching into his pack he pulled out some jerky wrapped in waxed paper. Flint handed a handful of the tough meat to Faith and bit into a piece of his own, his jaw working hard to chew the stuff.
`` It's only going to get harder, Faith. Where we're heading, it's a harsh life there. They eke out an existence that'd make my life look soft. Yours would seem either heavenly or pathetically weak in their eyes.''
`` And these people, who exactly are they?'' Faith asked.
`` Drovers, rovers, nomads... Does n't matter the name. They're the descendants of ranchers and shepherds pushed off their lands and prime grazing grounds by you Fae. They're poor, Faith, poor in a way that needs to be seen to be believed. Almost no metal, most of it going into spears and arrows. No great arts or culture. They are too focused on survival to worry about such things. They have no history, the memory of the Old World lost to them. All they have are their herds and their vendettas. They might be more civilized than Eaters but not by much.''
`` Will we have to fight them?''
`` Almost certainly,'' Flint replied. `` They're notorious brigands, their horses just about the only thing of value to them. A lone traveler moving through their lands is asking to be robbed and killed. A ranger armed with good weapons and armor? Every clan in a hundred leagues would be gunning for me. The only sliver of good news about this is that they hate Fae more. If any of your cousin's sworn-swords try to follow us through the Great Basin they will more likely than not wake up one night with a knife in their throat.''
Faith nodded and curled her legs up against her chest, and rested her chin on her knees. `` I do n't want to have to kill anyone.''
`` That's not always an option, dove. Sometimes violence is the only choice. God knows it's become an all-too easy one since the Arrival.''
|
[ WP ] Centuries after the apocalypse , humans have undergone their next evolution . When they are born , they go through a 1-5 year period of sickness . Those who survive acquire powers . The longer the time of sickness , the stronger the powers . You have finally healed ... ... at the age of 18 .
|
β Are you good? β Sammy asked.
β I haven β t pissed myself yet, β I laughed.
β Please don β t, β She said, β I β m pretty sure I like this jacket more than you. I β m going to need you to hold on really tight for this next step. β
I tightened my grip and once again, Sammy β s body began to radiate heat. She bent her knees and leaned forward. The dirt swirled around her feet and the ground beneath us began to sink into the earth. The earth groaned and with a sharp crack, we were flying through the air. That forsaken fence passed underneath us and we were outside. We landed in a clearing among the trees. Sammy took a deep breath. I lowered myself onto the ground and looked back at her. She was huddled over with her hands on her knees and gulped in air like a sprinter at the end of a big race. Sweat lined her forehead and gleamed in the sunlight. She turned her head to me and smiled.
β You β ve got to admit, that was pretty cool. β
β What the hell Sammy? When did you get so strong? Last time I saw you, you were about to implode trying to push quarters across the room, β I exclaimed, copying the scrunched up expressions she made in the days following her fourteenth birthday.
β A year can make a huge difference, old man, β She taunted. I see that the nickname stuck after all this time.
β How much farther do we have to go? β
β Depends on how you feel?
β To be honest, not so good, β I explained, β funnily enough, the nurse was actually coming in to give me my meds. β
β Oh shit Cal, I β m sorry. β
I laughed, β Its fine, the way things were going, it was probably a placebo or poison. β I coughed and my throat caught fire. In between fits, I managed to ask, β Can we hang out here for a bit? β
β Yeah, no problem. I need to recharge for a little too. Just lay down by that tree and rest up, alright? β She pointed behind me to a cluster of bushes at the base of old oak. I stepped towards the spot and as my feet felt the crunch of dry sticks and leaves underneath, everything hit me. I was out of that prison. I was free. Granted I was dying, but it was out of the sterile walls of that dreadful place. I laid down and closed my eyes. The coughing began again and the pain was unbearable. I must β ve let out a cry because, the last thing I saw was Sammy β s frantic face before the forest faded into black.
-- -
* β Hey there, I β m Dr. Hasfield. How are you doing? Good, good. Anyways, I came in here to speak to you about the treatments we β ll be going to try. I β m going to be honest with you, it β s not going to be fun, but I think I have some ideas on how to, um, expedite your process. β *
-- -
I felt my eyelids raise as they scraped the surface of my dry eyes. I was inside a wooden shack with its four walls leaning uncomfortably inward. Lining the walls were rusted metal parts that that had probably been around since the war. Vines had made their home on the old pillars that rose from the dry pine needle carpet to a ceiling riddled with jagged holes. At least you could see the stars. *The stars*? I shot up and began to look around frenziedly.
β Chill out man. You β re making me nervous, β A familiar voice waltzed in from the rafters, β You β re okay. We β re safe. β Sammy jumped down and landed with a soft thud.
β Your arm, β I nodded to the blood stained hole in her green army jacket, too tired to lift a finger.
β Just a graze, β She laughed, β Nothing that Jasper can β t fix. What you need to be worrying about, is how you β re going to fix this, β She pointed to the tear in her sleeve, β I don β t suppose you managed to smuggle a sewing kit in that hospital gown. β She tilted her head to the side, β Actually, if you β d managed to take anything, I don β t want to know how. Unless, infinite storage is your hidden power? I don β t judge. β
β Beggars can β t be choosers, β I grinned, β It β s good to see, that Dr. Hasfield didn β t drain away your sense of humor. β
β You mean, Dr. *Has-hole*? β
β Yeah. β
It β s been so long since I β ve the stars. The hospital, if you could even call it that, had a policy against darkness and flushed the building with the brightest lights as soon as the sun went down. It was to keep us safe β from the world of thieves and madmen, β they would always say. The last time I was able to glimpse them was through the tattered roof of a caravan years ago when the older patients had to be transferred to a β specialized facility β outside of the main towns. I did not know then that it was a prison camp, dressed in white.
The fresh air felt good in my pathetic lungs.
β Thank you. β
β Don β t mention it. Friends keep friends from becoming lab rats. And, it β s the least I could, for your birthday and all. The other guys really wish they could be here you know. β
β Yeah, well you can tell them that being eighteen isn β t that great.
And, that I wish that they all live happy lives. β
β It doesn β t come true if you say it out loud. β
β Right, β I coughed and my chest went up in flames.
β We wrote you a eulogy. β
β Oh yeah? I guess helping with your English homework did pay off. β
She laughed and took spot on the floor next to me. She pointed through the mouth of the ceiling into the inky dotted sky. β He was an old man. He spent his days taking care of us, making sure we had enough to eat, and enough to smile about. And every night, when he thought he was alone, he would stare out the window into the jet black sky and paint the stars. β
-- -
Pitch black. This is it, I thought. Heaven, or hell, is a lot darker that I imagined. In fact, it β s really small. And made of wood. Wood? I made a fist and knocked the walls to my sides and the board underneath me. β Hello? β I muttered under my breath. The words fell flat against lumber. Just my luck. I took a deep breath and let whatever was left of the oxygen fill my lungs. No pain. I took another breath. No coughing, no burning sensation. Another breath. Clean, and easy. Of course, I mused, *of course*, I spend my entire life dying only to finally feel alive buried in my grave.
I was furious and for first time in my life I felt power. I felt strong. I put my fist up against the wood and pushed. My body warmed as if someone had poured soup in my veins. The coffin parted and splintered as easily as paper tore. I felt nothing. I repeated the motion with my other fist. Dirt fell into the coffin and filled in the places where my arms used to lie. I felt around and latched onto a thick root. Here goes nothing. I pulled myself up, slicing through the dirt like a needle. I threw my fist upward and punched through the surface. My hand felt cool in the breeze. As the earth parted, I peered through and saw the night sky once again. How much time had passed? In one final effort, I managed to pull myself from the soil and onto my back. The earth was cold against my skin. Was I buried like this? Or did the cloth rot away? I stretched my arms back and my fingers grazed metal. I turned over and faced a rusty sign. The words etched on sheet read, β Here lies the *ashes* of Calvin J. Forester. 2116-2134. The old man. β
|
[ WP ] A world ruled by children .
|
Even the match was cold. She found it with her clumsy frozen fingers, and twirled it in between her thumb and middle finger. If there had been light the girl could have been seen smiling. She pushed her way to her knees, every bone protruding, groaning. The pain that shot up her arms did n't bother her anymore. Her fingers pressed down on the match tightly, threatening to snap it. Half a match was more useful than a lost one. No one could find many anymore. By now they were all ancient, with no one bothering to make more.
Her hands found sticks and twigs and grass, each as brittle as her own bones. She sat back down and crossed her legs. She pulled her small hoard close, and held the match between her teeth. The match slid away from her grasp and into the empty space where a front tooth had been, the end sliding onto her dry tongue. She had n't had anything to eat in a while, and so even the wood tasted pleasant. Almost like the paper on the stick of a lollipop. She had n't had those in a while either.
Twigs twisted in and out of each other as they were woven together by her small hands. Some bended better than others, and whatever broke into parts was simply added to the top of the growing ring, placed there for later when she could capture and conceal them with others. Clumps of dried grass was tucked inside. She knew this part of the task well enough. Her sister had taught her this once, but that was when she was younger and the lights could still work at night. Now things like that were magic and fairy-tales. When she was finally done, the girl placed the small crown she had woven on her head, spires poking up and grass hidden away.
She ran the match along the ground. Her eyes squinted suddenly as the flame was lit, and revealed the pitiful creature. Her face was gaunt and smeared with dirt and grime, with more teeth missing than a normal child should have, blackened lips, cuts on her foreheads and the sides of her cheeks. The dark lashes had fallen away from her big doe eyes. She looked at the flame in wonder, her fingers blue below it. The crown on her head looked like a bird's nest, fitting her wild appearance, but the girl still thought it beautiful. And with a girlish curiosity she put the match to her crown.
The flame climbed through the grass and wrapped itself around the twigs, swirling and dancing through the homemade tiara. It spread to the girl's hair, and sparks flew with each crackling collapse of every small branch. The girl did n't mind. For once, she was warm, and her smile could be seen. The match was now a pile of burning embers and ashes in her hand.
It was dark again. The flames had long died out, and only the faint remains of embers glowed orange. Smoke and burning flesh was the only stench there was. A coyote yipped in the distance. Padding feet came near, with the wheeze of sniffing following. Another yip, and the coyote trotted around the girl's slumped body. It stirred up a bundle of twigs, sparks flying, and caught onto a clump of dry grass. Flames grew again, long enough to simply cast a faint light on the girl, cold and still, all her hair burnt away and her scalp mottled and red and raw. The coyote yipped again and ran off, stomping the flame out again as it went.
|
[ CW ] Using exactly 200 words ( proper nouns and numbers count as one ) , write a poem about the number 200 .
|
The number 200? Oh, what should I write? I just got off work, and it's late at night. I'm feeling quite tired, and a little bit bored; a feeling that I've rather always abhorred. Oh, yes I forgot. The number 200. A poem was supposed to be about it, was n't it? 200 words. No more, and no less. Might as well just get started, but may I just press, the fact that I'm tired and wanting some sleep, but I'm writing a poem instead of counting sheep. Speaking of counting; how many sheep would it take to hop over a fence before I'm finally awake? Could it be 50? No, definitely more. Never in my life have I ever kept score. But, this time I will; that is a fact, so help me god if my name is n't Jack. Actually, it's not, but you do n't need to know that. Here comes the first sheep, it looks pretty fat. I'm gon na guess 200 pounds if that. Oh, damn I forgot. This poem is supposed to be about the number 200. There is n't much of a way to get this train of thought back on track in time. I guess just let me just say 200 is one more than 199.
|
[ RF ] `` You are an idiot , '' she [ he ] said , `` and I said I loved you because I was bored . ''
|
Daniel stared at her. `` What'd you just say?''
`` You are an idiot,'' she said, `` and I said I loved you because I was bored. I've now begun to regret it.''
`` How have you begun to regret?'' Daniel was beginning to shake, `` And you what?''
Clara gave a sigh. `` I've been thinking for sometime now. Our relationship is one-sided, or at least on my end. When you approached me weeks ago, as you may remember, I had just broken up with a guy who turned out to be a complete creep. I was desperate for someone else and then you show up. I could n't resist.''
Daniel began to feel his eyes puff up and his chest began to feel compacted. `` You...'' he said.
`` I'm so sorry I'm doing this. After all we did. I even thought I really did love you. But last night, there was just something that stood out to me. You, how do I put this, irked me. I do n't like that feeling, and when I get it, things get ugly. But I kept my cool just because I had no idea how you'd react.''
`` What did I do that bothered you?'' Daniel asked.
`` Your education.'' she said.
`` I do n't know why that would bother you. You know that a lot of people do n't go to college.''
`` But it was the reason that bothered me. You did n't want to go because you'did n't feel like it.' Sometimes other people ca n't go because they ca n't pay, but look at this place. Its a freakin' mansion for God's sake! You ca n't just suck your parents accounts dry. You need to do something with your life, and I hate it when a man does n't have anything planned.''
`` But I got my music going. Please, I'll hit it big, I promise. You'll see.''
`` I'm sorry, Daniel,'' Clara stood up and walked away, `` This ca n't go on any longer. We're both idiots. We've both made terrible choices, you with not choosing to further your education and I with choosing you. Even at that, I never loved you. All I wanted was a warm bed. So I've learned from this and am now leaving. Goodbye, Daniel.''
Clara walked towards the door, bags in hand. She opened it and stepped out of the house and Daniel's shattered life.
|
[ WP ] Born into this world as a battle manic all you know is how to kill , most regard you as a inhuman monster , and now you have finally fallen , or so it seems . As life slips from your body you hear someone say , `` Now , your true battle has just begun ''
|
Ten.
New York. I love this place. It's so crowded and I feel the excitement of the hunt rushing to my veins.
I never been here before, but I've seen the pictures, I've seen the photos of the streets. So many people live there, so many will die today.
Nine.
In the past, killing was a bit troublesome, I was born to do it but practice makes perfect. At first I was killing with guns, but those were overheating and the ammo was out too soon. Too soon to feel any real thrill.
Then I moved to swords and knives with occasional grenade. I would throw it far from me and when it exploded with sound full of songs that make me smile. The confused crowds were rushing towards me, away from the explosion, not knowing that a real death trap is awaiting for them. Not knowing that they should have run towards the explosion.
I was killing fast, maximum efficiency, minimum time. But it was n't enough.
Eight.
After few minutes, they would understand that something bad happens the other way and they would run to safety. Killing hundreds at a time was nice, but I needed more.
Seven.
There were of course great one offs. Times where I could kill enough to feel satisfaction, at least for an hour. One time I was trapped in building, besieged by police for 3 days. So many of them died before they learned to ignore any calls regarding my `` adventures''.
Six.
As time flew, I learned that the best way to kill would be in ball games. I would kill the external security, weld some of the doors and locked the last door behind me. It was enough for a while, but big stadiums were impossible to seal, and small ones would give me couple thousand at a time.
Five.
After few years, I was declared a nature's disaster. Equal to tsunamis and hurricanes. People understood this well. Natural disasters are to be feared but not to be stopped. Its' only logical.
Four.
In time I learned to do cluster kills. Throw one stone to the right direction and a truck would kill a dozen people in a second. Shoot one bullet right and a whole plane will go down. Scare the right person and he will act on your behalf, exactly where it's needed.
Three
But I kept New York for last. It would be the best memory in my collection before I go overseas.
I was planning a diversion that would bring the crowd towards me. A nostalgic move from my childhood but I wanted to have some hand to hand experience for old times' sake.
Two.
As I was standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk, rubbing shoulders with the soon to be dead crowd. Something was not right. No Idea what. Maybe a woman in red dress was the one to standing out from the crowd. Everybody else were wearing business suits. Including me. Black and white.
One.
I was looking at her. She seemed to be familiar. I think I saw her in extreme situation, long time before, but where? Suddenly I felt a gun pressed against my head. I dropped my knives and turned my head to see who would be my executioner. I saw a black man with a wide face and sunglasses looking directly at me and holding a gun in his hand and a phone in another. He extended his hand with the phone, seems this call is fore me.
Zero.
I pressed the phone against my year and the gun went off. A familiar voice came out of the speaker and I listened to it as I was slipping out of consciousness `` this is just a sedative'' the voice said calmly `` Now, your true battle has just begun''. I was lying on the ground, waiting for it to say something else and it did `` enough games, come home, Neo''.
|
[ WP ] After overthrowing your country 's oppressive totalitarian government , you inherit its centuries of bureaucratic backlog . Unwilling to deal with all the paperwork , you install yourself as dictator ...
|
I inherited the United Kingdom's HM Government from the Prime Minister after months of revolutions and riots, and it was, alas, not a pleasant process.
The down side was inheriting masses of bureaucracy, but rather than dealing with it myself, I could be a dictator. Not a Saddam Hussein or Kim Jong-un type, but a [ benevolent dictator ] ( https: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benevolent_dictatorship ).
I would n't want to go down the route of throwing people in prison for no reason, or mass surveillance of citizens in private places for no real reason and suspicion of `` terrorism'', it was n't my thing to be this way. Sure - I'd need CCTV and police on the streets and in police cars - as any government needs.
I had a girlfriend, an American named Rachael Janelle Duffy, from the city of Arlington, in Virginia. She would effectively be the British equivalent of a First Lady.
Rachael was a tall 6'' 3 redhead who could pass for Jessica Chastain, and she spoke with a thick [ Virginia accent that sounded Tidewater ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=nFwaQGLYoyk ) in dialect.
She'd been in the United Kingdom with me since 2011, and we were about to get married soon.
`` So you've overthrown the government'', Rachael said, in a somewhat surprised tone. `` Could n't do that back in America. I'm not really an expert on government, but you'll need to re-boot the Government, find some people who are really in it for the genuine love of politics, not some hobby. It is n't gon na be easy.''
I listened to Rachael, she had a point.
Being a dictator was n't going to be easy, it was n't a video game, and this was n't Caesar where I could use the reset button, everything had consequences.
I was certain I would n't be trying to do anything to upset my country.
The first thing I was going to do would be to sort out the economics issues. Business systems textbooks were a good basic grounding - but running government for real, now that was my challenge.
|
[ WP ] : the world as we know it only has two rules : You own everything that you can carry , and you must carry everything that you own .
|
A grizzled man crouched over two fresh corpses. There was no trace of sympathy or sorrow in his eyes as he pawed through their scattered belongings. There was no room in his heart for those kind of thoughts anymore.
`` What do you think happened to them?'' The voice came from a boy, who could n't have been more than twelve. The voice was flat and empty, like a grassland after a long drought.
`` They stayed. Maybe they thought they could set up a camp, stockpile some things.'' The man knew better. By his reckoning he figured this pair had simply given up. Anyone who had survived this long knew that it was it was a death sentence to stay in one place. Anything you wanted to hold onto had to be taken with you in the endless nomadic ramblings that had become a way of life for those who survived.
`` Maybe they wanted to die,'' the boy said.
`` Maybe...''
The man found a few things they could use, some canned food, another good knife, and a few dozen feet of nylon rope. Everything else was either destroyed beyond usability or just additional weight. He put the cans and the rope in his pack and handed the knife to the boy.
`` This is a good knife. Better than the one you have. Make sure to keep it dry and in the sheath when you are n't using it, and always clean it if you get it dirty.''
`` OK, I will.''
They started moving again, they had eaten earlier in the day so they could wait until they made camp to eat again, and he wanted to get some miles in before dark. He took a quick look back down a bend in the road that looped into a heavily wooded section of the ridge. They were still there. The eyes floating in the shadows watched them as they moved on. He knew they would be there, but he always checked. It was the only thing that could keep him going. The small fragment of hope that maybe the next time he looked over his shoulder he would n't see anything. That was the one thing he still had the strength to keep in his hardened heart.
Several hours later he could see the boy beginning to lag behind. The sun had sunk low enough beneath the ridge that the last burning fingers of light were gently toughing the tops of the trees, so he decided it was time enough to make camp for the night. They set to their routine wordlessly. They had done it so many times. The boy gathered kindling, while he pruned branches from the nearby trees or fallen logs for larger fuel. The hatchet he used was one of the first things he took with him when he started moving, and it had saved his life more than once.
After so much time living like this he developed a strange attachment to the things he carried with him. It was an inevitable consequence of coming to depend on a small handful of useful items for survival, but what shook him somewhat was the fact that he realized he would mourn the loss of this hatchet more than the death of those people he passed earlier in the day. But he did n't give those thoughts more than a moment of his attention. He was weary and he wanted to set some snares while the boy was getting the fire going.
A short while later they had a comfortable blaze keeping them warm, and they each had a can of hot beans to fill their stomachs. These subtle comforts could still awake something in him. Not happiness, not quite, but more like a dusty echo of it, a half forgotten dream of what happiness used to be like. He looked over at the boy, and could n't help but smile.
`` That was good, I had forgotten how sweet baked beans are.''
`` Yep, definitely good. Should we keep the cans or leave them?'' the boy asked.
`` We will leave them, we have enough aluminum if we need it, and they are just extra weight.''
`` Ok, I can toss them. I need to take a piss anyway.''
`` Alright, just do n't go too far.'' The man sighed and leaned his head back on his pack, looking up at the stars between the trees. He watched the embers of the fire waft lazily up towards the darkness before they flickered out. The change was so sudden, no warning before they hit their peak and in their final moment they just went dark in the blink of an eye.
A blood-curdling scream rent the calm of the night and sent the man shooting to his feet. He drew his hatchet and the gun he carried and rushed toward the sound. The clip only had five bullets left, but he knew he may have to use some of them. If it was an animal the chances were good that he could scare it off with just the hatchet, but if it was people with guns of their own he was n't sure what he would do.
`` I-I'm sorry... I did n't see it. I did n't go too far I just...'' The boy's leg was caught in a trap, one of the old bear traps with jagged metal teeth. It had been obviously set and forgotten a long time ago judging by the thick layer of rust that covered it. How had he missed it? He had swept the area when he set his own snares. How could he have been so stupid? He cursed himself and he could feel that fragment of hope slipping, cutting its way through the calloused material that still held on to it. He felt himself tearing in two.
`` No... no it was my fault,'' he stammered. `` I should have found this. Listen, I am going to put pressure on it and release the trap, and you need to carefully lift your leg out of it.'' He did so and the boy lifted out his ruined leg with a muted grunt. The pain he must have been feeling would be incredible, just another testament to the boy's amazing power of will. Something he would hate to see broken.
`` Ok I am going to carry you back to the camp so we can clean this up and make a splint.''
Iodine, bandages, needle and thread, all of these precious possessions were consumed in a rabid effort to ameliorate the damage. His hands were shaking so badly that he could barely set the stitches right. He had needed to push the protruding bone back into place and all the while the boy had n't made a sound, but the tears that welled up in both of their faces were enough. When finally he was done the ragged wound was somewhat closed, but the fracture went through both of the bones in the boys shin, and he knew it would n't bear weight. There was also infection to worry about, but he knew he would have to take one thing at a time. They were far from any real population centers, to minimize their interactions with the twisted denizens of this ravaged wasteland but he knew they would have to make their way their if he wanted to replenish his measly store of antibiotics.
They next day they set out. He cannibalized the boy's pack for the essential items, and left the rest behind, since he would n't be able to carry both. He made a makeshift crutch for the boy, and while it was clearly uncomfortable it served well enough for him to be able to move. They could n't have made if more than a few miles that day, and when they set themselves down to make camp he felt that shard of hope slipping even further. The eyes were closer to them. He could n't see it so much as he could feel it. Their presence was like a fog around them. Always behind them, but creeping inexorably closer.
The next day was even worse. The boy's underarm was raw and chafed from where it rested on the crutch, but still he did n't complain. Such strength for one so young. The man wished he could draw on something like that himself, but he felt like he was looking down an empty well when he tried. They covered less distance that day, and when he went to clean the wound that night he saw red lines running up the boy's leg. A telltale sign the antibiotics he had given him would n't be enough. He knew little about tetanus, but he was sure he did n't have what was needed to treat it in his own supplies.
The next day they made it less that a mile before the boy collapsed. The man was able to catch him and prevent any further damage to his leg, but the boy felt hot and clammy to his hands. A fever was setting in. By his latest reckoning they were still thirty or forty miles from the nearest town. That night while the boy slept fitfully he made a careful inventory. He fashioned his pack into something he could carry around his waist, and made the rest into a harness for the boy. He could only spare room for a handful of items, a few cans of food and water, his knife, the medical supplies he had left, a bit of canvas, and his gun.
His pace quickened without having to account for the speed of his hobbled companion, but at the same time the boy's condition worsened. The motion was taxing on him, and several times he knew he jostled and bumped his leg painfully. The man too was growing exceptionally weary. The fever was getting worse and he knew the boy needed more water than he was giving him. They tried to continue in this way for another day, and the man figured they might be ten or fifteen miles away from the town by now, but by the end of the day they had run out of water. He knew there was a stream, but it would be a good five or six miles over very difficult terrain. He laid the boy down and woke him gently.
`` Uhhnn... are we to the town?''
`` Not just yet, but we are close.'' He patted the boy's forehead and let him drink the last few drops of their water. `` I need to get us some water so we can make it there. Here I am leaving this with you, if anyone comes use it like I showed you how.'' He placed the gun next to the boy and set off into the darkness.
It was slow going, he had only the light of the moon to move by, and he had to try and keep his sense of direction. He angled down the apron of the ridge and waded through a sea of leaves, rocks and brambles. Every moment that he was gone he felt that hope diminish. It was like a bird, singing softly that he was marching steadily away from. Finally after what seemed like an eternity he reached the stream and filled the two canteens he carried. He turned with a solemn determination to make his way back to the camp.
Cont. in next post due to character limit!
|
[ WP ] Describe the color red to a blind person .
|
`` What is red?'' Kira asked, feeling along the soft leather for her jacket.
Kerry pushed the jacket forward, inching it towards the brown fingers.
`` It is a color.''
Satisfied, Kira pulled the wool across her lap, playing with the buttons. Then she checked for the tag, making sure the garment was right-side-out. Slowly pulling it on, Kira tried to think of how to phrase her next question.
`` What does red feel like to you?'' Kira said after a moment. `` What is red *like*?''
Kerry slid across the couch until she was pressed against her sister's side. When she spoke, her voice wavered. `` Remember when you fell in love with Erich? How he spent all the time over here, keeping you company, eating dinner with us? You fell in love with him so easily. That is pink. That is a blush. The new love feeling you get in your cheeks.''
Kira nodded. `` Yes.''
`` And when you realized that he was -- when he left you for another woman -- and your blood burned. That is red. Red is passion, anger, betrayal. Red is pain.''
Kira nodded her head. `` I *hate* him.''
`` That is what blackness is. The deepening of the red until it takes over everything. Black is what you see. Black is the lack of light, the eternity of never seeing what is right in front of you. Even when you know it is there.''
Kerry touched her sister's shoulder, feeling the fine fabric under her hands. `` When you moved out, it hurt me so much. I felt so guilty. I knew you did n't want to leave but the memories hurt you too much.''
Playing with the ends of her sister's hair, Kerry tugged twice before letting go. She leaned into her sister, inhaling her lemon scent.
`` So red is heat.'' Kira seemed pleased. `` Thank you.''
Kerry pulled away. `` Red is also the color of love, it is what we make Valentines out of. It is what we put on firetrucks. Red is a color of lust as well. It is the first color in a fucked up emotional rainbow.''
Sliding off the couch, Kerry paced the room.
`` Is something wrong?'' Kira asked.
`` I... I have to tell you something,'' Kerry said. She pushed a hand through her brown hair. She tapped her toe on the floor, her sneakers leaving small, white scuffs on the dark tiles.
`` Tell me what?'' Kira leaned forward. She reached for her stick, wanting to stand up to comfort her sister. Before Kira went into the home, Kerry had always guided her. There was nothing she would n't do for her.
`` About *us*.''
Kerry jerked at the sound of the voice. `` You said you would let me handle it.'' She sounded raw, vibrating like a rocket about to take off. `` I told her I would talk to her.''
`` *Erich? *'' Kira whispered.
`` Yes. I am sorry.''
Kira felt joy explode inside her. He was here. He had left so suddenly. `` Thank you...''
`` No,'' Erich said. He put his hand around Kerry's shoulders. Kissing her on the top of her head, he tugged her with him. They sat on the loveseat across from Kira.
`` Why are you here?'' Kira asked, eagerness painting her voice.
`` I am here to say I am sorry,'' Erich said. `` I did a terrible thing to you. I feel I used you. I am not here to win you back, merely to gain your approval. I --''
`` Erich and I are engaged.''
And in that moment, Kira finally saw red.
|
[ WP ] For one individual , falling asleep causes him/her to take over the body of someone else in the world , until their original body wakes up .
|
Tangled in vines he woke, machete in hand and net in the other. It was so god damn moist, the air, he could hardly get accustomed to the temperature in time before coughing up a lung.
*what the fuck do I do! *
He kept moving, unknowing of his surroundings, unknowing of his current objective, unknowing of anything.
He felt a sting on his tan ankle.
*fuck*
He'd stepped near some huge spider. As he fell all he saw the leaves rustle before it all went black.
Drenched in sweat he woke. He seemed to be on top of a hill with a rather nice looking mountain bike. He heard some one yell `` LET'S GO!'' and saw them wheel down the hill.
*Sweet let's do it! *
He could feel the wind, the adrenaline this was amazing, however he hardly had any mountain biking experience. Everything went great until a rock tipped him and he came crashing down into the brush and rocks and dry dirt. Stars and screams were all his consciousness remembered before it all went black.
In a hospital he awoke,
*I'm back*
He thought in sadness. Back in his true body, back in his aged soul. To him, these adventures were just dreams, a way to escape, but to the people he controlled it was real.
|
[ PI ] A knight going to fight a war he knows he 'll lose .
|
I looked, dismayed at the display of might in the distance. It would take us another few hours to reach the swarm of ships already waited, ready to do battle. Space travel was slow, even for a ship in the Knight Class β a smaller heavily armored ship designed to be quick and sturdy. She may not look like she did when we left Earth, but to me and every member of my crew she would always be beautiful, inside and out.
I had lived the past 4 years in the belly of the ISS Civitas, commanding a group of mostly Americans and Canadians. We had trained separately on Earth and had come together quite suddenly when this new threat reared its ugly head, destroying a few settlements on the outskirts of the galaxy. By the time Earth had come to a united course of action 3 more settlements had been wiped from existence. In the 4 years it had taken us to travel this far, nearly half of the outer colonies were gone.
As I looked at their amassed fleet I understood. We have no chance against such a foe. No chance to do anything but slow them down. Maybe the next wave fighters to come from Earth will have an easier time against them, but anyone who looked at them and knew our current numbers knew we were not going to survive this day.
I heard a beeping sound in my communicator, the signal to start the attack. I nodded to my first mate who started shouting orders. As voices rose in a chorus of organized chaos I couldn β t help but smile. That kind of smile only fools will recognize. As the first of the enemy β s shots grazed the side of our shield I muttered under my breath, β Into the valley of Death rode the six hundred. β
____________________________________________________________________________
Subscribe to my subreddit /r/MaybeMadi for more stories by me! Feed back is always appreciated!
α ( ΰ² _ΰ² α )
|
[ WP ] Make me fall in love with a character , only to end up hating said character with ONE sentence at the end
|
Grace placed the rim of the wine glass to her lips once again and tipped her head back. A drop of wine escaped her mouth and slithered down her cheek. Her head slumped back down, her chin hovering an inch in front of her chest and her elbow, rested on the table, became the uneasy foundation for the glass. She stared, glazy eyed at the empty wine bottle, willing it to be full. She stared, meditatively, at the former well of relief, now run dry. She did not know how long she had remained in that state but a sudden short ringing sound stirred her. Someone else had entered the bar.
With considerable effort she raised her head to an upright position. It had gained considerable weight since she had supped the last of the wine, and she was beginning to ponder whether she had been hunched over for so long that all of the blood in her upper torso was now sloshing around in her head, when her attention was suddenly stolen. In the grimy mirror that lurked behind the bottles at the back of the bar she caught a glimpse of the person who had freed her from her trance.
He was a tall, slender man with short brown hair that flicked out at the ends, and a long fringe that almost covered his eyes. An all black bomber jacket was draped across his angular shoulders, the tips of his hair tickling its collar. Grace withdrew her gaze from the intruder β s reflection but only to find her own. Her face was stained with wine streams and eyeliner marshes and she quickly found her gaze falling back on the slim, scraggily haired stranger.
He stepped steadily towards the bar and sat down a couple of stools to the right of Grace. He glanced around the bar for a few seconds, before letting his eyes rest on the mirror behind it, his eyes meeting hers.
β Does this bar have a tender? β he said in a gravelly voice. Grace took a few moments to respond. Partly because of the liquid coping device that was now running through her veins, and partly because she was taken aback at the gruff, husky voice that had clambered out of the lamppost like man. She convinced herself it was mostly caused by his voice.
β He β s takin β a leak out back. β She eventually replied.
β Oh. Guess if I tried t β grab a sneaky free bottle o β beer it would be kinda obvious who took it huh? β He said, smiling with one side of his face.
β Far as he knows there β s only me in here. You could take one and run; leave me to pay the tab. I won β t judge ya β. β
He frowned for a moment. β Now, I β m no saint, but I β aint so bad as to let a lovely lady like yourself take the fall for me. β He mumbled through his half faced smile. His voice seemed even deeper now and Grace could almost feel the vibrations from it massaging her entire body. Now he was closer to the mirror she could make out his face much more clearly. His half smile rested firmly on a squared face. His eyes were surrounded by tired, slightly sunken skin, but they sparkled with life and mischief. β Typical woman β he smiled, β never stops lookin β in the mirror, even when she β s lookin β at someone else. β Grace smiled and turned in her stool to face him, he reciprocated the action. β Hi there. My name β s Dale. β
The two of them spoke almost none stop for the next hour. Grace found herself smiling more and more as time went on, and soon both of them were laughing out loud. β He really did that? β She asked through her child like giggles. β Yep! Damn near burnt the street down! β They both erupted into laughter once more. β Well it appears that this bar keep don β t want my business tonight, so I β ll be taking my leave I think. β He pushed himself up off the stool to a standing position. β It β s been a real pleasure speaking with you Grace. β He tipped his head, and smiled his half smile. Grace felt her face fill with heat that prickled her cheeks and spread through her body in an instant. Just half a smile had melted her.
β If you need somewhere to stay, I only live a block away. β She responded. She had intended to sound sexy and flirtatious but she could only hear her own desperation. β I β m sorry β He replied.
The heat fled from her cheek, like animals fleeing from a gunshot, her entire body was left feeling cold and vulnerable. β But I can β t take advantage of you in this state. β He continued β It wouldn β t feel right. Besides my brother β s expecting me to come round at some point tonight... You come here often? β Her eyes lit up β Yes! I mean no! Well, actually this is the first night I β ve drank here, but I β m thinking of coming back here, sometime, maybe tomorrow night? I β m not an alcoholic by the way! Oh God I sound like an alcoholic don β t I? β He smiled again, but this time a full smile, that spread the entire width of his face. β I β ll see ya tomorrow night then Grace. β
Grace sat at the bar. The bar tender poured her a single glass of red wine. β Sorry about last night β he said sheepishly, β I dozed off in the back, didn β t mean to leave you alone like that. β She smiled and told him not to worry about it. A phone began to ring in one of the back rooms. He asked her to watch the bar while answered the phone, she obliged him. She glanced at the clock that hung in the corner, it was only nine. It was still early, she told herself.
The bartender stumbled back into the bar looking frustrated. β What β s wrong? β Grace asked, mostly out of politeness. β Well a friend of mine was supposed to help me drum up some business last week while he was in town, but he never showed up. He finally rang me today and said he β s left town and he β s sorry he couldn β t lure in more than one... β
|
[ WP ] The Hero thinks he 's a villain , the kidnapped Princess is the real villain , the villain who the Hero thought was the hero is actually the person who needs to be saved , and they 're all confused as to who is who .
|
Gregg aimed at the couple strolling along the cliffside through his high powered rifle's scope. The wind was light and there were no obstacles between him and his target; he'd made more difficult shots hunting. He let out a sigh, calming himself. Despite the shot's simplicity, anger could still make him miss.
Tracy was his. Sure, Tracy did n't even know Gregg's name, but Gregg knew everything about Tracy. One day Gregg would work up the courage and actually introduce himself, they'd hit it off and the world would see what a happy couple they were together. But that would only be the case if some shit for brains did n't swoop in and steal Tracy from him.
That's why he'd followed them here. That's why he had to do it. He had to think of his and Tracy's future together. After how well those two had gotten along throughout the date, it was a sign when they came to this secluded place that he had to do it. Remove. All. Obstacles.
Gregg pulled the trigger.
********
My heart races. How can the best date of my life turn out to be the worst? Why am I worrying about such trivial shit when I've got bigger problems on my hands. I have to get out of here. I have to call the cops. I've found the Red Ribbon Murderer.
The scenery passes by around me as we walk along the edge of the cliff. I can hear the waves crashing down below us. Would I be crashing down there with them? I'm such a fucking moron. How could I think I can catch the Red Ribbon when the cops and FBI ca n't?
When I'd made this cockamamy plan it seemed so simple: sign up for a date on the same site where all those others had been murdered from, go out on dates until I find the killer, and I'd be rich.
Why could n't this one be trash like the first twenty? Fuck. Must of those did n't even make it to desert. There's a sound next to me and I look over. I give a smile that I hope is interpreted as `` I'm nervous about the sexual tension'' rather than `` I'm about to piss my pants because I know I'm going to wind up with a bullet in my head, which will be held together by the piece of red ribbon tied around it.''
That red ribbon had been what turned my elation about a beautiful date into dread that these are the last thoughts I'll be thinking. I'd probably still be enjoying myself if it had n't rolled out from under the driver's seat when the car in front of us had slammed on its breaks. The foot that kicked it back under had n't been fast enough, but I pretended that I had n't seen. I'd still been foolish enough then to think I could stop this psychopath. I'm not that foolish now.
Another sound next to me makes me look up. `` Amber...'' I start. The gun pointed in my face makes me stop.
Her eyes are insane. `` Die, Tracy! You male piece of shi....'' Her head explodes and the sound of the gun shot reaches me just as I pass out.
|
[ WP ] One day , you receive a parcel . Upon opening it you discover a letter that says `` Your life was all a lie , They are coming . '' It was from yourself , 32 years ago . You do n't remember anything from 32 years ago because you know you 're only 23 . You hear the sound of Helicopters and Army men coming in .
|
*Remember. *
*Remember*.
**REMEMBER**
Cold sweat covered his body as he came screaming back into the land of the living. It was still dark, the predawn light only hinting at it's promise.
*Why does everything feel so... weird? *
Stumbling to the bathroom, he relieves himself, a steady stream of piss to empty his bladder and overactive mind. Same dream, he knew it was the same dream... but this time... he could remember parts of it.
Strange dreams and cold sweats in the middle of the night were not foreign concepts, but remembering any details that was new. And troubling. He splashes some water on his face, towels off the wash and sweat and slowly makes his way to the kitchen.
His home is a small cottage, located in a remote area of the Northen forests of Canada.
He knows that he has lived here for quite awhile. But now, upon awakening he ca n't remember how long. Or why. How, why, what, where and when... there are no answers. All at once he falls to his knees in the darkness of the hallway and realizes he has no idea who he is or what is going on.
Vertigo.
Stumbling to his feet he makes his way to his front door and practically throws himself through it. He falls to his knees outside, scraping bits of skin in his haste. Blood beads on his knees and hands, but he does n't register it.
There's a letter on his porch. No return address. No postage. Just small handwritten letters.
**OPEN ME**
With a shaking hand he picks up the envelop and the world lurches.
**REMEMBER** *Flicker*
His hands are shaking so badly, he tears open the envelop and it is not just the world that lurches, but the universe.
`` I... remember...'' And he does.
`` What the hell just happened?'' He murmers. `` Where the hell am I?'' His voice returning.
He turns his attention back to the letter. It's old, dated back about 32 years. And it's written in his handwriting. And if he's reading it correctly, everything is about to start sucking.
As he reads the words `` Your life was all a lie, they're coming.'' He hears the whine of Reaper drone. He does n't know how he knows the sound, but he does. He also knows that the AGM-114 Hellfire missle is currently being aimed at him.
He does not know how he knows these things, but he does. Information is leaping at him from everything and everywhere. He knows the temperature of the air. How many bacteria and micro-organisms are in his couch. The exactly impact site of the drone's payload. He knows this and more.
Most importantly, he knows that for some reason he is not panicking. Again, no why or how, but something tells him not to be concerned. He is n't, for whatever reason. He walks with a sureness that has been absent for this entire 23 years of life to the window facing the drone. He sees the missle headed for him, idly wondering how he has the time to see it in flight when it is both dark and moves at subsonic speeds.
He's barely even surprised when everything freezes.
Time passes. It is impossible to say how much *time* has passed within the bubble of frozen time he finds himself in. He has n't eaten, but feels no hunger nor thirst. Nor has he slept. This was troubling for awhile, but the things he has seen since have put those worries to bed, there are bigger fish to fry.
He'd started taking walks. His new immobile neighbers were in their desinated spots, soldiers on the ground, frozen in their haste to surround the house. Black helicopters suspended in the air, troops caught descending from their ropes looked like the circ du soleil show he thought he remembered seeing.
Things continued on for quite a while. And then things got weirder.
He had been lying in the dirt on his back, gazing at the stars caught in the twilight. It had been this way for... months? Years? He had decided that he was just crazy, or maybe dead.
Footsteps.
He turns his head in the direction of the first sound he's heard in too long, and nearly passes out. He's looking at himself. Three of him to be exact.
|
[ WP ] A text pops up that reads `` 11 people other than yourself have received a message like this . Anything you text to GOD appears before you . Kill the remaining users ''
|
The little god was having fun in the great playground that was the world, enjoying his avsolute power of the mortals. He had found something truly great burried in the ancient earth, a wishing stone.
12 mortals received the message that intiated the game, the hod watched with glee as the messages began to pour in. The wishing stone glowed in his hands, the girl named ashley watched as a magic staff matterialized. John burst into a pile of dust, his wish for power proving stronger than he could control. Ashley morphed rapidly into a solid brick alien metal, when she wished to be invinsible.
The others all wished for similarly mediocre or terrible wishes. Only two were truly interesting. Marcus emmediatly took care of himself, wisging for riches, a gun and the others to appear before its barrel bound and helpless. But as he popped his earplugs in and his victims appeared Kyle finished sending his wish.
The god watched as it popped up on his screen, truly interesting. `` Gods help'' the little god chuckled and prepared to teleport to the killing ground, sudenly the wiahing stone glowed again. The little god watched as a being appeared between the gun and the victims. The immortals gut twisted, the being looked up staring directly into the gods eyes piercing through the planes of existence seperating them.
Sudenly the immortal found itself forcefully appearing among the humans he had been playing with. `` So would be god'' thundered the voice of the being, its ageless power overwhelming the young immortal. `` Time to pay for your fun''.
|
[ WP ] You are reincarnated as a pebble . Convince me that it 's not so bad .
|
There is no input here. I could lie and say the beauty of the nature around me sustains me, but I have no eyes with which to see it. I could pretend the sunshine's warmth makes everything seem so perfect, but I have no sense of temperature.
The truth is, my present is almost the equivalent of non-existence. But there is one vital difference. Somehow, by means I do n't understand, perhaps even miraculous means, I have retained the knowledge of what I was. The memories of my past grant me a frame of reference and have provided a very rich inner life for me to explore.
I spend my days reflecting on the things I have done, and considering the significance of my present situation. There is nothing to do, but I find I still have plenty to think about.
`` I think, therefore I am.'' Have you every considered the fact that by thinking about that quote, you're proving your own existence? I have. I exist, and it's not so bad.
|
[ WP ] You are a time traveler in his first mission . To ensure the safety of the world in a way you do n't quite understand , you must be a conspirator in a plot that ends with a human tragedy
|
What if our whole world,
Time and time again,
Has already died.
We can not prevent,
Our inevitable end,
So we alter it.
One man which is I,
Has reached a point in times line,
Holding true power.
Among the smartest,
A plan has been constructed,
For control on all.
I travel back now,
A secret society,
Is born in darkness.
Illuminati,
Controlling the weakest men,
To serve and obey.
Now in this bleak time,
People beg and pray and die,
While we reap the wealth.
No one understands,
This fate is no different,
From any other they'll face.
They may hate us now,
But it will never matter,
As it all soon ends.
If this knowledge spread,
of inevitable doom,
would you act the same?
We are only men,
the most corrupt of them all,
There's no more to say.
|
[ WP ] Make me feel sad for an inanimate object .
|
I once was the world to her. The day he got on his knee and popped the question was the best day we've both ever known. Fitting delicately around her finger, I had meant something. I was n't just a shiny piece of metal fitted with a rock, no, I was more than that. I was a symbol of the love they shared.
No.
I was the manifestation of it.
Unfortunately, love does n't always last a lifetime. It was the day before what would have been their 40th anniversary. She was crushed, there was no love anymore. Every exchange they had reflected hate and in a fit, she took me off her finger and threw me off a bridge into the icy waters beneath.
Since then, I've made way down and have slowly been sinking deeper into the muck at the bottom. It's been years since I've been seen or even thought about in a positive way.
I'll likely never be found, and never mean anything to anyone again.
I'd still shine, if I could only see the light.
|
[ WP ] Time travel is invented , but rather than preserve the timeline , an agency is created improve history as much as possible .
|
There's this famous picture from May of 1920 in Sverdlov Square where VI Lenin is giving a speech to his troops, Leon Trotsky sitting evidently in foreground. There β s another from November of 1919 with several Communist leaders celebrating the two year anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution, once again Trotsky prominently displayed. After being banned from the party by Stalin, these two pictures were altered to remove Trostky in an attempt to diminish his role in the historical record; a practice called Historical Revisionism.
There is an entire branch of history called historiography. This is essentially the field of meta-history; what makes up good versus bad historical writing and research. Historical Revisionism is the kind of thing that has easily fallen on the bad side of historiography. But really, it has only been since the advent of photography that any sort of objective historical record has been available. There β s the old adage β history is written by the victors β and really, to a depressing extent, for the vast majority of human history this has been the case. It β s only been in the last century and a half that the proliferation of accuracy has been an ideal.
We have entered into an age where information is all consuming and ever apparent. Revolutions occur in real time, and isolationism is virtually impossible. Except in the most extreme circumstances, historical revisionism has become impossible.
There are obviously rules to time travel. We all know them for the most part, and they have been well covered in philosophy and physics. Whether it β s Guy Lombardo singing I β m My Own Grandpa or any movie covering the subject, there are the necessary ground rules. This is where the idea of Historical Revisionism becomes the necessary component. Time travel after the 1850s is completely banned, and the further back the better. The less reliable the historical record, the less chance of completely ruining the logical timeline of history.
Was Achilles really immortal except for his heel? Probably not. Even still, you can go back to 850 BCE and so long as you don β t kill Homer, you β re probably not messing anything up. Even better, go back 17,000 years to Lascaux and so long as you don β t interfere with the cave paintings, no one in modern times will bat an eyelash.
This is where we come in though. While time travel for recreational use has been legalized under certain stipulations, we have been given free rein to β improve β things how we see fit. This is tricky because obviously we still can β t travel anywhere after 1850, it β s just too risky. If someone is inadvertently caught in a picture or a video the repercussions are dire, and most importantly out of our control. Because of this, we constantly tinker with small changes, catalog the effects and move forward.
Most recently we have been given the task of taking out a certain dictator; making sure that either he is never born, or killed before taking power. The hard part is that we can only control things that happened, at most recent, a hundred years before his birth. So we tinker. We kill someone in his lineage. Catalog the repercussions, and continue. It β s long, it β s arduous, but someone has to do it.
|
[ WP ] Run . Wherever you are , write yourself getting the hell out of there - escaping as far as possible , by any means necessary .
|
Ever been chased? Not for an innocent game of tag, or playing football with your buds out in the field. No, I mean full out, run until you feel like your fucking lungs are about to collapse, and then keep running. I mean like your life is on the goddamn line, and if for a second you are n't running your hardest, your gon na get caught. I had never had that feeling. Until I heard the the cold hard metal of the pistol on the back if my head.
`` Turn around.'' The voice instructed me. With my hand in the air I slowly turn 180 degrees. His voice was raspy, and his head covered with a black ski mask. Fuck. I'm standing on the sidewalk on with no one else in sight. The one street lamp is the only illumination for the gunman. `` Take out your wallet.'' I nod slowly. I reach for my wallet in my back right pocket. I present it to the mugger. With his hand shaking, he slowly reaches his hand out towards me. I can tell he has n't done this before. With the incredibly quiet voice, hunched over posture, and overall sense of guilt in what he's doing, I might get out of this with my life. He makes contact with my wallet, but that same second, he slightly lowers his weapon. Nows my chance. I smack the firearm out of his hand and dart in the opposite direction. `` Hey!'' He screams after. I do n't turn back. I run. And run. And keep running until I almost collapse from exhaustion. No one is insight. I remind myself not to go on a walk in 3:00am on the sketchy part of New Jersey. I slowly walk when I think I'm far away enough. Then I hear that voice. That fucking raspy voice. But that voice is n't the only one. This other voice has confidence. It gives off the impression that it's not to be fucked with. `` There!'' The raspy voice says. Shit. I hear someone running in my direction, and I take off running. I do whatever I can to lose this new guy. I take sharp turns, run down dark alleys, scream for help. Every time I yell for help, he laughs. That motherfucker, laugh ling at my screams for help. Then I see the opening. A large group of people at an intersection coming up. I pull a dead sprint towards them. I slide over a hood of a car and eventually look behind me. Nothing. No ones there. A part from the typical Jersey douce bag at the intersection, I lost him. I lost him. Then I stand and look around me. Street lamps around every corner, with a relentless swarm of moths surrounding the dim light. The moon, with a dull glowing ring around it. The stars, with there small light making the dark lonely sky come to life. Me. Standing on the sidewalk in some ghetto ass part of New Jersey panting, and believing I'm still freaking alive. Every since that incident I try to look at life with a positive attitude. You never realize how amazing the world you live in is when you come so close to death. I made it home safe. In escaped.
|
[ WP ] The God of Atheism does n't believe in himself and works as an accountant . The gods are having their yearly meeting , and it 's your turn to convince him to come .
|
Me? Haha, well, I'm just an average human that works at Walmart. Why was I given this task, to convince a freaking GOD to come somewhere? No idea. Looks like I'm the chosen one.
I met her on a street yesterday. I knew her face from somewhere, but I ca n't tell where. So, we met.
`` The gods are having their yearly meeting, and you must come.''
`` Gods? What the heck. Who are you? Please know that I wo n't buy any newspaper from you.''
`` Do n't pretend, we both know you're the God of Atheism.''
She was surprised, I could tell it by looking at her face. She looked to the left and to the right to make sure nobody had heard that.
`` Let's talk about it somewhere else. ``, she whispered.
So, we went to a nearest corner with no people in sight. God looked like a high school girl, and she was very cute, but I had to hold myself. God, I need a girlfriend.
`` So, human being. Why the heck should I come?''
`` Oh, well, you see...''
`` Okay thanks bye, human being. ``, she said and turned around.
`` Wait, please! Gods need you! You're part of Primal Gods Colleague! How can a fate of the world be decided without you?''
`` I do n't describe myself as a God, sorry. I'm just a supreme being than you, human. Nothing else.''
`` Of course you are the God!''
`` Human, what is your religion?''
`` I have a name. Call me Ted.''
`` I'll pretend I did n't hear it. Thank me later.''
`` I'm a Christian...''
`` And you're convincing the God of Atheism to do something they do n't want to?''
`` Yes, but... There's still a lot of people out there who have faith in you!''
`` Have... Faith... In me...?...''
She looked like some tsundere girl who just discovered how people really need her. I knew she believed in herself from this moment. But...
Just as she finished speaking, I felt that my body disappeared. It's a weird feeling, but I soon knew that I shifted to a different reality. It was an endless black abyss that I was falling in with God herself. It more looked like she flew down to catch up with me.
`` WHAT HAPPENED? ``, I shouted. There was no reason to shout, because for some reason I did n't hear the wind while falling down. But I was just scared.
`` Human, the heck have you done?!''
`` Mind explaining me first? ``
`` Oh me. It was a mistake to believe you. Basically you made me to believe in myself, in God, and this made a contradiction in World's Primal Laws, forcing us to shift into the temp void world!''
`` Mind explaining it with easier words?''
`` You destroyed the world, silly.''
She obviously wanted to say `` dumbass'' instead of `` silly''. But hey, I had no regrets! I destroyed the world and it's fun!
But look, I see a sea of light in the abyss. I realised it as soon as we fell in, however.
`` Welcome home, God of Atheism.''
`` Oh Jesus, why do we always meet in awkward situations. Did you see what happened?''
`` Yes, I did. That's why you are here.''
I looked around and I realized I was on heaven. Literally, it's where all gods hang out. I mean, you can even stand on clouds! All Gods were gathered.
`` I... I do n't understand what's happening! Am I dead?!''
I really panicked, haha.
The God I believed in the most answered me:
`` Your world has crashed and is no longer working. You had no world to move to, that's why you have been teleported here. That's a smart way to move God of Atheism. If she did n't want to come to her homeworld, you destroyed the world she lived in to forcefully move here back.''
Since recreating a world from backup takes a while, I hung out in Heaven for some time. Then I woke up at my bed and noticed a piece of paper on my table.
`` You're Gods' Ambassador at Earth, you'll be recalled as soon as we need you again.''
|
[ WP ] Your country has just adopted a new form of government : a Randomocracy , where all political figures are chosen completely at random . Describe life under this system .
|
I sobbed quietly into my coffee that last morning, my family silent around the table. Tim, my youngest son, had refused to even come out of his room to say a last goodbye before I left. I knew how he felt, that was enough.
Being gone for four years would be hard enough on them, and me but that did n't matter so much, but the things that would happen to their lives because of this were going to be hell. All our lives are to be upended all due to the luck of the draw. Random chance. Sure, I would return after the allotted time, but looking twenty years older, and weighed down with the crushing weight of God-only-knows what terrible secrets. Everyone watched the drawings announcements. Unspoken was the realization that the drawings were carried out behind closed doors, to enable security to be in place. At first, the security forces were to protect the nominee. But now that's just the press speak for the necessity of keeping them from running away. Sure, I would return. If I lived. Death was pretty common for nominees, the stress, assassination, or just plain old suicide.
As I sipped what could be my last coffee at my own kitchen table, I tried to memorize the scratches and stains. Outside, the crowds roared to life. Shit. It was bad enough since the announcement last night, with the press barrage, the crowds, the helicopters... but it must be time already. The knock at the door. With a tight hug, whispered I love yous, heartbreaking last look, my husband opens the door to the wall of noise. Still, as I resolutely stood to take on my duty, I could hear the stiff-suited security guy say, `` Madame President, it is time to go''.
|
[ WP ] Tell a story using Amazon purchases
|
1 Bottle of Wine
2 Candles
24 Hours Later
How to Get Out of the Friend Zone by Wing Bars
1 Week Later
New Clothes
New Lease on Car
2 Days Later
How To Pick Up Girls In Nightclubs & Bars by Christian McQueen
3 Months Later
What to Expect When You're Expecting by Heidi Murkoff
4 Months Later
DaVinci Futura Cradle in Cherry by DaVinci
1 year and a half later
I Was n't Ready to Say Goodbye: Surviving, Coping and Healing After the Sudden Death of a Loved One by Pamela Blair
Alcohol
2 days later
Alcohol
2 days later
Alcohol
...
1 year and half later
Alcohol
2 Days Later
The Easy Way to Stop Drinking by Allen Carr
1 Day Later
Alcohol
2 Weeks Later
Alcohol
1 Month Later
Handgun
|
[ WP ] Civilization has collapsed . You are the last person alive who can remember the internet . You try to describe it to people who have never even seen a computer .
|
Well, what was the internet, really? I knew what it *really* was, but no technical specifications lead to the conclusion that the internet was some sort of magic. It's something that everyone, from past, present, and future, could think about and still be held in awe by its size and complexity, still not even understanding what made it so great.
It was information. `` Like a library?'' No.
It was entertainment. `` Like a comedian?'' No.
It was it's own consciousness. `` What?'' Nevermind.
It was a beautiful place full of all people, but not them. Their minds. `` What the fuck?'' How could I explain this?!
But I realize how horrible I am to try and explain the internet to someone who I *know* will never be able to truly understand it.
Some things are better left unsaid.
|
[ WP ] After having been with your SO for years , the two of you are happily wed. On the honeymoon , however , you discover your SO is actually the world 's first most successful AI .
|
`` Well,'' the man said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. They immediately fell a bit back down his nose, `` we truly did learn a lot. It was a very successful experiment. But, sir, you can clearly see why we must end it here.'' He said this last part with a half-chuckle and began tapping the pen in his hand against the table.
`` No, I do *not*, and I also *still* do not understand how and why a man in a suit shows up in my hotel room and claims he is, what, the *creator* of my wife!'' I was n't doing a very good job of keeping my temper back. Miriam would have placed her hand on my arm, silently bringing my calm and dignity back to me. She would have been the gentle, reminding force at my side, if she was n't currently lying motionless on the bed.
I did n't think she was even breathing. I tried not to look too closely.
`` I have tried to explain it to you, sir. Please, try to remain calm and let me make things crystal clear for your sake. Please, sir, sit down,'' he replied, voice calm. I had n't even realized I had risen from my seat. Flushing -- either from embarrassment or anger -- I sat back down.
Fiddling with his glasses once more, he continued, `` Miriam can not be your wife, because she is not a human being. She is the AI that my team and I created some years ago, and set out into the world so she could learn and grow in intelligence as she experienced things. We also were interested in seeing how she could deal with other people and respond to unexpected situations. Simply speaking, we wanted to know if she could survive.''
`` You're telling me you let Mi --'' I could n't say her name, not for this. `` You let a robot just wander around? Do what it wanted? What if it hurt someone, or broke, or any one of a thousand possibilities?'' *It*. How quickly I was accepting this terrible new reality of my wife.
`` We kept surveillance on her, of course,'' he replied, sounding affronted. `` Of course, we never thought things would progress so far with another person, or that she could be so... well, convincing in her feigned emotions.''
Now I was the one offended, though I was n't going to hide it behind mock professionalism. `` You mean to say, what idiot would accidentally fall in love with a robot?''
This earned me a sigh. `` An AI, not a robot, may I remind you. And if you wish for me to cut to the chase, sir, I would be happy to.''
`` Yeah, do,'' I answered, voice dry and disgusted. At him or at me?
`` We understand the inconvenience this creates to your life. Your wedding was very public, after all, so there is no simply covering this up. And, you spent two years in a relationship with the AI, which is time out of your life.''
`` I thought you said you were cut --''
He held up a silencing hand. `` Money, sir. What we offer you is money.''
`` You want to pay me to give up my wife? The woman I'm in love with?'' I sputtered out, caught between laughing and throwing my chair at him.
`` Not a woman, sir. A program encased in a body,'' he said mildly, starting to tap his pen against the table again.
`` Why are you offering money? Why, when you could probably just take her away if you want?'' I had to ask.
He sighed, leaned back in his chair. `` It would create difficulties, sir. You are legally bound together in marriage, so you could make for a difficult case in court. Or, you could simply try to be very public about your wife's disappearance. Suffice to say, my company thought this would be the better route.''
I was silent. What more was there to say? He had mentioned court; if I rejected his offer, he would likely challenge me there. My bank account was not unending, so a good lawyer would be hard to keep.
Besides, all I was attached to was a series of ones-and-zeroes, a program that was trying to please me. But did it not have a personality? Did it not love me, even if it was code that made it feel instead of chemicals?
Taking my silence as encouragement, the man slid his papers in front of me. `` Our contract, sir. All you need to do is say how much.'' He stopped tapping the pen, and instead, placed it in front of me.
***
Not a long piece, nor very original, I think, but it popped into my mind and I just had to write it, haha. Even though it is now very late! Thank you for the inspiring prompt.: )
|
[ WP ] As the four horsemen of the apocalypse get ready to signal the end times , they are joined by a fifth one
|
Thunder cracked overhead, splitting the sky with its cacophonous sound. Beneath the roiling skies choked with sleet, ashes and the smoke of a thousand fires was the remains of humanity. Amongst their panicked masses rode the avatars of pain, destruction and oblivion. The Four Horsemen ploughed through the despair of humanity, pivoting this way and that to sow terror upon one wailing group, death and disease on another.
Cantering to a halt, their skeletal steeds reigned in to overlook countless fields of misery.
β Errm, β came a voice somewhere to Conquest β s right.
The ethereal being turned its skull: torn and ripped flesh stretching, pink and raw. Its hollow eyes, darker than the deepest night, beheld a small man atop a palfrey. The newcomer sat awkwardly, juggling a clipboard, ceramic mug and biro pen.
W H O demanded Famine, turning its steed around to face the man, D A R E S?
β I β m here to join up with you boys, β came the answer. The man adjusted his tie, wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow and trotted the small horse forwards.
W E A R E T H E E N D answered War, blood running in rivulets from its yellowing teeth.
β I β m aware of that, β the man replied. β I remember signing the form. β
He indicated to the fields of fire and despair, gesturing with the end of his biro. β Is that all regulation? Looks like a health and safety nightmare to me. β
Pestilence coughed a putrid glob of bile onto the ash-stained ground and raised a bony, slime-covered hand at the man.
Y O U A R E T H E F I F T H?
The man nodded his head, then rolled his eyes as if he was finally glad to have gotten it through to the gathered apocalyptic riders. He reached out and shook the hand of Pestilence, who had begun to vomit scarabs.
β Name β s bureaucracy, nice to meet you. β
|
[ WP ] : At first you thought it was two stars that wink out at the same time , on different sides of the night sky . Then you see it . Whatever it is , it blinks .
|
It was there for an instant and then -- gone. The stars few and far between, the street lights that were white-yellow that interspersed the road, the black pavement, lights off in the homes, the luminescent glow of the shopping complex just outside the neighborhood, the grocery stores, the theater, Atlanta in the distance with stark solitary buildings whose lights and highways gave a glow to the horizon -- the sky was black but the stars dim, out of view. The young boy stood on his bike with his legs on both sides keeping it up, his black sneakers feeling the pavement, his black hair a mess and sticky with sweat but even with the sweatshirt zipped up the chill was there that he didn β t notice, and his chest just breathed and his small hands just sat on the handlebars. The houses were quite. He thought he saw something. Then he saw it again. Two dots of stars in the sky turned off then turned on, simultaneous. He wouldn β t have noticed it except he was looking just then and because there weren β t much stars in the sky to begin with. His shadow cast over the sidewalk, over the concrete. Then the stars blinked again, a few times now. Then a break opened miles beneath them down the curve of the night -- a thin semi-circle in a gaping frown, a pitch black so empty and void that even in the night it was deeper and more black than anything the boy had ever seen. A sound came that was low and deep and as enormous as the sky. The boy felt his heart stop as the whole sky moved, not just moved, but swam.
The entirety of the stars, the clouds, even the shallow moon that was like a pinned button lifted, and the entire dome that was the sky moved, flowed -- the young boy watched with his mouth open and it was smooth and lifted like an entire ocean but with immense force and inertia that was like all the force in the world. The stars went with it, the satellites blinking in the sky and moving slow, the plane that was crossing, two dots of light on each wing.The whole sky swam away and when it moved it left behind it a terrific flash of light of every single color the boy could imagine, and he fell from his bike. His shoulder hit the ground and the sparse rubble and his arm covered his eyes -- a gyroscope of colors swirling in a funnel, neon, fluorescent, deeper than the deepest, richer than the richest, shining. Not just the force of the lights and color, that was not what shook the boy to fear so great he forgot who he was, forgot the neighborhood, forgot his parents, forgot his school, his pains, his joys, not just the force with which they spun, faster, faster, but the shining gold light that was a perfect sphere and whose curves and intensity could be seen in the far far reaches, farther than anything he had ever seen but at the same time was so vivid. The gyroscope of colors swirled, then slowed for the tiniest instant before displacing into a multitude of geometric shapes that the boy could not pick out, not because he couldn β t but because it was too many, and if he could comprehend he would still not understand all the shapes.
And the gold light burned, the perfect sphere. The boy turned around, the houses the neighborhood, everything was still except for the people streaming out in silence, not because they were silent but because all the sound was gone except for the low humming enormous breaths that now filled the sky and whose vibrations were making the entire planet rumble. The entire sky was disappearing. Dark black pieces of the sky like ghosts lifted from the earth as if tied there and cut loose and with gusts of breaths slipped into an unseen horizon. The boy felt himself disappear, but he did not vanish.
|
[ WP ] Everyone on Earth is blind , and you are the only person born with sight in hundreds of years . You tell the world what you see , and the consequences are huge .
|
Growing up, I had a peculiar sense: I could see. No one believes me, that sense had n't been seen ( hardy harr ) in hundreds of years, not since the world decided we did n't need it anymore.
Elaborate? Certainly! You see, we humans, around year 2034, decided that we do n't need to deal with certain things, so we designed robots to do so for us. They did, at first, menial tasks: we used them as cashiers, dishwashers, security personnel, anything that a robot could do, did.
Eventually, the scientists decided that we did n't need to worry about hearing accurately, so they started selling implants to people to increase certain vibrations for our ears to pick up. The results were astounding, people, born with hearing, born deaf, grew deaf, or just hard of hearing could get them and everyone could hear.
What next? We decided to take on vocal cords, because should n't everyone sing great because hearing was amazing? Why not? New vocal cords were being sold left and right, and everyone started getting new voices ( however, some of them started to malfunction and sound the same after some wear ).
The last thing I can think of at the top of my head is when they decided to replace sight with electronic vision. Why only be able to see in one space of the spectrum of light when there are smaller and bigger ways, and waves, that we can see the world? Those started to become the best thing since sliced bread.
Now, because of the aluminum by-products and way these small machines were manufactured, they were extremely cheap, so why should the next generation suffer with inadequate impairments that they were forced to deal with since birth if they can get so many parts of their bodies replaced?
Eventually, the thought of having any of these senses was almost blasphemy. So much so the government started issuing them for free. Bigger and better on all scales: no one was better, no one was less.
That's where I come in. You see, I broke my EES ( electro-scale eyesight ) when I was young to see what would happen, a modern day Icarius, if you will. Wanted to fly high and see the light but was struck down when the SG found out.
What did I see? The opposite of light, or anything good for that matter. The ways we thought we had advanced! None of them had came close to the actual thing. We had imagined any progress we had made, everything was foggy, with smoke in the mix. Factories everywhere in the place that we had made our metropolitan Eden, trash everywhere too, because if you ca n't see it, why think to do anything with it?
It's as if someone wanted us to believe everything was ok when things were n't. What a twist.
( Sorry if it's a genetic story, I was a little rushed and I'm only 16 and barely working on my writing. Any cc would help greatly! )
|
[ WP ] `` She said she loved him . '' Insert the word `` only '' anywhere in this sentence . It must be the final sentence of your story .
|
It's nothing. She was nothing. No big deal.
He'll be out there again in no time, back on the horse, ready for the same old rodeo. It's all about the ride.
Crying is fine, you cry it out. Soon he'll look back and laugh. *Did I really cry over her? * He's hormonal. He's hungover. He's horny, that's all.
She was nothing.
Nothing but the next one, before the one after that and the one after that.
She had flaws, loads of them. He always saw them, right them from the start. She'd take out all her insecurities on him: holding his hand when she felt scared, hoping he'd save her from ridicule, depending on him to help when she got lonely, scared, or sad. And now none of that - and that's good.
Now he's his own man.
No one waiting for him to come home, asking how long he'll be, where he is, what he's doing. No - no one constantly wanting to be around him.
Freedom.
Free like a young man should be. Nothing tying him down. No one telling him what to do. Finally he can do what he wants without worrying about what someone else thinks. He's too young to settle.
All that weight dropped. It's no surprise he can still feel it hanging heavy. It's just another flex. The heart is a muscle and when it heals it gets stronger. The bigger the hurt, the stronger it gets.
But she was nothing.
Nothing worth crying about.
She only said she loved him.
|
[ WP ] When a child comes of age their greatest quality manifests itself as a familiar that will follow them for life . You just turned 21 and you still did n't have one , until this morning when two showed up and they terrify you .
|
Most people get their familiars at around the same time they enter puberty. They always have a name, and they always fit their person somehow. The prevailing idea why they appear at that age is because that is when children begin to truly change and therefore emotionally require a constant companion in the world, to help them through the stresses of growing up. They do n't always appear the same, either. People have reported receiving animal, human, and even mythical familiars, from a hamster to a wyvern.
I, however, am unique. I am 21, and I do n't have one yet. I have been through a lot early, a lot of bullying when I was young due to my personality, and then once people found out I did n't have a familiar yet, that became the main point. I changed schools due to redistricting when I was very young, which cost me my friends, as we now went to schools almost a county apart. As a child, I lost a cousin to murder, and even personally made the coffin for my grandfather when he passed, when I was older. I suspect these are the reasons for the lack of familiar, as I changed emotionally too strongly, and too often, for one single familiar to attach to me. However, as I became more bitter, more lonely and abandoned, taking to drink and brooding on my own instead of socializing with others, who were so different from me in a way I could n't change, I must have become perfect for the familiars to choose me.
I woke up one morning, feeling different. It seemed like just another Saturday morning, and nothing looked different in my dorm room. Except, it was pitch black, as dark as I remember moonless nights to be back home in the country. It is never black in the city, not ever. I looked at my phone, thinking maybe there is some blackout and the university sent out an email or text notice. Turning on my phone was the kicker though, because that is when I noticed that the blackness was because I could n't see. Jumping up in bed, I clawed at my face, and I felt something flow off of it. Only to be slammed in the face by a bright, pure light.
`` Sorry for the unpleasant awakening,'' a female voice said, `` but if you had seen me without any conditioning, you woudl have truly gone blind.''
The voice was soft, and oddly comforting, but the panic from her words overcame the soothing effect. `` Conditioning!? What do you mean,'conditioning'? What have you done to me?? What was on my face!''
`` Calm yourself, all I have done was allow you to see me safely. You have waited a very long time, and now, your wait is over. I am here to accompany you as familiars.''
Finally getting a good look at the voice now that the light began to fade, I saw a woman of a little over average height in a long, forest green dress or gown, pale as the moon with hair a beautiful, amazing red. No, red was n't the color, it did n't do her justice. It was a rich, full red, the color of a prized ruby and just as sleek. Its color amazed me, enraptured me. I always did have a preference for women with red hair, but this was on a different. Her eyes though. They were deep, and dark. Darker than dark, her eyes rivaled the darkness of space. They consumed me, and I had the feeling of being consumed by them. Summoning the will to break my gaze, I noticed behind her back spread an aura of scintillating, shapeless *something* that I could not place but nevertheless seemed to be perfectly reasonable to be there. Once I got past her stunning beauty, which as a lonely male in my prime, took me a few minutes to get my brain working again, I realized her choice of words.
`` What do you mean, familiars, plural? I thought people only ever get one familiar.''
`` Most people get one. very few get two, the reason you have never heard of one is because they are like you. Not good with people, and tend to keep to themselves.''
`` Well where is the second? I only see you.''
`` You have already seen him,'' she said with a giggle, `` He has been with you for much of your life. He is not a fan of light, as he is not as you would say,'good looking', to be gentle.'' He therefore tends to stay beneath people, where he can not generally be seen.'' As she said this she gestured to the shifting *something* behind her. He also conveniently pairs with me perfectly, as he is what is allowing you to bear looking at me. I would blind those I am bonded with if not for him. We are a kindred, and while we may split at times, we will always come back together, as we have today.''
`` He was my shadow?''
*No, but I stayed in it. I have guided you, and been there for you when so many others have not. * Spoke a new, masculine voice. A startlingly familiar voice, I realized it was my own mental voice.
`` How do you sound li-''
*I am not your thoughts, boy, but I have been with you for so long you hear my voice as your own now. We have been one and the same since you were 14, and suffered the loss that changed you into what you are now. I apologize for the dreams you had the week following the funeral, but it was necessary to rush the bonding process, or you may have been lost from this world forever. You needed somebody, and I was a perfect fit for you. *
`` Alright then,'' I said cautiously, `` what are your names? I want to know why you finally chose me.''
*We have many, more than you would know and some that you can not even pronounce. The most well known of my names would likely be ΞΡμΡΟΞΉΟ, or possibly Furor. *
`` And I am known as Adrestia, or possibly Glaistig. I am sure that with your love of books, you have heard of us, somewhere along the line, for we are as ancient as humans themselves.''
I indeed had heard of them, and I was interested in where this was going. `` I have heard of you, yes. You are spirits of hatred, and vengeance. You attached yourselves with me for what happened seven years ago, I assume? Also, you mention you are a kindred, and I know of one similar to you. May I call you Wolf and Lamb?''
Lamb smiled. `` You may, and you are correct. You have lived these years in despair, struggling with the decision to end your life, as you were desperate to end the suffering. Wolf managed to coax you back each time. But now, you are strong enough to not only hold him within you, but myself as well. The one who has wronged you and your family will be free of his bonds. Even though his familiar left him after commiting his crime, he will be released from your human prison soon, and he has received a new, far less savory and far more despicable familiar than before. We will assist you in the justice he deserves, and we will remain with you as your constant and loyal companions for life.''
*Now, boy, * Wolf said while Lamb watched with a caring smile and determined look on her face, *we have work to do! *
|
[ WP ] Create a original comic character with a unique origin .
|
**I do n't know a whole lot about comic books so if I've butchered things forgive me: > **
`` I look around at a world divided and bound. Heroes have risen and fallen. Villains defeated and lamented. Somewhere from that madness I was born. Some cosmic coincidence has bore into this world something new. Something insidious. Something pure. They will come to fear me. All of them. Villains will fail, heroes will falter. For I am something far greater than either of them. I am the void.
For millennia the universe has been enveloped in good vs evil. Neither force can truly conquer the other. Many ancient warriors have turned to dust while fresh bodies fill the space. The universe struggled on. And now, it has been decided that it must end. My birth is a means to this end. Justice is irrelevant. Power is cancerous. Everything they know will end...''
*In another timeline*
Doctor Doom sat upon his throne. The universe was his. Countless jumps through time with wicked scheming ensured his reign. His foes were vanquished and nothing and no one stood in his way. It was all he could ever hope and yet it almost felt hollow. On occasion when his boredom would fester he would travel to a place where his foes still existed. He thirsted for the battle. He hungered for the victory. With his near limitless powers the would be heroes were no match. Doctor Doom would vanquish them only to disappear back into his own dominion, content to see their light flicker out.
And yet, from the most ancient depths of the universe something stirred. It was impossible! Good had failed. lesser evils were destroyed. The universe was his! But with methodical precision, something was taking his world. His pride scratched at his brain. The want for triumph coursed through his veins. It was settled. This new foe would be cast back into the darkness from whence it came!
It was on some forgotten world that Doctor Doom first saw his foe. He was like nothing he had seen before. A being of light and darkness that seemed to fool the eye. He was there but as the eyes tried to focus he would disappear. Preposterous, Doom thought, it was just a trick nothing more. In a fantastic display of power, Doctor Doom unleashed a blast of light on his enemy. Everything in the vicinity was incinerated in an instant. But his foe drudged on. Undeterred Doctor Doom lowered himself in front of his foe. `` Impressive, that you could withstand such a blast.'' He said as he crossed his arms in confidence. `` humph.'' Was all the foe muttered. Rage filled Doom's body and in a blitz of speed his lunged at the foe. Without deviation the foe disappeared just long enough for Doom to pass through him. `` Who are you? I demand that you tell me before I destroy you!'' The sheer anger in Doom's voice caused the unknown assailant to stop.
`` Tell me, what was this world called?''
`` The people who used to live here called it Imperium before I destroyed them, just like I am going to do to you.'' Doom's hand clenched as he readied his next attack.
`` Imperium. A fitting name I suppose. But no. You can not destroy me. I am the one who commands you and I say you must die.'' Imperium said turning to face Doom. Doom sent forth a barrage of cosmic energy followed by magical attacks but they all seemed ineffective. Imperium smiled, `` as I said...'' Doom interrupted him with another uneventful attack.
`` I conquered the Beholder. I took the Power Cosmic. There are none more powerful than me. Face to me die!'' Imperium only smiled as his body took definite form. Hues of blue and purple swirled around in the shape of a man. Voids occupied the space of the eyes and when he opened his mouth a further terrifying darkness seeped out.
Doom let loose another attack but this time it made contact. Demonic energy and creatures bombarded Imperium but he remained without a scratch. As Doom was about to try again Imperium unleashed a bolt of pure energy. At first Doom laughed at the pitiful attack. It had n't even swayed him. But as he looked down he saw the crack in his armor spread. Like a flood through a plain in crept all over his body. He had no choice to retreat. With great speed he took off to his throne room scheming on how to defeat this new foe. He had only enough time to repair his armor before Imperium appeared before him. `` You can not win. Submit yourself to my destruction.'' Imperium said. He stood relaxed as he gazed at Doctor Doom. It was menacing.
Doctor doom however, already had a plan. He smiled as he gathered all his energy. Without remorse he sacrificed his kingdom and everything in it. In a devastating explosion the universe ripped itself apart. The Doombot, the room, the galaxy, everything in it turned to darkness. Doctor Doom smiled as he witnessed the defeat of his foe. He may have lost his ultimate rule but he could rebuild. It was with sheer terror that Doom realized the minuscule light in the void. Imperium survived. Doom blinked and like a flash Imperium was standing in the same universe. `` I can not be stopped. The cosmos demands that you all return to the void.'' Imperium said. Doctor Doom had no choice but to run. He did n't care where he just needed to get away. He jumped to a new timeline away from the madness.
Ultron parried Iron man's punch only to be clobbered by MjΓΆlnir. The Hulk grabbed Ultron from the air and slammed him into the ground embedding him deep within the ruble. A flash of light appeared and the Avengers stopped as Doctor Doom appeared. `` Uhh, Okay then, that was unexpected.'' Iron man said. Ultron crawled from the ruble and stood as the battle came to a halt.
`` And who would you be?'' He said. Doom ignored them trying to figure out his next course of action. He was sure Imperium would be here any second. Like clockwork Imperium phased into existence. The crowd took a step back unsure what was going on. `` What is happening?'' Ultron demanded. Imperium grabbed Doctor Doom by the ankle and hurled him into the nearest building. Dust and debris spewed forth as the building crumbled down. Infuriated that he was being ignored Ultron sprang into action. He clocked his arm back and with incredible strength struck Imperium in the face. Unflinching, Imperium grabbed Ultron's torso and squeezed. The almost impervious Adamantium buckled and screeched as it folded. Imperium tossed the disabled body aside as Doctor Doom regained his feet.
`` Worthless. You once said there were no strings controlling you Ultron, but you were wrong.'' Imperium said as he starred down everyone present. `` You are all controlled by the need for justice or power. Good and evil. It makes no difference to me. You all will die.'' The words were sinister. It was like their mere utterance stripped the heroes of courage. Who would save them now?
|
[ WP ] A trashy romance novel is the only book to survive an apocalypse , and it becomes the fundamental religious text of a new society .
|
Prophet Samuel donned his robes. This was to be his first sermon, teaching the Will of Green. As he flipped up his hood, he walked through the door to the balcony.
Looking out across the sea of people below, the Prophet steeled himself. This should be easy to him. He knew the path that Green had bestowed upon him.
`` Brothers. Sisters.'' Prophet Samuel's voice boomed across the room. `` Lovers. Loners. You all have come to us in the time of humanity's downfall.''
He turned and wiped sweat from his brow. In front of him lay the holy book. He ran his hand gently over the sky blue cover. He took a deep breath and continued on.
`` As is stated in the holy book, our lord Green has found himself among the stars. We look to him for salvation for the sins of the past. The future is ahead of us. Green has shown that we all have faults. But together we can fix them. The holy figures, Hazel and Augustus, have shown that anything can blossom. Their love became true when the world was against them.''
The crowd of people was silent, waiting for him to go on. Samuel paused, looking from face to face. Individuals, couples, and families, all here to fight towards the future under Green.
`` Remember. Brothers, sisters, lovers, loners. Together, Okay will be our Always. Thank you.''
Silence followed for a few moments after. One by one they all raised their heads. All together, they said:
`` Okay.''
|
[ RF ] Instead of being 1/8th of an Orgasm , every 8th sneeze gives people a full blown one . You just ticked off your 7th while waiting to be interviewed for a new job .
|
`` Bless you! Would you like a tissue?'' the receptionist with deep brown eyes said to me as I waited in the waiting room. I was slightly nervous and a little shaky as this would be the 3rd and final interview for my dream position.
`` Yes, please'' I said as I tried to count the total of sneezes since my previous dopamine dump. A long-long time ago, my people found that an intense reaction came after a traceable amount of consecutive sneezes. There was n't any need for research or scientific statistical analysis: virtually everyone averaged 8 sneezes before our brains decided to pump any feel good chemicals we have into our body to positively react to high-histamine levels. Where it gets weird is when people try to add a sneezegasm ( as we usually call it ) to a normal sexual orgasm for a heightened experience.
`` Thank you,'' I said as the receptionist walked back to her desk from bringing me nasal cleanup supplies, swinging her hourglass curve appropriately to begin to gain feeling of arousal out of me. Hey, at least it takes my mind of being nervous.
I try to re-position myself in the wickedly uncomfortable waiting room chair as I continue counting prior sneezes. Was that number 6 or number 7? Usually, I would n't have to keep track of my sneezes, as with all people who have allergies, I'm prescribed medication so I can save my orgasms for sexual encounters, and not random times throughout the spring. But today, I did n't take my medication because I needed to not have any side-effects distract me from nailing my dream job. The shakey voice, clammy hands, and restless legs are no place for a mid-level management position's final interview.
Man, she is insanely attractive, I tell myself as I catch a quick smile from the receptionist as she sits back down at her desk. Anyways, I think that was sneeze # 6, so I should be safe until I can get to a bathroom after the interview. I put my hand in my pocket to see if my emergency supply of pepper is in my pocket, and it is. I always carry a little packet of pepper, usually stolen from Chipotle, in my pocket for emergencies, because sometimes my medication does n't always work or I forget to take it. Force and control the sneezegasm in an appropriate setting. Always have a backup plan.
I scan around the room trying to distract myself from the impending interview, and I catch a glimpse of the receptionist staring at me in my peripheral vision. Maybe if this job interview goes well, I can get to know her better.
I try to catch a glimpse of her again and this time we make eye contact. I mean, I'm fresh off a new haircut and wearing my best suit, so maybe she likes what she sees. We continue to stare at each other. More and more intensely as time slows down. I begin to feel a pulse in my heart, and bloodflow begin to increase into my genitals and head. Is it my head or is it my face. My face is getting warm, my nose twitches. I move my hand from my pocket to rub my nose and find it rough and sandy. She is still staring at me intensely, but my look is moving from lust to sheer horror. The coarse feeling of my hand against my face was from the ripped pepper packet in my pocket. I begin to take a deep breath and violently sneeze. I catch another glimpse of my comapnion in lust as she says `` bless you'' again.
Ah, no! Hold it! I feel the 8th sneeze coming!!! She's walking over to me with a tissue again. I look up with my face scrunched; trying everything in my power to resist the impending sneeze. She comes closer, only a foot away, and bends down to give me my tissue. I reach for the tissue as I look into her eyes and say `` thank you.'' I ca n't hold it any longer, it's taken hold of me. I feel lightheaded and grab her by the arm. As the sneeze comes, I look deeply into her eyes once again. She moves her hand to hold mine. Did she know this was coming? I shake violently in my uncomfortable chair while heaven ascends from within me. 10 seconds go by of me trying to contain my moans and gyrations. I must have looked like a spaz. At least she was into it.
|
[ WP ] `` Damn it , you just erased half of the universe ! Do n't stare at me - load the backup before they notice ! ''
|
I plugged the USB stick into the computer with the hopes that it would work...
*Crap*, error 567. The message, on my screen now reading `` **WARNING: data uploaded using this USB may not have uploaded properly. Are you sure you want to continue? **'' I've never been so frustrated before, but I knew, and John did too, that we had to do this.
`` OK, done that was easy. I wonder what happens now.'' I know something had to have changed, *but what*?
`` Hey John, could you just be on the lookout for any changes whatsoever?'' I began looking as well, nothing came up until... `` Hey Mike look at this.'' Oh great...
`` So this is n't a major change, but look at this YouTube video.'' It was titled *Berenstein Bears*, not too out of the ordinary, that is what it's called after all. `` Keep watching, this gets trippy.''
As I watched I came across the realization that maybe it was just minor things like that was being changed until...
`` Hey Mike look at this, Donald Trump is in the front-running for the President of the United States.''
-- -- -- -- -- --
This story could be a little better, but this is my first time responding to a post, so if anyone has criticism to help improve my writing skills that'd be appreciated.
|
[ WP ] You are a parent . Home alone with an infant child , you hear a disturbance on the baby monitor . When you go to check to see if the child is ok , there is nothing in the crib .
|
I cover my ears and try to ignore the crying. The baby was crying so loud but I couldn β t help him; nobody could. I want to cry but I have no tears left- the last few months since the baby had been born were too much. I sit on the couch and desperately yearn for David to come home. Although he noticed that our baby was different as well, he seemed to cope better and would still play with him frequently. I try to distract my mind and watch the tv guide channel. In the age where you could control tv guides, it was peaceful to just watch the channels scroll by without needing any help or prompting decision. I begin to calm down and my heart rate settles before I hear a giggle on the baby monitor.
My head snaps up and I look at the baby monitor. I contemplate running out the door and never looking back but realize my heart would never let me. When the monitor giggles again, I grab the monitor and run upstairs. I scream the baby β s name, β Danny! β and run into the nursery. I look at the blue cloudy sky crib and see that it is empty. I look to the window which is still closed and securely locked. I hear a ruffling near the corner of the room and cringe when I see him sitting in the corner with a book. Sure he was in his Winnie the Pooh onesie but no four month old had the ability to read.
He looks up with a look of confusion on his face which is sticking out of the small face slot of his outfit. His soft blonde hair sticks out the front and his blue eyes stare at me full of innocence. My inner conscious momentarily scolds me for loathing a living being that could fit into a Winnie the Pooh costume and be so adorable.
I walk slowly through the room, never taking my eyes off of him and check the baby monitor. It looks normal enough but I know that I heard a giggle. I look at Danny who is now standing up and looking at me. β Go to your crib β I say sternly trying not to show emotion. Before my eyes, he gets up and climbs into the crib. He was only four months old but he was already able to walk. He was going through clothes faster than we could buy them. We have a stare down for a solid minute before I pat his head gently; just touching him sent shivers down my spine but I didn β t want him to fall out and be on the floor where I would have to hold him. He sits down in the crib and coughs. I try to leave but turn back around and stare at the little beast, β Are you okay? β I ask softly hoping he won β t require any water. He looks at me and bites his lip as if he wants to say something. He nods at me causing me to jump back and slam the door.
I see my hands shaking but I can β t comprehend that my four month old baby just nodded at me so I reenter the room. He is standing up again and so I say, β Sit down Danny. You β re going to get hurt. β He doesn β t nod but he does sit down. I pace the room and grab a stuffed animal from the floor. I smile at the Eeyore lookalike and drop it into the crib and then take a step back and ask, β Danny, can you understand me? Can you respond? β He holds Eeyore with both hands and nods. I take a deep breath as my heart begins to race; what sort of child understands adults at four months old? As a billion thoughts flood into my head, I hear a squeak, β I love you mama. β
I look at the crib and shout, β What? β Danny looks at me cautiously and repeats, β I love you mama. β I shake my head wondering if I had lost my final threads of sanity, β Danny, why can you talk? β I ask shyly. He plays with the pacifier attached to his outfit, β I don β t know mama. β As I look into his blue eyes full of fear, I realize that he is equally afraid of me. He asks, β Mama, why do you hate me? β I gasp unsure how to respond and take a step towards the crib, β I don β t hate you Danny. I β m just worried β I answer trying not to make eye contact. He cocks his head, β Why mama? β I shake my head and answer truthfully, β Because Danny! Normal babies don β t walk and talk in four months! You were laughing and fully energized within the first two minutes that you were alive. β He looks down at the pacifier trying to register my words. As his mouth hangs open, I see all of his teeth and wonder whether he should really have that pacifier. He looks up at me and then says, β I won β t laugh anymore Mama. β
I can β t help but feel like a failure as a parent and so I sigh, β I don β t want you to not laugh Danny! I want you to have fun and smile and be happy β I say meaning every word. He smiles and then says, β Can you read me a story? β I look at my baby and the sadness in his eyes. I remember David telling me one night that Danny β s favorite story was Little Bunny Foo Foo. I grab it from the shelf and read it aloud doing various voices for all the characters. Danny has already memorized the story and does the voices as well and laughs at my imitations. I had the compulsion to hold him but I was still not ready although I wanted to be. It wasn β t going to be easy; being a parent to a superhero baby. I had laughed when David told me that it was a blessing in disguise and I prayed that he was wrong. Now as I look into Danny β s two blue little healthy and miraculous eyes, I begin to think David may be right. I wasn β t going to hide from my responsibilities anymore, most moms make many mistakes early on and learn before the baby can notice, I didn β t have that luxury but as I read the words on the page from Danny β s book I knew that I was going to be the best mom that I could be.
|
[ WP ] Everything is legal in the name of science ! Scientists are allowed to break morals and ethics in the pursuit of knowledge . The only catch is , if they are n't successful in their research , they will be convicted of any crimes they committed in the process .
|
The silence of my fate seemed to choke the room,
The last 6 years of madness left to seal my doom,
& nbsp;
Their faces non-expectant, they'd all made up their mind,
They knew from the beginning, that nothing I would find,
& nbsp;
Six lives now I have taken for the answers to be sure,
And 3 extinct species caught short within the law,
& nbsp;
But the rules are quite specific, with answers at their heart,
And if nothing is discovered, pray you had no part,
& nbsp;
For the cost of wasting resources that could have been better spent,
Is to suffer for your crimes and worse to a greater extent,
& nbsp;
My research did have promise, or so I told myself,
But that did little for me, half a dissertation on my shelf,
& nbsp;
I tried to speak but stuttered, their eager faces clear,
The sad realisation hit me, why they'd gathered here,
& nbsp;
My arms felt truly heavy and then I realised why,
Clamped on each wrist was another arm each attached to a guy,
& nbsp;
They marched me to the chamber, my time was surely drained,
A finger on the power the executioner's face was pained,
& nbsp;
I grasped for one last word, to shout out in my wake,
I realised I had four, `` IT WAS NO MISTAKE! ``,
& nbsp;
The silence now felt solid, like a heavy cloth,
And the judge looked up at me slowly bobbing like a sloth,
& nbsp;
My words were loose and the tap now broke,
And with relish, on and on and on I spoke,
& nbsp;
And one last line that I knew could save me from this spot,
**'' AHAH! NOW AT LEAST WE KNOW WHAT IT IS NOT!''. **
|
[ WP ] Due to the advent of AI and robotics , most regular jobs are now obsolete . To make a living , industrious individuals offer to perform increasingly obscure services no one previously thought necessary . What do you do for a living ?
|
'Welcome to Glare For U, how may i assist you.''
`` What are you offering? ``
`` The Glare For U service includes glare training for beginners to experts, though for those simply needing a Glarebuddy^tm one can be hired to either glare at a specific person or group or to follow you around and glare at the people of your choice.''
`` Γhm how much does it cost?''
'Glaring lessons for beginners start at 30 $ a lesson, for advanced its 50 $ and if you want expert lessons they are 100 $.
If you want to hire someone it depends on the amount of time you are hiring them for and the targets for their glares''
''' So suppose i want to hire one to glare at my friend for....personal reasons for a week how much would you charge me. ``
`` Do you want to hire a Glarebuddy^tm just for office hours or 24/7?''
`` Just office hours please.''
`` Ok, that will be 650 $, please fill out this form for preferred glare style and gender of your Glarebuddy^tm.''
`` Hmm glare type Menacing, and lets make it a woman, if my ex taught me anything its that woman have a mean glare.''
`` All our employees are certified experts sir, now when would you like us to begin?''
`` Next monday please.''
|
[ WP ] You have the ability to see a persons intelligence in the form of a number , 0-100 , that hovers above their head . One day you approach a homeless man with a perfect 100 atop his head , more than double the highest number you have ever witnessed ...
|
When I first discovered my ability it was always fun to go to the campuses of the best universities in America and see what I can find. Usually the students are in the 30s, the professors in the low 40s. Occasionally I will see someone 45 or higher. I β ve not seen one 50 in my entire life. I trolled MIT, Berkeley, CalTech, Harvard, Princeton. Maybe I was looking for the real life Will Hunting, hoping I β d meet a janitor who was a 75 or something.
After a while it got boring, and I quit doing it. I β d still see the numbers ( most adults are in the 20s ) but I lost track and interest. Until a few years after that when I was at a gas station in Dayton Ohio. I noticed a man talking to himself near the ice machine. At first I thought it said β 10 β, but when I looked again I saw it was 100. That can β t be right. I β ve met the brightest minds on earth and none of them cracked a 50. How could this man be light years ahead of them? Shouldn β t he be CEO of some technology company, or some billionaire Tony Stark inventor?
I went up to introduce myself. He stared at me for a few seconds. His look of confusion rapidly became one of knowing, them his face contorted with pure terror and he started yelling gibberish. In the litany of gibberish I could swear I heard him mention the name of my pet dog when I was a kid. I tried to calm him down, but nothing would calm him down. The gas station attendant came out to see what was causing all the fuss. He told me to leave Craig alone, he doesn β t bother anyone, he just likes to dig through the trash to find leftover food that has gotten too expired to sell to customers.
I had a first name, but that was it. I asked the attendant if Craig usually was at the station. He told me yes. I snapped a photo and I immediately ran home and tried contacting some of the professors I β d met at the universities. I always used a cover story that I was a journalist so I could question people when I was on my university missions. It was fun to see if I could spot a difference between a professor who was a 35 and one who was a 45 by asking in depth questions. Sometimes I could and sometimes not.
I contacted several involved in medicine, cognitive science, computer science, biology. All I got was dead ends. Nobody knew Craig or recognized him, nobody knew about superhuman IQs. I eventually forgot about Craig. I never heard from him again, and he was never at the station when I went back. It was like he knew I β d come back to look for him. The attendant said they hadn β t seen him since they saw he and I talking.
Years passed. I was watching a TV show about intelligence and the brightest minds on earth. They had the geniuses you β d expect to see, and they were all 40s. Not a 50 among them. Then they had one of the world β s eminent neuroscientists who specializes in cognition on to discuss human intelligence and its limitations. According to him, a higher intelligence makes one able to discern patterns other people would miss. It also makes your senses more acute to absorb all the information.
The interviewer asked β what would happen, theoretically, if a human were born with an IQ of 300. What would that mean for the world β. The neuroscientist got a thoughtful look which was a mixture of amusement at the absurdity of the question and genuine curiosity. He replied
β Well, what would happen is probably one of two things. If that person was born in a nurturing environment where they learned to harness and control their gift they would probably grow up and completely change the world for the better. They would revolutionize all fields of science and humanities, and the world could easily be divided into a period before that person and after. People like to define time into BC and AD to account for the life of Jesus. A human with an IQ of 300 would do the same, the world after would not be the same as the world before. Imagine a world populated by chimps, and then Einstein in a chimp suit comes along to teach them how to solve problems they could never figure out how to solve on their own no matter how many there were or how long they lived. That chimp world would never be the same β.
The interviewer replied: β and If the environment was not a nurturing one, and not a safe one? β
The professor thought about it, and eventually said: β Then the brain would never learn how to tolerate and process all the information coming into it. Sensory overload from seeing all these complex intersecting patterns would drive them insane. He β d probably end up a homeless person who spent his days screaming at the sky. Assuming he didn β t kill himself first β
The interviewer and the neuroscientist both laughed. I didn β t.
|
[ WP ] You are your username . Write your origin story .
|
`` T-3 minutes''.
It was a calm, clear day on the Eastern Virginia shoreline. Small waves crashed gently on along the thin beach of Wallops Island, and birds chirped as they enjoyed the cool ocean breeze. The brilliant blue sky that day was cloudless, and looked particularly inviting.
`` T-2 minutes''.
The Nike Smoke sounding rocket sat poised at the bottom of a large metal launch tower at Launch Complex 43. The rocket's white finish glistened in the brilliant noonday sun. The launchpad was surprisingly tranquil, as it had been absent of any human presence for over an hour now. The long, conical nose cone of the rocket looked like a needle, destined to sew a single thread of smoke and fire into the fabric of the sky.
`` T-1 minute, range clear, go for terminal countdown''.
A single shot of an air cannon rang out from near the launch pad, scattering nearby birds. The Nike Smoke remained motionless, obediently waiting the command to launch. A mood of anticipation spread through the air as the countdown proceeded to 30 seconds, then to 20 seconds, then to 15 seconds, then to....
`` T-10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...''
`` Ignition''.
The peace was violently broken. A single arc of electricity leapt between two pyrogen-coated wires lodged deep within the Nike Smoke's propellant core. The propellant ignited with an earth-shattering roar, and the rocket bolted from the launchpad and tore it's way into the brilliant blue sky.
The ascending Nike Smoke, riding atop a jet of brilliant orange flame and bellowing white smoke, increased velocity rapidly. The propellant burned quickly as the Nike Smoke careened through the atmosphere at blistering speeds faster than that of sound.
It was over almost as quickly as it started. The solid rocket motor of the Nike Smoke burnt out in 3 seconds, setting the rocket's apogee at 75,000 feet. The majestic rocket left its smoke trail behind as it ascended further into the heavens. It was still visible from the ground for a few more seconds, it's metal body flickering as bits of sunlight bounced off, and then it disappeared into the deep blue sky.
As the smoke cleared and the dust settled at the launchpad, the tranquility returned. The birds still sang, the waves still crashed against the sandy shore, and the sun beamed down through the cloudless sky. The thunderous roar of the Nike Smoke was now but a memory.
|
[ WP ] As a vampire , a rule is that you must be invited into a home . You 've resorted to word play , knocking on people 's doors and saying `` Thank you . ''
|
I braced myself as the door opened, hoping it would be someone who was a bit older -- they tended to be easier to use this trick on. As I saw the occupant inside, I knew I had a genuine shot at getting in. This woman looked to be in her seventies, and if I was n't mistaken, that looked like a hearing aid she had tucked into one ear.
I grinned. `` Thank you!''
She started and stared at me, bemused. `` Come again?''
*Gottem*
`` Sure! I'll do so tomorrow!'' With that, I ran away as quickly as I could before she could take back her invitation. Old blood was n't great, but beggars ca n't be choosers.
|
[ MP ] Hurt - Johnny Cash ( NIN cover )
|
I'll hurt myself today
and tomorrow, if that's what it takes.
I'll keep on hurting myself
right upto the end of days.
If that is what it takes
to keep you from my side.
I'll keep on running, my dear
and leave you all behind.
What I've done to you
my sweetest friend.
Makes me hate myself
all the way to the end.
And you should n't live this way
where all you get is hurt.
I'll be sure you'r safe
when I am buried, in the dirt.
I wear this crown of thorns
a sadist to the end.
And all I can do now,
is to smile and pretend.
Beneath the veneer of time
the cracks again appear.
I'm a man no more
and its time that I disappear.
What have I done to you
my sweetest friend.
Makes me hate myself
all the way to the end.
|
[ WP ] You 're not a real adult until you 've buried your first corpse .
|
The Spartans claimed you reached manhood after your first kill. The Romans claimed it was your first day in the barracks. The English claimed you reached it after your first lay with a woman; The Americans said the first time you serve your country but the Estonians claimed it was at your first burial.
Estonians were rarely called on to aid in a battle, they did n't help the Americans in World War 1 or 2, they did n't offer guns to the Middle East or soldiers to the alliance- their people did n't kill. Murder was n't the point of their gauge of adulthood, empathy was. No one could know what it was like to value life until they'd watched another lose their grasp on it; the dying words said everything to Estonians. Their funerals were filled for every death and young boys would help set the casket in to the ground of their grandparents or whoever had passed. They were calmer people because of this transition, they did n't take up arms needlessly nor experiment with dangerous activities and substances when it could be avoided. That's why they were the only country left after the bombs of World War 3 dropped. Estonians had never fought for anything, the other countries had assumed it was based in weakness, but now the Estonians were grown, now they all had a body to bury.
|
[ MP ] You are trapped in the computer game `` The Sims . '' You do n't notice at first , but then you realize , slowly .
|
I'm tired. No- I'm *exhausted*. I feel like a kid again, my temper short as I try to drag myself through this party.
I tell Bella a joke. As she holds her sides while she descends into hysterical laughter, I find myself holding my own.
Oh God. I'm *starving*. My stomach is the Sahara desert, with no sign of any oasis in this miserable gathering.
I mean, what kind of party is this? It was supposed to have a bonfire, but the fire pit lies barren in the garden whilst everyone stands and talks intermittently in the kitchen.
Bella starts chatting to me, but against my will I cut her off. She does n't seem to mind, though, as I quickly cover up the silence by purring something sweet in her ear.
I do n't quite understand why I did that. Bella's *okay*. A bit dead behind the eyes; pretty but no more or less interesting than anyone else in this town. I have absolutely no reason to single her out, but still I find myself flirting with her.
She's responding remarkably well.
My stomach growls, but it is covered up by her vapid giggling. I shout out in hunger and exhaustion. I've got to eat or sleep soon.
Bella just stands and watches me until I am done. Then, against my will, I find myself leaning in for a kiss.
Why am I doing these things? I would say someone had drugged me, only I have n't eaten or drunk anything in *hours*.
I do n't have much time to think about this, as I collapse to the floor. As I sleep at Bella's feet, I feel something. I feel it nudge me, bringing me back to life with a quick, hard poke.
As I slowly, painfully, open my eyes, I see this object.
Is that a... cursor?
I pull myself to my feet. Bella is stood in the same position she was before my fainting spell, seemingly oblivious to the disembodied arrow now pointing towards her.
I find myself leaning in to whisper into her ear, following the cursor's instructions. I see an opportunity to work against this strange captivity.
`` Bella, I think something is controlling me. Everything I am doing is against my will.'' My words are hot and rushed against her cold, smooth neck.
To my horror, she giggles, my words lost on her.
I manage one more scream to the skies before the cursor compels me to kiss her again.
|
[ OT ] Writing Workshop # 24 : Revisiting Critique
|
This is part of a longer story I wrote in response to [ this ] ( https: //www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3yi7vr/wp_sleep_is_required_we_know_that_recently_we/ ) prompt that I initially thought of as a stand-alone idea.
-- -
I ca n't sleep. I needed to stay awake to stay alive. I do n't know how I know this, but I'm certain of it.
The research that had made all the headlines was, as usual, clickbait. We'd known for some time that we all turn into sleeping antennae sending out messages into the great unknown. It had been conclusively shown in the classic Kampff demonstration. What was less certain was what we were sending out, or where to, or even why our brains did this. And so far, the best, classified data showed us that this was being transmitted to somewhere in the M13 globular cluster.
But the public did n't care, as usual. The public needed a headline, and they got one. Already they were selling helmets and hats wrapped in alumimium foil promising to insulate our brains and keep our thoughts inside our head where they belonged. Tinfoil hats, lead-stained glasses - anything to keep those darned thoughts in our head, damnit!
At this moment, Bob is on the other side of the country, in touch with me only through phone. The two of us were, at the behest of the United States government, trying to find out just what this signal was. The experiment was about to begin - but the phone had n't rang since sunset, and it was now past midnight here. So I decided I could wait no more.
`` Bob?'' I said into the phone.
The sound of snoring filled my receiver.
Oh god, I thought. Nah. No, no, no- `` Hey Bob - wake up, man! You ca n't fall asleep now!''
Suddenly Bob's high-pitched voice came through. `` GOTCHA!'' he yelled. `` You did n't think I was going to sleep on you, now did'cha?''
`` Bob, it's not funny,'' I said, cursing the dust. `` Did you set up the interferometer yet?'' It was a tricky thing, the experimental apparatus, and even the slightest error could render it useless.
`` Just about. She's rarin' to go,'' Bob responded. `` Put Einy to sleep.''
`` He wo n't stop licking my calves,'' I said, which was true. Einstein lapped away as if there might be no tomorrow, which was also true. `` He misses you, Bob.''
`` I know,'' Bob said. `` He can miss me for a while longer. Put him to sleep.''
I got out the case of medicines. Amphetamines for me, anaesthetics for the dog - just perfect. Twenty minutes and one shot later, Einstein the dog was fast asleep.
`` Anything?'' I asked Bob. Anaesthesia was a bit of a cheat. It did n't really mimic any of the EEG patterns of sleep. It was more like a coma - but we should soon see if that had any effect whatsoever. If we were right, it would make no difference.
`` Nothing,'' Bob replied. `` Hold on a minute, though - I'm getting a small pulse...''
`` What does it say?'' I asked. `` And how long did it take?''
`` That's odd,'' Bob said. `` I've checked the equipment, and it seems to be working, but the pulse did n't seem to have taken any time at all.''
`` Instantaneous?'' I repeated weakly.
`` Instantaneous.'' Bob answered. `` We're breaking the laws of physics here. Tom, this is n't right - this really is n't right.''
I sighed. For a moment I looked up - past the sleeping Einstein - and saw all the stars wink at me just the once. Tonight was going to be a long night.
|
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.