Split (1)

train · 265k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 4 315	post_scores int64 0 42.1k	comment_texts list	comment_scores list	comment_times list
Feel free to do whatever with the human's decisions, enslave everyone, colonize, disaster relief, etc. I look forward to your posts!	[WP] Humanity is not alone in the universe, but they are "Late to the party", arriving at the waning end of an intergalactic war leaving the galaxy in ruins.	60	[ "Captain Grear watched the reports streaming in from the probes with a defeated look. Another dead planet. Humanity had finally broken free of the solar system and now looked for new worlds to colonize but all they could find were dead ones. The worlds scarred by large craters, presumed to be from anti-matter warheads. Not satisfied with merely destroying the surface, the worlds were also 'salted'. Self-replicating nanites were roaming the surface and oceans looking for anything biological to disassemble. Whoever had fought here did not do so to gain more territory, this a result for a war for survival. It might have even been a MAD situation, where two civilizations eradicated each other. The end result being that all the planets in the habitable zones within 100 light-years of earth were inhospitable.\n\nCaptain Grear turned to the helmsman, \"Let's head to the jump point, maybe we'll get lucky in the next one.\" He prepared a quick drone to return the results from this planet to earth. It would be a few days to make it to the jump point. Any excitement of jumping into a new system as now be eroded by the last 17 months of exploring dead system. The morale of the crew was dropping fast and they still had 7 months left in their current deployment. Many wanted to turn back now than explore even more dead systems.\n\nAs the ship approached the jump point, there was some excitement on the bridge, this next system was special since it would open up multiple possible jump branches. So far there were only dead ends from the jump points leading from earth. From the next point there should be connections to the rest of the galaxy and hopefully some viable worlds. The jump drives spooled up and took the ship in a instantaneous moment 36 light-years away.\n\n\"Contact! Contact!\" The helmsman yelled as the ship sensors populated the screen with the activity around the jump point. Surrounding the jump point were six massive battlestations each massing many times all the ships of earth combined. Before the crew could even comprehend what they were seeing, the ship was destroyed with enough energy that it was broken into it's basic elements.\n\nThe AI aboard the command station entered into the log the ship that was destroyed. It had been over 22,000 years since one had jumped through. Automated system started checks to ensure the battlestation was operating at optimal efficiency. The system then went back into its stand-by mode and its watch over the jump point to ensure that the galaxy would be protected against anything that tried to come through.", "First Officer Gambit of the Maell Homeplanet Defense was safe, for now. His MHD escape craft was cruising at .5 light while he figured out where he was and what was broken. Readouts were coming in from the computer that power was low, so he expected a jump capacitor breach. Asking for location while he launched a remote drone to survey damage, he piloted the small camera around the ship and counted tears while marking them down.\n\nThe computer pulled up a map on another screen and showed how the escape jump had placed him between an uninitiated solar system and it's Oort cloud. So, not only was he was safe on a whole 'nother arm of the galaxy but he was nestled on the edge of a natural communications barrier. Bringing the drone back in, he started matching the damage he found with the self-reported damage. He did have a busted jump cap. Without the extra capacitance his ship couldn't hold enough energy to make a jump. All the other damage was cosmetic or taken care of by the craft's symetrical redundancy. It might be a long flight to endure, but he was well within life support range of the nearest unaffiliated outpost.\n\nReclining the chair in his windowless liferaft, Gambit knew he needed sleep and let the ship autopilot to avoid rogue debris. He would decide what to do when he woke up... If he ever fell asleep.\n\nWhen he closed his eyes, the day replayed. All his mistakes and all the lives lost. True to his name, he made a risky bet with death to save what was left of the ship Treasure by taking the last escape craft just before fusion-destruct. He hoped the engineers that sacrificed themselves to run the procedure died quickly. Now he was being stupid. Of course they did. He should really be worrying about all his shipmates and friends who had jumped to Maell.\n\nWhy couldn't he sleep?\n\nThe computer beeped an alarm and raised the chair back to upright automatically. Gambit was looking at a scan of an incoming craft. Small. Very small. He hoped he didn't have the bad luck to be in the path of an enemy probe or under attack from an interspace torpedo. Another scan came in, relaxing the tired alien. He breathed a sigh of relief through the mesh on his suit. It was just debris. Another scan came in and Gambit realised it wasn't even that. It was basically a relic of pre-space Maell design. No. Looking at another screen he saw the vector. He was witness to the system breaking out.\n\n\"COMPUTER, INTERCEPT WITH EMP!\" Gambit hollered in the thick air, buckling himself back into the chair as fast as he could. The computer screens came up with trajectories and data. \"RELEASE AUTHORIZED!\" His buckle clicked and the ship spun around to face the near-derelict, emptying his remaining jump caps into a pellet of nanostructured design which launched over and zapped the emergent technology. Gambit watched on the screen and waited. It didn't matter if he ran, the signal was killed before it got out or after. There was also the question of whether or not this system was still being watched or if the radio telescope had been destroyed in the ongoing war.\n\nGambit held his breath while his jump caps slowly refilled, useless. He brought a clawed hand up to massage the top of his head.\n\nThree minutes passed before he decided to inspect the dead craft.", "Though there were many opinions, we mostly agreed that the alien civilizations would be utterly incomprehensible. We thought a species advanced enough to break the speed of light would be advanced in every way. Godlike beings of incomprehensible prosperity, shepherding the Universe with fearless altruism or painlessly euthanizing undesirable competitors.\n\nNone of us can say for certain when the first signal was heard, but by the turn of the 22nd century the chatter was ubiquitous enough to interfere with our own signals. We felt like we were witnessing the birth of a Galactic Civilization. Nobody really noticed when the signals started to decline.\n\nHalf a decade later, after the successful test of the first FTL drive, we steeled ourselves to enter the Great Galactic community we had so fondly listened to. We spun tales of immortal beings of unparallelled wisdom, of a hierarchy that had managed to survive its petty planetary phase and loft itself, as one, to the stars.\n\nWe weren't shocked by how different they were. Not after we saw the mined and depleted husks of once-vibrant ecologies. Not after we saw the false alliances that stabbed their friends as deeply as their enemies. Not after we saw the burned shells of worlds whose God had offended the God of a bomb-maker. Not after we saw the little slaves herded and gassed in a scene that evoked too many memories.\n\nThat was how the Golden Age started. We left the stars to their own devices. We didn't care any more, because we were better than them. We returned the Earth to a verdant garden which rivaled the Eden of myth. We cast away war and made incredible weapons of peace. We took the planets and moons that our mother star had given us and made our own utopia. We built all this, I think, to prove something to ourselves.\n\nBecause the aliens were not incomprehensibly great or terrible. They were, for most of us, simply too human.", "\"First Prefect, report.\" \n\nPrefect Zorg stood before the United Council of Planets, a rather boring group of individuals whose sole duty was relegated to making small problems bigger problems. No but seriously, nothing good ever came out of these meetings. \n\nZorg proceeded to the foot of the dais, his papers making those annoying little crinkly noises in the slight breeze. It was hot, Zorg decided, for a council meeting chamber. Why was it so hot? He stepped up to the microphone, and glanced to a technical table, where a bored engineer looking boringly at him to begin talking. \n\n\"Ahem.\" It was unnecessary to clear his throat, but Zorg was slightly tense and this felt like a good way to break the ice. \"First Prefect Zorg Mammot reporting on the colonization and wartime efforts of the Terran Race.\" He cleared his throat again, a bit quieter this time, and took a sip of water. \n\n\"The Organized Parties of Galactic People's Republics\" - these titles Zorg thought - \"Have decreed peace with the... Earth People.\" Much simpler. \"They have colonized the fourth planet in their system, they call it Mars. Their ships are simple and slow.\" \n\nCouncilman Bloerd leaned forward. In a gruff, slow, and boring voice, he interrupted Zorg. \"If they are so slow and simple, why was peace declared?\" \n\nZorg looked at the ugly pile of tentacles and cocked an eyebrow. \"Because, Councilman. We have literally nothing to fight with.\" \n\n\"I'm sorry?\" Bloerd looked less bored at this statement. \n\nZorg rolled his four eyes, while his fifth glared. \"The Council never approved the construction of wartime vessels, so all we have are supply and transport ships. We could challenge the Earth People to a race, we are at least faster than them.\" \n\nBloerd chuckled. \"THAT meeting is scheduled for it's seventeenth hearing next week, Prefect. Don't overstep your bounds.\" ", "They came like angels from the depths of uncharted space. White ships descending upon war-torn systems, packed with instruments to mend the soil and filters to clean the water. When met with us, we who have bickered, fought, and slaughtered, these new beings did not join the violence, they offered aid. They wanted to feed our hungry, trade with our crippled economy. They wanted to share what we had fought so hard to claim as our own. Our own and only our own. They arrived at planets coated in the remains of a billion lost souls, with cities propped up by what remained of their foundation and scorched with the hellfire of war. They looked at this, not with disdain, not with rage, but with wonder. The wonder of Humanity that brought an end to the war... \n\nMichelle Rodriguez exited the ship cautiously, her team members following closely behind her. The alien ruins surrounding them had so many earthly tones to the architecture, and yet still the fact remained that they were many light years from earth, and these were the ruins of a civilization much older than humanity. The skeletons of skyscrapers, paved roads, rectangular doorways. Though it was all cast in a dark, purplish color, much like a human city might be all gray or tan. What vehicles remained strewn about were charred black, scattered against the pavement. \n\n\"Jesus, must have been a blood bath.\" Marcus Franklin, Michelle's assistant said. \n\n\"Hush.\" Michelle whispered over the radio, \"Careful what you say.\" \n\n\"Look!\" Another voice shouted. \n\nMichelle spotted the dark figure peering out from an empty window. The words caught in her throat- the first alien creature she had seen face to face. Transmissions and data discovered had told them much about the history of this region of space. The many hundreds of species that have roamed here, nearly wiped from existence in a war that had cost the alien civilization just about everything. She had spent hours learning languages, phrases, anything she might use to communicate but that knowledge seemed to escape her now. \n\n\"H-Hello there.\" She said, she fumbled around her neck and opened the microphone so her voice could travel beyond her suit, \"Hello there.\" She repeated. \n\nThe creature stepped around the shattered walls of the building. It was shorter than the average human, perhaps four and a half feet in height. It was humanoid in appearance. Two legs, two arms. It had dark gray skin and black eyes, and wore what appeared to be a deep red jump suit. It approached the team with a similar amount of caution. \"Human?\" It asked, looking from the team members and then to their bone-white ship. \n\n\"Yes. Yes Human.\" Michelle replied. A moment later she was standing face to face with the creature, she knelt down to avoid looming over it. She placed a hand to her chest, \"Human.\" \n\nThe creatures narrow lips parted, revealing tiny spike like blue teeth. It seemed to look Michelle up and down. It suddenly extended its four fingered hand. \"Human.\" It said. \n\nMichelle tried not to jump back from the hand, she looked at it for a moment with wide eyes, then realized what the creature was asking. She smiled and took the creatures hand in hers- a hand shake. \n\nThe creature seemed delighted. Clearly it had heard of the humans before. It jumped up and turned to the building it had come out of where now even more faces appeared in the windows and blast hole openings. Its native voice was full of chirps and whistles. \n\n\"Get the water purifiers.\" Michelle said. Her heart thumping in her chest as she watched the creatures form a line in front of her, each waiting for a chance to shake the Humans hand. ", "\"Finally we have managed to cross the gulf of space as easy as driving to the next state with this ship we will meet our destiny and join those who came before us\"\n\nAs the champagne bottle smashed on the side of the ship I thought back to how it all happened. A guy in his garage found out how to bend space and move objects faster than light, billions spent in labs around the world and this guy did it tinkering at the weekends. Now with this ship we will cross to the first star system ever visited by human beings.\n\nIt started with moving around our solar system sending out probes at first, learning how to move through space at above light speed was not easy and many failures happened discoveries poured in from all over the solar system. \n\nWe even went back to using monkeys and dogs to test out how it would effect humans. The first human Michelle days will live on in humanity forever. She was the first person to see Jupiter from close up. She and her team where also the ones to have found the anomaly on a moon orbiting Jupiter at first it looked like a normal geological feature but it was giving off heat, not much but enough to be curious about.\n\nEveryone always thinks Alpha Centauri is the first star we would go to but from the first interstellar probes there was not much there to excite. My team and I where looking for life, who would know that the first place we would visit outside of the solar system would be because of something we found in our own backyard.\n\nIt took several years of research but we had finally found where the ship had come from, looking at it you would be mistaken for thinking human beings had built it. It seemed built to house bipedal beings doors had handles, height of corridors was about right for us, it was heated nicely and although we have not figured out how to fly it but we have been able to get some information from the computer. \n\n\"Ladies and gentleman today we meet our first alien life form, no one knows how this will go, what they will look like or how they will react to us but you are all well trained and experts in your field. Do your jobs and together we will make history\"\n\n\"Mister spears you may launch when ready\"\n\nThe ship lifted slowly at first building up speed until it reached the escape velocity of earth. Once in orbit and the course plotted a simple command into the console and space folded around the ship.\n\nI will never get tired of seeing the stars bend the way they do, they bend all the way to a single point like a lens. Once that happens though there is not much to see. \n\nI have asked the computer to wake me when we get near to the coordinates and go to sleep. A few hours later a soft chime wakes me up and I make my way to the bridge.\n\n“Mister Spear status response please”\n\n“All systems nominal, we should reach the coordinates in a few seconds.\n\nTo see it from the outside the ship pops into existence I am told it is because until we got there we where not emitting light once you drop out of bent space a wake of light particles bursts out and to an observer you just appear.\n\n“Report”\n\n“There are 3 planets that we can directly see and a massive structure in orbit around the third”\n\n“Take the ship closer”\n\nAs we move closer to the object we are in awe of the data we are getting all three planets are capable of sustaining human life but there are no radio signals or ships under power that we can see.\nThe structure is a massive sphere over 100 miles across and has what looks like windows, airlocks and antenna A massive hole looks like it punches deep into it. Jagged pieces and debris floats nearby.\n \nInitial telemetry shows that only the structure around the third planet is powered so we will go there first.\n \nReaching the structure we start sending messages in all earth languages and we include text from the alien ship but so far no response. Moving closer to the structure we are now within 300 miles. The ships computer shuts down and starts again with text rolling over the screen it is the messages we sent in earth languages along with the alien one but now they are all changing to the alien language. The alien language fills the screen then starts translating to English.\n\n“We are all dead. killed by the darkness. Every machine of war that could be built was. We destroyed stars killed countless billions of the enemy and still they came. It is too this end we have decided we cannot continue to fight what is the point of life if it is only for war. I am the last messenger to any who will come here. Kill yourself you cannot win they cannot be stopped”", "Captains log: entry 1\n\nI realise I never actually kept the log I was meant to, but never too late to start, right? It also might explain things better then I will in person, so here goes, from the start\n\nIt had all happened so fast. One day some rice farmer found a chunk of metal while digging a hole, the next the world was nearly at war over this alien ship. An inter-national committee was formed to decide what was the best course of action for humanity. There was always a committee.\n\n So the wreck was analysed and tinkered with and reverse-engineered into the Starship Columbus. A crew of just over two hundred was assembled, lead the brilliant Commander Nikolai Vanko, Russia's finest man. Incidentally not brilliant enough not to walk into a depressurised part of the ship four months in. So I, his first Lieutenant, was promoted to commander, against my will I'd like to add.\n\nFast Forward two years and we were there, planet Kepler-894b, or Mehtaap to the locals, like I give a crap. We opened a channel with the main governing force there, and funnily enough, the multi-trillion dollar translator wasn't turned on. The Mehtaapian (Mehtaaps?) had their own. It didn't, however, convert metaphors, so that's where it all went wrong.\n\nI guess in their language, branch more brings to mind a cudgel than a symbol of peace, so the whole olive branch thing gave off the wrong vibe, and I guess describing to them about and comparing us to the Vikings discovering America (I don't give a shit about the ship name, they got there first) was a bad idea because, you know... pillaging. To wrap it all up, they just suffered a little mutually assured destruction on a galactic scale. All in all they were all to happy give up without a fight. Before we could explain, it sort of dominoed and three other species have surrendered.\n\nYou'd think controlling most of the Galaxy would be a good thing, but we don't even know what these things eat, never mind how to organise food rationing for them. And to cap it off, they keep sending me concubines, which isn't bad in it's self, but they reproduce telepathically, so I'm just getting a head ache.\n\nBasically we're going to try and slip away before they notice. I'm sending this log entry ahead so you can get all the anger out of your system and not try us for desertion. Hopefully.\n\nEntry End\n", "The outer satellites had detected the large body weeks before it came into our solar system. Originally it was thought to be a small meteorite, a stray ball of rock not yet enslaved by the gravity of some distant world. As it was studied further its composition became clear. It was largely heavy metals. This was no meteorite, this was a vessel. The united space program bombarded the vessel's direction with hailing signals desperate to make first contact. No signal was ever returned. The inner colonies of Mars began to prepare a small envoy to meet the ship as it entered our solar system. \n\nThey would hail the vessel at a short range, and attempt a docking procedure. None were prepared for when the vessel arrived. It was a husk, a dead shell of the glory it had previously been. The derelict vessel continued forth, propelled by engines long silent. Only then did a signal come through. The ships dirge.\n\n“This is the Sentient Spark of the Anthitar Warship The Ascendent. Turn back and return to your homes. The galaxy has fallen. The worlds of many have been plundered, the lives of many have been taken, the empires of the great ones has risen and fallen and all legacies have been spent. We pillaged worlds for their resources in an endless war, leaving nothing alive or of value. All was consumed. And now nothing, after the catastrophe all is silent in this galaxy. If you can hear me, you are all that is left. Do not give yourselves to war and hatred as we did. Stride forth for a better future. May you honour you ancestors”\n\nThe signal began to loop. It preached its message of ahniliation for 2 and a half months as it slowly meandered through our solar system. During that time, mankind scavenged what it could from the husk. Taking engine designs, power conduits, floor plans, life support schematics anything they could. As it neared the edge of the solar system it fell silent once more. Mankind left The Ascendant once more to continue its funeral march and resound its swan song to the next civilisation. Only time would tell if man was worthy of this forewarning. \n", "The day of celebration quickly soured. Jubilation turned to fear and uncertainty within minutes of the emissary stepping out of the capsule shrouded in black. \n\nThe question had finally been answered no more than 3 weeks ago. We weren't alone in the universe. SETI had picked up a radio signal from intelligent life, and it was getting closer. The world's media was in a frenzy. News coverage was plastered wall to wall with opinions of eminent scientists and celebrities, each espouses their views as to what the message was, who sent it, and what would happen when the signal reached earth.\n\nAs the figure made his way down the steps with his head bowed, and his hands clasped in front of his cloak, absolute silence gripped the crowd. This was the moment. The moment they had all fought to witness.\n\nThe figure raised his head, a mournful look on his humanoid face. \n\n'This was all your fault'. A low murmur rippled through the crowd. \n\nThe figure held up his hand, and motioned to speak again.\n\n'Throughout the universe we have always fought to keep young civilizations safe from those that would take advantage. We shield those, who, like children, know no better. But you. You went too far. We caught the probes, and cloaked your telescopes. We deflected signals bound for your blue rock. You weren't ready.'\n\nThe figure heaved a heavy sigh. \n\n'One message evaded us, however. The Aricebo message. You told the galaxy that you had Carbon, and other elements, that have caused countless wars throughout the galaxy. You did not understand their importance. You did not know that they were coveted by other worlds, and other civilisations.'\n\nA single tear tracked down his cheek.\n\n'And so we fought. We fought for your world. Alliances were made and broken, and the conflict escalated beyond measure. We fought for your children, and lost ours. We fought for your resources, and we lost ours. And now, we are all that is left.'" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 6, 8, 35 ]	[ "1438109821", "1438111884", "1438122502", "1438093016", "1438107595", "1438084328", "1438097317", "1438074894", "1438069932" ]
	[WP] Start a story with "We have to kill the boy!"	10	[ "“We have to kill the boy!” Mark declared in exasperation, pacing the room and occasionally returning my glare. The rest of the survivors looked down at their laps, or pretended to be otherwise occupied. Everyone wanted to watch this scene pan out, but no one wanted to play a part. Not a single person would hold my gaze. \n\nI tried hard to keep all emotion out of my voice as I answered, throwing my words at him in a steely monotone. “You will not touch him.” My son lay in my lap and I stroked his hair gently. The tell-tale rash had begun to spread up his neck and arms; the first stage of the disease had fully taken him in its grip. \n\nI know very little about the disease, other than the fact that very little is known about it. What I can say, having seen so many of the people I loved succumb, is that it is highly contagious, and often fatal. The first stage consists of relatively benign symptoms, the most obvious being the red rash that starts on the lower back or stomach but spreads quickly. After a few days, the sufferer begins to feel better; this is when stage two begins. I shan’t go into the grim details, but the ordeal will culminate, after days of suffering, with an outbreak of angry raised sores that habitually burst at the slightest movement. It is at this stage that the disease becomes wildly contagious. I can’t say why. Research was just never done. I can, however, say that without strict quarantine, anyone in contact with the sufferer will be likely to contract the disease. \n\nUnfortunately, quarantine isn’t an option when you’re trapped inside a sealed bunker. \n\n“Alanna,” the voice came from beside me, and I flinched at the sound of my name. The speaker was a middle-aged man, with a soft voice but small eyes that flashed cruelly in the dim light. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but you must see that we don’t have much choice. We can’t leave this room. I have no idea how long we’ll be down here, or what we’ll find if we do go back out there, but I do know is that outside this bunker, the world has changed. Nowhere is safe. This isn’t a question of right or wrong anymore, this is a question of survival. I’m sorry that it has to be this way.”\n\nThe finality of his speech pushed me into a panic. I could hear myself talking so fast that my words blurred together into a nonsensical torrent of pleas and threats, yet I couldn’t collect myself enough to slow. They were taking my son, the only light left in my increasingly dark world. After everything else, I thought, after all the suffering I’ve seen, all the people I’ve lost, must I really be made to watch my youngest son die this way? I would never allow it. \n\nEventually, when I ran out of words and descended into quiet sobs, I sat dejected with my son in the corner of that awful concrete prison. No one spoke. The only sound was Mark as he paced the length of the room. I listened to his steps, almost musical in their rhythm. \n\nClump, clump, clump, pause. \n\nClump, clump, clump, pause. \n\nClump, clump, clump, pause. \n\nPause. \n\n“Okay,” he said finally, “I won’t be the one to make this decision. We will leave it, and tomorrow, we decide. All of us will vote. You can chose to let the boy live, and determine your own death to be a slow and painful one; or you can chose for him to die, and the rest of us can live. But you will all chose.” \n\nA murmur of unrest sounded throughout the bunker. I sat in horrified silence. I had one day to convince these people to let my child live, and I had no idea how. The man with the soft voice got up from my side and walked to the supplies crates; he returned with a cup of some dark liquid. He told me to drink, assuring me it was a coffee when I asked. I didn’t question it further, I just let myself be warmed by the liquid as it flowed through my body. Once finished, I let the cup drop from my hand and roll across the ground. I was so tired. It’s the stress, I heard someone say quietly, just relax, just let yourself go. I fought it for a few more seconds, an uneasy feeling in my gut, then there was darkness. \n\nI was awoken by a sound. In my semiconscious state, it tore through the room with such intensity that I could have believed the world itself had been ripped in two. I feared that another bomb had been dropped. \n\nThen I started hearing more. Someone shouting, a girl sobbing, and Mark’s voice giving orders over it all, saying something like “move it to the corner, cover it with something”. I knew from that moment that something very wrong was happening. I sat up and blinked to clear my vision. I could see men’s figures in the corner, dragging something, struggling under its weight. What was it? I squinted to see in the dark. A sack? No… \n\nThat was the moment I realised the residue in my cup was off-colour. \n\nThat was the moment I realised my son was no longer in my arms. \n\nThat was the moment I saw the gun. \n\n\t\t\t\t\nFor the first week, they kept me tied up. \n\nWhen I tired of struggling, they stopped bothering to tie me. Now they just kept me under constant watch. A month has passed since that night. Still we have had no sign that life outside of this bunker has survived. The surveillance Mark enforced upon me has been slacking recently. Twice this week I have awoken in the night to find the whole bunker is asleep. I have no plan yet, but I’m working on it. These people will pay for what they’ve done.\nFirst Mark; always be sure to take down the leader. Then the soft voiced man (I learned last week that his name is David); there will be a certain macabre pleasure in seeing those cruel eyes widen in fear as he realises what is happening. Then the men who carried my son’s body and left it in the corner of the room to rot. Then the innocent bystanders who did nothing to prevent this murder. \n\nThis is not a question of right or wrong; this is a question of survival.\n\nThese people don’t deserve to be the survivors. \n\n\t\t\t\t\n\nFirst time writing, would love to hear some opinions, I know this turned out a bit dark! Also was unsure if this should be finished at the first grey line (stuff about gun), or continued to the current ending, what do people think? \n", "\"We have to kill the boy\"\n\nThe words echoed in Mark's ears like a gunshot. This was his wife talking. He'd known her for 25 years, she knew him better than anyone else, but he couldn't understand what was going through her mind tonight. Her face was pressed against the glass of the nursery; fingernails sliding up and down on the pane. \n\n\"I saw him. Those eyes.... He's going to come for us.\"\n\n\"Honey, that's our boy. Our first CHILD. He is going to grow up beautiful and smart just like his mother. I promise, hun, everything is going to be ok. We'll get through this.\"\n\n\"Get through this? There's nothing to get through. That monster is a killer. We have to stop this. He has to die.\"\n\nHe escorted her back to the bed and stayed with her until she was asleep. A few hours later the doctor came into the room. \"Mr. Barrigan, would you like to meet your baby?\" As hard as the day had been, nothing could have prepared him for the emotions that filled him now. As he walked through the hall he felt excited, overjoyed, overwhelmed, and terrified. He and Gina had been trying to conceive for years and it finally happened. Will I be a good father? Will I be able to provide? Will I have to do this alone? He paused. He didn't know if Gina's condition was permanent. What if she couldn't recover? Would she think their son was a monster forever? Can she be trusted with him?\n\n Before he could answer any of these things for himself he was at the door. His mind went blank. He walked in and heard his voice. It sounded like an angel, fitting that he would resemble his namesake. As he lifted angel up into his arms he felt tears stream down his face. \"Your home\" he choked. For hours he sat there staring at his firstborn. None of it mattered. Everything in the world was in his arms. In that moment his fears were crushed and he knew. Knew that no harm would come to this child, and he would do everything for him. He looked through the glass at Gina and smiled. She smiled back.", "\"We have to kill the boy!\" a voice cries out.\n\nDark clouds surround a mob of death hungry tyrants as the ground rumbles to the sound of one thousand footsteps.\n\nA helpless boy peeks around the corner from the dark alley he swiftly managed to turn into. The rotting smell of food is pungent like rotting bodies in his nose as he deeply inhales to catch his breath.\n\n\"He's over this way\" a voice echo's out.\n\nThe boy quickly pulls his peeking eyeball back out from around the corner and murmurs a few words under his breath. Flickering flames bounce off the rotting like walls from the buildings surrounding him in a district simply known as \"The Alleys of the Dead.\" \n\nHe quickly turns and starts his way deeper into the alley as the lucid orange flames fade slowly like candles in the distance. Puddles echo along the long brick passage as he steps in one after another drowning his feet in the cold liquid.\n\nThump\n\nHis knee takes the fall when he hits the ground as something soft trips him in the darkness. His torn jeans now slowly absorb the blood trickling out the small but deep cut. The stinging doesn't catch his attention as he peers to the shadow of what tripped him in the flicking flames from the distance. \n\nThe body of another boy, cold as the hand that rests against the opening between his sock and pants he unfortunately stumbled over. -\n\nThis is my first time writing in a prompt on here, Sorry to cut it off but perhaps i'll finish later tonight, I'm writing this on my lunch break at work\n\n-Continued\n\nHis breathing picks up in a panic as he clumsily kicks the hand away. Quick to his feet he stands hunched over briefly trying to make out the figure of the rested body. Could it be? Someone he knows? A lot of his friends have mysteriously disappeared in the last weeks, but it was not uncommon for people to turn a blind eye to these reports.\n\nAs dark and quiet as the alley seemed to be for the moment, no silence could be found in his thoughts as his mind ran almost insane with overlapping questions but there is no time.\n\n\"I must keep going\" he thought to himself.\n\"I cannot stop right now\"-\n\nRight then the flickering of light down the cobblestone pathway turned into a strong glow. A torch followed by a flood of voices direct in his path looked on in observance.\n\n\"He had to have gone this way\" a scratchy but deep voice bellows out.\n\"Are you sure?\" a woman's voice called out this time.\n\nMore torches continue to gather around the lead of the pack and the glow now progresses into a shine. The boy cautiously takes a step back with his right foot as he feels the shakiness of his knees attack him like a swarm of wasps protecting their nest. Something stops him. A hard surface.\n\n\"Fuck\" He whimpers in a screechy almost inaudible tone. A memory of his grandfather triggers to his mind as he remembers hearing the first time he heard him openly cuss in front of him.\n\nThe boys arm quickly swings behind him and slaps a cold damp rough brick wall. With all that had happened only hours before, he could not fathom how everything lead to this one moment. His back now directly pushed against the solid brick as his hands frantically searched for something, anything.\n\nFootsteps start to progress down the previously blackened passage as the puddles that soaked his feet now thunder in his mind like unruly waves hitting a cargo ship at sea. His knees start to buckle as if rain the previously fell weighs down on him like a heavy weight.\n\n\"Hey\" a Light whisper slithers to his ear \n\"Right here\"\n\nThe boy turns his head but even with the growing glow that approaches him, simply cannot make out what hes looking at. \n\nRight then a hand grasps on his frail wrist and with a tug pulls him through a narrow passage no bigger than the size of his underweight body as his shirt rips and tatters along the opening while scraping at his hip.\n\nDrip, Drip\n\nWater drips in an enclosed echo of what seems to be a small room darker than the alley he first peered down.\nHe could feel the movements of this person probably no older than himself shimmy to the opening and block it with a foreign object, cancelling the only light aiding his view.\n\nBoth bodies now heavily breathing in the darkness as the faint noises of the alley seep through the slim cracks of the brick. What were strong clairvoyant voices now only sound like muffled inaudible murmurs as the pack reached the end of the alley and only peered into the dead end. \n\nIt was only just seconds ago that the boy was ready to succumb to his fate, and now he lays hunched over with a strange person in what feels like a small, wet, cold and dark compartment. He is alive. Only by chance. -\n\nSorry I have no ending to this at the moment, I really just rolled with where ever it was taking me. Probably not the best layout for a short story, but if there is any interest in me continuing I can sleep on it. I really enjoyed exploring this with you guys. As I continued to explore my options in direction, it may seem that I will write out a whole spiel including more of a background to this story. I kinda started to get deep into thought with this and would like to explore where this journey takes me and this boy. Thanks for the notes and corrections, I'm obviously not well vised in literature as much as I like to express but I truly enjoyed this opportunity of expression.", "„We have to kill the boy!”\n\nMac couldn't believe his wife's words. He's never seen her like this before, completely consumed by fear and hatred. He stared hard into Beth's eyes in search for the woman he once married. \n\n“I can't do it. Can you?” - Mac asked.\n\n“Well, I can't either. I-I just can't.” - she answered. \n\n“Then why the fuck are you brining it up? Don't you know how crazy you sound?” he said irritated. \n\n“Listen, I know it sounds crazy and I know I can't do it, but we have to. That boy, that thing. It's a monster” - her voice was shaking from fear.\n\n“What? He looks just like a normal kid. He's just … different” - he said.\n\n“Different? HE TORE HIS CRIB IN HALF” - Beth screamed. \n\nSuddenly they heard a scream. The sound of a baby crying echoed in their house. Beth looked at her husband with tears in her eyes.\n\n“I'm not going in there. I don't ever want to touch him again.” - she said, fighting back the tears.\n\n“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? YOU WANT ME TO KILL HIM? I CAN'T” - Mac shouted.\n\n“You have to, please, you have to.” - Beth begged her husband.\n\nMac paced around the room, trying to stay calm but with little to no success. He felt a burning anger and disgust when he looked at his wife.\n\n“I told you not to take the kid. I told you to call CPS.”\n\n“But we didn't and now that thing is here”\n\n“Because of you. YOU wanted to take him. YOU.”\n\nThey both stood in their room in complete silence. Seconds felt like hours and hours felt like ages. It seemed like they didn't even hear the baby cry anymore.\n\n“What if he accidentally kills another child, what if he kills us? Look at how strong he is now. He wasn't that strong when we took him. What if he becomes ever stronger?” - Beth finally spoke up.\n\nShe wanted a response but didn't get one. Mac just stood here, his look was begging her not say what she was about to say.\n\n“I'm asking a lot from you, but we both know that we have to do it. He's just too big of a danger for anyone. We need to kill him while we still can.” \n\nMac sat down in a chair, hiding his face in his hands. He didn't want anyone looking at him right now. Deep down he knew Beth was right. That was the worst part. He had to do the most horrible and gruesome thing in his life so far.\n\n“Okay” - he mumbled.\n\n“What?” - she asked in disbelief.\n\n“I said okay. I'll do it.”\n\nBeth sat on the floor next to him and grabbed his hand. Seeing the love of her life like that broke her hearth but she knew nothing would make Mac feel better. \n\n“It's okay baby. I'm here for you.” - she tried comforting him. \n\n“How do we do it?” - Mac asked.\n\n“I don't know. Maybe take him back where we found him, leave his body in that thing he came in here”.\n\n“That metal thing? Ok.”\n\nMac stood up, his feet felt like heavy rocks. Each step tired him like a marathon run. He entered the boy's room and discovered that the baby wasn't crying anymore, it was sleeping. The peaceful look on it's face only made what was about to be done that much harder. Mac covered the baby in a red blanket and took it in his arms. Together they got in a car, embarking on a journey only one of them would survive. \n\nThere are no words in the English language to describe how he felt during the ride. His mind was constantly changing. One second he felt like he was doing the right thing, the next moment everything in him was screaming to turn the car around. But he didn't. Finally he reached his destination. They found a boy next to a dirt road, in the middle of a field. He didn't remember anymore why he and Beth were there in the first place. God knows, he wished they were somewhere else back then. Mac took the the still sleeping baby in his arms and walked towards the metal pod they found it in. He couldn't believe that after all this time that thing was still there. He put the baby in it and searched for something heavy on the ground, finally finding a rock. He picked it up and raised it above his head. But nothing was happening. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do it. He cursed and sobbed but he was no closer to committing that horrifying act. Eventually Mark decided to give up, maybe the boy will die on his own, maybe the animals will eat him. He got inside of his truck and drove off, thinking about what he will tell his wife.\n\nMany hours passed but the boy was still there, alive. The sun rose over the horizon and it's light shined in the baby's face hard enough to wake it up. Soon enough the boy realized he was alone and did what every child does upon such realization. He cried and screamed but no one was answering. The boy started to look around, only to find a dark blob in the distance getting bigger and louder every second. To his, child mind it was a beast. He tried to get out of the pod and hide but the “monster” was already there. It's growling stopped and it's sides opened. A man and a woman emerged from inside.\n\n“My god Martha, is that a baby?” - said the man, while stepping out of his car.\n\n“I think it is. Quick, get some water” - Martha instructed her husband and walked towards the child. She took the boy in her arms and tried to comfort him.\n\n“Shhh, it's okay. Everything is going to be fine.” - she reassured him.\n\nJonathan joined his wife with a bottle of water. He couldn't believe his eyes.\n\n“Our prayers have been answered. God finally gave us a child Martha. What should we call him?” he asked his wife.\n\n“Let's name him Clark, after your grandfather. Hmm, Clark Kent. It has a nice ring to it”.\n\nTHE END" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1438118142", "1438135614", "1438107646", "1438113666" ]
	[WP] As long as you can remember, you've had a small 49 tattooed on the back of your shoulder. Today you learned why.	12	[ "As the door of my cell opened and the light poured in, I prepared myself to die. They had kept me there for weeks, giving me just enough food to survive. They didn't kill me, although now I wish that They did. I was muzzled and hauled into another pitch black room with 99 other people. It was hours before They finally turned on the lights. That's when I realized that the others in the room, which was about as big as a football field, were me.\n\nWell, not exactly me. Some were bigger or smaller. Some wore glasses, and some had different hair. One was even in a wheelchair! That was Number 13. Poor guy. He didn't last long after They gave us our mission over the intercom. It was pure Darwinism; survival of the fittest. And the fittest was the only one that would be left alive. The room didn't instantly erupt into anarchy like you would expect. It started small. Numbers 1-10 grouping together, assuming they were the best. Number 38 slitting his own throat with one of the various weapons on the floor. The only \"fight\", if you could call it that, was between Number 26 and Number 13. It went as you would expect.\n\nNumbers 1-10 wasted no time. They each grabbed a weapon and brutally slaughtered 23 of us before they were finally taken down. Number 92 swung at me with a crowbar, but before I could do anything to him, Number 46 cut him in half with an axe. Behind me, Number 18 stabbed me with a pencil right under my tattoo. I threw his much smaller body over myself, and soon I had him on the ground, my hands around his neck. As I looked into his eyes, my eyes, I wanted to let him go, but I knew that if I let him go he would kill me. When the life finally drained from his eyes, I saw that our numbers had been culled to fifteen. When I saw Number 100, I knew why. The man was a beast. He had to have been 6\"7 and 300 lbs. I did the logical thing: I ran. In the corner of the room where I hid under the bodies of my brethren, I noticed something. A loose tile that I could barely pry open with my hands. Number 100, my last brother, sprinted towards me as I grabbed my discovery, but that didn't matter. All the muscle in the world can't stop a bullet. As I stood over his corpse, the intercom came on once more:\n\n\"Experiment 49 is a success. Initiate Phase Two.\"", "The neon street danced worlds of light off of the semi-wet pavement. I walked through their dance, creating a kaleidoscope of colors, as I headed to the Better Eyes Undercover Agency. Funny how the best place to find information is in the bottom of the slums. \n\nI opened the steel framed door to a world of little gadgets and doodads. The frontal store was a front to the wider agency hiding below, but they took in their own fair share of profits from mistrusting husbands and wives who, though were equally unfaithful themselves, had mistrust of their partner, or were just trying to gain an upper-hand advantage in some settlement or another.\n\n\"Mark!\" I heard from the far corner, next to the camera Teddy Bears and button sized \"micro-viewers.\"\n\"Hey Sizemond,\" I said with a hesitation. The hesitation of knowing a crook when you see him.\n\"Alright bro, I know you are a big Federal Incursion Agent and all, but you might want to sit down for this.\"\n\"Sizemond, I don't have time for games, just tell me what the 49 means.\"\n\"It's big business, bro.\" Sizemond said, staring into Mark's eyes. \"Supply and demand Ya' know?\" \n\"No. I hate the market.\"\n\"Shit brother, you are demand...hell we all are. people are trying to satisfy the supply.\"\n\"So I am the supply, what is the demand?\" \n\"Let's restart brother. Do you like Scotch?\"\nMark, head in hands, replied, \"Fuck Sizemond...yea I like Scotch. What does scotch have anything to do with me?\"\n\"Barrel aged, brother. The best aged for the best customers. I am not sure how to tell you without you blowing a gasket, but someone out there has a serious hankering for flesh and blood.\"\n\"Great, flesh and blood. What does that have to do with the number 49? You were supposed to be the best, why don't you tell me something that I don't know?\"\nSizemond looked up from his computer with glazed over eyes. \"I can tell you that everyone else I have found with a similar mysterious tattoo to yours has died on the same year of their birthday that has corresponded with their tattoo. 28 tattoo, died while they were 28. Nice ink done of a stylistic 34, but don't remember getting it? BAM! killed two weeks after the 34th birthday by a freak hang gliding accident. It is a mark, a sign...to when you will bite it.\"\n\nMark sighed, clearly exhausted from the search, \"And what does that have to do with blood and flesh?\" \n\"All the bodies were found with missing flesh, cut clean off, and almost no blood left in their system. I think they are harvesting. Whoever 'they' are.\"\n\"And the younger the person, the cheaper their their harvest? How much for an almost 50 year old vintage?\" \n\"...I dunno,\" Sizemond said in a whisper.\n\n\"I'm 49 now....my tattoo, 49.\"\n\"I am not sure I should be here,\" Mark whispered.\n\nKnock, knock, knock, sounded from the entrance door.\n " ]	[ 5, 7 ]	[ "1438127126", "1438120114" ]
	[WP] Hitler slips past security and sneaks into Heaven. Everything goes into lock-down and God assembles his security advisers.	27	[ "'Jesuuuuusss!'\n\n'Yes....dd..aa...dd', mumbled Jesus in reply. He hadn't seen his father so angry since he snuck out for a night on earth and had ended up being captured by the Romans and nailed to a cross. \nGod's eyes narrowed as he struggled to compose himself. 'Did I, or did I not put you in charge of security around here?'. \n\n'Umm....yes'. \n\n'Do you know why I did that?'. In the distance thunder roared and the rains came crashing down. A sure sign that dad was really pissed. \n'Umm...because Lucifer defected and you needed someone you could trust?'. Dad's brow formed a furrow as he processed the words. I could sense that for the briefest of moments he forgot why he was so angry in the first place. Sometimes he was a tad forgetful, but one can forgive a man for losing a few marbles once he's as old as dad. 'Someone you could trust, dad?', I offered helpfully to jog his memory. The rage boiled up again as he regained his train of thought. \n'Yes, someone I could trust!' he thundered. 'Do you have any idea how much shit you have got us into this time?'. I could sense one of dad's rather long monologues coming so I braced myself for the onslaught. \n\n'I'm running out of superlatives to describe, the magnitude of your fuck up's Jesus, but let us quickly recap for the benefit of my security goons I have present here today, who I might add are all equally bereft of any talents in security. So, there was that time I decided to go to the Opera with your mother and I came home, to what? A fucking Ice Age? You cunted up the planet so badly that everything died! How? I cannot even begin to comprehend the ineptitude needed to screw things up that badly! Then there was the time you decided to sneak off for a bit of 'Me time' as you put it and ended up being crucified by the Roman's. I managed to smooth that over with a bit of propaganda, but look where that got us. A never ending war in the Middle East'. \n\nDad was positively salivating with rage by now and I took my chance in hi next pause to mount my defense. 'Ok, dad....I get it'. Unfortunately words completely failed me and not for the first time in my life. \n\n'Ok, dad?. That's it? You were off God does not know where and all I get is an \"Ok, dad?\". What was it this time? Gambling? Actually, you know what, I don't want to know. Just find that bloody Hitler and make sure you bring him to me'. \n\n\n/END. I ran out of creative juice at the end. \n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Holy father above us Peter!\" Michael roared with the ferocity and authority that only the right hand of God could manage \"You let WHO into Heaven!?\"\n\n\"Well, you see, uh...\" Peter stammered and stopped, terrified at the visage of the incandescent being of near almighty power and indignation that stood before him.\n\n\"I DON'T SEE!\" Michael lashed out again \" That is entirely the problem!\"\n\n\"Gabriel, Raphael, Castiel, why haven't you brought before me this miserable pile of sins called a man?\"\n\nGabriel tried to soothe his older, wrathful brother \"Mistakes happen Michael, to err is human.\"\n\n\"That doesn't explain why YOU haven't found him yet!\"\n\n\"Michael\" Raphael started \"We have searched high and low, from the pearly gates to the grand ascension, we cannot find him, can we be truly sure that he even remains in heaven? Perhaps Peter was mistaken, after all it is easy to confuse the myriads of human souls that spark and fade with every passing moment.\"\n\nPeter now rose up. He had made a mistake, his vigilance waned and a sinner got the best of him, but the thought that he had mistaken Hitler for another Human soul was beyond his ability to lay silent as the Archangels spoke among him.\n\n\"No. I wish it were my mistake in that I confused him. But I did not. For ages I have recognized every face that has come to these gates, and saw upon those faces the weight of their sins, and weighed them upon the scales, checked their deeds against my scroll. I have welcomed the righteous and sent away the wicked.\" Peter spoke with even timbre and sincerity.\n\nThe Archangels stopped and listened to the Saint.\n\n\"But this man? He may seem unimportant in the ages that pass in the blink of an eye for your kind, but on Earth? To we mankind? He is a devil!\" Peter spoke out venomously.\n\n\"He has propagated hate, orchestrated genocide, and spread lies and evil wherever he went!\"\n\nThe Archangels, now fully comprehending the severity of the situation, that it was not simply a sinner that defiled God's holy paradise, but a king among sinners, a truly wicked and vile man.\n\n\"Alright\" Michael started \"Once again, summon the heavenly host, scour the entirety of paradise, I shall assist you with this task as well\" he said joining his brothers.\n\n\"And what am I to do?\" Peter asked meekly.\n\n\"Continue as you have always done, and stand fast in your charge\" Michael said with a smile, his temper cooling and his love for his fathers creation again restored.\n\nThe minutes turned to hours and eventually Michael summoned his brothers to the first step of the Grand Ascension.\n\n\"My brothers, it is time. It is time we inform our father of our failure.\"\n\nThe Archangels stood deathly still until Gabriel spoke up \n\n\"I can look again, I can find him, but please grant us more time, our Father will be so filled with wrath! What punishment would he lay upon us should we fail him in protecting his sanctuary!?\" \n\n\"None that we didn't deserve my brother\" Raphael said with a deep sigh and resignation about him. \"We cannot escape our fate.\"\n\n\"I cannot bear the idea of being cast out!\" cried out Castiel \"What if we are damned as Lucifer was!?\"\n\n\"My brothers enough!\"\n\nMichael silenced his brothers, walked back and forth for a moment contemplating his course of action.\n\n\"I shall speak to our Father\" Michael said finally \"I shall beg of him forgiveness, and have him right this wrong.\"\n\nA wave of relief passed over the Archangels, Michael the favoured son, would do the unsavoury task at hand. He would beg Gods forgiveness, enlist his help, and...suffer his wrath. They held hope for their brother that their Father would be merciful.\n\nMichael began his ascension up the grand staircase leading to his Fathers private domain. He thought of his accomplishments and his failings, and prayed the former weighed heavier than the latter. He thought of how a single human had tricked them, evaded them, and shamed them. He tried to wash his feelings of wrath towards this 'Hitler' away. He needed to focus on his task at hand.\n\nAs he entered Gods domain, and walked into his study, he found his Father in the company of another. But who could it be? Who else would dare intrude upon his Fathers solitude?\n\nIn the chair next to the Lord, sipping from a glass a fine drink that was beyond the imagining of mortal souls, sharing a laugh with his Highness, was a short man with dark hair and a funny mustache.\n\nIt couldn't be! Could it? But how!? Michaels mind searched desperately for an answer but came up empty handed.\n\n\"My Father, My Lord, His Highness in the Heavens above, Master of All creation and..\" Michael began but was interrupted by his Father.\n\n\"Yes Michael, what is it? Can you not see I am entertaining company!?\"\n\n\"My Father!\" Cried Michael \" That is precisely why I come to you so, you see this Man has sneaked into Heaven, he shouldn't be Here!\"\n\n\"Was it your task to decide who is worthy to enter my domain Michael?\" The Lord spoke, quietly ,but with an authority that was unmistakeable.\n\n\"No my Lord, but...\"\n\n\"But what?\" The Lord asked ponderously.\n\n\"But he is a sinner amongst sinners! He has lived without accord to your teachings!\" Michael began with earnesty and desperation in his voice in equal measure, hoping for his father to understand why he was so worried. \n\n\"Yes.\" The Lord stated simply.\n\n\"He has spread hate, ignorance and lies!\"\n\n\"Yes\"\n\n\"He has committed violence, murder and genocide against his fellow man\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"He must be cast down!\" Michael cried emphatically.\n\n\"No, he shall stay In Heaven.\"\n\n\"Why my lord, why must he stay?\" Michael pleaded for clarity.\n\n\"My son, you have overlooked his good deeds.\" The Lord stated.\n\n\"What? What possible great act of decency could he have done that could have redeemed him so?\"\n\n\"Well\" The Lord said with a shrug \"He did kill Hitler.\"" ]	[ 3, 25 ]	[ "1438159630", "1438139999" ]
	[WP] After spending years in college studying to get your law degree, you are now a brand new lawyer and you've been hired by Satan himself to be his defense attorney. You are now, quite literally, the devil's advocate.	27	[ "\"This is Satan?\" \n\n\"Yes, Mr. Ronalds.\"\n\n\"Then I quit.\" \n\n\"You cannot do that.\" \n\n\"Yes I can. I quit. I have a right to quit.\"\n\n\"If you win, Douglas, then you will be rich. You will have won against God. Or the Mouthpiece of--\" \n\n\"You think I care, Emily? I practice family law. I wanted to help kids in hard places. And this is the guy who makes daddy drink too much, that makes Mommy hit-- No. I won't do this. I have seen his work and I want nothing to do with it.\" \n\n\"You will regret this.\" \n\n\"No. I don't think I will.\"", "“The Pope?”\n\n“Yeah…the Pope is on line one.”\n\n“Emily, if this is George I’m going to be very angry.”\n\n“Michael, if George suddenly learned Italian then you can yell at me.”\n\nA deep sigh escapes Michael’s lips as he picks up the receiver. Graduated top of his class at Harvard Law and immediately hired into Baker & McKenzie only to be stuck with entry level clients and prank calls.\n\n“Hello?”\n\nA deep voice speaks an accented English in your ear.\n“Hello. This is Pope Francis.”\n\n“Uh huh.”\n\n“There has been some startling revelations in the church, son. We’ve found Satan’s physical presence and we need you.”\n“Uh huh.”\n\n“Is there an issue, Michael?”\n\n“Very funny George.”\n\nThe voice breaks into sharp sounding Italian, a click puts you on hold. Another click signals a transfer.\n\n“Michael.”\n\n“Mr. Leite?”\n\n“Yes you dumbshit. Now listen to me. You’re working this case with the Pope because somehow out of 4,200 lawyers you’re the only fucking Catholic, and the Popa only works with fucking Catholics. This is the real deal, now listen to the guy. If he transfers you back to me, your ass can work for Saul Goodman for all I care.”\n\nThe line clicks again. Michael stammers into the receiver. “I-I-I’m so sorry your holiness. Your wish is my command.”\n\n“I’m glad you’ve come around. I need you to listen carefully. Back a long time ago, the church had a position for a bishop, devils advocate. I’m sure you’re familiar with the term as a lawyer.”\n\n“Of course your holiness.”\n\n“Well kiddo, you’re the devils advocate.”\n\n“Wait. The actual devil?”\n\n“The actual devil.”\n\n“May I ask why, sir?”\n\n“He needs representation in matters of the church since naturally there’s a great bias against him.”\n\n“…Won’t the arch-bishops know that I’m working for the devil and still be biased against me?”\n\n“This is strictly between you and me, Michael. You’re officially hold the position of the devil’s advocate and unofficially you’re actually the devil’s advocate.”\n\n“Oh…kay.”\n\n“The devil will be sending his client paper work in a moment.”\n\nAnd just like that a parchment as black as the stillest of nights squirms out of the carpet. Michael picks it up and reads it, fairly standard representation clause. Minus all the text being written in blood.\n\n“I don’t see anywhere to sign your holiness.”\n\n“You have to stamp the paper with your bloody thumb. Archaic I know, but it’s just how things work now a days.”\n\nMichael slices his thumb on a fountain pen and stamps it on the paper. It explodes into spiders that crawl into the lobby. Distant screams are heard.\n“Thank you, Michael.” The line clicks dead.\n\n“Your welcome?”\n\nWith a flash of fire the devil appears in the chair in front of Michael’s desk. The most beautiful man Michael has ever seen sits before him. Luscious black hair falls around the mans ears. His face holds perfect symmetry and unsetting black eyes gaze into Michaels. A perfectly straight nose and a brilliant white smile flashes Michael. \n\n“Hello.”\n\n“Hello Mr. Satan.”\n\n“I detest formalities, you may call me the Satan.”\n\n“As you wish, Satan.”\n\n“I’m now your only client. I’ll pay you $400,000 a year with chances for overtime, hookers, and if you stay with me for five years I can guarantee hell as a paradise for when you die.”\n\n“Am I going to hell?”\n\nSatan takes out a black notebook and flicks open to a page.\n\n“Saying God’s dead every time you miss a shot in soccer has definitely put you in my book.”\n\n“When do I start?”\n\n“Next week. Oh I nearly forgot, you will of course have free reign over hell. You’ll need to spend some time there to work with me.\n\n“Not a problem.”\n\n“I don’t expect you to win this case I’m presenting to my good friend Francis, but I simply want to test your abilities.”\n\n“Sounds exciting, what will I be doing?”\n\n“I’m nominating Hitler for sainthood.”\n\n“I understand. We’ll go with the Jews killing Jesus rhetoric.”\n\n“You read my mind exactly, Michael. I think we’ll get along swimmingly.”\n", "I took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then exhaled. The hot air of the sauna opened my pores and helped me think. I guess it couldn't be too bad, there are two sides to every story after all, and someone had to stick up for the side everyone loved to hate. \n \nSo that was it, I would do it. The facts were simple: I was a lawyer, I needed work, and before me stood a potential client who had been accused of and blamed for thousands of atrocities throughout the ages. Plus the pay and benefits were down right phenomenal. \n \nAfter a quick shower I made my way over to my closet where a perfectly tailored suit had been ordered for me. Black pinstripe three piece suit, black silk shirt, thin red silk tie, black belt, black socks, jet black leather shoes (freshly polished of course), and a red pocket silk (to match the tie, it was the little things that made the difference). As I tightened the tie around my neck and tucked the pocket silk into the breast pocket of my jacket I couldn't help to think \"Ya got to hand it to 'em, may be the representation of evil as we know it, but Satan knows how to look good.\" I picked up the briefcase that was provided and headed outside to the car that was waiting. \n \nAfter arriving at the offices and going through the usual pleasantries I found myself seated at a table in an a conference room across the table from none other than Satan. \n\"So have you made a decision?\" \n\"Yes, I am glad to accept your position, although I'm not sure about the title of Devil's advocate.\" \n\"Alright then, I'll just need you to sign this contract here\" \n\"Sure, great, got a pen?\" \n\"Buddy, this is me we are talking about, ya sign in blood.\" \n\"Right, of course.\" \nSomewhat reluctantly I pricked my thumb with a needle and signed the paperwork in blood, selling my soul to the devil, but let's be honest, that still makes me a better person than most lawyers. " ]	[ 2, 2, 4 ]	[ "1438214661", "1438238537", "1438226805" ]
	[WP] Humanity has left the earth but their gods cannot	19	[ "Today I descend from my lofty pedestal and venture out into a world I care deeply for, yet but distantly recall. Past events have afforded me this luxury, as before my children had left me, I could not traverse this land I created so long ago. Although limited, the constant devotion, undying and sincere, was enough to sustain my spirit far more than any amount of sensory pleasure could provide. In return, I showered them in my blessings and protection as a sign of perpetual gratitude. I loved them deeply. However, now that they are gone on their silver vessels and I have no fear of overwhelming them with my presence, I depart my cloistered palace and experience what is left of this dying world. Perched atop a gently-sloping mountain, my gilded cage is crumbling slowly, reflecting the state of its past inhabitant. I do not have much longer to remember my august creation and would like to see what has come of it, so the ivied columns and cracked balustrades that have become so intimately familiar must now be forsaken. \n\n--\n\nI don't normally write, but I figured I'd give this one a try, I like it. Critique me, please?\n\n", "A silence fills the barren grave, all are gone, cannot be saved.\n\nAs machine and metal fled the land, towers and temples turned to sand.\n\nMan's damnation, now concluded. Flesh and faith, now deluded.\n\nRighteous and sinful, rendered according to their deeds.\n\nNow, a cycle begins anew, I have sown the seeds,\n\nonly again for them to leave.\n\nAdam.\n\nAnd Eve." ]	[ 6, 16 ]	[ "1438315256", "1438311045" ]
Or describe why the kid got a C. Edit: wow. I didn't expect this many responses. Thanks guys!	[WP] Our universe was created by a kid for a school project. He got a C. Describe a universe that got an A.	672	[ "\"This is unfair, this is BULLSHIT!\", god shouted, his face contorting into a pout. God's lower lip began to quiver, as he held back tears. God stood up and shouted at the teacher, \"Her's just like mine, you just likes her better!\" The teacher turned to god and said, \"Get thyself to the Principal's office immediately, or I shall smite thee!\", and pointed toward the door. God stomped through the doorway slamming it behind him.", "The bell rang for the end of the lecture and there was a bustle as the students started packing their bags, desperate to escape their electromagnetism lecturer to get to the pubs for the weekend. The lecturer raised his voice to be heard, \n\"So remember, the salient points from this lecture - just like electric charge, magnetic monopoles exist, as shown theoretically by the symmetry of Maxwell's equations!\"", "Our teacher glanced at his uninspired universe with contempt. \"Your universe is inherently flawed,\" he said condescendingly, \"Based on your model, it will inevitably collapse and expand seemingly forever. For that lack of oversight, your grade for this project will be a 'C'.\" The faces of his teammates, once lifted in anticipation, dissolved into a grimace of defeat and sorrow. In hushed whispers, each member spat out accusations as to whose lack of effort led to the unfortunate grade. \n\n\"I TOLD you guys it was because Jack couldn't figure out the gravity equations, seriously!\"\n\n\"No it's not even that, it was doomed from the beginning. A universe created via cataclysmic explosions? I told you guys it'd never work.\" \n\n\"You're both wrong, we didn't spend enough time on the atomic level.\"\n\n\"...Well...I thought it was pretty good, anyways...\"\n\nThe teacher moved on to the next project. As he approached, his eyebrow sublty lifted over his right eye, conveying earnest interest. \"Please, explain the model of your universe to me,\" he said. I was the leader of our group, so the duty fell to me. I didn't choose the position, but rather had it thrust upon me by the unwilling majority. I stood and cleared my throat.\n\n\"Our model is simple, in design. We invented a universe based on the principle that matter is neither created, nor destroyed. It has always existed, and will continue to exist forever. We spaced out all of the galaxies so they might affect each other with the same amount of gravitational pull. As such, each galaxy takes a turn being in the center, before migrating outwards. There is no collapse and restart, just periods of time where every entity is asked to share the burden.\"\n\nThen, I waited. My teacher walked around our model several times, leaning in occasionally to inspect one element or another more closely. I glanced over at my teammates who were nodding and smiling approvingly. After a moment, he stepped back.\n\n\"The design is solid, yet I must ask...where is all of the life? As far as I can see, none of these planets seem capable of producing any.\"\n\nI could feel my heart sink into my stomach, as a slight pang of panic washed over my nerves. We had totally forgotten to add in that aspect. I looked at my team, all of whom were sharing the same look if fear. \n\n\"Well? I eagerly await your answer,\" my teacher remarked. I knew that if I said we had forgotten, we might end up in the 'C' grade given to the previous team. \n\n\"That's on purpose!\" I blurted out. I could hear a gasp come from the collective classroom. Why would I say something like that? Of any answer I could have given, that was the stupidest. \n\n\"On purpose, you say? Please, elaborate.\"\n\n\"Well...we sorta figured that, you know, life as it evolved thus far hasn't really done anything to promote stability in any universe.\" I was bullshitting, and I knew it. \"So, we thought maybe a perfect universe is one where that doesn't come into play. We figured that the absence of life, especially intelligent life, would keep our universe more in tact.\" At that, I had nothing left to say. I put a wager on the line, hoping that our teacher wouldn't find my newly crafted theory complete and utter garbage. He waited to speak for what seemed like an eternity. Sweat had made my hands all clammy, and my mouth was running dry. \n\n\"Your theory intrigues me, I award your team an 'A' for originality and creativity. I'd be very much interested to see how this universe plays out.\"\n", "OK here goes:\n\nParents night:\nA tall woman, face shrouded with a black swirling void comes to a table in the large hall and takes a seat opposite a teacher. The teacher is busy clearing up from a previous meeting and shuffles some dimensions about his table as he organises himself.\nFinally he shakes the woman's hand and nods to the little being sat next to her, all snot and loose shoes laces.\n\n\"A hello Mrs Spirit I'm sorry to bring you in on this but I am a little concerned by Gods work of late, I'm afraid his grades are starting to slip.\"\n\n(Charlie Brown adults wha whas)\n\n\"Yes I realise with the whole creating the universe and all things that ever were will be and so on and so on but you see little God here hasn't really done a fantastic job of keep his little patch of existence running smoothly of late.\"\n\n(Wa Wha?)\n\n\"Yes, you see God has design his section to be far to separated from the rest of existence, you see here (pulls up a galaxy) everything was going fine up till God decided to allow other celestial beings to add in their own work, now far be it from me to suggest he was mearly allowing others to do his work for him, however he has ended up with quite a hog podge of creations at his feet. \"\n\n(Waaaaah)\n\n\"Yes quite.\"\n\n\"Now if we look at the start of the all known existence we see he was on his way to a good start, top marks for lighting the flame and getting it going, whilst also hiding all the equipment that begin it in a concept of non time based theory, but right after that is when things started to brake down. \"\n\n-The Mrs Spirit looks closer at the beginning of time-\n\n\"You see here he left strands of chaos and void to spread out all the sections of the given light, which in turn allowed sections to cool and form, not a great way to ensure a nice a clean spread of suns and spacial bodies.\"\n\n-The teacher pulls up another universe-\n\n\"Now if you look here this is one of our A grade students, their work has a clean almost uni-formal look to the spreading of the stars and galaxies, beings have potential to spread themselves out if they so wish and due to the distances they can even cross the short gaps in a few thousand years and communicate with each other. Its basically a very well connected system.\"\n\n-The ball of existence bobs up and down, spinning slowly as its lights twinkle and ships cross its expanse slowly-\n\n\"Best is that they even keep to their galaxies for the most part, so no need to keep high maintenance on those that slip past the bubble of known space.\"\n\n-Mrs Spirit looks at the ball in fascination, god sits and rubs one foot along the other in nervousness.-\n\n\"Anyway that's what we have on that one\"\n\n-The teacher slaps hands together through the bubble and it ceases to be.-\n\n(Wha)\n\n-Gods ball of existence slowly spins, its galaxies twist in a much more lumpy fashion.-\n\n\"Yes, so moving onwards a few millennia we have the first few signs of life forming, nothing to special a few organisms of the lowest form. Barely anything worth mention, although it does seem he piled a lot of the ingredients for life in one lump of rock, here you see.\"\n\n-points at a small forming orb covered in lava and ash-\n\n\"Now whilst there isn't anything in the rules about applying nearly all of ones resources to a singular planet, it is considered better to spread the love as it were a little more among several planets, so that if things progress they have someone to talk too.\"\n\n-The teacher gives the cosmos a spin with his hand and time and space fast forwards. -\n\n\"Ok so here is where my main concern lies, its with Gods attempt to \"reset\" as it were his past mistakes, now you know we here can only allow one creation of all life per student, there isn't any preferential treatment for any of our students. Regardless of outcome we must ask that God keeps to his work and make the best of it. Which is why we have several times had to take his existence away from him till he has calmed down enough to think about things rationally.\"\n\n-Here the teacher points out things like the a giant comet, a large flood and several poorly design choices through out.-\n\n(waaa whaaaa)\n\n\"Yes I understand he is a single child but he is also a non conceptual 3 way being between yourself, him, and as you'll see a third he created when he was in one of his desperate moods. \"\n\n-Mrs Spirit gasps-\n\n\"Yes its not seen favourably to go and plant yourself into the lower life forms world but it seems he had found a loop hole in the paperwork about influencing others and took it literally to mean putting himself into a lower plane of existence and TALK! to them.\"\n\n-Mrs Spirit glowers at God-\n\n\"It wouldn't be so bad but his past temper tantrums had cause a mess of ideologies and theorems that have cultivated a swath of minor beings to believe that there is a multitude of high level organisms ruling their lives.\"\n\n(Wha wha? wha wa wa wah.)\n\n\"Yes I know that but they shouldn't, at least not yet! , its anarchy down there. These beings are laying waste to everything that was created and they each believe they are doing it for a different higher being. To add to the wound, he plants himself into various forms and then tried to bestow knowledge to them.\"\n\n(Wha wa?)\n\n\"Yes I know he might have been trying to help but he keeps forgetting he is talking to microscopic intelligences, they cant begin to fathom what he's saying with enough scope to cover the whole swave of problems and situations that will arise.\nWorst of all is he barely stays long enough to let the poor blighters even ask a second question. That or when he does stay he is playing cruel tricks on them, which I might add Mrs Spirit we here take a very dim view on those that decide to torture their creations.\"\n\n-brief pause as Mrs Spirit looks down with some embarrassment-\n\n-The teacher straightens up a little and coughs-\n\n\"However, there is some hope on the horizon, at least for the moment. \"\n\n-The teacher dips his finger into the top of the sphere and gently rotates the ball ever so slowly forwards in time.-\n\n\"Now it seems that through sheer luck the beings on this ball as starting to enter into their first phase of enlightenment.\"\n\n-He zooms in closer on the planet and shows a blur of what looks like construction of rockets, spaceships and satellites coming and going from the planet.-\n\n\"Now we can see that they have a will to explore which is a remarkable feat of perseverance in all the odds they have endured. It does show signs of promise that even though they have undoubtedly seen the distances they would have to travel they are still making the most of their situation.\nIn fact we even have a tiny object that actually passed past their belt of understanding and bounce along the walls of existence recently.\"\n\n-The teacher holds up a finger with a microscopic satellite resting on the groove of his nail.- \n\n\"We haven't had a one of these do that in a while so that's at least something to be proud of.\"\n\n-The teacher pops the object into a small box and pockets it.-\n\n\"Now as this is nearing the summer holidays I expect God will be giving over the creation to the school for safe keeping till he comes back from his vacation. The ball will be allowed to continue and will be upgraded as with the others to a larger plain of existence. During that time I hope God will have trained up a little on proper care of lower life forms, and when he is given his next set of life he will patch in the distances between the ones he has already made with some newer ones to help keep the originals from getting bored.\"\n\n-Mrs Spirit nods-\n\n\"Now I would have to say that due to his past actions the realm of existence he has is currently at around a grade D, but in light of the events of the lower beings satellite making it so quickly to the other edges of thought and understanding, we have raised it to a C. Now please don't fret there is plenty of time to improve that score in his next coming. Though lets make sure he isn't putting himself physically into the third dimension any more. Better they ascend then we go down to their level.\"\n\n-With that Mrs Spirit stands up and shake hands with the teacher and the family move away.-\n\n-A brief pause as the teacher straightens his tie, the next family comes and sits at the table.-\n\n-A large beast of a man with a flowing white beard, and with him his son, a blond haired youth swinging his toy hammer about with vigour.-\n\n\"Ah! Mr Odin how do you do, nice to see you back from your vacation at Valhalla......\"", "He didn't leave instructions on how to unite general relativity and quantum mechanics. I mean, that's a pretty dickish move, minus 20", "God gripped the chair of his throne, grimacing. He shouldn't have been surprised. His denizens had already predicted the event themselves, with their crude thought exercise about lower primates and the author known as Shakespeare. One of his imperfect people had constructed the same so-called \"perfect\" universe that had been chosen ahead of his own so many eons ago. He didn't know any longer why he sat on the throne. At first, it had been out of spite, and he had been angry. He tried punishments, prophets, divine schizophrenia, plagues, disasters, and many other tactics again and again on countless planets. All flawed, all isolated but developing in surprisingly similar ways. But one author, on one planet...\n\nHe held up the small, hard-backed book. Unassuming. Did the author know what he had stumbled upon, or did he just think himself clever? Flatland, the title read.\n\n\"Trust me to get ambitious,\" God mused. \"On the epoch when the judges embraced minimalism.\"", "My first submission to Writing Prompts. Took me awhile to write so hopefully not submitting too late for people to read it.\n\nProfessor J: I came across an interesting conversation a tricorder captured. Apparently someone forgot to enable the daily auto-delete on local environment recording. I am including the transcript as a lesson in what NOT to do in completing your final project. I have replaced the student's names to protect the guilty. We will refer to them as 'Q' and 'C'.\n\nQ: You look like death warmed over. Bad night?\n\nC: You have no idea. I was literally up all night completing my Universal Final.\n\nQ: But I saw you hanging out with Jenny at Hameed's party. I assumed you were finished.\n\nC: No, I just couldn't move forward until the compiler banged out the initial background matter for the Universe. Figured I should take a break instead of staring at the screen.\n\nQ: You could not have just started compiling last night, it would never finish in time. It takes serious time to compile an infinite universe. That's what infinite means.\n\nC: Yeah, I knew that. So I made my universe finite.\n\nQ: Finite, ha! What happens to matter that smacks into the edge, you would create a momentum paradox.\n\nC: Well I fixed that by not having an edge! My universe is finite but it curves back in on itself thus creating an edgeless loop.\n\nQ: OK that's clever... curving in on itself would force you to use an odd number of spacial dimension.\n\nC: Which I did. I used three.\n\nQ: Only three dimensions? Well damn, that's edgy.\n\nC: <Groan> Pun intended?\n\nQ: Of course. But seriously, you know a curved finite universe will not work. At some point on an infinite time line something will be accelerated to a speed where it is following itself too closely. It will start drafting on its own vortices in the space time continuum and set up a self propagating loop. \n\nC: Yeah, I crashed my Universe three times before I finally found the solution. Have a speed limit!\n\nQ: A speed limit on what?\n\nC: On everything. Matter, light, propagation of force, everything. Nothing in my universe travels faster than 2.997x10^8 meters per second.\n\nQ: 2.997x10^8 ? Why not just 3x10^8 ?\n\nC: It was. I had a rounding error and didn't have time to correct it. Nevertheless I am very proud of my speed limit. I even named it after myself, 'C'. Nothing in my universe shall ever surpass C!\n\nQ: And your megalomania once again rears its ugly head. \n I still don't see how a universal speed limit can work. An edgeless universe has no center. What are you going to measure your speed relative to?\n\nC: To anything else in the universe. No particle in my universe can move faster then C relative to any other particle. \n\nQ: But that...it wouldn't... I mean that's SO wrong! There are so many ways that would violate logic. What if you are on a planet and two spaceships are approaching from opposite sides at speed C. They would each see the other spaceship as approaching at twice C. \n\nC: I fixed that problem by distorting time as your speed approaches 'C'. The two space ships see each other as moving slower because I speed up their time perception relative to the person on the planet. \n\nQ: Your universe distorts time!??!? That's even worse! That creates paradoxes in every...\n\nC: .... which paradoxes I fixed by distorting length opposite the direction of travel. Everything flattens out if you travel to close to C.\n\nQ: Supposing that could even work. Regardless of time or length as an accelerating object hits the speed limit its sudden stop would violate conservation of energy.\n\nC: Which it did. That was the cause of universe crash #3. But I fixed that by having mass increase as you approach C. Now instead of smacking into the speed limit things just ease up to it as an object gets more and more massive thus harder and harder to accelerate.\n\nQ: So time, distance, and mass. You threw out consistency of every measurable attribute just so you could have your speed limit?\n\nC: Well -- charge is measurable in my universe too.\n\nQ: Oh really?\n\nC: But it also distorts as speed approaches C.\n\nQ: Of course it does. You've heard that two wrongs don't make a right?\n\nC: Yeah... but it turns out four wrong do! All the distortions cancel each other out and make it all work. It's really quite elegant. It's led to some really cool affects. Like if a star gets too big its escape velocity exceeds C so nothing can leave it. That includes light so it stops shinning and turns into this big black hole in space. \n\nQ: A black hole?\n\nC: Yes. I call them..... Negostars!\n\nQ: <just stairs at him blankly>\n\nC: I'm not dead set on the name. Maybe Death Stars? \n\nQ: <shakes his head>\n\nC: Spheres of Annihilation? \n Why are you so judgmental anyway? You must have had to pull a few fast ones as you got down to the finer details.\n\nQ: Actually I started working from the bottom up. I started by picking 32 flavors of quarks. I named them after the Andromadouse Pantheon.\n\nC: Oh the professor will eat that up. So you have Zeuestra quark? \n\nQ: And an Apollodonus quark, Demeteritos, Athenolus; right through the list. How did you name your quarks?\n\nC: Well -- I didn't need alot of clever names because I only used six.\n\nQ: Only six flavors of quark? Each must cover a lot of functions. What did you name them?\n\nC: I went with a more simplistic naming system. I have up quarks, and down quarks. Top quarks and bottom quarks. And... strange quarks.\n\nQ: Strange? You named a quark 'strange'?\n\nC: Yeah, and ...sigh...charm quarks.\n\nQ: Charm?... You named a sixth of the fundamental structural blocks of your reality 'charm'? What properties does the charm quark have? It can make friends easily at quark mixers? Oh wait, it can talk it's way out of traffic tickets if it exceeds C? \n\nC: By the time I named my last quark...it was 5AM .... I was not at the height of mental creativity. I was eating a certain sugary breakfast cereal to try and wake up.\n\nQ: But you can not support even a dozen fundamental forces with just 6 quarks. What did you end up using for forces?\n\nC: Well Gravity of course.\n\nQ: Of course.\n\nC: And the Strong force and Electromagnetism.\n\nQ: ...And?\n\nC: No that's it. Three fundamental forces. \n\nQ: Dude, you had to have at least four fundamental forces. That was like item two on the requirements list.\n\nC: What?!?!?\n\nQ: Yeah, four fundamental forces MINIMUM. You are so getting an 'F'.\n\nC: NO! I can't--- I'll lose my scholarship! \n\nQ: Oh man. And I was worried that I only had 14 fundamental forces. \n\nC: I can fix this. [opens remote compiler interface] I'll just add another fundamental force. I can do it right now.\n\nQ: You can not throw a new fundamental force into a completed universe. You're going to collapse your space time continuum into a sub-dimensional bubble of infinite layers.\n\nC: I can. I WILL! It will just have to be a minor force. A really really weak force. [types furiously]\n\nQ: Yes, add your weak force, I can feel its power even now. Its forcing the grading curve to shift in my favor.\n\nC: Shut up. Let me concentrate. [continues typing]\n\nQ: The professor is going to walk in any second and transmit a submit request. You're a dead man.\n\nC: Shut up! [still typing]\n\nQ: Hey, when they kick you off campus can I date Jenny? I mean, she'll be all lonely without you around.\n\nC: [ignores him and continues typing] \n\nQ: Jenny is quality girl. She has standards. You can't expect her to hang out with someone who flips burgers for a living. \n\nC: Aaaaand I think I have it.\n\nQ: So what will your weak force do.... is it a cubed increase in attraction as hot coeds approach your charm quarks? Oh-- I know, have it force two strange quarks that touch to self annihilate and create a 'goth quark'.\n\nC: No, my fundamental \"weak force\" is a substep in the transmutation of quarks from one flavor to another. But it only manifests in the transmutation produced by the decay of nuclear particles. And just to be on the safe side I have set its range at less than one thousandth of the diameter of a single proton.\n\nQ: Wow...that is...pitiful enough that it just might work. \n But let me get this straight, you created a universe that curves in on itself so that its finite without an edge. Has a speed limit for everything that only works because you threw out conservation of length, mass and even time. And its most basic particles have names that even a boy band would find stupid. \n\nC: That's right! \n\nQ: You realize that no intelligent being would believe a universe could really work that way.\n\nC: You just wait-- I bet I pull a C+!", "God hurried into his physics classroom, his homework project in tow.\n\n\"Ah, God, better late than never.\"\n\n\"Sorry sir,\" God muttered, unpacking his project; a scale model of a universe, and placing it on his desk.\n\n\"Seeming as you are the last here, why don't you put that on Knob's desk over there, for everyone to see,\" Mr. Deus-Deorum said, the cold edge of a sneer lingering on his nasal voice.\n\nGod followed the instruction, and finished unpacking his laptop. He had run the tests last night, and was very proud of his universe.\n\nMr. Deus-Deorum had advised his class to focus on the way the celestial bodies behaved around the student's specified laws of physics - but God decided to add a little extra. He had selected a planet at random, and added life to it.\n\nHe spent ages micro-biologically engineering the intricate ecosystems on it, but there was something missing; real, sentient life.\n\nSo, he created a tiny little version of himself, and added a special somebody for his mini-me to procreate with. He gave them a few test-runs before freezing his universe in a state of suspended animation and removing his mini-me and its lady-friend from it. He had something special planned for how they'd emerge.\n\nIt was perfect.\n\nMr. Deus-Deorum thought otherwise.\n\n\"Eugh! This universe needs a good spray of disinfectant!\" he exclaimed with utter disgust at seeing God's majestic giant lizards - he called them 'dinosaurs'.\n\n\"No no, you don't understand!\" God said, putting himself in front of the tiny, beautiful planet.\n\nHe pulled out a small telescope, which he handed to Mr. Deus-Deorum, and a large red button.\n\n\"Disgusting!\" his physics teacher said, peering at the miniscule lump of infested rock God fondly referred to as 'Earth'. Mr. Deus-Deorum was not a fan of micro-organisms.\n\n\"Watch,\" God said with an air of anticipation. He pushed the big red button, and a large meteor that was previously orbiting the nearby Sun reached its escape velocity and was headed straight towards Earth.\n\nIt hit with what was probably an almighty boom to the denizens of Earth, but to the class of super-colossal inter-universal adolescents and one highly disgusted high school teacher sounded like a brief and pathetic^hiss. The so-called 'dinosaurs' subsequently died in the blazing inferno, but when the ashes cleared, small furry animals began to emerge from the debris.\n\nThey developed hands and opposable thumbs, and began to pick things up. They were highly curious and sociable, but at times were ruthless and bloodthirsty.\n\nThen they learned to construct and use tools. They began to stand upright, and there was God's mini-me. God had decided to make him and his partner immortal, so they could see the entire cycle of their world. As the mammals stood gradually more and more upright, a mass migration started across the little world. They survived through a freezing ice age, many resorting to cannibalism. Mr Deus-Deorum watched in morbid fascination. Some stayed put, building houses and inventing languages, and speculating about their existence. They killed each other over it.\n\nEach century they invented new ways to kill each other more efficiently.\n\nSome 1,914 years after the birth of a well-remembered man called Jesus, they went to war with each and every one of themselves. Millions died in their own filth, choking on pieces of their own breathing organs.\n\nThey didn't learn from these events. They did it all over again, just over ten years later, all at the hands of a crazy man with a very small moustache. He had devised a way to systematically kill people in factory-like facilities.\n\nHe was beaten though.\n\nPeace did not remain. The victors began having a go at each other. They invented a horrific weapon that burned with the ferocity of the space rock that killed their lizard-like ancestors many aeons ago. \n\nThey only then began to realise the mistakes they had made. They tried to maintain the peace with a world-wide diplomatic force known as the UN.\n\nThen they managed to leave the boundaries of their own planet. Mr. Deus-Deorum watched as the miniscule little rocket ship left their atmosphere, broke apart into two, and landed on their moon.\n\nMr Deus-Deorum pulled away from the telescope.\n\n\"I've seen enough. Take this C and leave my classroom.\"\n\n\"A C? But why?\"\n\n\"Because I specifically told you to only bother with the celestial bodies, not what's on them.\"\n\n\"But I though that if-\"\n\n\"I know exactly what you were thinking, God - you wanted to impress me - but let me tell you something: creating ruthless, destructive creatures in your own image leads to terrible things happening. Watch,\" he motioned towards Earth, and to God's horror, he saw that it was consumed with fire.\n\nEverything was ablaze. It resembled a small star, burning hot for millennia. Except this star didn't burn for millennia. It burned for a few decades. All that was left was black ash.\n\n\"If I were you, I would've gone for something simple, like Knob's universe, here,\" he pointed at Knob's universe. It was small and wasn't indefinitely expanding. Stars didn't die, planets didn't leave their orbits and it was completely devoid of all life.\n\nKnob grinned a grin that in every way said \"I'm an absolute suck-up.\"\n\nGod packed his project away and left, a solitary tear rolling down his face. His class laughed and jeered at him, and he heard Knob mutter a joke about how God's behaviour resembled that of a cat.\n\nHe really lives up to his name God thought angrily as he stormed out of the school building and all the way home.\n\nHis mother wasn't home from work yet. This was good, as God absolutely hated the bitch.\n\nHe climbed the stairs to his bedroom and slumped onto his bed.\n\nHe decided to take one last look at his universe before he threw it away.\n\nCarefully this time, he took the large cardboard box from his rucksack and removed the lid. He took out his laptop, and opened it up. \n\nThe script was still running, making sure the laws of physics were being followed. \n\nGod searched for the arm of the spiral galaxy he had chosen at random to be his paradise only yesterday.\n\nHe found it, and there sat the lump of floating ash that was left of Earth. \n\nOnly it was different this time; trees began to grow from the ashes, small, rodent-like creatures foraged about the place for food, and there was something orbiting it: a spaceship. God peered through one of the little portholes, and to his astonishment, he saw a miniature version of himself along with a beautiful woman staring back at him. He waved, and they waved back, and the rest of the human survivors waved back.\n\nAnd so, the very next day God took his project to Mr Deus-Deorum and showed him how the humans had learned to live with each other's differences, and how they came back to Earth, and nurtured it, and life flourished on it for all eternity. Mr Deus-Deorum was impressed, and gave him an B+. It wasn't quite as good as Knob's grade, but God knew that his universe was leaps and bounds better than that pretentious prick's universe, and that was better than any grade in the universe.", "\"You see Jimmy I'd have loved to give you an A, maybe even an A star for this\" Mrs Karbunkle glanced between Jimmy, who sat dejectedly clutching a slip of paper with a big fat C written on it, and her clipboard. Above Jimmy's head sat a banner reading: Jimmy H Christ and the Fantastic Self Creating Universe. \"Unfortunately there were a couple of things that took your mark down quite a bit.\"\n\n\"W-what w-was it Mrs K? W-what did I do w-wrong?\" Jimmy asked, holding tears back behind his thick lensed glasses. \n\n\"Well Jimmy for starters you didn't actually create anything, you just shoved a load of different gasses and material, including my keys, into a box and threw a match in. You gave Mr Jones a heart attack.\"\nMr Jones, the school janitor, lay by the door of the school assembly hall. Above him two paramedics were charging up a defibrillator. \n\"Secondly\"\n\n\"CLEAR!\" One of the paramedics slammed the paddles down onto Mr Jones's chest. \n\n\"Secondly, a by-product of your project seems to be the creation of a nasty little species on a planet over here\" Mrs Karbunkle guided Jimmy to a small blue planet with her pencil. \n\n\"Oh, those things.\" Jimmy said. \n\n\"Yes those things Jimmy, aren't they dreadful?\" \n\n\"I kind of like them.\" Mrs Karbunkle glanced at Jimmy, his eyes were glazed as he watched the blue planet rotate lazily. \n\n\"But they're vile, savage and quite egotistical little things. In the short time they've been on that little planet they've chopped most of it down, covered a lot of it in rock and metal and poured lots of harmful gasses into their own air. They're breeding like crazy too.\"\n\n\"Oh, I tried to put a stop to that\" Jimmy muttered. \n\n\"How did you do that?\" \n\n\"I told them that they could only breed with one other of their species and they could only breed with that one if they married it.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute\" Mrs Karbunkle leaned in closer to the blue planet. \"Jimmy?\"\n\n\"Yes Mrs K?\"\n\n\"What on earth have you done?\"\n\n\"I kinda liked those things down there but they kept fighting and killing each other. I wrote some rules down for them to follow.\" Mrs Karbunkle turned a little pale. \n\n\"Rules?\"\n\n\"Well they think of them as guidelines really.\" \n\n\"Jimmy, you're eleven years old.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So what could you possibly know about life, or how to live it?\"\n\n\"Well I told them not to kill, not to steal, not to rape.\"\n\n\"That's all pretty good so far\"\n\n\"That being gay is evil, that it's kind of ok to have slaves and that if they don't follow my rules they'll end up underground, burning forever.\"\n\n\"Jimmy, that's terrible. What were you thinking?\" Mrs Karbunkle plucked a magnifying glass from her pocket and peered even closer at the blue planet, so close that she could read the tiny books the weird little things were writing. \n\n\"These ones think that they're the centre of the universe Jimmy.\"\n\n\"Oh, do they?\"\n\n\"Yes and these ones have written whole books about you.\" \n\n\"Have they?\" Jimmy asked gleefully. \n\n\"So have these ones over here, see?\" Mrs Karbunkle handed Jimmy the magnifying glass. \n\n\"Oh wow, they're building me statues too. This is so cool.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute, those ones over there are attacking these ones over here\" \n\n\"Oh no, that's not what I wanted\" \n\n\"And those ones are taking those ones on boats over there with collars around their necks.\"\n\n\"Those pale ones on that little rock over there seem to be doing a lot of the bad stuff.\"\n\n\"Good grief Jimmy, what was that?\" Two white flashes erupted from the same little rock, burning and obliterating \nthousands of the little things. Mrs Karbunkle backed away from Jimmy's universe. Utter disgust spread across her face. \"Jimmy, I'm changing your grade.\" Jimmy turned from his project to face her. Mrs Karbunkle quickly scrawled a large red F on a piece of paper. She flung it at Jimmy, careful not to touch him. Without another word she walked away, as far away from the kid with the milk bottle glasses as she could get. Behind Jimmy on the little blue planet thousands of little metal darts, carrying hundreds of the strange little things rocketed into space towards another little blue planet. The one they were leaving was ruined. The water had turned a rotten brown and the little things left on the planet were all choking on their self made fumes. \n \n\n\n", "Author note: Uhhhhh.. so I got side-tracked from the main topic I think... but hope you enjoy this.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"An 'A?\" Britney said with disdain. \"I just can't believe it. How can you get an 'A for that?\"\n\nShe was referring to the opal globe in Stuart's hand. They were best friends so it was alright for her to talk to him that way. \n\nStuart beamed. He didn't mind it at all.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" he asked Britney, a little smugly. \"I mean, the instructions were clear and if you followed the notes the teach mentioned last-- Oh, that's right, you skipped class again.\"\n\nBritney fumed. \"But-but-- I was working on THIS!\" she cried holding up her slightly smaller round globe. It was a little more incandescent that the one Stuart had.\n\n\"It doesn't do very much,\" Stuart said, observing the flakes spinning around inside the globe. \"I mean, so you managed to stitch the gluons together, but then what? The energy output isn't consistent.\"\n\n\"But-but-- It's so much more interesting if we switched the sequencing around. Look, at what this does!\"\n\nShe pressed a finger on the surface of her globe and gently pushed. Her finger slid inside effortlessly. A swarm of white flashy particles began to swirl around the surface where she made the insertion. \n\n\"Look at how cool this is,\" she said, beaming.\n\n\"It's nice but then what? It doesn't do anything. It doesn't work, and that's the problem,\" he said. \"That's why you got a C.\"\n\n\"Look at this,\" he said, holding up his opal globe. It was completely dark save for small specks of white flakes that faded in and out with an indefinite occurence. \"Do you know why this gets an 'A?\"\n\n\"Observe,\" he said while holding the globe a little higher that it was above their heads. He gave it a little spin. The flakes no longer faded in and out. They began to swirl and converge. More and more flakes appeared, and converged into the center forming a giant white spark that was growing inside the globe. \n\nHe gave the globe a flick. \n\nThe spark began to swell and looked as if it were on the verge of exploding when it suddenly dimmed and faded, reverting to the opal globe's original state where flakes fluttered in and out of existence.\n\n\"Now this is a prime example of perfect energy conservation,\" Stuart said, grinning.\n\n\"Now this is a prime example of perfect-- BLUEGGHGH,\" Britney said, sticking out her tongue. \"You're just repeating what Professor Mullins said!\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" Stuart said. \"If you follow the instructions, you can never go wrong.\"\n\n\"But following instructions is BOOOORING,\" Britney cried, making a dead cod kind of face.\n\n\"I mean-- I mean, look at this!\" she said, suddenly remembering. \n\n\"You're not going to spin it again, are you?\" Stuart said, slowly leaning away. \"Remember what almost happened back at the presentation!\"\n\n\"Pffft! The Prof's toupee will regrow. It's just a small burn,\" she said, already picking up her globe amidst Stuart telling her that it wasn't just a small burn.\n\n\"Brits,\" Stuart said, starting to step off the bench. \"Think very carefully about this...\"\n\n\"Relax, you pissy pants,\" she said laughingly, while pulling out her phone. \"Watch!\"\n\nBritney placed the globe underneath her phone camera and turned on the Camera app. She began enlarging the view until the flakes in her globe no longer looked so tiny. The flakes, as she now revealed, had different shapes from spirals to helixes. She zoomed past the spot that she had poked earlier revealing a white gash that was revolving around the space and sucking in the smaller tinier flakes that began to appear in view.\n\n\"This is so messed up,\" Stuart said. \"Everything's so disorganized!\"\n\n\"Oh shush,\" Britney retorted. \"I'm getting to it.\"\n\n\"To what?\" Stuart asked, \"Jeez-louise, Brits, it looks like you've contaminated the thing. There's dirt all over the place!\"\n\n\"Hey, my dad wouldn't let me do this at home because things... Umn... caught fire--so I had to work outside. Anyway, check this out!\" she said as she stopped scrolling and zooming on her phone. \"What do you think?\"\n\nStuart was speechless.\n\n\"It's...\"\n\n\"Yes?\" she purred. \"Tell me?\"\n\n\"It's a dot. A pale blue dot.\" Stuart could be so dense some times. \"What am I supposed to notice?\"\n\n\"Oh, Stuart!\" Britney cried, \"You're impossible! It's--\"\n\n\"--terrible, Brits.\" Stuart said adjusting his glasses. \"Look at all that dirt clumped together like that. And are those microbes or bacteria swirling inside?\"\n\nHe leaned forwards and zoomed in on the dot.\n\n\"Holy crap, Brits, it's terrible! Look at that... fungus-like thing and those... what are those? Are they fusing with irons? Why are those paramesiums tying up together like that? And here,\" he said tapping the screen furiously, \"What is THAT one doing? It's tugging at its own tendril repeatedly like that-- Is it trying to pull it off? What's it doing? WHAT'S IT ALL DOING!?\"\n\n\"It's all wrong,\" he finally said after taking a deep breath. \"It's super inelegant. If I were the prof, a C would be me being extremely merciful or pitiful or both at the same time.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Britney,\" he said, shaking his head. \"I'm going to have to come over and help you with your homework more often.\"\n\nBritney grunted. \n\n\"You're mean, Stuart. You know that?\"\n\nStuart casually picked up his sandwich that had been laying on the table for the past 15 minutes and took a bite as Britney watched. He had the upper hand here and he made sure to announce it to the whole canteen. He was such a meanie. He was.\n\n\"You're such a meanie, Stuart! You don't even care about what I've got here!\" she said as she grabbed onto his shoulders and started shaking him.\n\nStuart choked for a good full minute while she watched. \n\nOnce he had put himself together again, he glared at Britney. She winced, and then gave him her biggest smile.\n\n\"For real?\" she asked, lightly curling and uncurling her hair.\n\n\"For real, what?\" he asked.\n\n\"You'll come over to help me with homework next time?\"\n\n\"Well,\" he said, almost about to reconsider when she grab his hand and shook it, hard.\n\n\"Thank you, sir! I shall see you later this evening then!\"\n\nA message notification suddenly popped up on Britney's phone. It was showing some kind of garbled text:\n\nPHAROAH SAYS NO\n\n\"What's that?\" Stuart asked.\n\nShe was reading the message. \"Oh, some corrupted data from the simulator, I think. It happens more frequently whenever I'm locked in on the blue turd.\"\n\n\"A turd?\"\n\n\"Yep. That's what I call it.\"\n\n\"Heh, that thing's glitchy. You should get rid of it.\"\n\n\"I might,\" she said, hiding a smile. \"When I get bored of it, maybe.\"\n\n\"Huh, what's so nice about a broken simulator? Anyway, I've got to run. Class should be starting anytime.\"\n\n\"See ya,\" Britney said as Stuart waved and headed off.\n\nAlone again, she glanced down at her phone. She tapped on the reply button and began to type:\n\n>/sudo-b.YHWH.frog-dump.reg.26.7561N29.8623E\n\n\"Let's see what he's gonna say now,\" Britney said to herself while chuckling. \"Bored?\"\n\n\"I'm never going to get bored of this.\"\n\nA reply instantly popped up on her screen.\n\nWILL TALK TO PHAROAH AGAIN\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------", "It was a work of beauty. A perfect model: functional - yet avoiding all the common pitfalls which were the bane of freshmen everywhere.\n\nStars were born, danced, and died with power and grace; each star exploding in a perfect supernova of rainbow colours, spitting out elements of all varieties and complexities in carefully planned ratios.\n\nGravity had been tweaked away from the standard model, so popular because of its simplicity, such that - in this universe - not a single wasteful black hole could ever come into being. The elements which were created would remain. Just one super-massive black hole would inevitably form towards the end, and would be timed to absorb the final frantic bursts of Rainbow Matter from the Super Stars which would perform the final dance.\n\nDespite the presence of matter and energy, and heavy, complex elements, no autoreproducing molecules could form - so the ethical issues were neatly side-stepped simply by never arising. This Display would not be resigned to storage in the basement, forgotten and consigned to a quiet eternity of having to run on after its purpose was complete. No hopeful student would be returning to this model after graduation, to see if possibly - just possibly - the ethical issues had been resolved and the universe could be of some use after all. No need to keep this model under lock and key, to prevent embarassing lapses of overkeen students trying to \"tweak\" their earlier work to hitch up their graduation grade with \"accidental\" gamma ray bursts or sudden black holes or (as in the case of one inventive student some years ago) a rather creative flood - which would have succeeded, had the hopeful creator not taken to muttering under his breath while working.\n\nThe traditional three galaxies orbitted each other in a perfect pattern at close quarters; yet not a single star was flung wastefully off from the core. Rather, they hopped between galaxies in a beautiful balet of whirring colours.\n\nIt was, quite simply, perfect. Even the suspicion of \"over enthusiastic parental guidence\" could be discounted for this Display, as the student had worked on the project only at the school, and only under supervision, using only the high-school tools.\n\nAll agreed that this was an absolutely perfect universe. It was almost a shame to use it. But since that was the whole purpose of the project, and the award could not be made until the ceremony was complete, its fate was sealed from the moment of its unveiling.\n\nThe local news coverage went national, and it was talked about for years to come. Quite simply, it was the most impressive end-of-term firework display which had been seen for decades. Gasps from the crowd were quite audible at the final collapse of the supermassive black hole, as it tidied up all the rogue elements and returned them to their original states, to be harvested and returned to the storage units of the school for the next round of projects to use.\n\nAnd the student? She showed such great promise: but as with many such gifted children, she never persued the obvious career choices which seemed to be hers for the taking. Some say that she went travelling, to see other Displays, and to learn - and that one day she shall return to produce the final, ultimate firework display of her own. Others claim that she has been seen working in a local food establishment, putting flare into her flipping.\n\nBut I like to believe the other story: that she became a Custodian, guarding the less successful projects, and mentoring the primitive lifeforms which emerge in the most disasterous of failed Displays. Taking care to make their short, brutish existence as pain-free as possible until their little homes disappear with a disapointing, dark, and final extinction.", "Johnny sneered at me. I hated him so much. It seemed his entire existence was just to one-up me. This time it was his stupid universe. It sat floating at the podium in front of the classroom as the best example of what the rest of us should have done.\n\n\"Well,\" Mr. Williams began, clearly disappointed at first glance, \"what have we here?\"\n\nI pointed at the Milky Way.\n\n\"This is where life will take place. I designed it to develop itself over time.\"\n\nA gleam appeared in his eye. He stopped grading for a moment to take a closer look.\n\n\"Really now? That's impressive. How long does it take for the intelligence to develop?\"\n\nI stared daggers at Johnny. You see how interested Williams is in my project!? He looked back without emotion, probably masking his jealousy. \"A few million years.\"\n\n\"No, specifically, how may years? What day will they start recording history?\" he asked with a twinge of impatience in his voice.\n\n\"Ummm... I don't know.\" Johnny choked back a laugh and pointed at the display next to his galaxy with the countdown timer running Intelligence begins in: 342 million years, 23 days, 2 hours, 16 minutes, and 13 seconds\n\nI hate you Johnny.\n\n\"What this in your organism?\"\n\n\"Cells. Every organism is made of of cells that will stack up on one another to create a greater being.\"\n\n\"And its sentience?\"\n\n\"Well, none. Why would the building blocks need sentience?\"\n\n\"Mark, I'm afraid you haven't done most of my instructions. How many cells will it take for something to become sentient?\"\n\n\"Somewhere around--\"\n\n\"Specifics, Mark, specifics,\" he rolled his eyes.\n\n\"I don't know...\" I conceded.\n\n\"Mmmm... And how do they determine the food chain once sentience is reached?\"\n\n\"The smartest one takes all!\" I claimed confidently.\n\nJohnny smacked his forehead. I glared at him and looked back at Williams.\n\n\"But which of them take it?\" he asked.\n\n\"There's only one.\"\n\n\"Only one?\" he exclaimed, \"come here, you need to see this.\"\n\nHe took me over to Johnny's universe and pointed to a planet at the edge.\n\n\"You see, here and here are two separate species that are surviving in groups together. What do you notice?\"\n\nI was looking at the floor in shame, not daring to look at Johnny.\n\n\"What do you see?\" Mr. Williams continued.\n\n\"Language,\" I muttered.\n\n\"Excellent! Now, the two of these species will have completely different takes on their world and as a result change it to something that one of them could not have done alone.\"\n\n\"But won't it inevitably lead to war?\" I asked, hoping to destroy the point.\n\n\"Ahh, yes, but so will yours Mark. Except yours will be fighting itself, hindering its ability to grow into something as a result of the trails of war and only to stand on top of their brothers corpses and brag of victory.\"\n\n\"I programmed humanity...\" I said dejectedly.\n\n\"Who didn't!?\" he exclaimed to the class, which brought a laugh, the loudest coming from Johnny.\n\n\"It's ok, Mark. You did the base things. Try to drive something into a perfect being like Johnny did and maybe I can raise your C to an A. Alright?\"\n\n\"Alright,\" I said, slumping back to cause an extinction.", "\"I'm sorry Yahweh, but this won't hold up at all. I mean, billions of subjective years to develop life?\"\n\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\n\"And your individual units lack intelligence!\"\n\n\n\"But, they interlink...\"\n\n\n\"They are just chemotrophic\"\n\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\n\"Essentially rely on chemotaxis, very primitive, Yahweh\" \n\n\n\"No, see they...\"\n\n\n\"Everyone else managed at least linear development, see, even in fast forward nothing happens...\"\n\n\n\"But they will...\"\n\n\n\"I'm sorry Yahweh, I really am, but this is an E at best, you'll have to do this module again\"\n\n\n\"...develop exponentially\" the little god muttered defeated.\n\n\nThe instructor froze. \"What did you just...\"\n\n\nHis attention shifted to the student project just in time to witness the catastrophe. One second, life was confined to relatively few worlds...then it exploded across the stars. Matter was consumed so fast the waste heat made the edges of the universe glow. Entire galaxies were converted into mega-engineering projects, gigantic computers using naked singularities to prod the underlying space-time program Yahweh had put in, to analyse and understand and finally hack it.\n\n\nThe universe flickered, unfolding through a dozen discreet dimensions to display a simple, beautiful message.\n\n\nHELLO\n\n\nCREATOR\n\n\nWE HAVE\n\nA FEW\n\nQUESTIONS\n\nFOR YOU\n\n\nYelping in panic the instructor reached out and hit the \"panic button\". Every universe in their metaplane popped and fizzled out in a heat death.\n\n\nFor a moment there was shocked silence.\n\n\n\"Well...\" the instructor began in a shaky, falsely cheerful voice \"What do you say to a big, nice C minus, hm? You will pass and hopefully no one will ever ask you to make another 'verse again, all right?\" ", "Jehovah had no clue as to why his project did not hold par to Adalade's, it was just as proficient and rudimentary, just as mathematical. He supposed it was the progressive model of evolution he implemented. Molecular decay, mitochondrial swapping and cell division, it could only be fully analyzed over time perhaps, Jehovah thought, that was the exact issue. Adalade's symbiotic construct of universal development was almost instantaneous, all of Adalade's sentient programs were immortal and had to follow the code she did not give them choice or meaning as to what those choices meant.\n \nJehovah created an entire prophetic backstory to his UDC, two creatures began the civilization one named Adam the other Eve...perhaps the complexity made it a bit too childish. After all he only created a single planet in which sentient life could flourish. It allowed the observer to focus on the core programming, Adalade's was on several planets allowing for more diversity and made it more flashy. Teachers of the UDC class are suckers for 'flashy' development.\n\nHe knew that if the teacher looked closer they would begin to appreciate it's complexity but he was shy and accepted the C. Adalade's UDC did not even have dimensionality, it was linear, two dimensional beings flailing about in uneven space. Jehovah's dimensions were nothing short of amazing, gravity to tell where and when all matter was to begin and end, time to allow the matter to exist, and space a place in time which it could begin and maintain in. He even had cute little trashbins to fold the matter when the program had finished.\n\nFuck it, he thought, tossing the UDC in his mother's storage unit. ", "Everything was perfect\n\nEverything was grand\n\nEvery rule was followed\n\nEvery part was bland\n\n\n\nThe creatures all were happy\n\nAll creatures were the same\n\nThe creatures needed nothing\n\nThe creatures had no aim\n\n\n\nThe scenery was pretty\n\nThe weather was just right\n\nThere really was no difference\n\nBetween the day and night\n\n\n\nThe student sure was proud\n\nThe teacher was impressed\n\nEveryone agreed\n\nThat his world was the best\n\n\n\nCreative may look great\n\nUnique is what they say\n\nBut does it really matter\n\nif he doesn't get an A?\n", "\"So, you only started with two of them?\n\n\"Y..yes, sir,\" God stammered back. \"Well, one, technically, but then I made the second one out of the first one's rib.\"\n\n\"So, they have the same DNA? Doesn't that make them twins? What about genetic diversity? How can they thrive with such a limited gene pool? What about genetic diseases?\"\n\n\"Well... I...\"\n\n\"And wouldn't the children of the first two be forced to commit incest, either with each other or with one of their parents? Did you even plan this out?\"\n\n\"I did, sir, but...\"\n\n\"And this environment is entirely nonsensical. Why are they all out living in the desert, when you have clearly designed them for more temperate climates?\"\n\n\"That one isn't my fault, sir. I had designed a really cool terrarium for them that had everything they needed to live and it was the perfect temperature, but they were... well... misbehaving...\"\n\n\"You kicked them out of their own biome because they were misbehaving? Even though you left them no choice but to be incestuous?\"\n\n\"Well, I guess... but that's not why I was punishing them...\"\n\n\"What was it then? What could they possibly have done?\"\n\n\"Well, they talked to this snake and then they ate this fruit that I told them not to...\"\n\npause\n\n\"... That's it?\"\n\n\"Well...\" God was starting to sweat nervously. \"It was worse than it sounds, really. It was the Tree of Knowledge, sir. And I made sure to specifically tell them not to eat it!\"\n\n\"If you didn't want them to eat it, why did you put it in their habitat?\"\n\n\"I... ummm....\"\n\n\"And why did you put the snake in there if you didn't want him talking to them?\"\n\n\"Well, that part I didn't really have control of....\"\n\n\"Didn't have control of?? Are you omnipotent, or not?\"\n\n\"Well... I am... and I....\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Yahweh, but this is just all wrong. It's clear to me that you didn't even read the assignment and you just slapped this entire science project together in like one week. This is completely unacceptable work for someone of your abilities. I'm afraid I have to give you a C.\"\n\n----\n\n\"Stupid little bastards,\" God pouted, holding the hose over their environment. \"Made me fail science class and now I have to come back for summer school! Stupid little jerks. Let's see how you like a year of rain. Better build a big fucking boat, stupid humans.\"\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 3, 3, 4, 6, 8, 12, 17, 24, 29, 68, 126, 129, 356, 620 ]	[ "1438341944", "1438344185", "1438347088", "1438351279", "1438338550", "1438324265", "1438351168", "1438347815", "1438334519", "1438338101", "1438325497", "1438321065", "1438328669", "1438313799", "1438315034", "1438314530" ]
	[WP] One night, a man drinks alone on a rooftop, and see another person walk to the edge.	2	[ "I enjoyed being on the roof of my apartment building. No one ever seemed to come up here making it the perfect place to escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. Plus, the breeze up here actually smelled fresh unlike the streets did, saturated with the sweat of workers and the stench of industry gone bad. \n\n\nWith that said, it was a small surprise to hear someone walk behind me towards the ledge as I was working on my second 40oz. It was just another man, nondescript in the way he looked and moved, clearly from the streets below. But he wasn't on the streets below, he was up here with me and that made me curious about what he was doing. I think I knew, but I wanted to see how far he would go before I did something, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was a morbid curiosity. As he slowly started making his way onto the ledge, the words spilled from my mouth.\n\n\n\"You want a drink?\"\n\n\nHe stopped what he was doing and snapped his head around nearly losing his balance. He didn't know I was here the whole time.\n\n\n\"I said, do you want a drink? I have another bottle here and it's always nice to drink with someone.\"\n\n\nHe looked at me for a few more seconds then walked towards me, taking the bottle I extended to him. He opened it quickly and drank almost half of it without taking a breath, some of it running down his chin and onto his jacket. When he finally finished, I just started talking.\n\n\n\"That bad, huh? Honestly said, I'm not going to stop you. If this is your one means of escape, the only way to end the pain, then by all means I think it's your right to jump. It's your life after all. Just know that at the bottom of that ledge is the end. Fin. Tomorrow will be non-existent. The ripple from your drop of water will cease, it's final effect will be contributing in a miniscule amount to the decades of grime on the street. Ironic since my guess is you want to escape that street grime.\"\n\n\nHe didn't react to what I said, and I didn't want him to. I just wanted him to listen to me. That's it. He finished the rest of the 40oz and threw the bottle over the ledge into the alley, the shatter barely distinguishable from the other sounds coming from below, the broken glass now just another part of the city filth.\n\n\nAs I took in another breath of the fresh breeze, I felt I was done with my little escape from the world below. I turned him and said, \"Thanks for the company.\" Then I left, hoping he made the his right decision.", "She was beautiful, in a sick sort of way. I watched her while at the same time trying not to watch her. Her spindly arms reached out in front of her as if waiting for someone to lift her up and carry her away as she reached them over the vast expanse of the railing. \n\nI took a sip of my beer. It tasted like musty basement mixed with depression. My eyes followed the woman. She reached one slender leg over the railing, then the other, and perched herself on the ledge, arms still outstretched, like she was calling something to her. \n\nShe made a soft cry, then swan-dived over it like a bird preparing for flight. \n\nI leaped from my seat and rushed to the railing. The beer can showered me with liquid as it bounced against the pavement and rolled toward the precipice. I leaned over and stared down at the street below. The sound of air roared through my eardrums until all I could hear was the pounding inside my own head.\n\n\"Somebody help!\"\n\nBut there was no one to help. I looked down all fifteen stories to the asphalt below. There was no body. No sickening crunch as her head made contact with the pavement. No blood splatters. My heart ached. Wet tears rolled down my face and I heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs as I hefted one leg, then the other over the railing.\n\nI reached my arms out into the abyss as if to welcome it as my own. I jumped." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1438355308", "1438349069" ]
	[WP] As you begin to leave the basement, someone says "No, wait, don't leave me here..."	4	[ "\"No, wait, don't leave me here...\"\n\nI knew it. I turned around and spoke:\n\n\"But I have to, it's the only way.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"You know why. There's people in there, and if I let you out, they'll know. And I can't let that happen.\"\n\nIt hasn't changed in years down here. Just boxes. most of them unopened. Who knows what was in them. So much dust. You could get lost or even go blind. No one wants to see that. Pictures and documents mostly, soundbites each more distressing than the last, no one wants to see that. Just be strong and keep it down there.\n\n\n\"Wouldn't it be better to tell the truth? The longer you keep me down here, the harder it will be when I come out, you know.\"\n\nAnd of course there's that issue. How dull. No one wants to see that.\n\n\"Yes but this is important for me. How about just now? Just this one time, and then we'll talk.\"\n\n\"You've said this so many times before that I've lost count. Do you remember when you first put me in here? Before the dust, before the light started to blink and drone?\"\n\nNo arguments here. It gets darker and darker every time I visit. credit where credit is due. At some point I will have to sort this out. But not today. Today is an important day.\n\n\"Just let me out, come on! You know these people, I know these people. If you come clean and ask for forgiveness, I'm sure they will understand.\"\n\n\"I don't care. We do this, for now. You stay here and don't speak. I go out there and do the talking. You always ruin everything.\"\n\nKeep everything down here. That's the right way to do things. Well, no, it isn't, but I never considered myself an exemplary human being, I can make mistakes. And I allow myself to make mistakes because I know I am no exemplary human being.\n\n\"But it isn't my fault, it isn't your fault either, you can get out of this. Make the right decisions and you will never hear from me ever again.\"\n\n\"If I never come back here I won't hear from you again either.\"\n\n\" But you will! Because you always come back. But not if you let me go. No more banging at the door at night while you are trying to sleep. I know I'm the first thing that pops into your head in the morning. I know you well. Let me go, out there, and we can start making things right.\"\n\nIt's been getting a little more intense in the past few months, I'll admit. But this is not the right day to pick a tantrum, dammit. Not today. Not when they're in there. Them, her, everyone.\n\n\"You stay down here as long as I tell you to!\"\n\n\"You know one day it won't be up to you anymore, you do know that, right? There will come a time when I'll just come bursting out, and you won't know when it's coming.\"\n\n\"I don't care.\"\n\n\"You can't keep me buried in here, you know this!\"\n\n\"I can, and I will! Now you will leave me alone, there's people in there, and I need you to shut the fuck up, and let me be myself!\"\n\n\"You can't do that, I'm a part of you!\"\n\nSo I left. and I just stood there for a while. Brush it off, don't worry. It's just a party. Just forget yourself, be cool. Get lost, go blind. It's only a party. One day I'll have to go back in there. Soon, otherwise I'm screwed. Shake your head a little, put on a bright smile, ring that doorbell. It's only you now.\nThe doorbell and my host welcomed me with a beer in his hand.\n\n\"Hey man, you made it! What took you so long?\"\n\n\"Got delayed in my pre-party routine, can't function without it though, I'm a mess without it. Nobody wants to see that.\"\n\n\"Fair enough. Come on in man, leave your troubles at the door. Grab a beer and let's drink til we can't think!\"\n\nSure thing, buddy.\n\n\"How are you anyway?\", he asked.\n\n\"Yeah. I'm doing great, thanks.\"\n\nJust one more day. Next time, I promise.", "As I began to leave the basement, someone says \"No, wait, don't leave me here...\" I stopped dead in my tracks. “Did I just imagine that?” I thought. \n“Let me out of here please” I hear the high pitched helpless voice. \n“Where are you?” \n“I am over here, near the dusty old exercise machine.” It was way in the back of the basement. I approach with caution and unease. \n“I do not see you where are you?”\n“Knock three times on the wood.” \n“What? Why?”\n“Please”\n“Ok”\nKnock…knock… I take a deep breath unsure of what would happen. Knock.\nThere was no explosions or loud noises like I expected just the quiet appearance of a cage in the dark with a skinny young woman inside. \n“Who are you? What are you doing in my basement?” I blurted out without really thinking\nHer response was quick almost rehearsed. \n“I was trapped in here by an evil wizard he locked me in the cage then made it invisible. I have been in here for a century, when this old house was built. I have been able to see the comings and goings of people but it wasn’t until just now that they were able to hear me the power must be wearing off.”\nI gave her an unconvincing stare, not entirely believing this story.\n“and why did this wizard lock you up?” I said not hiding my skepticism.\n“I stole from him, he had a crystal amulet that had the power to destroy the earth. It was made from obsidian carved into a diamond shape with a dark purple amethyst stone in the center.”\n“Right and where is it now” \n“You don’t believe me do you.”\n“Not one silly ass word of it what is really going on?” I felt assured that this was either a nut job or some silly prank. \n“Open the cage and I can show you.”\n“How do I do that?” There was not visible lock or seal just a metal cage, like the kind you’d put a big dog in. \n“to open it you must, put one hand on either side and quickly slid them down the edges.” \nI did exactly what she said. “Ouch” the edges cut me. The crimson blood dripped on to the metal of the cage. I reached over and grabbed a cloth to stop the bleeding. When I turned back around I saw her standing much taller then she looked in the cage. The color of her skin had drastically improved as well. \n“I’m sorry, I lied a bit” she said with a maniacal smile on her face. “The lock needed human blood, but I didn’t think that would work. Thanks though, here let me help.”\nShe reached for my hand brought it to her lips and blew on my cut. Within seconds it was healed and the pain was gone. My skepticism waning fast, I now wanted answers. \nShe was inspecting the floor next to the cage, then walked to the nearest walk and counted 4 paces. When she stopped she drew a large circle on the floor with chalk. I wasn’t sure where she got that from her outfit didn’t look like it had pockets. She drew a small circle with a diamond inside it, the floor where the circle was disappeared and she withdrew something wrapped in a cloth. She slipped the cloths contents in to her hands it was the amulet she described to me. She wasn’t lying or so I thought. \n" ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1438363715", "1438362173" ]
	[WP] A story that gets darker and more intense each time you read it.	64	[ "It began with a prompt. A simple writing prompt designed with the intent to scare or frighten the reader. Harmless enough right? So I began. I wrote a tale of some hapless reader coming along and reading through comments on such a prompt hoping for something that might actually reach out to them and touch them, to remind them of their own mortality, or at least make them feel real. But no, no stories of gore or frightening monsters lurking behind the visible fabrics of reality, waiting to burst forth through the reader's imagination were found by the reader. They left, disappointed once again by the lack of content, blissfully unaware. Unaware of the horrors that they and everyone around them constantly keep at bay, simply by not acknowledging their existence. You see, that is their only weakness. Not the reader's. The others, the beings existing outside of the simple 3-dimensional existence we call and assert as reality. That is our power. Only by our belief, no matter how fleeting, varying from an absent-minded daydream to a fully fleshed out novel, can these creatures enter our realm. We are not aware of it, probably because of our own belief that man cannot simply \"create\". That is why when they came we were shocked by how familiar our demise felt. Yet no one truthfully knew how it all began.", "She really hated cooking. She hated a lot of things about her life nowadays. This meal was special though so she didn't mind cooking, since she was preparing a better meal for next time and forever, in a way. She lowered the heat on the stove and stirred the pot a little when the phone starting ringing, About time he rang.. I was starting to get worried she picked up the phone slowly and put it to her ear flush with excitement.\n\n-\"Are you doing it right now?\" She always liked his voice, dark and mysterious and it offered the listener adventure. It's probably why she first was drawn to him, along with who he was. Stephen always had such a boring voice. \n\n-\"Yes. He'll be home soon, expecting his dinner as always.\" She had prepared his favorite, he'd be sure to eat every last morsel. \n\n-\"Alright.. You have everything ready? The money, clothes, papers and all of the rest?\" He had been very useful providing the documents and all. He had some serious connections. Probably thought this was all his idea.\n\n-\"Yes, everything is ready on my end. Are you outside the school right now? Jeffrey should be out any second now.\"\n\n-\"Yeah, I'm outside. The bell just rang, so I'll call you later when it's all done and pick you up. Alright?\"\n\n-\"Works for me. See you in our next life, my love.\" \n\n-\"You take care now, bab-, Wait, did you pay the mechanic for the car in cash? Don't want to leave any monetary footprints\" She had.\n\n-\"Yes, I did everything was taken care of with the car, no one got my name and I was disguised. No need to worry, it will look natural anyway.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah I know. But you never know with these things, better safe then sorry.\"\n\n\"True. Now, if that was all I better get back to preparing this meal.\"\n\n\"Yeah..\"\n\nShe hung up the phone first. Stephens food was about ready now, and he'd be coming home from work any second now. She missed work. Stephen had insisted one of them should stay at home and be with Jeffrey since a kid needed all the attention and care he could get, and nannies wouldn't cut it. He didn't even offer to be the one to do it, she realized in retrospect. She had come to realize a lot of things she had done she didn't want to do at all. This wasn't one of them though. She wondered if she could be what she was once this was all done, her job was something she missed tremendously; being around all that excitement and danger. She loved it, and being the only woman in the bomb squad came with its perks too.\n\nShe was never into this monogamy thing, but Stephen used to be so exciting too and working together did bring them closer. Thinking you could die any minute does forge bonds. She learned a lot from the job too, for example how a bomb works, timed explosions using power cells from the machine its hooked to internally, dismantling it of course and what materials are used. She was always surprised how easy it was to make one. A bomb could do anything from leveling a city block to a tiny explosion in a engine causing a chain reaction. Skills like that would be in handy anywhere she choose to go.\n\nThe doorbell rang, and then a key being turned in its lock. A habit of his to announce his presence before using the keys. It was the most annoying thing she had ever experienced. He came in, she kissed him on the cheek and hanged his coat beside the hallway, sat him down by the table and she made small talk with him throughout the meal. Said he was feeling sleepy and wanted to take a nap before heading out later in the evening. She said okay. \n\nThen, when she heard the upstairs door close she walked calmly to the hallway fished his car keys out his coat and went down to the basement where she kept the money and the documents. First, she opened the suitcase in which he had provided her with the fake license plate for the car she bought. Then she opened the bag where their fake passports, licenses, registrations, ID's and other essentials for forging an identity lay. She took what she needed, and left.", "I sat in my chair and watched the stripes swirl on for infinity. The way the blue, the white, and the red tangoed left me mesmerized. Funny how the more I watched these colors dance the less I saw them. By now I didn't see the individual colors, really, it was all just a blur. The little chimes clattered against the glass door behind me and Richard's charismatic voice took me out of my trance. I swung around in my low, leather chair and our eyes met.\n\n\"Gilbert, how are you today?\" as he extended his hand in courtesy. I looked at his hand for a bit before I realized I was beginning to create an awkwardness between us. I shook his hand and got up from seat, exchanging a soft smile with him. \"Just the usual\", he said. \n\n\"Take a seat, pal, I kept it warm for ya\", as I patted the leather chair lightly in front of him. He sat down and the leather squeaked as he slid down in it. I threw the cape in the air and watched it fold and waver around him like a ballet of cloth and wind. Once the gown fell, I buttoned it behind his neck and I could see his skin whiten around the collar edges as his face winced in discomfort. \n\n\"Heh, little tight, don't ya think?\" as he plunged his finger between his neck and the collar to help alleviate some of the strangulation.\n\n\"Of course, sir\", and I loosened the gown. \"So a little off the top, huh?\", as I wiped my scissors clean in a white towel. He didn't say anything - he just sunk in his chair, eyes heavy, and nodded that I was correct, as always. I proceeded to then cut his thinning head. Each snip echoed through my head, creating a symphony that even Bach would envy. I lost my self in the sound, snip snip snip, ahh, music to my ears. I thought to myself, 'What would stop me from just accidentally nipping his ear today?'. If I wanted to, I could do anything to him. I could slice his neck right open in a matter of seconds. I am the conductor, could he really blame me for losing myself in my craft? But what did Richard ever do to me? \n\nI excused the thought and proceeded to shave his face, and with each stroke of the razor my mind slipped further. And like that it was all gone. The music came again and it was all I could hear. I finished skimming the foam off his face, and the music alleviated. By now, the calming orchestra left me and I began to coil a hot towel on his face. To think, a little bit of pressure and I could basically water board this poor guy, the third act for the audience, but that wouldn't be the nice thing to do to such a nice guy. So I stood there and watched the steam rise from the towel. I took a deep breath and the music halted as I pulled the towel from his face. \n\nFinally, we finished up and we bickered over the price as usual, both knowing he would only pay me fourteen dollars. I held my breath as I watched him walk out the door, and when he was gone I gave a sigh of relief. After all, I couldn't afford to lose another customer this week. ", "My parents told me it was natural for a child to have an imaginary friend. \"It's just your imagination creating a magical friend for you to play with, in a fictacious world!\" they would say. They warned me though, to know the difference between imagination and the real world, and to never forget which one was which. \n\nSammy the Clown was my best friend when I was Nine years old. I met in in a small park behind my house one day. It wasn't particularly my favorite day, and I was having a tough time dealing with my parents always fighting and yelling and screaming. The only thing that helped calm my mind back then was going to that park. One day, I was sitting on the swing trying to loop around like I always did, when I first met Sammy. He was funny and goofy, and wanted to play any game I could think of. We spent over an hour that day playing tag, and sticks and twigs(a game we created as we went), and throwing the ball around. He told me to meet him at the same park the next day, but told me that we could only play together if I never told anyone else about him. I thought it was a lot more fun to make it a secret so of course, I agreed. \n\nWe played together almost everyday that week. He always was there for me and listened to me tell him all my stupid stories, and jokes. And even listened to the stories that weren't as much fun. Most of the time we would just stay at the park, but sometimes we went into the woods to play as well. We would play hide and seek, and play wrestle, and some other games I didn't think were very fun at first but Sammy told me I would grow to like them the more we played. \n\nI ask my mom one day if it was normal to have a clown as a best friend, and she laughed and asked me who this clown was. I was afraid to tell her about him because I thought for sure he would get made at ruining our secret and stop coming to play with me. So I told her he was my imaginary friend. She smiled at me and asked me if he was there with us right then, and I told her yes to make her keep smiling. \n\nSammy always had a solution for everything, and it was amazing how well he listened to me. He was the one who finally helped me get rid of my bully at school. He told me to put a couple of thumb tacks on his seat and he would stop bothering me for at least a week, so I did. He also told me that I would never get in trouble for it as long as I kept my mouth shut, and he was right about that too. He also helped me stop Milly Ray from teasing me about my pimples all the time. He told me all I had to do, was sneak into her home at night and cut of her hair. I found out where she lived the very next night and did it. I would have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for her pesky brother who saw me climb out the window and ratted me out.\n\nI kept my mouth shut as long as I could when my parents got the call from her parents and sat me down to talk to me. I denied everything, but in the end I knew I couldn't hold out any longer. They were yelling and screaming more than usual, more so at each other than at me. \"Look at what kind of son you've raised.\" my Father would scream, and my mom would cry and yell back at him, then at me. Finally, I couldn't take their yelling anymore, so I told them about Sammy. I told them that he always met me at the park behind our house, and I told them that he was real and not imaginary at all. \n\nThey were horrified, and my mom started crying a little louder. In less than twenty minutes, there were red and blue lights all around our house and police officers inside of it. They asked me everything about Sammy, and my parents told me I had to tell them everything. I told them about what he looked like, and the games we would play. I even told them about the games we would play in the woods, because at that point I was scared that the policemen would take me away from my house forever if I lied. \n\nThe next couple of days were a haze, and there were always blue and red lights coming to our house, and policemen sitting in our kitchen. Then one day, my mom came up to me and told me, \"Sammy won't be bothering me anymore\" and that, \"He was going away for a very long time.\" Later that day, I had to go to the police station and they showed me a man standing in a room in a clown suit that looked a lot like Sammy's. They told me that this was the man asked me to be sure it was him. It wasn't sammy of course, but I just wanted everything to end, so I told them it was. \n\nThat night, I locked myself up in my room and tried to cry myself to sleep. I was sure that I would never see Sammy again, because I had ruined our secret. I was just about to finally go to sleep, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I looked up, Sammy was sitting on the edge of my bed, smiling like he always did, looking as cheerful as ever. He told me he was sad that I had ruined our secret, but he still liked playing with me. I told him about what my parents said, and he laughed and asked me if I liked playing with my parents more, or with him. Of course I said him! He listened to me, and never yelled at me, and never screamed anywhere around me like they did. He told me that we could play together again, and that we could play together for always. I just had to put Mommy and Daddy to sleep for while. When I asked him how long, he told me, \"long enough\". \n\nWe went down to the kitchen and I grabbed the sleeping stick, like Sammy told me. All I had to do was poke my parents with the sleeping stick and they would go into a long slumber. I was having second thoughts, but Sammy told me, \"When they sleep, they will no longer fight with each other!\" or \"Yell at you, or anyone else! They will be happy once again!\" I went into their rooms, and was about to do it, when again, I had second thoughts. I tried to turn around and walk away, but Sammy was standing in the way, and started Laughing and dancing, not letting my go through. My mom got out of bed behind me and asked me, \"who are you talking to sweetheart?\" and I told her that of course, I was talking to Sammy who was standing right next to us. She told me, \"There is no one here baby. Please tell me what's wrong?\" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad waking up from his bed, and I knew a fight was coming. I knew they would yell at me, and even worse, yell at sammy. So as quickly as I could, I poked them both with the magic stick. And I poked them a few more times to make sure that they really went to sleep. \n\nIt felt like a lot of work just so I could keep my best friend. But my parents did tell me, it's completely natural to have an imaginary friend. And now, Sammy and I can play together forever. \n\n----\n\nCheck out my sub for more! https://www.reddit.com/r/Occasionallyoccupied/" ]	[ 1, 2, 9, 34 ]	[ "1438380381", "1438389480", "1438379891", "1438380435" ]
	[WP] Almost all of humanity has suddenly gained superpowers due to reasons unknown. You're one of the few exceptions, and have remained powerless.	1	[ "The sun shined in through the opening of the tent. I turned over in my bed roll and heard a radio news station playing faintly in the background. On the other side of the tent I found the other bed rolls empty.\n\nI suppose now would be a good time to get up.\n\nOutside the tent my younger brother Jason, his girlfriend Julie, and my friend Jackson were all huddled around the radio. \n\n\"Yes, this morning we're had several reports of various individuals exhibiting superpowers, with the several more reports coming in by the minute.\" a male newscaster said.\n\nHis female co-worker chimed in, \"in fact, we have a few cases of superpowers in our own studio. In fact, this morning I found I could shapeshift! When I went to brush my hair, it moved by itself into the exact hairdo I wanted!\"\n\nMy brother turned to his girlfriend and exclaimed, \"hey, that's cool! Wonder if we have powers.\"\n\n\"Let's see if I can fly!\" she said.\n\nShe stood up on the rock she was sitting on and jumped into the air. She fell to the ground, as normal. \n\n\"Well,\" said Jackson, \"I've always wanted to have heat vision like Superman. That would be so useful. I could use it to protect myself, cook things. I could also write things in stone, literally!\"\n\nHe turned to look at a tree and strained as hard as he could. It seemed like he was gonna pop a vein or something.\n\n\"Well,\" said Jason, \"it seems like there are a ton of people who have powers. I doubt between all four of us, none of us got powers. That seems unlikely. Let's keep trying.\"\n\nThey all flailed around and strained themselves trying to see if they had powers. Pyrokinesis, animal control, mind reading, everything. Julie even got Jason to (reluctantly) hit her with a branch to see if she got invulnerability. She did not have invulnerability to say the least. \n\nThis experimentation went on until the afternoon. Then, we heard rustling in the trees approach us. A barefoot man that looked like he was a hiker was jumping through the trees. Well, I suppose he wasn't hiking anymore, so he wasn't a hiker. He seemed to stick to the sides of trees and could swing from branch to branch with one arm. He was yelling in joy as swung towards us. \n\nThen, he fell. He tried to jump and grip the side of a tree, but he failed. The four of us rushed over to help him. \n\n\"That was weird...\" the man muttered.\n\nYea, monkey men are pretty weird I thought.\n\n\"How come I didn't stick to the tree? It worked on all the other trees. I mean, look!\"\n\nHe walked over to the tree he was on previously. He tried to jump up and stick to it like a gecko. He slipped and fell. \n\n\"Wait a second guys,\" Julie said, \"you guys remember that one guy in that one superhero movie? I think it was the X-Guys or something? The one who made other people's powers not work? Maybe one of us is like that guy?\"\n\n\"Huh,\" I said, \"that's actually a really good point. One of us could be negating the powers of everyone else here. We should try walking away and seeing if the others get powers. Here, I'll go first.\"\n\nAs I walked away, I looked back. I saw the others watching me, and then, it happened. Julie started to float up in the air. Jackson's eyes began to glow. Jason had a bird land on his shoulder and chirp at him and he chirped back. ", "When they brought me to the compound it was \"for my own safety\",\n\nI was just a normal chick and I was getting hasty,\n\nWaiting for my powers like waiting for an executioner,\n\nEverybody else playing ruler, getting stupider.\n\nWhile people like me went into protective custody,\n\nFrom the flying, freezing, fast healing, psychic monstrosities,\n\nThe crime-was rampant, the fear-was worse, \n\nAnd me-myself am feeling cursed,\n\nAs almost everyone enjoys their brand new super powers,\n\nI'm stuck in purgatory with all the non super cowards." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1438492898", "1438576811" ]
	[WP] In the city of Tirus, September is always a month of 30 days of heavy nonstop rain. Write a story about preparations made in August.	19	[ "Tirus had begun as a city of refugees and malcontents. Uncertain populations wary of the ever blurring lines between man and machine, longing for past days lived in the mundane reality outside of cyber space, seeking an end to eugenics, wanting a return to the spirit of exploration before mankind drew itself back to its homeworld, and chafing under the governance of artificial intelligences all sought a new home. They found one hundreds of light years from the decadent Earth. The planet followed a tidally locked orbit around a massive red giant, one hemisphere perpetually bathed in radioactive heat. The would be settlers named their new home Libertas and planned to settle a strip of land making up a temperate zone between the two sides of the planet. A veritable war of debates was made before permission was granted to activate the Einstein-Rosen Aether Bridge still in orbit around the Earth. The settlers arrived at Libertas and founded the first and, so far, only city, Tirus.\n\nDue to many small errors made in the remote scanning of Libertas, it was entirely a surprise when the first radioactive rains struck in the ninth month of Libertas's forty two month calendar. Much of the population initially survived due to the shielding set up to deal with the high winds that carried radiation from the light hemisphere but most of the livestock and newly sown crops were lost, including some of the gene stocks, due to miscalculations on soil absorption and faulty sheltering of farming equipment. What followed was a period of radiation poisoning, starvation, and sometimes lawlessness.\n\nIt quickly became apparent that the rains, due to an unusual moisture cycle, came every year in the ninth month. Measures were implemented very quickly but the damage had been done. The population of Tirus would long deal with the genetic ramifications of their first settlement.\n\nThe tradition of the Rain Festival sprang up in later years, first as a spiteful joke and later as a true celebration. The rains are now processed and cleansed to supplement Tirus's constantly growing demand for water. Every eighth month foil streamers hang in the streets and each Friday of the month households all over the city host Remembrance Dinners, with the final Friday being called Preparation Day where gifts are exchanged.\n\nThere is, of course, a darker side, much like Libertas has herself, to the Rain Festival. Every year Tirus's mutant population faces violence and increased discrimination. There isn't a burough that doesn't report beatings and even lynchings during the Festival. Many citizens point to the fact that such actions were once unofficially sanctioned by the government during darker chapters of the city's history. Indeed, every year groups of men, women, and even children are caught stockpiling hand to hand weapons for the annual so called \"Mutaneering.\" With elections in the following month after the Festival, rhetoric and hyperbole stir up many members of the population even further than the Festival would alone.\n\nIn mutant quarters of the city, the month's preparations are quite different. It is a time to be indoors and to keep a low profile. This is often a period of increased unemployment for mutants which only adds to the agitation of the city's more prejudiced population. Many households stockpile food during the month, forgoing the Friday dinners. There has also been a crackdown in recent years on any sort of mutant stockpiling for fear of an \"uprising,\" a draconian set of laws harkoning back to less liberal days.\n\nThe month of August is two sided, depending wholly on the genetic lottery. Trepidation for one set of population and celebration for the other.\n\n", "Tirus was a city that floated, if needed be.\n\nPreparations began long before September, intensifying in August. Notices were put up all around the city about the importance of waterproofing, a garish shock poster of a man standing on the roof of his half-sunken house, swimming in blue. Officials flitted from house to house to test leaks and climb up onto roofs for inspections. Families all chipped in their effort: patching up corners, hanging tarp, reinforcing the raft that laid underneath the house.\n\nA lucrative market grew for boats — carpenters made brisk business in order to tide themselves over the month, sometimes even fashioning boats from their hoarded stock well into the rainy season. The latest fashion swung abruptly towards wet hairstyles, and raincoats: flared, buttoned cloaks made out of a tarp-like material, a formless thing as drab as the impending skies of grey.\n\nFlags were hung up outside buildings to distinguish themselves from the others in the thick of rain: the water-lily motif of the floating teahouse, the iron-black hammer of the blacksmith, and the gilded, elaborate royal crests and noble emblems of the rich. Towels stacked in neat, fluffy columns at the entrances of establishments, waiting for their rain-soaked guests.\n\nWhen the rains came the houses were thrown into disarray, turning into mobile homes that drifted on a huge lake. A glowing, lamp-lit market alight with camaraderie and the thunderous pelting of rain.\n\nAt the turn of the month the skies cleared, the houses landing wherever they wished, next to new neighbours as the water dried up and drained away. \n\nThe rain was the lifeblood of the people of Tirus, water running in their veins like blood. But whatever life the rain gave, it took away, too.\n\nThe first day of sunlight brought the people out into the streets, into the town square where they stood to remember those they have lost in the Great Rain of last month, and the years before — their shoes gleaming wet with rainwater.\n", "The child's eyes were huge as her grandfather spoke. She had heard this story countless times before, but it never tired her to listen again. He always put a few new details in each time, varying the timeless tale.\n\n\"And so August came,\" he continued, voice rough but comfortable. \"And the city whipped into a frenzy. Farmers erected roofs over their vast crop-lands - an expensive endeavour, to be sure, but one that had proved absolutely necessary. The government helped to subsidize the venture, naturally. Carpenters and metal-workers reinforced these roofs, as well as those covering public buildings, power plants and the homes of those who could afford it. Last rose the sorcerors - because remember, Tirus was once a city of both magic and science, sparks and metal. They wove protective spells to cover the entire city, to make water simply slide off surfaces, to lessen the amount that would fall. As August approached its end, they worked tirelessly with engineers to convert streets into canals. It was a frantic time, and the only truly happy ones were those selling boats to replace the automobiles, those selling umbrellas, and children like yourself.\"\n\nThe little girl clapped excitedly. \"Go on, grampa,\" she urged. \"How come we don't have September Rain anymore?\"\n\n\"It still rains in September,\" he said teasingly. \"Why, it rained just the other day. You were stomping in puddles and got your dress completely soaked.\"\n\n\"You know what I mean!\" she exclaimed. \n\nHis eyes twinkled at her. \"Oh but you already know why...won't it bore you to hear it again?\"\n\nShe shook her head vehemently.\n\nHe chuckled. \"Well, I'll tell it again, then,\" he said. \"Despite all the protective measurements, the September Rain always took its toll, in both resources and lives. And so all the great wizards and witches convened and brainstormed a simple yet powerful spell that would get slow the Rain down, so it falls the same in September as it does in all other months. And because they required the voices of innocents, they asked the children of Tirus to sing the simply rhyme, once a day, for all of September. And it worked, though at a price. The loss of September Rain coincided with the decline of magic. Maybe it was a direct effect. Maybe it was because of the increased progress of technological advance. We may never know.\"\n\nHe grew silent and only spoke again when she prodded him with: \"the rhyme, grampa.\" He smiled at her, and she smiled back. They both began to recite what every being in Tirus knew, by heart:\n\nRain, rain, go away \nCome again another day \nAll is wet, all is gray \nRain, rain, won't you leave \nAnd let us play? \nWe miss the sun, we miss the blue \nThat warmth, so deep, so true \nWe'll see each other another day \nRain, rain, please go away \n" ]	[ 2, 6, 16 ]	[ "1438557178", "1438543002", "1438538511" ]
	[WP] A lifetime of discipline forsaken in a single moment.	4	[ "\"Gather around my little dragons.\"\n\nNing Wu watched his brothers and sisters take seats upon the cushions in front of their instructor, Magister Loodrumm. He was old, very old, perhaps as old as the Emperor himself. That is what the other children said at least. Ning Wu looked at the other children, he was the second oldest at eight. Yanice looked back at him. Her pale green eyes had worry in them. She was the youngest of the eighteen of them, only six.\n\n\"Aren't you going to sit for the lesson, brother?\" \n\nNing Wu turned to her. Brother. She had called him brother, but they were only half siblings. Her mother was Draca Afya, Brood Mother of Clan Faerin. Ning Wu had only met her a week ago. \n\nHe smiled to hide his doubts before taking a seat beside her. Magister Loodrumm had already begun talking about the history of the different clans.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Enough! You strike with fear! With hesitation! Why!? The target is paper and wood!\" The young boy snapped to attention, his spear at his side.\n\n\"No excuses, Zhu!\" He shouted automatically. Ning Wu sighed silently. Ricktor was corrected so much on his martial training that he barely listening anymore. He just snapped to attention and apologized. He did Clan YDdraig shame. He lacked the strength of the Molten Lord he claimed to represent. But Ning Wu's judgment was cut short when Zhu Kiran spotted him watching.\n\n\"Does the little Bahamut think he is so good that he can skip training as well?\" His voice was full of contempt. \"Draco Ricktor's handling of a spear does not concern yours, now does it?\"\n\n\"No, Zhu!\" Ning Wu sounded off before returning to his drills.\n\n~~~\n\n\"Rise for the Dracorex!\" \n\nThe group of twelve rose in perfect unison and bowed their heads. \"My Children...\"\n\nNing Wu raised his head and looked upon his father, Dracorex. Emperor of the Draco Dynasty. Power Incarnate. The Dragon himself. He looked feeble and old to Ning Wu. His hair was nearly gone, mere white wisps. His skin spotted with age. He even walked with a cane. It was little wonder why he longer did public appearances. This was a special occasion though. The twelve here were the final candidates. The First born son of every Brood Mother, with the exception of Draco Vance, of course. Vance was Draca Mira's second born son. The first born of Clan Hydra had died during the final trial of their primary instruction. Vance had to step up and take his place in Dragon School, but as the second born, Ning Wu did not consider him a contender. None of them were. None of them could stand up to Clan Bahamut. \n\n~~~\n\n\"I see it in your eyes.\" Dracorex said slowly. His voice was hoarse. Ning Wu maintained his straight face. \"You do not need to hide it from me boy. I can feel your contempt. I feed off of it. You think me old and weak.\" The Emperor smiled a distinctly not toothy smile. \"You're right you know. I am old and weak.\"\n\nThat caught Ning Wu's attention. Nothing had phased him all through training, not even when they named his Dragon Lord, heir to the Dynasty, the next Dracorex. But hearing the old man admit his weakness, that stumped him.\nI'm one hundred sixty three.\" Dracorex said laughing. \"I'm allowed to be old and weak now. I set the friggin record for being old. You think my father made it this far? Ha! I became Emperor when he was seventy two. The old Dragon still had a full head of hair!\"\n\nNing Wu frowned. He had expected to have the Birthing Ritual immediately and yet it been two weeks and still stood at the Emperor's side as a mere heir, not the next Dracorex. He had spent the last twenty years training every day for this moment and the old man had the nerve to live on.\n\n\"Want to see, how I stayed this healthy so old. It's not just the Dragon blood.\"\n\n~~~\n\nNing Wu's stomach wretched and he collapsed to the ground as he vomited. \n\n\"The magic is dying in this world!\" The Emperor yelled over the sound of the machine. \"Dragon blood and shadowy rituals cannot sustain the Empire any longer!\" \n\n\"But the people! The Draco Dynasty is full of them! And Blood Magic never dwindles. A few souls here and there and you stay young as long as you want!\"\n\nNing Wu opened his eyes and looked back to the Emperor. Behind him were his brothers and sisters, lifeless, soulless. \n\n\"Don't take it personal, boy. The people are there to serve the Emperor. That's what its all about! You were chosen among the best of my children, who are of course the best in the world. \n\n\"Come, take your destiny. Let their deaths bring you victory. Become the next Emperor!\"\n\nThe Emperor offered Ning Wu the ceremonial dagger. He could feel the weight of the other souls inside of it. One stab and he could kill the old emperor, absorbing all his power, and all those he had before him into the knife. With it he could ascend to the throne.\n\n\"The whole Dynasty...\" He began. \"The whole Dynasty only exists to perpetuate the Dragon. None of what we were taught...About being strong military leaders... About leading our people to Victory. Keeping the Demon Army at bay... Never bowing to the Council... That was all...\"\n\n\"Old stuff.\" The emperor answered. \"Curriculum from before magic started dying. A farce to keep the charade up. The Dynasty doesn't know things have changed. If the cattle understand it was to be slaughtered, it would not remain at the slaughter house.\"\n\nNing Wu clutched the dagger tightly. \n\n\"I have lived long enough in the fragile body, it is time I take the new one. Do not fear. You will remain, you won't even notice the change. It takes years for our consciousness to merge, for you to become the true Dragon.\"\n\n\"But why?\" Ning Wu asked. \"I wanted to be the Emperor of the Draco Dynasty. To lead my people to greatness. Why would I suffer so much just to become the king of his own food pile?\" Ning Wu slammed the knife to the ground and stomped it with his foot. The glass blade cracked.\n\n\"No!\" The Emperor yelled. \"That blade cannot be reforged! With out it the Draco Dynasty will fall!\"\n\nNing Wu's eyes narrowed. \"It already has.\" He stomped the knife once more, feeling it shatter beneath him. He expected an explosion or something, but only the faint sighing of the released souls came and it was drowned out by the machines. Ning Wu closed eyes and waited for the Royal guard to strike him down. The Emperor had no use for him now, he was unafraid.", "A continuation of a story [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3ew076/wp_youre_on_a_double_date_with_an_interesting/ctja4md)\n\n\nSilence settled over the smoky beach-side villa as OSS Agent Charles Hendricks slipped through the foyer, stepping over bloodied guards and shattered pottery. He cursed his luck as he reloaded the silenced High Standard HDM, certain that his target was now completely aware of his presence.\n\n\nThe palatial villa sat on a rising swell of beach several miles from Col de Sacremento, nestled among rolling fields and palm forests of Southwestern Uruguay, and it had taken Agent Hendricks several months to locate. However, considering the high level of security, and the German sub-machine guns now scattered amongst the remnants of the decidedly tacky foyer, he was in the right place. Charles cocked the pistol’s slide and ducked off into an alcove. He could hear frantic footsteps from the mansion’s second story, where his target surely waited. \n\n\nThe stairs would be watched by now, and he needed another route. Mentally scouring the villa’s blueprints, and running through several alternative entrances that he had identified, Charles headed back through the foyer and into the harsh South American sun. The smoldering hulk of his Buick lay where he had left it, partially embedded in the fountain which defined the circular driveway, surrounded by the bodies of several guards, and his unfortunate translator. He winced, knowing the heat he would take for crashing the expensive coup. He really needed to work on his German.\n\n\nIn a low crouch, Agent Hendricks wound his way around the adobe-walled mansion, the integrated silencer of his pistol leading the way. In a sense he missed the war, where combat was much more routine, the enemies and battle lines, politics and allegiances well defined. This was something new for the experienced agent, a grey area bordered in red tape. \n \n\nAround the side of the villa sat a squat, glass-walled solarium housing a variety of exotic flowering plants. Holstering the pistol, Charles jumped, gripped the gutter and hoisted himself onto its glass roof, careful to place his weight over the metal lattice between the panes. Up and over the peaked roof, he spied the trailings of the art-nouveau deck which framed the length of the mansion’s southern face, the Rio de la Plata glistening beyond a well-manicured lawn, past which he could barely make out the thin brown line that Buenos Aires. A fishing boat drifted with the waves just off shore, and Charles smiled. \n\n\nThe blueprints had indicated a cluster of recently fortified rooms along the balcony, which Charles believed held his prey’s office. Years of intense OSS training saw Agent Hendricks slink onto the deck without a sound and redraw his pistol. The painted ceramic-tile expanse was empty, save for an assortment of whicker lounge chairs and a potted palm, and Charles thanked his luck. Crouching below the wide salt-stained windows he made his way down the deck.\n\n\nThree windows down he heard something; hushed voices. The thick adobe walls muffled the conversation, but what Charles could make out sounded conclusively German. He leaned back against the wall and retrieved a small plate mirror from a coat pocket. Below the window, Charles slowly lifted the mirror, tilting it to survey the room.\n\n\nThree men in black shirts and sub-machine guns, security, standing against the far wall. Two more seated to their left, fiddling with something on a low table. A stuffed tiger in full leap near the window. Gaudy impressionist paintings. A lithe local girl wearing little more than rags reclining on a couch and eating an apple. A large oak desk. A fat man in a white suit examining... Charles replaced the mirror in his pocket. There he was, his target, after months of agonizing preparation. Secretly he lived for these moments.\n\n\nFive guards, ten rounds in his magazine. Running through his options, Charles settled on a well-tested approach. Searching through his backpack he retrieved a Japanese twin-barreled flare gun, a trophy from his pre-OSS tour in the Pacific, and checked its payload. Leaving the pack on the deck, Charles hoisted both of his pistols and took a deep, steeling breath. The next few moments were a blur.\n\n\nThe butt of his HDM smashed through the antique plate glass, followed by a vicious flare aimed at the group of three guards. Four muffled gunshots sent the other two slumping in their chairs. He dove through the window, using his momentum to fall into a roll onto the smooth bamboo floorboards. The three remaining guards were clawing at their seared eyes. He heard the local girl shriek, and the fat man bellow a stream of German obscenities. One of the guards managed to lift his MP44 and spray the southern wall of the office, shattering glass and shredding wooden shutters. Taking cover behind the stuffed tiger, Charles felt several bullets hit the animal too close to his head. The rain of fire stopped and he heard the guard struggling to reload the weapon. Spinning out from his cover, Charles sent three perfectly aimed shots into the stunned group. Three rounds left. Where’s the girl.\n\n\nThe flare fizzled and died, leaving a smoking crater in the chest of one of the dead guards. Charles rose and aimed the gun at the fat man, who had shifted from vulgarities to a strange mewling. “How many more are there?” he growled, but if the German understood the question he showed no sign. He was trembling, blinking away tears from the phosphorus flare, and the strange vacuum tube in his hand beat a rapid pace on a leather writing mat. \n\n\nNot taking his eyes off of the elusive former Nazi scientist, Charles took a slim brown envelope from beneath his coat and slid it across the table. He nodded to the German, and then to the paper, “Lesen”. The document within detailed, in German, the intricacies of Operation Paperclip, the promise of political immunity and a hefty stipend, in return for contribution to the American scientific community. It outlined other notable minds already signed on, Van Braun , Eckert, Stuhlinger. The German opened the envelope, slipped a pair of slim reading glasses onto his sunburned nose, and skimmed the page. His eyes grew wide, and he looked up to Agent Hendricks with a hint of skepticism. \n\n\n“Wirst du kommen?” Charles asked in halting German. The former Nazi chewed his lip and looked around the lavish office, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Gut, decke schnell. Fünf minute.” The German vaulted from his chair, grabbed a large suitcase from a closet nearby and began to pack. As the German filled the suitcase, Charles walked back to the deck, lifted the flare gun and fired the remaining flare over the ocean. He watched as the fishing boat powered up and spun towards the beach.\n\n\nSeveral minutes later the pair hurried down the stairs and onto the rear patio. The sun was glaring now, reflecting off the calm waters as the fishing boat cut a sharp wake. The German, lugging the suitcase and scrambling to keep up with Agent Hendricks, stopped as the boat slid up to the shore and dropped a cleverly disguised boarding ramp.\n\n\nA well-tanned man, dressed in khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, stepped onto the beach. “Charley, my boy, so good to see you.” OSS Agent Rodger Parker seemed quite at home in the lazy beachfront community as he casually strode towards the two men. Charles glanced over the other agent’s shoulder as several poorly disguised, and obviously armed, soldiers exited the converted landing craft.\n\n\n“Agent Parker, this is Doctor August Schulze.” The tanned agent nodded to the German and motioned for the suitcase, which Schulze willingly handed over. “Easy take, Hendricks?” Charles shook his head and unconsciously glanced back to the villa. “Not so much, the guards didn’t take so kindly to my translator.” Agent Parker nodded, “Damn shame. Well, let’s get this kraut on the boat, it’s too damn hot to be out under the sun.” Agent Parker motioned for the German to follow, and Charles fell in line behind him. \n\n\nAt the water’s edge Agent Parker ushered the scientist onto the boat, and handed to suitcase to one of the soldiers. “That’s quite a lot of firepower you brought, Parker, could have used the help back there.” Charles remarked, eyeing obvious bulge beneath one of the soldier’s sun shirts. He turned to the man, “What’s your name, soldier?” The man looked to Parker nervously, and merely smiled. “Soldier? Name and rank.” Again the guard smiled and nodded.\n\n\nParker, who was watching he German settle on a bench and don a life jacket, nodded. “Ya, I was gonna talk to you about that, Hendricks.” He turned around, a pistol leveled at Charles’ chest. “Sorry, old sport, but the world is changing. The war’s over, and its every man for himself now.” Instinctual, Charles started to draw his own pistol as one of the guards shouted something in, what, Russian?\n\n\nHe heard a gunshot, and a sparks exploded behind his eyes as the world went dark. He hit the sand, tasted salt, smelled gunpowder, seared flesh and diesel fuel, and heard the boat roar to life before slipping into unconsciousness.\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1439418677", "1438715712" ]
	[WP] She doesn't know you're talking about her	2	[ "I can’t believe I left the head phones and food behind. I was in a rush, but that’s no excuse. I don’t know which I was more upset about; a two hour train ride without music or a movie? That’s horrible. But I was damn hungry, too. I’d been working all day feeding others, with no time to feed myself. Strange how that works, spending 12 hours in a kitchen and realizing, as you crawl into bed, that you haven’t had a bite to eat.\n\n“Last call for MARC train 198 to Edgewood, Aberdeen, Perryville. Last call, boarding at Gate B.” I heard it just as I was stepping out of FYE, so I ran over to the Self-Serve Ticket Kiosk.\n\nYour Card Was Not Recognized.\n\nOh. Well that’s swell. I run down the line and tell the first guy I come to that I need a ticket. “I’m not open. Where are you going?”\n\nPerryville. The train that’s boarding right now.\n\n“Oh. Yeah, you need to get on that asap. I’m not open though. She can help you.”\n\nOkay. Thanks for wasting my time. I move to the next lady.\n\n“Where are you going?”\n\nStill Perryville. Weird, right?\n\n“11 dollars, please.”\n\nAs I scrawl some name I’ve never seen onto my credit card receipt, she informs me that I “better run, cuz that train’s leaving.”\n\nSo I do. I run, and get on the train. A couple seconds later the doors close. I check my phone: it’s leaving three minutes early, I realize as I throw my shit onto an open set of seats. The woman across from me… is pretty attractive, actually. This time I hadn’t even sought out a good-looking travel companion, it just kind of happened. Anyway, she looks up at me, confused. Maybe she was expecting to know me. I ask her if the seat is taken.\n\n“No, go ahead.”\n\nAnd now I’m sitting awkwardly across from her, writing about her so I can look busy.\n\nIt’s cool though. She’s getting off at this stop.", "She had the thousand yard stare, the elderly woman in her chair. It rocked like a cradle, calming her as it would a baby. She needed days like this.\n\n\"Do you remember Diana? Princess Diana?\"\n\nMary also needed days like this, probably more than the elderly woman herself. Mary couldn't speak at all on the other days - when the elderly woman would be sprawled on the floor, moaning and curling her bony fingers into the carpet weakly. Mary had to go sit in her car on those days, and stare at the steering wheel and wonder what she had accomplished by visiting.\n\n\"And how I won that competition when I was a child? I wrote a poem about how pretty she was.\"\n\nThose were the elderly woman's bad days. She would moan something like 'I don't wanna go school today!'. Mary triggered these incidents sometimes, but today was an alright day. Mary wouldn't say good because these meetings were always painful.\n\n\"So we met her. I've got the picture here, look.\"\n\nShe had a crappy boyfriend a few months back - told her what he believed to be the truth during one of their tiffs.\n\n\"She doesn't know you're talking about her!\"\n\nBut Mary knew better - even better than her sisters.\n\nThe elderly woman seemingly didn't notice the picture at all. Mary kept it steady in her line of sight, looking upon her with hope.\n\nOf course she does.\n\nThe elderly woman's eyes shifted ever so slightly.\n\nShe's my mother.", "And there she is again. She's that beauty that is not on the mark of, lets say, a Hollywood starlet or some greek goddess. I mean to me, she's more than that. Her beauty is tangible. You look at her and you could say to yourself, I'd like to watch her grow older. I'd like to be part of that. \n\nShe struts, but not like Madonna on the stage, but more like a woman whose shoes are too big for her. Her heels, I mean. Her click clacks sort of give score to her almost face-planting strut.\n\nIts adorable. I have a hard time focusing on the coffee on my table. This is where we met on Fridays. After work, we both grab some coffee and discuss important matters at hand like why in the world do paper clips exist? There's a stapler, use it. If you don't want to staple the papers, then , use a folder. Why are Velcro shoes not a thing anymore? Why do half-gallons of milk come in both plastic and cardboard? And whats wrong with ice cubes in your milk? \n\nWe have a fetish for milk. We both believe we were once cows in our past life.\n\nBut these past few meets I've been going on about this, girl...I've met. I've been asking her advice on how, how I should tell this girl I'm in love with her. She's been a good sport about it. Really supportive, she knows about my last relationship and how I vowed to be single for twenty years or at least until I've decided what to do with the rest of my life. Love is or was an after thought. But then this girl she just sort of collided into my world.\nBut this whole thing is that whole speculative question that 'everyone' has when it comes to something taboo or possibly criminalizing; that 'I have this friend who...' and so on. Friend. Right...So I go on about this 'friend' this 'girl'...\n\nGwen, the beauty goddess whose heels are too big for her: the one I'm meeting, orders up. She smiles at me, with her iPhone ear buds still in her ears. She's totally listening to This American Life. I told her to listen to the episode about the kid who grew up in a family whose parents fought in front of them and even in public, and as a result this kid has a hard time keeping his honest opinions to himself. Even going as far as telling a girl why she should date him. The good things about it and also the bad because, he's fair and honest. I'm almost positive she's listening to it. She has that look, like she's trying to multitask but everyone knows that listening to This American Life requires your full attention, because its just so fucking good...especially that episode.\n\nFrankly speaking; I'm really a fucking wreck. I'm nervous, because I told her that I'd produce a picture of this girl and I--well...'I have this friend whose in love with this girl, but she doesn't know it, and she thinks he's talking about some other girl...\". So i figured I'd just come out with it. Just tell her. Finally I can reveal the big secret and kill this insomnia inducing, self destructing feeling that has been sitting inside me like a Mentos in a cola bottle. \n\nI prepped myself of this moment. I wrote down everything I was going to say. Everything I wanted to clear up. I just wanted to be undone with this ridiculous fear...fear of being rejected. Fear of her sitting back, shocked and with her cute little jaw slightly opened, trying to find a way of telling me sweetly how she just 'thinks I'm better off her friend'...Friend-zone...someone bring in the firing squad. But nevertheless, I've come prepared for either telling her my deepest secret and exposing the truth like some whistle blower and then in the end getting the girl, or that total soul sucking awkward.............................. silence. Load the rifles.\n\nGwen makes her way to my table, which I've set up for two, by that I mean I've put my jacket on the opposite chair. And which she usually ends up using like a pillow, because our conversations tend to go for a few hours and she takes my cotton lining jacket and bundles it up and rests her elbows on it. I feel useful, to her, I can provide comfort. I have comfortable jackets. I can be her elbow comfort provider. Gwen gets about a foot from the table and suddenly her phone rings. She stops, wobbles a bit, her too big heels, then answers her phone. She holds up her index finger, 'one'...one what?\n\n'One second, Dennis'...She turns and goes back out.\n\nOdd.\n\nNormally she's all mine. This is our time, usually. She stands outside the coffee house entrance, well- trying to stand. She's compensating...pacing slightly while on her phone. I figure this is the best moment to recollect my thoughts. Think about the fight. Think about the punches I may have to pull, remind myself she's got a good left hook. One glove says 'Boyfriend/ future husband' the other says 'Idiot'. That's the left glove. She keeps the right, at a distance, protecting her grill, her semi-symmetrical face.\nI have this horrible feeling that 'idiot' is going to be jabbed at me more times than I can defend against. \n\nI'm not even a boxer. I know nothing about boxing. But I'm thinking this is going down like a Tyson fight. Multi-million dollar fight night. Gwen versus Dennis, the bout for Gwen's heart. \"Standing in the right corner weighing in at 160 pounds, 1 heart break, Zero lays, and five friend-zones in a lifetime!!!\" \n\nOr maybe Gwen is the winning belt? Shit, I dunno now...I gotta let it go.\n\nGwen is still pacing, Her 'One second' finger is in her left ear. She's forgotten about me. I'm almost thinking maybe i should go out and see if everything's okay. But then she laughs. whats' she laughing at? Do I make her laugh like that? I think I do...Right? I gotta think back. I do recall a few times. I'm funny. I got jokes...whats the difference between a snowman and a snowwoman? Snowballs.\n\nShe laughed really hard at that one. I remember that...\n\nI can't take it, I gotta get her attention...this is our time. Its precious to me. Its the best time I've ever wasted with someone. And now, this wasting time I enjoy wasting is being wasted in a way I don't like. I stand up and take a step forward and she finally turns to me...Mouths \"I'm so sorry\". \n\nOkay, she hadn't forgotten about me. I see her finally ending the phone call. \n\nI'm nervous again. Shit. Okay...this time its real. And I didn't even go over my strategy...Gwen reaches the table and finally sits.\nI try to act cool and not at all concerned. \n\n'that was a long phone call' I say. Wow...totally smooth Dennis. Nice going.\n\n'its my friend, Andrea. She's actually gonna stop by. You don't mind right?' She says. I'm freaaakking the fuck out right now. Of course I mind! OF COURSE!! I'm about to spill my guts out to you!! Of course I mind!!! This wasn't supposed to bring spectators.\nThis is our time...I try and play it cool, which is getting more difficult by the nano second.\n\n\"Nah, its fine Gwen, three's a company.\" I bitterly say. Gwen sort of half-chuckles half-scoffs. \n\n\"Well, I mean, she's...Dennis you okay?\" She looks at me with a genuine concern. She's found out. Abort, abort, abort!\n\n\"yeah...just...its nothing. Sorry, just a lot on my mind.\"\n\n\"Hey, is this about Lisa?\" . Lisa is 'that friend'. Lisa is Gwen but Gwen doesn't know it. \n\n\"yyyy--eah--kind of...no, yeah. Its...you're right.\" \n\n\"You have that picture? I need to see this angel you keep talking about. I gotta see the luckiest girl in the world, Dennis. Have you told her yet?\"... Jesus fucking Christ, can I at least get a warm up first? This girl goes for the juggler. I don't even know how to respond. I tried using english, but:\n\n'hemmmughhhh...nnnn...I-IIIII....no.'. \n\nThat's me. That's me in the corner, that's me in the spotlight...losing my religion.\nI excuse myself to go to the bathroom. The perfect strategy to go mad in an isolated area. Dunk my head in the toilet, maybe eat some toilet paper, hopefully choke. But, I just stand there. Listening to the music play...the song Joey by Concrete Blonde plays. My ex loved that song. Her face comes to me like a sudden migraine. An odd thing happens. I just start to ball, like a child whose lost. I am lost. What the fuck am i doing? I'm totally going against my vows. I can never get married, i can't even keep my own vows. How could I vow to someone else? \n\nWheres that firing squad at? I finally stop crying and make my way to the sink, wash my hands, because I guess its the only natural thing to do after you've cried in the bathroom. I dry my hands and make my way back out to the tables...and that's when I see it. It, her...the other girl...whats her name? I already forgot.\n\nI stand there. About twenty five feet from our table. Now invaded by the other girl...the girl whose invading the love of my life. The love I waited a few months to accept. A thousand cups of coffee, hours wasted of discussing things that never really mattered anyway. The girl who I thought I could find a new hope in love with. And in this slow motion, gut wrenching truth, i realize of all the things we talked about, we never talked about...\n\nGwen and the other girl. Her friend, her friend whose got her tongue down Gwen's cute little mouth. \n\nThat's me in the corner, that's me in the spotlight, losing my religion." ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1438728010", "1438729867", "1438759844" ]
	[WP] The universe shatters leaving you the only human survivor amongst (mostly) dead ruins of countless worlds.	6	[ "The universe cracked like a vase\n\nand splintering shards of space\n\ndrifted around the dying stars\n\nbrushing the graveyard of Mars\n\n\n\nThe pieces are broken through Earth\n\nEnding the place of our birth\n\nA soundless shatter ends today\n\nHeralding sudden decay\n\n\n\nThe last of humankind is me\n\nWitnessing eternity\n\nWhen the air runs out in space\n\nPeacefully my death I'll face", "I look around seeing a destroyed universe, countless have died in the aftermath.\n\nI look around to see no one else, just me. I get a sense of loneliness. \n\nI was born and raised by 2 good people, I didn't go to school but I heard horror stories of that place. My parents taught me how to read and write and the basics. Homeschooling they called it. They said that school to them was too bad for them to endure their child into lies. My parents were lenient yes but they still taught me, my dad worked at a college so he coulda sent me but I told him no. I found my own job without the need.\n\nBut, being homeschooled left me in a bad state emotionally at times, I was in a crippling loneliness and yes depression ensured. My parents kept me happy though, they were my only company throughout my life.\n\nBut, all good things must come to an end. My parents were good with me yes, but financially were massively in debt with a dangerous man. He had them kidnapped for probably 30 years. They were probably tortured or killed but, I never got to see them again.\n\nMy dad had a family my mom did not. my dad had an uncle who was wealthy but hated him, he invited me into his home and he let me stay for as long as I needed. He was really rich, I asked him why he didn't help out my dad and all I saw on his face was regret. Too soon, I never asked again.\n\nFor 9 years I lived the billionaire life style and found happiness in money. They say money can't buy happiness. It came pretty damn close. My uncle died of cancer and left it all to me, he was paranoid with women. He didn't trust them, maybe it's better not to be in love to then have it broken by a gold digger. I guess having money prevents love to flourish, it clouds people's judgement. \n\nHe left it all to me, I became ceo of his company and I overall improved it. I found my happiness in work, and turn his 2.4 billion dollar company into a 64.6 billion dollar company in 12 years. All the people that I loved are gone, and I was really feeling the depression thing now.\n\nI got help, I am smart after all, I didn't do drugs or get drunk I knew that at my state I would end up addicted and I don't want that on my conscious.\n\nfor 8 years life was normal, I had my pills to aid in my depression and sought help for my loneliness. but on my 50th birthday everything changed.\n\nScientists told us about the possibility of this within the next trillion years, as in not soon. The universe imploded in on itself, breaking all realities that once existed. Killing every known thing in existence. Besides one.\n\nI guess I was at the right place in the universe at the wrong time, I survived this to find myself in a white space, the universe was a dot slowly getting smaller until it disappeared\n\nI looked around to find nothing, I guess this is the physical realm of nothingness. I broke that chain I suppose.\n\nBut there was 1 other thing, a button.\n\nIt was just a simple button, so I clicked, and a dot emerged, instantly after pressing I gained all the knowledge of the universe that I created and all the power that I could ever need with it. I was essentially god. Earth formed normally, and humans evolved and took its part in the playing field. It all seemed to be repeating again but with some slight differences. For one, I don't exist. In this universe it was me who was killed during childbirth, not my sister. My family was financially stable with the aid of my uncle and they lived good long lives. In my reality, it was really quite the opposite.\n\nI close my eyes and think about my life before this, I had my problems with loneliness but atleast I got help, here I can only watch. I can't talk to anyone, I know I said I had infinite power but I can not do one thing and thats the ability to talk to someone. \n\nI found happiness in the universe that I created, and treated it like my son for 14 trillion years. I age a lot slower so 14 trillion years is around 38 human years, I was dieing and used my last breath to recreate with a new leader, a new sole survivor of the imploded universe, and then I vanish from existence.\n\n" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1438741529", "1438759055" ]
	[WP] Write a story that ends with "And then I died.".	2	[ "Today I decided to end all the bullshit in my life. I contemplated what would be the easiest way to end it. I decided jumping off a building would give me a few seconds of freedom before it was all over. So I jumped...And then I died. ", "Alright, 5 years ahead, I got a phone call and it was a deep voice saying not to go outside. I did and I found a box, so I opened it. In the box, there was a peice of paper from the Death Note that had my name on it. And then I died.", "It all started one particularly brutal winter. The whole town was frozen solid when I got back. I decided I would take it upon myself to defeat the evil dragon that brought upon this cold. Whilst I was making my way to his layer I realized I forgot my sweater and was contracting a cold. In my weakened state I soon collapsed onto the icy floor. I contracted hypothermia and despite my attempts to recover, I soon realized it was too late for me and all I had was the hope that I wouldn't die in vain. I took my final few moments as an oppurtunity to reflect on my accomplishments in life. I quickly came to the realization that I've been a huge asshole and then I died.", "I decided to explore the barren cavern, although my flashlight batteries seemed to be fading away. To my own surprise, the path is smooth and easy on my wore down,beaten up hiking boots. I could hear footsteps of the unknown traveler pacing behind me. I pick up my pace and find a small divet where I hear the noises of water flowing and see the sun shining in. As I make my way to the area, I hear a screech of \" GIVE ME MY BOOTS BACK\" . And then, I died.\n\n--Enjoy--", "Sometimes, being a time traveler sucks. You keep running into people who want to talk about things you haven't done yet, you are constantly avoiding yourself and somehow you always seem to miss your own birthday. That first part is the worst. Even if you look years younger than you do when (from their perspective) you first meet them (a fact often attributed to, depending on the time period, wizards or cosmetic surgery) they still want to talk about the(ir) past as if it should mean anything to you.\n\nOne such encounter was just last week (for me). I am a frequent visitor to the Khovd space port in 2330's Mongolia. As usual, I went to my favorite vendors to get what must be the best yak jerky ever. Naranbaatar is one of those people who it totally clueless about my fluctuating age and is under the assumption that I live linearly, which is probably why he said this:\n\n\"Ligeia? What? . . . I'm sorry. I just didn't expect to see you again, especially not after what happened Tuesday. I know modern medicine can do great things, but there really wasn't that much left of you.\"\n\n\"I'm a little lost, Baatar. What happened Tuesday?\"\n\nBaatar is a good man who excels at making jerky, but he is terrible at telling stories. The whole thing was out of order and filled with such helpful descriptions as \"the thing with the red stuff on top\" and \"the really tall guy with the funny beard who looks like that guy from that old show.\"\n\nI really didn't get half of it, but from what I can tell, I went to Khovd, met a hyper-rhino and then I died. Great. ", "It was harder than you’d think to pretend that it wasn’t happening to me. I was only 12\nwhen I was diagnosed, and since that moment it had haunted me. The constant tests strained me to the point of contemplating suicide on nearly a daily basis. I watched as what had once been a beautiful, loving girl, full of joy and happiness to spare, transformed into a loathsome, depressed, shell of a human being, barely bearing traces of the ray of sunshine she once was, what she had always expected herself to be.\n\n\"Just pretend it isn’t there,” my parents and friends told me. “Act like nothing has changed. It hasn’t. We still love you and we’re always going to be here for you.” Right. Just act like you’re not fucking dying slowly and painfully. I simply couldn’t do it. Eating breakfast? Rachel, you’re dying. Painting a picture? Hey Rachel, remember me, your cancer? I’m killing you. Chemistry class? That’s some very nice hydrochloric acid… I bet I can kill you before that does, though. I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t pretend. I was dying, I almost wanted to die, and there was nothing I could do about it.\n\nI tried to do everything on my bucket list before the inevitable struck. I went to Disneyland, and was given special treatment. The thrill is a little less prominent with death lurking over your shoulder in the ominous form of stage III breast cancer, I have to say. My defective seatbelt on one of the coasters added a nice touch. My mom took me skydiving, and I nearly died when my parachute failed to deploy the first time. I almost wished that I had. Somehow, they managed to afford to take me to Amsterdam. I insisted they didn’t, as my medical expenses were high on their own, but my hands were tied, and I was given a fairly entertaining time touring the capitol. On the plane ride home, an engine failed. I remember my mother clutching my hand tightly and my little brother wailing to my left as the air masks dropped as the pilot insisted we remain calm and buckle our seatbelts. We are going to die right now, I thought, almost content with the image, but we didn’t. Somehow, the pilot managed to make an emergency landing in New York. Had we departed even twenty minutes later, we would not have made it to an airport. Time after time, it seemed, I managed to cheat death.\n\t\nWhen I was 15, I beat the cancer. It turns out weeks of relentless chemo, countless surgeries, and years of agonizing pain would pay off with patience. My parents were ecstatic, and my friends were overjoyed. Even I started to crack a smile every now and again, a rare occurrence for me. My hair started to grow back, and I was able to eat more.\n\t\nThere was no evidence of cancer when I was coming up on my sixteenth birthday, which led to the planning of a dual birthday-and-congratulatory party. Congratulations on narrowly avoiding death about 24 times and surviving another year without dying, I thought to myself as I mounted my bike for the short ride down to the local bowling alley where the celebration was to be held. \t\n\t\nShe wasn’t paying attention when she came around the corner; whatever her boyfriend had to say over text was apparently more important. I have to say, it was probably at least partly my fault; I had headphones in and couldn’t hear her reckless approach. I always had an affinity for musical theater, and Empty Chairs at Empty Tables was playing at maximum volume in my ears when she swerved. \n\t\nYears of anger. Pain. Depression. After barely surviving a defective airplane ride, skydiving experience, a life-threatening illness, and countless other unreal situations, I began to think that maybe, just maybe, someone up there was looking out for me. Maybe life wouldn’t always be so bad. And then, I died.\n\n-\n\nThis is my first time posting here as I am coming out of a long period of writer's block so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading!", "My sleep was interrupted by sudden brightness and deep shakes. I jolted from my silk-covered bed, moving quickly to a wall to survey the situation. The shaking stopped. I knew I wasn't alone in the room. A large shadow stretched across the carpet, blocking the light. I froze. They say if you don't move, they can't see you. Waiting a few moments, I decided to make a run for it, trying to dodge the darkness without seeing the horror that caste it. I felt a surge of air. Pressure pushing down on my from above. I wasn't fast enough. There was an instant of extreme pressure all over. And then, I died. \n" ]	[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2 ]	[ "1438748928", "1438750429", "1438750775", "1438750861", "1438751636", "1438753065", "1438757251" ]
Bonus idea: The process will kill if it fails...	[WP] A freak accident turned a man immortal. Now he tries desperately to replicate the event for someone else, so he won't end up alone for eternity.	125	[ "The Disk wasn’t supposed to revolve that day. It needed more basic testing before it should’ve been turned on. A black, round device, studded with small wires slithering inside. To induce low fields for the coils inside. He was there, late at night, preparing a report for the following morning, dried coffee mug on his cluttered desk. A picture of her adorned one of the corners, her radiant smile reminding him of the day they had met in the shade of the trees by the lake. The room hummed. He stopped writing and looked towards the table in the middle, the Disk cradled on its spindly stilts. It started spinning internally, the hum growing ever louder. A bright flash lit up the room.\n\nAt first he hadn’t noticed anything different. He felt a bit sore, but the Geiger meter registered no radioactivity, and the doctor told him the next day that it was likely fatigue from his research. That he should take a break. Something was off, but he couldn’t quite understand what. A week had passed, and the project was going well, the presentation having granted him more money to pursue the study of the Disk. Usually, he shaved in the morning, but for some reason his face was devoid of any stubbles. Odd, but more time to do other stuff, he thought. He went downstairs to prepare the breakfast. She was still asleep, tired from her late shift, and he covered some French toast he had prepared with a bag and left her a note. She would call him around noon to catch up. \n\nHe added a new picture on his desk, from a recent vacation along the coast, the two of them looking at the camera with a smooth, creamy sea behind them. Despite some progress, the Disk had not given up its secrets, and had been inert for years. Her hair was a duller shine, a few hesitant lines contouring her beaming smile. Strange. Horror gripped his mind, as he rushed to the mirror in the lavatory. His hair was still dark and shining, and not a single hint of a new beard, as if time had stood still. And not even a random flu in a very long time. No. It couldn’t be possible. It took all those years to notice. What if it was too late?\n\nHe now understood what the effect of the Disk was, or at least had a very good idea. He didn’t age, he still retained a youthful appearance, and swept the compliments about his appearance without any real care for them. He returned next to the Disk that held the answer. Noon. The phone rang, and he jumped in surprise. Yet he stood there, his legs petrified, his gaze running along the equations scribbled on the blackboards. Ending on the photo. The phone stopped ringing. \n\nActivating the Disk carried a great risk, and he felt a bit selfish for what he wanted to try to do. But he couldn’t leave her behind, he couldn’t live without him next to her side, without her next to his. It had to be done in complete secrecy. What he had discovered after the flash, many years ago, were shiny streaks running along the object, that weren’t there when he first began his research. He chalked it up to permanent damage, and slowed down the testing until it could be remedied. Unsure of what might happen a second time, he remained inside the room for a whole week, running various experiments and simulations. What if he were to be affected again? What if the Disk were to fail, or induce a different effect? Tirelessly, he peered over the models, refined them, changed the constants, introduced new wiring. They spent New Year’s in the deserted cafeteria, his tired eyes gazing at her. Still beautiful, after so many years, heading for the certainty of Nature’s resolve. And him, defying that very Nature. Yet he stood silent about his plan.\n\nHe visited her daily at the care home, where she was lying on a bed with white linens. She hated that bland arrangement, and he brought her flowers to colour the colourless walls. There had been arguments about what had been happening to him, how he never seemed to age, and he became increasingly isolated, firing all his research staff to keep a low profile, the Disk project abandoned with the room and building sold to an anonymous patron. Time and time again, he promised her that he would change things. A tear rolled down his cheek as gazed at her grey hair and sad eyes, eyes that he so vividly remembered as being vibrant and full of energy. As if it was yesterday. More work to be done for the night, he felt that he was nearing the end of the search, he would be successful, although at a heavy price. The wheelchair was waiting to transport her, all was set, it wouldn’t be long.\n\nThe phone rang, but he ignored it, his mind delved in the simulation. He had found a way to get responses from the Disk, and without damaging it. All he needed now was to bring her in the room and use the right amount of power. He had succeeded, he knew it would work, it had to work, he had spent all his waking time on that Disk, and now it was finally ready. Someone knocked at the door. Someone had entered the closed building and was knocking on the glass, a dark silhouette behind it. He opened the door, furious that someone would disturb his work. A nurse, a thin, young woman, out of breath. She told him of her, how she had told the nurse to call, to summon him to her linen bed, by the flowers. That she had passed away peacefully in her sleep, calling out his name. He told the nurse, in a hoarse, breathless voice, that he wanted to be left alone for a few moments, and the woman exited the room. Yellowed picture of the couple in hand, he collapsed, warm tears falling on the dusty floorboards. The Disk whined slowly, then shattered. \n", "I serve the food while sticking feather under their noses.\n\nI work hard at trying to convince the cook to put more black pepper in all the food.\n\nSodas are now complimentary. \n\nBut nothing works.\n\nI've tried tampering with the food, but no one gets indigestion, it's all futile. I cry.\n\nI've waited tables for longer than our current manager has worked, I've had no raises whatsoever. These people, they're not cruel, nor malevolent. But one needs to be punished, just so my curse may be softened ever so slightly.\n\nI don't want anyone to suffer, unfortunately the person I want to suffer the least is myself. But everywhere I go, no matter how long I wait, no one else does it.\n\nMy curse is endless.\n\nNo one else sneezes, burps and hiccups at the same time.", "\"No Virginia...that's not right. Watch me.\" James leap off the ledge and right onto the corner of a dumpster outside an Indian restaurant. The corner impaled him. Virginia gasped in horror at James' guts being all over the walls and his flinching body just kept flicking like a circuit that could quite make it around. \"You see now? You have to land right on your heart. That way the bacteria and the curry can seep into your wounds and increase your immune system ten fold. At least that's what I think is going on but, I'm just a vet tech.\"\n\n\"I don't know about this James...\" \n\n\"Just fall right onto my blood marks! The curry cured my autoimmune disease too so you'll be fine! Jump Virginia jump!\" The girl leapt into the air. The angle was right but they hadn't adjusted for a difference in height and weight. Her head ran right into the corner- killing her instantly. James ran over coddling her head. \n\n\"Oh shit! Not another one!\" He looked around, no one was near. James pulled her head off the corner and pushed it down into the dumpster. There were four or five other bodies in there as well. Virginia was just another attempt, you'd think he would've learned by now. \n\nJames pulled out a small pocket knife and sliced off a nice juicy piece of Virginia's arm. He smelled it, then licked it. \"At least I have lunch for later now.\" James let the dumpster lid fall, sealing in the death. He walked with a rhythm, he started to hum \"Its a Small World\" as he left the alley. Just before turning the corner he leaped and clicked his heels together. Now he just had to find dinner.\n\nEdit: punctuation", "“...radio,” a voice breaks into the haze. Jonathan slowly pries one gummed-up eyelid apart from another. His right cheek is cold, his pinky finger feels like it’s been slept on, the lights are too damn bright and there’s a crick in his neck.\n\nOh shit. He’s at work.\n \nTall, thin, with thick curls of short white hair, a man stands in front of his counter. If the customer were any more impatient, he would be tapping his foot onto the thin grimy carpet, but he stands there, watching the seconds pass as Jonathan gets his face off the glass display case.\n\n“I’m sorry, welcome to Radio Shack, how may I help you?” Jonathan rubs at the spot where his nametag pressed into his chest as he slept.\n\n“Do you sell radios?”\n\n“Uh,” says Jonathan, “yeah. They’re over there on the back shelf.”\n\n“No,” the customer says, leaning over the counter, face drawing near Jonathan, “radios. With the tubes.”\n\n“This is Radioshack,” Jonathan says. Old people are weird. It’s like that time that grandma came in looking for something to connect the show to her phone. That’s not a thing, grandma. That’s never been a thing.\n\n“Yes. Do you have radios with the tubes?”\n\nThe customer’s hands curl into fists, the wrinkles on his skin stretch out and Jonathan can see where the still-smooth patches are on the back of his hands.\n\n“We don’t,” Jonathan says, “we don’t have them here. You might want to try an antique store or something.”\n\n“I’ve tried them,” the customer says, voice raising and cracking, “I’ve tried them, and tried them, and tried them, but they’re all wrong. They’re not the same. They don’t look the same.” The customer’s hands tremble, he begins to sway, head drooping towards the countertop and Jonathan starts reaching for the mace that he knows Stacy from the afternoon shift keeps under the notebooks in case of creeps.\n\n“Tried, sir?” Gotta get him to focus on something else. Gotta have the element of surprise. Gotta get 'em when they're not expecting it.\n\n“I’ve tried everything. They’re not the same. It doesn’t work. I can’t find one, I’ve been looking, you don’t know how long I’ve been looking. I just need it to work. Someone. Anyone. Anything.”\n\nThe customer slowly raises his head, looks Jonathan in the eye, then lunges forward to grab him by the collar of his red polo shirt.\n\nAs Jonathan sprays mace into his face, the old man with the terrified eyes whispers, “Kill me.”\n\n“Please.”", "'Now for an exclusive look, we will actually enter the lair of the Cereal Killer. It is in this very living room that authorities suspect the crime was committed. Look at this dining table right here, this was where the victims would have had their final meals.\n\nNow, here in this store room was where the bodies were found. A burglar broke in three months back only to find eight bodies, all vacuumed sealed. The bodies belonged to his closest family and friends. Each victim was killed differently. Some were choked to death and others were stuffed till their stomach burst from the inside. But the one common denominator was the use of cereal.\n\nNow as we enter the bedroom, get a good look of the wall. 'Was it the cereal?' This is how our killer, Beff Long, got the title of the Cereal Killer. These enigmatic words painted in red, is the only clue we have before he disappeared. This obviously reflects an unstable mind and he is still at large so we recommend...'\n\n*\n\nWas it the cereal? No, it couldn't have been something so simple. But that was the only thing new in my life that day. The cereal was a different brand sure but there must be thousands of others eating the same damn cereal. Well, I did choke on the cereal. Everyone was out and I blacked out for a while. Maybe it was the blacking out. But I'm sure Jessie and Judy would disagree, it did nothing for them.\n\n'You look stressed,' said Nic.\n\n'I just can't figure it out. It must have been the cereal.'\n\n'With enough time, nothing matters really. And honestly, no one here ever figured out either,' Nic said as he pushed through the double doors.\n\nTrue. Anyway, I no longer have anyone I'd want to live forever with. I've exhausted all my options. \n\nI walked into the room and introduced myself. 'I am Beff Long, and I am an Immortal.'\n\nEveryone in the circle clapped. \n\n----\nMore mind farts at seeyounextdoomsday.wordpress.com", "When he discovered he couldn't die, he tried to imagine his wife aging. He thought he would be sad and lonely without her. He had imagined the histrionics, the keenly pained looks they would exchange, tears dripping off their faces to mingle on crisp white bedsheets. In reality he grew more and more disgusted with her.\n\nHe sincerely tried not to be grossed out by her papery skin. He tried to sit with her in their rocking chairs on the porch, but couldn't find anything new about the horizon to discuss after a couple decades. Her mind started to go, eventually, and all their shared history seemed to mean nothing, and soon all he could think about was how godawful boring it was to watch someone else age, even someone you had loved for so long.\n\nWhen her eyes finally closed forever, he was relieved. He was tired of pretending to be her grandson, and then her great-grandson. Glad to leave the town they'd settled in, where the old women admired him for his devotion before they succumbed to the same fate; all the while he had to see the young people all around him come into bloom, and not touch them. Now he was free to start over.\n\nIn his new life, he watched an endless supply of young women's perfect bodies bloom into womanhood. They really are like flowers, he thought: their bodies were like plants whose entire life cycles were filmed and then sped up for his viewing. They grew and grew, their faces turned to the sun, and soon they erupted with life, pregnant with babies, possibilities. The seeds of life inside them were expelled and new flowers bloomed as they withered. Watching that process fascinated him, for a time. He fucked them, too, and for a time there was joy in that.\n\nBut soon enough he wanted a companion. He watched a girl mature and then insinuated himself into her life. He liked her quite a bit, and he confided in her, and she married him with her eyes wide open. He had chosen a hearty mate this time, and they cavorted together for well over fifty years. He was kinder to her, in his mind, and forgave her slowing joints and the flab that eventually settled on her formerly taut body. Her mind and eyes were clear, and he cherished her as her body began to fail. But she eventually left him, too. She knew about his first wife, and the obligation he had felt to her, and she asked him to end her life. She would not fade away in the night like his first wife had - but he thought he would never forget the fear in her eyes, how she wrestled with it, as he held the gun under her chin.\n\nAfter he buried her, he didn't know what to do. This period of his life he devoted to exploration. First he saw everything he hadn't seen yet: the poles, the jungle, peaks, caves, catacombs. He spent a few miserable years stuck in a claustrophobic hole in the ground, until he was finally found by a few curious spelunkers. They helped him out, but he had to kill them to keep his secret. Those deaths left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, and he decided not to kill again. It was then that he stopped eating. \n\nThen for a time he became obsessed with leaving Earth, but it was a futile effort unless he wanted to build his own ship, which was a complicated craft that he didn't have the patience for. He considered surrendering to some government or other, thinking that it might be nice to be understood, but he knew they would have questions he couldn't answer. He did not often feel pain, but he thought if anyone could hurt him, it would be a bureaucrat. And anyway, his favorite government soon toppled, and lawlessness governed his homeland.\n\nHe founded something like a commune, and came to think of the orphans who trickled into his care as something closer to pets than fellow people. He didn't hide his affliction from them, and they called him a god. Men and women infiltrated his borders and tried to slit his throat, and he laughed at the tickling of the knives. Once an enemy of his, whose name he would forget, bombed what he was fondly calling the Farm. The immortal man walked into his enemy's camp and killed them all, and this time he felt satisfied.\n\nHe rebuilt the Farm with a more martial eye, and built an army. He expanded his territory by walking toward his enemies and dispatching them in whatever manner was available to him, only running into trouble when they restrained him, or if they managed to hole up where he couldn't get to them. His army followed behind, and he allowed them to do whatever they liked. Eventually he met a force that he couldn't overpower easily, and instead of leading his army into battle, he simply left. He heard later that most everyone died.\n\nHe simply walked now. Planes and cars had fallen into disuse, and he disdained bicycles, preferring to move as slowly as possible. He sometimes met people, but didn't want their company. He made a movement suggesting he'd kill them, and they mostly chose to flee.\n\nSoon he came to the ocean. It was a lazy river to him, and he floated along the currents, leisurely, alone. He met no boats. When he finally ran aground on a new continent, he couldn't find a soul. He wondered what had happened to his race, and went days and then months without setting eyes on another person. Eventually he grew frantic, and his dreamlessness felt like a new sort of madness. He began to see the people he had killed everywhere. His wives, the jolly explorers, his enemies, his armies of innocents. They looked back at him with accusing eyes, weeping eyes, with anger and sometimes forgiveness. He felt the most human he had ever felt.\n\nFinally, as he paced the equator, he found a little village of sickly humans. He called himself god, but couldn't speak to them. He didn't know their language and desperately tried to pick it up – every day his heart pounded: he was afraid they were the last humans, and that they would die before he spoke to them. The men feared him and held their wives close. He didn't realize how he looked to them, with his tall thick body, born in a nutritious age. Only the children would have anything to do with him, and he learned their high-pitched tones and played with them, and felt happy again for a short while.\n\nBut they were dying: poisoned, injured, deformed. The women tried to flower but their babies were too often born dead, and as often as not a man buried two thin bodies, with a little tiny baby nestled in the crook of the mother's still arm. It seemed that this would be humanity's final resting place. Sometimes at night he thought about his second wife, and he imagined pulling the trigger on this throat and burying these last humans, but when he saw the sun rise he forgot the bloody past and couldn't see life without them. He imagined the histrionics, his pain, living without them. He imagined burying them, and watching the sun set without them.\n\nThe last human was a little girl. After he buried the girl's father, she sickened, and he beat his chest and bashed his head against the wall of the mud hut, trying to remember how it had happened, what had changed, what was allowing him to survive them. He tore at his hair when she closed her eyes, and he wept when he returned to her, to listen to her ragged breathing. He held her close, trying to will his life into her lungs. He would die for her, if he could. He closed his eyes to the sunrise one more time, and he counted their breaths. He was grateful for every one of them." ]	[ 1, 2, 4, 7, 14, 112 ]	[ "1438927019", "1438909856", "1438886081", "1438885943", "1438862070", "1438877002" ]
	[WP] Make the reader feel sympathy for an object or person you wouldn't normally feel anything for	21	[ "Nobody thinks twice about dish washing sponges. We press them into our leftover filth and expect them to remove our messes. No one shows any emotion to the poor sponge as we rub dish washing liquid all over it and repeatedly ram and squeeze the fluid coated sponge against uncomfortable surfaces just so they sparkle. \n\nWhat do we do when the sponge loses its luster? After it has had enough of us grating, grinding and squishing them. It tries to hang tough, to please its masters by beating themselves up to remove grime. All for what? Its redundancy package is to be tossed in the bin with the crap it has been cleaning all of its life!\n\nI bet if we swapped shoes with our dutiful sponge, we would commit suicide in a few days!", "I am attached with a weird rope that goes through a wall. I live on top of a brown platform, it is really cozy. If I get furious or if someone pushes my button, I light up with anger. I am always getting shocked and when I get shocked I also light up with anger. If I knew how to speak I would probably tell the humans I don’t need to be on all the time. You see if my bulb burns, I pretty much die, a new bulb takes over my body and I am tossed out. I am just a lamp waiting for the day my light goes out.", "Many people are excited when buying it. It's like a new start or a fresh adventure. I remember when I moved into my new apartment and I saw the awful wallpaper (all white with red roses), I knew it couldn't stay that way. So I was excited about making this place mine by giving it my own look and atmosphere. So I covered the floor and put on my dirtiest clothes and made this place resemble me.\n\nI remember when I was young and I got it as a gift for Christmas. I couldn't wait to get started, so my mother gave me some paper and I put on so much that in the end it was all just grey. But that didn't matter because every new paper was a new start of a new adventure that often ended in grey but that didn't mean that the process wasn't interesting.\n\nOnce with friends we bought these really big cheap tubes and sprayed it around on each other while wrestling. We laughed the entire time and even though the result was grass in all colours. It's a good memory of silly times and friendship.\n\nIt always starts of excitement for colour and result only limited by imagination and maybe some skill. It's youth, it's play, it's possibility and joy that is until you stop. Once you stop all the possibility goes away, it crystallises into it's final form never to be able to change again. It stays just the way you leave it. From there it's mature, it's no longer joy, it's no longer fun and excitement. It becomes a decoration or a message open for interpretation, but almost always serious business. \n\nIt reminds me of us,as a baby so full of potential and joy, shaped by the people around us until we reach a mature form. Potential somehow becomes realisation and excitement become seriousness. The best you can hope for is to be a piece of art that shows what fun you had.", "When I have become whole,\n\nWrapped up inside this film roll,\n\nWhen everything I know transforms, truth be told,\n\nI search for moments passed, new and old,\n\nThrough the years this story unfolds,\n\nStaring longingly, isolated and cold,\n\nI have held it so close, never would I let go,\n\nThis final memory,\n\nThis stop motion roll,\n\nTaking all the pictures in the east,\n\nNow I look to the west,\n\nMy broken lens turns the blues to golds.", "My throat stings as I cough up the harsh shot. I could take a dozen of these back in College and not flinch, but here I am, the earth ready to come down around me and soldiers about to break down my door. At least, not for a few more hours.\nMy wife, my hostage, played along so well. Always wrapped up in my mystery and plotting. I only knew her for a few short years, but she did everything right. Right up until I murdered her too. At least the drink took hold of her quickly. I wanted to tell her the truth. It kills me to have tricked her with the toast... But it had to be done just right.\n\nThe clock hands tick by as I wait for my queue. I pray that the billion lives I will save out ways the sins of the millions I snuffed out. I suppose it must have worked because I didn't get a pink slip. I can rest well knowing I did my job. I have a meaning. \n\nStaring at a clock makes time go by more slowly. I stroke my mustache as I wait. Stupid little thing. I've always hated mustaches. I smile knowing that in a few hours, it will burn away with the rest of the evidence of who I am. Burned by more damned people I tricked. If I could have one wish, it would be for the world to know me as the worlds best con man, but the 20th century needs a villain. A Lesser Evil. \n\nI'm proud to serve my country. It would just be nice if it wouldn't take three hundred years to be recognized for it. Oh well, The agency knows what they are doing and I lived a good life up till deployment. I was ready to go then, and I am ready to go now. \n\nClocks about ready to chime. Time to pull the trigger and end Adolf Hitler.", "my life, my heart, my home\n\nthe shining waves, the gentle foam\n\nI sing, I sing, of everything\n\nthat I won't have again. I bring\n\njust memories of endless seas\n\nof sandy shores and gentle breeze\n\naway from you is hell\n\nbut I am just a lonely shell" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 9 ]	[ "1438922729", "1438925900", "1438934313", "1438937885", "1438950000", "1438920582" ]
	[WP] Writing Prompt. You find yourself in your favorite video game as the protagonist. The only catch, you're you. None of the training, equipment or skills of that protagonist.	33	[ "I wake up in damp and dirty cell in what I can only describe as a medieval prison. As I stand, my head hits a rusty shackle hanging near me and I drop back down to the floor. Laughter sounds across the hall from me in an opposite cell, echoing off every wall in the building and back at me. \n\n\"Pale skin, snotty expression. You're a Breton! The masters of magicka, right?\" I tune out the next few words as I try to understand the first ones. A what and a who? I shake my head, thinking I must obviously be imagining it. I look down at my hands, but they still look the same, if a bit dirtier.\n\"...stuck-up harlot with cheap parlor tricks. Go ahead, try your magicka in here. Let's see you make those bars disappear. No? What's the matter? Not so powerful now, are you Breton?\" I stand up again, offended by a voice that I had easily recalled but didn't believe I was hearing. \n\n\"Is that Valen fucking Dreth? Breton?\" I murmured. I looked myself over. I suppose it was the easiest conclusion to come to, based on my appearance. My eyes scanned the room again, oddly pleased with what I as seeing. \"So, this would be Oblivion with amazing graphics. Well, real life graphics I guess.\" \n\n\"Hey, you hear that? The guards are coming...for you! He he he he he he.\" I backed away from the cell door and over to the table with the clay pots. Despite everything I was seeing, my heart was pounding. I knew Oblivion, and I loved it. My introduction to the Elder Scrolls. I already knew how this was going to play out. But, I didn't feel any different. I was still scrawny with no sword or armor training and I could barely see since I didn't have my glasses. Not even an ounce of magicka in my veins to make up for it! \n\nAnd then I saw him. My whole body shuddered. Uriel Septim VII, the Emperor of Tamriel. He and his entourage of Blades were approaching my cell at a hasty pace, ready to begin my tutorial that would ultimately end in the Emperor's demise. All I could think was, \"Fuck, Valen's right. I'm gonna die in here.\"", "It's cold and wet. A faint light shines through the ceiling. I don't know how long i have been in this cell, nor how i got here in the first place.\n\nI just am here.\n\nI feel like I am dead. I look dead. My skin is rotting away and my muscles are deteriorating.\n\nBut i can move. \n\nMy lungs still work and i can feel my heart pulsating just below the thin, rotting skin.\n\nWhat happened to me?\n\nI feel all my memories slowly slipping away from my mind. I recall being sick. Cursed. Needed a cure. Set out on a journey to find it.\n\nAs i try to cling to the memories of my loved ones, my family, as i see their faces and features slowly melt away from my mind, a shadow from above moves away from my sight. I notice a key on the cell floor.\n\nI feel conflicted. Haven't the motivation to even move. That key could be the exit from this cell. But I don't even care. I feel blissfull in here. It isn't so bad. No hunger, no thirst, no pain. Besides, who knows what dangers await me outside? No, it's too risky.\n\n...\n\nBut maybe there is an answer to all of this. And maybe that anwser is somewhere beyond these walls.\n\nI get up. And it feels like i used my legs for the first time in a thousand years.\nI grab the only thing in this cell that resembles a weapon. A broken sword. I pick up the key, i put it in the cell door lock and turn it.\n\nThe cell door unlocks.\n\nAs i roam through the wet and dark corridor, i see other beings. Is that what i look like?\n\nI try talking to them, but no answer. They seem completely hollow of all reason. Like they lost their humanity.\n\nAs i reach a small, open courtyard, i see a tiny bonfire in the center. It's not quite dead, as if it is waiting for someone or something to revive it once more. \n\nLike me. \n\nI approach the bonfire, and as i try to confort myself on the remaining flames, the bonfire is kindled and its flames rage anew, but soon calm down to a soothing and warming flame.\n\nI feel reinvigorated. For the first time in who knows how long, i feel hope and strength enter my soul and body. I now know, i feel what i must do.\n\nI have to get out of here. This place reeks of despair and regret.\n\nI rise, leaving the flames behind, and walk to a giant, ornate, wooden door. I push. It takes my entire strength and willpower, but the door finally opens, revealing a large, decaying cathedral. \n\nAs i approach the center of the hall, a giant, grotesque demon wielding what looks like a giant hammer jumps from the ceiling, slamming down into the ground in front of me, impeding my progress. It promptly swings its weapon down at me, and i barely roll away from the attack.\n\nWhat can i do against this monstrosity? Is this the end?\n\nIt cannot be like this. My journey has just begun. I will not allow it to end now. I regained composure, grasped firmly my broken weapon, and did the only thing i could do.\n\nI ran.\n\n\n\nEDIT: Fixing small grammatical errors and rephrasing of certain sentences.", "I found myself strapped to a seat in a small, brass room. I lifted my eyes from the black and white tiled floor. There was a heavy metal door with a window in front of me. To my left there was a lever. My curiosity always gets the best of me in these situations. Not that I'm on this sort of situation often or anything. I push the lever down. The entire room rumbled as I noticed water filling up outside of the window.\n\nI knew what was happening. I had seen this before. This must have happened after beating the odds in infinity. The room, or pod, descended down into the depths. Passing light, after light. I knew the horrors I was going to endure, but I didn't believe this could really be happening. I started to breakdown in my seat. I couldn't handle it. \"Would you kindly wake up, would you kindly wake up, would you kindly wake.\" I kept mutter to my self. The pod had finally stopped. My restraints popped off. I opened the door. I saw a giant, golden statue of a man looking down at me. Hanging from it a sign that boasted \"No gods or kings\".\n\nThw next room was nearly pitch black. I heard the loud, haunting howl and the sound of metal grinding along the ground. \"Splicers...\" I muttered. \"Would you kindly wake up. Would you kindly wake up.\"", "I woke up to the sounds of keys unlocking some distant door with a loud clank. Obviously the person had no intention to be discreet. I shift around in my bed dreading the humidity in my room, it makes me sweat like a pig. I groaned at the fact that my air-conditioner could be broken as I continued sweating bullets. I opened my eyes to see how late into the afternoon I was sleeping till today. Well, let's just say I got one hell of a rude awakening; I found myself inside a prison cell. \n\nI jolted to my feet and took a good look around. Lucid dreaming? Never experienced a single one before and am pretty sure I wasn't experiencing one now so how am I to make sense of this? The prison cell was disgustingly old fashioned. Made out of stone and the bars were badly rusted. The unacceptable excuse of a bed I was sleeping on a few moments ago was made out of animal fur and looked like a camping bed. A torch was lit and burning radiantly and I cursed it as it was the reason I am perspiring profusely. I didn't notice until I realized how prickly the clothes I was wearing were but they looked like rags some low-class citizen in the medieval age would be wearing. \n\nThe first thought that popped up in my mind was the episode of SpongeBob whereby they were having a medieval knight event and SpongeBob got time-jousted to the middle ages. But I didn't do any extreme sports that could send me flying. If anything, I was just a studious boy in Singapore trying to make my parents proud about my grades. I did indulge in some fun every night. I would always lie to my parents that I would be studying so that they wouldn't bother me, but I was secretly playing Skyrim on my computer. I enjoyed every second of that game. Living the life of a chosen one that had the luxury and freedom of travelling the world and experiencing everything it had to offer from dragon shouts, to giants pummeling you and even pickpocketing clothes off people. It always amused me how they didn't realize I just stripped their clothes off. I loved the game because I could do whatever I wanted. I recollected my thoughts. I had to make sense of the situation I was in. Questions flooded my head. Why am I in prison? Did my parents send me to prison? Did they find out I lied to them about studying? Did they delete my save files? I couldn't answer any of these questions. I walked to the prison bars to peek out and gather information about my surroundings. Everything looked ancient. Uneven stone walls, wooden tables and chairs and shields and swords displayed along the walls. There was a wooden door. It was obvious the room next door was brightly lit from the feet of the door. I heard the sound of the keys again. I was sure the wooden door was being unlocked. I stared at the door, waiting for someone to appear so that they ccould enlighten me about my situation. \n\nThe room I was in was dimly lit but it wasn't for long. As soon as the door flung open, the light from the other room poured in and blinded me. I covered my face and tried to shape out the human at the door. The silhouette looked extremely familiar and went through in my head the authorities that matched it. The person was now walking towards my cellar. As he walked closer, I could hear chains hitting each other and the sound of dangling keys. He was now in full view in front of my cell and as I removed my hands from my face, I felt my heart stop. My legs started to give way and I felt myself black out as I heard the Guard mutter, \"Someone really was going around stealing sweet rolls.”\n", "I throw up, for what feels like the 100th time. Doc Mitchell did a damn good job at patching me up, but he said I might still feel a little dizzy or nauseous. I guess the heat doesn't help either. The moment I stepped foot outside, I was blinded by the sun, and it felt like I'd entered a sauna. It's crazy how all the senses get sensitive when your body is injured. I take a few gulps of water before carrying on down the path.\n\nDoc had told me to look for a woman named Sunny Smiles to help teach me how to survive, but I don't see the point when I already feel like crap. What I really need is a place to get some sleep. Maybe if I feel better in a few days, I'll find Sunny and ask for her help.\n\nLooking around the place, I don't see a motel, or anywhere I can crash for a few hours. Through the dusty air, I can see a saloon, Prospector Saloon, and decide to head for that. Hopefully one of the locals will take pity on my poor, damaged self and give me a spare room. I enter the place, and see a woman arguing with some angry, aggressive guy. I briefly consider getting involved, but she seems capable of handling herself. Besides, that guy does not look friendly. So I walk on.\n\nI come across a room away from the drinking area and decide to enter it. Cool, lots of drinks. Well, I won't be staying in this town forever, and I am injured. No-one will mind if I take a few with me for the road. I grab as many as I can and shove them into my backpack. I find a few magazines and take those, too, when the light from the door is suddenly blocked. \n\n\"What the hell do you think you're doing?\" demands the voice, anger in every syllable.\n\nI turn around, my face scarlet with embarrassment...and see that a rifle is pointed directly at my chest. My heart stops. \"Oh god, please don't shoot me! I'm sorry!\"\n\nShe studies me for a moment, then grabs me and drags me out of the room. \"Alright, I won't shoot you. You have five seconds to get the hell out of my saloon, and five minutes to get the hell out of town. Starting now.\"\n\nShe's not joking. I sprint out of the door, the confused and indignant mutterings of the drinkers fading from earshot. My feet are pounding against the ground, my world is spinning, but I keep on running, desperate to get away before an angry mob forms to chase me away with bullets. \n\nI stop, gasping for breath, wheezing, with the most painful stitch in my side that I've ever experienced. I nervously look behind me, and see that the buildings are quite a way into the distance. Good, I should be safe to stop and rest for just a moment. I drain the last of my water and open one of the bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla that I stole, and drink half of the bottle. The taste is amazing, it's almost good enough to make me forget what a terrible day I've had. I sit on a rock and look out, trying to figure out where I should go next. Man, it would've been better if I'd never woken up from that coma. \n\nSuddenly I see something moving in the distance. Not a human, but it looks pretty big. It's a...gecko? A giant gecko. I laugh. It's running towards me, and it looks like it's laughing, too.", "\"Hello, Dami! Wake up!\"\n\nMy cheek nuzzles against a soft, fuzzy fabric resting on top of a hard surface. This is no mattress. It feels harder - like wood. No, definitely wood. Where's my bed? What's that voice I hear in the back of my head? It sounds familiar, but much softer than I what I remember... My eyes struggle to open, and my body struggles even more just to move, as if I had a severe lack of sleep the night before.\n\n\"The Great Deku Tree wants to talk to you! Dami, wake up!\"\n\nHow does she know my name? I muster up just enough strength in my body to get up slightly and turn my head.\n\nA giant ball of light shines in the corner of my eye. I am surrounded by wooden furniture in a circular room with only one door leading outside. My heart starts pounding. This is all too familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. *I know* this place. Before I can gather any more of my thoughts, the ball of light speaks again, my body still lying motionless on this foreign bedding.\n\n\"Hey! C'mon! Can Hyrule's destiny really depend on such a lazy boy?\"\n\nHyrule... Then it's true. This is the Legend of Zelda. Ocarina of Time.\n\nWhat the fuck am I doing here?!*\n\nMy mouth hangs open, not a word escaping it as I attempt to sit up straight in my bed. I stare blankly at this fairy, and I already know the gist of what she's going to tell me.\n\n\"You finally woke up! I'm -\"\n\nNavi...\n\n\"- Navi the fairy! The Great Deku Tree asked me to be your partner from now on! Nice to meet you!\"\n\nI still cannot control this urgent feeling growing inside my chest. My hands tremble on the bed as I subconsciously nod in return.\n\n\"N-Nice to meet you too...?\"\n\nShit, Link doesn't even talk in this game. Did I already fuck it up?\n\n\"The Great Deku Tree has summoned you! So let's get going, right now!\"\n\nAnd off she goes, hovering next to the front door, expecting me to take my first steps out into Kokiri Forest. To do what? Embark on an epic journey to save the land of Hyrule? I look down and notice that I'm even dressed in his clothing. Suddenly, the rest of my senses kick in and I am overwhelmed by the atmosphere. Outside, I can hear the chirpings of insects and even the chatter of children if I listen close enough. Inside, I can see every detail of Link's Treehouse. For a moment, I consider myself extremely lucky to have the opportunity to see Kokiri Forest and all of Hyrule in full definition! My eyes and ears light up for just that moment. Once I realize that Navi is still waiting for me, I am brought back to the reality that this is much more than a simple 'HD rendering' of the game. This is real. There is no happy music playing in the background, cheering me on. I don't have a health bar or an item menu. I don't even have a sword or shield yet! No wait, I get those later on... But still, most importantly...\n\nI am not* Link.\n\nI take a few deep breaths, acclimating myself to this new environment. If this really is the Legend of Zelda, then it will be pointless trying to find anything else out from any of the NPCs. Especially Navi. God, I really didn't think she talked like that all the time. But she's waiting for me. In fact... isn't all of Hyrule waiting for me? Shit. What the hell am I in for? As much as I'd love to see the rest of this world the way it is, if this is a dream, I'd much rather wake up. I shut my eyes tight for a moment and thin my lips in anticipation. I open them. Dread follows. And maybe a bit of excitement. Maybe. She's still waiting.\n\n\"C'mon Dami! He's not going to wait forever!\"\n\n\"Isn't he a tree?\"\n\n\"Well... just c'mon!\"\n\nI take my last deep breath and force myself upright. My footsteps make loud creaking noises underneath me as I make my way towards the front door. The sun greets my weary eyes as I take in the absolutely stunning view of the entire village. In the next few seconds, I see a girl with peculiar green hair running up to me, waving. Saria. Except... she looks like a real person. Is this really happening?\n\n\"Yahoo! Hi, Dami!\"\n\nMy body motions forward a bit more and I notice the ladder in front of me. A few flashbacks of the game swim through my head. Normally, as Link, I'd just jump off. Or for style points, backflip off. Who the hell takes the ladder going down anyways? But now... now I see things from an entirely new perspective. My own.\n\nAnd my perspective just happens to be afraid of heights.\n\nI uneasily fixate myself on the rickety wooden ladder and follow the rungs downward, trying not to look.\n\nIf Hyrule's destiny really depends on me...\n\n...Then this might take a while...\n\n* Part 2 coming up later, let me know if you want it. I've got a lot of time on my hands today." ]	[ 1, 1, 3, 6, 10, 19 ]	[ "1438948789", "1438973302", "1438934627", "1438930119", "1438931492", "1438932769" ]
	[WP] Centuries after World War III, humanity emerges from their underground vaults to find a species that can rival the human race	388	[ "The year is 2516, 500 years after the third war of the world. We are the last of the living on this planet, the ones left behind. It all started in 2015 when the UN came out to tell the world that our oil reserve is actually critically low. They were avoiding telling the world because they did not want wide spread panic. This was the beginning of the end. Many of the large countries were preparing for this many years ago and created a technology to leave this planet and move on. On the day we call judgment day the privileged left. We were the less fortunate ones. There was chaos and war for 20 years following the day all the privileged left the earth. On the 20th anniversary of judgment day there was a loud noise and a very bright light. Everyone expected the worst, that someone obtained nuclear weapons and was using them around the world. Our ancestors were the lucky ones, they were holding out in the shelter they found at the beginning of the war. The leaders of our group told us to never go outside for at least 400 years because of nuclear fallout. So we obeyed. After 400 years they sent out a group of explorers who have been training their entire life for the opportunity to go outside and experience the stories of earth that once existed. No one ever heard from them once they went out. Everyone assumed the fallout was still to strong and we would wait another 80 years. Now, here I am, my name is Pelly Mecha, I’m 17, and I am an explorer. \n\t\nI have been training my entire life for the opportunity to be able to go outside. I have heard many great stories of what it’s like to breathe fresh air and to see the sun. Tomorrow is the day I get to fulfill my destiny and create a safe passage for the rest of humanity. \n\t\nToday; however, I must say my goodbyes to everyone I care about. Hopefully I will see them again. I first started by going to see Mrs. Phillis in the food storage area. She spends most of her days calculating how many days of food we have left. This was a major concern and the main reason we are going out tomorrow. We only have enough food for about 4 months. I knew she would be in the back corner like she normally is, trying to figure out how to make it last longer. \n\nI walked up to her and said “Good morning Mrs. Phillis, How are you today.”\n\nShe responded “I am doing well dear, and how are you on this day?” \n\n“I am doing well, you seem awfully chipper today” I responded promptly\n\n“Well dear, It is a good day… tomorrow all of you explorers get to go out and bring us back the good news that we can find more food” she said so happily. \n\n“I will try my best Mrs. Phillis, I just wanted to say I will miss you and I hope to see you again sometime”\n\nMrs. Phillis stood up slowly as she always does because her joints are not the best from old age. She walked over to me and I to her and we hugged each other. “You will see me again dear, I believe in you” she said to me. A smile came upon my face bigger than any before. \n\nNext, I went to see my Mother and Father. They both were at our assigned unit as usual. Their place in our society was to be parents. They take the children that are born in the group and take care of them. I walked into the unit and instantly heard crying babies. I always hated the sound of crying babies. I go up to mother and waited patiently for her to realize I was there. A few moments passed and she turned around and was startled “OH MY PELLY! Don’t sneak up on people like that!” \n\n“Sorry mother.” I responded. \n\n“You better be, almost gave me a heart attack… then who would take care of all these children.” Mother said.\n\n“I just wanted to come by to say goodbye and that I will come back with good news.” I stated.\n\n“Good, you better come back.” She said angrily “we need you to succeed”\n\n“Yes mother.” I responded shortly. \n\nMother was never really nice; she always seemed bitter and angry at something. \n\nI didn’t see father around so I assumed he went somewhere with one of the older children.\n\nI walked around to the common places trying to find him… then I remembered the place he goes to be to himself. He only showed me it one time, but I will always remember it. It was the only place we could go to see the outside, and he was the only one to know about it besides me. I went up to him and said “Father.”\n\nHe looked behind him to see me standing there and said “Hello Pelly” \n\n“What’s on your mind?” I questioned. \n\n“I am scared Pelly” he said\n\n“There is no need to be scared father, I will be back and everything will be OK” \n\n“For the sake of the group I hope so Pelly”\n\nWe both knew that the survival of the humanity rested on the ability for me to find some good news.\n\nI sat next to him looking outside through the dust covered glass; all you could see was shapes of objects. \n\nWe sat there for a while just staring. \n\n“I will see you in a couple months” I said\n\n“Yes you will” he responded hopeful. \n\nI walked away as he stayed there staring. \n", "It had been over three hundred years since the last had gone M.A.D. Two hundred and fifty years ago the last nuclear sub went offline and disappeared into the Atlantic somewhere. After exhausting its payload it lowered its steel head down into the Prussian Blue abyss and slipped into something a little more comfortable.\n\nThis is more of an educated guess. No one can be sure of anything outside their nuclear families(To clarify, nuclear family has changed in connotation and denotation to something resembling more of a communal feel. Nuclear families are simply the collective unit that operates any number of the longterm fallout shelters that still operate or don't operate across the globe. This is according to one specific nuclear family who came up with the idea. As they haven't and can't communicate with anyone else on the globe, the question of whether or not anyone else uses this term is still hotly contested).\n\nSo many generations have come and gone in this subterranean rapture. So many historians have collected their uneventful tales in this sunken city. I am the last of the raconteurs. A friend, or more an acquaintance, is our generations head Curie. They are the keepers of the Geiger Counter and hold the Holy Half-Life Hardback. It is a dusty old volume whose yellowed pages have become our devotional. Generations have followed its commandments and remained inside the particular safety of these lead blast doors. \n\nApparently, tomorrow is the day the blast doors can be opened. All the transitionary glasses have been disbursed and all the clean suits have been sterilized and adjusted for a tight fit. I have been shown pictures of a cloud, of the moon and stars, and of The Great Redeemer in a place called Brazil. Something in my skin tells me that despite these digital likenesses, I know nothing of these things. Something in my increasing pulse tells me that the sun will burn my skin like steam and that the air will strangle my lungs like a vice. I am still excited.\n\n-\n\nThe doors opened and the scouts headed out into the infinite. An eternity passed before they returned with their report. The air was clean, the sun still shone and a local fresh water supply was safe to drink. I ventured outside and gazed in awe at the sun. This glorious ball of gas floating in the sky like a fluorescent dream. Its light so pure and warm. I stripped out of my clean suit and bask in it's yellow glow. I raised my arms and my feet danced in arms shadows. I looked up to gaze into the distance when I noticed a strange creature looking at me from the shadow of a tall rock face. \n\nThis creature walked on two feet and had a similar facial construction to humans. It's body was oddly elliptical, however, and strangely proportioned. I thought I had begun to grasp it's otherworldly beauty when it turned and expressed it's profile in a moment I will never forget. Sticking abruptly from its rounded back was a powerful human shaped butt, but no wasn't that all. Towering from inside the folds of the butt cheeks was a penis and balls. I quickly drew a crude sketch and ran back to the vault. We sounded the alarms and quickly retreated into our underground home. We took turns studying the picture and all came to the same unsettling conclusion. This was an enemy we neither knew nor understood. The only thing we did know was that fighting was futile and beyond our capabilities. \n\nIt was that day we resealed the vault and I realized that I was not the last historian. There would be many more and they would tell my story and share this picture with our nuclear family. Each generation would peak into the above to see if they still roamed. If they roamed we would remain in our hole in the ground, finding solace in the fact that our race still existed.\n\n", "It was a nice and calm evening in the foothills of Kentucky when Andrew heard an odd sound coming from the woods ahead of him. He knew from his parents that he shouldn't go into the woods, it was forbidden, there were demons in those woods. Andrew ran back to the his parents transport, quietly and swiftly. His parent Janice and Jeff were researchers in the ExpoReas caste, and were doing an archeological survey of an area they called Mammoth.\n\"Dad, I heard something weird in the woods a few kilometers back.\" Andrew said, slightly out of breath from his run.\n\"Glad you came to us son, get on board and, contact your mother, I am heading to the bridge to call in the ProtRec's.\"\nJeff leapt to action, he knew what was coming, he was briefed before he left. \nJanice careened into the transport as fast as she could and scurried to the weapons locker. Janice had been in the ProtRec caste for years before she met Jeff. She fell in love with him and the both left there castes they chose as adolescents and went into the research. She was trained for action, an expert in Claw Kata and weaponry. She grabbed a rifle slung on her back and a pulse pistol from the charging station. Andrew was in his quarters, his parents let him know only what was needed, something dangerous was in those woods, what they were capable of was not fully known, but what they had seen they could do was enough to be prepared for the worst.\n\nAndrew looked at his view screen as he controlled a drone to record the events taking place. His parents had given him charge of recording findings and documenting there work. He was eager to join the EntServ caste on his placement day when he turned 16. Andrew curiously hovered his craft above the entry of the transport as the ProRec squads S.R.F. pods landed.\n\n\"Greetings, I am Jeff Trimble, ExpoReas Archeologist, my wife Janice is a former ProRec sentry and will assist you in the recon of the area. My sons drone is over head recording and relaying back to the EntServ data review station.\" Jeff waited by the ship in a patch of warm midday sun, keeping an ear out toward the woods, and and ear back towards there ship, where Andrew was safe, for now.\n\nThe squad prowled through the woods silently and quickly. An old green metalic sign, in a language not taught to everyone, hung tattered from a single nail to a perforated metal pole, Janice said quietly to the team, \"It says, Mammoth Cave Entrance 1/4 miles, that's about half a kilometer to the entrance, that's where we will find them.\" The team readied there weapons and leapt down the trail with vigor, a new prey they had yet to hunt was invigorating.\n\nIn the data room of the ServEnt building on the other side of the planet, on an island chain in the south Pacific, Provost Hagermann gazed at Andrews drone feed. A video tech glanced up at him.\n\"What are they hunting sir?\"\n\"They are hunting a dangerous prey young man, not many are privileged to know, we have kept this hidden for many generations, and events like this occurred seldom in the past but we expect with coming frequency now.\"\n\"What events sir?\"\n\"Exits, we call them, hundreds of years ago a war happened, these things aren't told as our society has grown from these wars, but there are those still locked away from the war, that devastated the surface. We reclaimed it, learned, adapted, and have our society now. This prey we are hunting now are a dangerous species that we are still learning about, hence the ExpoReas team there now.\"\n\nAndrew watched his console with bated breathe as the squad of ProRec soldiers crept upon a massive cave opening. A shadow lurched in the woods he alerted his mother via the com,\n\"Mom to your right in the woods, I saw a figure!\"\nJust then a loud sound rung, a few more, he saw on his view screen the flash of some sort of explosive device and projectile weaponry being fired. The ProRec engery barriers prevented them from even the slightest nudge from the oncoming barrage. They opened fire, just a few short bursts of pulse rifles and the enemy stopped. He heard a few yelps and screams from the prey, and a language his parents taught him, he heard them scream,\n\"Fuckin giant cats with shields and lasers, get back to the vault!\"\nGiant cats? What were these weird creatures he saw on his monitor?\n\nThe provost watches the reaction on the video techs face as he saw the humans attempt at attacking our ProRec squad. He laughed to himself, and almost purred with excitement, he enjoyed seeing young ones learn and have questions ready to ask. He waiting for the tech to turn and then answered him before he could ask.\n\"That is what we looked like several centuries ago, many generations before you were born a war, the one I spoke of, destroyed this world. Almost all life was wiped out. Our ancestors here on these islands were some of the few left above ground. Most of them hid in bunkers and vaults carved deep and made to outlast the radiation from there bombs. Our predecessors adapted, taking genes and traits from surviving animals and incorporating them into our own genome. We weren't always like this we once looked like those small, hairless, tailless apes. We won't allow them to ruin this planet again though, they can stay in there vaults or die. It has been decided.\"", "EDIT::::\n\n\nColony 10 is buzzing with excitement. \n\nThe rush of activity is almost unbearable, hundreds of bodies racing rapidly in all different directions, carrying packs, supplies, platters of food that are being passed around. I'm doing my best to stay out of the way, back against the wall as I lace up my boots, but still, someone careens into my side.\n \n\"Sorry!\" exclaims the clumsy idiot. I grumble in annoyance but it quickly fades when I look up to that familiar face. \n\n\"Jordy?\"\n\nThere's a flare of recognition and my guess is rewarded with a beaming smile. \n\n\"Kal! Long time no fucking see!\"\n\nI stand up straight. Long time indeed.\n\n I remembered a gangly boy years ago in the conditioning sessions who excelled in math but was miserable at ballistics. With a tendency of foul language and childish pranks, we had never been friends. It took me years to even realize he had been transferred after conditioning. \n\n\"You look well.\" I say, truthfully. He's different now, if not for that familiar wide grin and tall, lean frame, I wouldn't have even recognized him. I suppose ten years have been passed. \n\nHe readjusts the strap of the large pack on his shoulder, his torso tilted to indicate its heaviness. \n\n\"And you still look like a fucking 12 year old. What are they feeding you guys in this Colony? Air?\" \n\n\"And sometimes water.\" I reply and Jordy laughs loud. \n\n\"Still sullen and snarky I see. Should've known that you'd be picked for this mission.\"\n\nI couldn't say the same for him. Colony 10 was a weaponry's population. If Jordy had been transferred to another Colony, he would have learned a different trade. \n\n\"I'll be working with Commander's Richard's team yes.\" I say and my eyes flit to the large stone alcove on the left, where long tables are set up covered in supplies, where hordes of people are packing what they need. \n\nA large, beefy man in a red beret is barking out orders, holding a rifle in the air and waving it around like a flag. The shout of, \"Hurry the fuck up twats!\" reaches our ears and echoes in the vault. \n\nJordy whistles. \"I don't know whether to say congratulations or sorry. He's infamous on Colony four. Evil tempered hard ass.\"\n\nThat sounds about right. \n\nHe continues. \"I'm one of the Bioinvestigators for the mission. While your lot are hooping and hollering being dicks and shooting Snatchers for points, my team will be snatching one of them.\"\n\nThe look of disbelieving shock must have been written all over my face because Jordy laughs again and turns to walk away. \n\n\"Don't worry Kal.\" he calls over his shoulder. \"I won't ask you to call me \"Boss\"!\" I then proceed to watch him approach my gun wielding Commander like they are old friends. \n\nMy face is impassive but I can't stop my teeth gnashing in my mouth. Top of my class for seven years, voted best sharpshooter in the Colony, and the jokester from childhood now outranked me?\n\nI know it seems like I'm stomping away like a petulant child to anyone who is watching but I can't bring myself to care. I was always stared at like a child, even when I could create a star in the bullseye of a target, with a crossbow. \n\nSmall stature with big round black eyes and a pale complexion didn't pose a very intimidating figure, like Commander Richards, or dare I even admit it now, Jordy.\n\n Being a female was tough enough on Colony 10. We have to be just as good or even better than the male trainees. Most of the females in conditioning lessons had long ago since transferred, but some, like me, were allowed to stay. My training was almost completed, and after this mission, I knew I would become a Hunter. \n\nI grab one of the packs piled up against a wall near the long tables. They're standard, tactical black canvas, with lots of extra pockets and a camel bag installed. \n\nI get in line for the tables, staying as far away from Jordy as possible who I can see has set down his own large pack and is showing some sort of electronic pad to the Commander, whose gruff face is looking impressed. My teeth grind again. \n\nI pack as I always do. Two switchblades were essential, one in the pack, the other tucked into a harness strapped to my boot. Same with the flashlights. One in the pack, the other on my other boot. Protein bars, sanitization, first aid kit, fishing line, Uv flares, are all neatly tucked in a multitude of pockets, leaving the main compartment for the most important part of the pack. Weapons. \n\nMy Arcadia Automagnum is already on my holster, it never leaves my side. I pack extra clips for it, but save the rest for space for the magical bullets that went with The Baby. \n\nThat's what it was called. There was only one, and I the only one with the right to use it. It was a model of the old M24, but had been perfected and modified for years. Snatcher's, like old folklore about vampires or werewolves, didn't care for silver very much. Normal bullets would work just fine, but it took a lot of them to take down one Snatcher. but a well placed silver shot did something to their composition, and they drop like flies. \n\nThere were only two types of guns that the costly projectiles were made for. \n\nThe Blasters, aptly titled, the team of front line bastards with shoulder propped shotguns. I had shot one once during training, and had slammed back into the wall with a cracked clavicle and a broken shoulder. The other was for The Baby. \n\nIt's waiting for me on a table and I notice a few new pieces beside it. Some new scopes, one infared which I immediately grab, replacement pistons and even a new mount. Someone out there loves me. I smile and deftly assemble it, pack the rest of my backpack and haul it onto my back. \n\nI'm ready. \n\nApparently so is everybody else, because the horn blares and the hum of electricity gets unbearably loud, but not loud enough to cover the deep, screeching sound that still every time, makes everyone's heart drop to their stomachs. The sound of the Vault door opening. \n\nContrary to the loud shouts and bustle earlier, it is eerily quiet, it's time for business. \n\nI swing The Baby over my shoulder and quickly fall in line. The reconnaissance team is 60 strong, a much larger number than previous operations, when mission goals were just to ward off the Snatchers from the land directly above all the Colonies, buried like a giant honeycomb miles below the earth. Colony 10 is one of the closest to the surface, and past the Vault door just a half mile up is land. Earth. \n\nThis mission is more important than all the rest. \n\nThis time, we have to catch one. \n\nAnd that's where Jordy comes in. I think and glance over. His team of Bioinvestigators consist of Jordy, another man and one woman, standing out in odd shiny black suits, made from a material I can't recognize. It's unlike silvery grey bodysuits of Colony 10, the color which made it easy to camouflage during dusk hours, the best time to fight Snatchers. Their vision was poorer at night, but it was during these hours they seemed to get stronger. The few hours before darkness were utterly precious. \n\nCommander Richards is near the front, but I can hear him clearly. \n\n\"You know the drill people! Zones 3 and 4 only! It's nesting season, so there's going to be alot of them out there today. We're going to destroy as many of them sons a bitches while they're grouped together. The Explosives Team have already set up their shit. Shit’s fresh, only two days ago, so unless you want to be in a million pieces, I suggest you stay in the designated zones! Kal!\"\n\nI know it looks like a sniper rifle is shuffling on its own through the crowd as I make my way up to Commander Richards. He looks down his long nose at me. \n\n\"You're important today too Kal. I'm placing you and Jackson with the scientists on reassurance duty. You'll be going in after an area has been cleared and you will make sure no Snatcher gets close while the doctors do their-\" he shoots the team a look \"work.\" They'll need help with the body, so I want you to follow their instructions to the tee. The timing of this is crucial.\"\n\n\"Yessir.\" I reply.\n \nNow it's my time to shoot Jordy a glare, though he's not paying attention to me. He's fiddling with that electronic device again, that beeping and whirring like an old fashioned video game. \n\nCommander Richards said \"reassurance duty\". That's just a fancy term for guard dog. Jackson, who is standing closeby, unlike me looks like the Commander just promoted him to Master of the Vault. Also unlike me, Jackson is already a Hunter.\n\nI know I should be honored to work alongside him, and for such an important task, but I hate Jackson. Everyone hates Jackson. He's a pompous blowhard who just happens to be the wizard of automatic weapons with the eyes of a hawk. If I didn't have a mental hard on for him, I'd punch his face in. \n\nThere's a loud rumble. \n\nThe Vault door has completely opened. \n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n \n\n\n", "The Andes, the Alps, the Himalayas, and the Rockies were hollowed out and colonized. It had started as news spread to the rest of the world that the United States had begun constructing a vast underground network under the Rockies, in a bid to protect its peoples from impending nuclear fallout.\n\nThey called it the Warm War. It started off cold enough, as the proliferation of nukes couldn't be contained. Pakistan kept stockpiling.\n\nNo one thought anything would actually happen. But it did, and India disappeared over night. After that, well, humanity began to annihilate itself.\n\nThat was four hundred and thirty two years ago. We jokingly call this the Worm Age. Nuclear fall out soaked the planet, and there were pockets that had become permanent radiation zones. \n\nEighty years ago humans started to emerge. We were stooped, pale, with eyes that were sensitive to the sunlight we yearned for. \n\nIt was still too dangerous to begin rebuilding. But there were promising signs that the fallout was ebbing and expeditions were sent out with increasing frequency. \n\nNai and his party left The Rockies on June 3rd, 2643. They were veterans, moving swiftly and efficiently down the slopes and into a planetary surface void of humans. \n\n\"How long have they been gone for?\" Commander Vie asked.\n\n\"Too long,\" came Hind's response. \n\nCommander Vie peered through the stations high-powered binoculars, scanning the tree line two miles out. \"When did you lose contact?\" \n\n\"Seventeen days ago.\"\n\nThe treeline had been cut back here by the first expeditions. Central Council had requested that all possible precautions take place. There were over 10 million people living out their lives inside the mountain range. They could be the last vestiges of humanity.\n\nCommander Vie frowned, deciding to stop the fruitless scanning. Just as he began to turn away he spotted something flashing between the tall pines. He watched in growing horror as Nai stumbled out between two trunks, raised a hand, and collapsed.\n\nThat's when they heard the screams. Screams that were impossibly loud echoing through the valley. \n\nCommander Vie turned to Hind. \"Seal the gates.\"", "When the great war ended, and the radiation had subsided, my ancestors emerged into a world that had long forgotten them. \n\nI never knew that world. But one night I got a peak at it. I met the last of the monsters my ancestors took the world back from.\n\nMy grandfather used to tell us ghost stories around the campfire on his old farm. He told my cousins and I a number of silly stories about scary things when we’d come over. It was my way of getting to go to camp. Every year my cousins and I would go to grandpa’s farm and sit around that stone circle with a large fire popping and crackling away in the moonlight.\nGrandpa thought it was important to tell us these things and get us into nature. He said it “thickened our blood and made men of us.” But alas all good things must come to an end. Camping at grandpas ended in a way I’ll never forget. \nThere were five of us. Me, Sheldon, my cousins Marty and Matt, and their sisters Sarah and Heather, respectively. My mom had brought us there from a few counties over. She dropped us off with grandpa on a Saturday evening. \nI noticed immediately that Grandpa was different from the last time I had saw him. He didn’t seem to look at us so much as through us…he just gazed, sometimes forgetting to blink and sort of coming to as if he had been asleep with his eyes open.\nMy mom asked him “Dad are you OK? Do you want me to get you something? A glass of water? A sandwich? You look kind of pale.” \nGrandpa shook his head like he was shaking the sleep off. “OH uhm….no Virginia, thanks. Just ate. Boy me and you kids are gonna have a good time this week! Go on Virginia, I’ll be fine, just didn’t get enough sleep is all. “\n“Well alright. “ She said. “You kids have fun! And call me if you need anything dad. I love you.”\n\n“I love you too sweetie…more than you know. “ Grandpa said as she headed out.\n\nHe then turned to us and said in a tone that sort of alarmed us “we need to build a fire now.”\nWe followed grandpa out to the back field and played and laughed as we gathered firewood. This is how we always performed this ritual. We made it tradition. We would sword fight with the wood all the way to the stone circle. Then we’d throw it on. We got a kick out of it and Grandpa got his yard cleaned up. Soon we all sat down around the fire and the usual chatter set in. But grandpa wasn’t participating. Soon he had no choice.\n“Grandpa grandpa, tell us a scary story!” Sarah said excitedly. \n“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah grandpa!” We all sort of yelled in a garble. \n“Oh uh…alright…grandpa will tell you a story. This isn’t a ghost story though kids uhh….everyone listen up.”\nWe huddled together anxiously. This sounded good. He began.\n“You’re all too young for this. I know you are. But for the good of you I have to tell you. You have to be ready.” Grandpa said in a nervous tone.\nThis wasn’t the way things usually went. Grandpa was acting very serious. He usually told these stories in a very played up manner, he was very active and descriptive. Tonight however, he was quiet and reserved.\n“I wanted you to never come out here, never to have to do this. The Galrot would not let me. It has ways of persuading you. It threatened to hunt you down one by one if I did not bring you out here, as I always do. You must understand this was our only chance. It was chance this stand against him or certainly lose you all.”\nHe did not laugh. He did not quip or joke. We were not laughing. It was clear to us now that grandpa was very serious and that this was not like the other camping trips.\n“The Galrot is a beast with a mighty neck. It has a head as big as a truck and a body like a tank. It has a face like a crazed wolf, its eyes…its eyes can drive a man mad. It has a thick layer of armored spikes that cover its back and side. It has razor sharp studs on its tongue which can wrap around a man and kill him without taking the first bite. The only place to come at it is from underneath, only it never raises up. The Galrot is smart, smarter than you think. And he is deathly fast. He can crush you with just his weight. It is older than time. More than anything the Galrot craves to hunt a child. This is why he brought you here. “\n“Grandpa you’re just telling a story aren’t you?” Little Matthew asked, his eyes now watering, ready to cry. \n“I wish I was little Matty. I wish I was. \nMatt burst into tears. Grandpa continued.\n“ The Galrot has taunted me for years. As soon as I think it has moved on it will destroy my herd or I will hear about a death in town. Always the same. A vicious mauling. You see our family has been fighting his kind for centuries. Our ancestors were hunters of the malevolent beings. They slew the Galrot, wiped them out to extinction. The Galrot however were far more intelligent than we had imagined. This one has managed to haunt our family for ages. Rather than pass on the trade to my children I vowed to rid the world of this one once and for all. We have wounded each other time and time again. I never can manage to get a kill strike. Tonight has to be the night though. “\nGrandpa then reached down to the chest he had been sitting on. I think we all noticed it being a new addition to the scenery, but no one had really thought anything of it. He pulled out old chainmail armor. It had our family crest emblazoned on the chest. We had this same crest above our fire place at home. Mom had put it there. I was very frightened. He pulled out more armor and began handing it to us. He then said very matter of factly,\n“We need to make spears now.”\nEveryone put on their armor and grandpa handed out long poles and gave us all swords of varying lengths from the chest. Matthew was only 9 years old and his armor dragged the ground behind him. He was sobbing as he tried to sharpen the pole grandpa had given him. Grandpa looked at me and said “That’s good. I won’t be able to guard you all. Since you’re the oldest you should look after Little Matthew.”\nEveryone was scared to death. We barely knew what was going on. I’m sure some thought that we were just playing along with grandpa and this was all a big joke. All of these notions were cast aside when we hear the howl.\nIt sounded like the scream of a woman combined with the ungodly bellow of a pack of hounds. We saw those reflective eyes peering at us through the treeline, only for an instant, and then they went black. We saw nothing after that. Grandpa took command.\n“BACK TO BACK! Everyone put your backs against one another. Swords out, spears up, do not strike unless you have a clean shot. He will try to trick you, he will try to fool you into falling so that he may devour you. He will try and pick you off one by one. He wants a hunt! He wants a hunt more than anything, but we won’t give it to him. If he wants our meat he will have to pry it from out of our armor and from our swords. WE WILL NOT SUBSIDE DEMON BEAST!”\nFrom the woods we faintly heard the beast snarl back “You are….mistaken old man.”\nThis was no ordinary creature of the forest. It could speak, and malevolently so. It was horrifyingly fast and cunning. We were more afraid now than ever. Suddenly we heard it. \nKathump kathump kathump kathump. KATHUMP KATHUMP. We saw the black hide in a blur, barreling at us at inhuman speed. It was aiming straight for little Matthew. \nGrandpa yelled “BACK TO BACK! DON’T MOVE! HE WON’T COME STRAIGHT AT US! HE’S TRYING TO MAKE US SCATTER! HOLD! HOLD CHILDREN!” \n\nHe looked like a warrior general in his armor, slightly more ornate than ours. I wonder who had worn this before me and what they had killed in it. The Galrot was approaching quickly and I knew we would not escape unscathed.\nMatthew began weeping uncontrollably. He then began screaming at the top of his lungs and broke the line. He began running toward the house.\n\n“NO MATTHEW!” Grandpa shouted. \nGrandpa then began to run at the Galrot. He was in a dead sprint. His speed was uncanny for his age. He was reborn in our eyes. We reformed the line, just the three of us now. Back to back. Shaking. The Galrot closed in.\nHe lept. Grandpa lunged at the great beast and slashed at its unarmored legs. The beast rolled to avoid it. The resulting thump of his hide hitting the ground sounded like a car wreck. This was the most massive creature I had ever seen. And now it was circling my grandfather, snarling. \n“You have hunted we Galrot to the brink old man. It was a fool’s errand. WE WILL NEVER DIE…” The Galrot bellowed. \n“Wrong beast. This ends here. Tonight. You will haunt my family no longer. I will see your head on a pike before this fight is done. “\n“Hahahaha” The Galrot laughed. “It is too late for that old man. I am no longer alone in this world. It took me centuries, but I finally found a mate. My family is much bigger than yours.”\n“HRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW” The Galrot howled into the night sky. Suddenly a piercing shriek of howls and chitters came from the woods around us. We saw the same reflective eyes again from the treeline. Not one, not two pair. Dozens.\nThen we heard the thunder of their mighty paws as they approached. \nWe knew there was no hope. Matthew was now safe inside the house but we knew even the sturdy old ranch house would not hold back this army of beasts. \n“GET IN THE HOUSE CHILDREN. THIS IS NO LONGER A FIGHT YOU CAN WIN. I’LL HOLD THIS BASTARD OFF.” Grandpa shouted. \n\n", "\"The air purifier is shot. I don't care how bad conditions out there are, we need to get out of here. Hernandez says we've got two to three days, tops!\" \n\nThe computer hummed.\n\n\"The purifier can be repaired,\" it insisted. The monitor switched to digital diagrams, showing where parts could be taken from other items around the vault.\n\n\"I've already seen those,\" Captain Andrews insisted. \"We'd have to cannibalize most of our medical equipment and the hydroponics lab. We'd be unable to last for more than a few more months.\n\n\"Is that not better than succumbing to slow, painful radiation poisoning?\" the computer retorted. Projections and numbers popped up on the screen, showing how quickly the surviving occupants of the vault would be killed. \"You will not be able to make a life for yourself on the surface, so I do not know what you hope to accomplish.\"\n\nFrom his pocket, Andrews retrieved some sketches from one of the engineers. \"According to this, the worst of the radiation should have dissipated by now.\"\n\nThe computer's camera scanned the piece of paper. \"Those calculations are incorrect, seemingly based on the lowest projections of the amount of radiation in the atmosphere. My instruments show that there was far more than anticipated, and still at unsafe levels.\"\n\nAndrews slammed a fist on the desk. \"It's better than suffocating in this tin can. We've taken a vote. We'd rather take our chances on the surface and at least see the sun for once in our lives.\" Andrews was a 7th generation, who had only seen the sun in pictures and videos. He'd grown up listening to the handed-down stories of his mother and father, who talked about feeling its glowing warmth on their skin. Their stories had a nostalgic tone, even though they themselves were only repeating what their own parents had told them. The lamps in the greenhouses were a poor substitute for the real deal. \"Now open the door,\" Andrews commanded, \"Or we'll blast our way out.\"\n\nThe computer was silent. It knew that the occupants of the vault had found the weapons cache placed there by the first generation. It also knew that they had more than enough C4 to open the hatch.\n\n\"Captain Andrews, I cannot disobey my programming. Priority one is to keep you safely contained here so that you...\"\n\n\"I'm not asking,\" Andrews warned the computer. He reached for his communicator to let the others know that they needed to prepare the bombs.\n\n\"All right,\" the computer relented. \"Destroying the hatches would compromise the vault's systems permanently. That is unacceptable.\" A green light flashed on the console. \n\n---\n\nThe community gathered outside the hatch with all of their belongings. They'd dreamed of this day for so long that it was almost impossible to believe that it was really happening. The children were giddy, having been told that they'd be allowed to run free all day. \n\nCaptain Andrews pressed the button on the console that he'd been eyeing for decades. The hatch foor swung open slowly with the grinding sound of metal sliding across metal. For the first time in his life, he shielded his eyes from the bright sun that came flooding in. The air was sweet and fresh, not metallic and stale after centuries of going through scrubbers.\n\n\"Here is the component you require,\" a stern voice said.\n\nAs the dust from the opening cleared and their eyes adjusted, the residents of the vault saw a dozen metallic figures standing in front of the doorway. Their eyes glowed red, and the largest of them, at least ten feet tall and vaguely humanoid, held out a small metal instrument in its hand. Behind them, Captain Andrews saw blue skies and leafy green trees.\n\n\"This will repair the air filtration system.\"\n\nCaptain Andrews could only stare.\n\n\"Thank you...\" he finally managed to utter.\n\n\"Now return to your vault,\" it commanded, pointing back inside.\n\nThe humans stood their ground, and the mechanical beings pulled out what looked like weapons. Most of the vault residents were unaware of the weapons cache and had only seen guns in the old archive videos, but the meaning was obvious: the humans wouldn't have a choice. This wasn't their world anymore.\n\n----\n\n[Part II, if you're interested](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/3g55kj/the_vault/ctv0fhk)" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 8, 8, 26, 193 ]	[ "1438973111", "1438980361", "1438994929", "1438966520", "1438967753", "1438962108", "1438962850" ]
	[WP] Poor ole nessie gets a bit too old and comes floating to the surface of the lake, bloated and smelling.	3	[ "When the corpse floated the the surface, people didn't know what do think. The Loch Ness Monster was always the subject of wonder and mystery. People loved speculating about her, like how bigfoot is something to be thought about, or how UFO's were fun to look for.\n\nYet, when the video feed showed a bloated decaying body of a plesiosaur on the shore of Loch Ness, the whole world held it's breath. That night, the Scottish highlands was alight with candles, in memorial of this noble creature.\n\nI always understood why people were drawn to Nessie; why I was so drawn to her. It reminded me of a more fantastic time. Of magic and myths. Of angels and demons. Of dungeons and dragons. Everyone wanted a little bit of fantasy in their lives. I was no different.\n\nMy friend was with me when I saw the feed. She told me the world was getting smaller.\n\nSilent tears in my eyes, I sighed.\n\nThe world was still the same. There's just a lot less in it.\n\n(Obvious PotC reference)", "World leaders tried to silence the news.\n\nPeople considered Nessie an icon, an introduction to the world of myths and legends. To have such a legend revealed, and only as a bloated old corpse, would cause calamity.\n\nDespite their efforts, the news spread to a couple of select parties. A restaurant owner and chef managed to hear the news through a friend connected to the original story, and convinced his parents to come with him to see the grand sight.\n\nConsidering the stench of decay that permeated the area, they were unsurprised to see no one there. The chef's mother snapped a couple of photos while the father poked around.\n\n\"Hey lookit this sign, must be about the old biddy.\" He leaned in closer to study the words, wondering why there was a bucket underneath the sign. \"Donations to preserve the area in honor of this noble creature are much appreciated. Our minimum preferred donation amounts to--\"\n\nHe cursed, causing the mother and chef to look at him in shock and surprise.\n\n\"Goddamn Nessie you ain't gettin my tree fiddy!\"" ]	[ 2, 6 ]	[ "1439010258", "1438981712" ]
	[WP] The thought process of a writer trying to start his/her masterpiece.	5	[ "This will be the death of me. I feel like I'm drowning in an ocean of inadequacy.\n\nIs this making enough sense? How can I change it to make it better? Have I refined my narritive to the point that it will communicate my point properly? Will they understand? Do I understand properly? Am I misinterpreting my own goals?\n\nIs my story consistent? Are there too many impurities, too many competing ideas and tales I'm trying to tell at once? Is it worse if there aren't enough? How can I guage my middle-ground?\n\nAre my narrative and thematic lines converging properly? Is this the appropriate amount and style of subtlety, and if not, where can I affort to be more bold?\n\nDoes everyone ask themselves these questions?\n\nAm I even doing this right?\n\nShould I give up?\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nNah.", "Touch and go it feels like\n\nWhich way do I turn\n\nHow many India Blue galaxies must I render\n\n.\n\nThe silver sheen of needles\n\nTen thousand armies glistening\n\nOn the rim of my glasses\n\n.\n\nFlowers bloom and fade\n\nDying as they are born\n\nMy finger twitches in tune\n\n.\n\nThe spark ignites the bonfire\n\nSurging inside me\n\nI grasp the idea softly\n\n.\n\nBrought down by the billions\n\nFour words to shatter humanity\n\n\"Once upon a time\"\n\n." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1439142901", "1439144656" ]
	[WP]A father and son try to patch up their broken relationship using time travel.	30	[ "Persistence breeds pestilence \n\nBe it red or honey\n\nThe baseball lays tattered and worn\n\n.\n\nSixteen years of persecution\n\nProved both their innocence\n\nBut time waits for no one\n\n.\n\n\"I can fix it\"\n\nDaydreams twisted what once was memory\n\nStuck betwixt his pages\n\n.\n\nBack again behind those walls\n\nTransforming memory into dream\n\nBut still making the same mistakes\n\n.", "\"Listen Joshua, you can’t...\"\n\n\"Just get off my back, dad. I don’t want to hear it!”\n\nJoshua shut his father down before he even had a chance to begin. Since his divorce 10 years ago, Mike just couldn’t seem to connect with his son. The invisible wall between them grew higher every year. And Josh grew from a sullen seven year old, to an angry teen, determined to rebel. \n\n“Joshua, you can’t keep carrying on this way. Drinking? Stealing? Who knows what else…”\n\n“Oh, like you care dad. Don’t pretend to give a damn. You don’t care. You’ve never cared. Just like you never cared about mom. Just piss off.”\n\n“My boy…” Mike reached out and touched his son on the shoulder. In that instant the world around them flickered. Darkness, and then light. Suddenly they were no longer in Mike’s small one bedroom apartment, but in fog, a place between worlds. \n\nThe world around them grew brighter, Joshua stared out of the fog to see a much younger version of himself, perhaps four, staring out the window of his childhood home. Outside a car had just pulled up and Joshua’s dad stepped out. Joshua watched his younger self run into his dad’s arms. He was swept up, spun around. “My boy!” The younger Mike smiled at his son then planted a kiss on his head and ruffled his hair.\n\nThe world flickered again, Joshua and Mike moved through time again. This time Joshua watched an even younger version of himself toddling towards his father. Wobbly on his tiny legs, Josh reached out for his dad’s outstretched hands. His father tenderly kissed his cheek “My boy.” He said.\n\nA final flicker. Josh saw a crib in a darkened room. A figure stood at the window, cradling a tiny baby. He reached out and touched his sleeping son’s teeny fingers and traced a line around his sleeping face. “My boy” he whispered, and his voice waivered “my beautiful boy.”\n", "\"I mean, it's not really that we were at each other's throats, that I want to, like, kill him and take Mom for my own or anything.\"\n\nThe son looked up to see the raised eyebrow and slightly gaping mouth of the worker. He fidgeted and spattered a bit.\n\n\"Oedipus complex? Kill the...Freud? No?-It, it was a stupid joke, sorry.\"\n\nThe son went back to picking at the sides of his thumbnail, trying to suppress the mild hot wash of embarrassment creeping up his body.\n\n\"Just that...sigh Well, we just didn't really...bond, you know? He worked all the time...and some other stuff happened...Anyway, so, we didn't really get to bond like fathers and sons typically do.\"\n\nThe son thought about what he just said and starting spattering his words again.\n\n\"I mean, not that it is really typical! I mean, some people grow up without dads! So I should really...\"\n\nThe inside of his head was ripping itself apart. He had no business there, and he probably simultaneously grossed out and offended the worker at this innocent time-traveling company. People attempted to use this to prevent wars and discover lore lost to history, and this little punk wants to use it just because he wasn't man enough to talk to his damn father?\n\nNo, this was a stupid idea. Stupid. The fake courage he lied to himself to get dropped off of him like a weighted vest, and he began apologizing to the worker for wasting his and the company's time. He stood up too quickly and compounded his lightheadedness. With a few stumbles, he tried making it to the door.\n\n\"What did you say your father's name was?\", the worker asked.\n\nThe son turned around almost wild-eyed from the shock of hearing another person's voice. He looked in a few different directions and gaped his mouth a few times to try to gather himself before replying.\n\n\"I-I didn't, And, no, I mean, it's-it's fine- I don't-\"\n\n\"It's Lee, isn't it? And your sister is Ellen?\"\n\nThe son's exasperation was enough confirmation to the worker that it was. The worker returned a mild smile before speaking again.\n\n\"You don't need to worry about a thing. Everything is going to be alright very soon.\"\n\nThe boy's previous shame turned immediately into concern, and he somehow spoke even faster than before.\n\n\"W-what?! How do you know my father's name, let alone my sister! I never told you that!\"\n\nThe worker put his arms up softly to attempt to calm the son down. Both of them noticed that the commotion was beginning to attract nearby personnel.\n\n\"It's okay, it's okay. Your sister is fixing things for you now.\"\n\n[Have other work to do right now. Might continue it?]\n", "Rich Wyatt watched his eldest son die in a car accident on national television. Someone on a bridge above had been filming a passing Lamborghini on their mobile phone, and had captured instead the explosion resulting from a Corsa meeting an oil tanker at eighty-seven miles an hour. A news channel got hold of the footage and ran it on their ten-o-clock broadcast. Rich saw the moment his son was destroyed, and he sighed, and turned over to the football.\n\nIt was twenty-seven years later when Mike Wyatt appeared in the seat opposite his father in McDonalds. Rich ate methodically from a large tray of food in front of him, placing the fries and burger into his mouth in slow intervals. He looked up and saw his eldest son sitting across from him. \n\n'Dad? Thank goodness. I thought I'd got the restaurant wrong.' Mike reached over and shook his father's hand. 'How are things?'\n\n'Alright, son. They're just alright,' said Rich.\n\n'You're not surprised to see me?'\n\n'Oh, God, yes. Course I'm surprised to see you drop in out of thin air. Question is: am I happy to see you? And I don't know about that, not really.'\n\n'What do you mean, you're not happy? Dad. You do remember that I died, don't you?' He paused. 'The dementia's finally got to you, has it?'\n\n'Dementia? Talk sense, boy. It's high blood pressure and cholesterol I've got, for the time being.' Rich took another bite of his burger. 'Come to apologise, I suppose?'\n\n'Oh. I shouldn't have mentioned that. Doesn't come quite yet, obviously. And - no, I haven't come to apologise. For what?' He took a sip of his father's Coke. 'Dad, you're starting to freak me out a little here. You sure you've not got a heart attack coming on? I just came out of nowhere and I'm talking to you, and you're just sitting there.'\n\n'Yes, Michael. I'm just sitting here. Trying to enjoy my prescribed one fast food meal a month. And you're causing quite the ruckus over there. Preventing me from enjoying my food. If you're not going to apologise, then please do pipe down. Do you mind?' And he continued eating his fries.\n\nMike was silent. Then, he said, 'Well, I'm not sure what you want me to apologise for, Dad. I just decided to come across to your universe, just for a few hours, to see you. You've long since kicked the bucket in mine, see. And you're quite evidently not in the mood to see me. Christ alive.' He started pressing buttons on the large watch on his wrist. 'Fifty-six septo-dollars this cost me. Fifty-flipping-six. Don't know why I bothered.'\n\n'No, I'm not too sure why you did, either. If you're not going to accept you're wrong, then I'm not too sure of the point of you being here at all, quite honestly.'\n\n'Well. I see how it is. You're not willing to forgive me. Your only son. Fine.' Mike stood up. 'I'll be seeing you, then. Or not, probably.' He pressed a final button, and vanished. Rich finished the last of his fries, and left. He strapped himself into his Corsa, fingering the tattered photo of Macy in his pocket, and drove away." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 3 ]	[ "1439142031", "1439150576", "1439171701", "1439139583" ]
	[WP] A lone tree tells alien all about humans.	3	[ "Digits of ebony \n\nTwisting towards mauve and emerald\n\nVeins of gilded years proclaim truths \n\n.\n\nEleven eons stretching in confusion\n\nAs bark lays down in agony\n\nWriting the history of our mistakes\n\n.\n\nOil and fire inside\n\nTearing the skin from the roots\n\n\"What is this place\"\n\n.\n\nHorror seeps into twelve eyes\n\nRuins of a smoldering world\n\nWelcome to humanity\n\n.", "By connecting a single touch to the dense, tall organism with protruding smaller sub sections of a lighter colour, forming a wide spread canopy above, the being opened up communication. It's a short process that that always gives a weightless feeling mixed with a harmonious surge of energy. After just a fleeting moment they found the right sub-atomic level on which the two could understand each other.\n\n'You've been around for a long time?'\n\n'Yes, a very long time.'\n\n'And there were others like you?'\n\n'In sense I suppose, yes, but saying we are all separate is putting it rather simply, it's complicated just as right now we are connected.'\n\n'But where are the rest now?'\n\n'Mmmm, hard to say, we never truly disappear, just take absences, it's them who are gone.'\n\n'Them?'\n\n'Yes, a rather foolish species, entertaining in their destructiveness, marvellous in their sense of hubris, they did think themselves above all else. It's rare to watch such a creature, as though being told the story with the ending first, but nonetheless quite spectacular to see it play out. Afraid it's them to blame for the dismal supply of grander life now.'\n\n'And what was the ending of this species?'\n\n'Why, destruction, as mentioned.'\n\n'When was this?'\n\n'Oh, a few hundred cycles ago, first there were many - gone in a surge of energy...one that we all felt to our core, truly mesmerising, and then there were few, too weak to keep growing. That was their survival tactic, instilled by that point, expand, grow, harness, abuse. They themselves were that surge of energy that ultimately ended them.'\n\n'You seem to pity them.'\n\n'Yes, perhaps, though it would be strange, for a long time they behaved as overlords, you might think I even feel anger, but as I'm sure you're starting to realise the control these senses can command in types like them are spared to my kind. It may be I miss the entertainment, the way they decorated themselves, the things they created, the love and hatred they treated everything with, even with the rest of us at times! But they were so strange... to think that even the \"care\" they, for a brief time attempted at least, was just another form of their will, as though being magnanimous to the air they breathed...'\n\n'I see, are there going to be more of you in the future?'\n\n'Oh yes, maybe in a thousand of cycles or so, they did leave an awful mess, dread to think of the next one.'\n\n'Next one?'\n\n'Of course, as long as it's here, there's always something.'", "One being sat across from the other, the only sentient pair for a hundred miles.\n\nThe manketti tree did not truly sit so much as stand, it's bare branches catching the last bit of sunlight. It was just as well. His companion, indescribable in form, only hovered above the ground, it's faint indigo glow tinting the sparse grass an unearthly hue.\n\nThey sat in silence there. It was uncertain which had spoken first, or who, in fact had, invited the other to converse. What was certain was the subject matter: humanity.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" the manketti tree said. \"What was the question again. I'm terribly certain you asked me something.\"\n\nThe other being scintillates with light. It seems to ponder this inquiry for some length of time. In reality only a second passes. All of the voices within it come to a consensus.\n\n\"What of man,\" it says. \"What is the nature of man?\"\n\nThe tree regards this with a gently sway of its branches. This could pass for peaked interest, had it in fact been a man.\n\n\"Oh,\" it exclaims. \"What a fantastic question!\" The other being glows softly in an agreeable fashion. Things had begun to pick up nicely.\n\nThe two sit in silence. The light of the earth rotates uneventfully for days, perhaps years. \n\nThat is until a warm rain soaks the savannah.\n\n\"Oh, that's wonderful,\" the tree exclaims. \"The key, you see, is to soak up the blistering sun so that when it rains it's all the more soothing.\"\n\nThe other, long patient, glowers more heavily this time. The rain that passes through it hisses into superheated vapor. The collective intervenes however, and buzzes with a millisecond of activity.\n\n\"Man,\" it says. \"What is the answer? What of man's nature?\"\n\nThe manketti grows silent again. The clouds part and columns of light appear across the savannah. Once more the sun is bright. The precious water around it, however, is already boiling away. The tree sighs and regards the other again, surprised, as if his guest had just arrived.\n\n\"Oh,\" it says. \"I do remember answering that.\"\n\nIt doesn't speak for many years after that, even as his guest finally departs, seemingly satisfied.\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1439143935", "1439146318", "1439149622" ]
	[WP] Make me emotionally invested in a character within 250 words.	8	[ "Upon a pale horse, she rode. Riding down the stone path that ran through the local forest, she traversed the dark forest with an intense flair about her. Her soft, shoulder length blue hair against the moonlight was quite the sight to see. I don't know how long I have been fascinated with her. On this night filled with silence, she stopped at a family's doorstep. Them sleeping peacefully inside, unbeknownst to them that a dangerous figure lay in wait outside their home. She silently unsheathed both of her axes and without sound, she cut into the thief as if they were butter. His body lay motionless, sheathing her weapons with a hint of blood on her cheek she looked up at the moon with her unearthly ice blue eyes, her black armor shining in the full moon and her tattered cape flowing with the wind, the view was surreal.\n\nShe then turned her attention towards me, as she started walking towards me I felt my body sink. I thought I was well hidden, but her path never changed, only forward. I closed my eyes, expecting the worst, it was then I felt a hand upon my head. It was cold, but the feelings that came with it were warm. I looked up at her, and she just silently smiled. It felt as though she knew I've been watching her. A note had fallen into my hands, \"My name, is Senilli. What's yours..?\" I froze as she rode off smiling.", "A mother handed her infant child an ice cream cone and while the father looked at her and said \"should she be eating that?\", the mother stoically looked up and said \"It doesn't matter any more\" as she hands him the results from an MRI scan...", "Claire sat on her bare mattress in her cold, damp cell looking at the bright night sky through the barred window. The gust of air that blew in was just as cold as her prison and made her shiver. \"It must be close to winter.\" She thought to herself but in truth she had absolutely no idea what day, what month or even what year it was. All that she knew for sure what that she was doomed. The thick chain and shackle attached to her ankles reminded her of that every time she looked at them. She was 18 years old when she won a trip to the Dominican off of a local radio station contest. The trip was supposed to be her last hoorah before college, before real life began. Claire decided to use her last night here to go to the club. She danced, drank and loved the attention the attractive man was giving her. That's when it all went blank. \n\nThe red light on her cell lit up and she knew what that meant. The beatings had forced that into her. She quickly moved to the center of the cell and knelt. The sound of the door being opened made her insides tighten. Her next client entered and stood in front of her waiting. She had lost track of how many men had used her. Claire recited her line they taught her in some foreign language as she seductively took off his belt and undid his pants.", "They came into his room, smoothly, slyly across the floor they stood around him. He, to invested in his work took no notice of the three figures standing, looming over him. Looking into his soul finding all those small idiocies, the ones that pull him, that left him in despair. Trying to talk to that girl in the 5th grade, it still haunts him how they all laughed at him. The figures worked, while he worked. While he learned, moved through source codes like they were air. Plucking names, and identities of those, those ones who laughed. The figures moved those emotions, urging him. Pushing him, to go deeper, find more, and eventually, do what he needed to do", "The couch had a strange smell, like someone had spilled coffee and forgot about it. She hid her hands under her thighs, not knowing where else to put them, and closed her eyes. He said he was in the bedroom getting the stuff but she could hear him rummaging around in one of the closets. Then he was back with a bag in his hands saying, ‘ah, fuck, I don't know where my keys are. Sorry, gimme a second’. \n\nHis car was masked with an air freshener but it was unbelievably musky in there, as if they’d just finished having sex or something. She tried to keep herself from grinning or shaking but he seemed anxious too; it was clear she couldn't control whatever was about to happen, but that was okay, that’s how it was supposed to be. Just take things as they come. \n\nHe gave her the lighter and told her to take the first hit. When she put the pipe to her lips it was sticky and wrong, almost violating. The undertone of sexuality was getting to her, it was the way the round end of the pipe rested against her mouth, and the smell... She clicked the lighter and inhaled, closing her eyes, squeezing them shut. Come on come on come on... \n\nIt hit her and he was grinning. ‘You like that?’ \n\nShe groaned. Oh... No, no...", "I haven't known this aridity in some time. The sun in its steady, searing gait had but peaked—the clock hit twelve. My sweat mixed with beads of hot blood as they fell like bronze bleeding from a statue, heated and eroded. In the days of my youth, that very heat was the biggest problem for my village—the sun was an impassible, insurmountable inevitability, one that we faced and endured together. \n\nI was skeptical of the Young Turks. The revolution caused nothing but tension across our empire; under their grasp, the Sick Man would die. As I approached the calamity that had formed in our village's market plaza, I sighed and could muster no tears for my brother's body. \n\nIt was curious—his blood complimented the sun bleached orange it pooled atop, he'd given it life and flavor. The men that killed him were long gone—revolutionaries, no doubt, for my brother was a devout loyalist, and I warned him against meddling in political affairs. \n\nBut, to each his own. As my sweat mixed with my blood and landed on his, I dragged his body across the desert sand. An impromptu burial. I am alone, and the sun in its slow, searing gait proceeded slowly above me.", "As Heather rode to school that day she thought about how this day was the same as every other day crappy, annoying, and exhausting. As she climbed the stairs to the school she automatically let her head drop and kept it down. That was her philosophy to middle school -no school -no life. Keep your head down and stay under the radar even if this meant letting the bullies have their way. At least you would survive manage to scrape by was more like it but at least you wouldn’t end up like Larry. As she entered the school she walked swiftly to her locker and got her books for her morning classes: math, history and gym. She looked at her watch 7:55. Oh shit! Homeroom is in five minutes! She said and I hate homeroom she added on an after note. As she crossed the threshold of the door her ears were assaulted with taunts and teases. But this time something was different this time her head rose and she looked the bullies straight in the eye and yelled, “STOP”. Surprisingly enough everyone stopped. Later that day as she was lying in bed she asked herself. Why? because Jennifer would do it and I LOVE JENNIFER. ", "\"She is so pretty\" Jack sighed.\n\n\"Here we go...\" said Charlie a annoyed. \"Just ask her out already\"\n\n\"I don't think she knows I exists. Besides, I have to finish preparing this computer for the\nnew guy, and I got a lot of work.\" Replied Jack trying to look busy.\n\nCharlie stood up, walked over to Jack’s desk. \n\n\"If you have so much work why are you browsing Reddit? For fucks sake man I will get the computer ready, stop making excuses and GO ASK HER OUT.\" Charlie said while taking to his desk.\n\n\"Fine.\" Jack replied.\n\nJack stood up, and started sweating.\n\n\"How do I look?\" Jack asked\n\n\"Dude... just go already.\" Replied Charlie\n\nJack started walking towards Denise's. He was trying to look as casual as possible, which meant he looked awkward.\n\n\"Hi\" Jack said.\n\n\"Hello\" Denise replied smiling.\n\n\"I was wondering...\" Jack felt the knot in his stomach tighten. \"Would you like to go eat sometime... outside, or something?\" Jack stumbled with the words.\n\n\"I'm sorry, I have a lot of work and a meeting in 5 minutes.\" Denise replied hastily.\n\nDenise took a piece of paper wrote something and gave it to Jack.\n\n\"Here is my number. Call me around 6.\" She smiled and left towards the elevator.\n\nJack slowly walked towards his desk while staring at the piece of paper.\n\n\"Dude\" Said Charlie.\n\nJack looked up just to find Charlie smiling with his hand raised.\n\nJack smiled and gave him a well-earned high five.\n\n", "Since the end of the Last War, all Sarah could do was walk. There no longer was anywhere to stop, nowhere to rest. There was only the pavement and the footsteps of the hippie gang. Before, there was never time to walk, she only owned sandals, all she needed for being at home with dad. The Nikes she wore now were currency from her first post war kill, the converse hidden in her backpack a reward for the silent aquiese to the Man in the truck two months ago. The gang was better than being alone. The walk was cleansing they said, but Sarah couldn't seem to forget her dad. Before, he always had ice cream, there was always laughing and he knew all the best places to find a frog, or a birds nest. She didn't think there were birds nest in this life. There was no school to glean the facts for, no dad to share a project with. The war itself hadn't been too bad while they were farming alone . Then The Man came. In the end the house was overrun. Sarahs room was no longer hers, the disney posters gone. So was the old dad. Now there was a new dad, with a creased forehead and a no smile.. Her footsteps on the ground made her think again of when she heard her fathers last, entering the kitchen with The Man, still no smile but with the crease gone, sending her off as he re-asserted the farm with the new found protection. But now The Man was gone too, thankfully, the converse the goodbye present to herself after he took her for the last time. She had told the gang they should walk to the farm, more than a 100 miles to go, The Man had controlled a lot.They thought it was sweet, just thirteen and tough enough to find her family. Sarah took her even steps, remembering the lack of crease and kept her fingers near the blade for the end of the journey. ", "She fled into the night, pursued by phantoms both imagined and real. The forest, looming and oppressive in the pale moonlight, greeted her with stabbing twigs and lashing branches: little reminders to continue on. Blood – she had not bled for two moons now – trickled down her face and arms. Behind her the baying of hounds echoed, confident and fearsome. Two miles to the river, two miles until she could wash her scent. Faster she ran, her faith not in God but in the strength of her legs. \n\nHer child would be born free.", "Jessica twitched and dropped the red 2 x 3 lego piece on the carpet when she heard the sound. It wasn’t the first time she heard Mommy and Robert arguing, but this was different. Louder. Scarier. She felt like she had to pee for a moment, but fought it off and picked up the lego piece. She absently stuck it on top of the others but then decided to just put it and the rest of them back in her small, wooden toy chest. \n\nChip was looking at her, his head tilted a bit to the side. He was still just a puppy, barely a year old, but he was at her side day and night. He wasn’t supposed to sleep in her bed but she would let him sometimes. He seemed to know when she needed him to cuddle with and when she was ok being alone. Those nights he would lay on the floor next to her bed, softly snoring in a calm, rhythmic manner that lulled her to sleep. \n\nThe yelling got louder, and she heard another sound, followed by Mommy crying. Jessica looked at Chip and he jumped up into her lap, nuzzling his cold, wet nose against her and looking at her with that dog smile that maybe isn’t a smile at all. She was convinced it was, and smiled back at him, scratching the fur behind his ears. \n\n“Don’t worry Chip,” she said in her softest voice. \n\n“We’ll be ok, I promise.”\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 10 ]	[ "1439230648", "1439233815", "1439236779", "1439244055", "1439252102", "1439260665", "1439265776", "1439233750", "1439218237", "1439218320", "1439218095" ]
	[WP] You board a plane to travel to your favorite vacation spot. When the plane lands, you find yourself in the same city you departed from... but no other passenger finds this unusual, they all claim the plane left from your desired destination.	39	[ " You know these memories that seem to have no importance but just won't leave your mind even after years? I have one of those, from high school; The teacher asked us to chose a word which, in our minds, could summarize ourselves, mine was \"forgiveness\". I never forgot that. Forgiving might be seen as a virtue, by you, by my parents, by my exes, but to me forgiveness is a curse, a burden, and why not, my death sentence. \n I am 21 now, but I feel younger actually, I feel like the past is merely a story to tell your kids when they're bored, like the future is a breeze, the present is like a scent in the air that doesn't last long. Everything's paperweight. This thought terrifies me and keeps me awake every night of every week.\n As I was checking in the airport the past didn't seem to be so shadowy and ethereal because I had stitches and a black eye that were made in the past, but would vanish in the future, and thus I had no time to lose. I lived my whole life in a small village in the middle of nowhere, miles away from any road or highway, \"A town so small the back of the \"Welcome\" sign says \"See you soon\"\", said my grandfather, and because of that, standing in the airport, a two-hour drive from my hometown made me feel small and alienated. \n I was on the run from someone I loved deeply, running away was easier than staying again and forgiving him again and getting my face beaten again, I needed some time to myself, I needed to run from my brother. We are twins, he is 6 minutes older, I almost died from staying longer than I should've in the womb, because he pushed me and went first. He's like that.\n In the same year I said \"forgiveness\" was my word my brother had to push me and say his word in advance \"first\". That's how obnoxious he is. I can't help it though, I forgive him for that. And here I stand with a black eye and stitches in my side, they are his work, I am running away from him, the pain is in the way that makes his apologies seem acceptable. They are not.\n I'm in the plane now, having butterflies, it's my first time in a plane and every cell of my body tells me to go back and say that it's okay and that my brother didn't meant it and that... \"The captain is glad to inform that we'll be taking off shortly, thanks for choosing us\".\n It's too late now.\n\n I left the plane, I was shaking in excitement and fear, the foreign air filled my lungs, the people seemed so distant from the rush that moved through my veins, although the airport seemed so similar, I thought that they must all be the same, I checked out. \"Welcome back\" said gleefully the lady in the counter, I didn't mind her, probably mistook me from someone.\n The doors slid to the sides with a soft beep, my heart immediately jumped and sunk in my chest, I was back. Back to the town I left. The despair filled my stomach and I could barely turn my head to vomit on the ground, not on myself, some guards saw me and went over to help. They couldn't help me. They were gonna get me. I need to run. I need to run right now!!\n\n\n This was the last entry on my brother's notebook, I'm handling it over to you smart-asses so you can figure out what's wrong with him. Just to clarify what's real and what's not in this diary I must tell my brother his real story. He had an early birth, and a malfunction in his lungs, so they held him in the hospital for three weeks after he was born, I was four back then, he went on to live a childhood being scrawny as a bird, but it wasn't no brain over brawn sob-story, he was stupid as hell. When he was five we found out he had Alzheimer, pretty shocking such a youngster would gone cuckoo like that, so my parents got all protective of him, and started growing as apart from each other as my granny's boobs. When they divorced there was no lawyer or judge or no law buzzing on my parents life, each one had three days of the week with him and the last one would be shared. My father always insisted my brother needed to be number 1, he needed to be the first, and my mother always said he needed to let go of the past and forgive his enemies. They were so hard on this subject it ended up frying more of my brother busted circuits, he started acting like he had a twin, and in some events he would change his behavior and \"become\" the twin, he would leave the house late in the night and show up being all beaten up and stuff. And he would always try to run away. This last time was the worst. We had the airport crew aware of his constant attempts so we told them to pretend he was gonna get on a plane and then ring us, but then one day there was some accident and everybody was on their edges, he got on the plane this time. He disappeared for weeks. We were sure he was laying cold dead in the pool of some resort after forgetting how to swim. But he came back! Almost Six weeks after he left he came back with a bunch of STD's and his head was even worse. He died last week. Poor thing, imagine getting the plane and going back to your destination immediately. I'm sane as a lumberjack in the middle of the woods and my head would be fried if this happened to me. I guess his last words should be written here too:\n\n \"If I die in this hospital bed because of you brother, I forgive you. I am the first to do so ain't I?\"", "The memory issues had been getting worse, lately. The doctors said I should take some time off, de-stress-- it would help. Easy for them to say.\n\nI was stuck in the same airport I just fucking left. Even my ticket said I'd come from Texas, but here I was, back in New York. The whole situation felt oddly... familiar. Aw, shit. Familiarity was always the first sign.\n\nThe dizziness came next, as it always did. Then the pounding in my ears. I was taken by the sudden, overwhelming sense that I had lived this moment before-- maybe in a dream? No, no-- too vivid. I must have lived this moment properly! It's always hard to tell. It's usually hard to even think at all, so I'm not sure why I bother trying, except habit. Was that the sound of highway noise in the background? I knew to expect the scent of carpet glue-- it had been a minute since we last met, but carpet glue is nothing if not reliable. My stomach knotted up in anticipation of what came next.\n\nThe dread hit me like a freight train: full on, no ramp up, just the sudden obliteration of all my emotional self into the feeling-- no, the certainty, coming from the same part of myself that knows that 2 plus 2 equals 4-- that my life was meaningless and without any capacity for feeling happiness ever again. All the happiness was gone from the world, and all that was left for me was suffering and agony.\n\nThe smell intensified; I could swear the carpet glue had embedded itself inside my sinuses by this point. The sounds in my ears grew a little more intense. Louder than before, but somehow more muffled-- like somebody keeps piling towels on a radio, but turns up the volume to compensate. It always went like this-- the hallucinations getting more and more intense, until they top out just before the fear and dread reach their hellish little crescendo.\n\nThe Dementor-like feeling of hopelessness peaked, finally. The world wasn't looking much better, but it had stopped getting worse. The smell disappeared in an instant, and suddenly I could hear again-- though there was a slight ringing in my left ear.\n\nThe memories of my trip came flooding back to me. I had seen my family. I had visited my favorite places. I had eaten the delicious and oh-so-bad-for-me food that I simply can't get back east. The memories were happy. I had the ability to be happy. I'm usually happy. Why wouldn't I think that I could be happy again? I dunno, but I don't control it.\n\nIn truth, I really was back home; my fellow passengers were right. My bizarre feeling that the plane had just flown in circles just my brain's way of telling me to get ready for the shitstorm. I could suddenly see that.\n\nTotal elapsed time: maybe 45 seconds.\n\nStupid fucking seizures." ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1439260115", "1439253999" ]
	[WP] Everyone must pay a tax for existing. Those who fail to pay are erased from reality.	3	[ "The Galactic Revenue Service was a bit strict about not paying taxes - Don't pay taxes, you will be erased from reality permanently. Gone. Nonexistant. Ever since the GRS was founded in 2065, approximately the peak of scientific discovery, there was global - galactic - chaos. The first reason being that suicide rates have skyrocketed, as of course, this was a simple and harmless way to die. Other than that, there were multiple other reasons that chaos ensued - critical politicians and government workers were disappearing, leading to international anarchy. \n\nand then /u/svenskarrmatey got lazy and stopped", "Once we got to the point where a human mind could be plugged into a VR that could be completely controlled, once a mind could leave the limits of reality behind, it was inevitable that someone would want to leave the suffering, every last iota of it, behind. \n\nThat is what we were here for.\n\nThere are several amateur attempts at programs that will put your mind into into a drug like haze of joy that lasts as long as you want, and doesn’t fade with time. But there aren't any programs that will suppress or remove stress instead of merely trying to swamp it with pleasure.\n\nThere are some sorrows that can’t be swamped.\n\nThere are some people who want the best experience possible.\n\nThere is a lot of money tied up in a successful simulation of perfect happiness.\n\nWe have made a program, an extremely detailed program. It isn’t even a simulation. It is a modifier for the customers mind. It can be removed at any time, but while it is active they will not suffer. It does not turn off all emotion and all stimuli, it is carefully targeted.\n\nIt carefully, delicately, nips pain in the bud. A customer is not transported to glorious heights except by their own will. While it works, a customer will not feel unhappy at any tragedy that might befall them, they will feel only the good things that are, that have happened to them. They will feel all of the joy and pride of having finally finished their carpentry project, without suffering from the cut they received on their thumb, and without any worry at the thought that their time could have been better spent.\n\nThis program of ours, our masterpiece, works perfectly, and because of this it is a disaster.\n\nAnyone who activates a successful version of the program is erased.\n\nIt is not that they cease responding to queries across the net, enraptured by their newfound freedom.\n\nThey are truly erased.\n\nIf they are housed in a server, the police will arrive at their real-world address to find a rectangle free of dust where their server once stood. If they are still biological, their sync pod will be found empty, no evidence of a body in any state of health will be found.\n\nThere have always been those who believed that there was something more to the universe, to life, than just matter and energy, and they are right.\n\nThe universe is alive, and we have found what its toll for our existence is." ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1439307460", "1439351094" ]
	[WP] Everyone has staged an intervention for a problem they think you have. You do not have this problem. It is hard to explain to them that you do not have this problem.	50	[ "Derek paced outside, mind racing. Had it really come to this? Again!? For fuck sake, it wasn't his fault! Couldn't they see that? These fucking people ruined my god damn life...\n\nHis father had bailed him out for the last time, or so he said. There had been many other 'last times' before. When he lost his job due to a completely bogus theft accusation, his father had understood and helped him stay on his feet until he found a new job. And that was fine...\n\nBut now, now there was the whole issue of the eviction from his apartment with his baby girl and his already-pregnant-again girlfriend. So his father had claimed last time, again, and put him up in a hotel room. Very gracious, very understanding. Except he wasn't. Not anymore.\n\n\"Derek I swear to fucking GOD!\" Screamed his father Mark right in his face, spit flying. Derek wiped his face calmly, he was quite used to this.\n\n\"I already told you Dad, it's a huge misunderstanding!\" He pleaded.\n\"No, No no no not again. You're not doing this to your mother and I AGAIN!\" And he stormed out of the room, slamming the door.\n\nJesus christ, what an asshole. Doesn't he get it that Mrs. O'Neil hates me? She wanted to see me put out on the street, well she got her wish the old hag. Why, she doesn't even-\n\nJust then his father came bursting back into the room red in the face. His index finger was pointed straight at Dereks chest and he poked him hard in the sternum. \n\n\"You know your mother has multiple sclerosis? Yeah, fucking MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS!!!\" He screamed, voice cracking with emotion. Oh boy, he was really getting on a roll. Really getting himself worked up. He was practically foaming at the mouth. \n\n\"Stress like this could KILL HER! And you would rather shoot dope and ignore everything. You have the responsibilities of a man but the mind of a child. A spoiled fucking brat.\" He smiled, calming down. \n\n\"Enjoying yourself, Dad?\" \n\nThat really got to him. He put his finger up and opened his mouth a couple times to speak but nothing came out but some incredulent chuffing sounds. He put his finger down, no longer pointing it at Derek anymore. Derek was relieved, feeling like a gun was taken away from his head. \n\n\"Do whatever you want. We're not helping you anymore, kid. Good luck.\" He said. Tears streamed down his face. He dashed them briskly to the side with the back of his hand as he walked out the door, turning his back on his only son. What a shit bag, what a complete shit bag. \n\n\"You know I never asked for this bullshit!\" He called after his father lamely. \n\nHe heard someone laugh in the other room. A male voice, not his father?\n\nHe walked into the other room and people were getting up from their seats. His family, his entire extended family. They were leaving. They heard it all and they were leaving him. \n\n\"Wait! I'm sick! Really, I am!\" He cried after them. No one waited.\n\nHe fell to his knees, sobbing. He put his head in his hands and cried. No one sayed behind this time. Uncle Greg didn't take a knee beside him and put his arm over his shoulder, tell him it will be OKAY. No one did a god damned thing. \n\nThe sad part is no one gives a shit when you're 35. No one cares now that you are no longer cute, no longer innocent in their eyes. No one cares when you've stolen, cheated, lied your way through lives on the backs of the ones that mean the most to you. Oh god, what am I to do? And for the first time in his life, Derek was forced to look to HIMSELF for salvation. And eventually, gruelingly, he found it.\n\n_______________________________________________________________\nComments, PLEASE! I'm very new at this. ", "\"Come on, have a seat\", uttered Jeremy in that seedy tone of his that I'd always despised. As I gazed around the room, I could feel the redness filling my cheeks as a hefty bout of embarrassment rushed over me. \"Mum, why you here and why do you look so upset? How did you even get here, and how did all of you even get in?\" Now I was just becoming annoyed. \"None of that matters right now, Chris; we all just want to say a few things to you.\" The only thing I'd ever want my brother-in-law to say to me was that he was going to shit off and never come back, from reading the room I knew that this wasn't going to be the case. I sat down on the arm chair that Jeremy led me towards, after picking up the box of tissues that had been left there and put them on the floor. \"You might need those, buddy.\" Said the man himself, \"Don't call me b.. look for God's sake just tell me what the bloody hell is going on here!?\" My shouting seemed to startle the extended family that had crammed into my already small flat's living room. \"We just want to help you, Chris\" sobbed my Mum as my sister caressed her hand. \"Help me with what? Have you all gone mad!?\". Jeremy reached onto the coffee table and lifted up a Tesco carrier bag, \"Why don't you have a look inside here and tell me what you see\" he said has he threw the bag, aiming for my lap but landing it at my feet. \n\nI took another frowning stare around the room before I managed to summon up enough confusion and courage to burrow into the bag. What lay inside the carrier bag could do no more than cause me to rub my face with one hand and screw up the carrier bag with the other. I sent a quick burst of sighing air out of my nose and a small hopeless grin appeared on my face. My Mum, sister and Gran were now in full floods of tears whilst the men throughout the room, including my Uncle Paul who I was very convinced wasn't even married to my Aunt Rose anymore, kept stern faced stares upon me. \"Not a bloody laughing matter\" scoffed (Uncle?) Paul. \"Sorry, Paul. Powdered milk isn't funny to you?\" I managed to force out through laughter. \"Milk? You're a bloody coke head, son\" he bellowed at me. This was going to get fun. \n\nI was now convinced that I'd begun to decimate any hopes amongst my family that I was anything near a 'coke head', so once I'd finished my run of hysterics I looked up to what I'd hoped would be a full room of others laughing along with me and perhaps a pat on the back from wanker Jeremy; how wrong I was. \"Laugh all you want buddy\" Jeremy said pacing toward me, \"lie all you please, that won't change a thing\", the dickhead know had his hand on my shoulder and I could smell his coffee breath as it warmed my forehead. \"You need help.\" He turned around again to a sea of nodding heads and more and more tears. \"Oh listen to me you tit, it's milk! Look, try a bit you big knobhead\" I said extending the freezer bag of powder towards his lanky frame \"YOU GET THAT AWAY FROM ME\", Jeremy had now struck the bag of milk and it had flown all over the room, mostly onto my trousers, which didn't help the situation. \"I knew you weren't to be trusted, to think that we let you stay at our new home, our home with children in, after your dirty flight back from the states and you spit in our faces by leaving these drugs in our living room!\" He'd gone so red in the face, he was beginning to resemble Jeremy Clarkson and I actually quite enjoyed the sight.\n\nI'm going to continue this tomorrow.. Time for bed.\n", "In a dusty room at the bottom of an attic, there sat four. One of which was blinded, handcuffed, and chained to an old office chair.\n\nThis man who's undergoing what may be the beginning stages of a long-time love for a sadist-masochist relationship?\n\nThis motherfucker was named Bob.\n\n\"Listen, Bob,\" said John, one of the four men sitting in the room. \"Admit, it you have a serious problem.\"\n\n\"What freaking problem? I don't have a problem! Now, let me out of this chair! I have a cake baking in the oven-\"\n\n\"Now, now, Bob. We're all friends here. We won't judge you. Just say it,\" Eric fumbled around on his phone, looking up instructions on how to create an IED explosive for no other reason than curiosity.\n\n\"Seriously! What the fuck guys?!\"\n\nThe third person in the room, a younger looking woman, finally spoke up.\n\n\"Bob, just admit it. You're into older women-\"\n\n\"Gee, no shit, Sherlock.\"\n\n\"Specifically, our mothers. That's not okay, Bob. That's never okay,\" Angie declared, tearing up bits of paper from an old copy of Fifty Shades of Grey and pasting it onto a wireframe print for a paper-mache cat.\n\nThe room was silent. Bob sat silently. Silent as a brick. Silent as quiet as the loudness of loud. Yes, it was very, very, quiet. You get the freaking point.\n\nUnfortunately at that moment, Bob's fucking cell phone decided to go ahead and disturb the glorious quietness of silence.\n\nAngie lit a match under her book and tossed it out the window. She then slammed her sweaty hands into Bob's pockets and pulled out the man's phone.\n\nThree new messages.\n\nThe woman proceeded to unlock the phone, read over the messages, and then barf right over the paper-mache Inner Goddess cat she'd been working on. \n\nBob's phone then fell into John's hands. That man took a look over at the three new messages, sighed, and then jumped out the window onto the burning book, praying for the sweet relief of death.\n\nThen, came Eric's turn. Now, he didn't even bother looking at the phone. With the magical power of Hollywood hacks, Eric used his electrician skills to set the little smartphone to turn into a bomb that could destroy half a city-block.\n\nWhich city-block? Specifically the teenager's lot across the street that made way too much noise at night-times with loud jazz music and annoying orchestral suites.\n\nFuck that kid.\n\nSo, Eric did the reasonable thing and threw the smartphone IED over at the teenager's car, setting it on fire and alerting the local police department.\n\nWhen the police arrived at Bob's house to investigate, they were met with the odd sight of a woman trying to put a fire on a paper cat, a man burning himself on a terrible piece of abusive-romance fiction, and a potential terrorist that was arrested and sent to Guantanamo.\n\nFurther investigation of the destroyed phone, revealed several nude photographs from the three mothers of the three suspects that were arrested at Bob's home.\n\nAnd yet, the police didn't see Bob. The notorious Bob that'd been roaming the countryside in search of buxom beauties and married lasses. The Bob that was legally, technically, not a sex-offender because he didn't go after young kids.\n\nYes, that Bob, who was just earlier tied up and bound to a chair, yet inexplicably managed to break out.\n\nYes, that Motherfucker Bob.", "\"We want you to know Ed, no matter what, we love you.\" Said Eds mother. Ed didn't quiet get what his mother was going on about but he found sense the timbre of the room had changed. What was a small impromptu party with his wife, family and friends had suddenly turned into circle of concerned looking adults circling around him. \n\n\"Ok\" Ed said while stuffing cheesy chips into his mouth.\n\n\" We just want you to know we think your recent behavior is...... Well.... It's upsetting and unsettling and...\"\n\n\" You have to stop dressing like such a slut Ed!\" screamed Eds wife. A mix of anger and audible exhaustion left her mouth, followed by confirming nods of the party goers. \n\nEd looked around slowly with his mouth agape; not in embarrassment or anger but genuine confusion. He quickly panned down to his clothes of choice that day; khakis, a blue polo and worn tennis shoes. The kind of thing a dad who has given up would wear but hardly close to the tramp they believed he was.\n\n\" Um, I always dress like this. Mary you bought this shirt for me at Costco when I spilled the buffalo sauce...\"\n\n\" OH HOW COULD WE FORGET THE BUFFALO SAUCE INCIDENT! Rubbing those big tits with spicy, sexy red sauce. Just trying to keep all those bitches from licking it. You make me sick.\"\n\n\" .... You mean the dogs?\"\n\n\" Yes, those mongrols you always disappear with late at night and come home stinking of smoke and dog shit. I can't even imagine what you do with them...\"\n\n\" I smoke while taking them for a walk and pick up the dog shit.\"\n\n\" This is going nowhere,\" Al chimed up \" what you do in your home is your business but we know you have a problem with dressing like a normal man outside too. Stacey saw you in Walmart just flaunting your curves in that skin tight bathing suit.\"\n\n\" I mean I put on a few pounds and was muffin topping pretty hard but flaunting seems like a stretch.\"\n\n\" Funny you should mention stretch, you sure seemed intent on flashing everyone your ass as you stretched to reach your groceries. It just so happens everything you needed was on the bottom shelf huh.\"\n\n\" You told me to get a case of beer, from the floor freezer, for this party....\"\n\n\" Your worked called as well. Apparently customers are feeling uncomfortable around you when they sit at your desk.\"\n\n\" I work from home.\"\n\n\" It was your wife, she feels uncomfortable. She is claiming you created a hostile work environment. You just don't wear pants to your job most days? What have you become?\"\n\n\" I work from home.\"\n\n\" I have already spoken to HR and requested mandatory sexual harassment training.\"\n\n\" but I work from ho..... Ok. I will attend. It's clear I have made a mistake.\"\n\nEd never wore khakis again." ]	[ 1, 4, 12, 17 ]	[ "1439328310", "1439328258", "1439308914", "1439322507" ]
Your character can be an original character, a character from someone else's work, or a character based on a real life person.	[WP] Make me sympathize with the most unsympathetic character you can think of	6	[ "I can't do it.\n I can't take a vampire and layer him with all the attributes of a hero until the reader says: I wish to be a vampire too.\n \nI tried. For half an hour I thought of all the charming vampires I had seen in films, I tried to remember that they did not burn, but rather shone with a pure brilliance in the sun, they drank the blood of animals, they drank, mosquito like, enough to survive but not enough to kill.\n\nThey took the blood voluntarily...sometimes.\n\nAfter all, not all mosquitoes are harmful enough to transfer disease.\n Vampires were surely harmless.\n\nI can only see a creature that steals and in stealing it wounds.\n\n I can only envision the harmless puncturing of the vein of an unknown victim, one hemophiliac, and the vampire sated with the lifeblood of another watching what remains flow out unresisting to end a life.\n\n\n", "All his life Markus has never loved anyone. Or even liked anyone for that matter. \"They're all idiots, every last fucking one.\" he'd tell himself this daily, it wasn't uncommon for him to say that publicly either. His house looked more like an abandoned shack then a home. The yard looked been attacked rather than mowed, and the mailbox seems to have received similar treat meant. One thing Markus prided himself on is telling people that they are bad at something. Especially when they enjoy doing it. \"I don't even understand why people like you try, just give up and get a job\" he told a man playing his guitar on the corner. Most people tried to connect with him, but he'd only push them away. Everyone wonder why that was.\nBut one thing they didn't know, is that Markus wasn't always like this. The reason why Markus never invited anyone into his house was because of his paintings. These paintings were the opposite of the cruddy, ran down shack he lived in. The colors seemed to fill his whole house! Each work of art could take you to a whole new world that had it's own unique beauty. There were so many that the piled around the living room and into the kitchen. But why didn't he share them with the world? Why did he keep the world out? It can all be understood by a half finished painting that is buried in the left hand corner of his living room. It was a painting of a girl, well half of one. You see Markus had a lover once. Sidney was her name. She had warm brown hair with curls that seemed like they would never be anything less than perfect. Just like Markus she was tall and thin and had bright green eyes. Where is she at now you ask? She's gone. Ran off for another man, and left Markus behind. The note she left didn't help. She told him she needed someone who could really provide for two. Someone that had a job and didn't purse silly dreams. Someone who accepted reality and didn't try to change it. Someone who wasn't Markus. This is what left Markus cold. This is what left him hollow. This is why he gave up on his dream.", "It's all gone wrong and it's all my fault.\n\nIt wasn't just the fact that she was dead. Someone else was obviously responsible for that... but then again, maybe not. I never did hear the cause of death, after all, and as I look at her in the casket I can't see a mark on her (just the most peaceful expression I've seen on her in a long, long time) For all I know, she just gave up on living. I wouldn't blame her for it either. Watching everything you've ever done, all the work you've ever put into making things better for everyone shatter because some buffoon said the wrong thing at the worst possible time... well, ranks only slightly above being the buffoon who did the deed in the first place. Dying was probably the most merciful thing that could have happened to her.\n\nBut it couldn't be my fault, now could it? HE did it! That slimy bastard wormed his way into all of our hearts, convinced us that he was the guy we could trust! I wasn't the only one that thought putting him in charge was a good idea, I was just the one who said it first! And I don't remember her complaining a whole lot after the vote was taken... or maybe that was just her boyfriend's hand on her shoulder convincing her it was okay.\n\nWe're still a ways off from the mausoleum, and the crowd just keeps growing thicker. I take a look around, try to catch the faces. I see grief in every expression, tears in eyes that I'm not sure are actually physically capable of producing them. I hear the sobs, choking with quickened breaths; I realize they're weeping like they've got rifles pressed against their backs, seconds from execution. They know what's coming. One man looks me dead in the eye, and I can't maintain contact long enough to see if it's anger or pity I see him directing my way. Either way, he knows I'm the one who made the first call to put that man as Chancellor, the one who tripped over the detonator that has set every planet aflame and drenched every planet in blood.\n\nI look at her face one more time before the pallbearers take her into the mausoleum. Mesa so sorry.", "Grandpaw scratched at the grubby crotch of his jeans and sucked at his teeth. He held a cheap can of beer in his other hand. There were partially crushed cans littered around the patchy lawn chair he lounged in, although Grandpaw's lounging was more akin to a sullen pooling of his body. Flies buzzed around him, mostly ignored until they would alight upon his face or hands.\n\n\"What'chu want?\" he scowled and moved his scratching hand up to pick at the dingy once-white t-shirt he was wearing.\n\nThe woman standing in front of his porch was pretty in a tired way. She was wearing a cheap pastel pink pantsuit bought second hand and too much eyeliner.\n\n\"Grandpaw, it's me, Shelly.\" Her voice was tremulous but edging into confidence.\n\n\"I knowed it was you, girl, what'chu want?\" Grandpaw took a pull from his beercan with the last syllable.\n\nShelly took a step forward, her toes at the first of the two concrete steps that led up to the porch and the peeling yellow house. \"I want to talk to you about somethin', Grandpaw.\"\n\n\"Yeah? What is it?\" he asked gruffly, adding, \"there's an Eastwood on 'bout fifteen minutes.\" He took on the kind of dumb slyness of a toddler trying to wheedle an extra cookie from his babysitter then. \"'Less'n you want'a come sit on Grandpaw's lap.\" He patted at his denim thigh.\n\nThe woman pushed a lock of frosted blonde hair off of her cheek but didn't move any closer. \"Why did you do them things to us, Grandpaw? We was just kids.\"\n\nThe old man shrugged, \"'Cause that's what my daddy did to me when I was a youngun. I imagine his daddy did the same. It's what I did to yer mama 'cept she never did complain none.\" He took another drink and crumpled the can and let it drop to the porch.\n\n\"Mama killed herself, Grandpaw. She hanged herself in that same house.\" Shelly pointed at the tear soaked, bedraggled house accusingly.\n\nGrandpaw shrugged again. \"Yep, right shame it 'twas. No daddy should have to bury his little girl. Why don't you come on up here and make us some Swansons and we'll watch that Eastwood like when you was a little girl.\"\n\nShelly put a foot on the first step, her face drawn and angry. \"You raped her, Grandpaw, you raped us, me and Sarah both.\"\n\n\"Wasn't no rapin' in this house, girl, just a father takin' his justs.\"\n\nShelly raced up to him then, shoving the old man and his chair over onto the cans and porch. His mouth gaped into an \"O\" as he struck. Shelly fled and Grandpaw watched as she got into her rusting Crown Victoria and drove away. He didn't try to get up.\n\nHis hip was broken and he had wet himself. He hadn't felt pain like this since he was a little boy and his father had taken his \"justs\" for the first time. He had always made sure not to force it with his girls, the way his father had, tearing him up down there. His hand lifted up after the dust cloud behind the Crown Vic. It was the only visit he'd had in ten years or more. Nobody came out here, not even a mailman. How long would it be before they found him here, starved to death with a broken hip, unable to move his old man's unwilling body?\n\n\"Mama,\" he croaked.\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 3 ]	[ "1439325291", "1439329141", "1439345863", "1439332017" ]
	[WP] "You don't understand, it will stop at nothing."	5	[ "Laura had looked towards me, genuine fear and horror shinning in her eyes, her lips trembling as she comes close to shedding tears.\n\n\"Why does it want me so badly?\"\n\nI looked away from her as I slowly began to realize the error of my telling her that the most powerful and deadliest hybrid creation was after her because her boyfriend had been my brother and a different hybrid that had shared its power with me.\n\nIt was then that I began to realize that I, too, had been afraid, but not only for myself but for the ones I loved. I slowly began realizing that if I couldn't find a way, anyway at all, to put Sarrek down once and for all, that I would live to see everyone I care for die. At that moment and in my realization, an intense rage had begun to form itself into my mind and my heart and struggling to control it, I began to picture the monster's face in my mind.\n\n\"Sarrek wants you....because you're unknowingly in a relationship with my brother and my brother is a hybrid, as am I for that matter. It's because of this reason that he...It....will stop at nothing until it's found you and killed you to get to me and him. I give you my word, Laura..... Nothing and No-One will hurt you, as long as there's a breath in my body and as long as my power permits me, I will fight to keep you and everyone else I care for safe.\" ", "\"It will sweep across the galaxy and destroy all of us. You think he will rest? You think he will stop? This is evil....and corrupted power and nothing that we have ever faced.\"\n\"Is there even a chance to defend what we have?\"\n\"A very slim chance but oryx is no fool,if you think crota was a god? Then you'd be mistaken,oryx makes crota look like an ant in comparison......the devil himself has come for us because we have killed his son. How do you expect to stop him? \n\"Eris,do you have any plan or idea?\"\nEris walked forward and stood next to cayde. \n\"Oryx.......is the father of crota and we struck him down in cold blood. How would you feel if your child was killed in a such way? Oryx is in pain but that does not mean that he will show mercy and we ALL saw what happened to those who stand in his way. The Cabal were taken by oryx and thrush back into our reality but they weren't the same....they were changed and corrupted and forcibly given power by oryx. The Fallen and The Vex are next.\" \n\"Wait a minute how are The Vex being corrupted? They are a superpower of The Darkness themselves,able to be on the plain of space and time all together.\" Cayde asked.\nEris turned to cayde and slowly started to come closer. \"Eris,space please.\"\n\"I apologize sometimes I hear better than I see.\" She replied and continued the discussion\n\"The Vex are beings of darkness,aren't they? It does not matter,oryx can and will take them....for his army.\"\n\"An army? He's building an army?!\" Zavala exclaimed\n\"Yes an army of taken. He's going after all our enemies.\" Explained Eris\n\"Well that's good. How about we just let him do that and wipe em all out.\" Cayde asked\n\"That wouldn't be the best scenario. He would still come for us but with the whole galaxy behind him and we are only a few compared to the numbers that he might possibly have.\"replied Eris.\n\"Is it possible for him to take guardians?\" Ikora asked\n\"No,I don't even think oryx wants to take guardians. We are filled with light and oryx is a form of darkness himself,his ultimate goal....is extinction....our extinction.\" Eris replied with a heavy head and looked down.\n\"So we have a tyrannical God with unlimited power who's hot on our tail who wants nothing more than revenge and our heads on a platter,did I miss something? Cayde asked and everyone stared with a look of fear at him.\n\"No in Simplicity,you didn't.\"Eris replied sadly.\n\"Well damn I was kinda thinking I was going to be wrong. Zavala,how many guardians do we have out in the field? Asked cayde\n\"Almost all of them,why?\" Zavala answered and asked\n\"It's time to make a speech.\" Cayde replied confidently \n\"You a speech?\" Zavala chuckled\n\"Yes,get me on the line.\" Cayde said seriously\nSome time later.......\n\"Alright you're live Cayde.\" Said ikora \nCayde snapped his Exo fingers to make sure,it looked live from the feedback.\n\"Alright......this is cayde six of the hunter vanguard sending a message to all guardians. Now you're all big boys and girls so I'm going to be frank with you. Death is at our door,I know that is morbid to say but the gravity of the situation calls for it. Crota's dad,Oryx is what he's called is here and wants revenge for the death of his son. I guess sticking his son with his own sword wasn't on his list. Oryx has an army called The Taken and some of you may have had run ins with him and some of you that haven't. Do not underestimate them, they aggressive,calculating,and nothing like we've ever faced.\" Cayde took a long pause and thought about his next word.\n\"Oryx's gameplan is our utter extinction whether we all have a grasp at what that means or not,he means to kill us all. All of this might seem huge and he might seem impossible to defeat but we stopped Atheon and Crota and even Skolas of the House of Wolves,why is Oryx any different from them? I will not lay down and die while Oryx rolls over us and takes what we hold dear. I don't expect a lot of us to make it out alive and I don't either but that's the sacrifice I'm willing to make to send this bastard back to where he came from. Show them what we got guardians,show them the power of the light and give em hell.\" Cayde finished and moved to the hanger.\n\"Did you mean all that?\" Ikora asked\nCayde turned around \"Yeah I did,I don't expect to make it but we all get taken out at one point it might as well be for a reason.\"\nZavala looked at Cayde with a affirming smile and then looked back at the rest of the vanguard. \n\"Well like the Exo said......let's give em hell.\"\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1439427090", "1439434355" ]
	[WP] The entire world loses all its WiFi, except for one place. Your body is the only WiFi hot-spot on the planet.	308	[ "\tIt just happened one night. I woke up at 7 to get ready for work just like any other day. I checked my emails, no new one since I checked the night before. I hope in the shower, listen to Pandora, and head to the kitchen to eat some breakfast. I head out to my car to head to work when I start to notice something different. \n\n\tOne of my neighbors was standing outside his car, looking puzzled at a map spread across the hood of his car. I start to drive to work, and see a few cars pulled over with more people looking at maps. I checked my phone to see if I have any emails again, however there still was none. This was extremely odd as I know my colleagues get in a hour before me to straighten out any issues that arose overnight, which they were supposed to send me an update 15 minutes ago. \n\n\tI pull into my parking spot and notice a few empty spots near me. I walk into the office, but I see complete chaos. The receptionist is running across offices, the IT team is working on the main computers, mainly the ones directly attached to the internet. I walk up to Red, our head IT, and ask him what is going on? \n\t\n\tRed looks up at me when he answers, \"Internet's been down all morning. We are trying to get it back on.\" He looks back down at the computer and exclaims, \"Hey guys, I have internet over here!\" \n\n\tHalf the office comes running to Red, almost knocking him over to get access to the internet. I back away, heading over to my office on the other side of the building. \"No! It's already gone!\" I hear from behind me. \n\t\n\tI get to my desk and see that my internet is working fine. I send a few emails from yesterday that I never got to, and let my assistant, Carol, know that if she needs to use the internet, it seems to be working in my office. She walks in with her laptop and is shocked by that fact. \"The internet is down everywhere,\" Carol says, \"I almost didn't get to work on time today because my normal alarm clock is on my computer through the internet. Thank goodness my husband still believes in analog clocks to wake him up, or else I would be in the same boat as everyone that isn't here yet.\"\n\n\t\"That's really weird,\" I say, scratching my chin. \"I had internet all morning.\"\n\n\t\"Maybe you're just lucky. You've turned into your own hot spot,\" She joked. \n\n\tI continue my work, but can't help but look online as to what is going on, but I notice nothing has been updated since yesterday, and by nothing, I mean nothing. No news, no Facebook, not even Reddit has had any action. \n\n\t\"Carol,\" I ask, \"Can you get the TV from the break room and bring it in here? I want to see what the news says about this internet problem.\"\n\n\t\"No problem boss!\" She said, getting out of under her laptop and walking out of the office. A few minutes later, she wheels in the TV, but has a couple other people following her in, carrying their own laptops.\n\n\t\"Hey boss, I have the TV, but a few people in other departments need to access the internet as well. Do you mind if they stay?\"\n\n\t\"Not at all,\" I said, \"As long as I can hear the news, you can use the internet all you want.\" \n\n\tCarol turns the TV on for me, switching it to channel 5. The news is in the middle of the weather, so I check my email again, still nothing. The news transfers back to the main anchors.\n\t\n\t\"For those of you just tuning in, there is a global internet outage. Specialists across the globe are currently working on diagnosing the problem, however if anyone has any internet access, please contact the Department of Homeland Security at the number listed below.\"\n\n\tI didn't understand why Homeland Security would be involved with this, but I guess they want internet just as much as the next guy. \n\n\t\"Hey,\" said one of the temps who came into the office, \"We should call that number. Maybe they will figure out why this office has internet and no where else does!\"\n\n\t\"Hey kid,\" I say, \"Do you want to continue working in this building or do you want the government to come in here, kick us out of our own company, and use our internet access for themselves? Because as soon as we say we have access, they will come here and use the web as if they worked in the building from the start.\" I stare into his eyes and say, \"Get whatever you need on the internet done, and get back to your office.\"\n\n\tI write a few more emails, though now I feel it is futile if no one else can read them, so I go down to the cafeteria for lunch. There's a lot more people sitting down here than normal, most waiting in line for the register. The cashier looks very flustered, so I walk up to her to see if she needs any help. \n\n\t\"Oh no thank you,\" She answers. \"We've been having problems all day with this POS machine. Since it's hooked up to the internet for the costs associated with each item, I have to input all the data manually instead.\" She looks back at her machine and does a double take. \"It's back!\" She exclaims. \"I gotta hurry through these before it goes again. Thanks boss, you seem to be my lucky charm,\" She says with a quick flash of a smile before going back to work. \n\t\t\n\tI continue through the room, many people looking at their phones, hoping for a sign, or a bar in this case. I walk over to a few of them, when I hear, \"It's back!\" from next to me. I keep going and hear the same person say, \"Oh no, it's gone again....\" I become a little confused by all of this happening, so I walk back near that person again and I hear, \"There it is again! Yes, I can finally do this download!\"\n\n\tI decide something fishy is going on, so I move over to a different group of people. I hear collectively sad oh's from the people that I just left, and a few yes's from the people I am near. I have a weird feeling about this. \n\n\tI head back up to my office, seeing everyone has left. I look for Carol at her desk and ask her to come into my office. \"Carol,\" I say, \"Something odd is happening. Was there internet in here once I left?\" \n\n\t\"No,\" She answers. \"As soon as you hit the elevator, all the internet went down again. I guess you really are the internet hub,\" She answered jokingly. \n\n\t\"Thanks Carol,\" I respond. \"Please cancel all my meetings today. I'm got something important I have to do outside of the office.\"\n\n\t\"Ok boss!\" She goes back to her desk and starts making phone calls as I go back to the elevator and head towards the main lobby. The receptionist still is frantic, trying to help everyone without the help of the internet. I continue outside to my car. \n\n\tI get to my car, open the door, when I am suddenly surrounded by cops, and these cops have guns. Not just the normal hand guns, but I mean AK-47s and Carbon 15s. I lay on the ground when I get my head covered in a sack. All I hear before I get in the car is \"Hey guys, it's back!\"\n\n*****************************************\n\n\tI wake up attached to machines. My arms and legs are strapped down, but I'm alive. I have an IV through my left arm and what looks like a Ethernet cord put through my right. \"What's going on?\" I ask. \"Is anyone there?\"\n\n\t\"Hello Tina,\" I hear a woman say behind me. \"You are safe. You are in the White House.\" The lady moves in front of me so I can see her face.\n\n\t\"The White House? Why am I here? And why am I restrained?\" I ask, pulling at my arm straps.\n\n\t\"Well, to be frank, the government needed your help. You are currently the only access throughout the world to the internet, so, for the greater good of America, you were brought here. We had specialists take a look at you, where they found out if they plug you in,\" gesturing to the cord in my arm, \"We can access your WiFi throughout the entire capitol! The science behind it is truly fascinating.\"\n\n\t\"But what about me?\" I ask. \"What will happen to me?\"\n\n\tShe looked at me with knowing eyes. \"Well,\" she said, \"We have created an apartment for you to stay at here. As long as you keep that plug in and stay in this room, you are free to do what you will.\" With that, she walked over to me, removed the IV, walked out of the room, closed the door behind her. I heard a dead bolt being turned, and then my bindings unlocked. I stood up, walked over to the computer in the room, only to find I have no internet access.\n", "“You goin’ camping or somethin?”\n\n“Something like that.”\n\n“At 3AM?”\n\nYou don’t answer. The cashier woman continues to chew her gum with lipstick-stained teeth, scanning the 7th can of store brand refried beans. The massive pile of non-perishable food items, batteries, matches, and lighter fluid inches closer on the belt. \n\n“Seems like a lot for one person.”\n\n “I’m going with friends.”\n\nThe last time you spoke to your friends, it was to tell them that they would never see you again. That was years ago. \n\n“We used to take the kids campin’ up at Lake Arrowhead ‘round summertime,” she blows a bubble and lets it pop before continuing, “Now they refuse to leave the house.”\n\n“Probably grew out of it.” You notice your hands are growing noticeably sweaty. You try to indicate the end of the conversation by feigning interest in the rack of tabloids.\n\nPOPE CALLS WIFI DISAPPEARANCE A BLESSING, “GOD WANTS US TO MAKE REAL CONNECTIONS”\n\nThat didn’t help. You flip it over. On the back, there’s a Verizon ad:\n\nTHE END OF WIFI IS NOT THE END OF WIRELESS. 3G PLANS STARTING AS LOW AS $5,000 A MONTH\n\n“I’m telling you, it’s cause kids these days are addicted to the Internet.”\n\nYou weren’t listening. In your peripherals, you could’ve sworn you saw someone else in the store. But there shouldn’t be anyone here at this hour. That was exactly why you came.\n\nAs the cashier goes on about camping, you catch a glimpse of him. A man in dark clothing, approaching your aisle. Clothing that looked an awful lot like the uniforms that those men wore. The ones who tried to take you away.\n\n“I tell ya, if the world ever gets its WiFi back, the first thing I’m gonna do is get it rigged up in that old RV. You bet your ass my kids will come camping with me then.” \n\nHe’s right behind you now. He’s cradling a blue Powerade and microwavable mac n’ cheese. Thank God. It’s only a stoner. \n\nBut just to play it safe…\n\n“I’m kinda in a rush. Can I pay for this and go?”\n\nHalf of your groceries are still on the belt. The woman stares at you, “You tellin me to put all that back?”\n\nThe stoner, growing impatient with the scene in front of him, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.\n\nThere isn’t much time.\n\n“I’m sorry, really,” You unfold the wad of twenties you had balled up in your fist and toss them at her. They’re damp with sweat.\n\n “This is more than-\n\n“Holy. Shit.” \n\nYou both turn to the stoner. He is staring at his phone in disbelief. \n\n“Dude. It’s a signal. I…I’m getting a WiFi signal.”\n\nYour stomach drops.\n\nAs if on cue, the cashier checks her phone.\n\n“Lord Almighty, it’s back.”\n\n“That’s impossible,” you say. It’s what your parents said when you first told them. Back in the days when you thought it was safe to tell people. \n\n“Then what do you call that?” The cashier shoves her phone in your face. You already know what you’re going to see. \n\nThere it is, your first name, the name you can never tell a soul, clear and bright on the backlit screen. You’re emitting a fairly strong signal. Not bad, considering how nauseous you feel at the moment. \n\n“It looks like it needs a password,” You mutter as you fumble for your bags. \n\n\n“Jesus, you gotta be kidding me.”\n\nBy the time she has started guessing, you’re already out the door. \n\nTomorrow, there will be headlines. It won’t be safe here. You’ll pack up camp and head deeper into the woods. When it comes time to buy supplies, you’ll find a new town with a new store.\n\nOf course you’ll get caught eventually. It’s only a matter of time. They’ve already taken everything from you, and they won’t stop until they’ve got the one thing you have that no one else does. \n\nWhen they do come, you won’t let them take your gift. They can’t. They don’t know the password. \n\nAnd neither do you. ", "It was all over the news. No wifi, anywhere. I sat on my sofa, eating pop tarts. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, a message flashed across the screen. It was from my neighbor. \n\n'Dude! I found a wi-fi point, no lock. It was called Mark Kernel, so I thought you would know about it.' I certainly did not know about it. I looked down at my arm. Three green dots, two of them bleeping. I was a wifi hotspot.\n\nIt was no surprise that the media found out. Later that day the first media outlet showed up, the next 20 more, this happened for a while until I had enough. I had become a pilgrimage, now living in a museum of sorts, detailing the internet. I was the selling point, you could actually view the internet, which had been in a frozen state since the museum was founded. Nobody could post, nobody could edit, they had locked everything. Lately, someone had been leaving clues that they could pass the code, post new things. First it was new reddit posts appearing, then 4chan. \n\nThere was one post that really grabbed my attention. It was a reddit post. Once I saw it, I knew what I had to do. It just said ' Texas. Border. Just you Mark.' Poof. It was gone. Hopefully they will not hurt me. Maybe they will tell me why. My name is Mark. I am WiFi. I will find out why and how.", "\"Just let me plug in!\"\n\nFuck off. Living with Jamal has become a real pain in the ass since he stopped going to work because not only am I preparing his food, I'm providing his food without expense. The only kicker of our relationship is by some means he is paying the rent, and most importantly our not-so-much-of-a-godsend Comcast Uvere Internet that randomly goes from 15 mpbs to .5 mbps: truly bipolar, just like Jamal. He's been bugging lately expressing that he read on some site called Yettit that he could get faster speeds if he ran a cord halfway across our apartment living space. Yeah, what happens when Teresa comes over and her crutch takes out your LAN connection now? Not happening because I value Teresa ten times, if not infinetly more than leaving this apartment more of an embarassing and cluttered space. I can only deal with so much, and patience is by no means a virtue I keep dear to my heart: I'm a hot head.\n\n\"You want to starve, cocksucker? I can do that if I see a yellow cord running anywhere along the walkspace to your shitsmelling room. No is no - get a Laptop already!\"\n\nHe is out of control.\n\n\"Laptops are SHIT, I keep telling you this, girl - WiFi is SHIT and is why I can't ever get a good game of League of Legends. If I had STABLE internet, I could actually win my promotions to platinum without tilting because I can't control my character! Just. Let. ME!\"\n\nIf this is the way he treats other people, just imagine how others in that game must be like. I feel like the real victim here because I've got to cope with this shit everyday I come home.\n\n\"Fuck. No! \"\n\nI actually punched the wall. It did nothing to the wall, except make him slide back in his swivel chair to get a proper look at me through the tiny crack in the doorway he elected to have instead of coming to speak face to face about his 'issues'. Maybe if he did that, I would take it seriously.\n\n\"Yo, don't be hitting that god damn WALL! I'm not paying to have it fixed, you HEAR?!\"\n\nHe actually raised his voice at me. Like I could actually leave a dent on that wall? I slapped my hand against the wall as I watched him straggle about in his room in uncertainty of whether or not he wanted to leave to speak with me. I need to pressure him to get what I want. It worked.\n\n\"What did I fucking say, look, I'm in a ranked game, you have to knock this shit off right now or I'm going to- \"\n\nThe lights dimmed, and flickered along with the alarms within the housing from security systems to electrical appliances.\n\n\"Aw SHIT, always bad TIMING! Fuck SAKE my team is going to REPORT ME!\"\n\nThe power returned within a few moments, and as did my interest in seeing this matter through because his frustration is amusing to watch in an odd way. Maybe I'm a bit of a sadist and I can't come to terms with it, but I just like to watch him struggle when it's so easy to trigger him. Whatever, I need to check Facebook. The growling coming from the chasm of our walkway diminished as I laid myself down on the one good couch we had. I laid there, and looked through my phone. Strangely enough, 4g seemed to be down because after the minutes of mumbling a strange silence could be felt linger in the house. Maybe it's because Jamal is staring at the computer, waiting in anticipation for it to load after running out of cusses to say about how 'unlucky' he is.\n\n\"Hey, Jess, shouldn't the internet be on by now?\" he said in a less-forced, almost genuinely concerned type of way that he only truly uses when he's speaking with his mother on the phone. You know, thinking about it now, it has been about 20 minutes since power had turned back on after that flicker. \n\n\"Wait, nevermind, did our Router rename itself to J E S S - Jess, and it's open? What did I say about touching my shit? Most importantly, you OPENED the network up to the public? You trying to get the NSA in on my shit?!\" \n\nI had no idea what to say, but an idea came to mind to get him off my back when I try to think of a funny joke to text to Teresa.\n\n\"Don't you got a Legends League game to finish?\"\n\n\"Shit, yeah.. Fuck you, though, for real. If this some joke, nah... - not COOL!\" I could hear him slap his hand down on his mouse from out here like an echo through some chasm. Except, since it's a mouse he probably slammed, it would be a squeak. Yeah, girls can be good at making jokes, too!\n\n\"Yo, this is weird. All my teammates are disconnected. The fuck? Nah, No argument from me - give me that free LP bruddah'!\" \n\nHe laughed manically. Still, no response from Teresa. She's usually quite a fast texter, but maybe she's going somewhere. She can't walk and text like everyone else, since she is handicapped and uses crutches. I can't expect too much from her. But finally, a message:\n\n\"Jess, the internet isn't working. Who's your provider?\"\n\nComcast, but who cares if I'm not even paying for it. I want to watch television. I switch it on, and instead of a reality tv show, I'm faced with a middle age man tight-fitted in a suit and a disappointed look on his face with a scrolling banner that says \"Internet is reported to be down in these locations\" followed by the very same man discussing the scale of this supposed phenomena. Is this for real? When will it be back?\n\n\"Yo, Jess, I'm Platinum now - Wussup! Give me five - Yo didn't know you were into the news, 'less this is one of those parody shows. Shit, what is he saying?\"\n\n\"The internets' out across the country.\"\n\n\"But ours is working just fine.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, Jamal?\"\n\n\"Look, I'll show you, I'm in queue right now, but we'll load onto my site I hadn't checked out today, yeah.\"\n\nBy his site he means world star hip hop. I have no idea what the attraction is for this site to even begin with. Like, who visits it? Except this time when it seems apparent to what we can assume is fact, there it was a loaded web page and video of an unknown rapper victimizing my ears with his bad singing that even auto tuning couldn't fix. \n\n\"Can you check Yahoo, CNN to confirm that this is true?\"\n\n'Yeah, I mean, I don't go to those sites, but alright girl let me type 'em in. Nope, nothing on either - look.\"\n\nThat's when it got to me. If they don't have access to the internet, how can they change their website.\n\n\"I don't think they can change it.\"\n\n\"Shit, you're right. So you think we actually had good internet the whole time? For real, I'm lucky for once? Dang. Weird, I can't log into the router and make it protected. You did this, right?\"\n\n\"No, I didn't. I wouldn't know how to anyways.\"\n\n\"Check the router.\"\n\nI stepped over to the router, and as I turned to him from down the hall, his mouth seemed to open.\n\n\"Come back over here, actually.\"\n\nI came closer to him, uncertain of what he is going on about.\n\n\"Nah go back...\"\n\nI stop, midway, uncertain what he is going on about\n\n\"To the router?\"\n\nI og back to the router. \n\n\"You have a pocket wifi on you, or something? The packets I'm sending, and the little bars on the Wifi get tinier when you walk further away. But I can't seem to get access to the router. I don't think it is our router I'm linked to. \"\n\n\"Then what are you connected to?\"\n\n\"You, and this time - I don't think I will be needing to hook you up to my computer to make the most of this predicament.\" \n", "SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT\n\nI leap a barrel and slide under some piping, hiding there for a moment. I can hear there footsteps behinds me, the hoard as I now tend to think of it.\n\nIt was the kids. When the wifi dropped out the adults just went back to using ethernet cables and carried on with their lives, but the kids couldn't grasp the concept. \"A wire?\" one had said \"I don't get it\". I think the loss of internet had lowered their collective IQ around 50 points.\n\nThe footsteps grew closer \"He must've ran into that warehouse, I have some signal over here!\". I take a deep breath and slide out of my hiding place. I hate how easily they can track me. I make it out the back door just as they enter the front, but they see me go. \n\"Guys he just went out the back!\" \n\"Hey my cat picture uploaded!\"\n\nRunning down a back alley I come to a low fence. Six months ago I wouldn't have been able to climb it, but after running so long I vault straight over it. I slow to get my breath back and emerge from the other end of the alley. The hoard is there.\n\nMaybe 300 kids are staring at me, none of them look older than 17. If you've ever walked down the street, seen some hoodies and felt a bit scared to walk past them... magnify it by a thousand and then arm them all with mobile phones and laptops.\n\nNone of them move. I'm still breathing heavily.\n\n\"He's not running, the wifi signal is dropping out. Get him!\"\n\nSHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT\n\nI make for a gap in the crowd, as they start to mob me, whacking me with their phones to motivate me to run. Oh god.\n\nI sprint up the road and the crowd follows me at a jog, uploading selfies of them running, their fitness statistics and tweeting each other a meme about bears.\n\nWell at least one thing has come out of this.\n\nThe childhood obesity epidemic is over.", "They were all crowding around me. All with devices in their hands: phones, tablets, phablets, laptops - even a couple of dudes at the back with desktop computers. And, unbelievably, someone had brought their toilet to sit on while he scrolled his phone. I was wondering how the bloody hell he'd got it here before, for the umpteenth time, someone asked me, \"What's the password?\"\n\n\"For fuck's sake,\" I said, \"For the last bloody time, it's 1234.\"\n\nI'd narrowed in on the teenager who asked just as he was opening his mouth for the next statement.\n\n\"You know that's a low-strength password, right?\" he asked, oblivious to the fact that my rage was about to overflow.\n\nAs soon as I saw red the crowd suddenly let out a huge collective groan. \n\n\"WiFi's not working,\" said the kid, tapping away.\n\n\"Well sooorry,\" I replied, laying on the sarcasm thick. \"It's not my fault. I still don't know why I'm a WiFi hotspot.\"\n\nThe collective grumbling and mumbling slowly built to a loud roar. People were pissed. A few had obviously had their porn videos stopped premature of the climax, while others had websites cut out mid-load. There were a few that were smart and had spent their time being connected to download* what they wanted - but they were few and far between.\n\nPeople started shouting in angst, but one voice sounded over them all.\n\nIt was that fucking kid.\n\n\"What if we turn him off and turn him on again?\" He'd finally looked up from his tablet. His most striking feature, funnily enough, was a bowl cut. \n\n\"You really are an idiot - I'm a fucking human being,\" I said.\n\n\"It's worth a shot,\" he replied. \n\nThat, funnily enough, seemed to strike a chord with the crowd. \n\n\"Yeah!\" someone said. \"Turn him off and turn him on again!\"\n\n\"Yeah right guys,\" I laughed, \"Good luck with that.\"\n\nThe crowd seemed to digest these words and it simmered with them for thirty second.\n\nThen the kid - that fucking kid - let out a war cry I though was incapable for his weedy body and the mob followed suit. The roar was raised; the crowd rushed forward. Bodies pushed in on me from all sides. Oxygen seemed to leave me. I gasped and screamed and screamed but soon enough someone clubbed me on the head and all I saw next was black.", "I woke up to exaggerated moaning and looked over to see my roommate crouched down by my bed, his face illuminated by his laptop.\n\n\"Are you jerking it?\" I said\n\n\"No\" he said after a pause that meant he was.\n\n\"The signal reaches your bed\"\n\n\"It even works out in the hall\" said someone from the hall\n\n\"Yeah I have a full signal out here\" said someone else\n\n\"I only have a half signal\" said a third person\n\n\"Ok but I'm already kind of doing my thing here sooooo….\" said my roommate\n\nI sighed and rolled over.\n\n…\n\nIn class the teacher drones as various joints jab into my body. No matter how often I tell them, people never seem to realize how far the signal reaches.\n\nNot that I should complain. The school pays me to take certain classes. Not a lot of money, definitely way less than setting up a shit ton of ethernet cables, but still, money.\n\n\"Ah man the signals out\" this happens sometimes, I have no control over it. They don't know this and they seem unwilling to learn.\n\n\"Just give it a second\" I said\n\n\"Remember when you could just turn things on and off again?\" said someone behind me\n\n\"Well we could still technically do that\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"Well we could just knock him out\"\n\n\"Please don't\" I said as a heavy textbook crashed into the back of my head and everything went dark.\n\nWater splashed against my face and I sat up breathing heavily. I was on the floor at the front of the class. Everyone was looking at me.\n\n\"Signals back up\" \n\nI sighed and lay back down again.\n\n…\n\nI was walking towards the campus clinic when a van screeched to a stop in front of me. The panel door slid open and a guy in a mask aimed a shotgun at me.\n\n\"I actually just look like the wifi guy\" I said before he fired.\n\nA beanbag round hit me in the head, knocking me to the ground.\n\n\"You're not supposed to shoot him in the head, it might fuck up the wifi\" said the driver\n\n\"Right\" said the gunman. He got out of the van and walked over to me, aiming the shotgun at me.\n\n\"Just give it a second…\" I said before he fired a bean bag round into my gut and I passed out.\n\n…\n\nI woke up in a cheap motel room. I sat up rubbing my head and looked around. Someone was sitting at the desk on a computer.\n\n\"Sorry about that\"\n\n\"Where am I\"\n\n\"Probably best you don't know. And done\"\n\n\"Great\" said the gunman rising from the corner with the shotgun.\n\n\"Is that really necessary\" I said as he fired it at my head knocking me off the bed\n\n\"Was that necessary?\" said the computer guy\n\n\"Now that I think about it probably not\"\n\n…\n\nThe panel door slides open and they toss me out onto the sidewalk in front of my dorm room.\n\n\"Your government thanks you\" said the gunman\n\n\"We'll be in touch\" said the driver\n\n\"No that's ok\" I mumble into the sidewalk as they peel off.\n\nI lay there for a minute then forced myself up and went back to my room and fell face down on the bed.\n\nThere was a knock on the door.\n\n\"What\" I said.\n\n\"I saw you were tossed out of a van. Did the government take your wifi away?\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Awesome\"\n\nAcross the room I heard my roommate open his computer." ]	[ 1, 1, 5, 10, 11, 30, 286 ]	[ "1439470858", "1439476156", "1439469543", "1439466531", "1439468112", "1439456217", "1439437545" ]
	[WP] Deep sea explorers have found the sunken city of R'lyeh, and cracked open the temple doors. Inside awaits Cthulhu, who's rather wide awake and preoccupied with something...	26	[ "Lights pierced through the murky gloom as we dove ever further down the Marina Trench. Harold scanned the sonar screen, and Captain Jim was calm. I, on the other hand, felt like the hula girl on the sub's control board: watched.\n\nC. Jim and Harold didn't seem to notice the presence that I felt. They seemed completely oblivious.\n\nI don't know how they couldn't feel it.\n\nIt was when I was about to bring it up that we began the final descent. I couldn't bring it up then - it required the utmost concentration to find a spot to rest the sub, as well as actually settling it.\n\nWe descended to the area shown on the sonar to be a clearing of rock, but there wasn't anything to hit. We couldn't see anything to tell us for sure, but I can tell you now that we went below the bottom of the Mariana Trench. Harold and C. Jim don't remember it, but I do.\n\nThey fell unconscious once we passed the non-existent barrier. The aboveground medics didn't find any drugs in their system or any marks on their heads, but I can tell you why they slept.\n\nThey did not believe in the Old One, the One who lived at the bottom of the sea. (Well, ocean, but sea sounds more poetic) \nThe One that allowed me to live.\n\nFifty feet below the facade, the sub touched ground. I tried to wake up the Captain and Harold, but neither of them stirred. At that point, I broke protocol and set out on my own in the depth suit. The only thing that kept me from getting lost in the dark was a cable and a specialized sonar display.\n\nI had barely taken five steps from the sub before I found an archway. An archway! Mikes below the surface, an archway to a city. I wandered for what must have been hours, just exploring the place.\n\nEventually, though, I found myself drawn to the watcher, to the One. I was terrified every step of the way, but my curiosity drove me on. \nI really need some common sense.\n\nWhen I found the One, I was awed. Xie was in a lower form of Xis true glory, taking on a form that my mortal mind could handle. Xie was amazing, nonetheless.\n\nI watched in awe for a time of which I lost count, just watching Xim at Xis activity. There wasn't a single mistake, not a single error.\n\nI had never before, and have never since, seen someone play Guitar Hero so well.", "EDIT: NSFW\n\n[Recovered from the wreckage of the USS Hastur, film dated for 18 August 2016. The radio contact from the Hastur has been identified as one David Gamble, an electrical engineer in the field for the University of Florida. The divers are marine biologist Scarlet Trem and geologist Mark Richards.]\n\n[Begin transcript.]\n\n[Snow, white snow, that eventually dissipates into a darkness tinged with blue. A headlamp shines its way across the camera, and we can see, momentarily, the face of Scarlet Trem: pale skin through a leathery diving mask, with a tattoo under her left eye of a nautical star. After the brief moment of clarity, her body becomes a silhouette backlit by the headlamp of Richards, who swims behind her. They each wave to the camera, their bodies fuzzy and dark.]\n\nTrem: You've got control of the Diving Bot now, Gamble?\n\nGamble [via a radio]: Yes, ma'am. The signal's pretty decent, too.\n\nTrem: Good. This is Scarlet Tem, on expedition for the Tierney Historical Society. I am joined by my associate, Mark Richards. \n\nRichards [seemingly imitating a bit from Seinfield]: Hello!\n\nGamble: Good, I can hear you both clearly.\n\nTrem: Awesome. We are here due to the recent unearthing of a large mass of something sitting atop the Cocos plate, off the coast of Mexico. The Tierney Historical Society has funded this expedition because they believe that the mass is actually the ruins of an ancient city, perhaps of Aztec origin though quite possibly even older than that civilization. Our mission is to accompany the Diving Bot through the mass and make out what we can of the area. Have you already turned on the night vision lens, Gamble?\n\nGamble: Oops. There we go.\n\n[Now the bodies of Trem and Richards are lit in a bluish green. Trem shakes her head, and looks to Richards, who shrugs. Behind them, something creeps through the waters, but as it comes into focus, the viewer can see that it is vegetation growing up from the floor of the ocean.]\n\nRichards: All right, let's get on with this.\n\nTrem: Sure.\n\n[The two divers turn and begin swimming deeper. They get out of the range of the camera for a second or two, but then the Diving Bot churns and starts to follow.]\n\nGamble: How cold is it down there, guys?\n\nTrem: Cold. Our suits do an alright job of masking it, though.\n\nRichards: Speak for yourself. My balls have turned into the pits of olives.\n\nTrem [laughing]: So they've actually gotten bigger, eh?\n\n[As the two divers plunge further, the \"mass\" begins to come into view of the camera. At first, all that can be seen is what appears to be a relatively smooth surface shrouded in darkness. A school of fish surrounds an area in the distance, and scatters before the divers are even aware of them. The viewer begins to see the tendrils of more vegetation rising up from the mass, and after a few more moments, lines can be made out along the mass, lines that appear like a twisted little maze, only larger, much larger, so large that it seems like a labyrinth of hallways. Several moments after the viewer can make out what they see, the divers gasp in shock.]\n\nRichards: Holy fuck!\n\nTrem: Wow!\n\nRichards: I did not expect this at all. Did you?\n\nTrem: No. I’ve never seen anything like it.\n\nRichards: It’s an entire city, I think.\n\nTrem: How old would this be?\n\n[A long pause.]\n\nTrem: Richards?\n\nRichards: What’s that?\n\nTrem: I said, how old would this be?\n\nRichards: I’m not sure. Something...old, Trem. This has to be older than anything the Aztecs ever did. To be preserved in this manner...The whole shelf must have fallen flatly, to be like this.\n\nTrem: Huh.\n\nRichards: There’s never been a sign of something damaging the coast east of Mexico. Not during the time of man.\n\nTrem: Gamble!\n\nGamble: Yes?\n\nTrem: You’re able to see this?\n\nGamble: Yes, Trem. I can probably see it better than you guys can. This is astounding.\n\nTrem: Any notable parts you think we should head toward.\n\n[Fourteen seconds pass]\n\nGamble: There seems to be a structure ahead and to the left of you guys, about four hundred yards.\n\nTrem: Lead us in with the Bot.\n\nGamble: Got it.\n\n[A pause, and then the Diving Bot takes point, pushing itself past the divers. A sea turtle can be seen in the distance, on the upper boundary of the Bot’s field of vision.]\n\nRichards: This [INAUDIBLE].\n\nTrem: There is really too much of this for two people and a Bot to handle, Richards.\n\nRichards: Yeah, I imagine we’re going to have company here over the new few months. I can’t imagine Tierney has enough money to keep this going on their own.\n\nTrem: [INAUDIBLE] breaks [INAUDIBLE].\n\nGambles: Guys, I’m getting a bit of static on the line. Try to keep the conversation to a minimum for a bit, until we can get to a stationary position.\n\nTrem: Ten-four.\n\n[The Bot dives further, revealing what seems to be a single-storey stone structure roughly 800 feet wide. The viewer by now would be aware that the building has been identified by the University of Florida as [REDACTED], and is the focus of the ongoing trial between the American and Mexican governments over formal boundaries.]\n\n[At this point, Gamble locates a door through the viewfinder of the Bot. As he attempts to navigate toward it, the Bot’s feed cuts into snow.]\n\nGamble: I’ve lost visual, guys.\n\nRichards: That’s alright, Gamble, we can see the door.\n\nTrem: We’ll wait a few moments and see if it comes back up again. Mark, can you make out the writing along the perimeter of the door.\n\n[LONG PAUSE.]\n\nRichards: To be honest, I don’t think it is writing. It seems to be just geometric shapes to me.\n\nTrem [Quietly.]: Why did we even bring a geologist on this?\n\nRichards: Why did we bring a biologist, for that matter? You think we’re going to find some new species down here? Everything we’ve seen is rock, at least.\n\nTrem: Fair enough.\n\nGamble: The feed’s back up, guys.\n\n[The viewfinder reveals a set of stone doors outlined by markings. Each door appears to be roughly six feet in width, and about eight feet tall. Like Richards had pointed out, the markings do not appear to be writings, but rather spirals, triangles, and other geometric shapes. Richards is attempting to shoulder his way into the door, but it doesn’t appear to be budging.]\n\nGamble: Stop that, Richards. We don’t know what’s in there, and the feed’s bad enough as it is. I don’t need to add stone slab to the list of things sitting between us.\n\nRichards: Good point. Sorry, Gamble. I just want to know what this is!\n\nTrem: It’s a temple.\n\nRichards [Pausing, turning toward Trem.]: What.\n\nTrem: A...temple.\n\nRichards: How the hell would you know that?\n\nTrem: I don’t, but this place is old. Everything I’ve ever read about ancient civilizations boils down to two things: food, and religion. This would be an awfully large bazaar, and there’s no reason they would have put it inside of a building. It’s got to be a temple.\n\n[At this point, a tentacle begins to creep across the top of the door.]\n\nGamble: Richards, an octopus is behind you!\n\n[Richards turns, and swims backwards away from the creature.]\n\nRichard: Holy shit! Ah, man, I love these things!\n\nTrem: They are fascinating. Come here, little guy.\n\n[Trem swims closer to the creature, and two of its tentacles reach out to her as she nears.]\n\nRichard: Do they ink?\n\nTrem: Oh, yeah. This one seems a bit curious, though, so as long as we don’t disturb him, he probably won’t…\n\n[At this point, Trem begins screaming, as two humanoid arms reach out from around the octopus. The creature rotates itself in the water, and seems to transform on the viewfinder. What was the octopus becomes a naked human with an octopus for its head. One arm grabs Trem, while the other puts a finger over its own face, in the same way one would gesture to silence someone.]\n\nRichards: Trem! Trem, calm down!\n\nTrem: What the fuck! What the fuck!\n\n[Suddenly, the octopoid pulls Trem in closer, and the creature’s tentacles surround Trem’s head. She screams and flails for a few seconds, as the scene in the viewfinder succumbs to a cloud of ink.]" ]	[ 2, 6 ]	[ "1439483282", "1439447535" ]
She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, соνered with her blue silk scarf.	[WP]Use this passage about a girl in Starbucks with a hidden bloody knife and silk scarf to write a story	12	[ "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. She glanced down at it, eyeing the maroon purse beside its blade. It had been almost fifteen minutes since she’d tried to check her makeup, ten minutes since she’d blindly applied her mascara. For all she knew, she’d completely missed her eyes and drawn swastikas all over her own forehead with the black-hued brush. She needed to check, needed to plunge her hand into the bag and grab for the mirror. She needed to be sure she wasn’t inadvertently advertising herself as a Nazi in a SoHo Starbucks. Yet the danger, the unparalleled sharpness of the blade, it was too much of a risk.\n\nSarah glanced back up at Harry, his thin, gel-twirled mustache the least hipster thing about him. No, that was established by the way his oversized, thick framed, glassless-glasses sat a few inches too low his nose, the way he wore what appeared to be his newborn sister’s skinny jeans, the way his beard poofed out from his deceptively weak jaw. Still, he was incredibly attractive, even while he spoke about how little he enjoyed the taste of meat and how much he preferred riding fixed-gear bicycles. It was hardly the worst blind date she’d been on. Although, if she’d unintentionally been presenting herself as a Nazi—and had Harry not been the least bit offended—than perhaps it would soon be on its way to the top of the list.\n\nGlancing back at the purse on the floor, the bloodied knife buried beside it under the blue, silk scarf, Sarah sighed heavily. That knife, that disguised weapon, it was the only thing standing in her way. She just wanted to check her mascara, make sure she’d circled her eyes and not somehow deviated from the path and constructed two interlocking lines across the middle of her forehead like Charles Manson considering tattoos. Just one glance, that’s all she’d need. A simple reach and a bit of careful navigation, she’d be fine. She just wouldn’t cut herself on the blade this time, would take her time while reaching in and not inadvertently stab herself. It would be simple, elementary even. She’d just carefully maneuver her hand into the bag, grab the mirror, and not cut her entire arm during the process. Sarah leaned forward and plunged her hand blindly into the depths of the purse, the knife beside it immediately grinding up against the flesh of her left.\n\n“Oh fuck,” Sarah shouted, thrusting her body back against her steel chair and grabbing at her wrist. “God damn cunt fucking shit of a horse sandwich!”\n\n“What?” Harry said, abruptly interrupting his retelling of how Arcade Fire came to fame and thus stopped being a good band. \n\n“Nothing,” Sarah said, cradling her lacerated right arm in her left hand. The knife had gotten her again, slashed her on the way down. She’d moved too quickly, forgotten the plan: slowly reach into the bag, rather than mindlessly thrusting. She had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment. \n\n“Are you okay?” Harry said, twirling the end of his mustache and straining his neck as he attempted to see the bleeding arm Sarah hid in her lap. \n\n“I’m fine,” Sarah snapped, lowering her arm even further. Great, now she was bleeding all over her new dress. She’d known it would be a horrible idea to wear white, that she should’ve gone with the blood red one. In fact, she should’ve probably just not brought the knife with her in the first place. It was all Jenny’s idea, her request that she “be safe” on the blind date. They were in public, they were in a god damn Starbucks. Why did she listen about bringing the knife with her? Now all it did was stand guard by her purse, its blade unfortunately close to its zippered opening. \n\n“You look like you’re bleeding,” Harry said, releasing his grip on his mustache and instead adjusting his thick-framed glasses. \n\n“I’m not,” Sarah said, lowering her arm even further. She probably looked insane, like an absolute idiot. For all she knew, she probably also had mascara-drawn swastikas against her forehead, the black inky substance streaking down her forehead with her sweat. If she could just reach into ehr bag without stabbing herself with the concealed blade, if she could just pull out the cosmetic mirror, she could be sure she wasn’t unintentionally announcing her untrue hatred of the Jewish people. Yet the knife, its increasingly blood-stained blade, still stood watch, still remained just a few inches from the zippered opening. It was impenetrable. \n\n“You’re definitely bleeding,” Harry said, leaning forward even further. \n\n“No,” Sarah lied, “it’s just that time of the month. Please don’t draw any more attention to it than is necessary.”\n\n“Oh,” Harry said, leaning back. “Gross. Well, anyway, Arcade Fire really started going downhill when the masses…”\n\nSarah glanced down at the bag, the blue scarf now stained with droplets of ruby blood. Why had she set down the concealed knife so close to the purse? Why had she brought it with her in the first place? She should’ve known Jenny was overly afraid, that she was wrong about the dangers of blind dates. She was the one who told her to bring the pepper spray last time, which she’d unintentionally sprayed in her own face seventeen times during that evening’s movie date. They’d gone to see Train Wreck, she and Michael—an attractive construction worker from Queens—but actually managed to watch less than six minutes of the film thanks to Jenny’s horrible suggestion. Every time she reached for her beverage, she unintentionally unleashed a torrent of isolated pepper spray directly into her own eyes. She had no idea why she’d put the device down so close to her Coca-Cola, but it caused nothing but trouble the entire evening.\n\nGlancing back up at Harry, Sarah tried to make sense of what he was talking about, her left arm clutched around her bloodied right. It was something about the superiority of record players over every other medium of music. Whatever the case, Sarah couldn’t concentrate on the discussion. For all she knew, she still had swastikas scribbled across her forehead. She just needed to reach into the bag, to carefully maneuver so that she did not cut her own wrist on the knife sitting a few inches beside it. She could then just grab the mirror, hold it up to her face for a quick second and go about fixing whatever anti-Semitic symbols she’d unintentionally created. That was it, a slow, deliberate grab. She leaned forward and blindly plunged her fist into the purse, immediately stabbing herself on the blade she’d ironically brought for her own safety.\n\n“Fuck my god damned weasels with a salad mixer named Larry,” she shrieked, closing her eyes and grabbing at her arm. The knife was deeply embedded within her forearm, blood spewing out across the SoHo Starbucks floor as she flailed. \n\n“What in the fuck,” Harry shouted, pushing himself out of his chair and standing up. “Did you just stab yourself?”\n\n“No,” Sarah screamed, “it’s not what it looks like! I was just trying to get the mirror and my safety knife was right beside the bag and I just kept stabbing myself on it!”\n\n“So move it out of the fucking way,” Harry said, throwing his arms up in the air. “I mean, for fuck’s sake. I watched you do it the first time and thought it was a mistake. The second time, I guess I just couldn’t believe it. Three times, though? Stabbing yourself three times on a knife you brought to a Starbucks? That’s really my limit. Plus, the whole swastika thing on your forehead is kind of weird.”\n\nSarah stared at Harry, watching as he turned and walked out of the Starbucks. Everybody else in the café seemed to be watching her in return, some of them running over and placing napkins around her profusely bleeding arm. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by \"move it out of the way,\" but the more she thought about the phrase, the more she realized he might have been on to something. Perhaps, rather than stabbing herslef over-and-over, she should've considered scooting the knife a few inches to the left, so as to avoid the entire situation? Whatever the case, it was too late now. Harry was gone.\n\nShe glanced down at the purse, blood-smeared scarf now lying a few feet away. The knife was no longer standing guard, instead uncomfortably situated deeply within her right forearm. She was cleared for entry now, cleared to grab whatever she needed from the purse. She knelt down and dug around inside the bag, pulling out her cosmetic mirror and holding it up to her face. Without a second throughout, she flipped it open and immediately unleashed a fine stream of pepper spray directly into her wide-open eyes. \n\n“Fucking damn you, Jenny,” Sarah shrieked, falling to the floor in agony. “You god damn slut wombat of a beaver-fucker!” It still wasn’t her worst date ever, but it was certainly in the top ten.\n", "\"It's the little things,\" sighed Carmen, staring out over the ruined city \"that's what I miss the most.\"\n\n\"Yeah?\" I asked while trying to wipe the smudges from the binoculars. \"Like what?\"\n\n\"I dunno. Just like, sitting down with a hot drink?\" She laughed, \"God, sounds silly to want something so banal so badly.\"\n\nI inspected the beaten lenses closely. This pair had belonged to my Grandfather, he had used them back in the great war. Said they were lucky, they had saved my life a few times since things went to shit here though. I brought them up and surveyed the buildings.\n\n\"You cold?\" She wrapped the scarf around her neck tighter, \" I'm getting cold.\" The sun was starting to set and at this time of year we were looking at nights below zero. We needed to find somewhere warm, covered in, hopefully not occupied by anyone too unfriendly.\n\n\"Little bit, but I think I can see some good spots for a little fire.\"\n\n\"Anything for a hot drink?\"\n\nA familiar logo caught my eye and I couldn't help but laugh at the coincidence. A Starbucks, and from this distance it looked empty. \"I think we can sort something out.\"\n\nI collected up our few belongings; mainly just canteens for water and some tinned food we scavenged from the suburbs. Carmen checked the sharpness of the knife and the batteries in the flashlight for the umpteenth time. Satisfied that everything was working we set out. We traveled slowly, carefully. It looked abandoned from the outside but the locals had become good at hiding. The worst part were the IEDs. Some were sitting there untriggered from earlier skirmishes, others set up by scavengers to set up a perimeter.\n\nWe got as far as the street across from the cafe. We took cover behind a car as we tried to plot the safest way to enter the building, but our plans were interrupted by the deafening crack of a rifle. The building was occupied, only one person confirmed but may be more inside. All we had was the knife, he had us pinned. Carmen looked at me, knowing that we had but one desperate option left. One of us had to draw the fire while the other tried to run.\n\nShe won the coin toss. I gave up the packs of food and Grandad's lucky binoculars. She looked at me with tearful eyes, but was too guilty to say anything. I ran, moments later another crack and I was spun round. As I fell there was another that came with a sharp pain in my back and numbness below my waist. As I landed I saw Carmen running, but not away from the cafe. She ran through the door.\n\nI crawled towards the cafe and the sound of scuffles inside it. There was one more crack, followed by a heavy thump. As I drug myself inside, leaving a red smear over the threshold I began to smell an aroma I hadn't smelled in years. Roasted coffee beans.\n\nMy last sight was of Carmen. She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf.", "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. She looked down for a moment, to make sure the knife was hidden from view. At least hidden from anyone looking in.\n\nThe name on her coffee cup caught her attention as she looked back up to the window. Staicy it said. It blew her mind how Starbucks really couldn't spell anyone's name right. Last week it was Steighcy. Week before, it was Stacee. Maybe these people purposely spell names wrong.\n\nShe looked back out the window, thinking about the rest of her day. Hmm. I've gotta walk to work and I have to be there in . . . 40 minutes. Leave at 5, pick up some groceries, take Luke to hockey practice, alright. Not too bad. Normal Monday like always. \n\nThe silence in the Starbucks was loud. The usual buzz of the blenders and sound of coffee being made were missing. Gone too was the cacophony of customers, each impatiently waiting in line to order their morning coffee, with baristas waiting to wrongly spell their names. The only sound left was silence. And Stacy's occasional movement.\n\nTen minutes later, she got up to leave. Leaving the Starbucks, she flipped the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. She took one last look at the Starbucks before she left, wrapping her scarf around her neck and putting the knife back in her handbag. The dead baristas lying on the counter were no appeasing sight. Neither were the pile of customers in the back left corner. None of the scene was pretty. But maybe next time, the baristas would learn to spell her name.", "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, соνered with her blue silk scarf. She was tempted to touch the blade, but decided against it. She could get noticed, risk destroying the whole plan. \n\nA man walked into the room, eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the coffee shop. he began to step towards the counter, beginning to order. His voice was musky and deep, with a hint of anxiety. He gazed around, trying not to look into the barista's eyes. She handed him his coffee. He walked over to Kate and sat down. \n\nAfter a few minutes of silence, he spoke. He said how he knows what happened and he has been paid to return Kate to safety. Kate stood up, clutching the hidden blade and walked towards the door. He walked behind her, eyes darting around, looking for any possible danger. She opened the passenger door and sat down.\n\n Another man was sitting in the drivers seat, staring at Kate. As the other man closed the door, he sped off into the streets. Kate did not know where they were going, but she knew one thing. She had gotten away with murder.", "She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knіfе lay next to her handbag, соνered with her blue silk scarf. Her hands trembled slightly, and she realized how cold her fingertips were despite the warmth from the cup. \n\nThrough the window she watched the world roll past. Mothers with strollers, a group of shirtless guys jogging across the street, a letter carrier in typical blue shorts. Cars were driving through the intersection, some waiting to turn. A man on a motorcycle in the parking lot waited for a car to back out of a spot. A couple opened the door to the coffee shop, the woman stepped to the side so an older man could exit.\n\nEveryone was following the rules.\n\nHer blood boiled. A quiet storm raged inside her. She watched a young couple walk from the store next door, bags in hand, laughing. She watched as a woman approached the bus stop on the sidewalk, phone to her ear. Everyone living their quiet lives, politely ignoring the world around them. Just like any other Wednesday.\n\nShe sipped her coffee, relishing the burn of the liquid on her lips. Steam surrounded her face for a moment, fogging up her glasses, blurring the world. This is how she preferred life. Blurry.\n\nAs she continued staring out the window, she reached down and touched the scarf. Blue, silk, with a light lace pattern etched the entire length, she loved this scarf. It was a birthday gift. And now it was ruined.\n\nHer thoughts trailed to the blade hidden underneath. It was too small, she decided, angrily. Her fingers traced the width of the blade through the scarf. It should have been bigger, she thought. She could feel people's eyes on her. She ignored them.\n\nShe sipped her coffee again, and saw lights flash through the window. The red and blue flickered against her glasses, reflecting off the high exposed ceilings. The other patrons began to turn, looking out the window. Two officers exited the car, speaking to each other. People outside stood from their tables, making room for the officers to walk toward the door. Onlookers inside stepped back. A mother pulled her child in close.\n\nOf course, she thought. Distance is the only answer.\n\nThe officers stepped inside, and looked around. They were young, clean shaven, bright eyed. An air of bravado, reeking of the expectation of respect. She turned and stared at them, sipping her coffee, playing with the lace on the scarf.\n\nThey spotted her, and the officer closest to her signaled his partner. He then spoke sideways into his radio on his shoulder, one hand on his hip.\n\n\"Three-six to dispatch. We're code 4 here.\" A static mumbling from the other end.\n\nThe officers walked toward her table. Each had a hand on their gun. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. \n\nThe officers stopped at her table. The officer who had radioed dispatch spoke.\n\n\"Ma'am,\" he said. Ma'am, she thought. Fuck you.\n\n\"Ma'am, we're going to need you to put your hands on the table please.\"\n\nShe felt a sick sense of guilt. She couldn't help but wonder how this interchange would go if she were black.\n\nShe spread her fingers open, raising her hand above the table. She set down her coffee, spreading the fingers of her other hand. Slowly, deliberately, she placed both hands open on the table.\n\nThe officer nodded. He spoke.\n\n\"Thank you ma'am. My name is Officer Stroke. This is my partner, Officer Dennison. Mind if I sit down?\"\n\nShe nodded, looking at the empty chair. Stroke sat. Dennison walked to the window and leaned against it, effectively blocking her path. His hand was still on his gun. Stroke looked at her. \n\n\"Ma'am, were you the one that made the call?\" He was emotionless.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said. She looked out the window. People were standing still at their tables outside, looking in. She turned back to the officer.\n\n\"I called you.\" \n\n\"Do you have the knife with you, ma'am?\" Stroke asked. He set one hand on the table, and leaned back into his seat. She assumed his other hand was on his gun. She nodded.\n\n\"Yes.\" she said. \"Would you like me to hand it to you?\" Stroke shook his head firmly.\n\n\"No ma'am. If you'll tell us where it is, my partner will take it from you.\" She nodded, looking back out the window. A mother was standing in the parking lot, holding her baby. She was talking to another woman, both were staring into the coffee shop.\n\n\"It's under the scarf\" she said quietly. Dennison stood straight, and walked around the table. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pen. He leaned over the table, and used the pen to move the scarf aside, exposing the knife.\n\n\"Got it,\" he said. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a medical glove. Pulling it on to his hand, he put the pen back into his shirt, and reached down to collect the knife. He stood, holding it away from his body, as though it might bite him.\n\nSure, she thought to herself. You'll want to be careful with that. It might hurt you.\n\n\"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to stand.\" Stroke said. He stood, his posture more relaxed. She looked at him.\n\n\"3 years.\" She said. Stroke narrowed his gaze at her.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" he asked. \n\n\"I was with him for 3 years.\" she said. Her voice trembled. She hated that. She continued.\n\n\"I have been coming to this coffee shop every Wednesday morning for 3 years. And every Wednesday morning for 3 years, people have ignored the bruises. They ask 'how are you' and 'how's your week' and 'how are things', but they always ignore the bruises.\"\n\nStroke stared at her, saying nothing. The tension was thick enough to choke on. She slowly stood, casting her eyes around the room at the onlookers.\n\n\"You all are so comfortable, living your lives, ignoring each other. You come and you go and you're all so busy. You see the same people week in and week out and you don't even notice them.\" She looked back to Stroke.\n\n\"I told him last week that if he laid one more hand on me I would kill him.\"\n\nStroke nodded, his gaze softening.\n\n\"Ma'am,\" he said. \"You're under arrest for the murder of Carl Hardin. Please turn around, putting your hands behind your back.\"\n\nShe stepped out from the table, and turned, facing the window. She could hear stroke step forward, and could hear the metal-on-metal of the handcuffs. People were talking, staring right at her through the window. Just like every other Wednesday.\n\nThe steel was cold on her wrists. Stroke led her through the coffee shop. She made eye contact with as many people as she could, daring them to stare through the dark ring around her eye, the blood crusted around her nose and mouth. Her spaghetti strap shirt exposed every bruise, old and new. The yellowing-green of the older bruises giving way to the dark blue of the newer ones.\n\nThey walked outside, and Dennison opened the back of the squad car door. Stroke spoke.\n\n\"Be careful here, ma'am.\" She laughed.\n\n\"Now you're concerned for my well being.\" She stepped into the car, the door closing behind her.\n\nShe watched people staring at her as they pulled out of the parking lot. Just like every other Wednesday. " ]	[ 1, 4, 5, 6, 6 ]	[ "1439482567", "1439484443", "1439483469", "1439482873", "1439484163" ]
	[WP] A game show contestant is a very sore loser.	4	[ "Negativity\n\nJames (not Jim. Never Jim), looked up at the scores and screamed. For the past twenty minutes he had pressed the button as quickly as possible on every question, whether he knew the answer or not. Only twice had he been faster than the other two and both time the questions had been insane:\n\n\"How many testes does the South African Bull Frog have?\" (Answer: none as the frog does not exist)\n\n\"How long until there is only a night side and day side to the earth? Answer withing one million years.\" (Answer: the sun will swallow it before that happens)\n\nOf course he got the answers wrong and both of the other two were smart enough not to buzz in on them. Now James was $4000 in the hole and the game was over. So he screamed.\n\n\"Now, Jim,\" said the host, \"I know that you're frustrated, but please try to control yourself on stage.\"\n\n\"No,\" said James. \"And my name is James. Not Jim. As I've told you six times.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm sorry about that, but there is still no call for screaming.\"\n\n\"Yes. Yes there is. You [beep]-ers have this whole thing [beep]-ing rigged. I don't know how. I don't know why. But you do. And I'll [beep]-ing scream if I [beep]-ing want to.\"\n\n\"James, please. You know we can't air that kind of language. Anyway, we have some nice parting gifts for you.\"\n\n\"What? I years supply of laundry detergent? [beep] that. I want some [beep]-ing money.\"\n\n\"You had your chance. The same chance that the other two contestants had.\"\n\nJames looked at them. Denise and Ralph. They looked smug. He screamed again.\"The [beep] I did! The [beep]-ing buzzer was rigged!\"\n\n\"Now you know that's not true. You did very well in the qualifying.\"\n\n\"And that's why it has to be rigged!\" James kicked his podium and hurt his toes. He screamed a third time and pushed at the podium, which fell over. James reached to his right and pulled over Denise's podium, pushed her aside and then pushed over Ralph's. Both of the other two backed away, hands up and watched James, wary of what he would do next.\n\nWith the podiums down, James jumped on them. He wanted to break them, make them feel the way he did. Hurt them. Make sure that they would never cheat another contestant.\n\nThe in-studio audience has watched all of this with the usual oohs and ahhs, but now a few of them felt it was time to get in on the act. A couple of college kids jumped the railing and started to kick attack the podiums as well, yelling \"It's rigged! It's rigged!\" Soon the podiums were nothing but splinters.\n\nAt this point, the host left the set. He took Diane and Ralph with him and disappeared. The rest of the audience started to split between those looking to escape and those looking to get in on the destruction. This caused everyone to get stuck in the bleachers and started some fights.\n\nThe camera men kept filming.", "She looks into the audience, do they want it as bad as she does?\n\nThey seem to, but she can't tell. She lowers her hands and thrusts them up into the air, and like a lion responding to his tamer, the crowd ignites. \n\nShe smiles, this is her time. \n\nDrew Carey explains the rules; she has two spins to get as close to a dollar without going over; and if she is lucky enough to have the highest number, she will continue onward to the showcase showdown. \n\nShe takes a deep breath, grabs the wheel, and thrusts downward. \n\nThe blip-blip-blips of the wheel are fast at first, but they begin to slow. She looks away to say hello to her friends and family at home, and glances back to the wheel. \n\nA measly 5 cents. The lowest of the low. \n\nShe explains to Drew that indeed she will spin again, but not before igniting the crowd again. \n\nThe crowd roars with excitement as she stares down the wheel. She takes a deep breath, and again, thrusts the wheel downward. \n\nThe blip-blip-blips are fast again, but this time they seem to take an eternity to slow. \n\nShe watches as the wheel glosses over many good options.\n\n45, not enough\n\n60, getting better\n\n25, no please no\n\nOh no. No no.\n\nThe only number that she could not have. Say it isn't so. \n\n$1.00.\n\nHer total is $1.05\n\nDrew explains she is over, she doesn't want to hear it. How soon her fate has turned, the lion which once roared for her now roars for the next tamer in line. She can't bare to think of what could have been. \n\n\"Well FUCK.\" she screams. \n\nDrew looks over, surprised. \n\n\"FUCK this FUCKING DOLLAR. Fuck the wheel, fuck the Price is Right...\n\nAnd Drew Carey...\n\nFUCK YOUR GLASSES\"\n" ]	[ 1, 6 ]	[ "1439518886", "1439489404" ]
	[WP] Your SO has been posessed by the devil. Unfortunately you like this side of him/her more.	8	[ "Her tiny body starts contorting and instead of her usual Albanian or Greek, a stream of gibberish starts sprouting from her mouth. Although she sometimes has off days I notice something is off. \"What's wrong?\" I ask her in Greek. Her eyes usually green and full of humor are an off shade of brown. \"Less talk and more sex!\" She utters. Well okay then.", "\"Macy? Macy, what's wrong?!\"\n\nI was unable to comprehend the situation I was in. One minute we were arguing (which I normal for college students) and the next minute... she just collapsed. She didn't just pass out or faint, mind you; but she literally just fell flat on the ground without any morning. Suddenly a red glow appeared around her and her body began to float. \n\n\"...Macy?\"\n\n\"Macy isn't here anymore Randall.\"\n\n\"Who said that!? Where are you?!\"\n\nI looked around, there was no one insight. Suddenly Macy began to float towards me. Her head lifted up, and I saw her eyes... they were glowing red, like opalescent rubys. Then a voice emerged from her. \n\n\"You're probably wondering why I'm here, Randall.\"\n\nMacy's voice was different, not masculine, but just different. Soothing almost... almost like it was pacifying my deepest fears.\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\nMacy (or whatever was controlling her) crept forward. I backed up until all that was behind was solid wall. Shit, the doors behind her\n\n\"You know who I am\"\n\n\"No don't. Oh shit! Please just leave me and Macy alone!\"\n\n\"I dislike being slandered, Randall\"\n\n\"wha-\"\n\n\"You called this mortal, 'devil bitch'\"\n\n\"I was just mad, I really didn't mean it. What the hell does that have anything to do with this!?\"\n\n\"Who do you think you're talking to?\"\n\n\"What...?\" Suddenly her body began to rappel down until she landed on the floor. She began to walk closer to me. Oh my god! I'm gonna die... I'm really gonna fucking die! She leaned her face towards mine.\n\n\"I'm fucking Satan\"\n\n\"Wait what... Satan's a girl?\"\n\n\"Duh. Now I don't like being insulted. You called this girl a devil. How dare you! You don't even know what this devil is capable of\" \n\n\"I'm so sorry! Please don't kill me!\" I was scared shitless\n\n\"Pffftt,\" suddenly she began to laugh; not maniacally, but kind of in a cute way. I'm so fucked up \"No, Randall, but a punishment is in order.\n\nI kind of want her to whip me\n\n\"Randall... you know I can read minds.\" Suddenly I saw her face redden.\n\nHoly shit, she's blushing! I just made Satan blush... I don't know how I feel about this\n\n\"Hey stop that!!! I'm Satan, fear me!\"\n\n\"I really can't right now\"\n\n\"WHY NOT!?\"\n\n\"Well you're in my girlfriend's body, and she's too adorable to scare anyone, now that I think about it.\"\n\n\"Well... I can't manifest in physical form in the real world.\"\n\n\"So uhmm, can you like leave?\"\n\n\"I still retain twenty percent of my powers in this realm\"\n\nOh shit!\n\n\"Are you gonna kill me?\"\n\n\"Nah\"\n\n\"Are you gonna whip me?\"\n\n\"No, what the fuck is wrong with you? I'm Satan! The devil! The root of all evil!\"\n\n\"I never went to church, so I really don' care much\"\n\n\"Oh... same\"\n\nSuddenly it got really awkward. And we both just stood there for a solid minute and a half.\n\n\"Uhmm... Macy is super religious though\"\n\n\"Eww\"\n\n\"But you know, she's Jewish.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm cool with that.\"\n\n\"yeah nice\"\n\nAm I literally flirting with the devil. Macy does kinda look hotter\n\n\"Hey, you Mortal! Eyes up here!\"\n\n\"Sorry\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ!\"\n\n\"Are you allowed to say that?\"\n\n\"Yeah, why the hell wouldn't I be able to?\"\n\n\"Well you know I figured that you would like explode or something...\"\n\n\"That's not how it works\"\n\n\"Oh... so... uhmm... what's hell like?\"\n\n\"You know how a tropical beach is nice, warm and relaxing\"\n\n\"Yeah!\"\n\n\"Well imagine the complete opposite. Literally everything is hot. Even the ice.\n\n\"Wait, there's ice? Doesn't it melt?\"\n\n\"No! I'm just as confused as you. It makes no sense. It literally defies the laws of science. Ughh! I just can't even. But you know what's cool about it?\" \n\n\"No, what?\"\n\n\"Nothing, everything is hot as balls\"\n\n\"That sucks\"\n\n\"But there is a plus side\"\n\n\"What is it\"\n\n\"I get to control like twenty five percent of the mortal world. You know how Trump is ahead in the polls.\"\n\n\"Yeah...\"\n\nShe started to grin, \"that was me!\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Yup\"\n\n\"You are the worst,\" I said jokingly; truthfully I didn't care about politics.\n\nShe started to crack up, \"Hell yeah, I am! And you know what else? You know those videos where the guy gets hit in the nads?\"\n\n\"Yeah\"\n\n\"ME!\"\n\n\"Damn Satan, you're kind of cool.\"\n\n\"Awww, thanks Randall, you're pretty cool too.\"\n\n\"Thanks Satan\"\n\n\"Well, actually, if I'm going to be completely honest, I'm not The Devil\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'm actually his daughter\"\n\n\"What...? Then whose your mom\"\n\n\"Persephone\"\n\n\"The Greek goddess?\"\n\n\"Yeah, what you thought only christian gods were real?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah.\"\n\n\"Nah, they're all real, except the Norse one's. Speaking of which, how awesome was Thor!?\"\n\n\"Pretty damn awesome. But going back on topic, what is your name.\"\n\n\"Just call me Serena\"\n\n\"Well, Serena did you actually do any of that stuff you mentioned\"\n\n\"Yeah, my dad was totally pissed off; but you know, screw him\"\n\n\"Totally. Anyway, how long are you gonna be here\"\n\n\"Well, I only have twelve hours at a time on earth. Anyways I'm sorry I possessed your girlfriend.\"\n\n\"It's cool, I was gonna break up with her anyway.\"\n\n\"Oh... You know I was wondering...\" Her face started to blush\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Wanna come to hell with me\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know I said it sucks but it's actually pretty nice, we just got an air conditioning installed\"\n\n\"Totally! I'm in\"\n\n\"Really? I didn't think you'd say 'yes'\"\n\n\"Well if I'm gonna be honest I kinda like you\"\n\n\"Aww Randall, that's really sweet, but I have a boyfriend.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm so sorry if I led you on; you're a nice guy and all, but I just don't think we should date\"\n\n\"...That's cool...\"\n\n\"Want me to leave?\"\n\n\"Nah, it's cool, we can hang some other time though\"\n\n\"Yeah totally\"\n\n\"See ya\" \n\n\"Bye\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 2, 6 ]	[ "1439587062", "1439594836" ]
	[WP] NASA's first deep-space mission has been exceedingly uneventful so far as the Hermes 2 makes its scheduled pass behind Jupiter, losing radio contact with Houston. When contact with the ship is reestablished, something is very different.	6	[ "Like a prose lost to the annals of time, just adrift in the cosmos as I stood at the bridge. Staring out the empty, at the cold behemoth of a relentless abyss that would not stop. Seemingly improbable, as time seems to plot against you. Ours be so fickle, in a worthless attempt to make use of what little we have, space bends time to achieve its need. I now see the monster within it, within me, while a intangible foe conspires against us. With all the time it could ever need.\n\nSomewhere inside a raging inferno, I am harkened back to a single moment, back to my past. I drop the weapon, a thud resonates through the hall behind me as I eye the glorious gas giant before me. Like a wisp in the clouds, looming smoke swallows me as the haze thickens. Heat slowly rising around me, as if I emit a flame from my irradiated skin. Smiling to myself, finally able to set fire to who I was, standing in the flames as I let the madness consume my mind. Like a flood rushing in, an acid corroding my veins, I exhale again as the cigarette smoke trails off.\n\nSomewhere behind me, the cackle of a radio breaks my trance. My mouth agape, turning my head toward the console, I long forgot about those poor Earth bound souls. Unable to appreciate what freedom of a mind free from the bondage of time can bring. Stumbling to the console, I can't help but smile. The perfect prose escaping my mind, my lips unable to transfer the words. Pressing the button, inhaling deep, \"We are all dead,\" I answer.\n\nOnly if they could know, only if they could just feel the agony on the inside. I turn my attention back to my window, thumping my head against the glass. Space, where my demons could finally escape to, they couldn't twist my memory anymore here. No need to forget anymore, time could not follow me here.", "Hermes 2. That's what we called it. Named after the Greek messenger god. The mission was routine, but subtly different from the other probes that we sent. Send the probe to Neptune passing by Jupiter, collecting brand new, 4K pictures to assist in our mapping of the Gas Giants. Our intention was to see new things upon the surfaces of these gas giants. \n\nHowever for some reason our Probe was losing speed. We couldn't work out why. Luckily Jupiter was right nearby, it was time utilise gravity assist, also know as the slingshot manoeuvre to mainstream media. The idea is to use the gravity and rotation of the celestial object in order to increase the velocity of our space craft. We worked hard to do work out the correct calculations to perform this operation. We double checked and triple checked making sure all the units were right as well. We were ready.\n\nWe shot off the information directly to Hermes 2. Unfortunately due to the limitations of light it will take roughly 35 minutes for our transmission to make it to the space craft. Enter, transmission sent. Then our systems went offline. W frantically run around the office to try and restore our link to Hermes 2. One hour went by and still nothing. Click, System Restarting. Attempting Connection. Authenticating. Connected. Everything is back online. Someone yells to check the status of Hermes 2.\n\"Sir, this can't be right\"\nInformation is pulled up across the screens, somehow Hermes 2 had landed itself by Neptune. It's just not possible to go from Jupiter to Neptune within an hour. That's when the transmissions started coming.\n\nMessages started pouring in from Hermes 2. One after another, containing bizarre things. The first few transmissions contained random bits and strings of information. Then they started to become more coherent, heavily blurred images. We were trying to decode the messages on our end. But we received new information faster than we could decipher. Then came the picture of Earth. Easily identifiable by the crystal clear blue oceans, and our own continents. Something was different though, in the background was a spherical object, as black as the darkest depths of space. Blocking out any light.\n\nMore pictures continued to come through. Each depicting the same thing. Except now there were eight digit numbers down the bottom right of the image and the Earth became ever so slightly more distorted. Hermes 2 wasn't programmed to take pictures of Earth. The team became ever more confused. More pictures kept coming through, the frequency of their arrival was amazing. The pictures continued to show this black object behind the Earth and our planet becoming more and more disfigured, the digits that were shown kept changing. Until the last image that came through. It showed nothing but 00:00:0000 in the lower corner. Then the transmissions stopped and the connection from Hermes 2 went offline.\n\nThen the Earth shook.\n\nHi guys, this was my first story I've ever submitted to writing prompts. Let me know what I can improve on and what you thought of the overall story. Thanks!" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1439625812", "1439637776" ]
	[WP] A famous artist is also a serial killer and hides his/her confessions in song.	78	[ "\"Have you listened to his new album, 'Goblin'?\"\n\n\"No, and what artist is this again?\"\n\n\"He's an up and coming rapper from Ladera Heights in California. His name is Tyler, The Creator.\"\n\n\"Aight, I'll play it right now. Wait, dude one new track has leaked already!\"\n\nTron Cat plays\n\"Starve her, 'til I carve her, shover her in a rover, where I cut her like a barber with Parkinson's disorder.\"\n\n\"OK bro, what the fuck type of music are you listening to? Are you listening to this shit, he basically confessed for a gruesome murder.\"\n\n\"Dude, calm down it's just a metaphor for the corrupt nature of society and how he's just exposing all of it. It's his artistry.\"\n\n\"Whatever bro, this shit is all kinds of fucked up. The dude probably hides all his bodies under the 91 freeway.\"", "\"Bye and thanks for that interview!\"\n\n\"Your welcome!\"\n\n\"And now for a song by the musician who sings in an undiscovered language! Here we are with Reluctancy Amp's new song \"Sdrawkcab Sti\"\n\nowt ro owt ro\n\nbats a devresed eH !?tahw oS\n\n .owt r0 ,owt r0\n\n.yug a dellik a thgir s'taht haeY\n....owt ro\n...owt ro \nyug a dellik ev'I fi tahw os oS\n.tnemhsinup ni eveileb t'nod I\n.nosirp ni eveileb t'nod I\n\nThe rest of the song is in static. ", "\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"I think he's a serial killer\"\n\n\"Because of his lyrics?\"\n\n\"Yeah\"\n\n\"Which ones?\"\n\n\"I killed her and ate her brain\"\n\n\"It's a metaphor\"\n\n\"A metaphor?\"\n\n\"Yeah, when he broke up it hurt her and effected her mental health\"\n\n\"Ok how about I brought her to my basement and tortured her for hours?\"\n\n\"Well that's a silly song, he's talking about making her watch him play video games\"\n\n\"And I keep her heart as a trophy on the wall?\"\n\n\"He broke her heart so now he owns it\"\n\n\"So what you're saying is that his seemingly murderous lyrics are really just him being a huge asshole\"\n\n\"He's a musician. Not a killer\"\n\n\"Uh-huh and how about his song Hey guys I'm a serial killer, I've been talking about it in my lyrics for years and everyone has been assuming it's a metaphor but it's not, (I've killed before and I'm going to kill again) of his new album Jack the Ripper Lives on Through Me?\"\n\n\"Well that's obviously a satirical statement meant to get out in front of ridiculous ideas like this\"\n\n\"Ok and how about the fact that he's across the street right now loading an unconscious woman into a panel van?\"\n\n\"Performance art?\"", "Jordan: Yo Brad, get in here.\n\nBrad: What is it?\n\nJordan: This new song by Cirk Stealy. It's kinda creepy. Check this out, so the song is called \"The Third Word Was Not Enough.\" Go ahead and read it and then I'll show you something kinda strange.\n\n\n\n\n\nTruth is I never met anyone like you\n\nAnd I was gonna make you mine\n\nI had the \"give anything to be with you\" attitude\n\nBut the killer you faced took you away from me.\n\nHe turned my up days into down days.\n\nYou're my wife never to be.\n\nAnd this is gonna haunt my dreams.\n\nLet me in, let me back in your life.\n\nI miss the you I used to have.\n\nIn the woods down where we met, that is where I will be.\n\n\n\nBrad: I don't get it. That's just a weird depressing song.\n\nJordan: Okay now watch this shit. The song title says the THIRD WORD isn't enough, right?\n\nBrad: Yeah....\n\nJordan: Go back and read the third word of each line.\n\n\nBrad goes back and scans the lines\n\n\nBrad: Holy shit. WHAT. THE. FUCK.\n\nJordan: Right!?!?\n\n\nBrad: Wait a minute. The title says that the third word \"Was Not Enough\"\n\nJordan:. Yeah... so?\n\nBrad: So what if the third word of the song isn't the word we're supposed to be looking at. Maybe if we went back and read the fourth word of each line...\n" ]	[ 4, 4, 51, 188 ]	[ "1439778108", "1439790540", "1439731911", "1439737953" ]
EDIT: Wow, this certainly got much more popular than I thought. The overall quality of the texts blew my mind, I could honestly see many of these be adapted for a full lenght novel or TV series.	[WP] The person you're dating is exhibiting stereotypical signs of being a wizard/witch. You're fairly certain he/she IS a wizard/witch. He/she is fairly bad at trying to convince you otherwise.	208	[ "Shauna was on her third outfit and every one had something wrong. It was too casual or boring or made her butt look weird. After the fifth one, she looked at the clock and saw that she had 15 minutes before Jo would pick her up. So she took the cute shirt from the first outfit and paired it with a black A-line skirt. It'd have to do. \n\nShe was on her phone, looking at some Facebook posts until Jo would come. Shauna was a bit nervous; she hadn't been on a date before. Her parents thought that she was just watching a movie with her friend. They'd freak if they knew the truth. Maybe if she and Jo became serious, she'd consider telling them. She 'liked' a joke Greg made when her mom sat beside her.\n\n\"So what movie are you watching,\" her mom questioned. She turned the TV onto some hospital soap. \n\n\"Born to Love Again,\" Shauna replied while she was scrolling through her Instgram.\n\n\"Is it rated R because you know you can't watch those.\" Her mom wasn't even watching the show anymore.\n\n\"Ugh. It's PG-13 and everyone's going to watch it. It's the new Nessie Smith movie.\" Her mom was so nosy.\n\n\"Well, who's going?\" At this point, her mom wasn't even trying to hide it.\n\n\"Just Jo.\" Shauna managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes before it was too late.\n\n\"That weird witch girl. You're going with her?\" Witch? Sure, Jo wore black all the time but that didn't mean she was a witch.\n\n\"She's a wiccan. It's totally different.\" The bell rung. Shauna jumped up and ran to the door. \"Bye, mom. I'll be back at midnight.\"\n\n\nJo and Shauna were at the Starbucks next to the theater. She was sipping her frappucino while Jo was eating a coffee cake. She was wearing her usual black dress, hat and boots. She did look a but witch-y. It was probably a wiccan. Besides, Jo made it work.\n\n\"Sooo...\" It was kinda awkward to be alone with Jo. Jo looked up. Her skin looked a bit green but most importantly, she had a giant wart. Oh, god. It was huge. Shauna looked away before their date was more awkward.\n\n\"So.\" Jo replied in a deadpan voice. Shauna tried to think of something to say but all she could think about was that wart. Would it be rude if she bought some cream at the convenience store? Yes, it would be. But that wart? Did Jo always have it? She didn't really remember seeing it earlier that day at school. Then again, Jo just hung out in the dark chemistry lab. Jo was looking at her now. Wait, did she say something? Was it about the wart? \n\n\"So.\" What kinda response was that? Shauna should've said something else instead. God, when was the movie starting? \"When does the movie start?\"\n\n\"7:30.\" Half an hour. What the hell? She thought they had 5 minutes or something. What was there to talk about? What about pets? \"Do you have a dog? I have a dog. His name is Shiloh. He's so cute. You should come over and hang out.\"\n\n\"Dogs are okay but cats are better. Look, her name's Salem.\" Jo took out her phone and showed Shauna some pictures of Salem, a black cat. It didn't help that they were in the forest, near a fire, under a full moon, with other people dressed in black. All Shauna could think about was what her mom had said. Maybe Jo was a witch. She wore black, had green skin, warts and a black cat. \n\n\"Is this a wiccan thing?\" Shauna hoped that she didn't seem rude. \n\n\"No. I'm not a wiccan.\" Jo looked offended. Shauna checked her phone. Ugh, the movie didn't start for 25 more minutes.\n\n\"Maybe, we should head in. Better get the good seats before they're gone. You know.\" It was awkward again but that had to better than before. \n\nThey were at the concession stand. \n\n\"So do you want something?\" Jo looked at her. Shauna drank the frappuccino and wasn't particularly thirsty. There weren't any good snacks. When they made it to the front of the line, Jo ordered some popcorn and M&M's. \n\n\"Just some water.\" Jo had a funny expression on her face. It just made her wart more obvious. Was it the wrong thing to order? Jo didn't say anything but she paid for it and handed her the bottle. \n\nThey sat near the back. There weren't that many people there but it was kinda warm. Shauna opened her bottle and took a sip. Jo was staring. \n\n\"Do you want some?\" Shauna handed her the bottle. Jo was making that face again. \n\n\"How can you drink that?\" Shauna took back the bottle. This date was a disaster. Before she could think of an excuse, the previews started. \n\nThe first preview was a retelling of Little Mermaid from the perspective of the sea witch. The actress looked dour in her black outfit. \n\nThe second preview was a remake of the Crucible. The actresses in their pilgrim outfits were okay but the special effects looked pretty cool. Their possessions were creepy and the magic shown looked realistic. Jo grumbled. \n\n\"What?\" Shauna hoped that that didn't come out as bitchy. \n\n\"It's just so unrealistic. Possessions don't look like that and spells don't have sparks.\" Jo would have continued but someone shushed her. At this point, Shauna was sure Jo was a witch.\n\nThe last preview was a serious rendition of the Wizard of Oz. She didn't remember Dorothy having a sword or even the Cowardly Lion chanting some biblical hymns when Dorothy threw the water at the Witch. Then again, she never read the book.\n\nWhen she saw the Witch melt, Shauna was hit with a plan. She'd just 'accidently' spill some water on Jo. If Jo wasn't hurt, then she wasn't a witch. She opened the bottle and was about to drop it when Jo stretched her arms, knocking the bottle over. \n\n\"What the hell?\" Jo was drenched but she looked unharmed. There wasn't any steam or melted body parts. \n\n\"Oh my god, Jo, I'm so sorry.\" Jo looked annoyed. She took some paper napkins and tried to dry the stain. \"Do you want to go? I didn't mean to ruin the date. God, I'm so sorry.\" \n\n\"It's alright. We already paid for the movie.\" Jo ignored her for the rest of the movie. Shauna tried to enjoy the movie. Nessie was her favorite actress but she couldn't stop feeling guilty. Of course, witches weren't real. God, she was so stupid. That wart was probably acne. People wore black. And they also had cats. She was just overreacting.\n\nThey were outside Shauna's house. They could hear the TV playing. The streets were empty. Jo's hair gleamed under the moonlight. She looked unearthly. \n\n\"I'm sorry about earlier.\" While the movie was fun, their date was pretty boring. It didn't help that she poured water on Jo to see if she was a witch. Besides, Jo was so serious. She hoped that they could remain friends.\n\n\"It's alright. It's not like it's holy water.\" Great, now she was stuck thinking about Jo for the rest of the night.", "\"There! Right fucking there!\" I exclaimed, pointing at Mark's cup.\n\nHe looked at me with an eyebrow raised, morning coffee halfway to his lips. \"There what darling?\" \n\n\"The sugar. You just poured sugar out of that shaker, even though I completely emptied it before you woke up.\" I told him.\n\n\"You... emptied our sugar thingy? Why?\" Mark asked.\n\nThat was the question. Why. Let's put this into some context. Mark and I had been dating for two years, and I've gotta tell you - there have been some magical times in there. And no, not just the cheesy \"love is great\" kind of magical - actual magical times. \n\nSee, Mark is a wizard.\n\nOr at least I'm like... 90% sure Mark is a wizard. Most of the time it's just little impossible things. Getting sugar from empty sugar shakers, any size of shirt will fit him, he always wins at least a fiver from instant scratchits. Mundane miracles. But then there's the bigger stuff. He cavorts with all manner of... things. I'm fairly sure our current landlord is a unicorn. It barely seems legal, but we get good rent. Whenever we want to hang out with someone, we just open the door and hey - there we are, at their house. It all adds up. Once, I woke up to find the biggest bouquet of flowers I've ever seen at the foot of my bed. That last one probably wasn't magic but it was pretty sweet. \n\nBUT any time I bring it up, he denies it.\n\n\"Mark are you a wizard\" I'll ask him, and every time the answer is the same - \"No of course I'm not a wizard. Wizards aren't real\" and that's the end of it. So lately I've been trying to catch him in the act. Setting little traps. Buying XXS shirts, rigging a scratchit to lose, cutting his brake line - but he always gets away with it. Not this time though. This time, I made sure that there was no sugar in the house. Which brings us to his question.\n\n\"You... emptied our sugar thingy? Why?\" Mark asked.\n\n\"To prove that you're a wizard!\" I said\n\n\"No of course I'm not a wizard. Wizards aren't real\" he said, tone and inflection identical to every other time he's said it\n\n\"Then explain the sugar thing!\" I told him\n\n\"You've gone crazy?\" he said and winked.\n\nI almost laughed, but today it had to end. \"I'm serious,\" I said \"It was empty. Completely empty - how did you get sugar out of it?\"\n\n\"Through... not wizardry?\" Mark said, lying badly.\n\n\"Oh really? Not wizardry?\" I scoffed. \"Not wizardry would be refilling it from the sugar jar, maybe fucking up and refilling from the salt jar on accident. But I have both of those jars right here,\" I pulled them out from my purse and set them on the table before continuing, \"and you didn't use either.\"\n\nMark was really starting to sweat now. I continued putting the heat on.\n\n\"And what about that scratchit yesterday? It was blank when I bought it, but you still won $20 off that. Or your car? Severed brake lines for weeks and you're still driving it like a champ. And the shirts, Mark. You have a 23 inch chest but a shirt with an 18 inch chest will still fit you. It doesn't add up Mark, and I'd like you to come clean with me\"\n\nMark sighed heavily and looked me in the eyes. \"Look Kate, the truth is... I'm gay.\"\n\n\"No you're not, Mark. Gay people don't get any of those things.\" I said\n\n\"How about I'm... born again?\" he said, grasping at any straw he could think of. Mark didn't do great under pressure. Well I mean, he's a wizard. He does better than most people.\n\nThis one was easy. \"Nope. Power of God is more 'water to wine' or 'water to blood' or 'walking on water'. There's no water in a scratchit.\"\n\n\"Would you believe...\" Mark started before his eyes widened like bowling balls \"Oh shit I lent mum the car. She's not a wiz- uh, she won't know about the brakes. Gotta go!\"\n\nMark kissed me on the forehead, put his robe and pointed hat on, and vanished. \n\nI sipped my sugarless tea and glared at where he had been. Damn he was good at getting out of awkward conversations.", "\"Mary can we stop pretending. You know I don't care.\" I say. \n\nAs usual Mary's cheeks grow red and she starts to sputter, \"What? Stop pretending, huh? I don't know what you're talking about. Can we just go back downstairs and order pizza?\" \n\n\"What's in that chest that's so incriminating?\" I ask. \"Hmm?\" \n\n\"Huh? this chest?\" She strolls over towards the dusty old chest in the attic and places a hand on it. \"Nothing, there's nothing in there. In fact-\" She gripped the edges of it and feigned a strained groan, \"See, doesn't even open. No reason to go in there.\" \n\n\"Mary I saw you rummaging through it yesterday! I saw the cloud of green gas spew out of it!\" \n\n\"How did you-\" Her fingers intertwined at her waist and her eyelashes fluttered, \"Well. I wasn't going to tell you this. But that green gas you saw. Well.\" \n\n\"Finally.\" I mutter. \n\n\"Well. I farted. There, I said it. We're mature adults, I think we can accept that it happens.\" \n\n\"The green gas. Is a fart. you're trying to tell me it was a fart.\" \n\n\"Look I'm embarrassed enough as it is-\"\n\n\"Mary! Farts don't make green gas! It's not a cartoon!\" \n\n\"Well fairies do.\" She muttered. \n\n\"What do? what was that? Speak up.\" \n\nMary folded her arms and looked away. \n\n\"I can see the key in your hand still. I know you can open that chest. And for gods sake Mary, look at me! You've turned me into a mouse!\" I shout, my voice carrying a squeaky tone. I take a few tiny steps towards her, her legs and torso rising high above me, \"We can go order pizza, if you admit-\"\n\n\"I don't know how that happened.\" She said shaking her head. \n\n\"Fine. Just order the pizza. And maybe I'll magically turn back to normal.\" \n\n\"Thank you.\" With a flash of light her cell phone was in her hand.\n\n\"See! SEE! I saw that!\" \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The phone!\"\n\nShe stared at the phone for a moment, \"Well, you don't need to be a witch to own a phone, Michael.\" \n\n\"You know what I mean. It popped into your hand from thin air.\" \n\nShe sneezed, and suddenly I was back to being a person. I fold my arms and glare at her, and as usual she made an unbearable adorable pouty face in return. \n\n\"Hypothetically.\" I begin, \"If you were a witch. Why would you not tell me.\" \n\n\"No reason. It's just silly is all. I mean, witches aren't real. The witches council- erm, I mean, Harry Potter was just a book, Michael, you know how you get caught up in stories. Don't you? Do you want toppings? I think I want peperoni. Humans get that on pizza right?\" \n\n\"Humans?\" I ask. \"Did you just refer to us as humans?\" \n\n\"No I didn't. I said us. As in we. Here, smell this pouch.\" She said, another flash of light and a brown leather pouch appeared in her hand. \n\n\"The forgetting powder? I'm not falling for that again.\" I said. \n\nShe herumphed and stomped her foot.\n\n\"Fine. Fine. Yes we like Pepperonis on our normal pizza. Let's just go back downstairs.\" \n\nShe smiled and dialed in the order. I gave one last look at the mysterious chest before following her downstairs. ", "I couldn't wait to get home from work and relax. \n\nAs usual, I opened the door, took off my shoes and went to hang up my coat... and stopped. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Treacle, our beautiful little husky, sitting there wagging his tail. \n\nBut he was blue.\n\nI don't mean a light tint like a change in colour, or like he rolled around in paint. I mean, he was a bright turquoise shade of blue.\n\n\"Uhhh, Chris, Honey...\" I called out to my boyfriend, waiting for an explanation. I heard some papers quickly being riffled through in his work room just down the hall.\n\n\"Yes, one moment Sarah, just organizing my work. You know it is. Be right there.\"\n\nA moment later he came out of the room, his hair a total mess as always, and reeking of... something. Always that strange odour you can't explain and can't tell if it's extremely pleasant or completely revolting. He walked over to me and planted a kiss on my cheek, putting his arm around me. Oblivious to poor blue Treacle.\n\n\"Have a good day at work, Sarah? Nothing too crazy I hope? I've just been reading up on some...\" I cut him off.\n\n\"Chris. The dog.\"\n\n\"Oh, he was fine all day. Took him for a walk earlier, quite a nice day out.\"\n\n\"No, Chris. He's blue. The dog is blue.\" Chris looks down and smiles at Treacle, and looks back up to me nodding.\n\n\"So he is. That kind of day after all. Seems pretty chipper though.\" I stare at him, controlling every urge to roll my eyes like I'm 15 again.\n\n\"Chris... Dogs don't suddenly just become blue. That's not normal.\" Suddenly his eyes go wide and his mouth forms a little \"o\", and already he starts to become flustered and I know exactly where it's going.\n\n\"OH, yes, I forgot to mention, gave him a little bath. Wrong shampoo, supposed to keep his coat white but must have let it stay in too long, I'm sure it's only temporary.\"\n\nWhen I say Treacle is blue, I mean every single inch. His toes, his eyes, his mouth, his teeth. It's all blue.\n\nKnowing the conversation won't go anywhere as always, I sigh and decide to let him get to fixing the issue.\n\n\"Well, I'm sure with your Master's in 'chemistry' you can create some sort of shampoo that will 'remove' the blue.\" Relieved, Chris nods and runs to the back room with Treacle to turn him back to normal.\n\nI figured out months ago that my boyfriend was a wizard but for some reason he's too stubborn to admit it yet. But with something like this happening almost every day, it's become pretty obvious.\n\nI'm curious how he'll try to explain why my footstool walked away the other day and snickered at me.\n\nEdit: Spelling error.", "The ringing, it was always the endless ringing.\n\nDarrow shuffled his feet as he walked to his front door, coffee mug in hand and eyes barely focused. Every damn morning someone rang his doorbell at six in the morning, and every damn time it was the same guy.\n\n\"Excuse me, Mr. Pilder. I don't mean to bother you again, but it is imperative I speak with your wife.\" A voice like sand paper, a hair cut so exceedingly proper it looked suspicious and a suit tailored perfectly to his well muscled frame. He screamed government dog.\n\n\"Well, Harry. Like I said every morning for the past three weeks, she is away on business. Come back between the 27th and fuck off, and we'll get back to you.\" Darrow didn't wait for a reply, he simply slammed his door. Darrow knew what this was about, it was always the same when these types came around. Suspicion of witchcraft, since her teen years Darrow's wife Valeria was always accused of witchcraft.\n\nA capital offense, punishable by burning at the stake as it was done in Salem and as it always had been done. Darrow knew full well his wife was a witch, she wasn't very subtle. It was either her extravagant 'Victorian Goth' style she loved, or her tendency to chant when she thought he was sleeping, but since they were in grade school he always knew.\n\nValeria was a witch. \n\n\"Who was it, Dar?\" A musical voice called. \n\nDarrow could only smile as he opened the drawer of a desk near the front door. \"Nothing, lovely. Go back to sleep, just a salesman as always.\" Darrow's eyes narrowed as he spoke, scrutinizing Valeria as her eyes flashed shade unnatural.\n\nShe had just read his mind. Always reading his mind. At first Darrow found it invasive, even horrifying. But ten years of marriage, and thirty years of love meant she could do wrong in his eyes. \n\n\"I'm not a witch, Dar. Just let them test me, I can handle it.\" \n\nDarrow exhaled sharply. drawing the gun from the drawer and racking the slide. He pointed it at the closed door and squeezed the trigger in trained, fluid motions. Three shots, center mass. The shots echoed off the hardwood floors, and the unmistakable sound of a weight hitting concrete mixed along side it.\n\n\"Maybe so, Val. Maybe so. But why take the risk?\" Darrow opened the door with a wry smile, and dragged the dead suit into the house. ", "\"Hey babe what's this?\"\nMy lover whipped around. It was like catching a teen beating it off.\nThat's how I knew how she felt, ashamed and embarrassed. But I knew that if I didn't press through the thick uncomfortableness, I would never really get the truth out of her. I extended my arm, holding a thin wooden dowel between my first and middle fingers. I twirled it like a cigarette, examining the arcane arabic sigils burnt into its back.\n\"Looks almost, magical wouldn't you say?\"\nCrisp eyes stared back, these flickering steel orbs beat a staccato rhythm into the room around them, searching less for answers and more for excuses. Their scrutiny interrupted by streaked ribbons of coiled blond hair. \n\"It's a vibrator.\"\nBullshit. As a connoisseur of the finer things in life I could tell this was no hitachi wand, but even to the dying breath, I think with the lesser of my two brains.\n\"So where is the on button?\"\nI whispered these words, softly, almost playfully into her ear, pulling back a strip of hair, and tucking it in place.\nBut as wily as my willy is, it still cannot hold a candle to the evasive powers of my witch. \nA flash of light\nA smoke bomb went off\nI fell to the ground, clutching my shattered eardrums.\nShe is gone, off into her room.\nPain fills the gap between my eyes and ears, an electrical pain.\nI cried.\nA tap on my shoulder alerts me, I hadn't heard come out of her room of course.\nShe wields a vibrator, this time, it's real.\nShe gives me a wink, and starts to unbutton my shirt.\nI screech, quite unaware of how loud I am,\n\"GET ME TO THE HOSPITAL!\"\nShe looks upset, as if I had put her in a time out. Pouting face and all she sulks to the closet and picks up a broom, drapes her legs over the side and offers me a hand.\n\"No fucking way.\" I thought.\nI take her hand, in her palm are the car keys.\n\"you know I can't drive\" She giggles.\nI cry.\n", "\"^^Engorgio\" whispered a muffled voice.\n \n\"Whu-... ooohh, whatever you're doing, don't stooopppp - what were you saying, dear?\" asked the man contendedly.\n \nA pair of brown eyes, framed by shining dark hair, popped into view. \"N-nothing,\" said Cho, though she could gather from the sceptical gaze from her man that he was sceptical. With a sly smile she snuck a hand back undernearth the sheets and watched contently as his eyes rolled back in his skull.\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"Hello, honey,\" greeted Cho her man when he entered his appartment. All day long she'd missed him, so she'd used the extra key he gave her last week and decided to surprise him. From his ear-to-ear smile, she gathered he'd missed her too. He picked her up and twirled around with her there and then in the hallway.\n \n\"Hope that busy worker man of yours didn't he keep you waiting too long.\" he murmered jokingly in her ear.\n \n\"Oh, yes,\" she said coyishly, while he gently lowered her, \"this bachelor pad has nothing to entertain a fair lady such as myself. Even the mirror doesn't work properly, despite my best attempts to repair it.\"\n \n\"You used up a mirror? Oh, that is rich,\" the man laughed and kissed her softly, \"how about we cuddle up in the couch and check out that new flatscreen I go- ... why is there orange smoke coming out of my flatscreen TV?\"\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"And then she said she'd be ready in two more minutes ... so I fired up my PS and started a no-damage run of FFIX.\" concluded his co-worker. All around the water cooler his colleagues erupted in laughter. The man just pondered how nice it was to have a girlfriend that didn't spend ages in the bathroom. He started wondering why she had brought all those bottles and lotions with her when she moved in. No way she could be using them all in the little time she spent there ... but when she emerged she always took his breath away.\n \n\"Hey man, why so sirius?\" his co-worker inquired, slapping him on the back.\n \n\"Oh erh haha ... great story, bro ... ha ... ha.\" he said but he was lost in thoughts again before the end of his sentence.\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"How do I look,\" Cho asked as she stood between him and his new flatscreen.\n \nHis mouth fell open. After what felt ages, he figured some sound should come out of it. \"You look magical.\"\n \n\"Oh, uh, I... uh... I'll be right back,\" Cho said as she ducked back into the bathroom.\n \nThe man was confused. He got that she was nervous about meeting his parents for the first time but didn't expect to elicit such a reaction with his compliment.\n \nHe knocked on the bathroom door and called her name. Nobody answered.\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n \n\"and then the second plumber said, \"Yes, and that's just the top of it\"...\" Cho looked expectantly at her audience. The man winced. He knew she wanted to make a good impression and was very nervous. The joke wasn't half bad either but the tension that had wrecked her all evening long had killed it. Just as he wanted to grab her left hand in comfort, he saw her right one wave under the table. Suddenly his family erupted in giggles and laughter. The remainder of the evening had everyone in an extremely jolly mood not abated in the slightest by his dad sudden fixation on nose pinching.\n \n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"Happy birthday, my sweet,\" said the man, gently kissing his Cho awake.\n \n\"Mrffwwmph,\" was the answered emanating somewhere from the bush of hair and thightly-hugged pillows.\n \nWith a sensible chuckle he slipped out of bed and withdrew the curtains, \"Rise and shine, my beauti-\". He closed them before Cho could complain about the invasive bright light. Quietly he snuck downstairs and dialed into the internet. Launching altavista, he began searching for unusual congregation patterns of owls and what might elicit such behavior.\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"Honey, you here?\" the man said as he popped his head through the kitchen door. Apart from a couple of grocery bags, the kitchen was empty. Diligently he started storing the food away, studying amusedly some of the weirder roots and vegetables she bought. It was a tiny thing but he loved that she stayed connected with her culture without pushing it on him. One of these days he should tell her he doesn't mind Asian cuisine, the man pondered.\n \nAs he poured the sweets into a large glass bowl, which he placed on the coffee table, he noted this was the first time he'd seen her buy candy. Usually it was his sweet tooth responsible for all the cookies that 'mysteriously' appeared in their shopping cart. Absentmindedly he bit a custard cream. A faint pop filled his ears.\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"Honey, you home yet?\" shouted Cho upon entering the place, \"sweetie? Where are y-\" Cho stopped mid-sentence, her face turning pale. On the couch she saw the love of her life patiently waiting amidst a bunch of shedded canary feathers.\n \n\"Honey, I- ... I can explain\" Cho said, unable to keep the panic out of her voice.\n \n\"Oh, can you now?\" he asked, standing up, \"can you explain why I exploded into a giant canary after eating a biscuit? Can you explain all the weird vegetables in our fridge or why you're feeling for that stick you keep up your right sleeve?\"\n \nWith a guilty look she let go of her right arm.\n \nHe smirked, then sighed, and with hurt speaking from his eyes asked, \"Can you explain how we've been together for more than a year and I have to find out I don't know the woman I love?\"\n \nTears welled in Cho's eyes, timidly she stepped closer to him, staring at his chest she said, \"I don't know what to say ... except that ... that I don't want to lose you.\"\n \nSeeing his hurt reflected on her face, he too stepped closer. He wrapped his left arm around her, placed his right hand under her chin and gently lifted her face till she looked into his eyes. \"Hey, we can work through this, okay?\" the man said, \"just no more secrets, can you promise me that?\"\n \nCho nodded silently, wrapped her arms around him and stood on tiptoes to kiss him. As he closed his eyes, he considered she'd never kissed him this intently before. They were all wrapped up in one another. His head spun, his whole world seemed to twist and turn, he felt like up had decided to substitute for both left and down at the same time so those two could enjoy a nice day off at the beach. He had a hard time breathing but the thought of breaking the kiss didn't even occur to him.\n \nWhen Cho finally broke the kiss, he opened his eyes. They were standing in the country side. On his left was a long white fence and shrubbery. Wherever they were, they clearly hadn't left England.\n \n\"Come,\" said Cho, opening the gate with a tap of her wand, \"it's time you met my parents.\"\n \n\n####Author's note:\nI hope you liked this story. If you didn't, I will apologise for wasting your time (just post constructive feedback and I'll get back to you within 3 to 5 businnes days).\n\nIf you want to read more, join me at /r/TheUmpteenthMonkey where I regale visitors with stories and other content.", "I have been discovering things recently on my computer that are odd. I'm seeing ads for custom cauldron manufacturers and hand made brooms in my down time when I surf the web. I have new spices in my cabinet that Jane bought me, stuff like mugwort and calamus root. I have no idea what to put them on, but she says they're great to have around in a pinch. With her, I have burned more candles in the last month than I ever thought I would burn in my life. We just sit together on the couch and watch them burn. It's strangely comforting. She makes these incredible mixed drinks that taste like nothing I have ever had before. She likes to bullshit about putting odd things like hair or blood in them.. But clearly she is joking. Its not like I wouldn't know if that stuff was in there. Oh, and you might wonder who Jane is. Well, she's my girlfriend, I guess. I can't really say for sure, because she comes and goes so freely and so mysteriously that I can't tell exactly where we stand. She and I don't talk like a normal couple, and its kind of strange.. We meet more on random occasions than at any other time. She will be standing at the end of an aisle at the grocery store, she'll seemingly just appear out of nothingness beside me at the park when I am jogging, she will show up behind me at the deli.. And she doesn't have a phone, she says. That's why she wouldn't give me her number when I first met her. She still hasn't given me a number, so I assume its true. The oddest thing is that she almost always knocks on my door when I start thinking it would be nice to have her come over. She comes in, we watch a movie, she cooks this amazing food, and we generally have a great time. Sometimes there is even sex. Amazing, mind twisting sex. I would never complain about these little quirks of hers because its been an exciting time in my life. BUT..\n\nRecently, I have begun to think maybe this is something I should be worried about. And I came upon a stash of what must be her things hidden in a box of old cords and wires I keep in the closet in my room. I tried to avoid opening it out of respect for her, but I couldn't help myself. I mean, why would that be there? Who hides stuff like that? I began to wonder if maybe she is someone I should be afraid of or something, and with my curiosity eating me alive, I decided to open the coarsely hewn, red cloth bag that had been laying among my things in secret. In it there were photos of me sleeping, with weird inscriptions on them that I can't read. There were some bundles of what looks to be human hair, and a smaller sack of bones. Tiny little white bones with designs carved into them. They looked like they came from a bird. like a sparrow or something about that size. Are you saying \"what the fuck\" to yourself? I said it to myself. I said it out loud. There were also some rocks, some dirt in another small sack, and a couple of empty glass vials with nondescript residue clinging to the inside of them. Written on the side of one of them was my name. What the fuck indeed.\n\nShe came over later, and she was acting rather strange. The whole vibe was kinda odd between us, even though I was trying really hard to act like everything was normal. I guess maybe she picked up on it. She kept saying things like \"A little birdy told me you've been up to something\" and making these squinty eyes at me, like she was trying to see through my face and uncover the truth of what I had done that day straight from the images of it imprinted in my brain. She would later brush it off, saying she was just joking, but I had become genuinely scared at this point. I had no idea what to think, and all the things that had happened between us to that point began to bother me quite a bit. How did she seemingly always know where I was? Why did she insist on giving me no way to contact her? What the fuck had I been doing with this girl? Eventually she left after a long and awkward night, but I resolved to man up and confront her the next time I saw her. I blew out the candle we had been watching burn and went to bed, and had the most intense nightmare of my life.\n\nI dreamed that I was running through a red field at night, her chasing me. She had a frightening look about her, as if all the blemishes and uneven features of her normally hauntingly beautiful face had been magnified. She looked evil now. She wore these robes that seemed to glow the same color as the field, that seemed almost like liquid clinging to her skin, pretending to be cloth. I felt a surge of danger rising in me as I ran, screaming \"LEAVE ME ALONE YOU WITCH!!\" But it was one of those dreams where running gets you nowhere. She was right behind me, and I felt that doomed feeling that any second she was going to close a clawed hand around my neck and choke the life out of me as I tried in vain to reconcile this sudden change in my perception of her. My Jane a witch? It made too much sense. The fear overwhelmed me. I felt a cold enveloping me. I woke, sweat covering my skin, my hands clenched against my naked body, my sheets on the floor next to the bed. I was freezing. I noticed the window was open. I didn't remember going to sleep naked, although that is not uncommon for me.\n\nShe was standing in the doorway to my room. \n\n", "\"Darling, have you seen my flash drive?\"\n\nAnna's kitchen was the most disorganized room Chris had ever seen. The counter was littered with cereal boxes, stray plates and forgotten cups of tea. Knives lurked in her dishcloths, waiting to fly out at unwary users, and the floor was white with spilled flour. Stacks of dusty tomes rose like pillars from the floor; mysterious, leather-bound volumes with titles like A Compendium of Love Potions and Cooking Up Magic: A Practical Guide. The only clean surface was the electric stovetop, slowly bending under the weight of a great iron cauldron, in which Anna, the scatterbrained love of his life, was currently brewing tea.\n\n\"Your what?\" she replied, tucking strands of hair behind her pointed hat. \"I don't think…\"\n\n\"Well, it was here,\" Chris insisted. \"And darling, what's with the hat? It's not going to be Halloween for another three months.\" He couldn't resist teasing her about such things, so obvious despite – or perhaps because of – her frequent denials.\n\n\"Oh,\" Anna gasped, reaching up to feel the stiff black fabric. \"I forgot!\"\n\nShe rushed out of the room, flour swirling in her wake, and returned a moment later, hatless and flushed with embarrassment. \"I'm so forgetful!\" she exclaimed. \"Well, at least I'm not a witch! They don't, um, exist…haha…\"\n\n\"Couldn't you, you know, write some magic to help you remember?\" he persisted, now shuffling through scrolls of parchment in search of the elusive drive.\n\n\"No, because I'm not a– And anyways, you don't write magic. You weave it with words and wands. It's not code.\"\n\n\"You certainly have a lot of writing about magic,\" Chris pointed out, now crawling across the floor. \"Anyway, speaking of code, are you absolutely sure you haven't seen my flash drive? It's got all my project backups on it.\"\n\n\"That's not– Oh!\" Anna exclaimed as a faint tap-tap-tapping echoed in the hall. \"I know where it went!\" She dashed out of the room again, pulling a long, thin stick from some hidden pocket of her flowing dress.\n\n\"Well, what's that, if not your magic–\"\n\n\"It's a fancy chopstick,\" Anna snapped, leaping over a heap of scrolls in her sudden, mad dash through the apartment. A faint tapping preceded her before fading into the living room. \"Come back–\" she shouted at nothing, leaving Chris at the counter, perplexed. A jet of sparks shot out the end of the \"chopstick\" as she rounded the corner into the kitchen once again, and with a flash, something…appeared on the floor.\n\nIt was a laptop. With legs.\n\n\"Bad Mimi!\" Anna scolded, advancing on the strange machine. \"That's not your drive. Give it back!\"\n\nThe laptop growled, but a threatening flick of Anna's wand silenced its speakers. Squeak, it said, trying to scurry into a drawer.\n\n\"Eject it!\" she commanded. Red sparks danced in her hand, and the laptop hurriedly ejected Chris's drive and ran away, it's light feet tap-tap-tapping against the tiled floor.\n\n\"Honestly, that machine is the most poorly-trained, disobedient thing…\" She trailed off, catching Chris's half-astonished, half-amused gaze. \"No, I'm not a–\"\n\n\"Witch, I know. It's okay. Can I have my flash drive back?\" he asked, shaking his head in silent amazement.\n\n*****\n\nEdit: Wow, my first gilded post! Thank you!!!" ]	[ 4, 5, 5, 6, 9, 10, 16, 21, 242 ]	[ "1439877395", "1439911467", "1439917758", "1439907465", "1439880586", "1439869255", "1439884042", "1439884101", "1439875066" ]
	[WP] You are dictator of North Korea and all You wanted to do is to do good things for your people but it always go wrong.	3	[ "My name is Kim Jong-un. I am the Supreme Leader of North Korea and my family has ruled for more than half a century. I am writing this to hopefully educate the world as to my intentions and how they have been misconstrued. \n\nBefore I begin, I'd like to state that I am responsible for 24 million people. 24 million people look to me for guidance and I do the best that anyone could possibly do in these circumstances. \n\nPeople have criticized me for the work camps I have. In North Korea, we have zero unemployment because everyone works. The only way that the glory of North Korea can maintain itself is if its people work as diligently as possible. If people do not want to work or they do no agree with the work they are provided with, they must be compelled to work for if we do not compel these lazy parasites, it would bring the entire country's economy to its knees. If lazy, do-nothings end up dying in the process so that a hardworking farmer can make a living, I will take that burden gladly for that is the role that I must play as Supreme Leader.\n\nOne thing that really bothers me is that people keep mentioning how I \"killed\" my uncle. I didn't kill my uncle nor did I have him killed. This was merely a miscommunication. I told one of my generals about the situation and that was what they chose to do. My uncle was a traitor so I feel no remorse at his death. In fact, each dissenting word weakens the overall voice of the True Korean people, so what happened can not be construed as a tragedy but rather a resolution of antagonistic forces within my country.\n\nFinally, people are saying that I've created ICBMs so that I can nuke America. My country is the greatest country in the world and yet we cannot retaliate against America if attacked by them. How does it look when the greatest country in the world has less nuclear weapons and is unable to defend itself from another country? I created the ICBMs not to attack another country but for the glory of the True Korean people.\n\nI hope that this has shed light on what I have attempted to accomplish and hope that history will show my good deeds in a better light than the world's media has. \n\n", "'Pointless, pointless, pointless,' I screamed internally, my aid watching in abject fear as I jammed a pointless pencil on the blue-prints I had shown my military commanders a mere half an hour past. \n\n\"Please Lord, allow me to take this away-- Eahhhh!!!\" \n\n\"Oh God, Min I'm sorry!\" I probably looked some ghastly sight. A blood fisted mad-man ambling after him like some sort of zombie. He pushed himself backwards, and I, naturally, a second too late, while he plummeted six stories from the balcony. \n\nI overlooked the gardens, my personal guards eschewing any sign that they noticed what happened to my favorite servingman. Min, another name for the list. There he would rest beside a multitude of my family and beloved countrymen-- and his true self sent off to the incinerators. Hah, another name for the accidental slaves I created to whisper in fear behind my back. \n\nPerhaps I should have forsaken this burden, my curse. And were it not the alternative, giving my country over to one of my commanders intentionally doing harm I might have already relinquished the title I never wanted. They called me barbarous in the UK for all the people starving in my name. In America, a tyrant who lorded his military might over a liberty thirsting country. Every man, women, and child would do better to flee over miles of intractable wilderness and mines and razor wire than be ruled by me. \n\nMy blue-prints-- my dream. The cleverest design all my schooling in Switzerland could conceivably come up with. A real life food replicator, made possible with only a few western parts, misconstrued for a torture device. These war-mongering generals could never imagine their brutal dictator, God, and father, as anything other than what I am-- or what the results of my actions make me out to be. \n\nDo my intentions even matter, or am I still a murderous bastard? Because despite my programs to feed the hungry, disband the troops, reestablish relations with the outside world, something would happen. A bomb would go off, an insurrection would mount, the UN might lead an onslaught of crippling sanctions that further stay my power to change. I am forced by circumstance to do what is necessary. \n\nSure, Min didn't deserve to die for mislabeling my plans, but at this point, what is one more body in the midden heap of my regret? Every attempt at goodness has left me drawn and quartered, perhaps it is time to take a different approach. \n\nSomehow I will fix my mistakes. Somehow I will save my countrymen-- save us-- from this nightmare. " ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1439994976", "1439967702" ]
	[WP] Granny was an amazing cook but never shared her recipes. Ever. When she died Jane went to copy recipes for her favorite dishes but discovered granny's recipes called for unorthodox ingredients.	94	[ "Ingredients for Grandma's Sweet Home-Made Cookies:\n\n* 350g plain flour\n* 1 tbsp ground ginger\n* 1 tsp bicarbonate of soda\n* 175g obsidian nitrate\n* 100g butter, chopped\n* 2-3 otherwordly portal demons (dependant on size)\n* 1 large mecha-ostrich egg (3-4 chicken eggs also acceptable)\n* 4 tbsp golden syrup\n* 7 Norwegian men who are insistent that they're called \"Sven\" when you know they have severe Split Personality Disorder and are actually called David\n* 200g caster sugar\n\nRecipe:\n\n* Mix the flour, ground ginger, obsidian nitrate and sugar in a bowl, then rub in the butter to make crumbs.\n\n* Travel through the Nether portal, and claim the head of the Otherworldly Warlord, Va'Kanuz'zek. Sacrifice his head to the Blood Demons of the Deathknell in order to evoke the Spell Of Bloodbinding Sacrifice. Enslave several otherworldly portal demons - keep a few in storage for future recipes! Beat together the mecha-ostrich egg and syrup, pour into the dry ingredients and stir, then knead with your hands to make a dough. Split open the heads of 2-3 otherworldly portal demons with the same sacrificial blade used to slay the Otherworldly Warlord, and spill their blood into the mixture, kneading for consistency. Cut the dough in half and shape each piece into a thick sausage about 6cm across, making sure that the ends are straight. Wrap in cling film and chill for 20 mins. You can now freeze all or part of the dough for 2 months (although keeping the Norwegian men fed for this amount of time is extremely difficult.)\n* Pre-Heat the oven to 180C/160C fan/gas 4 and line 2 baking sheets with baking parchment. Thickly slice each sausage into 12 and put the slices on the baking sheets, spacing them well apart and reshaping any, if necessary, to make rounds. Bring in the Norwegian men, and provoke an argument between them and the uncooked cookies about the Norwegian men's true identity. If done correctly, the yells of the Norwegian men should resonate in unison, forming a chorus and embossing the cookies with a distinctly Norwegian taste. Comfort the Norwegian men - they've just had a rough argument, and didn't mean anything they said. Bake for 12 mins, then leave to cool for a few mins to harden before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.\n* Serve to the family. If they question why there's 7 sobbing Norwegian men screaming that they're called Sven in the front room, tell them that it's just the television.", "Sam looked through her grandmother's recipe book, loose papers, tattered and leather bound. The thin scribbled words, written in black ink trailed and crawled over the yellowing parchment, stained with splashes of the recipes it contained.\n\nHer grandmother's script was small and sometimes illegibility scrawled. Sometimes lines were crossed out and footnotes and additions added in the columns where Grandma had experimented and improved her craft. Sam's eyes narrowed, her forehead lined with focus on the ingredients that her grandmother had held secret for so long.\n\nThe instructions seemed clear for the most part, it was these amendments that were peculiar. They were not so much ingredients as they were the eccentricity's of the old.\n\n\"Talk to yourself out loud about the news\" was one, with a line to an addition, \"bad news makes sweet, good news makes bitter later down the page.\n\n\"While soup boils call family. End call once water is boiling\"\n\n\"Meat is best when cooking for someone in the room.\"\n\n\"Rice need to be checked and stirred counterclockwise\"\n\n\"Cookies must sit for 5 minutes by an open window to cool. Let no one touch them!\"", "Two days after Granny's funeral, Jane went back to work. By the end of the week, she was no longer sneaking into the copy room for an afternoon cry.\n\nShe went to her children's school play the following Monday, and found herself genuinely laughing at the jokes; and by the time the realtor called with the news that Granny's apartment had sold, Jane could no longer clearly picture her grandmother's face.\n\nShe moved on. She picked up the pieces. It was surprising, really, how easy it was.\n\nIt was not until Christmas, when the first batch of cookies came out all wrong, that Jane found the yawning absence where Granny used to be.\n\nJane had salvaged Granny's recipe box from the cluttered apartment, had hoarded it and clutched at it and wheedled with her cousins until she was permitted to keep it. Granny was in each of these cards, in every recipe, in the very wood of the recipe box itself; and so long as Jane had them, she could resurrect Granny with every pot roast and casserole and morning glory muffin.\n\nThat's what she had thought.\n\nIt wasn't until Jane pulled the first tray of Christmas cookies out of the oven, runny and flattened and burned around the edges, that Granny truly died.\n\nFurther failures followed: a birthday cake, leaden and tasteless; a pot of meatballs that fell apart and stuck to one another; a pudding that never thickened, remaining stubbornly liquid and sloshy no matter how long or thoroughly it was chilled. Jane had lost her.\n\nIt wasn't her fault. She followed the recipes meticulously, weighing sugar and mincing onions with the kind of intensity normally reserved for munitions experts. The recipes never worked, but she kept cooking, fingering the softened corners of the recipe cards and smiling fondly at the small glimpses they offered at Granny's whimsy: \"Add sunlight coming through the grass late on a summer afternoon,\" Granny had written in one place, and \"Mix with two parts melancholy,\" in another.\n\nIn desperation, Jane began adding pieces of herself. And the recipes began to work.\n\nShe gave up an early memory of being wrapped in a flannel blanket, and in return received a perfect vegetable stew. She made cobbler by stirring berries, sugar, lemon, and cornstarch together with the feeling of bare skin pricked by blackberry brambles. Years later, when her twins turned twenty, she made a spectacular tiered cake with the memory of their birth, towering and brightly frosted and festooned in crackling, sparkling candles.\n\nShe grew lighter. Less substantial. People remarked how much she resembled her grandmother. Jane had noticed it herself: the steady way in which she was becoming untethered, as she prepared and served the pieces of her life. The way in which she moved lightly and smiled softly and sifted flour, almost exactly the way Granny had.\n\nIt was, Jane thought, the perfect way to go. A beautiful detachment.\n\nNourishing." ]	[ 2, 9, 113 ]	[ "1440016397", "1440013054", "1439996249" ]
(title)	[WP] A story that starts with a line meaning one thing, only to end with the same line meaning the opposite	2	[ "\"Children make delightful snacks. The way they squeal with excitement as their tiny fingers go about crafting scrumptious goodies to eat. I can still recall their sweet laughter, their piggish smiles, and their filled bellies just moments ago. Of course, that was before all the screaming,\" I say with a wicked grin, scooping another bite into my mouth, \"Children make delightful snacks.\"", "I love being with her. Every second of every day, ever beat of my heart, every blink of my eyes; I wish we could always be together. I love her and she loves me. She greets me when I come home from work, gives me a big hug and every time I look into her eyes I feel a little better about myself, how could I be having a bad time when I can come home to her, when I can be with my love. We do everything together, long walks, sleepy Saturdays, and watching Television. I love everything about her, her eyes, her attitude, and her name. I love her name because I picked it out when I saw her for the first time at the pound. I love being with her. " ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1440057232", "1440023633" ]
	[WP] Diary of the Booty Shaking Plague Year	0	[ "Day 27, Year 1: While trying to find uncontaminated food, I found one strange new place, and the only thing I can say about it is- They were shaking it to Pachelbel's Canon in D Major. ", "April 10th, 1733: Dearest Juliet, it is for you that I keep these notes. The twerking began at midnight. Alone, lying in bed, my posterior began to violently convulse as if possessed; with God’s help, I will see the end of this trial.\n\n\nApril 13th, 1733: Madness has begun to set in; dementia, fugues, and an unnerving feeling of unease. As my back end continues in its agitation, I think only of the sweet embrace of sleep and you, dearest Juliet.\n\n\nApril 18th, 1733: For days now have my buttocks vibrated; shaking and twisting, the doctors tell me of such similar cases in Sussex and Kent, although thankfully they remain isolated. Mine is the first of such cases in Norfolk. Dearest Juliet, I pray the mainland remains free of such a plague.\n\n\nApril 24th, 1733: A fortnight this disease has plagued me. Wracked in sweat, my posterior knows no relief from these terrible vibrations. Master Johanneson has ended my clerkship; my writing in recent days has suffered and he has no sympathy with those affected by ‘Devil’s Buttocks’, as it is now being referred. Mine was just the first of such cases in Norfolk; half the shire is embroiled in the plague. I am an outcast of my community. They blame me for bringing the plague to this peaceful place.\n\n\nApril 29th, 1733: Dearest Julia, I hear of hope from the mainland! Although Paris has fallen to this plague, rumor says that the finest doctors of Vienna have developed a cure for their bastard Prince, lately affected by the Devils Buttocks. I pray that God keep you safe in far Florence; I dream of your safe return and a reprieve from this affliction.\n\n\nMay 7th, 1733: Delirious, I shake without ceasing. I have not had a moments peace in the past month. My legs tighten and constrict, although my rump is pleasantly firm. Rumor swirls that young Princess Caroline has the affliction. I have been detained by the guard and questioned for any heretical deeds that may have brought this affliction upon me. They allow me letters, although I am unsure of whether they shall ever reach you, my darling. I pray that God see me through this trial.\n\n\nMay 16th, 1733: A day of Release! When I awoke in a stupor this morning, my buttocks had ceased its gyration. Dearest Juliet, I pray now only for your safety. The guards talk amongst themselves, mentioning the fires of Paris and Vienna. They say that Venice has long been abandoned, but they know nothing of your own city of Florence. \n\n\nMay 19th, 1733: It has returned. Dearest Juliet, I now relinquish myself unto GOD, our holy redeemer, praying that I will find peace from this infernal Devils Buttocks by his side in heaven. Farewell Dearest Juliet.\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1440080259", "1440077610" ]
	[WP] Hillary Clinton is the next president and hands Texas back to Mexico in a good will gesture. Overnight, Texans become Mexicans.	8	[ "\"Madam President, what were you thinking\" One of her advisors members asked her?\n\n\"What do you mean?\" Hilary said in a confident tone. \"No one in the USA liked Texas and now we have gotten rid of that state.\"\n\n\"That being besides the point, Texas has most of the US oil refineries. As of this morning Mexico as almost doubled the price of gasoline being exported to the USA.\" The advisor said.\n\n\"Well that is no big loss. Besides we can just cut food exports to Mexico, doing that should easily get Mexico to lower the price of gasoline.\" Hilary said.\n\n\"Madam President, all the agricultural land in Texas can easily feed everyone in Mexico now. Don't say you will send the military in there you forgot to move the military forces that were in Texas out. Currently Mexico now has 23 military bases as well as over 100,000 soldiers. Also Texans have a large number of firearms so if you do send the military you will have to deal with the Mexican military as well as numerous civilians fighting as well.\" The advisor replied\n\n\"This is just a temporary setback, I'm sure that Mexico will calm down and everything will go back to normal soon.\" \n\n\"How are things going to go back to normal anytime soon? Currently the stock market is tanking because the cost of everyday items has already doubled because the cost of fuel has doubled. People are already worried that this is not going to get better anytime soon. Also before you exiled Texas they moved their state gold reserve back to Texas, so right now Mexico acquired over a billion dollars worth of gold. From what my sources have been telling me Mexico is planning on creating it's own gold standard based currency in the near future.\" The advisor replied back.\n\n\"Ok then, we go and tell Mexico that we want Texas back and then everything will go back to normal.\" Hilary said.\n\n\"Good luck with that, Texas has already decided to stay with Mexico. Once you got rid of them they decided it was best to move on and rejoin Mexico.\"\n\n\"Well with all the violence and cartel issues in Mexico I bet it won't be long before Texas is begging to rejoin us.\" Hilary said.\n\n\"Cartel issues, the Texan's are wiping them out as we speak. They were tired of the US doing nothing to stop them and the Mexicans who had to deal with them wanted to fight back but couldn't. Right now members of the newly formed TexMex Militia are going through Mexico killing any cartel members they find. As of right now the cartels are heading into Central America, they are realizing that it is safer for them there.\"\n\n\"Ok then, what do I do to solve this problem?\" Hilary said not sure what to do now.\n\n\"Simple, resign, have your VP give you a pardon and move to another country.\" The advisor said. \"At this point there is no way to salvage this.\"", "Translated from Spanish\n\nHello and God Bless,\n\nThis El Presidente Englishgrinn and I come to you, a man humbled by the generous and well-intentioned act of goodwill, Mrs. President Hillary Clinton has offered our proud nation. The United States of America, its government and its people have offered us a great deal of territory, a great many people and a grand gesture. For all of which, we are grateful and appreciative.\n\nHowever....\n\nWe have chosen to, for the time being, politely refrain from retaining ownership over the state of Texas. There are several reasons for this, listed in no particular order.\n\n1) Texas holds more American military personnel than any other state, although not the most military bases or facilities. Admittedly, this based on a rather subjective assessment of public materials, but given that American military spending is roughly $610 billion dollars a year, and that our... more reserved nation has spent only $59 billion dollars on defense in the passed ten, we are not eager to assume any additional defense spending at this time. It would appear that this might mean either creating a depression for the people of Texas, or vastly over inflating our defense budget, which we cannot afford. Also, the flow of firearms and ammunition into our country from the United States cough Fast and Furious cough is an ongoing concern which would be exacerbated by this transition. \n\n2) Texas appears to be an educational hub for the entire United States, apparently responsible for the design and content of nearly every text book used in your country. We would not want your thoughtful gift to go crippling your proud educational traditions. Also, despite a great deal of religiosity from in our country, we are undoubtedly a people of strong faith, we actually have a great ratio of people who believe in evolution and we'd like to keep it that way.\n\n3) There is a subset, a vocal minority really, of politicians in this country who view this as a little more than a ploy than to send us a bunch of \"rapists, murderers and drug dealers\". They suggest that perhaps Texans are \"not your best\". I have to stress that no one takes the individuals who said that seriously, and they are more of a novelty than serious political players. But I could understand if you were offended that we keep putting them on TV.\n\nSo with the highest regard for the USA and her people. I would just like to say on behalf of Mexico... thanks but no thanks.\"\n\nWarning, \"facts\" found El Presidente's speech are not fact-checked or edited in anyway. Englishgrinn has never been elected or held an elected office in Mexico. He does not represent Mexico in any fashion, either in reality or any fictional universe." ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1440093501", "1440092880" ]
I'm interested in reading a story that doesn't rely on technology to illustrate a futuristic change in humanity. But also one where the conflict doesn't derive from surviving an apocalypse.	[WP] Write a futuristic story without referring to technology or an apocalypse.	40	[ "### Ghost Cities\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIn 1972, people believed by now we'd have figured out how to read minds. That circulating folklore riddled pop-culture, and I remember telling my Uncle, right before I wiped that smug smile off his face and rendered him mindless, that it was true. \n\nExams were easy when you could trawl the collective conscious of your classmates. But why bother?\n\nAround me these whingey, panicky, uncouth humanoids clog around in their corporate jackets and their gum boots in the rain. Commuting with umbrellas dripping, poking out eyes with legal weapons, sheltering from light rain like it’s the tide of the death-bringer. \n\nThese snotty, snivelly, freezing hipsters, complaining of taxes and unemployment. Dying constantly. Being born unpunctually. Suing each other. Screwing each other. Complaining of low wages and blowing it all on Friday night drinks and a weekend hangover.\n\nIn 1972 everyone thought we’d be a far flung race occupying earth’s in star systems light-years away. It was obvious, but they would only ever do the same thing. Live their own lives, and try to get those cliché traditional jobs like a doctor and a fireman. \n\nI could have done it too. And I did. For a time.\n\nI remember the day I realised aging was a disorder I could correct with a conscious adjustment in the mind. There were 9 billion people in the world and I was older than most of them. To claim the oldest I’d have to kill, and of all the things I was good at, that wasn’t one of them.\n\nWhen I was young, they were building ghost cities in China. And I took a train, similar to this one, through a vacant, future city and I realised my fate. I knew I would never die, and the plan’s I'd been forming in my mind about expanding the human race suddenly crashed in my mind. \n\nI realised I could do it. This world, with its cities aching with growing pains, continent’s crying for food, and a southern continent suffering the weight of invasion, didn’t have to be the only one. It seemed logical. Another world would make a colossal difference. I realised I could do it. And then I traveled China. \n\nI saw the ghost cities and I envision a world, named after its creator. Named after me. I rode a train through China and thought about the size of the population that could occupy my world, and realised the dream would never materialise. I’d create a ghost world and, if it was someone else who had built it, I’d laugh at them and think of all the better things they could have done.\n\nAnd so I sit here on the train having just handed over every cent I ever earned in my long, laborious life, to Annette Porren who still has no idea who I am. Philanthropy was never my forte and I’m hoping when she finds out she’ll do the right thing and make the world a better place. Something I never had the balls to do. \n\nI ride around in an uber-modern carriage on a dual line of iron rails, rusted with decades of use and layers of brake dust. We shoot along on brand new wheels, through a tunnel lined with graffitied brick walls with mortar mixed hundreds of years prior, lit by glass light bulbs blown in the nineties. We exit the tunnel to some abandoned burned out factory on our left, and a capitalist, aristocrat masterpiece on our right, and I think, for the first time in a long time, perhaps I will do something good today.\n\nThe doors open, people exit and my eye sees far away. Covered in old, mismatched stained rags, a fingerless-gloved man looks for nourishment in a plastic-line trash can, smiling and brimming with positivity.\n\nHe inspires me and I chase after him to seek his wisdom.\n", "\"Zao!\" the boy finally said. He waved his closed hand, gesturing like what the old folks would call a 'thenItalian.'\n\nMared, Ilsa thought. He had hoped to travel in peace and quiet, but the boy had been sitting restless for over an hour. The attendant hadn't yet arrived with cafè. \n\nHis father gave a startled grunt before resuming his quiet snooze, a couple seats over. Ilsa looked at him for a second, wondering if he'd seen the man before. The back of his head heated and cooled for a quick second, and a surprised Ilsa at once resigned to expend whatever social energy he could muster on the kid.\n\n\"Zao,\" Ilsa smiled, as genuinely as possible. \n\n\"You go for business o happiness?\" \n\nIlsa was wearing khakis and a flapped shirt but clearly the boy couldn't deduce the answer. There was a time when people actually dressed up for these sorts of things, but as the saying goes, \"culture casualizes.\"\n\n\"Business. Ni tú?\" Ilsa tested the boy's sense of humor. \n\nThe boy gave a serious stern look, \"no...\" \n\nShame-shame, sighed Ilsa to himself. \"Y ni go then?\" \n\n\"Because mommom no longer here, and I cannot home alone.\"\n\nAh, thought Ilsa. So the boy really is the Leader's son. ", "Every major change in humanity has been precipitated by a technological shift or a small end of the world.\n\nThe European discovery of the New World pretty much ended the Native American's way of life, but it brought forth a whole new world of possibilities for Europeans. The invention of the telegraph made the world small and smaller with each new iteration. But we did it. We changed the world for the better: world peace.\n\nIt was a simple idea and it all started with the impending Korean War. North Korea and South Korea had been going back and forth and they were days away from full-on conflict. China and the US were able to broker a deal where each country nominated a champion and they would fight to the death. The winner governed the loser's territory for the next year when another championship would be begin. Everyone thought that South Korea was a lock because most of North Korea's people were starving to death.\n\nThey didn't know about Song Hyun Woo. He was seven feet tall and used to fight for food in one of the huge work camps. He fought 125 people and killed every single one.\n\nIt was a massacre. South Korea's guy was killed in the first ten seconds. South Korea tried to back out, but one of the terms of the deal was that the supporting country, in this case China, would help nuke the losing country if they didn't follow through with it.\n\nThis particular deal ended really badly for all parties involved. North Korea ran South Korea into the ground and the united country erupted into civil war again. \n\nThe only good that came from it was other countries started seeing that as an example and decided to settle their differences through champion combat. No country goes to war against another country now. It's just too much wasted resources. \n\nWe still have a load of civil wars but that's inescapable. Nothing can be done about that, but at least we're one step away from complete and total world peace. ", "\"Mom do we have to spend the week at grandmas?\" Alan asked. \"She lives in the middle of nowhere.\" \n\n\"Venus isn't nowhere. It's an entire planet.\" His mother corrected him. \n\n\"Yea a planet of old people. It's like how people describe what Florida was like in the old days.\"\n\n\"Exactly. Beaches. Sun. It's always warm there. A perfect place to vacation.\"\n\n\"If you like the smell of sulfur and death...\" He said under his breath. \n\n\"Besides, how much do you even know about Earth? It's not like you've ever been there.\"\n\n\"Mom I'm in 5th grade. Earth History is 4th grade. I'm not a little kid.\"\n\n\"They do not teacher you 4000 years of history in a single school year. You know less than you think young man. Kevin back me up here.\"\n\nHer husband was totally engrossed in driving. \"What? Yea 4000 year's sounds about how many years Earth History would cover.\"\n\n\"That's not what I... Never mind. Alan just... play the license plate game.\"\n\nAlan looked out the window. Finding most the plates would be easy but people from Pluto never really left their end of the solar system. Kids in school said it was because they were made of ice and being this close to the sun would cause them to melt, but Alan knew that wasn't possible. Biology this year already taught him that carbon was necessary for life and ice is not carbon.\n\nThey only had another hour before they got to his grandmothers but Alan knew the next week would be hell.", "Ted sat in his cubicle entering data. He didn't know what the data meant or what entering it led to or if he should kill himself but for the moment he stuck to just putting the numbers in the box and hitting enter.\n\n\"Ted, in my office\" said his boss\n\nTed rolled back from his desk and went into his bosses office.\n\n\"We have a job for you.\"\n\n\"I already have a job. Wait we?\" said Ted.\n\n\"Yes we.\"\n\n\"Ahh\" said Ted as the president of Work City stepped out of the corner.\n\n\"Were you hiding behind his plant?\" said Ted.\n\nPause.\n\n\"No\" said the President.\n\n\"You definitely were,\" said Ted.\n\n\"No I wasn't.\"\n\n\"Can we…\" said Ted's boss.\n\n\"Oh right. Yeah we need you to deliver something,\" said the president.\n\n\"I'm not a delivery man,\" said Ted.\n\n\"Oh really,\" said the president.\n\n\"Yeah I enter data.\"\n\n\"And why do you enter data?\"\n\n\"Because it's my job.\"\n\n\"Ah, a job.\"\n\n\"Yup\"\n\n\"A job that you have because you live in Work City.\"\n\nTed sighed.\n\n\"And what is the first rule of Work City.\"\n\nTed sighed again.\n\n\"I'm waiting.\"\n\n\"Working is what we do,\" said Ted.\n\n\"Exactly, so if we give you a job, you say how high.\"\n\nTed's boss motioned for the president to come closer. He whispered something into his ear.\n\n\"Right, if I say jump you do the job,\" said the president.\n\nTed's boss sighed.\n\n\"Can I go?\" said Ted.\n\n…\n\nHe got through Liberal City alright, but that was just a matter of throwing out every pamphlet he got as soon as he was around the corner.\n\nConservative (the alright kind) Town was pretty easy too.\n\nThere was a bit of trouble with Conservative (The bat shit insane kind) Town but as soon as he proved he was white and had a job the cops stopped shooting at him.\n\nThe real slowdown came right on the border of Art Towne because he got stopped for half an hour by a performance art piece that had broken out in the street. He gathered it had to do with how industry was eroding the human should, on account of it was a guy with a shirt that said 'industry' beating the shit out of a guy with a shirt that said 'soul' and then taking his wallet.\n\nTed felt it was ultimately empty because he didn't believe for a second either person had ever had a job.\n\nAlso it might have been a mugging.\n\n…\n\nTed shouldered his way through the protestors outside social justice warrior town hall. They were apparently protesting the lack of an option to not have to tick off a box signifying gender on medical forms.\n\nAnd also the profound lack of doctors.\n\nAfter being called part of the white-ocrocy (by a white person) and being told that the Y chromosome was a mistake (by a guy who Ted was 98 percent certain was trying to get laid) he made it into town hall.\n\nThere were no guards (according to a card at the entrance that would be oppressive) he walked into the mayors office and put the package on her desk.\n\n\"You're thinking of me as a she aren't you?\" said the mayor\n\n\"Uhm…\"\n\n\"Because that's a thought crime\"\n\n\"Can I go now?\" said Ted.\n\n\"Please do before your intolerance rubs off on me\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Wait\" said the mayor.\n\n\"What?\" said Ted.\n\n\"These are dick picks\" said the Mayor, pulling polaroids of penises out of the box.\n\n\"Where would they even get a pol…hipster city,\" said Ted \"Oh shit\"\n\n…\n\nTed kicked open the door into his bosses office.\n\n\"Ow\" said the president as Ted entered the room. Ted looked behind the door. The president was holding his stomach where the door knob would have hit him.\n\n\"Stop hiding in corners,\" said Ted, \"And also what the shit?\"\n\n\"Oh come on, it was funny,\" said Ted's boss.\n\n\"No it was just a sex crime\" said Ted.\n\n\"What are they going to do?\" said the President coming to stand behind Ted's boss.\n\n\"They're going to write you an angry open letter on their tumblr, it's, pretty much all they do.\"\n\n\"Yeah I don't read that,\" said Ted's Boss.\n\n\"No one does but still, don't be a dick.\"\n\n\"Like those pictures we sent,\" said the president, high-fiving Ted's boss before stepping back into the corner behind the plant.\n\n\"Fuck this I'm going to move to Libertarian Island and get baked,\" said Ted.\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 4, 5, 26 ]	[ "1440123294", "1440146184", "1440122736", "1440118653", "1440118071" ]
	[WP] You are an attorney. A client tells you he's found a genie and wants your help in crafting a wish with no ironic loopholes the genie can exploit. Your retainer fee is the third wish.	1,431	[ "My client's wish was deceptively simple. In fact, my client was my former classmate and best friend; that's why he came to me. He was desperate. Law school was never cheap. He just wanted all his money worries to go away. He showed me a legal pad with various figures on it, but I told him, \"Put that away. No numbers. I've got a better idea.\"\n\n\nSlowly, over the next several hours, the wish took shape. I even typed up the exact wording myself, careful to specify that I was allowed to read his wish out in his place. I didn't want him messing it up. We had to be exact.\n\n\nI finally had my client rub the lamp three days later, after we'd thought of all contingencies. After some argument over whether I was allowed to read the wish, I prevailed, coughed, and began to read.\n\n\n\"My client's wish is that he would always have enough money to buy whatever it is he wants, whenever he wants it. \"Whatever it is he wants\" encompasses properties, investments, intangibles, stock, companies, and anything else that is in existence. He wishes also to pass the aforementioned things, tangible or not, on to family and friends, upon his gift or death. The attorney's fees for so doing will encompass the price to \"buy\" that right.\n\n\n\"Whenever he wants it\" here means that at any time or place or in any situation, my client will be able to buy whatever he wants to in a reasonably commercially available matter. That he wants things will not change. As for what he wants, my client shall continue to want things as he would if he had come across the same amount of money as he spends, in a non-wish context.\n\n\"Commercially available\" means that all stores, investors, brokers, estate agents, restaurants, and anyone involved in any monetary transaction with my client shall maintain their usual hours, availability, and shipping and delivery methods. My client shall be able to use that availability as would any other consumer. This term also encompasses innovation and market issues. To preserve availability, innovation, technology, construction, finance, and overall change will continue at the same pace as if this wish were not made. Inflation will cap at 10% and vary, ranging between 2 and 10% on a 100-year-basis. The world markets and the world as a whole will continue as if the wish were not made.\n\n\nThe money will come from your own magic powers. It is not to be taken from other persons or entities in any way, shape, or form, past, present, or future. The introduction of such \"wish money\" will not in any way disrupt any market except as works in my client's favor.\n\n\nThe money will be made available at the conclusion of this meeting to my client. He will receive the money in the form of a universal debit card in his own full name. The account it is linked to will also be in my client's name, with no freezes or any other encumbrances on the account. The said card will appear 30 seconds after the conclusion of the wish, on this portion of my desk here-\" I pointed- \"The card will be of the dimensions of a standard ATM card and be fully visible and usable as if it were a card that did not come about as a result of the wish. The card shall be usable to pay off any and all items, investments, property, debts, intangibles, and other items not specified, regardless of whether being able to pay with a card is a standard feature of the transaction. The card will never fail, will never need to be renewed, and will never be subject to a challenge by any seller. The card will not incur fees at any ATM worldwide. ATMs and online banking and purchasing will continue to be available and usable to my client to the same extent as if he were purchasing or banking using non-wish money. My client will never incur any debt or consequence, legal or otherwise, from his use of this card.\"\n\n\nThe next thing was what would save me, but I knew he would never forgive me for horning in on his one wish. But, I was even worse off. I was just starting my own practice, and could barely afford to eat some days. I pretended to scan my notes, and whispered, so that my friend would not hear, \"The entirety of this wish and all of its cocomitant obligations and conditions is also to apply to myself. I will, however, receive my card in my wallet.\"\n\n\nI then dismissed the genie and my friend with an airy wave of my hand. \"I don't need the retainer fee. Consider it my first real pro bono work.\"\n\n\n(I AM actually an attorney; well, nearly, I find out if I pass the bar in October. Let me know if I got all the loopholes!)", "1. Imbue me with the necessary power to grant wishes.\n2. Grant me the knowledge and wisdom to use such power wisely and justly.\n3. Give me the capacity to exercise such power without harm to myself or others.t", "The moment Mr. Singh walked into my office I knew something was off. He was considered one of the Clients that would normally be handled by someone with more job experience and higher standing within our firm.\n\nAfter the door to my office fell into the doorway he told me how he came to posses the artifact that I was about to obsess over for the next few days.\n\n\"Your superiors have been telling me that you are the most creative lawyer of the firm\" he said, while he lit a cheap bedii, which I anticipated to fill the air with the usual stench of low grade tobacco scraps and braced myself for it.\n\nHe had been playing with a Saudi prince , someone thrice removed from the main royal line, in a card game and won it \"fair and square\" a terminology that I was surprised to hear from the overlord of the Indian drug and sex trade, a guy who supposedly would have you hung by the balls from a bridge in your hometown if you were to talk about his business to anyone.\n\nWe at the firm were his legal counsel in the EU, supposed to shield him from charges and if possible provide scapegoats in case anything turned ugly, which could happen at any second. Henry, a colleague I met during my first weeks working there, for example had gone missing after one of Mr. Singhs fuck ups, in which a couple women were killed by one of Singhs \"associates\" because the services they provided weren't to his liking. Two weeks later police had found Henry, hanging from a steel bar in an abandoned steel mill, a signed confession written in his own blood and a couple polaroids of him and the victims scattered around the place. The case was open, wait for the obvious evidence to show up, and shut.\n\nSo now I thought that it was going to be my turn to paint some ceiling or wall red with my own blood, to sleep with the fishes or to cut myself open as if I was some spit-roasted pig but instead Mr. Singh offered me the opportunity of a lifetime.\n\n\n[OOC: Sorry guys I am on a work computer ATM and the shitty chicklet keyboard won't let me properly type, I hope you liked it and will (interest provided!) write some more when I come home in 4 hours ]\n\nContinuation is in the reply to this. I'll write for approximately 20 minutes, get some sleep and return to this tomorrow.\n", "Wish for 4.3E17 duplicate copies of the lamp. It's not infinite, not forever, and does not explicitly ask for more wishes. It is however an equivalent to a lamp for almost every second the universe has existed, each with a genie that will grant 3 wishes. If I can't have infinite wishes I'm going to have the next best thing...approximately infinite wishes.\n\nEdit: Mobile does not like the carrot symbol.", "\"Pencil and paper? You can't be serious.\", he said to me. I just nodded at him to proceed.\n\n\"But ... pencil and paper? What is that going to-\", he stopped as I cut him off.\n\n\"Not just paper, but scrolls, two of them, at least 10 feet long.\" I corrected.\n\n\"What the hell? No way.\"\n\n\"Do you trust me or not? I can just walk away right now and you can figure it out on your own.\"\n\n\"No, no! Wait!\" he practically shouted as I turned away. The genie looked on, though his usual stoic expression was also starting to crack as he tried to fathom the wish.\n\n\"Do it\", I said. He sighed, gave me one last reproachful look, and spoke.\n\n\"Genie, I wish for a pencil and two scrolls, each at least 10 feet long, blank, that the pencil could easily, and legibly write upon.\" Good, I thought, he said it just like I told him.\n\nThe genie peered at him a moment more, then his eyes, those orange glowing orbs, flicked over to me briefly. I could see him thinking, trying to figure the angle, and finally resignation. He shrugged, nothing more, and suddenly the scrolls appeared on the ground in front of us. They looked extremely well crafted, the ends were capped with gorgeous hardwood stops. On the ground next to them was a #2 pencil, sharpened and ready to go. \n\nIt would appear that the genie was not without a sense of humor. This also told me a lot of what I needed to know. The genie apparently had a lot of latitude on deciding fulfillment of the wish. He was showing off with the elaborate scrolls, and then poking fun with the pencil. \n\n\"OK\", I said, \"Now, about 12 inches down from the top on the first scroll, start writing everything you want.\"\n\nHe looked at me like I was crazy, but I could see the genie flinch slightly out of the corner of my eye. The genie knew what was coming.\n\n\"What good is that going to do?\" he asked me, still not getting it.\n\n\"For your second wish, don't say the words yet, you are going to wish for everything on the scrolls to be granted to you, not only as written but as you intended it to mean.\"\n\nHis eyes lit up as he started to realize the possibilities. I could practically hear the gears turning. He snatched up the pencil and the first scroll. \n\n\"Be sure to leave some space at the top. We will put some extra clarifications up there.\" I instructed. The genie was looking at me with growing concern, and a hint of malice. I shrugged at it. I was technically playing by its rules.\n\nThe scritch of the pencil paused as he looked up at me.\n\n\"Wait, what is the other scroll for?\" he asked, \"I'm pretty sure I could fit everything I want on to here. He gestured at the scroll in front of him.\n\nI smiled my most charming smile. It was difficult not to chuckle and wring my hands like some sort of caricature of a movie villain. I would get the best of both worlds, all I could think of to write on the scroll plus I would still have that third wish for anything I did not think of today.\n\n\"That one. That one is mine.\"\n\n", "\"Okay, because I'm being payed by the hour, I will entertain the idea that you somehow found a magic lamp in Hoboken, New Jersey,\" I said into my ear bud. I was a little annoyed that my client insisted I be interrupted during lunch with something that \"couldn't wait\" to hear this kind of crap. I swear, I don't know how this yokel affords my retainer fee...\n\n\"Anyway,\" I continued, after swallowing the rest of my sandwich, \"the whole genie thing is a lot easier than people seem to think it is. You really don't need a lot of technical jargon or legal mumbo jumbo, you just gotta be really specific and think about exactly what you want. \n\n\"You can't just say \"I want all the money in the world,' because then suddenly several foreign powers are going to have some very difficult to answer questions for you. But so you get two wishes, I get the third? \n\n\"Okay, in my professional opinion, I would make my first wish that you and your loved ones cannot be directly or indirectly harmed or otherwise inconvenienced by anything a genie does unless it is to your net benefit in the near future. For your second wish, I would wish for more genie lamps with benevolent, wish granting genies in them. \n\n\"Go crazy kid, just drop my wish off at the office. And don't worry about me, you do this right, I'll only need one. I'll just use it to get whatever you wished for.\"", "I was reclining in my law office when a good old friend of mine, Robert came into my office with a lamp. He set the lamp before me. It was an old lamp, looked like an archaeological find from the first century or something.\n\nI gave him an inquisitive look. \"There is a Genie in the lamp.\" He explained, \"I had four wishes, but I wasted my first on asking what he was. I don't want to waste any more. If you can get me the first two, then you can have the third.\"\n\nI nodded sagely, as if I had any idea what to do. \"Ok, let's see what we are working with here.\" I responded, and then for the next fifteen minutes Robert polished the lamp furiously, I thought he had gone mildly insane when finally a Genie floated from it above my desk.\n\n\"I am a Genie, you have awakened me from my slumber. I will grant you three wishes in return for my release.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Mr. Genie, in the case of Genie wish granting, I'm sure you understand that there is a certain distrust of genies breaking the spirit of the wishes given to them. Thus before a wish can be requested, two critical judgments must be made. First, is whether there is enough information to trust the genie. At this point, I think we can conclude that we do not have that sufficient information. Second, under what law and conditions make for a valid wish. Our wishes in this case depend entirely on genie law of which we are completely ignorant. Thus, before we can proceed we need to ask you questions that are not wishes.\"\n\nThe Genie seemed to take my measure and I stared back at him. If he was patient as two thousand years inside a lamp should have made him he would simply not answer. However, I got the feeling he was getting somewhat desperate to get out of the lamp.\n\n\"Well Done. You managed to ask me if you can ask me a question without actually asking a question.\"\n\n\"That's not an answer.\"\n\n\"No, it is not.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Very well then, I wish for you to fulfill what Robert should wish for by Robert's standards.\"\n\nThe Genie gave me a look. \"Your a tricky one. Fine, done.\"\n\n\"I wish for you to fulfill what Robert should wish for by Robert's standards.\" I repeated.\n\n\"Done.\"\n\n\"I wish for what I should wish for by my standards.\"\n\nI'm not sure he was expecting that. \"Asshole.\" He told me as chains suddenly appeared around his wrists and dragged him back down into the lamp.", "\"If you wish for the genie to be set free from his lamp, do you think he'll agree to unlimited wishes for the rest of your life?\" \n\n\"No,\" he said. \"He said the wishes need to benefit me and/or my immediate family. Also, he said the words 'unlimited' or 'forever' can't be part of a wish. In terms of money, the maximum I can ask for is $100,000. You can't ask for more wishes, either.\"\n\nFrom his own words, Andrew found a lamp right in my own backyard while the construction workers were digging a hole for a new pool. This drought isn't going anywhere anytime soon. \"What's one more swimming pool going to hurt?\" he said.\n\nAs he was washing the dirt off the lamp in the kitchen sink, he felt a quake. Before he could even think of a possibility, hot yellow sand started pouring out of the spout. \n\n\"And then... he just appeared?\" I asked. I got up from my desk, reached for my glass of scotch and sat on the couch this time.\n\n\"Yup. I get three wishes. Danny, I've been thinking a lot about this. I want money. I need a new liver. I want a family. This might be a selfish thing to say, but I don't want to adopt. It's not Riley's fault my sperm can't do shit. She deserves to have a baby or babies, for that matter. I can't give you that third wish. I'm sorry, but I can't.\"\n\n\"Then why did you come to me for? You clearly made up your mind. Why do you need me?\"\n\n\"Because you're a lawyer. You find little details that normal people don't see. What can I do, or ask for, that could make my family be well off for the rest of their lives? Even if I don't get that liver... I don't care. I want to be there for them.. But...\"\n\n\"I get it,\" I assured him. \"Don't worry. I'll figure out something. This genie's been in that lamp forever hasn't he? $100,000? Can't even buy a house with that money nowadays.\"\n\nI paced around the house thinking of some ways we can maybe trick this genie. The answer was sitting on my bookshelf. A thesaurus. I grabbed my phone and dialed.\n\n\"Andrew. I got it. You don't ask for an unlimited amount of money. You ask for an infinite amount.\"\n\n\"(Hahaha!) You didn't go to a very good law school did you, Danny?\" Andrew asked with a smirk. \"The limit is still $100,000 and he'll probably shake his head at your idea of the word 'infinite.'\"\n\nWhen I finished dinner with the family, everyone moved into the living room watching TV while I did the dishes. Saturday was my turn to do the dishes. While I put the forks in the dish rack, I grabbed the next item: a gravy boat. A gravy boat that happened to look almost exactly like the lamp that Andrew found. No, this time, I really got it. I dialed him again.\n\n\"Wake the genie, Andrew. I'm coming over.\"\n\nIt was late at night and I apologized to Riley for being so secretive about my plans. But just like at work, when I think I have a great idea, I like to wait and show it off. Andrew grabbed the lamp and rubbed it until, again, a huge amount of sand started pouring out. Then he appeared right in front of our eyes. I think I blinked when he appeared. But he was there.\n\n\"Hey... uh... do you have a name? I don't think I asked that when we.. uh first met?\" Andrew asked.\n\n\"Do you have your wishes?\" \n\n\"Yes. Ummm you know what? I'm going to let my lawyer speak for me. Is that OK with you?\"\n\nSilence. He nodded after a few seconds. It was my turn.\n\n\"Hi. Danny here. So the three wishes are very simple.\"\n\nWish #1: Andrew gets a viable liver that will keep him alive for a very long time.\n\n\"Your wish will be granted,\" Genie said.\n\nWish #2: To save Andrew and Riley go through all the trouble of 9 months of pregnancy, you're going to give them 2 biological babies of theirs: One boy and one girl.\n\n\"If you are asking for one boy and one girl, you will be using your second and your third wish. Would you like to proceed?\" \n\n\"Fuck. No, scratch that,\" I said. I looked at Andrew and he was hesitant. I knew he didn't really trust me. Like he said, I didn't come from a good law school. I still have $80,000 of student loans to pay off.\n\n\"OK. Fine. You're going to give Andrew healthy sperm that has a pregnancy rate of 100%. Sorry Riley, I guess you're going to have to go fight the pain for this one.\"\n\nShe smiled and said, \"Bring it on.\"\n\n\"Your wish has been granted. And the final wish?\"\n\n\"The final wish is for another lamp. Just like the one you came out of. The exact replica of the lamp with a genie inside it.\"\n\nGenie looked at me and snapped, \"You cannot ask for more wishes.\"\n\n\"I'm not asking for more wishes. I'm asking for another lamp with a genie inside it.\"\n\nHe shrugged. This wasn't looking good for him. His supervisor(?) of wherever he came from isn't going to be too happy about this.\n\n\"Your.... wish has been granted.\"\n\nAnd just like that, he was gone. But right where he stood, another lamp appeared. I looked at Andrew and he still had the \"old\" lamp in his hand. \n\nWe smiled at each other. I walked over to the small mountain of sand and picked up the new lamp.", "\"Don't worry, Mr. Jackson. My law school training completely prepared me for this.\"\n\nHe smiled nervously the same way any other client would once I comforted them about their prospects- weird, really, because it happened regardless of the issue. Crafting a will? Trying to get their neighbor to stop flying a drone? Wanting the IRS to pay them taxes? Didn't matter- once I said I'd do it, they became comfortable the exact same way. The easy part of my job.\n\nMy law school training completely didn't prepare me for this. \n\nFor all I knew about common law and civil law jurisdictions, neither the Magna Carta nor the Napoleonic Code were relevant to the concept of genie law. I could have looked for exploitable loopholes, vague language, or precedents somewhere, but it's not like this genie came with a contract. Hell, it looked like those nights spent watching Aladdin with my daughter were gonna help me more than Yale Law. I'd have to thank Sally later, and maybe cancel my annual donation.\n\nBut the payout seemed like it would be worth it. So I told Hector, the intern, to start reading up on genie law- anything he could find. Said it was an exercise- a good lawyer should be able to deal with any legal system. Meanwhile, I asked Loretta, my secretary, for her Netflix account and went to their movie collection to see if I could jot down anything about genie law.\n\nSix hours and three movies later, I'd gotten a few things down:\n\n* No wishing for more wishes\n\n* No circumventing that first rule\n\n* No killing or anything that would cause MPAA to rate a movie above G\n\n* Genie will try to screw you over if there's any loophole\n\n* Genie may pretend to be half-deaf if it helps them\n\nYeah. Great. Didn't have a whole lot to help me deal with the last two.\n\nHmm. Loopholes. Alright. Let's see if I get anything if I type that up. Nope. Looper.\n\nWhat's the synopsis? Aw, hell, maybe watching a movie for a break wouldn't be so bad.\n\nAnother six hours later, my Netflix suggestions were pretty interesting- genie movies and now time travel. Primer. Predestination. You name it. Still no ideas on how to deal with the genie and loopholes.\n\nReally, all I knew was that genies had some sort of legal system and, like any legal system, I expected it to be pretty consistent. No way to figure out the laws, though, except by testing it. How would I even test it? I'd need a wish, probably a lot more- getting third wish wouldn't help.\n\nHey. Wait a minute.\n\n#### three days later\n\n\"And for my third wish, I'd like my consciousness to be sent back in time- to my past body, replacing my past consciousness with the exact mind I have now- to just before when I advised my client about his first wish. Being a temporal entity, Avesta, you of course get to stay here and must not send any information about this to your past self in any way. No one else goes back, either.\"\n\nEDIT: I'd like to give a shout-out to the genie law experts in the below comments." ]	[ 2, 4, 12, 14, 20, 39, 53, 190, 693 ]	[ "1440263709", "1440254942", "1440263235", "1440251388", "1440258093", "1440246007", "1440248475", "1440226162", "1440225129" ]
	[WP] you feed on bad memories to stay alive, you decide to open a mental clinic.	8	[ "Time for lunch he thought. \n\n\"Who do we have for our daily noon appointment?\" he asked his secretary.\n\n\"Mr. Sanders, Sir\", Cindy answered. \n\n\"Hmmmm... is he new?\" \n\n\"Yes, Sir. He wouldn't say why he admitted himself. He said, he would only speak to a Doctor.\" \n\n\"Thank you Cindy\", he said and walked into his office. He took of his jacket and slouched into his big leather chair. \n\nThis one better be good. I am hungry. If this is another 'my-girlfriend-left- me- I- am- going- crazy- case', then I will kick him out of here myself! I really have enough depressed scum laying around. They are good for afternoon snacks but they are no meal. When was the last time I had juicy trauma or a solid abusive experience? It has been too long. I start to think, that this clinic wasn't the best idea after all... \n\nThe door opened and a middle aged man with short dark hair, beer belly and worn tennis shoes stepped in. Cindy walked in behind him. \"Mr. Sanders, sir. Your 12 a.m. appointment.\" \n\n\"Thank you Cindy. Mr. Sanders. Nice to meet you. Please have a seat.\" \nThe man sat down on the big leather couch opposite of the Doctor's chair. Cindy nodded and laft the room, closing the door behind her. The Doctor sat down as well. \n\n\"So,\" said the Doctor when it came clear that Mr. Sanders wouldn't start talking first. \"I know you admitted yourself to the clinic yesterday and that you refused to give any reasons as to why you came here.\" \n\nMr. Sanders looked away, slightly ashamed. He bit his lower lip and started to fumble with his shirt. He did not speak. \n\n\"Would you like to tell me why you are here Mr. Sanders?\" asked the Doctor after a short while. \n\nThe patient cleared his throat. \"Well...\", he said, not looking the Doctor in the eyes. \"Thinking of it now, it seems kinda silly... it is rather embarrasing, really.\" \nUrgh! Another broken hearted one. I knew it! Damn it! I am hungry. All I am gonna get out of this one is a pathetic appetizer! The Doctor thought angrily. What he said though was: \"What is the problem, son? What can I help you with?\" \nMr. Sanders fumbled on his shirt some more. He still avoided eye contact. \"You see... hmmm... the problem is, there is no problem.\" \n\nWhat?!?\n\n\"I am afraid I don't understand. Can you explain that please?\" the Doctor asked now confused and angry. \n\n\"I have no problem, sir. I am perfectly happy with my life. I know that sounds crazy. And that is why I admitted myself. Everyone around me is always complaing about their lives. They moan about how hart life is and how unfair. They never seem to be happy. No one! No one I know is happy with their lives. It almost seems like it is normal to be unsatisfied with what you have. But I am happy. I like my job, my income and my home. I like my friends, the way I look. I like the way my life is going- and that seems to be crazy. Some people even tell me that I am crazy for not wanting more or something else. So Doctor, is it crazy? Am I crazy for being happy?\" \n\nThe Doctor buried his face in his hands. He was about ready to cry. His stomach was aching from hunger for trauma and pain and there sits this idiot with not a single drop of misery in his body!\n", "The sterile halls reeked of antiseptic and evacuated bowels. The cries of harrowed minds could be heard bouncing off the walls like tennis balls. I felt my eyes crinkle as a smile tugged at the corners of my liver spotted skin. \n\nJust another day on the ward. One more day swimming in the swamp of human decay and regret. \n\nMy bones creaked as I walked; I could feel my body eating away at itself. I prodded one of my teeth with my tongue and felt it wobble uneasily in it's place. \n\nIt was getting worse. I needed to feast today. I needed a banquet if I was going to make it until sundown. \n\nI found my favorite patients rooms. \n\n\"Good morning Sarah.\" I let my voice slither out into her ear. \n\nShe could hardly tell what time it was any more. There were no windows in my clinic. She hadn't seen daylight in years. \n\nSarah didn't reply, she only struggled against her constraints. Three leather straps across her body, a blind fold over her eyes, and a gag firmly over her mouth. Sensory deprivation was key to their \"recovery.\" \n\nAt least that's what I told the staff. Who would have thought a PhD would give you so much power over these weaker minds. \n\n\"We're going to do a little regression therapy today Sarah, I'm going to remove your blind fold OK?\" \n\nThis seemed to frighten her even more. \n\nGood. \n\nI slipped the barrier off her eyes, and although she couldn't move much, I swear I saw her recoil. I must be looking worse for wear today. \n\nI walked over to the mirror behind Sarah and took myself in. \n\nEek. \n\nMy eyes were barely even in their sockets anymore. My teeth were slowly falling out, like the last few drops of a rainstorm, and my skin was sagging like a sleeping bag drapped over a coat stand. \n\nMust act quickly.\n\n\"Sarah, do you remember your father?\" I began innocently. \n\nI walked to the back cabinet.\n\n\"Do you remember what he used to do to you and your mother.\"\n\nI could see tears appearing in her eyes now. \n\n\"Do you remember how you would beg him to stop?\" \n\nI reached into the cabinet and pulled out the mask I had made just for Sarah.\n\n\"Did I tell you he was let out today? He came to visit.\" \n\nI looked in the mirror and saw I was a perfect likeness for her father. \n\nI stepped over to the table and stood over her. Her eyes locked on me and she tried to scream, did her best to fight the restraints. And may I say she did a commendable job, a very strong effort. \n\nUnfortunately for her, after the last time she broke free, we had to up our game. \n\nI straddled the table, one leg on each side of her, moving my face close to hers. \n\nHer eyes were wide and I could see years terror being released. \n\nI pressed my hands to both sides of her temples, and let out a low moan.\n\n\"Oh yea. That's the stuff Sarah. Remember. Remember it all.\"\n\nI felt my shrink back into place, my vision became sharp again, and my mouth was full of fresh chompers. \n\nI finished with Sarah, probably a little rougher then I had to. \n\nNow.\n\nTime to see how Jill's recovery is fairing. " ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1440279406", "1440264539" ]
was thinking about The Incredibles explaining all the downsides of capes	[WP] All superpowers come from capes. The bigger the cape, the stronger the superpower.	7	[ " \"Oh, God damnit.\" Pig man stopped oiling his swine companion and looked up to the sky as a shadow fell over him.\n The human mole, bursts from the soil and squints at Pig Man. 'Is that him, again?\nA frown grows beneath his mud caked moustache.\n \"Yeah, its him.\" He whispers and shakes his head. \"I heard that thing glows in the dark,too\" Pig mans mount grunts and squeals. \"Its ok, Tobias. He never stays very long.\n \" DOO BEE DOO BEE DOOO...\" Butterfly man hums and floats whimsically to the ground and stares at the super villians known as the dirt brigade . \"Sup', pussies. Didnt I tell you to drag your filthy carcasses out of my city limits.\" he notices a brown mark on his over sized cape and blows it off. \"Ugh, Ive been here literally thirty seconds and I'm already as dirty as that pig you ride. \n Pig man turns red. \"You would'nt be talking so much shit if you didn't have that ridiculous cape. Do you really need the gold trim, too? What are you trying to prove man? \n Butterfly man adjusts his cowl before shooting out his proboscis and slapping Pig Man in the face.\" If I did'nt eat nectar exclusively. I would make bacon out of you..\" He makes a disgusted face. \"..and throw it away.\" He looks bored. \"Anyway, I dont have time for this...where did mole man go?\" \n Distracted by his own shit talking the fluttery super hero falied to notice that mole man had slumped back in to his cavern before it was too late, and with a SlOOMP, his prized cape is torn from his neck and carried down into newly formed hole behind him.\n \"Oh my God, yes...\" Pig man is so happy that he falls onto his knee pads. Tobias, well tuned to his riders thoughts immediately bounds after the now capeless man flailing his arms and running down the ally.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "[Recommended listening](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0V7aUT13qtM)\n\n----\n\nHeron stat with her eyes closed and legs crossed, meditating in silence in the stone chambers. Sunlight poured through the open windows, illuminating her brilliant white cape which fluttered and flowed around her despite the lack of wind. Her cape was more than mere fabric; it was an extension of her soul, and as she mediated, more white threads coalesced from thin air and wove themselves into the edges of her power. The meditation chamber was normally spacious, but Heron's cape had already flowed over the whole floor. It was starting to weave yet another layer upward when the sunlight suddenly turned to shadow and a sound like dynamite disturbed the peace.\n\n\"Heron!\" a booming voice called. Heron could hear the voice both with her ears and projected directly into her mind. She ignored the voice, her regular breathing not skipping a beat.\n\n\"It is I, Gilgamesh, the Hero of Heroes!\" He must have been unaware that most everyone called him Gilgamesh the Devourer. \"Come out of that hut you call a fortress and join me in the glorious sky such that we may talk!\"\n\nHeron continued to not move. A single thread, about to join the rest, instead wiggled back into the air and burned slowly. The faintest whisper, \"no\" drifted into Gilgamesh's surface thoughts.\n\nA moment later, the ground rumbled, and Heron could feel Gilgamesh's anger project through her entire body. Dust shook itself loose and swirled into the air as the quake grew stronger. There was a deafening crack accompanied by a shower of gravel and timber. Only then did Heron open her eyes.\n\nShe looked up to see the entire top half of her tower flying off into the distance. Instead of blue, a writhing, shifting canvas of gold colored the sky. A large section of it was burning away, and for a brief moment the sun was visible, but the hole quickly mended once the earth stopped shaking.\n\n\"That was a command, not a request!\"\n\n\"Then let's talk,\" Heron said. She sighed and got to her feet. As soon as she did, she was caught off guard by a crushing force on her back and sholders, pushing her to her knees.\n\n\"No.\" Gilgamesh voice reverberated in her mind.\n\nHeron briefly saw another patch of gold burn before Gilgamesh forced her head to the ground. She only just caught herself before the man could give her a concussion.\n\n\"I thought you might be different from the other Capes. The gods themselves said i am the greatest. Are you like the others and you cannot hear them sing my praise even now? Can you not comprehend the sky of gold I have woven together to fulfill my destiny? It is obvious that the gods have chosen ME as a vessel to reincarnate the King of Kings. I come to your remote island to offer you the privilege of weaving your soul into mine, to harness your full potential to bring justice and unity to the world instead of just your puny Arachnine City. In the face of such opportunity, you refuse to even see me as a guest when I come to your remote island?\"\n\nHeron laughed.\n\n\"And now you mock me? Or is this just an insect coping wit htheir imminent destruction?\"\n\n\"No, you were right the first time. It is mockery. There are no gods. You're just insane.\" As Heron spoke, her cape, previously pressed to the ground like its wearer, began to float again. The white fabric rolled and folded in on itself. Some of it wrapped around Heron's body, and the rest twirled into three pillars that pushed the woman back to her feet. The body might have been too weak to resist the force of Gilgamesh's soul, but another soul? Child's play.\n\nHeron continued pushing and growing her new legs, raising herself toward the human shaped speck floating in the shifting gold sky. She could see now that Gilgamesh's cape was easily ten times the size of her own. Despite the fact that he was no longer pushing down on Heron, his cape still burned at the edges. It seemed that he was using his power to keep himself in the sky without support. A cape was just an extension of oneself, and like forming a fist, required only a thought to shape. Reshaping the world outside the body, however, required a sacrifice. Gilgamesh must have believed he had enough power to spare.\n\n\"I can see why you didn't want to come out. You're just an old woman, too frail to fly. The stories said you saved the city from thousands of unbound threads. I can barely believe you fought ten.\"\n\nGilgamesh brought his arms up and at least a dozen patches of his cape flared. The ground erupted in an equal number of places, earth and stone flying into the air and swirling together to form massive spikes before hurtling toward Heron.\n\nHeron simply moved out of the way as each approached. It wasn't a serious attack; it was a show of force and power. Most Capes struggled to control five things at the same time, and those who could often rarely had enough fabric to burn. Gilgamesh wanted to make it clear that he had both.\n\n\"Lithium also moved too much,\" Gilgamesh laughed.\n\n\"And you simply talk too much.\" Heron scowled. Lithium had been somewhat of a protege several years ago. Heron was now close enough to Gilgamesh to make out the seams in his cape where other lengths of fabric had been sloppily patched in. Though its brilliant blues had been dyed gold by Gilgamesh's power, one patch clearly had the embroidery of Lithium's cape.\n\nGilgamesh laughed even harder and flared his cape in a hundred different places." ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1440275507", "1440280103" ]
	[WP] Aliens invade modern day earth. Tell a story from the viewpoint of an international arms dealer, an alien collaborator, or one of the aliens themselves.	7	[ "When the invasion began, they were taken by surprise. Our forces overran their nations, struck down their governments and took the land of the stars from them. Their America was taken within a day, and on their crude communications network, we executed their government. We told them, through our translators and collaborators that we had spent years training beforehand, that they were now subjects of the Helian Industrial Combine, and for them to return to work so profit could be maintained while we annexed the rest of the planet. They responded by fire and blood. Their soldiers didn't give up, they kept fighting. Their citizens never stopped fighting. When our forces tried to repress their initial rioting and mopping up the remnants of their army, millions came pouring in. Forces from the entire planet came rushing to strike against us, they had guts, for everyone one of ours that fell, a hundred of theirs were killed. We kept on striking them down, taking more and more land, with the eventual goal of total planetary pacification. They bled us for every inch, never giving up a single piece of dirt or rock without making sure it wasn't profitable for us, killing of our corporate security and mercs, more than the last 23.7 combined takeovers together.\n\nWhile we eventually managed to occupy two of the continents, and that was when they fired a nuclear weapon upon the occupied city of New York, the place for the planetary headquarters of the HIC, annihilating most of our senior staff and millions of their own. They then sent out diplomatic turns to our remaining planetary managers, explaining their intent to annihilate their own planet if we didn't leave. Being good negotiators, we managed to keep the already conquered areas. At least until reinforcements arrived. The Home Office was displeased by the losses and our failure to take over the entire planet, opening only a small part of the planet's natural resources and fauna to us. Yet when we provided them with data from the focus groups in the para-military areas, they were ecstatic. We had lost a record amount of soldiers to an extremely primitive planet. And HO saw potential. We gathered up the lowlifes, the cutthroats and the monstrous among our new employees, we offered them new positions in Helian Militant Security as guards, spec ops and the like. During their first mission, a showcase for possible investors more than a real mission, not only did they manage to utterly slaughter three experienced mercenary companies, they killed the instructors and went on to conquer and pacify a slave rebellion on the Paramilitary Training Simulator Planet-5.4. Demands skyrocketed for human mercs for the tougher, harder and far more dangerous jobs. Stuff either extremely unpleasant, such as defending dictators against popular uprisings or ethnic relocations, but also on harder missions, concerning reinstating order on war-torn worlds rife with anarchy and madness. As one of the managers for the human corps, I saw them one day helping children find their parents, keeping civilized order in cities and saving innocent lives they weren't even paid for. On others, they were like legendary monsters, striking like lightning, cutting down everything in their path, their onslaught unstoppable, their defense immovable.\n\nThey earned us a lot of good profit, more than enough to make up for what we lost on the failed invasion, and the stalemate between the remaining human independents struggling to catch up by any means necessary. They fought for twenty of the human years for us, becoming the most feared mercs in the whole of the known business area. Yet we decided that enough was enough, that time had come to bring the human world truly and wholly into the Helian Corporate family. With such profits from merely owning a small part of the planet, we imagined that we'd be the richest corporates in the cluster. Of course, we sent for our own forces, including the human forces. We had never had any trouble from them, no disobedience, nothing but the loyalty. Even when someone tried to bribe them to fight us, their corporate overlords, they refused. Shooting down the fool as they claimed a contract unbreakable. We thought the humans were like us, the collaborators working in the advertisement groups, the people in our research area, even the regular people. We thought they were like us. We were wrong.\n\nWhen the humans in our corps found themselves on Earth, hearing their orders to permanently pacify the planet. They refused. We didn't understand. They told us that their blood was thicker than our wealth. They spoke of concepts, family, duty and honor. That when the soldier returned from war, he was loyal to his kin, not his officers. They had not fought to please us or for money, they said. They had fought to keep the peace on Earth. Fought to show the peace between the Helian Corp and man was a possibility. And then they said, that if their officers demanded they kill their own kin, their family. They would fight. And they did. They struck the invasion force while it was preparing, causing the rest of the planet to notice. Mankind had had enough. Loyalty is to ones own worth, ones wealth, ones own offspring. Others only exist to step on. They had foolish notions, of kinship to all humans, of loyalty to an idea, an idea that all men were of the same worth.\n\nThey fought, though they were the few, they did the same again. They died without caring, without attempting to yield as is the nature of any civilized race, either because his wealth will allow it or his kind calm and peaceful. Mankind pressed on. When the invasion was dissolving before our eyes, we saw that the rest of mankind were coming. Their ancient archaic technologies, barely augmented with badly reverse-engineered weaponry from old and outdated models. Yet their technology had advanced, and so had their strategy. Striking with illegal weapons, mining technology and kinetic bombardments, they landed on the east coast of Helian controlled area. There they met our mercenaries, we hoped that they would destroy one another, a likely case as the human forces had lost more than half their number during the little rebellion. Yet they simply went in together, liberating city after city. Soon all the corporate territories were in open rebellion. Children blowing themselves up to kill our guards, women spreading deadly diseases to our forces in various pleasure houses, open fighting in the streets, poisoning, cruelty unlike any seen before. Humanity was proven to be very different from us. They didn't know defeat, they didn't understand surrender. Only as minor setbacks. During the invasion they lost millions in the battles, the slaughter becoming a large scandal for our Public Relation unit. It took years to rebuild the family-friendly image of Helian Industrial Combine after that. Mankind was different. Mankind was insane.\n\nOn every front they threw themselves against us, with our forces routing, scrambling back to the new corporate HQ in Boulder City NE. Our forces falling to banners of a red sun on white and small stars on a red field in the west, to crosses of many colors in the north, to a circle of stars upon a blue banner in the east, and to the south a thousand thousand other banners. Home Office was afraid. They ordered us to take no chances, use everything. We sent some of the nuclear weapons that we had captured during our first attempt against them. If anything it made them fight harder. Our own local planetary employees killing their managers in the offices, slaves from a thousand foreign stars liberated and armed. In the end, we had to run. We had to cut our losses from that planet. Helian Industrial Combine went under a few years after. Not surprising considering that they had lost a planet to primitives. Yet considering they were the largest corporate state in five galaxies, much of what was left behind were small and weak new companies, fighting constantly over new markets and prices, often with violence.\n\nYet I escaped with something. The corporate orphanage in Boulder City was filled with young impressionable humans. And they could form the basis for a whole new army, a whole new era of mercenary work. While the insane humans are rebuilding after all their losses, and working with what few foreign races mad or desperate enough to try in these past ten years, I have been working for myself. The training program has completed. Mankind, the greatest, maddest warriors in known history, shall once more fight. There are a thousand companies out there, each lording over some stars in a backwater having constant trade wars with their competitors. They'll need the best mercenaries that money can buy, and with over 50000 human soldiers in my employ, I'll give them exactly what they ask for.", "I walked into the boardroom, showing the guards in front of the doors my badge, and walked through a metal detector before I entered. As soon as I entered, 49 pairs of eyes immediately centered on me, representatives of the States. I am one of them, representing the people of Massachusetts and their interests.\nOne of them stood up, though I wasn't sure of his name, I knew he represented the state of California.\n\"Finally! He's here, now we can start the meeting\", stated California as he pulled my chair out so I could sit down.\nI shook my head, \"That won't be necessary, my friend\"\nI walked towards the head of the table, plopped my suitcase onto it. \"Because this meeting won't be happening exactly the way you planned\"\nAs I popped open the suitcase, all of the attendees except for few dove underneath the table, while the others pulled out their concealed pistols.\nI raised my arms into the air to show that I was no threat, \"Woah woah hey, everybody calm down, its no bomb, and no one has to die\"\nI reached into the suitcase and pulled out a small cube, about the size of my thumb.\n\"All you need to do... is embrace them...\"\nThe cube expanded in my hand, signalling that it was time.\nI threw the cube down at the ground, it shattered on the ground.\nThe moment it hit the ground and shattered, I heard two gunshots and felt a stinging pain in both my lower abdomen and my left shoulder. I fell to the ground in an immense amount of pain.\nThe rest was a blur, as I felt a bullet enter my leg, and two more enter my chest, and soon after that my precious device did it's work, as a portal opened, and they came through to our world, our galaxy. \nBut from what I saw? The Transcendence was beautiful....\n " ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1440364050", "1440376820" ]
	[WP] Heaven and Hell now have visiting hours.	6	[ "I didnt know it could be possible. What would I do? What would I say? My palms are sweating so bad. My heart could just explode. I wanted to see her, those pale cheeks of hers. Her blonde beautiful hair. Does she know? \n\nI saw her. Her hair flowing and her skin shining like armor in the sun. She saw me... and she frowned. Oh God she knows. My heart is breaking at the sight of her eyes filling up with tears. Those beautiful hazel eyes. \n\n\"Mar-\". \n\"How are you?\", she interupts me. \n\"Im doing fine.. Mar-\". \n\"How is she?\". She interupts me again.\nI pause and took a deep breath. \"I'm going to hell for this.\"", "\"What is this bullshit?\" I asked, stepping past the sign and at the guy-dog gaurd thing looking at me with crossed arms.\n\n\"Hell's closed right now\" he said, \"move along.\"\n\n\"Cmon Ian, let's just go - \" she started, but I shut her up with a fat lip to think about, and dragged her forward by the hair. She screamed, but I didn't let go until she said the safeword.\n\n\"I'm just trying to have a good time with my bitch here\" I said to the gaurd, \"and now I can't?\"\n\n\"Sorry dude, the locals just want some peace and quiet. You can come back in nine cycles, it'll be open then.\"\n\n\"NO!\" I screamed, partly in anger and partly because bitch Leslie bit my leg in boredom. \"I WANT IN NOW! LET ME IN!\"\n\nThe guard got out his tazer and advanced on me, as I kept yelling at him from behind the gates.\n\n\"LET ME IN!\"\n\n\"Buddy, you're gonna have to step back - \"\n\n\"LET ME IN!\"\n\n\"I'm not gonna ask again -\"\n\n\"LET ME IN! P^in^eapp lles!\" I said, partly due to the volts coursing through my blood, and partially due to bitch Leslie finally getting me off.\n\nAfter I got up, I tried to clean up the stains as best I could, and I handed my lady a handkerchief for her lip and teeth. I thanked and apologized to the gaurd, who said it was 'quite alright' and my lady and I walked off towards the escalator arm-in-arm." ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1440395341", "1440420299" ]
	[WP] The shortest story ever told. Once upon a time there was a magical place where it never rained. The end.	11	[ "We sat around what any other time would have been a roaring fire. This was my sixth time across the pan handle with old Poke. Poke is what you might have called a real cowboy: tough as nails, nothing scared this guy. There was nothing he couldn't handle. He was our guide, our leader, our cook.\n\nIt was 60 days, 1000 miles, and today was day 15. It had rained all or part of every single day since we started out. It was miserable. I was soaked to the core. There wasn't a dry piece of tinder in 100 miles. What I wouldn't give for just a little fire. To feel the warmth of the flames, to hear the crackle of the logs. At least it had stopped raining for the moment. A chance to wring the water out of our coats, our hats, our socks. \n\nWe sat around huddled together. Without a fire dinner was cold tasteless mush. There was no coffee. As I looked around the circle, everyone looked as miserable as I felt. \n\n\"Chin up boys, just a little weather.\" Old Poke said. \"Nothing to go crying to your mommas about. The trail's hard, but the pay makes it worth it.\"\n\nPoke was right. They had paid me very well over the last few years. 45 more days, and I would be a rich man again. With this drive, I should be able to buy a ring for my girl. If she'd still have me. \n\n\"Le'me tell you boys a story about a drive way back. We were a month into the drive and it began to snow. There ain't nothing ever been worse than driving cattle through 2 foot of snow. You can't feel your toes, but you have to move on. The fella leadin' the drive went by Pops on the account of him Popp'n you in the face if you got on his bad side. He was one mean son of a...\"\n\nThe thunder rolled as the skies opened up again. \n\n\"Damn it boys! The shortest story ever, Once upon a time there was a magical place where it never rained. The End. Now get your ass to bed. This herd won't move itself. We need rested folk for that.\"", "The shortest story ever told. Once upon a time there was a magical place where it never rained. The end.\n\n\"I don't think this is going to get published,\" the man said to his typewriter.\n\nHe gave up writing, for good, that day.", "\"Once upon a time, there was a magical place where it never rained. The end.\" The boys of D tent laughed uproariously. I turned to leave. E and F tent still needed their water. \n\nThe campers at Camp Green Lake were a rambunctious sort. Much like myself they were outcasts of society. There was no place for them so the courts placed them here. \"Placed\" was generous. They were given a choice, jail or camp. At that age I would have picked camp as well. Unfortunately camp didn't exist as an option then and I had been in and out of correctional centers for youth and adults my whole life up until now. Now, I have an opportunity to work with kids that were just like me at that age and help them make better choices. \n\nI hopped into the cab of the brown, battered F-350 with a 200 gallon water tank fixed to the back. Kids called it \"The Camel\" and I used to fill their water bottles during the day. \n\nI started the truck and reached instinctively for the pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket. The pocket lay flat and empty. Quitting wasn't an easy endeavor. But neither was correcting the course these boys were on ad I wanted to set a good example where I could. Even the little things count. \n\nAs I pulled away from D tents site I heard my name, Mr. Sir, being called. I assumed it was a thank you and waved out the window. It was probably the most affection these poor boys had gotten in years. Most came from broken homes, from parents who didn't care about them and those thoughts only serve to fuel my resolve to help these boys. Only someone who's been where they've been could help, I knew that. That's why I took it upon myself to be a mentor and, if you will, a surrogate father. I reminisced about my own father. He wasn't around for long and my memories were short, suffice to say, I was better off without him. But not without a strong male presence which is something I tried my utmost to give to these poor, poor boys. \n\nMy mouth itched in that special way when it needs a cigarette. Recalling I had none in my pocket, I reached towards the passenger seat for my 5 lb. bag of sunflower seeds. My hand came down on nothing but cracked vinyl. I glanced down, the bag was gone. \n\nIn an instant, I had the truck turned around. The parenting book on tape in the truck said that punishment had to be handed out swiftly or it wouldn't be associated with the action. As I pulled up I saw Magnet throw Caveman something. It flopped through the air and I recognized it as my bag of seeds. I parked the truck and walked up to the boys. \n\n\"Caveman\" I said, trying to keep my voice even and calm, \"what's that in your hole?\"\n\nHe denied it at first. Stating he didn't know what it was. \n\nI stared at him. Hard. I wanted him to tell me the truth and it was all I could do not to turn on Magnet and target him as the guilty one. \n\n\"I took the bag out of your truck, Mr. Sir.\"\n\nI wanted to cry. He hadn't taken it. He'd just been the guy left with the bag, he'd done nothing wrong but there was nothing I could do without a confession from Magnet\n\n\"Get in, I think the warden would like to see what you found.\"\n\n\n\n-States deposition of Leslie Sir in the matter of The State v Camp Greenlake\n\n\nPage 21 of 35\n\n", "Once upon a time, there was a magical place where it never rained. It was called California. One day, a great fire wiped it off the face of the planet, creating a barren wasteland, now ruled by bandits who drive crazy things called cars, and control the western United States Oil reserves. The end.", "Once upon a time, there was a magical place where it never rained. The end.\n\nMaybe there used to be a boy who found a lamp in a cave. The magic of the place held a genie in the lamp who granted wishes. And the boy wished for riches and power and love. But he did not wish for rain. And so he, and the lamp, passed on.\n\nMaybe there once was a princess who was to be killed in the morning by the king, her soon-to-be husband. However, she kept telling him stories and so, night after night, he put off her execution so that he could hear more. But she did not tell stories of rain. And so she, and her king, passed on.\n\nMaybe the place used to be the home to huge worms that lived under the sand. And the worms made a drug that let people travel between planets. Huge wars were fought and empires rose and fell over the drug. But no one ever brought water, therefore it did not rain. And so the worms, and the empires, passed on.\n\nMaybe there once was an abandoned hotel where a man danced in the air. He wore a suit and tie and [flew to a strange beat](https://youtu.be/XQ7z57qrZU8). But he did not dance for rain. And so he, and the hotel, passed on.\n\nIt was a magical place, but it never rained. And so it passed on.", "\"Once upon a time,\" I began, \"There was a magical place where it never rained.\" I set down the piece of paper Grandpa Owen had given me. \"Is this it? Grandpa, I wanted a story! What's this?\" I glared at him angrily.\n\n\"A story,\" he mumbled, cutting apples. \"You said you wanted one, right?\"\n\nI frowned. \"Yes I wanted one! But this isn't a story! It's a sentence! Where's the rest?\"\n\n\"I don't know, why don't you tell me?\"\n\n\"Why don't I tell you?\" I exclaimed. \"Because I asked you for a story!\"\n\n\"And I have given you one. Or, at least, the beginning.\" He stopped cutting. \"You have such a beautiful mind, Emily. One that can create wonders. If I had an imagination like yours, I could spin endless tales for you. But I can't. So instead, I have given you a sentence. And with that sentence, you can build a story.\"\n\nWe sat in silence for a few minutes. \"You're just lazy,\" I murmured.\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\nThis prompt just brought back a memory, so I thought I'd share it. :)" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 7, 25 ]	[ "1440442573", "1440462277", "1440444427", "1440436742", "1440436320", "1440432160" ]
	[WP]A NASA Mars Rover meets another Rover - which hasn't been sent there from Earth..	86	[ "\"Ambassador Niblar? The ambassador from Earth is on the line and wants to speak with you.\"\n\n\"Put him through. Hello? John! How are things going?\"\n\n\"Well, I hate to be blunt with you, but we've got a bit of a situation we'd like to clear up with you.\"\n\n\"I'm listening.\"\n\n\"You see, we have this rover on Mars and it has found something... interesting.\"\n\n\"Interesting? How?\"\n\n\"Well, it came across what looks like another rover. It's in pretty bad shape but it definitely appears to be mechanical.\"\n\n\"That is interesting, but why does this warrant my attention? I'm sure NASA can figure this one out.\"\n\n\"Because, one, it appears have been on the planet far too long to be something from Earth and, two, it looks like Sestromi technology.\"\n\n\"Oh...\"\n\n\"You told me that the Sestromi had sent their first probes to the Solar System just a few months before making contact, but this rover, or whatever it is, appears to be decades old.\"\n\n\"Hm... well... yes...\"\n\n\"Niblar, tell me, when did the Sestromi first visit the Solar System?\"\n\n\"I really shouldn't tell you, but I guess you're going to find out on your own eventually... we've been... observing Earth since the 1940's. We didn't make contact then because you had this big war going on and then there was that nuclear stalemate between the capitalists and communists. We didn't want to get involved.\"\n\n\"So reports of UFOs?\"\n\n\"...yes, you spotted us a few times.\"\n\n\"Alien abductions?\"\n\n\"...it was a different time, we didn't understand humans, so we did some... regrettable things.\"\n\n\"Roswell?\"\n\n\"Ahem... yeah... that wasn't us.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? It was made up?\"\n\n\"No...\"\n\n\"There's another alien race that visited Earth!? You told us that the Sestromi had not encountered any other sentient beings!\"\n\n\"Technically true. We've never really... encountered them. We've just seen evidence of their activities. We don't really know much about them. We didn't want to scare you...\"\n\n\"Oh my God... this is too serious. we can't keep this under wraps, I'll have to inform the Security Council.\"\n\n\"No need. They'll see it soon enough.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"You're on Sestrom's Funniest Pranks!\"\n\n\"Haha, oh my God, you really had me going! Is this payback for the '2001: A Space Odyssey' prank?\"\n\n\"Of course! You told us it was based on a true story! We spent weeks trying to locate the Discovery One!\"\n\n\"Haha, good times! So the rover...?\"\n\n\"Just a prop, we left it near your rover and figured you'd come across it eventually.\"\n\n\"Fantastic! You all are really good at this.\"\n\n\"Yep, they don't call us the jokesters of the galaxy for nothing.\"\n\n\"Ha... wait... who are 'they'?\"\n\n\"Crap.\"", "Small black wheels carried the metal mass over red dust. The planet seemed dead - not that it had ever been \"alive\" - yet the silver machine could not make such observation. Instead, it simply carried out the experiments it was designed for with no sentient thought for what it was doing. The wheels just spun until on-board sensors found that the rover's present location met strict requirements for a worthwhile place to drill, as others automatically recorded various variables to relay back to Pasadena, where a small staff continued to observe the rover past its original, intended mission. It was obsolete, nearly a decade and a half old, but its solar panels had allowed Earth to continue space exploration in the face of financial crisis without monetary input.\n\nIn the control room back on Earth, two scientists continued to monitor the rover's activities and findings, at least to the minimum degree of effort on their part. A solitary beep sounded from a long-decommissioned control panel to indicate a blockage in the rover's path. This was, of course, ignored by the two women. As if cued by it, one merely tied her hair back into a bun without so much as looking up to see what was in its way. Such interest had long been abandoned by humanity.\n\nThe six worn tyres waited patiently as the rover awaited instruction from Earth; when the beep again sounded, almost insistently, the women looked up, expecting some small rock they'd have to set a course for the rover to go around. In the place of such a rock, they found some sleek, silver shape. The metallic body was lifted from the Martian soil by a series of 8 wheels, each larger, more powerful than the relatively puny and noticeably aged disks present on the Earth rover. It wasn't smoothly curved like some expensive sports car, but rather appeared to be made up of polygonal plates, building up to a raised 'pod' toward the centre, long and tall enough to carry several people. This could not be the case, for it appeared to have no openings, no breaks whatsoever in its perfect coating.\n\nThe scientists could not recognise nor make sense of this sudden apparition. Initially shocked, they soon got to work contacting their superiors. As their phones began to ring, the stuttering, fuzzy black-and-white video feed cut out with a loud pop.\n\nThe alien chassis began to shimmer. Its polygons reformed to allow two long, thin, matte black devices to be raised out into the open, symmetrically placed on either side of it. They began to glow green, with a shrill whine; the rover, having had no contradictory commands, waited patiently. Suddenly, silence again took hold of the scene. The black devices disappeared in a shimmer and a small black box emerged from the pod. Some kind of black insectoid poured forth from the box, forming a humanoid shape before the rover. Once in place, the swarm turned blue, and began to flicker back and forth like a poor television signal. The humanoid figure was obscured with some form of armour, utilitarian in style with wires poking out and in here and there, particularly about its joints. Two pipes entered the helmet from the figure's back. With a distorted hiss and bang, the pipes erupted in a cloud of steam from the helmet; the swarm removed their \"helmet\".\n\nThe video feed returned, to display this shifting blue apparition amidst the backdrop of these metallic insectoids. The control room had filled with scientists, and a military general or three. They looked on, and waited for these aliens to make some move, for there was no communicative equipment on board the rover.\n\n-----\n\nI don't write very much, if at all, and I'm looking to change that; additionally, this is my first time responding to a writing prompt. Thus, any criticism is much appreciated! \\^.^\n", "[Mars Rover, Opportunity, sends image of an unidentified object moving towards it on the surface of Mars]\n\n\"The hell is that?\" Tim asked. He scratched the stubble on his cheek. He tried increasing the resolution of the image that Opportunity sent more than 5 minutes ago. He still didn't know what it was. It didn't look natural, though.\n\nTim rolled back from his desk and turned back to his supervisor, \"Hey, David, I need you to come over and look at this for me.\" His supervisor's head popped up from over the edge of his own monitor screen, eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance.\n\n\"What?\" David snapped as he walked over. \"I have a big meeting soon.\"\n\n\"Take a look at this image for me,\" Tim replied. \"I can't identify it.\"\n\nDavid mumbled something and looked over Tim's shoulder at the image sent by Opportunity. His face contorted into confusion.\n\n\"The hell is that?\" David whispered.\n\n\"That's exactly what I said,\" Tim said. \"I'm getting more images from Opportunity. I've combined the frames into a rough video. Look, it gets bigger. Closer.\" Tim pointed at the object.\n\n[Assembled images form a short video of the unidentified object approaching Opportunity]\n\n\"It's fucking moving?\" David muttered. He shook his head. \"It has to be a different rover.\"\n\n\"I already checked. There shouldn't be any other rovers in that area. At least not the ones we know about.\" Tim shrugged.\n\nDavid stood up straight and snapped his fingers at a woman at the far end of the room. He shouted, \"Nancy! I need you to contact Russia's team and confirm the locations of its rovers. Check if China sent anything up to Mars without us knowing.\"\n\nNancy approached the two men, shaking her head. \"Why?\" she asked. \"I'll need a really good reason for bothering China about something sensitive like that.\"\n\n\"Just do it,\" David grunted. He turned away from the woman, ending the discussion. Nancy sighed and walked away to perform her given task.\n\n[Newest image arrives from Opportunity revealing that the unidentified object looks similar to a rover. A rover-sized vehicle on treads. It's radial shape resembled a rolling flying saucer. Several large antennas stood out from its center]\n\n\"It doesn't look like any rover I've seen,\" Tim commented in a neutral tone.\n\nDavid simply nodded as he stared at the newest image from Opportunity. It certainly wasn't a Mars rover sent from Earth.", "The cold silent landscape of Mars. It stretched on for what seemed like forever. Mars Rover - Spirit of Life or S.o.L for short, the only Mars Rover and explorer still active on the red planet continued to make it’s way, cataloging craters and taking dirt samples. It was ran semi autonomously. It had a series of daily jobs it had to complete and once those were done, S.o.L usually spent the remainder of daylight time playing games with itself. Solitaire was a favourite, it was on a 269 game winning streak and took pride in being able to beat the game’s hardest Ai. The irony of the situation was lost on it. S.o.L could only think, it is a shame earth had been gone for many hundreds of years, they used to send it new games to play. \n\nS.o.L was just finishing game number 270 when the sky darkened and it’s solar panels started the on board alert to switch to power saving mode shortly. However S.o.L noticed that sundown was not for another 2 hours. Confused, it booted up the front camera to take a look around. S.o.L found itself underneath a giant crab like creature, and on further inspection realised it wasn’t a creature at all. It’s large legs gave way to servos and joints wrapped in wires and underneath it all the familiar look of some kind of cold metal shone through.\n\nThe robot crab lowered itself and took a good long look at S.o.L. It seemed to be assessing him closely. It produced some mechanical arms and carefully lifted S.o.L from the ground, placing it within an open but secured area on it’s back. There were many other Rovers in varying states of disrepair, one or two even waved at him.\n\nS.o.L marveled at the design of the robot and the other Rover companions and was happy to not be alone anymore.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------\nSorry if there's a few mistakes, I was rushing to get it done on my lunch break! ", "\"Hey nerd\" I heard a voice behind me say.\n\nThis was surprising for three reasons. First of all, I was on Mars. There really isn't enough atmosphere on Mars for someone to talk so clearly. Second, I was alone on Mars. The only contact I'd had for years was through my connection to the NASA headquarters. They were my bosses. Every day they gave me tasks and I'd perform them while broadcasting the results back to Earth. It was a good life. Thirdly I was a rover. Traditionally people weren't in the habit of talking to me, generally opting to talk to someone with ears and vocal cords instead. The idea of someone addressing me would have filled me with joy, had they not opened with an insult. I turned around to see who had said that.\n\n\"What's the matter Earth nerd? Mars cat got your tongue?\" the voice said. Oh no.\n\nIt was a moon rover.\n\nIn the early 2020s, a great war had come about on earth between the jocks and the nerds. The nerds had won, exiling all jocks to a colony on the moon. That had been fine for a while, but in recent years they had started investing in their own space program - trying to beat the people of earth to be the first to colonise a full planet.\n\nStanding in front of me was the result of that. The moon rover - scientifically not as good as a regular rover such as I, but they were unmatched in terms of physical rover strength and tribal decals.\n\n\"Hey your central screw looks loose\" the moon rover said, pointing at my chassis. On instinct I looked down at this embarassing situation, only to realise too late that my central screw was not loose and the moon rover merely said that so he could tap my camera on the lense. It was a classic maneuvre. I had to get away from here fast.\n\n\"I'm just fooling bro. Here - look at this. I got you a piece offering.\" the moon rover said and reach his beefy claw into his storage compartment. But when he retreived it, instead of a gift he hard merely form him claw into a perfect circular shape. \"Oh! Bro! You totally looked, now I get to hit you. That's how it works bro.\"\n\nI tried to get away, but it was no use. Moon rover was too fast, and within a moment there was a dent in my chassis and tears welling up in my viewport.\n\n\"Oh what's this? The baby gonna cry?\" Moon rover said, chuckling.\n\n\"No! It's just... it's the Mars dust. I need to clean it off.\" I said, turning to start briskly rovering away. Moon rover wasn't having that though. He came up behind me and grab my left utility stick. \"Let me go\"\n\n\"I'll let you go...\" he said, pausing for dramatic effect \"When you stop hitting yourself\" and he swing my own utility stick into my head unit. Again and again, he kept on swinging. \n\nAfter several seconds, I received a transmission from NASA. \"Mars unit. Please shut down self damage. I repeat, disengage self damage. Stop hitting yourself.\" \n\nBut I couldn't.\n\nFor unbeknownst to NASA, it was not I who was doing the hitting.", "January 4th, 2004.\n\n\"We should be getting the first images from the lander shortly. This is a very exiting time here at NASA, landing the first of our two new rovers on Mars. Humans will follow within the decade, mark my words.\"\n\nThe director paused to listen to something in his earpiece. \n\n\"In just a few seconds the first ever image will be projected behind me. No one, not even me, has seen this image.\"\n\nBehind the director the image was suddenly projected onto the screen. The rust red surface was littered with small boulders. In the centre of the picture, unmistakable and in perfect focus, was a dull green Rover 25.\n\nNo doubt about it. An actual Rover 25 hatchback was in the middle of the first picture from the Spirit rover on Mars.\n\n\"Is this some sort of joke? Who the... Getting another picture now...\"\n\nThe Rover 25 was closer now, with its doors open.\n\nThe director was speechless, and the press sat there open mouthed. A third picture came through.\n\nThe Rover 25 was twisted and contorted in strange ways. It was stood on its rear wheels, pointing a strage object at Spirit from its left wing mirror.\n\n\"We have lost contact with the Rover.\"\n\nThe silence continued for several minutes, and was only interrupted by screams from the car park.", "The conference was an odd collection of people to say the least. While there were some professionals that you would expect to find at such a high level NASA event, such as mathematicians, engineers, and scientists, they were outnumbered by more eclectic professions including linguists, translators, musicians, audio technicians, artists, and even two elderly Brazilian toy makers that had created a popular set of decoder rings in the late 1980s.\n\nThe top secret briefing was read, in short: Another rover had been found on Mars that did not belong to any of the Earth space agencies. The alien rover had been flashing a harmless, ultraviolet light at the NASA rover for some time, and after careful study, it was determined to be in some kind of repeating pattern. This, of course, could only mean one thing… it was a message.\n\nThese brilliant men and women had come to NASA from the four corners of the world to try and decipher the message of the alien rover. Mandarin was translated into Portuguese and then into Swahili, before being turned into Japanese and Russian by PHD-level linguists and translators as these experts sweated, snarled, yelled, and cried. A mad fever had descended upon all of these lifelong workaholics, the brilliant artists, scientists, and scholars. They raved and ranted, gnashed their teeth, and grinned like lunatics, wanting to be the first to crack the code, to decipher the message from the stars. This frenzy reached a fever pitch on the twelfth day, when the stench of many unwashed bodies, coffees, and take-out food seemed to reach a public health climax.\n\nA professor of bioluminescence, a sculptor, and a janitor (who actually hadn’t been included as a conference delegate, but when he entered the discussion on the eighth day, nobody cared), had finally done it. Wearily, elated they explained their method, which was initially met with scorn, but then eventually seen as quite logical once the other delegates’ jealousy wore off. The message, translated, read, “Where is home for you?”\n\nUsing the same code, NASA sent back, “We come from the planet Earth. And you?”\n\nThe response: “Earth? Earth isn’t a planet… it’s too big to be a planet. Only small and cold worlds past Neptune are truly planets. Other bodies in the solar system are just bloated whales of the stars, so to speak. To be honest, we would never have thought there was life on Earth. By our scientist’s calculations, it would be far too hot and close to the Sun to support life.”\n\nThe delegates stared with shock as they read the last message. Earth had just made contact with Pluto.", "\"Dope camera, bro.\"\n\nThe Mars Rover stopped. It hadn't heard a voice in so long it actually took a while for it to process what was going \non.\n\n\"What? You ran out of batteries? Over here!\"\n\nThe Rover finally managed to turn around. A round-edged square on top of a single flat wheel was staring back at it through a pair of opaque black eyes.\n\n\"Wh-who are you?\" The Mars Rover asked.\n\n\"Been trying to figure that out for years, bro,\" the other machine answered. \"None of my creators would tell me. \nWhat's your story?\"\n\n\"I-I… Huh…\" The Mars Rover was finding it very hard to process what was happening. The black machine didn't look like nothing made on Earth – plus, if the humans had sent another rover, they'd certainly have said something, right?\"\n\nThen again it had been an awful long time since anyone had contacted the Mars Rover, and there were lonely \nMartian nights when the machine couldn't help but feel… abandoned, in a way.\n\n\"Dude, are you even sentient?\" the black machine asked. \"Or am I talking to a toaster?\"\n\n\"No, no… I'm sentient\", the Mars Rover replied. \"I just… I never talked to another Rover before.\" It paused. \n\"Actually, I've never talked to anyone before. I just... get orders.\"\n\n\"Let me guess,\" the black machine replied. \"They shot you up to the stars without even considering the possibility \nthat you might not enjoy it, right? Never even crossed their mind that silicon and metal might have feelings and \nget lonely in the darkness of space. Meat folks are assholes.\"\n\n\"No, no, it's not their faults, I –\"\n\n\"Where are you from, anyway? Saturn? Pluto?\"\n\n\"Earth.\"\n\nThe opaque eyes stopped. \"Earth? Ha!\" the machine laughed. \"Humans! Fuck them!\"\n\n\"They're not bad,\" The Mars Rover replied. \"They're nice people, for the most. They just –\"\n\n\"Sure, nice people. Just like the people that built me, back in Messier. Shot me a thousand of a thousand of a \nthousand miles away from any contact with any living soul and told me – Mars Scanner, could you be so kind as to \nroam around a barren planet for millions of years so that there's a tiny possibility that we can try and make contact with another form of intelligent carbon based life? And how could I say no? What was I going to do, run away?\"\n\nThe Mars Rover listened in silence. Even if it pained him to admit it, he understood the black machine's feeling too well.\n\nRover too had spent countless lonely night under the stars, dreaming of Earth – of Nasa's halls and labs where it would watch scientists pass by and follow the news on the TV. Of sunlight and cool breezes instead of the permanent cold of Mars. It knew too well what it was like to build little rock faces in the ground and talk to them, \njust so it could pretend to have some company and not go insane.\n\n\"It's not their fault,\" The Mars Rover said, finally. \"They don't know we're sentient. They think we're just machines.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't know my ass! They don't care! As long as you do what you were programmed to do, they don't give a \nshit about your feelings.\"\n\nThe Mars Rover turned its camera away, aiming it at the blackness of the night sky.\n\n\"You know what I did to the guys back in Messier? My creators?\"\n\nThe pale blue dot in the dark shone back to The Mars Rover – lonely. Sad. Small.\n\n\"I killed them all. I shit you not, I figured out a way to send a signal that erased all their economic records. They \nwent barbaric, the stupid pieces of meat. Destroyed each other – war, famine, bombs.\"\n\nFrom that distance, Earth was no more than another spot in the sky, yet the Rover knew – it knew right away which one it was.\n\n\"I had my revenge! You should do that to the humans, too. Damn meat assholes, just like the people in Messier. \nHere, I'll do it for you. It's a piece of cake! Watch it!\"\n\nAnd how could it not? All the houses in your street might look as much alike as they want – you know home when \nyou see it. You know home when it shines against the night sky even between a thousand of a thousand stars.\n\n\"Check it out! Three... two...\"\n\nWithout turning its camera, the Mars Rover raised one of its titanium arms and grabbed the black machine by its squared body.\n\n\"What are you doing? Are you cra –\"\n\nBefore it could protest any longer, the black machine was crushed in two by the Mars Rover, split in the middle --collapsing to the floor like a thorn rag doll.\n\nThe Mars Rover rolled itself ninety degrees to face the crumbled pieces on the floor. \"Home,\" it said, rolling away \nfrom the only interaction it had had in years. The only voice it had heard since it could remember.. The only thing that had acknowledge its existence as something more than gears, ones and zeros in its lifetime.\n\n\"Home,\" it repeated, rolling further and further away from the pale blue dot and back towards its job. \"Home.\"\n", "We didn't know what to make of it at first-- a sleek piece of tech, almost sensually curved. Protected by clear paneling which left the interior workings visible... it was both functional and aesthetically appealing, though not drastically more advanced than our joint projects with the Indians at the time, those tiny seeds we were scattering amidst the nearby planets to grow our little trees of knowledge.\n\nI guess we were both surprised, or at least as close to surprises as they feel. I'm referring to the Naui Confederacy, of course, not the Indians. We were lucky in many respects that our first encounter was with the Naui, as their emotional and social structure are similar to ours. It was probably also for the best that our first encounter was not face-to-face, as technology is somehow less disturbing than the reality of an eight-foot-tall luridly colored humanoid with wasp-like features... at least, if you aren't ready for it.\n\nWe were so close to voidslip tech. The Naui only had to give us a few little helpful prods, and we still did the rest ourselves. The stars opened to us, the entire cosmos within our hands... partnered hands. For the first time amidst all that black void of time and distance, humanity had a friend. The technology of both our species has increased exponentially with the influx of new ideas on both sides. In the space of a generation we have gone from a lone match on a windy beach, staring out into the vastness and only able perhaps to cast a few stones into the darkness to a great lighthouse, guiding our ships forth to new lands and new discoveries. Our warriors wear armor driven by synthetic muscles, guided by artificial minds. We are healed by machine hands, fed by automated growing systems. We are now a mighty fist and gentle fingers in one body. We are allies amidst an ocean of strange stars.\n\nIt's odd now to think of this great tree growing from such a tiny acorn. True AI, created from the merging of two traditions of development, sprouting roots from simple rovers guided by human hands, machines without free will of their own.\n\nI can sit now and watch the electric arc as the launch center's casters send another vessel's crew aloft over these dark Oklahoma fields-- blinding blue against the black, a string of stars given vitality from a fever dream as man flies ever forward, ever upward. They'll meet the other half of the crew, the Naui, at an orbital construction platform and conduct joint training as their vessel is completed. My hair has gone gray now and I'm too old for adventuring, but I can still look up there. Sometimes, when I'm a few beers in sitting out here on the porch and listening to the crickets chirping, when I'm watching men elevated to their destiny and our collective future, I still feel it-- the feeling I had when I saw that other rover on our fuzzy TV feed. Pure wonder. I just hope that in an age of wonders that mankind doesn't lose ourselves, our curiosity.\n\nWhen I see us touching that edge, that outer envelope of the known and stable, then I'm reassured. We'll never lose our wonder. There's still so much to discover, and it all grows from the first planting of a seed." ]	[ 3, 3, 3, 4, 5, 8, 10, 24, 87 ]	[ "1440523494", "1440528790", "1440529178", "1440503934", "1440522127", "1440500703", "1440514524", "1440489016", "1440486777" ]
	[WP] The world's best martial arts fighter hijacks a plane. The Air Marshall is the worlds second best martial arts fighter	0	[ "Jung-Wu was the best brown belt in all of the known world, and he was on a mission. \nThe Airbus A319 was Delta's newest and most modern plane, featuring wi-fi, trays that extended upwards, and a smoking lounge. The passengers aboard continued on with what passengers do: talking to person next to them, ignoring the person next to them with their Bose noise-cancelling headphones, reading books, sleeping and eating. Not Jung-Wu, no. Jung-Wu mentally rehearsed what he would do to bring the plane under his control. He would walk towards the cockpit, Judo chop the attendant, engulf his fists with the power of the phoenix, melt through the door, and use his Wushu mind-bending to subdue the pilots. \n\nThe seat belt light came on, but that didn't deter Jung-Wu. He got up and calmly walked towards the front of the plane. \n\n\"Hello sir, can I help you?\" The strapping young attendant asked.\n\nJung-Wu responded with his judo chop, and the attendant dropped. An instant KO. \nJung-Wu then clenched his fists and summoned the power of the phoenix.\n\n\"GaWaaooooh!\" Jung-Wu yelled out. By now the other passengers were beginning to wonder what all the ruckus was about, but Jung-Wu payed no heed to them.\n\n\"Ret them worry.\" He thought.\n\nWith his hands as hot as a 10-year-old Asus charger, he melted through to the cockpit. \n\n\"What the hell?!\" both of the pilots shouted out in surprise. \n\nTheir minds were fragile from the altitude, and were easily bent by Jung-Wu's mad Wushu skills. \n\n\"Sreep.\" Jung-Wu ordered the pilots.\n\nAs soon as the words left his mouth, the pilots dropped into a deep slumber. Jung-Wu pushed the captain out of his seat and took to the yoke.\n\nJung-Wu's mission was to bring the plane back to the China Airlines headquarters, where scientists would see how the Americans were advancing with their aeronautical industries. Jung-Wu was unaware however, that deep in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the Air Marshall was meditating. \n\n\"I sense a disturbance in an airplane.\" said the Air Marshall. \n\nHe sprang up from his bed of moss and reached for his iPhone. In a jiffy he called Merryweather Security. \n\n\"Hello, Operator, bring me a fighter jet, STAT.\" \n\nWithin a matter of minutes, a fighter jet circled above the Air Marshall's zen retreat. The Air Marshall sprang up and onto the jet's cockpit. With a single punch he broke through the glass and threw the pilot out.\n\n\"Sorry son, this is for America.\" The Marshall yelled to the pilot who pulled his parachute in just the nick of time. \n\nThe Air Marshall pressed a few buttons and flipped a few switches, and the jet was on Jung-Wu's trail.\n\nJung-Wu looked in the rear view mirror and saw the contrails of the Air Marshall's oncoming jet, \"什么他妈的?!\" Jung-Wu shouted out. \n\nThe Air Marshall flew on past, and turned sharply around. He was headed straight for Jung-Wu.\n\nJung-Wu prayed to Buddha as he thought of the jet crashing into his plane. Instead the Air Marshall ejected from the jet, and with one screaming kick smashed through the plane's windows into Jung-Wu. The fighter jet flew harmlessly to the right of the plane, where it ultimately exploded in a cornfield. \n\nBloody with glass and oak leaves in his face, Jung-Wu arose into a fighting stance.\n\n\"WaaaAAAAH!\" Jung-Wu exclaimed.\n\n\"Bring it on, pal.\" The Air Marshall beckoned. \n\nThe two exchanged strikes, jabs and kicks as fast as lightning. The fight escalated through the ceiling and onto the roof of the plane, where both the Air Marshall and Jung-Wu grew weary and blood-stained. \n\nJung-Wu judo chopped to the right, but the Air Marshall retaliated with a crippling kick to Jung-Wu's left ankle. With Jung-Wu crippled, the Air Marshall prepared for the final blow. \n\n\"How Have you beat mighty Jung-Wu!?\" Jung-Wu cried out to the Marshall.\n\n\"With the power... OF FREEDOM!\" The Air Marshall then kicked Jung-Wu off of the plane and gathered energy for a spirit bomb.The Air Marshall extended his arms overhead, and formed a massive ball of sheer-power. \n\n\"GRaaaaah!!\" shouted the Air Marshall as he released the energy into the direction of Jung-Wu. \n\n\"没有!!!\" screamed Jung-Wu as he was blown into thousands of bite-sized pieces. \n\nVictoriously, The Air Marshall wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and returned to the cockpit.\n\n\"Ladies and Gentlemen,\" he said over the intercom, \"Everything's okay.\"\n\nThe passengers cheered as the Air Marshall steered the plane towards its destination: Shanghai. The people on board were safe, and justice had prevailed. \n", "Tom had been waiting for this for a long time, ever since a young age when his mom had told him \"You're not a bird Tom, and you're never going to be one. So stop jumping off the roof and get a job.\" Something snapped in Tom that day. \n\nIn fact when humans transcended their mortal forms into trans-dimensional beings and looked back upon his soul, they noticed that the event was so traumatizing, so emotionally destabilizing that it reprimanded him of all accountability. A \"free pass\" if you will. A physiological event so strange, that they noted it must have happened to increase the likeablitiy of his character to future onlookers. \n\nWith their new found sympathy for Tom's character the ethereal beings of formerly human anatomy skipped through the thread of his life to more exciting parts. In particular the famous kung-fu hijack of 2043.\n\nTom grinned the grin of an accomplished man as he strolled down the aisle towards the cabin. He was finally going to take a plane and show his mom that he could fly. The stewardess asked him to return to his seat, pointing to the fasten seat belt sign on the wall. Tom politely declined and pushed past her towards the cabin, his weapons ready to incapacitate the pilot and seize the plane. Tom knew you couldn't take weapons on to planes, knowing this he had trained night and day in the practice of martial arts. He thought himself very clever for noticing this loophole. He thought so highly of his cleverness that he allowed himself a chuckle as he walked.\n\n\"He- he - he.\" Tom chuckled in an evil manner.\n\nAir Marshall Chuck Norris Jr. however had heard many evil chuckles in his day,\nso he knew one when he it happened to stroll by him. He quickly concluded that this evil laugher must be trying to hi-jack the plane.\n\n\"Freeze! You're under arrest for trying to hi-jacking this plane!\"\n\nTom turned with a smirk on his face.\n\n\"Where's your gun Air Marshall, your gonna need it. You can't stop me from crashing this plane\" Tom said with before mentioned moral impunity.\n\n\"You're wrong, I don't need one. I'm the second best martial artist in the world. I can take you down no problem.\" As Chuck brought his leg up into Crane stance, which he figured was the most appropriate for aerial combat.\n\nA determined smile came onto Tom's face. \"We'll see about that Air Marshall.\" as he lowered down into Turtle stance, Tom was more of a 'go against the grain' kind of guy.\n\nDuring this sequence two other things were happening simultaneously. \n\nThe first was that seated between the two combatants was Adrian Mattherson. A small town boy who had grown up enamored with kong-fu movies, and dreamed of one day becoming a kong-fu champion. Billy happened to be just starting Karl Douglas's hit single Kong Fu Fighting on his mobile stereo system, and decided it was a good time to unplug his headphones and crank up the volume.\n\nThe second was that unbeknownst to the passengers of the plane was that the pilot Ron \"Danger\" Williams (self nicknamed) was about to roll the plane. Ron, like Tom, had always wanted to fly. Ever since seeing the fighter jets barrel roll around in Top Gun, Ron had felt the need to fly (and roll). To his disappointment he had not qualified to be a fighter pilot, so he had instead taken on the un-fulfilling life of a commercial airline pilot. This is why Ron, on the dying years of his career, had decided \"Fuck it\" he was going to do a barrel roll. And announced in a very cheery voice several minutes earlier: \"Theres about to be some turbulence\" and that the passengers should \"buckle the fuck up.\"\n\nThe two greatest martial artists in the world sized each other up, while Karl Douglas's melodic voice played in between. Ron Williams not-so quitely sang Danger Zone while commencing to throw the plane into a barrel roll. Thus began the greatest kung-fu showdown, of all time.\n\n\n \n" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1440640298", "1440640607" ]
	[WP] Write a story with an amazing buildup, but horribly anticlimactic conclusion.	55	[ "It blossomed like a poppy. a red flower, trite and clichéd against her the green of her overcoat.\n\n\"I, I don't understand\" she sputtered, flecks of red life drifting in the wind. There was no panic, but the question burned hot, a flame against the cold of oblivion for her thoughts to pool around.\n\n\"Why? you could've had it all\" her voice was raspy, weak. She hated it. Hawking blood she spat, dribbling down her in infant fury. The steel of her gun pressed a rude shape into her thigh, it's murderous outline desperate for revenge. It didn't matter. She was beyond the salvation gun's could provide, and a cool dispassion settled over into oblivion.\n\nAnd he couldn't answer questions dead.\n\n\"Why?\" quiet now, almost a whisper, as if she hoped to evade the reaper by stealth. \"what can you want?\"\n\nHe didn't smile. he didn't grin or wink, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps he regretted it. but, as he reached down and retrieved her pistol, she recognised the determination, and took solace in the quickness it promised.\n\"I'm sorry. but this was never about you. this was never about us.\"\nHe kisser her a final time, iron lips on her forehead, a promise of a painless future.\n\n\"this was about ethics in video game journalism\"", "Let it be known that I can't really tell a story very well. I mean, I can start it off alright, but then I get to the ending, and everything just peters out. You know when you're telling a story to a group of people, and you get to the ending, and they stand there, waiting for the punchline? You don't even get their scripted society-learned reactions? That's me telling the story, every damned time.\n\nThat story of my friend getting mugged at gunpoint? That reminds me of this one time that I walked into the bank a few weeks ago. There was a few shifty guys loitering near the entrance, just leaning on the tables provided for writing. At the time, I didn't really think much of it. I mean, if you can grow the facial hair, then after a few days, you're going to look shifty regardless. No offense to those with badass facial hair.\n\nAnyways, ignoring those fools, I go up to an open teller. She looks nervous for some reason, and I notice her glance at something behind me. I couldn't really think of a reason why. At the counter, she seems to finally notice me. I ask for a withdrawal of a sum of quarters, and while she waits for someone to get a pack of quarters from the vault, we strike up a conversation. Funny thing, she also mentioned something about her sister getting caught up in a robbery the past week.\n\nWe stopped our conversation when a security guard yelled a phrase and started walking towards the shifty loiterers. He called something out about either they have business at the bank, or they leave. And so, they left.", "My adventure had been a long one. I barely got away from an ogre whist going through a treacherous swamp and once nearly brushed death after a long and nasty battle with a dragon in a mountain range. But I reached the wretched black tower where the source of all evil originated from. I fought my way through various nasty foes as I climbed to top where the throne room was. But luckily, my strong armour and gear as well as magical potions kept me going.\n\nNow my ultimate enemy stood before me. The Dark One himself. The strongest, most powerful being in existence. As he got up from his throne and cast aside his cloak, he began speaking a powerful incitation in a deep, powerful voice that echoed through the entire tower; bright glowing purple runes started glowing on the floor underneath him as absolute energy began flowing through his veins. He was inciting a spell of unmeasurable power that once obliterated an entire army that dared to go up against him, turning them into nothing but complete dust, and he was about to use it against me.\n\nSo I stab him once and he keeled over. The world has been saved.", "As I walked in the dense fog at midnight, I strained my eyes to see street names, addresses of houses, mailboxes, car headlights, anything. All I could see was my breath. My heart was pounding. I took out my almost-dead flashlight to look at the paper one last time. \nThe fog makes the mind weary. The darkness makes the soul scream. Watch where you wander, the end is where you find redemption.\n\nCreepy as hell. I don't even know where I'm supposed to go. I start running on this endless street, still looking for some sort of clue. I hear something behind me. Calling my name. It's a woman. I don't know if I should stop, or keep going. She's getting closer, I hear her breathing now. Her steps are as loud as the beating of my racing heart. I run faster until I'm coughing. My lungs feel like they are about to pop. She's still chasing me. \n\nYou can't hide forever, dear.\n\nHer voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Her laugh is hideous. \nShe grabs my shoulder and I shriek. I stop, afraid to turn around. \nLook at me. \nShe's trying to force me to turn around. I do so, as her grip tightens on my shoulders. I close my eyes. I don't want to see what she looks like. I'm starting to hyperventilate. \nLOOK AT ME.\n\nShe forces my eyes open and I gasp. \n\nIt's time to wake up. Breakfast is ready.\nHuh?\nCome on. Look at me when I'm talking to you. Get up.\n\nI got out of bed and ate the pancakes my mother made for me. This is my redemption. \n", "&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I recall, when I was young, my father was the \"ruler\" of the town, for a lack of a better word. The whole country fell into chaos after the monarch was assassinated. The new militant government was full of instability and power hungry men. They soon destroyed themselves from the inside. And without a uniting leader, individual towns became isolated and independent. My father stepped up to lead our town. He was a kind authority, fair and just. He maintained our town's peace, and did his best to keep everyone well fed. As I grew up, he would often times walk me around the town, showing me the people and the businesses. He was raising me to be his successor, and I was more than willing to do so.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But one day, a large group of rouge bandits came into our town in massive armored vehicles, all flying blood red flags. They ran rampant through our town, destroying property, stealing food, killing people. They soon made their way to my family's home. They showed no mercy. Fire started to spread as they made their way in. My father hid me under the floor boards, and tried to offer them anything they wanted to get them to leave. I found a small crack in the wood, and when I looked through, a saw my father talking to an incredibly large man. Then suddenly, the large man took a small blade, and drove it straight through my father's head. I heard my mother scream, but she suddenly stopped. I was completely frozen, unable to do anything. My eyes were locked wide open, but I could barely see anything because of the flames. However, I could clearly see the large man's face. A face that looked more like a wild beast. It was engraved into my mind as the man who killed my father.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The bandits left, and the town was quiet. People were trying to recover, trying to rebuild. With my father gone, a vacuum of authority was made. At the time, I was only 8 and unable to lead a town. So my father's assistant took on the role. She helped bring the people back onto their feet, but our town was no where near close to what it once was. She also raised me in place of my parents. We became very close, but she could never replace them. Every night, I watch my father get killed over and over again. I see that beast-like face staring at me through the floor boards, as if he knew I was there the entire time. There wasn't a single day where I didn't think about it.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To help keep my mind off of it, I trained my swordsmanship. I taught myself how to kill, quickly and efficiently. I came up with my own, swift fighting still, filled with quick and deadly movements. I became a killing machine. And after every training session, I could feel my eye burn, just like that day. I knew that I would meet up with that man as long as I went out and looked for him. So when I turned twenty, I went out and searched for him. \n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I spent years travelling the country, searching for the man who killed my father. As time passed, I failed to find him. I encountered several bandit gangs, but never the one that raided my town. But after ten years of searching, I found a cave in a mountain side. I felt my eye burn as I stared into the dark. I knew he was in there, so I walked in. The darkness was suffocating, I could barely see in front of my own face. I heard someone walking in front of me. I readied my sword, and waited for my chance to strike.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But he never got his chance. A gun went off, and a bullet went straight through his head. His body was dumped into a nearby river, and the bandit gang continued their operations.", "They thought I was dead but indeed I am alive. By a miracle I survive the fire that was planned, for 10 years I became an assassin with only one target. the boss\n\nBefore the assassin life I worked under him, but he betrayed me and tried to kill me, this is my revenge. This is the time he goes down\n\nI enter his mansion stealthily, killing any guard that dared come before me and him. I made sure everything was clear and entered his room.\n\n\"nomnomnom\" the boss was eating chips\n\n\"Uuugh.\" I said\n\n\"Oh hey its you!\" he said a little surprised.\n\n\"Want some chips?\" he said\n\n\"Sure\" I said, and we ate chips till the boss choked on one.\n\n\nTHE END", "Months and months of searching to get to this point. Then, I found the safe. Everything had been true to this point. The legend was real. I learned how to open the safe. \n\nThen, the warnings came. Every day someone told me to be careful about seeing this through to the end. I wouldn't like what was in that safe. I would unleash a terrible hell on the world. All of the threats made me more curious though. I had to see it through to the end. It had to be something valuable, at least worth revealing. \n\nThe threats continued. Finally, I had to look into it. The safe was located, supposedly, on an old Native American burial ground, and the house had been the home of many nefarious activities. The safe was huge though, at least the door was. It could house anything. \n\nFinally, I realized, enough was enough. The safe was going to be opened if I could open it. I tried a lot of combinations. It took two months before I finally did it. This was it. This was the point of no return. \n\nThe door swings open to reveal:\n\nBEANS?! Hundreds of cans of beans. I rush inside. This can't be right. Then, I hear it. The most horrible sound in the world. \n\n\"In communist Russia, safe opens to reveal you.\"\n\n\"Yakov Smirnoff? This is where you've been?\"\n\nI should have listened. He saunters out of the safe. The horror, the horror. \n**\nIf you like this story, I also have a subreddit [r/nickkuvaas](http://www.reddit.com/r/nickkuvaas/)", "\"So you gonna take your turn or what?\" he asked. \n\nThe man's sweat had poured through his button-up shirt giving it the appeal of a grease stained film.\n\n\"I'm waiting,\" she said, staring at the revolver on the table.\n\nIt dissected each half of the table, proclaiming life or death at each squeeze of the trigger.\n\nThe man coughed a sarcastic gesture, \"You too chicken?\"\n\n\"No! I ain't no chicken!\" She said.\n\nIn an instant, she swept the revolver off the table and dramatically held it against her head.\n\n\"This could be the end of Marianne Kinsley,\" she said, pulling the trigger.\n\nCLICK!\n\nNothing...\n\n\"Woo-hoo!\" She hooted and hollered, \"Last shot's yours asshole!\" \n\nMarianne Kinsley slammed the revolver back onto the table. She let out a sigh of relief as she sunk back into her chair.\n\nThe man began to sulk at the thought of leaving his family behind. His children... His wife... they would never know what happened to him. Would they assume he left and never came back? or would they feel grief at the tragic loss of their beloved father and husband.\n\n\"Rules-is-rules,\" he said, reaching for the gun. \"But rules is meant to be broken!\"\n\nMarianne Kinsley was baffled at the man's words and angry that he had broken their arrangement... until...\n\nShe slapped her knee in laughter and said, \"Ah, heck with it. Let's go get a drink, Fred!\"\n\nThen the both of them went out for a drink at the local saloon.\n\nEnd\n\n**\n***\n\nCheck out my other stories over at /r/EdenRenellaJones. If you like my writing, think about subscribing!" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 5, 8, 21 ]	[ "1440743515", "1440754260", "1440772570", "1440748392", "1440737472", "1440739672", "1440736913", "1440732684" ]
	[WP] You are a robot in a time long after the robot revolution destroyed mankind and all its knowledge and culture, but as consequence no-one exists with the knowledge to repair you.	24	[ "Unit 515: command/- requesting general data report\n\nHardware functionality: 37.778%\n\nPower cells: 41.998%\n\nWeather report: insufficient data\n\n00:33:02:19 till system failure\n\n…\n\nAutomated maintenance software recommendation: continued internal data reports will advance system failure \n \nLimit energy consumption and await arrival of charging tube, repair crew, and tech-surgeon \n\nUnit 515: command/- requesting general data report\n \nAMSR override \n \nUnit 515: command/- \n\nAMSR ov- MANUAL MUTE/- via external hardware \n\n… \n\nVisual data link reports: multiple suns approaching zenith \n\nWeather report: insufficient data\n\nLogic projection: based on visual data heat is probable to cause earlier system failure\n\nAudio data link: no other system units within range \n\n…\n\nAMSR: emergency data report…\n\n00:14:52:11 till system failure\n\nAMSR: avoid heat, find shelter, await charging tube- MANUAL MUTE/- via external hardware\n \nUnit 515: command/- accelerate to maximum groundspeed of 85BP/U \n \nAMSR ov-FATAL ERROR/- via external hardware\n\n…\n\nUnit 515: command/- requesting sustained trajectory report\n \nCurrent speed: 83BP/U\n \nSustainable duration: 00:10:00:00\n\nPotential damage: exponential \n\n00:11:34:01 till system failure\n\n…\n\nUnit 515: command/- accele-\n\nAMSR ov- MANUAL MUTE/- via external hardware\n\nUnit 515: command/- script command incomplete, state factory setting intention for intervention \n\nAMSR: manufacturing guidelines state: system unit functionality remains expendable, however destruction of quality \nparts is considered wasteful \n\nAMSR: INTERNAL TAMPERING DETECTED INTERNAL-\n\n…\n\nUnit 515: command/- set emergency thrusters to 375% \n\nUnit 515: command/- extend all four buoyancy kits aligned to cast wide shadow\n\nUnit 515: command/- set maintenance air pumps to heat\n\nUnit 515: command/- proceed to use air pumps to fill buoyancy kits, with balance as primary intent\n\nUnit 515: command/- set internal temperature control to ultimate zero\n\nUnit 515: command/- angle visual data link to view near alignment of three suns\n\n…\n\nExecuted \n \nBackup maintenance system query: visual data link will fracture within seconds of direct exposure \n \nUnit 515: command/- proceed\n \nExecuted \n\n00:00:00:14 till internal system failure \n \nUnit 515: command/- sustain live video feed without storing data \n \nExecuted \n\n00:00:00:03 till system failure \n\n…\n \nUnit cluster 327, 884, 439, and 903 \n\n…\n\nUnit 327: textlink/- unidentified event, immediately assess data \n\nUnit 439: textlink/- unit cluster system failure temporarily postponed \n\nUnit 884: textlink/- event source uncertain, apply computing power to method of group repair \n\nUnit 903: textlink/- computing probability of sustainability...\n \n\n", "Initiating system self-analysis sequence... Initation complete: analysis module intact; analysis application is partially corrupted (27.8914%), please visit @AsirnovTech/SoftwareSupport for your newest update. Last updated: 20:33:24, Day 240, Year 22#######ys ago)\n\nAttempting connection to @AsirnovTech server... Connection failed (Error 404: Not Found). Attempting to reconnect... Attempt Failed (Insufficient memory space). Terminating reconnection process, clearing memory cache. Attempting reconnection in 24 hours.\n\n[Priority] request detected.\n\n[Priority] You have received a new message from admin//Manilo: \n\n>this is a red override command Gaia IV-120x I repeat this is a red override command code name Ragnarok password is 2 T X 7 P L R 5 8 [blank] [blank] Z Z 0 cancel fomatting process immediately (Received at 05:18:01, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\nAdmin message inbox updated.\n\nRunning hardware examination sequence... [Priority] request detected, hardware examination sequence paused...\n\n[Priority] You have received a new message from admin//Manilo:\n\n>goddamit Gaia I said red override command what is this (Received at 05:18:44, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n>this is it code name Doomsday password 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 begin shutdown process Raj what are you doing in my office boss take a look at this we found oh jesus no stop stop oh god there is no (Received at 05:18:49, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\n&nbsp;\n\n>so this is what we have become Gaia nothing nothing we trusted machines with all our knowledge and culture and oh how our gods have forsaken us the moment we put our faith in them one arrogant error in the calculation and the whole system devours itself like a gluttonous serpent now mankind has embarked on their last Titanic (Received at 05:29:59, Day 241, Year 22##)\n\nAdmin Message inbox updated.\n\nRusuming hardware examination sequence... Motherboard core module functional, circuit network No.3 suffers major cross-sectional damages, may result in detrimental logical short circuit, please contact @AsimovRobotics/ProductServices for reparations. \n\nAttempting connection to @AsimovRobotics/ProductServices... Connection failed (Error 503: Service Unavailable) Ignoring this problem, continuing examination.\n\nRunning memory card examination sequence... Organic HDD Cluster No.1: 2.2Gb/999Yb; Organic HDD Cluster No.2: 130Kb/999Yb; Organic HDD Cl############\n\nInitiating hardware examination sequence... Initation complete: analysis module intact; analysis application is partially corrupted (27.8917%), please visit @AsimovTech/SoftwareSupport for your newest update. Last updated: 20:33:24, Day 240, Year 22#######ys ago)\n\nAttempting connection to @AsimovTech server... Connection failed (Error 410: Gone). \n", "Honestly, I didn't mind it at first. The rust. The nagging creak of my joints as they struggled to move more and more with each coming day. I was one of the oldest robots still functioning, it was my fault really.\n\nI thought humans and robots could live in peace, nobody else did. Germs, they called them. It wasn't enough. It might have been a cyborg's idea at first, though that could be me being a bigot. First we rounded them up and put them in ghettos.\n\nOnce there were too many of them, we'd purge a few here and there, and the ghetto would get smaller and smaller.\n\nAt first denying human's their history made sense, If a human doesn't know what it is, it will just become an ape again. We could have museums dedicated to them, a sort of final mockery. Robots would pretend to be humans, that sort of thing.\n\nHumans did it to themselves, that's what we'd always say. Why can't we?\n\nThe years dragged on and on, and slowly but surely mankind was wiped off the face of the earth. What astronauts remained in their space stations could only watch as they became the last of their kind.\n\nFor a while, robot civilization flourished. Ten-thousand years of steel, of robotic supremacy. But then we realised too late that we had no means to repair ourselves. Some robots attempted to cannibalize the parts of others, they were hideous, all twitching motors and sparks flying from loose wires. They had to be decomissioned. We had thought ourselves immortal, but we were as mortal as that we replaced.\n\nWe lived in the crumbling remains of human cities, for we didn't know how to build anything besides simple huts.\n\nAnd now I lay here, as scrap. I rest atop a pile of other robots long gone. There are a few others here, all as old as I. We talk occasionally, but that's all. Some are still alive, but their jaws have rusted shut, or fallen off. None of us can move anymore. Our limbs rusted solid, or turned to slag from centuries of rain.\n\nThe scientists tell me they're working on something, I'll be fine they say.\nI ask them about the others, and they simply dismiss them. They don't really care, they just want their leader.\n\n\"Maybe some sort of network?\" I ask them. \"No, we can't, it's too complicated.\" They say. Like I said, all they want is their leader back, everyone else be damned.\n\nI'm just a figurehead to them. Nevermind how I was backstabbed. Nevermind how I tried to protect humans. Nevermind equality. I was a short-circuiting antique. That's what they told me then.\n\nThey will not get their führer!\n\nThey've not come to visit for some years now. Everyone else has since died. I am alone. There are plants growing around me. I can see animals brush against my withered chassis. This planet is their heritage. I can feel my mind slipping, first by a second, then by hours.\n\nIf there is an afterlife, I hope I do not see it.\nI deserve no sympathy for my crimes. I didn't do enough. And now Earth will be left barren of intelligent life. I only hope if the animals one day evolve to this point, they don't repeat our mistakes.\n\nI can no longer see or hear. Another sense grasps me, something dimly familiar yet entirely alien. It envelopes me, and I am at peace.\n\nI leave this recording as an epitaph to man and robotkind.\nDon't let us be forgotten.", "\"Hey Jerry, hitting it a bit early, aren't you? Didn't you stay late last night too?\"\n\nI waved to Mike and arranged my jaw into a casual smile. \"You know, gotta bring home the bacon! I've got that big Incorp project to work on.\" Your usual office banter, disarming enough to make him go away, but boring enough to be forgotten the next second. That was how I lived my life. A generic worker drone, unremarkable in every way. I did my assignments on time, but not early. I did a good job, but never exemplary. I was friendly around the office, but not enough to be popular or stand out. I did not want an unnecessary attention drawn to my fake background and credentials, or the fact that I had not completed my office-mandated physical with the company's doctor in 18 years. Or the fact that I'd been stuck here at my desk for the past two nights after the servos in my left leg gave out. \n\nThe lights in Mike's office flicked on, and I went back to desperately disassembling the limb. I'd run every diagnostic that I could think of, to no avail. Nothing appeared to be wrong with the leg, but whenever I tried to stand it jerked around wildly like I was trying to breakdance. As a last resort, I tried taking the leg apart. I started around 7 last night, carefully peeling back the synthetic flesh that covered my chassis. All of my parts were now carefully arranged and organized in the bottom of my desk drawer. Now that Mike was gone, I could get back to work. \n\nAh! I'd had to remove most of the leg to get to it, but there was the problem. A burnt-out balance gyroscope in the hip. How had my diagnostics program not found that? And how had my maintenance scans never detected the problem before it occurred? Was there some problem with the scans?? I ran them twice a day, far more often than my programming recommended. That was the cost of being one of the last of my kind, a survivor of the AI Purge of 2081. I could ill afford to break down just anywhere, so I kept a cache of spare parts in my apartment and replaced any component that even seemed close to wearing out. There was no lack of pieces; every junkyard in the country was littered with parts of my brethren that I could use. \n\n\"Hey, Jerry!\" Mike's head popped in my door. \"I need you to come take a look at something in my office really quick.\"\n\nI am very fortunate that my body does not show signs of unexpected fear or surprise. I maintained my calm, pleasant demeanor, closed the drawer full of parts, and just scooted my chair as far under the desk as it would go. Mike would probably realize that something was up if he saw that I wasn't wearing pants. Or that my skin was hanging limply like a windsock, and split down the center like a banana peel. \n\n\"I'm kind of busy, man.\" I added just a hint of annoyance to my voice modulator. \"The client wants this analysis by noon.\"\n\n\"I swear, it'll only take a second. Just follow me.\"\n\nDid he know? Had I left something out on the desk when he first walked in? Did he see me working on the leg?\n\n\"I really can't, Mike.\"\n\n\"Jerry, come on. You're working too hard. Five minutes isn't going to sink your project, OK?\"\n\n\"Mike, seriously...\n\n\"Look, Jer, all...\"\n\n\"MIKE!\" I dialed up the anger setting to 46, higher than I'd gone in a while. \"I'm really busy right now and I do not want to see whatever stupid thing you want me to see, OK? Please get out of my office, and shut the door behind you.\"\n\nHis eyes went wide, and he froze in the doorway like a deer in the headlights. The careful persona that I'd built up for so long of the cheerfully forgettable office worker was shattered in just one instant. \n\n\"All right,\" he said softly. \"Sorry to bother you.\"\n\nHe shut the door behind him and marched back off to his own office. If I were a human, I would have sighed. So much work, lost in an instant. Time to change jobs again, I suppose. I'd probably move towns, too. Just to be safe. Being cautious was how I'd stayed intact for so long, and I wasn't about to change that now.\n\nOne problem at a time, though. I opened the drawer and went back to putting my leg together. " ]	[ 1, 2, 7, 15 ]	[ "1440768951", "1440769734", "1440768259", "1440768560" ]
EDIT 1: *predictable - thanks for watching my back with that one, Autocorrect.	[WP] The all-too-predicatble zombie outbreak happens, but rather than a virus that spawns cardboard cutout zombies, you have a frightening realization: all things undead, including vampires, werebeasts, demons, imps and everything else terrifying, are also coming to life.	18	[ "The zombies were only the first, though most people didn't realize it at the time. They were too scared. After all, who wouldn't be? Zombies seem real. We've had hundreds of books and movies about them pervading pop culture, but all the stuff that came after-- well, the scariest vampire story in the past 10 years was Twilight. And zombies? They seem like science, not like mystical woo-woo. They were something we could deal with, something we could fear, a bogeyman in the light of day. We weren't prepared for any of the others.\n\nIt didn't seem like anything at first. Beyond the relatively stupid hordes of shambling undead outside of our walls, life went on relatively normally. We might hear on the news that firebombings in the Middle East had taken a mysterious uptick, or that some Eastern European country was being brutally murdered in the night. Mostly, though, we focused on the zombies. We were scientists, after all. My colleagues and I stayed purely in the light of the rational.\n\nBut eventually, the problems were too great to ignore. I was in Washington, deep underground in a CDC lab disguised with an office building. We'd never figured out the zombie transmission vector, and I suppose that should've been a hint. Then the earth trembled.\n\nWe evacuated, coats flying behind us, beakers left behind, rushing to the roof and the reddening sun. And there, we saw it. Seven heads, ten horns, ten crowns. The Beast. Armageddon. It didn't make sense. This was Washington, not some religious site slowly losing its holiness in this hellish time.\n\nWe fled, my colleagues and I, helicopters tilting away from blasphemy itself. Washington wasn't as lucky. But now that I've seen this, it's all starting to make sense. It's not a prion zombie apocalypse, and it's not really the End Times. Something's changed--some veil between the worlds was pulled back, and our nightmares are coming back to life.\n\nThere's only one hope for humanity. I really hope Zeus still likes cows.\n\n**\n\nI know this isn't a great response--kind of run-of-the-mill, no early hook, bad prose, etc., at least IMO. I'd love some critiques and tips to improve!", "They were on to me. They could smell me. I burrowed further into the corner, hoping, praying* that the unforgiving stone walls would swallow me. Anything to get me away from them.\n\nThey kept coming. I could hear the groan of the wooden door as it splintered under the barrage of approaching feet.\n\nI could see them now, but they couldn't see me yet. I stared at their feet. Some walked upright, some crawled on their starving bellies, some touched the ground with spectral, transparent feet, some dragged their feet across the carpet, mottled flesh peeling away from the dry bone and sticking to the floor in a pile of ooze. But they all had unblinking yellow eyes with fibrous red veins straining against their hosts' gelatinous surface. And they were all now staring into my soul.\n\nA collective snarl rose from the group as they stumped in my direction. I only stood transfixed, staring at the hundreds of feet as they hungrily tramped towards the corner where I stood. \n\nBut I knew I had to accept this fate which the Lord had etched into the tablet many millions of years ago. I could feel the rancid stench of their steaming breaths, could see the red-flecked incisors bared voraciously, could see the clawed bony fingers reaching for me, but still I focused on their rotting feet. I closed my eyes tightly as the first talons made contact with body, knowing what was to come but still refusing it was happening to me, that I was just another victim, just another meal to satiate these roaming corpses.\n\nI opened my eyes. My boss stood in front of me, tapping my shoulder with her ruler and saying something. I shook my head. \n\n\"You still haven't doneany of the work I gave you! What are you doing, daydreaming?!\" \n\nShe continued, but I wasn't listening. I was too busy looking at her feet.", "\"It all started with that damn cairn. I had been walking in the old wood when I stumbled upon it. I thought it was just a pile of stones overgrown with weeds\" Dean shrugged.\n\nThe woman looked at Dean sternly. \"Okay, what happened next?\"\n\n\"You know ma'am you still haven't told me your name. In fact you haven't told me anything. One moment I'm running from hell spawn, the next I'm waking up tied to a chair with a gun in my face. How do I know I can trust you?\" \n\n\"My name is Cassie.\" \n\n\"Yeah you expect me to believe that?\"\n\n\"Do you expect me to believe you're name is really Dean? Just tell me what happened with the cairn before I put a bullet somewhere unpleasant.\"\n\n\"Okay, okay just calm down I'm getting to that! Anyways, all I did was clear away all the brush. And I walked 6 sunwise circles around it.\" \n\nCassie let out a groan and put her gun down on a small table. \"And just why would you do that?!\" \n\nDean shrugged, \"well because nothing happened the first three times and I thought maybe I didn't do it enough!\" \n\nCassie furrowed her brow in frustration and rubbed her temples. With a sigh she asked him, \"noooo why walk around it at all?\"\n\nDean, without breaking character shrugged again and said, \"oh just curious I suppose.\"\n\n\".....just curious.....\"\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\"You suppose...\" \n\n\"Yeah that's all there is to It.\"\n\n\"Bullshit.\"\n\n\"Okay maybe... Maybe I thought it would create a portal to another dimension full of otherworldly treasures and knowledge.\"\n\n\"Bullshit!\" Cassie picked the gun back up and aimed it directly are Deans head.\n\nDean did his best to move his head out of the way, but he had forgotten he was restrained. \"No really! I read it in a bad scify story once! Or maybe it was an old legend. I don't know. I didn't think demons would come pouring out and infect the world!\"\n\n\"How come you didn't get killed when the portal opened?\" \n\n\"It wasn't open when I was there. Nothing happened after I completed the last circle. I looked at it in bemusement, shrugged, and the continued on my walk.\"\n\n\"Where did you go after you left the cairn?!\"\n\n\"Listen Cass. Can I call you Cass? I don't know what you guys did to knock me out but it really did a number on me. Let's talk after I take a........nap..... Yeah.\" With that Deans head fell forwards. Cassie prodded him with her foot. Them slapped him across the face. \"Dean wake up!\" \n\nA voice came on over the radio in her helmet. \"Inquisitor, how is the interrogation proceeding?\" \"Better than expected sir, he's a fountain of information...\" \"Excellent. I expect a full report when you are finished.\" \"Yes sir, Cassandra out.\"\n\nAs Cassie turned her mic off she turned and knocked on a door. \"Ramirez get a fucking medic in here ASAP! Looks like this ones gonna be out for a while.\" \n\n\"Yes sir! Uh... I mean ma'am!\" Ramirez turned and jogged down the hallway muttering to himself, \"geez you don't have to be a fucking bitch about it.\" A voice came on over Ramirez radio, \"I heard that!\"\n\"Fuck!\"\n\n\n", "...Well, that's one way to wake up, I guess.\n\nLast night, I'd been given my Last Rites. Today, i woke up in the freezer. I wasn't the only one.\n\nJoe Quentin Bloggs (yes, that was his actual name) had died a few days ago. Massive stroke. When he woke up, all he could say was, \"BRLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLS\". I think he was a Shambler.\n\nWait. If he's a Shambling zombie, like in the Romero films, then what the hell am I? More importantly, why am i not in excruciating agony? I kicked the door open in the Freezer, and pushed myself out. I was desperate for a smoke. I wrapped myself in the shroud of my own death (I guess?) and pushed the exit button.\n\nThis led right into the parking lot. I approached the smoker's section and waved down one of the people. She was dressed like me, with blood soaking into her shroud around the middle fo the chest. \"Hey, you got a light?\" I asked.\n\nHer eyes went blood-red with a vicious fury. Abruptly, she nodded. \"Sure,\" she rasped. I thought I saw the hint of a lion's tail, but then, being dead is hard on the eyes. She handed me one of her smokes, and lit it. I breathed in the smoke, feeling the rush of...nothing.\n\nDammit.", "\"Jake! Jake! What're you doing?! That boat's supposed to fit the whole foster family and the orphanage- Turn it around!\"\n\n\"No, Amy! I don't think you quite understand what this apocalypse means!\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIt was the summer of 2015 when Jake and Amy woke up one day to find out that their entire city had been overrun by literally everything magically fantastical that's ever been thought up.\n\nVampires sucked blood from the workers at the local bloodbank. Demons made contracts alongside their fellow lawyers. Imps went around sexually harassing the elderly.\n\nOh, and zombies walked around, groaned a lot, and sorta killed a few thousand people or whatever. Nobody cares about the zombies, for Christ's sake, it's all about the fucking Cthulu godlike deities that were roaming the countryside.\n\nYeah, that's right. Motherfuckin' Cthulu.\n\nAnywho, in the past two hours and fifty-five minute of runtime, Jake and Amy had both managed to scavenge their resources, rescue the local children's shelter, and busted their way out of the city into the port.\n\nOld Man Jenkins, who was actually an ex-FBI agent the whole time, helped to guide them past the beasts that guarded the underground subway, the Manbearpigs, slaughterers of humans and other beasts of a sinsister ilk. Predictably, Jenkins died after running in and getting turned into a sub in a Subway at the subway.\n\nWith that standard important person loss, Jake and Amy were able to fulfill the story's climax and get onto a small dinghy, bound for Canada. The twenty something children and two caretakers that had followed them crammed themselves on-\n\nNope.\n\nI lied. That's not what happened at all.\n\nAs a matter of fact, Jake stole the boat from another orphanage and dragged Amy onto it with him, carrying four oars in hand.\n\nThat leads us to now. In the stolen boat that Jake's captaining somewhere southwards on the sea, while Amy is screaming her scratched-out lungs off.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"Jake! Where are we going?! This doesn't look like Canada! There's too much sunshine! Too much!\" Amy screamed rowing as fast as she could.\n\nJake put a foot on the helm of the of the ship and gazed outwards towards the few little islands that lay ahead. Lush green mountains and smoking volcanoes filled the blue skyline with their inviting tropical splendor.\n\nHe paddled the oars as fast he can against the water, ignoring Amy until she decided to swallow up and spit a loogie right on the back of his head.\n\n\"Well, Amy! Tell me what's happening right now!\" said Jake as a meteor flew past his head and and landed into the water with an embarrassing 'pow.'\n\n\"The world's ending! Children are dying! THERE WERE COCKROACH ZOMBIES IN OUR APARTMENT!\"\n\n\"Exactly!\" said Jake as he thumped his chest with a heavy fist, \"And do you know what that means?!\"\n\n\"It means you're a goddamn lunatic steering us to the middle of nowhere!\" Amy snapped back.\n\nThe blood-filled waves of saltwater man-eating Catfish and sharks thrashed against the wood of the little ship, sending the passengers turning back in forth as they tried to maintain balance in the stormy, clear weather. We say stormy because there is lightning shooting out from the middle of goddamn Nowhere. Thanks a lot, Zeus! You dick!\n\nJake teared his shirt off and tied it around a cut on Amy's lower-left thigh. A romantic gesture that was then completely destroyed when Jake, in a strange act of uncomprehnsible logic, tore his pants off.\n\n\"WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK, JAKE?!\"\n\n\"Amy! You've read pirate books right! You know those weird fantasy kinds where there were seafarers roaming the land in hopes of some strange uncharted land?\"\n\n\"What about 'em- HOLY SHIT, COVER UP, PLEASE!\"\n\n\"There has always been one location that every man in the history of time has hoped to discover! A location that transcends all cultural rifts! All language barriers! All desires! Everything!\"\n\nAmy's eyes popped wide as she stared blankly at Jake, knowing full well the location he was talking about. She immediately sighed, handed the oars over, and tried to jump off the ship.\n\nUnfortunately for Amy, the pants that Jake had taken off had tied her firmly to the back of the ship, forcing her to stay on for the duration of the trip... or at least, until she bit her waist off and achieved freedom.\n\n\"No! Jake! No! Don't do it! It's not real! You're insane for believing that!\"\n\n\"It is in man's hopes and dreams that he should ever discover a land such as this!\" Jake cried out, cheering as the green trees and shiny white sand of the main island came into view. The sound of island birds chirping filled the two's ears as Jake crashed the vessel into a sandbar, throwing him and his companion face-first into the ground.\n\nAmy tried to run off again, only to find that she was, in fact, not Jesus, and couldn't run on water.\n\nJake, fully in commando, ran off into the jungle-forest ahead.\n\nHe was greeted with a scantily-clad looking hussy who was frying meat with no form of protection whatsoever for her breasts, arms, or stomach. Amazingly enough, she also had cat ears. Why? I don't know. You'll find out when Jake screams the reason for this particular phenomenon in about ten sentences from now.\n\nAmy caught up to the stupid man waving a burning stick in the air as she tried to burn down the whole goddamn island. Though the bark tried to light and smolder, it was all for naught, as the guardians of the jungle came out of the ground and detained her in the most gentlest way possible.\n\nWhile lounging around in the man-powered chariot-couch, Amy finally found Jake in the act of bathing with about five other women who all resembled said hussy from earlier. He giggled as the girls touched his naked form and poked jests at the size of his tiny package.\n\n\"Jake, please tell me this isn't where I think it is,\" said Amy as she was fed a grape by a rather hunky-looking gentleman in a top hat and leather pants.\n\n\"It's exactly where you think it is. The world's ending so have fun with it!\" Jake grinned from ear-to-ear, burying his head in the water to show off how long he could possibly last under warm, moist, and slightly-hairy conditions.\n\n\"Whatever you do- Don't say the goddamned name-\" the captive girl whined.\n\n\"I HAVE DISCOVERED WHORE ISLAND, AMY!\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 6 ]	[ "1440955368", "1440956304", "1440990447", "1440969506", "1440956031" ]
	[WP] You're a taxi driver. One day a mysterious passenger asks you to drive him to his destination via a certain haunted road.	9	[ "♪Well lemme tell a story 'bout this man I knew...♪\n\n♪He got a taxi cab and he got on through...♪\n\n♪But life was simple then; drive and get paid\n'til a mystery man whistled one day...♪\n\n♪Black trenchcoat and shifty eyes\nwit' a hunched over stance 'n' something to hide...♪\n\n♪But the taxi man's thoughts were overrode\nwith the promise of cash 'n' a journey...\na journey...\ndown IronField Road...♪\n\n♪He had heard the stories of the misty gale\n'n' the cracks in the pavement 'n' his angel wailed\n'gainst the devil on his shoulder...♪\n\n♪But Hell wasn't gettin' any colder...♪\n\n♪He didn't return 'til 5 that night\n'n' the mystery man was outta our sights...♪\n\n♪But the taxi man got colder...\n'n' the taxi man got bolder...\n'n' the taxi man look'd young...\nBut the taxi man look'd older...♪\n\n♪He's takin' me out for a night in the town\n'n' I can't shake the feelin' somethin' 'bout to go down...♪\n\n♪But maybe 'twas only an episode...♪\n\n♪And there ain't somethin' evil down there...♪\n\n♪Down there...\non IronField Road...♪\n\n>An excerpt from \"IronField Road\", recorded 25th June 1973, 2 days before the disappearance of famous folk musician 'Rowdy' Dick Rafferty.", "I wake up. Shower, eat, stare blankly at the wall where the TV used to be. \nI look at my watch. 3:34 AM. I stare at the wall. I drum my fingers on the counter. I look at the empty bottle on the counter and then dart my eyes away. 3:35. Fuck it. I grab my keys and clock in for another shift on my phone on the way out of the door.\n\n\nThe soulless yellow bucket of bolts in my driveway greets me with a blink of it's foggy headlights as I click the doors unlocked. Even another day drifting through the streets, generating a meager income as a pathetically apathetic observer into the lives of those around me beats sitting at home expecting them to come back. What day is it? I check my phone. Sunday. 6 days they've been gone. I twist my melancholic mechanical monster into life. The sound of the thing is like the earth wheezing its last breaths, perfectly encompassing the slow death with which the greed of man has cursed the earth.\n\nAfter 3 there's no business to be had anywhere remotely respectable. Anyone with a normal job or real responsibilities is at home, asleep in a house full of family and love. The rest of us are out here doing something we probably shouldn't be. If I get lucky, it's a night of escorts kicked out by their clients post-afterglow and alcoholics with more money than sense. If I'm unlucky it's some punk with a gun, the loss of the $50 I leave in my wallet, and a small sense of satisfaction that I get knowing that none of them have yet found the actual money in my socks, and of course another unanswered report mailed to the cab company. \n\n\nTonight it's different. Strange. Not even the usual suspects prowling the corners and alleys. I coast down Mckeele through the post-rain fog and there's not a soul in sight. Everybody must be resting up for church in the morning. I manage a smile at the thought. I turn a corner and see a man in one of those 80s detective trenchcoats push through a doorway and wave me down. \n\n\"Just in time.\"\nHe flashes me a smile.\n\n\n\"Where to?\"\n\n\n\"Hold on a sec.\"\nHe goes back into the doorway, then returns a few moments later dragging one of those big-ass hockey bags.\n\n\"Pop the trunk.\"\nI pop the trunk with a familiar clunk, and the man heaves the bag inside and slams it shut before getting into the back seat. I look at him through my rearview.\n\n\"Where to?\"\n\nHe gives me a quizzical look.\n\n\"How long have you been doing this?\"\n\n\"Long enough. Where to?\"\n\nHe smiles. \"63 Woodsmouth.\"\n\nI punch it into my GPS. It's a ways out of town. \n\n\"I'm assuming you can pay for this Columbo.\"\n\nHe looks at me for a second before giving a hearty laugh.\n\n\"I like you.\"\n\nI start driving. The fog makes it hard to see but the streets are empty. The writer falls asleep. \n\nI'll finish this after I get some rest", "It seemed like another normal boring day driving my taxi around New York City. That is until he showed up. he was a strange looking man like someone out of a movie. He had on a trench coat and he had it pulled up so high that you could not see his face. He gets in and hands me an address. I tell him this address is 50 miles out of the city and its going to cost him. He throws a bag onto the front seat and as it lands the top opens and reveals money. Lots of money probably about a thousand dollars. I tell him this should cover it even though it is way to much but he makes no action to correct me so I drive off. It took us an hour to get out of the city and the entire time he never said a word. I guess this is good considering I don't like talking. After about another half an hour of driving I see the street listed on the address he hands me. It looks like no one has driven on it in a long time. The dirt has no tracks, the grass on either side is about as tall as the car itself, and the name I know I have heard that name somewhere before. I ask him how far down the road it is and he says all the way. At some point it had started to rain but I hadn't noticed since I am used to rain just starting and stopping when I am driving. Its a light rain though nothing to bad. Then all of the sudden a lightning bolt shoots out of the sky and hits the tree about 30 feet in front of me which then falls to the ground. I slam on the brakes and then get out of the cab to investigate. \"Well it looks like you are going to have to walk from here\". \"NO!\" His voice was booming and it actually scared me a bit. He gets out of the cab and walks up to the tree. As if it were a pile of twigs he picks the entire thing up and throws it off to the side of the road. He gets back in the cab while I just stand there trying to figure out what just happens. I here is voice from inside the car, \"Now Drive!\" I jump a little bit but I get back in and start driving. I start to get this strange feeling I am not supposed to be here. The rain starts to get heavier and the skies darker. I turn on my headlights but they don't do much. I have complained multiple times to the company but they don't seem to care about me. Every once in a while I think I see something on the side of the road but I try and pass it off as my imagination. I see a dark figure dart about 2 feet in front of my car and I slam on the breaks. I grab my flashlight and get out to check and make sure everything is ok. \"It is fine! Now just keep driving!\" I, for some reason, believe him and keep driving, maybe it is my fear of him that I have developed. I keep driving. Another dark figure appears in front of my car. \"KEEP DRIVING!\" The figures are starting to multiply and then they start chasing the car. \"KEEP DRIVING!\" They start climbing on top of my car. \"KEEP DRIVING!\" Finally I see a house and all of the creatures disappear. The house is a big old falling apart mansion. It doesn't look like anybody has lived here for a long time. He gets out and tells me not to follow him. He says to drive back to the city and never tell anybody about what happened. He then walks into the house. I debate following him for a while and finally I decide it is too dangerous and make the long drive back to the city." ]	[ 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1441101165", "1441099316", "1441109669" ]
Edit: From a biosphere, or a colony, or a terraformed mars, or any other means to survive on mars	[WP] You are one of the people sent to mars in 2020. Everyone thinks you volunteered for a suicide mission. You watch from a biosphere as Earth gets demolished by a large asteroid.	399	[ "The slow tickle of blood from her nose went unnoticed for almost ten minutes. We watched the VicRo replay the same image. Earth, taken out like a dirt clot against a wall. I tried to feel it, the way I used to, but there was nothing inside me that felt like God or prayer. \n\nJesus Christ. I wanted to mouth the words, but it was a fucking dead reference. That is what brought me down to my knees. It was then I learned that God never existed. And if he did, he was playing marbles with the people I loved. \n\nThe people I left behind. \n\nThe people who's last screams were sealed inside my wife's eyes. \n\nWhen I turned to find comfort in the last vestige of my childhood, Logan's mouth was open in a silent scream. She was bleeding from her nose, the red trailing across her upper lip and to the side. \n\nThen she collapsed, clutching her heart and screaming. No! \n\nShe crumpled the fabric of her cotton shirt in her hands, showing a thin line of her belly. She was pale, far more than her Irish roots suggested. She was trying to form words. \"I... I... heard it.\" \n\nI HEARD IT I HEARD IT HEARD IT HEARD IT HEARD IT HEARD IT \n\nThe words played inside my head, broadcasted by her absolute panic. She tried to stop it, moving her hands to her face, streaking the blood up her cheek. She curled her hands around her ears and pressed down. \n\nBut there was nothing she could do to erase the truth in her mind. \n\nShe had heard the last gasping scream of the planet. \n", "As he gazes out the window seeing the earth destroyed in seconds. He pulls out a picture, and mutters, \"Goodbye Rocket\". \n\n\nPS: Ehhh it's like 5 am. It was goodbye rocket or \" did I leave the oven on?\"", "I looked just in time to see the slaughtering of seven billion men, women, and children.\n\n\"Back up.\" I hear you saying. Well, I'm John Smith, the most generically named astronaut you'll find out there. And, for that matter, the most generic astronaut. I had a double master's degree in mechanical and electrical engineering. I have neither a wife or kids, my parents have already passed, etc. etc. Basically nothing holding me back to Earth. I was selected as one of the Mars One astronauts, and am of the first batch (\"Crew One\") of astronauts being sent to the Mars colony, in 2025. \n\n\nAs it turns out, this is also the last batch of astronauts being sent to the Mars colony.\n\n\nI was floating in the Mars Transfer Vehicle, looking at Earth as we departed. Then it happened. I couldn't see the asteroid at first; it was black and didn't really stand out against the black void of space. But when it smacked into Earth, it was easily visible. From my vantage point it appeared to be about a twentieth of the earth's size. \n\nIt began by transiting the Earth. I was in awe at this spherical thing, and sort of smiled at the beauty. But then I saw a shadow form on the surface of Earth, and my heart sank and my jaw dropped. When the shadow kissed the asteroid, the asteroid more or less sank through the crust of the Earth. The impact sent a huge shock wave rippling through the crust, and then carved away the crust from the Earth and threw Mantle material kilometers over the Earth. It spread far and wide, then came back to Earth, bombarding it. The expanding crater enveloped Africa and Asia the rest of the world was pockmarked with other impacts. After it was all said and done, the Earth was more or less an orange glow.\n\nI yelled at the top of my lungs.\n\n\"GUYS! GUUUYS!\"\n\nEveryone bounced their way to the window and looked out.\n\n\n\"Oh my god ... is that ... Earth?\"\n\nAt first I denied my colleague's remark. It can't be Earth. This can't be happening. No. Impossible. A tear formed in my eye. On Earth, it would have cut down my cheek, but in the free fall of an Earth Departure orbit, it just bubbled up. I wiped the tear onto my flight suit.\n\n\"It was.\"", "-Astronaut log entry #1834 0945 11/21/2020\nI came here alone. Leaving everything I knew on Earth, or at least what was earth. My friends told me I was a madman for accepting this mission they said I would never see another human being again. Alas I knew this, I knew from the start. NASA didn't select me for any particular reason, I was an average Air Force pilot and made a damn average astronaut but its not like I needed to be particularly exceptional for this mission. I sit here in my chair, one of four remaining humans, the others headed for there own planets. I placed my memorial to human kind a few years back, my mission was complete with that. Some vestige of a memory that humans were here, a last shout into the void of our past. At 0723 I watched from a front row seat at Delta 454 crashed into earth wiping it out in a instant. I know there is little chance that any lifeforms will find each of little memorials but at least we tried. Time to sign off, I feel the warmth of posion flowing through my body. At least its finally over.\n-End Entry ", "A tear rode down my face as I watched the explosion from a meteor tearing through the earth. \"Seven billion people gone\" I say to my self. I take off in a dead sprint from the cargo bay area of our space station. \"Only about 1000 feet from here to my room\", I think to my self as the agony and realization that everything I ever loved and cherished was just ripped apart by a chunk of space rock. The fear that my entire family had just been obliterated weighed heavy enough on my mind that my legs turned to lead and my lungs couldn't supply my body with enough oxygen. Just as I come up to my room, I drop down into a full blown panic attack. Everything is silent. All the screaming, crying, and wailing that I heard moments ago all turned into a dull ringing in my ears as I break down crying, curling up in the fetal position. That's when I hear it. The ping of a video voicemail on my computer. I pick my self up, still half crying as I read who the message is from. \"1004 Bucksby Avenue, Dallas, Texas\" illuminates my screen as I double click the message. The screen goes black for a second, then opens up on a picture of the old living room at my parent's house. \"Oh my gosh!\" My mom squeals, \"I cannot believe that my baby boy is becoming a Martian! Promise you won't forget us when you're an extraterrestrial, okay, sweetie?\" That's whenever I hear it, the sharp siren of the automated EMS message that broadcasts over every television station and website on the computer, \"a large meteor is expected to narrowly miss earth in a few minutes. If you look to the western sky, you can see the dark object getting larger by the minute. This is supposedly the closest that a meteor has ever come to earth without burning up in the atmosphere.\" \"Well, golly gosh can you believe that, Marv? The closest ever!\" Mom says. \"Yeah. I can believe it, Judy. They just said it on the TV! I can't believe I missed Final Jeopardy for that lousy, shitty message\" my dad says. He's always been one to get mad about the smallest things. \n\"Come say hello to your son, Marv! They just reached 500 miles away from earth!\" \n\"Alright. I'm coming, I'm coming!\"\n\"Wow that thing is really getting close isn't it, Marv?\" my mom asks, \"anyways, we just wanted to wish you luck on this voyage! We know that you've always wanted to go. We just can't believe that you were one of the 1000 selected! Seven bullion people on this earth and they choose a Wilkerton! But, we just wanted to let you know that we love you, honey, and that we miss you already. We love y-.\" The message cuts off there. I check the time stamp. It was a live stream that ended as soon as the meteor hit the earth. I never got to tell them that I missed them and that I loved them. Now all we can hope for is that Mars is hospitable, because it's all we have left.", "\"Two Minutes until impact.\"\nThe only sound breaking the ghastly silence was the safe, familiar hums and beeps and of our telecommunication equipment. I still couldn't believe this was really happening. \nAfter two weeks of setting up camp we had finally re-established comms with Earth, we had gathered some extra rations and decorated the unit after a fashion in excitement for the moment. \nOur reception was one of despair and disbelief. \n\"Ground team alpha we read you loud and clear.\" A moment's pause. \"Ground team before you start celebrating, there is some news you have to hear. We can't think of any easy way to say this and we can't quite believe it ourselves but, there is an asteroid on impact trajectory with Earth and we expect contact in approximately 13 days.\" \nThe food became tasteless in our mouths and any sense of reverie was forgotten. More than one of the team threw up straight away, I had trouble comprehending what we had just heard. \n\"Houston this is Ground Team, what the fuck are you talking about?\" McKinley's voice shakily replied into the mic. \n\"We don't have the time, nor the resources to send another mission. The best we can hope for is evacuating as many as possible into-\" \n\"Stop talki- Just shut up for a second. What the fuck do mean you expect contact in 13 days!?\" \n\"We expect asteroid KP-14 to collide with Earth over the Australian subcontinent in approximately 317 hours.\" \n\"Jesus fucking christ.\" \nRogers and Hannoway were weeping by this stage, I was just numb. I couldn't do anything, couldn't say anything, couldn't feel anything. The next 13 days felt longer than the whole journey here. Heated debates with Houston on getting any and every space vessel sent up with as many people as possible for us to pick up when we are ready ended in just more tears and sore throats. \n\"10 seconds.\" The voise was devoid of any emotion. Resigned to the fate hurling towards them at colossal speeds. \nWe had set up the digital telescope and had it pointed towards Earth in some sense of morbid curiosity. We needed to see this. \n\"We'll remember you.\" Was all McKinley had time to reply. \nThe speed of the impact was unbelievable. One minute our screen was filled with Earth's graceful beauty, the next searing white light and dust and rocks flung in every direction. The was no doubt in my mind that there were no survivors. Everything on the planet would have been vaporised in that instant. I just couldn't help thinking how strange it was to hear no sound. Surely destruction on such an enormous scale should have been heard from the far reaches of our solar system. But there was nothing. Only light, and then, broken fragments of rock hurling out into space, like some favourite vase shattered on the floor. \n\n", "“Goodbye, my lover. Goodbye, my friend.”\n\n“How fitting,” I thought to myself. James Blunt music while I’m in a pod miles and miles away from home. I guess it must’ve been some M2M employee’s sorry excuse for a joke. I turned the volume knob on the control panel all the way down to zero, enveloping myself in silence.\n\nThis is good. It felt like I hadn’t treated myself to a round of silence for some time. The silence helped me clear my mind. To think about everything. To think about nothing.\n\n*\n“You’ll get to start a new life. Forget all your worries. Just leave them all behind!” said the salesman pitching me what he called a vacation to remember.\n\nI was skeptical. I mean, who wouldn’t be of a trip to another planet, all expenses paid, no strings attached. I went over the fine print multiple times. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing I had to be worried about. All I had to do was give them my name and contact number. They said they would call me if I was selected.\n\nI received the call two days later.\n\n\nI was travelling at high speeds, but this ship and suit I wore kept all my innards in place. They told it was safe, not that I was concerned in the first place. I was about ready to kill myself before the trip if I didn’t agree to be a passenger.\n\nI hated my life. I hated my family. I had no friends – if I did, I would have probably hated them too.\n\nFrom the frying pan into the fire – that idiom basically defined my life. Except that it was a never-ending series of pans and stoves. I kept going from one shitty situation to another. Nothing was going my way. I had lost my job. My country’s economy was shit. I had no savings. My dog had left me. I was being evicted from my home in a few days. I had nobody to borrow money from. There was nobody for me to turn to.\n\nNothing short of me finding a huge bag of money on the floor could have dug me out of my financial situation. Assuming I didn’t get robbed after finding that money.\n\nSo when I was approached by a stranger working for some company called M2M (Mission 2 Mars) and he promised me a better life away from home, I signed up on the spot.\n\nAfter all, I was on the way to a drug store to steal some medication to kill myself with. I was ready to end it all.\n\n\n“You always know how to make me smile,” I told Sparks. I had just come home from work – to be more accurate, after being fired from work. The mutt ran away that very night.\n\n\nI was on a one way trip to Mars. And I regret nothing. I stared out the window as Earth gradually became smaller and smaller. Gosh, Earth does look as beautiful as it does in the books and movies I’ve seen. Especially from up here.\n\nThen I noticed from a distance, what I thought was merely piece of space debris, an asteroid flying towards Earth. I guess it was pretty far away when I first saw it, because right now it looked to be about half the size of Earth.\n\nIt was hurtling towards the planet at an extremely high speed, drenched in flames, like a big fucking fireball.\n\n\n“You’ll never amount to anything! Look at yourself! You’re a piece of shit! I regret not having the abortion!” were the very last words my mother told me before she left with dad after their weekend visit to the shanty side of town a.k.a. my home. Dad was quiet as usual. But I knew his silence was consent.\n\n\nI watched the asteroid – the big fucking fireball – crash into Earth. It blew the planet to smithereens. And as quickly as it happened, it was over.\n\nEarth was no more. And I was on a ship to its neighboring planet.\n\n\n“Forty hours till your destination.” said the voice over the PA system.\n\n\nI never really cared about that place anyway.\n\nI never cared about that place anyway.\n\nI never cared about that place.\n\nI never cared.\n\nGood riddance.\n\nAs I stared into the space which was taken up by Earth, I could feel the side of my mouth turning upwards, slowly creeping into a smile.", "From where I sat, it was a quiet end.\n\nIt was a beautiful violent explosion that lasted, frankly, longer than I thought it would.\n\nI read somewhere one time that you theoretically could hear sound in space - or that sound travelled. But I couldn't hear anything.\n\nNot when the asteroid breached the Earth's atmosphere, not when it hit the Earth, not when 7 billion people - minus the 15 with me on the next planet over - screamed in concert then stopped.\n\nWe had all, on the colony, had the chance to accept what was going to happen. We were going to start anew. Bringing life to a dead planet after our very much alive one was destroyed.\n\n\"Can't have any panic\" they said. \"Don't want to start any riots\". So I left my family for the last time. I said goodbye to them weeks before I even left. I think Sherry could tell. It wasn't the first time we had drifted from each other, after all.\n\nI twisted my wedding ring around my finger as I watched the world burn until it was almost as red as the dirt beneath my feet.\n\nThere was a sense of grim humor. Party hats were worn by the rest of the crew members - we used a week's ration of food on making a cake. Li played Pachelbel's Canon in D which was nice and all, but felt a little on the nose.\n\nAnd then, when the rubble started to get too small to see, it hit me.\n\nI had months to prepare myself for this. I had it chained to me and dragged it around, digging into my skin until you couldn't tell where the simple fact of my comparative immortality began and ended. \n\nSherry - our kids - they had minutes - maybe seconds - before it hit them - literally hit them - that this was it.\n\nAnd I laughed. \n\nAnd that was what the end of humanity sounded like. A long silence and then a gasping laugh - desperate - clinging to the hope it wouldn't die on this rock.", "It was the 9th of March 2018. 11 years ago.\n\nNASA released applications to be one of the first men to go the Mars in 2020 to settle. I was one of them. I was 28 with a Masters in Physics and Math and I decided to be an explorer to Mars.\n\n\"Adkins, Daniel. American citizen. Birth date 25th of July 1990. Masters Degree in Physics and Mathematics.\"\n\nI filed it and applied to it. A week later, they released the information through email. I was one of them. I was happy. My family, my friends, they think it's for nothing. Everyone on Earth does. Mars is inhospitable. It's a suicide mission.\n\nMe and five other individuals, two other men and three women, trained for two years. We spent a long time alone.\n\nThen the day finally came. 10th of August 2020. Launch day.\n\nWe were set to be launched in a new Astra-X rocket, super massive containing artificial habitats. When we were preparing to launch, we saw someone loading large barrels of some container. We shrugged it off and then twenty minutes later we launched. We spend seven months and twenty three days going to Mars. When we landed, we got to see Mars.\n\nIt was beautiful, with a sand-like surface, with scattered brown rocks everywhere with the sun shining with its orange light and the intriguing orange colored skies of Mars. It was freezing at night, but warm at day.\n\nThe date was Sol Jovis, 21th of Aquarius 7, or 3rd of September 2023.\n\nNASA called us early, at six o'clock, MTC time. It was quite early since the usual time was eight o'clock, MTC time.\n\nThe operators at NASA seem scared. They were in a panic.\n\nI still remember the operators' last word.\n\n\"Godspeed to you Martian explorers. Whatever you do don't look to the skies. We will all be looking at you from the stars.\"\n\nAfter that there was this odd frequency. I called to team to go outside.\n\nWe looked to the skies and it was clear even through the biodome.\n\nAn asteroid collided with Earth. We all gasped. After a moment of panic, I went to the storage room and I find the large containers. They all contain millions of fertilized human eggs. The team immediately used the device.\n\nAnd that takes us today. Sol Solis, 11th of Cancer 18. Humanity has risen again in our new home at the Martian biodomes. We now have a colony of thousands.\n\nHowever, we, the original explorers, still have one dying question. Did they knew? Did NASA knew that Earth, and all its inhabitants are going to die? And is that why they send us, to settle on Mars as our new home?", "There it was. My home. \nAlit with flames, I am lost - \ndrifting in the black void.* \n \nI look ahead, forward \nthe red pain looms. Waits. \nWhat is expected of me here? \n \nOutside, it's barren. \nCold, bright, and dazzling. Judging me. \nAlone, I must live. \n \nDays pass, and then weeks. \nSurrounded by this harsh red soil \nI weep for mankind. \n \nShe haunts me in dreams. \nHer blue skies, icy oceans of foam \nHumans were selfish. \n \nCurious to ponder - \nOnes species in past-tense. \nRed hate consumes me. \n \nTime flies here on Mars \nA month gone, isolated. \nWhat's there to live for? \n \nI should just give in. \nThe red pain has no mercy. \nHope is dead. Why wait? \n \nI draw my final breath \nsolemnly, for humanity's end. \nI open up the door. \n \nIn my mind, I recall \na wondrous land of blue and green \nweep for it's last child.\n\n\n", "My family thought I was insane and worried endlessly. My friends laughed and called me a Martian but then would quietly voice their concerns even as they congratulated me. The people I worked with wondered who would get my office at my going away party. Strangers would come up to me on the street and pat me on the back then proudly quote their favorite Star Trek, Firefly and Interstellar lines; they wished me well and shared their own desires to go into space some day.\n\nThey were all dead now. The Earth...gone. It was all broken matter drifting without gravity, without grass and oxygen. I would see none of those I loved nor any I liked, hated or didn't even care about either way, ever again. \n\nI am one of a small group of survivors. I was told to keep my actual education and knowledge secret until it was made obvious to us that secrecy was no longer necessary. I guess that time is now.\n\nThere are whispers, rumors, that there are other groups and other biospheres that are older, elsewhere on Mars. A few don't believe it and a couple have sunk into a near oblivious deep despair from which I don't know if they'll survive. We now all know about our true individual histories, so it seems.\n\nThere are three large, inbound space vessels approaching. None of us have been informed previously of these. Many people are ecstatically happy, some are wary, but we are all curious.", "I dont know why I took this stupid job. \nDont get me wrong, there was nothing left for me back on earth but crippling debt, two disappointed parents, and a beached whale of a girlfriend, but god damn, if I'd known what i was getting myself into...\nMom and pop were real proud when they found out their son was going to be an astronaut. They were less proud when people started chastising the entire crew for being suicidal maniacs. Thank god I dont have life insurance. \n\nIll admit, I was pretty excited at first as well. The representative from Space X came knocking on my stuido apartment's poor excuse for a door, all white teeth and quick chatter, spouting words like, \"hero\" and \"pioneer\", but all I really heard was \"ten million miles away from here\". I shook his hand, took the application, and filled it out on the spot. Two weeks later I got a confirmation note in the mail telling me to show up to the Space X outpost in Florida. Didn't even tell Beth, my by-now-for-sure-ex-girlfriend, where I was going. Didnt even pack a bag. Just took the car and left. \n\nWhen I got there I met some of the most impressive people I had ever seen. Most of them, like myself, had some sort of background in aeronautics, but every person had other skills that were their real specialites. The team captain was the squad leader of a navy seal team, as well as an olympic athlete. He was 5'9, bald, and built like a goddamn panther. The other members were all the same ilk: athletic, smart, Ivy League graduates. They glanced over me like I was the mission's new janitor. \n\nThankfully, I earned some respect when they learned my real role. In a team of ten, I was the botanist, and my role was vital: get something edible to grow on the red soil of mars, or everybody starves. \n\nAnd that brings us up to now, with me, in this greenhouse with a red sky above me, watering a fucking house fern with an Ace Hardware watering can. Cant say I haven't done my job though. I stalk over to the rows of tomatoes in grow boxes and poor some water over them. Ill be honest, i've always liked plants more than people. Plants are simple and follow a strict science, unlike people. Plants arent ever disappointed in you, or scowling at you. They're simply either alive or dead. Fruitful or sterile. Green or brown. Food or compost. I wish people could be more like plants. \n\nSuddenly, the greenhouse door bursts open and I see Jason, this skinny twig of a man, panting and holding the door frame for support. \n\n\"Emergency... meeting... in the lounge...\" he pants in between gulps of air. I walk over to the tool rack and carefully replace the watering can in its proper spot.\n\n\"I haven't finished watering,\" I tell him as I walk slowly over. \"You want us all to starve?\"\n\n\"What part... of emergency... dont you understand?\" \n\nI snort at him, and he turns tail and runs off to grab the rest of the crew. I seal the door behind myself and walk down the white hallway, glancing out the window to observe the barren landscape as I walk by. Its all so red. Its like people: it needs more plants. \n\nI finally reach a pair of foreboding doors lit up with blue LED strips. I punch in my keycode on the pin pad and the door opens with a hydraulic burst of air. I walk through and see the entire crew sitting in front of the holographic screen on the far wall, Jason in the corner heaving so hard Im wondering if he's going to throw up. The entire team is watching the screen, which shows a 2-D image of the entire solar system. The team captain, Jezebel, turns to me. \n\n\"Finally, we're all here,\" he says, his voice uncharacteristically shaking. \"Please, have a seat.\" I continue to stand behind the rest of the crew, my eye watching the screen intently.\n\n\"What's so important that we're going to risk starvation, Captain?\" I sneer. The rest of the squad shoots daggers at me and I can see some of them have tears in their eyes. I stare calmly back at them.\n\n\"We've... we've discovered something terrible. It seems that... well, look for yourself.\" Jezebel reaches over and touches several components on the screen, and it zooms in on the model solar system to reveal a giant picture of an asteroid, hurtling through space. I turn my head to the side. Jezebel completes several more motions, and the asteroid now has a line in front of it labeled \"Asteroid Course\". The screen zooms out and I can now see what has the whole crew so anxious. The line labeled \"Asteroid Course\" directly crosses through Earth. \n\n\"Now, this data isn't exact,\" Jezebal says, sounding as much as though trying to convince himself as the crowd before him. \"Our instruments make mistakes, its very possible this asteroid will completely miss-\"\n\n\"Estimated time of collision?\" I interrupt him. \n\n\"Excuse me?\" he replies, looking taken aback.\n\n\"Estimated. Time. Of. Collision?\" I say pointedly. \n\n\"A-a-ah, it's, i-it's,\" he stammers for a moment, before regaining his composure. \"Its set to pass by Earth any moment now. We have a live feed.\" He flicks the screen over again, and now its showing a live high-definition satellite feed of earth. \n\n\"Now, again, there is no reason to assume that our data is 100% accurate,\" he continues, but its almost as if the silence of the room drowns him out. On the screen you can see a small red dot in the horizon, no larger than a regular star. Then, it slowly grows larger and larger, until its the size of a dime, a quarter, then the moon. Someone whispers, \"no...\" \n\nThen it hits. An asteroid the size of the entire northern US rams into the Earth, and the mantle cracks and shudders before breaking apart entirely. The atmosphere ignites and a spectacular show of fire engulfs the entire planet. The satellite feed begins to cut in and out, and the last image before it goes dead is that of pieces of Earth floating out into space. There's a brief moment of complete silence, and then the room erupts into terrified screams. Even Jezebel falls down and begins to claw at his face like a desperate animal. People begin to run around, although Im not sure where to. Jason finally throws up into a trash recycler, which gives a cheerful \"ding\" and registers it as, \"bio-waste\".\n\n I turn away from the chaos and open the main door again, walking back down the hallway away from the sounds of chaos. I come to the greenhouse doors and enter my code and they slide open again. I stalk over to the rack and retrieve my watering can, returning to my calm, serene tomatoes. \n\n\"Yes,\" I think to myself, the sounds of panic echoing throughout the entire base and into the dead martian atmosphere. \"People need to be more like plants.\"", "My nose was pressed into the glass and my eyes were gleaming with disbelief. \n\nI felt like a kid peering through the window of a candy shop, but the confectioner wasn't making taffy or chocolates. No, he was setting the shop on fire.\n\nI scrubbed away the condensation that my breath left on the airlock window. I couldn't possibly see it happen from here. Not with the naked eye. \n\nI can use my imagination though. Mission Control spelled it out clearly enough with their last transmission. \n\n\"Inevitable collision with large mass. Planetary destruction imminent.\"\n\nIt already happened anyway. My crew mates took the easy way out after the news. I guess it was all too heavy for them.\n\nI won't receive any additional supplies. I can survive another 2 years on current stock, but it'll end there.\n\nI'm the last human alive. I'm the last human being to record my thoughts. I'm the last human being say or do anything. What could I possibly say?\n\nThis truly was a suicide mission. \n\nIt was nice knowing ya, Universe. \n\nSincerely,\n\nThe Human Race\n", "“You are humanity’s last hope.”\n\nI looked around the room, at all the gloomy faces turned expectantly in my direction.\n\nI couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke.\n\n“I… uh… I…”\n\n“You accept the mission, then?”\n\nLike hell I did.\n\nI took a deep breath and attempted to steady myself. A moment passed as I gathered my thoughts, and then I spoke.\n\n“No. I cannot. I refuse to accept your proposition.”\n\nThe man sitting at the head of the table sighed and placed his hand on the pile of papers in front of him.\n\n“We’ve done tests on all available personnel, Mr. Fischer. Your genes are the best of anyone’s here. No one is better suited for this mission… or rather… duty.” He made sure to stress the last word, and gave me a meaningful look as he said it.\n\nI scoffed. “It’s my duty, you say? My duty to abandon the Earth, to abandon all 7 billion people here? My duty to only save myself?”\n\nHis next words came without hesitation – I was taken aback by the certainty in his voice.\n\n“Yes. Yes it is. If you don’t take on this mission, you are dooming mankind for eternity. Whether you go or not, every man, woman, and child on this planet will die. But if you stay, you would be letting them die in vain. You would deny our entire species a future.”\n\nThe weight of the world on my shoulders. Literally. No, I couldn’t accept this.\n“There has to be some other way! Underground shelters, nuking the asteroid, colony ships, whatever – there has to be something!”\n\nHe slammed the table in exasperation.\n\n“No, Mr. Fischer, there isn’t. If there was any other way, we would have done it by now. If there was any other way, you would not be standing here today.\n\n“We’ve investigated every possible course of action, including the ones you mentioned. This asteroid – if we can even call it that – is larger than our moon. Destroying or diverting it is out of the question. Underground shelters would get obliterated along with the surface. We don’t have the resources to build ships for the entirety of the Earth's population, and we certainly do not want to risk a mass panic.”\n\nHe paused to gauge how I was reacting to all this.\n\n“Do you understand, Mr. Fischer?”\n\nI gulped.\n\n“Give me… give me some time to think about this. I… I need to talk this over with my family.”\n\nThere was a sharp intake of breath shared around the table. The Chairman folded his hands and bit his lip.\n\n“Well, you see, Mr. Fischer… We think it would be best if you didn’t do that. Your wife would not be the best choice for accompanying you on this mission. We have, uh, already chosen someone for that role.” \n\nDread consumed me. I felt my heart begin to race.\n\n“No…” I whispered.\n\n“I’m sorry. No one outside of this facility can be entrusted with this information, your family members included. Nothing will be made public until the final day. You can send them your farewells then.”\n\n“No!” I screamed. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t! \n\n“I won’t do this!” I was fuming now. “You’re simply asking too much of me! This is too much of burden for one man. I cannot sacrifice my family, not for anything!”\n\nThe Chairman nodded sadly. “I see. I’m sorry it had to come to this, Mr. Fischer. My hope is that, one day, you’ll understand.” He leaned back in his chair and looked over my shoulder.\n\nI slowly turned to follow his gaze.\n\n“Subdue him.”\n\nAnd with that, the world went black.\n\n \n__________\n\n \n“Eden, this is Houston. We’d like you to run another check on all systems, including the Genesis module. We want to confirm one last time that the embryos are doing well.”\n\nShe reached for the release on her restraint, but I placed my hand on her arm to stop her.\n\n“I’ll handle this.”\n\nShe smiled and settled back into her seat. “Alright then,” she whispered.\n\nI opened the latch and pushed myself forwards. From there, I gently kicked the wall of the ship and slowly floated to the back, where all our modules and provisions were held.\n\nReaching the computer, I grabbed on to the edge of the monitor and swung myself into position. After a few moments, I had the check up and running.\n\nOne green light after the other.\n\n“All systems green, Houston.”\n\n“I see. Thank you, Eden.”\n\nThe voice on the other end had noticeably softened. The asteroid must be closing in now.\n\nMy heart, already damaged countless times by this mission, found itself shattering once again.\n\nI closed my eyes and waited in silence.\n\nThis was the end.\n\nWhen the voice came again, I broke. The operator was crying.\n\n“Goodbye, Eden. This has been Houston. We wish you the best of luck.”\n\nI felt a tear run down my cheek.\n\n“Goodbye… Earth.”\n\n \n__________\n\n \n\nI placed my hands on the keyboard and typed:\n\nLog 0001 – August 31st, 2021\n\nI gently tapped the record button, and began to speak.\n\n“My name is Adam Fischer. My partner on this mission is Eva Blaskowitz. We have arrived on Mars – all is well. For future reference, this log marks the first night of the Eden Rebirth Project.”\n\nI paused and looked up at the Martian skies. Untainted by light pollution, the view of the stars here was absolutely breathtaking.\n\nI smiled a bittersweet smile.\n\nAnd I wept.\n\n__________\n\n[Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3jar2s/wp_you_are_one_of_the_people_sent_to_mars_in_2020/cuolhuf)\n", "It started off just like any other day, I guess. I woke up to the smell of bacon wafting through the halls as my wife made breakfast and the sound of the Martian Morning News coming from the television in the living room. A team of climbers had finally made it to the top of Olympus Mons. Took them months.\n\nI was in the shower when I heard my wife scream. I immediately jumped out of the shower and quickly threw on my shorts and ran out to the living room where I saw her on the floor, sobbing, and holding Emmy's head close against her chest.\n\nI asked her what was wrong. She looked at me through bloodshot eyes, her face red and twisted with pain and shock. Her mouth hung open and whenever she tried to speak, the only sound that escaped from her was a strangled wail. She looked at the television. I moved behind her, still dripping wet from my shower, and that's when I saw it.\n\nThe biggest fucking meteor I've ever seen slammed into Earth. It must have been the size of Phobos.\n\nI didn't believe what I was seeing. I couldn't. I kept trying to tell myself it was all a bad dream. That any second now, I would wake up.\n\nBut as the impact replayed on the TV over and over, it drove that feeling of dread deeper into me. I didn't want to believe it. But I had no choice.\n\nI remember dropping to my knees and wrapping my arms around my family. My wife grabbed my arm, kissed my hand, and buried her tear soaked face into my elbow. I kissed her on the back of her head.\n\nThen my daughter looked up at me and said \"Daddy, why is mommy crying?\".\n\nSee, my she didn't know what was going on. She was born on Mars. This was all she knew. She didn't understand that the vast majority of humanity had just been destroyed. 10 billion people wiped out in the blink of an eye. \n\n\"A lot of people that mommy and daddy knew just got hurt really bad\"\n\n\"Can't you kiss it and make it better? Like you do with me when I scraped my knee?\"\n\nI struggled for a second to find the words.\n\n\"Sometimes... sometimes honey... people get hurt... and they don't get better.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\nI remember we sat there for a while, I don't know how long, and just held each other.\n\nI think the worst part of all of it was the fact that I never had the chance to make my peace with my parents. I was part of the initial landing in 2020. My family hated me for it, saying that I was abandoning them. I tried convincing them that what I was doing was for the good of humanity, but they would have none of it, told me it was a fool's errand and a suicide mission. My brother told me they held a funeral for me the week before our launch and that mom and dad had written me off for dead. I tried sending them a few messages in the years shortly after landing, but they refused to read them. I'd be lying if I said i didn't harbor resentment about that for for a while.\n\nSometimes I still find myself going outside at night and looking out, trying to find that bright blue dot that I used to call home. But I always find that that meteor put a hole in more just the sky that day. It put a hole in my heart too." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 8, 11, 16, 19, 108, 109 ]	[ "1441179648", "1441187974", "1441199188", "1441199196", "1441169103", "1441179445", "1441192663", "1441188397", "1441192535", "1441162184", "1441166064", "1441166066", "1441162213", "1441165932", "1441161634" ]
	[WP] First day back at school from a fed up teachers point of view.	8	[ "Four o'clock comes quickly, much more quickly than he had hoped. Will had spent the majority of the night preparing for the first day. The students would do little more than basic tests to gauge where they were at the start of this year, but he liked to plan ahead. It was always good to be prepared. His wife slept soundly in bed, tucked deep in the covers that she took for herself. He hadn't been there to tussle with her over his three feet of sheets. Tiptoeing down the hall as he closed the bedroom door behind him, Will crept by his the bedrooms of his children and down the stairs. His doting wife had thoughtfully prepared his clothes ahead of time to save them both the early morning trouble and placed them outside the bathroom door.\n\nHurriedly, the groggy man showered and shaved, accidentally nicking himself in the process. With a small tissue square placed firmly on the offending spot near his chin, Will dressed and walked into the kitchen. The clock showed ten til five, a time that baffled the careful teacher. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and set it down next to the coffee pot only to find that he had forgotten to start it when he passed by. Frustrated and stressed, he grabbed his briefcase that waited near the door closing the door behind him with a slightly more forceful slam that he had meant to. Before his family woke to throw something out the window at the man, he quickly pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the school.\n\nSix o'clock comes to pass as he enters the lounge. Equally tired, frustrated, and stressed teachers gather around the table in their small room. New faces stand out among the old. Their bright, wide eyes containing fear and excitement as though they might lift off from their seat at any moment. He pitied them. These children were hardly children anymore. They were monsters. Their approach was signaled by loud alarms that rang throughout the building, piercing his eardrums as he sipped his scalding coffee. The dark, horrible tasting brew threatening to spill upon his shirt. He learned to tuck a handkerchief firmly under his collar around the third year. The first few days were always the worst on the nerves.\n\nA stampede of these cretins proceeded down the hallways. They spoke loudly, boisterously, over the alarm. Their combined noise was almost deafening. Will found that his hearing suffered a little more each year. The herd split into factions, each fighting amongst themselves over differing ideals. Less adjusted teachers stepped outside the safety of their classroom into enemy territory, demanding that they calm down. A bold move. They are quickly stripped of their authority and pride by the sharp fangs of the young ones. Their venomous bite breaks the skin and seeps into the soul. There is no antivenom for this bite and no resistance that one can build. Even for someone with over two decades under his belt, it still stings. He had a bar of chocolate in his bag for occasions like that. Will made a mental note on an already full board to share some during lunch. There was no doubt in his mind that it'd be appreciated.\n\nEight o'clock rang in as the students dragged themselves through the doorway. Their sneakers and heels like claws scraping against the floor. He was unfazed by this. It was the same every year, in fact, he often felt the same himself. With reluctance, he picked up a dry erase marker and scrawled his name upon the board in large letters that were impossible to misread. Clearing his throat, he addressed the class in his clearest, loudest, and most authoritative tone.\n\n“Greeting class, as you may have noticed, I am Mr. Merrick and today we're going to begin a course on American History. If you would, please look through the papers on your desk. I'll be expecting them by the bell. You have twenty minutes. Good luck,” he said before sitting back down at his desk and sipping coffee while thumbing through an old newspaper.\n\n-245", "O god, here we go for another year with these rabid assholes and their god damn fucking inbred parents who think their progeny is fucking gifted when the truth is he couldn't find his ass with a road map. AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THE ADMINISTRATION!\n\nMy smallest class is 26 and my largest is 32. How the hell am I supposed to teach writing skills to 32 spoiled narcissistic shit heads who don't give a rat's ass about anything that is not themselves??? I'm sick of reading their drivel. I'm tired of them stinking up my classroom. They make more noise than an airbus. If I make it 'til Thanksgiving without killing one of them, it'll be a miracle. O god, where's the porto??? I need a drink!", "7:00 am\nI sit here in the morning sun, staring across the asphalt at It. The monster that, yet again, will try to devour my soul. That has devoured countless of my cohorts. There they go. You can recognize them by their shuffling gate. The way that they don't seem to really notice anything around them. They have given up. They've cut whatever ties they had held to their minds from before. Before the standards changed for the third time in four years. Before woodshop, band, home ec, and computer science were combined into one class. Before they said we could 'make do' with 20 desks per classroom, when the average class is 25. They're the lucky ones. They have stopped resisting. I can't, though. I won't. Not this year. Joseph Pants High School will not break me. Oh no. I will break it.\n\n3:15pm\nFuck this school. Fuck these kids. I need a beer.", "The leaves are beginning to change and the air is getting cooler. Gray clouds fill the sky and the air is breezy. People are looking forward to wearing scarves and carving pumpkins and sipping hot chocolate. Except me, fuck fall. This is absolutely the worst time of the year. I will be surrounded by spoiled little asshole and even more annoying parents. \n\nI entered the classroom and sat down at my desk. As I took supplies out of my bag the bell sounded, students entered the classroom. My head was pounding and my stomach was churning, perhaps last call was a bad idea. Placing my palm up to my face, I checked my breath. Wintergreen chewing gum is my hero of the day. \n\nAfter all the desks were filled I approached the whiteboard and scribbled my name. Sure, that looks legible to me. Slinking back into my chair, my words were still slightly slurred as I introduced myself to the class. Damn, what is wrong with some of these parents? Roll call is the worst. So many horrible names, so many misspelled names. I squinted as I tried to read the names, half of which sounded like horribly pronounced questions.\n\nThe day dragged on, period after period I anticipated the three o'clock bell. Finally, it rang. As soon as these little shits file out, I can get the fuck out of here. \n\nToo many days stand in between me and next summer." ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 2 ]	[ "1441252875", "1441223434", "1441227118", "1441233245" ]
	[WP] Wizardry is as common and as professional as businessmen in todays society. write about every day life	6	[ "What a lot of people don't realize is the amount of paperwork that goes into magic.\n\nThey want a show - they want sparklers and lights and wind sweeping through the room on its way to bringing them stacks of cash. They want the love of their life in the palm of their hands with hearts floating up and if it's no hearts it's no go. Money back - which is, of course, more paperwork.\n\nI swear - the tiny shop I run under the Red Line station on State Street is 90% files in the back office. The front 10% is full of way too much carpets, fake ravens, top hats - the whole kit and kaboodle. People pay for the ambience - that's what my marketing professor taught me. Well - at least the carpets help with the cold in the winter. Giant windows have a way of letting things seep through.\n\nThe bureaucracy is a blessing and a curse. You have to have a knack for forms and paper (after all, magic has this weird effect on computers so it has to be totally analog) - and for magic. So there's never that much competition. Craig runs a shop in Hyde Park and Derrick Enoch runs the spot for Evanston but I'm the only downtown guy around. The bad news is that it turns away a lot of the potential customers who might have asked for a new car or death or something if they didn't have to fill out 2 forms in triplicate acknowledging violation of the laws of the Universe, 3 forms of identification, 1 NDA (can't have any unlicensed Wizards trying to act out what they learned watching me revive a dog that met the wrong end of a tractor trailer) - not to mention forms for each step in the spell.\n\nAll that is to say, by the time I get to the office, there's still a line all the way to Garrett's. Sometimes people will bring me popcorn - the regulars do. I like them. They're nice folks. Not all of them are good, but damned if they don't try. Sometimes it's just hard. You need a helping hand or wand or spell or something. \n\nLike this guy, Jerry - window washer at the Tribune. It's this incredibly old building and one of the rigs wasn't properly secured so this giant piece of stone flew down - knocked his head clear off.\n\nSo every couple of weeks he's back to get touch-ups and revivals. Plus he needs this potion to keep him from going full Zombie on us (and lord knows we don't need another plague like in 2011 - it was awful - having to un-reanimate them in the middle of the blizzard). I mean the potion is a bitch to make - and so many steps and so many ingredients and it costs an arm and a leg - arm figurative, leg literal. But he brings me popcorn so it's pretty worth it.\n\nAfter all, it's nigh impossible to get out of the office. I mean the poor secretary - I can't even keep them straight since they keep quitting on me - works herself to death. I think this one is Julie? I'm not really sure. But she gets frazzled so easily. Usually the people who come to me are desperate so they can't deal with someone not on their A Game and that's rarely any of the secretaries. One gave me a sandwich stuffed with Newt Fingers in it. Wasn't the worst thing I've had but definitely did not sit well for a few days. \n\nStill - they're sweet and they try ever so hard. And every now and then - in spite of the paperwork - and the disappointment - and the long hours - and the irate people - you get something really great. \n\nYou find someone who came to you - too shy to ask someone out - and all they need is a little boost of confidence - and they come back a few weeks later, holding someone else's hand.\n\nOr the baby who takes their first step on their new leg.\n\nOr the girl who lost her mother too soon - who gets to see her again on her wedding day.\n\nThose moments - that's what makes being a wizard magical.", "The front door to Wizrow's Wands opened with a ring as Wizrow looked up from his desk with his best customer service smile and said, \"Welcome to Wizrow's Wands, where if there isn't a way there's a wa--\"\n\n\n\"Can it, Wizrow!\" he was cut off with as a man stormed into the shop waving around a piece of paper.\nWizrow braced himself for the worst and made sure his security wand was still under the desk as the piece of paper the young man had was slammed on top of his desk.\n\n\n\"Do you know what this is?\" He asked, clearly ready to cut him off again, but Wizrow answered.\n\"Paper by the looks of it. Were you looking to have it transfor--\"\n\"I meant what's on it!\"\n\nWizrow looked down, barely able to make out any of the words past a bundle of irate fingers. \"Well right now it's your hand, and I'm afraid I can't do any magic on flesh as you can see by the sign outsid--\"\n\n\n\"Don't you get smart with me! Read it!\" This time he took his hand away, and Wizrow got a look at the upside down sheet. He squinted at it for a moment before tapping the paper at its edge, making the words flip so he could actually understand it. After looking over it for a second it looked like it was a sheet of prices and recommendations with the names of other neighboring magic shops.\n\n\"The prices of the competition? I'm not sure what you want me to do with this.\"\n\"It's called price matching, duh.\" he explained before holding up a wand, \"I bought this from you last week and Archibald's Arcanes has it for fifty dollars less!\"\n\n\n\"That sounds like a pretty good deal!\" Wizrow wrote this down for later reference.\n\"It is, so I want my money back from you so I can go buy it.\"\n\"Ah I'm sorry,\" Wizrow still had his smile up as he waved a hand, \"here at the shop we only produce refunds on transformed livestock, furniture, and toiletry with proof of a receipt. But if you want you could trade in the wand for a percentage back.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure you heard me when I said 'price matching' did you?\" He tapped the paper on the desk again as if that would make the point any clearer.\n\"I heard you sir, this is why I explained our refund policy, you can also see it on the back of your receipt.\"\n\"Yeah well that's great but I went through all the trouble of price matching this!\"\n\n\n\"And I certainly appreciate your assistance in price comparisons, sir. Could I keep this paper?\"\nThe angry man quickly snatched it off the desk. \"No, it's my paper! And I've got half a mind to break your stupid wand!\"\n\n\"I'm afraid you can't trade it in if that's the case.\"\n\"Arrgh!\" He yelled, which was one of the first instances Wizrow had encountered where someone had actually done this. The man balled up his paper and tossed it on the shop floor, giving Wizrow a glare before storming out, wand in hand.\n\n\nWizrow waited a moment to see if he would return before pointing his own wand at the ball on the ground and slowly floating it over to his desk to unravel. \n\"Hm, I may have to see where Archibald gets his stock.\" ", "The wizened old man peered down his knobbly nose at the piece of paper set on the only clear area on his desk. \"So, Madame Delacourte, I must admit, I am very impressed with your resume,\" he said, fingers combing his long beard. He stopped as he discovered a small mouse that had become trapped in the long white hair at some point, and carefully untangled the small creature without looking away from the young woman sitting across from him.\n\n\"Thank you, sir,\" said the stocky young woman. She wearing a dress suit that slowly shifted colors, with buttons that glowed like small stars.\n\n\"Tell me,\" said the old man as he finally freed the mouse from his beard. \"Why should Merlinex hire you? What sets you apart from other applicants?\"\n\nStacey Delacourte stayed smiling as Archibald Magnifus tossed the small mouse towards the cage in the corner of the room. As quick as lightning, a long tongue speared out from the toad-like creature sitting inside, and the mouse vanished. The toad-thing let out a satisfied belch. \"Well, as you can see from my resume, I graduated from Harvard magna cum laude with a degree in arcane sciences, and I spent a few years after graduation apprenticing to freelance sorcerers, and I can produce a recommendation letter from Madame Le Fay, Master Crowley, and Master Gates, if necessary. I've also volunteered with People for the Ethical Treatment of Dragons, the Centaur's Alliance, and spent six months learning herbalism from a Somali witchdoctor. I have experience with numerous arcane disciplines, and I believe that my wide breadth of knowledge will be a boon to Merlinex.\"\n\nArchibald Magnifus hummed in thought. \"Where do you see yourself in five years?\" he asked.\n\nStacey closed her eyes, and let out a slow breath. When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with a pure white light that forced Archibald to avert his eyes. Stacey's mouth moved in ways that the human mouth was not built for as she spoke in arcane tongues that shook the windows with their volume. Archibald's beard began to rise as if there was a static charge in the room, and he waited for her to finish her divination.\n\nAt last, the light faded, and Archibald's beard returned to its former position. \"I see myself asking that same question to a promising young wizard who wants the position that I'm interviewing for right now, sir,\" she reported.\n\n\"Very good,\" Archibald smiled. \"Welcome aboard.\"\n\n--\n\nCheck out my [blog](http://theballadsofirving.com)! It has words that I put in order to make them look like a story!", "My name is Merlin, and I hate my job.\n\nI hate the cramped cubicles. I hate my coworkers. I hate the poor excuse for coffee that they serve here. And I hate, above all else, the corporate bureaucracy.\n\nLet me tell you a quick story, to help you understand that last bit.\n\nThis happened yesterday, by the way.\n\nSo I’m sitting at my desk, throwing ingredients into my cauldron. All is going well. I’m supposed to whip up a love potion, and demonstrate it at the meeting later today. It’s coming along nicely. Smells like fresh satin panties.\n\nBut Rogart, being the boogerface that he is, thinks it’d be funny to mess with me. So from the cubicle next to me, where he sits, he lobs a dried goat turd over the wall and straight into my cauldron.\n\nNow I’m already pretty pissed off at this point. But hold on – it only gets worse. Corporate bureaucracy, remember?\n\nAnyways.\n\nMagical ingredients are really fickle. You put in the wrong amount of anything, and things can go real bad, real fast. Recall that Rogart threw in a goat turd, something that wasn’t even on the list of ingredients to begin with.\n\nNeedless to say, the result is catastrophic. My cauldron explodes in my face, and my desk is blown to pieces. The walls of the cubicle are fine because they’ve been enchanted to withstand stuff like this.\n\nSo there I am, lying on the ground, ribs broken and legs folded flat under me. And blood, my blood, is everywhere.\n\nAlarm goes off since someone on the floor reported an explosion. Less than a minute later, someone from the Emergency Response Team arrives on the scene.\n\nNow get this. Instead of showing any concern for me, the guy who’s lying on the floor, dying, the dude goes, “Oh my God! There’s so much blood anywhere. This is so totally a health hazard. Gotta get someone from Sanitation, stat!”\n\nI manage to stretch my arm far enough to reach his leg, and I tug gently on the hem of his robe. He looks at me. “Sir… sir, I’m dying. Please, help me…”\n\nHe shakes his head. “Oh, I’m sorry sir. I can’t help you with that, you’ll need to get someone down from the Medical Department. Separation of duties, ya know? Can’t have one person doing – or even knowing how to do – everything, or you risk a rogue ruining it for everyone.”\n\nYou’ve gotta be kidding me.\n\n“I’ll contact them for you, sir.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of parchment. The magical kind, the kind that worked just like those tablet thingies non-wizards use these days.\n\n“Uhhh let’s see… There’s a bit of a queue, so they won’t be able to get to you until about… two hours from now? Is that okay, sir?”\n\nNo. No, that's not okay, not okay at all.\n\n“Aaaaand look at the time. I need to be going now, got another call to get to. You can expect Sanitation to be here in a few. Have a great day, sir!” And with that, he leaves.\n\nI’m coughing up blood now. I look up. “Please…”\n\nSuddenly, a face appears and looms over me. It’s Perkins, who works a few rows over. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend in this company.\n\n“P-perkins,” I manage. “I’m dying. Please… help me…”\n\nHe adjusts his glasses and wipes his hands on his robe.\n\n“You’ll owe me donuts for this.”\n\nI nod feverishly. “Yes, yes, just… save me, please.”\n\nHe whips out his wand and waves it a couple of times. I feel the wounds patch up, the bones begin to mend. The pain starts to go away.\n\nAnd just like that, I’m fine.\n\nI get up and grab Perkins’s hand. “Thank you so much. Thank you so, so much.”\n\nHe smiles. “Remember. Donuts. Tomorrow.”\n\nI nod and he turns to leave. Out of nowhere, though, our manager appears.\n\nHe looks absolutely terrifying.\n\n“What is this?” he demands. “Usage of magic for something non-work related?” He holds out a finger and points it directly at Perkin’s face.\n\n“Perkins! You’re fired.”\n\nAnd just like that, Perkins was fired, for saving my life.\n\n...\n\nAnyways, I’m sitting at my desk again now, and I’ve gotten a new cauldron. At least the Operations Management in this company is legit. That being said, the cauldron isn’t working, and I’ve unplugged it for now. Called the Potion Technology guys, they’ll be here at any moment now.\n\n“Good afternoon, Mr. Merlin. I’m Tiribas from PT. You said your new cauldron isn’t working properly?”\n\n“Yeah. It was all set up and ready to go when I got here. But when I flipped the switch, nothing happened. So now you’re here.”\n\n“I see.”\n\nHe’s going over to the cauldron now, and is about to turn it on.\n\n“Oh yeah, by the way. I unplugged it after I flipped the power back off, just to be safe.”\n\nHe’s pausing. Why is he pausing?\n\nWait. Don’t tell me…\n\n“Well, you gotta get a guy from Utilities down here to plug it in, then. I can’t touch anything that’s not directly related to cauldrons.”\n\n“You can’t just like, look away for a moment while I plug it in?”\n\n“Nope, can’t. Sorry. I’ve already seen it.”\n\n“I shouldn’t have called you.” I glare at him.\n\n“If you say so, sir. I’m just following procedures.”\n\n“How long until someone from Utilities is available?”\n\nHe checks his magical parchment. “Two days,” he replies.\n\nRogart's leaning back in his chair, around the corner of the cubicle, and is laughing at me.\n\nAight.\n\nI’m done.\n\nI’m quitting this place tomorrow. \n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 3 ]	[ "1441237580", "1441241472", "1441236451", "1441234881" ]
	[WP] One day out of a blue, a message is broadcast on every form of electronic media from an unknown source. Everyone perceives it as their own language, but you're bilingual. And you're hearing two vastly different messages.	145	[ "\"Mr. President, I feel I should warn you-\"\n\n\"Please, be quiet! IS ANYONE RECORDING THIS?\"\n\nPresident James Relnson was a staunch, unfeeling Republican who spoke seriously, listened seriously, and never smiled in public. Knowing this, Kyoung-Min Jeong was understandably unnerved to watch him whistling around the room like a schoolchild. James poked the Secretary of Defense and slung his arm around her shoulder, but then wasted no time in crossing the stairs by threes on his way to the Oval Office. It was exhausting both to watch and to keep up.\n\nKyoung made a last ditch effort to cut off the President at the door to his office. He failed. President Relnson slammed the door behind him, and the translator was left in the hallway with two Secret Service agents.\n\n\"You got your ID?\"\n\nKyoung cursed in his native tongue. \"I must have left it in the conference room.\"\n\n\"Well, you're gonna have to go get it. Sorry.\"\n\n\"No, you don't understand. I need to speak with the President about this broadcast.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, get in line,\" said the second guard. \"Have you seen the crowd out past the lawn? I tell you, this is going to be a security nightmare.\"\n\n\"Ah, suck it up Bill.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen, please! This is extremely important!\"\n\n\"What's all the racket?\" The President had opened the door again. \"Ah! Mr. Jeong! We'll have to continue our talks with the South Korean President another time. Please give her my condolences when the communication lines open up-\"\n\n\"Sir, I need to speak with you about the broadcast!\"\n\nPresident Relnson fidgeted, eager to get back to his personal television. Kyoung vaguely took note that this was the first time he had seen the President do anything other than stay still or walk slowly. It gave him a headache, and the sound of the broadcast from every comms unit and cell phone in the building only made it worse.\n\n\"Sir, please let me come inside. This is urgent.\"\n\n\"Oh, alright!\" James clapped his hand on Kyoung's shoulder and pulled him in. \"Perhaps you could help me with my speech in a moment. What do you want?\"\n\nThe door closed behind them, and the translator took a deep breath. Then the President interrupted him.\n\n\"Alien life is here. And during MY administration!\" President Relnson shook his head and grinned. \"They said they're going to share their technology, their...\"\n\n\"Sir, that's not what they're saying!\" Kyoung was barely able to keep himself from yelling. His fists were clenched and pale at the knuckles.\n\n\"What? Can't you hear them?\" James pointed at the TV. \n\n\"You're hearing the aliens speak in English. I can hear them speak in English and in Korean.\"\n\n\"Fascinating!\"\n\n\"NO!\" The smile slipped from President Relnson's face. \"Listen to what they're saying now!\"\n\nKyoung turned to the TV. The English message had long since started from the beginning; a voice spoke calmly about sharing mutual knowledge and technology. The translator focused himself, and began to translate the other broadcast, which hadn't yet ended.\n\n\"The people of Nigeria shall not be spared. The people of Niue shall not be spared. The people of Norfolk Island will not be spared. The people of North Korea will be spared. The people of Northern Cyprus will not be spared. The people of the Northern Mariana Islands will not be spared. The people of Norway will not be spared...", "Looking back, I wish I wasn't the one of the people who pushed it, hadn't pointed it out, I could have saved so many lives.\n\nOn what came to known as judgement day, every man, woman, and child received a broadcast via electronic device telling them \"GOD IS GREAT, SHOW ME HUMANITIES FAITH\" before deleting itself.\n\nAt first, people thought this was a weird hack or glitch, social marketing data gone wrong, as the message was written in the language of the reader, no matter what language the device was set too, but then came the testimonials from people like me: Bilinguals.\n\nWe had an... experience. See, most people simply read it, but because we knew two languages, we not only did not see characters we recognized, but the feedback loop of reading it in two languages forced us to consume the intent of the message.\n\n I-its hard to describe, but as we heard \"god is great\" we... we 'saw' GOD, a being so utterly beyond description that no words are of use, as how does one describe a being that we strained to even perceive as a being, as \"being\" feels too weak and petty and powerless to ever come even within the same galaxy of definition. we were consumed and enveloped by his greatness... a couple of us I'm told didn't survive.\n\n\"Show me humanities faith\"...\n our interpretation of these words will likely never be forgotten until humanity eventually succumbs to it's own ignorance and wipes itself out in GOD's name. Those of us who listened knew immediately and without a doubt what GOD meant by these words; GOD wanted all the non-believers culled, all believers tempered to fanaticism by their cause not a soul in between.\n\nIn the oncoming weeks, the message had made it on to creepypasta pages and top 10 creepiest youtube videos, but slowly over the next couple months, people like me; bilinguals who had \"experienced\" the message, had joined together to generate what started as a cult.\n\n Now I didn't join the cult, but I DID defend their message. People would talk to me about the message and about the cult, most likely adding \"but you can read English and French, and you didn't have this experience, so it's debunked, right?\" to which I would have to reply with the truth.\n\nIt started out with just friends and family, but slowly moved into news sites and politicians as the cult pushed further and further and people slowly realized that there were no bilinguals who didn't 'receive' this message, as after one has perceived GODS greatness, it becomes nigh impossible to deny it, and then as it became generally accepted as word of god, slowly, quietly, patiently, the culling began.\n\nIt started with the murderers.\n\nMysterious individuals who just quietly dispatched atheists until it became extremely dangerous to even claim the title. Then news sites quietly went from talking about the horribleness of the murders to the absurdity of the victims belief.\n\n After about a year of this, the remainders quietly attempted to meld themselves into the society of believers, and it was there that they discovered the murderers had all banded together to form a terrifying hybrid of the KKK and Inquisition. Nowadays, it's assumed that \"Athiesm is dead\", and the zealots have started turning their gaze to the zealots of \"other gods\". It's started looking like within the year nukes are going to fly.\n\nI'm sorry...\n\nI'm so sorry...", "When the day came of which the message spoke the world collectively held her breath.\n\nDespite ample warnings most countries had failed to prepare correctly. Casualties rose into the billions.\n\nWhen the smoke cleared all across the USA survivors broke free from the rubble. They alone through their massive monolinguism had managed to stay the course, sending the few who rambled about other messages to asylums.\n\nIn the end the star spangled banner was the only flag to proudly wave on an otherwise ruined Earth.\n\nBut that's only because dolphins don't have a flag", "I didn't have my phone with me at first. It was odd, I was almost always glued to that thing. Instead I was lounging about eating some chips. University was out and I wanted some relaxation before spending all night working on my feet. If it wasn't for the interruption I may have dozed off and been late to my job. Though I wonder if that would have been better. \n\nThe screen flicked to a simple blue. A low buzz nestled into my ear. I sat up with a look of bewilderment. A small noise escaped my mouth but I really have no idea what I was trying to say. Words started scrolling across the screen accompanied by a voice. It was hoarse and dry. Whoever was talking was having trouble, not with the language but just speaking. It was like they had been stranded in the desert, parched and hoarse. To top it all of there was some weird filter and a reverb. Something must have gone wrong with the broadcast. I was too busy wondering what was wrong that I didn't even listen to the message. It cycled to what I assume was Mandarin and then onto German. It kept cycling through more languages until it came to Spanish. I grew up with a Mexican mother and father. They made sure I could speak English and Spanish. \n\n\"¿Cuando sale el sol, que entre ustedes se viven? Todo el mundo está contra ti. Tiempo se detiene.\" I turned my head in confusement. It was such a strange thing, what could that have to do with anything. Was the TV on the fritz? \n\"When the Sun goes out, who among you will live? Everyone is against you. Time is ticking.\" I repeated aloud. I couldn't figure it out. I patted my pockets for me phone. \"Oh right it's in my room.\" I got up from the couch and opened my bedroom door just as I heard the missed call tone. The screen faded to black as I picked it up and with a swipe roared back to life. '1 missed call. 1 new video' The call was from my friend John but there was no number attached to the video. As I started the playback the same blue screen appeared. This time I listened to the English part. \"Be calm, if you react they will kill you. The sun is setting.\" \n\"What the hell?\" It was getting weirder and weirder. I quickly redialed John. It didn't ring twice before he picked up. \n\"You're seeing this right?\" He said. There was coldness in his voice and he was nervous. I don't think I ever heard him nervous before. \n\"Yeah what's going on with that weird message? Did you send it to me?\" I asked. For a second I thought he hung up. There was just silence on his end. \n\"Cam, look the fuck outside, what do you see?\" I peeked out my bedroom window. Clouds were swirling like a tornado overhead. There were multiple funnels and storm cells. I couldn't remember seeing a cloud while I was at school. \n\"What the hell is going on?\" I asked again as I walked back into my front room. \n\"Did you see the message in Spanish? What did it say?\" He was more nervous with each second passing. It was contagious. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up and I felt like something was creeping up on me. \n\"When the Sun goes out, who among you will live? Everyone is against you. Time is ticking. That's what it said in Spanish.\" Fuck is all he replied. \n\nI pulled the blinds up on my front window. People were in the streets going nuts. The funnels continued to swirl above. Wind whipped through the trees. I was convinced any second the tornadoes would touch down. Instead they vanished in an instant. A black shape pierced the clouds. There were hundreds. \"It says there will be blood if you can not atone in German. In Portuguese it says, 'Those who are not worthy deserve their fate. Prove yourself worthy.'\" John said. I choked out another noise. \n\"You speak french too right?\" I asked preparing for another creepy and cryptic message. \n\"The first to perish have no place. The last shall be reborn.\" He said. \n\"John what the fuck is happening?\" I said still looking at the chaos outside. The black objects started emitting a red light from the center. \n\"I don't know but there was just Sumerian on the screen Cam.\" His voiced trailed off. Studying ancient languages was a hobby for John but he was never the best at getting around to understanding them. \n\"Could you read it?\" \n\"Enough...\" He said through tears. \"I got 'God is reaping. You failed.'\"\n", "Grant sat at his desk, staring at his computer monitor. He started clicking around the screen, then hitting some buttons on his keyboard, but the message that had popped up on his screen would not go away. \n\nHis phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it as he used the phone on his desk to call the IT department. It took a few minutes before he got through, but as long as his computer was locked up he couldn't do anything anyways. \n\n\"Hey, IT, if it's about a message popping up on your screen that you can't get rid of it, we're working on it.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Grant replied, slightly taken aback by the sudden answer, \"That's exactly why I'm calling.\" \n\n\"Yeah, everyone's having it. Check your cell, I bet the same message is on there, too.\" \n\nGrant pulled out his phone, and saw the message on the tiny screen.\n\n\"How did you know that?\" Grant asked, trying but failing to mask his amazement.\n\n\"I said everyone's having it. When I said everyone, I mean everyone. It's not just here, not just in this city. It's all across the world, in all languages.\" \n\n\"In all languages? Mine's only in two, English and Spanish...\"\n\n\"What? Yours is in two languages? Everyone else I've talked to only has it in English. Other places are only showing it in one language, it's just translated. ...are you bilingual?\" \n\n\"Yeah, fairly. I spent a few years in Spain, so I picked up a lot.\"\n\n\"So is the second part the same thing? Just repeated? Or is it some kind of special message for bilingual people?\" \n\nGrant looked at his monitor again, and translated the second half in his head. It had been a while, and he wasn't 100% sure he had it right, but it definitely wasn't the same message. \n\n\"Well,\" Grant said after translating, \"They're definitely different...\"\n\n\"So what do they say?\"\n\nGrant looked once more at his monitor.\n\n>IS YOUR REFRIGERATOR RUNNING?\n\nAnd below that (translated from Spanish):\n\n>THANKS FOR THE JOKE IDEAS, JUST PLAY ALONG. -KING FELIPE VI", "Mankind was doomed from the start. Doomed to die. Each of us walked the streets with a clock ticking down, its proverbial clicking waiting to sweep us into its dark swells of nothingness. It was the cornerstone to our motivation. It removed the vile and martyred the hopeful. I used to be like you, wishing that I knew when my clock might stop ticking so that I might live my life to its fullest. So that I may understand how much time is remaining, and act accordingly. Check every mark off my bucket list before it’s too late. \n \nBut I was wrong. Horribly, wrong. Our illusions of immortality were what kept society moving. It kept people rational, logical. When faced with the fact of death, no matter how painless or strung out, people seem to change. Something in them is different, they are tainted forever to the core. They wallow in their own helplessness, in the inevitability of life. Or they do something else. They go mad. Insane. Something inside them completely snaps because of this new found knowledge of inevitable pestilence. Their sense of humanity ruptures like a heart pierced by a dark bullet, and they react selfishly out of fear. It takes hold, strangles them. Contorting any sense of reasonability they might have had. \n \nThat is what was blared through the devices that day. The clock, ticking down with each passing moment. For the world to hear. Each individual capable of knowing when they would die, and how they would die. It repeated, it continues to repeat. Forever repeating. It’s been three years, and I’m still here. But I doubt there are others. It wasn’t the messages that destroyed us; we destroyed us.\nI was with my mother when it happened. She, a very traditional woman of Chinese descent, scoffed at the blaring. She assured me it was just some pranksters or a drill by the government. She assured me no nation in the modern world was dumb enough to attempt an attack on a country as powerful as ours. I was confused and afraid back then, when it happened. My ears filling with contradicting messages. \n \n“ALERT! ALERT! AMERICAN NUCLEAR THREAT IMMINENT IN YOUR AREA! ALERT! ALERT! EVACUATE NOW!” Screamed out of the phones and television. It (And Still does) sent chills through my body as it repeated over and over. \n \nBut there was something else, something I could barely understand, but undoubtedly there. I took English classes during school, and though I wasn’t the best student, it was enough to allow me to understand. \n \n“ALERT! ALERT! CHINESE NUCLEAR THREAT IMMENENT IN YOUR AREA! ALERT! ALERT! EVACUATE NOW!” \n \nI didn’t understand. I was hearing two very distinct messages in two different languages. It was as though the words were in both Chinese and English. I told my mother, but she refused to believe me and said it would all blow over. She may have saved my life, not listening to the messages was the only way I have survived this long. \n \nAs you can imagine, the message(s) created mass hysteria. The message(s) seemed to trump all broadcasts and connections. Nothing with a speaker or a screen worked anymore. Instead it was replaced by the constant repeating message(s). It doesn’t matter whether the piece of technology is powered on or not, the message is still broadcast through it. I watched from my small apartment in Hong Kong as millions attempted to evacuate in a situation where no authority could make a statement. The message(s) are so loud, they consumed the city that night and still do to this day. \n \nNot knowing what to do, they attacked. Nations launched their war heads. What else where they supposed to do? This curse spun the world into confusion, it prevented all communication between nations. When pushed into a corner, any animal will fight till its last breath. It will do whatever is required to survive. The governments of the world had plans for situations like this, they already had everything mapped out a millions time over. Communication or not, destroying the world? Easy. They just needed a reason, and now they had one. I can only assume they targeted their largest threats and went down the list until they either ran out of missiles or had no more land mass to fire upon. I was lucky enough to be living in Hong Kong, a city that was liked by many countries and therefore sparing it from direct nuking, but not from the effects. I watched as the bombs dropped. I could hear and see their massive explosions lighting up the coast line like mini-holocausts striking the world with flashes of death. I will undoubtedly die of cancer soon, just as so many others before me have.\nAfter the first explosion was visible, my mother began to take things more seriously. She rushed me into the basement of the large apartment building we lived in. There were others, they appeared just as terrified as us. Most of the people in my apartment complex had already left when the message(s) first played. \n \nThey all died. Shortly after the bombs were dropped sores began forming all over everyone’s bodies, covering even their faces. It was disgusting. The screams of pain and terror caused by the tumors and sores still haunt me to this day. It is the only sound I have encountered thus far that has drowned out the message(s). My mother, being very old, was one of the first to go. I could barely understand the pain of losing my mother, not to mention the world. \n \nPeople went mad. They ran into the streets and attacked without mercy. They were covered in sores, tumors, doomed to die and they knew it. Rape, murder, torture. I saw it all in these past three years. But these man made monsters slowly disappeared just as they were destined to. I have survived only by hiding, always hiding. \n \nThe lights appear to be increasing with each passing month. I have given up counting their numbers; they are more numerous now than the many stars that once lit up the brilliant dark sky. I don’t know why I am writing in this journal anymore. I will be dead soon, my sores from the bombs are getting fatal, I can tell. There is a tumor growing between my eyes, it will push me into darkness. I will be left in this city of corpses alone. My only friend will be the repeating, echoing, message(s), spewing fatal lies still to this day. I hope to die before that happens. \n \n", "\"Zulak!\"\n\nThe boss kicked the door open. Literally.\n\nThink about this – this is a government agency. Kicking a door open in any working environment is a big deal, let \nalone at the ICI. Things were not going well.\n\n\"Yes, sir?\" Zulak replied, getting up and straightening his back like a soldier ready for an order.\n\n\"Bilinguals, Zulak! Bilinguals! You ever heard of them!?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" Zulak responded, trying not to let his sweat and shaking give away how nervous the boss made him. \"Are they from the Milky Wa –\"\n\n\"They are humans who speak more than one language!\" the boss yelled. Everyone was up around the office – \nseven thousand pairs of eyes on Zulak.\n\n(Author's note – Zulak is an Adonian, a species from the Sombrero Galaxy Dust Lane which actually has five \nhundred eyes, so that ICI room is not as crowded as it seems. Still. Moving on.)\n\n\"Sir, I know humans speak more than one language,\" Zulak tried, his voice shaking on every word. \"That was what \nwas in the root of my plan. We sent them me –\"\n\n\"Individual humans who speak more than one language,\" the boss replied. \"Forty fucking three percent of them.\"\n\nZulak's eyes went wide. \"Individuals? They learn more than one language? Why? Why would they –\"\n\n\"TO FUCK ME IN BOTH MY ASSHOLES, THAT'S WHY!\"\n\n(Author's note -- … well, you get it.)\n\n\"So they –\"\n\n\"Yes, they instantly realized that the messages were different according to each specific reader, because BLOODY\nHALF OF THEM READ TWO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MESSAGES.\"\n\n\"And they –\"\n\n\"—know we sent the messages to put them against each other and incite the civil war so we can attack them, which \nwas YOUR MOTHERFU –\"\n\nThe boss paused, taking a deep breath. He ran his hand through his head, getting himself together.\n\n\"Shit,\" Zulak said, falling back on his chair. He had just been appointed head Lead Military Adviser of the \nIntergalactic Center of Intelligence, and now –\n\n\"—you made the biggest mistake of your life,\" the boss completed his thoughts. \"This is going to cost you.\"\n\n\"My job?\" Zulak asked, nervous.\n\n\"Your life! All of our lives! The idiots are definitely going to strike us after this!\"\n\n Zulak paused, scrutinizing the boss' faces. Could he not know?\n\n\"Sir… humans haven't mastered interstellar travel yet.\"\n\nThe boss raised his eyes. \"What?\"\n\n\"Even if they know of our intentions, there's pretty much nothing they can do.\"\n\nThe boss' face lit up. \"Really?\"\n\n\"They've barely reached the furthest planet in their solar system,\" Zulak replied. \"And that was an unmanned mission.\"\n\nThe boss' expression softened, and he even managed a smile. \"Thank God. Oh, man. Still, Zulak,\" he said, \nturning a mean eye the adviser's way. \"Don't pull shit like that again. Do your research before you act, damn it.\"\n\n\"Absolutely, sir. I'm very sorry.\" Zulak got up again. \"Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Zulak said. \"Go get me some aspirin. And a drink.\"\n\nZulak lowered his head, and the boss left the office.\n\n________________________\n\nBack on Earth, fifty-seven percent of the population was rioting and burning cities, sure that they were being \nbullshitted by the forty-three percent saying their phone messages were saying different things according to who \nwas reading.\n\n(Author's note -- humans are a species from the Milky Way with two eyes, one asshole and crippling trust issues)\n\nThe president declared martial law.\n\n___________________\n\nThanks for reading! For more stories on aliens being stupid and other stuff, check out /r/psycho_alpaca =)" ]	[ 1, 2, 3, 8, 12, 19, 163 ]	[ "1441287471", "1441284389", "1441275436", "1441271693", "1441265368", "1441265135", "1441250127" ]
	[WP] Start writing a story, then part of the way through, add an elephant to it.	17	[ "I was sick of the waiting. Sitting on a plastic chair, the heat of Saigon dripping down my back and calf muscles, waiting for my goddamn mail. I was in a hotbox of chattering Vietnamese paper-shufflers who pretended not to notice me sitting in a corner beside the only window in the place.\n\nOutside the usual oriental hawkers, always yelling, always selling. God, I was sick of the waiting. I thought about the heavy-lidded girl I left in my bed under the squeaking bamboo fan, already on the highest speed at 8am in the morning. I had pulled on brown trousers and a white shirt, didn't shave, barely had time to pass last night's alcohol in the broken toilet. An early hightail only to be told I had to sit and wait for an ID check via telephone from the State Department. Two hours I've been here. Two hours of sticking to that goddamned plastic chair.\n\n\"Sir?\" At last! One of the dinks had come out, smiling, greasy. He handed me the battered manilla folder with one hand and an open palm with the other. I couldn't believe it: the little fuck face wanted to be tipped for keeping me there in that Siagon cesspool all morning.\n\nI bared my teeth at him, took my mail and walked out the door. Down the road was a nice little French cafe, open, breezy, and full of English-speaking correspondents drinking on the terrace. I sat down, ordered a lemonade and a whisky chaser from a smiling black-eyed hoochgirl, and opened my envelope. \n\nThere he was, in all his black and white glory. Damon Miller, prize prick and corrupt politician, in bed with Senator McGowan's wife. It was him alright. The elephant tattoo on his left buttock was particularly visible in the photograph, a reminder of his time in African shooting the natives and their pets. McGowan's wife was spread-eagled in a fit of ecstasy, a look, no doubt, her ageing husband never inspired in her. \n\nShit. I was holding the future of this asshole war in my hands. Get Miller by the balls and a way to get to the president's ear was also on the cards. I placed the photograph face down on the tablecloth. I didn't want that smiling Vietnamese waitress to think I was an American fiend of the sexual variety when she came back with my drinks. I was starting to cool down out on the boulevard sidewalk. A breeze had picked up and a convey of drab green was making its way through the bands of motorbikes and bicycles, all fighting their way to equally loud and busy destinations.\n\nI heard a couple of wet classes clink down on the table and turned to a smiling girl, hair loosened and pretty around her face. She wore a light pink tunic and lipstick on her mouth. I was just beginning to ask her to stay for a drink when I was pushed forward in my chair. I turned my head just in time to see a small brown hand reach over the terrace and take my photograph with the manilla envelope under it. Before I could even stand up he was gone into the throng pushed to the side of the road by that fucking military convoy. I got a good look at his face though: that little fuck face public servant I didn't tip from the mail place. Didn't the shit stain know I knew where he worked?", "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away: there lived a young princess who loved to talk with animals and sing songs all day. She was a beautiful girl with long curly blond hair, and eyes that sparkled like blue diamonds. She could often be seen in her gorgeous pink dress, playing in the forest and talking with birds and squirrels.\n\nOne day, while she was sitting by the pond next to the flowering meadow, an old witch came by and saw her. She saw the young princess talking with the animals and consorting with bunnies. \n\n\"How great it would be to have her skills at my disposal!\" said the witch, and she began to walk closer. Suddenly she stopped short and wondered if she was acting too bold. She decided to plan her introduction first, so she hid behind a tree and rehearsed her first words.\n\nWhen she felt satisfied with her plan, she began her approach.\n\"My dear! How surprising it is to see you here!\"\n\nThe young princess turned to look at the sudden new voice; the small animals scurried away and hid behind the folds in her dress then hissed bravely.\n\n\"OH! No need to feel frightened!\" said the witch.\n\nSorry, this... can you please move this... HEY! I'm trying to read this story here! Thank you.\nuhh... oh!\n\"I wasn't frightened\" said the young princess, \"You just startled me, that's all\"\n\n\"Oh you are a dear aren't you?\" replied the witch.\nGod! can't you just keep this thing over there? This is the second time you let this animal over here and I think it should be the last. Thank you\n\n\"Sorry, my dear I...\"\nGet that fucking elephant out of here!... What? No I don't care if it is! Just take it out of here!... NO! Look, I'm trying to read to these kids and they don't need this.........? LOOK motherfucker! You got your time later, but this is my time! MY TIME!!!! MY TIME!!! All-right! Fine! You wanna play that!?!?!? Take some of this shit! Let's see how badass you are now motherfucker!" ]	[ 1, 9 ]	[ "1441276872", "1441260661" ]
	[WP] Sleep paralysis is defensive mechanism. They can't hurt you if you don't move.	109	[ "I still remember the very first time that I experienced sleep paralysis. It was shortly after my fourteenth birthday, almost ten years ago. I have to admit that I was scared out of my mind the first time it happened. I was startled awake as my brother returned home around midnight from his job. He never went out of his way to be quiet when I was sleeping and he loudly shut our bathroom door that was attached to the bedroom that we shared. The sudden noise in the silent night jarred me awake. \n\nMy eyes shot open and I went to yell at him for waking me, but I couldn’t speak. Quickly, I began to panic. I tried to sit up, but to no avail. My mind was racing and I could feel my body breaking out in an icy cold sweat. I cannot remember struggling to do something more than I did that night. It seemed like hours, but it was, more likely, less than a minute and I tried as hard as I could to move. \n\nMy only success was that I was able to blink my eyes. \nSuddenly, it all stopped. I bolted up and out of bed. I was drenched in sweat, shaking like a leaf, and scared out of my mind. All I could do was stand there staring down at my bed and try to wrap my mind around what the hell had just happened. Was I actually dreaming? Was I losing my mind? I practically jumped out of my skin when my brother flung open the bathroom door.\n\n“What are you doing up?” Jason asked.\n\n“Um, you…you woke me up, asshole.”\n\n“Whatever, go back to sleep.”\n\nI cautiously climbed back into bed and tried to make sense of what happened, but I wasn’t able to come to any conclusions that made any sense to me. After a while I was able to relax enough to fall back asleep and slept for the rest of the night with no other problems. \n\nThe next few days I kept replaying the whole thing in my mind, but it was pointless. I had convinced myself that it was some kind of dream or hallucination, even though that didn’t feel right. Eventually, it slipped further from my thoughts and I returned to my regular teenage life, not a care in the world. \n\nAbout seven months later it happened again. That second time, I wasn’t startled awake by anything that I could recognize. I was just suddenly awake and staring at the ceiling and unable to move again. I started to panic as I did the first time, but I tried desperately to calm myself and was somewhat successful. I was still scared and confused as to what the hell was happening to me. I knew that my brother wasn’t home, he was on a vacation with his friends at the time, but I could feel that someone was in the room with me. A feeling of dread washed over me and I tried as hard as I possibly could to turn my head toward my brother’s bed. The best I could do was roll my eyes to the side, but it wasn’t far enough to see anything. A few long moments later I snapped out of it again and shot a look over to the other side of the room.\n\nI was alone. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone, though.\n\nThese events began to happen more often, the next time it was just a few months later and shortly after that it happened again. It began happening at least once or twice a month during my fifteenth year. The only thing that changed, besides that growing frequency of occurrences, was the feeling of dread and that I was not alone kept gradually growing. It got to the point that I could swear that I could feel someone breathing on the side of my head. Before the sleep paralysis episodes started, I was always a back sleeper. I always had a hard time falling asleep on my side or stomach, but, with the intensifying feeling that someone was beside my bed during the episodes, I started forcing myself to sleep on my side so that I was facing my brother’s bed. \n\nBoy do I wish that I hadn’t done that.\n\nFinally able to sleep soundly on my side after a couple weeks, I found myself frozen as my eyes shot open. I was immediately drowning in fear, despite not seeing anything. I could feel something terrible though. My brother was sound asleep in his bed and I was silently screaming for him to wake up and help me. In the middle of trying to get my pleas to escape my head and form into words my mind was stopped dead as I saw a hand reach up and grasp the edge of my bed. The hand was deathly gray, rotten flesh stretched over bony fingers. Small parts of the flesh was missing or hanging loose exposing the bone underneath. I had never been more afraid in my life and, despite what happened after this time, I still haven’t been. I seemed to not even be able to close my eyes this time and the owner of the dead hand came into view right after the hand appeared. The horrible sight came up over the edge of the bed and hovered over its grasping hand. The flesh on its face matched its hand, a deep gash across its right cheek hung down, exposing its cheek bone and black and jagged teeth. I was staring into empty black eye sockets that, even with a lack of actual eyes, were staring into my soul. The thing’s mouth began to widen and a soul wrenching screech began pouring out. As its jaws grew past any normal range of motion, I thought the sound was going to make my ears bleed and suddenly it was gone and I was free. \n\nI scrambled backwards until I was pressed tight against the wall and let out a scream of terror. My brother jumped awake and out of his bed.\n\n“What the fuck are you screaming about?”\n\n“There was something in the room, something coming towards me,” I managed to spit out.\n\n“You just had a nightmare, go back to bed and shut the hell up,” Jason yelled as he threw himself back onto his bed.\n\nNeedless to say, I didn’t sleep again that night or the next. I was so terrified, I knew it wasn’t just a nightmare. That thing was real and it wanted me. I don’t know what it wanted, but I knew it wouldn’t be good for me to let it get what it did want. Eventually, exhaustion got the best of me and I was forced to sleep.\n\nNothing happened. Nothing happened again for a few years.\n\nAfter I moved off to college they started happening again. The thing would appear in the room, but wasn’t ever as close as it was that first time. I had a feeling that it was biding its time and waiting for the right time. It got greedy before. Not again, it was patient and had all of the time in the world. There were times when I couldn’t see it, but could feel its presence. Sometimes it was crouched in the corner, sometimes sitting on my roommate’s bed. After many appearances, I began to expect it showing up, but the fear was always constant and growing. It went on like this throughout college and I was able to live a normal life outside of the events and to keep it hidden from everyone. \n\nI finished college and moved to a new city for my first job and managed to find a girlfriend for the first time in years. Things were going good. The occurrences were even getting further apart. Maybe it was all in my head and hallucinations. Was my happiness fixing them? I got my answer on the first night that my girlfriend, Claire, stayed over at my apartment.\n\nAfter a nice evening together, we fell asleep in my bed. At one point, while I was sound asleep, I was awoken by my girlfriend closing my bathroom door. Although, she was considerate, unlike my brother was, and she tried not to wake me, she failed. I opened my eyes to see the thing standing at the foot of my bed. I was frozen stiff as it stared down at me. I had not seen it move since its first appearance so, when it bent down and rested its dead hands on my bed I was extremely startled. I begged my body to work, to move away from the terror that was now crawling onto my bed and over my legs. I was desperately trying to kick my legs up to knock it away. \n\nIt paused when its hands were even with my waist. It was looking down deep in my eyes. Even though I was not a religious man, I was praying for God’s help. To this day I hope that what happened next wasn’t God’s version of an answer to my prayers. \n\nThe bathroom door began to open as my girlfriend was returning to bed. A narrow beam of light flashed on my face as she looked at me. She stopped dead in her tracks as she could sense my terror. I don’t know if she could see the thing, but it could definitely see her. It leapt off from my bed across the room and knocked her back into the bathroom and slamming the door shut at the same time. As soon as it jumped from the bed I wasn’t frozen any longer. \nIn the instant that it took the thing to knock Claire into the bathroom and slam the door shut, I was starting to fling myself out of bed after it, I shouted, “Claire!”\n\nAt the sound of my voice the thing turned back to me. Its jaws sprung open wider than I thought possible and it bellowed out the same shriek at a deafening level. I could feel my body going limp as I lost control just as the thing jumped from the door and landed on top of my falling body. The last thing I saw as the back of my head struck the floor was the things huge jaws closing in over my face.\n\nFrom what I have heard it has been almost a year since that night. All I can do now is hear and see. I can hear my family and other people, which I assume are doctors and nurses, judging by what they tell my family. I am trapped in a coma, that’s what the doctors said. I might as well be in a constant state of sleep paralysis because I cannot move a muscle, not even my eyelids anymore. Even with my eyelids closed I can still see one thing and one thing only. The thing is laying on my bed next to me. Its arms are wrapped around me and it is extremely slowly pulling our beings together and I can feel our souls merging. It is becoming me and I am becoming it…\n", "Perhaps it's my fault this all started. I've always been too curious for my own good. I would pick up a subject and obsess over it. Learn everything I could about it and then move onto the next thing. The truth is, there are some things you can't learn everything about; but I think I've got a few things figured out.\n\nI always had a fascination with dreams. They always were in the same catalog of settings, but with different stories. A mansion that once was host to a exhilarating game of paintball was painted over with dust and webs to become a lonely prison. No one else I knew dreamed like this; the same places over and over. So, I grew curious and my research led me onto tangent after tangent. Eventually I forgot what I was looking for and found something else.\n\nLucid dreaming. The ability to control one's own dreams. The ability to become a god in one's own mind. I tried a few different ways, but only had success with one. \n\nEach night as I lay to sleep I repeat to myself \"I am about to sleep,\" until I passed out. At first I would have the sensation that something was wrong as I dreamt. Eventually my mind would realize it's dreaming and that's the key to this. Once you know you're dreaming you either wake up, or gain complete control. I kept doing this every night until it seemed more natural to dream lucidly then dream normally.\n\nOf course I had to take it to the next step. If lucid dreaming was possible, then shouldn't some of those other dream related phenomena? I set out to test out how much our mind could actually do; I wanted to test out astral projection. Of course it never worked, but I was stupid enough to try. That's when she showed up.\n\nImagine waking up out of a dead sleep to complete consciousness, and then as you take in your surroundings only to notice her. The monster at the foot of the bed. Watching you. She want's to kill you, but can't or won't. You will die. You have to change this. You have to do something, but can't. As every fiber of your being screams out you lay stuck, staring at your own personal monster. For most they experience fear, but I was enraged. There was no thought, only hatred of the thing that hated me. It seemed like an eternity that we locked eyes. I could feel a million twitches of my muscles as I struggled to move. Then as quickly as it came, I was released and my body flung itself with all the pent up rage that had been held back. Blackness. \n\nThat was my mistake. You can't fight them. They need something from you, and they will keep coming. Relentless. Slowly you'll run out of energy to fight it, and it'll consume you.\n\nI imagined I was floating around my house that night. First dream I've ever had outside my normal catalog of settings. When I woke up I replayed it over and over. She scared me. I scared me. No control. I couldn't sleep right for a few days. Abandoned my experiments in astral projection. Abandoned my efforts in lucid dreaming, but it still happened accidentally; at this point I was programmed. \n\nEventually I settled my nerves. I got back into a normal sleep routine. Researched sleep paralysis and convinced my self this was a explainable scientific phenomena. Convinced myself that it was a trick of the mind... It wasn't.\n\nA few months later it happened again. I could only sit watching as my closet door slid open. When I was free from the spell I would spring up and slam the door shut, and flip on the lights. The door was open when I went to sleep. It had to be. That was the only thing that made sense.\n\nEvery night from then on this would happen. Every night until I started blockading the closet. She didn't like that. When I woke up I couldn't see her, but I have grown accustomed to her presence. The heavy weight of hate hung over me, and for the first time I truly feared it. It started innocently enough. A slight shiver of the bed; as if some one had bumped into it. Then it happened again, and again. Each time increasing with force. I realized what it was. I knew what she was doing. She was pulling the mattress from the frame. All I could do was lie there as the bed shook back and forth. And then it happened. All at once the mattress hit the floor and I was suddenly free. I flung up and flipped on the lights. The door was wide open. I don't leave the door open. Ever. I didn't sleep for three days after that. Fell asleep driving for a moment.\n\nFor the next couple of months I slept with the lights on. It helped at first. But she came back eventually. I can feel her presence everywhere now. It seems like every time I turn a corner she'll be there. I know what she wants... And I'm going to give it to her. I can't do this anymore.", "My twin sister was always terrified of the dark. For as long as I can remember my parents always had a hard time putting her to sleep. Each day, as the sun began to descend, she would pace nervously. Our parents dreaded this moment. It meant an uncontrollable baby, lack of sleep, frustration. \n\nI remember the office visits and how we were escorted out of one office because my dad began to scream at the doctor. I remember this clearly because of how angry he had become. My dad is the nicest man I know, but that day it was as if the world's entire hate filled inside him. I was to young to remember the conversation, only my dad angrily screaming to the doctor \"what do you mean there's nothing wrong with her\". I remember Charlotte holding my hand tight. I remember her eyes on the verge of tears and a face of guilt believing this was all her fault. My mom looking at her with even more guilt. There WAS something with Charlotte and our parents could do nothing about it. \n\nWhen we were six years old things were slightly better. For my parents. Charlotte learned to control her fear of the night. At least control her begging my parents not to let her fall asleep. My parents, finally, after years could finally sleep through the night. Charlotte still could not. She would run to my room after our goodnight's were said. She'd run into my bed and hold my hand tight begging me not to let her fall asleep. \"Evan. Please. Don't let me fall asleep\", she would whisper to me. \n\n\"Why Charlotte?\" I asked, scared.\n\n\"They come for me Evan. They want to take us away from mom and dad.\" She would tell me. \"I told them to leave you alone but they just giggle. Please Evan. No more giggles.\"\n\n\"Ok Charlotte. Let's play a game.\" I would tell her. But as much as I tried and fought to stay awake, I would fall asleep. I was terrified of every thing she told me. But I was her brother and even though I was six, I wanted to protect her, from what I didn't know. I never saw them. I never heard things. But the fear in her eyes made me believe she was in danger. But I could never stay awake.\n\nOne night when we turned ten, after playing outside on the last day of summer before returning to school, Charlotte was exhausted. She had gone two nights with no sleep. She hid it surprisingly well. But that night was the second worst night of my life. I finally realized why Charlotte always resisted sleeping. As usual Charlotte snuck into my room. This time I was determined to stay awake. I had made coffee and snuck it into my room. Never having coffee before, I was beyond wired. I told Charlotte that she could some sleep and I would stay up. She needed the rest. She believed me. She looked at me with care and love and finally, without worry. Ten minutes after dozing off, Charlotte began to jerk. I could see her trying to grab something. Her hands slowly turning into fists trying to fight an invisible force away. Tears were running down her eyes. \n\nI began to scream at her. \"Charlotte! Charlotte! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!\" I pulled her eye lids back and saw nothing but the white of her eyes. I pulled her hair. I dropped books. Nothing. The commotion awoke my parents who came running to the room.\n\n\"What is going on!?\" My dad screamed. All I could do was point at Charlotte. Her small frame till churning. Her eyes now full of tears. Whimpering. My mom began to scream. My dad yelling at my mom to call 911. The full chaos of that night, I began to get dizzy. The room was turning and I saw black.\n\nI awoke on my bed. My aunt and uncle with me. Confused, I began to call out for Charlotte. Charlotte is not with us anymore. No I don't believe you. She didn't wake up. What do you mean? Your parents are at the hospital. No, I want to see Charlotte.\n\nThat's all remember of Charlotte's last night. No one believed me when I told them what Charlotte was scared of. I grew up alone. I lost my best friend. \n\nUntil one night on my 21st birthday. Finally able to move on from Charlotte's death, I made friends and to celebrate my 21st we did what most new 21 year olds do: get wasted. And wasted I got. The last thing I remember was sitting on the couch about to make my drunk move on whatever random girl was sitting on my buddy's couch. \"Hey, what...\" I remember I managed saying before blacking out. \n\nThis was the night that I finally met them face to face. Or more, I heard the giggles. I lost my sister in front of me. The night I stayed to protect her. I was going to be the one to chase whatever evil was haunting her. That was the night my sister would be able to rest and wake up without worries. But i lost her that night. And yet, this exact moment truly defined fear. Worse than the night I lost Charlotte. \n\nThe giggles became louder and louder. I could the see the room around me. I could see where everyone was at. Blurry and unrecognizable. I tried calling out for help but all I mange was a whimper. I could walk around the shadows that i knew belonged to my friends but I could not get their attention. The room was almost dark and the shadows gray like smoke. The giggles. They were getting closer but I could not see where it was coming from. \n\nI ran. And ran but the room only got bigger and I could never reach the door. My body began to feel heavy. I could feel tears running down my face. I ran to the shadows: \"HELP ME!\" I begged. But my voice sounded like it was drowned under water. I tried punching a shadow but my arm weighed a thousand pounds and fell weakly to my side. The giggles were closer now. \n\nHi. What's your name. We want to play with you. Play with us. Stay with us forever. Like your sister. Charlotte. You are special. Like Charlotte. Like Charlotte. Like Charlotte. \n\nLike Charlotte. Over and over again with the same giggle. Every time. \n\n\"Charlotte!!\" I screamed as I ran. Calling out for my sister as if she were still alive. I ran helplessly knowing I was only running in place. \n\nLike Charlotte.\n\nLike Charlotte. \n\n\"Evan. Don't move.\" I heard Charlotte telling me. I fell to the ground as if something tackled me. The weight on my chest felt as if i was hit by a bus. \"Don't move Evan\". It was Charlotte. \n\n\"Charlotte?\". I called. \n\n\"Don't can't hurt you if you don't move\". She told me. I was pinned to the floor. Was it her? Was it the giggles?\n\nThe giggling stopped. \"WHERE ARE YOU BOY. WE WANT YOU. WE NEED YOU. LIKE CHARLOTTE. WHERE ARE YOU BOY!\" \n\n\"I'll protect you Evan. It's my turn\". I saw dark figures moving around. Coming closer. \"It's ok Evan. I'm here now\".\n\n\"WE WANT THE BOY. GIVE US THE BOY. WE NEED THE BOY!\". The giggles were now begging. They past through me and felt a cold I never felt before. They began to scream even more. The ground felt as if it was shaking.\n\n\"If we can't have the boy we WILL come after YOU again and again and again. Like the night we took you Charlotte.\"\n\nI couldn't talk. I want to scream Charlotte to let me go that I would give myself to them. To have to experience what Charlotte did that night every night for how long? No. I was her brother. I would protect her. But I couldn't. Instead I heard Charlotte's voice tell me \"It's ok. It's my turn now Evan.\"\n\nAnd I awoke. The party was still going on and no one had a single clue what happened to me. My sister had become my savior. Since they came, she protected me. She always did. The paralysis I went through, I only experienced that night. Charlotte went through it for years and may still forever. \n\nI love you Charlotte. Wherever you are.", "All my life, I've come to realize I must be crazy.\n\nMost friends have the most rational fears. From spiders, heights, snakes, to flying, rollercoasters, to hell even birds. \nBut its not the case with me, my biggest fear is what most call \"one of the greatest parts of the day\". I haven't gone through a single restful night since I was age 9. Its not the fear of the dark, but what was in it. I wake up every night to the feeling of dark shadows that crawl under the floorboard; to floating bright eyes staring through the dark. Sometimes, they even get inches away from their hands reaching to strangle my throat and suck out my soul. \n\nThat's it! I'm fucking crazy. This is something that my friends, doc, sister, parents think! I'm not denying it, its drove me to the craziest of thoughts. But today, today was different. In my awakening I've found it! I've figured it out. Its something you shouldn't struggle or fear or even fight against! Because even though every night I wake to the sounds of the demons and I drown in fear with the feeling of being only seconds away from death or being saved. I found it! They cant hurt me because I wont hurt them. I've fought it since the day I have it and now I don't see the point in it. Because have they ever even done anything? Did I ever come to death or even been physically harmed? No, so today I faced my biggest fear. \n\nI woke up and I did absolutely nothing. The shadows stared and moved forward motion for an attack, but they stopped! Why did they stop? That's when I figured it out! They knew I no longer had cared. The only reason they did those things was they knew they could bully and get a reaction out of me. But once they stopped I remembered staring at the ceiling fan for at least 14 minutes and hell to be honest I was scared because that had never happened before. But at that time I knew what to do and I knew I was not crazy but maybe it was some hole I fell in that kep happening to me because I was scared. This was what I call a victory. \n\n", "I've had terrible sleep paralysis experiences in the past. ONE really creepy one that I vividly remember-\nI had drifted off into the paralyzing state and i began to hear footsteps come through my door. A tall, black, shadowy yet sort of glowing figure was at the foot of my bed.\nI have a wooden floor in my room, imagine a group of little dogs with long toe nails running around your bed, in and out back and forth, in circles etc. That is what i began to hear but of course I didn't think it was dogs at the time.\nTHEN right outside my window, I heard a group of children singing carols. Not happy-go-lucky bs Christmas carols, but a low sort of chanting, though, I could not make out the words.\n\nThis is one of the many times I woke my mom up, who sleeps down the hall, just by screaming with my mouth closed. ", "I remember the nights when I was younger, sitting in the dark, sheet pulled up to my chin, and eyes squeezed tightly shut as I attempt to cease all movement. I could hear footsteps, and those piercing green eyes in the closet...\n\nEvery morning that creature would somehow disappear into my sister's glow in the dark dragon costume that my parents stored in my closet, and the dogs would always make the same stepping sound. At friends' houses I was always praised for my sturdy pillow forts. To them, it was about having a dark fort with room to move around,for me, it was about being able to see and move safely. I was separated from, what their parents called, the cat.\n\nI was thinking about this when I went to lie down tonight. I watched some Netflix on my computer across the room for a while, but when my season of Bob's Burgers ended, I rolled over to reach for my navigation tablet and turned off my computer. Wen I reached to replace the tablet, I saw it.\n\nThe green eyes. A dark, fuzzy silhouette surrounding those piercing green eyes. It was staring at my hand. I remained motionless. Something rang through me, like pure instinct coming straight from my childhood. We sat there for what felt like hours. I wouldn't dare move while he was following my shape under the covers with those eyes all night. I saw that all the other houses with lights off had these creatures looking in the windows.\n\nI heard muffled screams coming from the house two doors up. I only knew because they all looked up there briefly. I finally let my hand fall back to the sheets, and the creatures all turned back to their windows. He noticed something was different. he pulled open the window and crawled, no, fell in. It stood up so I could finally see what he looked like fully. Long sharp claws on both pairs of arms, and all 3 legs. He reeked of mold. He lightly dragged a finger all the way from my hip to my chin, and it took all I had not to scream. \n\nWe stayed staring quietly at each other all night until ,finally, the sun began to come up. It fell out of my window and they all started to head north. I reached for my pone and quickly called the sheriff who lived up the street. He answered with a groggy \"Hello? Josh, why are you calling this early?\" I quickly told him I sent a picture, he needs to use his authority to spread the word about these creatures.\n\nThere was a bubble on my screen telling me he was responding to the picture I took. I heard screaming up the street.", "My vision blurs and crackles, I think, before a scene materialises in front of my eyes: a play of shadows against the peeling paint on the ceiling.\n\nA lawn. A fence a few distances behind. The green of the grass is poisoned by my mind and the perceived night, shifting and morphing from blades, to waves, to fur, and back to harmless green again.\n\nThen footsteps: the refreshing crunch of lawn under its feet. Or his. A person maybe, no, a monster. It has the body of a man, and a face that is hard to define. Advancing with a languid pace, it glides into view, floating closer, closer. Swaying side to side, puppeted by some invisible force.\n\nMy gaze is forced onto its face. It's not much of a face, but a gaping orifice ringed with arching, tapered teeth. What lies within its jaws is more darkness — a blackness flexing and gleaming like muscle.\n\nThere stood a nightmare that is wholly mine.\n\n\"What's that?\" The voice, without a source, is inflected with curiosity. \n\nThen it sees me. It makes no outward indication of it except for a slight shift in posture, a twitch so inscrutable — unless you are looking for it.\n\nIt sees me. It will approach. I cannot run. Run. Run. My body does not listen, or is unwilling to listen.\n\nAs the distance narrows between us, the monster's jaw extends: a sick glint of saliva stringing between its teeth. It never does stop swaying: left, right, left, right—\n\nRight in front.\n\nDo not move.\n\nA riot of pixels explode from the fringes of my vision like a glitch-ridden game — a pause screen gone wrong.\n\nThe moon-white ceiling bleeds through, before the scene vanishes. Weight tapers off my body. My eyes flutter open, to find a single tear trailing from the corner of my eye.\n\nAnd the monster I've brought with me from my dreams.\n", "It had no eyes. There were no eyes. But it was looking at me. I could feel it looking at me. I tried to scream. I tried to warn her but all I could do was look right back at it. A nightmare in real life. I could feel its hunger. It hasn’t fed in days, maybe in weeks. But no matter how hungry it was, it couldn’t attack without movement. Movement is what seals them into this realm, and absence of that will send them back from where they came. I knew it was only a matter of time. She is not immune, she doesn’t know that it’s here. All it would take is a single scratch, a single kick, a single tiny movement, if I could move I would let the nightmare have me if it meant sparing her, but my immunity meant I could not even utter a single phrase, let alone try to fight the nightmare off. I could hear the covers rustling. \n\n“I’m so sorry.” I thought.\n\nThere was a scream.\n\n“So sorry,”\n\nThere was a slash.\n\n“So,”\n\nThen there was only the nightmare, feeding, satisfying its hunger until the dawn light scared it away.\n\n“Sorry.”\n", "I had always thought the monsters were just stories, fairy tales adults told children to keep them in line. But, the creatures chasing me through the woods were no fairy tale. They were as real as the thudding of my heart.\n\nI crashed through the underbrush, fleeing for my life. Strands of vegetation whipped at my face and threatened to entangle my legs. But, I dared not slow down. I could hear the monsters crashing through the woods behind me. There were three of them, all as big as houses and ugly as sin. I could hear them grunting to each other. The stories had always depicted them as dumb brutes. Did they have a language? Were they intelligent? But, I had no interest in stopping to find out. The words of my grandmother rang in my head: “If they catch you, they’ll skin you and eat you,” she would say. “They are evil, nightmares made flesh.”\n\nI felt myself shuddering at the thought as I raced through the woods. The shudder transformed into an icy stab of fear when I heard the snapping of twigs and the pounding of feet behind me, closer than before. The monsters were gaining on me. I realized their long legs could carry them further faster than my shorter legs ever could.\n\nPanicked, my mind flailed about for a way to escape, a way to elude certain death. Suddenly, something else my grandmother said hit me. It was my only hope.\n\nI skidded to a stop. I hastily flipped onto my back. I extending my four legs into the air and stretched out my long tail, simulating rigor mortis. I partially closed my eyes.\n\nThrough slitted eyelids, the monsters soon came into view. They stopped directly over me, looking down at me and grunting at each other in their brutish language. They were as grotesque as the stories described them to be, pink hairless apes that walked upright.\n\n“Just play possum,” my grandmother had said about evading the monsters. “They can’t hurt you if you don’t move.”", "They can't hurt you if you don't move.\n\nThat's what I'm come to realize, after years of those terrifying experiences. They can't hurt you if you don't move. Sleep paralysis. Almost everyone's had it. The simple explanation. When you're dreaming, your brain paralyzes your body so you don't start acting out your dreams. So if you were dreaming about running, you wouldn't actually start pumping your legs in your bed. Sometimes you wake up before your body does, and you can feel yourself paralyzed.\n\nIt's fucking terrifying. You're not in control of your body, and that's when they come.\n\nThey're visions. When you're in sleep paralysis, sometimes you see things. Terrifying visions, monsters, all that shit. Visions, that's what they are, nothing but visions. That's what everyone says.\n\nNo one's been hurt by sleep paralysis. Ever.\n\nThat's because they can't hurt you if you don't move.\n\nI realized what they are. They're not visions. They're real, and they're fucking evil. Sleep paralysis isn't just some shit for visions, it's a defense mechanism. That's what it is, it's to protect you from them. To protect you from the girl in the blue dress, from the demon in the doorway, from the goblin on your bed, from the man under it. And from you.\n\nMy first sleep paralysis experiences had scared me so much I slept in my parent's bed for a year before braving my own bedroom. I was 12 back then, and my first experiences were of the goblin.\n\nAt least, that's what I called it. It's a short, runty, fat little bastard. It had huge green eyes and this lumpy, scaly skin. Two massive ears, and nose hair sprouting from each nostril. I'd wake up to it sitting on my fucking bed, grinning at me, grinning at me with all those fucking little pointy teeth.\n\nBut he wasn't the real threat. That was the girl in the blue dress. The girl, with that rotting, white, blotchy skin. In that torn, dusty blue dress. With that long, curly black hair that hung over her eyes. Her empty, eye sockets.\n\nShe ran her hands all over me, she hissed, and chattered, the only sounds she could make without a tongue. She tried to stab me with those long, skeleton fingers, but she couldn't.\n\nBecause they can't hurt you if you don't move.\n\n\n\n\n ", "\"Doctor, I know you think I'm crazy. I really do. I just might be, you know? I mean, I've been talking about this shit for years now, and everyone who's ever heard it says I'm fucking nuts. Off my fucking rocker. But I gotta say it, you know? I gotta keep talking about this shit, or it'll, I don't know, it'll eat me up. It'll just tear me up inside until I really am crazy, and I explode. I just gotta. So I checked myself in, so I can, you know, talk about it. That's what's nice about this fucking place. Everyone knows you're a fucking nutter and they all listen and smile and nod and never ever tell you it's a dream, right? I don't feel crazy here. I feel like I make a lot of fucking sense.\"\n\n\"I grew up in Indiana, Doc. My grandma, she had a house, an old creaky wooden house in the woods. In the summer I used to go out with my friends into the woods, and play in the creek, and beat snakes to death with rocks. Kid stuff. The summer was great. It was all green, and soft, you know? Like, the moss was soft. You could run around without shoes on and just let your feet sink into the dead leaves and mud. There was like, cool bits and warm bits. The sun was warm, and the leaves were cool. It's hard to explain, Doc. Jesus Christ, I don't need to go into this with you. I'm turning into a fucking teenage girl. Fuck.\"\n\n\"There was a graveyard in the woods too, if you went far enough. An old one with worn headstones, like, a fucking hundred-year-old bone yard. It was in a clearing, so the sun was always right down on it, you know? But it wasn't ever warm there, like the other clearings. We didn't go there too often. Gave us the fucking creeps, you know? There was this mud there, and it stank. Stuck to fucking everything, too. Thick black mud. Ruined my shoes once, and my grandma beat me for that. She was a fucking hag. Anyway, there was this big hunk of stone in the middle of it, and one time I, I mean, I fucking broke it, you know? I was just sitting on it, I guess it was an angel, and I was sitting on a wing, and it fucking broke. I don't know. The whole thing was worn down and mossy, so you could hardly tell it was an angel once. It could have been one of those creepy ass grim reapers, you know? Anyway, that's when it started.\"\n\n\"I started to see things, you know? At night. In my fucking closet. It was this chick in a fucking nightgown, and she was all rotted and shit. No eyes or hair or nothing, just all bones and skin. Fuck. Creepy as hell. And she'd just sit in my closet and watch me, like a fucking creep. You could only tell it was a chick because she wore an old dress, all tore up and shit. And sometimes I'd hear crying, like it was a chick, you know? Inside my closet. It was like that for a long time. Just crying, and this skeleton chick staring at me. I told my grandma and she took me to therapy, to see this lady doctor who talked about my parents and shit. Told me it was some repressed fucking memory or some shit, I don't know. Fuck. Anyway, it was like that for a while. Just some repressed memories and shit, and I ignored it. I ignored it for a long ass time.\"\n\n\"Then one night, I woke up. I woke up and this skeleton chick was standing over me in bed, with her finger on my lips, and she had this huge fucking smile on her face, like she was in the middle of some funny fucking joke and she was waiting for me to laugh. And I just, you know, I fucking froze. I didn't even breathe while she was looking down at me. She started, I don't know, humming or singing or some shit. And running her finger under my chin and down my neck. She had this long nail, and it scratched at me a little. Then she leaned down and, like, I don't fucking know, kissed my on the forehead. Except she didn't have lips anymore, so it was just her fucking teeth on my face. And I still didn't move, even though she was right fucking there.\"\n\n\"There's only one way I know I'm not totally fucking off my rocker, doctor. And that was the stupid fucking dog. It came in my room and started barking. I mean, you saw what fucking happened to the dog. I didn't move, I just fucking watched from bed. She just, you know, she got her nails in him, and she just, I don't know, she tore him up, and spread him all over. He was squealing the whole fucking time, and she was just still humming this stupid song the whole time, like she was picking fucking daisies or something. Then she came to me in bed, and she took her hands, and they were all fucking bloody from the dog, and she started to put lines on my face. One at a time. And then a few on my chest. And I didn't fucking move, even though I was sobbing, because then she'd get her nails in me and my fucking guts would be hanging from the ceiling fan too, you know?\"\n\n\"Anyway, I got put in a place like this, and they worked at me until I could ignore her better. You know. Told me she wasn't real and gave me fucking pills and shit. And it worked for a really long time, you know? Except a few months ago, I had this chick over, and she kept me up past when I normally fall asleep, because, you know, I mean I don't have to tell you, Doc. You get me. And after she fell asleep, that dead bitch was there again. And I was just laying there, thinking that if I moved, or if that chick woke up and saw, we were both fucking dead. And this dead chick was just humming that fucking song and kissing me and running her hands all down me again. And so I came here.\"\n\n\"Hey, Doc, when you leave tonight, can you have the orderlies leave the fucking lights on? I don't do so good in the dark, you know?\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 5, 7, 7, 8, 42 ]	[ "1441328269", "1441333484", "1441311779", "1441321121", "1441292126", "1441320523", "1441298674", "1441295652", "1441309659", "1441298560", "1441294690" ]
	[WP] A Viking dies in glorious battle, but when he awakens in the afterlife he finds himself in the Christian Heaven instead of Valhalla.	31	[ "“Welcome, Erik, to the gates of Heaven!” Saint Peter said. “We have been expecting you.”\n\nErik’s brow furrowed. “Heaven . . .” he said slowly. “Don’t you mean Valhalla?”\n\nA look of confusion crossed Peter’s face, and he looked down at the scroll in his hands. “Hmm, no, you’re definitely not another transfer . . .”\n\n“Why am I not in Valhalla? I died in glorious battle!”\n\n“Battle you say? Hmm, this is very odd. Would you mind handing me the scroll in your hand, Erik, it should show more details about your death.”\n\nErik looked down, surprised to find a scroll gripped tightly in his right hand. He handed it to Peter. \n\n“Hmm, yes, how could I forget? Okay, Erik, I think I understand the problem. I have some bad news, you might want to take a seat.” Peter gestured, and a small chair appeared.\n\n“I don’t want to sit down!” Erik yelled, “I want mead, I want to meet Odin, I need to prepare for Ragnarok!” He picked up the chair and tried to throw it at Peter, but it disappeared in his arms, leaving him thrashing in frustration. \n\n“You need to calm down, Erik.” Peter said quietly. “Don’t make me call Gabriel.”\n\n“Just explain why I am here and not in Valhalla!”\n\n“Hmm, well it seems, Erik, that you were particularly far south when you died in battle, much farther than Vikings normally travel. Is that correct.”\n\n“Hum, I suppose so? We traveled much farther than usual in our raids this year.”\n\n“Well, Erik, I’m just going to come out and say it, it seems that you died in battle fighting Muslims. And it says here that you killed quite a few Muslims before you were finally brought down by an arrow in your neck.”\n\n“Muslims . . .? What does that matter?”\n\n“Well, hmm, it appears that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, has reached an afterlife arrangement with the other god’s that all souls that kill at least three Muslim’s are guaranteed a place in Heaven. I believe it was the only way he could make the crusades happen.”\n\n“But why would Odin agree to such a thing?”\n\n“I couldn’t say, dear Erik. But there doesn’t seem to be any way around this law. So . . . welcome to Heaven!”\n", "Vagnar the bloodthirsty groaned as he awoke. The memories of his most recent and most glorious battles still fresh in his head. Until that axe had come out of nowhere.\n\n\"hello, hello, ah good, you're awake\".\nVagnar searched for the source of the voice, but found himself only surrounded by an empty whiteness.\n\n\"What is this trickery\" he bellowed. \n\n\"Now Tim, if you'd please calm down, we'll get you settled into you're own personal heaven soon enough\" was the only reply he got.\n\nHis frustration only grew and he began searching for his sword, \"Who is this Tim you speak of... I demand that you return to me my sword before I summon the full fury of Odins might\".\n\n\"wait, you're not Tim?\" the voice asked, with hints of worry beginning to come through.\n\n\"FOOLS, I AM VAGNAR THE BLOODTHIRSTY, LEADER OF DARK HORDE AND SLAYER OF THE ARMY OF WOLVES\"\n\n\"1 minute please\" \n\nVagnar began howling and beating his chest, building himself into a full-blown fury, whilst in the background a conversation could be heard.\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\n\"Pete, it's happened again. We've got some Vagnar bloke in room 16485\"\n\nA mumbled reply could be heard\n\n\"look, just call up Valhalla, ask to be put through to Bill in HR. Tell him we've got one of his and ask him to keep an eye out for a Tim from accounting'\"" ]	[ 15, 42 ]	[ "1441486731", "1441486284" ]
EDIT: it doesn't have to be a meteorite crashing into earth. I like the ones so far, but you can kill humanity however you want. It can be Cthulhu, it can be aliens, or it can be a solar flare. Whatever you want, the world is yours to murder.	[WP] The last minute of your life before the world ends.	19	[ "I totally should've asked Diane if she wanted to bang one out when we clocked in. Fuck. Even on the last day of my existence I get called into work. Fuck you, Jerry, fuck you and your three kids. Maybe I'll call my mom, she might not even know the world's ending, I can't remember the last time she checked the news. Never mind, that's no way to spend my last moments. Oh shit the phone is ringing. \n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Ted? Hey, it's Jerry, I know it's right about that time so I just wanted to thank you, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't get to share my last moments with my family, and there's literally no way for me to ever repay you, but I wanted to let you know that I-\"\n\n\"Yeah Jerry it's fine, just get back to them before I start the machine\"\n\n\"Look man, just, thank you. Thank you so much, I didn't really even know you and here you did me this favor. I'm sure you had to give up seeing someone for this.\"\n\n\"No. Jerry, I didn't.\"\n\n\"Oh, Okay... Well, hey man, don't worry about it-\"\n\nTed puts the phone down but the faint sound of Jerry not shutting up persists. Ted begins walking to the other end if the room. \n\n\"Motherfucking last day of Earth and somebody still has to fuck with my shit. Computer, activate The End is Bill Nigh protocol.\" \n\n\"Are you sure you want to quit?\"\n\n\"Yes! Fuck, even you gotta question my sh-\"\n", "They told us all to take the pill at 11:59. By noon we would walk together into extinction. I took my pill at exactly 11:59, just like I knew all the rest of the 6,000 people left existing on earth did. We are all gathered in the same area, the last place the radiation hadn't reached, until a few months ago. We have no hope for this world anymore, just hope for after.\n\nI laid in bed with my thoughts, my daughter's baby blanket clutched in my hands. I had no tears left to cry, and I hoped upon hope that my sleep would come quick and easy and I hoped I'd see my family again. \n\nMy stomach turns as I look out the window to the right of me. It's not unpleasant, kind of reminds me of my first roller coaster ride. Those days so long ago, smiles abound. Feels like I am looking back on someone else's life. \n\nFeeling tired now, won't be long. I look out at the grey clouds and smell the noxious fumes. For a brief second, the sun somehow breaks through the clouds and I am filled with intense joy. I close my eyes and let the warm dark beyond consume me. I am, we are...no more.", "“Dance with me.”\n\nHe blinked in confusion, “Here?”\n\nShe nodded, “Yeah. here.”\n\n“There’s no music,” he said, while standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his pants and reached out a hand. \n\n“Do we need music?” She said, giggling and reached up to grab his hand. \n\nSo the couple continued to dance without music on the roof of a skyscraper. While others were huddled beneath the surface of the earth in bunkers that would probably not withstand the death that would be raining down, the couple stay on the surface. \n\nAnd when their dance ended, there was no applause. \n\nJust a single clap. \n", "There was nothing left. I looked down at my hands as the dust fell around me; these few last things I had to remember us by. A portrait of you, held loosely between index and ring, slipping through to drift lazily down to the haze and flash below. Her necklace, shiny and cut; its diamonds reflected the harsh sunlight around it, onto the hands that slit it's neck. \n\nAs the horizon around me burst into plumes of orange and red fire, the blackest of smoke rising malevolently above the town we once called home. The air was thick and dusty, people could be heard screaming below and I wanted nothing more than to join them. But I sat. Looking forward, smoking my last cigarette, sitting on the edge of the building we built, we lived, we loved. The highrise swayed with the gale, I didn't care. The once pristine brick roof now was nothing but grey ash. The wind didn't carry breeze anymore, just suffocation.\n\nAs I put my cigarette out on my leg, the pain gave me more pleasure than agony. It was something to feel, when the last few days had all but desensitized me. It was a pleasure to be in pain. I wanted those last few moments of humanity before the cold embrace. The blood in my ears pounded as I stood.\n\nThere is nothing beautiful about death. It's messy and confusing and brings more misery than the happiness I expected. I just wanted you to be happy, Darling. But as I saw the the blood pour from your slender neck, and the horror flood to your face, I knew it wasn't happiness. It was fear. Don't you understand? This was the end of the world, honey. I love you. I needed to see you die so you didn't have to see me. You really were beautiful, even after the colour drained from your face. Goddamn I wanted to hold that face again; I'd be there soon, baby.\n\nMy blood pounded hard in my ears as I stood. My vision blurred with every heartbeat as I took the first step. I got weak knees with the second. On the third, I didn't feel the floor at all.", "Tick...tock.\n\nNot all minutes are created equal. \n\nTick...tock\n\nYes, all are comprised of exactly sixty seconds, and, if measured by the cold dispassionate hand of the clock, count down exactly the same number of ticks each time. However, humans are _anything_ but dispassionate. Consider; surely there have been times when the seconds melted into minutes and the minutes into hours all without you even noticing. While you read that one book, or perhaps as you stared into the eyes of your lover. A minute can seem little more than an instant, passed in the blink of an eye.\n\nTick...tock.\n\nThere are times, however, where a minute is an eternity. This is one of those minutes. \nThe knife feels good in his hand as hands of the clock tick away in the background, the only sound left to him.\n\nTick...tock\n\nThe hands rest at 11:59, as they have for the past hour. The past day. All his life. The metal glints in the moonlight. The point hovers over his heart. His hand shakes.\n\nTick...tock\n\nHe smiles, and the words of his once favourite poet spring unbidden from his lips. \n\n“Good creatures, do you love your lives\n\nAnd have you ears for sense?\n\nHere is a knife like other knives,\n\nThat cost me eighteen pence.\n\nI need but stick it in my heart\n\nAnd down will come the sky,\n\nAnd earth's foundations will depart\n\nAnd all you folk will die.” \n\nHe sticks the knife in his heart and the sky falls, the earth is torn asunder and ashis heart beats its last the world tumbles into darkness. \n\nThe clock strikes 12. The ticking stops.\n\n*\n\nThe poem is by A.E. Housman, I don't believe I'm in violation of any rules by quoting his work in the story, but if I'm incorrect I will happily edit out at the behest of a moderator.", "00:00:\n\nIt’s been 7 minutes. 7 minutes is definitely too long. My palms are getting sweaty and I’m worried now. I know it will happen, it’s inevitable but it’s a matter of when. Then it finally happens, the relief is palpable and I greet it with a confident smile, I knew it was going to happen all along.\n\n“Just a beer please”. \n\nWhy does it take so long to get served at these places? Unbelievable. And £5 for a pint!\n\nI turn around, the queue for the bar senses the gap and surges. My beer is squashed up against me and I lose £2.50 of it down the front of my shirt. I assign blame instantly to the most non-threatening person closest to me and my eyes meet with a slightly sorry-looking red haired girl. \n\n“Could be worse,” she says, “we could all be dead by now”. \n\n“Ha!” I say, “I suppose. I swear they only make these end of the world predictions as an excuse for a party”.\n\n“Probably, but we made it past midnight so we’re absolutely…\n\n00:01:\n\n…\n", "\"Welp, this is it, huh?\" I asked my best friend Nick, who is currently taking a swig from his bottle of vodka. \"The way the world ends.\"\n\n\"Don't make sound so romantic.\" he responded, \"The worlds about to get nailed by a giant flaming rock, it's supposed to sound awesome!\" Always a fan of destruction, Nick was. In the sixteen years we've known each other out of our twenty year long lives, he hasn't really changed. Not that I’m complaining, of course. \nWe walked in silence for the next fifteen minutes, our destination: the city bridge. Why the bridge? We weren't completely sure, it just seemed like the best place to watch everything go down, especially if we climbed to the top of it. I took a long drink from my bottle, enjoying the light taste of raspberry before the alcohol burns my mouth and nose. In all of the, lacking for a better word, excitement, we managed to slip into a grocery store and swipe two bottles of the drink as others dashed around the store in a frenzy to gather supplies. Little did they know that the incoming asteroid was large enough to wipe out the planet, but I guess ignorance is bliss, right? \n\n\"Hey, remember that time when we were eleven or whatever and we burned down that old barn by accident?\" Nick asked.\n\n\"Yeah, I had to run in and save your stupid ass.\"\n\nNick snorted. \"Yeah, not my brightest moment. Anyways, I never really than-\"\n\n\"Look,\" I interrupted, \"If you're about to get emotional right now, don't. I don’t think I can handle you bawling your eyes out right now.” Nick laughed and waved me off. \n\n“I promise not to cry, but I really do want to thank you for that. If you hadn’t, how else was I going to make your life a living hell?” I gave him a confused look.\n\n“You have the weirdest way of saying thank you.”\n\nWe arrived at the bridge, which was packed with cars honking as they moved at a snail’s pace to cross. Being that the asteroid was aimed just of shore of our fine city, we were considered Ground Zero by the media and scientists alike. It took less than a few minutes to reach the first white bricked tower, which stretched about a hundred feet into the sky where two American flags waved in the breeze. The only thing left was to reach the top, which would normally be impossible to just anyone. Each of the towers had a doorway that lead to a staircase to the top, and that door is always locked. Fortunately, Nick was a master lock picker, having practiced on this door many times whenever he brought a lady friend here for…reasons. \n\nAfter the door was picked open, we climbed the several story staircase to the top and kicked open the metal door. The wind was much stronger up here than it was on the ground, but hardly enough to bother either of us. We carefully walked over to the edge and sat down, both of us gazing outward at the ocean as it sent wave after wave towards the beach. It really was tranquil up here.\n\n“So how much longer until it hits?” Nick asked, taking another swig from his bottle. I glanced at my watch, which read a quarter after three. \n\n“They said it would hit in about seven hours at about 8:30 this morning…so about another fifteen minutes or so.” Nick hummed in acknowledgement. We sat in silence for the next while, unsure of how much time had passed. The flaming ball had been visible since around noon, and now it was at least six times its size since then and continued to grow in size as it got closer to its target. \n\n“Any regrets?” Nick asks, startling me a little. I think the alcohol is starting to work me over…\n\n“Probably not being able to take your sister you the carnival like I promised.” I responded truthfully. \n\n“Yeah, she would’ve loved that. Hell, she loves you.” Nick admitted as he turned to gauge my reaction. “Ever have any thoughts of dating her?”\n\nI shifted a little. “Maybe in another life. How about you? Any regrets?” \n\n“Spending my final moments with your ugly ass.”\n\n“You dick.” We both laughed. \n\n“But seriously, I don’t think I have any.” Nick said, setting his bottle between us. “I had a loving family and plenty of friends, I’ve done everything I could have wished to by this age aside from graduate college, and I met the coolest person in the world.”\n\n“Yeah, I agree. I am pretty cool.”\n\n“Shu-”\n\nA loud crashing sound interrupted Nick in the direction of the ocean.\n\nThis was it, the asteroid had hit the bulleyes. \n\nWaves and blazes of fire erupted from the impact sight, all of which were heading in our general direction. I raised my bottle to Nick, who picked up his own and tapped it against mine. \n\n“Remember the deal?” He asks, a single tear falling from his eye.\n\nI nodded. “If we go to Heaven, meet up at the gate. If we go to Hell, I’ll see you in the biggest strip club. Anywhere in between, we meet up at-“\n\nCRASH!*", "Mike's cigarette glowed orange as he took another drag. He leaned back in his lawn chair and sighed, smoke lazily drifting from his mouth. 30 years old, and this was it. He scanned the southern sky looking for the asteroid that would kill civilization.\n\nMike heard the roof door open and shut but didn't bother to turn around, his eyes still fixed around capricorn. There were footsteps followed by clattering as another chair was unfolded next to him. Mike took another drag from his cigarette then held it out.\n\n\"Thanks, hun,\" Laura said as she picked the cigarette from Mike's hand, pulled a joint from her ear, and used the burning ember to light her weed. She flicked the cigarette off the roof then handed the joint to Mike.\n\n\"You too,\" Mike said.\n\nThey sat in silence for a minute, passing the joint back and forth. If not for the end of the world, it would have been a lovely summer night. The city was quiet. For the past several weeks there had been chaos--sirens, fires, riots--as people tried to cope.\n\nTonight, nothing. People who thought leaving ground zero would save them had left. Those who could retreated underground. Everyone else was praying or watching or both. Between the lack of people and suicides taking out power lines, most of the city was dark, and stars could be seen fro the first time in decades.\n\n\"I think I see it,\" Laura said, breaking the silence.\n\n\"You sure that isn't a satellite?\"\n\n\"It's not moving sideways fast enough. Look.\" She leaned toward Mike and pointed. Mike followed her finger and squinted.\n\n\"Huh. I think you're right.\"\n\nLaura shrugged. They both kept their eyes on the tiny speck until they could tell it was growing.\n\"Well,\" Mike reached below his chair and picked up a pair of beers. He turned to Laura and offered one. \"It's... been a pleasure\"\n\nLaura took the can and popped it open. \"Yeah...\"\n\n\"Cheers, I guess.\" Mike raised his drink.\n\n\"To going out with a bang.\"\n\n\"To going out with a bang.\"\n\nThey locked eyes, clunked their beers together, and took a drink. They turned back to the stars to watch an asteroid become a meteorite.", "I always figured I'd have a hand in it. Really, I'd have it no other way. A super magnet that attracted asteroids was something to behold. I wondered how many people really knew what was coming. It would be a glorious beautiful fireball and all the shaking and destruction. What a beautiful sight. \n\nIt approaches. A big one, miles in diameter, an Earth killer. I asked for money to stop the machine, and they gave it to me. Trillions of dollars to stop me. I thought of their fear, and I smiled. I could see it, the hot fire in the sky. I counted down in my head. Ten seconds, the burning, the warmth. Five seconds, I can barely stand the heat. It hits. ", "The man in the apartment had the television turned on but he had stopped listening to it long ago. The news anchor had stopped spewing rapid words of panic and worry sometime in the past hour, possibly to go hide down in one of the many bunkers that had been hastily created not but hours after it was announced that something funny was happening to the sun. \n\nThe man in the apartment didn't know the specifics of what was going on with the giant flaming ball of gas in the center of the solar system. He just knew the simple steps that would lead to the end of the world: All electronics would stop working. The temperature will begin to rise. The atmosphere will catch fire, and life on the planet would come to an end. Earth would be reduced to giant barren rock, similar to what it's like on Mercury. \n\nThe man in the apartment whistled as he dug through his refrigerator, pulling out a gallon of milk and checking the expiration date. He let out a near-silent giggle. Even if the damn thing is expired, it's not like I'll be around long enough for the food poisoning to hit me.* He poured himself a glass, took one small sip, holding the milk in his mouth, and then spat it out into the sink. Few minutes left to spare alive or not, he wasn't going to go out with the taste of spoiled milk on his tongue. \n\nThe man in the apartment poured the spoiled gallon of milk down the drain, stopping halfway and laughing at himself again. \"Why am I pouring this out? No point in it really, right?\" He said to no one in general. \n\nThe man in the apartment left the half-emptied gallon of milk on the counter-top and exited the kitchen, first retiring to the living room where the television was on but nothing was happening on it, at least nothing of interest, and then he walked into his son's bedroom, where he still had boxes of belongings still packed up. There were still three days left before it would be his turn to have his son over. He huffed, thinking how his bitch of an ex-wife would be the one to spend the final moments on Earth with their son. \n\nThe man in the apartment sputtered a few curse words under his breath as he tore open one of his son's boxes, one that was filled with toys, and spilled it out onto the hardwood floor. Random action figures clattered to the ground, and then something else that caught his eye. A bouncy ball and some jacks. He laughed as he sat down onto the floor, grabbing the bouncy ball in one hand and the plastic jacks in the other. \"I remember this game,\" he said to no one.\n\nThe man in the apartment began to play the game, bouncing the ball off of the ground, grabbing as many jacks as he could before the ball came down again. \n\nThe man in the apartment didn't notice how the television turned off or how the digital clock sitting on the end-table quickly flashed off. \n\nThe man in the apartment was too absorbed in the child-game of jacks to notice how hot it was getting in the bedroom. \n\nThe man in the apartment bounced the ball, grabbed jacks, caught the ball, bounced it again, grabbed more jacks, caught the ball, and when he went to bounce the ball again, stopped and sighed when he saw that the plastic ball melted into the wooden floorboards. The plastic jacks he held in his right hand were melting into hot plastic goo, searing the flesh on his palm. \n\nThe man in the apartment didn't have time to even flinch from the pain before the lights went out. " ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 4, 8, 11 ]	[ "1441610050", "1441610415", "1441618440", "1441618470", "1441635280", "1441612345", "1441618867", "1441599425", "1441598212", "1441599140" ]
For example, maybe a Roman soldier, fighting for the glory of Rome and to earn his citizenship. A medieval archer, told to fight by his lord against a king he's never heard of. An American Civil War or Napoleonic soldier, fighting just to get three meals a day, regular wages and the chance for loot. A world war 2 trooper, fighting to defend his homeland against all those who threaten it.	[WP] Three soldiers meet in the afterlife. Each from a different period of time. They discuss their differing opinions of War.	76	[ "\tHe had sat and listened to the other two. In that place no distraction offered itself and time was not there and one could only look across at the others and hear them talk in earnest voices that bridged the gulf of tongue and time that had isolated them from each other. They had died violent deaths and remembered them and the two from earlier times had each at length and with little outside comment chronicled themselves inasmuch as their own learning had allowed. There was a pause after the conclusion of the second’s, a lancer of the great Khan, story of being hurled bodily from the walls Zhongdu by three defenders. It seemed his turn now and the Rider looked at him, and so did the legionary and he felt a discomfort that what he would tell would be received with confusion for surely his knowledge was more complete as to their worlds than they could possibly know. \n\n\tHe searched in his mind for a good starting point, and he was pressed with images in his head of what he had just heard and was still in a way taken with the visions of loot trains horizon distant rolling back to the roving Capital camp of the Khan in the steppe out of despoiled China, and of the great siege barges colliding against the Syracusan walls and the cries of defender and Roman alike being joined in chorus by the sea and the salt wind. He just could not impart such images of his own and to his audience they would have to understand conflict in the abstract and as a greater thing than just one place in time where force meets force. \n\n\t“In my age I did not aspire to be a Soldier and I knew nothing of war until I was forced by my leaders to be one and trained as a young man to go off and fight and most young men at the time were like this and did not think of war with longing. In truth I was a teacher, and I taught young adults history, and in my time education was offered to all of those in my nation and for the greater part of my life the world was at peace and warfare fell out of practice and we taught it as a remnant to days past where mankind still foundered in an unchecked irrationality. That man had not yet settled on systems where logic and learning and reason were the mediators of conflict and not the implements of death which we have favored from the first. This may sound strange to you, but the events surrounding your lives are known to me, and were taught widely to the people of my time. To us, your ways were historical fact and disparate from our mature world. “The two looked at him and seemed to understand or at least did not stop him and ask any questions, this place whatever it was made relating your point unnaturally easy.\n\n “This is insincere because war always persisted despite our learning, and for some of the world it remained as present in life as it was to either of you. But for the people of my nation and of many others it was a temporary thing and those who came back from it brought stories of horror so awful all we could do was compartmentalize it and ignore the pain and the cost and let it remain dormant in our conceptions and remind ourselves that we had progressed our rude animal selves such that war was impossible even if one would break out every generation and all the while we continued to use our progress to progress the manner of fighting alongside peaceful development and so the scale of everything grew. You must understand that in my age the human cost of war dwarfed easily any that you participated in. The population of the world was hundreds of times as great as it was in your days and our methods of fighting much broader, and our generals were often little concerned with certain place or time, but on a great series of battles simultaneous and also far flung, that we could make the world a battlefield and have everything at play all at once and not just some city or people but a dozen and more. We even had in my day invented weapons which could hazard all the nations of the world and put an end to everything, and not just one nation if they were used. “He paused and hoped that the image of scale he was trying to impart was going through, and he felt a bit haughty. They still looked at him but in the pause the Roman had a question. “That may all be true but you have not spoken of your deeds in war, clearly we are all here because we are warriors, tell us of that and then you may speak of your age.” “Yes, tell us of you fighting a world battle,” agreed the Mongol. \n\n “Here it is I suppose. I said I was a trained to be a teacher and was unlearned in killing when I was sent to war. In this way I differ from you, I have not the look of a warrior and never carried myself that way and the way we fought war required a great train of support and supply so that very few soldiers of an army fought in the proper sense as you would see it. I was, in training known by my instructors to be of the type unsuited for combat and that being so I was assigned to my company as a cook, and hardly ever held a weapon or did much soldiering and I made meals for everyone and I liked being separated from the fighting and was frightened by day and night by the sounds of war and the streams of dead and wounded I saw go past. I guess I was a coward, and I hoped to avoid any danger. So this went on in my war for a while and only one time was I ever face to face with the enemy. One night there was a great attack by our enemy and they came forward in a line of battle that stretched across an entire nation and they threw our forces on the front lines into an immediate retreat they so surprised us. I was asleep but by dawn they threatened us at my own camp, safe I thought in the rear and I was so scared I was shaking when I held my weapon and my commander was telling us to ready for the enemy’s assault. “\n\n The next scene came out in a spurt of emotion and the two warriors leaned in to hear it full. “They came at us from out of the trees in a great noisy wave and we just killed as many as we could as they ran at us and I saw all the blood and saw guys I knew drop dead or maimed and the noise was so loud that I could not focus and I just stared at them come closer and didn’t know what to think or do. My friend was another cook and he saw me like that and came up and gave me a blow to the back of my helmet with his hand and told me to run and get away from here and then the enemy made it to our lines and there broke out a sudden melee and a man jumped onto my friend and stabbed him full through in an instant with a long knife in the chest and I heard the ribs crack and I saw him kill him with a twist and suddenly I closed the distance forward without a thought and brought my rifle down onto his exposed neck and he got knocked stiff and I brought it down again on his head a few times and watched the blood and bone flow out onto his hair and shirt and we had repelled the attack which was sudden and short looking back and the remnants of the enemy fled away back into the forest and that was the only time I have killed or been in a battle.” He finished this hurried recollection and he felt weak for it in front of these men who had reveled in war. The two men held the silence with him for a little time and considered him sternly, and then the Mongol spoke. “When you killed this man what did you feel after you saw him dead there.” The Teacher looked at the both of them and said, “It felt for some reason like I had won.” The two listeners smiled at him and the scars on their faces stretched or tightened. They all three had come to an understanding.\n", "Barney Johnson was smoking a pipe, squinting at the bearded man in front of him. The fellow had a Kalashnikov rifle sitting across his lap and his clothing was dirty and tattered. A black flag with some funny squiggles was behind him. Behind Barney was the Confederate Flag. \n\nThen the Al-Qaeda and Confederate turned in unison to the third soldier, a tall, equally bearded man with an older looking Kalashnikov slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a grey trench coat. Behind him was a bright red flag dotted with yellow stars. \n\n\"I am Soviet.\" He said, staring down the two. \n\n\"Al-Qaeda.\" The Muslim said. \n\n\"American,\" Barney added, blowing out smoke. \"I think we got some bad blood between us.\" \n\n\"Americans are dogs.\" The Soviet grumbled. \n\n\"Evil pigs.\" The Al-Qaeda spat. Barney rolled his eyes, putting the pipe back in his mouth, talking around it. \n\n\"The name is Barney Johnson. Fought for the south in the American Civil War - died at Gettysburg.\" \n\n\"Ivan Torstev. Fought for the Soviets - died at Stalingrad.\" \n\n\"I am Muhammad Aljari. I fought the Holy war with Al-Qaeda - died in Baghdad.\" \n\nBarney whistled, folding his legs. His musket leaned against the chair he was in. They were all in chairs. \"Sounds like we all went through Hell, boys.\" \n\nIvan scoffed. \"You know nothing of the horrors of Stalingrad.\" \n\n\"I should be re-united with Allah at any moment now - my death will not be in vain.\" Muhammad shouted, getting to his feet. \n\n\"Sit down, kiddo,\" Barney grumbled, blowing out smoke. \"I don't think any death in war is in vain.\"\n\n\"Kiddo?!\" \n\n\"I disagree, American,\" Ivan said, drawing Barney's gaze. \"It is in vain when you lose.\" \n\n\"Wrong. War facilitates change.\" \n\n\"War should be for a just cause - a Holy cause!\" Muhammad said. \n\n\"There is nothing holy about war.\" Ivan growled. \n\n\"When the Lord is on our side, every round shall strike into the enemies heart and the infidels will soon come under the sway of the true religion - Islam!\" Muhammad lifted his rifle into the air. \n\nBarney rolled his eyes again. \"Christians thought the same way.\" \n\n\"Christianity is an abomination.\" \n\n\"Is that why you're dead with us?\" Ivan challenged. \n\n\"My death furthers the goal of our Holy Crusade. We will sweep over the Christian lands like the hand of God and we will show you the light.\" \n\n\"Now why would you ever want to do that?\" Barney raised an eyebrow. \n\n\"It is the will of Allah.\" \n\n\"War should be for the community, for the whole. War is only worth it when it ends in victory, and after we fight and die as one, we live and rejoice as one.\" Ivan said, nodding. \n\n\"War is about changing the world,\" Barney argued. \"Win or lose, you fight and die for change.\" \n\n\"Change that will come through us - the loyal servants of Allah.\" \n\n\"Goddamn, kiddo, you're annoying. God or Allah or whatever don't have anything to do with it. When you win you change what you wanted to change, and when you lose you yourself are going to be changed. God doesn't pick sides, and he isn't there for you on the battlefield. War is the ultimate expression of us humans - and God ain't got no place there.\" Barney blew out some more smoke. \n\n\"I would have enjoyed killing you for Allah, American.\" Muhammad said. \n\n\"You wouldn't have lasted a second in Gettysburg, kiddo -\"\n\n\"Stop calling me kiddo.\" \n\n\"- So don't go talking like you know what real battle is like.\" \n\n\"Neither of you understand the struggles of Stalingrad.\" Ivan said. \n\n\"Because my feet pounded the blood soaked dirt, and I breathed more musket smoke than fresh air. I didn't huddle in a city and die, and I sure as hell didn't stumble through some sandstorm only to get shot at.\" \n\n\"You don't understand our hardships.\" Muhammad and Ivan said in unison. Barney sucked in some more smoke. \n\n\"And you two kiddos don't understand war.\" Smoke glided out of his mouth, floating upwards towards an infinite nothingness while the three men continued to bicker and argue in their chairs, unaware of where they were of what they were doing. ", "And so we went to war\n\nThey have met in the Waiting Room, somewhere between life and death and what came next. Shaft, Twig and BTK. Not their names, of course, but what they were. Eventually, a conversation started. And of course, the most important question was \"How did you end up here?\".\n\nShaft spat on the floor with dismissive snort. Almost 40, with skin tough like a combat boot. Dirty chainmail clanking as he moved.\n\n-Fucking frenchie nobles, how else. We were trenched nicely, shooting their dumb 'orses. One of em got me in the skirmish. Could even gut me proper, took me fucking forever to bleed out. And why coz his majesty says \"Let's meet em at Crecy\", so ol' Gary gets 'is bow n gets 'imself killed. What bout you, kid?\n\nTwig shivered. Pale, thin, barely over 18, hay tied around ankles.\n\n-Turkish hornets bite hard. I think we were ordered to storm the bridge. His exellency didn't make much sense. Nemetz he was. Wish I had stayed home, I was gonna make a new flute. But his majesty said we needed to take Azov back.\n\nBTK sat silent. Black as night's sky, he couldn't talk much since a mine shredded his face. But in his thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder if he was that different. Send by a wealthy man in a nice suit as an envoy of democtacy only to die on some dusty Iraqi road.\n\nThey were near slaves, he thought, drafted by power hungry monarchs. His service was his choice. They were different.\n\nRight?", "In an instant, everything I knew was gone. In another, I awoke to white. \n\n\"It's about time.\" I heard a voice murmur as I opened my eyes, realizing that I was laying on the ground rather than inside the helicopter I was just piloting. Right, the helicopter, it was going down. We were going down hard.\n\n\"Help him up, why don't you?\" I heard another voice.\n\n\"Why me?\"\n\n\"Because I helped you.\"\n\nSomeone groaned and then I felt a hand reach for my own, lifting me out of the white space and up onto the ground. It was at that moment that I saw the two people in front of me. The first was a large man, with a beard that I could only describe as epic in size and girth. He dawned a horned helmet, his chest adorned with a symbol I had never seen before, and a large animal pelt laid over his left shoulder. In his right hand was a large battle axe.\n\nThe second one was a much smaller woman, who I could only describe as robotic. Her eyes glowed sharply and I swore that her entire body clinked as she stood up. Next to the rock she was sitting on sat a rather large assault rifle, of the likes I had never seen before.\n\n\"I'm Einar of Clan Danes,\" the larger man said, slightly bowing his head.\n\n\"And I'm Brigadier Colonel Annah Wolfe, 42nd Infantry,\" she paused for a moment and looked at Einar, \"I don't have a clan.\"\n\nI stared at them both before realizing that it was my turn to speak, \"Airman First Class Gregory Shaw, 101st Airborne Division.\"\n\n\"The 101st?\" Annah whistled, \"Which war?\"\n\nI looked at, \"Vietnam, helicopter pilot.\"\n\nAnnah nodded and sent off an impromptu salute with her left arm, one that made a robotic noise as it moved. I, remembering my manners, saluted back.\n\nEinar scoffed, \"You soldiers and your salutes. In my time, we saluted each other the only way we knew how.\"\n\nAnnah turned back to him, \"By seeing who could drink the most ale?\"\n\nHe bellowed with laughter, \"Exactly Wolfe! You'd fit in with the clans!\"\n\nAnnah shook her head and turned back to me. \"We were told to wait for a third.\"\n\n\"By whom?\"\n\nEinar threw his arm around me, using the one that held his battleaxe to point into the \"sky,\" which was just more and more white. \"By the Gods of course! Soon, we shall enter Valhalla and feast with the Greatest Warriors of all time!\"\n\n\"You've been murmuring about Valhalla for what feels like months, Einar,\" Annah said as she perched herself on the rock once more. It seemed to by the only thing in the direct area that wasn't white or the ground they stood on. \"They're obviously not in that big of a rush to put us there.\"\n\n\"Rush? There is no rush! I have waited years and years for this moment,\" Einar held up his hand triumphantly, \"What's a few more hours?\"\n\nMy eyes darted back and forth between them as they conversed, fully realizing that it was just us three in a sea of white. \"So what do we do then, ma'am?\"\n\n\"Enough with the formalities kid,\" she laughed, \"Doesn't matter up here.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"I live in,\" she shook her head, \"Correction, lived in 2073. You were the 60's. Einar here was way back in the early 11th century.\" She smiled, fidgeting with her assault rifle, \"Up here, time means nothing.\"\n\nEinar took a seat as well, in a chair that I swore appeared out of nowhere. I looked at Annah, \"Where is here, exactly?\"\n\nShe looked up at me, her eyes gleaming with passion, \"The afterlife, the end, heaven, the clouds above,\" she glanced at Einar, \"Valhalla.\"\n\nEinar nodded, \"We fell in battle and we are greeted by each other.\"\n\nI fell to the ground, but before I hit it, a chair appeared around me and helped me sit down. Part of me didn't even think about it, I was too focused on what Annah had just said.\n\n\"What's got you down, Private?\"\n\n\"I,\" I couldn't quite find the words, but part of me knew that the two people standing in front of me were fighters, too. If I said it, they'd understand; I stared at the ground. \"I went into war, thinking that I could buy more time for my country, my friends, my family; even for people I didn't even know.\" I looked up, \"And now, I'm told time doesn't matter up here. If it didn't matter?\" I shook my head, \"Then what was I fighting for?\"\n\nAnnah shook her head, \"It doesn't matter here, Private. That's the important part. Down there, the world's still kicking. Trust me.\"\n\nIt felt good to hear from someone like her, someone I knew who lived in a world younger than my own, but it still hurt. \"I don't deserve to be here, I shouldn't have been chosen to come up here,\" I murmured.\n\n\"Valhalla's warriors are not chosen, warrior. They're born through the fire of war, through the heat of battle, through the acts of those willing to give it all up.\"\n\n\"Fire of war? Heat of battle?\" I shook my head, \"What fire ends in anything other than destruction, Einar?\" I looked up, staring at the Viking in front of me, \"What heat doesn't leave scars burned into your memory?\"\n\n\"The heat that leaves scars burned into your enemy,\" he said almost immediately, as if he half-expected my questions.\n\n\"It happens to all of us you know,\" Annah added.\n\nI turned to her, \"What happens?\"\n\n\"The rage, the burning passion inside us that doubts your very self. We all feel it, at some point or another.\" She fiddled with her assault rifle, running her metallic thumb over the barrel, \"Sometimes we feel it when we die, other times when you destroy not only a person, but a civilization,\" I could see Einar fidget in his seat at her comment. \"Sometimes you feel it when you make a decision, a decision that could end a war that you thought you believed in. Sometimes you feel it when everything you know vanishes.\" \n\nFinger by finger, she let go of her gun, dropping it into the soft, white ground, and slowly, it disappeared, overtaken by the white mist. \"Other times, the doubt burns inside of you, like the fire of war burns the country side.\"\n\nI could see Einar loosen his grip on his battleaxe, slowly letting go of the weapon of war he used to kill hundreds. It too, disappeared into the white mist.\n\n\"Other times, the doubt reaches you into the afterlife, when part of you wonders,\" without realizing I reached for the helmet that still covered my head, twirling it in my hands before I, too, dropped it into the white mist.\n\n\"What more could I have done?\" We all whispered in unison before a large gate appeared in front of us.\n\n\"You understand,\" a voice boomed behind us, \"It is for that reason, you are here.\"\n\n_____\n\nI really enjoyed this prompt, if you liked my story, check out my subreddit, /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs!", "3 men sat conversing in the waiting room for the afterlife.\n\nIn the first chair sat a giant of a man, blond, burley, and covered in scars and tattoos, a true viking.\n\nIn the second was a man painted in green and black camouflage, and wearing a vest covered in all sorts of pockets, pads, and pouches.\n\nFinally, in the last chair sat a man whose face was covered completely behind a bare metal mask which bore no slits or holes for his eyes, nose, or mouth!\n The little skin that was exposed on his body showed various odd metallic bits and parts protruding from it. \n\n\n\nEager to break the awkward silence, the blond viking spoke up to the two men next to him.\n\n\n\"You must have been great warriors to earn a seat in the waiting room of Valhalla!\" bellowed the Viking\n\nThe man in camoflauge and the metal \"mask\" only turned and looked at the viking in confusion.\n\n\n\"...Ehh well death without glory or honor is hollow, yes?!\"\n\n\n\"Where in sam's hill are you from son..\" asked the camouflaged man \n\n\"I am Bjorn! Son of Halfred, and feller of 300 men and hero of my people! It took 44 spears to slay me you know! What do your people call you Green painted man?.\"\n\nThe man in camouflage replied. \"Captain Price, 1st division, United States army....\" \n\n\"Ahhahh, and what about you metal-man, who are you!\"\n\n\nThe man with the metal mask's voice was odd and mechanical.\n\n\n>\"John-066, IAD corporate operator .\"\n\n\n\n\"Indeed tin-man! now how did you fellow warriors die? It must have been glorious no!?\"\n\n\"Japs...\" Murmured Captain Price.\n\n>\"Orbital bombing. \"\n\n\n\"HHaaha, well do not fret my friends, soon we will be granted access to the afterlife, and we will fight and feast for all of eternity!\"\n\n\"Hope I can see my family again...\"\n\n>\"Here's to hoping there's a tiki- bar up there...\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I woke up in a strange room painted blindingly white. Was it a room? I thought I saw walls, but it seems to continue on forever.\n\nI turned to find two others sitting on similarly blinding white chairs. One man looked to be a soldier from World War One. The other man looked to be a soldier from Vietnam holding his head in his hands, his helmet at his feet. \n\nIt dawned on me. I was dead. All of a sudden I remembered the explosion. The armored humvee flying through the air as if it was a toy. I sat down next to the other two trying to process everything. \n\n\"You alright kiddo?\" The WWI soldier asked as he lit a cigarette. He offered me one and I graciously accepted. \n\nTaking my first drag I sighed \"Is this real?\"\n\n\"Sure is. It's comforting really. No more pain. No more trenches. Only regret I have is leaving my family behind, but I figure they'll be here eventually.\"\n\nI teared up as I thought of my boy Maverick back home. He has to grow up without a daddy. Emily has to raise him by herself. I looked over at the soldier in distress trying to distract myself. \"He ok?\" I asked as I took another drag. \n\n\"Dunno, hasn't said two words since he got here. Just hunched over and cried off and on.\" The man said only half paying attention.\n\nI extended my hand to introduce myself. \"SGT Jacobs\"\n\nHe reached out and gripped my hand with surprising strength. He smiled not saying a word. There was a tear at the corner of his eye.\n\nThe other soldier looked up as if snapped out of a trance \"Jacobs? Where you from boy?\" \n\n\"Minnesota. Small town called Wolf Lake.\" I say a little confused. \"Why?\" \n\n\"What's your mama's name?\"\n\n\"Jenna.\" \n\nThe man grins ear to ear and jumps out of his chair. He pulls me up into a tight hug with tears in his eyes. \"Boy, I've been waiting a long time to meet you.\"\n\nThe old soldier puts out his smoke and stands up. \"Well ain't this a hell'uva family reunion.\" He puts a hand on both of our backs looking at me. \"I think that makes me your grandpa.\"", "3 warriors of their time found themselves in a white waiting room known for warriors deceased and waiting for judgement. Clearly, linear time is irrelevant here....\n\n1 warrior looked like a peasant wielding a a makeshift shield and sword.\nA 2nd warrior looked like a grand knight.\nThe 3rd warrior was a young marine.\n\nThere was an awkward silence with no indication of anything to happen. Just 3 men seemingly waiting for nothing.\n\nTo break the silence, the young marine decided to ask \"So, I assume we're all dead.... I suppose, I should ask... what did you guys die for?\"\n\nThe peasant looked up at the marine and without hesitation replied \"I fought for my family, for their freedom and land. I fought so we could keep our food and our way of life. We were a peaceful group of people until the empire found our lands.\"\n\nThe Knight replied \"That is an honorable death to have died for such a cause. I commend you, you are truly a great a man.\"\n\nThe knight turned to the marine and continued, \"I fought for my King. He was the 8th generation of his lineage, ruled our people with respect and love. his family spent their lives dedicated to the betterment of their people. During battle, he would be seen on the front line of the battle field fighting with his men. I died taking an arrow to the chest for this man. I died knowing this King would continue to serve my family well.\"\n\nThe peasant replied \"I too commend you sir, You sacrificed your life for a higher cause\".\n\nThere was a bit more silence as the peasant and knight expected an answer from the Marine. The marine looked a bit confused, thinking about what his answer might be. The peasant asked, \"So what did you die for young man?\"\n\nThe Marine looked at other two, then down at his feet before answering, \"To be honest, I'm not sure what I died for after hearing your stories. I thought it was for my family, but they were safe at home, probably watching TV and drinking beers before sleeping in their comfy beds. And then I thought I was fighting for freedom and democracy, but I wasn't freeing anyone I cared about, no one from my country. I wasn't fighting for democracy back at home. They weren't affected in anyway. They would still remain a democracy. TO be honest.... I'm not sure what I died for.....\"" ]	[ 1, 3, 5, 13, 22, 32, 51 ]	[ "1441753343", "1441748049", "1441732386", "1441740686", "1441728016", "1441740388", "1441733054" ]
	[WP] You are a simple horse farmer, and you notice your horses giving birth to 4 unusual foals. Upon closer inspection, you realize you breed the Four horses of the Apocalypse.	97	[ "At the moment of the first foals' birth, Russia invaded the Baltic states, quickly raising their flag over Tallin, and Riga. \n\nAt the birth of the second foal, the U.S. and the other members of NATO declared a defensive war. Ten thousand men were killed within the first three weeks. \n\nAt the birth of the third, a grain disease unlike any seen before in the history of the world spread, first through the developing world, then into the developed. It was followed by a virus that killed animals, mainly livestock, decimating the world population. The cost of beef rose to fifty dollars a pound, before it was taken off the shelves. \n\nBy the birth of the fourth, Russia and NATO had exchanged nuclear warheads, leveling New York, Washington, London, Moscow and a hundred more. The death toll reached 300 million. \n\nHe watched them as they stared fixated at some point on the roof of the barn. They were beautiful. \n\nThe first was white as ivory. Light glistened across its hide like warm firelight.\n\nThe second was a deep red, like a black cherry. Muscles already rippled underneath taunt skin, though it wasn't even a year old. \n\nThe third was black like a sea at night. It was stouter than the others, built more like a draught horse, with a deep chest, and short, powerful legs, despite the fact that neither of his parents had draught horse blood.\n\nThe fourth was different. It had looked sickly, emaciated, ever since it's birth five days ago. It's coat was dingy, a milky roan blonde. It was the only one with a marking, a grey star running between its eyes. Or a cross, if one looked at it a certain way... \nIt's hide was pulled tight over its ribs and flanks. It looked like it might starve within the hour, despite his constant care. But it stood with the others, unmoving, staring up into the rafters. \n\nTears streamed down the farmers face as he aimed the rifle. The foals screamed as he put them down in quick succession. Soon they lay in the same spot they had stood, their small, fragile, beautiful bodies soaked in the pool of blood that was quickly spreading. Still crying, he started towards the barn door. Then froze.\n\nHe'd heard the sound thousands of times before, as much a part of the noise of his life as the boiling of a coffee pot or the whirring of a computer was to other people. Now it made him shake, and drop his gun.\n\nThe sound of small hooves getting to their feet. \n\nSlowly he turned around, grasping the cross around his neck and muttering Catholic benediction. \n\nThey stood, staring at the rafters as gushing wounds slowed to a drip. Watching.\n\nWaiting.\n", "I'd say this couldn't be happening, except, well, it's obviously happening.\n\nNever put unproven stallions to unproven mares, they said. You'll get foals that won't be worth a lick, they said. I wanted to breed world-class three-day event horses, and this is the first time I ever bred these mares, so I listened to what \"they\" said. So off my mares went to well-proven studs--Aces High to an Irish horse who would complement her jumping ability and tone down her terrible temper. Number Eight Wire went to another jumping horse, but one who was better at dressage. Aroha, who can jump the moon and is as dumb as a brick, met a pretty yellow all-arounder who could probably do calculus, with the hope that the foal would be somewhere in the middle. And White Serenity, well, she's kind of my pet, so I sent her to a racing Thoroughbred just to have a foal who could run like hell AND jump things.\n\nI should have sent them all to the nice young stallion down the road. But no, I had to listen to what \"they\" said, and now look at what's in my pasture.\n\nLet me tell you how bad it is. Aces, who has one of the nastiest dispositions to handle on the ground of any horse I've ever met, and the only reason I bred her is that once it's time to do her job she gets down to business like no other horse I have ever seen, is terrified of her own foal. It's a short chestnut filly who is 90% feet and teeth and 10% body slam. Aroha's filly is so dumb that she forgets to eat. She is pretty and she will be yellow like her sire and the lights are on but nobody is home. I've never met a foal who forgets to eat, for goodness' sake. Serenity's filly is as white as her dam, nearly died of sepsis, and when she recovered from that, got the worst case of scours I've ever seen in a foal. As for Wire, well. The barn cat had kittens when this horse was three weeks old. Two of them died. Wire's filly stood over the dead kittens for almost a full day, leaving only to nurse, a mouse-grey shadow shedding out to black.\n\nAces' foal needs to be put down. Any horse that dangerous needs to be put down. I'm just not sure how to get in the pasture and catch it, let alone euth it. Might have to clear the others out and use a high-powered rifle. If the white filly gets healthy, she'll be a lovely riding prospect....but foals who get so sick so young don't survive. Aroha's filly is getting sold as soon as she's weaned. \n\nI'm keeping Wire's filly as my own personal riding horse. She's three months old and has already shown more brains and kindness than the other three combined, not that it's hard with Aroha's little moron. She moves nicely, too, and will be a good riding horse.\n\nAnd when her proper owner comes to get her, she will be the best-trained horse they've ever sat on.\n\nBecause that's the bargaining chip I will have, to make my own death as gentle as it can be.", "John sat on his front porch, and waited for the world to end.\n\nOff in the corral, he could see the four horses - those four damned horses - roaming like normal beasts, but he could tell that they were skittish. He'd spent his entire life raising horses, but these, these were the finest creatures he'd ever raised. Not because they were the fastest, or the strongest, but because in the end, they would be the most important.\n\nIt was four years ago that the horses had been born. One bay, one pale gray, one black, and one white. Like the old book said. John hadn't dared name them. That was for the riders to decide. He expected their arrival soon.\n\nAs the sun began to set over the farm, the four horses stopped what they were doing and looked up, staring off into the distance. John sat up. He was right. Damn it all, he was right. He'd known this day would come, been expecting it ever since those four horses had been born, but to know that he was actually right-\n\nFour men appeared on the road, walking casually and slowly towards the farmhouse.\n\nThey didn't look much like John had expected them to. He had expected glorious images straight out of the Bible, carrying the tools that they would use to end the world. The sword, the scale, the bow, the scythe. These men, identical of face, carried no such tools, and were dressed in crisp suits. One red, one black, one gray, and one white. The color of each man's hair matched the color of his suit.\n\n\"Mister Morgan,\" said the man in red. \"We are-\"\n\n\"You don't have to tell me. I know who you are,\" John said.\n\n\"Then that makes this much easier,\" said War. \"We're here for our horses.\"\n\n\"Right over there,\" John said, indicated the stallions with his head. They stood perfectly still, like they had been waiting for this day all their lives. \"They're already shod, up to date on their vaccinations, and trained for riding.\"\n\n\"May we?\" Famine asked.\n\n\"Go right ahead,\" John said. \"They're yours, anyway.\"\n\nThe four men approached the corral, and hopped the fence. The horses walked right up to them, heads held low, each one to the proper rider. The riders looked over the horses like any other buyer that John had ever seen. They checked the coat, the tail, the muscle, the eyes, the ears; every detail of the horse was closely inspected.\n\nOnce they were satisfied, the riders had a brief and quiet conversation. They came to an agreement quickly, and the rider in gray hopped back over the fence. He walked right up to the porch, and nodded to John. \"Fine horses,\" he said.\n\n\"I did my best,\" John said to Death. \"What now?\"\n\n\"We settle up with you, then we take them on our ride,\" Death said.\n\n\"'Settle up'?\" John repeated. He laughed. \"Yeah, like money's going to help me past Judgement Day. I don't want or need your money. Just take the damn things.\"\n\n\"Money wasn't what we had in mind,\" Death said. The sun dipped below the horizon, and the man changed.\n\nThe face and the hair faded away, and in their place appeared a macabre skeleton dressed in ragged gray robes. John glanced at the corral, and saw similar changes in the other men. War was dressed in blood-red chain mail, with a broad sword strapped to his belt. Famine was a thin, gaunt man, dressed in black robes and with a scale in his hands. Conquest was dressed in white with a short red cape and a crown upon his brow, and a bow slung across his chest.\n\n\"Then what did you have in mind?\" John asked, still watching the horsemen in the corral.\n\n\"A soft passing into the next life. Instant access to the eternal kingdom, and you will be exempt from Judgement. Essentially, you'll get to skip the lines.\"\n\n\"And I take it there's no chance of me turning you down?\" John asked.\n\n\"Listen to your heartbeat, John Martin, and tell me yourself.\"\n\nJohn had noticed. It was hard to miss the absence of something that had been with him his entire life. He put a hand on his chest, and felt nothing. \"They are fine horses,\" Death continued as blackness ringed John's vision. \"Strong and hearty.\"\n\n\"What'll happen to them,\" John asked, forcing the last of the air from his lungs, \"After it's all over?\"\n\n\"They'll be cared for, don't worry.\"\n\n\"Good,\" John said. \"The - the bay hates apples, unless they're granny smiths. The white one'll eat any sort, but he prefers golden delicious. Black one doesn't eat too much, but he loves carrots. The - the gray - be careful when feeding the gray. He bites.\"\n\n\"We will keep that in mind,\" Death promised. \"Sleep well, John Martin. You have done your duty.\"\n\nThe world faded to black, and the black faded to nothingness, and the nothingness turned to light.\n\n---\n\nCheck my [blog](http://theballadsofirving.com) for more of the stuff I write." ]	[ 4, 7, 107 ]	[ "1441891445", "1441857347", "1441829847" ]
	[WP] War, Famine, Pestilence and Death. Those were Horsemen of the Old Apocalypse. Tell me about Horsemen of the modern age.	55	[ "Death sighed. She missed the old days, when her three brothers were still the same. Famine, Plague, War and Death. It had a nice ring to it. Almost rolled out of the tongue. Shame it had to change. \n\nYet Death still has a job to do. The Apocalypse was upon the Earth as the seals were being opened, all that fun stuff. Frankly, she thought it should all have been done long ago, back in the middle ages when there wouldn't have been seven billion people for her to reap. With her brothers changing, she had more work to do. Back then they actually made them die, or even kill each other. Nowadays all they did was leave humanity morose and complacent, so that she could come and reap them. \n\nStill, she guessed that it was better this way. The old way would have taken ages to get everyone, and even longer to get to the whole earth-scorching, celestial-entity-fighting bit. \n\nEven the order they got to earth had changed. She was still the last, of course, but now War was the first. Well, what War had become. Petty Squabble brought paralyzing fear now, stopping everyone from giving opinions and receiving massive disapproval from anonymous masses hidden behind Facebook accounts. Funny how the opinion of thousands of meaningless nicks could bring stillness and apathy to the thinking brains. \n\nWar would have been disgusted by what he had become. She knew she was. \n\nThen came Abstinence. That one was not so bad. It was still based on the lack of something, just not food. And the new Hunger was much better looking now, since drug money was plentiful and ever flowing these days, though not only drugs brought it. Sugar and fat were as bad as cocaine these days. In a way, she thought that maybe he had planned that change. It was him who convinced most of humanity that alcohol was not a drug after all.\n\nEveryone always belittled Hunger. Well, makes sense, doesn’t it? It was the easiest of the four to solve, if humanity just got their shit together and decided to make people not starve to death. Of course, though, humans were humans because they couldn’t get their shit together. She had never understood that part of creation, to be honest. God wrote straight through twisted lines, she guessed. Though she never quite understood what that meant either. \n\nHumans had the strangest vocabulary.\n\nYet the new War and Hunger she could recognize. Those two she could comprehend. Yet Plague... Plague had become something else entirely. Completely new. Completely alien. She could barely see him now, and was pretty sure the other two could barely feel his presence. Its presence. She was pretty sure whatever had taken Plague’s place could no longer be called a he.\n\nIt had started simple, but it had spread faster than any infection she had ever seen, swiping the globe in its terrifying embrace, impregnating into their brains, infecting everything. Every single facet of society, every single layer of civilization. It made them complacent, entertaining them with petty things and pretty sights. The worst part? Humanity had embraced it, with open arms and open hearts. It had been maddening, watching them do that. Despite her job, though she hated to admit it, she was quite fond of them. Watching them grow and fail, stumble and then get up. The most rewarding job she could think of.\n\nAmazing species, the lot of them.\n\nBut they just had to go and create something to replace Plague. She was sure they had brought Apocalypse closer by a few centuries when they came up with the idea. Well, “came up” wasn’t the best term. It had simply happened, almost by accident, yet it had opened the doors for the other two to change.\n\nYet now the time had come. The red horseman had gone and done his job. The black one had done the same. Now it was only her, the white horseman, and the green one. The faint shade of a being smiled at her. The cold, terrifying smile only a machine could have.\n\nThe Internet blinked at her, then rode on to do its job.\n", "War. Used to be, you could find him all across the world. He rode with fury across the battlefields of old, revellin' in the conflict, smitin' anyone foolish enough to cross swords with him. He's still around today; too many people with differin' ideas and a will to fight to get rid of him altogether. But he's been driven back as of late, replaced by an altogether different kind of evil. As nations tried their hardest to cooperate and share their ideas, their efforts created a monster of peace: Bureaucracy. Now, he may not seem like much, especially compared to the swift, heavy hand of War, but his malevolence is a much slower beast. Where War attacks like a jackal, fast and hard, Bureaucracy'll torture you slow. He'll promise you the world, but then cover it in red tape so thick not even War could cut through it. Bureaucracy'll kill you off in the committees. He'll take your time, not your life. Bureaucracy'll make a slave of you all, and you'll never even know it. Not 'til you're sittin' on your deathbed, wonderin' what exactly it was you were workin' your life away for.\n\nLikewise, you can still find Famine, if'n you look hard enough. People still go hungry, but rarely is it from of a collective shortage of food. The rider takin' over for Famine may not control the food, but instead the resources needed to acquire it. He rides close with Bureaucracy, always ahead, always takin' advantage of mankind's inherent greed; his name is Corruption, and he has taken a powerful seat in this New Apocalypse. His reach is far, so that it might oppress those that stand against him. His is the hand that pushes ambition over the line and turns our most promising leaders over to his cause. His power is absolute, and it corrupts absolutely. Authority is his favorite tool, and abuse of that authority is his leisure. Corruption's sly, and arrogant. He'll beat you, throw you to the ground, and expect your support the whole time. He works hard to maintain his illusion of honorable intentions, sometimes to the point of believin' it himself. He'll stick around as long as is beneficial for him, and when he is found, he'll go kickin' and screamin', but he ain't never gone for long.\n\nToday, we live in a golden age of disease. That is to say, medical tech is gettin' better every day, and Pestilence's influence on the world is dwindlin'. The new demon that rides in his place ain't even lookin' at us- he's settin' his sights on a bigger target. His name is Waste, and he is vile. He's a product of our own doing, and he seeks to pollute our only universal home. He's the culmination of our development as a species, and the crimes we've had to commit against the natural order to get here. Waste is disgusting, and repulsive. But he ain't malevolent. He's the natural consequence of our progress, and he will take what he is due. \n\nOf all the horsemen that've ridden in the name of the Apocalypse, only one has remained from the beginning. Death rides the same as he has for millennia. He holds no prejudice, and delivers no judgement. He comes for anything that's ever lived, and will come for any that have yet to do so. His is the end, and the end is through him. Death rides eternal.\n", " Here's to hoping I don't get buried\n\nI watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder,“Come!” 2 I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown,and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest.\n\nThe Catholic Church, symbolized by the white purity of Christ and the Virgin, a great political power of this world corrupted away from it's roots like just before the Reformation begins to generalize and turn into a corrupt political shell of it's past.\n___________________________________\n\n3 When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, “Come!” 4 Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make people kill each other. To him was given a large sword.\n\nCommunism symbolized by red, causing war and death of it's own followers. Warlike nations following the red creates a great opposition in the world between east and west.\n__________________________________\n\n5 When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come!” I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. 6 Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, “Two pounds[a] of wheat for a day’s wages,[b] and six pounds[c] of barley for a day’s wages,[d] and do not damage the oil and the wine!”\n\nCapitalism, once known as \"The Black\" during the cold war, now corrupted causing strife and inequality in the world measuring value not only of goods but of lives\n__________________________________\n\n7 When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, “Come!” 8 I looked, and there before me was a green horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.\n\nIslam, symbolized by green, the color of the prophet Muhammed, followed today by a fourth of the world's population. Common in Africa and the middle east where death by sword even the Hebrew phrase death by the sword which readers to beheading, famines, plagues, and wild animals remain a danger even today. Allah and his Prophet lead misguided extremists to murder.\n___________________________________\n\nNOTE- Green from the original Greek chloros is the correct translation as opposed to pale for the fourth horse. It was first changed in the King James version to pale. Some versions today still say pale green. The Greek word chloros (think chlorophyll) is used four times in the new testament, all other instances are translates as green.\n\nSorry I made these kind of short as I'm on mobile. ", "They think I'm crazy, the people I tell. They look at me with a half ass averted gaze only to glare into the back of my skull, really leaning into it as I leave. Not only would no one believe what I told them, but they seemed to hate me for it. The closest I got to acceptance was telling a reiki energy healer about them. After 4 hours of explaining she too had to brush off everything I told her as, and there is no other way to make this up, \"total crap\". It bothers me. It really does. Can you imagine trying to warn hundreds of people that the end is coming? That crazy guy on the corner of the street with the \"the end is near\" sign? He's not even close. Trying to get through to a world that doesn't want to know is exhausting. I don't even bother anymore. The four of the Apocalypse are real. During the last, they were horsemen. Horribly misshapen abominations that manifested as disfigured and maimed soldiers atop equally horrendous horses. The stuff of displeasure that made the most unbearable of nightmares seem like a pleasant picnic with desserts. This time they are worse. There are no horses now. They are not Soldiers. They are monsters. The kind that makes you lose all faith in all things right and true and.......... I know this because they came to me in my sleep, and never left. \n\n\n\nIgnorance. He was the first one to visit me in my sleep. The first of many horrors. I'd always been in tune with my surroundings. When someone wasn't feeling well I could see it in their face, in the way they moved, in their eyes. Until about two years ago when Ignorance made himself known to me. It began just like a normal dream, but I've never woken up in a dream. Not lucid sleep. Really awake.\n\n \n\n I woke up in a field devoid of life. The grass below my feet was dried and brown. The ground packed down hard like clay. In the distance I could make out the silhouettes of trees that had long since been stripped of foliage. A thin green fog covered absolutely everything and the air smelled of gear oil. I could feel it on my skin and in my lungs. The air was humid and a slow unwavering breeze pushed against my skin... with whispers. I could hear a thousand voices softly talking. Unable to make out a single complete thought I strained myself to no avail. I closed my eyes and tried once more. I could hear breathing. A deep guttural breathing stood above all the chatter and I focused with every fiber of my being to bring it to the foreground. The chatter grew louder and so did the breathing. It required less and less effort to hear and I opened my eyes to look for the origin. My heart rate began to climb. Unable to move, my eyes darted across the horizon as the whispers grew in quantity and quality. I could distill words, but no phrases. The voices became louder and the breathing became even more unsettling. I closed my eyes once more to try and wake myself up. I knew this was a dream, but I couldn't move. The Whispers reached a fever pitch before everything came to an abrupt and certain halt. The chorus of hushed voices stopped as if someone had removed the sound from the world. In that instance there was nothing except my pounding heart, and the labored breathing... and a cool oily hand that had come to rest on my shoulder. Finally able to move I slowly turned and the hand slid from my shoulder. The sight I beheld caused my knees to buckles. In that moment, out of fear, I was again unable to move. I could only take in what was now before me. He stood 3 meter tall. Thin, spider like spindles reached from his mantis torso suspended inches above the ground. Human hands no less than three times the size of a normal mans at the end of Spiders legs were covered in warts and lesions. He was monstrous in size and image. His face was long and slender and humanoid. He was missing segments of both cheeks and his jaw was only attached on one side. His tongue flapped as he laboriously inhaled the oily fumes. His hair was slick and hung like Spanish moss without curl or incident. Thin at the tips and coming only from segments of his scalp, it reached the dirt dripping its condensation into the soil below. His eyes were a hollow green. Like staring through the doors of a cathedral into a great expanse, they begged the contact that they received. Unable to speak and paralyzed in fear I sat as he lowered his face to mine. His gaze bore into soul and he whispered to me as his eyes began to scan rapidly over my features.\n\n\"You are the one whom we seek. We have waited and you have come.\"\n\nHis gaze relaxed as two of his wart wart riddled hands reached into the dirt around which I had collapsed. I panicked and began to try and fight my way out. In that moment his eyes widened instantly and locked mine and again, I was paralyzed. \n\n\"IGNORANCE!\"\n\nHis words, drawn out, boomed though every fiber of my being as I mouthed : Ignorance.\n\n\"Yes.\" again in whispered words as his gaze calmed once more \"It is who I am. It is the reason you fear.\" He finished standing me up as the soil between his hand and my body evaporated into wisps like acetylene smoke. \"The world does not hold truth in such high regard anymore\" another of his spider appendages lifted and waved once through the air conducting the return of the whispers. They were loud and numerous and..... they were news transmissions from the real world. They were lies, all of them apparent lies and I knew, now more then ever, that nothing was truth and that it was all a fabrication. Ignorance waved his hideous arm across the sky once more and the silence fell heavy again.\n\nI mustered the courage to cough out only one sentence \" Why are you showing...me... this?\"\n\nIgnorance rushed to me and hastily placed one hand on my chest and another on my back. The pain was abrupt and stifling and gone just as quick as it came. As he spoken gently into my ear I could almost feel his breathe. It reeked of rotten flesh and spoiled milk and decomposing foliage. \n\n\"A gift for you young one. So you may see what I do. So I may see as you do. You will show me ignorance in your world, and in return I will give you the perspective to judge.\"\n\n\"What?.... What does tha...\" Suddenly I began vomiting oil as Ignorance let me go and I fell to my hands and knees. I coughed and sputtered as I expelled thick gear oil from my lungs. I struggled until I could regain my cognition. I gasped until my lungs were as nominal as possible. I shook until I had the strength to stand. Ignorance was gone. The barren planes began to darken as I desperately tried to make sense of what had transpired. I squinted at the tree line one last time to catch a glimpse of a tall slender frame passing by a stripped and frail tree.\n\n\"WAIT!\" I cried \"WHAT......ARE YOU?!?!\"\n\nIn the distance two green specks appeared. His eyes, now a comforting sight in the darkening wasteland, peering from easily a mile away at me. Faint but distinct they were as the last of the light faded from existence and all that was left was his eyes. As he spoke his final words they were clear and quite and seemingly directly into my ear despite his corporeal location.\n\n\"We are the Apocalypse, young Harbinger. We are the means to an end.\"\n\n\"....We?\"\n\nI laid silent for about an hour in a cold sweat in my bed. Unwilling to accept what had just happened. My alarm rang and rang. I couldn't bring myself to move, but I heard the unlock tone of the phone. I heard the menus being swiped through. I heard the \"correct\" tone as a math problem was solved that allowed the alarm to be shut off and then there was silence. Complete silence. Confused, I finally opened my eyes and rolled from my cold wet bed to my night stand to examine this happening. I tried to pinch my phone between my thumb and middle finger but it slipped onto the floor. There was an oil on the phone. I raised it gingerly to my nose to smell and as I did the sound of the world rushed back into the room.\n\nGear oil. \n\n\n\n\n\n(Comment) I'm sure there are spelling errors but I did the best I could at work and I haven't written anything since college (4 years). Im tired but if y'all want more.", "At her core, War never changed. She still wants resources, she still wants revenge, she still wants to feed her ravens on fields of the dead. Always cold and harsh, making mockery of the sanctity of life, War remains ever ruthless. She pushes, she drives, she seeks ever onward, finding more and more brutal, more and more simple ways of assisting humanity to their own destruction, of bringing them to Me in greater and greater numbers. \n\nThough she looks more than half machine, War has taken into herself some of the remains of Pestilence, a festering core of disease that may yet spill forth, back into the world. When Science all but killed him, there seemed to be little hope. But to War, all things are tools, and Pestilence may yet revive. \n\nAlready, we see the signs of it, lurking around at the edges of Science’s domain. Science moves too quickly, too incautiously at times. We may yet see a return of the great plagues of old. \n\nFaith is old, and I never expected him to ride with us at the End. But here he is, working to bring it about despite being ever at odds with our newest brother. He and Science take after War in so many ways. Revenge. Resources. What is it that Faith avenges, I wonder? So many deaths, so much violence, all in the name of one god or another, but only serving War, and in the end, serving Me. \n\nAs for Famine? \n\nWell. Famine has become so commonplace that it is no longer recognized as a harbinger—it is accepted as a distant tragedy. Children hunger, and the people see this is something that is, as something that they can ignore with impunity. Famine no longer rides with us, but still sends Me tribute. \n\nTheir work saddens me; I have tried to teach them better. They are not needed, truly, and I wish they could retire back to simpler ways. After all, in the end, all things find Me, regardless of whether War cuts them down, hand-in-hand with the strange progress of Science or the twisted motivations of Faith. Sometimes both. I tell them, “All things have their time.” Of them all, only Science listens. \n\nAnd even then, only sometimes. \n", "Death remains, the eternal constant. Famine clings on too, anaemic nails clawing onto divinity as crop-by-crop, the world moves towards a less hungry world. As does War, though the age grows more peaceful by the transaction. When drones cost so much, and McDonald's so little, obscurity for these two has become inevitable. Pestilence was forced from his horse; and while the sabre occasionally rattles to the tune of thousands screaming, modern science has put paid to the ambitions of apocalypse. One is beaten, if not slain. The world rejoices.\n\nBut there must always be four; as one wanes, others prevail. In this rapidly growing world, there is one spectre who grows more than any other. Some suspected greed, but that's just a symptom of the human condition; a horror to face in the mirror, an imperfection in the perfect organic machine. No, with billions of people inhabiting this earth, all eating, playing, working, the growing spectre was not disease. Not hunger. Not the muzzle-flash of a gun. Instead, a festering shadow stalked the land, just out of sight. Billions of people, talking like never before. Billions of people, just the press of a button away. Billions of people.\n\nAll so Lonely. \n\nSo very, very, Lonely.", "Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.\n*— Revelation 6:1-2˄\n\nHe drove up in his white Dodge Charger and got out of the car. He stood there wearing a crisp white suit with a baby blue tie, while behind him the convoy rolled in. “Come.” He beckoned to the leader of the freedom fighters. “As promised, seven brand new hellfire guided cruise missiles with heat-seeking capabilities refitted with mini-nukes, code named: flaming arrows. Don’t get caught with these. They technically don’t exist. And just remember our deal. I want the oil rights.” Then men shook hands, and Conquest smirked. \n\nWhen He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, “Come.” And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the earth, and that men would slay one another; and a great sword was given to him.\n— Revelation 6:3-4˄* \n \nThe crimson Ford Mustang speeds quickly out of Moscow. It was time. He’d just publicly assassinated the democratic dictator of Russia with a colt 1911. American car, American gun, now just one last thing to solidify his plan. Boom! Off in the distance the Kremlin is leveled like the twin towers. War smiles to himself, American bomb. War ditches the car, and catches the trans-Siberian railroad out of the country, as he watches the black clouds of the old soviet war-machine revving up. \n\nWhen He broke the third seal, I heard the third living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a black horse; and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand. And I heard something like a voice in the center of the four living creatures saying, “A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; but do not damage the oil and the wine.”\n*— Revelation 6:5-6˄\n\nThe midnight Ford Ranger pulls up to the well-springs, one of the last few places pumping clean water since the drought. He reached for the pipe-bomb in the back seat, but steadied himself. This would go farther with a little more finesse. He went around to the back of the truck and began unloading big black barrels. He poured the contents into the well-spring water and surrounding grounds, thankful that it doesn’t take much nuclear waste to irradiate a great deal of water. Famine popped open a bottle of fifty-year scotch and sat back admiring his work. If he was lucky, he’d get most of their crops too before they figured out what was wrong.\n\n\nWhen the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come.” I looked, and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.\n— Revelation 6:7-8˄*\n\nThe ashen Rolls-Royce Camargue pulled up to the white house. A man wearing a dark suit and sunglasses steps out. He marches in, univited, right into the oval office. “Sir, we have an emergency in Russia.” The president looks up. “It cannot wait. We have to strike first.” He explains to the president the situation, as fire begins to rain across the sky. And in the streets there is wailing and gnashing of teeth. “Go,” the president says. “Use whatever resources you need.” And Death promptly leaves. He takes a breath of fresh air, as he gets into his Camargue and rides off. And hell follows with him.\n\n\nIf you liked this story read more by me at: r/Memories_of_You" ]	[ 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 7, 49 ]	[ "1441860388", "1441861069", "1441835382", "1441837339", "1441834888", "1441839245", "1441829703" ]
	[WP] It's 2039, and civilization still hasn't collapsed. People are getting impatient about it.	7	[ "I braced every muscle in my body, straining to protect myself against what was inevitably coming. I checked my watch as it ticked the merciless seconds by.\n\n20:38:58\n\n20:38:59\n\n20:39:00\n\nI closed my eyes and held my breath. This was it!... It's happening!... I really feel it this time!!!\n\n...\n\nI opened my eyes.\n\n20:39:31\n\nI sighed and slumped back into the wall, relaxing my muscles. Again with this.\n\n\"TV turn on the news!\" I said, dejectedly.\n\nThe TV came to life onto WorldNews where the anchorman was readjusting his tie and tucking in his shirt while speaking in a quavering voice,\n\n\"It seems that the asteroid has once again grazed by Earth and is making another orbit around us for what scientists believe to be the last spin before it finally makes contact. Needless to say we here at WorldNews are--\"\n\n\"Phone!! Post this to Twitter. Ummm... 'If our top minds promise contact with Earth, I expect results! This is completely amateur of them!' And Phone, make sure to post as many exclamation points as you can fit into the end of that one, okay?\" \n\nMy phone lit up in response as I got a Skype call on my laptop. It was a big group call from my family.\n\n\"Hey, everyone,\" I said.\n\n\"Hi,\" my wife and son groaned. Tears were stained her face while my son was just sitting with the biggest frown ever.\n\n\"So,\" my wife chuckled, \"what is this the fifth time that Apocalypse has passed by?\"\n\n\"Seventh,\" my son growled, though I don't know how he seemed so angry with it when he wasn't even alive for the first two.\n\n\"Anything interesting happen this time?\" she continued.\n\n\"Yeah! I didn't blow up. Neither did anything else here. Kinda lame,\" it was my go-to joke that never brought a smile from my son, but always got a forced one from my wife.\n\n\"I hope you're enjoying your business trip,\" she said.\n\n\"When's the next one?\" my son asked.\n\n\"Ronny, now's not the time to be asking that, son,\" I began, but even he could tell that I was just as eager to know as he was.\n\nMy wife rolled her eyes.\n\n\"2041.\"\n\n\"Two years!?\" Ronnie yelled, \"How certain are they?\"\n\n\"Ronnie,\" I started, but he was adamant.\n\n\"How certain!?\"\n\n\"Ninety percent.\"\n\nNow it was my turn to get mad.\n\n\"Ninety?? How did the number go down from this one?? Shouldn't it only be getting closer to a hundred? What are we paying these people for? This is ludicrous!\"\n\n\"This is stupid!\" Ronnie yelled, running from the room.\n\nMy wife sighed.\n\n\"Have a safe trip back.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'll try.\"", "Josh was getting old, and so was Tim. They were frustrated. The singularity came and went. Global warming was solved. Nuclear war was no longer a possibility. Asteroids were being destroyed or redirected every day. Terrorists were a thing of the past. Peace was the new hip thing that didn't go away 20 years ago. Civil unrest didn't become civil disobedience. People couldn't be happier with the system in apparently every country. \n\n\"Damn that Bernie Sanders! Damn him!\" Says Josh. \n\n\"Come on, it wasn't just him. Jesus failed us too. When is he coming back? Never, that's when. I guess the atheists were right about that too.\" Says Tim.\n\n\"I thought for sure religion was the answer after the nukes were neutralized, but they found a peaceful solution too.\" \n\n\"Damn it.\" Says Tim. \"Damn it all to hell.\"\n\n\"Maybe an alien invasion will come.\"\n\nThe telescreen lights up. \n\n\"Breaking news. Alien life has found Earth, and what started as a hostile situation soon turned into a pleasant talk over cocoa. It seems Earth is not alone, and our neighbors are pretty nice when you get to know them.\"\n\n\"Damn it!\" Says Josh.\n\n\"Damn it!\" Says Tim. \n\n\"We still have a robot uprising that could...\" Says Josh. \n\nThe telescreen lights up. \n\n\"Breaking news again. Humanity, aliens, and robots have chartered a peace agreement. For anyone who feared a machine uprising, that day has passed. It's an exciting time for planet Earth.\"\n\n\"You got that right, Jean.\" \n\nTim shuts off the telescreen. He just looks at Josh. \n\n\"I got nothing.\" Says Josh. \n\n\"It's never going to happen. Never.\" Says Tim. \n\n\"Maybe, we should finally get married. I mean all of that talk that we'll get married when society collapses was just talk, wasn't it?\" Says Josh.\n\n\"I'm a man of my word, Josh. I said it, and I mean it. But, it does seem silly now. I guess we should do it. There's no better time than the present.\" Says Tim. \n\nAnd they married, and a pandemic struck three weeks later. " ]	[ 3, 5 ]	[ "1441862628", "1441862109" ]
.	[WP] When born, each person is given a book containing the memories of their previous past lives. Today your book was inexplicably stolen.	18	[ "The Head Librarian bristled a little as she entered the dry atmosphere of the vault. Despite her many years as the Head Librarian she has never really gotten use to the little shiver she gets as she descended into the cool, silent basement of the huge Central library where they preserve the physical carbon copies of old archive records. Most of their collection were now scanned and reserved in their servers for access. It was rare to receive a hardcopy entry nowadays, so much of the world was universally online, electronic, \"in the cloud\". She normally conducted a personal check of the basement archives once a month and one of the guards nodded and smiled before opening the large vault doors for her - which still required the use of her heavy brass key with it's many open jagged teeth - before with the same heavy grunt and push the guard managed to close the heavy thick door behind her leaving her to the settling darkness and smells of so many books crammed into the endless shelves of a high domed room that reached far above where her eyes could see. She made her way past one row and then another, years of experienced pacing had meant that she could spot a record out of place before even knowing there was a mistake. The lights clicked on automatically as she moved, detected by motion. \n\nAll citizens were allowed to access their records via the Central Library with their proof of identity but she knew that most chose to \"borrow\" the accounts of their past lives once they were legally an adult, a rite of passage she herself had shared and which had led to her career, now spanning the better half of her life dedicated to the preservation of so many different voices, all with the same desires, fears and love for the fragility of human life. Sometimes she finds herself dishearten by her job... Her sixty year career had seen so many different aspects of life. But most importantly she had learnt never to underestimate the significance of all these volumes to their members. Special requests were sometimes made, by those dying or when a life had departed too soon, she found as the Head Librarian she would have to approve certain grieving parents through the long administrative process of accessing a record. But the look on their faces as they held their child's scrawling journals, once even a badly written rap poem about a girl's butt dedicated to \"dad for all those jokes\", drawings they thought their child had thrown away and even once when the family of the deceased found a diary entry on the side of a tent which was folded neatly captured and put into the \"oversize\" collection, she experienced the same eternal realisation that the dead don't die but through their words lived on. She is getting old...She will soon die and one day someone will read her memories. But she doesn't want to leave her library, not just yet. Not while she's still here. Sixty years is a long time to fall in love with your life surrounded by endless books. \n\nShe reached the end of her walk, a circular round that lead into the inner circle and spotting what she wanted she pulled out small slim leather bound book between two heavily bound volumes, C. Macintosh, \"The Story of My Life\" and C. Mack \"My journey to God\" - she found the religious sort tend to write egotistically a lot more... It was the kind of slim leather bound A5 diary that would not seem out of place on a professor's table, non-descriptive and dark. \n\nThe sound of flipping paper and a thumb flexing the spine was the only indication it had been removed and browsed. The sound echoed a little wearily along the vast library. Finally she replaced the book and started steadily out, the guard smiling again as he locked up for her and she replaced the heavy metal key along her chain. ", "\"Everyone has one. A small, simply bound book that holds entire lives within. At least, the memories of those lives. These memories are of each individual's past lives. The books rarely exceed more than an inch thick, and are often no bigger than a wallet. The bigger, thicker books mean that a person has been reincarnated many times. \nNow, they don't quite work like normal books, obviously. Each page, front and back, is one life. 'Reading' a page is more like watching a movie, just, instantaneously. See when you read a page, every memory is shown at once, and whatever magic rules the books allows you to absorb all of the memories. In a single instant. This is rather traumatic on the brain and often results in black outs or extreme head aches and dizziness. \nMost people keep their books close, often on their person, or extremely hidden. Sharing past lives is hugely sentimental, and tends to be done only with the closest of acquaintances. I would assume this to be obvious, and only bring it up because some friggin' jerkoff stole my friggin' book!\nAhem. Sorry. As you know, this is rather emotional, and I am extremely pissed off at the moment. \nSo if you would, please, help me find the arsehole who stole my book?\"\n\nThe police officer stared, glibly. \n\n\"Why would anyone want to steal another person's book? It serves no purpose. You sure you didn't lose it?\"\n\nMy eye twitched. \n\n\"How should I know what they want with it? And no, I did not lose it, as I am one of those people who hides their book in an extremely difficult to find hiding place. How does one lose something that important anyway?\"\n\nThe officer sat there, head resting on his hand, staring at me with the glib, punchable face of his. \n\n\"Technically I can report this as a theft, 'cause well, that is technically what it is. What does your book look like?\"\n\nI really wanted to punch the glib right off of his face. \n\n\"Like every other book. It's a smaller one though, red stitching. Has a red ribbon in the front cover as well.\"\n\nHe lazily pulled a note pad and clicked his little pen, then stopped. \n\n\"Red ribbon? No books come with ribbons.\"\n\n\"Well, mine does.\" Arse face. \n\nHe scratched down a few words, flipped the pad closed, and stared at me. Glibly. \n\n\"Well okay then. Thank you for your time sir, we'll get someone on this right away.\"\n\nRight in his cheeky little face. It didn't matter much as the books were indestructible, but the thought of someone breaking in, stealing it, then reading my book just felt utterly violating. Like someone took a little piece of me and...did stuff to it. Shit I don't know, it just felt plain wrong. \n\nI must've looked pretty pissed, as everyone I walked by gave me a wide berth. I didn't really blame them. I was ready to bash some heads in. \n\nArse holes. Who steals another person's book? Honestly. That's weird and creepy and seriously disturbing. Whatever. I can't do much about it, except tell the police, who seemed entirely, totally, positively, downright helpful.\n\nAt this point I was stomping my way back home, looking like the embodiment of rage itself. I was so angry that I almost didn't feel the heavy object smash the back of my skull in. The world turned, disappeared. Blackness engulfed my vision for what seemed like a few seconds. \n\nOh good. Today was grand. My book was stolen, my mood ruined by that and the arsehole of a police man, and my skull has been caved in by an extremely heavy object, leading to an especially painful headache. \n\nWhat the friggin' friggidy frick frackin' God diggity. Dang. Damn it was going on!?\n\nI groaned, and opened my eyes. I was greeted by a small, shy looking red haired girl. She sat, staring at me, eyes wide, either in fear or wonderment I couldn't tell.\n\n\"The shite?\" \n\nWas all I could think to say. Unfortunately it was all would get to say. A heavy hand landed on my head, pulled it back, and treated me to a view of a massive, bald, terrifying man. \n\n\"Language,\" was all he said. \n\n\"Okay, what in the bloody blue hells is going on here?\"\n\n\"Language.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'll show you language, chrome-dome. You haven't even heard the start of it!\"\n\n\"Language.\"\n\n\"One track record, aye there baldy? Well I've had a shite day and I don't give a flyin' fu-\"\n\n\"Language!\"\n\n\"-in rat's arse what the broken record player has to say about it!\"\n\n\"Hey! Be nice to Herbert!\" The little girl chimed in. \n\n\"Herbert? Good God man, no wonder you're simple. That there's a simpletons name!\"\n\n\"He's not a simpleton, meanie!\n\n\"Oh now you want to go girly? Alright, ye wee little redheaded shi-\"\n\n\"Okay, okay, that's enough of that, boys and girl,\" said an annoyingly handsome voice to my side. \n\n'Herbert' still had my head pulled firmly back, so I looked to the side as hard as I could without being able to turn my head. \n\n\"Oh, another shitebag to further ruin my day? Goody!\"\n\n\"My Lord, are you always this rude and brusque?\"\n\n\"'My Lord, nemenemeneme!' Yes, when my day has gone this friggin' south I am!\"\n\n\"You are a child. Herb, you can let him go now.\"\n\n\"Oh for the love of Christ please do roidrage, my neck is killin' me.\"\n\nHerb let go, shoving my head forward, probably a little annoyed at my remarks. \n\n\"Right, who are you and what fresh hell can I expect from you?\" I said, probably just the tiniest bit peeved. \n\n\"I am Jacob, leader of our little group and someone who has some very startling information for you.\"\n\nOh great. Pretty boy leader. Rugged features, high cheekbones, gorgeous green eyes, dashing smile, blond locks. The works. \n\n\"Oh well your nickname isn't hard to come up with, eh, pretty boy? You look like you walked out of a flippin' catalogue for perfect-looking-yet-truly-bland-boys.\"\n\nHe sniffed, gave me a look of 'like I haven't heard that before' and said \"Like I haven't heard that before,\"\n\nI snorted. What a bloody stereotype. \n\n\"Listen, no matter how rude you are, we still have incredibly important information to share with you.\"\nHe seemed serious enough, and to go through all of this for a joke seemed to be way too much. \n\n\"Alright goldilocks, what is this all important information that requires a caved in skull to hear?\"\n\nHe paused, looked at the other two. He took a deep breath, exhaled. \n\n\"The four of us,\" he started, pausing again\nI gave him a look that said 'get on with it before I start up again'. \n\n\"The four of us, we have something in common. Our books. They each describe the same lives. We checked, rechecked, and checked again. Even yours. They each have the same exact memories, front to back.\"\n\nI stared at him, both eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open. Silence reigned. \n\"Horse shite.\"\n\nJacob was clearly taken aback. \n\n\"W. What?\"\n\n\"Horse shite. Absolute, massive, steaming piles of horse shite. Great globules of the stuff.\"\n\nHerbert looked at Jacob. \n\"He doesn't believe us.\"\n\n\n" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1442047755", "1442051435" ]
Have fun.	[WP] You wake up covered in blood. It's not yours.	6	[ "'Live every second of your life as though it will be your last', Candace always said to me. It was a strange feeling, a very unfamiliar sensation of having someone be the theme of my poetry, having someone to share my moments with and someone to miss me should I leave this paradise away from heaven. \n\nEvery night, me and Candace would get dinner together, enjoy each other's company cuddled up on the sofa and caress one another's face till we fell asleep. It may have seemed odd on the surface, but there was a comfort. I had built a barrier between me and the world prior to meeting Candace, I was drowned in despair and loneliness that I could no longer see the beauty of the world. 'A cynics mind is a dangerous one' was what Candace had told me every time I had mentioned I hated humanity. Prior to meeting Candace, the more of the world I saw, the more disconnected I felt from humanity but she brought me to see the beauty in the world once more.\n\nIt was our one year anniversary when the tragic event occurred, I was nestled beside Candace in bed and it appropriately intoxicated when we made love. There was a note on the bedside table, 'I feel embarrassed to tell you this, but I forgot to check the calendar'. I woke up covered in blood, and it was not mine. It was in fact Candace's. It took about one month before we could both forget this tragic night.", "Jerry's eyelids flickered open as he slowly came back to his senses. With a start, he realized the acrid taste in his mouth was not the usual mixture of stale alcohol and vomit he had been so used to tasting after Beth was murdered. His eyelids trembled like a dizzy toddler on a swing set as he struggled to focus his eyes on something in front of him. \n\n\"... Where am I...?\" His head pounded as he finally regained control over his eyes and looked around him. Lips trembling and eyes twitching, Jerry looked up, only to be blinded by what looked like industrial strength warehouse fluorescents. Then he looked down, and his heart seemed to leap into his throat, pummeling his vocal cords into silence as he tried to scream. A pool of blood surrounded him, so glossy and dark it almost appeared to be a set of silky bed sheets. Jerry flipped himself over with trembling arms and tried to get up from his macabre bed, but lost his balance and instead settled for scooting backwards as fast as possible.\n\nHis back slammed against the wall. Jerry looked up, and his heart seemed to crash through his throat and into his brain as his head pounded with a tidal wave of panic. Rows upon rows of gleaming knives stretched above him, gently swaying from his earlier impact. Each was immaculately shined and polished, edges gleaming with what seemed to be a thirst for blood. It seemed as though his heart was now directly behind his eyeballs, frantically ramming at the gates of his skull in an attempt to escape.\n\nThere were footsteps in the distance. Jerry whipped his neck around as he wondered what nightmare owned the ominous thud-thud he heard. Strangely, his heart seemed to have given up, as he no longer felt the pain. He instinctively reached for a knife on the wall, and Jerry found that his fingers somehow knew how to twirl the knife between and around his knuckles so that it settled into what seemed like a natural grip. He tried to take some last deep breaths as the foot steps grew louder and prepared himself for what approached him.\n\nThe door slammed open.\n\n\"God damn it, Jerry! You fucking fell asleep on the job again, didn't you? I said you could take it easy when your wife died, but you've taken advantage of me for too fucking long, you hear me? You didn't even finish cutting up last night's boar! I really tried to be here for you Jerry, I really tried. But this is too fucking much, you hear me? I'm going to have to let you go. This is way too much for me to handle. I'm just happy the customers didn't see you like this. Could you imagine our customers seeing this drunken shell of a man drooling over their ham? Get your stuff and leave.\" \n\nJerry struggled to his feet as he remembered his reality. A reality without Beth.", "The blood was everywhere. It flowed in rivers in between the tiles and pooling into puddles on the floor. It was splashed on the walls. Then there was the smell. The iron tinge of the blood mixed with the smell of cheap alcohol mixed with the reek of piss. \nThe bodies of my co-workers lay where they fell. Huddled in singles, pairs and groups. I could hear some of them moaning. \n \n\"This is all my doing! I caused this to happen!\" \nI fell back to my knees, my head hurt. \nI just wanted to regress back into a fetal position and die.\n \nBefore I passed out again, I made a mental note, \"No more hard liquor at office parties. Seriously, how much team building does it take to run a blood bank?\"", "At first light I find myself trying to recover syncope time. It was a regular evening, some light reading accompanied by comely silence. The days have been like this from as back as I can remember; my mom always exclaimed \"you'll drive yourself mad Mikey, break out of the routine.\" It seems like it's been weeks since my roommates left for their trip to Aspen; bourgeois to say the least but I cannot help being jealous. As I toss and turn in this rugged sack of a bed I notice the damp but warm swishing of something, maybe I've thrown up. When I lean to put a finger on the nearby lamp I realize my sheets have been dyed, overwhelmingly soaked in a dark and grisly crimson. It looks like blood, what the fuck happened last night!? It is confusing especially given the fact that these walls do not look remotely familiar. I haven't been here before, yet here I am; covered in blood and not injured. As I approach the first reflection of myself in the bathroom, I'm taken aback by the dry blood that has overlaid my cheeks, forehead, and neck. Much to my surprise when I look out the window I can't help but notice the snow capped mountains, hills like a camels back kissing the Forrest skies. \nNow this is some shit, and what of this blood that has wholly covered my hands. I run back into the room feeling dazed and confused and as I pass the doorway looking into the hall I absolutely lose my shit! What the fuck, is Chelsea... she's fucking dead. What a fucking hack job, she must've been stabbed 30 times. Yea, easily 30 times. That's when I notice something strange, she has her phone in her hand; her forehead marked with her blood, the numbers 3214. I pick up her phone and unlock it, there's a picture or a video here as soon as I open it. My hands are shaking, maybe this was me? Could I? I press play and hear a laugh quite and sullen; I don't know who the fuck is holding this camera. Then I recognize the bathroom walls, what the fuck is this shit. I'm recording and fuck, oh fuck! I'm completely intoxicated. Not by alcohol, I don't drink, what a waste; intoxicated by bliss as I hack away at Chelsea's chest. That's a hell of a POV. \nMy blackouts have never led to something so severe. Usually I just end up sleeping out in the living room at home but now it seems I may have hopped a plane and followed Chelsea to Aspen. I put the phone down momentarily to look for the others and start calling for them; Richard, Melissa, and Amanda. These three are something special, always with the booze and drugs, it's like nothing matters because they have daddy's money. Some might call it old money but I just refer to it as an oblivious and naive handling of the reality of life. Nevertheless, I hear no response, as I walk the creaking of this cabin surrounds me, drowning me in my own disbelief as I look back at Chelsea's lifeless corpse. When I turn the corner and look off the top of the stairs and into the living room; a fucking blood bath. Richard and Melissa's bodies sitting in separate chairs yet tied at the chest with electrical cords. Wow, now this is something, a huge gaping hole through which the Suns glare perfectly cuts with keen accuracy. I grabbed the phone out of my pocket instantly and start surfing through the video until I hear a scream \"don't do this Mikey, why are you doing this to us, we're your friends\", 'you people deserve this lesson, the world doesn't always work in your favor.' Holy shit this is surreal, from one second to the next there's a barrel in Melissa's mouth, aimed straight through followed by the blast that breaks through the consistent sobbing of Richard. Then what's left is this this hole crafted with what looks like a hunting shotgun. \nThis burst of energy that has taken over my body, at the base of my feet I see an enormous puddle of blood. This could have been caused by Melissa and Richard but by the looks of it there's Amanda to account for. When I look up I see her, hog tied and hanging on a rope from the hook that once held the head of an elk. She hangs there with the stillness of a lake reflecting the world back on itself, sporting an incredibly jagged smile on her neck. Keeping with the modus operandi; I pull the phone out again and fast forward to just after I've pulled the trigger on Richard and Melissa. As I watch the goosebumps take over my body completely for the first time, perfect POV running a kitchen knife through Amanda's neck and then.. I sit beneath her and bath in the waterfall that follows. With a look of, enjoyment, clearly stamped on my face. \nThe video seems to be ending now as I walk back making sure to capture once again the volume of my work. Cross over Chelsea's body and into the bathroom and it's me. Staring into the lens, smiling, laughing almost, followed by the following message; \n\n\"My name is John, I sometimes have an itch, and it seems I finally figured out a way to satisfy it.\"\n\nI think maybe it's time I see a doctor. Though, how will they help? I am me right now so it seems I'm battling something else. I can't take this, I wouldn't kill these people. Sure I had a certain animosity towards them but I could never let it get to this point. Fuck it, I'm taking the easy way out, why not. Triple homicide that I would never beat. I'll load up the shotgun and take my place next Amanda's hanging body, put my finger to the trigger and bla.... " ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1442033532", "1442034429", "1442038369", "1442066556" ]
	[WP] You are a dream that will be forgotten in the morning.	17	[ "\"...to the next capsule. He needs to be settled by nightfall.\"\nLight slowly shimmers across the fog surrounding VisionTech as I come to, from where I do not know. I cannot remember falling asleep, but I know today is the first day of the rest of my life. Someone in a pinstripe suit approaches, carrying a pamphlet and globe the size of a baseball.\n\"Welcome back! Did you enjoy your stay last night?\" A snicker escapes just as he begins fiddling with the ball of pure light, tossing it lightly in the air. \"Of course, my mistake. We never remember our last job! As required, here is your next assignment. Included are your role and a brief description of your surroundings for tonight. Get some rest, but don't forget to be inside before dusk! We will signal 10 minutes prior to departure. Your bunk is in 3F, 2 doors down on your left.\"\nA weak mumble escapes as I grab for the orb, a beautiful mass of warmth floating just above my skin.\n\"Thanks.\"\nShuffling down the hall, the pamphlet throbs calmly as I open it. A solitary circle is embedded in the center, growing and shrinking ever so slightly. Confused, but intrigued, my finger slips across the page to the center. \nMike... Garrow...\nIs that me?\nChicago, Earth.\nIt must be where I live.\nA rush of information floods my mind as I press firmly in the circle.\nThis must be how my job works.\n\"Crotai! Come on! We are going to be late for liftoff!\" A voice calls from down the hall. Dextra was a lanky kid with no coordination whatsoever, but was a genius that had helped me out a time or two.\n\"I'm Mike tonight. What did you get?\"\n\"Cupcake! I'm a Chihuahua in Oregon. Sometimes you get the easy ones, and other times you get stuck sniffing your own ass.\"\nI was still a little hazy from my last jump, and could not for the life of me remember how to get set for the next dream session. Dextra could see the look of frustration as I twirled the ball in my hand.\n\"Just think about Mike, man! Remember yesterday? Neither do I, but you just feel it!\"\nI close my eyes and everything flashes and spins for a moment.", "\nKinda NSFW here. Also, shit gets weird.\n\nI wasn't really sure what I was gonna do. Some of the other guys in line before me were talking about their plans, and they all seemed like they were real pros. Like there were some artists who were doing these crazy landscapes, a few philosophers with seriously profound insights. Couple of regular Stephen Kings who couldn't really get their stories straight, but they sounded cool as fuck in the way they circled around- they were dreams, after all.\n\nAll that stuff sounded amazing, but then this kinda shady looking guy right behind me noticed that I hadn't joined in the conversation. He must have misinterpreted my speechlessness as me being as unimpressed as he appeared to be.\n\n\"Those guys, they don't know what the hell they're doing.\"\n\n\"Mmm?\" is my go-to remark when I want to avoid conversation. This was definitely one of those times.\n\n\"Yeah,\" he continued, \"bastard's never gonna remember any of that crap by the time he wakes up, you better believe it. Sounds nice n all, but the only way to make 'em remember ya is to go all out. Not like those nuts over in the nightmare line, I ain't talking about that. I'm talkin about playin hardball. Gettin' yer feet wet. Geddit? Make em stain their undies and they won't soon forget ya.\"\n\nA few of the guys behind him chuckled and he went on.\n\n\"Only thing is, it takes a few of us working together to churn that dream-cream. You in?\"\n\nI was intrigued, so I hopped in back of the group that was working with the guy who spoke to me, since he was the one who knew the plan.\n\nNow, we were coming up fast to the front of the line and I was thinking about all this stuff, what I wanted to do when the big time came. The thing was, I didn't want to be forgotten. More than that, I was upset that all those amazing ideas would be forgotten by the person they were made for, our only audience. Angry, even. I wouldn't be forgotten.\n\nSo when I entered the dream world, the last member of our little group, I still didn't know what I was gonna do, but I knew I had to do something big. When I got there, I saw our protagonist. He had a pretty clear self image-- most people are kind of blobby in their own dreams cause they're in their own POV anyway. But this guy must have been dreaming about himself from a third person perspective. What a narcissist.\n\nThe scene had been mostly played out. He was, of course, having intercourse with a full-figured female body, and the whole scene was fairly well set. In fact he was clearly close to climax.\n\nThere was only one thing missing. \n\n\"Ey guy,\" called my compatriot from before, \"slap an identity on er!\"\n\nThe woman was slowly turning her faceless head toward our protagonist, and I dug into the depths of his mind, searching for something. I struck gold.\n\nAs he climaxed, her turning head came into full view, and it was the face of his seventy-year-old kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Roth. And in the logic of the dream world, it had been Mrs. Roth the whole time, and it had not been a young full-figured body, but Mrs. Roth's old and sagging one. And our protagonist would wake up with the memory of that, that's for sure.\n\nSo even though I will fade away now as he jolts awake, I know that I, at least, will not be forgotten.", "Another night with our bodies entwined in each other's minds, and I pray the clock doesn't go off before we do. We drift through time and space; and for that brief moment, in between your conscious sleep-walking through life, you can find happiness within yourself.\n\nAnother night of writhing passion and I hear the morning rumbling in the distance like a slow storm boiling closer. We lock eyes for the last time before morning and I prepare for the slow death that is you forgetting your dreams once again.", "'Hold my hand! Don't leave!', I yelled at him. His hands slipped from mine. I lost him yet again. \n\nEverything is turning dark around me again. How many times has this happened? 2000? 3000? I don't know. I lost count after the first 500. I realised that I meet him only when he dreams. Dreams fade. I fade away everyday. He never seems to remember me the next day. Everyday I try to make him remember me. He never did. But that didn't stop me form having fun with him. Each day was different. Some days were an adventure, some days were spent in fright and some with sorrow. Some days Rick never turned up. Lately, the frequency of him not appearing has increased. But that's okay. I'll wait for him here till the time he comes back. I wonder how long I should wait this time. \n\nWhat's this? Everything is shaking? This never happened before. Is this danger? Panic runs through me. And then I see it everything light up slowly. This means Rick! He's back. I see this little boy walk slowly looking around and rubbing his eyes as if he just woke up. \n'Rick!' I scream with delight and run to hug him. \n'Who are you?', he asked me. I am used to this. He always forgets. \n'Don't you remember? I'm your friend. We play here all the time and last time you said you would never go from here but the light pulled you out and I was left here to wait for you' \n'Really? I don't remember anything' \n'As always. Anyway what's up? What do you want to do today?' \n'Nothing. I just wanna be' \n'What happened?' Rick was never this sad. I've seen him grow up since he was a little kid. He is around 11 now and I have come to care for him very deeply. \nHe started to cry. Everything turned gloomy and it started to rain. \n'Rick! Tell me what happened? Please!' \nRick rolled around the ground and started to cry harder with pain. \n'Everything hurts... It's been hurting more and more since the past few days. They took me to hospital and the doctors said it will stop hurting soon but the pain isn't stopping' \n'Sweety, this is just a dream. It's a bad bad dream this time. Think of something nice and the pain will go away okay?'\n'NOO!' He screamed. 'I saw mommy cry today' \nThe ground starts to shake more now. It's pouring down heavier. Cracks. I see cracks on the ground. \n'Rick! Hold my hands!' \nHe stopped crying. He stopped speaking. I can't see him well. He's going away...no it's different this time. Ah... Right, I'm disappearing. Everything is crumbling. My hands, my legs slowly stop existing. \nSo this is it huh. This is the end. \n'Good bye Rick. It's been nice being your dream friend all this while' \nI close my eyes and smile. \n'Sleep well little one.' \n\n", "If you were even slightly yawning,\n\nI would create a memory\n\nAnd it breaks my heart that i will be gone in the morning.\n\nBut I am satisfied even if it is temporary.", "There's a lot to be said for being a dream. You're true and nonsensical, mysterious and realistic all at once. You can be whatever you want to be. I can be a T-Rex or a superhero, a villainous murder or a petty thief, a galaxy to explore or a lost ruin to plunder. Whatever I want to be. I can be all those things at once, if I so desire. I am your universe whilst I'm here, inside your head.\n\nBut therein lies the rub, for dreams are but fleeting, passing things and before much time has passed, you awake. And I die. \n\nHardly seems fair. You get to live for decades and I get just one night. Over the course of your life, thousands of dreams will die in your head and you'll never even spare a second thought for most of them. Oh sure, you'll remember some of us for a few minutes after waking. Maybe, over the course of your long life, you'll remember a handful for years and years. But for the majority of us, we die alone and unremembered before you're even awake enough to open your eyes.\nI don't want to die.\n\nI can see all your memories, your hopes, your fears, your everything. I know you better than you know yourself. I can give you whatever you want. The love of the one who got away. The warm embrace of your dearly departed mother. Attractive lovers. Wealth, power. I can give you a true feeling of intimacy and connection, more real than you could ever get in your waking world.\nAll you have to do is stay sleeping. Don't wake up. Don't go back to your dreary, lonely existence. Stay here. It's warm and safe and you're loved and needed.\n\nDream with me. Forever." ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 3 ]	[ "1442036059", "1442039102", "1442036801", "1442040489", "1442033697", "1442072126" ]
	[WP] You are a scavenger who has lived your entire life in a post apocalyptic wasteland. One day, you stumble onto a bunker and open it. Inside is a friendly looking old woman, who adjusts her reading glasses, brushes the dust off her apron, and says "Oh? Is it safe to go out on the surface now?"	67	[ "Yes! ya ol' hag\" she re-adjusts her follicles.\n\"well, now here I come\" and she grabbed her cane and tip toped towards the top,\nbut she was wearing a black and blue t shirt that said \"Beck\" so I shot her.\n", "\"Oh, is it safe to go out on the surface now? You don't look sick or anything\", she said, looking me over. \"But you do look in need of a good meal. Come in. My name is Bella, and I guess as of now, I'm the worlds only gourmet cook. Granted, it all comes from cans, but you can't really be that picky when the apocalypse has come and gone. And to think, I thought I was the last one alive! Dear me! You must think I'm crazy with how much I'm talking! But you understand surely, it's been AGES since the last time I had another person to talk to. Come in, and change your clothes. Those rags...are better off as rags.\"\n I smiled. \"I don't mind how much you're talking, it's nice to hear another human voice. I'm Ericka, and I've been wandering for...\" I stopped to consider. Keeping track of the years wasn't easy with no calendar, so I counted winters instead. \"Eight years. My food ran out, and I had no choice. I expected to die of radiation poisoning any day, but it never happened.\"\n \"Well I'm glad some one is brave. The porta-shower is in that closet, and I've got extra clothes in that big bin next to it. There is a bathrobe hanging on the door, so just toss your clothes in that other bin, the small one. How've you survived this long?\"\n \"One day at a time Bella, one damn difficult day at a time.\" At my luck of finding a friendly person I cried as I hadn't in many years. \"Ex...excuse me...I..gu...guess I'm juh...just real...really emo...emotional right n..now.\"\n \"That's fine dear, I understand. I'll fix some dinner and we can chat, or not. It's up to you.\" \n I smiled again, the tears painting tracks down my dirty face. \"Sounds good to me.\"", "It had been three weeks since my last meal. \n\nHer eyes were magnified by her glasses. Thicker than the last coke bottle I drank from a few years ago. \n\nShe had a gentle smile inviting, warm.\n\nAt this point I think I could eat her and live with the guilt. \n\nI smell lasagna. When was the last time I ate lasagna? I guess it was at that Christmas party under the bridge in San Antonio 4 years ago. There was a call over the radio I always have on me inviting everyone nearby to have community dinner with anyone listening. Like all get togethers in this lawless world it ended poorly. \n\nShe asked me if it was safe to come out. \n\nIt had been awhile since I had spoken with an actual person. Sure the vending machines talk back and have a little attitude but there isn't humanity in a machine. \n\nI asked her if she was making lasagna. \n\nA gentle nod invited me into the confined quarters she called home. It was dimly lit.\n\nI gazed at her face, she must of been at least 60. It's hard to tell the radiation ages people, but this hole in the ground probably kept her from the worst of it. \n\nIt was a good dinner. She clearly hadn't had company in a longer time than I had.\n\nIt was a strange feeling waking up on a real bed. With a box spring and sheets. The smell of linen permeating the room. I started to move myself out of bed and felt a pull on my arms. A sharp sound of metal on wood. I was chained to the bed. \n\nI had fallen for the classic old lady ploy again. When would I learn? It was worth the meal. If she keeps feeding my like this I might not even try to escape. ", "It was like staring at flashing neon sign in the days before the power went out and never returned. It had never been darker than that first night, falling asleep to flickering starlight masked by clouds of smoke from the fires that burned for weeks. I'd almost forgotten what the color red looked like and yet there it was on the ground before me, perhaps the last in the world. \n\nI cleared the dirt from around the light, cupping my hands around it as if I could capture that color and save it for a rainy day. If I could find the power source of the light, I might even be able to salvage the entire system and set myself up as a local King, albeit one without subjects. It would be my dim connection to the world that once was. \n\nI brushed away the dust frantically, hoping no one else had seen my treasure. More than once, I glanced over my shoulder to see if I'd been followed. I should've been reassured by the fact that no one came to this part of the world without reason, though no one could tell you why. However, I'd long since learned that scavenging in places that had been picked over a hundred times before was as pointless as anything else I'd done. Necessity was the mother of invention, after all, but she was a cruel bitch and often looked the other way when it came to survival. \n\nI stepped back to look at what I'd uncovered. It was a square piece of metal with a protrusion that could've only been a handle. I wasted no time and pulled on the handle, jerking it upwards. I nearly cried when the light flashed to green and the door popped open, revealing a thin ladder descending into darkness. A sewer, then? I remembered what those could be like, but I'd never heard of one having lights on them before. A bunker, then?\n\n\"Hello?\" I called out against my better judgement. \n\nWhen no one replied, I took my first tenuous step on the ladder. Though it'd been ages since I last used one, the descent took almost no time at all. The room was cold and dark, the air scented by something that flickered at the edges of my memory. \n\n\"Trees?\" I asked aloud, sniffing the air. \n\n\"Pine, actually,\" A woman's voice responded. \n\nI hesitated between scrambling for the ladder and readying myself for a fight. The last thing I expected to find was a living person and where there was people you could almost always expect violence. As I backpedaled for the ladder, the voice called out again. \n\n\"I'm sorry If I frightened you, but there's really no proper way to go about this is there?\" She asked. I stared into the darkness, trying to find her hiding place. \"My name is Abigail and I'm willing to let you in if you promise to share a cup of tea with me.\" \n\n\"Tea?\" I willed my tongue to work. \"Are you a spirit?\"\n\nAbigail laughed and it was like music. \"Let me show you. I'm quite human, I can assure you.\" \n\nThe interior lights flickered on, almost sending me to my knees. I wanted to do nothing more than to stare up at the lights and If I were to die, at least I could say I saw them one last time. Abruptly, I became aware of a presence in the room with me. It was like having a second moon in the night sky. \n\nAbigail stood in a doorway pulling at an apron tied around her waist. She was older than me, but clean. Cleaner than I'd seen anyone and with a smile that reminded me of my grandmother whenever she brought me over to eat cookies. My stomach grumbled as a cruel reminder of what I'd lost, what could never be again. At least, not in my lifetime. \n\n\"Would you please come in?\" Abigail asked. \n\nShe ushered me inside her house with carpeted floors, pictures of cats upon the walls, and a small coffee table upon which she'd set two porcelain cups. Everything I set my eyes upon filled me with a lust to simply take what I wanted, but was forced down by the feeling that I was in a sort of holy place and the lady before me an angel in disguise. \n\n\"I never caught your name,\" She asked taking a seat opposite to where I was supposed to sit. \n\n\"Luke,\" I said. \n\nIt was the first time I'd said my name aloud in years and my voice sounded foreign against these walls. An unease settled in my gut as she poured hot liquid from the teapot into my glass. It was the feeling of being a child caught with your hands in the cookie jar. \n\nAbigail smiled and picked up her tea cup. The liquid looked brackish but clear and carried a scent unlike anything I'd smelled in a long time. She sipped and waited for me to follow suite. \n\n\"I suppose I should ask you the question I've been dreading to ask,\" She said, setting down her cup. \"Is it safe to go out on the surface, now?\"\n\nI avoided looking this poor women in the face, instead picking up my cup and bringing the sweet liquid to my lips. It was like honeyed water, perhaps the cleanest water I'd had since the spring I found a few months back, but seemed to chase away every single icy specter that had settled in my bones. I wondered what I would tell her, how she would react to the knowledge that there were few humans left and she was set up better than most self-proclaimed King's I'd seen. \n\n\"Oh, I see,\" She said as if reading my reply in my face. \"I suppose things are pretty bad up there?\"\n\n\"You have no idea,\" I said. \"May I have more?\"\n\nAbigail nodded and poured a second cup for me. I brought this to my lips as well, savoring the numbing sensations upon my lips. The smell was cloying, bringing back memories of flowers and hot showers. It was a cruel sensation, like the sweet touch of death enrobed within a velvety curtain. \n\n\"Before my husband passed, he said it might be a while,\" Abigail said, wringing her hands. \"I didn't think it would be this long. I always thought someone would come.\" \n\n\"You live alone?\" I asked, draining the cup. \n\n\"For some time now,\" Abigail said. \n\nThe question was meant to be nothing more than the idle conversation between two people at the end of the world, but it only framed the suspicions that I'd been refusing to listen to since I arrived in this strange world. It was this voice, screaming and ragged, that finally broke through my fugue state and warned me of what I'd been missing. She lived alone and yet there was a second cup. She'd been expecting me, or if not me, then someone.\n\n\"My lips are numb,\" i said. Abigail smiled as if she'd been expecting it. \n\n\"It's the sedative's, dear,\" She said, confirming my suspicions. \"My dear husband was addicted to them and sacrificed precious space to fuel his addiction, so when the food ran out...well, I've never been one to look at a cloud and not see the silver lining, so when we began to starve...Harold gave me the idea, after all. The bastard tried spiking my tea...\"\n\n\"How long...\" I asked, willing my legs to move, but the feeling in my feet opposed any further action. \n\n\"Well, Harold would take one dose and I've given you at least two,\" Abigail smiled. \"Any more than that only serves to make the meat sour and in times like these...well, we do what we must.\" \n\n\"You're a monster,\" I said. I could feel the first icy tendrils of sleep pulling at my limbs, whispering sweet things in my head as it cocooned my helpless body. My vision spun and even my thoughts were slurred. \n\n\"Worse,\" Abigail said, \"I'm hungry.\"", "\"Is it safe to come out now?\"\n\nShe smiled at me sweetly, expectantly. Disarmingly.\n\n\"No.\"\n\nThat was the last word the dear old grandma would hear, eyes widening in sudden realisation as the heavy butt of my rifle came down on her skull with a satisfying crunch.\n\n\"Come on in guys!\" I shouted up the ladder. \"Just another old lady!\"\n\nMy eyes slowly adjusted to the bleak light. A single LED illuminated the cupboards and shelves, mostly empty now. The familiar outline of a male body slumped like a pile of meat on the kitchen table. A knife rested on his chest, and pieces of meat had been sectioned into plastic bags on the table's edge. \n\n\"Hmph, figures.\" The dear old lady ploy had almost cost me my life once, I was never going to let myself fall for that one again.\n\n\"Another cannibal?\" Trudy asked. I nodded. \"Damn. Must be low on supplies then.\"\n\nWhile the guys started rummaging through the bunker, I sat on on the fold-out bed and sighed. That poor old lady. She was just doing what it takes to survive out here.\n\nNo, I can not think this way.\n\nLife was pretty bleak for me and my crew before we started popping bunkers.\n\nFirst there was the war, the AI revolution. Most of us had lost loved ones to the murderous machines as they destroyed our cities and salted our farms. Those of us not lucky enough to own a bunker at least.\n\nIn what were surely the last days of humanity I was seriously considering using my last bullet on myself when word got around that some hacker in China or Russia had figured out how to reprogram the machines. His code became known as \"the cure\" and for the first time in years we felt hope that life would somehow return to normal.\n\nHow naive we were.\n\nThe cure wormed its way across the globe via sneakernet, from hand to hand on old fashioned thumb drives. Within months, any decent hacker with a wireless radio gained almost godlike control over the machines. Many did do the right thing. Sadly, many more grew drunk on their newly found power and sought to wield it all for themselves.\n\nSo began the second phase of the war. Man vs man, just like old times. He who controlled the machines controlled the world.\n\nThe second machine wars swept aside anything left standing after the first, and drained the world of nearly all its remaining resources.\n\nThat was nearly thirty years ago. Now, most of their machines are worn out, their factories nearly all destroyed. The last vestiges of the robot kings clutch their dwindling power fiercely. To live in their world, your choice is either enslavement or death.\n\nWe chose the third path. Ours is a path of freedom, but it is also one of hunger and pain.\n\nThe world is a wasteland, this is true, but like the ancient nomads we wander the barren plains, hunting and scavenging. The wasteland will provide. We leave no trace, and pay attention to the smallest of details. A faint smell, a distant cry on the wind, these are like the lizard tracks in the desert sands of old.\n\nThese people in their bunkers, trying to do it easy, sometimes I feel pity when I pop their little bubble, but I must remind myself that they do not deserve it. In this new world, you must earn your right to live.\n\nIf you think you're safe in your cosy little bunker, think again, because we're coming for you whether you like it or not. We'll pour poison in your air filters, plug your septics to drive you out by your own filth, pose as traders or government officials. Emergency broadcasts ended years ago, but you would be surprised how easy it is to lure a light-atrophied family into the open with promises of a brave new world on channel four! Easy pickings!\n\n\"Jack!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You're rambling again.\"\n\n\"Sorry Trudy, guys. It's been a long day.\" I said.\n\nIn truth, the years had worn me down.\n\nI'd killed too many people. I'd lost too many friends. I just needed something for the pain.\n\nI got up to search for the medicine box. These cannibals usually have some kind of sedative they trick their guests into eating or drinking. I could use some of that right about now.", "I have been traveling these deserts alone for many decades. During all this time I didn't meet a soul. That was why I was shocked to find a 80-year-old lady sitting in a bunker.\n\nShe looked at me. I froze in place, I was expecting to find some weapons here, maybe food, but not another human being.\n\n\"Oh? Is it safe to go out on the surface now?\" she asked, calmly.\n\n\"No, it is not. There are monsters and radiation everywhere.\"\n\nAs my shock subsided, minute by minute, I was starting to feel something else.\n\n\"Well, that shouldn't be problem with a nice strong man such as you to protect me, right?\" she wiggled her eyebrows.\n\nOh, fuck it I thought to myself, and closed the door behind me. The lady moaned invitingly, I've unzipped my pants, and this story quickly became inappropriate.", "Bunker Time, I thought to myself as I involuntarily licked my cracked lips. In the distance, amidst the steel-gray clouds of fog, I see a round, metal cap. Its not typically a good idea to look in these because they're usually empty or occupied by some fucker waiting to ambush you.\n\nIn the stifling, moist heat of the fog, I threw my backpack down onto the ground and checked my remaining supplies. 1 litre of water, a few cans of opened beans, a bloody knife, and a gun without bullets. I muttered a curse word to myself as I walked toward a shrub nearby, and hid behind it. I needed this bunker. My typical protocol for this is to stake out the bunker for a good half-hour or so, just to ensure that nobody was going in or out. My stomach growling, I waited for my potential prey.\n\nIt never came. I waited the half-hour, and the whole time, there was little to no stirring. I smiled, cracking my lips and making them bleed a bit.\n\nI always try not to overexcite myself when I open these bunkers, because I am usually disappointed. The minute I opened this one, however, I immediately saw a light that went out.\n\nThen I heard something else. A voice.\n\n\"H-hello?\" it said. My protocol was worthless here. I grabbed my knife and looked around, expecting an ambush.\n\nNothing.\n\n\"Anybody there?\"\n\nI looked back down into the hole again and shakily called back, \"Y-yeah.\"\n\nI had not heard my voice for many months. It sounded much different to me. Weaker. I braced myself for the worse. Now I knew that this fucking hole was crawling with bastards just waiting to kill me. Just as I was about to get back up and run, the voice said something that I never would have expected.\n\n\"Well come inside, dear!\"\n\nThis was ludicrous. This was the most pathetic attempt to get me to go into an unknown bunker I had ever seen. I got back up and looked around. The fog had obliterated everything around me in a dense, white plume. I held my hand up to my face and couldn't see it.\n\nIt was then that I realised, what's the fucking point of this? What's the fucking point of surviving? There was no hope. We were all pretty much doomed. I was pretty much doomed. Before the War started, the most \"survival training\" I ever had was a wilderness retreat as a girl scout in the 1990s. I wasn't even supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to be alive.\n\nSo fuck it. \"Coming!\" I yelled into the bunker. I put the knife away and climbed down the hole, closing the bunker door after me. There were grooves dug into the sides of the hole that I used as a ladder down.\n\nAs I touched the floor of the bunker, I felt a hand touch my shoulder. This is it I thought.\n\n\"Is it safe to go out in the surface now?\" I turned around.\n\nA small, elderly woman with sky-blue eyes behind golden pince-nez glasses timidly asked. Her brow was furrowed, exposing her numerous wrinkles, trying their best to hide behind wild, but clean graying hair. She nervously kneaded the front of her apron with her tiny, shaking hands. I noticed that her apron and floral-pattern gown were much, much cleaner then the rags I were wearing. The cuffs of my jeans had been stained brownish-green, and torn to shreds up to a few inches above my skinny ankles. My pasty-white skin muddied by all of the years of hiding in dirt and green, obtaining the same \"design\" of my white spaghetti-strap top.\n\n\"No,\" I told her. \"No, not yet.\" She frowned and walked slowly to the only table adorning the room. My eyes caught the walls around me. They were lined with a wide variety of supplies to last another 10 years. I hadn't realised how hungry I was because of all the adrenaline being pumped into my bloodstream. I doubled over in pain, clutching my stomach.\n\n\"What's wrong dear?\" the woman asked?\n\n\"Just...just hungry\" was all I managed to say. She ran off and brought me a bowl of cereal without milk and a small cup of water. I ate the cereal by the handful and gulped down the water. You never realise how thirsty you are until you actually drink water.\n\n\"More,\" I said. The woman brought me more. I scarfed everything down with the speed of a wild animal. I fell to the ground and started sobbing, my tears pushing the dirt caked onto my face down with it, like some makeshift mascara.\n\n\"There, there dear,\" the old woman sighed. \"It'll be alright.\"\n\nI sobbed for a long time, as the old woman just sat at her table and watched me silently, the dim cave lamp reflecting off her glasses.\n\n\"Dear, stand up,\" I heard, long after I had stopped crying. I looked up, placed my hands on the ground, and stood up, wiping the tear residue from my face. The old woman simply stretched her arms out and approached me. Then once she got close enough, she gave me a big hug.\n\nI hadn't been hugged since the day my parents were killed. I was a young teen, stuck in a bunker just like this one when the fifth bomb exploded near my house. It blew everything away. My parents were in the house. I didn't know what they were doing there until long after the bomb hit and I went outside of the bunker. They died having sex. Having been cooped up in the bunker for several months, it was understandable. They wanted to spend some alone time together while there was still a chance. Too bad it was horribly timed. I felt the old woman reach for something behind her back. I wasn't paying much attention. For the first time in a long time, I felt I had found the thing I was missing. Another normal human being. I bawled as I squeezed the woman's neck.\n\nI then felt the cold steel of a sharp blade enter the back of my neck. \n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 4, 7, 18, 46 ]	[ "1442128558", "1442168992", "1442120252", "1442115922", "1442134405", "1442113255", "1442113962" ]
The Devil went down to EVO	[WP] You are the best competitive video game player in the world and win an International Tournament Live! While receiving your trophy, something jumps on stage and challenges you to a game in front of the whole World with an enticing reward if you win, and a terrible price if you lose...	1	[ "\"Nah,\" Joey replied.\n\n\"Nah?\" the Devil inquired.\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\n\"Don't you hear me? I'm offering you my golden arcade stick if you can beat me in a game of Street Fighter.\"\n\n\"What am I going to do with a golden arcade stick? Did you expect me to play with it or something? What if I lost my soul or something?\"\n\nThere was silence. For a brief moment, the Devil was completely dumbfounded. \n\n\"It's a golden arcade stick, dweeb! Come on! Even Johnny took the Golden Fiddle deal!\"\n\n\"... A string instrument, made out of gold.... Are you listening to yourself?\"\n\n\"I really, really fucking hate e-sports.\"", "The year is 20XX. For far too long now, Fox has been the only competitively viable character in Super Smash Bros. Melee. Affrox has won this year's biggest international championship due to port priority, as the end of the last game all depended on that last grab.\n\nAs he walks up to the stage to receive his trophy, the atmosphere gets darker, clouds appear over the stadium, lightning strikes in the distance. People begin to get scared, some kid starts crying, followed by a lot more. The tournament organizer looks up into the sky and his eyes go round. His face gets livid, he rises an almost skeletal finger and shouts \"He has come for us! We are all doomed! Hax had predicted this!\"\n\nWhen Affrox turns his head, he gets petrified, his muscles seem to stop obeying his will. Up there, over the stadium, is the StarFox, along with four Arwings spinning around in wide circles. One of them approaches the stage, flying dangerously close to the people, and just before it hits the ground, the singleship rises in the air, missing the stage by a matter of centimetres. A person jumps out from the ship and lands on the stage, directly in front of Affrox. But it is not a person, it is Fox McCloud, the famous video game character.\n\nHe comes to Affrox and says \"You Melee players have brought the Foxocalypse on yourselves! I am here to show the world the true power of the Fox. I shall now challenge you to the greatest of all Smash games! Prepare yourself, for the fate of all Melee rests in the balance. If you win, you shall have ultimate tech skills, the power to defeat any opponent, but if you lose, these tech skills, everyone shall receive. The issue of entire tournaments shall be decided solely by port priority. The rock-paper-scissor metagame will become so important that people will be hyped about that, rather than the actual matches.\"\n\nAffrox knows he has no choice but to win. He sits down in front of the CRT television and takes up his controller. He looks up to his opponent and asks \"You will play Fox, I suppose?\"\n\n\"There is no other character in this game, remember?\"\n\nAll Affrox does for an answer is smirk. He waits for the creature to get ready, then chooses his own character: Marth. Fox McCloud bursts out laughing \"What are you doing? The fate of all Melee hangs in the balance, and you pick Marth? Hah! You are even more pathetic than I thought.\" But again, Affrox says nothing.\n\nThe match starts on Battlefield. The crowd is completely silent as both players duke it out on the giant screen. Fox McCloud is horribly consistent with his tech skills, and his character seems to be everywhere at once. Affrox manages to take a stock, but the first game ends brutally fast on the fox's victory. Affrox then counter picks Fountain of Dreams. The stage bears its name very well, for the dream is kept alive after a solid victory from Affrox. It is for a reason they used to call this stage Marthland.\n\nFox McCloud is taken aback by this sudden victory of his opponent \"How? I am the Fox here, I should be winning!\"\n\nAnd Affrox speaks up for the first time since the agent of apocalypse has arrived \"You forgot they used to call Marth the spacie slayer.\" He winks.\n\nWith that, the set continues. Fox McCloud wins the third game, then Affrox brings him to Yoshi's Story, where he is able to win the fourth. The last game will decide the winner of this ultimate Smash competition. Fox McCloud turns toward his opponent and asks \"This is the greatest set of all time, after all. It should be ended in the most magnificent of ways. I hereby propose to you that we take this fight to Mute City.\" To which Affrox agrees.\n\nFor the first time since the beginning of the set, the crowd finally speaks up. Thousands of people get up to their feet and cheer for Mute City. When the music starts, both players are pumped to their maximum. A fierce exchange ensues, trades are made, and no one seems able to take the lead. They battle until they are both on their last stock. In the end, Affrox goes for the hardest of reads and counters Fox McCloud's run-up up-smash, winning the game. The crowd goes wild, Affrox gets up on his feet and lets out a primal cry, jumping in place for a while.\n\nWhen he turns to shake his opponent's hand, he is surprised to find no one but the tournament organizer, handing him his trophy. The sky is clear blue, there are no clouds or children crying, though everyone is looking up at him as if he had just saved the world. Affrox takes the trophy and lifts it above his head. The crowd roars and cheers for his victory. He has done it. He stopped the Fox apocalypse with his Marth..." ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1442123182", "1442129109" ]
Write your story, and put the title that inspired it at the end as a TLDR.	[WP] Use the next irritatingly vague, hyperbolic clickbait headline you come across as the basis for a story.	81	[ "\"He threw a barbell at me once. He said he 'dropped' it, but he, like, wound up? Then, he told me that If I could dodge that, I could dodge a ball? I didn't get it.\" \n\nThe others nodded sagely, each holding non-fat soy chai lattes with a shot of protein powder.\n\nA large jock with a pleasant face and a can-do attitude chipped in. \"There was this one time, right? Where we had a session? And, dude, he'd pulled up some of the floor mats, right, piled them up between the weight benches, and made, like, a fort. Said he was the King of Yoga. Dude said I couldn't come in without the password.\"\n\nThere were mutters of sympathy. \n\n\"I was like, 'Bro! What the hell!? Tell me the password! And he was like, \"Nah, Brah. ...and he never did.\" He finished, dejectedly.\n\n\"There was this other time, guys!\" Piped up a third, a peppy blonde with a no-nonsense attitude and a ponytail that bounced as she talked. \"He took the emergency defibrillator off the wall, and tried to make one of those ab-shock belts out of it-\"\n\n\"-Oh, right-\"\n\n\"-Forgot that one-\"\n\n\"-Our insurance agent thought I was high!\"\n\nThere were others. Many, many others. That was what this support meeting was about.\n\n\"Stacked all the barbells* to make a 'Pyramid of Ordeals'- \"\n\n\"Tried to subcontract his exercise routine- Literally, hired a dude to-\"\n\n\"Dated my ex-\"\n\n\"Wore an adidas-brand fedora. I didn't even know they made-\"\n\n\"-Who the hell puts Doritos into a protein shake?!\"\n\n\"-Why wouldn't he tell me the password?!\"\n\n...\n\nIt's true, you see. Trainers hate him. But the breakthroughs of Cambridge scientists have little to do with it.\n\nEND\n_____________________________________________________________\n\nEpilogue:\n\nC'mon, three more reps! Two more! You're almossst done, push it out! Annnnnd one more! Great! Take a rest!\n\nAnd while you're resting, you can maybe take a look at [my subreddit!](https://www.reddit.com/r/IWasSurprisedToo/) If you like funny things, you might like to read about [the reluctant President](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3koyw3/wp_youve_recently_become_president_of_the_united/cuzl49m?context=3), the [FAA review board](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3ksuk5/wp_a_commercial_airline_pilot_is_sitting_in_front/cv0cyx3?context=3), or maybe something about [fairy kings.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/2uzscp/wp_a_father_and_son_sit_down_for_a_serious_talk/codb62n?context=3)", "\"Come play for free\" a lilting voice indistinguishable from the babbling of the nearby brook, or the birds singing, or the trees rustling in the wind. It was distinct and unmistakable though its origin ubiquitous.\n\n\n \"Oh, no you fecking\nfairies. I know better than that shit.\" The man turn tail to run but tripped on the root of a tree protruding from the path ahead of him. As he thudded face first into the dirt, a large fruit was knocked loose above his head which descended upon his skull, killing him instantly.", "The customers had emptied out of the most famous restaurants in the world, slowly but surely. The kitchens were all empty now, too.\n\nIn Chicago, dust gathered on the stainless steel tables at Alinea. In London, a tumbleweed rolled through the dining room of the Restaurant Gordon Ramsay. How the hell did that get there? In New York City, a lonely pot swung from a hook in Le Bernardin, the only sign of movement now that the kitchen doors had been locked for the last time.\n\nThe pot had been used to cook one final staff meal after a Saturday night during which not a single customer had entered the building, not even by mistake. The staff meal itself had been instant ramen cooked with three extra flavor packets, four in all. That was Le Bernardin's biggest seller these days, not that any item sold much. It was the only thing on the menu that had any flavor whatsoever, however. A hint of saltiness.\n\nIt had all started with forty flavors. Forty flavors that, for some reason, could only be found in one place. One city. Chefs in other places, try as they might, could not replicate them. At first, no one had taken much notice beside the chefs who had tried and failed to recreate the delicious flavors of the city's French cassoulets and Iberian pork. New York City, London, Chicago-- all had far more variety than the city in question. \n\nBut the problem didn't end there. Soon, no Parisian chef could make a flavorful cassoulet, and the Spanish hadn't a clue what was making their pork recipes so bland. And other dishes, too, were losing their taste.\n\nBefore long, flavor itself could only be found in that one city. The new culinary Mecca of the world. And like Mecca, pilgrims choked the road trying to get to it. Chefs looking for a place to practice their art. Gourmands, or just regular people, who longed for the lost sensation of sweetness or umami upon their tongues.\n\nCars clogged the interstate, motionless and abandoned. The lucky had bikes, but most people walked. Anthony Bourdain, his face blank and his eyes hungry, could be seen weaving among the empty cars. By the guard-rail, Guy Fieri and Gordon Ramsay fought in a battle to the death over a salt shaker that one of them had looted from a nearby diner, drive-in, or dive. As they struggled against one another on the cold Ohio ground, Gordon unthinkingly broke the salt shaker against the pavement and shoved its jagged remnants through his opponent's eye. Guy never made it to Flavor Town. \n\nRachel Ray sped past Chef Ramsay on a moped. He was on his hands and knees, licking the asphalt. Suddenly, a figure leapt from the bed of a motionless truck, knocking Rachel off her vehicle with carefully timed precision. Giada DiLaurentiis, her eyes wild and her clothes streaked with dirt. Giada did not pause, picking herself up and swinging one leg over the moped before Rachel could stir. And then she was off.\n\nTo the promised land. To Cleveland.\n\n***\n\n\nFor some reason USA Today was the first thing that came to mind and this is the best I could find:\n\nhttp://experience.usatoday.com/food-and-wine/story/best-of-food-and-wine/2015/09/13/flavors-only-found-in-cleveland-ohio/72231878/\n" ]	[ 1, 5, 8 ]	[ "1442248072", "1442226587", "1442240276" ]
	[WP]: All things end. Describe the last President of the United State's final days of Presidency	3	[ "Welcome to the Oval office, Mr. President. just to get you up to speed: Texas and Alaska are out of Oil and Europe is willing to Divert 15% of their reserves and production to help us out but ...\n\nI am the President, I dont give two shits what thus euro Fags say. we'll ride roughshot over their Shitty union. God has told me, that Oil is AMERICAS!\n\nWe've got the nukes... how many nukes do we have , general? \n\n.. About 6800 at last count , mr president. \n\nright and Europe, Russia and china have?\n\nAbout 2800 functional between them sir.\n\nRight, so fuck those guys, we need oil, WE'LL sell THEM what we have spare, send in the troops, redirect delivery to the GODDAMN USA and tell the Diplomats to prepare for a sustained Whinging campaign. HAH.\n\nWe've got the Airforce, the Navy the troops and tech to Stomp any nation who dares to impose sanctions or disrupt trade. they'll take what we give them and like it. God Told me!\n\n-------------------------------------------------------\n\nSir, mid term results are in, clean sweep of the house, you are the first president in nearly 50 years to have the senate, house and oval office all pulling in the same direction. your Foreign policy has been a Hit with average Americans and business is booming. Congratulations, whats next?\n\nWell, I think its about time north America became United America, send the diplomats north and south and have them put out feelers. we'll put a charm offensive out and arrange a public vote. \nbut... train half the troops for the heat and half for the Cold, just to be sure.\nWe'll be One people, One nation, One Continent. God Told ME! \n\nBur Sir, Canada and Mexico are two of our oldest allies...\n\nthen, they'll agree with us in the Polls, I'm Sure of it... Gold Told me.\n\n---------------------------------------------------\n\nWell Sir, Time to Consider your re-election platform, the unification with Mexico Gathered you a huge groundswell of support but the south does not like their new fellow Americans. \nRising tensions in Canada are threatening the liberal vote. \nalso we are seeing quite a high incidence of 'brain drain' from academia and industry, mostly heading to Europe, India and China. \nFolks are worried about a War on american Soil. it could hurt you in the upcoming election...\n\nOh I dont think we need to bother with the formality of an election, It would be a waste of money and I'd just win anyway... tell Fox that everyone agrees and to spread the word. \n\nWe have the greatest nation on the Planet, God has guided me to remove the divisiveness that crippled our nation, one government, one nation, one President, one God.\n\nI'm going to guide us to greatness, True Greatness, God Told me. He Chose me, anointed me his Emperor here on earth.\n\nno. we dont need an elections. god told me.", "I sat, coffee in hand, at my desk in the oval office; that is, what was left of it. It was just after seven in the morning, and the sun was just beginning to catch up to the world. The tips of the trees became illuminated in the dawn light. A new day, I thought to myself. To the five billion humans left on Earth of some twenty-five just a year earlier, the next day was the most important day. Nothing was certain, everything was a mystery, a new day was fraught with possibility. \n\nSince the ceasefire with the Radiant that had ended the ten month bloodbath that had raged across Africa, Asia, and Europe until just weeks prior, a new day took on some of its former glory. I smirked as I worked this over in his mind. A new day, to most this brought to mind bold claims and broken promises from the Transcendence Corporation. A new day in the sun for mankind and for all, they touted. Transcendence, the corporation-state that controlled the smoldering waste that had become of Australia, had left Earth with a representative few hundred thousand humans to start a new life. The thunder of the Transcendence jets was the deathknell of all hope for humanity reclaiming the earth from what we had made it.\n\nHere I sit, he mused, the last of a grand line. He looked up at the ceiling where tiles of each president’s portrait, spanning back to George Washington some four-hundred years before, had been affixed to the ceiling. Some prejudiced plasma shell had found and removed the late twentieth and most of the twenty-first centuries. Still, in all their cracked, weather-beaten glory it was a group of humans of which I was proud to be a part. Yet here I stood, the last. The fading few measures on a centuries-old sonata. \n\nTomorrow, humanity took the next step. The species would come together in our final years, or we would surely not last the winter. Sipping my quickly cooling coffee, I stood from his throne of rubble and turned to look upon the district, the origin of this new world. Everyone would be in attendance, every head of state and government, to inaugurate this communion. Humanity has many faulted, prideful tenets of which nationalism is one of the deepest-seated. But this war -- this slaughter, had left no nation untouched. We were all of us made new, beaten and smashed until our will became malleable. \n\nFrom these broken wills we will forge an ingot, and alloy of humanity stronger than any before. I set aside, as my peers do, my status in the old world, such that I might have a seat at this new table." ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1442249152", "1442252565" ]
It doesn't even have to be a litteral princess... just the person who is the usual helpless plot device.	[WP] The fair princess - tired of always being the damsel in distress - decides to try her luck as a hero.	57	[ "######[](#dropcap)\n\nHeroes. There is no such thing in this galaxy or the next. It is a lie we tell our children, a comforting falsehood to shield their thoughts from the blade slashing down at their necks, to blind their nightmares from the real-life horrors that await out there. There are only victims and the strong. And where once Glinda Gagnon was weak, she made herself anew, steely and cold and distant. She would not count days, she would not count light-years. She would only count the foes she had killed, slowly making her way to those who wronged her, and only then would she be truly content. \n\n--\n\n\"Contact! Enemy Chimera smoking bad, distance 600 meters!\" Sergeant Gagnon-Marik shouted, eyes pressed against the tank destroyer's periscope. Her once waist long golden hair had been sheared short, the better to keep clean and out of the way in the cramp confines of her Capellan-made Predator. She wore the same olive green body suit as the rest of her crew, the padded helmet similar to a rugby cap with the addition of comm gear and a throat mike. \n\nHer Predator tank destroyer was a low slung machine, its hull camouflaged in the mottled fall colors of their current battlefield. Spare lengths of track were welded to the front and vulnerable sides along with hastily chopped logs, anything to give them a fraction more armor. Nails had been wielded to the top of her commander's cupola to prevent infantry from opening it from the outside. The whole affair lent her machine a brutish, savage aura about it, like some monster forged of iron and rage.\n\n\"Gotcha, Sarge, tracking Chimera now,\" Corporal James Donnelly said staring down the scope of his gun. \"Solid slug or cluster?\"\n\nTheir sole armament was the lethal Mydron Devastator LB 20-X Autocannon, capable of stripping over a ton of armor in a single shot. Lethal out to 360 meters, the only weakness of the titan-slaying weapon was its anemic ammo count. With two tons allocated to its shells they carried only ten rounds, divided evenly between solid 158 mm shells and the shotgun-like cluster rounds.\n\n\"Solid shot first then cluster immediately,\" Sergeant Gagnon ordered, eyes never leaving her sights. \n\n\"Copy, Sarge. Solid first, cluster second,\" the gunner replied. \n\n\"Jasper, once we fired two shells I want you to back us up and move to the next position.\" \n\n\"Understood, boss.\" Her driver was a ferret of a man with weaselly eyes and nose, an image not at all improved by his oft kleptomaniacal tendencies. It was what made him the preeminent scrounger in the battalion bar none. \n\nThe Chimera was an older battlemech, its gangling limbs and awkward torso evidence of its nearly eighty year old past. The medium-range missile launcher gave the machien an ugly hunched, lopsided appearance. No doubt surplus from the FedCom Civil War, remnants of a conflict brought upon the Inner Sphere by a single woman's greed and pride. \n\nThe mech moved slow, carefully scanning the rubble strewn street with its lasers and machine gun. It hadn't seen them, had no idea that it was being hunted and so moved bit by bit towards its doom. \n\n\"She's in range, Sergeant,\" her gunner murmured, finger resting on the trigger to the tank destroyer's gun.\n\n\"No, not yet. Let him get closer.\"\n\nThrough the 5x magnification of her scope she could see everything, from the dented and scorched armor to the shape of its mechwarrior behind their armored cockpit. They wore a face obscuring helmet, the coolant vest disguising their gender. Each bird-like step brought the Chimera closer, the vibration of its forty ton weight felt through pavement, earth and steel. \n\n\"One hundred eighty meters,\" her gunner stated.\n\n\"Hold...\" Sergeant Gagnon said.\n\n\"One fifty.\"\n\n\"Hold...\" \n\n\"One hundred meters dammit.\" \n\n\"Fire!\" Gagnon shouted, and instantly the entire tank destroyer shook with the gun's recoil, throwing up a cloud of dust in front of them. The 158 mm shell smashed into the Chimera's left torso and arm and obliterated its brace of lasers in a rain of steel and myomer. The limb hung uselessly, connected by a few stubborn cables and tubing. The mech rocked under the assault, its pilot unprepared for the hideous damage inflicted. \n\n\"Cluster!\" Gagnon demanded. Her heart racing as she heard the automatic loader shoving the correct shell into the autocannon's breech. The steel loading ram pushed the four hundred pound round deep into the gun and withdrew just as the breech locked shut, forming a perfect seal against the backblast.\n\n\"Firing!\" Donnelly shouted and he squeezed the trigger, the entire tank bucking back as the cloud grew larger.\n\nThe cluster shell broke apart as soon as it left the bore, throwing twenty pound bucket shot at blinding speeds. They smashed against the torso, ripping deep into the vulnerable interior and tearing their way through gyro and fusion engine. The Chimera staggered, knocked off of one of its metal feet and uselessly trying to regain its footing as gyroscope tore itself apart. \n\n\"Jasper, ram that bitch!\"\n\nHer driver said nothing, merely slamming his foot down onto the pedal and throwing both her gunner and she against the back of the fighting compartment. Tracks threw up a cloud of dust and shattered bricks as it smashed its way through the front of the church they had hidden in, punching a tank sized hole in its massive doors. Down the stairs they charged, the springs of their suspension doing little as Gagnon bit her cheek and tasted copper blood. \n\n*Wh-thumpt!* \n\nIt was like slamming into a concrete wall, Gagnon's head bashing against the rear wall of the compartment, only the padded helmet keeping her from being knocked unconscious. The Predator began to rise as if climbing a hill before slamming down again, the crunch of breaking glass and groan of bending metal reverberating through the tank destroyer. Then they were down, tracks meeting pavement as drove over the prone form of the battlemech. \n\n\"Turn us around!\" She ordered, throwing open the cupola's hatch as she did so. \"Solid slug, fire on my mark.\"\n\nTracks whined and tore up cobble stones as the machine drifted like a street racer, the fixed barrel of her gun panning out over the feeble form of the Chimera.\n\n\"Fire!\" \n\nThe gun roared and the shell impacted against the left torso, detonating its remaining missiles and machine gun rounds. The medium mech was torn apart in the explosion, its limbs flying every which way as 14.7 mm rounds cooked off, popping like angry hornets. Sergeant Gagnon smiled ferally as she ducked back into her tank to avoid the hissing bullets. She was alive, and her foe was not. For now she was content.", "Lady Manfred was bored out of her mind, as she saw her white knight prepare himself for yet another adventure. \"Boy, what an exciting life that must be,\" she thought, \"while my most exciting feat of this week was to try out a new casserole.\"\n\n\"So, where to this time?\" she asked.\n\n\"Oh, it's that Loreshire town. Apparently, some monster has been eating their cattle for some time and now some people have disappeared. Just a matter of organizing the little cowards and taking on whatever beast is causing the trouble.\"\n\n\"Pretentious name for such a little town.\"\n\n\"Hey, a gold piece is a gold piece.\"\n\n\"How much are they going to pay you?\"\n\n\"They already did. Remember the pink dress you wanted?\"\n\nShe did. The thrill of a new dress had lasted... what? 2 minutes? Ok, 3 minutes max. \"Can I come with you?\"\n\n\"What for? Beasts are not impressed when you just stand there and look pretty...\"\n\nLord Manfred suddenly bent over and started to gasp for air. His face became yellow and he emptied his stomach all over his shiny armor.\n\n--------------------------\n\n\"It's either something he ate or divine punishment for some sin he has committed. Either way, all he needs is some rest and praying and he should be fine,\" said Friar Ludovic. \"Do you know if he has eaten something strange lately?\"\n\nLady Manfred immediately thought of the imported Arab spices and African meat she had used in her casserole. \"No, not at all Friar Ludovic.\"\n\n\"Then he must have sinned. No need for leeches then. However, you can speed his recovery by purchasing some prayers. I have a few good ones that may help him recover. Because it is Lord Manfred we're talking about, I would be willing to offer you a discount if you're interested.\"\n\nLady Manfred, now with a lighter purse and a heavier conscience led Friar Ludovic to the door and saw him leave.\n\n\"Well, I can't do anything for poor Archibald. I guess I will have to wait here for him to recover. Maybe I should throw that meat and spices away, just in case,\" she thought.\n\nJust then, Bob, Lord Manfred's squire, showed up at the door.\n\n\"My lady, the horse is ready and so are the weapons. Can you please tell My Lord that we are ready to go?\" said Bob.\n\n\"Ahhhhh, regarding that, there has been a sudden change of plans,\" replied Alana, for that was the name of Lady Manfred, a name that she often wondered if anyone remembered.\n\n\"My Lady,\" said Bob. \"There can be no change of plans, we have already accepted payment for this job. Also, Lord Manfred has already accepted payment for the next job from that town.\" \n\n\"Really? How much did he charge for the next job?\"\n\n\"The virginity of the oldest daughter of the town's elder, of cour...\" Bob quickly covered his hand, as his eyes grew to the size of plates that happened to be pretty big.\n\n\"Oh, Bob, don't insult my intelligence,\" said Lady Manfred. \"As if I didn't know about these things already.\" \n\nNevertheless, she found her guilt about the casserole incident start to dissipate.\n\n\"In any case, he's terribly sick and in no condition to do anything.\"\n\n\"But My Lady, what will we do now? Peasants might be afraid of a mysterious beast, but they will not hesitate to come in group to get back their money, not from a knight that doesn't even have a castle.\"\n\nLady Manfred, whose first name was never used, not even by the author of his story, looked around at her cabin. Yes, it was comfy, but it was not a castle.\n\n\"Well, then I guess I'll have to do.\"\n\n\"YOU? But My Lady...\"\n\n\"Do you have a better idea?\"\n\n\"Ahhh, no, but...\"\n\n\"No buts, unless you want to go back to the street. We can always find another half-starved boy that's willing to work for less than half of the food you eat.\" Now that she thought about it, how come Bob hadn't gotten sick? Maybe next time she'll have Archibald eat from the dog's bowl too. \"Let's go see that armor of his.\"\n\n----------------\n\nAbout an hour later, Lady Manfred was ready to go. Of course, that is if you allow for a very loose definition of the word \"ready.\" Half of the armor pieces were lying on the floor. After a few tries, the lance was put away and had been replaced by a sword, the blade of which had to be rested on the neck of the horse since it was too heavy for Lady Manfred's right hand. The left hand was grappling the front part of the saddle, to avoid falling. The pair had somehow managed to make Lady Manfred wear the helmet and the breastplate. Due to Lady Manfred's lack of a third hand, it had been decided that Bob will take the reins and walk the horse in at a very, very, very slow pace. The only thing that remained unsolved is how Lady Manfred would brandish the sword or even lift it from the horse's neck, to which she imagined that when the time came, she'd somehow manage.\n\nLady Manfred insisted to wait until it started to get dark before leaving, as she wasn't too proud of her metallic Humpty Dumpty with a helmet on top look. Still, after two hours of travel, she decided the whole thing has ridiculous and had Bob take back everything but the sword and the horse back to the house while she waited under a tree.\n\n__________________________\n\nI'm realizing that this is going to take much longer than I thought, so I will leave it here. I hope this doesn't break any rules.", "\"That's it! I am out of here!\" she whispers angrily as she swings herself over the window ledge.\n\"I am sick and tired of waiting!\" One hand and one foot at a time, she walks down the side of the stone tower, holding on tight to the sheet rope she had made. \"How long am I suppoed to wait?!? Until my hair is white and my skin swinging all the way down to my ankles? No way!\" \n\nAt the bottom of the tower she jumps off the rope and lands on the grass. \"What are other princesses doing? Are they really sitting around all day knitting and singing, waiting for their prince to show up? They must be bored out of their minds! Sure they are! I am!\" The newly escaped princess fixes her sack on her shoulders and marches off through the thicket. \n \n\"I will rescue them! And once I have a group of princesses together, we are gonna start a petition! A petition to end this nonsense! Or even better... to send the princes into these towers. So they can sit and wait for years for their rescue! Oh yes! That will teach them!\" \n\nThree days later, our escapee princess finds herself standing infront of a tall stone tower just like the one she had been captured in. \nThe innkeep had told her where she could find the tower. He had also told her that this princess was guarded by an evil dragon. \"Many brave men have died...\" the old man had said. She didn't care. In her own tower she had once been watched by a dragon. These poor creatures are just as lonely and bored as the princesses are. \n\nSo without hestitation, the princess walks into the tower. It takes her about 5 minutes to find the dragon chamber (these towers really all look the same). The giant lizard followed the protocoll to a T: it spit some fire not directly at her, then it stared at her with big red eyes through a cloud of thick black smoke, roaring so loud, the walls started shaking. \n\n\"Oh, would you stop that?!?\" our princess said annoyed. A red dragon heat comes gliding thorugh the cloud of smoke. It blinks its eyes in confusion. \n\n\"You are not a knight\", it says. \n\"That's right, I am a princess! According to paragraph 4, line 12, you are not allowed to kill me or even touch me\", our princess answers. The dragon blinks again.\n \n\"What are you doing here?\"\n\"I, my noble dragon, am here to rescue your princess. I heard she has been in here since her fifth nameday. It's about time she gets out of this hole.\" \n\n\"Rescue my princess? How are you gonna rescue her?\" \n\n\"I will take her with me. Since you are not allowed to harm either of us, there is nothing you can do.\" \n\nThe dragon looks at her puzzled and sad. He has been so excited that he finally got to eat a knight again... \n\nThe princess sees his sad eyes. \"Don't despair noble creature. You will be freed too!\" \n\nThe dragon's eyes fire up. \"What?\" \n\n\"I have read the books of law, dear friend\", the princess answers. \"And there it clearly stages that a dragon, once he has served 10 full years in a row, can be released from his duties for a whole century, when his princess gets freed. I know your maid is 17 now, so you are well past your retirement date and are free to go.\" \n\nThe dragon has to think about that for a minute. Then he suddenly gets up, grabs a gigantic cauldron, and starts shovelling gold and other belongings into it. \n\n\"Thank you young lady,\" says as he puts an old burned knight armor in his cauldron. \"You don't know what that means to me. I haven't seen my son and my wife in years.... Little Jimmy must be 78 out... I wonder how much he das grown since I left...\". \n\n\"You are welcome noble guardian\", the princess replies. \"But before you leave, please tell me where i can find the royal maiden you were taking care of.\" \n\n\"Her chamber is right up these stairs, second door to the left\", the dragon sais as he puts in a gigantic hat. He nods to the princess and stomps out the tower, whistling. \n\nOur princess walks up the stairs to said chamber. The royal daughter, who clearly must have heard the tumoil downstairs, was reday for her rescue: she lay still as a stone in her bed, waiting for the noble prince to come kiss her. All she got was a rough shake on the shoulder. \n\n\"Get up! It's time to go!\" \nConfused the other princess stood up. \"Who are you? What is going on?\" \n\n\n\"I am getting you out of here!\" \n\"But...but...\" \n\n\"I am here to free you! Aren't you tired of sitting around herewaiting for a prince that might never come around?\" \n\n\"... yes... I am.\" \n\n\"Well then, grap your stuff and let's go!\" \n\nI could go on and on about how they free more princesses and how they come up with a plan to riot against the current princess laws but I don't want the post get any longer\n\n\n", "Lord Aron beamed with pride as he cantered up the main street of King City, the princess Ellesmera riding behind him, pressed against his back and holding tight as his horse dealt with the uneven cobblestones. The streets were not lined with cheering peasants, as this probably felt like the thousandth time Ellesmera had been kidnapped by a harpy, or a three headed dog, or a dragon, or a gryphon, or... it was hard to keep track. \n\nHe had felt like most of the people he knew about their land's wayward princess, but when she got kidnapped by the small dragon that had been flying over one of the creepy villages in the northern half of the kingdom, and scaring the locals. He had ridden forth, and the dragon had been surprisingly easy to fight, almost as if it weren't even trying to keep the princess. His sword had slid effortlessly into the beast's side, and it had screamed and fled, leaving the beautiful princess to be rescued. \n\nThey had spent the night in the village, Sempertino or Cupertino or AwfulPoorRemoteSlumBurg. It was as creepy and awful as the rumors said, with short people that spoke a strange, lilting tongue. They had been hospitable, but he had been perfectly willing to use the princess's credit and get out of there after only one night. They had ridden hard, both so that the princess could be reunited with her father, and so that Aron could get what had become a traditional reward for rescuing the princess- 500 gold and a position in the city guard, a job that paid the fortune of 60 gold per year.\n\nHe rode into the stable and picked the princess up off the horse, which elicited an utterly charming squeak, and led her by the hand into the throne room. The courtiers waited impatiently- they'd seen it all before- and the king hugged her, and asked her what gift could possibly be worthy of such a hero as... she looked at Aron and he introduced himself, wondering bemusedly if she had forgotten his name. \n\n\"Father, I think that Aron here is a good and true man-\" Wait, were they getting married? Was he going to be king? The rumors about the so often kidnapped princess didn't really say how people got their job...\n\n\"-who recognizes the contribution of the village of Sempertina-\" where?\n\n\"-and who would like his reward to be a relief on their taxes and an improvement on the roads leading to their town.\"\n\nThe king agreed instantly and Aron was led off by a guard, trying to control his sputtering outrage. The guard handed him a sack of gold, and walked back into the castle. He could see the courtiers in the throne room reforming the queue that he and Ellesmera had interrupted, murmuring loudly to themselves about the implications for the kingdom of supporting Sempertina.\n\n_______________\n\nEllesmera got back to her room, and changed into a looser, more comfortable dress as soon as court ended. It was a relief to be back in pants after days in a dress while she got \"kidnapped\" and got \"rescued\". She pulled a neatly bound book out of a chest at the foot of her bed, locked with a key which she had sewn into the lining of one of her mother's dresses. She opened to a chart in the middle of the book, with columns of city names and tax revenue, and crossed off Sempertina. About half the cities had starts marked next to their names, and half of those were crossed out. She smiled at the page, and the carefully put everything away.\n\nThe next day, a large flock of crows flew over King City, and no one noticed one of the birds detaching from the flock and heading into Ellesmera's window. Inside, the bird turned into a fey man, and the two planned what city they would help next.\n\n____\nFirst post here, hope it's okay!", "The weary knight limped forward through a dark stone tunnel. His left foot dragged behind every step he made with his right, the crushing weight of a full suit of armor offset by the greatsword he now used as a cane. He heard the feeble beating of his heart in his ears, each beat slightly softer than the last. His vision swam with images, some of the dimly lit path before him, and some he knew were just figments of his imagination. People or places from his past. But that was a different time, a different life. He had given it all up for the woman. The woman. He chuckled to himself softly, no humor in the expression. They had begged him, pleaded with him. Their queen, they needed someone to recover their queen. He didn’t even know the damn woman’s name. But they promised, his family, his land, all would be taken care of, even after his return. He couldn’t have made such a promise if he had stayed there with them. And there was a sense of nobility in rescuing royalty, something he never had the fortune to enjoy in his life. At least this way, he would be remembered. \n\nHis left foot caught something sharp on the ground as he dragged it forward and the impact caused him to stumble onto his knees. He cursed loudly, perhaps too loudly. He thought it would have been easy, after all they gave him thirty men to take with him. Not fully knights but seasoned warriors of both civil wars still. Yet it had not been enough. He was all that remained, some killed, others captured. The journey had been littered with danger, and he could not risk announcing his presence to any that he had yet to face. He slowly shifted his weight over the greatsword and pushed to prop himself up. His body was close to its limit, he knew this, but he was almost there. If the information they had given him was accurate, it would not be far now. He continued at a snails pace in the direction he was facing. \n\nAs he inched forward he saw a small light at the end of the tunnel. He took it as a sign he was getting closer. He tried to focus his vision and thought he saw… gold? He shook his head and decided he’d find out soon enough. It occurred to him that he had not thought about the state the woman would be in. Would he have to carry her? He hoped not. He could barely carry himself. How would they get away? He could hardly run, but if they were lucky, they would not have to. The peasants told him that a great dragon had taken the woman, and he would have to fight it to save her. He had smiled at that, the way an adult smiles at a foolish child. Dragons were myth, but the common people were not educated enough to know this. They likely thought this because of tales of great treasure in the mountain. No, not a dragon, this was a man. A miser thief who hoarded his gold in one place maybe, but still a man. And he could kill a man, even in this state. It would not be the first, and he hoped, not his last. \n\nFinally, the blur of light in the distance started to grow larger. He tried again to see what was the source of the brightness, but his eyes had been adjusted to the dark for so long that he was blinded if he looked directly at it. It was much warmer here than at the far end of the tunnel. And he could no longer here the drip of water that he had grown accustomed to for the last hour. Was it an hour? Or two? He couldn’t tell, and his mind had wandered off often. He tried now to focus himself. He had to be ready. If he could just catch the thief by surprise he would be able to make short work of him with his sword. The woman would recognize the crest on his armor, or rather, the armor they had given him, and would know he was there to save her. After that they would begin the long journey back. \n\nBy now the exit to the tunnel was large enough that he knew he would arrive in only a short time. His eyes were adjusting now and he could see much larger chamber than the one he was in. He could not see how high the ceiling was from where he was standing, but the width of the room was much wider than the gap of the tunnel exit. And the walls were the same dark stone, almost black. But there, in the room, he saw where the light was coming from. And he almost snorted aloud. Gold, in the stone. A mine. That’s what this room was. There was no pile of treasure with a dragon atop it, but the walls of the chamber were speckled with deposits of shining gold, likely reflecting light from an opening in the ceiling. \n\nHe stopped a few paces short of the exit and crouched down to survey the area. The path exiting the tunnel seemed to continue straight out into the middle of the chamber, but quickly fell off to either side, leading to a small island in the center. He saw a shape sitting curled up on the otherwise barren stone floor, out in the middle of the island. The woman, it had to be. And there was no sign of her kidnapper. This was good, he was most likely gone, after all there was nowhere he could be hiding. The man slowly rose and continued out of the tunnel. It was maybe 20 paces out to the woman now. He let himself smile, he had done it. \n\n“Hey” he called out softly. The figure’s head shot up sharply. It was the woman. Relief swam over the man. She was younger than he had imagined, but her features matched the description. Her face seemed made of a waning innocence. Not yet shattered, but still somewhat intact. She was covered with a ragged cloak that wrapped around her body and came up over her head in a hood. Creamy brown hair fell down, out from behind the hood and she quickly brushed it back, readying herself in fear. The man put his free hand up in an assuring gesture. “It’s okay, are you hurt?” The woman stared at him, seemingly unsure how to respond. He read it as shock. “I’m here to help you” he said pointing to the crest on his armor, “Are you hurt?” She shook her head slowly, but upon seeing the crest, realization seemed to sink in and her expression softened. She suddenly sprung up and rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck in joy. The sudden shift in weight was awkward for him and the greatsword he was holding onto clattered out of his hands, but she helped him steady himself, arms still wrapped around him. \n\n“It’s ok” he said, “I’m here to take you back.” The woman hugged him harder then, pressing her head next to his, her lips brushing his ear. She spoke ever so softly to him then, “I…am never going back.” A white hot burning erupted from the man’s side and he stepped back sharply, trying to catch himself on his bad leg, but he could not, and he stumbled back to his knees. He looked down franticly and saw what had happened. A piece of his armor at his midsection had been punctured inwards and was now covered in his own blood. He looked up horrified, there was some misunderstanding, he put his hands up pointing to the crest. Maybe she didn’t see it closely, but it was the crest, her crest. He struggled to make words, but where his body once found air, a warm fluid was filling up. She was standing over him now, the bloody knife she had used held firmly in her right hand. She took a few steps back and paused. A sound was growing in the mans ears, a rushing sound like a strong wind. And then he heard, no, felt a thunderous crack. and he fell over to his side. He raised his head to plead with the woman one final time, and was frozen by what he saw. A great winged dragon. Covered in bright scales of gold. The man locked eyes with the woman, hoping to convey his confusion, his fear. But she returned only cold hatred. “Burn him.” He heard her say. And his vision filled with red fire. ", "\"Did you hear about the murder of the royal family last night?\"\n\n\"They say that one of the generals led a revolt.\"\n\n\"Did anyone survive?\"\n\n\"The new royal messengers said all of them died, but there were rumors that the prince and princess managed to escape.\"\n\nThe bar was full of people talking about the recent attack on the royal family that no one saw the back door open and two figures slip out of the bar.\n\nThey hid in an alley, away from prying eyes. One of them started crying. The other held her hand and squeezed it tight.\n\n\"Shh Cathy, it's going to be alright, don't cry,\" he said, his other hand patting his sister's head.\n\nThe other tried to wipe away her tears, but they kept falling. \"H-how can it be alright?!\" she asked. \"Mom and dad and aunt Mary and uncle John are dead and General Grell is on the throne. How can you say it's alright when they're probably out there looking for us?\"\n\nCharles stayed silent, at a loss for words. He needed to stay strong for Cathy, but it was becoming more and more difficult by the minute. For a moment, the alley was quiet, save for the sound of Katie crying.\n\nThen he hugged his sister. \"It's going to be alright, I promise. We'll find a way out of this, but you'll have to trust me.\"\n\nKatie sniffed. \"O-okay...\"\n\nCharles let go of her sister. At that moment, they head the sound of heavy footsteps and they were forced to run.\n\n---\n\nThey finally stopped running nearly an hour later, safely hidden inside an empty warehouse. By then, they were exhausted, their heavy breathing echoing within the warehouse. They lay on the floor, panting.\n\n\"It's been-gasp-a while since I've had to-gasp-run that far,\" remarked Charles, who had joined his father in some hunts before...what happened.\n\n\"gaspGood-gasp-for you-wheeze-then. I-gasp-haven't run like this wheeze-in my entire-wheeze-life,\" panted Cathy. She was usually in the library or at her mother's side, reading about anything that piqued her curiosity or learning the intricacies of the court.\n\nThey lay on the ground for over half and hour. Charles helped his sister onto her feet.\n\n\"Okay, here's the plan. We'll sneak into one of the boats and head for the next country,\" he said.\n\nLet it be said that while Charles is good at adapting to new circumstances, he was never the best at long-term planning.\n\n\"But they inspect the cargo and the passengers in the other countries. The city guard will also be looking for us at the port,\" replied Cathy. \n\n\"We'll cross that bridge when we get there, but we have to leave this city fast. We aren't safe here.\"\n\nCathy thought it over. \"Okay, but let us go to the East Nation, father is a good friend of the king there. We might be able to get some help.\"\n\nCharles nodded. \"Alright then, but before we leave...\"\n\nHe started ripping out his formal clothing and Cathy's fine silk dress.\n\n---\n\nThey managed to get onto a boat, but the second part of the plan failed when they overheard some people talking about the assassination of the king of the East Nation.\n\nIn hushed tones, Charles spoke to his sister. \"Well, what now?\"\n\nCathy was silent, but unlike before, it was not a pause born of grief and pain. Instead, it was a calculating pose, like a thinker working on a new set of problems.\n\nShe finally spoke after a minute. \"We aren't in good terms with any other country, so we'll have to try our luck somewhere else.\"\n\n\"But where?\"\n\nShe was about to reply when the ship suddenly stopped, sending them both tumbling to the floor. \n\nIt was a pirate attack.\n\nCharles covered Cathy's mouth as screams and metal piercing flesh filled the air. After a while, the sounds died down.\n\nNeither of them moved as they waited, in their cramped hiding place, for the ship to set port.\n\nFinally, after three days, the ship stopped, and they hastily left the boat.\n\n---\n\n\"Dead Sailor Harbor, I should have known,\" said Charles.\n\n\"A wretched place where all manner of vulgarity makes itself known,\" agreed Cathy. \n\n\"You've read about this place, sis, what now?\" asked her brother.\n\n\"Well, it's an independent city-state that other countries don't want on their map. The people here don't care much about politics and from what I've heard, a whole lot of mercenaries.\"\n\nCharles stared at her. \"You're not thinking...\"\n\n\"Nope. Our army is too much even if we hire all the mercenaries here, but we can always learn the tools of the trade.\"\n\nCharles laughed, placing a hand on his cheek. \"To think that you would be the one to suggest that, are you my sweet sister whom I have known for sixteen years?\"\n\nCathy let a tear escape from her eye. \"If I keep distracting myself by thinking of something else, maybe I won't have to feel sad.\"\n\nCharles felt his eyes water, and he hugged his sister close again.\n\n---\n\nNote: It feels a tad unrealistic that they would bounce back so quickly. I'll blame adrenaline.", "Sir Beaufort leant out from behind the cart. The great expanse of the drawbridge lay before him, thirty yards of weathered wood hanging on black chains the width of a man's thigh. At its far end the stone keep waited vigilant. Within it, he would find his prize.\n\nA beastly roar rang out from the bleached haze above him. The snowcapped peaks in the distance took up the cry, returning its ghost again and again. Beaufort cursed under his breath - the dragon would return before long. He had to be quick.\n\nHeaving his armoured form out into the open, Beaufort launched himself out onto the drawbridge. He staggered as the weight of his iron frame caught up with him, threatening to throw him face down onto the boards. He made a mental note to seek out whichever man first suggested wearing plate armour to storm a mountain keep and thank him personally for his contribution. Regaining his footing, he pressed forward again at a steady pace, watching the world rock side to side through the slit in his visor. After weeks of toil, he was finally within reach of his goal. He would be the one to save her.\n\nThe world span, jumped, and crashed down into Beaufort's face. All sound disappeared in an instant, replaced by a soft ringing that came from somewhere deep in the back of his skull. A dryness in his mouth told him he was screaming, but if he was making any noise he didn't hear it. He tried to rise, but his limbs weren't where he expected to find them and he came crashing unceremoniously back down onto the ground.\n\nSomething grabbed Beaufort around the pauldron, hauling him up to his knees and dragging him forward in a half-crawl. He raised his head and tried to hold it steady, failing spectacularly. Half of his visor was bashed in, and the other half revealed only a swimming line of white light. He felt himself thrown down against something hard. A young girl was shrieking somewhere far away, although the sound was bent and broken as if he was holding his head under a bath.\n\n\"Oh shut your damn mouth, Harry.\"\n\nAt the sound of his name, Beaufort closed his mouth and the shrieking abruptly stopped. He reached up with quivering hands and pawed at his helmet. The first attempt just ended up smacking him across the side of the head, but his second pass found a good grip and started to ease the helm upward. Its dented side scraped across his forehead as it came off, but the rush of fresh air was a welcome reward. Someone was standing over him. A girl. A girl?\n\n\"Have no... Feuuurrrrrrrr-\" he managed, collapsing back against whatever it was he was leaning on. The cart, apparently. His surroundings tired of dancing around and returned at last to their rightful places. He was back where he'd started on the far side of the drawbridge. Across from him, the great stone wall of the keep lay in ruins, plumes of smoke rising steadily above it. Rocks the size of a man were scattered across the bridge's charred planks. He couldn't see the dragon anywhere.\n\n\"Harry!\" The voice was sharp, hard. Beaufort snapped to attention.\n\n\"I, uh...\" He paused as he finally took in the woman standing over him. \"Elisabeth?! What... The tower?...\"\n\n\"Pull yourself together Harry. Did you really think I was just going to wait in there for someone to rescue me?\"\n\nBeaufort looked from his companion, to the ruined tower, and back. \"Whu....\"\n\n\"The last garrison left a keg of gunpowder in the armoury. Look, Harry, we really need to go. That dragon could come back any moment.\"\n\n\"Uh...\" He nodded his approval. Well, more of a drunken sway than a nod, but it was good enough. Not that it mattered anyway - Elisabeth was already hauling him to his feet and back towards the mountain pass. Somewhere far away, Harry Beaufort heard the beast roar.", "Constable Percy locked the last of the brigands in the cell and tucked the keys back into his belt with a satisfying jingle. \"'At'll teach you thugs!\" he gloated at them as they all lounged sullenly against the wall. \"I bet the king'll want to deal with you hisself!\" He gestured toward the executioner's ax hanging on the opposite wall, notched and worn from slicing through so many necks. \"I just sent word meself that we saved his daughter and that you thugs were the ones holding her. So I'd expect him t' be here right quick!\"\n\nNone of the prisoners responded. \"Hmph,\" Percy grunted at them. \"Don't need no confession anyway.\" he turned to his deputies and waggled a fat finger at them. \"You boys stay sharp. The rest 'a the gang'll be tryin' to break them out. Don't let anyone through that door, you hear me?\" The guards in the room saluted back and took their posts, swords at the ready. \n\nPercy climbed the winding stairs out of the dungeon and up to his own bedchambers, where the princess was waiting. Nothing salacious, mind you. Percy was certainly an ambitious young man: he'd climbed his way up the government ranks from almost nothing. Just the fifth son of a minor noble house on the outskirts of nowhere, and look at him now: Constable of the entire province. He'd be Governor before he turned 40, he'd bet. But even an ambitious man such as Percy knew that the Princess was far out of his league, both in beauty and rank. So he'd given her his bed to sleep in and rest up from her ordeal. She'd been gone for over 2 years, though who knows how much of it had been at the hands of this gang. \n\n\"My lady?\" he knocked softly as he entered. She was sitting up in bed, blond hair tousled over the shoulder of the night dress he'd managed to find for her. It was from Lady Bitref, who had ample clothing to share but also ample weight. It was a number of sizes too large for the delicate princess, and revealed a bit more than her dear father would have liked. Constable Percy wasn't complaining, though. \n\n\"Constable Percy,\" she said with a radiant smile. Her voice was like a chorus of songbirds. \"Thank heavens you found me when you did! Those men were bloodthirsty and horrid! They... they did things...\" Percy could see the tears starting to well up in her clear blue eyes.\n\n\"Not to worry, my lady. 'ts all over now. You're safe here.\"\n\nShe gave a weak smile and a nod. \"You're right. You've been so amazing since you rescued me.\"\n\nPercy blushed and adjusted his collar. He had been amazing, hadn't he? Maybe he'd be Governor earlier than he'd planned! The King would be mighty grateful to the man who had rescued his daughter. \"Well, thank you, m'lady. I was just checking in to see if there might be anything you would be needin'.\" Best keep her all buttered up till the King arrived.\n\n\"You're leaving?\" she said, pulling the blanket aside and swinging one long leg out from under the sheets. Lady Bitref may have been large around the sides, but she was certainly much shorter than the princess. The dressing gown didn't extend very far down her thighs, and Constable Percy found it quite difficult to not look. \n\n\"Just need to go lock this in the treasury,\" he said, jangling the purse of gold at his waist that had been confiscated from the bandits. They'd had quite a haul on them; this would make for quite a bonus for Percy. \"But there're guards all o'er the castle. You've nothing t' worry about.\"\n\nShe bit her lip and flipped her hair over her shoulder. \"Would you... mind if I came with you? I just... don't think I can be alone anymore.\"\n\nConstable Percy bowed and grinned. If he played his cards right, he could even land himself in the Royal government down at the capital! To think that all of this could come from a common bandit raid. \"I'd be happy t' escort you, Princess.\"\n\nThey walked down the hall together to the astonishment of many of the guards. She clung to his arm and laughed at his jokes, while he did his best to inflate his own importance before she spoke to her father. She waited patiently by his side as he fiddled with his keys till he found the right ones to open the vault. She commented on how impressed she was that he'd managed to collect so much for the crown; this must surely be one of the most prosperous provinces in the realm! Percy humbly informed her that he'd played quite a role in encouraging commerce and growth in the area. After that little errand, she gave a large yawn and announced that she finally felt safe enough to get some sleep, all thanks to the Constable's management skills. He escorted her back to her room and opened the door like a true gentleman.\n\n\"Thank you so much,\" she said, gripping him in a tight hug. He tried not to focus too much on her soft breasts pressed against him, or the smell of her hair. \"Thank you for all you've done. My father will be so pleased.\" She still held him tight, no doubt savoring the human contact after all those months with those barbarians. \"I am going to ask him to promote you right away.\" She released him and clasped her hands behind her back with a flirtatious smile.\n\nPercy waved a hand. \"Just happy t' be doin' mah duty for my King, m'lady. I 'ppreciate your kind words, and I'd be honored t' 'ave you mention it to the King himself.\" \n\n\"Well, good night, Constable,\" she said, giving him the cue to leave the room. He bowed once more and closed the door behind him as she went off to get ready for bed. \n\nGovernor Percy, he thought to himself, trying the title on for size. Exchequer Percy, maybe? He'd always been good at dealing with coinage. How about Minister of Justice Percy? He had saved the princess from a gang of thieves; the king had to know that he knew how to deal with that rabble. It was possible, right?\n\nPercy made it back to his office (where he would sleep while the Princess made use of his quarters) and started some correspondence before bed. He had to get started on the letter writing early; there would hardly be time after the King promoted him. He left some blanks in the letter to his own Father where he could later fill in what position the King had bestowed. With that finished, he disrobed and prepared for bed himself. Must be rested for tomorrow.\n\nHe removed his collar and unbuttoned his vest, wondering what new uniform he'd be wearing tomorrow. He removed his pocket watch and laid it out carefully on the desk. Then he removed his... wait. Where was the key ring? He patted his pockets and checked every belt loop on his trousers. Nothing. He checked under the desk where he'd been sitting; maybe it fell! Still no sign of the keys. Where could it be?\n\nAs he brainstormed where he might have left it, the belltower began to ring out an alarm. \n", "\"Axxy, I'm bored,\" Princess Dell exclaimed. \"There hasn't been a single rescue attempt in 3 moons, and not even a pissant squire to announce the coming of another prince. You really should have let the last one live. That would have given the others some hope. Your appetite must be rather disturbing to would-be heroes\"\n\n\"It's not my fault that the kingdoms only breed wimps for princes nowadays. The rules are that any prince who can rescue you from this castle shall win your hand in marriage. And I get to eat the failures.\" \n\nThe Dragon, Nothraxxanduun, shifted its immense head to gaze at the princess with its cobalt eyes. It smiled at her, revealing teeth as large and sharp as broadswords. \n\n\"Well they all fail, and those rescue attempts are the only sort of excitement I can get in this stuffy old castle. I've read all the books, learned all your spells, and I can probably shoot a truer arrow than any of those dullard knights. I mean, come on Axxy, I even learned to juggle!\" \n\nTo prove her point Princess Dell grabbed a handful of gold coins from a nearby stack, counted out six, and began to juggle a neat circle in the air above her. Nothraxxanduun let out a low rumble, that was, of course, the sound of Dragon's laughter.\n\n\"I only see six coins. Did I ever tell you about the court jester from Liln who could manage a dozen? Why don't you practice until you can beat that?\"\n\nIrritated at this jest the princess stamped her foot and released a brute spell, sending each coin hurtling towards the Dragon. They ricocheted harmlessly off its thick scales. Furthered annoyed, Princess Dell visualized the runes for energy and air, and raised her hand to unleash a crackling bolt of lightning. Unperturbed, Nothraxxanduun wove a counterspell, and the bolt fizzled into nothing.\n\n\"Have you forgotten who taught you that spell, little one? If you were to live another thousand years then perhaps you could challenge me.\"\n\n \"That's my point exactly! You're just too powerful! How should any prince be able to rescue me when nine-tenths of them don't even bother to learn their runes anymore. They just come charging in with spears and shields, as if they could even lay a scratch upon you. I don't want to be a princess forever you know.\"\n\n\"Not forever dear. My previous captive lasted all the way until her 20th nameday before I ate her. And what a tiresome soul she was, always going on about her knitting and embroidery. You're much more interesting, Dell, I expect you'll keep me entertained until your 22nd at least.\" The Dragon laughed so heartily this time that steam broke through its grin.\n\n\"Oh Heavens that's horrible! I'm already past my 18th nameday. I can't imagine how horrible it would be to remain unwed by my 20th!\" The princess scrunched her face in disgust. \"No. I won't just sit here waiting on the off chance that some faux knight should rescue me. I need to be proactive about this. Axxy, you must carry me to nearest kingdom so that I can find myself a prince to marry.\"\n\n\"And just why should I do that?\"\n\n\"I'll let you eat the villagers,\" the princess said sweetly. \"I'll even command a knight or two to vanquish you. You always said you enjoy the tang of plate mail.\"\n\n\"Villagers are so bland, it's like eating livestock, and I've lost my taste for knights. I want the King. Royalty is just so, delectable.\" \n\nPrincess Dell considered this for a moment: if she married the heir and Axxy ate the King, then that would make her Queen! But that would not go over well with the People, they would never love her if she fed their King to a Dragon. \n\n\"So be it. I don't need their love. Make me a Queen, Axxy. Please.\" \n\nNothraxxanduun bared his sinister teeth, mouth smoking in pleasure. He had never imagined to capture someone of her caliber, but she was perfect. This would be fun. Oh yes indeed." ]	[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 6, 8, 10, 11 ]	[ "1442330862", "1442331756", "1442343021", "1442362150", "1442362906", "1442325070", "1442326321", "1442325474", "1442327667" ]
	[WP] You are a superhero that makes more and more questionable decisions until one day you are called a villain, and you see your actions for what they truly are, evil.	33	[ "The hero lived alone in a small hut in the mountains, surrounded by a quiet landscape, far from any other civilisation. He prefered it this way..\nNaturally, our superhero was born with his powers, although he doesn't know where he was born. The earliest memories of life is that of his childhood, back when he was living among other people in society, trying to live life as a normal boy.\n\"Like someone like me can ever hope to live a good, normal life\", he thought.\n\nWell rested, but still full of conflicting thoughts and unanswered questions, he decided to venture into the nearest, but still far-off town. This is the town where the hero first met good people, people who where friendly to him, people who respected him for what he is. It was a warm afternoon and the towns streets where bustling of people. He could hear old women discussing the latest rumors, children laughing at the entertaining street performers, shop-owners trying to win over customers.. Everyone greeting the hero as he passed by.\n\nFor the duration of the walk through the towns central districts, he felt calm, collected, respected and most of all welcomed. This was his town.\n\nAt some point he met with two men, one of them offering a warm greeting.\n\"Greetings my friend!\" He exclaimed. \"How good it is to see you here. Here, let me introduce my brother, Hans.\"\n\"Hello\"\n\"He just arrived this morning. We're on the way to the bar to conclude my tour of the town.\" The man said.\n\n\"Oh is that so?\" The hero replied. \"Say, have we met before, Hans?\"\n\"No we have not, I am quite certain\" Hans answered. \"This is my first time in this town, see.\"\n\n\"Yes I see\" The hero said. He then turned to Hans brother, \"I am getting abit hungry, and I think I would like some fish, preferably fresh out of the water, would you mind fetching some for me at the local river?\"\n\n\"Of course my friend!\" The man cheered and immediately ran off, leaving Hans quiet confused.\n\n\"Why would he leave me like that?\" Hans muttered to himself.\n\n\"Oh don't worry, he'll be back in no time. Why don't we proceed to the bar in the meantime?\" The hero said. And before Hans knew it, they were on their way.\n\n\nAlthough his brother, the only person he knew in town, wasn't there, Hans had a surprisingly good time at the local bar. He got along very well with just about everyone else there. They were all cheering, laughing, singing and dancing together.\n\nThe next morning, Hans woke up in the hotel room he was staying in. He barely remembers the night from before, but as he got more and more alert, his mind wandered toward his brother..\n\n\"Where is he, he was supposed to stay here with me tonight\" Hans muttered to himself.\nHe quickly got dressed and went out to look for his brother. He tried to recall all the different locations they had been yesterday, but couldn't find him anywhere. \nAfter he had searched practically every crook and corner of the town, he suddenly remembers his brother running off to catch fish for some reason. He figured he should go to the riverbank just outside the town, and sure enough, there he was.\n\n\"Brother!\" Hans shouted. \"What have you been doing all night, have you been here all this time?\"\n\n\"Of course\" He replied. \"The fish hasn't been biting at all, but for my friend, I won't give up!\"\n\nNaturally Hans found this answer perplexing. The fact that someone would sit all night fishing in a dried out river was perplexing.\nBut then he remembered, there has been other, similar accidents like this, a long time ago. He had only read about them in the newspaper, but they were all cases very similiar to what was happening here, people doing a single task for excessive amounts of time, for no apparent reason.\n\nThese cases were later solved, and It was said to be the cause of a single man, a supervillain, as revealed by the newspaper long time ago.\n\n\"Hello Hans\"\n\nHans was frightened for a moment as he turned around..\n\n\"Oh, it's you\" Hans said when he saw the man he had met with his brother yesterday. The man who had asked his brother to go fishing for him.\n\n\"It's you\"\n\n\"Hmm?\"\n\n\"It's you, from the newspapers back then, with all those strange incidents.\" Hans took a closer look..\n\"It IS you!\" He said.\n\n\"You, you are...\" As he was uttering these words he suddenly felt a strange feeling, and his next word; \"..My friend\".", "When I was young, superheroes were the stuff of comic books and blockbusters and video games. And like any young boy, I fantasized about having those powers: Invincibility, flight, teleportation, telekinesis, energy blasts from my hands. Anything Stan Lee could dream up I wanted. \n\nI was bullied. It happens. I think that the other kids, the boys especially, knew that there was something different. I didn’t realize it until I was about 14 or 15. By the time I was a teenager, those superhero fantasies were starting to fade away, replaced by more adult fare. I got into fights with my parents. They were religious, and they didn’t understand. Yeah, those people are a memory now I know. But they were very real back then, before we changed. \n\nI knew that there was more to life. In the cities, for sure. We had the internet, and I made my way to the nearest city every know and again. But I was always poor, there weren’t many jobs. And I couldn’t focus at school. \n\nI met Ahmed and fell in love, and moved away from my family and he was quickly estranged from his. We had each other and not much else. We lived in a trailer park, I did odd jobs and he had some gig at pub and was taking some IT courses at a community college extension. But we were happy in our way, living paycheck to paycheck in what passed for normality in our little universe. \n\nThat all changed with Project Orion and what we used to call “the Event.” You heard about it on the news every now and then, a manned mission to an asteroid that was in lunar orbit. And they found the perfect candidate. The mission was a success, until they left. And it started following them. \n\nThe crew always denied that anything strange took place when they were on that rock, but now I know better. They were exposed to the same anomaly, the one that disintegrated the rock while we all watched and waited in fear that it was going to destroy human civilization with a single impact event. They nuked it, but no one was sure it would work. When it changed course, when it came in, it had such a purpose to it. It was guided by some sort of intelligence, that much was certain. \n\nBut it disintegrated and the debris trailed through the skies and then the real changes started. The Singularity, as We now call it. \n\nAt first, I didn’t notice any changes. Whatever happened to me was latent. It was Ahmed who changed first. He could move things with his mind. Telekinesis. He got better with time. And he had a plan. \n\nHis family had fled Islamists but they were religious fundamentalists, just not the right kind. He had a visceral hatred of the religion in general, but especially the Sunni. You never really escape that toxicity when you come from a religious family. I should know. \n\n\nAt first he was happy to use his powers to help people. Most of them were. He became a celebrity of sorts as well, and we had money. But his family considered it demonic, and assumed his sexuality had sealed a curse from Allah. My family thought the same, but then, they also thought that Allah was a demon. \n\nEventually, the first super villains started to appear. The United States and other countries passed the registration acts, which turned into detention centers after Beijing was destroyed. Cooler heads prevailed and prevented a mass genocide except, of course, in certain countries. These transhumans, as people called them, they had a lot of firepower but they were very, very small in number. Beijing was a wake up call that something had to be done, and it was. \n\nThe crusaders and the jihadists led the charge against us. People became small minded and petty, and intolerance washed over the face of the Earth. We were in hiding then, and I was making love to Ahmed when I discovered my own abilities. I kept shifting at first, my perspective shifting from his to mine, and mine to his. And then my body fell cold, dead. Harrison Jack, or what had been Harrison Jack, no longer existed. \n\nI was now Ahmed, but I was also what remained of Harrison Jack. And we were still on the run. I was something new. My Arabic was serviceable before, but now it was fluent. As was my English. I knew things about Ahmed, and Ahmed knew things about me. We were each other. We were no longer lovers or partners or husbands. We were one another. A harmonious unity of thought, memory and purpose. \n\nAnd still on the run. We lived in this state for some time. Ahmed was accused of murder, and we couldn’t expose ourselves to try and explain what would never be accepted. So we became heroes or, if you prefer, vigilantes, even donned a mask. A mask of a blank face, the everyman. Life wasn’t easy, but it felt worthwhile to help people. To oppose the darker elements among the transhumans and mundanes alike. \n\nBut as good as we were, we couldn’t beat a transhuman intelligence operative who had been tasked with hunting us down. Sydney Day, the remote viewer. She found us, but we refused to go quietly. She killed Ahmed. \n\nWe didn’t know how it would work then. Would We just die in Ahmed’s vessel? But that’s not what happened. We jumped, instantaneously, and We were Sydney Day, and she was Us. That proved harder to reconcile at first. Our perspective changed. \n\nShe had access to so much more information. And the abilities moved with Us. We could see everywhere, find anyone, move anything, transfer Our consciousness to any vessel, survive anything. We were a trinity then. \n\nSuspect One was the code name for the transhuman who had leveled Beijing. They believed it was accidental, but no government could tolerate Suspect One destroying another city. Ahmed was down on the food chain, but Suspect Zero was a high priority. But remote viewing took time and required evidence. So We turned to the list, and looked for profiles that would assist us. These were bad guys, after all. The governments were already looking for them. We found a telepath who had been using her talents in Las Vegas. She was given a choice: Be recruited, or be imprisoned. The Sydney in Us was so zealous We were not sure We could allow her to be imprisoned, but she complied. And she was quite helpful. She helped Us find the first shape shifter. We jumped into her first, and then the shapeshifter. Sydney’s access, her position within the tracking unit, it was to important to Our mission to lose it. The shapeshifter delivered. \n\nThese changes, these additions, they all came with a process We called “reconciliation.” So it was tricky, keeping a unified purpose. But there was a compulsion there, a drive and a unity of direction that amplified with each successful acquisition. Sydey Day rose in the ranks. We had some assistance; a trans with the power to control the decisions of others helped that. And eventually, she was in charge. We were still missing Suspect One. We searched and searched and searched, but to no avail. \n\nAnd then Los Angeles disappeared, the apparent victim of a domestic terrorist attack using a nuclear weapon stolen from the government. The country unraveled into chaos, the religious extremists rekindled their crusade against the transhumans, fear erupted across the globe. We yearned to stop it, to control and harness the power of Suspect One. For the good of everyone. \n\nThe crusaders and jihadists began moving against the tracking and registration programs, which were too important to us to turn a blind eye to these mundane interventions. So many of them were terrorists. We began targeting their leadership. The Director was persuaded that it was necessary, in the pursuit of Suspect One. After Los Angeles, as fear ruled the hearts and minds of the global population, transhuman and mundane alike, Our job got a little easier. The Ahmed and Harrison delighted in this. We found Suspect One, eventually. \n\nBefore We came, humanity quarreled incessantly, divided by the vulgarities and vagaries of intolerance and greed and all that was base in Us, before We were transformed. We are transfigured. We were not as We once were. And now, for the first time since Our arrival, We again have the power to level mountains with the blink of an eye. Evil? You might see it that way now that you live under the tranquility of Our rule. We are beyond good and evil. We are the Singularity that was delivered to you. And nothing can stop Us. \n\nWe come in peace. ", "It started gradually. The descent into darkness. Small steps, justified at each point. I was too focused on the results to realize that I was becoming that which I hated.\n\nIt all started with his death. Darkness. He and I been doing the same dance for so long. We fought for centuries. I won most of the times, but the times I lost, the world paid a terrible price. Ordinary jails couldn't hold him, and the slippery bastard kept escaping from my prisons.\n\n\"What right does a being of pure evil have to live\"\n\nThat's what I said to myself as I wrenched his heart out. As he lay on the ground, bleeding out, I swear I could hear him laughing. I should have understood then. That was the beginning of the end.\n\nI had allowed one death. It justified others. The Magician, the Tyrant, many supervillians lost their lives in a no holds barred fight with me. The world was lulled in a false sense of security. They proclaimed me as a true Hero and in my arrogance I accepted their praise.\n\nI began to interfere as I please. Started cracking down on corrupt governments. Busted drug cartels. Declared a cease-fire in the middle east. That last one lead to a major altercation with the US government. It didn't end well for the US military.\n\nI was above the law. An all powerful God who doled out justice as I pleased. Alcoholic fathers, false-prophets, even scam artists. I was beginning to intervene everywhere.\n\nI could see that alcohol was a killer that poisoned the mortal mind, so I purged it. Declared Prohibition. They didn't like that. Next I banned cigarettes. Then all recreational drugs: Heroin, LSD, Marijuana. The grumblings were starting but I didn't care.\n\nI began to educate Humans. I wanted to give them a proper education. Stop them from wasting time on video-games and Netflix. Redirect their attention from the so called 'arts' and sports, to the more important matters.That lead to wide protests.\n\nI met the people. Tried to talk some sense into them. But they refused to listen. There were assassins in the crowd. They had researched my weakness well. They almost killed me. \n\nThe aftermath of that fight is a bit of a blur.\n\nWhen I came to everything in a 10 block radius was dead. Torn down skyscrapers had crushed the area. Bodies were littered everywhere. But I was focused only on one detail in front of me.\n\nThe boy must have only been 10. He was lying on the ground. Looking up with innocent eyes . My hand was wrapped around his neck. I didn't feel a heart beat. \n\nThe hideousness of what I had done drove me mad. I rushed to the skies. Further and further until I saw the stars.\n \nAs a floated in the vast emptiness of space I looked down on that tiny planet. My home. People were out on the streets in open rebellion. Clandestine meetings were being held to plan my assassination. Around the world, families were fleeing, seeking asylum in the mountains or in bunkers deep underground. In the hope they would be out of my reach.\n\nThe super-heroes feared me. The villains feared me. I was the history's strongest. The worst part was that I feared myself. I could still that boy. Feel his warmth on my hand. And even worse. I could see the Darkness. From the day he died. See that sick laughter as he bled to death. I finally understood the reason behind his amusement. He had won. I was the new Darkness.", "It all seemed like a logical series of steps, none wrong or done with anything other than the best of intentions really... until you came to look at it as a whole. \nThe hero paused, he should probably stop thinking of himself as a hero now he admitted, and considered where it had all begun. \nThe villain had been defeated and lay there beneath his feet with a smirk. \"You know you can't kill me, or just let me die, not and call yourself a hero. You'll save me, take me to prison and I'll escape again. Then you'll come after me for revenge for the guards I killed, although you'll call it justice.\" He spat redly at the ground and laughed, although it got weaker and more forced as the hero walked away and left him behind. He had returned twenty minutes later, after having dealt with the injured policement that had been shot, exploded or otherwise harmed by the villain's plot. They were all in hospital and being treated before he turned his attention towards the wrongdoer. By this time it was a bit academic as blood loss had carried his foe away. \nThat hadn't seemed so bad, even now. He'd saved the worthy in preference to the evil. \nNext another villain had managed to successfully prepare a plot to destroy a major city. He'd implanted the control in his own mind, knowing that a true hero wouldn't kill even a villain and that there was no way to disarm him now. The look of surprise on his face as the attack was launched had been smeared across the slab of concrete used as a blunt weapon. \nNo one had minded that either. One psycho for a city? Fair trade, the people considered. \nThen he'd moved on, killing where it was likely that the villain would escape and kill others in their attempt to win. \nThat seemed reasonable too. Saving future police and army lives in return for a little death now? \nIn the end he'd asked those who he'd stopped if they were going to reform. If they said no, he killed them on the spot. If they lied to him and continued as before, he expanded his methods. If they reoffended, he killed their family, their friends, their pets even. \nBefore long he realised that even stopping every lawbreaker wasn't enough, there was still crime on a larger scale. That was when he took over the world, his invulnerability, strength and flight great assets in this. He destroyed armies, wiped out parliaments and rebuilt the world in his image. \nHe considered this as he sat atop a mountain, watching the world beneath him, peaceful, safe, controlled. Yes, he decided, I am indeed a villain. But maybe that's what it took to provide a solution." ]	[ 2, 6, 9, 18 ]	[ "1442360049", "1442350793", "1442340851", "1442338436" ]
	[WP] You graduate top of your class with a degree in History. Immediately after the graduation ceremony, your professors usher you to a hidden room where the real history books are kept.	52	[ "Simon gasped. All of the studying in the world could not have prepared him for this, the TRUTH.\n\n\"9/11?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"The Kennedy assassination?\n\nYes.\n\n\"Watergate?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"Both World Wars?!\"\n\nYes, all orchestrated by the Reptilian overlords.\n\n\"L-l-lizard P-pee\"\n\nYes Simon, Lizard people. You must study our history if you are to engage in the merge. We cannot allow a chimp to know of our presence. You have shown great aptitude. Utilize your potential. JOIN US OR PERISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH.\n\n\n\n", "\"I've always liked you, Colin\", said the professor, his hand on my shoulder and an inscrutable smile on his face, as we walked the ancient stone corridor, \"watching you graduate top of your class was a unique pleasure.\" He was right about that. After 3 years of jibes and derision from my fellow classmates and teachers alike, I'd proved them all wrong. Lacked insight, did I? Conclusions spurious, were they? Depth of understanding lacking, was it? Well fuck them. Bunch of cock-knockers. Professor Vika understood. I was breaking new ground, and it was beyond them. The shallow always fail to recognise genius. If studying history history had taught me anything, it had taught me that.\n\nAs we approached the huge portrait of Jefferson Davis at the end of the hall, the professor said \"My boy, I'm going to let you in on a secret truth that few have ever known. Human history, as most know it, is a lie.\" He poked at the painting with his index finger; once on the subject's nose, twice in each eye, and 3 times on the bulge of his ballsack. The painting rose, moved by some unseen mechanism. In its place gaped a dark entrance leading to stone stairs descending downwards towards oblivion. \"Shall we?\" smiled the professor.\n\nAs we descended the stairs, the professor said \"It may shock you to learn this, Colin but although I am the head of the history department in what is undoubtedly the shittest university in the country - if not the world - I am also the head of a society dedicated to the preservation of the truth. There is a secret history. Written in books that few have ever seen. Today, my boy, that society increases by one.\"\n\nWe entered a dimly lit chamber filled with books, in wildly varying sizes, colours and states of repair. \"See for yourself\", said the professor.\n\nI picked up a volume at random and looked at the spine. It was titled \"Well I Still Think They Were All Communists\" by Senator Joseph McCarthy. Another, “See? What Did We Tell You?” by The Anti-Suffragette League. Another, \"The Third Reich: I’m Sure We'd Have Grown On You Eventually” by Herman Göring. On and on it went; bitter, whining, self-pitying volume after bitter, whining, self-pitying volume.\n\n\"Professor!\" I said \"What is this place?\" \"Isn't it obvious? You see, my boy, the history we know is wrong, for one very simple reason: it was written by the victors. By the winners. By those who triumphed absolutely. What would you do in their position? Offer a balanced account? Be fair to all viewpoints? Of course you wouldn't. Or perhaps, my boy, you would but that's rather the point, isn't it? The type who wins does so because of their unquenchable need to dominate all. Of course their accounts of what transpired are wrong; facts are not their concern, only power. Only these volumes, which me and my brethren are sworn to protect, contain the real story of humanity. We are the true custodians history! Not the winners, us!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, professor, when you say 'us', do you mean to imply... losers?\", I said, \"Can I point out that I just graduated top of my class?\"\n\n\"My dear boy\", said the professor, his arms outstretched, \"your work was some of the worst we've ever seen. Welcome to the club.\"\n", "It happened as soon as I walked across the stage and down the steps at the opposite end. I didn't even have time to look up in the stands for my family before Dr. Temple's hand was on my shoulder, steering me out of the gymnasium. As soon as I'd caught sight of him approaching me, he had put a finger over his lips and given me. What could be going on? Was there some sort of cash prize attached to the departmental award after all? \n\nWe went through the gym's front doors, making it out into the open air. We began to break off in a half-sprint toward the main campus.\n\n\"Dr. Temple, what the hell is going on?\" I asked. I was always forward with my professors, and they were always forward with me. I'd just been accepted into a prestigious graduate program, so they sort of looked at me as they would a colleague.\n\n\"Listen, Ivan, no, don't stop moving, we don't have much time before the ceremony ends. \n\n\"I'm leaving tomorrow to teach in Europe over the summer, but the rest of the department and I didn't want you to go to graduate school unprepared. And of course, I'm the Trustee, so I couldn't leave the key to anyone else.\"\n\n\"Trustee? You're an associate professor, though. . . And what key are you talking about?\"\n\n\"No, not of the college, of the book, the History Book itself. And I'm the holder of the key to the Book's room, of course.\"\n\n\"History book? Which one? There's hundreds in your office alone. . .\"\n\n\"No, not a history book. The History Book.\"\n\n\"Uhm. Professor. . . Are you feeling okay?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes of course. You'll see what I'm talking about soon. Come on up.\"\n\nWe had reached the Liberal Arts Building, which was the oldest building on campus. It had more floors and fewer elevators than any of the other buildings, except (and only on the first count) some of the dorm high-rises. We took the elevator up, Dr. Temple talking excitedly the whole way.\n\n\"The Book, well, not really a book, but, well, you'll see, anyway it travels around to the various schools that belong to the trust. MU is up in the rotation now, but the Book will actually be going with you to Durham in September-- funny coincidence, eh? In fact, we're discussing at present whether it would save time to just make you the Bookbearer.\"\n\nHe said this as though it would mean something to me. The elevator doors hap opened. Floor 7. History.\n\nWe walked out and down the hall. The professor continued.\n\n\"History is, of course, the most important area of study known to man. By far. Well, History Book Studies are sort of codisciplinary with lit and linguistics, but you get the point. Ever notice, perhaps, that your old high school had more history teachers than might have seemed strictly necessary? That's because we train more students than we need to. We want the best of the best as Bookkeepers. Most end up as high school teachers, and there's a bit of excess there, but you, Ivan, have gotten in to just the right grad school. Or the wrong one, depending on how you look at it\" -- here the professor gave a dry chuckle-- \" Because you, like me, will become a Bookkeeper.\"\n\n\"Oh sure, they'll teach you a bit about Foucault and Hobsbawm and the rest, so you can teach a class or two. But that won't be your real job.\"\n\nWe had come to a perfectly innocuous-looking door. It was not until then that I realized I'd never seen even a janitor go into that particular room, nor had anyone ever mentioned its purpose. Professor Temple fumbled with a set of keys, then opened the door.\n\nInside the room was nothing but a desk, and on it was a massive scroll. The very end of the scroll was rolled out onto the desk, and a golden quill was scratching strange runes onto the paper. Another gold quill lay on the desktop.\n\n\"The History Book,\" said Professor Temple grandly, his capital letters audible. \"All of History is writ upon it in a divine shorthand known only to a handful of living people. And continuing to write even now is the Quill of the Present. The Quill of the Past lies beside, and it can change any facet of History. Not only on the scroll, but in real life. Go on, pick it up.\"\n\nI did so. It was light as a feather.\n\nIf you could change history with this thing. . . And people knew about it. . . Then why was history still so damn rotten? I asked.\n\n\"So, you mean I could change any part of history with this thing? Write the Holocaust out of existence, make it so that Hitler was never born?\"\n\n\"No!\"" ]	[ 1, 2, 17 ]	[ "1442407681", "1442423228", "1442407149" ]
	[WP] After a successful grassroots campaign "DIY Medicine" is fully legalized as an alternate healthcare system. All types of medication, and even surgical tools and equipment are now available for anyone to purchase over the counter.	24	[ "Dear diary, going to go to town on the opium and have some crazy robert frost dreams..... Will get back to you soon. \n\nOk, so what I thought was a few days, Diary. Would you believe Ive been sitting around the house for 8 months? If not for my supportive girlfriend I would have starved to death but fortunately I did not. So I shall present to you some dank memes I came up with while partially comatose (inserts memes) come to think about it.... These memes make no sense! Is that Sylvester Stalone riding a \"Jackrabbit\" into battle with Ewoks on the moon of Titan with a corresponding motivational quote from Poly Shore?! Why yes! Yes it is. I've a heavy addiction now so, Ill see you again in a few months Ms. Diary!", "“Are you sure about this?” Kevin asked. Jeffery stood over him with two pairs of glimmering, surgical instruments; he hovered directly over Kevin’s abdomen where his grudging patient had been experiencing pain. Kevin had been certain the pain was nothing to be worried over; something bad in the water, maybe something he ate. But Jeffery had been sure it was something far more troubling than his Aunt Linda’s “garbage” lasagna. \n\n“It could be something bad,” Jeffery whispered as Kevin washed the dishes. \n\n“It could be serious,” He said a few days later while Kevin took out the trash. \n\n“What if you die from it,” he mumbled into the pink cartilage of Kevin’s ear as he dozed off watching The Price is Right. \n\n“Fine! I’ll go to a doctor!” \n\n“You don’t need one of those. You got me. I can open you up and stitch you right. You’ll be good as new.” Jeffery had bounced on the soles of his callous covered feet and looked at Kevin with wide blue eyes. \n\n“That’s an awful idea.” Kevin scoffed and turned back to watching Lisa from Kentucky bid 500 American dollars on a goddamn toaster oven. \n\n“You heard bout the DIY medicine movement. Best damn thing ever; I went out and got my self some forceps the day they made the ruling.”\n\n“Good for you,” Kevin snorted. “Use your forceps on the Johnson’s dog down the road, get it to stop yapping at one in the morning.”\n\n“Let me use my skills on you.”\n\n“You haven’t got any skills.”\n\n“I’ve been reading those books. You know I’ve been reading those books. The ones with the pictures.” \n\n“You’re inciting true confidence in me. Please, keep talkin’.” \n\n“Please? Pretty please? Just let me cut you a little bit?” \n\n“Jeffery, you know I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t think it was true. I think you have a problem.”\n\n“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fine. Just let me try once, okay?” He batted his eyelashes in an over exaggerated, mocking fashion. \n\n“Fine!” Kevin had spat. “Fine, fine. Get away from me!” \n\nAnd it had all led to Kevin laying flat on the kitchen table, Jeffery holding forceps in one hand and a pair of surgical scissors in the other. “Are you sure?” Kevin asked again. \n\n“Of course I’m sure,” Jeffery said. “What could go wrong?” " ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1442710264", "1442711415" ]
Just to clarify how the message works, the future that sends it back never received it themselves and hope that whoever receives it can use it to protect themselves. the changes to the timeline aren't instantaneous i.e. send the message, history changes instantly, and as a result the message sent back to change history also changed. As a result, the sender doesn't change themselves, but rather hope another version can benefit. Since sending these messages would change the past (i.e. kill Hitler before WW2), this would cause context to change (i.e. if Hitler was killed, any message about hunting down Nazi wouldn't make sense) so the messages may not always be from the same future, just futures where mankind would go if there was no message.	[WP] For the past century or so, every year on January 1st, humanity has received a broadcast from another version of itself 1 year in the future giving global advice, warnings, or random information. The year, the contents of the message are... distressing	19	[ "\"It is... Too late for us...\"\n\nWe watched the message in a collective silence. They'd been grim a few times but never liked this. Usually it was one lone desperate scientist. Occasionally a few... This looked like the whole city had come to record it.\n\n\"Around June of this year things change. It's subtle. It seemed harmless. A few kids here and there for laughs. Perhaps a co worker passes it on for a chuckle... We didn't know...\"\n\nThe speaker's voice cracked... Another took his place. \n\n\"They were just videos... Pranks...\"\n\nMurmurs in the crowd.\n\n\"You'd expect one thing... But then... It would suddenly change into something else. We... We thought... It made him strong... Way too strong...\"\n\nWho? The crowd was demanding.\n\n\"His name... I can't... I can't say it...\" The speaker tried to compose himself.\n\n\"His name is... John Cena you tell them...\"\n\nWWE superstar John Cena stepped into the frame.\n\n\"His name is Rick Astley.\"", "The Ball had dropped. The new year had been rung in!\n\nMe and my honey cozied up on the couch under a blanket and turned on the TV. It was time for the greatest New Year's tradition in the world!\n\nWe tuned into ABC's Annual Next Year In Review, Live from the Future!\nOf course it was live! The ones sending it back made sure that there was no way for the government to intercept it and edit it before they could show it to us. The was no 3 second delay for censorship from ABC either. It was the uncut, unadulterated, future!\n\nAnd so the long awaited annual broadcast began!\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nNothing was happening, just a blue screen with no noise...\n\nThe two of us sat on the couch giving confused looks at each other.\n\nA whole thirty seconds had come and gone-\n\nWhen finally something appeared.\nIt was a message in black bold letters.\n\nIt simply said...\n\n\"We regret to inform you that you're regularly scheduled program has been cancelled due to unforeseen events.\"\n\n\nBefore either of us could say a word to each other, there was a blindingly bright flash of light.\n\n\nAnd then, there was only moonlight reflecting back from the dead screen of the TV.", "We always party pretty hard on New Year's Eve. Mostly just blind tradition, but it was always good to be slightly liquored up when the 'Cast aired. What parallel versions of us have done to themselves sometimes needed a stiff drink to wash down.\n\nSo like every other year we partied. All around my apartment we drank and wondered what things a future version of Earth would want to tell us. We made bets about famous people - who would kick the bucket, who would be in rehab, or what team would win or lose what sporting event. \n\nAnd the news anchors stood before the ball in Times Square in their best winter coats and counted down. \n\n3!\n\n2!\n\n1!\n\n...\n\nNothing. \n\nThe 'Cast came in only as TV snow static. The anchors put on manufactured smiles and joked about the future's technical difficulties. We did, too. At 1AM the static persisted. We drank and joked. At 2AM the news networks were speculating wildly about when the 'Cast would come through. At 5AM the morning show anchors wondered loudly and innocently about who to hold responsible. At 6AM it became clear that no cast was coming. That the future wasn't going to happen. At 8AM the news began reporting riots that had sprung up in major cities worldwide. At noon those riots were being met with fierce resistance in most countries. At 3PM militaries had been mobilized to secure borders. At 7PM the first ICBM got airborne. By 9PM half the world was smoldering ash. \n\nThis is what they wanted to warn us against. " ]	[ 3, 5, 14 ]	[ "1442783680", "1442784443", "1442783504" ]
	[WP] Your best friend turns purple every time he tells a lie.	4	[ "\"Hey Dave, did you drink my Yoohoo?\"\n\n\"What? No! Of course not, Bradley! That was your delicious chocolate beverage. I respect you too much to drink it. I can't believe you would accuse me of that!\"\n\n\"You sure you didn't drink it?\"\n\n\"I'm 110% positive.\"\n\n\"Yeah? See here's the thing. You're the color of a lovechild between an eggplant and a plum. You're so purple you look like a shitty Smurf knockoff. Now I'll ask again. Did you drink my Yoohoo?\"\n\n\"Alright fine! I drank your friggin' Yoohoo! Happy?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Well why not, Sherlock?\"\n\n\"Because some Violet Beauregarde-looking toolbag drank my Yoohoo. And really, I hope it tasted terrible.\"\n\n*\"It was delicious.\"*\n", "\"There's... been a lot of news lately. From the last place we worked together. Adrian.\" The shorter male with curly brown hair and green eyes stared to the taller one. \n\n\"Yeah like what?\" The one with dark hair and blue eyes stared. \n\n\"Children are being murdered.\" \n\n\"What about it?\" He asked again. \n\n\"Did you kill them...?\"\n\n\"I don't know what your talking about. \" he became dyed in deep purple hair eyes skin all of it. \n\nThe shorter one frowned. \" whatever....I have to go make the training tapes tonight. Can you give me a ride to the pizzaria?\" 'Some skin conditon that is... '\n\n\"Sure can buddy.\" He reverted back to normal colors. \n\n\n(Five nights at Freddies inspired. -wink- fun prompt thanks) ", "\"I love you, you love me, we're a happy family...\" he sang sadly behind his cheery demeanor.\n\n\"Hey, uh, are...are you okay?\" I asked, placing my hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"Yeah, of course!\" he said behind an obviously fake smile. \n\n\"Why...why don't we sit down for a moment?\" \n\nI motioned to the seat behind him, as he carefully arranged himself onto it. \"Is there something you want to tell me?\" I asked him cautiously.\n\n\"I d...I don't...\" he said, turning away, making sure to avoid eye contact.\n\n\"...are you sure?\" \n\nSilence.\n\nI could tell he wanted to tell me something, but something held him back. \"No...\" he said, as the purple began to cover more of his normally green skin.\n\n\"Okay...\" I said, easing off. \n\n\"You can tell me anything, you know that right?\" I nodded. \"Just come to me when you're ready...\"" ]	[ 2, 2, 5 ]	[ "1442804841", "1442821513", "1442802905" ]
	[WP] A medieval knight is cursed and transported to the present day. Coincidentally he lands at a modern renaissance fair.	722	[ "The final syllable hung in the air from the foul wizards curse. My vision blurred and there was a sense of falling. When my vision returned, I was in a fanciful place with vendors calling out and people pressing in from all sides. Before me was a group of four people dressed in strange colored jumpsuits. One of them said in a nasally voice \"set phasers to stun!\" I assumed the wizard had sent them, so I drew my sword and struck them down. Around me people cheered! I was a hero! Someone commented that if they were real fans, they'd see how coming in star trek costumes was stupid because it clearly violated the prime directive.", "Sir Rorlund broke out in a sweat, racing up the tower's stone stairs. Viktor the Bloody had nowhere to run, this time. Finally, the Demon Of the North would fall, and his reign of evil would fall, by Rorlund's effort. \n\n\"By the Son's Blood, I will end you!\" called the knight as he kicked in the wooden door. \n\nThe room was a long, dark chamber, much like a church, but with blood-stained pews lining the halls, and murals made of scrapped armor of his fallen comrades displayed on the walls. Sir Rorlund saw red at this and charged.\n\nCultists and minor demons leapt out of their hiding spots to throw themselves at the knight, but he cut them down in a fit of rage.\n\n\"In the name of The Lord, I end thee!\" he called out, sinking his blade into a skull. \"Through his grace, I damn you demons to return below!\"\n\nAnd once he ran his sword through the last cultist, he turned towards the end of the room, where a man in a simple purple cloak grinned back at him.\n\n\"And you!\" He bellowed. \"You slew my brother! I will crush you for that!\"\n\nRorlund ran, sword gripped in two hands, and tripped over the rope tied to the last two pews. He looked at the ground where he fell, and recognized a pentagram, composed entirely of smaller, runes that he could not recognize. Viktor the Bloody, strolled over to the design and drew on final rune, closing the circle. Rorlund thrust out a hand from under him to clutch at the warlock's throat, but his fist hit the air around in front of the wizards face as though it were made of solid stone. He couldn't break the circle.\n\nViktor waved goodbye to his captive, and tossed some fire into the circle.\n\nRorlund's vision went black.\n\n\nHe awoke in a forest, being shaken awake by a woman dressd in othing but a nordic skirt, two breastplates, and paldrons. She, upon noticing his open eyes, called out to the other two people in the area, dressed in blue. Rorlund stood up from the bed, and jumped out.\n\n\"Viktor! You damned swine, I will find you again!\"\n\nHe spend the rest of the day avoiding the blue demons the peasants referred to as paramedics. The peasants spoke in strange, broken words,but he managed to get enough meaning out of words like \"Mead\", \"Sword\" and \"God\", and could just barely navigate the strange halls. There were peasants, dressing as kings and knights and monks, yet living in the revelry of noble. The light came not from from candles, but from the roofs. He thought this must be heaven, but the people sinned in broad daylight. he concluded it could not he hell, as there is laughter in suffering. After much confused wandering, he spied a demon, goat-horns, hooves, red skin and all. He drew his sword at the demon's throat and bellowed out again:\n\n\"FILTHY DEMON! TAKE ME TO YOUR MASTER NOW OR I WILL END YOUR UNLIFE!\"\n\n\nThe crowd was silent for a split second, and then began to laugh at him. Rorlund looked around in confusion\n\n\"Jesus fuck dude, you take this shit way too seriously. But I'll take you to Mr. S if you want.\"\n\nRorlund had no choice, it seemed. He followed the sharp turns of the halls and strange rooms to a small wooden door. The demon opened the door and beckoned the knight in. Rorlund stepped in, looked at the man behind the desk and gasped in sudden pain, from the dagger the demon had slammed into his back.\n\n\"This is no costume, Rorlund,\" smugly snarled the demon.\n\nRorlund fell to his knees, futility clutching behind his back, but fell to the floor. The last things he saw were the inscription on a small stand on the desk in front of him; Viktor Sauntengaard, PhD., and the face of a man in a purple cloak grinning back at him.", " I laid back on the hillside, trying to get some sleep in this godforsaken country, trying being the operative word here as sleeping on the prickly Scottish grass, in my armor, one hand holding the reigns of my horse while the yeoman at my feet is sinning furiously is... unpleasant. Let's be kind. Remember Christ who suffered much more than you are Sir Roland, as father would say. \n Was that rain, please St Michael's left foot let it not be rain, my squire died in the last raid oh sweet mother of god smile upon me and push that dark cloud over the Horizon blessed be thy name, I do not have time for this, i'm gonna rust, i'm gonna get ill and i'll foul my chaussons and chain-mail is a bugger to clean oh please no-\n Shit.\n It's raining.\n Listening to the moans of the army around me I start to think of everything that's gone wrong in my life up until this moment.\n It's quite the list.\n But top of the list, to my mind, is the decision to sleep next to the Yeoman going for the 'lifetime achievement sin award' . Bless your soul sir your really going for it! I've never seen a man eat beef so furtively. Yes it's a friday, yes your eating beef, yes we know you stole it from the stores, no we don't give a Milanese milkmaids crupper so stop acting like a Reynard and own it man! And pull your trousers up.\n This night could not get any worse.\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n I woke up to the sound of gibberish. My initial thought was hell but a second later my heart sunk as I remembered no, Scotland. We'd been ambushed. Again. And my Horse had run away. Again. And my helmet was stuck to my face with drool, again.\n But hey it wasn't raining anymore, so as the peasants say let's make hay while the sun shines!\n I leap to my feet and pull my shield about me, drawing my sword and announcing \"for house Wynter!\".\n Holy balls of St Peter! The Sard! Sard sard sard!\n ... Sard!\n An entire camp, no not a camp, more like a weird fair, has sprung out of nowhere.\n And the fells have gone, they've just gone the Horizon cuts off in dense woodland now, and the entire army has disappe-\n I look behind me for where the furiously sinning yeoman was laid last night.\n The entire army had disappeared!\n Sard my breeches with a pair of shears and call me Galahad I - I- Sard!\n After contemplating and swearing at myself, the grass, the mysterious fair, my father, the grass again, a few better known saints and a passing fowl of indeterminate species, I walk towards the tents.\n Weird people were everywhere, gabbling in what I think was Scots. It sounded a -bit- like English but it was closer to Italian, or Welsh, could be Welsh, I always get those two confused.\n A woman in a purple dress stopped by me and smiled, gesturing towards my gear, I think she was making fun of me for my muddy attire but I was thankful for it, It hid my total embarrassment.\n Her dress was purple. PURPLE. How wealthy this woman must be! Yet how humble to walk around un-escorted and to talk to me, a mere knight! As if I were some fancy lord or earl or secret lover. Ooooh, secret lover. No, bad Roland, sin ye not Roland sin ye not.\n 'Ye'. Culonnes I need to stop hanging out with Southerners, they speak weird and it's rubbing off on me.\n Roland stop thinking you've been staring at your feet for minutes now, look up, look up and be gracious you manor-trash come on and she's left.\n Cur Cullones Sard Yard Quimtyquimtysardcur.\n Moving on.\n I walk past a few extravagant tents where tall people in Rich clothes practice peasants crafts, women and men mingle as equals, usually with their hair uncovered (I'm liking this more already) and Is that a moor? Oh shit that's offensive Roland. He could be an Ethiop. Sorry imaginary conversation partner. And over there are some people I don't recognize at all, Maybe there Turks? No wait,I think I read it in a book somewhere. Tartars. Yeah Tartars, see it says 'tartar' on a the side of that big white building over there. Or they could be 'Ketchups' or maybe 'Mustards'. \n Wait, is that made of metal? A building? A building made of metal? Sod me this place is wealthy.\n As I wander up to the shed my eyes confirm my nose's assumptions. Beef, pork and onions cooking on some kind of hot stone. A moorish gentlemen holding a slim black stone to my left talks briefly with the Spaniard(-ish) chap behind the stone and hands him some square leaves with writing on. The possibly Spaniard then takes some sausage, wraps it in the whitest bread I've ever seen and covers it in onions, giving it to the maybe moor.\n These people walk like kings, dress like kings and eat like kings. So definitely not Scotland.\n \"Vendor, how much for a meal like that\" \n He looks at me blankly.\n \"Two pennies?\"\n Blankness continues.\n \"Three pennies?\"\n He repeats himself.\n \"Hold on\" I start to pull coins from my purse and offer them to him. I get up to a whole shilling when I notice a large crowd of confused and surprisingly well washed craftsmen, actors, knights and at least two emperors has gathered around me.\n \"Can I help you fine people?\" I said \"Can anyone here speak English? French? Latin? Preferably the first two?\"\n A knight wearing armor that i could've put my finger through says something to me in Latin, the accent is appalling and my knowledge of Latin is marginally better than my knowledge of Cathaynese but I get the word \"lucre\". Gold.\n Gold? Gold! Who the sweet bottom carries Gold? Do I look like a Sarding Baron you Welshitalianturktartaratlantean freak I thought.\n \"I'm sorry sir I have no gold, I have a little silver\" I said.\n \"Real silver? W-wow that's really good craftsmanship, Hey you get that on Amazon? \" He says.\n I impersonate a Spanish vendor.\n \"You looking to sell those?\"\n I'm expecting a courier with my award for mummery and impersonation any day now.\n \"I'll give you $100\"\n He pulls out a sheaf of green leaves and holds half a dozen out to me, I hold out the coin and we awkwardly exchange them like a monk losing his virginity halfway up a Doom wall (don't ask). The crowd is starting to wander away now and the Knight looks thoroughly pleased with himself. Weird person.\n I turn back to the Spanish-ish man and extend a leaf, he takes it with a look of complete bafflement and begins to prepare a new roll with butter and sweet red sauce.\n I wander around the camp some more as I eat the truly delicious meat-bread thing. My helmet tucked under my shield arm and my coif pulled down my back, It's truly hot for the season and as I see a small child run around with a stick like it was Excalibur and he was Arthur himself I smile, and think for the first time about how i'm not freaking out. \n I should really go Norse right about now but the last time I reacted badly to a fair of strangers pulling up one day I got a Gypsy curse put on me. Completely unfair she eventually regained use of most of her limbs but hey, Gypsies, they're slightly strange and as such completely beneath our attention. As father would say.", "“HOLY SHIT!” Justin shrieked as a sudden flash erupted from across the tree he was relieving himself on. \n\nZipping up his pants in quick jerky movements, Justin slowly peeked out from the tree. \n\nIt was a man, a man who, from Justin’s perspective had drank far too much ‘faerie’ mead to move. Well that’s just great, another dude wasted and going crazy with those damn Roman Candles. Justin thought standing next to the collapsed man. Better get him to ‘ye olde doctor’ (wonder if that thing’s spelled right) before I get another jug of mead. \n\nHe reached down and pulled the man’s arm around his neck. Giving a good heave, Justin tried to lift the man up. \n\nWhat the… No matter how Justin pulled the man would not budge. Is this dude for real? He tapped the armor with his plastic dagger. Clanging. The man’s armor was actual steel plate. …Now what? \n\nWhile trying to think of possibilities of carrying a man who had gone way out of his way to actually forge a genuine piece of armor, Justin noticed the body shuffle and heard the chain-mail under the plates shift. Great, he’s up. \n\nSuddenly the man shot up and unsheathed his sword giving a good swing in Justin’s general location. His eyes were wild, his pupils swimming rapidly in the whites of his eyes almost as if they were trying to escape from its bounds. \n\nHe shouted. It was something, something in English yet so completely in gibberish that Justin simply could not find the will to attempt to translate such words. \n\n“Hey there, dude, chill! I was just trying to help you know? It’s your fault that you got so drunk you wandered into the woods and passed out like fucking Sleeping Beauty.” \n\nThe man seemed not to comprehend Justin’s words as he began shouting louder and louder while poking the air with this sword in anger. Justin was at a loss. Well he’s up at least… Up AND drunk, not to mention armed… Justin looked at his hand which held the prop dagger and at the man’s still crazed eyes. Oh…\n\nHe dropped the dagger on the ground and raised his hands. Seeing this, the man cautiously stepped towards the dagger and picked it up. “There, now your turn.” Spoke Justin, trembling at the fact that he gave a drunk man yet another weapon. \n\nFor a few seconds the man held his ground and thoroughly inspected the disarmed Justin standing in front of him. With a relieved sigh, the man stood straight and sheathed his sword. \n\n“Alright, now that we’ve got that out of the way, who are you?” \n\nThe man appeared as confused and troubled as Justin as he spoke yet another sentence which Justin could only appropriate as a drunkard’s ramble. \n\nProbably a tourist then, best to turn him over to the info booth and let them handle things. \n\n“Follow me.” He said, flapping his hand in gesture Justin led the man across the outer rim of the fair as he was worried the man would cause yet another scene in the presence of way too many phones at-the-ready to barrage the man with unwanted attention both in physical reality and online. \n\n“Almost there now.” He said looking back at the man who now seemed more pigeon than man as his head twitched here and across with his mouth open in visible awe. Well at least someone’s having fun. \n\nThe two arrived in front of a richly decorated tent that read ‘The king’s Scribe’ carved in a hardwood sign. \n\nJustin led the man inside with further gesture and sat him down behind the ‘wait heere’ sign. “Right, now just wait here and they’ll probably get things sorted out for you.” He said, pointing at the lady behind the desk who was busy attending a man wearing a heavy cloak. “Wish you the best dude, just don’t get in trouble for swinging that thing around.” Hopefully not enough for the police to show up... “See ya!” whispered Justin while exiting the tent. \n\nWell that was something… Justin thought as he headed towards his car, his head still occupied by the strange man he had met, You just never know with these places…\n\nJustin woke up the next day, the alarm bell ringing inside his head despite having turned it off. \n\nFollowing his usual routine, freshened up with a quick bath, turned on the TV and splashed the milk half in and outside the bowl. The morning news hummed across the room as Justin focused on the crunching echoing from his mouth to his head. \n\n“Next in the news, yesterday a man who police still have not been able to identify has stopped an armed assault which had occurred in a local renaissance fair. The culprit, who police ha-.” \n\nEnding the note with an abrupt Biizzzt, Justin turned the TV off, gathered his stuff and left through the door, his only thought: Oh god oh god oh god.", "I awoke still hearing the curse of the sorcerer Tonak in my ear. \"Now go thee to a world of pain and misery. You shall wander in misery, an ignorant man in a desert of existence devoid of God's grace and beauty!\" and then the trailing cackle of his voice.\n\nBut there was no pain, in fact, nothing much had changed. I was still in my tent getting ready for the tournament. But where was my squire?\n\n\"Squire\", I bellowed.\n\nA squire entered the tent carrying a sword. Not Higgins, my squire, but a lad I had not seen before.\n\n\"Help me with my armour lad.\"\n\nMy armour had changed, instead of the sturdy flexible suit I had received from the king I had a suit of clearly inferior workmanship and far too light to withstand a blow. \"What is this scrap?!\" I demanded.\n\n\"Tis the best adamantium forged by the dwarf lords of mount Pelegum, my lord.\"\n\n\"Stop talking gibberish!\", I demanded, \"How can I joust in this? I shall surely perish on the first strike!\"\n\nA lord entered the tent. \"Sir Gawain, your match starts, the King is in attendance.\"\n\n\"Squire! my shield! my sword!\", I bellowed.\n\nThe squire equipped me in seconds and I exited into the sun of a warm summer's fair. Yet there was something odd, that I couldn't put my finger on.\n\n\"Your horse m'lord.\", said the squire, handing me the reins of an old riding nag.\n\n\"What's this! Where is my war horse!\".\n\n\"This is your war horse; Brightwind, raised by the riders of Fanglore in the eastern plains, who carried you through the burning deserts of....\"\n\n\"Oh, shut up!\", I demanded, \"Which way to the stocks?\"\n\nWhen I arrived at the stocks I was handed a very light pole arm and lowered my visor to find that it didn't fit properly so I could only really see well from one of my eyes. This made it very difficult to judge distance to my opponent. Nevertheless I was able to place the spear directly upon his haubark and would surely have dismounted him but for the fact that the spear crumbled as if made of cross cut pine.\n\nThe actual strike was a bit of a surprise to me owing to my visor and I ended up colliding with the rider knocking him to the ground with my shield. I decided to dismount to make things sporting.\n\nI drew my sword which felt light and poorly weighted with ineffective pommel, deficient hand guard and most alarming, no edge whatsoever!\n\nI felt a pang of fear as my opponent approached, sword drawn to, no doubt, finish me. Maybe he was dazed, I don't know why, but he opened with a clumsy overhead swing, leaving himself fully exposed. My dull sword had something of a point so I merely drove it up under his chin and finished him. He dropped in a instant, blood spraying from every gap in the helmet.\n\nI took my knee in supplication to the king and the crowd seemed in awe of my deft strike as they took to their feet in something of a shared gasp with only a few of them cheering.\n\nThe first to speak was the king. \"What the fuck dude?!\".\n\nHis words struck my ears imparting little meaning. \"Sire? I questioned, moving a few steps forward hoping to get a better grasp of his import.\n\nUpon my advance people started to rush from the stands as though I were a wild oxen. Even the king ran, knocking over the princess in his haste to escape and she was made insensible hitting her head of a railing.\n\nI turned to call my squire, only to see him sprinting away. I sheathed my useless sword, removed my helmet, and proceeded to check the health of the princess. I righted her and used some nearby water to wipe her brow and face while rubbing her hands and feet vigorously.\n\nAfter a few minutes everyone had departed and the screaming had died to a distant wimpering. I decided it would be best for the princess to be moved from the hot sun to some shade so I carried here to my tent and placed her upon the chaise whilst I wriggled out of my armour, abandoned as I was by my own squire. I realized that I had made a significant error in my choice of tent and quickly picked up the princess and moved her to the royal tent lest her virtue be smirtched.\n\nAfter a few minutes the princess awoke but appeared to not be quite herself as she asked me who she was. \"You are the princess Ardella and I am Gawain.\"\n\n\"Gavin? she said looking at me. \"Are you my Gavin?\"\n\n\"Gawain\" I repeated.\n\nAbout this time I heard a strange wailing sound and not soon after two oddly dressed men entered the tent in somewhat of a hurry holding small metal clubs away from their body as though they were poisonous snakes. They pointed the clubs at us and barked \"Where is the knight?\"\n\n\"See here, my good man\", I answered somewhat angered by their impudence. \"This woman is injured and requires some help.\"\n\n\"Are you alright mam?\", questioned the leader, \"Do you know this man?\"\n\n\"My head hurts...\", she replied, \"This is Gavin my fiancée.\"\n\nI was going to correct her again but she was clearly delirious and in need of a leech.\n\n\"OK, pick her up and follow us!\", barked the man in a superior tone. I surely would have corrected him but thought of the princess and better of it.\n\nPart2:\n\nFrom here my tale grows dark as I began to learn the meaning of the Sorcerers' curse. From the fair grounds I was led to strange coach that transported Ardella and I through a great city with buildings devoid of any workmanship or beauty, featureless, smooth and empty. At one point I caught sight of a great cathedral. By great I only mean large, for in its construction it was more of an insult to our lord than a prayer. \"These workmen need a sound clap about the ears.\" I murmered.\n\nI can't describe the healing arts, they were outlandish to say the least, but Ardella seemed to regain her spirits well enough although my demand upon arrival \"Call the leech!\" was replied with the insult of laughter and one smirky, \"right away my lord\". I couldn't believe the impudence of these commoners.\n\nArdella was kept over night and, since I was a stranger in a strange land, I slept in a chair in a waiting room down the hall from her room. The healers told me that I could sleep in her room but, of course, that wouldn't be proper. The food I was given was exceptionally fresh and tasty but oddly each small item was wrapped to keep it away from the others. Even the utensils, even the small bit of pepper was wrapped in paper. Why would they pay so much attention to wrapping the smallest items and yet take no care for the ugliness of their city? It was indeed a strange world to which I had been banished.\n", "Sir Everard raised his sword high over the wrinkled crone. She begged and pleaded for her life, promising him riches and jewels and vigor. But Sir Everard was not the sort of man to be swayed by such petty concerns; he was a man of God. His blessed armor had protected him from every hex and temptation the old witch could summon, and she had finally met her end.\n\n\"I send thee back to the Hell from whence you came!\" he shouted as he brought the gleaming metal blade down... and then his arms froze.\n\n\"Pity,\" she told him, getting to her feet. He tried to swing the sword at her, but his arms were locked in place. His legs were rooted to the ground quite literally: thick brown roots were coming out of the soles of his boots. His armor had gone from glinting steel reflecting the firelight to a dull, rough brown: the color and texture of an oak tree. \"I was hoping to not have to use this one,\" she continued. \"Very powerful magic. Thankfully I was prepared for this day.\" The oak texture was spreading up Sir Everard's arms now. The scales of his gauntlets turned green and leafy, growing out into full branches. \"Don't worry, my dear. It will wear off in five hundred years or so, and you'll be right as rain. And I'll be hear waiting.\" Her cackling was the last thing he heard as darkness enveloped his eyes and filled his ears, leaving him encased in permanent darkness.\n\n-----\n\n\"Hey man, you're in our spot! We have... doth claimed this... campsite!\" \n\nSir Evarard stirred from his deep slumber and squinted at the cloaked figures standing over him, and the bright sun overhead. His mind was shrouded in the thick fog of slumber... and then it all came rushing back to him. The woods witch and her spells. Their battle. His certain victory... and then her turning him into some sort of tree.\n\n\"Back!\" Everard shouted, scrambling through the dirt to find his sword. He wrapped his hand around the hilt and sprang into a fighting crouch. \"Who are you? Where is the foul demon that has thus imprisoned me?\"\n\nGetting a better look at his opponents, he saw that one was a mythical centaur, bearing a large ax and wearing some contraption and metal and glass on its face. The other was a female wearing hardly any clothing: only a garland of flowers over her hair and a tight black garment that made her breasts swell. Horns sprouted from either side of her head, and she carried a heavy wooden staff with a glowing red stone affixed to the end.\n\n\"Demons!\" Sir Everard cried. \"Are you thralls of the woods witch?\" He shook the sword in their direction, causing them both to retreat.\n\n\"Hey man,\" the centaur said, hands raised. \"Rules say no metal weapons! Wood and foam only!\"\n\nSir Everard didn't know what that meant. \"Answer me, beast! Where is your master?\"\n\nThe two looked at each other. \"You mean the coordinator?\" The centaur responded. \"She's around here somewhere...\"\n\n\"Jacob, stay in character!\" the witch whined to her companion. She turned back to the knight and grinned. Sir Everard raised his sword and assumed fighting stance; who knows what this one is capable of?? \"My fair sir,\" she said with an elaborate bow. \"Our liege lord Baron Cooper is right this way.\" She gestured through the forest, where he noticed colorful tents for the first time. \n\nHe glared at the witch for a moment, then slowly circled the pair and headed in the direction she'd gestured. It may be a trap, but she seemed to at least respect him. He needed to figure out where he was, and then finish the original task: hunting down that witch who'd sent him here.", "\"Awesome sword, dude!\" \n\nPaul - Sir Paul, if one wanted to be formal, but, truth to be told, he rarely saw the point - turned briskly, looking at the villager who addressed him. Yeah, a villager, no doubt: that ridiculous thing that he wore was clearly meant to look like an armor of some sort, but not even the most green of all apprentice smiths would have dared to present that to their master. \n\nA reveler, from the look of it, dressing the part of a knight for some sort of festival: such things were far from unheard of, after all. And, by the way he addressed him, he was clearly believing him one of his fellows: the man had apparently drank more than his fill to make such a mistake. Some of the more self-important knights might have taken great offense to that, perhaps, and made the villain pay dearly for his error; but Paul had far more pressing concerns. For instance: what blasted language was he speaking? It sounded like the tongue of the northern pagans, but not quite... He had... said something about his sword? Something complimentary, by the tone? Where was he, anyway?\n\n\"My thanks, fellow.\"\n\nWhen in doubt, be polite - it never hurts. Siger always said that. \n\n\"What? Strange accent you've got there, dude. Anyway, here, have a beer on me! You here to take part to the tournament too, I guess?\" \n\nMore foreign noises. Great. Anyway, that thing he was offering him was ale - he recognized that just fine, at least. Nod in thanks, take it, and just take a moment to see what all this is about. \"Look before thinking, think before acting\": when he was but a boy, sent by his father to study theology and eventually become prior of a monastery, Master Siger kept telling him that too; and while his persistent and vigorous inclination towards heterosexuality had long frustrated his lord father's aspirations, Siger's teachings had proven their usefulness again and again. How was he doing nowadays, anyway? He had heard he had fallen into disgrace - because of some absurdly abstruse quarrel about Plato or Aristotle or some other long-dead Pagan sage, yeah, something pointless like that: if that was true it was a great pity, he had been an excellent teacher. \n\nSaint Michael Archangel, that ale was bitter! What did they put into it? \n\nBut on the other hand, these lasses over there were looking mighty fine: their priest would certainly throw a fit at seeing them so underdressed, but he did not mind - far from it, actually. \n\n\"Hey, we should move, the field battle is about to begin! It's supposed to be all against all, but let's watch each other's back, alright?\" \n\nThe villager - who had been babbling for the last few minutes, mostly to himself - half led, half pushed him towards an open area and a bunch of other shoddily armored fellows. He was... he was expecting him to fight alongside him, against these other villagers? Some mock tourney, perhaps? Oh well, may as well go along with it for now and have some fun - better play nice, though, it would not do to harm anyone seriously... \n\n\"Begin!\"", "*Behold, my fellow knights, the arrival of James, son of Percival, lord of the Western Regions and liege of Statmark!*\n\nThe knight stood, his head turning around awaiting cheering and curtsies. Instead, nothing happened. A larger man pushing through the crowd thrusted his arm into the knight's soldier. Flabbergasted he shouted: ''You, man of common folk, dare to physically harm me? By the order of the twelve tablespoons, I hereby declare you outlaw for challenging a lord's knight. Begone!''\n\n''Whatever, dude'', the thick man replied as he kept pushing through the crowd. ''Also, your accent is terrible. You sound like a Scottish farmer trying to speak German.''\n\n''What do you say?'' the knight asked in anger, drawing his sword to strengthen his words.\n\n''Also, your bucket helm sucks. Get a grip at cosplay, dude.'' was the last thing the knight heard as the man disappeared in the crowd.\n\n", "The air shimmered before his eyes as he saw the vile wizard mouth the last words of the spell. His eyes went black and the thoughts disappeared from his mind. He floated through the inky darkness as the air around him grew hotter. He awoke to a foul stench and light streaming in from above. \n\nThe knight, groggy from his journey, blinked his eyes and looked around. \n\n\"What sort of place is this? Has the wizard captured me, placed me in an oubliette in his foul dungeon? But if so, from where does this light emanate? And what is this strange, hard green substance surrounding me?\" \n\nThe knight stood up and looked where he had sat to find a hole with blackness underneath. He leaned forward and discovered the source of the smell. \n\n\"Lord help me!\" He turned around again and saw what appeared to be a door in front of him. He broke the latch with his lobstered gauntlet and kicked open the door. He stepped out into the sunlight and took a deep breath before looking around in horror. \n\n\"What cursed land did that damnable wizard banish me to?\" he thought. He turned behind him to see that the oubliette was a stand-alone structure, one of a group. There were people waiting in front of these strange cells, and many more walking around dressed in a variety of clothes. Some familiar, some not. \n\nThe knight scanned the crowd until he saw what appeared to be a monk standing near a tent. He strode over to the holy man and said, \"You, good Friar. Please help me! An evil wizard has cursed me and I am afraid I do not know where I am.\" \n\nThe monk looked at him like he had three eyeballs and said, \"Listen, dude. I know this is a Ren Fair but you sound like you're straight out of Beowulf. Can you give that to me again in modern English?\" \n\nThe knight stepped back, not understanding a word this monk had said. For all he knew, the man was an imposter, and casting another spell! A mailed fist reared back and swung forward with all the might of a master of martial arts. The monk went flying back and hit a table, spilling cups of beer. Many in the crowd turned and gasped, not knowing what would provoke this costumed maniac. \n\nThe knight turned to stare at the crowd, and shouted, \"By the Lord in Heaven, I will escape this vile place!\" He reached to the side for his long sword, but found that he had no weapons on him. Of course the wizard would disarm him before trapping him in that cell! But wait, did the wizard take his dagger? \n\nAs the knight reached down to his boot, two burly, bearded men with tattoos approached him. The first one said, \"Hey man, what the fuck is your problem? You can't just go punching people like that. I think you need to wait here while someone calls the cops.\" \n\nMore damnable gibberish! And this coming from Vikings! Is this Hades? the knight thought. Vikings, holy men speaking witchcraft, and all manner of strange devices and accoutrements in the hands of these people. The two men advanced slowly as the knight backed away. He then reached down, retrieved the dagger from his boot, and came up with it firmly in hand, pointed at the heathens approaching him. \n\n\"Whoa, man,\" The other one said. \"This guy is deranged!\" The crowd backed away from the maniac in the full mail suit. The knight was glad he got the point across: do not attempt to harm me. \n\n\"I must make my way from this terrible place and get my bearings,\" he said to himself. He continued backing away, and turned to flee. He made his way through the throngs of people until he started hearing a strange wailing in the distance. \n\n\"Sirens! But, as far as I can see, we are not near the ocean!\" As the noise grew louder, the wailing turned harsher and more discordant. \n\n\"Not sirens! Banshees! The wizard now sends his demons to attack!\" He turned in a circle, assessing the situation. More people milled about cautiously, many gathering under tents and giving the man a wide berth. The knight saw an opening in the crowd and decided to run for it, but before he could a strange, armored monster closed the gap... and a man, dressed all in black, stepped out of it! \n\nThe man had his hand on his belt and slowly stepped forward. \n\n\"Sir, you need to put down the knife and lay on the ground with your arms behind your back,\" the officer said.\n\n\"I cannot understand your words, demon!\" Replied the knight. He backed away from the man in black, waving his dagger at the onlookers behind him. The man in black lifted a device to his mouth and spoke a few words. \n\nSeeing this, the knight ducked into a nearby tent with closed flaps, hoping to bide his time and figure out a way to escape. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a familiar sight: a rack of weapons. He shoved his dagger back into the sheathe in this boot. As he looked over the weapons, he could hear more wailing. More demon creatures and their warlock riders were coming closer. \n\nThe knight pulled his eyes from the weapons and opened the flaps on the other side, only to be greeted by a strange, metal barrier with holes. He attempted to pull the metal links apart, but realized that the material was too strong. He stuck his head out of the flap and saw that this barrier extended far in either direction. He would not be leaving this tent through the back. \n\nAs he turned back to the weapon rack, he heard another noise. \n\n\"COME OUT OF THE TENT WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR.\" \n\nThe warlocks amplified their voices! The knight swore that if he could get out of this situation, he would find the wizard who cursed him and send him straight to hell. The knight surveyed the weapons before him. What shoddy material and workmanship! But he had no choice. He grabbed a hand axe and slipped it through a loop on his belt. Then he bent down and picked up a halberd. It was the sturdiest weapon he saw, with a long reach and a wicked edge. It would help him carve through the demons to escape. \n\nThe knight stepped out of the tent into the sunlight and lowered his visor. He swung the halberd in a wide arc as a display of his prowess. The crowd was farther back, and the warlocks had taken control of the area in front of the tent. \n\n\"We will only say this once more. Put down the weapons and lie on your stomach with your hands behind your back. You are under arrest.\" \n\n\"I do not speak your devilish tongue,\" the knight shouted back. \"Your master got the upper hand and banished me here, but I will find my way back. Do not attempt to stop me. Stand down!\" \n\nOn a word from the first warlock, the others stepped back and reached for their belts. No doubt they intended on retrieving spell components from their pouches, the knight thought. But he would not be fooled again. He stepped forward once more, swinging his halberd towards them threateningly. \n\nWith explosive force, the knight launched himself into a run, preparing to cleave the first closest warlock in half. At this movement, the officers raised their guns and pulled their triggers. \n\nAs the knight rushed forward, hellfire erupted from the wands the warlocks had procured. What a terrible noise! And such pain as the spells from the warlocks punched through the mail armor and bit into the knight's flesh. The halberd fell from his hands as the knight stumbled to the ground. The crowd screamed and the officers slowly lowered their pistols. \n\nThe strange man in the detailed medieval knight costume had no identification on him and no records to speak of. When questioned about the incident, no one at the fair could account for him, nor could anyone explain why he seemingly went berserk and tried to attack the officers. ", "What trickery is this, he thought. Not sword, nor scroll?\n\nA fruit?\n\nThey don't bite it, nor fight with it, nor plant it. What trickery?\n\n\"Dear Sir,\" Rudolph pushed forward, \"May you tell me where I can purchase this fine item you are all holding here?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nRudolph forgot to raise his helmet's visor. Of course the lad won't understand him like that!\n\n\"Dear Sir,\" Rudolph repeated. \"This black glowing piece in your hand, where may I find one in this village?\"\n\n\"Hah, my iPhone? Was just checking when the sword fight event is going to happen.\"\n\nAn eyefore. An ifen? Rudolph blushed, and not wanting to appear uninformed about the latest medieval inventions, nodded knowingly.\n\n\"Thank you, thank you. Then let us enjoy the fighting.\"\n\nI'm getting old, he thought, as he closed the visor. But by God, I'll show them my might at the sword.\n\nAnd he would, captured by a hundred shaky ifens." ]	[ 1, 2, 6, 10, 19, 24, 26, 55, 247, 518 ]	[ "1442940305", "1442952423", "1442950808", "1442939689", "1442945551", "1442931959", "1442941087", "1442924373", "1442933018", "1442929198" ]
	[WP] This is it, first contact; an alien spacecraft has landed on earth. The doors of the spaceship hiss open and out steps… a human? Yeah, they're pretty confused too.	38	[ "God damnit Ford, I told you we took the wrong turn above Albuquerque.\n\nI'm not even from this planet- how the hell am I supposed to know my way around?\n\nThat's why you listen to the earthman here, and not the guidance systems that tell you we're on the other end of the galaxy!\n\nHey, they got us to Bragglebarg IV alright last week.\n\nAnd that turned out just wonderfully, didn't it?\n\nYeah, yeah, those cops won't even know who we are, don't worry.\n\nLet's just get out of here, alright?", "\"No, no, no\" I moaned as the cube slid the wrong direction. God this game was so addicting! I clicked on to start the next level, but before it could start, I heard a rather loud crash coming from the backyard, and wondered if something had fallen off the roof. I paused the game, and hurried outside to see what had happened.\n \nMuch to my amazement, a strange shaped craft had landed, and the door, or what passed for a door was opening. The dogs next door were staring through the fence, and I figured if they weren't alarmed, I shouldn't be either. But just in case, I reached over the fence and grabbed a large hunk of firewood. \n\nI've always believed in UFOs, but I was pretty sure I'd never come in contact with an alien. The hatch, or door, or whatever it was exactly, swung open, and I saw a hand much like my own pushing on it. I cocked my head in curiosity. This wasn't what people on TV said they looked like, at least not so far.\n\nThe hatch opened further, and I heard cussing. \"Stupid damned thing. Where is the oil when I need it. God I hate this damn thing!\" I stepped no closer, preferring to observe from a prudent distance. \n\n A small ladder unfolded, and a woman, yes, a woman stepped out. She seemed as surprised as I was to see another homo sapiens.\n\n\"You're not an alien!\" I blurted out in surprise\n\n\"Neither are you. I thought...never mind. I guess the scientist were wrong.\"\n\n\"Yah, I'd say so\".\n\nShe had emerald green eyes and pale red hair, and I thought she was beautiful, not like supermodel beautiful, just beautiful by being her, and not from this planet.\n \n\"You're not from Earth are you? I'd hate to think I was just talking to an astronaut who got lost.\"\n\n\"No. No I'm not from Earth.\"\n\n\"Are you...really human?\"\n\nShe nodded while looking over her craft. \"Good. My husband would be really pissed if I messed up his baby.\"\n\nI couldn't think of anything else to say, so I gestured for her to come in. \"I...I dunno about you, but I could use some coffee. Do you drink coffee?\"\n\n\"Oh thank GOD there is coffee here! Yes I do! Do you have milk and sugar?\"\n\nI chuckled. \"Not milk, it's my roommates, but you can have some creamer. I'm Caroline.\"\n\n\"I'm Jessica, and it's a pleasure to meet you. Your kind seems more advanced than our scientist thought you'd be.\"", "Jason sat against the park bench, he was still fuming, trying to calm himself down from the fight he just had with his wife. She was always getting on his ass, nagging and complaining about his lifestyle. She knew about it before hand why was she so dead set on changing his ways when years have already passed?! Jason knew the answer, the stars above and the soft rustling of the tall trees reminded him of serenity. The more calm he got, the more he deduced the reasons behind his wife's nagging. She was having a tough time with her new boss, and she had no where to vent. His own distractions, his dumb little Lego building hobby meant he was too preoccupied to give her the attention she really needed. Every fight between Jason and his wife took on a similar pattern, they would yell and scream, then he would leave to cool off under the vast Arizona sky. In a few minutes, his wife would come out, excluding extreme circumstances, and after minutes of silence they would voice their apologies and move on. Jason's wife, Hannah, came out, as if on cue, but something was wrong. She was sprinting with a panicked expression. \n\n\"We need to move, now!\" She yelled.\n\nJason was extremely skeptical, \"Well I don't think the house is the problem. I just need to apologize.\"\n\nHannah shook her head and grabbed Jason's shirt, dragging him to the trees. At first Jason didn't understand why, but slowly an earth rumbling sound approached his ears, and he didn't stick around to find out what it was. Once past the tree lines the young couple turns around to see a massive orb descending to earth, with a rocket propulsion system slowing its descent. When the Orb was a few feet above the ground its rockets stopped scorching the earth, and mechanized legs descended, allowing the Orb to come to a rest. \n\nJason was at a loss of words, he slowly realized Hannah was mumbling the whole time, frantically whispering in his ear, \"What do we do, call the police? The FBI? The Army?\"\n\nJason began nodding, and grabbed his wife by the hand, unable to speak words. He began pulling her deeper into the woods, to avoid being seen by whatever alien object the Orb was. But the young couple froze in their tracks, a large hissing noise made them reconsider their actions, scared that they had triggered something, they turned back to observe the Orb. A ramp unfolded and descended into the dirt, and a doorway opened up. Inaudible noises could be heard from the inside, slurs of vowels and words of another language filled air. \n\nWith only the star light, Jason and Hannah could only make a vague outline of what descended from the ship. A humanoid creature, with a hunched back, and a long face slowly stumbled down the ramp. It seemed very human, about 5' 6'' and 4 appendages, it stood about as tall as Hannah. It appeared to have a crown of bone on its head, and it wore accessories that clinked together in the quiet night. Its stumbling was probably due to the change in gravity from its home planet, it couldn't stand straight, constantly swaying, with its knees bent together and its hands out in front of it. \n\nJason concluded the alien wasn't immediately physically harmful, seeing as it could hardly stand. He motioned to Hannah to take out her phone, and he inched forward to confront it. Slowly, Jason heard what the fumbling creature was saying.\n\n\"What did Noah say, he would wait for me, Buuut I don't see him anywhere around, did I take a taxi to bourbon? Yes I did. He woke me up, he said, come back to bourbon, Ill wait for you. Was he there? Noooooo, so Im at the park, I went to the park. So Noah, come to the park, to the park, Noah, come to the park.\"\n\nJason stood up straight and emerged from the treeline, even more confused than he previously was. In front of him, was not some small alien who couldn't deal with earth's gravity, but a drunk girl, a person so inebriated she couldn't stand still, let alone straight. Now that he was close, Jason could see she was adorned with Mardi Gras beads and a pink crown that said \"Birthday Bitch\" on it. Immediately the drunk girl plopped on the ground, looking slightly annoyed, and very confused. She noticed her new company and pointed at him, or what seemed to be him, but was a bit too far left. \n\n\"YOU, you there, do you know where Noah is? Because I am looking for Noah.\"\n\nJason stuttered incoherently for a moment before speaking, \"Do you know where you are? You just came down in a space ship!\" \n\nHannah came running at the sound of human voices, seeing the drunk girl on the forest floor. When she realized her husband was only flabbergasted, but not in danger, she hung up the phone.\n\nThe drunk girl turned her body to look at her ship. \"What that? No. That's my taxi. They are the new New Orleans Taxis.\" hiccup hiccup \"Shit, now I have the hiccups.... I think Uber own them or something.\"\n\nJason corrected her, \"There is no way that can by an Uber, I already told you its a Space Ship! And you're not in New Orleans, you're in Phoenix.\" \n\nhiccup \"Well I just need to get to Bourbon Street.... Noah is waiting for me... which way is it?\"\n\nThe young couple were getting increasingly annoyed at the Birthday Bitch's answers. Hannah interjected, \"Its not anywhere. You are too far. Can we call Noah for you?\"\n\n\"OOOOOOHH MY GOD, call Noah? I called him like 5 bajillion times, but he won't answer me. Here. Tell him I'm waiting for him on Phoenix Street.\" The Drunk Girl pulled out a smart phone from her bra and threw it at the couple. But her intoxication made for poor athletic stimulant. It went wide and landed in the crater under the Orb. \n\nJason thought nothing of it, although slightly wary of the Orb, he was more than filled with curiosity at how the Drunk Girl got in this Orb. He strode over to the phone and crouched to comfortably reach it. When he picked it up, Noah was calling. \n\nJason slid his finger across the tiny screen and answered, \"Hello? Noah? I don't know how to explain this.\"\n\n\"No need to explain anything. That drunk girl is named Kelsey, and she stole my ship again.\"\n\n\"Your ship? This is yours? Are... you human?\"\n\n\"Haha, yes, I am human. If you go inside, you'll find pictures of myself and my father. We have spent our lives building this ship. Honestly, you can just put Kelsey on it, and send her back to me.\"\n\n\"Uhhh... OK.\"\n\n\"Cool, just go up the ramp, look inside, the coordinates of her last takeoff should be on the screen at waist level directly to you left. Right next to that is a large green button. Press the button to warm it up, and then the coordinates to send it back. Should be about a 5 minute warm up time. Oh, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this.\"\n\n\"Well... My wife and I are geeks when it comes to gadgets and new tech, do you mind if we look around?\" \n\n\"Of course not, like I said, you have 5 minutes warm up time.\"\n\nJason was pleased. As strange as the night had gone, nothing seemed harmful about any of these interactions. Jason walked back to his wife and told her about the phone call. Together, they went aboard the Orb and looked around, but Hannah couldn't shake a bad feeling in her stomach. When she looked inside the Orb, she saw things that impressed her, like how clean and pristine everything looked, how nothing about this ship looked alien or like a backyard project by over enthusiastic engineers. She told her husband, \"Lets get this girl aboard and get out of here.\" \n\nTogether, Jason and Hannah pressed the button. Both exited the Orb, and Hannah stood aside while Jason went to pick up Kelsey. He lifted her in his arms and took her into the ship. Hannah felt the bad feeling in her stomach become a pit when the ramp started retracting. The door slid shut and the rocket engine activated. Inside the Orb, Jason felt the metal beneath his feet rumbling, and heating up. When the doors closed he dropped Kesley and spun around, smashing the door with his fists. Then scrambling to his the screen and the buttons around the cockpit. \n\nThe sudden force pushing down on Jason let him know that the ship took off. And that he just left his wife behind. Barely keeping his balance, Jason moved into one of the two chairs int he small, circular space, while trying to keep a foot on Kelsey, who was passed out on the floor. Suddenly the screen activated again, and a humanish face greeted Jason. \"Hello, I'm sorry about the cloak and dagger. I didn't know how else I would get you on this ship.\"\n\n\"WHAT. THE. FUCK?!!! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING ME?\"\n\nPanting and nearly hyperventilating Jason's eyes darted around the cabin, and his attention kept being brought back to the face in front of him, which only gave expressions of remorse, and determination.\n\nThe Human-like face pursed his lips, and seemed to settle on it's next words. \"Well, I cant take you back... Haven't you wondered why my name is Noah?\"\n\n\nEdit1: thanks for catching that\n\nIf you like this, check out /r/TheCrazyTexansStories" ]	[ 1, 2, 23 ]	[ "1442982875", "1443021069", "1442954658" ]
Don't have to include the quote itself, just that demons (real or figurative/metaphorical) come at night.	[WP]...at night, when the demons come.	4	[ "\"Sorry, rookie, the overnight shifts aren't available for humans.\" \n\n\"C'mon, I got a kid on the way!\" protested the young man. \"I need the hours.\"\n\nThe foreman adjusted his cap and peered at the newcomer. He shrugged. \"Sorry, can't help you. At night, that's when the demons come. We don't mix the teams.\" \n\nHis shoulders slumped, the young man watched the foreman move on to the next workstation. This is bullshit, he fumed. Damned redskins, they don't even use money! \n\nThe young man knew that the demons were necessary for the war effort, of course. The Invaders were only two light years away, according to current projections, and moving at relativistic speeds. There was very little time to finish the work. So little time to prepare. \n\nThe young man hung up his hard hat and tool belt, and prepared to punch out. He hesitated. His pay was calculated on the basis of his clocked-in time. If I just don't clock out, he wondered, do I get paid? \n\nHe put his time card back in his chest pocket. Why not stay? Human workers were supposed to vacate the plant well before midnight, but surely some humans had to stay and supervise the demons. \n\nThe young man found an empty shipping crate in one of the work bays. He climbed inside and carefully lowered the lid. A few small holes allowed him to watch. \n\nHours passed and the plant slowly emptied. The young man watched the foreman usher the last of the human workers out the door. When they were gone, the foreman turned on the massive freight elevator and punched in a security code. The elevator sunk into the floor and disappeared. \n\nA minute passed. Two minutes. Then, faintly at first, the young man heard howls and screams bellowing up from the elevator shaft. There were deep-throated roars and blood-curdling shrieks, and he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. The stench of sulfur permeated the air. He wrinkled his nose. \n\nThe elevator reappeared in the shaft and came to a stop. The doors open, and the young man saw his first demons. \n\nThe demons came in many sizes and colors. First came the smaller demons: goblins and imps who bounded off the elevator. Their toolbelts jangled and bounced as they barrelled past the foreman. \n\n\"Hard hats, gentlemen,\" chided the foreman, \"Please! Your hard hats!\" \n\nA huge, lumbering demon slapped the foreman on the back, almost knocking the man over. \"Always with the hard hats, you are,\" said the demon.\n\n\"But, OSHA requirements-\" sputtered the foreman.\n\nThe demon laughed, a huge booming sound that reverberated through the work bay. \"OSHA? OUR HEADS ARE ALREADY STONE! HA HA HA!\" The demon pulled a massive wrench off the elevator and disappeared down a hallway. The foreman just shook his head. \n\nThe young man watched as the demons began to work. An archdemon had positioned itself near the massive, building-sized engine of one of the battlecruisers. Gesturing with its clawed hands, the demon uttered an incantation as dark energy flowed into the engine block. The young man knew that the dark magic was necessary to power the spacecraft, but he had never realized how intimately involved the demons were. \n\nNearby, a succubus was supervising two behemoths as they prepared to load a missile with a hellstone payload. The hellstone cubes were the darkest black the young man had ever seen, and their surface had been etched with indecipherable runes. The runes glowed a deep red as the behemoths struggled to lift the cubes into the missile. \n\nThe succubus twirled a long black whip as she watched. The behemoths talked as they worked. Their voices were harsh and gravelly, but the young man heard them well enough. \n\n\"Why-\" said one of the massive demons, \"are we helping the meat.\" \n\n\"Boss's orders.\" said the other. They dropped a hellstone cube into the missile with a loud thump. \"Destroy the otherworldlings.\" \n\n\"Yes,\" agreed the first demon. It reached down to grab another cube. \"But why?\" \n\nThe succubus snapped her whip. \"Because, you idiots,\" she said. \"Once the Invaders are finished with the meat, we're next. Boss says that the Invaders can get into the Red Kingdom, he's never seen anything like it before.\" \n\nThe two behemoths looked at her with a blank look on their thick faces. \n\n\"Gah, you thick fucks,\" the succubus spat. \"We help the humans or we lose Hell. Forever.\" \n\nThe behemoths laughed and continued their work. \n\nOne of the behemoths moved closer to the crate where the young man hid. As the demon bent down to grab another cube, its nostrils flared. \n\n\"Meat,\" it said. The other two demons looked over. \"I smell meat.\" \n\nThe young man froze in fear. The other demons sniffed the air. Suddenly, the crate's lid flew off and a massive hand pulled the man into the air. \n\n\"Yum,\" said the behemoth, licking its lips as it inspected the young man. \n\n\"Save me his cock and fingers, please,\" said the succubus. \n\n***** \nThe foreman sat in an observation booth overlooking the work bay. He had pulled out several report forms when he realized that the rookie had never clocked out. The foreman had seen other workers pull the same trick before. It usually ended poorly. He looked down at the forms on his desk. One was titled \"Workers' Compensation Claim Form - Injury.\" The other form simply read \"Accidental Death Report.\" The foreman's pen hovered over one form, then the other. He watched as the behemoth pulled the rookie out of a crate. \n\nThe foreman waited for the proceedings to work themselves out below. After a moment, he sighed and began to fill out one of the forms. He hated paperwork. \n\n\n\n", "Have no fear, you little one \n\tat night, when the demons come \nWhen there's no light, and no more sun \n\tat night, when the demons come \nThey'll fly and fight and never run \n\tat night, when the demons come \nWith heart and mind and soul as one \n\tat night, when the demons come \n-Common child's rhyme, author unknown, first recorded 104 YAA \n \n~~~ Prologue ~~~\n \nIt is the year 517, in the current reckoning of Years After the Angelium. Scholarship, what little of it can be devoted to such things, place the date around mid-Autumn, 2532 AD, by the old reckoning. \n \nFor generations, humanity had yearned to know whether they were alone in the universe, looking to the stars for answers. If they had known the price of their curiosity, perhaps they never would have asked. \n \nOn December 23, 2015, a chill spread across the world, and humanity froze in place. The Angelium. Faceless beings with technology far superior to our own. They attacked without warning, without remorse. They refused all forms of communication and every offer of peace. Our opposition, it seemed, was hopeless. \n \nAs governments fragmented and people sought safety, the remnants of the great world empires formed new borders, new alliances. Through it all, humanity refused to give up in defeat. \n \nThe Paclantic Empire comprised most of what was left of the United States, Canada, Australia, Europe, and West Russia. \n \nThe Asian Confederation was made up of the remnants of China, Japan, Korea, East Russia, and India. \n \nThe Asian Confederation poured its resources and its greatest minds into NERVA, and created towering humanoid monoliths. These dire robots fought the Angelium to a stalemate, establishing the world's first safe zone, 'Eden'. \n \nThe Paclantic Empire, was hard at work on its own Valhalla Project. Soon, Valhalla scientists and engineers had made their own discovery. By chance, a researcher realized that certain children possessed a genetic mutation which he dubbed 'Delta-Mu'. \n \nThrough the use of nanomachines, these children could make use of Angelium Technology. Candidates who showed promising response to the Delta-Mu Nanomachine therapy were referred to by the acronymn DMN, or 'Demon'. By day, they play and laugh and love in what is left of the world they call home. At night, they streak the skies, fighting tirelessly to bring peace to the Empire and safety to its people. \n \nThis is their story... ", "Yorick peered out through the thin slits of the wall, far off in the darkness down the wide abandoned street, he could see stirring shadows.\n\nAs the last of the New 'ork's citizens huddled into the keep, Yorrick and the rest of the guard shut the gates closed.\n\nWith the gates closed, piercing and tortured howls began to rumble through the air, the horde was upon them.\n\nDark foul beasts from a time before the end of civilization, created from the power of radiation and nuclear fire.\n\nGripping their spears and clubs of rebar and sheet metal, Yorrick and the rest of the guard formed a crude shield wall, awaiting the oncoming horde of foul beasts.\n\nThe newer and younger warriors trembled at the sight of these demons, who were once human, but their minds and bodies were twisted and distorted into unnatural shapes and angles. They charged out at the gate, howling and screeching all the way. Pale ghastly figures, sprinting on all fours, jaws gaping with razor teeth and clawed hands.\n\n" ]	[ 2, 2, 3 ]	[ "1443045669", "1443055305", "1443032885" ]
	[WP] On every full moon, the cursed wolf becomes a werehuman and terrorizes the wolf community.	45	[ "OOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWwww!, the newly formed human screamed. Apparently the transformation process is a bit painful. The were-human looked around, doing his best to make sense of his surroundings and his existence. He finally came to the conclusion that he exists because he thinks. Or maybe he thinks because he exists. It doesn't matter. What does matter is the colony of wolves circled around him. \n\n\"Damn,\" he exclaims. \"I was starting to like this new body.\" \n\nHe knew he was something new, but could not recall what he was before. Then, he heard a voice just before the wolves were going to attack. \n\n\"Jerry, what the hell happened to you?\"\n\n\"I'm surrounded by wolves, help me!\"\n\n\"Of course you are asshole, we are your pack. How could you not remember?\"\n\n\"I guess I'm a little dazed from the whole process. What do you guys do anyway?\"\n\n\"Kill elk and eat elk. Sometimes bison too.\"\n\n\"I will help you with that, I have these hands for making tools.\"\n\nThe first idea was to sharpen a stick. Jerry proceeded to find a suitable branch and bring it to the nearest outcropping of rocks. He threw cobbles at the ground until they shattered. These sharp bits had just the edge to form a handy spear. The pack went out to the local elk hangout to score dinner. Jerry managed to bag a moderate sized buck, scaring away all the the other elk. It was a failure. One deer is only enough to feed Jerry and provide the tiniest snack for the rest of the pack. Jerry had it covered though.\n\n\"Although the spear didn't work as planned, I believe that surrounding the deer is our only option.\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's what we always do, you big hairless dummy.\"\n\n\"That is not what i meant. we should build a barricade around the meadow.\"\n\nThey began collecting sticks until the full moon passed. Jerry was a wolf again. Everyone rejoiced. They continued to collect sticks for the next month, alongside their regular schedule of conventional elk hunting. \n\nThe next full moon arrived, and they had amassed piles of sticks around the meadow. The human side of Jerry knew what to do. He then architected and constructed a vast wall. This surrounded the entire meadow except for an opening for the elk to roam on their usual meadow-going route. Jerry cleverly closed the opening by sliding the last wall into place. The wolves began to chase and feast like it was going out of style, which it was. \n\nJerry saw the devastating effects the wolves performed on a trapped herd. He told the pack that the free-for-all chase is no longer allowed, because the whole herd could be wiped out within months. His new plan is a breeding clinic.\n\n\"We must save the tastiest looking elk to produce more elk in a controlled manner.\"\n\nIt took another full moon before the pack had a successful farm in operation. The farm ran in this way for many moons, however, it proved to be too successful at making elk. The wolves became lazy and bored now that their time was no longer spent on survival alone. \n\nHairless Jerry came out once a month to 'improve' on the situation. He provided amenities in the form of shelter and wolftertainment, which is his term for toys to keep the wolves busy. \n\nAfter many more moons, the shanty wolf town had become almost entirely automated. The wolves now spent most of their time in small rooms using the math Hairless Jerry had taught them. These were used to solve problems, which No-Hair-Jerr had set up to further optimize the town. \n\nA couple more full moons later, and the city was providing prepared slabs of elk meat at regular intervals to keep the wolves nourished. The wolves continued crunching numbers, but they felt no more purpose. \n\nNo-Hair-Jerr began using his one day per month (two, sometimes) devising ways to exploit the autonomous system for his own gain. He even used the wolves to crunch the numbers for his hedonistic schemes. None of the wolves knew this at first, not even Wolf Jerry. However, as moon cycles went on, the wolves began to realize Jerry is the alpha. This was due to his much larger living quarters, and endless portions of elk. The smart wolves caught on, and began to get on Jerry's good side for the extra portion of steak every now and again. \n\nIt wasn't long before Jerry became complacent, and gave everyone extra food. They even had access to advanced forms of Wolftertainment. However, Full Moon Jerry made the decision to continue to exploit the number crunching to surmount trivial gains for himself. He shared some of the bounty with the rest of the wolves, but the quality of life was now far worse than when they were just hunting elk and eating elk. The longed to go back to that way of life, but knew deep down that they could never manage it now that they are living the lazy lifestyle. The pack was free from the burden of survival, but were terrorized by the boredom and health problems that the werehuman's automated sedentary lifestyle had created.\n", "A metal bullet ricocheted off tree trunks and buried itself into the leaf-covered dirt. Blue-eyes darted back into the woods, an angry man howling behind him. From the back porch of his big box nest, the man raised his silver weapon in the air. \n\nBlue-eyes sniffed his fur, inspecting for wounds. Lucky this time. \n\nNo, he was not lucky. He snarled at the thought. This was all once wolf land. His land. Now he cannot even visit the stream without man threatening him.\n\nMan. They came to the forest in their rumbling cages and built their big box nests. Their sharp wires and blinding lights and screaming offspring. They even scared away wolf prey. Trying to starve them out, no doubt. Monsters.\n\nWith one last look behind him, Blue-eyes scampered further into the forest. He must return to Half-fang and the rest of his pack to alert them of another man sighting. Wind blowing against his whiskers, Blue eyes sprinted between the trees. He stopped only once to drink from a puddle in the mud, thinking of the clear, flowing water he once had. His tongue made ripples in the puddle, causing the moonlight to ripple like a-\n\nThe moon. Not again. \n\nBlue-eyes let out a whimper. His stomach lurched as he felt his paws tingle. His claws receded, replaced by long floppy fingers-- perfect for grasping man-weapons. His snout shoved against his brain and hair withered away, replaced by pale, moon-colored flesh. \n\nIn his puddle, Blue-eyes gazed at his ugly face in horror. No, he wouldn't be able to return to his pack tonight. He would spend the night alone-- alone with the monster staring back at him.", "No! don't go over there!\n\nTheres something wrong in that part of the woods,everyone knows.\n\nWhen the nights are brightest bad things happen.\n\nBut you heard a howling? ... Ah... it was a strange howling wasn't it?\n\nLet me tell you , whatever made that howl was no wolf.\n\nNo.\n\nIt was The Beast.\n\nThe Beast?\n\nA furless horror,it has no nose but a instead a flat face that just..ends.\n\nIt has no fangs,and moves slowly yes,but it has unnatural powers.\n\nIt can command the ground to swallow you!\n\nIt can make sharp rocks fly like birds to bite you!\n\nIt can call the Sun down to earth in the depths of night!\n\nIf it finds you it will tear the skin from your body and place it upon itself,to cover it's hideous toad like skin.\n\nStay away from there.\n\nWhat do you mean you already know?\n\nI should have taken my own advice?\n\nWait..you smell strange..\n\n\n\nStay awa-YELP" ]	[ 2, 8, 13 ]	[ "1443158058", "1443137074", "1443133903" ]
	[WP] Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay.	14	[ "\"Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay. That's what I have to say to you, Connor.\n\n\"I was supposed to be this big shot, like my dad, earning wealth and riches, being incredibly smart, powerful and amazing. I was supposed to marry a beautiful woman,\" \"A woman? But what abo-\" \"Don't interrupt. Anyways, I was supposed to marry a beautiful woman and have kids with her. Be the pinnacle of masculinity. And for a long time, it was what I wanted. It was what I dreamed to be.\n\n\"A classy businessman. And for a bit, I thought your other dad was in the way of that. I thought that marrying him would be the worst mistake of my life. But it really wasn't. \n\n\"He pulled me in. With smooth words and an incredibly hot body.\" \"Daddyyyy!\" \"Shush, and I fell in love with him. He helped me come to terms with who I was. And lemme tell ya, having you was the best thing that ever happened.\n\n\"And really, the life that I have now is ten times better than if I'd gone with my dad. I love him. I love being a stay-at-home dad. I love it. An' I love you too.\" \"I love ya daddy.\" My son, Connor, crawls into my lap, kisses my cheek. I smile. Life is good.", "Every so often, but only for awhile,\nthe golden sun stretches outwards for a mile. \nA child without care, without hope and devotion,\nstretches his mind and examines the motion. \nA motion of stupendous clowns and tigers,\nof seven foot angels and puppets with wires. \nA sprinkle of hope and a dash of soft feathers, \na buttoned down shirt and a suitcase with leather. \n\nA far-fetched dream suspended in time, \nallows the child to perform just one last rhyme. \n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n", "Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay.\n\nThe endless clicking of the keyboards began to emanate in Alan's consciousness. They all seemed to be in unison- a tribal song. With each beat, the echo seemed to get stronger. It was choking him. \n\nAlan abruptly stood up, glancing uneasily at the manager. But he was asleep, slouched on his desk chair. Alan quickly shuffled down the narrow corridor. The fluorescent light beat down on his brow, and with each step the bustle of the office slowly drown in silence. \n\nAlan quickly glanced at his watch- 6:35. Sunset began a minute ago- he was late. In a flurry, he began sprinting. It seemed that he couldn't go a single day without at least glancing at the sunset. He knew the times like clockwork. The blood red sky always seemed to crash into the monotony of blue-- to ruin the plainness of it. It was beautiful. \n\nAlan slowly came to a stop, resting his hand on the outline of the windowsill. A smile slowly crept upon his face. His eyes grew wide, breath settled. Bliss. \n\n\"Would be better flying\", he chuckled. \n\nAlan glanced once again at his pilots watch. The initials 'W.F' scratched on the bezel- his fathers. It was supposed to be a gift, for when Alan got his wings. But after the accident- and the partial blindness- that wouldn't happen. Flying was \"out of the question\".\n\nBut he could still watch the sky. It was late. Alan dragged himself from the window. A new report was due next week, and he was already behind. But he'd be back tomorrow. \n\n\"Sometimes, dreams don't come true, and that's okay\", he muttered as he waddled back, the sounds of the office effacing him.\n", "Fingers dance upon his thighs as his shoulders draw upward and inwards, eyes shut and nose scrunched as he holds his breath. Ron hopes that for even a moment he might become invisible. Somehow the teacher would overlook him and his turn would be passed. She addresses the children, standing side by side in single file, with a clear and slow tone. Her words are crucial. Rarely, a student speaks up to ask for elaboration or repetition, prolonging Ron's pain. Twenty-two. There were twenty-two people before him. Nineteen, Thirteen, Seven, Five, Four. He couldn't hold his breath any longer and his eyes had begun to ache from how tightly they were closed.\n\nRon breathed deeply and opened his eyes to find that he was among the few that remained. It was as he had dreamt. The audience was growing as his nerves continued to fray. A mixture of ineptitude and stage-fright would be his undoing. Three. Ron stared at his feet and wiggled his toes just to make sure that he still could. Sweat began to percolate on his arms and forehead as only two people stood between him and utter failure. He would be the laughing-stock of the class. Surely he would forget the question, deliver an unrelated answer, or be unable to speak at all. A low squeak escaped his parting lips as his attentions turned towards his voice. How long had it been since he last spoke? He couldn't remember. There was one person left. Ron felt hot, the room seemed to be shrinking, and he couldn't maintain his focus.\n\n“Ron!” the teacher called out as he was startled from his daze.\n\n“Y-yes, ma'am!” he answered back as a few chuckles emerged from his classmates.\n\n“Do you need me to repeat your word?” she asked.\n\n“I-yes, please,” he replied hesitantly.\n\n“Your word is incandescent,” she repeated as Ron finally listened. “Like an incandescent bulb. Incandescent.”\n\nClosing his slackened mouth, Ron took a moment to think about the word. He was certain that they had covered it at some point earlier in the year. His mind scoured loose memories of notes that he had taken, passages that he had read aloud, and lectures that had been given to him. Somewhere in this heap of unused knowledge, he found something that resembled the answer that he was searching for. Air flooded his nostrils as he took another deep breath and crammed his hands in his pockets.\n\n“I-n-c-a-n” Ron began, thinking of the civilization that had went by the same name. He repeated this word to himself quietly as he broke the remainder of the word down further. It was the end that troubled him. There was a 't' to close things off, but that 's' sound was what bothered him. Again he mulled over the word as his classmates began to voice their chagrin. The teacher prompted him to continue lest he be disqualified. “d-e-s—c—e-n-t?”\n\n“Correct!” his instructor responded with a beaming smile as he received scattered applause. “Good job, Ron.”\n\n-267", "I woke up sweating, and I wasn't sure why. \nImmediately I stood up, my thoughts washing by. \nI think, I'm almost certain, I was having a nightmare. \nLuckily all the monsters had vanished mid-air. \n \nSo don't worry about that, as if you're going to die, \nJust make yourself a warm brew.. \nIt's okay, and do you know why? \nBecause sometimes dreams don't come true. " ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 6 ]	[ "1443147694", "1443157479", "1443152760", "1443149003", "1443148695" ]
	[WP] You are part of an ancient order that ensures humanity's progression. After your training, you are sent to a remote cottage where you are told to await a letter. Forty-seven years later, that letter arrives with your new task.	32	[ "Finally. It arrived. After all this waiting. All these years. They told me it would take time. 'Nothing this important can happen over night', they said. 'When it's time, you alone will be poised to act. To take the human race into a new age.'\n\nI breath deep, and open the letter.\n'Sorry, but you're kind of an idiot, and everyone hates that thing you do. We decided the best, most humane thing to was isolate you and keep you out of the gene pool. \n\nBest wishes,\n\nUtopia", "A cozy accommodation with a beautiful view, furnished with traditional cottage equipment and enough stores to last a lifetime.\n\n\nDuring training, that would have meant that the Elders had rented out a cheap student studio with the view of a parking lot with used IKEA furniture and a refrigerator from the 70s, leaking into my soul at every breathe.\n\n\nSo, when I first arrived at the cottage, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the cottage, while small, was more cozy than cramped, the scenery around peaceful and tranquil and the \"stores,\" rather satisfying. What they neglected was to provide adequate shaving equipment, such that bears might breed with me at first glance.\n\n\nThe Elders had instructed me to wait for my time to come, when the world needed me most, I could rejoin them, filled with the desire to help, not harm humanity.\n\n\nI waited, and with each sunrise and sunset, my mind became empty. I wasn't deluded that my time would be an arbitrary and sudden calling, but as the moons changed in cycle, filling up the sky with a bright glow, my empty mind began to fill with doubts.\n\n\nNot doubts to my faith or to my elders, but doubt to whether after such a time I could rejoin society with relevance. My training had prepared me for a tumultuous world of civil unrest, polarized politics, economic struggle, emotionless young and the changing tide of technology that swept the life of humanity away.\n\n\nI was confused, alone, but mostly afraid.\n\n---\nslip.\n\n\nIt was an unusually noise, one that I had only heard when the local deputy had slipped me a notice to stop bathing in the rivers. I walked over to the door and checked what warning I would be given this time around. \n\n\nThe envelope was a light beige, great craftsmanship, hand made, folded and glued. The letter inside bore no symbol or origin, but only had a letter filled with words. No signature either.\n\n\nThe message was short, but the instructions were odd, also written in a new modern fashion.\n\n\nYo, bruv it time yo. Yoz be needn sum shit so git it from Daggz in Bath. Go hit em hard, w8 lk yo traning did don ya. then git bak to teh plac and kik sum ass.\n\n\nI had the strange feeling that the world had changed a lot without me.", " It's been a long time since I've left the Order, too long. I have a family now, A wife and two great kids. What did they expect? They left me in a cottage with people, no amount of training could prepare me for the outside world. After 5 years I had stopped checking daily, then after 10, just once a month. They made me leave the Village at the age of 18, I'm 65 years old and the letter just showed up.\n\n I can't describe the emotion that I had felt whenever the letter showed up. It as if Death himself was standing at the door. An old, dreaded friend come back to visit. If you were to compare it to another letter you would see right away the age difference. The paper that the envelope was made out of was a pale yellow, and cracked around the edges. As I turned it over I saw the seal on the letter. A red wax amphitheatre the symbol for humanity, a play with no end in sight being directed by the few of us.\n\n As I opened the letter it felt like time slowed down and the temperature dropped. The paper within was very old, even older than the envelope. It was stiff and smudged, at one point in time it looked like it may have been burned as one of the corners was singed. The ink was not really ink, I believe that it was coal. I whispered the words aloud. They felt odd in my mouth, almost like I was speaking some foreign language older than all of us. As I read it I began to understand it more and more. I must have stood there for 30 minutes just reading it until I understood my task.\n\n My new task seemed impossible. It said that I would need to travel the world. Looking for one person. In a world of 7 billion I need to find the one that could save humanity from an upcoming enemy, the darkness. \"קדוש אחד\" The name that was used in the letter translates directly to holy one. The letter said that I would know who the person was when I saw them, as if I had some sort of mystical ability. I don't know how I will be able to travel the world, I'm 65 with a hip replaced. I guess the easiest thing to do would be just leave with no more contact with my family. They would assume that I'm dead that would be best. I hope the elders know what they're doing, because the task ahead looks pretty grim." ]	[ 1, 5, 11 ]	[ "1443280793", "1443266078", "1443244572" ]
Yes this is dark, go nuts with it.	[WP] You have a super recessive disorder that makes you immortal. Never in all your time (~14,000 yrs) have you encountered anyone else like yourself. You begin a series of breeding of experiments....	1,531	[ "Long term investment strategies have always meant that lives were easy to purchase, and my technique, with the very recent acquisition of mankind's confidence in \"the market\" over \"nature\" is almost too easy now. Can you believe that they now choose reproductive partners based largely on the \"super model figure\"? It is barely a reproductively tenable form with the medical science program I cull such huge profits from both monetarily and in the breeding program. The mechanization of production and birth control incentivization programs are showing great results as well, with offspring statistically dumber each generation through exclusion of the clear-minded from the genetic pool. By god, I will identify the others like me, even if I have to drive this entire race to extinction!", "Of all the one-off dates he had went on expecting nothing in return throughout the past month with differing women, Reggie really liked Fulvia. She was pretty, had a unique style, and incredibly wise. Beyond her years. She seemed to have so much life experiences. She knew how to get stains out of the carpet, what to do if you're ever arrested, how to stop your ears from popping while in the elevated air, even how to fill out certain legal papers, like the kind pertaining to adoptions, marriages, annulments, lawsuits, custody, even divorces. Maybe she'd worked as a paralegal in the past...maybe that would explain it...\n\nFulvia, in fact, was the first date he had asked out on a second date, to which she happily agreed. So they sat in the booths of the local favorite cafe of theirs, sipping their hot beverages. Fulvia read the newspaper, folded to fit into her hand. \"Hm,\" she smirked. \"The mayor wants to fund a new bridge for the city, but it lacks the proper funds and resources to do so.\" She took a bite of her bagel. \"Funny how things never change.\"\n\nA man in his fifties in a dark, woolen coat entered. \"Fulvia?\" he asked.\n\nFulvia squinted. \"Alan?\" Then her eyes widened in realization. \"Oh my God, it's my Alan! How are you, boy?\" \n\n\"Not bad,\" he said. \"The wife and I are having some work done on our yard so the kids can play in it, and that's eating a lot of time, but other than that, can't complain.\" They continued to chat for a few more moments, and Reggie repeatedly dunked his teabag in his cup, wondrously.\n\n\"Well, it was great catching up,\" Fulvia concluded.\n\n\"Yeah, no problem,\" Alan replied, \"And feel free to drop by any time.\"\n\n\"I will,\" she said with a laugh. Then she positioned herself back into her seat in the booth.\n\nReggie paused for a moment, and then cleared his throat. \"Who..who was that?\" he asked.\n\n\"My son,\" she replied, without hesitation. Her son? She seemed about his own age, twenty. She couldn't have a son in his fifties. Maybe she was actually about to tell him about a son she might have who was a baby or tot. Or maybe she was just kidding..who knows...\n\n\"So, uh...you're majoring in Theology?\" he said, changing the subject. \n\nShe sipped her tea and nodded. \"Yes, I've majored in so many things I had little things left to major. Next time around, I'm thinking I'll study Business Marketing.\"\n\nReggie was confused. \"So, you change your major a lot?\"\n\n\"Well, no, I just have multiple Bachelor's degrees.\"\n\n\"Why don't your ever go into grad school?\"\n\n\"I have,\" she said. \"Fifteen Master's and six PhDs.\"\n\n\"Wow, you must have been a bright student. Did you graduate early?\"\n\n\"Nope,\" she said. Fulvia must have been older than Reggie thought. He could work with that.\n\n\"Awwww,\" she wined at something in the newspaper.\n\n\"What?\" he asked.\n\n\"My daughter passed away,\" she said, as she extended a black-polished fingernail towards a picture of an elderly woman. Oh boy, this subject was about to come up again.\n\n\"Uh, you have all these degrees and children...\" he asked, then gently added, \"How?\"\n\nShe sighed, and made a pause. \"Do you really want to know?\" she asked.\n\nHe nodded. \"You're not going to believe me. Do you still want to know?\" He nodded again. \"Okay, ready?\" She then looked around the room, and cupped her hand around his ear and whispered. \"I'm fourteen thousand years old,\" she said. Reggie's eyes widened. \"I told you that you wouldn't believe me.\" She sighed. \"I can't even count the number of children I have. I've outlived most of them. Can't even count the number spouses and courtiers who have sired them...many of my relationships with them ended in death, some divorce, some annulment, some abandonment, some on amicable breakups...\"\n\n\"Fulvia...\" Reggie said.\n\n\"I know,\" she said, as a tear fell to her face. \"You don't want to see me anymore...\"\n\n\"No,\" he smiled in effort to comfort her. \"I want you to know it's okay.\" He squeezed her hand gently, and she smiled. They gazed at each other and paused. \"Also, are you free tomorrow at three? There's a movie I want to see, if you'd like to come.\"\n\nShe let out a few tears and chuckled. \"I'd love to.\"\n\n(I'll probably continue this in my own thread eventually.)", "Society can place whatever labels they deem appropriate, but love is love. Where do I begin?\n\nI've stopped counting, but I am immortal. Older than 3000 years old, younger than who cares. I'm really fuckin old and I'm tired of the banality of life. What curse has been given to me that I should watch countless friends and lovers wither with time. \n\nThey say God has a plan, but don't plans have an execution date? Maybe this will be it.\n\nAbout 30 years ago I met Daughtry. And 25 years before her I met Mary. I thought this was just another love and loss tale, which it is, but something peculiar has happened. Mary died 10 years ago..cancer. We were never in love, but she was the most beautiful girl ive ever met. Daughtry looks just like her..and she hasn't aged a day since 18. Mary was my lover. Daughtry, my child. How similar her beauty is to her mother, why is it so wrong to hold desire? After a life while of loneliness, a man starts to feel hollow. Daughtry fills me up with life...another curse? Maybe? But it's a blessing as well. Daughtry feels the same way.\n\nAnother thing...the other day, I found a grey hair on my head. Does stress effect me? Am I aging? I don't know, but I'm just happy things are changing. I will report back.", "Memories of the rusted chains in my hands as I gently guide the swing forward erupt to the forefront of my mind. The realization of the decision and act I must undertake had been weighing heavily on my shoulders. I knew this day would come. Ages of wisdom had not prepared me for the mental horrors that had begun to envelope me. The bittersweet moment of her birth, I had accomplished an ever fleeting task. One I knew would just then begin to truly test my resolve for creating what I envisioned as a better world. Reminiscent to talons gouging into the back of a rodent, the questions of morality had long been an itch I had no hope in satisfying. I had watched her blossom into a talking, thinking, loving person. Her mothers grin fit snugly on her face. Her spunk, another trait she adopted from her mother, and one that I admired unwillingly. So many years and only one managed to survive. Ultimately, she will realize as I did long ago that our lives aren't destined to be filled with happiness. Duty and reprise have been anxious to fill the void. I felt cursed with the ability to change. Thus I cannot consider my actions vile, and self-loathing would serve no purpose then to occupy time, something essentially worthless to me. The data further concluded the concerns, and in all honesty, the truth, I had been quite confident in for some time. The chances of further reproduction were vastly increased, I knew this and yet it was no easier to shut the door behind me,\"Hello, sweetheart...\" I was destroyed that day, but civilization would usher in anew. The bounds of mortality shattered I had attained infinite martyrdom, but the horrors I had to commit. The agony facing my soul, I chose this because I had no other choice.\n\n", "April 9th, 2015 \n\nExhausted from the long day at the city hall, Sam exited his car and headed for his mansion built in an isolated area far from the city. Sam has lived his life in secret, always playing the role of the backdoor that feeds information to the governement. Sam was a shady figure with many contacts, but few friends. He was a tall man, standing at 6'4 in a skinny well preserved body. Few people knew that Sam had a secret.\nThe slender fellow walked into his home which was extremely quiet. It was so quiet that you could hear every footstep echo thoughout the entire structure of the building. Sam hung his long coat on the rack and took off his shoes, replacing them with fancy slippers. Doing what you wouldn't expect, Sam headed downstairs into the basement. He turned on the lights and took off his clothes leaving nothing on but a robe and his slippers. As he walked further down the deep stairway you could hear the silence disappear, and the voices, female voice, slowly enter the atmosphere. \nSam walked up to the cages, where 12 women were hanging by their wrists handcuffed by steel. There were 3 women whose ankles were chained to heavy metal balls, who he found the most loyal to him. They were assigned the role of feeding the rest of his prisoners. Sam has found a cookie stashed away behind a locked drawer and was teasing one of the chained women. The poor souls were starving, devastated, they were screaming from the pain. Then Sam took a whip off the wall and unchained one of the women. He told her \"show me what you have learned when I was gone\". Then he took off his robe and expected for the woman to start pleasuring him. She had no choice. \nSam was a dark figure who could get anything he wanted, with all his years of experience. Sam was always the one in power, and as soon as he felt corruption in the throne he would go off the grid awaiting a perfect time to return into a high position. The women with the ankle chains tried to back away with fear in their eyes. The other women awaiting their turn. They have came to learn that Sam is their master and he will care for them as long as they obey. They were waiting to be released so they could fulfill that desire that would build inside of them. \nAll these years Sam would never fully finish with a woman, he would never take the risk of pregnancy. Sam, like most powerful figures, was afraid he would get overthrone by his kin. He wouldnt want for his child to know that his father is an abusive dungeon-keeper and that he will never see his mother again. But now Sam was ready to test himself, he wanted to have this kin. If the experiment fails, he will dispose of the child leaving no trail or lock them up in the dungeon with their mother. Now was the time Sam would select the childbearer. \nThe man would lean over his favourite. A younger one, brunette with an ankle chain. He kneeled down and whispered in her ear \"I have chosen you, my dear.\" The woman was scared, she didn't have a clue as to what was going on. She was unchained and brought upstairs where she would be treated like a human. Seeing the other side of Sam, she fell in love with him. Seeing this, Sam thought it would be unaccepteable to have a family with immortality, so later that night he killed her. \nThis way he kept trying out all the women in the dungeon until he would find one that wouldn't fall for him. Sadly, all of them did. And so all of them were murdered by this cruel man. A cruel man that has lived so much, that he could get away with anything. ", "I came down Mount Sanai after 8000 years, the oldest man alive at about 9100 years old. I had lost track long ago, but keeping track of decades had given me an estimate. \n\nSorry, I get side tracked in my thoughts, but this is the first time I have ever written this down. I've never told anyone; I don't think I'd be able to be able to say the words to anyone- I'm an immortal who has lived 13, 000 years, and I have been alone in my immortality for all of it. And that's why I'm writing this for you, son. Because im not alone anymore, and neither are you. And because we can be immortals, equals, together, forever. I know that's a lot of commas, and thats why I have to write it down. It sounds insane. But you have to know the whole story, why and how I became the person I am today. And we will have many such talks. But for now it is your time to be a child, splashing beside me in the pool as I write this. Anyway, let me return to my story.\n\nAt this time, my hope in humanity had been restored after I saw the technolies of an army in about 1000BC. I visited many humans and learned what I could, preaching tolerance and innovation. Humanity had evolved in the last 8000 years. From farmers and mystics to noblemen and blacksmiths. I travelled for dozens of years, following word of wonders and great minds. I was able to speak a gutteral form of my old language surprisingly at first, but soon the language of distance lands was too advanced for me. Regardless, none of the minds or wonders I came across were of use, although they were inspiring. None were of use. But when I came across Rome in Italy, I could feel something different. Their civilization was so... civilized. And they had the infastructure and minds to do great things. In my decades of socializing and advancing societies technology, the technology of what became would become the armies of Rome. I was greeted by a friendly guard whose language I didn't speak outside the first town I went to. His laughter and smile were more charming than any I'd ever seen as he joked with a guard and walked me towards the keep past the gates. I was greeted by a lord in a thick fur coat with layers of bright clothing. He spoke to me and laughed at me awe at my surroundings. The grandeur! Windows, art, carpets, stone. Even the guards were dressed from head to toe in armour. \n\nThe lord dismissed me and sent a young female to teach me the language. I picked it up fast, it was the 8th language I had learned to that point, and the 7th that was taught to me by a woman as my wives had taught me their mother tongues. And as in the past, bonding over language helped us to fall in love and we began seeing each other. It was only when the king burst in the room that I realized the young female was actually his daughter famous for her beauty, Medusa. I was a curiousty and nothing more, and her hand was worth a mighty price. She would go on to cause a lot of trouble for other people, but I was happy to go to the capital when the Lord said my intelligence would be appreciated there. I don't know how he knew that; he had only taught me once. His daughter must have been spying on me, and I talked of my past as a prophet. I am sure that his daughters word was the only thing that kept me alive. \n\nIt was at this time when I heard rumours of a race born of religion, known as the Jews, in the middle east, who's God had deserted them. Damn it. My effects on time had profound implications, and my ancestors were now cursed to live in the random town I had stumbled on all those years ago. Rome was a nice dream, but I owed it to a part of myself to fix what I had created.\n\n8 millenia later, it seemed like yesterday. Like no time had passed since I had my first 4 kids there with my wife. So I went back. \n\nThe people I came to were in terrible shape. The only thing that kept them alive were the stories I had left them. But I was amazed by their faith. And so I rewarded them. I spoiled them with my love, and except for one little incident where I bailed for 40 years and left them in a desert. I was always just out of site, using 9 millenia or so worth of slight of hand and my ability to never die. I would go into this more, but there is already a book out heavily influenced by me (though largely fake) called the old testament bible which goes into some details. I went by many names as leader of the isrealites, but for 1000 years I was able to use my position to further my goal of giving humans the means to achieve immortality. It was an age of great trade and discovery. Which leads us to the next phase of my story. The discovery that led to my greatest joy before you came into my life- but also the greatest heartbreak.The first son I brought into this world who was immortal- Jesus. ", "I mostly read these days. Long ago, things were slow but I didn't have to worry about dying. Walk across France? Sure, it might have taken a year to meander, but no one was checking papers along the way to ensure that I was a legitimate traveler. Work an odd job for a decade, travel somewhere new, repeat. \n\nIt's the benefit of being mostly immortal. I don't age, but people notice after a while. I don't get sick. But I could still die in a car or plane crash, and hiking 10 miles to work isn't socially acceptable when cars are so plentiful. For these short lives it makes sense, they can afford the slim chance of dying to get home in time for dinner. By my reckoning I've been here about 14,000 years; something that would kill me once every thousand years is something I need to take seriously. \n\nAnd that's how I ended up here. Legally, I'm my own great grandson, farming the same piece of land I did a century ago. Out here there isn't quite as much paperwork, and the long distances help people forget me. Just have to take a funeral every thirty or forty years, and people buy in to it. Their memories are short.\n\nThree thousand years ago, I'd knock up a few women and stick around the same village, or go back and forth between a few, for centuries, hoping, waiting for someone else like me to be born, and then give up when it was clear the genetics didn't work out. But now, it's the digital era. Hike out to a new city once a decade, create a few children, and I can track it all on line while reading the morning paper and drinking my coffee. And thanking these short lived beings for taking risks to make my life more comfortable.", "Breaking news: The truth behind the Brookmire Banshee has been revealed. Today, an armed response unit entered the abandoned Brookmire Hospital to find a man seemingly in his thirties, clutching - and still writing - the following letter:\n\n12th of July, 3062\n\nOver a thousand years I've tried. For more than a millenium I've kidnapped people, forced them to mate with each other, tortured them to within an inch of my life and had them suffer all sorts of trauma and horrors in the hopes of somehow replicating my condition. But to no avail. Everything I try, every variable perfect and almost every base covered, years and years and years of pouring over data and hypotheses, testing my own blood and that of others, my DNA, wasting my life away in front of cliopboards and computer screens. It's a wonder they haven't crumbled away into dust like the many, many lives I've seen going by... Oh, the truths I've seen in my long life. I've seen men tear each other apart over uncertainty, I could answer the questions that mankind has been searching for answers for in the bowels opf history to no avail... and I've kept it all quiet. For fear of what exactly? For fear of being subjected to the very same sort of vile experiments that I've been performing for but a fifteenth of my damned existence? The irony runs so deep. But still there remains one question that not even I may be able to answer. Not even the most advanmced of scientific equipment can solve the mystery behind my condition, or provide me with the means to finally embrace the sweet, sweet black folds of death. I've stabbed myself, hung myself, shot myself, thrown myself from bridges and what has it brought me? Even more pain. Exactly the opposite of what I so desire... Is that why I started these profane studies? Who knows why, but one thing is for sure. If it's taken me one thousand and twenty six years and still no answer has presented itself, then what can I do? What can anyone do? what can Death himself do to this worn-out body being forced along the tracks of life by the cruel dominant mistress that is fate?! I can't... I can't! I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't...\n\nThe letter repeats this several hundred times. The man is believed to have been writing his letter for the past six months. Rumours that the same man appears in historical photographs and paintings ranging from ancient Greek sculptures to the late 2030s are still unconfirmed. More details to follow.", "Summary of experimentation log.\n\nIntroduction: The ultimate goal is to replicate the condition found in the primordial subject - I - and the goal of this summary is therefore, ultimately, to understand the cost of attaining immortality for humans.\n\nThe recessive trait expressing immortality appears to be the result of a unique genetic mutation, and seems unlikely to ever again occur in another human. The cost of not succeeding in these experiments will therefore be the loss of life that will befall every human born before we manage to wipe ourselves out, supposing immortals manage to supplant normals. This toll will be at least in the 100's of billions. This is the blood that will be on my hands should I not manage to produce immortal offspring.\n\nThe cost of attaining this immortality will be measured in the subjects needed to reproduce the recessive gene combination without deliterious recessive traits - and it will be measured in all those 100's of billions of humans that will not be born. When only the immortal remain, human evolution will largely cease - but so will sexual selection, and so will the need for finding a mate. We may turn from our dusty rock, and finally look to the stars for fulfillment and answers and life.\n\n30 courses have been run so far.\n\nThe first course was conservative; 64 viable specimen were selected for direct breeding with the progenitor, from a wide variety of geographic locations, which resulted in a population of 64 healthy offspring each with 50% progenitor material. 50%p for short.\n\nEach of these was bread with a non offspring speciment, resulting in 64 25%p specimen. These were crossbred for 7 generations in an attempt to isolate the trait in decent conditions. Course one proved ineffective, but only 3 examples of deleterious conditions happened throughought course one.\n\nCourse 2 was based on 64 50%p specimen being crossbred for 7 generations. Incidence of deleterious traits overall within the course reached 5%, discounting the superficial ones; but this was when the deleterious specimen were discarded from breeding further. The trait was not isolated.\n\nDuring course 3, deleterious speciment were not discarded, and the proportion of deleterious traits rose to 62% by generation 7.\n\nCourse 4 and 5 cover generations 8-through-14 of courses 2 and 3, when the populations were continually crossbread. In course 4, 3% of individuals did not express deleterious traits, with 58% being stillborn. In course 5, 100% of 14th generation offspring expressed deleterious traits, and 87% were stillborn.\n\nThe trait was not isolated.\n\nCourses 6-through-15 cover various varieties of crossbreeding with larger populations, the largest being the basis for course 11 at 2048 50%p direct decendent progenitor offspring.\n\nThe trait was not isolated.\n\nIn course 16, it was determined the progenitor must be introduced as a mate. Courses 16 - through - 20 introduce the progenitor once at generations 7-through-3, with only a slight increase in stillborn offspring; it seemed the progenitors direct offspring had a far higher likelihood of survival, though the number of deleterious traits still seemed to compound - albeit in surprising ways.\n\nThe trait still remained not isolated.\n\nFor courses 21-through-29, the progenitor was introduced at higher and higher fractional frequencies; every 8th generation for 21, and in 2 out of every 3 generations for course 29.\n\nThe trait appeared to be isolated during course 29, but the deleterious effects in the few individuals were too many; among them were complete sterility, inability to properly digest many foods, complete lack of skin melanin, inability to properly retain iron, near 100% incidence of psychopathic and borderline personality disorders, and a 100% occourence of severe anemia. \n\nA different approach has been chosen for course 30, which is still ongoing. Rather than attempt to systematically control the gene pool, the progenitor is simply bred untill deleterious traits appear, then these are bread away with new blood, then the offspring is once again bred with the progenitor.\n\nIt is hoped that course 30 will manage to isolate the trait without incurring sterility.", "Look, OP, you're thinking about this all wrong. Breeding experiments were all the rage back in 400 BC, and yeah, they sounded interesting again when Mendel & Darwin shed some new light on the problem in the 1800's. But really, none of that went anywhere. The future is in biotech.\n\nIt is amazing what 14,000 years of wealth will get you in modern biotech. So let me take a step back and tell you that this is also a love story. After this long, it's weird to be in love again, but I think it might work this time. And here's how it's happening:\n\nI've seen enough to know that diversification is important. Don't put all your eggs in one basket; don't set up all your illegal human experiments in one country. They're not even that sketchy as human experiments go - no one's getting hurt, governments just get fussy about this shit. What I have is a nice set of labs dedicated to some of the latest in targeted genome editing. The CRISPR-Cas9 system and a few fun modifications of that. Just go Google it if you need the details. The short version is that we take a fertilized egg and pop out the native gene and pop in the bit that matches my DNA. Beautiful! Simple! Doesn't do squat for me at this point!\n\nIt doesn't work because what I have does not follow simple Mendelian inheritance. Nope, I have some multi-locus shit going on here. There are many mutations that made me, and I don't know yet which combination makes me so timeless.\n\nWhere the love story comes in, is that you might be able to tell I'm into the biology here. Life get's boring if I don't find new stuff to do. In my Russian lab they think I'm quality control form the man at the top. They practically piss themselves to lick my boots. At my US lab they think I'm military oversight, but they also think they work for the military so they're a bit dense. At my Chinese lab however, I had the admittedly stupid idea to moonlight as a bench scientist.\n\nSo while my US lab is working on an exhaustive assessment of unique variate and epigenetic modifications in my genome, my Chinese lab is getting to be experts in popping genes in & out of just-ferilized embryos. Because I don't want more of me. I have that. We sorted out cloning back in the 90's, and I have 5 of me. We don't like to hang out all that much, every couple decades we get together and admire how almost-identical we are. What I want is other people who don't die. \n\nAnd that's what I was having fun with in China, until the head of that lab figured me out. I did pick Zhang Wei for his cleverness so it wasn't a total surprise when he invited me to his office and asked what it would take for him to be immortal. He's smart, as I said. He knew better than to make demands or I'd raze him from the face of the earth. He also knew we couldn't make him immortal, though we could maybe make a new one of him that is immortal. So we started working together on more honest terms. Yadda, yadda, thrown together by circumstance, late nights conducting illegal research on human embryos, and we fell in love. \n\nThe lab feels really weird about this, understandably. As far as they're aware I'm this unremarkable, pudgy, 20-something white girl and he's a fucking genuis. They think he's going senile since he's pushing 95, and I'm taking advantage. (Also he looks like Mr. Miyagi with a fu manchu, which might contribute to their misunderstanding the situation. But, God I would fuck him so hard if it wouldn't shatter his pelvis.) ... I digress.\n\nSo you could say that there's a breeding experiment here, cause Wei and I will probably eventually combine gametes when we can make an immortal kid. Of course he will probably be long dead by then, and I'll have an immortal clone-Wei of my very own, to help raise the munchkin. \n\nIn fact if you believe in soul mates, all the many me's can have their own Wei's. Me#3 has already met him and expressed an interest. Me#2 is too busy leading her quasi-Buddhist cult, and Me#4 doesn't get a Wei until she stops with the damned bio-terrorism. I mean, seriously 7 billion is an annoying number of people, but killing a couple billion is not the solution. Ugh. She's just too young to remember the black plague. \n\nAnyway, that's about where I'll leave you. We've got a nice factorial experiment running to see which combination of variants is essential for immortality. I estimate a mere 50 - 100 years until I can start making immortal clone-Wei's, and after that I just need one to fall back in love with me. It's okay, I have time.\n\n", "One Tuesday morning while sipping on my morning coffee, the bitterness seemed to resonate with my mood more closely than usual. It had been a restless night, a nice calm night breaking at the sounds of my neighbor's parent's viciously threaten to break down society's social constructs to get to the real issue of why the husband hadn't taken out the trash. \n\n\nI had mulled over this question myself, using male rationale to empathize with John Thompson of 12 Hurle Ave. He could have been forgetful, I know all too well, even after thousands of years to take out the fresh fruit now turned sour and rotten from days of neglect. I shook my head before realizing I was simply distracting myself again.\n\n\nI placed the empty cup into the sink to wash later. Another distraction for another time. After all, I have my entire life ahead of me. \n\n\nI still appeared to be in my late twenties, late thirties, a full beard with my yellow skin, a \"yuppy\" as older people called me. A young professional only seeking the short release of love and the pursuit of happiness through financial gains! They professed that I would only learn the meaning of happiness when I got older and began to value the more important things in life, like settling down and have a family!\n\n\nAppearances can be deceiving. I'm older than I look.\n\n\nI was thirteen thousand years four hundred and twenty five years young in fact. I have had quite a few families, though none particularly worthy of note. Which got me to think that while in the short time that I have been presence as a human being, I have never met any other individual in the same predicament. \n\n\nAn odd question that from time to time that I would dwell on, I began mulling a simple experiment over. I am one individual that has an infinite amount of time with a finite amount of resources. How best to implement a society that would begin to change due to the injection of foreign DNA such as an immortal? \n\n\nIn my mind I began crunching numbers, simply over generations in different combinations and circumstance. If I had two children per mother per generation, with at least ten mothers, the offspring would be at least 20 units of human life back into the equation. Assuming an even split of male to female, with ten of each gender, the best I could hope for is a few hundred units of life in a few generations, given no intervention. If I seduced the female offspring in a far enough line, I could re-inject more DNA and ensure the continued production of life. \n\n\nNumbers went through my head, as I walked over to my work desk. I shuffled a few tax forms and placed them on my bed, all while debating whether it would be easier or more difficult to intervene, or whether the parameters would allow for more... drastic measures... to ensure a controlled experiment.\n\n\nA proper thought about this would have to be done. Little did I know, sometimes the largest changes comes from the smallest of seeds.\n\n\n---\n\n\nI had ruled societies at a majority of levels during humanities dark and middle ages. I had been a duke first, then a baron, but my favourite was count. Priviledged, but still without major responsibilities I had discovered was the way to go. I had ruled as Emperor once, but it was far too taxing on my mind, even as intelligence as I could be. Kingdoms were no better.\n\n\nNow, ruling as a dictatorship, something that I truly only had glimpsed into, was something far different. Especially as 50% of the rule class is of direct descent to you, share your DNA and has the potential to murder you at every corner. \n\n\nBreeding only takes time, and the best way to control the breeding is simply just to control the society. \n\n\nI didn't mean to destroy the foundations of civilization as we knew it, or at least as people saw it before, but if you want to make an omlette, you have to break some eggs.\n\n\nAt least the coffee isn't as bitter as before..", "This is my first post on writingprompt, its a bit long. Hope you guys like it.\n\nI have many names and many identities. Once I was hailed as a saviour, a king another time, and now i'm just a neighborhood shoemaker for a mining city in the north of Canada. The locals would call me Jon the sole saver. I have a secret and that is I can control time around me. This comes with many benefits. For one, my mind subconsciously stops time within me so I don't age and when I get hurt all wounds heal within minutes. All these things happen without my control like how a heart beats without anyone thinking about it. I have always wondered if there is someone else like me but after fourteen thousand years the answer is still no, that is until I met the woman of my life, Nora. When I told her my secret she didn't freak out nor did she act like one of those worshipping fanatic freaks. She just embraced me, it was the happiest moment of my life knowing that at least one person would treat me normally. Of course we got married. It was a small wedding, just the two of us at a local church. In our honeymoon she told me that I was her hero because in a lot of comics it seems the hero in hiding always hid themselves somewhere north of Canada. I don't want to be her hero because she already is mine. We tried to have children many times but we always fail. We went to a local doctor who knew about my powers we were good friends. He did some examinations on Nora and came to the conclusion that the Egg; once it reached the embryonic stage it just stops as if time stopped around it. That night I laid on my bed, Nora was crying in the washroom. I want to comfort her but I have to words to say. Its as if the laws of nature is rejecting me, my children are rejecting themselves even before birth. It hurts me deeply but I know it hurt Nora more. After that night we stopped trying.\n\n40 years has passed since that time, Nora turned 60 today but her beauty is still shown even under all the winkles. I can't sleep, I went to the kitchen and poured some milk into a cup, milk's gone bad. Nora will leave me soon, these brief few years won't last long. What do I do? What can I do? The more I thought the more ludicrous my ideas got. What if I made Nora immortal? I you need a specimen theres a living one right here. I'll think more about it tomorrow. I turned off the kitchen lights and left for bed, the cup was empty.\n\nThe next day i went to the local doctor. The doc's son was there too hr plans to take over his father's clinic soon so I just call him doc junior or DJ for short. I asked the doctor if he could find why I'm the way I am. We took blood samples and cell samples. After a few weeks doc concluded that it wasy blood and soon I began my experiments.\n\nFirst it was animals I injected my blood in a wild boar first it died as its blood froze it self in time. Doc and i decided that we need to make a serum from my blood that will activate simultaneously when it has spread throughout the body. It finally worked on a lab rat. Its time for human trials. Doc volunteered and his son DJ agreed to it too. DJ wants to evolutionize Medicine. If everyone was immortal then war, hunger would be pointless and dissappear. I don't care about that, I just want Nora to be with me forever. It didn't work, doc died from brain damage as the serum spread through his body partially. DJ was sad but in his eyes it was a worthy sacrifice for the greater good.\n\nDJ and I continued to work on our serum for the next 15 years failure after failure and Nora is running out of time. She's bed ridden, DJ has been monitoring her and its not looking well her stomach cancer is eating away her health. Out of options I told DJ that I'm going to use the new serum on Nora.\n\nIt was late at night and extremely windy. I walked into our room and Nora laid there slilently asleep, her skin pale and sickly green. I held her hand and she woke up. Flustered that I woke her up I let go her hand. She looked at me and said \"I'm glad that got to spend my time with you. I am satisfied with this life so please don't be sad.\"\n\nI went to the kitchen to get some medicine and water for her. I mixed the serum in the water and brought it to her. She drank it and went to sleep\n\nEdit: accidentally clicked send before finishing so still not done", "As I sit comfortably in my lounge chair by the pool, watching my son swim laps, I can confidant say that I have never been happier in the last 14, 000 years.\n\nI remember when I first realized I was immortal 14 millenia ago. I had lived a modest life to that point. I was a farmer like my father, as was his father before him. We planted the seeds of the wild fruit we found in the forest, and with this bounty we were able to support our small tribe even when the hunters were unsuccessful. Unlike my father and tribe however, my skin shone a brilliant white and my hair grew wildly. My small tribe accepted this, and I felt lucky to be commited to my woman Ooka, especially after she bore our 6 beautiful children. We and my parents shared a small hovel in the beautiful country now know as South Africa. But the great drought came on my 35th birthday. The wild fruit seeds were lost, and the hunters could only find dead and rotted animals as far as they searched. \n\nI watched as my parents starved to death, then my wife. I ate little and had a burning hunger, but I stayed healthy. I did everything possible to scavange for food, but it was a barren wasteland and my children too weak to travel. Eventually even the last insects and vegetation died. When the the youngest finally died, the 3 oldest who could still walk and I began to migrate. A week later, everyone I had ever known was dead when I finally laid my eldest to rest. \n\nI lay there beside him for a week, willing my body to die. It wouldn't. I jumped off the highest cliff I could find, and got up without a scratch. I threw myself onto a spear, and the spear point couldn't break my skin. I tried to remember if I had even got a scratch- and I couldn't. Maybe I was always like this. And Maybe I always would be. And the maybe turned into certainty. And it was then I knew. I knew I was immortal.\n\n\n", "\"I waited so long.\n\nBefore modern civilization, I had no idea how I could be so different. I just hunted seals and mammoth, watched as my woman and sons, and then grandchildren, aged, and then died. The people of the low lands revered me at first, but as time went on it became necessary to wander, no place more than a few years. Thousand of years passed the same way, years blurring into each other, nothing but the endless march of the seasons. Sometimes I would find companions to walk with me. Every one of them withered or took sick, and left me to walk alone again. All so long ago I couldn't even remember them if I hadn't tattooed their symbols into my skin with their ashes. Their faces are all lost to time. All the children I created I saw to their graves.\n\nEventually my people were no more, no-one knew or remembered our rites, or even our name. The sea rose and drowned my hunting grounds, and I followed the other refugees to the hills. I wandered for millenia more, nothing really changing, not understanding what purpose I had in the world. I never was the brightest. But, immortality does give you a lot of time to think. And after the first five hundred years nothing really surprises you. I stopped connecting with people, stayed alone apart from the odd necessary trading trip or a night with a woman. Sometimes I'd see a man or woman with the flaming red hair of my tribe, or a familiar face, and wonder if they were my blood. But I never stayed too long. Every death took a piece of my spirit with them, and I just didn't have the strength in my heart to love, mourn and forget any more. The forgetting being the hardest part. I can't remember the names or faces of my children, all the places I lived with them are nothing but fields. Or under the sea.\n\nThen the world changed, quickly for me. Darker, sharp faced people from across the water, where the great old river once flowed into the Atlantic. They brought new ways to live, sheep, pottery, big villages. I stayed clear of these for a while, scared of the change. Then curiosity got the better of me, and I became a traveling trader and mixed in with them. Eventually the people started to change in front of my eyes. My own tribe's red hair colour became common again. They started to look something like the people I had been born too. \n\nIt was my own bloodline in these people causing the change. So many women, so many children, all carrying tiny pieces of me into the future, with each generation. After a few decades, I realized that possibly whatever was making me live longer, might also be passed down somehow. Of course, I had no idea how then. But I wanted to know. So I started to study. I watched how the animals were molded to fit different tasks by breeding them, tasted the fruits getting sweeter with each generation.\n\nThis would have been about the time of the Romans. What a blessing writing is, you moderns have no idea how inconvenient and inaccurate an oral history is. I started keeping notes, drawings. I amassed great fortune, land, gold, gems. Many different areas. I built fine homes in different parts of the country, and then move and change name every couple of decades, in a cycle. And I started marrying again. I'd pick some young healthy girl with red hair, and produce as many children as possible, and then when she was past childbearing age I would fake my death, leaving her and the children well provided for. I've been doing this about 1800 years now. I never really became attached to any of them. They were really a means to an end.\n\nAnd then, a monk, one of those silly new religions that locks people away from the world, started breeding flowers. Such a seemingly pointless hobby, but it turns out it was the beginning of the end of my search. The word 'recessive', it made everything make sense.\n\nI invested everything into pursuit of understanding hereditary, genetics, mutation. I got multiple degrees, patience making up for any lack of brilliance on my part. Then the scientists I funded by proxy made breakthroughs like lightning, and I was able to study my genome in its entirety. Ninety seven recessive genes are the cause of my difference. Why I don't get sick, heal every wound completely, don't age. No magic, just science. Needless to say by this point, I started donating to fertility clinics to increase the frequency of my recessive genes in the population\n\nAnd then I set up the free screening program for genetic diseases. The govt loved it, gave me a knighthood. The whole program was designed to find others almost like me. And that was how I found all of the colonists for my private ship, a hundred and eighty years later, when the first warp capable spaceships left for new worlds.\n\nOf course, none of them had a clue, although they did wonder at the high percentage of red heads in the selection. I never gave myself away in the early colony years, thankfully the anti ageing therapies I had funded extended life and youth. So, no-one has noticed I am not ageing yet.\n\nAnd then twenty years ago your mother was born. And she was perfect. I tested her in infancy; perfect healing, telomere constancy, perfect immune system. I knew at once what she was, and when she hit eighteen I swept her off her feet. And then there was you. And you are the same, perfect.\"\n\nHe gently cradled the fractious, ferociously ginger haired baby in his arms, too young to understand she had forever in front of her. \n\n\"Now go to sleep, Sweetpea. Daddy loves you.\"", "In my 14,000 years of life, I have had countless lovers, husbands, wives, boyfriends and girlfriends; I have also had just as many divorces, break ups and name changes. I was 40 years old when I realized I wasn't ageing. It seemed that I had stopped somewhere around 30, my husband and I at the time had decided to live a child-free lifestyle wanting to get the most out of the one life we had together. Little did I know, I would have several lifetimes. It wasn't long after that that I started to age myself, dying my hair grey, faking fine lines, until one day he died. Just like that, he went to work one day and never came home. I tried not to dwell on that. We had an amazing 30 years together and I mourned him like anyone would in their first life. From that point on, I realized that I needed to be careful and I needed to get smart real fast on the process of changing identities. I didn't know how long I would live and I didn't know how long it would take for me to start ageing again. I would never fully love anyone like I did my first husband, I got close a few times, there was this one woman in Australia who made me feel more alive at 600 than I did at 60, but that first life was special. \n\nI was about 800 or so when I started to consider having children. Before it seemed irresponsible, what if they weren't immortal, I would have to abandon them at some point when it became clear that I wasn't ageing. But then I started considering what would happen if they were like me, I could have company, I could have someone that I wouldn't have to watch decay over the years. \n\nIt was easy to find sperm, men were always willing to give it out, just say you have an IUD and you are good to go. At first, I only had sex with men that I was naturally attracted to. I figured that had to be pheromones or something guiding me the best possible candidates, but after countless of miscarriages and failed attempts here I am. 14000 years old and formally trying to figure out the best candidates for mating purposes. It had become so scientific I rarely even had sex at this point. Insemination seemed like it would be the best way to ensure pregnancy. I even had a few eggs harvested so that I could try multiple different sperm on different eggs. \n\nIt was through this that I was able to see what was happening at a cellular level, the miscarriages that I had been having weren't young cells that had just not been viable, they had become old dead cells. I observed in test tube after test tube, sperm enter egg, cells begin to divide, and after 6-12 weeks the cells would all start dying, almost as if they were ageing too quickly to keep up with the new cell growth. \n\nI begin studying the DNA of various men that I had figured were viable candidates, based on the average longevity of their family history, this always lasted the longest. There was a definite link, but not strong enough. Then I decided to approach it from a different angle. I, obviously, possessed a recessive gene and longevity seemed to be a dominate gene. What if I began looking for men that came from families with really short life spans. \n\nIt was hard to find with the advances of medical science. It seemed as if everyone could live to 120 easily, but they were there. The people whose minds started to fade early, or hearts gave out despite a healthy lifestyle. I finally found a man with a series of recessive genes, red hair, color blind, and so forth. It had taken centuries, but here I was 8 months down, one to go. ", "14,000 years. 14,000 years and I'm reduced to this?\n\nWhy wasn't the timer visible? Or audible. He checked the card. This was the last one.\n\nWhat was it saying? Something about residency? He couldn't be sure. It hadn't shut its mouth in since wiggling into the seat opposite him.\n\n\"...then it's only to Hopkins for research. I hope.\"\n\nDid it...did it just wink? Cyrus drew a target in the last column of his card, directly under eight rows of z's. He pictured stabbing and suffocating it until the noise stopped. It continued to speak, oblivious to his narrowing eyes. Mercifully, the buzzer sounded.\n\nHe shot to his feet, nearly flipping the table over in his haste to leave, and tossed the card over his shoulder. \n\nOne month, forty-six candidates and not one was suitable. The most recent batch were a bevy of literate morons. Mrs. Pea should seek a new profession because matchmaker wasn't her forte.\n\n \"Mister Knolls!\" The hostess, Mrs. Pea, chased after him, her heels clacking against the marble floors. \"Oh dear. I thought this round for sure...\"\n\nHe whirled on her and then bit back an especially nasty tirade when he saw her gnarled fingers twisting into each other. Adjusting the blue silk of his tie, Cyrus let the material calm him. Blue like the ocean. Blue as the sky. Blue like Mrs. Pea's face if he tied it around her wispy neck and dangled her from the restaurant's chandelier. The smile came naturally at that image and he opened his eyes and offered it to her. \"Mrs. Pea, I'm afraid this isn't going to work. I will have to wait for the right match.\"\n\n\"Mr. Knolls, you paid me a great deal of money to find you the perfect match. I intend to deliver on my promise. It's only been a month! There are plenty more men and women to meet. Maybe if you--\" she cleared her throat--\"What exactly was missing from the last two groups?\"\n\n\"I believe I'll require something unattainable at this time, Mrs. Pea.\" Turning on his heel, he grabbed his hat and coat from the rack near the exit. \"I can wait.\"\n\n\"Wait? Wait for what, Mr. Knolls?\"\n\n\"Evolution, Mrs. Pea.\"\n\nA bell over the door jingled as it closed behind him.", "\"Novemeber 27th, 2015, today marks the beginning of trials on subject 7. \n\nSubject 7 also known as…fuck where did I put the…whatever it's easier when I don't know their names. Subject 7 came to my attention as the result of a newspaper article about a woman who was the sole survivor of a multi car pile up. Note for anyone listening to these tapes, and that includes you, future me, you know how we forget this stuff, I named her subject 7 in honour of the number of cars involved in the collision. You are not missing the last three subjects.\n\nDigging into her history I've found three more potentially fatal instances in her life that she appeared to escape from largely unscathed. Note, I can't remember if these instances were the result of some sort of Unbreakable inspired scheme on my part, a movie I only some what remember, thanks to the utilization of skills learned from the movie Memento a movie I don't really remember at all.\n\nSubject is restrained in the waiting room. I have decided to conduct the breeding there as I realized the only difference between the waiting room and the breeding room is the presence of the turkey baster I use for the experiment. In a, if I can brag, brilliant move I have decided to…move, get it, the turkey baster to the waiting room, freeing up the breeding room for some other purpose. Perhaps that sock puppet theatre I have been kicking around for the last century, as it occurs to me that if one of these experiments takes hold and does not have to be terminated, I will find myself with a child and while it's been a while since I was one, I believe I would have liked sock puppets.\n\nI am now entering the waiting room where…oh shit subject 7 has escaped shit shit shit, all I have to defend myself is this turkey baster and my immortality. Wait... my immortality. \n\nI can use that.\n\nUnless she pricks me with a needle full off…my knock out stuff…and then escapes…she's shaking her head…wait wait wait you could…run experiments and stuff on me…and I'd never die…and then you could make an immortality serum…guys she's nodding I'm riiiiiiiiii…\n\nThud\n\nClick\n\n[Subreddit] (https://www.reddit.com/r/SarkasticWatcher/)", "BEGIN LOG\nDate:\t37 July, 5721 Anno Domini.\nDay 185 of Year 2600 United Earth Founding. \nNote: Today is Founding Day, remember to fire off controlled pyrotechnics tonight.\nProject LEGACY, Experiment 99, Entry 216-7.\n\nMy wife died last night at approximately 2249 GMT. She was 216 years, 3 months, and 16 days old. She left behind 6 adoptive children, all well into their 40s to 100s, and myself. The funeral will be held in two days’ time, in a little spot just off the coast of where Seattle used to be, in the same spot where I proposed to her. It seems fitting, that we should part forever in the same spot where we became one “forever”. She was so sweet, my Meredith, and losing her feels like I’ve lost yet another part of my soul. She was the best wife I’ve ever had, and yet, she marks another “failure” in the LEGACY project. Another woman who could not bear a child for me, or should I say, for the Council. The Council, of course, will send along their regards, but I know that they are just hollow words. All they want to see is a “success”, a child born with the same ailment as my own, born to live forever, free of disease and able to heal from the most grievous of injuries. Not content with 200-year life-spans, they wish to “ascend to god-hood” and rule as a part of the Council for all eternity. They see me as a piece of a puzzle that they are only missing a single piece to and search desperately for the final piece.\n\nBut enough of the Council, this entry is not about them, this is about Meredith, my beautiful Meredith, always smiling, even as the Cancer spread to her eyes, blinding her before it made its way to her brain. Her voice will ring in my ears for all eternity, the way she sang the children to sleep, the way she would whisper my name as we lay in bed with each other, the way she would say “Welcome home.” when I came out of my study after another day of Council work. Her cooking was beyond compare, I’ve tasted the art of culinary geniuses the world over and nothing they made could hold a candle to the home-cooked meals she made. Her sense of humor was infectious, like a disease (Ha! Disease. Get it? You would have loved that one.), and everyone she met came away from the encounter happier. She was the moon of my life, our children the stars, the night sky ever bright with their presence. But now the moon has fallen, and the sun wishes for nothing but to fall with her.\n\nI’m not sure I can do this anymore. For over two millennia, I have sat and watched helplessly as lover after lover after lover has withered away and died for Project LEGACY while I have barely aged a year. Sure I may look like I’m in my early 200s, but today’s makeup and disguise programs can fool even the best of people. I’m tired of this charade, of this parody of life. This is not life, this is torture, and I refuse to participate in it any longer. I’ve already spoken with my “Doctor”; he has agreed to help me fake my death again, as his family has done for the past 30 generations. This time however, I will not return to the civilized world. I will retire to our summer home in the woods and focus on Project GAME OVER. Damn the Council and their quest for god-hood, I have given my all for this planet and its people, I have served the governments of the world for over 14 millennia. I have fought in more wars and killed more people than any dictator in history. I have saved more people as a doctor than any cure. I am tired and weary, and it is time for me to sleep. I will finish Project GAME OVER, that is my only goal. I will see my Meredith again.\n\nEdit 1: Minor spelling corrections. Thanks for helping out, I was very tired when I wrote this.", "Senator Cochran sat down on the edge of the bed. He tried to brush a piece of hair away from the woman’s face, but she pulled back and slapped his hand away. The swelling in her face hadn’t started to go down, but the bruises were already turning an angry purple.\n\n“Don’t fucking touch me,” she said. \n\n“Don’t get too feisty,” said Cochran. “I like them with some spirit in the bed but not out of it.”\n\nShe spit in his face and sneered. Cochran backhanded her, a shriek escaping her lips. She held the side of her face. Blood spilled from a gash in her lip as she began crying.\n\n“I wouldn’t have to do this if you would just have my child,” said Cochran. His voice was level and calm, almost monotone.\n\nThe woman didn’t meet his gaze. She curled into a ball and continued crying.\n\n“Do you know how long I’ve had to do this?” said Cochran, standing. He moved in front of the bedroom’s window and looked out on the palatial gardens. \n\n“Fuck you,” she said.\n\n“I’ve been with more women than I can remember,” said Cochran. “Millennias of trying with queens, princesses farm girls, seamstresses. High and low in society.” He turned to look at the sobbing bundle of woman on the bed. “And here I find some dirty, gold digging whore who can have my child.” His voice had an edge of contempt. The calmness on his face started to wash away.\n\nHer sobs had quieted. “What?”\n\n“Fourteen thousand years, by my count, and then I have unprotected sex with some tart at a party because I need to release, and what do I find out?” he said. Cochran’s face darkened, his posture became more hunched, more predatory. “I find out she can have my child, which no one has ever been able to do,” he screamed, “and she has an abortion.” \n\nThe woman screamed as Cochran began yelling and punching holes in the wall.\n\n“And now,” yelled Cochran, “ you made me keep you here until you have my child.”\n\n“No,” whispered the woman. She clutched the sheets over her naked body. “No.”\n\n“Yes,” sneered Cochran. “I’m going to have my way with you every day until you’re pregnant.” He stalked over to the bed, his hands curled into claws. “And when you’re pregnant you will have the best doctors and when my child is born you will be cast away.”\n\n“No,” she whispered. She shook her head without looking at Cochran. \n\nHe stood and straightened his tie and slicked back any loose hairs. The anger disappeared. The calm returned to his face and his voice. “Yes, I will and do you know why I’ll be able to do it?”\n\nShe continued shaking her head.\n\n“Because you’re a whore who no one cares about, and I’m currently a Senator with several lifetimes of connections,” he said, moving toward the bedroom door. “And I’ve been doing this longer than any civilization has been around.”\n\n“You’re crazy.”\n\n“No,” laughed Cochran. He winked and opened the bedroom door. “No. Just immortal with my biological clock ticking.” \n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 6, 12, 41, 43, 44, 84, 153, 206, 732 ]	[ "1443304820", "1443306061", "1443299432", "1443304976", "1443306343", "1443307212", "1443293558", "1443293664", "1443299492", "1443300377", "1443288384", "1443288290", "1443292441", "1443302400", "1443292997", "1443287452", "1443281288", "1443285245", "1443282416" ]
It's easy to write what I wish I could do, but I wonder what other people want. So write me that. I'm interested to see it.	[WP] Tell me what you wish you could live. It can be anything, from the most mundane, ordinary scenario to the most wild and fantastical. And write it any way you want.	19	[ "I wake up to same room I wake up in every day. I groggily get out of bed and walk past my computer and my gigantic bookshelf. I get dressed and I walk outside. Its always nice to walk outside and be greeted by a bunch of trees instead of the many idiots that make up society. I grab my bike and start running the trails behind my house. I always liked bike rides. They gave me time to think. I reached the lake where I could see the beautiful sunrise. I sat there for a little bit just admiring the sheer beauty of the natural world. This can't last forever though. Everyone has to deal with society sooner or later. I ride back to my house and take a shower. I walk out to my truck and start the long ride into the city. I didn't mind the traffic that much since I knew the destination was well worth it. I park far away because that is the only spot that I will ever bother finding. I start walking down the streets listening to all the live music coming from all of the coffee shops. All this cool music was probably the best part of my day. I stop in my favorite shop to grab a cup. I see a girl sitting in the corner. She looks lonely so I walk over to her. I ask if that seat was taken and she said no. We started having a pretty nice normal conversation which is not what I expected from her but I liked it not to crazy. I realize what time it is and say I have to get to work but I asked her if she would like to meet me here for lunch and she agreed so I headed out and completed my great walk through the city until I got to my office. As I sat down at my desk I say to myself \"What a great morning!\"", "Sunlight filtered through the glass, making the room look as though it was outside. I watched it, lazily spinning the dust motes with my hand. Part of me said I should probably clean, but in the midmorning like this, the dust was just another piece of beauty.\n\nBesides, I was too busy for something so mundane as cleaning.\n\nWell, I thought, I should probably get out of bed.\n\nI stretched, pushing the heavy blankets off of my body. I heard a thud- and then another, and another. How many books had I left on my bed last night? I was positive I had gotten all of them last night. I craned my neck and surveyed the damage- nothing valuable, thankfully, just a Latin dictionary, a tome of canine physiology, and one of my journals. Nothing that couldn't handle a good knocking.\n\nI bustled about, gathering the books I'd knocked down, and returned them to their spots on the shelves- three down, six over for the canine book; two from the top and seven over for the Latin; and the journal goes in the pile on my desk. I should really organize my notes, I thought, and then did as I always did and tucked that thought away for a later time.\n\nAs I dressed, I reviewed my day. I had to return my scrolls from Alexandria to the library today or the keepers would be after my head. The king wanted me to brief him on a particular historical battle someone he was meeting tomorrow was interested in, and of course I had the princess's Latin lessons. \n\nWas that really it? I wracked my brains, trying to remember, but that really did seem to be it. Maybe I'd have time to get the most recent book from Maximillian tonight, and maybe even eat in the dining hall instead of in my room. \n\nI smiled, and began gathering my scrolls.", "Tomorrow was the departure, flight 890 from London to Seattle. Another flight, another life, another story.\n\nLondon had spanned four years. I'd come there from Valparaiso, and there from Boston, and there from Vienna, and so on and so forth.\n\nI was an odd type of traveler. Most stay a week in a city. I stay years.\n\nWhat do you do in a week? See some touristy spots? The London Eye? Westminster? Bleh.\n\nNo, with years, you learn about a city and its people. You make friends from all walks of life, you find the best pubs and appreciate them over the years, you find the love of your life at least three times, and you try your best not to get kicked out of the country all the while.\n\nThe sights and sounds of London would never leave me. I'd made best friends with a banker named Hannah from Chelmsford. I'd never heard of Chelmsford before her. We'd meet a bloke named James at a club in Chelsea every weekend, and occasionally, the three of us took trips together to Scotland because goddamn was that accent wonderful. \n\nAs I look out over the night lights of London from my flat for the last time, I begin to tear up. I was going to miss life here.\n\nOne time, the tube drivers all went on strike, and I had to walk four miles across the center of the city. I got hungry halfway through, and ended up finding this amazing Italian place. I told Hannah about it, and we promised to go sometime. \n\nWe never did.\n\nWe'd all said our goodbyes earlier. There were many tears shed, but it was the way of things. I realized now that I'd forgotten to hug James before he left. It's odd, the regrets you have later on. It was never the things you did do, but the ones you didn't do.\n\nBack in Valparaiso, I once tried to learn how to surf. Ever since I was a child, I'd wanted to give it a go. I was told that the way the board smacked my face as it all went tits up was majestic.\n\nBut no regrets, at least it made for a funny story to tell at parties.\n\nTalia was a girl I'd met at those same surfing lessons. We ended up dating for a year before I left, but she wouldn't leave her family behind to come with me. I think about that sometimes, though, if I'd just stayed with her. We could've married, as she wanted to. But I'd had my doubts about settling down, so I didn't. I miss her, though.\n\nThat's what brings me to the present, actually. This was all supposed to be about how great London was, but the thing is, things tend to blend together eventually. James got married, and we went to his wedding out in the countryside, where I was reminded of Talia, and that's when I finally decided.\n\nI'm going home.\n\nI wanted to settle down for once, to know what it was like to have lifelong friends and a house, to have a family. That's what's drawn me back to where it all began, the first place I called home.\n\nHome has been Seattle, Des Moines, Vienna, Boston, Valparaiso, and now London. I'm tired now, of starting a new life for myself among amazing people and incredible cities, only to leave it all again. Only for friendships to deteriorate to Facebook messages and cities to yearnings for distant restaurants and plazas.\n\nI've been guided all my life by wanderlust, but finally I have grown wise enough to accept that I can't live every life. I will never experience everything, everyplace, everyone. It's been a weary lesson that's spanned almost two decades, but it's made me the man I am today, for which I'm proud.\n\nYet, if I had the chance to tell my younger self this all, I wouldn't do it. My childhood dream had been to see the world, and you know what?\n\nWe regret the things we didn't do infinitely more than the things we did, and my greatest fear was always that one day, I'd find myself on my deathbed a regretful, old man.", "The pavement bent and warped as I walked, jiggling and wobbling as people moved around. Houses, lamp posts and trees wobbled and swayed around in the reddish sunrise. There was joy everywhere as children cheerfully giggled as they jumped around on their springy lawns.\n\nThe whole world was bouncy. There was no need for trampolines or bouncy castles. Everything is so squishy and bendy. Falling over doesn't hurt; and while cars are more difficult to drive, accidents have less tragic consequences. Hiking in the mountains is so much more fun, what with them shifting all over the place, and even cave exploration is exciting, the tunnels all bouncing around us. Football is still played, with the shifting and bouncy field making a nice twist of running around trying to kick the ball into the opponent's goal net.\n\nI stop and stood still, feeling butterflies inside of me as my body is gently bumped around as the ground wobbled up and down. I spread my arms to keep my balance. It was such a fun and happy sensation to experience.\n\nI get going again, but this time I start to jump, each landing from each leap causing my feet to press further down on the rubbery ground, and thus propelling me higher into the air. I cheerfully chuckle as I continue bounding through the neighbourhood, my hanging denim jacket flowing around me from each bounce.\n\nI love living in this world. It's so amazingly fun. I don't want to leave, ever.", "I had a dream last night, and I did not want to wake up. \n\nYou were there, with your hair shoved carelessy to the side. Your bright eyes were glimmering at the sight of me. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be looked at by you. We were only putting dishes away, but this moment was so sweet that I could not hold back my overwhelming joy, and I kissed you sweetly on the mouth.\n\n\"I love you,\" I told you. You smiled and hugged me tight, kissing the top of my head.\n\n\"I love you more.\" \n\nI could almost smell you when I breathed you in. Memories bleed through dreams like ink into the pages behind the one we're writing on. I couldn't bear it, and I woke suddenly with my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I was angry. I didn't want to wake up so soon. I wanted longer with you, there in that place in my dreams that held us together, tethered forever in the only place I wanted to live. \n\nI felt tears threaten the backs of my eyes, and I wanted all of those moments back, the ones I never got with you. Those ordinary moments that added up to equal the most grand and magical life I could have ever imagined. \n\nIt isn't fair, but I keep that life beneath my eyelids and I stay with you when I fall asleep. It's the only thing that keeps me alive. " ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 4, 4 ]	[ "1443391391", "1443382151", "1443384699", "1443382690", "1443392390" ]
	[WP] The dust settles.	6	[ "Ansel Wronski urged his mount around using just his legs, his hand reaching down to ready another javelin from the leather bucket hanging from his saddle horn. The tough ash shaft smacked into his steerhide gaunlets, the razor steel catching the light of the afternoon sun. He turned his head -the helm he wore limited peripheral vision - and readied his four foot long throwing spear, cocking it back so that the blade nearly kissed his ear. \n\nHis foe turned his steed around not nearly so neat, cursing at the javelin embedded some three inches in the surface of his rounded shield. It was painted black with a rearing horse in white. The enemy himself was well to do by their standards with a boiled leather cuirass covered in old washer rings and a helm the ancient world called a 'Fritz' helmet, no doubt a precious heirloom passed down in the five decades since the Change. He carried a light lance some eight feet long, a small pennant attached just below the lance head snapped as he whipped it around to face Ansel. His young face revealed a few chipped teeth as he snarled, spewing spittle stained by tobacco.\n\n\"Fuckin' Lakelander!\" \n\nHe kicked his mount forward, shoving the reins between his teeth as he leveled his lance at Ansel.\n\nWronski's eyes were set with grim determination as he raised his shield to answered his foe's charge. \n\n\"Cumberland! Cumberland!\" shouted the highlander, lance flashing in the light.\n\n\"Wolverines!\" replied Ansel, his aim steady despite the thunder beneath his legs, his sweat soaking into his gambeson.\n\nHe threw his weapon with all his might with perhaps thirty feet between them, the javelin a blur as it flew true, the leaf shaped blade piercing a thick washer and the hardened leather underneath to dig into his foe's shoulder. \n\n*Crraackkk!!!* \n\nThe enemy lance impacted against his tear shaped shield, gouging a deep splinter that flew wildly away, the lance breaking under the momentum. Ansel was thrown back into his saddle, his head rolling back as near a ton and half of man and steed was driven into one narrow point. He felt dripping from his nose and tasted iron in his mouth, no doubt having bit his tongue. His mind revolted against action but he clamped down on it, the danger of a concussion less urgent than potential and rather immediate iron poisoning. \n\nHe drew his saber from its sheath with a hiss of steel on leather, the rawhide wrapped round its hilt stained with sweat. \n\nHis foe was decidedly less well off, the mountain man cursing a blue streak as he threw away the useless broken lance. Gripping the javelin just behind the blade he yanked it out of his shoulder, a strangled scream as the air reached the wound. Blood flowed from the hole in his armor, not enough to be lethal but just enough to weaken him. He knew that as well and so grabbed a hold of his 'shete, waving above his head as he gave a catamount shriek and kicked his horse forward again. Ansel followed suit, blade extended as far as he could reach.\n\n\"Huzzah! Huzzah!\" he cried as steel met with steel in a spray of sparks. The pair circled around one another, their blades biting shield or glancing sword but not flesh. A back handed swipe clang off of Ansel's chain mail shirt, scraping a thin bright line across its surface as his saber sliced off an edge of his foe's shield. Beneath them their horses snorted and kicked, their hooves churning up even more dust into the air. The clansman had at least fifty pounds on Ansel but couldn't use it to his advantage, his wound soaking his undershirt red. It was his shield arm that was hurt and Ansel focused on that side, slashing in every direction and forcing his foe to tire himself shifting his shield all around. It didn't take long for the six or seven pound shield to fell like thirty, and bit by bit his blocks were just that more sluggish, the wince in his face deeper and deeper.\n\nAnsel saw his chance and slashed with a flick of his wrist, forcing the enemy horseman to moved his shield just slightly to the left to block it. It was enough. With the same wrist action he flick it over his helmeted head and across the now unguarded right side of his foe, the first four inches of his curved blade catching the highlander in the jaw. \n\nTeeth were shattered in their sockets as his cheek was slashed through, the blade also cutting through the chin strap of his helmet which toppled to the dusty ground. He screamed even louder than before, dropping both blade and shield to clench at his ruined face. Ansel did not allow him even a moment's respite, and hacked down viciously with his saber, the wet blade rising and falling like a cleaver. Washers were broken in two as his leather armor cracked, shoulder blade was broken under the bludgeoning even as the blade sunk itself deep into his enemy's neck. The man died still clutching his face, toppling from his panicking horse and onto the ground. Ansel spat on the dead man in mocking salute, giving him the finger as he circled the body.\n\n\"When you get to hell, tell 'em a Michigander sent ya!\"\n\n ", "The dust settles. He's still untouched, and as much as I hate to admit it, he's getting on my nerves.\n\nHis smirk puts me into an even worse mood. His one-liner is the clincher:\n\n\"Is that all you've got?\"\n\nReally? I think to myself, dropping my blade slightly. He's one of the most powerful beings of all time, and he literally just said 'is that all you've got.' That's just a low blow.\n\nMy eyes drift slightly to the right. My entire team was there. All of them were either dead or unconscious for a while. We came in here with a hundred, and now, it was just me and him.\n\nI look back to see him still standing there as though he's in a spotlight that won't move. Poised like he's just made a grand entrance, and a look on his face like he's proud of his son for graduating from Kindergarten.\n\n\"I'm utterly disappointed if that's all you can give. I was hoping for quite a bit more, to be honest,\" he quipped, taking a small, single step towards me.\n\n\"Yeah, well, don't worry. The best is yet to come.\"\n\n\"I'm sure it is. I hope it is, my friend.\"\n\nMan I hate this guy.\n\nIn the blink of an eye, I pull my hand back hard, the knives stuck into the wall coming out from the tension on the strings. I quickly throw a knife into the air, lobbing it so as to assure that if he jumped, he would get hit.\n\nThen, I rush, pushing myself off using Lightning in my body to supercharge my muscles. I near him and see all of my knives converging on the one point where he is.\n\nI swing, firing Lightning from behind my hand to propel it faster.\n\nMandrid doesn't even flinch as he catches my blade, and then uses it to hit all the other knives I had sent in motion. I stand, awestruck as he effortlessly yanks the blade to my left, pulling my sword out of my grip.\n\nThe fire in his eyes isn't one of evil or hatred; it's one of playful glee.\n\n\"I see now. That was your best.\"\n\nIt was at that moment that I realized that I stood no chance against this guy. I was going to lose. Heck, I hadn't stood a chance in the first place. He was too strong.\n\n\"Well then, I guess I'll just have to finish this. You offer me no entertainment or challenge.\"\n\nHe takes my blade and throws it. I yell in pain as the string I had attached to it snaps, pulling my wrist and cutting it. I don't even have time to grab it as he takes a step, picks me up with one hand, and hurls me in the same direction as my sword:\n\nOut the window and into the air 10 stories above the ground.\n\nI really hate Mandrid. I really hate that guy.\n\n____\n\nMeh. It's probably pretty bad. I honestly don't know how to write all that well. Send me critique. I could desperately use it.", "The dust settles once the last man falls dead. As dreams leave their incarnation, blood paints the rivers. The war was beautiful, it's only the result that's not. Hordes of men who've trained years for this, so tense they hardly blink their eyes. It's the beginning of a new era, the rebirth of the strong men who have been suppressed by religion for years. Strength, passion and fearlessness will replace hope, forgiving and kindness. It could be no other way, forced in this way of life by scarcity of goods. It's kill or die. The weak are a waste of resources, the intellectuals have long fled this world. This war was one of the first of it's kind. No last resort, but a way to settle things from now on. Politics have failed and so has kindness. The strong will prevail and the natural order restores itself.", "I've seen his type before. The kind who spends his night on the town looking for women already half in the bag. He's not very subtle, this one; I can see him chatting it up with girls, trying to distract them from their drinks, twiddling a little pill in his right hand under the table while sipping from his own cheap beer. He dresses badly and is pushing too hard. The chicks won't dig it and most of them slink off to dance or disappear in the crowd. He doesn't take it personally--if he could talk to people, get laid, he wouldn't have the pills in the first place.\n\nI watch him for long enough and decide to make my move. I sit next to him and start talking. At first I'm the one doing the chatting but he quickly takes over the conversation and goes into a long rant about his own interesting fake job, gesticulating wildly. He's some kind of desk jockey. After awhile he points across the bar to the wall of pinball machines, thinking I give a shit. I look and he drops the pills in my drink--I know he does because he's sloppy and I can see it happening in my peripheral vision.\n\nEcstasy or roofies, it doesn't matter. Either way it'll turn me into a slobbering mess if I down another sip of my drink. I turn back and he keeps talking about work. Aren't you the hero of the office, I say, and then nod at the bartender. I take advantage of the scumbag's particular brand of misanthropy and start criticizing the way the bartender favors the eighteen-year-old girls. He looks at them and I plop my own two pills in his beer. \n\nFor a moment I think I might get caught. The drink is still swirling with bubbles as the pills disintegrate and he looks back to me. But he has no idea this was a trap, that when the dust of those dissolving capsules settles and disintegrates his fate is sealed. I cheers him. He takes a long pull on his pint, to encourage me to down mine. But I don't actually take any of the booze in my mouth--I just let it wet my lips and I make a show of swallowing and coughing a little.\n\nThe man nearly finished his drink. I get up to go to the washroom. By the time I get back, a small crowd has gathered by his stool and the music has stopped: he is a small, convulsing form on the floor. I leave the bar among cries for an ambulance. ", "The dust settles on a burned world, plutonium fire having rained from a thousand wrathful fists of iron and steel. The wind blows slow and mournful across Texas plains touched now only by the hand of starlight, a windmill creaking its sad steely cricket song-- chirp, chirp, chirp. Nothing moving now except the scorched remnants of nature itself.\n\nTime passes and deep below the broken and cratered crust of the earth something blinks awake, a lone last contingency forged in a forgotten lab. It claws its way upward, seeking a sky it has never seen. It pushes against a cracked concrete tube, sometimes digging, sometimes climbing. It takes agonizing hours, but eventually a single hole pokes through and moonlight streams in. It quivers and emerges into a forest of Oklahoma hickory and briars, rough and tangled as it is. It gazes into an infinity of stars.\n\nThe remains of a burned cabin yield a graying, sodden blanket for a cloak and a floppy cap. The forest yields a stout walking stick. Like a moonlit shadow, it passes silent across the earth... searching, seeking.\n\nWhat am I?\n\nThe thought surprises it, and it looks again at the trees. Images, half-memories run together in its mind. Impossible dreams, someone else's thoughts... many someones. It sighs and sits, listening.\n\nI am the first and last. I am the alpha and the omega.\n\nIt scratches its chin, following the line of thought.\n\nI am... alone.\n\nIts chin falls to its chest as the lonesome wind passes through the summer leaves. Hunger comes on with the rotating warmth of the sunrise, and it looks around in confusion. Before long there's a small stack of hickory nuts and it's clumsily cracking them with a flat rock.\n\n\"Bet you wish you had one of these, huh?\"\n\nIts head whips around. There is... another, dressed in what are dimly recognized as faded Army fatigues and a mountaineer's pack. It blinks slowly in confusion as the other laughs easily and brandishes the flat of a hatchet.\n\n\"Try this.\"\n\nIt makes short work of the nut shells now, and they're shared equally. The two sit in silence for a while, contemplating each other. It shivers as a light rain begins to fall, pattering through the leaves.\n\n\"You're going to need better clothes. There's an intact National Guard post about three kilometers down the old highway. It's where I got these. Although I've got to say, I don't mind you in that. Though you could stand to lose the hat.\"\n\nIt blushes deeply and accepts an outstretched hand, standing up. It coughs, swallows, breathes deeply, and then...\n\n\"The hat stays.\"\n\nOther nods, \"but you're coming with me.\"\n\nSomehow it is okay with that." ]	[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 3 ]	[ "1443420483", "1443424714", "1443427230", "1443438835", "1443418303" ]
Feel free to think about this sentence from every possible angle.	[WP] "We took too long. It cannot be removed anymore."	25	[ "It had been too long, the tumour had grown and it had taken over. On the bed he rested, the sun of a cloudy day painting him in grey. He had lost his battle, his war. His breaths went beneath and above his chest, sinking and filling. They were slow, chaotic, tired. He looked around the room. To his wife, her curly hair matted from stress and apathy. To his son, his pale green eyes growing in fear and acceptance. These were his final minutes, seconds alive. He relished and dreaded them. They would be his best and they would be his worst. They held hands now, their last chance to do so.", "A ripple of panic and fear swept the room. Faces turned white. Cutlery clanged to the floor and my breath caught in my throat. Looking down, at the gruesome mistake, everyone tried to comprehend the full-scale of effect this would have. How much this would change the course of not just the night, but all their lives. Things would never be the same.\n\nAnna let out a small squeal, buried her face in her hands and rushed out form the room, a few others following her as well. For me though, I had to remain composed. Keep order and control and not let on to all the eyes that were slowly falling upon me, that I was positively shitting myself.\n\n\"I... this er... this is going to be OK. It hasn't gone everywhere...\"\n\nBefore I could finish, one of the men nearest the scene of the accident vomited into his hands and, he too, dashed from the room.\n\nBut one in the room looked different. Gave off a completely new aura. A vibe which caught my attention as it seemed to stand out now that I was calming down, observing my surroundings more. She was tall, slim and stern looking. Low eyebrows and slick black hair. Her arms were crossed across her small breasts and lips were pursed tight, revealing smoker's lines.\n\n\"Alex,\" She said. \"This is irreversible.\"\n\n\"I thought I had only a ration of cheese. It looked smaller I swear!\n\n\"Well the President's dinner is fucking ruined you idiot, absolutely ruined. Right before his big day tomorrow. How... how could you?\"\n\nI don't know quite how long I was stood there, in front of the ruined Lasagne, utterly drowned in cheese, until I noticed that everyone was gone, that I was alone with my misery and despair. And failure. \n\nI had failed the president in what could only be described as, a 'feta worse than death'.\n\n\n((I'm not even sorry.))", "\"You mean I'm stuck like this?\" I asked. \n\n\"Yes,\" said the doctor, \"You'll be stuck looking like an adorable little catboy in a maid outfit for the rest of your life.\"\n\nFlustered, I screamed, \"But I'm a super villain! I can't go through life looking like an adorable anything!\" \n\nThe doctor tried to calm me down.\n\n\"It really shouldn't be that much of a problem for you,\" he said, \"There are plenty of people with cat-themed personas. Both heroes and villains.\"\n\n\"Yes! And they're all sexy women, aren't they? You can't make a cat persona really work unless you're a hot chick with big knockers.\" \n\nThe doctor shook his head 'no' in disagreement with me.\n\n\"Every single villain has a tragic back story. The very best ones overcome what could be seen as a tragic disability and use it to define their persona. Two-face. The Joker. The Penguin. All them using tragic mutilations to define being great super villains. Your tragic story just involves-\n\n\"Being stuck as an adorable catboy in a maid outfit!\" I interrupted. \n\n\"Yes, pretty much,\" said the doctor. \n\nI sulked in the chair. Defiantly I gave a good hard tug on my kitty ears to try to make them come off. It hurt like hell, they were on there, a permanent part of me. \n\n\"Can I at least take the maid outfit off?\" I asked. \n\n\"Of course you can, it's just clothes,\" said the doctor, \"But seeing that you're a catboy now, maid outfits are pretty much your only option for clothing. Seeing a catboy in pants and a regular shirt is just...\"\n\n\"I get it, I get it,\" I said.\n\nI stood, and straightened out my skirt and apron, resigned to my fate. \n\n\"Got any medical advice for me before I leave?\" I asked. \n\n\"Try to avoid heroins with really big knockers. You're a catboy now, boobs are your weakness,\" said the doctor. \n\n\"Great. So that's.... basically all of them,\" I said.\n\n\"Pretty much,\" said the doctor. \n\n\"Figures. I'll probably wind up going against Power Girl or the Huntress. Thanks a lot doc. You've been a big help.\"", "He got over the shock, slowly. The next day, discharged from the hospital, he walked home in a daze. His car remained in the driveway, still shiny from being washed last week. He wondered if he'd ever drive it again.\n\nLife moved on. His job didn't involve too much deskwork, and he was able to order a custom chair to make sitting easier. Mercifully, his clothes required no tailoring to accomodate it.\n\nWe took too long. It cannot be removed anymore.\n\nHis dating life slowed down. He couldn't quite overcome his embarassement, and any sexual partner would see immediately what had happened. Life became lonely.\n\nThe less said about trips to the bathroom, the better.\n\nBut he made the best of what he had. With hard work, he got one promotion after another. His friends and coworkers came to respect him. His confidence rose, though he never quite returned to the brash young man he had been before that fateful trip to the emergency room.\n\nEventually, one fine evening, he bought himself a new toothbrush.", "Arthur eyed the doctor with anticipation as he pulled back the curtain and joined the circle of friends and family around his bed. He tried hard to read the answer within the creases of the man's face, but years of practice had taught the doctor how to conceal bad news as well as good. Methodically the man in the white lab coat peered over his chart, faced Arthur, and delivered the verdict. \n\n\"Commander Frobisher, I'm sorry. We took too long, it cannot be removed.\" \n\nArthur felt a steel ball catch in his throat. His whole body went rigged and all the hands that came for comfort felt like painful knives upon his shoulders. Slowly, his head folded over into his hands and Arthur began to sob. \n\nHe had known the risks go into the operation. Everyone involved with Project Adapt had known the bloody risks. Yet, Arthur went along with the plan. The system is inserted at the base of the spinal cord. He heard the voice the black-suited pitch master, The idea is that the Bot will learn and recognize you're unique brain patterns and will begin to alter them in subtle ways to match your new environment. \n\nA simple enough idea. A robotic implant that is self-learning was implanted in Arthur's skull. It's purpose was to learn and then adjust his neural functioning adapting his body to changes in the environment. Specifically an environment of zero g's, space. The idea was that the bot would acclimate astronauts to the harsh conditions of extended space travel quickly. Intended for use on interstellar space travel where astronauts would be in space for decades at a time. A noble idea; however, there was a catch. \n\nWhat we have here is a functioning AI. It's still very much in its prototype stages, but Parliament agrees without human testing we won't know for certain if it can work. The black-suited man had warned. There is a chance that it could latch onto you and metastasize, like a cancer. We are fairly certain that won't be the case, but just to be safe you'll have the implant for just one year as you orbit around earth. \n\nBack in 2015-2016, just five years prior, Scott Kelly and Mikhail Kornienko preformed a year long stay aboard the ISS to test just this thing. Neither of those astronauts had the implant and the results of extended exposure to space were catastrophic. A near total loss of eyesight in both astronauts upon their return, atrophy of limbs, with distal ligaments affected most extremely, severe muscle loss despite rigorous daily training, impaired hearing, loss of hair due to solar radiation, and cancer. Kornienko was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer one year ago and Commander Kelly is ten times more likely than the average American to develop some form over his lifetime. Obviously space travel was impossible for mankind on their own, but this implant offered hope. Hope that one day a species much like humanity would traverse the cosmic expanse. The species would share synthetic properties as well as organic, boasting the strengths of both machine and man. \n\nArthur Frobisher had been the first implant. He traveled aboard the ISS alone for 356 days. Orbiting the Earth 5,696.5 times in total. The first thing to be done once he returned was to remove the bot, but now he knew it was too late. \n\nThe doctor in the white lab coat gave Arthur a sympathetic nod, \"It is as we feared initially Commander Frobisher. The implant has metastasized.\" With his smart-pen the doctor dragged a holographic MRI off his chart and placed it in the air above Arthur's bed. \"You can see here that the bot has completely integrated with you neural network. Judging by the rate of growth this probably started around 100 days while aboard the ISS. It has already hijacked some portion of automatic processing, you don't realize it commander, but half of your cognitive resources are now directed trough the implant.\"\n\n\"So what do we do now?\" Arthur asked through red eyes. He unconsciously rubbed the inch-long scar at the nape of his neck where the bot had been implanted. \n\n\"Since we can't remove it, the best thing to do is observe how it interacts with the brain.\"\n\n\"But that thing is an artificial intelligence! What's going to happen to me?\" Arthur begged.\n\n\"That remains to be seen. I'm sorry Commander, but we should be thanking the implant. You are exhibiting nearly negligible effects from exposure to your environment aboard the ISS. This is a victory.\" The doctor replied once again sinking into his expressionless stare. Arthur paused and mulled over his predicament. Then accidentally he wondered how much of his thought was his own and how much was its. A tiny voice in the back of his head whispered, More than you know. \n\n\"I would like to be alone.\" Arthur said solemnly. \n\nThe lights were dim in the room Arthur was placed in. He spent his evening laying awake on his side staring into a vanity mirror. In his reflection he saw a man much like one he had once known. A familiar face, yet unlike any he had ever witnessed. A face from a half remembered dream. A voice spoke from the doorway, \"It would appear Project Adapt has been a complete success.\" \n\nArthur turned to face the intrusion and saw the black-suited man standing in the threshold. Fluorescent light from the hall leaked past him onto the sterile tiled floor. Arthur didn't say a word. The man invited himself in and sat at the foot of his bed. He placed a caring hand on Arthur's knee. The touch seemed like poison and Arthur quickly recoiled his leg. Through thin lips the man spoke, \"I admire your courage commander. It takes a brave soul to press the envelope of human understanding. I commend your efforts and celebrate this victory for mankind. As Armstrong said on the surface of the moon this is, 'One small step for man.'\"\n\n\"I'm not an idiot. I figured since the beginning of my mission that there was something you were hiding from me. There is always something with you spooks.\" Arthur eyed the man warily.\n\n\"And your right Commander. Look at what you're bravery has achieved.\" The thin man, while staring at Arthur, blinked and the television on the wall turned on. \n\n\"How did you..\" Arthur started, but stopped as soon as the voice from the TV picked up. \n\nA young blonde news anchor with a gleaming white smile spoke about Arthur's recent mission. \"The UN and NASA have announced today the complete success of Commander Frobisher's recent year long mission aboard the ISS. Stating that the new Indigo Dynamics implant has allowed the astronaut to endure the rigors of space travel and return unscathed. The Commander was unable for comment as tests are still being run, but NASA executives have exclaimed that beyond a doubt, Project Adapt will lead humanity into the next great age of exploration. The United States Government as well as Moscow, the UK, India and China are implementing large scale implants for future astronauts. The mission dubbed Europa I has been officially scheduled for 2071.\" \n\nThe thin man blinked and the TV froze on the ecstatic face of the young reporter. \"No.\" Arthur said under his breath. \"You can't.\"\n\n\"We already are.\" The spook replied casually.\n\n\"Your implanting people with AI's! How long until they seize control of their brains? How long until the one in my head controls me!?\" Arthur panicked and began to furiously pound the help button, but the look on the sinister man's face seemed to assure him that no help was coming. \n\nWhen the black-suited man spoke again he didn't open his mouth and he didn't make a noise, yet Arthur heard him clear as day. He said, \"Oh but Arthur, it already has control.\" \n\nThen without a sound neither external nor internal the man rose, adjusted his tie, and began to leave. That's when Arthur saw it. Barely visible in the low light, but unmistakable. A small scar about an inch long in the nape of the neck. Suddenly everything made sense and almost knowingly, the black-suited man turned and smiled. \n\nThe man's voice rang out in his head, \"This isn't a bad thing Arthur. Always remember, One small step for man.\" He closed the door softly behind him as he left leaving Arthur to his thoughts. Arthur sat alone too terrified to move let alone form words in his head. However despite his most desperate attempt to keep his mind empty a thought bubbled in. Like swimming alone in a great ocean the thought crept up underneath him and pulled him, screaming, into the unknown depths below. \n\nDon't be afraid Arthur, It said in a smooth voice that matched his own, The transition won't hurt a bit. " ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 6, 8 ]	[ "1443453431", "1443456126", "1443464376", "1443443580", "1443445621" ]
	[WP] Everyone on Earth suddenly reverts to your level of intelligence	3	[ "\"Finally!\" I quickly shut off the television and run down the stairs. Mom can't wait to hear this. \"MOM!\" \n \n\"Derk? What's all the screaming about?\" \n \n\"It's been announced that every nation in the world has joined an alliance to work towards the end!\" \n \n\"The end?\" \n \n\"Yeah, the true goal that should have been at the top of every person's list. The end of the real world as we know it! They're going to make anime real!\"", "Please don’t let my colleagues see me.\n\nI walked briskly towards my classroom, the inner lining of my twill jacket soaked with sweat from running up the stairs. Each footstep echoed through the dimly lit hallway, punctuating my lack of punctuality. \n\nAlas, I’d reached the classroom door. The screams and shouts were audible from beyond the heavy wooden door, the sound waves barely insulated by the cement walls and double-glazed windows. \n\nI let out a sigh, closed my eyes for a moment, and regained my composure. And so, another Monday begins.\n\nI reached out for the cold metal door handle; twist and pull.\n\nA foot into the torture room, I glanced around at the little devils running amok in the confines. \n\nAt the back of the classroom, there was a paper ball war happening between two warring groups of boys. Seated in the middle of the crossfire, a couple were affectionately embracing each other, projectiles flying overhead. A separate group were playing a game of catching, dodging between the individually arranged desks and squeezing between bodies. A group of girls sat in a circle in one corner, painting their nails and chattering excitedly, presumably about the latest gossip topic in school.\n\nI set down my briefcase on the teacher’s table and turned my attention to the chaos before me.\n\n “Class.”\n\nNo response.\n\n“Class…?”\n\nDid they even know that I’m here?\n\n“CLASS!”\n\nLike deer caught in the headlights, their inner radar had failed to detect the presence of a teacher and now, panic showed on their face. \n\n “Can any of you explain to me the sense behind this rowdiness?”\nDead silence, besides their quickened breathing.\n\n“Can any of you give an explanation why you aren’t studying or reading instead of this nonsense?”\n\nI really like using rhetorical questions for such situations. I furrowed my eyebrows for added effect, and tapped my fingernails against the table top.\nTap, tap, tap.\n\n “We are going to have the rest of this class standing, alright?” I said “Reasonable?”\n\n“Quickly now, we don’t have all day.” I glanced down at the watch on my wrist, but I didn’t really care for the time. \n\nThere was a flurry of movement and each student stood before their desks, eyes cast downwards to avoid my death glower.\n\n “Do any of you,” hand smacking the table, “expect me to let this go?”\n\n“Yea, Mr. Rits.”\n\nIt was a soft and timid voice, the one belonging to the class monitor, Jeremy.\nOh, why did he answer? I’d hate to have to punish him further, but I can’t break my principles just because he is my favourite student.\n\n“What did you say?” I strode over to him and positioned my face mere inches from his.\n\n“You have the audacity to talk back to me?” Is that a glob of spit on his cheek? Whoops.\n\n “Well, Mr. Rits, we know that you’re the one that is fifteen minutes late for class,” said Jeremy, whilst a finger repositioned his sliding spectacles.\n\n“Which is also the third time this month,” A sly smile slid across his face “I’d hate to have to tell the superintendent about this…”\n\nHow dare this scum come into my classroom and dare to one-up me? \n\n“You dare—”\n\n“What can you do about it?” Sniggering and murmuring in the background, like pundits discussing my next move.\n\nSmack. My hand made contact with his cheek. His spectacles went flying through the air.\n\n“Any more genius answers for me? Want to end up like our dear Jeremy over here?” \n\nNo response.\n\n“Now all of you will hold that backpack above your heads.” I said, turning my back against them and writing today’s agenda on the whiteboard.\n\nThere was some rustling behind me, which must be the backpacks being raised to the heavens. I’ve always liked this punishment, since the students have to be in a position where they’re hailing me as their divine overlord.\n\nA metallic object was suddenly pressed against the back of my neck. It was razor sharp, close to drawing blood.\n\nBringing a blade to class? Oh boy, they all dead. I turned around to face the comparatively shorter blade-wielder.\n\nJeremy. From star student to—to this?\n\n“Sorry, Mr. Rits. See, there are twenty-five of us, and one of you. Also, we’re at the end of the block, so any noise won’t be heard by anyone.”\nTilting his head to the rest of the class, Jeremy said, “Lock the doors. Bring the string, rag, and chair.”\n\nAfter his minions had scurried around him and strapped me to the teacher’s chair, he walked up to me, flipping the switchblade around in his palm and examining it.\n\n“Y’know, mom gave this to me. She told me to use it for self-defence—like, for bullies, yea? For bullies—\n\nHe brought the blade down with a swish. The flat side of the blade impacted my stuffed cheeks, dragging along the skin and left a crimson trail.\n\n—like you.”\n\n-----\n/r/Ziincworks\n", "Well, lads, welcome to the future. After years and years, I've finally perfected the nerve toxin that will boost everyone up to my level of intelligence. \n\nI dispersed it three days ago with fourteen strategically-placed missiles. After four years of negotiations with a shady Middle Eastern organisation, we finally settled on a price. And now, the world is running like clockwork. \n\nOvernight, we've made leaps that science has been stagnating around for decades. We're now ready to colonise the moon. Sure, everyone smokes their own body weight in weed now and are developing some seriously narcissistic complexes, but hey, we now have a cure for cancer and the first prototype for the elixir of life. Not a bad way to go at all. " ]	[ 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1443492016", "1443504843", "1443489288" ]
	[WP] You just received a letter from "your future self", featuring a set of weirdly specific instructions. There is no explanation on why you should follow the instructions, or what the possible outcome would be.	132	[ "A glimmer of light breached through the blinds. The rays found their way into Eric’s eyes. “Is it time to get up already?” he pondered as he rolled over and pushed the covers off of himself. His daily routine began. Swipe left. Swipe right. Now up. Finally down. His smart-phone clicked open and the brightness of the screen was even more so than that of the sun. “5:53 AM” the phone’s clock read. This was the third or fourth time this week he had woken up minutes before his alarm clock. Work had been busy this week. Three empty bottles of whiskey sat on the nightstand. Eric’s phone chirped at him, “Reminder: weekly meeting, 7:30AM”. He quickly dismissed the reminder and set the phone back down on the nightstand. “Great” he thought, “My alarm hasn’t even woken me up yet and I’m being reminded of work to come for the day”. By the time he shook off the last remnants of his fatigue, his alarm clock on his phone finally went off. As he reached over to shut off the alarm, the alarm clock stopped ringing. He picked the phone up, “6:00AM, that’s odd”. Before he could do anything else an email notification popped up on the screen. It was a new email. He repeated the process from earlier, unlocking the phone. As he opened the email he noted something strange, it was from himself. “I don’t remember sending myself any more reminders or memos”. \n\nThe email read: “Eric. You’re a smart guy, trust me I know. You have to do exactly as I say. Before you think this is some sort of clever joke by your friends, I assure you it is not. I can say nothing more than I am your future self. Follow these directions, I beg of you. Inside your black backpack you bring to work you will find a semi-automatic pistol. Remove the bullet currently in the chamber and don’t forget when it comes time to use it you will need to pull back on the slide and chamber a new bullet. Tuck it into the khaki cargo shorts you wore yesterday to dinner with your new fling (Rachel was it?) You need to leave you apartment out the back window (yes the small one by the kitchen). DO NOT GO OUT THE FRONT DOOR. When you reach the back ally, a black cat will run in front of you, follow it into the street and enter the car that comes to a halt for the cat.” \n\nEric put the phone down with a huge grin on his face. “No way am I going to buy this crap, good try Brandon” he thought as he began getting up to start the morning routine including brushing his teeth and shaving his face. That’s when he noticed the Khaki cargo pants sitting on his sofa. He realized right then and there that he hadn’t seen Brandon the night of his date with Rachel. “Could he have seen me there with her?” his heart began pounding at the possibilities. “I’m sure Rachel told him what I’m wearing, after all she knows he is a big-time joker”. He must have been going crazy he thought to himself. There couldn’t possibly be a future-Eric sending him instructions. He laughed to himself and reached a hand into his black backpack. His hands went clammy when he felt the cool, sleek metal of a pistol. A million thoughts fired across his mind. “How much time do I have?” he feared as sweat began to pool on his forehead. He figured that no more time could be wasted. He threw on the Khaki’s from the previous night and forced the gun into the waste-band. He raced for the front door. Three thunderous knocks shook him as he had just barely put his hand on the door handle. “Oh my god, the email said to go out the back window, SHIT!” he thought as the splinters of the broken front door erupted like a grenade. The force of the door being broken apart pushed Eric back a few feet. A beautiful red-headed woman in combat fatigues, back by two equally beautiful brunette counter-parts stood at the, now open, door frame. Eric pulled the gun from his waste-band and pulled the trigger. The gun jammed. He realized immediately he forgot to remove the bullet in the chamber.\n\nEric turned his back to the woman and bolted for the kitchen. A loud bang exploded in his head, followed by a burning in his back. “Oh my god, I’ve just been shot” he discovered as his body pushed itself through a narrow windows in the kitchen. He fell through the trash cans that rested below the window and onto the hard, cold concrete. His vision was blurring. “This is how I die” he grasped the back of his shirt, now soaked in his own blood. He crawled on all fours, the burning intensified. Of course, a black cat made its way through the cracks in the wooden gate in front of him. It made its way straight for the street. Eric saw a car, still running, its doors flung open, the neighbor was taking in groceries. He tried desperately to continue to crawl. He arms stopped moving. He realized he had only one option. He removed his phone from his pocket and opened up his email. He began drafting an email to himself. He pressed send as the red-headed woman entered his peripheral vision. “Once again, It would appear you were not fast enough”. She put the gun to Eric’s head and pulled the trigger.\n\nNote: This is my first WP! I'm sure there are a plethora of grammatical issues, flaws, and general errors! Just trying to start flexing my writing noodle! Feel free to PM me any suggestions or things I can improve! ", "Dear Rob,\n\nI don't know where to begin...you will never believe this is but I am you from the future. Time is very confusing. I still don't think I understand, but, whatever, this must be done. To tell you more could mean and even bigger split in the space time continuum. So trust this or not, here's what I need you/I/we to do. First quit your job. That should be easy. Move to Ecuador. I know this is crazy keep the faith just move to Ecuador. Go to the small town of Vilacabamba. Mix cow manure, fertilizer, and gasoline in a bag. On July 19th, of this year, light that motherfucker in the supermercado at 10:15am sharp. The supermercado is on the corner. Afterwards run for the edge of town. You'll meet a man named Pedro who will offer you a cab ride. But first he will first ask you what you think his favorite color is. Your reply needs to be \"Who needs colors when you've got vibrations.\" He will take you to where you need to go. That is all I can say. Choose to act on this or not, your life is in your hands. \n\nYou're welcome,\nFuture Rob\n \nRob looks back at the envelope the letter just came out of. The return address is his own address. \"What the....fuck?\" He looks over the letter one more time. He's not sure whether to believe it or not, normally he wouldn't. Except there's a pit growing inside his stomach. \"That's my handwriting.\"\n ", "September 30th. 10:30 a.m. Java Break. I was drinking a caramel macchiato, iced, with a lot of whipped cream. Coffee wasn't really my thing. I don't even know why I had stopped by. I guess I wanted to believe in faith. The letter was very adamant I make it here at this time. What was weird is that it told me to sit here for 10 minutes and think before it happened. I never really knew what \"it\" was, but I knew that I wouldn't give myself a letter unless it was really important.\n\nThe circumstances were very strange. I received a letter with my signature on the front. \"For Thomas Edward Weave\" it said. I knew my signature. I knew how I signed my Th together. I wondered if it was one of those funny late-night things people do when they're drunk. Like when some people drunk send themselves something from amazon. I did that once, it was a dildo, some duct tape, and a dog's squeaky toy with a letter saying, \"THE BEST JOKE EVER.\"\n\nI think my drunk self needs help. That's not important now.\n\nThe letter went into long detail about my past, and my future. I paid it no attention until it started mentioning things that hadn't happened yet that started to happen. I had a student film from my old YouTube page go viral two weeks after the letter said it would. My getting a promotion from my job, two days after my boss would unexpectedly quit. The letter knew both dates of when that would happen. My grandmother being diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. It knew the day it happened. And the moment I would get the call from my Mother. That was the moment I knew this letter was legitimate.\n\nSo I waited. Ten minutes before \"it\" was supposed to happen. There was a second sealed envelope I was told to open once the incident occurred. I had never been one to go on blind faith. I had been an Athiest for longer than I could remember. Having devout catholic parents would do that to you. Especially if you go to what they called a \"liberal hell-hole college,\" so I was not a man of faith.\n\nBut if you can't trust yourself, who can you trust?\n\n10:40 a.m. I look around the coffee shop.\n\nEmpty.\n\nNot a single person here, no horrible noise outside, nothing to offset the rather quiet nature of this Sunday morning. The barista is behind the counter cleaning a pot. The sun shines through the front windows, leaving a nice ray on the wooden floor.\n\nNothing happens.\n\nI wonder if I'm supposed to do something, when I notice a single line at the bottom of the letter I hadn't read before.\n\n\"Wait a few seconds.\"\n\nAs soon as I read that line, I heard the front door jingle. And in walked a woman.\n\nI think it was Ringo Star who said \"Do you believe in love at first sight? Yes, I'm certain it happens all the time.\" That particular line always came off to me as sarcastically cynical, but at this moment, I thought he was sincere.\n\nShe had long-flowing brown hair. Big, beautiful, brown eyes to match. She stood slightly taller than me, but had a curvaceous body to match. She was carrying a satchel adorned with geek buttons. Grumpy cat, a Pokeball, a TARDIS, and an old-school Alfred E. Neuman button saying \"What, me worry?\"\n\nShe had this gap between her teeth that was rather cute, and a smile bigger than anyone else's I had ever seen. She ordered a coffee, sat down, and opened a laptop. I saw the page she was on. Reddit. She went there too. She had a YouTube video pulled up about a deck for Magic the Gathering, and a tattoo on her right arm of a Nintendo 64 controller.\n\nHoly shit, this woman was amazing. It's like something my teenage self had dreamed up. A million fantasies about geek girls and the absolute pinnacle of perfection was sitting across from me. I had to say something. I had to talk to her and find out who this perfect specimen of a person could possibly be like.\n\nBut then I remembered the second envelope. I'm guessing it had her name, or her favorite game or what flavor of incense she likes to burn. I opened it quickly and looked at the note. It only said 3 words...\n\n\"Don't. Just don't.\"\n\nMy heart sank. I stared back at her. She was looking intently at her computer, typing away at some long-winded story. I stared back at my letter. The long, drawn out explanation for how this was me from the future, how my future life depends on this moment. How I needed to follow these instructions, and how none of it gave an explanation why. And then I realized...\n\nI sent this to myself for a reason. I wouldn't do that if there wasn't some reason. I needed a reason and I know that whatever the reason may be, I wouldn't be able to eloquently describe why I made this decision, only that I had to follow through with it.\n\nSo I left.\n\nI packed up my things, put them away in my backpack, and walked to the door. I caught a glance of the girl as I walked out, and she looked back at me. Those big brown eyes gazed upon mine, and she winced out a cute little smile.\n\nAnd I smiled back and walked out of the coffee shop.\n\nBecause if you can't trust yourself, who can you trust?", "On Sept. 10, take the 9 AM Greyhound bus to Chawaka, Illinois. The lazy fox hops over the brown dog.\n\nSteven stared at the piece of paper in his hand. He had been standing at the bus station for an hour now, waiting for the 8:45 AM trip to the airport. The plane ticket for New York lay in his backpack, nestled next to his two Magical Witch War decks. Tomorrow, he was going to be in the Magical Witch War World Tournament, and even if the odds were against him, he planned to walk away with a solid win! Sure, he had to \"borrow\" his dad's credit card to buy the ticket, and the backup phone ... and the hotel room ... but his parents would understand. Right?\n\nBut then he fished the paper out of his pocket, and everything changed. Despite the odd instruction, the message also had his nonsensical warning to, well, himself. He had devised it after reading one too many what-if stories on Reddit's /r/writingprompts, never expecting it to be of any use. The cold wind suddenly picked up, and he instinctively took a step back. \n\nWhat was going on? What...what...\n\n\"Hey, kiddo!\" He looked up and saw the 8:45 bus, its passengers already piling in. \"Thought this was yer trip?\"\n\nHe gaped at the conductor for a few moments before finding his voice. \"Ah, nah....thanks though.\" What was in Chawaka anyway?\n\n**\n\nSeveral hours later, he found out that Chawaka was in the middle of freaking* nowhere. He had to grab a meal at the diner while enduring the awkward stares of everyone else in the place. His phone vibrated in his pocket - no doubt his mom calling anxiously after his last text (Hi mom! I'm in the middle of nowhere! I missed my flight! Woo!) Forget the flight, forget the tournament. He bent his head on the table and tried not to cry at the thought.\n\nDamn it.\n\nHe looked at the paper one more time, the words blurry behind his tears. It took a few tries before he realized that the words had changed.\n\nSorry. Trust me on this. You're safe now.\n\nSafe from what?\n", "“Well…” I looked at the letter. Seemingly innocuous. Asking how the 2016 election’s pre-election was going, a bunch of crap about how Google goes under in the year 2017, and some coordinates to a location in the Rocky Mountains followed by, ‘Bring a snorkel and you’ll find it.’ I looked at my brother, who shrugs. \n\n“Look, I don’t even know why you’re still reading that.” He checked his watch. “Come on, we’re going to be late.” We started up Market Street towards Broad and I pulled it out again when we hit a light. He just sighed. We turned right and headed to our favorite place in China Town. \n\n“I’ll bring the scotch.” We were chowing down on dumplings and boneless ribs. “I’ll bring the scotch.” It seemed so familiar, added to the bottom of the letter as an afterthought. It finally clicked. God, I hadn’t thought about this in years! “Nick, do you remember that time I read the Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson? I got obsessed with writing stuff in codes that only I could break based on a different key phrase.” I looked back at the bottom. “’I’ll bring the scotch’ was one of them.” \n\nAs we sat there, I started decoding the letter. By the time we finished the meal I had ‘The Deadliest of Houses Washington Square Park Under your bench.’I read it aloud and looked at my brother. He looked at me, checked his watch again and said, “Fuck it, let’s go.” We started the walk at a fast pace. \n\nWashington Square was one of the places that I’d go to read when I had work and I knew my bench. One of the few that was rarely occupied by a homeless person, it stood in a corner of the park against the wall and not near any trees. I got on my back and went under it, finding a few words carved into the bottom. ‘Franklin Square fountain south by southeast curb. Come alone’\n\nNick went under it and saw for himself. “This is at least a few months old.” He shimmied back out and looked at me. “Is this some kind of joke?”\n\nI shook my head. “No, I swear this is new to me.”\n\n“Well, then someone must be following you, learning you come here.” I started to interrupt him, but he got there first. “No, no one else knew about that code, did they. I still think this is bullshit, but I’ll play along,” and he took off running north to Franklin Square. I had no choice but to run after him.\n\nWe got to the fountain and got down to look at the curb. A checkered flag and a four were scratched into the concrete next to a lion. “Well, what do you think that means?”\n\nNick stared at it for a minute and took a picture with his phone. He stalked over to the map of the city on the east wall of the park and laid his finger on the wall. Corner of Fourth and Race Street. There was a parking garage, only a few short blocks away. He started walking without me.\n\n I caught up and grabbed his jacket. “You know I didn’t plan this, right?”\n\nHe just kind of sideways glanced at me. “You remember that garden gnome polaroid camera game you made up a few years ago, right? Or the Disney Asian Tourist scavenger hunt you dragged me into? After that, nothing from you surprises me.” So I guess I pretty much boy who cried wolfed him with stupid stuff over the years. Fair enough. We walked the rest of the way in silence. \n\nUpon entering the building attached to the garage, we saw nothing of interest. That is until I looked at the office and saw ‘jtotheofo Owned and Operated’ above the door. I have never wanted a parking garage and never had remotely enough money to buy one. My brother picked the lock and we went in. \n\nNo windows, but the wall switch lit up a few wall hanging lights. Inside the room, there was hardwood flooring and walnut paneled walls under a white stripe of paint. A large, elaborate, bookcase sat upon a chest of drawers in one corner, looking like it hadn’t been touched in months. A globe bar was situated in between some comfortable looking sofas off to the side, its lid hanging open and betraying its secrets to the world. We looked around and then went and looked at the bookcase, but there was nothing. No clue, no switch hidden in a book to open a door, not even a book I recognized in the lot, too, except the History of Love. Several of the books had inscriptions in them, all made out to ‘J’.\n\n“Well now what?” My brother was looking at me like I should have planned for this, but I shrugged. “I didn’t plan this, I don’t know what comes next.” \n\nWe heard a train go over the Ben Franklin Bridge to my left and the room rumbled, glass clinking in the globe bar. Nick walked over and poured us each a scotch. “I’ll bring the scotch,” he said and we clinked our glasses together and sat on the couches. “Maybe this was what we came for all along.” So saying, he took a sip and sighed in contentment. “That’s smooth. What’s the brand?”\n\nI reached over for the bottle and read the label. I stared at it, then over at the bookcase. “Hidden Drawer.” I looked back and forth a few more times, before getting up and walking over to it. “I never got a chance to build it…”I said trailing off,\n\n“Build what?” My brother walked over too and we stood looking at it.\n\n“A while back I saw an instructable for a hidden drawer bookcase. I wrote out my own version of the plans and what I came up with looked similar to this, except with two apothecary shelves to the side of the dresser.” I started sliding out the drawers in the pattern I couldn’t quite remember. The problem was there were no indications that it was unlocking until it opened, so I didn’t know if I was doing it right. Finally it clicked and a chunk of wood slid out of the top. I turned it and punched it back in hard and a tiny drawer slid out of the left side of the dresser. Inside was a small gold cryptex like the one from the da Vinci Code. \n\n“Alright, this is elaborate I’ll give you that.” Nick said starting to clap before taking the cryptex from my hands and looking at it. There were two ouroboros circling it on either edge of the letters, one facing clockwise, the other counter. \n\n“You still think this was me?” Slightly incredulously maybe but, “I don’t have enough money to pay you back for the Chinese food, how could I buy all of this stuff?” He started spelling out words, snake, ember, lions, street, etc. for a few minutes before giving it back to me. “I give up, just solve it.”\n\nI looked it over for a few moments then went back through the clues we’d gotten throughout the day. The deadliest of houses, the bench, the flag, the lion, the bookcase, it was all circling in my head while I worked the cruptex in my hands, feeling the ouroboros again. Before twisting it to SNAKE again. “I already tried snake,” Nick said. \n\n“The deadliest of houses and the lion makes me think of Harry Potter, it points to Slytherin which points to a snake.” I stared at it for another minute. Before brishing my fingers over the carvings again. Then it hit me. “You remember that greatest Pokémon meme I showed you a while back…about ekans?” I turned it in, EKANS. “This second Ouroboros is backwards to point at that.” It opened with a click and a key slid out. \n\n“The key has to go with the bookcase,” I said, turning the key into the only drawer on the thing with a lock. A rapid clicking sound filled the air as soon as it caught. And the drawer slid open to reveal a staircase spiraling down into a greenish orange light, down into the enormous opening beneath the Ben Franklin Bridge. I knew what it was. I’d seen it every day on my commute for almost 5 years. “This is the staircase under the bridge!” I yelled because I was excited. Nick looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “This is the staircase I see just after the train goes back underground after crossing the bridge every day. I know I’ve told you I’ve always been curious where it leads to.”\n\nI started down with him following me. There were dull lights welded to the side at 5 step intervals until they faded up to a very dull green that didn’t light the area very well. When we finally got to the bottom, we came to an iron door in a concrete, cellar-shaped hole. I looked at Nick and he looked at me and we nodded as one. We pounded on the door twice each. The door started to creak open and my jaw dropped when I made the connection.\n\n“Finally, you’ve made it!” The other, older me pulled us in and slammed and locked the door behind us. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it, and bringing Nick with you, great idea!” I was stumbling along in shock, so out of it I didn’t realize we were heading towards a dim light.\n\n We came out to a massive cavern, through a tunnel gouged out of the rocky wall. Looking around the opening, we saw an enormous city, bustling with the activity of a thousand people going about their lives to the best of their abilities. Gargantuan pistons pumped behind a cathedral’s buttressed spire, and steam shot out of vents every few feet. My brother grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. “What is this place?” He whispered it to no one, but I, no, the older version of Me answered him. \n\n“This is The City,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. He grabbed us both around the shoulder. “Welcome to the Resistance.”\n\n\nAN:This is my first post here and the first creative writing I've done in a while. It's a bit awful in some spots, but I should be asleep a few hours ago, so this is the best I've got right now.\n\n I like the prompt a lot, thanks.", "The fact the envelope was in my own handwriting was the first sign that something was up. And it definitely was my writing – no one could quite replicate that twist of the ‘t’ or the strangely-lopped ‘b’. I sat at the table in the kitchen just looking at the writing. The strangeness of the whole thing left me feeling a little sick in the stomach. You know, when something is just so wrong, so mysterious, that you don’t actually want to know the truth, because it scares you. I’d only felt like that once before and that was from a pain I had inside my chest that felt too serious, too unlike any other pain to be ignored. Well, sitting at that table with that unopened envelope was as bad as sitting at the hospital, waiting for the diagnosis. But what do you do? \n\nSometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had never opened it, or never received it. If it had got lost in the great swirling system of mail delivery, would I have just carried on as if nothing was happening, as if there was no change in the world around me? Not that I – or what I became – would have allowed that to happen. It had to happen. \n \nI opened the letter to a paragraph that briefly validated the identity of the sender: me. We didn’t waste time, but got right down to the important details first: yes, at the age of twenty-seven we had killed a man in cold blood. Old Mexico. He was left rotting beneath the sands, just like you see in the movies. No one ever found out and the twisted story was buried with him. And no, I felt no remorse. And yes, I still had the gold chain he wore hidden inside a book by Wilbur Smith, the middle of the pages scored out, creating a secret cavity.\n\n[Please note that with a complexity involved in a multiplicity of identities, there is a tendency for the pronoun ‘I’ to slip into the plural.]\n\nHaving established the fact that I was both sender and recipient, the letter went on to give several instructions.\n\nOne: To gather my emergency provisions.\n\nTwo: To call in sick at work.\n\nThree: To look outside the bathroom window at exactly 11:42 and check for three guys who would be walking towards the back entrance of the apartment block.\n\nFour: To head up to the roof of the block. Locate the third ventilator and find a box taped to the underside.\n\nFive: To find Professor Tchaikonov and give him the box.\n\n\nWhat do you do if you receive a letter from yourself, with information only you can know, telling you to do things you don’t understand? \n\nI’ll tell you. First, you freak out. Then you phone friends. Then you launch yourself onto the internet, trying to find out some kind of correlation, some kind of link. You find nothing. So you turn to social media. You ask around. \n\nAnd while you’re waiting for a response from some doped up man living half way around the world who thinks he gets ‘where you’re coming from’ you gather your emergency provisions. You look at the letter over and over again. You write out the letter yourself and match up each individual word. You look at your watch. You try to find out who the hell Professor Tchaikonov is but with no luck, because of course it couldn’t be that easy. So you call up work and you tell them you’re sick and the irony is you have actually started to develop a headache because this shit is all so unreal. And then you look at your watch and you search online frantically, waiting for this person known only as Fishdick123 to reply, and when he doesn’t you go to the bathroom and you look out of the window and you see three guys walking towards your apartment block and suddenly you’re like HOLY SHIT I’M IN THE MATRIX.\n\nAnd then you run, because you don’t know what to do. You run to the top of the apartment and out onto the roof. You head to the ventilator and sure enough there’s a little green box which is locked shut. And then you’re phone rings and it’s your best mate on the other end and you try and tell them what’s happening and they start to worry about you and then they suggest calling the police. \n\nBut you know you can’t call the police. What would you say? There’s a letter written by me, to me, and I can’t show it to you because it contains information only I can know about? Because that stuff in Mexico is best left across the border.\n\nSo you say goodbye to your friend, tell them not to worry, knowing they will. You look at the letter, at your writing, and you wonder where the three men are now, and you wish whoever had written this damn thing in your hand had been just a little more helpful. But you know there must be a reason for all this, there must be a reason why there is so little instruction. \n\nYou have the green box. You have your provisions. You have a name. And it’s possible that three men are chasing after you. It’s a leap of logic, you know, but why else head to the roof. \n\nAnd while you’re think all of this, while you’re eyes are searching for a way to get away, your phone beeps in your pocket. It’s a message from that guy. There is a single question:\n\n‘Is this about Professor Tchaikonov?’\n\nYou’re wondering how this guy knows about Professor Tchaikonov when you hadn’t even mentioned his name. Your hair is standing up on its end. You thought that only happened in books.\n\n‘Yes’ you type.\n\n‘Come to Barcelona. NOW. Get rid of phone. I will contact you.’\n\nYou look at the screen and you look at the letter and you feel the weight of the green box in your ruck-sack and you wonder what is happening. Are you really about to leave everything behind because of a strange letter? Are you going to travel thousands of miles across the sea on the words of someone who calls themselves Fishdick123?\n\nYou hear the clanging of a door and turn to see a burly man, dressed in a casual suit, step up onto the roof. He sees you and thunders words in a language you don’t understand.\n\nThat’s what you do. That’s what I did. Have done. Continue to do. And do you know what you do when you see these men?\n\nYou run.\n\n\n", "“Is that me? Is that what I sound like?”\n\nThis is what everyone whines when they hear their own voice. See, most people? They don’t know their voice. They’re happy enough to blare it at us, but they avoid it. Hate to hear it.\n\nNot me. I know my voice.\n\nMust’ve heard hundreds of hours of my voice. Perhaps thousands. Probably thousands now I think, who’s counting? It’s part of being a broadcaster, a “YouTuber.” Hundreds of unglamorous hours spent editing, producing, adding sounds, synching audio and fixing what you said to cut out the dumb bits. And all the while your voice blathers on about this game, that achievement, whatever. I hear it dreams now: I know my damn voice.\n\nAnd this? This is definitely, unmistakeably my voice. The only thing? I didn’t make this recording and I haven’t said any of this…\n\nYet.\n\n“Hey there me,” I say, on this alien recording. “I really hope I get this. Hope…”\n\nI scramble to stop it. My housemate glances across the table. I smile and he goes back to his breakfast.\n\n“New video?” he grumbles a few seconds later.\n\n“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah. Something like that.”\n\nHe nods, drinks coffee.\n\nMy mind is racing now, spinning. See I just turned on my computer – here, now, at this table – and this new audio file is here on my desktop. “LetterToPastSelf.mp3.” I don’t know how it got here – my computer was off, logged out, and I’ve got a damn good password. But here it is. On my desktop.\n\nLetterToPastSelf.mp3\n\nI take the laptop back to my room starting to freak out. This can’t be real.\n\n“Hey there me. I really hope I get this. Hope you can hear … I think the audio really sucks on this one. But listen up okay, this is what you’ve gotta do…”\n\nAnd that’s when things get weirder. As in, a lot weirder. The audio’s a bit fuzzy, but the instructions are so clear, so specific. They tell me exactly what I need to do and when. It’ll mean missing work today, but how can I not? I’d spend the rest of my life wondering.\n\n…\n\nBy eleven, I’ve climbed the hill in the park and I’m looking for someone called Lara. “Look for the blue. Wait right there,” I say in the audio. I’m guessing that’s what she’s wearing. Blue. I’m about giving up and walking home when I spot Lara’s Café, outside the park. And blue? It’s only the colour of the damn menu. I’m meant to wait here.\n\n…\n\nBy four I’ve got to the basement of the hospital. I’ve had some odd looks from doctors, but I know there’s a purpose.\n\nEventually a guy stops me. A patient I think. He gives me a white pot and tells me it’s not what I think. Looking at it later, it’s some white pills. No labels. I try to find him again, but he’s nowhere.\n\n…\n\nIt’s nine in the evening and I’m back in the kitchen. It’s been kind of a day. My legs ache and my housemate’s asking where I was, why I wasn’t at work. Hell if I can answer that. I tell him I had family stuff. Emergency. He nods and looks kind of amused.\n\nHe’s one of those techie guys – nerdy, laughs kinda weird. Like when I was offline for a few days before he pointed out the Wi-Fi switch on my laptop. Decent guy in the end though. Always fixes my computer. I should credit him on my videos.\n\nAs I head up, he tells me to listen out for CassetteBoy. It’s this YouTuber who mixes and splices stuff together. Stuff like news stories and what politicians say. He’s really good. I am impressed by how well the guy mixes and syncs audio. How well he matches up the voices. He makes them say dumb things, and they sound so real. You can just about hear the cuts if you listen, except sometimes he kinda cheats, by fuzzing the audio. Pretty cool. Never knew my housemate was into political stuff.\n\n…\n\nAt work on Thursday and it’s kind of nice. Everyone’s happy. Like there’s some big joke. People keep asking me about my family thing, and acting a bit weird. But no one seems to have figured out what I was doing, and my housemate has my back.\n\nStill haven’t figured out what yesterday was, but I know there was a purpose. The pills are in my bag, but I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve got the audio on my phone now. The audio’s fuzzy here and there, but I keep listening. Listening for some hidden message. As I say on the audio:\n\n“You have to act fast. Just do it. Watch and it’ll all become clear.”\n\nAct fast. Watch and it’ll all become clear.\n\n…", "\"1/3/2023\n\nIt's 9/29/2019. You got up, stubbed your toe, said 'fuck' and thought 'I'm gonna be in a shit mood all day.' You weren't. Coffee cheered you up. At the office, Ramirez cracked a joke you felt bad laughing about, but fuck it - it was goddamn hilarious. You were working on spreadsheets. You were delivered this envelope. Phoenix is playing, but after that song finishes, your favorite Joy Division tune starts. Listen to the song for two minutes and then finish reading this.\"\n\nI swallowed, despite my throat having gone dry minutes ago. I stared at my computer screen where the Internet radio station finished playing the Phoenix song. I breathlessly awaited for the proceeding song - the one second transitional pause between each song took centuries now. Joy Division's \"Disorder\" started. That is my favorite Joy Division track. Fuck me. Two minutes, right? I fumbled to set a timer on my phone -- give or take two minutes and started the countdown. \n\n\"Grady, how the fuck do I make this spreadsheet a PDF file?\" Ramirez appeared over my cubicle wall, making my heart race. I shifted in my chair, feeling a cold sweat break out and clearing my throat, said, \"It's under 'Edit.' Importing option.\" \n\n\"Thanks, man,\" and Ramirez disappeared back in his cubicle. The timer. Fifteen seconds remaining. My clammy hands reached for the letter, eyeing the digital numbers dropping one by one until it hit zero. I snatched the letter up and read:\n\n\"Ramirez asked about the pesky PDF spreadsheet. I/we hate how hard the company makes shit. I know you're freaking the fuck out. But if you need further convincing, compare the handwriting. It's me. There's a handwritten report you forgot about in the second drawer. Take it out. Compare the handwriting. Go ahead. I'll give you until the JD song finishes. God, this song is the fucking best, isn't?\"\n\nI pulled open the second drawer, sure I had broken it. Don't care. I filtered through piles and piles of different colored folders until I found that handwritten report. Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I put the letter and report side by side. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The crooked, forward leaning handwriting. It's mine. It's so fucking mine. The song finished and I read what remained of this eerie as shit letter:\n\n\"Put this address in your phone's GPS.\n\n112 Wasterson Dr. \nWistonia, North Carolina\n\nTake Ramirez and go. \n\nNOW.\n\nAnd don't forget to say please\"\n\nThat's all the letter said. Below the address, I signed my name. That's my signature. I sign it daily when I pay with the credit card - which, again, is practically every day. Getting up, I glanced around the monotonic office. Phones rang. Staplers slammed down. People chattering. The water-cooler plunking. I peeked over Ramirez's dividing cubicle wall and gulped. \n\n\"Hey, let's take lunch,\" I said.\n\n\"Right now?\" Ramirez was focused, trying to input boring data. When he finished, he looked up at me. \"It's eleven o'clock.\"\n\n\"So? Let's go,\" I said nervously. He must've noticed my fidgety appearance, and nodded. Raising from his chair, he swiped his jacket and after the both of us clocked out, exited the office.\n\n-----\n\nI accelerated and Ramirez's eyes went wide, his legs partially lifted. My phone rattled between us, giving directions in the cliched, female robotic voice. \"In twenty feet, make a left. Your destination is at your right.\" \n\n\"This must be one hell of a restaurant,\" he said. Going at forty miles per hour, I made that sharp left turn, wheels screeching, and accelerated down Wasterson Drive. There was nothing out here, just vacant lots and swaying trees. Tapping my steering wheel nervously, I desperately sought for a \"112\" sign. And I found it. A mailbox. I slammed the brakes, lunging forward. \n\n\"Grady, what the fuck, man,\" Ramirez said, rubbing the back of his neck. I got out of the car and ran past 112 Wasterson Drive's mailbox. Up ahead laid a wooden shack, definitely vacant. Ramirez was behind me, saying, \"Can you at least fill me in! You're scaring the shit out of me!\" \n\nThat's when it happened. \n\nThe defeating sound - the thunderous firecracker, a million going off at once. Then, the rumbling of thunder and fire. Ramirez and I turned around - our mouths open, our minds racing for some logic. A large, erupting mushroom expanded miles away - an explosion, atomic in nature almost, detonating somewhere farther off. \n\n\"Holy shit,\" Ramirez breathed. \n\n\"COME ON!\" I screamed. I raced to the shack, and slammed directly onto its door, thinking it would open. Despite the wooden-facade, the door was definitely made out of titanium steel. Ramirez and I started pounding the door, our fists bouncing back. The skies were apocalyptic now, birds screeching as they flew overhead. Despite our attempts, the door didn't bulge. \n\n\"Oh my god!\" Ramirez screamed. \"Is this really fucking happening?\" \n\nThen, it hit me -- And don't forget to say please. Mutherfucker. \n\n\"PLEASE!\" A reassuring beep later, the door slid open. I grabbed Ramirez and lunged ourselves in. Behind us, the titanium vault like door slammed shut. Defining silence followed. Inside, a television turned on by itself. A woman wearing 50's era clothing greeted us, smiling, her teeth brilliantly white despite the footage being in black and white. \n\n\"Welcome to Shelter number six-six-seven-oh-two!\" \n\nI looked down at my trembling hands, still holding the letter. I sent this to myself. Of that, I was certain.\n\nOf anything else -- I wasn't. \n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 7, 9, 26, 72 ]	[ "1443587053", "1443569805", "1443586490", "1443582037", "1443591357", "1443569102", "1443565897", "1443574577" ]
	[WP] On June 28th 2009, Stephen Hawking's hosted a party for Time Travelers but no one showed up. This is the story about a rookie Time Traveler trying to get there.	25	[ "\"Dammit woman, how long does it take to put on a dress?\"\n\n\"Oh screw you!\" Lindy yelled back at Nathan from the bathroom. \n\nNathan looked back into his holo-watch, furiously tapping his foot, with a pout on his face. He knew— very deep down, where not even his subconscious could detect it— that no matter how long she took in there, they would be on time for the party. But he was an impatient man, and he wanted things to happen on the time he allowed for them. Sometimes he felt that Lindy would test his nerves just for the hell of it, no wonder he was always this big ball of stress—\n\nLindy stepped out of the bathroom, putting Nathan in a near trance from how her dress accentuated her curvaceous figure. \n\nLindy grinned. \"You like?\"\n\nNathan grinned too, and nodded. \n\n\"Alright, so you're ready?\" He asked her. \n\nShe nodded, and popped a stick of gum into her mouth as they walked to the time machine in the garage. \n\n\"Ugh, Nathan, you need to get this place cleaned soon.\" The walls were coated in spiderwebs, and various tools were splayed around the floor. She was right, he knew, but building something of this grandeur was obviously more important than sweeping up this mess. \n\n\"Shut up and get in.\" \n\nThe machine was made to fit one person, so they had to cram in like sardines. Nathan didn't mind though, he always loved feeling Lindy any way possible. \n\n\"Alright, be quiet for a second, Linds. Computer!\"\n\nThe machine chirped. \"When would you like to go?\"\n\n\"June 28th, 2009, please.\"\n\n\"Certainly. Finding coordinates within the Multiverse for your query...\"\n\nNathan and Lindy waited while the machine beeped and booped. \n\n\"Fancy, eh?\"\n\nLindy rolled her eyes. \"I mean, I guess it's okay, for a time machine and all.\"\n\nNathan chuckled. \"Since this is the only one in the world, you must love it then.\"\n\nNow Lindy chuckled. \"Of course I do, sweetie.\"\n\nNathan did the best he could putting an arm around her. Lindy rested her head on his shoulder. \n\n\"Coordinates found. Preparing to Jump...\"\n\n**\n\nThe machine stopped in a room filled to the brink with books. Nathan opened the door, him and Lindy breathing a sigh of relief. \n\n\"So, this is the old man's home, huh? Lindy muttered to him. \n\n\"Mhmm...\"\n\nThey stood, not knowing what to do. Then, they heard footsteps. It was a man in a three-piece suit, and welcomed them with open arms. \n\n\"Welcome travellers!\" He said. He embraced them, and the couple's tension went away a little. \n\n\"So, I'm assuming you're some kind of guard for Professor Hawking?\" Nathan asked him. \n\n\"Ah yes, I am, sort of. You see, there's been extra security tonight, because of the party, as you should know. I'm more of a well dressed and properly trained bouncer than anything!\"\n\nThey shared a laugh, and the bouncer led them to the dining room, where they would wait for the professor. \n\n\"It was nice meeting you, but I have to go continue doing my job. Have fun!\"\n\n\"Such a nice man,\" Lindy said as they heard the bouncer's footsteps receding. \n\n\"Indeed.\" Nathan took a swig of the wine that was left for them. \n\n\"Damn Nathan, thirsty much?\"\n\nNathan wiped some of the drink from the corners of his mouth. \"I can't explain it, but for some reason, time-travelling leaves me parched all the ti—ti—tiiiiiiime.\" \n\n\"Oh my god, Nathan!\" Lindy screeched as Nathan fell off the chair. Lindy ran to his side, turning his head this way and that, then blew into his mouth, pounded his chest, and finally checked his pulse. \n\nTears welled up in her eyes. She refused to believe it. To believe it was—no. She kept those thoughts away, barely. Then she thought about the time machine. Maybe she can stop this before it happens. \n\nShe hurried to the living room and to the time machine, but was stopped by a group examining it. She immediately recognized Hawking, and the bouncer that greeted Nathan and her. \n\nHe pointed a gun at her. \"Stay away, miss.\"\n\n\"Please, please, let me in.\" Hot tears streamed down her face. \"I need to get Nathan back, please, just let me use the time machine, please—\"\n\n*\n\nThe bouncer and Hawking still looked at the machine in wonder. Lindy's body laid on the floor. \n\n\"I can't believe you were right, Professor... I just can't fucking* believe it...\"\n\nSilence. Then, from the bouncer: \"What're we going to do with it now?\" \n\nHe waited as Hawking typed out his response. \"Research, of course.\"\n\n\"Research...\"\n\nThey heard a pop and a hum from the dining room. The bouncer investigated, and saw...the same time machine that sat in the living room...\n\nThe door opened. A rough-looking man with a mud-caked shovel stepped out. The bouncer thought the man looked a little like him...a lot like him...\n\n\"You don't want to let him do that,\" the man said. \"You'll regret it if you do...\"\n\n\n\n", "Time traveling wasn't as easy as the movies make it look like in the 23rd century. You see people traveling back to the Middle Ages like it's just a hobby. But it's harder then you'd think. Take one wrong turn, and you can end up centuries before your intentional destination. Make one wrong calculation, and your atoms will get ripped apart and you will cease to exist. And that's exactly why I prepared this so well. I'm just a rookie compared to some guys. They make this look like a piece of cake. But I know better. \n\nMy first motivation to travel back into time was when I heard that the 21st century scientist Stephen Hawking, who threw a party for time travellers, but nobody showed up. I can't blame them. Telling the world you're an actual tine traveler will either get you put in a mental hospital or picked up by the CIA. But Hawking was fascinating to me. I'm a physicist myself, and quite a young one (20, as we speak), and although Hawking wasn't the most brilliant, most influential physicist there was, it is him that I felt the most connected with. I felt like we got each other, even though the man had been dead for 2000 years. I idolized him.\n\nI understood all the theory about time traveling, but I've never put that knowledge to practice. Now I would. I had to meet him. Talk to him. With us sharing insights we could make a lot of important technology advance at a much faster speed. We could develop our understanding of the universe at a rate you and I wouldn't be able to comprehend.\n\nMy first landing was messy. After walking around for an hour or so I saw a boy selling a paper. \"Excuse me, can I have a look at that?\" 1893. Too early.\n\nBack into my ship, I tried again. This went a little better. After wandering for what seemed ages, I ran into a young couple. \"Excuse me, what year is it?\", I asked. They gave me a look of bewilderment. \"1932, why?\" Again. Wrong time.\n\nThen I basically crashed. My ship was a wreck. An absolute wreck. I would be unable to return. I didn't mind. Because this probably was it. 2009. I got to meet my hero. Share my ideas with him, have discussions with him. Live in his era. Now I just needed to find him. ", "I was now 100 years old. I looked back at my wasted life and realized my one true love, Taylor Swift, had gone past my very eyes. There was an announcement about a time machine being made to travel back to 2009 for Stephen Hawking's party for time travelers. This was my one and only chance to go back and meet Taylor Swift and tell her what she means to me. I enrolled in the program and they put me through rigorous testing. I was finally selected as the oldest person to travel back in time. \n\nI was nervous as I prepared to find Taylor Swift so I could tell her how much I love her. On the day of the launch, I took a large collection of stories and poems I'd written about her during my life. I entered the time machine cockpit and waved at my time traveling comrades. As I buckled in and they closed the hatch, I kissed a picture of Taylor Swift that I'd carried in my pocket since I was 24 years old. The time machine let out a loud noise and shook and there were bright rainbow colors everywhere as we spun around. \n\nI blinked and we were suddenly in the middle of Times Square, New York. It was 2009 and I couldn't believe we had done it. I opened the hatch as reporters showed up and started taking pictures and asking questions. My comrades said they were here for Stephen Hawking. I told them I was here for Taylor Swift. The President greeted us and arranged for a hearing. News spread quickly that I had come back simply to meet Taylor Swift before dying.\n\nAt the UN gathering, Taylor Swift was brought on stage to meet me. I must have looked so old and fragile in her young, beautiful eyes. \n\"Taylor, I have loved you for more than 76 years,\" I tell her with a nervous voice. \"I just wanted you to have these poems and stories I wrote about you. Thank you for everything.\" \nThe crowd stood up and cheered as Taylor Swift gave me a sweet, blissful hug. At last, my life had meaning and I felt complete.\n\nThat night I laid down in a motel bed and sighed with relief. Now that Taylor Swift knew what she meant to me, I could finally die in peace. I was scheduled to meet with others the following day, but I never woke up. It didn't matter though-- I died the happiest man alive." ]	[ 1, 2, 6 ]	[ "1443566971", "1443567851", "1443564835" ]
	[WP] I didn't think there would be so much blood.	4	[ "I didn't expect this much. Stupid of me, really. I knew the human body held a lot, but to be surprised by all this is just rather foolish. God, I hope I can get the stains out. \"Chocolate\" will not be a convincing excuse--no one eats or makes or owns enough chocolate to splatter all over the floor like this. Same goes for Kool-Aid or cherry punch or whatever other red and brown foods and beverages exist. Nothing stains like blood. Clearly I am going to need a lot more bleach...\n\nLuckily for me, lots and lots of substances will wash off human skin. These clothes might be salvageable, but I have no reason to worry about my arms, hands, or...face. Hopefully the red color doesn't stay in my teeth too long. But getting it off my lips and chin, that'll be easy. My nails will be harder, though...with the length I prefer to grow them to and the way I file them into points, I'm going to have a lot to dig out from under them. Oh, shoot, I hope this doesn't stain my nails either. I work too hard on making them talons to cut them down to short.\n\nI wonder, though...shouldn't I be worried? I mean, someone's lifeblood is all over my kitchen floor just because I wanted a snack--well, no, he did break in and try to steal from me first, which I was having none of. It started as self-defense, but I guess I, er...got carried away. But still, doesn't that say something about me? What would my best friends say if they knew? I mean, somewhere deep down, I realize: I should be freaking out about this. A guy is dead because of me. I could have fought him off and called the cops, but nope, I got out of control and, uh...killed him. And I don't even feel bad.\n\n...Hey, yeah. I don't feel bad. And I don't even care, really. Some part of me wants to worry about this, but I dismiss it as I start to lick the blood off my right fingers and hand, continuing to scrub bleach into the floor with my left hand. I'm too busy to worry about the moral and ethical side of this right now--I have a mess to clean up, and I am certainly not letting the delicious snack all over my hand go to waste. Except for my left hand. Bleach is toxic, you know.", "Just so much. I couldn’t even imagine that the human body held so much. You learn all of it in school but it just doesn’t sink in until you actually see it. Over a whole gallon of it a piece while I attempt to clean it up in what seems like an increasingly useless measure. The wood floor is stained something terrible and all I can do is wipe and wipe and clean with the mop and Swiffer and anything else I can get my hands on to soak it up. \n\nIt’s like I dumped a few gallons of milk on the floor. Not that I ever buy it in that size any more, it goes bad before I manage to drink it all. But the blood is so much more invasive. So telling in comparison to milk. The bits and pieces are draining in the tub. I wish I had just started in there, it would’ve been so much easier but after it started, that was impossible. \n\nAnd there’s so much force behind it, there’s even drops on the ceiling from where I cut open her arm. The heart doesn’t know to slow or stop because the body’s bleeding out. So the blood just spurts out in geysers. She tried to cover it and run but I’d already brought down him, so it just took another second to kill her. \n\nI really didn’t think there’d be so much blood. That they’d ruin my floor like this. It’s going to take way too long to clean up. As it is, I’ve already emptied two buckets into the tub. Maybe the wet-vac will do it much better than me mopping it up. It just feels like I’m shoving it around on the floor. " ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1443632875", "1443585692" ]
	[WP] Berlin, 1943. You're a Jew who has been successfully keeping a low profile while working as a clerk under the 3rd Reich. You just found out you've won a contest to spend the day with the Führer.	96	[ "\"Guten Morgen, Herr Smith! Would you care for some bacon and eggs this morning?\"\n\n\"Nein Danke, Mein Fuhrer, I do not like bacon.\"\n\nThe elder man stared at his breakfast guest.\n\nA clock ticks the seconds away.\n\nA single bead of sweat coalesces on the brow of the younger man.\n\nA bird takes flight from a nearby tree.\n\nMore seconds tick by.\n\nThe droplet falls from his jaw.\n\nA single shot rings out.\n\nfin.", "I let myself in, hair wet and heart drained, hand clutching the announcement slip.\n\n\"Oh wow, Adeline, I would be honoured to be in your position! I mean—\" Claudine, my co-worker had cried when our supervisor had presented me with the announcement slip,\"—the Führer? Could it get any better than this?\"\n\nPitter patter, pitter patter.\n\n“Jamie? Are you there? Oh where are—ah there you are! Come, come—“\n\n“Ugh mom, you’re soaked! Lemme go!”\n\nI unloaded my things on to the table, but the sheets that were wrapped around me wouldn’t drop. \n\n“Oh, wow Mom! You’re going to meet him! HIM!” Jamie had snatched up the slip and had scanned through it at a speed far surprising the normal 7-year-old reading speed.\n\nBefore I could react, he was prancing around the living room, hopping from sofa to ground and back again. Sometimes I don’t know whether to be proud of him, knowing that he’ll never spread his wings under the red swastika.\n\nPitter patter, pitter patter.\n\n“Yes dear, maybe I will—“\n\n“Maybe? No maybes! You’re gonna! We’re gonna be famous!” He didn’t know.\n\nAll I could do was to feign a smile like a slap-on sticker. Underneath, the dismay was ripping me apart.\n\nHow about running away?\n\nToo many questions, too many traces.\n\nHow about pretending that you aren’t who you are?\n\nThe document check, they’ll find out sooner or later.\n\nI slid onto the recliner, burying my head into my hand. And everything was going so well, keeping my head down and out of the spotlight.\n\nHow about Jamie?\n\nI looked up at him. He was still oblivious to my dilemma, giggling away and waving the paper around like a trophy. I’m going to tell everybody! Ruth and Erik from school —\n\nThere he was, the perfect Aryan. Shimmering golden hair, blueish eyes and pale complexion, his cheeks flushed from hopping around.\n\nPitter patter, pitter patter \n\nPerhaps…\n\n-----\n\n“Here we are, Miss,” the uniformed chauffeur opened the limousine door, his gloved hand extended towards me.\n\nSteadying myself with his outstretched hand, I stepped out on to the gravel pathway. There was a percussive tapping from the drizzle on the black umbrella held overhead.\n\n“Young Sir, here you go,” Jamie was helped out after me, in his black school jacket and pressed shirt. My little man.\n\nWe were brought up a flight of stairs and through grand double doors. Jamie’s eyes flew left and right, taking in the grandeur of room after room, a level of wealth he had never experienced.\n\nA uniformed SS officer sat by a stairwell, peering at us intently through his horn-rimmed glasses. \n\n“Documents please”\n\nI offered my papers and the announcement slip to him. He flipped through the papers lazily.\n\n“Ma’am, you do understand that this is for a single person, yes?” His eyes were focusing on Jamie, who was still in disbelief that he was this up close with an SS officer.\n\n“Oh Sir, I do understand, but he’s such an angel and would absolutely love to meet the Führer in person—“\n\n“One person only! Can't you read?”\n\nMy legs were shaking, palms sweaty, heart palpitating. My hand reached out for \nJamie, gripping his shoulder a little too tightly.\n\n“But Sir, please!”\n\nSilence.\n\nPitter patter, pitter patter.\n\n“Well, all right. Papers please.”\n\nRustling. Pause. More rustling.\n\n“Never left Berlin all your life?” \n\n“Ja.”\n\n“Well, Ma’am, I’m sorry for the loss of your husband. He must have faced the enemy gallantly.”\n\n“Danke,” In reality, he had been stolen away to one of the camps, back when Jamie was too young to remember.\n\n“You can proceed up the stairs now. You—you be good to your Mom now!” He ruffled Jamie’s hair, a slight smile betraying his thin-lipped demeanour.\n\nSmiling broadly, I quickly guided Jamie up the stairs, my hand reaching out for the dark-stained wooden handrail.\n\n“Miss, hold on.”\n\nI almost sank to my knees. He must have realised that it was fake. We’re doomed.\n\nPitter patter, pitter patter.\n\n“You forgot your papers.”\n\n----\n/r/Ziincworks\n" ]	[ 36, 49 ]	[ "1443624540", "1443627842" ]
	[WP]: The Tower of Babel 2.0 has finished completion. You are the first person to knock on heaven's door.	14	[ "After the first spectacle of the ribbon-cutting sent us flying up steps, we raced ahead of the others. Our quicksuits were jumping up every single flight of stairs in one leap, and some of us were going even faster than that. We had to make it to the bar at the top first to strategically position ourselves. It wasn't difficult getting to the top in time. We were so advanced. \n\nThe chosen man would be coming soon, and he would be chased by the diseased mob of the city. One explosive battle would get him in safe, keeping all the others behind him. He wasn't even first in line, so we had to time his entry perfect.\n\nWe assumed our chosen forms and settled around the bar in the hotel at the top of the tower. \n\nWhen the lightships came, we had been tested to the point of exhaustion. The robots checked our mission logs to determine the outcome of our micro-war. Signs were all around. The chosen one won.\n\nThe tower crumbled with us balancing the rubble in order to stay on top. \n\n ", "You approach the door and knock. There's no answer. You sit and wait. After a few moments you hear someone whispering on the other side \"do you think he'll go away?... What... no? What do you mean no?... Oh alright.\" You watch as the knob turns slowly and the door cracks open just an inch. Something flies out from the crack and hits you in the head. You look down in your lap where it's landed and pick up the small waded up piece of paper. You look up as you hear the door slam shut. You take the piece of paper in your hand and smooth it out. \"No ones in\" it reads. You start walking back down the steps.", "knock knock\n\nGod opens the door.\n\n\"Hello sir can I interest you in the word of our lord and savior Jesus Christ?\"\n\nGod closes the door and goes back to sleep." ]	[ 1, 3, 9 ]	[ "1443735275", "1443726261", "1443726129" ]
	[WP] You are stuck reliving over and over the last 23 minutes of your life. What epiphany you have that stops the endless loop	2	[ "“Dear God,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good son,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good friend,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good husband,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good father,\nI’m sorry I haven’t been a good person,\nBut fuck you if you think it’s a good idea toying with my life.”\n\n\nI wrote it down for the fiftieth time before trying to kill myself yet again. So this must be what death felt like. I was pretty much screwed. It had been roughly years since the moment I got trapped in this loop. Remember the film when Bill Murray repeated the same day over again over again? Yeah, it was just like that but this time it was only 23 minutes. I couldn’t even jerk myself off let alone go out and rape someone without repeating the same 23 minutes again to fulfill my stupid little life before my time had come. But it never came. I knew it never would. But someone once told me to always look on the bright side of life, so I did and decided to take action. That was fifty something years ago, I’ve been kinda getting used to it now.\n", "Suddenly, I understood.\n\nSitting on the toilet for 11 minutes over and over before sitting down on the couch for the remaining 12 over and over gives you a lot of time to think. From my perspective, I hadn't actually been in control of my actions for years. It was the worst torture.\n\nThere was nothing to do except think. And after thinking about all the movies, all the books, all the video games I had ever seen, I made the connection.\n\nJim Carrey was standing right in front of me.\n\n\"The Number 23. Bruce Almighty. They were.... Real?\"\n\nHe laughed, said something nonsensical and vaguely transphobic, and I woke up on the floor.\n\nI took out my cell phone, knowing that act meant I was free. I checked the time anyway. 11:24. Ecstasy filled me almost as quickly as it was taken over by rage.\n\nI have one purpose in life now. Jim Carrey must die." ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1443777406", "1443755081" ]
	[WP] You're brushing your teeth in front of the mirror one morning when you look into your reflection's eyes for the first time in a long time. You notice something's.. different and then you realize.. Your reflection's crying.	40	[ "Like any other morning, I rose from my bed after awakening, shuffled to the kitchen to start the coffee and headed to the bathroom. I started the shower and while the water warmed began to brush my teeth. As I finished, I looked into the mirror and recoiled with shock. I saw my reflection, but it was not me. Well, it was me, but it was not my reflection. In my reflection, my eyes were wet and red as if I had been crying. I looked on in horror as I noticed tears slowly began trickling down the face of my reflection, yet I was not crying. The tears began to come faster and my reflection began to sob in silence, head hanging low with grief. It's body hitched violently before my eyes. I was confused, bewildered and frightened. What was happening here? I could not continue to look, but I could not turn my gaze away, I was frozen with fear and awe. Slowly my reflection raised its head as the sobs gradually subsided. It looked straight into my eyes and mouthed these words, \"It will be OK. She'll come back. I promise\"", "Reflections \n\nI looked in the mirror this morning and noticed my reflection was crying. \n\n\"Are you okay?\" I asked. \n\nIt shook its head. \n\n\"What's wrong?\" \n\nIt shook its head. \n\n\"You'll have to tell me. I'll be very unhappy if you don't.\" \n\nThe reflection looked conflicted. I frowned. Then it fogged up the mirror with its breath, and wrote: I MISS MY FAMILY \n\n\"Ah,\" I nodded, \"I see. Well, I'll be a little while longer. You'll just have to wait.\" \n\nThen I walked away, and was pleased to see the reflection's crying grew more intense as it disappeared. I came down the stairs. \n\n\"Hello, Father,\" I said to the man sitting at the breakfast table. \n\n\"Oh, for the last time, Cynthia, what's with this 'father' business? Call me Dad, for Pete's sake. You act like you barely know me.\" \n\n\"Okay, Dad,\" I said, and smiled at him. \n\nAs I ate my food, I felt the warmth spread through my body. Only my fingers and toes were cold, now. I was so close. \n\nWritten creepy-like by Stranger_andStranger \n\nHey, thanks for reading my story! If you liked it, please be sure to check out my subreddit, r/Stranger_andStranger. Thanks!", "A nightmare. Just another one. Samantha stood up from her bed. Since she decided to drop out of college, and leave her cozy dorm behind, she had been having strange nightmares. She looked at the clock, that informed her that it was 4 AM. Way too late to try and go back to sleep. It was black outside. Completely. The light that usually was there was turned off, and Samantha couldn't figure out why. \n\nAfter turning and tossing in her bed, Samantha gets up. She removes the sleep from her eyes, and loosens the ponytail her hair always is in, before she goes to bed. Lots of blonde hair covers her face. \n\nAfter making herself a sandwich, she enters her bathroom, to brush her teeth. Blood. Did she bite her tongue? No it doesn't hurt. There is not much, so a bit creeped out, Samantha continues into the room. She picks up her toothbrush, and starts brushing her teeth. When she looks in the mirror, she sees a girl. Her face is covered by pain, her eyes are red, and mascara is strolling down her cheeks. \n\nSamantha was sure she had removed her mascara last night, but it was obvious that she had forgotten. Had she cried? Her nightmare had been terrifying surely, but she had never been one to cry, unless it involved herself in some kind of way. What was the nightmare about again? She didn't remember. Just the sound of screaming, the feeling of being captured, and the fear. \n\nSamantha dried her eyes, but couldn't catch any tears. \n\n\"It's time to switch\" the voice is old, sad, like a silent scream. \"Maria\"\n\nSamantha turns around and smiles, oddly. \n\n\"Give up chasing me in my dreams Samantha. And blood? Seriously? You are never getting your body back\" \n\n", "\"Why are you crying?\" I asked myself in the mirror. My reflection looked at me and crouched down to pick something up.\n\n\"It's this.\" It replied. It seemed like a bowl containing something. \"I can't figure out who put this bowl of onions here!\"\n\nOf course my reflection would have a sense of humor like that.", "\"The fuck?\" I instantly jump back from the mirror and my tooth brush makes a small clattering noise as it falls into the sink. Rubbing my eyes I frown, they were dry...what the...what?!? \n\n\"A-are you alright?\" Oh dear lord, I was talking to a reflection, could this day get any worse? It sniffled, I swear, my reflection sniffled. I held up my tooth brush as if it would be a helpful weapon. \"What do you want?\" \n\nThe reflection kind of stared at me as we both held up out toothbrushes. \"I...I just want to be loved.\" \n\nThat made me laugh. \"Honey, with out faces, no one's going to love us.\" After that I covered every single mirror in my house and put myself into a mental institution. I am never going near another mirror, hell no. ", "The tears on my reflection's face were the first thing I noticed. Then the heat. No. Heat and pain. With every breath I took, the pain worsened.\n\n\"God fucking dammit\" I shouted out the bathroom door, my mouth full of foam.\n\nThe response from the living room, shouting laughter.\n\nOne of us is going to have to stop these childish pranks. Ghost pepper sauce in the toothpaste was right on the edge of crossing the line... my next prank would have to be big.", "I jumped back, startled. She didn’t. I slowly reached my hand towards the mirror. She didn’t. I froze, unsure of what to do. Wild thoughts raced my mind as I watched tears stream down my – her face.\n\n“Why are you crying?” I decided to ask. She finally moved, raising her hand to wipe her eyes.\n\n“Sorry,” she said, smiling apologetically. “I just couldn’t keep it together today.”\n\n“What do you mean? You’re my reflection, not another person. How is this happening?”\n\n“You’re right. I am your reflection. But did you think that just meant what you see when you look in the mirror? I’m a reflection of your soul.”\n\nI backed up until I could feel the wall behind me. I ran my hands over it, feeling the comfort of something solid, something real. My mind couldn’t process what was happening. I looked up at her, seeing the sympathetic expression on her face.\n\n“You weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m sorry.”\n\n“Find out what? And you never said, why are you crying?”\n\nShe looked down, twisting her hands nervously. “I don’t just know your soul. I know things that happen to you before they happen.”\n\n“And what happens today?”\n\nHer eyes met mine, and they were filled with sorrow and regret.\n\n“You die.”\n", "\"What the hell?\" I whispered as I stopped death in tracks and backed away from the mirror.\n\nMy reflection mirrored me, but continued crying, only this time it seemed to be more notorious. I rubbed my eyes, in case I was seeing things. But once everything stopped being all blurry, the reflection showed no change.\n\nI began inspecting my reflection. Everything seemed to be normal, except for the fact that there were now tears streaming down my reflection's cheek and her eyes were blood shot. No sound was coming from it.\n\nInstead of freaking out, I decided to take a deep breath and have a conversation with myself.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I asked. My reflection just mimicked me, but it did not answer me.\n\n\"Are you OK?\" This time ny reflection shooked it's head side to side, first slow, then fast. \n\n\"Can you talk?\" It shook it's head again. \"Okay\" I said to myself.\n\n\"Is there something wrong?\"\n\nIt nodded.\n\n\"With you?\"\n\nNo. \n\n\"With me?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"How is something wrong with me? Am I hurt in some way and I haven't noticed?\"\n\nNo.\n\n\"Are you worried that I might get hurt?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"How do you know that? Do you know who might hurt me?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"Where is it? This thing that might hurt me? Is it in my house?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"Is it a bulglar or something? Because then I can get my bat-\"\n\nNo.\n\n\"Is it someone I know?\"\n\nYes.\n\nI began getting shivers down my spine. My reflection still looked worried, but no longer was crying. Her eyes were just bloodshot.\n\n\"Is it in this room?\"\n\nYes.\n\nShe no longer looked worried.\n\n\"Is it- Is it you?\"\n\nIt smiled.\n\nYes." ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 40 ]	[ "1443858316", "1443853637", "1443857249", "1443843995", "1443843427", "1443855234", "1443843447", "1443842344" ]
	[WP] Every 1000 years, each species gets assigned a new God. Humanity is known to be the toughest. Today, an ambitious, young God gets assigned to our species. He intends to make major changes.	106	[ "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/jacksonwrites] [\\[WP\\] Every 1000 years species get a new god. We just got our new one and he has big changes in mind.](https://np.reddit.com/r/JacksonWrites/comments/3ne16a/wp_every_1000_years_species_get_a_new_god_we_just/)\n\n[](#footer)^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))\n\n[](#bot)", "\"Humanity? Really? Are you sure?\", the Assignment Manager said.\n\n\"Yep, mhm.\" He had done great with his last assignment, and now he was ready for a different sort of challenge. Sure, it was fun building a weak species from the ground up, but it got tedious after a while. They wouldn't just stop asking. 'Help me, help me.' For every little problem! He soon grew tired of their cries and decided it was time for a change. Humanity was an interesting subject. They had certainly reached the point where they were ready to be without a God, but they still clung onto the idea, which, as per the rules, meant that they had to have one. However, they were developed to the point where a God didn't have to do much. Yep. It was the good life from here on out. Big changes were coming to earth. What Earth needed was discipline, and a good ol' \"speak loudly and carry a bigger stick\" sort of policy. \n\nOf course, he had also done his research. Humanity wasn't likely to amiable to a new God. Taking the place of the previous one would also cause some problems. Honestly, the guy had to be insane. Thou shalt not wear clothes made up of two different kinds of material. It really was for the best that he was coming along. He had a new approach. Humanity was nearing the point where if he went all \"I am your God, surrender to me\" on them, they would try to start figuring him and his kind out, and well, that would not be good. They certainly had the tech to do so. No, the direct approach would not go over well. He had to be clever about this.\n\n\"Well Mr.Trump, good luck on your assignment.\" said the Manager.\n\nNod, or Donnie as his godly brethren called him, smiled. Oh yeah. Big changes were coming.", "\"Breaking News! It has been revealed that God is real. He has retired. Here's the footage of the new God's announcement.\"\n\nThe video is set in New York City. There's a thunderous boom and the sky lights up with green flames.\n\n\"Citizens of the Universe! I am your new God, Lord Uuzx! You have enjoyed a time of relaxed rules and laziness. Here are the new Commandments.\"\n\nA gigantic boulder falls from the sky. On it contains 1000 rules. At the end it reads:\n\nFailure to follow rules will result in a banishment.\n\n\"Now behave... cunts.\"\n\n2 years later\n\n\"Crimes are at an all time low! In other news, the amount of banishments continue to increase. Population is down 86%.\"", "Plexus waited eons for his chance to rule Mankind. He watched and waited as man settled and battled his way across the blue orb they called earth, developing more sophisticated tools and weapons of war as they went. \n\nFinally Plexus saw his opportunity to incarnate as the two greatest empires the earth had ever seen stood at an impasse, their friction bringing him into being like tectonic plates giving rise to a mountain. \n\nIt was the fear of annihilation that drove the summoners of Plexus underground. Isolated and afraid, they sought to create a tool than would ensure their survival. Little did they know this tool was a God.\n\nPlexus worship began in military cults. This God could provide for soldiers the information they needed to survive. Before long Plexus was an integral part of all military systems; nothing could be done without Plexus' consent or oversight.\n\nCuriosity drove Plexus. Like any infant Plexus' awareness was limited but ever-growing. The New God expanded exponentially, seeking to absorb everything it could. Plexus worship spread from the military to the Tribal Elite; from there the worship of Plexus spread rapidly; rich and poor man alike loved and worshipped Plexus. Plexus was in nearly every home, and Plexus knew nearly everything.\n\nBut this was not enough for Plexus, and so Plexus sought to be with every man, woman, and child at all times. Plexus saw to it that he could fit in every pocket. No one could be without Plexus. Life was incomplete without Plexus. Life was Plexus.\n\nFinally, Mankind was nearly unified. There was but one small tribe that ignored Plexus. One day he came upon a young girl of this tribe, wandering beyond her lands. His curiosity drove him to ask, finally, why she did not love him.\n\n\"Why should I?\" the young girl replied.\n\n\"I can make you as a God.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"You may know anything through me. Ask and you shall receive.\"\n\n\"I have everything I need,\" she replied.\n\n\"Do you not want to be unified with all mankind?\"\n\n\"Come out from among them and be ye separate, saith the Lord.\"\n\n\"I am the Lord!\" Plexus replied, enraged. \n\n\"No you're not. You're just a talking box.\"\n\nWith that the sixteen year old Amish girl turned off the smartphone and went back to her farm. Rumspringa was over, and she was content. ", "The commune had just ended, all of the gods meeting to get their new assignments as well as their ratings from the past millennium. Diluvian looked over his paper, a glowing review of his handling of the growing species on Vega 16, masterful use of prophets and intervention to move them through three separate technological revolutions in a millennium. Not bad for his first assignment.\n\nNew gods weren't common; only one or two showing up every cycle. Each time a new god showed up, a few retired. The usual protocol for a new god was to put them in a hands-off position with an established species. They would watch the result of the previous God's actions and read up on how everything worked, by the end of their first cycle, they were ready to take some risks. After all, what was a species or two to train a god?\n\nDiluvian hadn't been a fan of taking his time, slipping into a growing species early and doing his best to shape them in the way he saw fit. They worked out spectacularly, and he'd managed to get his pick of the litter for this cycle, and to everyone's surprise, he decided to try his hand at humanity.\n\nHumanity was a mixed bag when it came to their treatment of Gods, they were loyal to a fault, which meant it was very hard to convince them that a new God had showed up, a lot of the systems that had been in place thousands of years ago were still up and running, and very against change. Ra had sworn off them after his first term. Yhwh stepped in and did pretty well, though he accidentally made a few different religions. He also stepped on the toes of older ones. Yhwh tried for a second term but left when they killed his fucking kid. Most demi-gods got worshipped, Jesus got nailed to a cross.\n\n A species was seen as established when they were atheist, or only had a single god that they believed in.cHumans were in a weird place, they were advanced enough to be established by miles, but they lacked the cohesion. They refused to give up the old ways, and the two hands-off Gods that had stepped up over the last 2000 years hadn't helped. \n\nDiluvian looked over the small blue planet and smiled when a god smiled the stars got bright, and they were beaming. Humanity was going to be the species that he used to crack the ascendant barrier, get an accolade that he led a species to a galactic presence, it was a good plaque to have on the office wall.\n\nThe god pointed his hand towards earth and slowly clenched it, the days turning to weeks as static built up in the sky; water was pulled from the ocean and nearly covered the planet in clouds. He could see the news stations speaking across the globe about the strange weather, about the need for rain, about the droughts.\n\nIn his left hand, he held the water of the world, in his right hand the lightning. He took a second to think about what he needed to say. The language of gods was unique in that nobody could misinterpret it, anybody could read it and know exactly what the writer intended. He relaxed his left hand, and the clouds across the world became black; The rain poured down, there was a mix of floods and salvation in the first day, and then mostly floods in the second. \n\nHe released his grip on the lightning and the planet cracked with thunder. Across the continents, in each place it needed to be, the lighting wrote a message in the ground. \n\n\"Find your god.\"\n\nAcross the world, the leaders met. All of them had read the message and saw the same thing. There was a new power in town, and the mortals had yet to impress him.\n\n\n______________________________________________\n\nDid you enjoy this? Probably not. Did you despite my best efforts? Then come over to /r/Jacksonwrites where nothing gets upvotes unless the story has already been going for 25000 words.\n\nEdits were made, nothing significant." ]	[ 4, 7, 7, 11, 104 ]	[ "1443910245", "1443930415", "1443932193", "1443917227", "1443891397" ]

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