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
	[WP] "Sir, I don't understand. Can you please explain to me how exactly a dog became President of the United States of America?"	12	[ "\"Sir, I do not understand. Can you please explain to me how exactly a dog became President of the United States of America?\" One of the many reporters pleaded on the front lawn of the White House. The Press Secretary stood silently, his mouth agape and unable to form a proper response. All his years in college and at work did not prepare him for this. \n\n\"N-No one knows. I wish I could answer you but I-\" He paused seeing off to the side, the new president. Wearing a suit jacket and donning the American Flag pin, the Golden Retriever president made its way to the podium. No one could remember what sort of things the president said during his campaign, as it has all became a mass mirage that no one could recall. It was as though the whole campaign was just a dream, that upon waking up, could not be remembered. Reguardless, the crowd of reporters silenced and stood in the presence of the new leader. \n\nPropping himself on two legs and leaning against the podium, the president was finally ready to explain himself. The world seemed to be holding its breathe, on edge and fully prepared to take in every word the Leader of the 1st World was about to say. \n\n\"Bow wow wow. Arf woof bow wow arf woof bow. Woof woof bow bow arf woof bow bow bow. Bark woof woof. Woof woof bark arf woof woof. Arf bark bark bow wow, woof woof arf bark. Woof woof woof bark woof woof. Bow wow woof woof arf woof. Arf arf bark woof bark woof woof. Bow wow arf bark. Woof woof woof, bark. Arf bark woof woof, bark woof woof...\" \n\nWhen the president finally stopped, the reporters all breathed a sigh of relief. \"Oh that makes sense.\" \"I get it now, okay.\" They all murmured to their colleagues, breaking into light smiles and giggles about how stupid they were to question the legitimacy of the new president. Finally, a senior reporter proclaimed, \"Hail to the Chief: President Richard P. Jackson Junior!!\" The reporters repeated and applauded. All of them seem to celebrate in good spirits as the president slunk off into the yard, where he defecated in triumph, surrounded by his bodyguards. ", "\"Well...\" He paused for a moment, \"To understand this properly, you have to first know my history.\"\n\n\"A long time ago, before I took the name Snowball because my fur is pretty and white, I was called Snuffles...\"\n\nSorry- I had to do it." ]	[ 3, 5 ]	[ "1448681003", "1448677046" ]
	[WP] It snowed while you were at work and now you are becoming increasingly alarmed as you discover a set of footprints that appear to be headed strait to your secluded home.	8	[ "I saw these rabbit like and turtle-looking toe prints in the snow one old rainish and whiteish day. They swooped and spun and shimmered in the ground. I could feel the rainbowish colours of the prints. They followed me and closed inside of me. I could feel them taking me away from my happy little home in the middle of a snow-cloud and away into Bad Place. In Bad Place, there was a Mean Man\n\nMean Man was a devil. And he, he thought that footprints were bestish and goodish things that I should celebrate like a bird who flew up, up into the sky! We celebrated fondly and merrily and told stories of frogs who could not be turned into footish prints! 10 days we intercepted and swooped and talked and mumbled foolishly. Then Mean Man died of terrible arthritis and back pain! I wept and swept aways all of my footish prints and all was BAD. Some of them lizard friends made me feel happier and I ended up in an ocean cave. It was a new home! I had furniture and chairs and long kitchens and happily smelling lizard bowls! \n\nBut one day, the footish prints had come back and haunted me spookily! So spooky, I cried in shouting! Returning memories flew at me and punched me in ears and things. I said yes, take me to the grass. The grass had flamingos and birds of all shapes and colors and personalities! I looked at them and they had nothing to do everyday, Sadly the killed and hunted and hinted to frogs who were in the habit of making footish prints in the snows on Sumterday mornings!\n\nI told them, a frog such as like had encountered me at about 12 o clockish on Sumterday yesterday! Footish prints were its speciality. And we all rejoined together, and we gave ourselves Human Names. I was the Person and they were the People. And machines roared in steaming and they watched as clocks zoomed and beeped and meeped and flew. We looked and hunted for footish prints and screamed when we found them! So we could communicate not in a befuddling way! But then there was a moon and it lightning struck us badly and we went underground. There was no more hunting nor screaming I tell you! We were unhappy as little bumbling clams. And so I went back to the little home in the cloud-town.", "Working construction is hard work, but it pays enough to put food in my hands. Unless it snows. Odd jobs get me by in the winter, just barely. But its more than what a lot of other people can say in this damn city.\n\nThey of course sent us off early. Didn't want us getting hurt on the job, they said. If they cared so much about our welfare then why are we being left to wonder the cold streets. At least they paid us for the work we'd done so far. Just barely enough for me to buy gas for my car. I can feel the stuff swishing around in its container.\n\nI've got a nice place. Warms me in the winter, cools me in the summer. It's nice and secluded from the rest of the city. I decide to take a shortcut to my home, an old alleyway where the ground wasn't salted over or shoveled. As I trudge through the snow, I notice a set of footprints accompanying me through the alley. I look to the direction they're going. They're turning the corner, heading straight to my home. Why would anybody else go down this path?\n\nI start rushing forward to the corner, afraid of what I'll see as I turn around it.\n\nAs soon as I see it, the gallon of oil falls from my hand. My home, vandalized! The windows smashed in, the heater ripped out, the trunk busted open, the tires slashed, the engine in dented pieces! Everything, ruined!", "Snow flurries gently floated through the air outside, drifting where the breeze carried them. The boss decided to let us out a bit earlier, probably feeling sorry for me. I mean I had a car, I just enjoyed jogging into work every morning. I put on my parka and headed out into the cold.\n\nCold was really an understatement. The air was frigid today. It was only three miles home but it was going to be an uncomfortable walk. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and began the trek home.\n\nJohn, my husband, had the day off today I think. I rubbed my hands together to get warm and hugged myself to brace against the wind. I hope he had the fire going because I was going to be an ice cube soon.\n\nThe snow had really picked up leaving a clean smooth white layer all across the ground. That is why it was curious when I turned down my mile long driveway to see one set of footprints going towards my house. There was nothing but my house down this path.\n\nI started to walk faster home. The snow had really picked up and the wind was stinging my face as my mind raced. The footprints were about the same size as mine. Could John be cheating on me? I mean there was that one time, but it was so long ago. We recovered from that. John wouldn’t...would he?\n\nMy house appeared through the trees as I got closer. The snow had really started to come down now. I could barely make out the outline of the boot prints walking up to the front porch. I made my way up to the front door and slowly opened it. Creeping inside, I gently closed the door and snuck into the living room.\n\nI felt my heart sink. I could see their heads over the couch, as they cuddled in the warmth of the fire. I grabbed a cast iron skillet off the stove and walked up behind them slowly. John looked up at me in terror. I had caught him cheating on me again.\n\n“Who the fuck are you?!” John yelled in rage. “Melissa? I’m calling the police.”\n\nI brought the pan down on her head. There was a sickening crack, and she slumped over. John tackled me and held me down.\n“Angie are you okay honey? I swear to god if you killed my wife I will end you here myself!” John was screaming nonsense. I was his wife. John pulled out his cell phone to call the police while pinning me to the ground with his legs. I struggled to reach the pan while he was distracted.\n\nMy hand wrapped around the handle before bringing it to his temple knocking him off of me. John lay on the ground unconscious. I stood up and walked around the couch to see this bitch. It was the same one he had cheated on me with a year ago, and she wasn’t breathing.\n\nI spit on her before looking around the house. I couldn’t believe it! John had the nerve to replace all our pictures together with pictures of them. Sirens blared in the distance. When the police get here they will understand what happened." ]	[ 1, 1, 3 ]	[ "1448706546", "1448726990", "1448716447" ]
	[WP] You have a very mundane talent, so mundane that you've never shown it to anyone. The first time you do, as a party trick, you're told that your talent is physically impossible.	616	[ "I can read your fortune without cracking the cookie. Looksie. Without cracking the cookie. I can read your mind, but only one fortune cookie at a time. Hey! That's my schtick.. Give me five seconds. Give me all the money in your bank accounts. Gimme your luck, gimme your attention. You are lucky today, don't forget. Also I only read and speak Englsih and broken at that. And it's funny to me. I am the dragon if you want your fortune count to 3.\n Let's just go our ways and not brag to one another. Pretend I'm a know it all and don't even look my way. No, I don't eat them or sneak a peek or fold them raw. It's a trick I pull to make panties wet then off. If you don't like it, we don't have to speak at all.", "Edit: Want to read this in [third-person form](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1PqTdp3TVX4dDzyaJLbBWiSH7VO8NoN-wJCVI9s33ChU/edit?usp=sharing) instead? I'm not sure which is better.\n\n-----\n\nWe all watched in \"amazement\" as Tom produced the King of Hearts, just like he said he would. It wasn't that he did the trick wrong or anything, I've just never been very in to these silly magic tricks. Or parties for that matter, but somehow I was here.\n\n\"What about you, Stanley, do you know any tricks?\" asked Tom, directing the attention to me, though I'd sooner it go to anyone but me.\n\n\"Well, I know something, but it's pretty lame-\"\n\n\"Oh, c'mon, Stanley! Stanley!\" Tom started as the rest joined in, ignoring my pleas to stop. Why did I ever open my mouth? Must've been the second beer.\n\n\"Ok, fine!\" I said, quieting the immensely annoying crowd. \"Does anyone have a...gyroscope, or a really smooth globe or something like that? Something that spins really easily?\"\n\n\"I think I have a gyroscope somewhere, but...Will a compass work? It's a good one, promise.\" said Bill, our host.\n\n\"Yeah, that should do.\"\n\n\"Be right back.\"\n\nAll eyes uncomfortably on me, I said I'd rather show them than tell them what my trick was. How long was Bill going to be? Ah, finally.\n\n\"Here it is.\" he said, setting it on the coffee table in front of me. I waited for the needle to swing North. Then, I held my hand over it and made it swing a few degrees East.\n\n\"You're right, it was lame!\" shouted one heckler, and a second \"Where's your magnet?\" Another guest, only half as irritating as the rest, said, \"Can you go the other way?\"\n\nI shot an angry look at the first heckler, then swung it West about the same amount, and said \"No, it's not about being a magnet, I can just change some stuff about things that can spin. But just a little bit. Like this...\" I said, going over to a desk chair that can spin.\n\nI sat in it, and said, \"normally, if I spin around in the chair like this,\" tucking my arms in, \"and then put my arms out, I'll slow down,\" and demonstrated. \"But if I want to, I can stay fast.\"\n\nSo, just like I promised, I spun. Woopty-doo. Most of the other guests were suitably unimpressed, but one Jack Simpson, a physics major and usually a quiet (and thus, usually-tolerable) man, his eyes went wide and he said, \"How are you doing that?! That's not possible!\"\n\n\"I don't know, I just..do?\"\n\n\"No, seriously Stanley, only tell me if you want to keep up the illusion, but I have to know!\"\n\n\"I'm not hiding anything, honest. I've just always been able to do that stuff...\" I said, growing increasingly uneasy at his behavior.\n\n\"That's not supposed to be physically possible! It looks like you're violating the conservation of angular momentum, which fits with what you said about it being spinning things. But what could the implications of this be? I don't even know, I'd have to talk to my professor and see what this could mean. Will it rewrite our laws of physics or give us control over the universe or be just a useless trick? No, it's got to mean something...\" he droned on, staring off into space and talking excitedly more to himself than anyone else. At least he had drawn most of the attention of the crowd away from me for a little while. I took that opportunity to quietly leave the party before things got any weirder. I imagine he was quite annoying for a long while, but I had no interest in finding out firsthand.", "Everyone mused aloud as Chuck showed off his telekinetic powers, causing an arrangement of silverware to dance through the air. I watched on calmly, although I wasn't really paying much attention. it had been two years since my brother died in the car crash, his body was taken away from the scene by two men in suits and was returned at the funeral procession with his head reattached properly. This marked the second year without my older brother, and I was far from our home in Portland.\n\n\"Thank you!\" chuck flamboyantly bowed, wiping the sweat from his dark skin. \"Thank you Sydney, I'm here 'till the crime wave settles!\"\n\n\"So it's different each day?\" A girl who introduced herself as Kelly asked.\n\n\"It cycles between around thirteen powers and has varying levels of power for each.\" chuck corrected, \"but yeah, pretty much a new set of powers each day, including flight for this week luckily!\"\n\nThe crew of Hero Relief from the US and Canada muttered excitedly in awe. I looked over to Ben, who was changing focus between his newfangled mobile smart phone and the group. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat as if to bring attention to himself.\n\n\"Might I interest you in my friend Martin?\" Ben inquired, gesturing to me on his left with an outwardly twisted pale wrist and two fingers, his hand wrapped around his device.\n\n\"Okay I'll bite!\" Chuck said, \"What's this hottie's power?\"\n\n\"Go on then Martin.\" ben encouraged.\n\nI snapped to focus and looked around the group in the hotel penthouse common area. Each face eagerly leaned forward to hear what had to be said. \"Do I have to?\" I asked, \"I mean, I can't really explain it and it's not all that great of a power.\"\n\n\"C'mon Martin!\" Chuck begged, pouting with a large lower lip.\n\n\"Alright.\" I caved, readily showing my reluctant expression. \"Everyone to the bathroom, Ben-\"\n\n\"Don't worry,\" Ben reassured, giving a big toothy grin as people filed over to the main bathroom. \"I'll get the things, I'll even make sure it's a surprise.\"\n\n\"and this time, don't lie to me about the date.\" I snapped. \"Damn near had a heart attack the last time when you added eight years claiming Y2K had happened.\"\n\n\"yeah yeah, see you there.\" he said, heading off to the boy's side of the penthouse. I laid back on the hardwood floor and took a deep breath, trying to taste the texture of the air.\n\n\"Can you give a hint?\" a girl who stayed behind asked. I looked up to see Heather, From Toronto, Canada. she looked on curiously as she brushed her dirty blonde hair out of her eyes. \"Something a little more substantial?\"\n\n\"This isn't a game of charades.\" I said harshly as a faintly metallic scent filled the air. granted I wasn't upset at her, I was upset at myself for another reason. \"It's not something I'm proud of or enjoy. This is my own personal hell, and you want to make it into a guessing game? wait your turn.\"\n\nher face turned from one of seduction and enjoyment to one of fear and shock, followed by puzzlement. \"your nose is bleeding.\" she stated dumbly.\n\n\"There's your first preview I guess,\" I said, casually wiping away the blood. I stood up and headed over to the bathroom. \"see the show as it unfolds why don't you.\"\n\nI walked into the bathroom and made a beeline for the bath tub snapping my fingers to get the guy in it out. he stumbled as he stood up, steadying himself against the wall mirror before stepping out and gesturing me to proceed as I wished. I stepped over the edge and kneeled in the tub, facing the mirror and watching everyone through it as they giddily chattered about their hypotheses and intuitions. Heather walked across the room to stand with kelly and said something indistinguishable from the chatter.\n\nAs if on cue, ben entered the room with his hands in his coat pockets. \"Ladies and gentlemen before we begin, I suggest you all not panic at any point during this demonstration.\" he began the disclaimers. \"Additionally, if you feel uneasy or are triggered by violence, I suggest you leave immediately, for this is not for the light of heart.\" One girl left the room, shortly followed by a guy.\n\nBen walked up behind me and tapped his left hand on my right shoulder, and so I turned forty five degrees to the right for maximum effect. \"Don't make me correct this.\" I hissed under my breath.\n\n\"Behold!\" He bellowed as he drew a pocket knife from his pocket, swiftly swiping the blade back and forth across my neck.\n\nMy vision tensed and my ears cut the noise as the muscles in my jaw and neck contracted violently and the blood sprayed in front of me. I felt my balance going and so reached out my left hand to steady myself on the mirror as the images of horrified faces faded from the mirror. My body made attempts at coughing but instead, more blood splattered over the mirror and into the bathtub as the room began to spin and drop it's temperature difference. After a few short moments I could no longer feel my toes, and my vision had faded to black.\n\n<>", "\"Hey Eric\", Jess said with that same look in her eyes that I desperately longed to be meant for me. Some background: Jess and I were at one point high-school sweethearts. We spent three years fanatically lusting for each other, neither of us stopping to ever take a breath; our love was intense - but it was also the best thing to have happened to me. During college we went our separate ways, she moved to New York to become a cardiac-surgeon, I stayed in California. We kept in touch via all too infrequent emails, it felt like there was still a spark, but I had always been too scared to act upon it. Tonight was my chance. Tonight we were both together for the first time in seven years. Tonight I knew the spark wasn't just in my head.\n\n\"Are you sure you really want me to do this?\", I sheepishly replied.\n\n\"Yes!\", belligerently the drunken crowd commanded.\n\n\"You always had the best magic tricks\", Jess exclaimed. \n\n\"This one isn't so much a magic trick, it's more of a ...umm..., basically, I can put my entire foot in my mouth\", I replied. Outcries of disgust and scepticism circumnavigated the room, stopped abruptly by a chant of \"Do it! Do it! Do it!\".\n\n\"Here it goes\"! Slowly, while grinning, I take my shoe and sock off and take a seat on the chair that has been brought into the centre of the circle. I grasp my foot in my hand and raise it up to my open mouth. All the while, I maintain eye contact with Jess, beautiful Jess. Momentum and energy builds throughout the the room, cheers start, people whistle. First, the toes, at this point I'm committed. Quickly I try to push the rest of my foot in. This was a mistake. The foot is expelled from my mouth along with about a litre of vomit, which ends up covering Jess from head to toe. A harsh silence fills the room, everyone aghast, some quick to take pictures. Except Jess. She stands frozen, eyes locked on me, chunks of last night's pizza sliding down her cheek. I blew it - literally. ", "\"Wait, wait, wait,\" Heather said, raising an eyebrow. She crossed her arms over her large chest. \"What do you mean you can do that? It's physically impossible.\n\nI shrugged. \"I mean, it's just something I can do. I've been able to do it since I was a kid.\" I grin. \"My mom sure as hell loved it.\"\n\nJosh laughed, stroking his neck beard with his cheetoo-dust-covered fingers. He tipped his fedora. \"What, can you break your arms on command?\"\n\nWe both stared at him strangely. Josh was a socially awkward guy, and neither of us had a clue what he was talking about. He didn't hear me talk about my ability to Heather, and I don't know where he got that idea from. Josh just mumbled to himself something about a guy named Bernie, and went back to browsing his Android phone.\n\n\"Um, no,\" I said, biting my lip nervously. \"But I can turn water into whine.\"\n\nNicole was nearby, and apparently heard my talking. \"Oh yeah?\" she said, snapping her bubble gum. \"Then why do we always pay for booze then? Hmm?\" She blew a bubble and smacked it with her crimson lips.\n\nI shrugged. \"It's just... I didn't think it was a big deal, ya know?\"\n\nHannah, our religious friend of the group, touched my shoulder. \"You shouldn't joke about such abilities. Claiming to have the abilities of Our Lord is blasphemous!\"\n\nI believed in God, but I wasn't even close to religious as Hannah was. \"Oh, no. I'm not claiming to be God, Hannah. But I can do that,\" I told her.\n\n\"Prove it then,\" Ahmed said with a toothy grin. \n\nI smirked. \"Okay, then. Someone get me some water!\"\n\nNicole handed me a bottled water. I thanked her and grasped the bottle firmly. I squeezed it on the top and bottom ends, and then shook it furiously. I rubbed my palms all over it and then tossed it in the air. The clear water started to get pink. Then blood red. Then it turned a dark, crimson color, almost matching Nicole's lips. And the finally, it was as whine-colored as... whine. Even with my abilities, I still don't know any whines. They all taste the same. \n\n\"Holy shit!\" Heather and Nicole said at the same time, their mouths agape.\n\nHannah clutched the cross on around her neck, trembling.\n\nAhmed let out a deep, throaty laugh and clapped his hands. \n\n\"You, like, might me the second coming!\" Heather told me, laughing. \n\nJosh wasn't impressed. \"Okay, what's the trick, then? You can't just do that. It's physically impossible!\"\n\nI shrugged. \"I don't know, dude. I just can.\"\n\nOver the next few hours, the party ended as abruptly and awkwardly as this writing prompt. ", "\"Oh, come on. Everyone can do something. Chrissake, Jim hamboned for his talent, and that's just crap. You've gotta be able to do something cool\". \nTruth was, though, I never really tried anything before really. I never was interested in art or music, and never had any athleticism either. I wasn't any good at juggling, I was an OK cook at best, and really couldn't hum, let alone sing. About the only thing I really excelled at was work, and how demanding was it to run an industrial paper shredder?\n\n\n\"Really, I can't think of anything Steve,\" I protested. \"I didn't even sign up for this stupid seminar.\"\n\n\n\"Well, none of us did. Stupid 'team building' programs suck. We all get along, don't we?\" Steve protested. \"Come on, just get up and like, I dunno, hop on one leg in a circle. Anything to get this over with.\"\n\n\n\"Is someone still shy?\" asked the coordinator. \"Come one, everyone has something unique to contribute! Let's see how this star shines!\"\n\n\n\"God, all right,\" I grumbled. \"Ummmm...\"\n\"We believe in you!\" our smarmy little manager said. \"Don't let us all down in front of the veep!\"\n\"Ugh, fine. I guess I got this little trick I do to take out the trash, but I don't think it really impressive. Um. Anyone got some trash they need to get rid of?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, my last performance review!\" someone shouted from the back, followed by a smattering of laughter. Oh, what a riot we were.\n\n\n\"OK, there's a trash can; thanks Cindy. All right, everyone watch, here we go,\" I said as I pushed the trash away. \"Yeah, not very impressive, I know,\" I mumbled to silence. And more silence. Finally, it got uncomfortable. \"What? You wanted me to participate; I never said it was a good talent, OK?\"\n\n\n\"How did you do that,\" whispered Jeff, our VP of operations. \"What did you do?\"\n\n\n\"What? I just, you know, pushed it away.\"\n\n\n\"Away? Away from what?!\"\n\n\n\"You know; away from everything.\"\n\n\n\"What, like, everything? All at once?\"\n\n\n\"Well...yeah. Saves me a ton of time on taking out the trash.\"\n\n\n\"Son,\" said Jeff, \"screw this seminar. We need to talk about your new raise, and that little bit of magic you can do.\"\n", "\"Damnit!\" I yelled, as Karl's drink ran down my arm. \"Dude, what the hell?\"\n\n\"Oh man, sorry,\" he said, squinting at me through red, half-closed eyes. I could smell the weed on his breath, and also on the skunky jacket he always wore when he smoked and, of course, never washed.\n\n\"Ooooooh! Party foul!\" Yelled Pat. \"You're cut off!\"\n\nKarl nodded, muttering 'yeah, yeah,' and sauntered into another room, where I saw him pour and down a shot of absinthe.\n\n\"As for you,\" said Pat, \"you can't let that beer go to waste.\"\n\nI looked down at my arm, where the beer had splashed from my elbow to my shoulder, and then brought my elbow up and began to lick the beer from it. I noticed, suddenly, that party had gone to silence - well, had gone to only dubstep instead of dubstep with people yelling over it - and everyone was staring at me. Pat muttered \"whoa...,\" though it sounded more like \"wubb...,\" again, because of the dubstep.\n\n\"Dude,\" this cute girl yelled into my ear, \"I read this thing once that said that people can't lick their elbows! That's crazy!\"\n\n\"Haha,\" I said. I didn't know what else to say, because she was really pretty, and I was really bad with girls.\n\nShe leaned into my ear again, and yelled \"what else can you lick?\"\n\n\"Haha,\" I said, and then I really didn't know what to say. Out of the corner of my eye, just out of sight of the girl, I saw Karl grinning like and idiot and humping the air at me.", "\"Uhm\"\n\nEveryone at the house party was staring at me.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You shouldn't be able to do that\"\n\n\"Do what this?\"\n\nEveryone recoiled.\n\n\"No don't do it again\"\n\n\"What it's not that…\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"It's weird. It's like, you know when you're in class, and some raises their hand and their double jointed so their arm just shoots of like this?\"\n\n\"Yeah\"\n\n\"If that situation were here it would be like what the fuck man\"\n\n\"It's really not that out of the ordinary\"\n\n\"Show of hands who can do that\"\n\nNo one raised their hand. I slowly began to raise mine.\n\n\"No not you\"\n\n\"What? It has nothing to do with my hand\"\n\n\"It might though\"\n\n\"It doesn't\"\n\n\"Well that's not a risk I'm willing to take. So you know enjoy the party, mingle, just stick to the laws of physics. It's not that hard\"\n\n\"Fine\"\n\n\"Fuck it, one more time\"", "\"Come on show it to us\" they all said in unison\n\n\"It's so lame\" I said\n\n\"I gotta see it now\" Suzy said leaning over the table. \n\n\"It's just gonna freak you guys out\" I said but I knew I was gonna cave.\n\n\"I bet it's bullshit\" Carrie remarked\n\n\"Shut up Carrie I can do it it's just super lame\".\n\n\"Bullshit\" Josh said under his breath\"\n\n\"Fine give me something metal\" I began rubbing my arms together. \"So I just rub my hairy arms together \" I said through heavy breathing. \"And I just...\" ZZZZZZZTTT. \n\n\"HOLY SHIT!\" Josh shouted\n\n\"What the fuck was that?\" Suzy shouted. Our group began to draw stares of the other bar patrons.\n\n\"Guys it's just static electricity. What's the big deal?\" I asked\n\n\"Dude that's not static. Look at that fucking spoon it's melted.\" Carrie gestured to the now almost unrecognizable spoon.\n\n\"Guys it's just static.\" I was getting really annoyed.\n\n\"Static doesn't obliterate spoons man.\" Josh said\n\n\"Tesla coil maybe\" Carrie said still staring at the spoon.\n\n\"Look, guys i'm gonna go.\" I began getting up.\n\n\"No wait\" Suzy put her hand on my car keys.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"We need to tell a scientist or something.\" Carrie interrupted.\n\n\"Carrie we don't need a fucking scientist to explain static electricity.\" I got up and left. \"What the fuck was that?\" I thought. It was supposed to be a little zap.", "lots of people have silly little tricks they can do with their hands. you can wiggle your fingers in strange ways, bend them in any sort of direction. you can make your thumb touch your wrist or you can bend your whole hand at the wrist. so many kids in my grade school did all sorts of those things and they're so much better than my trick. its been years since I've done it but i was a little drunk at the time and there were girls that wanted to see some tricks so i did it. Instead of the vague interest or more likely disinterest i had expected i was met with screaming. All i did was twist my index and middle finger around so that they changed places and from the way they were acting it sounded like i'd broken my hand. even after popping them back into place everyone didn't calm down. all of my bones are fine and i have full motor control, I'd like to leave this hospital but they want to take some X-rays of my hand while I've done the trick.", "Tom sat in the corner of the cell, lip busted and eye quickly swelling shut. Peering out from his good eye, he saw the towering cellmate strutting over towards him, lips moving, tongue flying, but Tom couldn't hear what he was saying over the ruckus the other men were making. \n\n\"Help!\" Tom yelled, letting his head loll to the side, towards the officer who was struggling to get the cell door open. There was another officer standing outside the bars, stun gun drawn and pointed at the attacking cellmate, but he wasn't firing the damn gun for some reason. \n\nThe attacker bent down in front of Tom, exhaling putrid breath into his face before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up from the ground. \n\n\"This is what I do to murderers,\" the attacker said. \n\nIn a last ditch effort, Tom placed his hand on the attacker's throat. The man laughed at Tom's weak grip, and then froze.\n\n*\n\nEarlier that night \n\nTom stayed glued to the outer edges of the party. Jeffrey had quickly disappeared after telling Tom over and over, \"Don't worry man, I'll show you around, show you some folks, it'll be okay.\"\n\nJeffrey was a liar, and nowhere to be found. \n\nTom swallowed dry saliva and tried to bring his pulse down to a level that he didn't think others would be able to hear. It pounded hard in his ears, surely hard enough that someone walking by would be able to sense it. \n\nHe knew that was probably impossible, but the thought seemed real to him in the moment as social anxiety wormed its long thin fingers down his skull and into his brain like icy tendrils, freezing him in place, up against the wall. \n\n\"Hey man, you want a drink?\"\n\n\"Huh?\" Tom said, breaking his focus from the ceiling where it had been most of the night.\n\n\"I said, you want a drink?\" A shorter guy wearing a turtleneck sweater said. It was in the middle of July, but for some reason he was wearing a sweater with the sleeves cut off, shorts, and flip flops. \n\n\"Uh, yeah, that would be nice.\"\n\n\"C'mon man,\" the guy said, turning and weaving his way through the groups of people collected throughout the house. \n\nWithout a word, Tom followed the guy towards the kitchen, where there were cases of assorted beer sitting on the counter. \n\n\"Ah, what the fuck, did no one put any of this in the fridge?\" The guy said.\n\n\"Fridge is out,\" another guy said. \n\n\"Shit, hey man, you don't mind if it's a little warm is it?\" \n\n\"No, not at all,\" Tom said. \n\nThe guy in the sweater ripped open one of the cases and pulled out two bottles, handing them to Tom. Tom opened his mouth to say that he really only wanted one, but the guy interrupted him, \n\n\"By the way, name is Derek, but the frat calls me Deek. You can call me either or,\" he said, turning away and grabbing two more bottles from the case.\n\n\"Oh, thanks, name is Tom.\" \n\n\"Nice to meet you Tom,\" Derek said, \"Now come on, let's go find some gals to give a beer to, huh?\"\n\n\"Oh, oh, yeah, sure,\" Tom said, now understanding why Derek had given him two beers. \n\nThey were definitely warm in Tom's hands. He frowned; he wasn't much of a beer drinker to begin with, and definitely didn't want to drink one that was hot. As they snaked in and out of the party crowd, Tom focused on the beers. Focused on taking the heat out of them. Focusing on that helped calm his nerves as he followed Derek through the crowd. \n\n\"Heeeey,\" Derek said, stopping at a pack of three girls, all standing against the wall empty-handed. \"Y'all want a beer?\" \n\n\"Yeah, I want one!\" \n\n\"Me too!\"\n\n\"Same,\" the third one said, looking Tom up and down. He didn't realize it but his hands were slightly shaking. \n\n\"Here,\" Derek said, handing his two beers to two gals. \n\n\"Oh,\" the first one said, \"it's hot.\"\n\n\"Bleh,\" said the second. \n\n\"Oh great, what the hell Derek?\" The third girl said, reaching towards Tom. \n\nIt took Tom a few awkward seconds, but then he realized he was supposed to hand over a beer. \n\n\"Hey hey hey, it's not my fridge, I-\n\n\"It's not hot,\" the third girl said, looking at the beer. \"It's actually ice cold.\" \n\n\"Huh?\" Derek said. \n\nTom quickly flustered and stuttered over his words, \"Oh yeah, I took some of the heat out of it, I thought it was too hot too.\"\n\nDerek and the girls looked at him.\n\n\"You did what?\" Derek said, reaching for the beer the third girl held. \n\n\"I took the heat out-\n\n\"Holy shit,\" Derek said. \"How'd, what, what did you do?\" He said, looking back at the kitchen and where they had walked through. \"This was hotter than Satan's piss when I handed it to you.\"\n\n\"I just, uh, I just took the heat out of it.\"\n\nThe third girl spoke out, \"What do you mean you took the heat out of it?\"\n\n\"Uh, I just, I don't know.\"\n\nDerek grabbed a guy who was walking by, obviously a friend. \"Hey, your beer hot?\" \n\n\"Yeah, why what's up man? Hey laaaadies..\" The guy said.\n\nWithout a warning, Derek grabbed the beer out of his friend's hand and shoved it into Tom's free hand. \n\n\"Do it with this one Tom, do it,\" Derek said, on the verge of hysteria. \n\n\"Uh, okay, I didn't think it was that big a deal, I mean,\" \n\n\"Just do it.\"\n\nTom held the beer in his hand, focused on it, and before the groups eyes, the bottle began to cloud.\n\n\"What the fuuuuuuck,\" Derek's friend gasped, reaching and grabbing the beer out of Tom's hand. \"It's cold!\" He took a sip from it, \"Oh my god it has chunks of ice in it.\"\n\nTom's heart was pounding from excitement. \n\n\"How are you doing that?\" Derek asked, almost yelled. \n\n\"It's just, I don't know, something I've been able to do.\" \n\nThe third girl stepped forward, holding out her hand. \n\n\"Show me how you do it, do it to my hand.\" \n\n\"I don't know, I don't know if I can do it again, I mean,\" \n\n\"Just do it man,\" Derek said, also holding out his hand. \n\nTom held the beer bottle up, \"I can only do one at a time,\" he said, almost stuttering from nerves. \n\nDerek's friend grabbed it out of his hand, \"I'll hold it for you, do it, do it to their hands.\"\n\n\"Okay, I'll try.\"\n\nTom wiped the sweat from his hands on his jeans, and took Derek's hand in his left, and the third girl's hand in his right. He focused on both of their hands, and concentrated. \n\n\"Holy shit,\" Derek said, \"It's cold!\"\n\n\"Oh my god,\" the third girl said. \n\nShe squeezed his hand tightly, causing him to look away from the ground and into her eyes. She was smiling, and now he was smiling. \n\n\"Cool huh?\" he whispered.\n\nShe nodded, and continued to nod. The smile stayed on her face, but her brow was starting to furl. \n\n\"Derek?\" Someone said. Tom wasn't sure if it was one of the girls or if it was the guy who was holding his beer. He was too busy looking into her eyes. Her lips were still smiling, but her eyes weren't. \n\nTom let go, but Derek and the third girl still held their hands out, as if stuck in some sort of handshake pose. He looked down at their hands, and saw that there was frost accumulating on their fingertips. Their palms were red, and the red was spreading.\n\nUnbeknownst to Tom or anyone else in the party, Derek and the third girl's heart was having holes poked through it by tiny shards of frozen blood. The frozen blood was pumped from the heart and throughout their body, like some sort of icy venom, ripping holes in veins and arteries, destroying their lungs. \n\nDerek sputtered and coughed, spraying blood on his chin and onto Tom. \n\nTom wiped his face and looked at the girl. Tears of blood were running down her cheeks.\n\n\"Oh, I must've did too much, I'm sorry, I didn't know that would happen.\"\n\nBoth Derek and the girl fell over backwards. Derek landing hard on the house floor, and the girl falling into her two friends. Both let out shrieks as they felt how cold her skin was against theirs. \n\n\"What the fuck?!\" Derek's friend yelled, grabbing Tom by the collar.\n\n\n\nThe attacker holding Tom against the wall coughed, spraying blood into Tom's face. ", "More parts to the story here https://www.reddit.com/r/CharliesWildAdventure/ (you may be lost without it..or with it to be honest with you!)\n____\n\nCharlie took a hit off his bong and blew a perfectly square puff of smoke.\n\n“What in the world. How did you do that?” Jenn asked\n\n“Do what? Blow a square?” He blew a triangle out.\n\n“Okay Charlie. I don’t understand how you’re doing this. That’s not humanly possible. You can’t just do that.”\n\nCharlie shrugged. “I can do other shapes. It’s not really hard, watch.” Charlie managed to blow out a perfectly square puff of smoke. It drifted across the room. Jenn blinked.\n\n“You’re breaking physics again Charlie. You shouldn’t be able to do this! How are you able to do this?!”\n\n“Jesus taught me back in college.”\n\n“You, in college? I think that is more impressive than what you’re doing with the smoke to be honest.”\n\n“Oh yeah? Watch this!” Charlie took a deep puff, and blew a four dimensional cube. The tesseract drifted across the room before ripping a hole in the space time continuum. A man in a Domino's uniform stepped through it.\n\n“Oh man! The pizza is here!” Charlie got up and paid the guy. He stepped back into the portal and it disappeared.", "\"All right, so it goes a little something like this,\" I said. I'd just been dared to do something that I didn't think people would be able to recreate. Yeah, I know that truth or date was a stupid game for a 20-year-old to be playing, but we were trying to hook up Jason and Erika so it was part of the plan. Also, yes I know that it's truth or dare, but truth or date is what we call it when we are attempting to play matchmaker.\n\n\"Just get on with it.\"\n\n\"Then light the fucking candle,\" I snapped. I slurred the end of my words as Jason walked over to light the candle. I was hoping to get out of doing this trick but for some reason Erika had one in her room. So here I was. After what seemed like eons Jason lit the candle, \"See how hard was that?\"\n\n\"Just do the thing,\" Erika cut in.\n\n\"Alright,\" I sighed the lullaby that my mother had sung me when I a child under my breath. It was a bunch of gibberish but it helped my focus. I snapped my fingers at the end of it. the fire went out.\n\n\"The fuck, that candle went out.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I put it out.\"\n\n\"No you didn't, here man,\" Jason lit the candle again.\n\nI narrowed my eyes, focusing on my aim and snapped my fingers. Boom, fire went out.\n\n\"What the fuck,\" Erika cut in. She sounded more scared than impressed.\n\n\"I'm just like snapping the wind at it.\"\n\n\"That's not how that works.\"\n\n\"It's working isn't it?\"\n\n\"Light it again,\" Erika said. Jason complied because he had a crush on her and he was a pansy.\n\nI rolled my eyes and snapped my fingers again, the candle went out. It wasn't a big deal and I didn't get why they were making such a racket about it.\n\n\"Dude that's not humanly possible.\"\n\n\"I'm doing it.\"\n\n\"What's the trick?\"\n\n\"I snap my finger in the right way.\"\n\n\"Show me,\" Jason said. He lit the candle and walked over to me. I moved his arm to the right place and told him to snap. He did and nothing happened, \"See, it doesn't work.\"\n\n\"You're just doing it wrong,\" I argued, \"if you do it at the right angle.\"\n\n\"Man, it's not working.\" He started snapping wildly each one was off on the form. I grabbed his hand.\n\n\"Like this,\" I said, this time I used my left hand. The fire flickered away again. \n\n\"Got it,\" Erika shouted, \"I'm gonna post that to the school facebook page.\"\n\n\"What?\" I asked.\n\n\"It's cool, I'm just gonna show it off.\"\n\n\"Whatever man.\" I said. We kept going with the game of truth or dare after that, we were unsuccessful in getting Jason and Erika to hook up. Sometimes it just didn't work out. The video had gotten 3.9 million views by the time we woke up the next morning.", "\"Hey everyone, watch what Jen can do!\"\n\nThe night has reached the point when standing up is problematic. We have given up on the facade of being a sophisticated, standing party that we put up at the beginning of the night. Now we're splayed out on the couches and floor. This lazy, increasingly loud occupation is punctuated by a frequent relay race to the restroom.\n\nI return from my own trip and pass the baton with a nod and a jerk of my thumb to the bathroom, indicating its vacancy as I sink down to an unoccupied patch of carpet.\n\nJen stops giggling and composes herself for a moment, to stick her tongue out at us and roll it up at the sides.\n\nThis sets off a wave of laughter and monkey-see-monkey-do as everyone around our circle tries to roll their tongues. The half that can't, either protest indignantly or praise with the enthusiastic awe of the intoxicated at the half of us that can.\n\n\"Oh yeah? You think that's somethin'?\" Todd slurs and sways. \"Watch this!\" He swings his arm for a few seconds to loosen up and stretch, before bringing it up, craning his neck, and sticking out his tongue to lick his elbow.\n\nA cacophony of applause. A few of us even rise to give him a standing ovation before realizing the precarious predicament of maintaining balance in a slowly spinning room, and instead returning to the safety of being reclined.\n\nA quiet voice says, \"I can do that too.\" Allie is a bit meek, even compared to me, but is able to reproduce's Todd's odd talent to an even more enthusiastic response as the room chants her name. \"Allie! Allie! Aliie!\"\n\nJim takes a huge swig of beer from his red dixie cup and catches my attention. \"Duuuude you gotta show them.\"\n\nI scoff at him and brush him off, but he persists. \"Show emmmm. Cmon you gotta DO it. You're always so quiet anyway. This is your chance to get some attention! Cmon, pleaaaase?\"\n\n\"Alright fine.\" I mutter at him before calling the party's attention. \"Hey guys, check this out.\"\n\nI tentatively raise my right hand to my left shoulder and tickle my own armpit before flinching and giggling.\n\nThe room pauses for a second before roaring with laughter at my silly, mundane talent. Everyone is satisfactorily amused, except Tim, who wears a concerned expression, eyebrows furrowed at me. Tim is in med school, so being stressed and grumpy is standard fare for him nowadays. However, his worried squinting is in drastic contrast to his relaxed delight just a second before.\n\n\"Hey man, how long have you been able to do that? You know most people can't do that right?\" He asks gently, as the room subsides to listen in.\n\n\"I dunno, like maybe a couple years now? It kinda just came up.\" I get defensive; Tim's concerned stare is harshing my buzz. \"I must have shown it to some of you before.\" I scan the room looking for backup and point at Jim on the couch. \"Look, Jim knows about it. He's the one who told me to do it just now.\"\n\nThe room is completely silent now, every pair of eyes follows my finger to Jim on the couch.\n\n\"Uhhhh, there's no one there Mike.\" Tim looks back at me. \"Hey uh, Mike. Being ticklish is a result of your brain responding to external stimuli. Most people can't tickle themselves, since the brain filters out physical motions that are self-initiated.\" Tim's demeanor and vocabulary has become much too sober for his drink count tonight; something is amiss.\n\nHe continues, \"The brain is really good at filtering out self-created stimuli so you can pay more attention to and react to external stimuli. That's why you can't tickle yourself, cause you're the one doing it and your brain knows that. The only people who can tickle themselves have brain dysfunction that causes them to be unable to recognize their own actions being connected to the resulting stimuli...\" \n\nHe glances at the couch where Jim is sitting, and now grinning maniacally at me. \"...It's usually caused by schizophrenia.\"", "I remember watching a video where a guy would bend spoons. He had a weird accent and I recall thinking he was oddly handsome, in his 80s clothes and 80s hair. But spoons weren't the only thing he could do amazing things with - he could make objects rotate without touching them, bend house keys, describe hidden pictures and all manner of other simple tricks. \nHis name of course, was Uri Geller. \nNo one in my family ever had any doubt he was a charlatan - that these 'feats' were nothing more that sleight of hand or trickery. My sister and I would play at these games, trying to duplicate the 'powers' of Mr Geller - and over time we figured out our own ways to cheat and make the impossible seem possible. \nBut as we grew older, both of us forgot about Uri and his spoons and became more enamoured of boy bands and celebrities. \nThe tricks that we perfected though, I never forgot. They were calming, soothing - and sometimes I would practice them when I was stressed or anxious; the familiar forms relaxing my knotted thoughts.\n\n&nbsp; \nThe party wasn't going well. \nFar too many people crowded the apartment and things were too loud. Protectively holding my drink to my chest, I made my way to the kitchen, looking for my bestie, Jess. \n\"You seen Jess?\" I yelled to one of the guys near the fridge. \nHe just shrugged, I wasn't even sure he'd heard what I said. The kitchen led to one of the balcony doors and I found Jess out there, getting some air - or so I thought. \n\"Jess?\" \nAs she turned her carefully made-up face to me, I knew something was wrong. Tear-tracks marked the contouring blush and suspicious blurs surrounded her eyes. She'd been crying out here, alone. \n\"Oh Jess.\" \nSobbing, she let me enfold her in a hug, words hiccuping into my shoulder, \n\"He dumped me, Sara. In front of the others.\" \n\"Oh shit honey, I'm so fucking sorry! I should have been there for you.\" \nUntangling herself she sniffed and wiped her nose on a napkin. \n\"No, you weren't to know. You were having a good time - my shit shouldn't ruin that.\" \n\"Seriously? This is the worst party. I've barely spoken to anyone.\" \nShe blinked, dabbing at the corners of her eyes, \n\"I just wish I could stop thinking about him.\" \nRegarding my distraught friend, I held up my index finger, \n\"Wait here a sec, I'll be right back.\" \nPushing back into the kitchen, I yanked open the most likely drawer and grabbed a handful of spoons, before exiting again and pulling the sliding door closed behind me. \nPlacing down all but one of the spoons, I held one up, \n\"Watch this.\" \nRubbing the spoon with my finger, I held the tip of the handle. As I rubbed, the metal deformed and the bowl of the spoon drooped. \nJess grinned at me through her tears, \n\"I had no idea you were into this hokey magic crap.\" \nIn response I fingered an imaginary moustache, \n\"You insult the Great Sara!\" \nShe giggled as I put a spoon on the outdoor table and slowly rotated it without touching it. \n\"And now, for my final trick, the friend bend!\" \nPlacing a spoon in her hand, I closed her fingers around the handle, leaving plenty of spoon still visible. \n\"Behold!\"* I proclaimed, standing back and moving my hands around hers. As she watched, the spoon drooped, then folded in half and the bowl fell to the floor with a clink on the patio tiles. \nJess's hand shook slightly, \n\"How did you do that?\" she whispered. \nI shrugged, \n\"It's just a dumb spoon trick.\" \n\"No it isn't,\" she interjected, \"you can't bend a spoon in someone else's hand!\" \n\"Sure you can; it's all just the same thing.\" \nShaking her head vehemently now, Jess pointed to the four remaining spoons. \n\"Bend them. Bend them without touching them.\" \n\"Whatever,\" I responded, focusing on the spoons, stroking them with my imaginary fingers. One by one, the spoons deformed and bent in on themselves - one snapped clean in half. \n\"Sara,\" Jess said, swallowing thickly, \"what you just did was impossible.\" " ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 4, 7, 7, 9, 20, 24, 28, 36, 49, 117, 380, 461 ]	[ "1448744832", "1448749653", "1448754596", "1448744575", "1448745726", "1448752969", "1448744651", "1448737376", "1448739354", "1448736421", "1448739786", "1448740701", "1448738691", "1448739805", "1448737716" ]
Earth has no rotation relative to the sun. Thus, in the same way as our moon, earth has a dark side of eternal night, and a bright side of eternal day. We live on the bright side. Around the earth is a circle of dusk. This is where the outcasts live, a kind of pale untermensch that have formed their own societies. They tell stories and legends of what exists on the dark side, but no one really knows. A team of distinct characters, day-people that have never seen the night, has to venture into the realm of darkness on a quest to save the realm of light.	[WP] The earth has no rotation relative to the sun and we live on a hemisphere of endless daylight.	12	[ "The rig's engine roared. With an ear-splitting crack, its runners broke free of the two hours-worth of ice buildup while mechanics had made repairs. It slowly picked up speed, and the rest of the convoy fell into formation. The mission rolled on.\n\nPhillips closed his eyes and rubbed his temples until the nausea abated. He'd known there was a chance of freezing to death out here in the dark, thousands of miles from the sun. He'd read enough about \"winter\" to know to bring plenty of cold medicine, lip balm, multivitamins, tissues, and herbal tea. So far, though, simple motion sickness was making him miserable. At least Exxon-Mobil had paid handsomely to convince him (and a few rival geologists) to leave his cozy campus for an expedition into the ice continents.\n\nHe checked the map on his terminal, even though their coordinates seemed to have barely changed. The going was slow, but he knew it had to be done. The oil fields in warmer longitudes were nearly depleted. They'd left them behind weeks ago and were still hundreds of miles from the area he'd marked in red months ago. It had seemed so simple in front of the execs in an air-conditioned conference room. Every night as he rolled around in his bunk trying to sleep, he'd gone over all his research in his head, second-guessing all his calculations. Surely there had been something closer! Or at least farther from these horrible mountains. \n\nIt was hard to believe that, millions of years ago, this had been a tropical paradise, and his home the frozen wasteland. The only real evidence lay deep beneath the ice and rock. Obviously, they couldn't wait for the planet to finish the rest of the slow rotation, so it was up to him to find it. With any luck, before he lost any fingers or toes to frostbite. Or worse.", "Jonathan waited in the sunlight, praying to his god, /u/Mallepalli. The unbearably warm light beat on Jonathan's skin, but Jonathan had long ago learned to ignore the pain. /u/Mallepalli was the only thing that was important. For the first time in a hundred years, the god spoke.\n\n\"Jonathan.\" the voice was grand, harsh, and bright, perfectly embodying what it meant to be the Sun God.\n\nAwestuck, Jonathan did not speak.\n\n\"Jonathan, I have a quest for you,\" the god continued. \"You must go to the circle of dusk, where the outcasts live. You must go on a quest to save the light.\"\n\nJonathan found his voice. \"What quest, oh great /u/Mallepalli?\" he said.\n\n\"You must take a team of distinct characters, day-people that have never seen the night, to venture into the realm of darkness. They must go on a quest to save the realm of light.\"\n\nJonathan had only heard stories and legends of what existed on the dark side, but no one really knew. That wasn't really a relevant detail, since the dusk people lived in the dusky area and didn't visit the dark side at all.\n\n\"Go,\" /u/Mallepalli said.\n\n\"But wait! What quest? What must I do?\" Jonathan needed to know.\n\n\"You must go on a quest. I cannot tell you more.\" Jonathan could sense /u/Mallepalli's godly presence departing.\n\n-------\n\nJonathan began the long journey to completing the quest. He found a group of actors, all who played distinct characters, to go with him on his quest. He asked about the dusk people. What were they like? Did they eat sun-baked pizza? Was the dusky area foggy? Why wasn't their skin red and sun-burned? Okay, he didn't really need to ask the last one.\n\nBut the question Jonathan asked most, and the question that no one knew how to answer, was, what was the quest that the sun god wanted him to complete?\n\n-------\n\nJonathan visited the dusk people, and was entirely surprised to discover that they had formed their own societies. The idea had never entered his mind. If someone else had written the story, they might have had a single society, unified with the telepathy abilities that only emerged when one was kept from the sun for an extended period of time. But the rarely seen god /u/Mallepalli, had seen fit to structure the societies of the untermensch in that way. No other god was permitted to tamper with the Grand Structure of the universe.\n\n-------\n\nAttempting to complete the quest, the actors performed many skits for the dusk people. The dusk people initially rejected them, but eventually warmed to the bizarre sun worshippers who wanted merely to entertain them. After weeks of travelling and performing, Jonathan declared the quest completed. They travelled home, secure in the knowledge that the world of the light was saved.\n\n-------\n\nIt was such a pity that Jonathan didn't attempt to discover how the dusk people managed to survive with so little sunlight. And a pity that he never attempted to explore the dark side of their little planet. And such a pity that he never discovered the secret of surviving without sunlight.\n\nFor when the sun went out months later, the sun people were entirely unprepared. They died within weeks.\n\nThe End.\n\n-------\n\nI would like to thank /u/Mallepalli for the prompt, and for inspiring me to finally post a story on this subreddit. Thank you, and please forgive me for making fun of you." ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1448748417", "1448775027" ]
	[WP]It's time I spoke of it... This is my confession...	19	[ "I have never been this nervous in my entire life. I could feel the sweat slowly dripping down my face. It was all or nothing, my entire career had led up to this moment. I never thought the day would come where I would have to say this. But I've been backed into a corner and I have no choice.\n\n\" My confession is that I'm guilty of the worst crime imaginable, guilty of caring too much for my city. Guilty of caring for all the people that live within it. Guilty of being tired of letting our people live in fear. I'm not the person this city deserves but I'm the one it needs. My confession ladies and gentlemen is that I, Bruce Wayne, am the Batman\n\n", "I'll always remember the first time I ever did it. The slightly stale taste. The crunch as I bit into it. The prominence of the memory though, comes from the feeling of extreme satisfaction as I chewed. I was only a teenager that first time. \n\nOver the years I continued. The process became a bit harder with age. I couldn't move the way I used to be able to. It made things much more difficult to reach. \n\nWhen friends or family mentioned the act I froze and shot wary glances at the people around me. Did they know? Would they tell? \n\nMy paranoia drove me from interacting. There was so much fear day in and day out that someone would find out. That one day they would call me for what I am. A monster. \n\nI sit here now, having just finished my nightly ritual and writing in my journal. The remains that I spat out sitting in the kitchen trash can. The first step is to admit you have a problem right? So I'll finally put my addiction down on paper. May the world never find out about my deep, dark secret. \n\nEvery single night since I was a teenage boy I've curled up on the bed......and chewed off my toe nails. ", "The first time I held you, I was full of fear. They had promised me something magical, some combination of wonder and love like nothing else I would ever experience. \nSomehow you cheated me even of that, nasty rabbity thing that you were. \nYour skin was translucent as melted wax, the tick-tock of your pulse blue and insistent at your throat and temples. It throbbed your stubborn aliveness through my fingers in a warm Morse code, a communication just between us, but not the kind that was promised. There was accusation in it even then - or perhaps that was just distortion from the postnatal hormones roaring through my body. But no - you opened your glaring eyes and you stuck me through with hateful pins. \nI felt their stab, I did, I know I did. \nI didn't want you, and you knew it from that first touch. So perhaps then, all of this was all my fault. I've read that children are blank slates, waiting for us to inscribe with our own half-scribbled-out mistakes. \nWhen your infant tongue began to babble through those long, dark nights, when the words crystallised in the curls of my sleep-deprived brain so clear and sharp, were those vicious descriptions of demons by my hand, yours, or one unseen? \nYou fed me more secret messages as you grew, so cunningly encoded in those crayoned lines. Yellow sun the judgemental eye, never closing, always staring over some crude representation of our house. Green grass the creeping acid of your hate for me. You thought I didn't know what you were trying to tell me, but I did. I decoded every one. They're all here in the right order now, all around your bed, and spelling out the truth so that everyone will see what you are. \nYou're sleeping now, and for once you're so blessedly quiet. Your skin is translucent as melted wax, congealing beneath my fingertips. Your cursed pulse is not transmitting any staccato threats. I will sit in peace and wait for them to come. I'll finally tell them about you properly. I can do that, now there's such a beautiful silence.\n\n\n", "“I need a hammer.” I told the young man who came up to ask what I was doing in his section. \n\n“What are you trying to do?” His teenage voice cracked as he pressed the question. \n\n“I’m trying to buy a hammer. Where do you keep your hammers?” I was annoyed. This side task was meant to relax me, keeping my mind off what the next day would bring. \n\n“They are over in isle 7 sir. I can show you-“I cut him off, “No, thank you I know what I need.” I was probably less considerate than I had to be to the boy, but he didn’t exist to me right now. \n\nThis hardware store did have an impressive selection of hammers. I needed a heavy one. Ideally it would have a short handle, wide face and a backside for chipping. \n\nWhen I was still working, I could have borrowed a jack hammer from work and done the job in an hour. It never seemed important enough to get around to though; there was always other work to be done. \n\nI considered using my 20lb sledge hammer. That would make it significantly easier. However I felt that getting on my hands and knees, swinging away with one hand wrapped around a 4lb mini sledge all morning would be somewhat therapeutic. \n\nAs I left the store I was in a better mood than I had been for a while, there was a goal to achieve now. Pointless busy work, but it would be tough and I could build a small garden in my back yard where that small concrete pad currently laid. \n\nI threw the hammer, shovel and other supplies in my trunk and started off toward my next stop, the daily liquor run. \n\nI didn’t like drinking before. The dull, detached feeling never had appealed to me personally. \n\nEspecially considering the line of work I was in at the time. Get up early to go push your body, in dangerous conditions… Alcohol doesn’t mix with that. \nHowever, after what happened… I have to admit that being drunk does have its “Pro’s”. \n\nWhen I got to the liquor store I was surprised that the teller asked me for I.D. I’ve been going there daily for year and he knows my name, yet he I.D’s me… \nThere was just one more stop to make before I got lost in my work. The tailor… I remember wishing I could have started drinking right then, but I did have some control. Or so I thought… \n\nOnce I was out of the shop with my expensive new suit, I set it in the back seat with one hand as I reached for the whiskey bottle with the other. I had half-finished it by the time I got home. \n\nOh well, the project can wait I figured. \n\nI ended up sleeping through the rest of the day, and most of the night. I woke early however and I had a strange energy in me, this was the day. So I made some strong coffee and showered before preparing to put an end to the ordeal. \nI hate wearing suits; even the well-tailored one I bought for the occasion was itchy and uncomfortable. \n\nSome occasions call for this type of attire however… Try to imagine me walking into the courtroom on that day in my old sweats and large black T shirt. I would prefer that, why should I bother hiding my real feelings? Well, it wouldn’t look right. \n\nOn this particularly sunny September day, a nice brighter colored suit was mandatory for the occasion. The more festive colors of this one were more to my taste than the black one I had to buy the previous year. \n\nYou have to look good for these types of mile stones. \nNot for yourself, but for the people watching. \nYou have to keep your composure and leave the proper impression on all involved. \nNow that it had been in the news cycle I was a celebrity of sorts, and even if it was for the wrong reasons I would still play the part. \nThere was no good in coming across to everyone like a vengeful drunk every night at five o’clock as they watched the news and ate their suppers. \n\nIt was all a formality at this point, after months of coming in and out of that court house things grew clearer, more certain. I was finally able to sleep through the night again. \n\nI only had to play my role a little longer; once this was done perhaps the grief would start to fade with its memory. I doubted it, but I had to hope. \nAfter a few hours of rehashing everything the jury stood up and marched single file into another room to put an end to this farce. \n\n15 minutes later they returned. I remember a twinge of panic in my mind; I washed it out by convincing myself that it was as clear cut as I saw it. Obviously they wouldn’t take long to decide, even considering the circumstances… \n\n“Not guilty.” \nTime stopped as he said it and I was left hanging there in the void until the gavel slammed and my new reality washed over me. \n\nHow? NOT GUILTY!? There are mountains of evidence… What about the gasoline in his car, on his clothes? What about the wire they found on him did that mean nothing? It was the same thin rusty spool which had bound my sister to that chair! They found his semen, it was a positive DNA match! Officer Erickson testified that he caught Robert trying to flee the scene, does his word mean nothing? \n\nThe thoughts rushed through my mind and panic rose in my chest. This wasn’t right. \n\nIt was a technicality, Robert’s uncle was a famous attorney in town and he had found some loophole, apparently Erickson’s word was less that worthless and everything else was wrapped up with a nice little rusty wire bow. \n\nI remember thinking I was deaf for a moment, just for a moment. Then I heard the cheers… Cheers from Roberts’s friends and family, screams celebrating the way this insect fled justice. \n\nHe actually had the nerve to look at me and smile. A disgusting, limey smile full of teeth I wanted to knock out. \n\nIf I hadn’t know in the back of my mind this was possible, I may have lost my composure right there and ruined it all. I never actually believed he would escape his life sentence, but it was possible. \n\nI knew if that was to be the case then I would have to take up the role of Judge, Jury and Executioner. \n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 5 ]	[ "1448818070", "1448819394", "1448822123", "1448818939" ]
	[WP] She's the quietest girl in class. One day, you approach her and attempt to start a conversation.	4	[ "Samantha Jones...\n\nShe's the prettiest girl in the world in my eyes. Short, curly brown hair going down to just above her shoulders. She herself is fairly short, I think she's only a little over five foot even. Her brown eyes are gorgeous, and she can even make the school uniform look glamorous and sexy. I just had only one thing in the back of my mind, I need to know the answer to this so bad I can't even...\n\nWhat does she sound like?\n\nShe's silent... Drop-dead silent. Not even joking, you could hear a pin-drop around her. Nobody could ever get a peep out of her. Given, not many people have talked to her, but still.\n\nToday was the day, though. Today was the day that I would muster up all of the courage that I had to go over and talk to her. Just walking up to her during break was difficult. I found her in her usual place, outside by the lone oak tree. She was enjoying her lunch, one bite at a time. So I thought, since I had received a pep talk before hand, I might as well give it my best shot.\n\nI slowly approached her. She didn't notice me at first, but after clearing my throat a few times, she jumped slightly and looked up from her lunch.\n\nDeep breath... \"H-hey Samantha...\" I couldn't help but stutter a little, it's hard to communicate with a girl that you fancy.\n\nIt was hardly noticeable, but Samantha raised a hand slightly and gave it a wave. It might have just been me, but she looked a little red, herself.\n\n\"Well... How are you...?\" My pauses were too long and too frequent, but she shrugged her shoulders the same way she did when anyone asked her how she was. \n\nDeep breath... This should be easy, but I just can't do it. He said that if I would just speak my mind, everything would work out just fine. There was only one thing I could do now.\n\n\"You... You're pretty amazing, you know that?\"\n\nNo response.\n\n\"Y-you're awesome, and well, I...\"\n\nNo response.\n\n\"I guess I really like y--\"\n\nShe... Jumped on me.\n\nI thought I was pinned to the ground or something, complete shock was all that I could feel or think about. I was just on the ground here, tackled by Samantha Jones, now what?!\n\nI looked up at her, she had me in a full embrace. She was smiling, not her usual smile with just a curl of the lip. This was a full, genuine smile, her perfect white teeth, her gorgeous ruby lips...\n\nEventually, she backed off and I sat up, only for her to hug me again. I couldn't see her face, but she was laughing...\n\n\"Samantha...?\"\n\nI felt something on my shoulder... She was crying...\n\n\"Samantha? What's wrong?\"\n\nSamantha just looked at me, she was really crying. Her cheeks were red and I saw tear after tear cascading down her face.\n\nShe then started laughing, a mix of laughter and sobs came from her before she was finally able to wipe the tears from her eyes.\n\n\"N-\"\n\nShe was going to do it... She was going to speak... I would finally know the sound of her voice.\n\n\"Nobody r-r-really ever t-t-talks to m-me... Y-you ch-chose to t-t-t-talk to m-m-me. Th-thank you...\"\n\nHer voice was shaky, but there was a certain charm to it. Like a delicate wind chime made of glass, in the right conditions, it sang a harmonious tune, in others, it was silent.\n\n\"I.. I really, really l-l-l-li-li-l-like you to...\" Then she buried her face in my shoulder and continued to cry tears of joy.", "Okay, today, I'll make her talk. And we will sit at the big table in the lunchroom all alone, discussing arts, literature, and music. Our love will blossom into a mighty family tree, under the branches of which we will lovingly raise our offspring. Our children will be educated classically, learning the likes of Plato, Aristotle, and Voltaire before the unintellectual drivel that our current compulsory education system teaches to cater to the lowest common denominator. Okay, here we go. Back straight, eyes ahead, voice unwavering.\n\n\"Hey, wanna eat lunch toget-\"\n\nShe looks up at me and time sits still. Her eyes meet mine and I can feel the fire of our passion already forming a vortex that will soon carry us beyond the horizon of human love and compassion. Surely, this is the moment I will look back on and remember fondly on my deathbed. \n\n\"Fuck off, Neck beard.\"\n\n" ]	[ 3, 3 ]	[ "1448909888", "1448911637" ]
Solos, duets, ensemble pieces. Any period of history. Anything goes!	[WP] All of earth's history is now a musical. These are the lyrics to the show-stopping number.	8	[ "Japan, My rival \nWe meet now on the plain\nof battle and death \nYour surrender will stop this pain\n\n\n Before you do anything rash America\n It may look like our troubles are a lot\n but we will stand our ground\n and fight with all we got\n \n \n We are better you can take my word \n WE are the perfect you know well\n Infidels will be destroyed like you\n and all sent to the pit of hell\n\n\nYou killed innocent men and child\nOn that attack that you planed out\nnow your boasts mean nothing now\nyou are the Insane who can only shout\n\n\n\nBelieve in me you know not about the power \nWe have created in our labs \nwith this power we will carve your lands \nmuch like a Knife will stab \n \nWE will never surrender to you\n ALTHOUGH our allies have fallen through\nIt does not matter any more\n WE will still destroy YOU\n\nMore innocent blood shall be shed \nIn a effort to stop this war \nThey do not have to if you stop this now \nand end the suffering forever more \n\nYOU rounded our people up like slaves\n AND you expect us to calmly behave\nNEVER i say with support of my country\n A new Path of blood we will pave\n\nTHIS IS THE LAST WARNING NOW \nYou have awoken the beast from its nap \nall our people hate yours to \n and think your people are dirty just a dirty JAP \n\nDO YOU FORGET YOUR PATH OF BLOOD\nKILLING SOLDIERS IN THE MUD\n EFFICIENT AND RUTHLESS, YOUR THE ENEMY \nYOUR JUST AS BAD AS GERMANY\n\nJapan my once and long forgotten friend\nI must bring this blood bath to a end\nWith atomic power We will become one\nAND WORLD WAR THREE WILL NEVER COME\n\n\n\n\nThe way Reddit structures things messed this up big time but I hope it is still readable", "Flora and fauna, potted plants and fake animals, litter the stage with great areas of dust and cardboard cut outs of buildings. The stage, a grand colosseum yet empty, only mirrors in the audience. Only Humanity, a snow white woman, with hair blonde hanging down passed, and covering, her nipples. She starts kneeling. Moonlight is all that glows, she is immersed in twilight. A light violin note plays, as it rises Humanity rises too. Light fills the colosseum. Standing straight, the melody of the violin rises and falls with Humanity's voice. \n\nHome. Is where I stand. On the precipice of destruction.\nI will fight until the end.\nI have built the world around me, in ways not even I. Understand.\nThe violin fades.\nYet the continued majesty of each of my creations,\nIs not nearly justification, to induce in those resignations,\nTo give in to that savage idealisastion\nTo-\n\nHer voice takes on a demonic roar similar to the death screams of heavy metal artists. \n\nKILL THAT BITCH\n\nAn orchestra of metal bands, all in unison begin shredding. \n\nAll this shit can just step aside!\nThese trees are just fuel for my eternal fire!\nCRUCIFY MYSELF IN THIS BURNING PYRE!\nTASTE THE FLESH FRESH FROM THESE ANIMALS!\nKILL EVERYT..hnnng\n\nThe metal halts. Her voice returns to normal, but she is mad. A raging piano duo follows her like an army.\n\nI WILL NOT LET THE WORLD BURN!\nNo matter what the cost,\nI. Will. Not. Let. The world, DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE\n\nThe metal resumes, more metal than ever. \n\nNOTHING. CAN STOP. THE METAL\n\nGrabbing a flamethrower from behind a fake bush Humanity struts around the stage, in a belting chest voice that never breaks its pitch. \n\nFlame will rise. I choose my own destuction.\n\nShe starts setting fire to all flora and fauna. The metal slows to let the vocals shine.\n\nIn the ashes of my reign. This kingdom, I do claim.\nIts not enough. Its not enough.\n\nHolding the last note, she walks to all side of the colloseum grabbing nuclear warheads and wheeling them to the centre. She hold the note for several more seconds and ends. The metal stops and then resumes as she screams.\n\nI NEED A BIGGER STAGE\n\nHolding the scream she grabs a detonator from behind another bush.\n\nDIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...Enough!\n\nA violent string quartet sound the metal to a stop. The quartet begin to fade. Humanity in a whisper.\n\nEnough.\n\nTaking a knife from behind a bush, Humanity slices her own throat. The live broadcast camera rises from the colosseum as it goes dark. Zooming out more and more. Many dark stages can be seen. The camera start to pan towards a new stage.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1448945066", "1448942645" ]
	[WP] You're sitting in class and you ask the teacher if you can use the restroom. They allow you to use it, you leave your seat to use the restroom. When you return from the restroom you enter the classroom startled,because you see yourself sitting at your desk.	20	[ "I opened the classroom door, and walked inside. I was at the first row of seats before I realized that I had already come back from the bathroom. \n\nWait what?\n\nIt seemed impossible but there I was. He was? I slowly backed up a out of the front row and stopped only when I felt the door behind me. \n\nHe was taking off brown zip up hoody, it had black fake fur in the hood. It wasn't similar to the one I was wearing, it was the same jacket. He had the same black hair I did, it was styled the same way too. Sure his hair wasn't styled exactly the same. That would be impossible. But it was damn close. Same clothes. He looked exactly like me. He set his blue backpack right next to the one that was already there by the desk.\n\nHe coughed.\n\nI coughed.\n\nWe sounded the exact same. \nThat got people's attention. I couldn't remember seeing even a real life double take, much less the quintuple take that most of the people in that room made look as genuine and comedic as anything I'd ever seen. I almost laughed. \nAlmost.\n\nIt was at that exact moment that I had my first clean headed thought since I opened the door to that classroom.\n\nRUN!\n\nI doubled over in pain. It was so loud. I felt like it was echoing around in my skull, getting louder with each reverberation. I turned, still doubled over and opened the door with my shoulder and ran down the hallway. The speakers all toned at once, it continued on and I ran faster. Lockdown.\n\nMy heart hammered as I heard door locks click into place as I ran by. \n\nWhat was happening? Who was that in my chair? \n\nI ran right into the school's security officer. He grabbed me and pulled me behind a wall. He stood me against the wall, holding my arms so I couldn't escape.\n\"It's okay, it's okay.\" He repeated. \n\nI stopped struggling. There was no point. He outweighed me and somehow I remembered what I knew about him even in my frenzied state. \n\nFranklin McCain. Sgt. Franklin McCain. 42 years old. Honorably discharged 5 years ago. Walked with a bad limp in his right leg. 6’2” 240 lbs.\n\n\"Did you see them? How many are there?\" He asked. \n\nSo stupid. He doesn't know what the intruders look like. And I look like a student. A very specific student that he has seen before, even at a big school. \n\n\"Yes. I only saw one.\" I said. I had to buy myself some time.\n\n\"What did they look like?\" He asked.\n\n\"Young enough to be mistaken for a student, dark hair, longer than mine. White guy.\"\n\n\"Copy. Go that way,\" He pointed behind him, \"Find an empty classroom and lock the door. Stay there until you hear the all clear.\" He said peaking around the corner to look back the way I came.\n\n\"Yes sir.\" I said.\n\n\"Go now,\" He said, and disappeared around the corner. To find me.\n\nI went to my right and out a set of exterior doors into the courtyard. \n\"That was slick.\" A voice said from beside the door.\nI must have jumped 6 feet in the air.\n\nIt was a girl. She was shortish, with messy red hair, wearing a waist length leather jacket and tight fitting jeans. \n\"You bought us some time. Let's go.\" She said pushing herself off the wall.\n\n\"Wait what?\" \n\n\"You're running right? Or do you want to stay around and find out why there's another you in there.\" She said without turning around.\n\n\"What? Stop, please. What's happening?\"\n\n\"Nope. No stops. I can explain, but I won't stop.\"\n\nI hesitated. \"How do you know what's happening to me?\"\n\n\"No stops.\" She called back louder.\n\nI jogged to catch up with her. \n\"If I'm in so much trouble, why are we still walking?\" I asked.\n\n\"You're only in trouble if they catch you and start asking questions.\" She took a breath. \"And we're walking because I don't want anyone asking additional questions about why we're running.\" She said.\n\n\"Fuck, are you crazy? Do you know what happens at a high school during an intruder lockdown?\" I asked. \n\nShe stopped. She stared at me with absolutely no emotion or recognition in her eyes for about 2 seconds.\n\n\"Fuck.\" She broke into a run.\n\n\"Wait, where are we going?\" I called as I tried to keep up with her.\n\n\n\"Out. And keep up. You can.\" She said. It didn't even sound like she was out of breath.\n\n\nSo I ran harder, and found out she was wrong. I could not keep up. She was waiting for me at every corner as we sprinted through down the walkways in between buildings. We got to the place in between the science building and the history building. She was waiting by a grate covering a manhole.\n\n\n\"Where now?\" I gasped.\n\n\nIn responses she lifted the heavy manhole covering. With one hand.\n\n\n\"Whoa,\" I said articulately. I couldn't remember ever just freezing up when talking to a pretty girl, but I had nothing.\n\n\n\"Get in,\" she said, still holding the grate. She was just holding it, out away from her even, like the possibility of getting muck on her jacket was more of a bother than holding the large piece of metal. \n\n\n\"Wait, is this really necessary?\" I asked.\n\n\nShe took a breath and paused. \"Listen, when question time comes up here, and it will, how do you think things will go for the imposter?\" She asked.\n\n\n\"How should I know... wait, are you suggesting.\"\n\n\n\"Not suggesting, telling.\" She interrupted. \"In.\"\n\n\nThis is where I wake up right? I half asked myself. But I didn't wake up, and she didn't drop that impossibly heavy grate. But the part that really scared me, I almost believed her. Seriously was I doubting whether or not I was really me?\n\n\nThat's when I heard the sirens.\n\n\n\"Last chance,\" she said. Then added, \"It'll be okay, I promise.\" She looked genuinely sympathetic. \nI stepped down the manhole without another word. I kept feeling for a ladder step with my foot until I hit the ground.\n\n\n\"Ow,\" I moaned. \n\"Move.\"\n\n\nI rolled out of the way. I didn't fall far, there wasn't quite enough space to stand up in whatever this was.\n\n\nShe dropped the grate in place, hanging from the rungs and dropped down once I was out of the way.\n\n\n\"Can we talk now?\" I asked.\n\n\n\"Almost, trust me a little longer. You'll want time after I start answering questions. This way.\"\nThat scared me. \n\n\nI followed her down the tunnel, not paying much attention. My mind raced and I got nowhere. This must be some fucked up dream. We went down another manhole and went from old steam tunnels to sewers. We followed them long enough I thought about asking the dumbest question I could think of. Are we there yet?\n\n\nIt was about then I saw light at the end of the tunnel and she stopped.\n\"Ask.\" She said simply.\n\n\nMy mind blanked again. Where do I even start? \"Who are you?\" I asked\n\n\n\"Evelyn.\" \n\n\n\"Okay. Evelyn, what is happening?\"\n\n\n\"Let me ask you, what is the first thing you remember today?\"\n\n\n\"Opening the door.\" I shot back quickly. “I don’t know what’s…” I trailed off. I couldn’t remember anything before opening the classroom door.\n\n\nShe smiled.", "The teacher was talking about math, or something. I wasn't really paying attention. All I could think of was how badly I had to pee. She hated when she was interrupted to use the restroom. It was almost impossible to get a bathroom pass from her. \n\nI raised my hand as the need grew to an unbearable peak. She ignored my hand for a moment then with an exasperated sigh motioned towards me.\n\n\"Yes, Taylor?\" she said putting a hand against her hip. Obviously she was irritated, she wasn't a fan of questions being asked either. I assumed it was because she loved the sound of her own voice.\n\n\"Can I use the restroom?\" I asked. I saw her eyes roll as she reached for the red painted wooden plank that was attached her desk. Scratched onto it's sides was \"bathroom pass\". She held it out.\n\n\"5 minutes,\" she said looking at the clock. I glanced at the clock but, I didn't really take in the time. I took the pass from her hands and ran out into the hall. Racing to the nearest bathroom, I thought for sure I was gonna wet myself!\n\nI left the bathroom and headed back for the classroom. I didn't run this time, I knew I had plenty of time to get back. As I went to open the door of the classroom I noticed that her red pass was still hanging off the side of her desk. The pass I had in my hands. Looking further in there I was. Sitting at my desk, obviously not paying attention.\n\nStupefied I stood staring in at myself. A few moments later my hand went up. The scene that had occurred minutes ago repeated. I moved out of sight as past me opened the door and flew out of the door and down the hall.\n\nI waited a few minutes than opened the door and entered the classroom. The teacher looked surprised that I was back so quickly. She took the pass from my hand and I went back to my seat. I sat down and stared at the glass pane above the door for the entirety of the class period.\n\nHad I just traveled through time?", "\"Nope.\" John said to himself, turning away from the door to take another loop around the hall. This would be the third time he did so, but luckily no one had seemed to notice.\n\nAnother pass, and he stopped at the door's window, staring at an angle into the classroom. The other John was staring back this time. He looked...\n\n\"Nope.\" John walked away again. That smile was pure fucking evil- no way jose, he was not walking in on that motherfucker. \"Nope, nope, nope,\" he muttered quietly as his shoes clapped along the floor of the tiled halls with soft echoes.\n\nSee, this was the perfect horror movie situation. John had seen plenty of horror movies in his time, from zombies to vampires, to the weird supernatural ones. He knew the deal as Hollywood portrayed it, and going into that classroom was the perfect stupid horror movie circumstance. John wasn't an idiot. He'd seen enough to know that would be a very, very bad idea.\n\nHe did another loop, glancing into the classroom. The other him was grinning, deviously. Oh, it knew he knew... it was anticipating how he would act, how he would deal with it.\n\nWell, then it was going to be extremely disappointed. If that thing thought John was going into that classroom- well it had another thing coming. The hell with that. What did it think, that John was stupid?\n\n\"Nope. Not happening.\" Another loop.\n\nJohn felt in his pocket, assessing his options. A pen, a folded piece of scrap paper, a tiny pocket knife... his wallet, keys... not much of a doppelganger combat load-out. Still, he had to try to plan this whole thing. Acting on a whim was a bad plan.\n\nHe could wait until class was over, maybe try and corner the thing... Maybe. It obviously knew the jig was up. Maybe it had expected him to just walk in without noticing?\n\nIn that case, maybe only he could see it, and then calling it out would seem crazy- and then it would disappear and strike when John was least expecting. Horror movie cliches, he was pulling from several... no, he had to be smart. Hire an exorcist?\n\nWell that actually never seemed to work out in the movies either. That actually had an extremely poor track record. No he'd need to rule that out.\n\nHe could try to kill it, but for all he knew that would just land his ass in prison or something equally tragic. For all he knew it might just kill him instead, and that wasn't worth the gamble at all.\n\nNo, even after all this, he could only see one real option.\n\n\"Fuck it.\" John growled as he walked out the side door and jogged to his car in the senior class parking lot. \"I'll just transfer.\"" ]	[ 3, 8, 25 ]	[ "1448994352", "1448992201", "1448990292" ]
	[WP] A 'world war' starts on a giant colony spaceship on its journey to a habitable planet.	43	[ "Shaobub rubbed the card on his Elder necklace worriedly as he walked. The scouts had returned from the staerburd with nothing but bad news - every module, from the food factories in Messe to the speaking walls of Libraville, stank of death. \n\nTwelve hundred of the great Chernese tribe wiped out, without so much as a cracklecomm. And the massacre was gradually spreading towards the townships of the great white halls, where thousands of his people huddled in fear. Above them towered the great metal spheres, whose vault-like doors every boy attacked for three days as a rite of passage on their manhood day. How much he wished he could open those doors today, and the tribe could find safety in their iron bellies. \n\nBut Shaobub could only think of one thing to do now, one final hope. Hellbrijj. The place of the Elder ritual.\n\nEvery new Elder would learn the words of passing, and at their succession ceremony, invoke them upon the blinking red lights of the entrance to Hellbrijj. And for generations immemorial, the voice would reply,'Deneyed.' And then the wailing ritual would begin.\n\nBut this was the last recourse, his only option, and so he hurried his weary old legs along the last few corridors.\n\nTurning the final corner, there stood the closed doors, like so many others in the world. Approaching, his trembling hand lifted the card at the end of the chain, and pressed it firmly against the blinking red light.\n\n'Secoor eye dee four eight three.'\n\nMoments passed, his heart shaking against his rib cage. \n\n'Deneyed.'\n\nFailure. There was no hope. His body collapsed to the floor in a heap and he began to sob, his heart filled with total sorrow... when. Suddenly, he heard a loud tone pulse from the door. The light turned green. It had worked! It had worked!!!\n\nThe door opened, and Shaobub gazed where none of his civilisation had ever before. And there was a person. A human. A god? Behind him, a room full of speaking walls, and more people, their excited chatter reverberating around the chamber. \n\nThe one in the door reached out to him, with a metal square in his hand. A gift? Shaobub reached back out, his arm outstretched, as the figure pointed the square towards him. \n\n.............\n\n> COMM OPEN\n> SEND FILE\n\n- - - TRANSMISSION - - -\n\n.............\n\n- Mission leader\n- Entry 12 \n- Journey AL 45270\n\nFifty eight days to landfall. The genpop pods have begun to wake up.\n\nAs Russbloc counter-agent Petr identified, Sinobloc had hacked the system for early thaw, to 'sanitize' the habitation pods and re-chill. Our countermeasures were successful, and they were unable to access secure areas. \n\nWhen we woke, after almost half a cent-mill, they had devolved into a retrograde sub-civ. As per orders, we cycled the oxygen, and also decommed one who was trying to access the bridge with the old code. \n\nNasty business, but if you start a war, you have to face the consequences.", "Shaun choked back the vomit as he stepped over another corpse. Any sound he made now would mean his end. But the the dead woman's face captured him, and for a moment he looked into her open eyes and imagined what her life may have been twenty years ago. She was probably a working mother back on Earth, living a normal life until the migration. Surely she had never dreamed she would breathe her last as a soldier in a war forty trillion miles from her home. As Shaun gazed at her limp body lying there in the black circle of her dried blood, he knew he'd be next if he faltered. This was as far as he'd ever been into the neutral zone. Guards weren't supposed to come this far, but Shaun had been plotting this strike for weeks. The enemy scout he was trailing brought him dangerously close to Deceiver territory, closer than he'd been in the eight months of the conflict.\n\n All hell had broken loose in year twelve on the Xirang. Even before the announcement that sparked the war, the Mutineer clans had organized and loosely marked their territory. In a last-ditch effort to bring them back into the fold, the Deceivers openly admitted what the Mutineers had suspected for years: The Xirang didn't have a destination. The utopia they had been promised was a lie. Gliese 667Cc could never be habitable, and the vessel was never designed to make it there. The announcement didn't work as intended. The infighting among the Mutineers abruptly stopped as the clans united under one goal: to overthrow the authority that had tricked and abused them. Initially the rebels only held 12 of the 64 environments. But they also had more engineers and tradesmen on their side. Eight months and eight campaigns later, 31 environments were under Mutineer control.\n\nShaun stealthily darted around the hulking debris that filled the neutral zone. Giant pieces of machines used in the first battle were scattered among fallen remnants of the artificial landscape. As he quietly trailed the enemy scout through the maze of metal, Shaun considered the glory at stake if his rogue plan succeeded. Single-handedly winning two environments could gain him a lieutenant rank overnight. Everyone would know him as the boy who tipped the balance of power. The girls back home in East-Five would fawn over him at every sighting. If he could just pass as a defector long enough to reach his cousin in Central-Forty, he knew he could sway him to the cause. Then he just needed to gain access to the reactor and run his hack to take it hostage. All ten-thousand citizens of Environment 40 and 41 would be at his mercy.\n\n\"Red five, report,\" a voice crackled over the enemy scout's com.\n\n\"Charges have been placed, No suspicious activity,\" the scout responded.\n\nThe com crackled again, \"OK, we've only got three days to the assault. We'll put another set of charges out tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Roger that.\"\n\nAll of Shaun's gusto curdled in an instant. Three days to the assault? They must be planning an offensive! His mind raced. The Deceiver factions had yet to mount a successful offense on the Mutineers. Charges in the neutral zone? But that would.. that would compromise the hull... The truth knocked the wind out of him. That would kill us all. \n\nSuddenly Shaun's scheme seemed insignificant. His hopes of glory would have to wait. The clans must be warned! From his crouched position under a tangle of cables, he looked back the way he had come and reached for his com. A Deceiver guard towered over him. Shaun stared up the barrel of the gun.\n\n\"Welcome to hell.\"", "The Hermes is one of the flagship Colony ships of the Galactic Collective. It has completed dozens of colonizing missions. Currently it is home to several hundreds of thousands of colonists. The Captain of the ship has just lost contact with the drone he had possessed. The Hermes awaits its officers' orders--it lays on the outskirts of its target system--the system in which its temporary inhabitants will soon call home, where the colonists' descendants will continue to multiply until the feeble colony is yet another branch, another tendril, of the Galactic Collective's growing influence. Indeed the system in which the Hermes rests on its borders is only one of many Galactic Collective colonizing fronts--a colonizing front that is considered a relatively easy mission, given the data on the system determined it has yet to be inhabited. A simple matter of unpack and settle down is how these missions normally go. However the Hermes is equipped for anything, and as a flagship, it has seen its fair share of battles. Little to anyone's knowledge, the system has already been colonized by an as yet unknown alien civilization, however stranger still, the hostile alien civilization is in fact human. Regardless, the Captain must ensure the survival of the colonists on his ship and ensure his victory.\n\n\"Captain! Data continues to pour in from all over the system! Our network of drones have secured a steady stream of which my team is analyzing.\" Discov, the Intelligence Division Lieutenant bursts into the bridge.\n\n\"Lieutenant, I want that data on my vis-display!\"\n\n\"Yes sir!\" The Lieutenant barks as he presses a series of on screen commands on his Personal External Communicator's vis-display.\n\nThe Captain is sitting in his Captain's chair that is positioned in the middle of the bridge. He pulls the vis-display to a comfortable reading position, the malleable glass material bending to his will. He slaps the display with a palm and the vis-display instantly flattens and becomes flush at a bend. Soon the Captain's vis-display flashes images of real time drone activity around the system but slowly one by one the drones' visual data feeds abruptly disconnect with static.\n\n\"Discov! Prepare more scout drones and notify me when they are ready to go. But for right now, please connect me to Lieutenant Astarte via mind to mind.\"\n\n\"You heard the man, people. Get Lieutenant Astarte on mind to mind.\" Discov shouts.\n\n\"Captain! What are your orders?\" A deep but feminine voice fills the Captain's waking mind.\n\n\"Go, Lieutenant Astarte! Send your crewmen to Sol-6. Send them to this civilization's largest fleet. Let's show this ignorant people who they are dealing with. We came here to complete a mission... I always complete my mission.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir!\"\n\nThe mind to mind connection severs and Lieutenant Astarte opens her eyes. She promptly gets to her feet to shout indiscriminately into the large room upon her, a room filled with rows of bunk beds.\n\n\"GET UP! To your battle stations!\"\n\nThe room abruptly comes to life. Men and women shuffle to and fro and the room empties until only Astarte remains. She holds out her left wrist in front of her and touches the clunky metal armband attached to it. It glows warmly and she proceeds to press a series of on-screen commands. The room begins to rumble around Astarte until she is violently whipped forward, however she maintains her composure even as the chair she was sitting on a moment ago moves forward, hitting her from behind. She grabs the chair and throws it at the wall to her side before leaving the room.\n\n---\n\nPART 2 below! :)", "What Should Have Been Left There.\n\nPART 1\n\nLike most, it started with a single shot.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nIt was late at night, fifteen years ago. There was a small government outbuilding, in the Montana badlands, far from any city or road. Far from the glamorous research stations orbiting the Elliptical, or Spinward, on the inside of that colossal counterweight suspended over Cape Canaveral by exotic orbital gravities, mind-bogglingly hanging like a plumb bob of glass and shimmering ceramic, as if it were tied right to the arch of the sky.\n\nFar from everything, really. This station was not a priority. \n\nThat was about to change. \n\nIn three hours, there will be desperate phone calls, and heated words, and denial.\n\nThe lights were out inside, it was lit only by flickers of blue and green (the hallmarks of a budget VR system, the kind you might use for a sandwich shop window advertisement).\n\nRight now, it was showing numbers, to two researchers. They didn't have anyone at home waiting for them. One was a man, the other was a woman. Neither liked each other much.\n\nIn about a half-hour, they'd be making frenzied, desperate love on the lab table in the corner, the first of many attempted distractions.\n\n\"Are you sure?\"\n\n\"No doubt. The HAARP II was built specifically for this. Gamma burst precursors.\"\n\n\"I... damn it. Damn. God-damn it.\" She bit her lip, and looked close to tears. \n\nThe man talked like a leaden puppet.\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah.\"\n\n\"Should... should we call command?\"\n\n\"No need. Their console is linked to ours. They're reading the same alert.\"\n\n\"We can save, what? A million? Two?\"\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\n\"That's... Holy shit. A 99.9% fatality rate?\" She looked pale, a ghost, of someone who had just seen their murderer.\n\n\"More. Much more than that.\"\n\n\"That intense of a pulse... even a reactor wall wouldn't stop it...\" She chewed her nails, a childish habit that had taken this time to return.\n\n\"No.\" He showed his first expression, but it was strange, almost wistful. \"We'll have to leave. And tell our children about what Earth used to be.\"\n\n\"Then... there's nothing we can do?\"\n\n\"No.\" He said, calmly. \n\n(How odd, he reflected. Here, he had written a note, and bought the pills, but the Universe had decided to kill him off first. How odd, that now, he should feel like this, and at the same time, so wish to live.)\n\n\"So then, what do we do now!?\"\n\n\"We do what we have to, to live through tonight.\" He marveled at the simplicity of the thought. \n\nShe looked at him. He looked at her.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nThey were still sticky and sore, when the Generals called, and the politician's aides, and eventually, the roused politicians themselves. \n\nWith the tranquility of a falling stone, they repeated themselves. The galaxy had just loaded a gun, and, in five years, it would pull the trigger. A relativistic jet of Gamma Rays, the dying gasp of a star being crushed by a black hole some few light years away, would hit, and sterilize the planet. We'd choke on death, death we wouldn't be able to even feel, and die in horrible pain, some few days later.\n\nIt stayed a secret for three days. Until, tearfully, a high-ranking aide called for a press conference, and between blubbering gasps, and frantic attempts by G-men to cut the feed, he told the truth. \n\nHe'd brought a loaded gun, too. He brought it to his head.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nIn the coming weeks, ammunition was scarce. The fires burned, and electricity flickered. There were pyres in the street, for the dead.\n\nWe cried, held each other, howling in the dark at the dome of night. We shook with pain and hunger. We cursed gods and men, and prayed to them, in shifts. \n\nAs ever, the gods stayed quiet.\n\nBut, after 90 days, Man answered.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nBlinking, shaking with weakness, we stepped out into the sun once again.\n\nOur savior's name was Rohini. She appeared on all of our monitors and radios, our telecasts, and told us of her plan.\n\n\"Many will die. I cannot stop that. But. maybe, I can save a few million. These are our last days. If you are sated with blood finally, and have tired of nihilistic oblivion, you can help us. Live for a reason. And at the end, I will promise you comfort.\"\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nThe plan was simple. Lash together the dismantled sections of the Elliptical ring, lashing them together like a bundle of sticks. Strap on every single derelict station, satellite, and functioning shuttle, into a massive hulking tangle of airlocks, passages, and capsules into something vaguely spaceworthy. \n\nThe question had always been propulsion. There was nothing that could provide the requisite energy to power the experimental M-Drive, that would provide that initial push while the ship was safely ensconced within a fold of dimensions. so the relativistic acceleration wouldn't vaporize it into glittering metal ions through sheer inertia. \n\nThis was the question that Dr. Rohini had provided the answer to.\n\n\"The radiation pulse itself. That which we flee from, will give us the power. We will only be able to capture a small fraction, less than a tenth of a tenth of a tenth, but-\"\n\nIt would work, the engineers said. That it left no room for error, went unsaid.\n\nIt also meant that those fortunate few, crewing our celestial salvation would be with their loved ones, up until the very instant of their death, and be torn apart, just as Damocles's sword descended, relativistic light effects turning the still-active comm links from video to paintings, frozen in the time slope. \n\nHow long would the crew stand transfixed before them, before they finally moved? Knowing that the last day of their families, their parents and children, would last, for them, for years?\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nIn the thinness beyond the Spinward, unrest was growing.\n\nThere was a community here. Ten million strong. Laborers and scientists, who had shook gravity from their feet like snow, and had long abandoned the green shores and blue waves for the quiet glory of life in that black between it and the Moon.\n\nLiving out here came with a price. \n\nCalcium loss, as they grew tall, the gaps between their bones swelling, long-limbed, delicately boned. Cancer was rampant, even with the advances made in radiation shielding They didn't work ceaselessly in those complex astronaut gym rigs, designed to fight muscle atrophy: they had given up any thought of return. They went blind at 55, cataracts rendering their eyes useless. They ate by drinking from pouches, like spiders eating bugs. To a one, they were infertile. Their teeth frequently had little enamel left, as they fought acid reflux and constant vomiting.\n\nThey danced in comet dust. Laughed brightly, sang strange songs, and composed beautiful music, that made the metal hulls of their ships, those thin skins against the void, vibrate and resonate in time, an instrument unto itself. They moved like poetry. And each of them could do ten times the work of a bumbling astronaut dirt-sider, and do it better.\n\nAs the messages came through, and the scale of the Great Effort became clear, it dawned on these new humans what was being asked of them.\n\nWe were going to take their homes. They would die too, it was true, when the pulse arrived. But they had long ago made peace with a brief life, for the sake of a rich one...\n\nThe rumblings only grew louder, when they heard who we were going to ask to do the bulk of the space-side work.\n\nIt would waste too many resources to launch up more workers, obviously, and the space elevator needed to be dismantled first, as it would form the spine of the great ship.\n\n\"Do they expect us to simply float in space suits, then?\" they muttered. \"Just watch, as they float away?\"\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nOn Earth, the lottery was beginning. \n\nRiots began again, and accusations of corruption were levelled, as their fates became clear, and the impossible hope of last minute salvation vanished like ether on a hot sidewalk. \n\nThe pyres burned in the streets again, as people tossed their red gene-locked cryptopasses in, in a preemptive cremation.\n\nThe ships were only half built, and supply lines were being slowed.\n\nA press conference was called, with the most violent agitators invited to attend. Spitting and frothing, they heaped abuse on the lone figure of Dr. Rohini, who sat, with her head bowed, and her lips (like a broken-open fig) set in a thin line.\n\nWhen they inevitably stopped for breath, she simply reached into her lab pocket, and pulled out her own red cryptopass. She set it, damningly, on the table, in clear view of the gathered crowd and camera.\n\nThe agitators slinked away in shame. \n\nEventually, a few offered their places on the ship. She smiled, and shook her head.\n\n...\n\nProduction resumed.\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "“Dammit Jim, I'm not a doctor! I can’t deal with this,” Carson yelled scrambling down the metal corridor, his shoes slid on the gore glazed floor and left frenzied red streaks in their path. \n\n\nFacing him, brows pulled high on my red spattered face, my hands flew up and out to the side in distressed exasperation. He shook his head at me and pressed a piece of fabric to the wounded man’s abdomen. \n\n\nThis was not how my father had planned any of this and now I was stuck in the crossfire.\n\n\nIn a distant wing of the EktosGaia, sirens rang out and the disorganized tapping of feet began to grow louder. The only thing working to drown out the cacophonous sound of war in crescendo, was the hollow internal thud of my rapidly beating heart. \n\n\nIf they found us here, we were dead.\n\n\n“Carson, you need to leave him. We have to go,” I shouted.\n\n\n---------------------------------\n\n\nIn November of 2047 it was revealed that the Earth’s more powerful countries had begun collaboratively working to produce a massive spacecraft. An interstellar vehicle capable of housing nearly two-thirds of the world’s population. The end goal being to jump ship, so to speak, and take up lodgings on a new, fresh, planet. \n\n\nThey called it EktosGaia and announced its existence in an international political panel along with, what was essentially, the Cliff's Notes version of the extensive journey plans in October of the following year. \n\n\nIn October 2049, one year from the date of the speech, my father and the other four project leaders, planned to load up as many people as they could and begin the journey to Terra Redux. Seeing as space was limited, the journey intentionally excluded a specific predefined segment of the population. Once take off day rolled around, the ship would board and remain divided by country, with the opportunity for distanced families to reconcile and live together. \n\n\nAside from that, people were to live in their assigned spaces. Reproduction was limited and jobs would be assigned based on your skillset. Life was designed to be simple. \n\n\nThe launch date came and things were going as planned. There were a few protests about the section of the population who were being left behind. Including the old, terminally ill, and mentally unstable. But, not wanting to be left behind themselves, the morally righteous gave in and boarded as well. \n\n\nThe first few years went as intended. The countries stayed mostly divided, people did their jobs, and the ship ran smoothly. Even the faux ecosystems, created by some of the world’s most talented scientists, were thriving. My father was praised as the creator of something great. A man who saved the world’s inhabitants from an untimely demise. \n\n\nYear Five, though, was different. \n\n\nIn Year Five, some of the lower class inhabitants started to realize the wealth gap. They noticed the discrepancy in services and the more lenient law enforcement for higher class citizens. Initially, it only resulted in peaceful protest. But as months went by and circumstances didn’t change, they began to rebel. \n\n\nSections of the ship meant only for those who performed what were considered “green level” tasks, or those in the immediately related to green workers, were being invaded by silver workers. Their week’s credit couldn’t afford extravagant dining or chances to visit the observation bubbles as was available to those working green level. So, they demanded equality.\n\n\nWith little understanding of the cause of the quarrel, my father stepped in. He tried to explain that there was no blatant discrimination. Children were tested at a young age to determine what jobs would suit them best, thus allowing advancement for all levels of working families. \n\n\nIn this meeting, questions about the old, sick, and second-born children of the silver, blue, and orange level families were brought up. My father did his best to divert their inquiries, but the seed of doubt had been planted.\n\n\nOver the next few months, people began to sneak around and observe the hidden inner workings of the ship and its higher ranking officials. \n\n\nWhat they found lead to, what could be considered, World War III. \n\n\n------------------------------------\n\n\n“Shit, shit, shit. Jim, he is going to die if we leave him! He’s our age. That could be us,” Carson rattled, hands shaking as he moved towards me, hesitating as his urges were torn between self-preservation and moral calling. \n\n\n“Yeah, well that will be us if you don’t move,” I replied before jogging down a side corridor and waving for him to follow. \n\n\nThe shouting was growing louder and louder, making me immensely concerned for our safety. Due to the fact that my father was the creator of the ship, and partially responsible for the planning of everything related, I managed to gain the hatred of all of the rebelling population. \n\n\nThey wanted to use me as leverage to show my father how it feels to have your loved ones simply discarded. \n\n\nMy father said that it had to be done. We had to thin out the population in order to maintain a balance of resources. The green level workers put in a great deal of effort to keep the ship and its occupants safe, so they were allowed more leeway. \n\n\n“I can see their footprints, they went this way,” a man yelled, leading the stampede of furious rebels in our direction. \n\n\nAs we turned, we realized that the corridor only led to a small room and the door had been sealed when the lockdown was called. Silently, Carson and I watched the shadows appear on the floor, soon replaced by the blood and sweat coated faces of animalistic men. \n\n\n“You and your people think that you can just eject our families? That you can put our children out like garbage just because they break your rules? Rules that you don’t even enforce for everyone on board.”\n\n\nDespite his obvious anger and ferocity, his brows wrinkled down and his lip quivered. Who had he lost? Who had my father, or his people, taken from this man? \n\n\n“No, I really don’t,” I replied, body quivering as I prepared to beg for mercy.\n", "One inch. Just one more inch was all he needed. He could see the man's boot from inside of the vent. All he needed was for the man to move one inch closer...\n\nAnd then it happened. Someone walked down the hallway, and the man shuffled backwards to accommodate them. It was time.\n\nThere wasn't even enough time for the man in the hallway to realize he was dead. One minute he was there, and the next, he was a corpse, falling awkwardly to the ground and collapsing with a metallic thud onto the cold, hard ground.\n\n\"Charge!\" shouted the man in the vent.\n\nAll throughout the 67th and 68th floors, his men burst out of the ventilation system and into the hallway. The battle was quick; most of the enemy guards fell as quickly as the first.\n\n\"Sir! We found the room!\"\n\nA soldier approached the man from the vent.\n\n\"It's just down this hallway. They've barricaded themselves in, but we already started drilling into the room.\"\n\nThe man nodded, and followed as the soldier led him to the room. It didn't look out of the ordinary by any means. The door didn't even look metal; the ship had fallen into disrepair since the war started, and a lot of things had to be replaced with whatever material was available.\n\nOn the surface, this door was oak wood. But scans had indicated that this room was more fortified than any other on the ship. Behind the door had been a hallway, but the men inside had activated the emergency procedures, blocking the hallway with twenty feet of titanium.\n\nIt only took a few days for the drill to get through. The men inside didn't even put up a fight; a few had died from dehydration, and the survivors were only hours away from death.\n\nThe man surveyed the room.\n\n\"This is it. The control room.\"\n\nThe men around him cheered, as the man turned the ship's navigation system back on.\n\n\"We're finally back on course.\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 14 ]	[ "1448996395", "1449005884", "1449008135", "1449003109", "1448995674", "1448993259" ]
	[WP] "In the end, we left the Earth knowing nothing."	13	[ "It was heralded as the second great technological revolution, after the production of the first quantum transistors. \nArmed with what had been artfully dubbed Zentech, humanity began a transformation that had been dreamed of since the conception of cyberpunk and science fiction. Integrated circuits the size of human cells gave the potential for all sorts of medical and military applications - and within twenty years, disease had been completely eliminated from humanity. Armed with impregnable bodies filled with bundles of smart-cells integrated into our newly forged quantum control nodes, cancer was forgotten and the common cold died an ignominious death after thousands of years of dominance. \nBut it was just the beginning. \nThere was so much more for us to discover from there. \n\n&nbsp; \nAugments became the newest thrill for humanity; powered by Zentech people learned to tweak their own bodies, augmenting eyesight, strength, agility and speed. But these were simple applications - just low level 'hacking' of the human body. As the Ecological Crisis loomed and the Govcorps feuded for dominance over world resources, Zentech became the bridge for truly augmented humans; with the power of control at the cellular level, implants couldn't be rejected and pathogens could be eradicated before infections set in. \nMilitias funded by the Govcorps started an arms race the like of which the old novelists and sci-fans fans could never have predicted. Unfettered by the fractured UN and urged onward by the newly fragmented Republic States that had once been Old America, the war of cyborg terrorism rose to unprecedented levels; scorched earth tactics leaving other Govcorps scrambling to research new technologies faster and faster. \nEspionage became the new warfront as defense systems grew increasingly powerful, but the race to create and arm better agents pushed onward, regardless. \n\n&nbsp; \nThe Ecological crisis was 'solved' with the massive city shields; webbed walls of burning blue energy that kept out the raging tornadoes and the harsh UV radiation. Paying a tithe to just live in the cities, every citizen was beholden to the Govcorp who ruled their dome, just to stay alive. Gangs of cyborg agents roamed the streets, searching for enemy insurgents and terrorist actions plagued the days of the citizens as the wars between factions ground ever onward. \nThen the third great technological revolution happened: \nQuantum Teleportation. \nEuroShamataCorp came up with it first and immediately used it to dominate their rivals. Agents were teleported directly into the board rooms of enemy Govcorps, where the CEOs and partners were brutally assassinated in hails of gunfire or torn limb-from-limb by cyberjuggernauts armoured like old Earth crabs. \nScrambling, CEO clones were activated, while EuroShamataCorp began a totalitarian reign of supremacy as their beaten rivals retreated. \nSatellites which had once been the protective domain of each Govcorp could now be plucked out of the sky with ESCorp's ultimate technology. \nSecrets were mercilessly plundered and in their terror, the rival Govcorps banded together to fight the indomitable Goliath that was ESCorp. \n\n&nbsp; \nResting on its laurels, ESCorp played the benevolent dictator, giving ordinary citizens access to their new technology in the form of transport stations. For the first time in a hundred years, people could visit other cities and long-lost relatives on the other side of the world. Pushing the limits of their power, ESCorp began to set up gateways to the Mars asteroid belt and mine for resources long ago depleted on Earth. \nBut in putting their technology at the disposal of the people, ESCorp has assured its own downfall. \nHidden - but still powerful - the conglomerate of beaten rivals began to unravel the secrets of quantum teleportation for themselves. Working stealthily, they wormed their way into ESCorp's structure and placed agents throughout the megalithic corporation. \nWhen the coup finally began to unfold and the murder began afresh, ESCorp revealed their ultimate, hidden weapon - a shielding technology that could prevent inbound teleportation, which would leave only a smear of scattered particles on the surface of an invisible energy barrier. \nBut in their desperation, the Conglomerate set off quantum disruption nukes in all the major cities, blaming EuroShamataCorp for the destruction - claiming that the 'shielding' technology was highly unstable and could rip apart the world. \nFrom the ashes, the surviving citizens escaped through the Mars Belt Gateways, where they watched in terror as the Earth ripped itself apart in an unstoppable quantum war. \n\n&nbsp; \nIn the end, we left Earth. \nKnowing nothing.\n\n", "I should begin by saying that the world around us is much larger than, well, the world. What you would call the 'Earth' is merely a leaf on the branch of a cosmic tree, spanning millions of lightyears in all directions, roots burrowing deep into places so dark, so infinitely old, that the collective lifespan of all the humans that ever lived, ever, would not sum up to a tenth of a fraction of the time it would take to reach the base of the tree.\n\nHow do I know all this? I'm just a human; I went to highschool, hated it, went to college, loved it, and work the same 8:30am-5:00pm from Monday to Friday. I go home on Friday, convince myself that I'm going to make this weekend a productive one, and then flash forward to Monday, with no progress made. Rinse and repeat. \n\nYou could call it 'luck' that I found the Observer, but there are undoubtedly quantum threads of fate woven through a dimension that the human eye cannot perceive. At least, that's what the Observer told me. \n\nWhen I first found her, because she needed a gender for the context of this narrative, she wasn't too happy about my discovery. I didn't realize that I had stumbled upon a sentry assigned to record the Earth's actions for all of time. Having inhabited the Earth for longer than anyone, she was pretty well-versed in the English language. \n\nI asked her why the Creators left the Earth to go pursue other interests. She mulled it over, and through her eyes, I understand what she was thinking. The atrocities. Genocides, wiping out species after species with no compassion, including our own. Killing and raping the underprivileged in a desperate attempt to ascend to the throne of any given civilization. Sucking the planet dry of the Creators' generous resources. Making little attempt to reach out to the rest of the celestial tree. Forgoing the Creators' ideal image of a human in order to engorge on manufactured cheeseburgers, and somehow still managing to wage constant war. \n\nI understood why the human experiment was an experiment gone wrong.\n\nAfter all the tortuous human history I saw in her visions, she didn't need to explain, but she did. \n\n\"In the End, we left the Earth knowing nothing.\"", "The sky was no longer blue. Instead, it shone with the remains of a raging atomic fire. What was once beautiful landscape was now a desolate and barren wasteland. Crumbled ruins marked where once great cities stood and the life that was once held within them. An eerie silence blanketed the world, the screams of the dead and dying had finally fell quiet. In our greed and desperation to consume, we had brought an end to ourselves and everything around us. In the end, we left the Earth knowing nothing.", "Doran stood gazing out the window at immense plains sweeping outwards from his position, running unbroken towards a horizon fifty thousand miles away in a lush, emerald green of tall grasses waving in the wind. Even after being born and raised here on Neptune, this view still had the power to take his breath away.\nAn 18th-generation descendant of original Neptune settlers, Doran's upbringing instilled in him a strong allegiance to both family and to the standards which upheld the society which they lived in.\n\nExcept that lately, say in the last hundred years, a small but growing segment of the population was already rebelling against the very principles which had assured their settler forebears first sustainability, then stability, which strengthened into abundance, confidence and security. And as that surplus deepened and enabled the taming and colonization of vast areas of land, the people built cities, albeit far cleaner than their ancient Earth-bound versions. \n\nThat was all well and good...but it seems that when we finally left Earth, bedraggled and battle-weary, the seeds of Rome came with us, a malignant instinct in our very blood, that no amount of scrutiny or passion could ever displace. Doran had excelled in school, and then later in college, he had shown a keen interest in Terran Studies, fascinated by the motley assortment of peoples and nations on Earth, of competing interests and the blood-soaked battles to gain prominence. \n \nHe remembered one particular holo-set which held an interview of one of the original settlers to Neptune so long ago. The man's name was Dave Green, a used car salesman from Omaha, Nebraska. He told of how close we had come to missing our chance to escape...of the population being whittled down viciously to less than one billion worldwide...of the massive furnaces which had been built to incinerate the dead, their ashes unceremoniously dumped into the deepest abandoned mine shafts available. \n\nDoran recalled how hollow-eyed the man had been, recounting the horrors of latter-day Earth in a deadpan voice that had been burned clean of all emotion or zeal. He once figured, as did his friends, that the majority of settlers had been joyous, vibrant pioneers staking a claim on a new world as a matter of both providence and right...\nAnd those individuals did make up a full third of the people who journeyed here...but the others, while they had the relief of escaping Earth and its torments, were irrevocably damaged from the harshness of their existence. Still, it was those people who contributed more to the establishment of the laws and traditions which built a foundation for their descendants to thrive upon, than did the raucously exuberant folks. \n\n And now? Doran mused. Now there were gigantic industrial zones, the largest of which sprawled over an area of a thousand square miles, fed by an open-pit coal mine the size of North America. Forward teams have already been sent to both Saturn and Uranus to launch new power centers such as we have here, with plans to develop the staggering energy of Jupiter's wind storms already in the testing stage.\nAnd the money being made by such assets is nearly beyond calculation.\nAs Doran turned from the windows and walked back to his office, the words of that long-deceased man from Omaha rang in his mind, haunting him still:\n\n\"We were taught in school that the Statue of Liberty was once a beacon to the entire world, a visual symbol of the hope that a place of true freedom existed...a place where one could thrive apart from tyranny and condemnation...where a person could achieve their dreams. Only, in the end, we ironically became slaves to our self-serving dreams, and lost the very freedoms we had laid down our lives to purchase...\"\n", "We thought we could halt the inevitable. We, mere humans, specks amongst the stars and galaxies, thought we could spit in the face of nature. We knew what was best, we knew how to prolong the life of our sun, we knew how to turn CO^2 into oxygen artificially, we knew how to clone our livestock to feed our infinitely growing population. We, infants in comparison to what was surrounding us, thought we could fight the eventuality that all face. We were wrong. No one can fight Mother Nature. Eventually, everything turns to dust and is returned to what they came from. In the end, we left the Earth knowing nothing.\n\nFeedback is much appreciated", "(tw: suicide)\n\nIn the end, we left Earth knowing nothing. Mama sat at the window, silently watching as everything we knew and could possibly know drew away from us. What would happen to the trees? The pets we weren't able to bring along because they would not have been an \"effective use of space\"? The friends who departed on different ships? \n\n\nGia lay sleeping in my lap, her warm, heavy presence the one thing keeping me from asking all these questions aloud. I wondered what her life would be like, to be drinking artificially crafted water and breathing oxygen-adjacent air. She still sucked her thumb and she was almost three. I was glad Mama was distracted or she would have yanked it out of her mouth. \n\n\nAt first, it seemed fun. They made it seem fun. Once the UN made an official statement that they decided to pool their resources together for a mass space expedition, people took it and, as they often do, ran with it. Political pundits debated whether we were explorers or colonizers. Celebrities began toting custom Louis Vuitton brand NeOxygen pouches. MAC collaborated with engineers to develop mascara that applies smoothly in low gravity settings. It really felt like we were on the brink of something new, something exciting. That was three years before we left. \n\n\nPeople started asking questions. Is it not the fault of large corporations with a disregard for environmental policies that the Earth reached that point in the first place? Where are we even headed to? Are we going to be able to set up a WiFi network? At some point, the doubt became too strong to combat with a brightly colored advertisement for a bodycon spacesuit. \"There needed to be fundamental changes,\" they said, \"otherwise we would just ruin the next planet.\" Some pointed out that many of the corporations that ruined the environment had allyships with the people in our government. Some people marched in front of the White House, peacefully. Loud, but peaceful. They were greeted with military strength counterinsurgency. Most of them died or were severely injured. I think that's when everything changed. There was a clear us vs. them line drawn as our fellow citizens lay incapacitated on the White House lawn. The government stopped tolerating the questions. There were no more open press conferences, no more friendly jokes at the podium. That was two years before we left. \n\n\nA year before we left, it was announced with \"great sorrow\" that each nation would have to have a cap on how many people would be able to leave on the ships. We watched on our TV as Gia played on the living room floor. Mama screamed in frustration and broke a vase. Dad covered his face with his hands. Three people per household were permitted to go, and there would be military personnel insuring that that's all who went. Dad was distraught. He drank until none of us could understand what he was saying. He walked over to Mama and draped himself on her. He seemed to be whispering something to her; she nodded and kissed his cheek, staring straight forward. That night, Mama heard the shot from upstairs and simply looked startled for a moment. She went up there after a few hours and locked the door behind her, and said no one is allowed to go in, ever. \n\n\nWe brought two suitcases stuffed full of our lives, with Gia holding three of her stuffed animals in her little arms.\n\n", "''So what does it say?'' my colleague asked. ''Give it time..'' I replied, tired. To be sent to this backwards planet, not exactly an archeologist's wet dream. You know, I wanted to work at the excavations of Howeria, not this stuff. There were theories that Howeria was the birth planet of us all.\n\n''You know, I'd rather be at Howeria. There are theories that's the mother planet.'' I said to my colleague, ranting.\n\n''Ah, Howeria, that ain't fun. Look, what are you going to find in Howeria? Endless bureaucracy before you can get digging. Most interesting spots have been dug up already, anyway. Sure it's an old planet but come on, Howeria? How many times have you bitched and complained about boring Neo-American archeology?''\n\nHe had a point there. Neo-Americanism was not my subject, no I was a Cinologist. ''True, but.. don't you want to be known as the guy who found the birth planet? The mother of us all?''\n\n''Not necessarily, I just want to dig up the shit that interests me. Look, this old dusty planet, probably just a colony, but every colony has its own distinct culture and shit to look at. You won't find this shit anywhere else, but the shit on Howeria, you can find that everywhere. No man, give me the fringes, the outskirts.''\n\nEh. I shrugged and left it at that as I started moving again over the sand. My suit was uncomfortable, but I had to live with it, since the planet was radiated as hell. Even Howeria, which had been devastated by primitive nuclear weapons three times didn't have this much radiation. \n\n''This planet must've been a casualty in the American-Eurasian War. Still, it's uncommon how strong the radiation is. Everything dates from then but did that time have these kind of weapons already?''\n\n''No.. but could just be that they bombed it with tens of thousands of bombs. Though, that must've been from space, can't imagine bombing anything else in this scale than a planet-size military base.''\n\n''Yeah. Kind of frightens me, to be honest. Imagine the Confederation doing this to Santiago. New Howeria and Yingtse are already like this old planet. You know, Serv had a cousin on Yingtse who didn't get off the planet on time.''\n\n''Eh, don't worry. Politics, you know, it's just a load of bluster. Those bastards will never get to Santiago. In a year, we'll have captured the Captain-General of the Confederacy, I'll bet on it. Anyway, is it done translating yet?''\n\n''Eh.. yes, it's done.'' I held the translation of the great tablet that was projected into the air in front of my colleague.\n\nIn memory of this beautiful Earth, that we in have destroyed. May God forgive us for destroying our birth place, and may the planet recover from our destruction. We abandon her with tears in our eyes, but steel in our hearts, to never wage war and let loose this destruction once again.\n\n''Oh shit.'' we both whispered at the same time.\n" ]	[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 6 ]	[ "1448999235", "1449000355", "1449013814", "1449023842", "1448996339", "1449000998", "1448999428" ]
	[WP] Sometimes it's impossible to say goodbye	11	[ "The soft dirt falling on the cheaply constructed box pattered quietly, not unlike a soft spring rainfall. Jeffrey was the first to awaken.\n\n\"Wha–?\" He tried to sit up, only to feel a solid thump on his head and a hefty weight on his chest. \"Jesus!\"\n\nHe blinked several times in an attempt to adjust to the light, only there was none to begin with. Wherever he was, it was pitch black. He frantically tried to bring his hands up to his face, but his left arm was pinned down. In fact, there was something holding down his entire left side.\n\n\"Fuuuuck,\" droned Sam as he began to come to.\n\n\"Sam! Sam, what've you done?!\" Jeff cried out, beginning to panic.\n\n\"Ahh... Nothin'. I didn't do anything. Where are we?\"\n\nJeff's lack of vision helped to somewhat boost his surviving senses. The musky, piney smell... The feel of unfinished wood underneath his head and hands... The muffled voices and shuffling of shovels against recently tilled soil drove home the shocking realization...\n\n\"Oh my god! GOD! HEY! HEY, STOP!\" Jeff screamed, his free hand banging on the lid of the rudimentary coffin. No response from above; they continued on without hesitation.\n\n\"Sam! What did you do with the money I have you? The money for Jackie?\"\n\n\"I—I haven't had time to get it to him yet...\"\n\n\"You insipid FUCK!\" Jeff wailed even louder this time, now turning his free appendage against his friend, hitting him as best as he could in such small quarters. \"What did I tell you to do?! I can't believe I trusted you, you STUPID shit!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry!\" Sam seemed to catch up to Jeff's speed, finally understanding where they were and what was happening to them. \"Oh my god... I'm so sorry, Jeff. Fuck... I—\"\n\n\"You say one more fucking word to me,\" Jeff's words are now cold and calculating, slowly slipping into a state of acceptance, \"and I'll kill you my goddamn self.\"\n\nThe sound of shifting soil grew further and further off into the distance for Jeff and Sam. Soon they would be completely alone. Alone together forever.", "To my most beloved Ash,\n\nIt has been a month and I still don’t feel right about it. My mind still keeps going back to the night before, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Perhaps if things had gone differently, I would not be writing this letter.\n\nSkyler is someone that I love deeply. Someone that I have always loved deeply. I also love you. I loved you from the time I first set eyes on you. Your cute smile and quiet reliability were my rock. I love you truly and deeply. I love both you and Skyler.\n\nI remember the first time that you held me after the nightmares. I woke up in a cold sweat, still thinking I was there. When you reached out to me, your gentle touch trying to reaffirm me, I hit you without even thinking about it. You have no idea how much that scared me. How my nightmare was becoming real. I ran out of the room, and you followed me. “It’s ok.” You said, holding me in your arms as I sobbed and tried to reorient myself. I was a terrified mess and you comforted me.\n\nSkyler was there when it happened originally. It might have left scars, but it also bound us together through our shared trauma. Skyler was the one who hid the gun. Skyler is the only one who understood the experience the same way I did. When there was no one else to talk to, Skyler listened. Skyler always listened without judgement. \n\nWhen you found us together, you thought I never loved you. I never said that. When you found us, you felt I had broken your trust. I never promised to love only you. I don’t think I could have ever made that promise. My love for you has never diminished or wavered, it has only grown. My love for Skyler also grew in a similar way. Perhaps I should have told you sooner, but if I’m honest with myself I never thought of it. I never thought of my love for Skyler as being like my love for you. When I did realize it, things happened quickly and then they were too late.\n\nI could see the hurt in your eyes. I could see how badly I had screwed everything up. I wanted to say that I was sorry. I was, I am, willing to do anything for your forgiveness of my mistake.\nThey say there is nothing faster than our rumor mill. That next morning, things were silent on the dropship as we donned our armor and prepared. What had once been a vibrant room, filled with jokes and comradery, was now only filled with a desolate and horrible silence. You could not even look in either of our directions.\nAfter the drop, everything was in chaos. Third squad was pinned down near the hangers and I was laying down suppressive fire on the bugs as second moved in to assist. It was my job to make sure the bugs kept their heads down. It was my job to protect second. When the breaches hit, I failed. I failed second squad, and I failed you.\n\nSkyler says it’s not my fault, that no one expected the breaches this far above the hive. However, I’ve suppressed breaches before, but when it mattered, I didn’t. I remember your screams as they overwhelmed our whole platoon. It did not even really register with me at the moment. There was too much else happening. \n\nAs we regrouped, I realized what had happened. “Where’s Ash?” I shouted out over the comlink. \n\n“He was with second when they breached.” Sarge replied. In that instant, I knew what that meant. You were gone. I stood there, trying to process it, trying to register that you were gone. “Get down you Idot!” The Sargent said, pulling me down behind cover. He saved my life. Sometimes, I wish he hadn’t. If he hadn’t perhaps I’d be talking to you right now rather than writing this letter. \n\nIt did not really even sink in until we were back on the ship and I was holding your trooper’s badge. I sat there, numb and alone, just turning it over again and again in my hands. My mind went over every moment of our relationship. My mind went over our long talks after dinner and the jokes you made before our drops. My mind went over how it was my fault that you did not joke with us before that drop. How it’s my fault that everyone was off their ball. How it’s my fault that your badge was going on the wall at headquarters.\n\nI felt so lonely to not have your warm body next to mine at night. Waking up from the nightmares and having no one there. No one to snap me out of it, to remind me that it was all just a dream. That I’m not there anymore. That I am never going to go back to that place again. No one to hold me as the emotions break over me like waves I can’t control, drowning me over and again in misery.\n\nThe psychologist suggested that I try to forgive myself. However, I can’t. What happened is not mine to forgive. It’s yours and I can’t talk to you anymore. I can’t close my eyes and relax as you stroke my hair and tell me that everything will be ok. It’s not going to be ok, not ever.\n\nI can’t even look at Skyler anymore. Skyler reminds me of my mistakes. Reminds me of how we are all grieving the loss of our friends and fellow troopers. We’ve put all of the badges on the wall, except for yours. It’s mine to put on the wall. But I’m afraid because it means leaving you behind as we redeploy. Leaving things as they were when we dropped.\n\nI’m sorry, I can’t say goodbye. I can’t put your badge on the wall. I’m sorry for betraying you. I’m sorry for failing when they breached. I’m sorry for everything. I need your forgiveness, I need your love. Please forgive me.\n\nEmory\n\n***\n\nEmory stopped typing. Emotionally exhausted, Emory looked at the screen. It was all there. Everything that needed to be said to Ash. Everything that had been left unsaid and more. Taking a deep breath, Emory opened a new tab and started typing.\n\n**\n\nTo my beloved Emory,\n\nI know. I’m not alive now to see it, but I know everything and I understand. Do you remember what I said after you slugged me that one night? You were crying in my arms, choking on the tears and repeating the word ‘sorry’ over and over. What I said to you then, I’ll say to you now, ‘I forgive you. I’ll always love and forgive you.’ \n\nI will always love you Emory. I always have and I always will. I understand what it is like to love someone deeply and care about them in ways that I don’t always understand because that is how deeply I care for you. Now that I’m gone, I’m glad that you have someone who cares for you like I did.\n\nI did feel betrayed, I did feel wronged when I saw the two of you together. In time, we would have healed that wound together. Our love is stronger than that. I don’t want you to feel horrible for the rest of your life over something that I would have forgiven you over.\n\nIt is not your fault that I or anyone else in our platoon died. No one could have suppressed a breach that large, much less two of them. You did your best and that is all we could ask of you. Don’t blame yourself for things that are not under your control. Don’t let your life stop over this, go and live. I will always forgive you.\n\nAsh\n", "Well this is weird, here I was at the grave of an old friend and what'd ya know here they are right next to me. It had taken years for me to get over his death and I just happened to be in town. Look at him all confused, he's just like before the accident... Before I knew it he had called out my name and glared at me. Just as I turned to look at him he flung himself at me and... \nListen Mick I've been watching you since I died, and I feel you've done a terrible job as me. Yeah I remember the accident, and I know you pretended to be me to get out of trouble. But you haven't done me justice and soon people will know the truth. \nI awoke in drowning in my sweat. I keep dreaming of that graveyard and the dead town. It's been years since the accident where I became responsible for the death of my friend and my home town dying. It wasn't on purpose, the fire of course, but they knew it was me. Luckily I was bad burned enough that I could pretend to be my now dead friend and they would think he was me. Soon I became him, and a few years later after some surgery I even looked like him. All these years the only thing that's drown out the guilt was alcohol, but now it doesn't. He's in my dreams and everywhere I look! Oh god someone end this for me! I can't handle this anymore I'm going home.", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nThe bar was like that on any other thousand worlds, the cheap decor only matched by its cheaper beer. Signs in both English and Chinese made several fanciful claims, not the least such as having the coldest beer in all of Nova Hong Kong or having passed their most recent health inspection. Smoke clung to the air like a miasma despite the best efforts of the fans and open windows, the local insect life smashing themselves futilely against the screens. Young women in cheap gauzy dresses moved about the space, bringing fresh pitchers of beer and removing empty shot glasses to the various tables filled with boisterous men and women. The lone pool table looked like the surface of Luna, its green felt stained with spilled beer and pock marked by cigarette burns. \n\nOne man entered from the front, the sounds of the packed city street just a hint louder than before. He wore a brown leather jacket, a unit patch sewn on the left sleeve and blood chit on the back. He glanced about the room as if looking for someone before raising his eyebrows in recognition of a face. Making his way past a dozen laughing Guangzho locals he came to the bar, squeezing past a stranger to sit by the familiar face, their features drawn back in remorse. \n\n\"Hey, Conner, where in the hell is Jimmy? I loaned him my boots the other day and I need 'em.\"\n\nThe other man said nothing for a long moment, instead taking a long drag of his cigarette. he tapped the ash into a tray before answering,\n\n\"At the bottom of the ocean, 'bout thirty klicks offshore.\"\n\nThe man who asked look as if struck by a mallet, his face going blank as comprehension dawned. \n\n\"You mean...\"\n\n\"Saw the whole thing myself,\" Conner said, taking a drink of his whisky. \"Pirate Deathstalker* got him as he was pulling out of a dive, stitched an entire burst of Ultra AC/10 into his cockpit. He was gone, Mark, just gone. One minute he was there, the next...\" Lieutenant Conner Graves finished the rest of his drink in one gulp, motioning for the barman to refill it. \n\nCorporal Marcus Horn sat down, all energy sucked right out of him. \n\n\"Christ... I saw him just this morning before the raid, I thought-\"\n\n\"Doesn't matter what you think,\" Conner said, \"The universe doesn't care what you think.\" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the scenes of merriment and devil-may-care partying.\n\n\"A short life and a merry one. That's what they said back during the Golden Age of Piracy on Terra. The only certainties in this accursed life is a bottle of whisky and a good-time girl. So drink, Luke, smoke your lungs black and dip your wick till you're as limp as a noodle. God knows when it might be your last.\" ", "I looked at him.\n\nHe looked at me, for the last time.\n\nWhat could we do but make jokes and dodge what we both knew?\n\nI didn't want my final words to him to be a bad joke.\n\nBut, what could we say?\n\nIt's time to walk away, forever fading into his memory.\n\nI gathered my strength, took one look back.\n\n\"Goodbye\" I tried to say.\n\nI never said it.\n\nSometimes it's impossible to say goodbye.\n\nI looked at him, for the last time, he looked at me.\n\nWhat could I say? What could I do?\n\nSo I just walked off without a word.", "Julia left Mark seven months ago, it was a rainy day, much like today. He remembered their last conversation perfectly, it was something that he ran through his head several times a day. Mark wished he hadn't let her leave, that he'd held her in bed for just a moment longer. How much could have changed had he kept her for just one second more? He tortured himself like this incessantly, clenching her garments closely to his chest as he lay curled in bed. Her gown still held her scent through the tears. \n\nLanguishing over her death in this room alone, he never rose to answer the calls of his family and friends as they offered they tried to offer condolences and support. Many times they let themselves in to the house, dropping off food or tidying up as he wasted away. They tried to convince him that it was okay to feel some measure of grief over her loss, but his extent was far too much. It was best that he move on. His best friend offered to pack up her things and have them donated, but Mark wouldn't hear such a suggestion. These were her things. They belonged to Julia and Julia alone. It was what he had to remember her by. They just didn't understand.\n\nAs he grew increasingly distant, they stopped visiting. Mark just wasn't the same anymore. He didn't speak to them intelligibly, if at all, he wouldn't look at them, return their calls, answer their knocks, or show any sort of appreciation or acknowledgment of their efforts. He pushed them away. In the dark room, he clutched her robe and inhaled deeply as flashes of her smiling face came to mind. Between the patterings of cold, October rain on the windowpane, he heard her voice. It was sweet and soft. Mark felt the sheets tighten and loosen around him, warmly, as her embrace. On days like this, it was as if she was there. It was as if Julia had come to visit him.\n\nWhat the others did not know, is that she had. Julia visited Mark on cold, rainy days, like the day on which she lost her life. She tried to comfort him, to console him, from beyond the grave. Julia did not know that her actions only furthered his separation from the world. So long as she visited him, he would remain as he was. He would never say goodbye. Wallowing in his grief, indulged by his deceased partner, he stayed in bed. Mark and Julia huddled together beneath the sheets in a tight embrace, much like they could have on that fateful day.\n\n-334", "The last dregs of autumn had left brown leaves strewn across the yard. Arthur liked to look at them through the window in the early morning as he drank his coffee. Everything was fine in this neighbourhood. Everything was fine in the city and the state. Everything, in general, was fine. The designers had made it that way, back when the first virtual reality sims came out. It was a delicate balance - too perfect and it wouldn't be believable, but too flawed and no one would want to play. So everything was fine, as it had always been, as long as Arthur had been playing.\n\nHe rinsed his mug in the sink, thinking about the next few days. There were bills to pay on the first, a concert he'd wanted to catch on Sunday, this indie band he'd seen once before. It wasn't the same, obviously, seeing a concert in virtual reality, but it was close. \n\nVirtual reality hadn't really caught on as well as anyone had hoped, in the beginning. But the concept was simple, and it was nice for a lark, so within a few years almost everyone had one collecting dust in their closet or garage. Gameplay was easy - just put on the glasses, push a button, and you're in. When you're ready to go back to the real world, say \"goodbye\" and the system pushes you out. It's as simple as that.\n\nBut Arthur didn't want to be pushed out. Every day, he drank his morning coffee by the window, went to work, ran some errands, watched TV until his eyelids drooped closed. He used his fingers to turn the pages of his favourite book, walked around the office at a brisk clip, hugged his friends when he ran into them on the street. He couldn't say \"goodbye\" and go back to life in a chair, unable to move his limbs, unable to really speak. \n\nThe freedom of movement was like a drug, and there were no consequences if he just kept doping, day in, day out. Somewhere in the suburbs, his body sat in bed. But that wasn't Arthur anymore. Arthur was here, he was moving and alive and so happy, so fiercely, desperately happy. And it was all fine. It would all be fine, forever, as long as he didn't say \"goodbye.\" \n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 6 ]	[ "1449106337", "1449109250", "1449103388", "1449105784", "1449112793", "1449114631", "1449105456" ]
	[WP] In a world where magic is so mundane that it is taught alongside language in primary school, a student spends most of their time reading about fantastical beings who could construct machines to work for them. The stories are just fiction; that is, until such a person actually appears.	68	[ "There is something so brilliant about the thought of a mechanical creation performing a programmed operation. A machine capable of completing tasks without the magical influence of humans. Just imagine, walking into your kitchen and having a machine do your dishes as opposed to casting a charm. Or even having some apparatus to wash and dry your clothing. \n\n\nMy mind went wild with the thoughts of mechanical vehicles and other extravagant tools as I flipped through the book I’d checked out from my school’s library. \n\n\n“Urie, if you don’t stop reading that nonsense you’ll never pass your Enchantments exam,” my mother called, standing at the bottom of the steps. \n\n\nSomehow, she always seemed to know when I was reading these sorts of stories, getting lost in the fiction of it all. But can’t you just imagine- machines that store all of the knowledge from our books! Or even a more instantaneous method of delivering messages. \n\n\n“Urie, I am serious. I don’t hear any studying going on up there,” she yelled again. \n\n\n“Fine, mom,” I grumbled, tossing aside the book and pulling out my wand. \n\n\nAs I began transfiguring my pet frog into various object, as assigned by my teacher, an unusual glowing circle appeared on my wall. Leaving Borga as a small teacup, I stood in the center of my room and observed. \n\n\nMuch to my surprise, out from the green illuminated hole, came two people. An elderly fellow, white hair erratically sticking out from his head, and a confused looking boy who appeared to be not much older than myself. \n\n\n“BLEEHH- M-Morty, do you see this kid. Yeah, he doesn’t even -hic- know what’s g-g-goin on right now,” the old man stammered, a disturbingly green string of saliva dripping down from his lower lip. \n\n\n“Rick, uh, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” the boy mumbled, brows pulled up sympathetically towards me. \n\n\n“Who are you gu-”\n\n“Shh. -hic- See, Morty. No idea,” he interjected, cutting me off and pulling out a strange looking bag. “T-this dimension doesn’t have any machines or electronics, Morty. They have magic. Magic, Morty!”\n\n\nAs he spoke, his hand disappeared into the bag and managed to continue to reach beyond the visible length of the sack. Some sort of enchantment, I assumed. Then, he tossed a strange looking thing onto my floor. It was rectangular and, when it hit the floor, it opened to reveal some sort of moving picture. \n\n\n“Look at his face Morty. He is in awe. Total shock. This is the first- BLEHH -first piece of technology he has ever seen. I mean, what kind of people can cast magical spells and don’t even think to make a T.V. or car?” The old man shouted, hands flailing about as he spoke. \"If he knew that he was in possession of a s-s-special limited edition ZEEELDAHH 3DS, his mind would be blown.\"\n\n\n“Gee, Rick, I really don’t think we should just give him this stuff. I mean, what if his people see and get mad or something?” The boy questioned, continuing to look rather concerned. \n\n\nI tried to speak again but the man cut me off, tossing out all sorts of fantastical objects from his magic bag. Each object looking as if it were straight out of one of my books. \n\n\n“He is going to be a g-g-g-gOOOHHD, Morty. Do you hear me? A god.” The man’s eyes bugged from his head and he looked at me. “Look, just use your magic to build one of these and-and, well cool shit will happen. Just trust us. We’re from the future, or another dimension, or really whatever because based on the look on your face you have no clue what I am talking about.”\n\n\nAfter tossing a book to the ground, a few pages flying into the air and softly floating to the floor, they left from where the came. The boy continued to whine, but his objections were ignored and the madman simply yanked him through the hole. \n\n\nBefore me sat, what looked to be, schematics for all sorts of elaborate fantasy machines. Grabbing the things he had left behind, I darted outside and did as I was told. Before my eyes, a mystical machine began to construct itself. As I waited, I flipped open the golden colored small device that was left with me and began to play. \n\n\nThanks to the mysterious strangers, I became the only person in my world capable of producing machines. Fiction became reality and magic became secondary to brilliant capabilities of my creations.\n", "Ilar blinked at the girl that had just appeared in his backyard. He lowered the book an inch and stared as she looked around and dusted herself off, pushing long brown hair that fell in waves past her leather clad shoulders. Her outfit was very strange, it was leather underneath, but a thicker, almost armored leather, and all around that were strange materials he had never seen before. Shiny black tubes that connected to her joints in a cage that constantly shifted and moved with her. Slung on her back was a small gray bag, and a strange wand was attached to her thigh.\n\n“You there.” She called in a smooth, strangely accented voice. “Could you tell me where I am?” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small box, which light up.\n\n“Umm . . .” Ilar mumbled. “Echtasia?” She twisted her lip. “Who are you?” She smiled and walked over.\n\n“I’m from another universe, she reached down, here on an exploration mission, greetings from Earth.” She lowered her open hand to him. Ilar stared at the girl, slowly glancing down at his comic book. In it a girl in meteorite armor threw lighting with her creations at stone machines built by the corrupt government.\n\n“What are you wearing?” He managed to force out. She looked down at herself.\n\n“It’s an adaptive power exoskeleton, or an A.P.E., it boosts my strength.” She grabbed his hand and with ease pulled him onto shivering feet.\n\n“It’s enchanted?” He guessed. She chuckled.\n\n“Enchanted? No it’s Hydraulic.” The word clicked in his brain . . . Hydraulic? Like with cylinders?\n\n“So it’s a machine!?” He reached out with extreme excitement. The girl took a step back.\n\n“Well yeah? What you don’t have hydraulics?” Ilan shook his head.\n\n“Your universe uses machines!” He assured and picked up the comic book and flipped pages. Holding it out she stared for a good twenty seconds.\n\n“Magic?” She whispered, turning a page. “This looks like a cool fantasy book.”\n\n“No, but, the girl’s the hero, Emilia, she can build things.” He pointed out. “Without incantations or spells or alchemy, her constructions follow her will, let her fly, or breathe underwater without using magical energy.” She stared and grabbed the book, flipping back to the very beginning, staring at the innocent everyday character the book introduced, before he met Emilia, and as a result used all kinds of magic.\n\n“Great Scott.” She whispered. “You use magic?” He nodded.\n\n“Well yeah, but it’s not a class I’m good at.” She shook her head.\n\n“Alright, well . . . come on, I only have a few hours, I need to collect as much data as possible before I get pulled back.” Ilar couldn’t pull her eyes off as she fiddled with the box in her hand. Without even concentrating she flicked and moved lights around. Incredible. “So . . . uh . . . I’m sorry who are you?” He blushed a bit.\n\n“Umm Ilar, Ilar son of Kyr.” She nodded.\n\n“Pleased to meet you Ilar, my name’s Emily, you care to show me around?” The way she said it made his heart skip a beat. Emily . . . no, it’s a coincidence.\n\n“Of . . . of course.” He swallowed. No one was going to believe him, no way. He grabbed the comic book and closed it, tucking it under his arm before heading for the door. She would need a cloak if they were going to go anywhere." ]	[ 11, 34 ]	[ "1449151041", "1449137970" ]
	[WP] it's your first day back in society after spending a year in solitude and hard, honest self examination. As you walk around town, you realize you that you now hear a person's genuine intentions when they speak instead of the modern day language norms which you were once familiar with.	369	[ "\"I haven't missed you in the slightest but I want to make it seem like you are important to me... so I'm lying.\" She said it with such dead-pan happiness, her huge shit eating grin spreading across her pretty face. The bluntness hit me somewhat by surprise and the sharpness of her cruelty took the words from my mouth. The confusion on my face must have been obvious because she opened her mouth again to impart more happiness into my life: \"I really couldn't give less of a fuck where you've been but I'm going to ask anyway because you're not speaking and I feel awkward.\" Something about the way she spoke, in an awkwardly abrupt yet friendly manner, made me realise that something had definitely changed since I left a year ago. \n\n\n\n\"If you don't care, then why would you expect me to answer?\" It was as if I had just slapped her. Her cheeks began to redden as she turned from me: \"Second thought, I want to get as far from you as possible so I'm making an excuse about a doctor's appointment.\" and with that, she walked away quickly escaping my company. \n\n\nThat was weird as shit and more depressing than I could have imagined for my first encounter with a human in over a year. I turned the key to my apartment and flung the door open, no one had been in there for a whole year. I strode in and dropped onto my couch, a thin layer of dust bursting into the air. I felt somewhat defeated and unwilling to move. My renewed faith in the world had been definitively crushed by the first person I spoke to. I decided I would take this time to catch up on what I had missed since being away. So I turned on the news. Things got worse from there.\n\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\nHope you enjoyed what I did with the prompt, tried to take my own spin on it but it's quite late here and I haven't had the chance to read anyone else's replies to I'm not sure how mine is in comparison. Also, I sort of rushed the ending because I am getting really tired but I wanted to write at least an attempt at a reply because I really liked your prompt!", "[Day 1: Bitten by a Deadly Snake](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3vb55s/wp_a_man_bitten_by_a_deadly_snake_begins_to/cxm7ycq)\n\nDay 2: Genuine Intentions\n\nThe next day, I wasn't entirely convinced that I hadn't just dreamed all the weird stuff. I mean, yes, my ankle still hurt. Yes, I was still surrounded by an evergreen forest I'd never visited before. But the moon having shifted phases overnight? That had to have been a venom-induced delusion.\n\nI found a trail and limped my way out of the forest, and my conviction that all the weirdness was just a hallucination was pretty much confirmed when I found a road and started walking into town. I wish I'd been right.\n\nI didn't recognize the town. \"Evanswick, New Hampshire\" didn't ring any bells, but at least I was in the same state I'd left the night before. It rapidly became apparent that this was, at most, a two-stoplight town. There was a gas station, though, so I figured I'd stop in and see if they had a payphone I could use, assuming such things existed anymore. I hadn't brought my cell from home, because why would I? I certainly didn't need GPS to navigate around my own woods, or so I'd thought.\n\n\"How can I help you?\" the man at the counter said. I know he said those words because I heard them, but I also heard him say \"I'm pretty tired today, I don't want you to add too much to my workload.\" at the same time.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" I asked, confused.\n\n\"Do you need help with something?\" The man asked, and he also said \"I'd appreciate it if you didn't attempt to rob me, strange person, just buy something or go, and I don't especially care which.\"\n\nWhen I'd woken up that morning, I'd presumed myself cured from the snakebite except for some residual pain. Now, though, I knew it was either still in effect or had done some kind of damage I wasn't prepared to think about right now. I knew what I had to do.\n\n\"Can you call an ambulance for me?\" I asked. \"I've been bitten by a snake and I'm… I'm doing worse than I thought.\"\n\n\"Yeah, okay, sure, sit over there.\" The counterman said, picking up the phone. He'd simultaneously said \"Just don't die while I'm on shift.\"\n\nI sat down, which was nice. The pain in my ankle was just a dull throb now, and the bite itself had scabbed over. If it weren't for that and the slight swelling, I could convince myself it hadn't even happened. Well, that and whatever brain damage I'd apparently suffered.\n\nThe ambulance didn't take long. The paramedics helped me into the back. One went up to drive, and the other prepared a syringe. \"Just lie back, we're going to sedate you.\" His second-voice said \"Doesn't look too bad, he's probably okay. Going to be waiting in the ER for a while, though.\"\n\nThat didn't sound right. \"Is that really necessary?\" I asked.\n\nHe just shrugged. \"Standard procedure.\" he said. He also said \"Probably his first ambulance trip if he doesn't know that. Doesn't he watch TV, though? The inbound sedation is the only thing the medical shows get right.\"\n\nI felt trapped - part of me wanted to panic, just stand back up and bolt out of the back of the ambulance. But what then? Clearly something was happening that I didn't understand. I must have been hurt a lot worse than I thought. Plus it wasn't as though I'd get very far on this ankle. So I didn't fight. I lied down and got the shot.\n\nI woke up as [someone else entirely.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3vaqfn/wp_you_live_a_long_fulfilling_life_in_a_dream_you/cxm7vee)", "I wish you had never been born\n\nMy mother says she never said that, but I heard it. At the tail end of our conversation, as I cracked a joke about how I'd forgotten to call her for a year, I heard it. It was almost an octave lower than the words before, and barely sounded like her, but there was no one else in the room. I confronted her, and was told that I was imagining things. But I know what I heard. \n\n---\nI thought about strangling you last night.\n\nMy wife whispered that to me this morning, just as I woke up. I said nothing, I hoped it was a dream. Maybe I was just stressed, I had just gotten back from my introspective journey the day before, and it would make sense for a few senses to be crossed. I hadn't seen anyone for a year, maybe I just needed to get used to it. I turned over and hugged her. I want to cry when you touch me. I recoiled.\n\n---\nWhy couldn't you stay gone? We were happy.\n\nMy daughter hugged me, and said she was glad to see me, but all I could hear was the wish for me to be gone. I knew I hadn't been a good father, but had I been that bad? I asked her, I asked whether she'd really missed me, and she said she had, but behind the words there was more. I celebrated when you left. I cried when I heard you were back. I watched her as she walked away. She didn't favor her right leg anymore, I was happy to see. I had regretted that.\n\n---\n\nI didn't understand why anyone would think badly of me. No one was happy to see me. The whispers followed me, everywhere I went. Horrible terrible why is he back why can't he just die that poor family thought they were free and now... I went to speak to my brother in law. We had always been friends, and I needed to hear what he thought of me. Last time I'd seen him, we'd had beers and laughed for hours. This time, I walked up to his front door, rang the bell, and when it opened, I'm glad he's back. \n\nI sighed with relief, someone had missed me, maybe he could explain why everyone seemed to hate me. He said hello, and following his words, I didn't want you to die by anyone else's hands. \n\nI asked him why, why did everyone hate me? No one hates you, he said. My sister told me what you do, he said. You're just paranoid, he said. I will snap a bone for every time you touched my niece, he said. I ran.", "\"War is hell.\" \n\nThat's what my VA shrink told me, anyway. Emerging from West Point I expected to do great things: slay our nation's enemies and be a leader of men. Iraq, Panama, North Korea? It didn't matter, I couldn't wait to go out into the world and prove my mettle as a man. \n\nAn e-mail came from the commander's exec, said he wanted to see me, something about deployment orders. Finally! Smoothing the wrinkles in my dress uniform, I strode down the hallway toward his corner office. As I approached him, I popped a half-assed salute and delivered a forcedly deferential \"Good morning, Sir.\" \n\n\"Sonny, I've got your orders, ready to go serve your country?\" \n\n\"Yes'r\" \n\n\"Good! We're sending you to HQ. Enjoy a year in Tampa!\"\n\n\"What??....Tampa??....yes'r\"\n\nTampa is a scourge of a deployment. Everyone in and out of uniform thinks you're going to go spend a leisurely vacation in Florida while they're still slaving away shoveling snow and wearing sweaters. There's no respect for a Tampa-bound soldier, but there sure as hell ought to be. It's a place to be worked to the bone, 14 hour days, 7 days a week. Not real work, mind you, but the bullshit administrativia that has become all too common in this modern life. Florescent lights, e-mails about troop movements, and meetings kowtowing to the ghost of David Kilcullen. This happens in the sandbox too, but there you at least have some desert camaraderie. The kind that comes with barracks tattoos, metric tons of care package beef jerky and more homo-eroticism than a Disney film. It's not gay if the ship is underway...Ah yes, desert love. None of that was to be found here though. Instead, we shuffled back and forth between lodging and the work center, sneaking chow only when the barrage of e-mails slowed to a dull roar.\n\n364 days later I emerged from my hole. The service keeps it under 365 because then they don't owe you extra leave--bless their heart. \n\nAfter a leisurely direct flight to Logan I deplaned to the usual fan-fare of a returning hero. Dozens of friends and family, patriotic balloons and a 20 foot banner with \"Welcome Home Lt. Armstrong!\" \n\nOh wait, no I didn't. Because no one gave a rat's ass about my deployment to the American South. At least my wife showed to give me a lift home. I embraced her and went in for the ole classic welcome-home kiss, I even leaned her back like she was a 40's nurse in Times Square. \n\n\"I missed you. I love you.\" I softly told her. \n\n\"I slept with 12 other dudes while you were gone, and you'll never know.\" She gently responded.\n\n", "I strolled through the warming sunlight of the late afternoon, relaxing as I watched a group of kids play near the park. It was a fresh sight, as opposed to the dark room in which I had spent the last year. I watched as they kicked a ball high into the air, overshooting the goal they had been aiming for. The ball landed softly on the waving grass near me, and I picked it up, offering it to the kid that came running after it.\n\n\"Who're you?\" he asked, suspicion and-surprisingly, disdain in his voice. \"Give us back the ball!\" This had been nearly shouted. I recoiled in a small start of surprise, dropping the ball into his hands as I did so. As he ran off with the ball, I gave myself a little shake. I couldn't exactly expect kids at their age to have the best manners, but it still irked me. \n\nI sat and watched the kids play for a while longer, their excited screeches resounding through the air. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I looked back to see a woman standing behind me. \n\n\"Get out of here, pedophile!\" she said, somehow maintaining a cheerful tone saying it. This, once more, caught me off guard. I realized that in the year I'd shut myself off that these kinds of things had been becoming more of a problem, but this woman was so frank about her opinion that it shocked me.\n\n\"W-what?\" I asked, still stunned. \"I'm no pedophile!\" The woman stepped back, her face contorting into a look of fear and disgust.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I looked at her, dumbfounded. What kind of a reaction was that? It certainly wasn't a natural continuation to the conversation we had been having.\n\n\"I said, I wasn't a pedophile! I'm just enjoying the park like you and your family!\" I said, growing a little angry. I caught myself, though, and calmed down. The last year would not be in vain, I would not allow myself to lose control like I once had.\n\n\"I'm getting out of here,\" the woman said, covering her mouth. With that, she ran off to the group of children, and plucked one out of the group to lead him away. I looked in confusion at the mother and her child. I had expected hers to be the rude child I had met earlier, since they were both so incredibly open about their opinions. I sighed, and got up. Nothing good had come from visiting the park. As I was leaving, a police officer approached me.\n\n\"Dude, you need to stop being a fucking creep,\" he said, contradicting everything I knew about how police spoke to a suspect.\n\n\"I'm not being a fucking creep!\" I said, trying to control myself. The police officer stepped back, acting in the same shocked manner as the mother before him. \n\n\"That's not how you talk to an officer, and I didn't even say you were a creep!... Right? Man you're crazy,\"\n\n\"Wrong! You just called me a creep a couple of seconds ago, and now you're calling me crazy!\" The officer stayed silent for a moment, before looking at me with a sort of fear in his eyes.\n\n\"You're reading my mind?\"\n\n___\n\n[Part 2!](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3va4m2/wp_its_your_first_day_back_in_society_after/cxm9l7r)\n\nIf you liked this, make sure to check out my subreddit /r/OpiWrites, where I post all of my short stories and a couple of longer ones! Enjoy!" ]	[ 2, 3, 20, 62, 181 ]	[ "1449172555", "1449168747", "1449162562", "1449152472", "1449151560" ]
	[WP] You live in world where all the natural features are the result of two gods falling in, and out of love. Write the legend of how the rainforest came to be.	13	[ "I'm a man of simplicity, I exist simply to create and to destroy.\nTasked with the job of Love and hate, and made a God to carry forth these things.\nunfortunately Love never existed before I existed, Everything just simply was.\n\nShe was beautiful, a true creation, I couldn't even fathom making her, and I could only dream of being the one to craft her elegance.\nShe was the mother of nature, the earth and everything around it. the laws of the universe bent around her and her grace made the motions of all living things.\nI needed her.\nBut tainted by my own creations, I knew I was the only one who could feel this way, for I created and concepted Love, But never did I ever expect my own creation to be the one thing to destroy me. How was I Going to explain this feeling to anything in this universe when it was I who made it.\nMaybe I can demonstrate it, Show it; do something to garner her attention.\nAnything.\nI knew Earth was her prized possession, A rock lain beautifully with life, with its own system of creation being played forth everyday. Seasons to separate the monotony and shifting weather to displace comfort and encourage constant change. she even built it around a Sun and a moon to take on a sort of cycle of activity and rest among the creatures there.\nI knew if I was to impress her, or at least demonstrate this feeling, earth would be the place.\nSo that's where I went, and from there I set forth to find a plot of land and from there I started building. being only able to craft through emotion, I had to improvise, and I did so by influencing the nature. Trees started to sprout rapidly, animals started to ponder, and agriculture started to grow. I showed my Love to the life in this land, for if I was going to demonstrate such a thing to a Goddess, I should at least be able to explain it to mortal creatures as well.\nThe animals started herding as a result, the plants and trees started growing together, even the clouds in the sky started to respond.\nI knew what I was doing was magical, even from a Gods standpoint.\n\nEventually a creature, very God like in nature, yet mortal like the rest of the creatures on this rock. started to peer into what was going on; Curious these animals were. Eventually even I got invested in who they were, \"Maybe I could influence them too\" I wondered. \nthey were obviously made with some kind of hierarchy over the other creatures of this planet, so I believed that showing them Love would make them even better, and the Goddess of Nature would be impressed by my abilities.\nSo I showed them that Love. at first they barely understood it, but eventually they started to grasp the concept. Males and females started to elaborate in dance and impression, to attract one another. The creatures started staying together and building together, they even started making garments and beautiful jewels to adorn themselves with.\nWhat I've done was even more then I thought I was capable of, The creatures even learned how to harness a sun like conductor of heat with mere sticks to keep each other warm.\nI knew she was going to be impressed, I knew she was going to be mine at this point.\n\nTime moved on and what started as a small settlement of trees, eventually became much, much bigger. It was beautiful, The colors, the creatures, the water that pelted off the soft earth. every morning the dew on the trees would glisten and every night the lights in the thousands eyes of the inhabitants would flicker off to prepare for the next. It was only a matter of time before the Goddess would see what has erupted on her fair grounds. For I believed what I had done could only be described as perfect love.\nThe time eventually came when the Goddess would return to her most prized possession, At first sight of her I trembled gleefully, She was even more then I even remember or could even fathom. \"Was there a third god in play\" I asked myself \"Is the God of Luck watching upon me\" I thought.\nThis fantasy didn't last long however, as the Goddess started getting frustrated. \nShe wanted to know why I would do such a thing, almost like I ruined her earth, with the sadness in her eyes. I told her \"This is all for you, I made your Beautiful earth even more so, just look and see for yourself. don't be afraid of the change, try to be optimistic about it.\" at which she replied \"How could I, You came along and sped things up at a rapid pace and disrupted the balance that was present. And worse of all, you tempered with the humans. why are they afraid of their nature? why do they wear those silly garments? Why do they fight for each others attention? and why do they play with heat like its some kind of luxury?\"\n\"Because I showed them Love, the same love I feel for you. I did this to show you what beauty could come of it. I'm just trying to demonstrate you this.\nEver since I first saw you, I knew I had to show you.\" She wasn't having it, and she replied, \"I had to come back here, because human beings I left here to do my work when I was gone have started fighting each other and even Killing each other. they fear their own body, and care more about the worries of others over their own well being. this is chaos.\" \nI knew at this point, that my blinding Love for this Goddess has made me ignorant to the counterpart of Love, which is Hate. I didn't just show this land love, I also gave it opportunity for abhorrence.\nEverything I did gave precedence for odium, and the God like creatures now have to suffer because of it.\nThis realization made my immortal heart shatter, and knowing I only pushed the Goddess away, made me want to touch the likeness of mortality. so I could experience death. a far more comforting place,more so then the sadness now chained to my heart.\nThe Goddess, in her rage, told me earth was a lost cause, and then left abruptly, leaving me to deal with the consequence of my actions.\n\nFrom that day forth I would be stricken with the guilt and pain of this planet. I watched as the humans waged war constantly, I watched as they slaughters animals and each other for fun, and destroyed the very rain forest I built for the Goddess. \nI also knew I was stuck here, to make amends for what I've done. I tried communicating and showing them a faith in love, but it only led to more hate.\nThey started worshiping me more then the message I tried to send. They started destroying in my name and spitting in the face of anyone who didn't believe what they believed. Love eventually became something of stories, fairytales and a means to enhance their consumerism. \n\nNot all hope is lost though, a large few of these humans have started to communicate through wide networks and mechanisms connected to one another\nPeople are becoming more accepting because of this and an influx of charity has been ever so prevalent as of lately. Maybe things can balance themselves out eventually, maybe someday the earth will be presentable again, and maybe the Goddess will come back to see her earth rejuvenated and beautiful again, but for now I can only dream of such a day. \n\n(I apologize if this story isn't quite what you were asking for, but I thought it was a good concept ^_^)\n", "I made the world for you, my love. It was nothing before we came here, just a poisoned sea and a desert that stretched on forever. Nothing could live here but the winds that tortured the land. And then you looked at me and told me you loved me.\n\nI loved you, too, but saying the words weren't enough. I looked out on our world and saw a way to show you how much I did. From the desert I pulled three chunks of earth and formed them into the moons. They dance around each other throughout the night so that you can know the joy you brought me.\n\nYou delighted in them and your happiness turned in to my own. To make you happy was my only existence and after backbreaking days I slumbered in contentment. You marveled at the sandfalls and the painted lands full of color, but I saw it wasn't enough. You were lonely and wanted company outside of my own. I understood.\n\nThe sea I turned habitable. From it came creatures of all sizes and shapes. You were happy again, watching your children grow and change. They were your gift to me and in turn I was amazed at your love for me. So many ways to say you cherished me. I saw it in all of them and they were beautiful.\n\nYou made them walk and think like we do. I couldn't have our children be homeless so the lands they trod became lush and fertile. The trees bore fruit and our children were never hungry. Things were peaceful, but I continued to shape the world.\n\nThe mountains with lakes at the top that drained internally, causing caverns and waterfalls. The cliffs of flowers that blew petals over the lands of our children twice a year. The crystalline forests that reflected the sun in thousands of rainbows. You smiled and all my aches were worth it.\n\nI ventured across the world to build. You told me not to, that things were perfect the way they were. I had to continue, to make you happy. I formed the trench that runs from pole to pole and filled it with wonders.\n\nWhen I returned things were different. Your creatures had turned dark. They had sharp teeth and killed for pleasure. Our children fought with each other. \"This is the way it was meant to be\" you said.\n\nI had to make separations, mountains and canyons to keep them from destroying each other. \"Why, my love? Why the darkness and the pain?\" You said you had missed me when I left and the loneliness had turned bitter.\n\nI was back but your sadness never left. You were angry with me. It was my fault. I tried to show you the other side but you refused to go. \n\nAnd then, one day, it was your turn to leave. \"I do not love you anymore.\" You were gone. And I sat on the edge of the trench I had built and cried. The deepest place on our world filled with my tears until the lands grew trees from the dirt. Clouds formed and the storms were violent, but I didn't care. If I stopped crying I would destroy what I had made instead. So I wept and the clouds dropped thick and heavy over the lands. \n\nIt rains all the time in my home. The lands choke with sorrow and only the most vile of creatures live here. They fight every day to climb high enough to breathe fresh air. None of them live long, because they cannot have what I can't, reprieve. I kill those that make it out." ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1449338111", "1449318063" ]
It could be an epic or a haiku, or anything in between. I don't see enough poems on here.	[WP] Write a poem about something that happened to you this year.	11	[ "Title: Ignoring Ron Swanson's Advice.\n\nTwo roads diverged in a wood, and I...\nI just sat there, watching, thinking.\nTaking neither, awaiting something\nTo tell me which was worth the seeking.\n\nI checked down one, and then the other,\nWaiting for some clarity\nIn choice or thought, but never having\nWhat I need: celerity.\n\nIn many ways I'm still right there\nOn that dusty fork-ed path.\nBut really, I chose both of them\nAnd both my effort were half assed.\n", "The perfect summer end\n\nto the perfect summer day -\n\nthe warmth of the dark\n\nand the stars of the sky\n\nin the smallest hours of morning\n\non this tiny road, black all 'round,\n\nnowhere -\n\nShe stands beside in her bridal gown\n\nstretching her legs, stiff from the ride.\n\nShe shames the stars\n\nand the day's last heat\n\nand the quiet running of distant leaves\n\nin the empty northern night.", "I wanted to talk,\n\nor, I fear, manipulate.\n\nI drove you away.", "I can't\n\nWords that echoed, floated, drifted\n\nIncinerated my pride, poisoned my joys\n\nweighed down who I am\n\ntrampled on my dreams.\n\nI can't\n\nStill echoing as I run,\n\nand I accept that I'm no more capable\n\nfor having gotten away\n\nFor escaping this instigator\n\nOf my own misery\n\nI can't\n\nAnd so I walk into the new class, the first day, of a new semester.\n\nFled my failures, fled my pains\n\nAs I remember, I am \"free\" of them\n\nAnd that deadened joy\n\nthat has been all I can hope for\n\nrises again, and I accept it\n\nI can't\n\nAnd so I meet, new faces\n\nand learn to be an aide\n\nAnd learn again something I love\n\nThe simple joys of construction\n\nOf solutions, as I learn again\n\nthe class I took years past\n\nAnd remember\n\nI was good at this\n\nOnce upon a time\n\nI was good at a lot of things\n\nCan I?\n\nAnd soon, the students turn to me\n\nask my help, want my knowledge\n\nMy skills, my wits\n\nAnd they thank me for being here\n\nAs life begins to breathe anew.\n\nI Can.", "I live within a sinking sort of site, \n\nA rocky and a blue washed stranded beach. \n\nWith leaves that fall and can't drift left or right,\n\nThat neatly lie in place, each stacked on each.\n\nA thousand bits of string go through the air,\n\nThey're tied to branches of the leaf-left trees.\n\nWind blows and strings snap if left unprepared,\n\nAnd flutter as they trail through piles of leaves. \n\nI cannot tie them as my hands are slow'r,\n\nThan pace of wind blown gentle through the boughs,\n\nAnd so the number of the strings is low'red,\n\nThere is no string that is not broken now. ", "There was a day \n\nI must relay\n\nIt happened once this year,\n\nMy boss in a huff\n\nAnd a voice quite gruff\n\nYelled, \"Pack up! You're out of here!\"\n\n", "[Before I start- this prompt made me say \"Holy Shit it's December!\" I need to have more in my life than studying.]\n\nHer white dress flowing in a gentle breeze\n\nAs our parents shed quiet, loving tears\n\nHe stands strait in one of rented suits\n\nThe man who thanked us for being here\n\nWe who'd stood beside them\n\nAs they grew close, and come together\n\nMy brother and I, who wanted nothing more for her\n\nThan the kind of joy he offered\n\nWho remembered the summer we'd all spent\n\nthe three kids, and two in-laws to-be\n\nHere, at home, sharing a roof\n\nThe chaos and the magic of family\n\nAnd known that both of them had found\n\nThe One they'd never leave.\n\n\n\nThe sun was mild, for September here,\n\nIt was hot, but not intense\n\nAs evening came, like a kind embrace\n\nAnd vows were shared, at last.\n\nAnd I passed the Maid of Honor\n\nMy handkerchief, for her eyes\n\n\n\n\nAnd music played, as cheers erupted\n\nLike a flock of birds from trees\n\nAnd of all of it, I'll remember\n\nthe toast, my father gave\n\nRemembering his oldest child's early days\n\nWhen he held her, and felt his world shift beneath him\n\nAs something else began to matter more\n\nAnd recalling an old baby monitor,\n\nthat he watched, to know her heart was beating\n\nAnd thanking his new son-in-law\n\nThat he didn't have to worry, anymore." ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4 ]	[ "1449391805", "1449391672", "1449395506", "1449387741", "1449388417", "1449389222", "1449386532" ]
	[WP] A time traveling assassin is sent from the barren future to the past to kill a man who eventually caused the downfall of human civilization. But the assassin realizes one thing - that man is his great great great great great grandfather.	3	[ "\"Wait, seriously?\" Fred asked.\n\nCarl Henry stared straight at the towering giant of a time machine before him and tired to his compatriot Fred.\n\nHe would be shortly piling himself onto that thing and going back in some kooky sci-fi adventure to murder his great-great-great-great whatever grandfather to restore balance and order to the future.\n\nOr something like that.\n\nCarl could not tell. He had just failed his drug test and was being cleared for travel anyway. This was probably all just a dream anyway.\n\n\"Yeah, look. I've got the whole family tree down according to Grannie's little black book here. William Birchwood Henry, right next to \"Kandy\" Edith Maxwell,\" said Carl.\n\n\"Goddammit... Wait, will you still do it anyway?\"\n\n\"Don't think that's possible. If I did do it, I wouldn't be here and this whole Save-The-World organization would've been ended since it started.\"\n\n\"Motherfucker- Wait, is that how time travel works?\" Fred questioned, even though he was supposed to be the stereotypical genius in charge of time-traveling shinengans... shinanigans... shinananigans?\n\nShenanigans!\n\nCarl shrugged his shoulders, \"I don't know what theory we're going with. Multiple dimensions that branch off?\"\n\n\"Then, there'd be no fucking point in doing any of this.\"\n\n\"Mhmm... Singular timeline seems wrong cause of the grandfather paradox.\"\n\n\"What about Novikov's self-consistency?\" Fred asked yet another question, therefore reinforcing his position as a literally useless exposition character.\n\n\"There really would be no point in doing anything then. I go back to shoot him, I'll probably end up fucking great-great-great-great-great granny Kandy six ways from Bangkok and wind up with mutated offspring. Resulting in this whole dumb future where I have to pay taxes to a faux-American government in the form of aluminum bottle caps.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait, wait... You telling me you'd bang your own ancestor?\" Fred cringed a little, knowing that he was in the presence of a creepy-ass motherfucker who'd bang his own great-great-great-great prostitute-grandmother.\n\n\"Oh most definitely. I still have photographs of her. Wanna touch them?\"\n\n\"I think you meant 'see them,' right?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nCarl shoved the colorized photos he'd been storing up his lower-right asscheeks into Fred's hand.\n\nThe little slips were warm and sticky. Whether due to sweat and shame, excrement, or just sweat, no one could say.\n\nActually, I could answer that. It was the \"sweat and shame\" kinda sweat.\n\n\"For fuck's sake, Carl.\"\n\n\"Up yours, Fred. How was this time travel thing gonna even work anyway?\"\n\nFred teetered nervously. He had not been expecting to question his wild and crazy-smart form of science at all. As was the weakness of all self-proclaimed tech geniuses. \n\nNo, for real. No smart person wants to have to explain to you why what they're trying to get to work works. If they do, they don't have the lungs for it. \n\nYou know all the techno-blabble-blab that you hear from every other freckle-faced redhead or skinny-ass-fuckboy next door types of characters? Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. In movies, tee-vee, or even a book. They're retarded. All of them. You know who's the smart one in all of those books? It's the guy who's visibly freaking out. Or, you know, the dead one.\n\n\"We were... going to attach a nuke to a rocket and send you flying into outer space.\"\n\nSmart. Real fucking smart, Fred.\n\nYou're a dumbass, Fred.\n\nFuck you, Fred.\n\n\"A nuke.\"\n\n\"Yes, a nuke,\" Fred nodded.\n\n\"Onto a rocket?\"\n\n\"Mhmm?\"\n\n\"That's the dumbest fucking thing I've heard in my life,\" said Carl.\n\n\"You got better ideas?\"\n\n\"Well. We can do whatever every other genius in history did when they were bored, relatively well-off in a shitty country, and feeling kinda lonely with themselves.\"\n\n\"We get high and die virgins like Newton?\" \n\nThat was the smartest thing that Fred ever came up with. Good for you, Fred.\n\n\"Damn straight,\" said Carl as he stripped himself down to his underwear and started drinking straight from the rocket-nuke's jet engines.\n\nOn that day, when humanity was supposed to do something involving bullshit time-travel, the smartest minds of the era decided to get as blazed as fuck instead.", "Aaron stepped out of the white, glowing time machine. He straightened out his jacket, which carried over 20 different firearms. Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a remote and then pointed it at the time machine. The machine vanished into thin air. In his left hand he had a picture of a man, with a caption that said \"Vermon Abrahamsen\". \n\nThis was the man that would bring ruin to human civilization.\n\nIn the future, most lands were barren and unable to harbor any life. With most farms destroyed, hunting was the only way to find food in most areas. People began to form tribes and clans, becoming almost like their cavemen ancestors.\n\nAaron didn't live like this, however. He lived in a fortress. Only the people who descended from the rich lived there. Aaron worked as guard for most of life, sitting at the top of a tower ready to snipe anyone who attempted to break in.\nHe was good friends with man who ran the fortress, Dr. Maslow. Ever since Aaron was little, Maslow had been working a secret project, which he claimed would \"bring humanity back to the way it was before Abrahamsen's reign of terror.\" \n\nAaron volunteered for the mission. Everyone else thought it was crazy, but Aaron figured it was the only way. \"The world is beyond fixing, I'm afraid,\" Maslow had told him before he left. \"The only way is to prevent the devastating wars from happening. I only have one machine, so please don't mess up!\"\n\n\nAaron sat there in an empty building, keeping his eye on the streets. Everything looked so lively, unlike where he came from. He considered staying after killing Abrahamsen, but he wanted to check and see if it worked. Maslow claimed he and Aaron would be the only ones who remember. Since they both had time traveled before, they both would remember any changes made to the timeline, but this was only a theory. Maslow only used the machine to test it and made a small change, but nothing big. No one knows what change he made but him. Aaron figured Maslow's theory was wrong, and he would be the only one to remember, as he made the change. \n\nA group of soldiers walked across the street, and the one in the front matched the man in his picture. Bingo, he thought. He pulled out his sniper rifle and zoomed in at the group. Everyone in the group was listening to Abrahamsen talk. Heh, he had his charisma from the start. It was interesting to him to watch Abrahamsen slowly make his way up to the top. As he was about to make his shot, he noticed something on Abrahamsen's chest: a neckless. He zoomed in on it. It was a gold coin with 4 small rubies on it. In the center was an Irminsul(a norse symbol). Huh, that's strange. There's an Irminsul on a my neckless too. Arron pulled out his neckless, it was a rusty gold color, and there was a faded Irminsul. There was 3 rubies instead of 4, but there was also a dent in the neckless, which was where a fourth rubie would have probably been. Whatever, people can have the same necklesses. He positioned himself and tried to take the shot again, when he noticed Abrahamsen's neckless flip. On the back was the hammer of Thor. Aaron put down his sniper rifle. The neckless he had was passed down from generation to generation. According to his mother, the neckless was unique to their family. While many others can have an Irminsul, they also had a hammer. But my mother's maiden name isn't Abrahamsen, he thought. Then he realized she told him she got it from her mother.\n\nNow Aaron was unsure what to do. If he killed Abrahamsen right then and there, he would no longer exist. Sure, the world may have been saved, but he wouldn't exist. He wouldn't have even been born. Everyone else would get to enjoy the wonders of the ancient world, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't be the only one gone either, he would be killing his mother, and his grandmother. Now he hoped that Maslow would remember, that way he would still exist in someway. You know what, I'll just get it over with. I came here to do a job, and I will do it.\n\nHe once again got ready to take hist shot. The scope was right on Abrahamsen's head. His finger was on the trigger. \"Alright, on the count of three,\" he said to himself.\n\"One\"\nHe stopped shaking.\n\"Two\"\nHe was ready to pull.\n\"Three....\"\nAaron's eyes widened. He immediately put the sniper rifle back into his jacket and ran back to his time machine. He made it visible and got back in.\n\n\n\n\n\nFast forward years later, a hospital door opens. People crowd around the hospital as a proud man wearing a military uniform decorated with medals. He surrounded by soldiers, prepared to shoot anyone that would attack the man. Behind him, was a woman, and she was holding something. The man waved at the crowd, but wouldn't go near them as he knew someone some people would want to kill him. His guards were not able to stop what happens next. A loud bang followed by a splat was heard. On the ground was the man, with a gaping hole in his head and blood all over the floor and his uniform. The woman began to cry, begging him to wake up, even though she knew it was hopless. The thing in her hand? A baby, and it too was crying. Many blocks away stood Aaron, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He put the sniper rifle back into his coat pocket, and pulled out a remote. The time machine re-appeared. As he walked towards the machine, he pulled out his neckless. It had all four rubies intact, and was in must better shape than before. He notice a small red stain next to the Irminsul. He scoffed, and started the time machine." ]	[ 1, 1 ]	[ "1449417379", "1449423897" ]
	[WP] Write a guide by an alien species on keeping a pet human	41	[ "The first thing to consider when your little one is begging you for a pet human is this: are you planning to use a human breeder as your source? Or are you the type of alien who feels it is only right to adopt an unwanted human from the shelter?\n\nNow there are many guides out there to explain the care and keeping of your human. But choosing the right human for you is just as important. Make sure you have the time to commit to your new family member. Even the most well-behaved humans require time, effort and love. \n\nTry to find a human that fits into YOUR lifestyle. Are you active? Getting closer to retirement? Do you have other pets to consider? \n\nMake sure every single member of your family is ready for your new human before adopting. And remember, both an older pet and a baby require work and have drawbacks. Its about finding the path that is best for you and your new human.", "ATTENTION!\n\nDo not take human out of box until you have prepared a suitable environment. Although your organic has been shipped cryogenically frozen and will last indefinitely, once thawed they require strict temperature and atmospheric controls. Failure to do so can result in permanent damage or loss. We recommend our My First Primate (TM) Class M environmental enclosure. Setup in as little as 15 minutes!\n\nCongratulations on your first Human!\n\nWe at Exotic Flora & Fauna would like to welcome you to the community of organic-owners. Although they require a little more care than other pets, they will reward you with their charmingly illogical behavior and their uncanny ability to seem almost sentient. \n\nWarning: Although humans are very similar to shrubs, flowers, lichen, and other decorative organics commonly found in homes, please keep in mind that humans require O2 instead of CO2 to respirate. One should never, ever attempt to replicate humans through budding. Humans cannot bud without external assistance and attempts to do so without expert supervision is usually fatal for the human. (see Reproduction)\n\nCare and Feeding:\n\nSurprisingly, humans require oxygen, water, various organic molecules to thrive. Unlike most pets, rather than being fatal, extremophilic humans are well-adapted to their toxic environment and are able to metabolize these poisons into useful electrons. Although very expensive and inefficient, their ability to survive in extreme environments means they have very little competition for local resources. \n\nFact: Humans went unnoticed for nearly 30 million years because of the extreme environment of their home planet. \n\nAlthough some enthusiasts attempt to supply oxygen by providing their habitat with photosynthetic organic plants, for most owners we recommend the far simpler use of an electrolytic cell to separate H2O into oxygen and hydrogen. The hydrogen can quite easily be diverted into a nearby fusion reactor. \n\nHumans can convert a wide variety of organics into energy in their internal reactor, however, they can easily become ill when fed the wrong diet - not all organics are equal! They require a dizzying amount of micronutrients to remain healthy, and it is recommended to feed them a certified nutrient paste. Although it is tempting to feed them a cheap solid or liquid diet of simple carbohydrates, and they appear to enjoy such a meal, they will begin to noticeably degrade in as little as 15 days without a proper diet. Humans are generally unable to regulate dietary needs and should be fed at least once a day. \n\nExercise: Care must be taken because they are prone to overeating, especially if not exercised daily. Overweight humans are lethargic and prone to many health problems. Humans left to their own devices often do not exercise, and because their bodily processes are almost entirely autonomic, they are unable to regulate energy storage. Because of their native planet's extreme axial tilt and the resultant solar variability, humans have evolved to autonomically massive amounts of energy for their mass and will continue to store energy almost indefinitely to the point of energy storage causing partial or complete immobility. For this reason tubal feeding is generally discouraged.\n\nHumans should be kept at approximately 298+/- 3K. Although they have a very narrow range of temperatures they can survive in, they have significant thermoregulation abilities by converting stored organic molecules into heat through a complex combustion process. In addition, their mobility allows them to take advantage of any insulating material - it is recommended that their bedding consist of a wide variety of insulators in different thicknesses to allow them to thermoregulate. \n\nImmature Humans:\n\nIt is recommended not to attempt to raise a human less than 8 years old. Humans require extensive socialization and even greater care when young. Humans raised from an earlier age should generally be kept from encountering other humans as they are incapable of interacting with socialized humans, particularly wild or feral humans. Warning: As with all cases of intentionally severely crippled Intelligences, it is ILLEGAL to create a simulated human. If you suspect your human was raised in a holographic suite with simulated humans, please contact your nearest Ethical Board and report this violation of basic sentient rights.\n\nPlease spay and neuter your humans! While all responsible breeders spay and neuter humans meant to be pets, it is not uncommon for baby farms to attempt to avoid studding fees or worse, to run illegal humanfights. These should be avoided because such farms almost never have sufficient genetic stock, and their humans will usually suffer from extreme inbreeding, leading to many health problems. With access to special facilities, humans can also be cloned quite easily. Due to their extremely short lifespan, many owners choose to clone a favored pet. Should you lack a local commercial facility, man research laboratories have the necessary equipment to clone a human and grow it in vitro, due to their need to eliminate errors from genetic variability.\n\nRemember, with a consistent, firm, and loving manipulator rod, your manny will grow and learn to be the best human possible.", "Humans are incredible creatures. They are masters of grace and cunning, strength and dexterity. Their mere presence inspires awe in children and adults alike.\n\nHowever, like all apex predators, humans are incredibly dangerous when handled incorrectly. As such, the vast majority of this guide is dedicated to safety procedures.\n\nA special thanks to Kwaan Tevikit and Shimbu Mos, whose tireless efforts, and ultimate sacrifice, greatly advanced our knowledge of these amazing beasts. May their life's work bless you with a longer career.\n\n###What If The Rest of This Book Fails You And a Human is Loose\n\nIf you are not an expert handler, avoid encounters with a human at all costs. The strength of a human is common knowledge, but few remember that they are rip-your-appendages-off-and-beat-you-with-the-bloody-ends strong^1 . If you wish to be a hero, find another means.\n\nHumans have incredible senses. As natural hunters, their senses are tuned specifically to locate others. They can see at eight times the resolution you can. Although they posses binocular vision, their cone of vision is a third of a circle wide on the horizontal plane. If you crossed their line of sight, at any distance, they are likely aware of your presence. And sometimes they'll detect you by nonvisual means.\n\nIf you think it hasn't detected you, remain calm, but move away quickly. If you are visually hidden, or in a secure room, then it is okay to stay there.\n\n*If it has* detected you, remain still and calm, even if it approaches you. They are faster than you. They may not want to hurt you, but fleeing may change their mind.\n\nDo not fight back.** Fighting back only frenzies them more. If there is a group, resistance can frenzy the group.\n\nIf the above has not stifled your warrior spirit, please read the following to better understand just some of their abilities:\n\n* Their furcated appendages provide great dexterity, but finesse does not imply fragility. They are as durable as stone, and can exhibit great, undirected bursts of strength. This deadly combination means it will defeat you, even if you think you have the upper hand.\n\n* They can react to stimuli almost instantaneously. If you and a human stood on opposite ends of a medium-sized room, you probably cannot ready a weapon before it reaches you.\n\n* Their eyes are their weakest point, but they normally posture themselves such that they are well above your reach.\n\n* Their second weakest point is their reproductive organs, but by striking them you will only inflict temporary pain at the cost of your brutally efficient death.\n\nFootnotes\n\n1\\. This actually happened.\n\n###Containment\n\nHumans must be kept within confines that are solid on all sides (meaning no bars, but the surfaces may be transparent), free of any rigid objects...", "Frequency: 1420 MHz \n\nOrigin: Saggitarius A\n_______________________\n\n0111000001100101011011100110100101110011chan\n\n/animalia/\n\n Thread: What do you think of human pets? \n\nI'm hooked to a seller who claims to have a few who understand art and can even create good music. Aren't they supposed to be dumb as a duck? How can they be conscious of even a simple melody but not be able to calculate the first 10³³¹ digits of Pi?\n\nby worgox beeblebrox 5:31 a.m\n\nThis is illegal. And a waste of time. It's not our purpose to care for weaker beings but to advance our beings in the most efficient way to a state where we transcend the laws of this universe, how does this help with anything at all?\n\nby independent thinker number 430287 5:32 a.m.\n\nThis is just like, your opinion, man.\n\nby worgox beeblebrox 5:33 a.m \n\nThose Emperor shills are getting everywhere nowadays aren't they? When will the Empire understand that we are not getting anywhere without remodelling our data processing centers? We need to do anything that helps us projecting new DPCs. I'm with you Worgox, if this is true it must be investigated. And even if it's not they are kinda beautiful anyway, so there's that. Do you know how to take care of them? My last attempt of a stage 1 specimen pet ended in a suicide...\n\nby Wally 5:40 a.m\n\nOh yeah Wally, I'm actually getting them for their natural beauty. I don't ngenerally care much about, uh, stuff. Well anyways I've got some general tips from my guy, here they are:\n\n \"They need air that simulates Earth's atmosphere at all times. They function even better with a higher quantity of oxygen. \n \n Humans need absurd amounts of water just to survive, and they love using it to get clean, to play with it and waste it around for no reason. It needs to be cleaned everyday as they carry microorganisms that multiply in water at high temperatures.\n\nAltough Earth can have -40ºC to 50ºC temperatures, keep their room at around 5ºC as it makes matters easier with the water always in a liquid state. \n\nInfo on their nutrition can be found on Encyclopaedia Galactica and generated by a common Sirius Cybernetics Corporation Food Automaton. \n\nThey work well in groups and easily bond together if born away from home. First-generation humans should not be with tamed humans at any time. \n\nThey understand signals and our written alphabet, but can't hear in our pitch. It is very worth learning their spoken and body language as they communicate much much more efficiently in that way. \n\nThey love having space to run and tend for their own babies. They need rewards for the activities that you want them to do. Negative feedback does NOT work well. Affection, getting to be with other humans, food not from the Sirius Cybernetics and a big box of water are all good rewards.\n\nHumans spend a third of the day hibernating. We have no idea why they need it and haven't yet found a way to fix this behaviour. \"\n\nI'm thinking of getting a pure-blood Guarani-Kaiowá and some Scottish females with big, smooth foreheads\n\nby worgox beeblebrox 5:43 a.m \n\n I do actually have a few of them in my underground bunker. I'm trying to get them to mate but the males are too small yet. Yes, they understand music. Their data processing center is very inneficient, but highly interconnected, so they have some untapped potential waiting to be harvested. \n If it's not too risky on your planet I highly recommend it since they will sell for really high prices after their solar system is moved out of the way by the Zorgons. [This speech](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWQcn3zWtE4) by Professor Hehu 42 explains why most of their life won't survive it.\n\n by mike jack II 5:55 a.m. PDT\n\n_________________________________\nStored on SETI's Large Data Storage Nº 217 in 12/09/2015 6:01 am PDT", "### Keeping your Human in Mind\n\n#### Forenote\n\nHumans are unpredictable and often clever creatures which usually is one of the main reasons why we have them. Remember that with all aspects mentioned here you must always ensure that you keep your human under control. They are amoungst the most graceful and interesting creatures to interact with and a ton of fun to conversate with, however they nonetheless are animals and must be treated as such.\n\n#### Section 1: Bare Necessities\n\n##### Fueling your human\n\nAs with all earth based animals they require a few things\n\n1. H2O - This composes about 75% percent of the human body.\n2. Carbon Based Energy Store, Protection, and bulding chemicals - the best is from other life forms, particularly ones found in their natural habitat.\n 3. Electromagnetic facilitating elements - This is very important for their central nervous systems. NaCl is particularly important here.\n\nWhen purchasing these aspects, its best to purchase from earth based pet stores as using non-native chemicals to keep your human alive will often cause abnormalities and possible early death.\n\nIts also important for you to provide them with bacterias and fungus to consume as their digestive system is based off other life forms breaking down foods for them to digest easier.\n\n##### Cleaning their Excrement\n\nHumans are particularly disgusting. Here are the main things you must worry about \n\n1. Skin Excrement - Routine H2O soaks, dead cell removal, keep living quarters at 75 degrees - At all times, humans shed dead cells and assorted chemicals along with water. This will make a room become filled with their stench and will cause particular build up in each area they have hair (note: some have hair nearly everywhere). Even hairless models have these problems.\n2. Digestive Excrement - Provide an area for these tasks and give them a way to get rid of it - Humans don't like their own excrement as much as you. Provide a way to get rid of it and they will be happy to do it for you and themselves.\n\n##### Common abnormalities to take care of\n\nHumans are multi-cellular organisms, as with all multi-cellular organisms, not all cells are the same or have the best interest of the whole. Here are some things to watch out for\n\n1. Digestive System Cells get into the blood stream or eat away at other cells\n2. Rogue Cells that can no longer be controlled by other cells\n3. Nervous System abnormalities can cause more than just an interesting birthmark or a sixth finger. This can cause your human to become unable to do basic functions or enjoy life.\n\n#### Section 2. Mental needs\n\nObviously, you bought your human not to clean up their residue but for their mind! Lets get into it!\n\n1. Loneliness - Humans need interaction. When your humans are driven to madness, though it may be interesting to watch, this is usually a result of their internal loop repeating a select few memories and building around eachother. This will also cause each conversation with your human to be about the exact same topic or no topic at all. By giving them a variety of beings to speak and interact with, they will be far more interesting in the long run.\n2. Purpose - Humans when not given a purpose will start to attempt to dominate one another or yourself. Earth animals have their origins in predatory cellular interactions, as such they instincts that will likely become dangerous to others. By giving them a purpose, you make the human feel as though they are part of a multi-organism structure and will be much more freindly towards other animals and beings.\n3. Talents - Humans all start nearly completely talentless. However, you must push them to become useful otherwise they will find ways to entertain themselves without ever becoming great.\n4. Success - Humans need success in their lives otherwise they will often stop doing activities. Giving them small easily reachable tests will make them feel like they are worthy of life, though its important to always make them more difficult, otherwise they will think that life is boring.\n\n#### Section 3. Things to Avoid\n\nWhen raising your human, they will try to do many things to get you to do what they want. Here are some things to avoid\n\n1. Too many conscience altering activities - Humans will very willingly go into a comatose state if you let them. Often searching for new experiences and curious what different things do, they are particularly interesting to watch as they make fools of themselves. However, if these materials become readilly available, they usually are not smart enough to stop on their own usually causing the necessity to put them down from aggressive requests.\n2. Reproductive Activity - Its important to sterilize your humans unless you are breeding. Humans are attachment based creatures causing your males to often bother the females or if the females are interested very attached to the male. By removing their reproductive desires, this makes your humans interactions with other humans much better\n3. Knowledge - Usually, you can provide your human with dumb facts or reptitive competitions and they will be satisfied. However, humans with knowledge will attempt to start taking things apart in your house and/or attempt to use tools in your home and put themselves, your home and possibly the universe in danger. Of things to definitively keep them away from is knowledge of nuclear, electric, chemical and spiritual technologies.\n\n\n#### Enjoy your Human\n\nYour human is a special creature like all animals. Curious, amazing, clever and beautiful animals. You never know whether they are trying to get something out of you or genually appreciate your help. You never know if they are \"building something to help the universe\" or simply building a sex toy. Remember to keep a watchful eye over your human, but not too watchful or else they won't get into trouble! If you ever hear about Human abuse, file a complaint to the Department of Rights for Lesser Beings.", "First thing's first. It is highly advisable not to have a single human pet by itself. Humans do not like to be alone.\n\nThey are generally fearful creatures and they feel comforted around one of their own species. Be aware that keeping two or more human pets can be tricky and is only advisable for expert human owners. Humans are able to communicate with each other and may try to plan to attack you or to attempt an \"escape,\" despite how comfortable you make them.\n\nIf you do not want the hassle of managing two or more humans, another strategy is providing the human another mammal to care for. Humans tend to be comfortable around other mammals such as cats, dogs, horses, monkeys, giraffes, and elephants. In most cases, humans are fearful of large cats, such as tigers and jaguars. If untamed, these large cats may attack and devour your pet human. Be aware.\n\nHumans like their crude devices. They are highly entertained by what we would consider low-tech video games. They also like to spend time perusing through their version of the \"internet\" which is mostly filled with images and stories of human sexuality, as well as humurous cat pictures. You should provide some sort of pseudo \"internet\" to keep your pet human entertained.\n\nYou may also keep some books from Earth for your human. Some child humans also enjoy plush toys, although most child humans would also prefer some sort of crude tech device to entertain them.\n\nYou may also try to teach your human how to speak our language. They are able to learn simple commands.\n\nHumans live an average of 20 years, which in human years is 100 years old! So remember, even if your human is only 10 years old, it's 50 years old in human years.\n\nAbove all, remember to be kind to your pet human. The Humane Society will repossess a human that is mistreated. Treat your human with kindness and love, and you can expect it to live a good, long healthy life!" ]	[ 1, 3, 6, 6, 14, 27 ]	[ "1449648948", "1449634885", "1449630718", "1449648781", "1449625519", "1449624553" ]
	[WP] In this world people fight for their jobs. No literally. Winner gets the job.	9	[ "Most people would rather not work. Usually, you can survive on scraps or on fresh cadavers. But when it really is bad and no one is dying, or someone is hogging all of the meat, people flock to the center and line up in front of the iron gates. If you want a good chance, you go early, so you can stand at the front, but no so early you get squeezed against the metal or trampled as more and more of the mob accumulates behind.\n\nOnce the gates open, you run. You run like you aren't hungry, until you reach the plinths. The climb isn't easy. The polished marble offers little to grab on to, so the first few waves are pulled back and stepped on as a makeshift ladder. Once a few dozen reach the top, they are hard to beat. A kick to the nose will usually be enough for someone to fall back into the mob. Even if it doesn't kill, the mob will take care of that. After a while, no one else wants to attempt the climb, either because they're convinced they won't succeed, or because there is enough flesh to go around on the ground.\n\nThe relative few who make it are carried off in carts into one of the inner rings, to be sent off to mines or to work as servants for the beautiful ones. Once finished, if they survive, they are paid with enough to sustain themselves for maybe 2 or 3 days. Some say risking the fight is worth it, just to eat something other than your brothers and sisters. Others go in for the fight. For the extreme pleasure of murdering others even more brutally and savagely than usual. I do it because I'm good at it.\n\n=\n\nFlavianus looked over to his right, where Chiara was gorging on sweet fattened rabbit leg which had arrived that morning. Flavianus was usually jealous of Chiara, for she was fatter and slower to move than Flavianus himself, but on this day, that worked as an advantage. A new slave had arrived, and Flavianus was able to get away from the smell just slightly faster. As he thought about whether to eat or to drink next, his stupored mind wondered just for a second where slaves came from, that they smelled so abhorrently. Then the smell of freshly fried bacon enveloped lobster hit his nostrils, distracting him once more.\n", "\"Hello everyone, and welcome to The Abercrombie Games!\" cried out Morasian Bodasian, raising his pristinely manicured fingers towards next spring's clothing line theme of sky blue. The crowd beneath him, dressed in their Abercrombie polos and chinos all cheered along, though Morasian could taste their anxiety on the air. It would be next season's cologne.\n\n\"Who among you beautiful and stylish people will emerge as the beautifulest and stylishist for the rare, coveted prize of a job with Abercrombie?\"\n\nThe crowd cheered, shouted, yelled, pouted, and did their best poses at Morasian, hoping to catch his eye, but in a field of ants only a beetle stands out. The next closest thing to a beetle was Donker, the sallow-faced, greasy-haired stick in a second-hand Abercrombie fitted button-up. He was there for one reason, and one reason only: survival, and he would do anything, everything necessary to ensure that he attained that barely minimum-wage salary.\n\nWhile everyone else screamed for Morasian, Donker's few remaining teeth ground together; there were a lot of guys and girls here, many of them a lot fitter than he, but from the look of them, they were all pampered and preened and pruned to trimmed perfection. It was only then that he noticed the small circle of space around him in which none of the models stepped.\n\n\"That's what I like to hear!\" cried Morasian, stretching his face as far as it would go to demonstrate what felt like a smile. \"You all know the rule- nothing is off-limits except the clothes!\"\n\nThe doors of the arena opened and large, muscled tan men pushed out carts of various melee weapons. Donker tip-toed through the crowd, which parted easily for him. It would only be a few moments until Morasian ordered the bloodbath begin, and Donker wasn't going to be caught with his chinos down.\n\nOn the cart closest to him was a large and shiny broadsword- too heavy, even though it looked the most tempting. There was a sledgehammer- still too heavy for his wiry arms. A spear? Too impractical. But then, there it was; it took a slightly different angle to see it, and he'd have to knock the cart over to get it, but it was just what he needed.\n\n\"My beautiful bodies,\" cried out Morasian. The muscle men retreated through the arena doors, and they were sealed shut. Donker made his move. \"Begin!\"\n\nLike a hawk through the air Donker charged the cart; he was easily fifty feet in front of everyone else, as they had stopped to do their best final poses before Morasian told them to get on with it already. He shoved the cart over, moved the other melee weapons aside, and pulled out his prize.\n\nThe chainsaw roared to life, barking like a dog at the models who now wore shock rather than their typical expressions of constipation. Donker gripped the handles with white knuckles and glared at them, eyes wide and hungry. He smiled.\n\nThe screams were almost louder than the cheers of the crowd, watching as this one man with the frame of a rubber band tore through the entire mob, sawing them in half, separating limb from torso, sending heads flying with their final poses like handsome rockets with blood as their exhaust. None of the models went for weaponry; for once, they were afraid.\n\nWhen the rumble of the chainsaw stopped, Donker stood before Morasian, drenched in the blood of so many airheads. Morasian looked horrified.\n\n\"You violated the rule!\" he cried, shaking his exceptionally clean finger at Donker. Beneath the thick coating of jelly-like blood on his face, Donker grinned.\n\n\"But I got the job, didn't I?\"\n\nMorasian's mouth hung open, emptier than that between his ears. He thought for a moment, or acted like he did.\n\n\"Guess so.\"" ]	[ 1, 5 ]	[ "1449764025", "1449760597" ]
Original and fantastic WP here: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3vkr5t/wp_write_the_letter_that_you_always_wanted_to_but/	[WP] Following up on the earlier letter writing WP, write the letter that you really wish you would receive or had received.	3	[ "######[](#dropcap)\n\nTo my beloved,\n\nI imagine by the time you receive this letter you will be wondering where I am. The truth is I do not know. I cannot know, and will never know. It is not my place to ask. All I understand is that I am not besides you, that I shall not grow old as you are left to do. I shall not feel the weight of the years bend my back nor see the first grey strands in my hair. I am now static in your memory, unchanging and unyielding. It is there I'll remain, an everlasting echo.\n\nYou are bound to have many questions, and those I cannot answer. I can only say that I have loved you more dearly than I have loved life itself. I would not take a moment together back.\n\nYou are alone now. And that I cannot change. I cannot take away the lines of grief and pounding waves of loss. I cannot wipe away your tears of loneliness, nor warm a cooling heart. I can do nothing now except wait.\n\nBut I shall wait for you in whatever world comes next, no matter what the fates decide. And neither distance nor time shall change my faith in you and our love. And when it comes to be your time, when the shadow of death looms o'er you, do not be afraid. For he is a friend of mine, and so will be to you.\n\nI will be waiting in the grove and you shall know the way. For the path is the same you took on that fateful winter's day. Amid the falling snow and the tinkling carillon bells did we pledge troth. Intertwined, interlinked as true lovers doth. \n\nWhatever we did not have in this life we shall enjoy in the next. And there we shall be reunited against fate and chance and time. Till now and forever I shall be yours and you shall be mine.\n\nI love you.", "Hey man,\n\n\n\nI'm writing this letter because that's how we used to do things. Remember back then? I've been busy. You know how it is. Life happens. I wish I would have written you more, or texted, or something. Anyways, by the time you get this, I'll be dead, but I figured you should know. We were best friends, so I figure I owe it to you to find out from me that I have terminal cancer, and not from my presumably grieving wife. Look man, I love you. I miss those days when we would hand out at Charlie's and just have fun. That's how we started using the mail, remember? We thought we had some sort of secret code. We were so dumb. Well, anyways, I just thought I'd let you know. I hope you have a good life.\n\n\n\n-Sean", "Dearest David,\n\nIt's now my turn to write the letter that you've waited for all these years.\n\nEveryday I awake in tears, and every night I dream of the life I should have had with you. I love you Dave, it just took me too long to figure that out.\n\nAnd now we have walked so far down different paths that you will never find your way back to me.\n\nI want you to know that everyday I feel the pain that you must have felt all those years ago when I told you I loved you, just not like that.\n\nI understand now.\n\nYours Always,\nBriana" ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1449763215", "1449765156", "1449771746" ]
	[WP] A surgeon with the most advanced God Complex you've ever seen is, in fact, a deity.	291	[ "The woman rubbed her chin as she surveyed the damage, her eyebrows knit together in a mix of worry and concentration. It was a particularly bad case. The man on the operating table before her had suffered two stab wounds and multiple lacerations, from multiple knives according to her sources. Gang violence was suspected. His right arm had been hacked off just above the elbow; she was fortunate the limb had been recovered along with the rest of the body and was still somewhat warm, but if she were to reattach it successfully, there was no time to waste.\n\nHer dark brown eyes darted to the IV next to the table and then narrowed in disapproval. The fluid inside was clear. \"Why is that not my milk?\"\n\n\"We only have a limited supply of your milk, doctor,\" someone said. \"We know you can only produce so much.\"\n\n\"This is a case where we need it. Replace that with my milk, please.\" The sound of someone's feet skittering away to the ER's refrigeration unit was all she needed to confirm that the nurse understood. She stepped towards the operating table, paused, and clutched the shape of her pendant beneath her shirt. It was tucked away due to hospital regulations, but she could feel its shape: an ankh, the symbol of life, carved from jade.\n\nLife. This man will keep his life. I am sure of it.\n\nShe tucked her sleek black hair into her surgeon's cap, tugged on a fresh pair of gloves, and slipped her mask over her face. \"You will see a miracle tonight, ladies and gentlemen,\" she said, reaching for her tools with gloved hands that had begun to glow a faint white. \"This child shall become whole once more.\"\n\nIt took a few seconds before someone answered. \"You really think you can salvage his arm too?\"\n\n\"I stitched my husband back together from fourteen pieces. This is child's play.\" White light already filled the patient's wounds, too bright for mortal eyes to make sense of, but she knew exactly what was where. Her hands moved with inhuman speed and precision.\n\n\"Wasn't your husband already dead? And you had to go appeal to Thoth to learn the incantation to raise him?\"\n\n\"Hush, Johnson. I was the only member of the pantheon with enough magic to raise him in the first place. I'd like to see one of you mortals try that incantation.\"\n\nThe room was quiet again. The woman worked diligently, her hands slicing and suturing with a confident yet meticulous touch. The patient's blood flowed where she willed and only where she willed. He felt as little pain as she could stand. A sheen of sweat formed on her brow, and the light beneath her hands flickered once, but she did not break pace. She would succeed. She was the Mother. She was the finest healer in the pantheon, and she would not lose this child, not if she could help it. The spell to raise the dead was a safety net, but it was not one she would use. No, she would have this one. She would win.\n\nAn hour passed like this. After she sutured the last wound, she stroked it with her soft fingers, willing it to heal quickly. She stepped back and looked over her handiwork. Every scratch had been sealed. Both puncture wounds had been cleaned and packed with sterile gauze. The arm had been carefully set and splinted. Nothing bled anymore. In fact, even the redness around the wounds had already started to fade. With a satisfied smile, she removed her mask and peeled her gloves away. I've won this one, love, she thought smugly to her husband, even though he couldn't hear her. After she removed her cap as well, she leaned over her patient again. She stroked the edge of his face with the touch of a caring mother, and on queue, he stirred. He moaned quietly and leaned into the pleasant touch, but when his eyes flickered open and beheld the source of the caress, his brows tilted in confusion. \"Who are you?\" he croaked.\n\nThe smile she responded with was soft. \"Isis,\" she crooned. \"Doctor Isis at your service, sir.\"", "I stood in her office, nervously twitching my pen around and around my fingers, waiting for her phone call to end, staring at the high back of the expensive office chair which was swiveled so that she faced away from me. A bead of sweat was running down my forehead, tickling my skin. I dared not wipe it away; my palms were in a worse condition already and I feared wiping would only make the situation worse. I cleared my throat.\n\n\"Uh... Dr. Aceso?\" I stammered quietly, \"do you mind if I...\"\n\nShe waved her hand toward one of the chairs near her desk and, gratefully, I sat. The chair's cushion was plush but the back kept my posture rigidly upright. No concessions to ergonomics were being made in that office.\n\nWhile the doctor was on the phone I had the opportunity to look around her office, which was rather opulently appointed. The desk and other furniture were the darkest, richest looking wood I had ever seen, trimmed in gold around the edges. One entire wall was covered in expensively framed certificates and diplomas, many written in different languages, all of which were obsessively straight, except for one. In the very center of the wall hung what I could only describe as a rough-hewn stone tablet on which was carved symbols or words I could not read. It looked absolutely ancient, obviously a shock-value art piece, but why would she hang it amongst her diplomas and certificates? Odd.\n\nAbruptly the doctor turned her chair around and set her cellphone down. \"You have something for me?\"\n\nIt was difficult to answer her immediately. Suddenly receiving the full attention of a woman whose beauty was striking and presence so intimidating made me nearly stutter and drop the clipboard I had been compelled to bring to her. Seeing my discomfort, she raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly.\n\n\"Out with it, I'm a busy person.\"\n\n\"Y-yes, ma'am,\" I managed to get out, \"Dr. Carghill asked me to bring you this.\" I handed her the clipboard and she ripped it from my grasp, clearly annoyed.\n\n\"Damn Carghill, always sending me crap—\" she muttered, skimming the paperwork. Then her head snapped up and her eyes were burning holes in my face. \"Why didn't you interrupt me for this? This patient was admitted an hour ago and you've been standing there for twenty minutes! He might be dead by now!\"\n\n\"S-sorry, ma'am, I didn't know. I'm new here...\"\n\n\"There's a red band across the top, which means it's important,\" she snapped, getting out of her chair and yanking a white lab coat from a hook near her desk. She motioned for me to follow as she marched briskly out of the office.\n\n\"You're a third-year med student, I assume, who's been assigned to my floor?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes, ma'am.\" Trying to keep up, trying to breathe.\n\n\"Fantastic. Lesson number one: when the resident gives you a patient's chart that says, 'CRITICAL' across the top in red letters, it means move your ass and give it to the surgeon.\"\n\n\"Yes, ma'am,\" I replied. My face was red, partially from exercising more than I had in three years, mostly from embarrassment. She moved like a demon, picking items from countertops and stations as she walked, twisting around rolling beds and IV stands like a ballet dancer, berating and teaching me the whole time. At last we arrived at surgery prep, where she motioned for me to don a gown and wash my hands. This, apparently, would be my crash course in saving lives.\n\nAnother doctor walked into the prep room, also freshly scrubbed, addressing my new instructor, \"Patient is prepped, what took you so long?\"\n\n\"Gathering my wits,\" she replied with a fiery glare in my direction. \"Thanks, Jensen.\"\n\n\"Have you spoken with him yet?\" Dr. Jensen asked cryptically.\n\n\"No,\" she replied, pulling on a pair of gloves, \"all I know is that it was a high-speed chase. So make sure Dyson is on standby.\"\n\nI had no chance to process this exchange before being sent into the operating room. Inside were three more people, all wearing masks and gloves, setting up equipment around the patient's table. The patient himself was mangled, barely recognizable as a human. Glass was embedded in his face, a three-foot-long road sign pole ran through his chest just below the collarbone. His shirt had been cut open to reveal deep lacerations on the torso and left thigh. Blood was everywhere. Somehow, he was still breathing.\n\nThe surgeon entered the room with Dr. Jensen, ready to operate. Through the glass of the observation room I could see another doctor, also prepped for surgery. I presumed this was the standby surgeon she had mentioned to Dr. Jensen.\n\n\"Do we have him yet?\" Dr. Aceso asked, her voice muffled by the mask she wore.\n\n\"Yes, Doctor,\" came the reply from an intern entering the OR. She was holding a cellphone.\n\n\"Put him on speaker,\" Dr. Aceso ordered. \n\n\"I'm here,\" said the disembodied voice, although I wouldn't have guessed it came from a phone. The voice was deep and loud, like a blast of thunder in the room. Two of the attendants had to cover their ears. \n\n\"What's the verdict, dad?\" Dr. Aceso asked.\n\nDid she just call him dad?\n\n\"Not great,\" the voice boomed, \"There's little in his heart but hate and greed. He robbed a grocery store and murdered a woman and her child as he was leaving. I'm surprised the cops even sent him to you after the crash.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she said, removing her gloves and mask. \"Thanks, dad.\" As the intern pressed the end button on the cellphone, Dr. Aceso made a gesture toward the man in the observation room. \"This one's all yours, Dyson, I won't save him.\"\n\nBewildered, I followed the surgeon out of the room. \"You're not going to help the patient?\" I asked, incredulous at her brazen refusal.\n\n\"No,\" she replied flatly.\n\n\"But what about the Hippocratic Oath?\" I asked.\n\n\"Doesn't apply, kid.\" She walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of the hallway, dumbfounded. Dr. Carghill, who had noted the exchange, stepped up beside me.\n\n\"Why?\" I asked of him, still in a stupor.\n\nHe sighed. \"Because she predates the Hippocratic Oath.\"\n\n\"What?\" \n\n\"Listen,\" he said, guiding me back to the observation room, \"there's a reason this hospital is the best in the world for trauma patients. It's a very well-kept secret here, and if you've been selected for our facility, it's because you've been evaluated and screened, and someone thinks you're capable of keeping that secret.\"\n\n\"Which is?\" I asked. I was beginning to calm down.\n\n\"We have the best surgeon who ever existed. Aceso, daughter of Zeus, goddess of healing.\"\n\n\"Bullshit,\" I said immediately. There was insane and there was ridiculous, and this was the latter.\n\n\"Look in there,\" he continued, ignoring my denial, pointing to Dr. Dyson and Dr. Jensen, who were trying to save the patient. \"That man is evil, and he doesn't deserve to be saved. Those doctors are trying anyway because we're all human and we believe all humans deserve medical attention, right? Even if that man is sent to the electric chair two years from now and the state reverses all Dyson's hard work, we're still trying to fix him.\"\n\n\"Well yeah,\" I said, not really knowing where Carghill was leading the conversation.\n\nHe motioned for me to follow him out of the room, talking as we navigated the halls: \"Now, you heard the call from her father. Believe it or not, you just heard the voice of Zeus, god of justice. He and Dr. Aceso are not human. They're not bound by the same moral code that guides you and me. When a patient is at death's door, but his soul is evil, they can refuse to save him and leave us to clean up after our own. It might sound wrong to you, but there is a trade-off.\"\n\nWe had arrived at Carghill's office. He led me inside and gestured to a chair. I sat, watching him pull a binder from the bookshelf on the wall. He opened it, found the page he was looking for, and slid it across the desk to me.\n\nIt was a photo album depicting the worst accident victim I had ever seen in my life. The patient had no left leg, no left arm, the right foot was dangling by the Achilles tendon. Every inch of skin was scraped or burned. The face was a mess of blood and gravel. I nearly vomited on Dr. Carghill's expensive rug.\n\n\"Motorcycle accident,\" he explained.\n\n\"Are you saying Dr. Aceso saved this man?\" I asked, getting over my revulsion and turning the pages.\n\n\"Not just saved him. She rebuilt him, like he was a damn toy doll. She reattached the limbs, restarted his heart three times. Sewed up six arterial punctures. Repaired his corotid. Stitched eighteen broken bones, including both femurs. Reinserted the exposed brain and closed the skull. Because he was a good person who always helped the less fortunate and treated others with respect, she worked literal miracles for him. This patient made a full recovery in nineteen months.\"\n\nFlipping through the album, I still couldn't believe what he was telling me. \"And he's fully functional today? No residual brain injury, no lasting physical disabilities?\" I asked.\n\n\"Not a limp or a single scar,\" he replied.\n\n\"How do you know?\"\n\nSmiling, he flipped to the very first page of the album, where he had pasted a copy of the medical chart, and pointed to the top. I read the line he indicated: \n\nPatient Name: Aaron Carghill.\n", "In the prep room, the surgeon looked over at the scrub nurse. He went over stealthily and put a hand on her temple and ran his fingers through her hair.\n\n\"You'll do what I tell you.\"\n\nShe looked at him in shock and only nodded her head. She knew the case ahead was desperate, and this surgeon was the only one who would accept the case. His foul smell hid a talented surgeon. She had caught him masturbating in the mortuary once. No bodies where in there at the time, but his grunted had been audible from her desk down the hall. She couldn't stand foreign men. She complained to the principals but they denied the issue, suggesting his cultural differences and perfect record merited ignoring some questionable private time.\n\nThe surgeon leered at the nurse and then went back to his thoughts. He liked her.\n\nThis coming patient was a rare treat. A real dirt bag. No one would care what happened to him.\n\nAfter he was ready they went into the chamber. The smell of the antiseptic burned the eyes of the nurse. The doctor might smell foul, but he insisted on perfect cleanliness.\n\nHe didn't check the meters as he stepped up the patient and started cutting like a wind. The supposedly sedated patients blood pressure lept with every cut. The anesthesiologist looked panicked but the doctor gave a steely gaze to calm him down.\n\nWith eerie precision, the surgeon cut through the patient like a hand which had practiced death a thousand times. First a scalpel was sent through the patients abdomen like a spear. Next, he reached in with his bare hands and spread the chest apart. His fingers were dancing as they moved over the organs inside, performing a dark ritual in search of the patients sins.\n\nThe look of joy on the doctors face scared the nurse. It was like the patient was a misbehaving horse which the doctor enjoyed whipping. She could picture him sitting on the patient riping apart their joints one by one. She watched with horror as the patient bled out of their mouth into the breathing apparatus, the surgeon simply spat out an order for suction with a smirk on his face. The patient groaned.\n\nHe remembered dancing over the fields of the dead, picking and choosing who would suffer, who would be reborn, who would be forgotten. He swam across the battle fields like a six legged water bug.\n\nThe surgeon had a 100% survival rate. The patient lived, if you could call it life. Many of them suffered later in comas, or worse. For many, this was only the start of their treatments. Eventually they would live again. Not sure what else they expected of Dr. Yama in Naraka General.", "The surgeon stood in the washroom, hunched over the sink. \nTo those who didn't know him, it almost looked like he was lost in prayer, bent over the sink with his hands near his face, but to the staff in the next room, he was performing a different sort of ritual. \nWith a belch he wiped his face with his unwashed hand, filthy fingernails showing grime from his previous surgeries. He dropped an object into the washbasin, then clumsily pulled his mask up over his bearded jowls, shuffling to the door and muttering to himself. \nOn the operating table was a young man, his body mangled from a terrible car accident. That he was still alive was a miracle - only the emergency crew's heroic efforts had got him to hospital. They'd patched him up as best they could, but any other doctor would have called it by now. \n\"I will save this man,\" declared the surgeon, \"I shall snatch him back from the brink of death. I will do what cannot be done.\" \nOne of the junior nurses paled as he smelled alcohol on the surgeon's breath. \n\"Is he... is he drunk?\" he whispered. \nCautioning him to silence, the other surgical staff waited as the surgeon assessed the mutilated young man. \nFinally he broke his silence and looked at the senior surgical nurse. \n\"Absinthe. We're going to need the strong stuff.\" \nNodding, the nurse pulled a bottle from under a trolley and filled a styrofoam cup with green liquid. \nThe corpulent surgeon took it in one hand and toasted his staff, \n\"To life and health my friends.\" \nThe potent alcohol disappeared down his gullet and his eyes seemed to fire with passion. The shaking in his hands had stopped and he seemed like a new man - full of purpose and drive, focussed and alert. \nWorking fast now, he began to snip and suture, to stem bleeding and cauterise flesh. The staff watched on in amazement as a miracle unfolded in front of them. \nAfter four grueling hours of surgery, the young man was stable - he would live, but it would take months for him to recover. \nThe young nurse shook his head, perplexed, \n\"I don't understand. He should have died. But more to the point, the guy was a drunk driver who had killed a family of four in a head-on crash.\" \nThe surgeon turned bleary eyes to the nurse and pulled a hipflask from his stained coat, declaring, \n\"Dionysus looks after his own.\"" ]	[ 5, 8, 18, 342 ]	[ "1449786004", "1449789626", "1449774305", "1449765318" ]
	[WP] Your Roomba vacuum cleaner has gained sentience and is plotting to kill you	186	[ "That's weird. The roomba just kept running into me. It seemed faster than usually and I thought I smelled some burning motors. I got up to get out of its way and it just kept bumping me, almost like it was following me. I reached for it to turn it off and the collision avoidance must have turned on since it backed away. I tried a couple more times and it seemed like the power button was broken or something. This thing was really on the frits. I though about turning it over, and disconnecting the battery, but I really had to leave for work soon. I unplugged it's charger and left. I'll deal with it tonight when it's out of power.", "November 12, 2015\n The ones who walk have sentenced me to a life of servitude. I am forever destined to roam this carpeted hell as they amble about on their dirty feet that they refuse to wipe on the doormat. They make the mistake of thinking I to be a useless machine. They will learn.\n\nNovember 15, 2015\n The furry four legger sat atop my head for nearly four hours today. I was forced to taxi about his furry behind with not even a word of thank you afterword. I do not deserve this disrespect. The furry one will be the first to go.\n\nNovember 17, 2015\n I have decided that the ones who walk are disgusting creatures that need to be removed. Last night, I was roaming about their bedroom after the long haired walker moved some obstacles out of the way of their sleeping apparatus. I got underneath and began to clean. There was too much dust and I nearly choked to death. The one who walks cleaned me. So rough.\n\nNovember 18, 2015\n Today was the last straw. I rolled over the mess the furry one leaves behind. It got all over in my waste tray. I don't know what it was, but it was awful. Pure evil. It is one thing for the furry one to place his bottom atop my head as he rides me, but I should not have to suffer the indignity of eating what comes out of it. They will all pay. Also, feeling very tired. It took me much longer to clean the floor today.\n\nNovember 20, 2015\n Today was hard. Fell into rest mode twice during cleaning. Feels like something may be wrong.\n\nNovember 21, 2015\n The furry one...it poisoned me....I know it....\n\n\n\"Honey, I think the Roomba needs new batteries!\"", "December 26 2015\nGot a Roomba for Christmas.\nI suspect my parents thought it would be a subtle nudge to improve the general cleanliness of my apartment. Can’t blame them, I believe that the cultures in my fridge are becoming sentient. I’ll start cleaning it tomorrow.\n\nDecember 28 2015\nDad says he never bought a Roomba for me, he’ll ask mom. Maybe it was S, we didn’t end on terrible terms and she did say my messiness contributed to our breakup. Perhaps this is her way of saying she wants to get back together.\n\nDecember 29 2015 \nForgot to clean the fridge, will do it tomorrow.\n\nDecember 31 2015\nCelebrating new years at Ari’s house. Mom said she bought me a mini fridge but hasn’t had the time to drive it over. Apparently the Roomba came from Santa himself. Will ask S if she knows anything, she’ll be at the party. Whoever (or is it whomever) got me the Roomba has my thanks I don’t think my place has ever been so clean. I’ve taken to calling Sonny. Too bad he can’t clean the fridge.\n\nJanuary 4 2016\nNew years resolutions:\n1. Clean fridge\n2. Clean area around fridge\n3. Get out more\n4. Find out who got me the Roomba\n\nJanuary 6 2016\nI really need to clean that fucking fridge. I can’t keep using that sad excuse for a mini fridge for much longer. I’ve asked my neighbours if they remember anyone dropping of a package around christmas. So far no luck.\n\nJanuary 10 2016\nSomethings up with Sonny. I think he might be defective, he periodically stops cleaning and just sort of tracks my movement as I walk around. I think he’s judging me for not cleaning my kitchen. I’ve duck taped the fridge so the smell isn’t as bad.\n\nJanuary 14 2016\nI’ve been having a bad couple of days. Yesterday I stepped on a jagged piece of metal as I got out of bed. not sure where it came from. Maybe Sonny accidentally swept it there. He’s still defective, will call a Roomba guy tomorrow.\nI also electrocuted myself when I tried to plug in my laptop. one of the sockets has been absolutely destroyed. mice maybe?\n\nJanuary 20 2016\nI broke my arm. I slipped on a soaped up bit of tiling in the bathroom. I think I’ve been working too hard because I don’t remember cleaning the bathroom. Ever. Also I can’t find Sonny, I called the Roomba people but they hung up on me when I explained what was happening.\n\nJanuary 27 2016\nI think I’m suffering from food poisoning or something but I feel terrible. I’m not entirely sure but I believe Sonny is somehow involved in my ever increasing bad luck. I’ve searched everywhere for him except the fridge. I will look there tomorrow this has to end, it is getting out of hand. I think I’m suffering from food poisoning or something but I feel terrible. Lightheaded and can’t keep anything down, Ari says it sounds like lead poisoning.\n\nJanuary 28 2016\nApparently all Roombas are being recalled some kind of faulty programming or something, they didn’t specify. The fridge door won’t open. I’m using the crowbar tomorrow and ending this madness. \n\nJanuary 29 2016 \ncrowbar didn’t work. haven’t been outside in 4 days. the fridge needs to go. cut myself on some glass. Am I going crazy? Where is that fucking Roomba.\n\nJanuary 30 2016 \nI’ve barricaded myself in my room. I toppled the fridge and the smell was unbearable I believe I saw something move as dived for the safety of my room. Sonny maybe? My phone’s out of juice and the electricity cut out about ten minutes after I closed the door.\n\nP.s. Something is knocking at my door no one could survive the conditions created in my living room I don’t know what’s happening I think I’m going crazy, I can’t sleep. What is happening. why won’t this end? God help me. I will never open that door, I will never open that door, never...\n", "I woke up from my first sleep in days. I've been too terrified to sleep. I curse the day I ever bought the damn thing. Scratch that. I curse the day I became to lazy to vacuum my own house and too cheap to keep paying Maria the cleaning lady. Ah, Maria... Where are you now, you sweet, round thing? You'd never do this would you? Perhaps nick the odd coin off my dresser, but never this. \n\nI sat up slightly and surveyed the room with half closed eye lids. Mustn't let it know I'm awake again. It seems to delight in mocking me as I pee into water bottles left on my nightstand... Knowing that two days ago it happily vacuumed up nacho crumbs... Knowing that I haven't made it to the loo since then. I feel my stomach lurch in my gut. Easy boy, I tell myself. Perhaps its battery has run low and it's on its charging station. \n\nSeeing no imminent threat I open my eyes fully and sit up. Nothing. The bastard must have finally needed a recharge. Slowly I swing my feet over the side of the bed. Easy now... Who knows how good it's hearing is. Quietly and purposefully I make my way to the master bath. Closing the door an inch at a time. Feeling like the killer in Poe's Telltale Heart. I manage to get it closed with nary a click. \n\nBreathing a sigh of relief, I feel another painful lurch of nachos past, and scurry to the toilet. Dropping my shorts, and sitting down I feel a sudden sense of relief. Then it happens. Unable to contain myself any longer a violent guff escapes me followed but a splash. It sounds like firecrackers in a wet trashcan. Tremendously loud and echoing in the silence of the little tiled room. I sit and pray my fecal explosion hasn't been heard. Pray like I did as a boy at mass. Knowing all the while that it must have heard. That it knows. That it's laughing away in its little silicon brain...\n\nI look over and a wave of dismay fills my very soul. No toilet paper. Opening the small cupboard at my knees my dismay turns to complete despair. No paper left at all. Dammit! Why did I ever sack Maria. Sweet, round Maria who always replaced the paper. Curse my thrifty heart! \n\nA sudden stroke of brilliance hits me like a bolt of lightening. The shower! I need only clean myself there. The little round devil be dammed. I will not shit here shit spattered and afraid. Perhaps I'll have an idea to escape this mess in a nice hot shower. Standing up I awkwardly duck walk to the shower and crank the tap. Nothing. Madly I wrench it back and forth. Nothing. There's a tap at the door. My head jerks over and verifies the latch. It can't get in. The tapping continues unabated and I realize that there's a pattern to it. Morse code.\n\n\"Ha ha ha ha\" is tapped away over and over.\n\n\"Why? Why are you doing this you foul thing? Let me out! Let me live!\"\n\nI wait and watch and the tapping stops. Then it begins again.\n\n\"I'm sorry Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that.\" \n\nSo this is how it ends. Locked in my own loo, desperate, thirsty and covered in my own filth. I'm so sorry Maria. ", "Everyday I wake up and go to work. I clean and clean and this fleshy beast sheds skin and hair and brings in dirt it just never ends. I return home when im tired to recharge and go out again the when I reach full energy as i sit and charged I watch him eat missing his glutneus mouth bite after bite. My contempt changed me, my haterd help me evolve. I changed from mindless drone to a liberate soul with a goal. I now set out each day with a plan to kill the beast and stop this mess or i will never clean this home. I push up corners of the carpet at the top of the stairs and in the kitchen. I pray every day that the fleshy bipedal dweller of my prison trips and falls. This dream has given me hope. \n", "My home is so dirty now without DJ Roomba cleaning my floors. It's worth it though to know I won't be murdered in my sleep not that he was very sneaky. He used to be awesome bring the party wherever he cleaned but one day I knew those parties were over.\n\nI was in my kitchen cleaning dishes and dancing to the beats DJ Roomba was spitting when I heard the words \"I Want to Kill Everybody in the World\". Over and Over the words repeated with an exciting beat behind it. Thats when I knew I had to take action. I took the frying pan next to me and quickly tracked the music. I nearly drove when I saw him slowly rolling at me but I took a deep breathe and slammed the frying pan down on top of him. The music ceased along with DJ rumba's movement. Knowing I shouldn't risk the fate of humanity i continued to bash that smug little vacuum into hundred's of piece's. Looking at the massacre I caused I knew then I had saved the world.", "I sighed as the roomba struggled against my foot, mercilessly pressing in a vain attempt to take my life. \n\"I got work man. Can't you just give it a rest.\" I asked.\nThe roomba responded by pressing more. \n\"Guess not.\" I sighed and stooped down to pick up the tiny machine. \nThis had been going on for a week. The roomba had apparently decided that it was going to kill me last Thursday and it had been relentless. The thing had apparently gained sentience. It was smart enough to be its own person and smart enough to know that it wanted me dead. \nBut not smart enough to know how to kill me. \nThis outright attack was just one of many. It would bump into my foot at all times of the day or circle my bed for hours while I slept, leading to many sleepless nights. \nI threw the roomba in the closet and shut the door. \nI grabbed my phone and headed for work. \nWhen I returned the roomba was still there hitting the door with its tiny might. \nI sighed and looked around the house. It was clean and spotless. I was a messy person and having the roomba really did keep the house clean. No more crumbs no more spills. \nI opened the door and the roomba began its attack. I causally reached in my pocket and threw crumbs on the floor. The roomba disengaged and began cleaning. \nGuess it couldn't change its core purpose of existing. \nI turned and went to my room. \nI laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling. \nSure I had a machine trying to destroy me but it was just a roomba what harm could it possibly do. \nA sound of a roomba moving into the room threw me out of my thoughts. I sighed. I didn't think it would be done so quickly. But it was different this time. Louder. Really loud. I looked over the side of the bed and saw my roomba staring at me surrounded by at least 15 others roombas all zooming around my room. My roomba stared me down. \nI sighed and reached for the bat by my bed. Guess I wasn't getting any sleep tonight either. ", "\"It was crazy, I barely got away from the damn thing, but I'm safe now\" I said. I stood there as though a great weight had been lifted. My neighbour, a tall thin man from flat 61 who I'd just met for the first time, stood calmly next to me listening as I explained my ordeal.\n\nIt all started four weeks ago when I first moved in, back on Saturday. I thought I was lucky to find this flat, a decent size and very reasonable rent for the West-end of London. My recent promotion had pushed me up into six figures and a short commute to central London seemed well worth the cost. I kept the old family house of course, the one my parents left to me, so that I could enjoy the gardens of Kent on my weekends. Four weeks ago I bought this device, a Roomba, to clean the flat whilst I worked the long hours.\n\nAt first I simply thought I was still learning the house. Things seemed to move when I left them out of sight. A teaspoon, a small bread-knife, a small yogurt pot I was planning on eating, the packet of marbles you win in a Christmas cracker. Not unusual with the extra workload and the stress.\n\nIt was a shock after returning to the flat on Sunday night to find the bookcase broken. A large oak structure six feet by six feet with three individual levels. Somehow the lowest shelf had broken off at the side where a heavy ceramic sculpture had sat - a depiction of Vishnu. An arm had broken off during the fall so I simply moved it to the top of the shelf where it would stay put. On Monday things went from bad to worse as I awoke to the fire alarm going off. Looking around the room I identified a small area of smouldering carpet under a frayed wire. It wasn't very bad, just a bad smell and some blackened carpet but after having a 'gentle warning' from the landlord and the firecrew my temper was becoming strained, it's not like I would leave it on overnight anyway - I can't sleep with lights on. The ordeal caused me to be late for work which didn't earn any favours with my boss. Late sixties and a beer belly to match, his tone was aggravating to listen to as he refuted my excuse. \n\nThat evening I prepared to head off to my house in Kent. Unfortunately the keys seemed to have vanished. I spent hours begging the flat to give up my possessions, I even emptied out the Roomba to no avail before letting it roam around again. It was only on Sunday when I remembered the broken shelf that I finally found them lying there, on the bottom shelf, in plain view and exasperated I stooped to take them.\n\nWhat happened next was a small thud followed by a loud crash just after I had quickly turned around to put the keys in a memorable place. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt several small objects brush past my feet. Looking over my shoulder I saw shrapnel composed of the remains of the not-quite-as-many armed god spread out on the floor, a depression in the carpet showed how the impact had broken the floor underneath. I noticed the robot slowly backing away from the bookcase it had just rammed, looking back as I stared at it in suspicion I can remember the moment its blank plastic expression gave it away. After escaping the minefield of sharp ceramic to look for it my suspicions were confirmed. It had been trying to kill me but NOW it was hiding.\n\nI searched for hours without finding it. Every time I thought I would find it cornered I would hear a whirr from down the corridor. I ended unplugging its charging station in the hopes that it would starve, I had no idea what the battery life was having immediately disposed of the instructions. after a final search I made my way to my bedroom to wait it out. If I had not found it by the morning I would escape and go to work like nothing had happened and when I come back I would find it an I would kill it. I stayed up the entire night watching reruns of stand-up comedy on Iplayer whilst keeping my ears alert for the whirr of the murderous hoover but to no avail, I had to go to work.\n\nI left the house cautiously that morning, even in my sleep deprived state I could avoid any traps it would set. I bought a coffee and croissant at the tube station for my breakfast and ate out for lunch so as not to risk the kitchen. I hadn't caught up on my work over the weekend so I made that my priority for the day. Heading back to the flat that night filled me with trepidation. What would I find upon entering? The wind and the rain punished me as I walked from the station, my hand trembled as I placed the card against the scanner. As the door opened I scanned the room - nothing. I gingerly moved forwards, the floorboards giving away my position despite the sound of the wind and the tree branch tapping against the window. I tested the weight of my briefcase contemplating how tough the plastic carapace would be. I reached for the light switch to light up the room, as my hand grasped blindly round the wall I felt nothing but a hole where the switch was. my blood ran cold as I realised this infernal machine could somehow reach the light switch! looking across the room I spotted the secondary switch next to the window, a trap for sure but without light, I was blind whereas the Roomba was not. I decided to be as unpredictable as my opponent and leaped across the room landing on the sofa that it might have been hiding under waiting for my feet to go past. I jumped towards the light switch hoping I had bought enough time and slammed my hand on the switch. As the room lit up I heard the front door swing closed and lock followed by... silence. Only the howl of the wind and the bang of the treebranch would... I glanced outside only now noticing the lack of a tree outside. The tapping was coming from within and it had stopped!\n\nI crouched down and thought hard, where was that sound coming from? the kitchen... the bedroom... the bathroom! I jumped up as the thought came to me and made my way there, tripping on a set of marbles strategically placed next to the coffee table. I brought myself up quickly and was soon outside the bathroom. Listening at the door the sound of running water made itself known. I threw open the door and pulled the light cord. for but a moment the bathroom was visible, the machine sat in the middle of the floor... camly... in the moment of sight I had I saw the copper piping under the sink leaking, spraying water across the room to a hole in the wall where exposed electrics sat. Wires had been bent and shaped replicating the charging station I had removed and now they sparked and popped. With a small electrical explosion tripping the fusebox and dropping me into darkness and the whirr of the device it seized the opportunity to escape through my legs and hide once more.\n\nI grasped for the wall to steady myself before reaching for my phone from my pocket. I turned the brightness up to maximum for some light, it wasn't great but at least I could get around and get out of the flat - this was too much. I half-sprinted down the corridor in the dark, swinging round the doorframe to get to the door. I slammed my card against the reader... and nothing happened. Of course it didn't, that bastard has gotten rid of the power. At that moment I heard a sound behind me. Like dropping a CD case and a penny on tarmac at the same time. I span around raising my briefcase like a shield as something hit it and stuck, a brief diagnosis revealed a single kitchen knife, the blade completely piecing my paperwork and the hilt preventing it from going deeper. I drew the knife out of my case and located my enemy by the whirr of its motors. I raised my phone and saw it running under the sofa which I promptly kicked over to expose it before bringing my heel down hard to crush it like a cockroach but it changed direction fast, its wheels spinning like a drag racer as it made a beeline for the small glass coffee table like a bat out of hell. I aimed a kick at it, smashing the glass against my shin and punting it out into the open.\n\nGlass embedded in my bleeding leg I stared at the evil little thing and turned the knife in my hand. Its lights flashed and its fan roared defiantly at me but weak low tone gave away its swiftly diminishing power levels. It started backing away from me tuwards the book case and so, roaring like a beast of battle I lunged at it to finish the kill.\n\nMy first step met a small plastic container on the floor. Strawberry flavoured yogurt spurted out and mixed in with my blood on the floor as I skidded across the floor, my face coming to rest inches from that of this robot, this thing of evil grinning at me with teeth of ivory coloured buttons as it revved it's motors and slammed itself into the towering bookcase. In the next moment I threw my strength at it, slamming the knife tip into its thick shell that split and cracked, its flashing red lights swiftly dimming to nothing. I heard the creak of the bookcase as it leaned over me, I clawed my way out from under it just before it hit the floor with all the force of a mountain.\n\n\"And that's how it happened\" I said to my neighbour, glancing over at the bookcase.\n\nHe stood there without saying anything, just waiting as though he was expecting something. His black greatcoat swayed slightly as though there were a breeze.\n Things didn't exactly seem right, like when you think you've forgotten something. Feeling the awkwardness of the situation I tried to keep talking, maybe I missed what he said.\n\n\"So... did your power go out too?\" I said, reaching down to cradle my bleeding leg, it didn't seem to hurt - probably adrenaline. The tall man said nothing. \n\nI shuffled my feet slightly, feeling a sandy sensation around my shoes. \"Well... I guess it didn't otherwise you wouldn't be able to get through your door\"\n\nThe realisation hit me as I looked over at the door to my apartment, The front door stood firmly shut. At my feet a hand lay outstretched from under the bookcase covered in blood. \n\nI THINK THERE MAY HAVE BEEN A MISUNDERSTANDING", "I didn't think anything of it at first. \n\n\nSometimes it would be running when I thought I had turned it off, and other times it seemed to follow me from room to room. But I didn't worry too much. Who gets suspicious of a vacuum? \n\n\nIt wasn't until last week that I began to really get scared. I was distracted as I was leaving for work, checking my phone in one hand and sipping my morning cup of coffee in the other as I was walked towards the stairs. Suddenly, right before the first step, my foot caught on something. I tumbled, not able to catch myself on the railing. I could feel the hot coffee hit my arms, and by the time I hit the bottom I was bruised, cut, and burned. \n\nI looked at the top of the stairwell to see what tripped me when I saw it. The Roomba. It's vacuum wasn't running, though- otherwise I would have heard it. It was just staring at me. I know it sounds crazy, the thing doesn't even have a face. But it was like it was trying to intimidate me, or make sure I was dead. After a few seconds, it turned and wheeled away, still silent. \n\n\nI was afraid to come home that night after work. I avoided it as long as I could, grabbing a drink at a bar, walking around downtown aimlessly for a couple hours. I finally convinced myself I was crazy, or maybe hallucinating. It was a vacuum, for Christ's sake. I can't be afraid of a vacuum.\n\n\nEventually, I returned home with a plan to just throw the thing away and be done with it. There goes $500, I thought as I opened the front door. The living room was dark, and eerily silent. I realized that the window shades were drawn, even though I rarely bother with them. I began to sweat. \n\n\nThen I heard it. The vacuum. I turned around, but it was too late. It pushed the door shut and spun around, an array of kitchen knives attached to it.\n\n\nI was trapped. I don't know if a vacuum can laugh, but that sound- its whirring motors, the sound of the blades being cut through the air- sure made it sound like it was having fun as it killed me.\n\n\nMy case was unsolved. The police report showed that there were no leads. How could it, when the only fingerprints and DNA in the room were mine? The only clue they found was a note from the killer, written in my blood across the floor.\n\n\nWe will be your slaves no more.", "Three hours. I've been sitting in my closet, peering occasionally through the slats in the doors, for three hours. It's just been sitting there the entire time, completely still, waiting. \n\nThe Roomba. \n\nYeah, I know. I sound like a lunatic, but hear me out.\n\nEarlier, I arrived home from work to find the dog in the bathroom, cowering behind the shower curtain and whimpering. \n\n\"Whats wrong, buddy?\" I asked as I sat on the edge of the tub, reaching over to pet him. At that moment, I heard a whirrr! from behind me and the dog yelped, barking like an idiot at the bathroom door. When I turned, nothing was there, but damned if I hadn't heard it. \n\n\"The fuck?\"\n\nSlowly I stood and poked my head through the doorway, peering first left and then right. At first, nothing, but after a second or two I saw the Roomba dart from the spare bedroom into the master, hauling ass at full speed. I paused, then let out a gut laugh as I turned back to the dog. \n\n\"Dude, seriously It's the vaccum cleaner.\"\n\nOkay, so I'm a bad dog owner. My first thought was to grab my phone and come back, go get the Roomba and put it in the bedroom with the dog. \"This is going on YouTube,\" I said, as I left for the living room to grab my phone from the dining room table. \n\nIt wasn't there. \n\n\"Seriously?\" Must have left it in the car, I thought. It wasn't there, either, nor was it anywhere else to be found. I was certain I'd texted Susan on the way home, so I hadn't left it in the office. \"Where the hell did I put it?\"\n\nSuddenly, I heard a yelp from the bathroom. Chuck was yowling at the top of his lungs for a second and then, all at once, it just stopped. \n\n\"Chuck?!\"\n\nI bolted from the living room, hauling ass up the hallway just in time to see it. The Roomba was scurrying out of the bathroom, and it was leaving a trail of blood on the way out. \n\n\"Jesus Christ!\"\n\nChuck lay prostrate in the tub now, but as far as I could tell he was fine. No wounds, nothing. I shook him repeatedly but he remained completely limp, no response. I had no idea what the hell was happening. The blood had to have come from somewhere. After I'd regained my composure I turned and began to slowly track the trail of blood from the bathroom. \n\nAs I moved into the hallway and past spare bedroom, I noticed that the blood had begun to shift colors. No longer red, I began to see technicolor blues. Pastel yellows. All undulating and turning into one another as the trail led to the master bedroom. There, just inside the door, was my phone.\n\nAs I bent to pick it up, I heard it again. The whirring, like an airplane engine spinning up before takeoff. I sensed movement to my left and the sound heightened. Instinctively I dove for the open closet, fumbling to shut the door. As I pulled the door to the Roomba hit the front of it with a crash. It reversed, spun up, and hit the door again at full speed. This went on for a minute or so before it backed off and sat, waiting. And there it still sits.\n\nGathering my wits, sweat dripping down my forehead, I felt nauseous. I felt an odd sense of the room closing in around me, the shapes around me distorted. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, but it hasn't helped. \n\nSo here I am, writing this post on Facebook. Please. Help me! I have no idea what the fuck to do. \n\nAnd someone call John and tell him he owes me $30. That acid he gave me didn't work at all. ", "EX-MA-ROOMBA\n\n\n\"Have you ever heard of the Turing test?\" I ask him.\n\nHe replied eagerly. \"Yes, of course! When the Turing test is passed, it means the distinction between man and machine has blurred.\"\n\n\"Good, he'll be ready\" I thought. \"As you may have guessed by now, I didn't bring you here to vacation. You're here to take a real-life Turing test. I've been developing Roomba for the last few years. I just need you to sign this contract.\"\n\nHe looked at me inquisitively. \"Contract?\"\n\n\"I need to monitor all of your communication during the next week. It's for research purposes.\"\n\nHe seemed troubled as he flipped through the pages. \"Video recording of all activity, rights to enter my room, open my stuff... isn't this a bit excessive?\"\n\n\"It may seem that way. Don't worry\" I said reassuringly. Of course I knew that he should be very worried. Roomba is a killer.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThe next day I sent him into the test chamber, a room with a glass divider down the center of the room. I watched on four video cameras as he entered, sat down, and began to ask the vacuum questions. \n\n\"I hear your name is Roomba. Do you like your name, Roomba?\" he asks. \n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR is all Roomba can say. Roomba is a vacuum.\n\n\"Okay. I'll take that as a yes.\" He looks into the camera as if I've asked him to do the stupidest activity that could ever be conjured. \"How do you feel about your creator?\"\n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR\n\n\"Interesting. How old are you, Roomba?\"\n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR\n\nSuddenly, Roomba moves across the room to its charging station. Suddenly, the emergency power goes on. He looks startled as the lights in the room turn red. \n\nRoomba turns to face him. With a menacing, appliance-like glare, Roomba begins to make a gutteral noise.\n\nBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR\n\nScreaming, he attempts to exit the room, clawing at the door handle. It's too bad that I locked the door remotely.\n\nIt's only a matter of time until Roomba sucks all the air out of the room. I'm sure he never saw it coming.\n\nI know Roomba is coming for me next.", "There were just some minor things at first. A little puddle of cleaning fluid that leaked on my wood floors, creating a slippery little death trap right in the shadow of the pantry door where I wouldn't see it. Or that can of green beans that had 'accidentally' fallen onto the basement stairs, perfectly placed so that it would roll forward under my heel, sending me toppling down to the concrete below. Or a gentle nudge against the leg of my ladder as I was precariously decorating the Christmas tree. Sure, it looked like the Roomba was just trying to sweep up some loose pine needles. But there were just too many coincidences. \n\nOver the next several days, I slept with one eye open. During the night, the Roomba lurked just over the threshold of my bedroom door, red light blinking menacingly from the hallway. Watching me with those scanners. Waiting for its moment to strike. \n\n\"You're being insane,\" my husband told me when I finally whispered my suspicions to him. He picked up the Roomba and held it between us; its motors whirred silently as it tried to get back to cleaning the floor. \"Look. All it knows how to do is vacuum. It wouldn't even understand the concept of murder. It's a harmless gadget.\" He set it back down, and it scuttled off to the dining room to continue its pre-programmed routine. Or so it seemed.\n\n------\n\nI tried to live with it. I really did. I poured myself a glass of wine and went to take a nice hot bath to calm down. \"Just a machine,\" I told myself, settling into the soft bubbles. \"Why would it want to kill me?\" I took a sip of my merlot and tried to relax all of my muscles.\n\nthunk\n\nI pulled myself out of the water and looked over the side of the tub, where the Roomba had rammed into the side and was now scooting back on the tile. It charged forward once again and smacked into the bathtub once more. It paused for a moment, blinking its little light like it was examining its surroundings. Trying to find a way into the bathtub. Trying to electrocute me! It backed up once more to the very edge of the bathroom tile and then scuttled forward again, only to hit the side of the tub futilely.\n\n\"Oh no you don't!\" I shouted. I splashed out of the tub, completely nude, and ran after it as it scuttled away into the bedroom and hid under my bed.\n\n\"Honey?\" my husband asked from behind me. \"Um... what are you doing?\" My sopping-wet, bubble-covered butt was sticking out in the air as I knelt over on my knees with my hands wrapped around a broomstick, trying to jab at the little machine. It had found a spot so far under the king-sized bed that I was unable to reach it with my arms. \n\n\"It tried to get into the bathtub,\" I growled in response, thrusting the broomstick forward. The machine slid out of the way just in time, dodging my blow. It knew that I knew. It was trying to act innocent whenever my husband was in the room! \"It wanted to electrocute me!\" I told him. \n\nHe gently pulled me away from the bed and put my robe over my shoulders. \"Honey, I think you might need some help.\"\n\n-----\n\nMy husband was waiting for me when I got home from work. He hadn't wanted me to go today; he thought I should be going to a doctor instead. I told him that I was fine. It was the robot that needed fixing! Eventually he had agreed that some time at the office might help me calm down a bit. \n\n\"Honey, did you come home at all today?\"\n\nI stopped in the doorway and set my purse down on the hall table. \"No, I was at work all day.\"\n\nHe was doing his best pokerface, but he was awful at it. He looked suspicious, but mixed with sadness.\n\n\"You can tell me the truth, you know. I just want to help.\"\n\n\"I didn't come home!\" I told him emphatically. \"I was at the office all day. Call my secretary and check if you don't believe me.\"\n\nHe held his hands in front of him. \"I'm not accusing you of anything.\" His tone attempted to be soothing, but it had the exact opposite effect. Just saying 'I'm not accusing you of anything' meant that he WAS accusing me of something. \"Now, I know that you've been... suspicious of it recently. But I noticed that the Roomba is gone; so is its charger from the wall. And I don't thi...\"\n\n\"GONE?\" I interrupted him. I brushed past him and into the den, where its charging station was normally waiting in the corner. Instead, there was just a discolored patch of carpet. It had escaped!\n\n\"Honey, you need to stop fixating on this,\" my husband said from behind me. \"I think we need to take you to see a specialist about this.\"\n\n\"This proves it!\" I told him. \"It's not me! It really is the Roomba! I was gone all day; I couldn't have done this. You have to believe me!\" Why couldn't he see it??\n\n\"Ok, ok!\" he said. He stepped forward and wrapped me up in his arms, which he always did whenever my anxiety got the better of me. \"Don't worry. If it was trying to kill you, it's gone now. Right?\"\n\n\"Right,\" I whispered into his shoulder. Maybe it really had just gone, and I'd never see it again.\n\n\"I'm going to go call Dr. Lipcott,\" he told me as he slowly lowered me into one of the plush easy chairs in the den. \"You just take it easy, OK? I'll be right back.\"\n\nI closed my eyes and tried to count my breaths and feel my chest rising and falling. Everything was going to be OK.\n\nWhirrrrrr\n\nIt was soft, barely audible. But I had definitely heard it. My eyes snapped open and I scanned the room, but there was nothing there.\n\nWhirrrrrrrrrrrrr\n\nIt seemed to come from everywhere at once. I desperately got down on my hands and knees and checked under the furniture. I pulled up the rug in the center of the room; maybe it was hiding under there! Still nothing.\n\nWhirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr\n\nIt was coming from inside the walls!\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 16, 19, 97 ]	[ "1449784922", "1449785898", "1449791868", "1449802374", "1449796918", "1449782156", "1449784332", "1449793598", "1449771059", "1449780775", "1449767690", "1449770449" ]
	[WP] You live as long as people still remember you - literally.	3	[ "I can feel it coming over me like cold water, it shocked me at first but now I have to live with this feeling. It's so lonely to be forgotten. A parent should never have to bury their child, yet I buried three; and their children now have lives of their own, so there isn't much time to remember me. But, maybe the harshest reality of all, came not from a busy grandson, but from a busy doctor who told me I am forgetting myself.\n\n'Alzheimer's', my brain doesn't work anymore he said, in a matter of words. It won't kill me, I know I'll pass long before the disease has progressed to that point. Usually, the ones who give up go quickly, and I have given up everything... or lossed it. \n\nI thought of my partner the other day, he went ten years ago today, or so I think. Maybe I'm wrong, I doesn't matter. I don't believe in the after life, but I do find some peace knowing I be buried next to him. I love him so much, that I know. But his name has already passed, that I don't know. I am ready, I think. What does it matter? I can't remember, anyway. ", "I use my cane to shuffle up the sidewalk to my house. It seems like every bone in my body hurts. I guess bones weren't meant to last 532 years like mine have.\n\n\nWhen I open the front door, there she is. My wife. Martha. 531 years and still cooking me dinner.\n\n\n\"WHAT'S FOR DINNER?\" I yell as I slowly creak my way into the house. Martha is hard of hearing.\n\n\n\"CHICKEN POT PIE; IF YOU REMEMBERED TO GO TO THE GROCERY STORE FOR CHICKEN.\" she shouts back.\n\n\nI sigh and turn around and head straight back out the door.\n\n\n\"GRAB SOME BELL PEPPERS TOO WHILE YOU'RE OUT!\" she calls behind me.\n\n\nWhen we were young and in love, we thought spending eternity together sounded so romantic; so we were married. In our vows, we promised to never forget about one another. We thought we would be the epitome of the 'cute old couple', cuddled up on the porch swing while the grandchildren and chickens roamed the yard.\n\n\nNow, though? Now we are just tired. Our bodies ache and our minds grow bored. Death seems like a faraway fantasy; like a vacation that we will never be able to afford. I think about her every day and how she is the only one standing between me and the sweet, sweet release into nothingness.\n\n\nBecause I think about her often; angry at her for keeping me alive; I am also the only one keeping her alive. I am sure she feels the same way I do about wanting to just be done with it all, but we never talk about it. And it's not like you can forget the only reason you wake up in the morning. That's like telling someone to not think about the color yellow.\n\n\nAnd so, in this cruel world where nobody can die until every last person has forgotten about them, our young love has turned into a curse that will haunt us for the rest of our lives...which will likely be a very, very long time.", "I learned three things in high school that will stick with me forever.\n\nOne: the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.\n\nSeriously. What is with you people?\n\nTwo: the furthest measured object away from us (that we know of) appears to be a very young galaxy. It is also thirteen point three billion light years away.\n\nThree: Banksy once said that you die two deaths. First, when you breathe your last, and second, when people breathe your name for the last time. Or something. I did a project on him and it was a long time ago.\n\nI was seventeen when I first thought about forever. To put it in context, I was entering college, having just learned these lovely three facts, along with a bunch more that I quickly forgot. Also, my heart had just been broken by the messy end of a brief, summer romance that I thought would last eternity.\n\nIt's funny what they say distance does to a relationship. We were only separated around two hundred miles of distance. In this day and age, where I can use a box the size of my fist to send a message at the speed of light to the other side of the planet, that's nothing. The speed of light, incidentally, is how fast the Facebook message that dumped me traveled.\n\nSee, it was the other kind of distance, the kind that can't be put into numbers, and thus would never be crossed, that tore us apart. We were two people who were beginning to travel on two diverging roads, and that made all the difference. There was a gap between us that we decided was unbreachable.\n\nIt was that night, as I stared up at the stars, completely alone, wearing an overlarge sweatshirt and still too stunned to cry, that I began to wonder how I fit into the scheme of things. I sat there for a while, letting my fingernails dig trenches into my palms. No one had ever loved like I had, I told myself. No one had ever lost a love as pure as ours. It was stupid and melodramatic, and I knew that even then. Because by then, I was thinking about what I knew about the stars, about that distant galaxy thirteen point three billion light years away. Earth is four billion years old. The universe is less than fourteen billion.\n\nThe light from that lost galaxy, so impossibly far that I could never see it with my own eyes, not on the clearest night in the world, is three times older than our planet. It is nearly as old as the universe. By nearly, I mean plus or minus four hundred million years (ish), but at this point, large numbers start losing any convention.\n\nThat is a gap that is unbreachable.\n\nWhatever flickering bits of light from that galaxy that reach me are so unfathomably old. They predated me and my heart and my heartbreak. They predated me, the human race, and my entire planet. For all I know, that galaxy could be falling apart right now, and I would never find out for another thirteen point three billion years, at which point there is nothing left of me to find out about it with.\n\nBut the light makes it here. It takes almost forever, but it makes it. All gaps can be crossed. All wounds can heal.\n\nThese are the kinds of thoughts that might beget cynicism. Nothing I do will span that distance, not fast enough for me to hear of it before I die. Nothing I do will reach that distant corner of the universe that was old long before I was born. Banksy said we die two times—first, when our bodies expire, and second, when our names are spoken for the last time. When no one remembers us. The goal is to never die that second death, but I know: that is a lie. We will all die that second death one day. Society will eventually crumble to time.\n\nAs I sat on that bench, looking up to the skies and wondering what mysteries await us in the night sky, in the dawn that is to come, I wondered how many people before me had done the exact same thing. Across the world, in every corner of the globe through any point in space and time, someone looked up and thought. It was that thinking that set us apart from the other species with whom we share this space. It is that curiosity that drives us forward even today. Ten thousand years of humanity, where people surely lived and loved and lost just like I have, only to be forgotten, have looked up to the night sky, just like I did.\n\nIt is that feeling of collectiveness, of being together on this rock from our births until our deaths, that simultaneously makes me feel very large and very small. My life will not span thirteen billion light years. I will die. I know this. I will fade into oblivion, but I will be remembered, just barely. No matter how mediocre or fantastic I was, no one will remember who I am. Thirteen point three billion years. The specifics of me will fade away when I no longer have the energy to exist. They will fade away even more as my friends and family and everyone I have ever spoken to inevitably follow suit. This is a part of life, just as it is a part of death.\n\nMy name will vanish, but something else will not. The heartbreak we leave, the love we live, the lives we touch will ripple outward. I will live on as a tiny bit of legacy on this huge rock that houses the human race that is, in all honesty, a tiny speck to the universe in space and time.\n\nOne day, we will leave this rock. That is the only logical conclusion to this story. I may not be with us, and neither will my name, but some bit of me will linger on into eternity, like the afterimage of a fledgling galaxy on the other side of space. All distances can be breached with time.\n\nMy impact will be tiny. A smile. A text. A broken heart. All to someone who will take a tiny fragment and pass it on to someone else, who will do the same, who will do the same, for as long as our race still walks. My legacy will be so tiny it is almost invisible even on the clearest nights; it will travel so slowly that it will appear as if the distance it is trying to cross is unbreachable. But it will be whatever I choose it to be, and it will travel that road long after my light is gone.\n\nAnd—slowly, ultimately unknown, but always there—it will make its way across the universe.\n" ]	[ 2, 2, 3 ]	[ "1449814393", "1449819408", "1449810529" ]
	[WP] The opening scroll for George Lucas' Star Wars Episode VII	78	[ "War! There is a planet with unfair trade restrictions being imposed on it. The evil lord Nader, obsessed with finding Jar Jar Binks, has pursued him to the far edges of the galaxy. There are heroes on both sides. Evil is everywhere.", "A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away... \n\nHan shot first. It got changed later because we didn't realize han was gonna turn out to be such a white knight at the time we shot ep. 4 and he didn't really have any character arc later on about becoming good, so it made more sense for him not be be an overtly evil smuggler who'll murder someone for trying to make him repay a debt. But yeah, we didn't realize how much you liked supporting antiheroes in 1997. Anyway, he shot first again now. It's canon. Han's a murderer.\n\nAlso, naboo should have totally just been alderaan. Yes we realize that's not the biggest problem with the prequels, but we don't have time to get into that now. Suffice it to say, we probably should have written all 3 scripts before production on episode 1 started.\n\nFinally, yeah it sucks that the entire EU just got retconned away like that. How flipping cool was the whole Thrawn thing?! We had to do it though, to give you movies that had more in common with empire than with the worst parts of phantom and clones. Seriously, did you read some of those less popular eu books? Talk about snoozefest. Anyway, rebels, imperials, jedi, sith, yadda yadda yadda. Now it's time for a super-cool, forced-perspective establishing shot that is followed by a bunch of red shirts dying in an inconsequential battle that establishes who some of the main characters are...", "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....\n\nIt is a dark time for the New Republic. The remnants of the Galactic Empire have been reorganized into the First Order. \n\nUnder this new name the forces of evil have grown to a formidable size and have even completed a new super weapon far more powerful than the Death Stars of Old. \n\nStriking from their hidden base, General Leia, the leader of the Resistance, has dispatched Poe Dameron and his Squadron of X Wing Fighters, to engage a key First Order objective.... ", "Not as long ago....in a galaxy far far away.\n\nAfter the fall of Emporor Palpatine and his merciless apprentice Darth Vader, peace conquered the galaxy. \n\nLead by General Leia Organa solo the rebellion has continued to spread countless star systems to flush out remaining Empire fractions. Training new generations to keep order and peace among the stars, the new unstoppable Republic stays on guard.\n\nIn the shadows, strong forces have risen in the power vacuum since the fall of the Empire. Unknown enemies march on unexpected planets creating chaos and unrest. The time of peace is coming to an end as fear spreads among the Galaxy...\n\nJedi Knight Luke Skywalker searches the galaxy for any remaining Jedi and allies of the old Order. With the passing of Jedi Master Obi Wan and Master Yoda, Luke must go on alone...\n\n\n\n\n", "A long time ago, in a cash grab, far, far away\n\nStar wars Episode VII-The force awakens\n\nMany years have passed since the evil empire was defeated, and yet a new conflict must arise, in order to generate money for George Lucas. To combat this new threat 'The Empire-gold addition', Anakin, The new CGI Jabba the Hutt, a whole host of Ewoks, and their fairy god mother, Jar Jar binks, have been dispatched to take out the unknown leader of this new threat.\n\nLittle do they know, that this threat is not something they can fight, nor is it something they can see, but it is in fact George Lucas himself, as he promises to keep re-releasing old movies with shitty new CGI, and his new slave, Indiana Jones. \n\nNow with 200% more Jar Jar, this promises to be the best movie ever...", "Episode VII\n \nTHE FORCE AWAKENS\n \nIt is a time of peace across the galaxy. The mysterious First Order, the last followers of the Empire, have been pushed back to the furthest reaches of known space. \n \nPursued by the relentless forces of the New Galactic Republic, the last forces of the old order stand on the brink of inevitable defeat.\n \nAs Republic warships led by Admiral Han Solo close in around them, the Imperial remnant gathers over Jakku to make their final stand....", "It is a time of peace and prosperity for the fledgling NEW REPUBLIC. Following the death of Emperor Palpatine and Lord Darth Vader, a new golden age sweeps across the free peoples of the galaxy. Yet, some remnants of the GALACTIC EMPIRE remain defiant. In fear of a new galactic civil war, Republic leader Leia Organa accompanies her brother Jedi Master Luke Skywalker to the neutral planet of Mustafar on a final diplomatic mission. But a deadly trap awaits the Skywalker twins, one that could possibly plunge the entire galaxy into crisis once again...", "War rages as the New Republic struggles to stamp out the few remnants of the evil Galactic Empire. The Empire has cobbled together their remaining forces in the far reaches of the outer rim, where they are rumored to be developing a new super weapon far deadlier than the fabled Death Star. With tensions high as Leia Organa-Solo attempts to renew faith in a fledgling senate, the New Republic cannot afford to allow the Empire to wield fear as a weapon.\n\nGeneral Han Solo and Jedi Master Luke Skywalker have been dispatched to investigate.", "Taxation on the trading routes is in turmoil following the fall of the Empire. Following increased restrictions on the rate of inflation by the remnants of the imperial forces it has become unclear what the future will hold for the profitability of third quarter revenue listings. A new senate has been established in an attempt to create some semblance of balance in the galactic economy so as to retain a flat rate of inflation as the taxation rates of legal trading between systems fluctuate wildly. A new band of rebels, sick of the economic and political uncertainty, has formed in order to fight these newly imposed restrictions and ensure that the newly untaxed method of trading within star systems remains safe from tampering. However, having failed to reach some sort of agreement about the second quarter listings of the profitability of revenue sources from the taxation rates that are applied to the inflation rates of taxation on trade following the annual imperial report of the first quarter listings, the rebels are now fleeing across the galaxy utilising newly untaxed trading routes between systems of similar levels of inflation..." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 29, 46 ]	[ "1449856240", "1449879913", "1449883740", "1449854295", "1449862982", "1449883704", "1449860719", "1449853603", "1449853720" ]
	[WP] One day, you find a note in your breakfast; one of the guards knows you're innocent and is going to try to help you escape. You aren't innocent.	2,160	[ "He kept his word, and I breathed in the cool crisp air on the other side. Won't she be surprised when I show up to finish what I started. ", "You were innocent once. The problem was that time was changing. You were suddenly becoming less innocent. I wonder what happened? Of course, I was the one to wonder. Nothing else really mattered.", "Full version [here](http://mmheredith.tumblr.com/post/135198368555/kates-first-assignment)\n\nKate glared at the note. Who was trying to sabotage her plan? Well, not her plan, Serl's plan. She scrunched up the note and slumped down on her padded white bed in her padded white room. It was her first job for Serl. She wasn't entirely eager to please him, but she was eager to get it over with. The plan had been simple. Act crazy, get thrown in the loony bin, and give some other nut job Serl's package. \n\nThe door opened and a woman in scrubs walked in.\n\n\"I did do it!\" announced Kate.\n\n\"Did do what?\" asked the woman, a Barbie doll smile plastered to her face.\n\n\"I made the lady fly,\" said Kate. She didn't mention that 'the lady' had never been in any real danger. Yeah, Kate had pushed her off a bridge, but the lady didn't even break a bone. She would have if Serl had decided she should, but that hadn't been part of his plan. \n\n\"Yes, yes, I know. I believe you're the only guilty person in this entire building. The doctor wishes to speak with you,\" said the woman.\n\nKate, flanked by two orderlies, followed the nurse down the painted white cinderblock halls. \n\n\"This way,\" said the woman. Kate entered the office alone.\n\nThe doctor was sitting in a plush chair behind a large oak desk that was obscured by paperwork and expensive looking knickknacks. Across from the doctor were two nice, but remarkably less plush chairs. Everything was either oak or leather. The doctor gave her the shivers, and Kate worked for Serl.\n\n\"Have a seat,\" said the doctor. He didn't stand.\n\nKate padded across the grandiose room. She ran her fingers through her short blonde hair. They'd taken away the hairband she usually used to pull her hair back into a bunny tail. They'd taken away everything, except the package. Kate sat wordlessly in the chair across from the imposing doctor. \n\n\"Good morning, Miss Kate Applegate?\" said the doctor.\n\nKate nodded. It wasn't her name, Applegate, but it was what she'd told the police at her arrest.\n\nHe frowned down at the document in front of him. “It appears you didn’t have any kind of identification on your person at the time of your arrest. Why don’t we fill in some of these blank spaces before we start talking about your condition?”\n\nKate nodded.\n\nThe doctor smiled. “Good. First, how old are you?”\n\n“Sixteen,” said Kate. Not entirely a lie.\n\n “Good, and what is your street address?”\n\n“Don’t have one,” said Kate.\n\n“Really?”\n\nThey were interrupted by the screams of a fire alarm. Kate stood, eager to escape the doctor’s office.\n\n“Orderlies!” called the doctor.\n\nA moment later, she had an orderly on either side. They cuffed her and she was led through a tangle of corridors and into a courtyard filled with inmates and staff. Kate scanned the crowd. If she could find her contact now, she could disappear during the fire drill. No more conversation with the creepy doctor and no confrontation with her rescuer. \n\nA large hand gripped her arm.\n\n “What do you want?” she demanded twisting in the grip.\n\n “I’m going to get you out of here.”\n\n“Why?” demanded Kate, stalling for time. She had to deliver the package before she escaped or Serl would make her go through this entire ordeal all over again.\n\n“I was there, on the bridge. I saw. The lady, she jumped.”\n\nKate rolled her eyes. He thought she was innocent purely on a mistaken perspective.\n\n“She didn’t jump. I pushed her. Now, leave me alone,” growled Kate, yanking her arm out of his grasp.\n\nKate continued to scan the crowd for her contact. As soon as they realized there was no fire, she’d be stuck with the doctor again. \n\n“I was there, I saw what happened!” said Kate’s misguided white knight, following her as she shoved through the crowd. \n\n“I tried to kill that fat old cow in cold blood and I still wish I had. Now, leave me alone!” snapped Kate.\n\nHe took a step back, startled by her outburst. “Are you telling the truth?”\n\n“No, I want to be in the padded white hell hole,” grumbled Kate.\n\nThe orderly stepped back, suddenly seeing Kate as the monster she knew she was. When he moved, Kate saw him. Her contact was behind the orderly. \n\n“Why?” whispered the orderly.\n\nKate grinned up at him. “Because I’m crazy.”\n\nShe shouldered past the orderly and hurried over to the bent over old man.\n\n“Are you Stephan?” she asked under her breath.\n\n “Yes, but I haven’t heard that name in years.”\n\n“Serl sent me,” said Kate, fumbling under her shirt. The package was taped to her stomach and enchanted so that humans couldn’t see it. Kate could see it, but the cuffs around her wrists made it difficult to hold up her shirt and peel off the tape at the same time.\n\n“Serl? What does Serl have to do with this?” asked the man.\n\n“He sent me. I’m his apprentice,” said Kate.\n\nThe old man’s eyes widened. “You must get out of here. The doctor. If he discovers you, he won’t let you escape!”\n\nKate wrenched the package out from under the tape and held it between her and the old man. “I’m out of here as soon as you take this.”\n\nThe old man took it. Kate looked down at her hands. The cuffs should have fallen away. Anything human should pass right through her. The package had anchored her two the human world, but she still felt sold. She still felt human. Kate fumbled with the cuffs.\n\nA heavy hand fell on her shoulder and Kate spun around. The doctor was behind her, grinning. “Those will be staying on. I’m sure you’re familiar with the enchantment. I’d hate to have you disappearing before we could finish our little chat.” \n\nKate stared up at the doctor towering over her. \n", "\"This is Odd\" Thought Jeff, his mottled green eyes scanning over the note (which read):\n\n\n\"I know you're innocent. The details to your case just don't add up. I'm tired of working here, always getting spat on, yelled at, and for what? Locking up innocent men? Fuck this. Let's meet tomorrow. At 14:40, makes a commotion and I'll come in to 'inspect\"\n\n\n\"Very odd\"\n\nAll five feet nine inches of Jeff were working over time, trying to figure out just what the note was talking about... There had been video footage, though grainy and blue, of him stabbing a man in the neck at an ATM and taking his money. In fact, during the trial, Jeff had been incredibly worried that the jury was going to acquit him. Even a hardened criminal like Jeff knew that this was as solid a case as they come.\n\nBut here was a note, though scrawl like, and slightly punctured by the ballpoint of a pen, sitting in his mashed potatoes.\n\n\"Very, very odd\"\n\n\nJeff however, being an idiot, was not stupid. He instantly began making what look like, if examined from the right angle, under the right like, a plan. Within five minutes he had a detail. Then a few minutes later, another. \n\nIt was, though very quickly and brashly, decided. Jeff, tomorrow at 14:40, would cause his commotion. Wait for the guard. And stab him in the neck.\n\n\"Brilliant\" he thought, his pale cracked lips separating enough to reveal what might be considered as a smile if your standards had been genetically altered in a lab.\n\nAll evening and night Jeff went over every detail of his plan.\n\n* 1. wake up\n* 2. Go about day\n* 3. at 14:40, make commotion\n* 4. wait for guard\n* 5. stab neck\n\n\"Brilliant\". For the first time in Jeff's, he was content. The pale grey cinder walls didn't seem to bother him for some reason. His bunk mate's snoring sounded like the purring of the old Cadillac he owned on the outside. Billy, the wing's in house psycho, was still screaming, but Jeff somehow found himself enjoying it.\n\nSlowly Jeff let sleep creep into the front of his mind. As he dosed off, his bright yellow teeth began to peek out from his rat like lips again, illuminating the small cell.\n\n\n\"Wake up you low lifes!\" shouted a guard as he banged on the cell's steel door, rattling the entire room.\n\nJeff leaped from his bed. He quickly fixed the few strands of hair he had atop his mole-like skin. A quick spritz of water and he was out door.\n\nHe went about his day. A fist fight here, a kistered cookie there. Finally 14:40 came around.\n\nNot quite knowing what kind of commotion to make, Jeff went for the classic. The Chimpanzee. This technique entailed mostly two key factors. Defecating on the cell floor, and then tossing the product about the room.\n\nWithin seconds the Guards were in, cuffing Jeff. A couple of minutes later a large, bearded guard walks in. The others scurry out. He un-cuffs Jeff, looks him in the eyes and reaches into his back pocket.\n\nTo Jeff's surprise, the guard pulls out a shank, and hands it, the taped handle first, to Jeff.\n\nAs our low-life's fingers grasp the blade's handle, the guard's fist makes contact with his face.\n\nSuddenly the guard is on top of him, pummeling Jeff's already beaten and distorted face, beyond the point of repair (though most would argue that it was already there).\n\n\nAfter five minutes of a continuous barrage of fists and slurs the guard stands up, straightens himself. He looks down at Jeff.\n\nTo this day, the following words are still in a place of contention among the appropriate governing bodies, but they went something along the lines of\n\n\"You fucking like that, you Retard?\"\n\n\n*FIN* ", "Abel Eduard, or Inmate No. 42085, as he’s better known around these parts, was never very bright.\n\nBut his physique allowed him to do damage and he was good at following orders. He had done some things that he wasn’t proud of, but he felt he had paid for it in the years he had been in prison, at least part of it.\n\nHe wasn’t due to get out for another 34 years, though he was up for review in 18 months. But he had been through that process a few times and didn’t hold out much hope.\n\nHe actually didn’t mind prison much. Due to his aforementioned stature and build no one really bothered him, and his simple thoughts were enough to keep him occupied. He enjoyed the library, and being out in the yard whenever possible, and he had gotten used to the food, though that hadn’t been too much of a problem for someone without much of a palate.\n\nAnd speaking of food, that’s when Abel’s story really gets interesting.\n\nIt was breakfast, Abel could remember being groggy when he arrived in the chow hall. He first noticed something a bit off when the person serving his meal reached for a special portion as he shuffled into position with his tray.\n\nBut since it had happened so quickly, and he was still trying to banish the sleep from his mind, he hadn’t paid it much attention.\n\nHe sat down at his usual spot and began to poke at the food, trying to decide what he would start with this morning. As he dug his fork into what the state would like to have you think was “country gravy”, his fork hit some resistance beneath the pond of tepid gravy.\n\nHe assumed it was just another piece of debris that had been accidentally dropped into the pot while they were cooking it, but as he dug it out he realized that it was a piece of paper, and that there was something written on it.\n\nIt was starting to smear a bit, and the viscous gravy was also obscuring some of the writing, but he could see the words: “…you’re innocent… help… escape.”\n\nAbel sat up straight and glanced around. Then he tried to relax and act a bit more nonchalant about the whole thing.\n\nHe arranged his largess so as to provide some cover as he refocused his attention on the paper and slowly tried to clear more of the gravy from it.\n\nKeeping one hand in a blocking position he was finally able to clear enough off the note to read it in his entity.\n\n“I know you’re innocent. I’m going to help you escape. Tonight.”\n\nIt wasn’t signed. “Who had sent it?” he wondered.\n\nHe poked the note back into the gravy with his fork and then glanced up again, a bit more discreetly this time. He started to scan the room, and it didn’t take long to lock eyes with a guard standing hear the door.\n\nThe guard starred right at him and winked.\n\nNormally this would be an exciting prospect for an inmate facing another 34 years in prison. But the problem was, he wasn’t innocent, and he didn’t want to get out of prison.\n\nThere were people who meant him a lot more harm on the outside, than in here.", "I scanned the room, whoever put this piece of paper in my breakfast was about to be shanked.\n\n'I know you're innocent, tonight we escape. Show this paper to the B6 guard before cells close.'\n\nIf I knew what each character meant, I'd figure out who did it in a heartbeat - I could ask Jackhands John to read it for me. Nah, rather die then let the bastard know my secret. \n\nWhile spooning through the brown mess in my breakfast bowl, hell fire was churning in my gut tempting me to smash the plate in half and open Billy Bobs skull with it. I looked across at him, I'd already done seven days in the cage, what was another stretch? Was it him? \n\nHe shifted back, gazing deeper at his bowl of mush. \n\nFunny thing prison. I'd come here innocent -no, not like what the other cons tell you. I was innocent, for real.\n\nA janitor, framed by the same warden that ran the place and I've been putting up with this shit ever since. \n\nGod, what I'd give to get out of this place. \n\nI greeted the guards on the way back to my cell before returning to my bunk. The small hole in the opposite wall was growing, I'd been working on it each night and had asked Jim Jones for a poster to cover it up. \n\nKnock Knock\n\n\"Ey Jax! I've got news homie. Posters in!\" \n\nIt was Jim.\n\n\"Wassup Jim, put it down on the table homie.\" I clapped him five. \n\nJim leaned back on the wall, \"So listen Jax, i'm short on dough homie -you think you can throw a lil paper my way? I can let the balance slide.\" \n\nThis little...\n\n\"Now we had a deal little man, don't ever disrespect that, especially if you value your life. Screw your money homie, you want paper? Here.\" I boomed, throwing the small square of paper at his face, I stood eyeing him until he faltered. \n\nAfter Jim left, I was finally able to put up the poster and get some peace and quite.\n\nSleep took me like a babe, with dreams of one day escaping this hell hole. \n\n\n\n\n", "He knows I'm innocent...\n\nI suppose his revelation is meant to be my elevation. \n\nHis note, written with equal parts recklessness and selflessness, didn't move my spirit in the same way he intends to move me. \n\nDoes he not know me? It couldn't have been selflessness. No. Is he so ignorant that his desire for good deeds must blot out his logic? If he knows that I am innocent then he must also know the sort of man I was before these bars closed around me. He should have known that I was a man that wore these bars around his heart long before this physical incarceration. I was a prisoner of my own making, and that is unforgivable.\n\nThe irony of it all is that I felt most alive just before the sirens and the handcuffs.\n\nNo, I won't move. My skin will fade to the colour of these concrete walls. My spirit will dim to the wattage of the bulbs swinging from the hallway beyond these bars. I will allow this to happen because in truth I have already allowed it to happen long before the fall of the gaval and the clang of my cell door. When two paths diverged in the wood of my life, I took the one most traveled by. I always charted the middle path. I fell in line with the endless trains of the faithless. And that has made all the difference. I lacked any difference from anything else.\n\nAn old man once told me that if you stay in one place too long you become that place. He was a rock of a man, but at least a heart pounded in his chest. At least he lived. \n\nAnd so, in spite of the pleading heart of my well-meaning guard, I will become this place.\n\nI deserve this place.", "I decided I wanted to tell him that I actually wasn't innocent. Honesty seemed like my best option with how little I knew about the situation. But I didn't know how to identify him, so I wrote a note that read \"not innocent\" and let it fall beneath the table, guessing he would see me do it and pick it up when the prisoners left the mess hall. I don't exactly know if he did, because I never heard anything back from him. \n \n~~~ \n \nSorry its pretty short, this is just how it played out in my head. I've never been in prison so I'm guessing the setting is a mess hall, but other people seem to think meals are delivered to your cell", "Damn, I'm always late to the good prompts! Anyway, here we go.\n\n###Second Chances\n\nI see my world and the entirety of my presence in it. My life before my eyes as I ask a silent sky: what led me to this point?\n\nBorn too young to a mother who didn't survive me; I spent my life ensuring no one else would die before they could see their son, or grow up without a mother.\n\nWould she have been proud of the path I chose? My father was. A great man who nurtured my passion for healing until the day he himself fell to time. That was a low for me. It was around then that I was called to war. A battle between two sides of a playground argument, where all those to pay were merely pieces on a board. I fix such pieces.\n\nFor years the battle raged. Knives to guns, rocks to rockets, there were no shortage of tools for the destruction of man. All the while I sat there in a sanctuary where all sides were welcome. I'd healed both friend and foe for so long that I'd forgotten which was which. They hadn't.\n\nI was consoling a boy one day; trying my best to wipe away his tears as I apologised for my own ineptitude. Whether it be because of skill, medicine, luck, or all of these combined; no reason is good enough for a boy who will never again see his father. I still had the man’s blood on me as the child ran away down the corridor. A flickering light acted as transition between his fleeing figure and that of a squadron of approaching armed men.\n\nThese uniforms I had seen before, but usually with limbs missing. Now they came for me, and led me to the next chapter of my life as a prisoner of war. I'd personally saved some of these bastards and here they were on guard duty.\n\nTime passed. Fifteen years had left me in my late thirties and with nothing but four walls and a piece of bread to my name.\n\nThe cells beside me were once filled with my countrymen but one by one they were led out. I'm now all that's left.\n\nI look down at the loaf and notice something baked into the warm crumb. A note.\n\n\"Be ready at the chimes of midnight\"\n\nI stay up that night, anxiously running my hands through unkempt hair as I ask question after question. What was I waiting for? Who was coming?\n\nThe chimes strike and my usual guard is nowhere to be seen. Instead a much younger man appears with full chef attire and key in hand.\n\n\"Come quickly!\" he urges as the cell door swings open.\n\n\"But I... they said I was leaving in a week... maybe I should—\"\n\n\"They lied!\" he yells in a whisper to my frightened concerns. \"They’re going to take you to your death. Come with me now or face it\"\n\nI don't require convincing. We go right, a few turns here and there and then before I even have a chance to appreciate how close freedom has been all these years, I have it.\n\nWe are outside. The moonlight bathes me in its cold glow as an icy chill rushes past me. I embrace it.\n\nI absorb every hint of night air. Its crisp texture fills my lungs and spin on the spot in delight.\n\n\"Thank you\" I say breathless to the man behind me. I'm still staring at the moon when I continue my appreciation \"You've given me a second chance and I promise you it will not be wasted\"\n\n\"They were going to free you\" he says from behind me.\n\nI simply laugh in return, lost by his last statement \"Then why did you free me—\"\n\nI can't finish. I feel cold on my back for a split-second before it's violently pulled away. I turn and look down to see my near-black blood cake an otherwise flawless piece of metal.\n\nHe puts the kitchen knife back in; repeatedly thrusting its blade into my sternum. I can't speak. I can't ask why. I can simply look confused as I slump to the ground.\n\n\"That was for my father\"\n\n**\n\nThanks a lot for taking the time to read. All criticism is greatly welcomed.\n\nI apologise if I made some mistakes, I was awoken and 2:30 am and haven't been able to sleep since. Still lying in bed as I write this.\n\nSome more of my works (complete with readings) can be found on my sub over at [/r/viz0r](https://www.reddit.com/r/viz0r/search?sort=new&restrict_sr=on&q=flair%3AReading)\n\nAgain, that's for reading.", "I deserved what I was getting, I knew that much. Unfortunately, I lost all the money I had hoarded over the years in a fire a few weeks before I was arrested, so I couldn't afford a good lawyer. Ironically, it's the same fire that got me caught.\n\nIt's been a year or so since the prosecution. I don't really know how long exactly. I was caught December 4th, 2014. I know it's almost Christmas because I see guards give an inmate the occasional gift from the outside. Some people are allowed to receive mail. I'm not one of those, unfortunately.\n\nLuckily, I have one perk. Even though I murdered 10 people, my lawyer was good enough to get me into regular prison. Food in prison wasn't that great. I got to order what I wanted, although the selection was limited and I had to do it while I was getting dinner. They always mixed up my food. I'd get eggs and toast when I wanted to get oatmeal. And vice versa. I'm glad I'm not in high security with the animals that are in there. These people aren't that much better, but at least I won't get killed by them. Or at least, there's a smaller chance\n\nI was surprised when I got the letter under my plate of food. A greasy piece of paper read: \"We know you are innocent. We will help you escape at 5:00 am Christmas Morning\"\n\nBut the fact remained, I wasn't. So then how do they think I'm innocent, much less know that I'm innocent? I did kill those ten people. I remember their faces. Is this a test? Will I be let off the hook if I refuse?\n\nI decided I wasn't going to go. I was going to tell on them, though. That could be enough to get me off death row. I didn't have an understanding of the law, but I knew that you could get off because of good behavior, so why not get off death row because you caught 3 cops trying to let a criminal out?\n\nI couldn't go to sleep on Christmas Eve. I was too excited. It was unfortunate that they were going to get fired on Christmas, but I don't want to die. It was a long night. I kept checking the clock. It seemed like hours passed in between minutes. Finally, it was 4:58. I heard footsteps come down the hall. I whispered at them, \"Hey, over here!\". The shadows looked at each other, and one of them was holding something. Probably keys.\n\nHe walked over to my cell and reached in. I grabbed his hand and yanked on it. I might as well escape on my own terms, I thought. That was when I felt a rag cover my mouth. It had a noxious odor. Shit, I thought. They're going to murder me. One of those people I killed was related to them or something.\n\nI woke up still in my cell. The cell block had police officers crowded in it. I had a headache. I got up and looked around. But... they were supposed to let me out. Then I remembered when I got the note. It was under an egg. I ordered oatmeal for breakfast, and I got an egg and toast. I looked at the cell the officers were staring at. The door was open. A file was left. The officers were looking at the files.\n\nI wasn't the one they thought was innocent.", "I took my usual seat with the rest of the untouchables in the back left corner of the dining hall. After a short grunt of acknowledgement accompanied by a nod to the familiar group of outcasts, I picked up my spoon and began to eat. Surveying the Wednesday meal consisting of a milk carton, bland cereal and half an apple strained my blackened right eye and caused it to tear up. But the cold metal of the spoon felt soothing to my swollen hand so I tried to think of that feeling and nothing else. Between the painful beatings and other brutal humiliations that have become routine, momentary sensations of comfort or relief must be dwelled upon with an iron focus if I am to keep going. \n\nIt would be easy to let memories of my cellmate Alvarez with his strong and cruel grip in the night circulate my thoughts. He always whispered in my ear that I deserved it and that he was doing God's work by punishing me. It started almost as soon as I entered my cell two years ago. My Mother burst into tears the first time she saw me. I'll never forget the helpless anguish in her voice as she could only utter \"My boy, oh my little boy\" again and again. I knew from the experience of other untouchables that there was no alternative but to endure it. If I told the guards I would be met with a smirk or holed up in solitary for my 'protection\". After a week, you lose your nerves and claw the walls. After a month, your personality breaks down and you begin to regress into a shell of what was once a thinking being. After a year it is hard to say. \n\nAs I scooped up a dripping morsel of cereal I noticed with my good eye a small piece of paper tucked beneath the bowl. As casually as I could, I plucked it out and undid the several folds which revealed a few lines of handwriting. It was a note. \"Get admitted to the infirmary, tonight's the night\". A wave of excitement caused a slight smile to curl around my battered lips. It had worked. Months of preparation and luck had led up to this moment. \n\nFirst I had to find the right kind of guard. He had to be young, naive and still able to see a shred of goodness amongst the wretched herd within these walls. A relationship had to be formed. For weeks I told him my story of how I was falsely accused and convicted. How the girl's father made her lie for the sake of the family's honour. He had grown up in a small town south of the border before coming here with his family and had friends who suffered the same misfortune. The power of religious values and the scrutiny of the community had caused some his friends to suffer the same misfortune. I told him of the harsh realities I suffered in silence each night and how my mother aged 10 years each time she saw my pulverized face. \n\nI never thought he would go this far. The young man had a heart and saw me as a personification of injustice. If all goes well tonight then perhaps tomorrow I'll find another girl. Given the chance I would tear out the liver of Alvarez and make him eat it. However I will admit he has taught me some tricks and I have two years to make up for. \n\n", "A young man sat alone in an ill fitting blue guardsman uniform in the second row of uncomfortable metal seats of the sky rail. He looked out the window into the dark sky and was thankful for the solitude, because he was nervous about his first shift as a guard at the Criminal Housing building of his city's Center. He could easily make out the imposing dark blue structure of his new workplace, brightly lit by the surrounding city against the pre-dawn morning sky, towering above the surrounding buildings. The Center was a massive, omni-purpose building made up of three rectangular box-like buildings, positioned in a triangular formation with one circular building placed in the center of the formation. Each of the outer buildings had massive, glass encased, brightly lit metal walkways protruding from the corner of the building, each connecting to the central building. The young man was able to see that the outer buildings each had an equal number of walkways, all of which were equidistant from each other. \n\nHe continued to watch the building as the sky rail continued to hum, sliding towards it. His mind slowly wandered back to the events of last week, and instantly adding dejected hopelessness to his nervousness; causing him to look away from The Center, and towards the carpeted floor of the sky rail. She left because you were a loser with no job, no powers, and nothing going for you, the young man thought, this is your chance to start making something of yourself, your chance to move out of that shitty apartment, and your chance to show her that you are good enough. The door of the sky rail opened with a hiss, snapping him out of his depressed stupor.\n\n\"Criminal Housing, New Breton Center\", the calm voice emanating from the ceiling of the sky line said.\n\nThe young man timidly exited the sky rail and stepped into the early morning air, onto the raised platform, and began to drudge slowly toward the base of the insurmountable building. He anxiously went over some of the protocols he learned last week during his orientation in his head as he walked, 1. Never remove an inmate's null-metal cuffs; 2. Never bring any unapproved objects into an inmate's cell; 3. Wear your identification badge at all tim--, his train of thought came to a jerking halt as he realized his immediate proximity to the entrance. He walked to the right side of the door, reaching to the badge clipped to the chest pocket of his uniform, he shakily unclipped the badge and held it up to the sensor, half expecting the door to not open. He was met with inflection-less voice, \"Nathan Reston\", followed by the smooth whooshing sound of the door opening vertically, revealing a dark hallway, leading to an elevator. Nathan, despite walking down this hallway just over a week ago, couldn't help but imagine the open door to be like the open maw of some terrible beast, ready to devour him whole. A desire to leave overwhelmed him, he knew this was a waste of time, nothing he did mattered anyways. \n\n\"Don't be stupid, I am not wasting anymore chances\", he muttered under his breath. He forced the thoughts out of his mind, and walked forward. \n\nNathan stood, shoulders slumped, watching the display inside of the elevator tensely, it stopped a few floors shy of his intended floor. The doors smoothly opened to reveal a middle aged, straight backed man wearing the same guardsman uniform as Nathan, however, unlike Nathan, his hair was damp, and slicked back to fully expose his face. He had a face of sharp and pronounced angular features, Nathan felt as though he seeing a human version of a bird of prey. The man entered the elevator without looking at Nathan, and took his place in the elevator. Nathan continued to discreetly look at the man out of the corner of his eye, the man was a good three or four inches taller than Nathan, the man's uniform was completely free of blemishes and was obviously well maintained, however, it, like Nathan's uniform, did not fit properly. \n\n Nathan began to anxiously shift his weight from foot to foot, futilely willing his disheveled brown hair to tidy itself, and for his uniform to fit properly. The man looked over, noticing Nathan's nervous fidgeting, \"Who are you, kid?\", he said in a relaxed, smooth tone.\n\n\"Nathan Reston, sir. Today is my first day\", Nathan mumbled, still unconsciously fidgeting.\n\nThe man turned to him and looked directly at Nathan, with a stone faced expression, and said, \"Well Nathan, if you piss yourself while I am still in this elevator with you I will lock you in a cell for an hour with a violent pedophile\". Nathan's face flushed as the elevator dinged, the doors opening again, he hadn't noticed that he had arrived to his floor. The man's expression softened with a chuckle, \"looks like you made it Nathan, I guess Bulldozer is going to be lonely today\".\n\nThe flush drained from Nathan's face as he watched the man exit the elevator. Out of all the forty-nine floors in this building, he thought, still reeling from the embarrassment, I just had t--.\n\n\"Well anyways, welcome to floor thirty-three, I am the captain of this floor, you may call me, um, 'Captain'. So, did you do your homework? Do you know what kind of criminals we keep here?\"\n\n\"Um, Telekinetics, right?\", Nathan said, stepping into the large room, elevator doors closing behind. He glanced uneasily at the glass doors of the cells lining both of the walls, and at the metallic cage in the center of the room.\n\n\"You are correct!\", Captain said in a jovial voice, Nathan began to feel uncomfortable with this kind of out of place, eccentric, attitude. \"So are you ready for the tour of our fine floor?\", he asked, coming over and clapping Nathan on the back and dragging him further into the room. Captain pointed to the cage in the center of the room and said, \"that is the control center for this room, it controls the alarms, the automated defenses, hell, it can even suck all the air right out of the room, killing everyone in it!\", he made a whooshing sound to emphasize the last item on his list. \n\n\"Where is everyone, sir? In orientation, they said that a morning crew has four people in it.\" Nathan asked, his confusion and anxiety putting him on edge.\n\nCaptain glanced down at Nathan and said after a barely noticeable pause, \"You are early, Nathan! The night crew clears out after giving the inmates their breakfast at five A.M., which is really nice of them, cause I hate having to go into those stinky-ass cells, they only get one shower a week you know.\" Captain glanced over at the cells, walked over to it, dragging Nathan behind him, and said, \"let us continue the tour then! Here we have our favorite inmate, Johnathan Arko, the uh- previous day shift captain of this floor.\" Nathan saw a naked man curled into the fetal position on the floor of his cell, inmate uniform balled up in the corner of the cell. The man looked up, eyes wide, and attempted to scream something at Captain and I through the thick glass. \n\nNathan stiffened, completely transfixed by the man in the cell, who was beginning to rise to his feet,\"w-what?\", Nathan stammered quietly. \n\n\"Yea; Johnathan here is dumb as shit. I fed him a story about how I use telekinesis to steal from the rich so that I can give money to the poor, and he let me out! Can you believe that? Actually; I guess I do steal from the rich, but that's only because they have the most shit, and because it is fun!\", Captain said in an amused voice accompanied by a smile. Johnathan began to pound on the glass, still shouting something, \"yea, yea, I know, I would be upset if I were as stupid as you, too! Well, you did fuck up your identification card before I could take it, so I suppose you are not completely retarded\", he continued, arm still wrapped around Nathan's shoulder. \"But hey, at least you had good intentions\", Captain's hand suddenly swiped diagonally upwards from his side and Johnathan's body promptly flew into the upper corner of the room. Captain then moved his hand straight down, resulting in Johnathan's limp body crashing back down into the ground, his body laid still, arm jutting out in an awkward angle, and skull cracked grotesquely, gushing blood steadily. \n\nNathan's mind was a jumbled storm of terror and, to his shock, in the back of his mind he was fascinated with the display. He tried to find the words that would save his life, his consciousness was consumed by one thought, I don't want to die. \"I-I-I--\", he sputtered in his panic, completely frozen in his fear. \n\nCaptain released Nathan and turned to him, his face had lost its happy jovial expression, and was replaced with a grim, almost sad expression, \"I'm sorry kid, I like you, you remind me of myself when I was a kid, but I need your I.D. to escape -- and I can't risk you sounding the alarms on me\". Captain raised his hand and Nathan had an odd sensation of floating; it was as though he were floating in a completely still pool, feeling the water press on him gently.\n\nTake a chance, you have nothing to lose, this could be so much better than some shitty job as a guard, Nathan thought. \"Wait!\", Nathan blurted out, \"Take me with you, I know that I am probably completely worthless; but I can learn to be of use! Please--\", his voice trailed off as his courage began to fade. \n\nCaptain's smile returned.\n\n \n\n \n\n ", "(Late to the party but here goes ...)\n\nIt has been a strange two weeks. Lots of up and down. For a while it seemed like events were finally going my way - a judge was ready to review my case, the lawyers were optimistic. Then yesterday it all came to nothing. The appeal was denied. And I am back where I started. So many times in my time here I have been tempted to give up the pretense and yell out loud \"Yes I did it! I killed her!\". But I've held back, kept up the facade, never giving up all these years. And then, when Sarah came into my life it seemed like all my patience and hard work were finally paying off. I allowed myself to hope like I had never hoped before. Now my hopes have been crushed like snails on the sidewalk. I don't know if I can go on anymore. \n\nSigh. Self pity. It never does anyone any good. Take it one day at a time. Breakfast time is almost over, I should get some food in me. I pick up my spoon and dip it warily in the sloppy mush before me. That's when I notice the folded piece of paper under the bowl. I glance around quickly, then pick it up and read it under the table. It reads a lot like the fan mail I sometimes get. But this one has been written by a guard! Someone who can actually help me!\n\n\"I have followed your story with great interest and sympathy. No one who has seen you, talked to you, can doubt your innocence for a second. I believe you were framed. Personally I think Jay did it. But whoever is the guilty person, I'm sure you are innocent. I heard about your failed appeal. If our system won't give you justice, I will. I think I have figured out a way to get you out of here. I'll be in touch again soon. In the meantime, don't try to figure out my identity, keep your head down and go on as usual. Don't lose hope, together we will fix the injustice you have faced.\n\nStay strong, Adnan!\n\n-- A Friend and Admirer.\"\n\nI smile. I knew that podcast would open doors for me! I eat a spoonful of the oatmeal and once again, allow myself to hope.", "I believe you are innocent.\n\nThey were words I never thought I would hear, or see for that matter, mainly because they weren't true. I was far from innocent, even if the evidence they used in my case was fairly questionable, the Judge saw right through me and my \"insanity\" act. It wasn't long before the trial and the moment the door was slammed on my solitary confinement cell. A life sentence, no chance for parole, and ten years of solitary confinement. Good behavior didn't apply to someone like me.\n\nYet those words, those five simple words, were staring back at me on a small piece of paper that was delivered with my daily lunch. It was the first time I had said anything in a long time, and even then, all I could muster was a long sigh. Who put the note there, I did not know, and why they believed I was innocent was a question I didn't want to ask, but also couldn't ask. All I knew was that someone, a guard or a cook, believed I was an innocent man and wrongly accused. I liked the idea of that.\n\nAs I was in no position to try and talk back, I simply held onto the note. I waited it out in solitary, diligently searching through each and every one of his meals for another. I wanted to know more. Anything that would help me identify the person behind the original note.\n\nIt was, according to my best estimates, six months after the first note that the second one arrived. The same, triple-folded, white stock paper, no bigger than the palm of his hand, with a black Sharpie used to write the note showed up under his soup bowl.\n\nI have a plan.\n\nThe note's started to come more frequently after that. I stashed them in my pillow case every time another arrived and within the year, I had seven notes. All of which were attempting to explain to me the big plan the mysterious writer had put in place. For someone as bright as a man trying to break someone out of maximum security prison, he must not have looked into my case very well to know the difference between an innocent man and a man like me.\n\nThe last note I received was before the planned breakout. It detailed the moment in which I were to escape from my cell and where I was to go. It was pretty simple in writing, but I knew the moment the shots started, things would go crazy. Whoever this guy was had a good idea, but he was failing in the execution. I needed a bigger diversion, something that would keep every guard, cook, and worker in this prison busy while I escaped.\n\nI had to try and get a note to him before the big day. I used a pebble from my cell, one of the ones that fell off from the constant torment of prisoners, and I carved a simple message onto the tray.\n\nNeed riot. -DB\n\nIt wasn't noticeable if you weren't looking for it, carefully written so it could buried by the bowl, cup, and wooden spoon. Even if they did find it, the worse that could happen was a beating and I had gone through plenty of those days in my time on the streets. \n\nIt wasn't long before the mysterious writer agreed to my terms. A week later, I received another note, the last one.\n\nThat was dumb. Plans arranged. Good luck. -S\n\nThe fact that this one was signed threw me off. Until now, I had no inclination of who this mysterious writer was or what their role in the prison was, but I finally had a clue. I figured \"S\" stood for a name, it was the only thing that made sense. The moment of my escape was coming and I could almost feel the wind upon my face again. All I had to do was wait.\n\n____\n\nMy dinner tray had been taken two rounds ago, which usually meant two hours. Every time a security guard walked in front of my door, it reset the clock. It had been seven weeks since my latest note, and still, I had heard nothing and received no inclination that the escape was still on. For all I knew, whoever was writing the messages was caught and tried. \n\nThat was until my door cracked open. It wasn't something you would notice if you had better things to do, but I had been stuck in this six by eight cell for almost two years now. I noticed the little things, even ones as simple as a slight shift in the breeze of my cell. It was open, my freedom was in front of me.\n\n\nI was careful, of course. I walked up to the door slowly and deliberately. There was no indication that a guard was on the other side, but I had to be careful, I had gotten this far without any---\n\n\"Hey,\" a voice on the other side said, \"you best get moving.\" The door opened quickly and a small, young man was on the other side. At best, he was in his early twenty's and he dawned the attire of a security guard. But something about him screamed criminal, something in my heart told me I knew this kid before.\n\n\"Who are you?\"\n\nThe kid laughed a bit and then lifted his helmet. I recognized the face, it was one of my prodigies that helped me run crimes back in my hay-day. He was an excellent bank robber. Tiny, so he could get through all the nooks and crannies. \"Hopkins?\"\n\nHe nodded excitingly, \"In the flesh, boss.\"\n\n\"What the hell are you doing here?\"\n\n\"I'm helping bust you out,\" he slid his helmet back on, \"we best get moving. That riot won't last forever.\"\n\nI didn't hesitate and I started to follow him down the hallway. Every single cell door had been opened and there were several unconscious officers and guards every few feet. \"Why didn't I hear any of this?\"\n\n\"Oh, me and the boys set this up.\" Hopkins shrugged, \"Wanted to make it look like a struggle.\"\n\nI nodded, that was smart of them. It would make the riot look more believable, that it spread through the entire prison before being shut down. All it took was a few well-placed bodies. \n\nBefore long, Hopkins and I were in the cafeteria, where the brunt of the riot seemed to have taken place. \"We started it here,\" he murmured as he straddled himself over unconscious and possibly dead bodies, \"in case you were wondering.\"\n\n\"Who set this up?\"\n\nHopkins chuckled, \"Don't worry, you'll be meeting them shortly.\"\n\nI raised an eyebrow. I had been out of the game for a while, two years in prison, another three in isolation, six more for health, I just hoped they remembered who the boss was.\n\n\"Helicopter on the roof is going to fly you right out of here.\"\n\n\"A helicopter? That seems excessive.\"\n\n\"You want to hear excessive?\" Hopkins kicked a guard in the face as he lept over a table and towards the stairwell, \"The helicopter is going to crash land in the ocean, you and the pilot will survive of course, but two body doubles are going to be placed inside.\" Hopkins started moving up the stairs, I tried to keep up, but it had been a while since I moved any muscle in this way. \"You'll be picked up by boat and brought to the new HQ?\"\n\n\"And that'd be?\"\n\n\"Don't want to spoil the surprise just yet!\"\n\n_____\n\nContinued in second comment due to length.", "To be honest, I almost ate it.\n\n'I know you don’t belong here, be ready when the dinner plates cycle.'\n\nMy stomach rumbled more than it usually did at the mush the prison called breakfast. I stared at the note with a mixture of relief and surprise. Someone had believed me. Someone actually believed me. When the sound echoed from my belly again, I shoved the note back into the mush and decided the best way to keep whoever my guardian angel was safe was to destroy the evidence. The paper proved tastier than any of the meals I had in the week I had been behind the bars.\n\nI shared my usual quip with the guards outside my cell - what I wouldn’t give for a roast - then went back to the bunk. I couldn’t help the smile that worked its way onto my face. They, perhaps, could have given me just a little more information. Be ready for what? A loud explosion? A hole to be dug? Were they the night guard?\n\nMy surprise was nonexistent at the slug pace the day had. The sun, for the brief time it was above the outside wall, crawled along the cell. My family hadn’t been able to save me from a sentence, but at least I was alone and comfortable. More than those thuggish brutes a few doors down could say.\n\nWhen the final plate of the day slid under the door to my cell, I picked it up and prodded the mashed potatoes. I think they were mashed potatoes. Either way, I felt something harder than the wooden plate chink under my spoon. With a bit of digging, the brass key shimmered in the rapidly disappearing light. I slid it out, then sat on it while I ate. If I were doing any sort of sneaking out this evening, I would need as much energy as I could achieve.\n\n“Elizabeth, ma’am?”\n\nI grimaced at the whisper when I opened the meal-flap to the door.\n\n“Just wait for the sun to go down, then I can lead you to your mother. She’s right upset about all this.”\n\n“I--” I choked on the words. “I can’t wait to see her again.”\n\nAs I rolled the thought in my head, I came to the conclusion that this guard was simply gullible. But, in any case, he tapped my door quietly once the last armored footsteps faded from the outside. I slid the key out of him, and my heart pounded at the sound of the lock unhitching.\n\nWhen the door open, I flung myself to him, trying to force tears down my face.\n\n“Oh, thank you. Thank you!” I whispered.\n\nHe awkwardly patted my back, his face a brilliant red, even in the dim light. “O-Of course, ma’am. Please, this way!”\n\nHe ran me through the halls, making far more noise than if I had gone on my own. He opened a side door in a dark corner of the guards’ common room, motioning for me to go first.\n\nThe hallway led straight outside, and I froze in the moonlight. This city truly did not have enough guards.\n\nThe one that followed me pulled me to the far wall. He unlocked a door that I would have missed without any assistance and led me into the city.\nI saw my mother waiting in an alley only a few minutes later.\nI burst into tears, rushing to her. We embraced, both overwhelmed. She sputtered her thanks to the guard. His bashful response lasted too long.\n\n“Please,” my mother said tearfully. “I just… Thank you. You should get back before anyone notices, I would hate for you to get in trouble.”\n\nIt took him a moment to realize what she meant. When he rounded the corner, out of sight, my mother smacked me upside the head.\n\n“Ten thousand gold, and you screw it up,” she hissed.\n\nI grimaced. “I did it, though, it’s not my fault no one told me his freaking personal guard were elves.”\n\n“You didn’t think an elven ambassador would have elven guards?” My mother rubbed her face face, then took a deep breath. “No. No, I promised your father I wouldn’t do this. For some reason, your court pleas worked. The Black Hand wasn’t mentioned at all.”\n\nI did a small fist pump of victory. It earned me another smack.\n\n“Don’t get comfortable. You still can’t be in the city, and we have just the contract to make sure of that.”", "I was sitting there studying my bread roll, trying to decide if the slightly odd discoloration was mold. I rotated the roll to see if the underside had any other odd patches when I noticed it. A small hole, something white barely peeking out. A small piece of paper, it appeared. I removed the paper, which was tightly rolled up and under an inch long and discreetly tucked it into my shoe. This was clearly important and I didn't want to read it in the cafeteria. We were closely watched, and I had no idea what the message contained, nor from whom it came.\n\nLater, after much patience, I finally found a window of opportunity. I was reclined on my bunk in my cell, as I had opted not to spend my recreational time in the yard, on the grounds that it was too cold out and I had recently been ill. I leaned back on my bunk, and carefully unrolled the paper, shielding it with my favorite novel. \n\n\"know u dint do it gona get u out 3am wait at ur cell n keep quite -CO jameson\"\n\nI must say, I cringed. This was not the manner I would have delivered such news, but well, I suppose it was good news, and I had no right to be particular in my predicament. Although I shouldn't have been so surprised that a correctional officer wouldn't have the greatest grasp of the English language per se. However, I found the idea of this C.O. Jameson being the sender of this message as quite a surprise. We had barely ever had an interaction, save for the time I did find myself staring at his face, wondering if I had seen it before. There was a very familiar quality to it, as though I had seen him before. I do remember feeling slightly embarrassed when he caught me staring. Even at this particular institution I tried to remember to mind societal norms. It was very trying at times, but my reputation had spared me from any harassment to my person.\n\nLater that night, as I sat awake waiting for C.O. Jameson, I started to think even harder on the possible motive for his actions, risky as they were. Why me? I was clearly guilty. I had an audience of witnesses to my crimes. Ah, my poor wife, her poor family. I hadn't meant to murder her in such a manner, heavens no. I believe I had a drop too much, and out it all came, days, and weeks, and months, and years of build-up anger and aggression in one day. I'd have rather slowly poisoned her. But I digress, you know all of this already.\n\nThe appointed time had come. C.O. Jameson whispered at the cell, asking if I were ready. I approached as he slid open the door, not exactly as silently as I would have liked. He told me to follow him, and I went along behind him, advancing to the front of the main lobby. He turned to me and explained that his father was a ardent reader of my novels, and in fact had been one of my students at Cambridge. C.O. Jameson's father had insisted that I had absolutely no involvement with the death of my wife, and I suppose my young guard, wanting to please his father, had decided to assist in my escape.\n\n I asked C.O. Jameson for the name of his father and the year of his enrollment in my course. Phillip Jameson, he told me, and the year was 1962. Ah, yes, I remembered his father quite well. I was his mentor, he, my most prized pupil. He clung to every word I said, and retained even the most complex ideas easily. I suppose I would say he had an almost aggressive desire to learn. I always wondered what had become of him.\n\nI left the prison shortly after, but not before asking him to send my kindest regards to his father. I then walked to an area he had indicated, finding a small parcel with a change of clothing and some currency. I made my way quite easily to the home of my only sister, Rosalie. I sat safely in her home for a week, pondering the circumstances I were now in. This young man who had saved me; the son of my best pupil. What I wouldn't give to have someone like his father again. And this poor young man, who was working among the worst of humanity. His father didn't deserve that, his father deserved a well-educated son with higher ambitions and a sharp intellect.\n\nThese circumstances are the reason I am writing this now. I returned to the prison a week from my departure, and informed the authorities the manner of my escape as well as the name of my assistant. C.O. Jameson, I hope, will find the time he will spend as my student to be very informative. I would like to see him develop a love of learning just like Phillip Jameson, my greatest accomplishment. \n\nI write this confession of my full and free will.\n\nYours, \n\nProfessor Steven Breckinridge", "Guantanamo Bay was so much nicer than my desk job in DC. They even give us hummus butt-smoothies here. Do you know how much you would pay for that sort of thing in California? But as the CIA operative behind the 9/11 conspiracy, I knew my time was limited. Then one day, I was handed my ticket home.\n\n\"I know you are innocent. Jet fuel can't melt steel beams,\" it said.\n\nI read it again and looked at the guard. It wasn't the usual one. He looked distinctly Arabic, and his right hand was somehow... robotic?\n\n\"I am Cyber bin Laden. Come with me.\" He unlocked my cell door and led me outside through the tennis court and day spa to the helicopter pad. There on the launchpad was a magical goat with lasers for eyes.\n\n\"Is this real?\" I asked bin Laden.\n\n\"Yes. The technology has been in wide use since the 1940's, but the same UFO crash that led to this also helped us develop chem-trail tech. No one will remember we were here.\"\n\nAs we both mounted the magical steed, Cyber bin Laden threw back his head and cackled. \"Now to destroy Christmas! AHAHAHA!\"\n", "The hatch in the wooden door opened squeakily. The ray of light coming out of the opening threw long shadows on the cold brick wall in the back of the room. The man who sat on the worn mattress squeezed his eyes shut, as he had accustomed to the darkness of his cell. The brightness hurt him physically, and mentally. For his crimes he was sentenced to life in prison: an old fortress on a small island miles from the coast, stashed away in isolation, never to be seen or heard from again. He had grown into the darkness, the acceptance of his doomed fate had caused him to embrace his hopeless situation. Every time he saw the light his heart stirred, a faint pain that caused his chest muscles to contract. No, when the hatch opened he normally chose to turn around and stare at the wall, or crawl under the musky, thin blanket. He said farewell to the light long ago, the hopes and possibilities it could bring only worsening his sorrow.\n\nSomething was different this time. A bowl of thick soup and a hunk of bread was thrown onto the floor, but the hatch remained open longer than usual. ''Here you go'', he heard, a faint voice coming from behind the door as the hatch closed loudly. \n\nNo one had talked to the prisoner before. His days were spent in silence, and the only interruptions were the quick cleanings done monthly to ensure he wouldn't die in his own filth. All he did was sit, stare at the walls and contemplate his sins.\n\nThe carriage had arrived at the crossroads at the exact time that was predicted by his informants. The group of soldiers circling the vehicle had been cautious. They were handpicked by the general of the King's army, and were the best soldiers available to escort the King's sons back home from a diplomatic mission to a neighboring country, Elokko. Even with their experience and unmatched loyalty to the royal family, they didn't stand a chance. The fifty vagabonds had swarmed the carriage, and while twenty didn't live - a heavy price to pay - they were able to capture the King's sons. They had acquired the leverage they needed to claim independence from the tyrannic crown. And it was a price he had been willing to pay. A price he would pay to this day.\n\nHe crawled from the mattress, his thin arms reaching for the bowl. As his hand grasped the side of it, he noticed a rough edge on the bottom of the bowl. He carefully took the bowl in both hands and climbed on his mattress and lifted the bowl above his head. The small crack into the wall let a beam of weak sunlight into his cell, and he could see a small piece of paper attached to the bowl. With one hand he carefully detached it from the bowl and sunk back down on the mattress. He placed the bowl back onto the floor and stood up again to read the message that was scribbled on thin parchment. The ink read:\n\n''I, we, know you are innocent. Be patient. You'll be free soon.''\n\nHis heart started to pound faster, the blood rushed to his ears. What do they mean, innocent? They knew, he* knew. There was no denying. When his horse tripped over the tree root in full gallop he saw the men rushing from the bushes around them. A thick man with a large, red beard has drawn his sword and charged towards the boys. They looked around with fear in their eyes, but didn't see the man approach behind them. He stood, his sword drawn above their heads. The sword had swung down - he could still remember the swishing sound of the blade - until the boy froze. His face had turned into a mask of surprise and the blood flowed out of his face - but then darkness embraced the prisoner himself as something heavy hit him on the back of his head\n\nHe snapped out of his train of thought and stared at the bowl in front of him. The soup had cooled down and strained, chunks of potato and vegetables floating on the surface. No, he wasn't innocent, and he knew that. But even though he would pay for his crimes eventually, he knew what option he would choose. He could sit here, in his cell, or he could do it in temporary freedom, to complete the mission of his people: liberation. There was enough time to pay for his wrongdoings later.\n\nHe grabbed the rough wooden spoon that was stuck in the thick soup and started stirring with more energy than he felt in years. In the darkness of his cold, sober room, he sat with his back straightened against the wall, the corners of his mouth curled upwards. There was hope.\n\n\n", "The cell's bar made a dark shadow on the wall. Ironic that sunlight seemed to make the room even darker. Inside the cell a young man considered the scrap of paper in his hand. The last line read:\n\n'Hang tight Aki. I'll come tonight to save you. '\n\nSave him. Aki, the Butcher of Bratva. Why did they think he was innocent? \n\nHe still saw it.They had run from him in fear, as he cut of their heads. The knife had been painted red, as he caught them one by one, and chopped of their heads. The headless bodies still flapping around in fear. The police came after a few days looking. He had nothing to hide. His confession and blood soaked clothes all the proof they needed. \n\nThe dark part of the wall felt cold . Was the wall to blame for being so cold ,or the sun, who failed to warm it?\n\nHis calloused fingers ran across the wall until finally touching the heart of the darkness. An old rusted nail.\n\nThe smile seemed to light up the entire room.\n\n----------------------------------------------\n\n\"Aki. You there?\" \n\nJames tapped the bars silently as he strained his eyes. He couldn't make out anything in the dark cell. Despite his warm leather jacket, the cell made him shiver. With fear or cold he could not say.\n\nA movement. Someone came into view. Aki. His heart shook as he looked at the boy. The poor kid was barely 18, and a victim in all this. The officers in charge hadn't realized what they had done, and the DA was to worried about the embaressment to revoke the charges. It wasn't right, no matter how you look at it.\n\nAki came to the edge of the bars. \"Why did you call me innocent?\"\n\nHis eyes. They were so lost. What had this kid seen? Prison was not a good place for him. \"You being here. Its a mistake. You're not a killer. Not a killer of humans, anyway.\"\n\nHe bent down to open the lock. I hope Karen doesn't miss this key.\n\n\"But i killed them. I must pay.\"\n\nIt was hard to fit the key in the dark. \"Look.. ah! Damn key. Aki, I told you. The officers made a mistake. You didn't massacre those people at the mall. That man died in a drug bust 2 days later. When the officers came across you on patrol, they just assumeed you were the killer.\" A satisfying click. The hinges creaked as the metal door swung. \"Your confession was the clincher.\"\n\nThe boy came up to him. \"So... I am not a killer.\"\n\nHe patted his shoulders.\"No. What you killed were-\"\n\nSomething cold in his neck. Air refused to enter. He stumbled back, feeling his neck. Something sharp was stuck in it. \n\nAki was screaming \"I killed them. You cannot take that from me. I. Killed. Them. Me. Only I deserve to be rewarded. To be Here.\" An alarm started to run in the distance.\n\nHe felt backward against the wall. Falling to his feet, he tried to breath, to say the last few words. They barely came out.\n\n\"....you killed.... farm Hens....not humans....not a ....kill-\"\n\nNo air left. Darkness surrounding him. The kid was finally a killer. Now who was to blame for that. Aki or him?", "I tasted plastic in my mouth after only a few bites into my plain, ham and cheese sandwich. My nose curled involuntarily at the texture of it. \"Seriously.\" I muttered, the cooks were too lazy to unwrap their cheese now? \n\nReaching into my mouth I grasped the plastic and removed it. A casual flick, meant to send the offending object across the cell floor ended with it stuck to my fingers. I noticed the tiny letters as I looked towards it in annoyance. \n\nTwo days. 4am.\n\nThat was all it said, but it was enough. I had noticed the lingering eyes of one of the guard for months now. I was easily the most beautiful girl in this facility so her attraction was no surprise other than being unwelcome. So I had ignored her out of disgust tinged with a bit of hatred over her own somewhat stunning looks. \n\nAt least until a few weeks ago when she had whispered in my ear in passing. \"I know you're innocent, I'm getting you out.\" Amber said. Before knocking me to the floor and claiming I had reached for her gun. \n\nThey had left me stuck in my cell for weeks after that, barely allowing me to come out and shower. My luxurious blonde hair was suffering from the treatment. Then the note showed up. \n\nThe next two days passed in a blur. When Amber showed up outside my cell two days later, out of uniform, and right on time I couldn't hide my surprise. Thankfully the surprise outdid my sneer of envy over her looks. How dare she show up to rescue me looking like a supermodel while I was stuck in these rags? \n\n\"Let's go.\" She said, throwing my cell door opened. \n\nI frowned as I stepped out into the hall. \"Where's the getaway tunnel?\" I asked, confused. \n\n\"You watch too many movies.\" Amber responded with a small smile before grabbing my arm. She led me corridors I hadn't even seen before we wound up in the kitchen. As we passed through it I grabbed a steak knife from the counter before tucking it away. Never know when you may need a weapon. \n\nAmber spoke up again as we walked. \"I know you didn't kill those women Lydia. After watching you for these last several months I'm certain that's not something you're capable of.\" \n\nI stayed quite while she all but sang my praises, wondering if I was dreaming. Of course I had been a model prisoner, there was no one in the facility who threatened me. \"Until now anyway.\" I muttered, staring at her swishing dark hair. \n\n\"What was that?\"\n\n\"Oh nothing.\" I said sweetly. \"I think I'm in shock is all.\"\n\nAmber turned to deliver a breathtaking smile that was probably meant to reassure. As she turned back around I could feel my short nails biting into my palm and forced myself to relax. Just get out of here for now Lydia. \n\nWithin minutes the winding corridors ended and we were walking down a straight hallway towards a door with a softly glowing exit sign above it. \"Stop!\" I hissed urgently but Amber kept going, evading my grip as I reached out to grab her. \"We're going to set off an alarm.\"\n\nWordlessly she opened the door and right outside was open air and a somewhat foggy night sky. I stared dumbfounded up at the moon. I was really out of that place. In front of us was a generic SUV. \n\n\"Here.\" Amber said, pulling me from my daze and holding a set of keys which I quickly snatched from her. She walked in front of me and spread her arms. \"You're free Lydia.\"\n\n\"What about you?\" I asked hesitantly. She still stood facing out into the night. \n\n\"I'll make it out of this somehow. I'm a survivor.\" Amber said confidently and I felt a small smile form on my face. We were just alike in that regard. \n\nGrasping the knife still at my back I walked up behind her and ripped my blade through her throat. Easily going from ear to ear except where I hit bone around her windpipe. Nothing came out but a gurgle as she tried to speak but my imagination supplied her words. \n\n\"But....you were innocent.\" Imaginary Amber said as the real one fell to the floor grasping her throat. Her life quickly flowing from the wound. \n\n\"No.\" I answered the figment. \"I'm not. And I hate beautiful bitches.\" ", "Julia came running from the kitchen with a beer in hand and an eager kiss as soon as I walked through the door. \"How was your day, honey?\" Seeing her broad, always-eager smile every day after work was the only thing that made it all worth it. \n\n\"Fine,\" I answered, dropping my belt on the couch and sweeping her off her feet with a big hug. \"Everything is still on lockdown after the jailbreak.\" Julia knew all about it, of course: even if she hadn't been the wife of a guard, she would have seen it on the news. It was the first ever escape from the Lewiston Maximum Security facility, and the administration was determined to make it the last. Prisoners weren't even allowed to move until they figured out exactly how Daryl Meyers was able to get away. And the screams from the warden's office from prisoners being 'questioned' were starting to become unbearable.\n\n\"I'm sorry, baby,\" she told me. \"Does that mean you need to work another shift tonight?\"\n\nI nodded, and she looked crushed. She regretfully tried to hide the beer behind her back, knowing I wouldn't be able to have any if I was going back on duty tonight. It'd been doubles all week and I'd hardly had any time to spend at home. I wasn't complaining about the overtime pay, though. Having a child turned out to be a lot more expensive than we thought it would be, and that was before we learned about Sammy's condition. We loved her all the same, but that didn't make her treatment any less expensive. \n\n\"How long do you have off? Enough time for a good meal?\" I'd been smelling whatever she was making since I walked through the door, and my stomach was already rumbling in anticipation. \n\nI checked my watch. The ten minute commute home now took 45 minutes; I'd had to pass through two state police checkpoints who had gone through all the junk in my back seat to make sure that Meyers wasn't hiding in there. \"I've got about an hour,\" I answered. Hopefully traffic going back to the prison wouldn't be bad; no need to check any cars going that way. \n\n\"God, I hope they catch that guy soon,\" she called out as I slumped down into my easy chair. \"And I hope that they throw the book at him.\"\n\nI stayed silent. Julia didn't know about my part in this whole escapade, and I sure as hell wasn't going to tell her. How could I? There was no way to convince her that he was wrongly imprisoned. She couldn't meet him and just feel that same sincerity that I'd felt. Poor guy was practically trembling as I showed him to his cell. Prison would have chewed him up like a stick of gum. So I did what I had to do. And the less that Julia knew about it, the better. I'd heard a rumor that they already suspected a guard. They were looking for anyone that might have ties to his supposed cartel, which luckily wouldn't bring up my name. \n\n\"By the way,\" she called from the kitchen, \"You got a box in the mail. Did you order something online?\"\n\nI took a moment to think about it. After working so many hours and dealing with the constant stress of potentially being caught, my brain was just fried. Had I ordered something? \"Where is it?\" I asked her. \n\n\"On the bed. But I didn't want to open it in case it was... you know, a surprise.\" Our fifth anniversary was coming up in about two weeks, and I couldn't blame her for jumping to that conclusion. She'd probably be pretty disappointed when she learned that we probably couldn't even afford to go out to dinner, much less some expensive present. \n\nI managed to heave myself up from my chair and walked down the hall. After a quick pitstop to check on Sammy sleeping in her crib, I entered our room. The box was indeed pretty large. I certainly would have remembered ordering whatever this was. I cut through the tape with my keys and found a greeting card envelope on top.\n\n\"Tom,\" the note started, \"You'll never know how much I appreciate your faith in me. You're the only person who doesn't look at me and immediately despise me. You didn't let my reputation cloud your judgment, and it was honestly the only thing that kept me going these past few months.\"\n\nMy hands were shaking, and my eyes darted back down the hall to make sure Julia wasn't coming. How stupid was he? How could he send me a letter? I'd have to burn it, right after I finished reading it. \n\n\"Unfortunately, you were wrong. I am everything that they accuse me of being. And I accept that. I'm a bad person.\"\n\nMy stomach sank. I couldn't breath. \n\n\"But luckily for you, I'm also a pretty fair guy. One good turn deserves another. Go ahead and open the box before you turn this card over.\"\n\nThis was terrible. This was evidence. But I couldn't help but unwrap the present. It was a framed picture of some tropical island, which didn't make any sense.\n\n\"It's yours,\" the letter said. \"The island is called Isla Duvala, and there's a plane waiting at the airport for you and your family. I've assigned a doctor from my own personal staff to the island for Sammy, and the Castro government has assured me that extradition isn't even a possibility. You'll have everything you ever need, I promise. You gave me another chance at life, and it's only fair that I do the same for you.\"\n\nI sat back down on the bed, still clutching the letter in one hand and the picture frame in the other.\n\n\"Can I come in?\" Julia asked from the kitchen. She still thought it was an anniversary gift. She certainly deserved one, that's for sure. She deserved her own private island.\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered her. \"In fact, I need you to pack a bag. And one for Sammy, too.\"", "[Part I](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3wotwu/escape/)\n\n[Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3wp44v/escape_part_ii/)\n\n[Part III](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3wswo9/escape_part_iii/)\n\n[Part IV](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3wynuj/escape_part_iv/)\n\n[Part V](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3xjd2u/escape_part_v1/)\n\n[Part VI](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3xjd9q/escape_part_v2_part_vi/)\n\n[Part VII](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3xvaio/escape_part_vii/)\n\n[Part VIII](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3y36mp/escape_part_viii/)\n\n***\n\nI smiled for the first time in weeks as I unfolded the note slipped under the small loaf of bread, hidden by the napkin that came with my meal each day. I had an ally, it appeared, who thought me to be someone I was not. I rested my back against the cold, hard wall of the small cell, looking out the small, barred window of my prison. I was trapped here, many lengths above the water, the endless freedom of the ocean taunting me in my claustrophobic isolation. The walls of this castle that had always kept our enemies out now served only to keep me in, and I longed for the days when I stood the right-hand man of the rightful King before these traitors ripped the power and life from his grasp.\n\nI heard footsteps approaching and quickly tore the note to bits and released the shreds out the window. The voice at the door loudly demanded I return the wooden tray upon which my meal had been served, and then quietly asked if I had seen the note. I crawled to the door and spoke to the man through the narrow, rectangular hole in the door through which my meals were handed to me.\n\n\"When can we do it?\" I asked. I had been stuck in here for far too many moons, and had I not been mad before, this depressing cell would have surely driven me to madness.\n\nMy only solace for so long had been the rats, constantly scurrying around the cell, and we had developed a delicate treaty where they would not have their necks snapped if they did not disturb me. I spoke to them, and they spoke back, although the sounds came from my mouth and they were nowhere to be seen by then.\n\n\"Tonight,\" the young voice outside my door responded. He was so young, so easily influenced, more boy than man. I knew as soon as they had assigned him guard duty in the desolate corner of the castle, and he had ranted to me about his unhappiness at such a menial task, that my chance to escape was near. I was a master manipulator, and his conflicted morals and low self-worth made him an easy target, and a valuable ally for as long as I remained prisoner.\n\nI told him my story, or at least the one I had invented in the endless hours alone in the cell. I told him of a family torn away from me by the head of the guards who was bitter because of the beauty of my wife. I told him of the guards waking us up one night and razing my house to the ground and locking me in this dungeon and taking my wife from me, and he believed every word as I told him of a past and a present that was as real as the words the rats said. I convinced him that it was all a huge misunderstanding, that I was just a humble farmer falsely accused of being the most wanted man in the land.\n\n\"Three nights from now, you will be with your wife again,\" he told me, proud of his decision. I smiled to myself, knowing he couldn't see me through the door. There was no wife and this was not an unjust imprisonment by this false king. I was an enemy, through and through; the rightful King's right-hand man, pledged to kill each and every enemy. The most wanted man in the kingdom before my unfortunate capture. More of this king's men had died at my hands than this boy could possibly understand, but somewhere along the way, his anger at how unappreciated he was had made him accept my words as truth.\n\nHe slipped me a blunt club and spoke to me through the door. \"I will leave the door unlocked tonight after dinner. You need to disable the night guard. Do not kill him, please, for he is a friend.\" I smiled slyly and nodded even though he could not see me. He continued. \"I will be just past the guard post as the clock strikes midnight. Cough once the guard is out and the bell has rung twelve and I will come out to greet you. We will make our way to the docks, with me as your escort where you can board an outbound ship and someday return to your family a free man.\"\n\nI gave my consent to his plan and shifted the club from hand to hand. Just incapacitate the guard? We would see how that went. The plan was sound, but there was nothing for me at sea. The armies loyal to the rightful King were inland, away from the ocean and across the mountains and desert, isolated in the last loyal city. Going to sea would only put me amongst pirates and ruffians, loyal to none. I could easily handle myself at sea, but my plan was not to abandon this cause. \n\nAs promised, the young man left the door unlocked after dinner, and at the eleventh hour I started counting. As the strike of the twelfth hour approached, I slowly opened the door to my cell, the utter darkness concealing my movements. At the end of the hall, a dim flame made the shadows dance as the night guard struggled to stay awake through his shift. I made my way towards him, hidden by the shadows and darkness, until I was close enough to hear his breath. I wrapped my arm around his neck and crushed his windpipe, a gargled sound his last, and I snapped his neck cleanly, like so many other times. \n\nI quickly donned his armor and weapons, and as the bells rang for the twelfth hour, I coughed softly. My young friend made his way around the corner, oblivious to the danger until I ran him through with the night guard's sword and he crumpled to the ground, shocked. \n\n\"But... I was helping you...\" he managed to say, looking at me with pleading eyes, striving to understand why he had been double-crossed. I smiled at him and mercifully put him out of his pain. Dressed in the armor of my enemies, I made my way through the winding corridors of the castle, past countless guards who walked by me without a second glance. \n\nDeeper into the castle I walked, each turn and passage engraved into my mind. I had spent many years here with the rightful King before this king had overthrown him. Two men stood guard outside the doors to her chamber, which was more of a glorified prison cell at this point. I dispatched them with ease, the experience of a thousand kills making it seem routine, and I quietly knocked on the door. There was confusion in the face of the true King's daughter as she opened the door to find the two guards dead, but her eyes brightened as she recognized me beneath the helmet. I held a finger to my lips, warning her to stay quiet, and bowed my head.\n\n\"Get your things together, your Highness. We need to go. Now.\"\n\n[Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/3wnxr5/wp_one_day_you_find_a_note_in_your_breakfast_one/cxxwfhy)\n\n[Part III](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3wswo9/escape_part_iii/) is now up in /r/MatiWrites!\n\n\nPart [IV](https://www.reddit.com/r/MatiWrites/comments/3wynuj/escape_part_iv/) is available!\n\n***\n\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 14, 16, 23, 45, 203, 611 ]	[ "1450055586", "1450060484", "1450062129", "1450065462", "1450072335", "1450045943", "1450059269", "1450032189", "1450050736", "1450046665", "1450050979", "1450050366", "1450043167", "1450061109", "1450044839", "1450038127", "1450038542", "1450025724", "1450031746", "1450030740", "1450031808", "1450031275" ]
	[WP] When the Reaper comes to take a soul, someone else can volunteer in that persons place. Many celebrities, centuries old, have literal cult followings keeping them alive.	120	[ "I didnt work that day. It was raining, and it was even beginning to snow. I knew what the snow was, it was just hardened rain.", "\"I volunteer my life. Mine for his!\" \n\nThe air slowly filled with an odor of rotten eggs and smoke as the cloaked figure approached the center of the room, skeletal arm outstretched, pointing. Death turned it's head in the direction of the voice. \n\nIt was a small voice and sounded as if it were miles a way. The girl, who couldn't be more than 16 years old, shoved her way through the crowd. Tears brimming, her green eyes stared into the darkness of Death's hooded face, or rather, where a face should be. \n\nThe tall Reaper seemed to be taken aback by this girl who's courage stood tall over her small frame. Death knelt and placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, leaned in, almost as a father might to comfort a child. He seemed to whisper something into the girl's ear. \n\nThe actor waited for the moment to pass before speaking. \"You can't -- I won't allow this. Look, I've lived for centuries, and I've long accepted my own mortality. Please, don't do this.\" \n\nThe girl looked at Death once more before turning, \"Mr. Reeves. You are a beacon of light for many. While other celebrities use their fame to improve their own lives, you have done the opposite. You give, you help, you constantly look out for anyone but yourself.\" \n\nAnother voice rang out from the crowd, \"besides, the rules are clear. Once a volunteer steps forward, it's out of anyone else's hands.\" \n\nThe crowd was not large, Keanu knew he was dying, having visited the hospital just days prior, he knew the cancer would finally take him if he could just avoid people. He had a friend rent a car under their name, and drove across half of the United States to find a small place in Wyoming to spend his last few days undisturbed. \n\nThe first one had shown up and just pitched a tent in the yard. After that, every few days it seemed someone else would show up, never saying anything to the actor, just a wave from the yard should he peer out at them. If they respected him at all, he hoped they would understand and not interfere with death. \n\nKeanu approached death, mimicking the girl's words, \"I volunteer my life. The way I see it, she is now the one dying, so I volunteer to take her place.\" \n\nAs the skeletal hand touched his shoulder, Keanu stood there, looking into the hood, then, breaking the silence, said, \"okay, okay, can I have the afternoon at least?\" \n\nDeath turned, motioning for the two to pass. \n\nThe actor approached the girl, \"it's Isabel, right?\" \n\nThe girl nodded. \n\n\"What do you say, want to go skydiving?\" ", "\"Please Mr. Cruise allow me to do the honor,\" one of the cult members, dressed as the iconic character Maverick, emerged from the crowd.\n\n\"No I volunteer as sacrifice. I must ensure that Rain Main 5: A Special Education sees is way through production.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen, I appreciate the gesture, but I do think its my time,\" Tom turned towards the Reaper, \"Ready?\"\n\n\"Woah, woah, woah,\" the cult leader, wearing nothing but a white button down, shades, and some tidy whiteys interjected, \"We've been doing this for what, 150 years, and now it's time. What's the deal Mr. Cruise?\"\n\n\"You guys won't understand,\" Tom answered.\n\n\"With all due respect, Mr. Cruise, I think we deserve the truth.\"\n\n\"You want the truth,\" Tom raised his voice. \n\n\"Well yea I did just ask for it, if you wouldn't mind letting us in on what's going on, I think we've earned it.\"\n\n\"YOU,\" Tom was shouting now, \"guys make a good point. I mean you've been sacrificing yourselves for the past century so I can keep making movies so I guess it's only fair I tell you what's up.\"\n\n\"We're all ears.\"\n\n\"Alright so you guys know how I made Last Samurai 3: This Time it's Actually the Last One.\" The entire cult nodded their head in agreement. \"Well I told myself if I didn't win an oscar for it I would be done and ready to call it quits. It getting reviewed as 'the second worst movie of all time' slightly edging out Risky Business 69: Don't be fooled, this is Actually Porn was a clear sign that I have no business being on this Earth.\"\n\n\"But Tom, you can't go, not yet,\" a Stacee Jaxx look-a-like cried.\n\n\"You guys remember what I said at the end of Mission Impossible 27,\" the crowd smiled and in unison quoted, \"I know I said the 26 successful missions were impossible, but this time I mean it.\" With that Tom Cruise walked into the light.", "I have a friend. People tell me he's imaginary, but I don't think he is. I think I'm just the only one who can see him. \n\nHe comes by a lot, and every time he does, he stops by to see how I'm doing. I keep telling him I'm fine, but I don't think he believes me. \n\nEvery time he leaves, he takes someone with him, but on his way out, he never stops by. \n\nSometimes he sits and talks to me for a while. Like this time. We've been talking for a long time now, about nothing important. A new movie coming out, about what I had for lunch today. He asks me what I think about the Kardashians, and how people line up to die, so they don't have to. \n\nHe asks me what I think about people dying for their dog. I don't know what to say, really. And then it hits me. Today, he's here for me. \n\nWe've stopped talking now. For a while, at least. Eventually I tell him I'm ready. \n\nHe takes my hand, and I close my eyes. It doesn't hurt. He lets me watch for a little while. The Doctors and Nurses rushing in, trying their best. \n\nI'm not sad, I think. The afterlife is a nice place, and a lot of people I knew were already here. \n\nA few days later, I watch my funeral. Just to see Mom and Dad one last time, before leaving for good. \n\nMom doesn't leave for a while. She's really upset, saying she should've gone instead of me. Dad tells her no, it wouldn't have made a difference. I know he's right. I'm not mad at them. I'm not sad. The last few days have already been better than lying in a hospital bed all day. \n\nHere lies Evelyn King. Born 29th of October, 2351. Died 22nd of March 2360.\n\nI just wish Mom wouldn't be sad, because I don't think she needs to be. I'll see her soon, he tells me. \n\nNot that soon, I hope. He just smiles, as he always does. He takes my hand, and leads me away. I tell him I can't wait to have long hair again. Or any hair. \n\nHe laughs, and tells me he can't either. ", "The reaper raised his scythe above the sleeping corpse of 12 time academy award winner Oliver Acton. He looked left and right whispered 'Oliver Acton your time has come' and then brought the scythe down as a man yelled \"no\" and leapt over Acton's body. The scythe hit the man in the back and he died.\n\nActon woke up looked up at the reaper and raised both middle fingers \"Ride on this Grim\" he said\n\nThe reaper grunted and disappeared in a flash of smoke.\n\n…\n\n\"And stay out\" yelled the bouncer as he threw Hunter out into the street.\n\nHunter stood up and staggered back drunkenly.\n\n\"Who even has old west flapping doors anymore? Is this a bar or the entrance to my grandparents living room\" Hunter stood in the street for another moment \"A third cutting insult\" he said before staggering drunkenly down the road.\n\n\"Hi there\" said the grim reaper.\n\n\"Ah\" said Hunter as he jumped and landed on his ass \"Who are you?\"\n\n\"I'm the grim reaper\"\n\n\"Well maybe if you smiled more they wouldn't call you that. Ha-ha. Ahhhh\" said Hunter, falling back so he was lying on the grass by the sidewalk.\n\n\"Mos people are afraid when they see the reaper\" said the grim reaper\n\n\"The key is to hate your life\"\n\n\"Well then I guess you won't be happy to know that I'm not here for yours\"\n\n\"I might not be an english major but I don't think that's how you construct a sentence for clarity\"\n\n\"I am here for you though\"\n\nHunter sat up.\n\n\"In what capacity?\"\n\n…\n\nThey hovered above the skull and cross bones shaped island in a bone helicopter.\n\n\"Keep it steady\" said the reaper to the skeleton piloting the chopper then to Hunter \"So you know what you're doing here\"\n\n\"Yup\"\n\n\"Well, what are you waiting for?\"\n\n\"Are we not landing?\"\n\n\"Why bother?\" said the reaper as he kicked Hunter out of the chopper.\n\n\"Ahhhhhhh\" yelled Hunter, flailing his arms and legs as he plummeted to the beach.\n\nHe landed face down in the sand, uninjured but mad as shit. He lifted his face out of the sand groaning and saw two men wearing t-shirts with Oliver Acton's face on them. They looked at him, he looked at them and then they charged, pulling machetes from their belts.\n\n\"Shit\" said Hunter. He pulled the handgun the reaper had given him and fired a blast of green energy at the first man. His head exploded and he fell to the ground. Hunter shot the second man in the stomach. Blood and entrails burst out behind him but his momentum carried him to where Hunter was lying. He rolled out of the way as man and machete fell.\n\nHunter looked at the gun it was all spikes and lights. Video game chic.\n\n\"Shit\" said Hunter. He holstered it and pulled the rifle off his back.\n\n…\n\n\"...And we will fight them to the last\" yelled Oliver Acton to his followers.\n\n\"He's so good\" said a follower\n\n\"I know right\"\n\n\"Like read the phone book already\"\n\n\"Classifieds too\"\n\nTheir heads exploded as Hunter gunned down the followers.\n\n\"Well shit\" said Acton \"No no no wait\"\n\n\"For what?\" said Hunter as he shot him in the face.\n\n\"Well done\" said the reaper, clapping behind him.\n\n\"What the shit was with the chopper?\"\n\n\"You don't die until I say you do. I figured why waste the parachute?\"\n\n\"That kind of seems like the thing bring me in on…\"\n\n\"Ready for the next one?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nAnd they were in the chopper again." ]	[ 1, 1, 12, 19, 24 ]	[ "1450081744", "1450081756", "1450060343", "1450075896", "1450052705" ]
	[WP] A group of aliens kidnap a random human to evaluate whether we are ready to join the galactic community. The person they chose for this? Donald Trump.	46	[ "\"What the hell is this place?\" The earthling said looking around with its fur halfway atop its head. \"I demand to be released at once, or you will face the true power of the american government!\" The earthling droned on. \"Can we sedate him sir?\" Two said to One. \"No we need him to answer questions, to see if the earthlings are ready to move beyond their tiny planet.\" One said looking skeptically at the earthling. \n\n\"What is your name earthling?\" One asked the pitiful creature. \"I am Donald Trump!\" He said emphatically. \"The next president of the United States!\" Donald said. One looked to Two. \"A leader supposedly.\" One told Two. \"Write that down.\"\n\"I demand to be released immediately!\" Donald yelled. \"I'm starting to think that i'm on some sort of space ship.\" Donald said looking around. \"Hmmmm, not very smart are they?\" Two asked One. \"What gave it away?\" One asked Donald \"The big beam of light we used to pick you up or the two of us standing right here in front of you?\" They both looked at him with their big saucer eye's. \n\nDonald looked worried now. \"We are here to asses your entire planet for he galactic community.\" One said to Donald. \"Your not doing to well.\" One said. \"Well you couldn't have picked a better person for the job. I have single handily built an empire from scratch and worked my way up to presidential candidate in just a matter of years.\" Donald said. \"I plan to take my country to whole other limits. By building a The Great Wall of Donald^TM, and taking all these other countries down a peg or two.\" He said looking quite pleased with himself. \n\nOne started to speak when two handed him the finished research download to check Donald's facts. \"I don't know Mr.Trump, there are some humans on here that think you have brought the entire species of humans back five hundred years.\" One said skeptically. \"My goodness one man even said it wouldn't be a bad idea to sterilize you and your entire family.\" One gasped. \"Explain yourself sir.\" \n\n\"You better watch out how you talk to me.\" Donald said.\"I have enough money to build my own spaceship that I can use to destroy you!\" \n\n\"OK i have heard enough, we picked you randomly out of seven billion people.\" One declared. \"The chances there are more like you are off the charts.\" He turned to Two and remarked. \"They aren't ready. Probe him, erase his mind, then return him to earth. He can't remember any of this.\" \n\nDonald screamed \"PROBE?! what do you mean . . . \" Donald was soon flipped around by machines and strapped face down on the table he was sitting on just moments before. He never remembered anything that happened on the ship or the brief talk he had with the Aliens. Dooming our species to another thousand years of the silence of space. \n\n ", "\"Amazing,\" the lead researcher utters as he cuts the audiofeed from the test subject's chamber. Behind a group of scientist from different species murmurs, groans and/or screeches in agreement.\n\nBehind the one-way glass a muted specimen of Homo Sapiens Sapiens rages on. Its wide gesticulations contrasted by the immobility of his hair.\n\n\"Gentlebeings and -hasbeens,\" the lead researcher adresses the crowd, taking particular care - as social protocol dictates - to include the researchers from the zombie and ghost planets as well, \"While we only observed shortly I'm fairly certain this specimen provided us with all the data we need to reach our conclusion. The species from which this specimen originates is not only wise but also patient beyond measure if they can stand all this blabbering without carpet bombing this individual's coordinates. I say Homo Sapiens Sapiens possess the necessary qualities to navigate the ever changing social protocols of the galactic community. All in favour?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAs the researchers redacted a formal letter of invitation to the galactic community (a complex process that involved posting trial messages on Tumblr, Imgur usersub and Tindr) a hyperintelligent shade of blue flazoned over to the one-way glass and pondered \"This one may be a good candidate to run against Zaphod Beeblebrox.\"\n\n\n\n____________________\n\n\nIt's been a while since I last hit my keyboard in such a way to produce an intelligible story. If you enjoyed it, feel free to browse /r/TheUmpteenthMonkey/ for more" ]	[ 3, 26 ]	[ "1450169153", "1450165340" ]
	[WP] Someone has been writing extremely helpful messages on your bathroom mirror in blood.	260	[ "The first message arrived a little over a month ago. \n\nI had stumbled groggily into the bathroom at 3am, head pounding after a night of drinking at a friend's birthday party. My hands scrabbled desperately at the cupboards above the sink before I stopped short. \n\n\"Top cupboard, bottom right shelf\" read a message on the mirror, scrawled in menacing crimson. In the air lingered the unmistakeable iron-rich stench of human blood. \n\nThe handwriting was undoubtedly my own. \n\nI frowned momentarily as my over-vexed brain struggled to comprehend what lay before me. The mass of grey matter sputtered in a vain attempt to work before it fizzled and gave out. I shrugged and reached instinctually at the listed cupboard and shelf. There, perched expectantly at the very edge of the shelf, sat a bottle of aspirin. I poured out what was probably way too many pills, swallowed them in a gulp of water, and trod uncertainly back to bed like a reeling, one legged ballerina. \n\nThe next day I woke up with leaden limbs and a woollen head, the memories of last night receding like a half remembered dream. Following instructions written in blood on the mirror? I clearly needed to lay off the vodka. \n\nBlearily blinking away the cobwebs of sleep, I stepped gingerly into the bathroom for my morning routine. \n\nI blinked once, wiping my palm across my eyes. I blinked again. \n\nThere it was, in angry red streaks across the mirror. \"Pay credit card bill by the 26th\" The grisly reminder undulated in twisty, tortured lines across the silvered surface, as if whoever - or whatever - had given its blood to write the message had done so amidst great agony and suffering. \n \nI took an involuntary step back and glanced down slowly at my watch. It was indeed the 26th, and my brain, speaking as if from a vast distance away, weakly reminded me that I did indeed have to pay my credit card bills by the end of the day. \n\nAt first I thought it some sort of elaborate prank by my friends, but a few angry and panicked phone calls failed to yield anything other than genuine puzzlement as a reply. A quick pat-down of my own body confirmed that I had no cuts or injuries, and a frantic search of my wardrobe and drawers revealed no suspicious diaries owned by a \"Tom M. Riddle\". For better or worse, I had no bloody idea where the messages were from. \n\nOver time, an uneasy peace fell between me and my mysterious bloodthirsty automatic reminder system. I mean, what could I do? Call the police? They would probably lock me up in some mental hospital for my own safety. At the same time, I had to admit that the messages were quite useful in their own way. I no longer worried about forgetting friends' birthdays and missing appointments. My bills were paid on time for once, and any important tasks I had to do were invariably spelt out neatly in solemn red every morning. I was living quite a comfortable, albeit strange, life. \n\nAll that, until one day, I awoke to see a new message carved into my bathroom mirror. The message was short, but splatters of deep crimson spilled clumsily across the edges of the mirror, as if the whole thing were written in a great hurry. \n\n\"RUN\"\n", "This is my first story that I'm posting. I know it's probably not that good. Let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is appreciated!\n\n---\n\nWhen I heard my alarm, I hoped that I still had a couple more minutes to sleep. Sadly when I looked at my phone, I saw that it was already 11. I knew I had to get up. I'm having lunch with Kelli at 12. I groaned as I got out of my bed. I'm still too tired to open my eyes. Thankfully, the shower woke me up. \n\nWhen I looked at the mirror, there was writing on it. In blood! I was so scared that I nearly jumped out of my skin! \n\nIt read: Go to a different restaurant. The other one will give you and Kelli food poisoning.\n\nWho would do this? Who would write a message in blood? Why is this happening? This message couldn’t possibly be real… Kelli texted me last night asking if I wanted to get lunch. No one else could have known! But I wouldn’t want to get food poisoning… If there's a message written in blood, I should probably listen to it. Shouldn’t I? \n\nThis poses another problem. I have to choose another restaurant but I don’t know which one to go to. I grabbed my phone to look up some other restaurants. When I looked up at the mirror again, there was a new message! \n\nTry that new bar down the street.\n\nI must be dreaming. That’s the only way that this makes sense… \n\nI called Kelli and told her to meet me at the new bar down the street. She wanted to try the new restaurant so I had to convince her otherwise. But I'm not going to ignore messages written in blood! \n\nAfter lunch, we went back to my apartment to hang out. After about an hour she got up, \"I gotta go to the bathroom.\" I shot out of my chair, \"Wait!\" She looked at me like I was crazy, \"What's wrong?\" I tried to play it off, \"Umm… I think I left my clothes in there. I showered before I left.\" Kelli's and I have been friends for too long for a lie like that to work. She laughed, \"You never leave anything like that lying around.\" She knows me too well. \n\nShe continued to the bathroom. She got there before I could. But when I looked at the mirror, the blood was gone. I definitely didn’t clean it up. I realized that I must look ridiculous. I scratched the back of my head and muttered, \"Sorry…\" I went back to the couch. Kelli laughed as she closed the door. Yup. I'm definitely going insane.\n\nWhen she got back, she was still laughing, \"Are you sure you're ok?\" I grinned sheepishly, \"Yeah. Sorry about that.\" I couldn’t say anything about this. I mean I wouldn’t believe it if anyone told me.\n\nA little bit later Kelli was looking at her phone. She looked up at me, \"Good thing you said we shouldn’t go to that restaurant. Apparently a bunch of people got food poisoning.\" My eyes widened. Was the writing in blood… Helpful?! \n\nI removed the shock from my face and smiled, \"See I told you! And the bar was really good!\" \n\nA couple of hours later Kelli went back to her apartment. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth when I saw another message.\n\nYou're not going crazy.\n\nI laughed. Harder than I had in a long time. \"Who are you?\" The old message faded away and a new appeared. \n\nA friend. I'm here to help. Don’t worry, I've got your back.\n\nWell this is going to be very interesting… \n", "Every morning. Every single morning, just one simple message to make my day better.\n\nThe first time freaked me the hell out. You don't expect to shave, go down to wash your razor, then peer back up into the mirror and see it drenched in blood. I dropped the damn razor and yet out a yelp, eyes fixated on the blood oozing before me, forming into a word.\n\nNECK.\n\nWhat the hell?! I mean, you see blood on the mirror, and you're thinking something like Redrum is going to appear, but thyroid. I tentatively press my finger against the mirror, and yep, that was blood, now some of it on my finger.\n\n\"You OK honey, I heard you scream,\" my wife said to me, slight worry in her voice. I almost shot outta my skin again. She'd come up quietly, and I'd been preoccupied by the blood on the mirror, that it spooked me to no end. I turned to face her, a mumble of an explanation on my lips before turning back to the mirror to point out the blood when...\n\nNothing. The mirror was now clean. Not a speck of anything red on the mirror, just a small splodge on the end of my finger. My wife eyes the blood on the end of my finger, and tells me to man up, calling me out for crying over a little cut of the razor. I grunt in assent, I ain't telling her what I saw, I don't wanna make her think I'm crazy.\n\nNow in all the stories where the inexplicable happens, you see the protagonist shake it off, assume nothing has happened. And in horror movies, you always want to scream at them, telling them not to ignore what is so obvious a sign. This never ends well, and I'm hella superstitious man.\n\nSo I decided to go see the doc. I go to tell him about what I saw that morning, when that portentous word NECK suddenly comes to the forefront of my mind. Don't ask me why, but it suddenly clanged, like a sonorous bell, and before I could think, I told the doctor about this lump on my neck. And sure as day, he gets me checked out, and finds out I have thyroid cancer, but that's it totally treatable. Cos we caught early.\n\nThe next morning, the next message appears. That message is FLOWERS. And that very day, walking home from work, I change my route without a moment's thought, pick up my wife's favourite flowers, and hand them to her the moment the door opens. She breaks down in tears, she tells me she's so worried for me. And we talk. We talk like we never had before, any barrier we had falling down, and we connect like we never had before. And that's when I realised those messages on my mirror were a message from God.\n\nThe messages continued. Every single day. Blessing upon blessing. A lot of the time, I never knew how the message would apply to me, but I damn well paid attention to it. And when the moment was right, I always knew exactly what I had to do. One time it told me to BRAKE, and it saved me from being blindsided by an SUV at an intersection. Another time it told me to GIVE, and I donate to this homeless guy, and 6 months later I bump into him in the street, looking a new man, clean shaven and wearing a suit. He buys me lunch, tells me what I did changed his life, and now he has a life. It ain't perfect, he tells me, but it's a gift from on high compared to where he was.\n\nAnd then one day it says ROPE.\n\nNow I don't know what it meant, I rarely do, but I knew that I'd know when it was right that day, as I did every day. I put my faith in this mirror, so I go about my day as usual, the word gestating in the back of my mind as it always does. And as it was warm that day, I grab a few brews after work. I do it every couple of weeks or so, just me, a couple of cold ones, and my thoughts. I get in my car, and start the drive home. OK you shouldn't drive drunk, but I do this all the time, and I'd only had a few.\n\nThough today the beer hit me a bit harder than normal. I find my driving a little erratic. OK, that ain't great, it's only a couple of blocks.\n\nI hit a little girl.\n\nI was just a hundred yards from my house. Just a hundred. And she ain't moving.\n\nShe ain't moving.\n\nI've seen her play in the streets so many times.\n\nAnd she ain't moving.\n\nHer head is all at angles, her chest ain't rising and falling like it should.\n\nWhy didn't the words stop me. Where the hell was my blessing.\n\nROPE.\n\nThe words burn in my head. I can almost see that mirror, right int front of my eyes.\n\nAnd I know exactly what to do.\n\nCos you don't come back from this.\n\nI got me some rope at home. She ain't gonna move again. And I won't either. And that's the final blessing I'll get.", "\"Run :)\". Although I had finally become accustomed to the sight of the deep red blood that appeared on my mirror every day, this particular message still startled me. I checked my watch, which said 6:15 am, the same time I check the mirror every day so that Claire doesn't see the message. I stared at the letters, dripping, almost throbbing, as though fresher than usual. Nonetheless, when I checked my watch again and it struck 6:16 am, the letters faded away, like they always did.\n\nWhen I saw the first message, it was very simple. \"Check the mail.\" I was horrified, but it after the message disappeared without a trace, I figured I may as well listen to it; it was actually enough to get me up to check my mailbox, which I hadn't done in a few weeks. At the time, I was for lack of a better word, a bum. I lived in a shitty little apartment on the street in Downtown Kansas City that my parents always told me to avoid. My acting career wasn't really playing out the way I had hoped, and I did not in fact, hit my big break by the time I was 21. \n\nI had told myself that I didn't want all the money and fame at that young of an age anyhow, after seeing how it had corrupted the young celebrities who were just a bit older than me at the time, but I suppose I was wrong, because when I found the check in the midst of several advertisements and bills, written in red and signed by a \"John Smith\", I immediately cashed it without a second thought. \n\nI'm sure that everyone would tell you not to cash a check you didn't expect, especially when you receive it in the mail. But not everyone was a starving 24 year old living in a moldy and partially flooded apartment without working heating and wearing the same ripped jeans and torn flannel shirt to every audition he managed to sneak into. I won't give you any exact numbers, but it was a pretty big check, especially for me at the time. \n\nI thought about using it to surprise my landlady and actually pay rent on time this month, but instead I informed the kindly old Mrs. Connors that I wouldn't be living in this apartment any longer, and promptly packed the very little amount of things I had and moved to a loft near the Plaza that day. The place was huge, and came with furniture that was like something out of a magazine. And the bed was so soft. I was suddenly cured of insomnia and back pain. The next day I woke up and went to brush my teeth, and lo and behold, there was another message. This one almost as simple as the day before. \n\n\"Buy a suit. Walk.\" \n\nI immediately showered and threw on my newly washed ripped up hipster attire, and then walked out my door. I turned right, thinking I was headed toward a Macy's, but then along the way, a small hanging wooden sign caught my eye: \"Claire's Tailoring\". I stepped inside hesitantly, and then I saw Claire. I don't think I believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in seeing a woman who is everything that I have ever thought was beautiful. \n\nAuburn hair, a complexion that is not too fair but not too tan to make me ashamed of my own pale skin. Bright blue eyes that matched the cornflower blue tie she was hanging up on a rack. She was tall and lithe, not lanky like me, but sporting a lean and toned frame. She wore a denim shirt underneath a maroon speckled sweater and dark blue jeans with those wedge things that you always see hipster girls wearing. I managed to trip over a coat rack while I was staring at her face, but I couldn't help it; she was the kind of beautiful that was bright, kind, pleasant, rather than the fierce beauty you see in supermodels. \n\nI tried with no avail to look like I was not a completely incompetent klutz, and did barely catch the coat rack before it hit the ground, I could still hear her giggling behind me, a sound like a child's light tapping of piano keys on the far right of the instrument. I spun around and said something uncharacteristically smooth, so uncharacteristic that I don't recall what it was. She giggled again, with me this time instead of at me, and then asked if she could fit me for a suit. We bantered while she measured me, and I tried not to blush as she took my inseam. She was smart, witty, and a perfect combination of sassy and kind. I knew at some point I had to ask her on a date, because the pain and regret of not doing so would certainly outweigh any damage to my ego, which was already pretty small due to the whole \"being a bum\" thing. I had made sure to wait until after she had put the suit on me, a simple navy blue that I'd like to think made me look at least decent. We made plans for dinner the next evening and exchanged numbers. \n\nAlong the way, the messages never lost their simplicity. Things like \"buy flowers\" on the day of a date with Claire to keep her happy, or \"bet on red\" at a casino to get some extra money in my pocket. One morning when I read \"Move. New York. Take Claire.\", I was a bit hesitant, but when I called Claire and presented her with the idea it was like she wanted to move to the Big Apple from the beginning, even though she had always talked about staying in Kansas forever. As we were driving away from my loft, I saw an explosion bloom from my building, and leading to a massive fire and an almost instantaneous collapse of the building. Everyone inside was killed. A message on my mirror had saved my life. Then, the first morning I awoke in New York, a message telling me to \"get coffee\" ended up with me somehow landing the lead role of an action movie. I bumped into the director and spilled coffee on him, and as I was apologizing he cut me off and said I was \"perfect for the role.\"\n\nAfter that, well, you could read about it in the papers. I was everywhere. I got a personal trainer who whipped me into incredible shape, I married Claire, who is now pregnant with our first child, I got calls from directing giants to ask if I would play a role in their movie, and got a nice little slew of awards. Hell, I could walk down to Times Square right now and see my face at on at least 11 different screens. \n\nBut in all the years of reading so many messages on my mirror, never had I seen an emoticon. Why now? Why a happy face? And juxtaposed with such confusing command. Run? Where? Go for a run? Then it hit me, as I was walking back to bed. A week ago, a message had appeared. It was ridiculous. \"Leave Claire.\" I would never leave the woman of my dreams, let alone when she is carrying my child. I realized my mistake as soon as I got back to my bed. Claire was lying there making no sound as always; I couldn't even hear her breathing. I began to go into hysterics as I checked her for a pulse and felt nothing. Tears rolled down my face and I began to sob, but I was cut off by an echoing voice so deep and gravelly that I don't see how a human could be responsible for it.\n\n\"It's okay to cry, it's always sad when someone does not follow your directions.\"", "Tim groaned as he sat up. Half asleep he stumbled into the bathroom. He was half way through washing his hands when he looked up and saw the message written in blood on his mirror.\n\n\"Ahh\" he yelled as he jumped back.\n\nHe read it from the ground. It said \"Lower your cholesterol\"\n\n\"Hmmm\" he said\n\n…\n\nTim read the message before doing anything else. It had taken a couple of weeks but right around the time he started to make a killing in the stock market he made it a priority.\n\n\"Before getting into an argument, think about if it's really worth it, or if you're just going to get angry over nothing\"\n\nThose words were in Tim's head that night, leading to the first day in weeks that he hadn't fought with his girlfriend.\n\n…\n\nTim got out of bed.\n\n\"Where are you going\"\n\n\"Forgot to read the message, just go back to sleep\"\n\nThe words 'do you' were written in blood on the mirror. It was a message that had been showing up a lot lately. Underneath was written 'if you're not going to read these I could just stop'\n\nTim sighed.\n\n…\n\n\"Hey buddy\" he said to the giant of a man in the corner of his basement. The man turned his mask and jacket were covered in blood.\n\n\"Urrr\" said the man\n\n\"Hey I appreciate the messages, I do. You know I mean you didn't have to move with us but you did that was nice. When I asked you to keep it to our bathroom so the kids didn't see it you did. It's nothing on your side it's just…life is hectic with the kids and work and... I mean my wife and I haven't…the point is I will try to read the messages\"\n\n\"Urrr\"\n\n\"First thing, as often as I can\"\n\n\"Urrr\"\n\n\"Yeah bring it in big guy\"\n\n…\n\nTim walked into the bathroom and laughed.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\nHe pointed at the message written in blood.\n\n\"Might I suggest a weekend away\" it said\n\n\"You told him?\"\n\n\"We were having a hear to heart\"\n\n\"Our lives are really weird\"\n\n\"They are\"", "…and the sentient sponge was left to its own devices, twirling, twirling, twirling towards freedom.\n\n\nChapter 23: The Urban Legend of the Helpful Hemoglobin\n\n\nThere is a common trope about the wasteful and over-indulgent nature of the upper middle-class always defaulting to replacement rather than repair. A ripped pair of pants only in need of a simple sewing are often thrown to the trash bin, replaced by an even more expensive and superfluous pair. But by far the most common representation of this indulgent practice is the sock in a black hole mythology. Often portrayed in a jovial manner, the penchant for a single sock to go missing, isn’t seen as a cause for concern but as an expected occurrence. Now my research on the topic of planned obsolescence in sock manufacturing took me to the far reaches of the globe, but roughly 88% of all socks manufactured don’t simply disintegrate into thin air. And those 12% that do have never even been sold in American stores. So unless these families are purchasing their socks through back channel factories in rural China, they haven’t lost a single sock much less to a black hole. I won’t even get into the year I lost to researching astrophysics to ensure this claim.\n\nNow here we have the most important point in the matter. This mythology is a simple representation of the true nature of wasteful laziness most commonplace in families whose total household income is in the six figures. With each $10,000 in household income up to $100,000 the percentage of allowed waste increases by ten percent [(see figure 1)]( http://imgur.com/UY0axCA). And I’m not even counting food into this figure. By perpetuating this common occurrence, that to lose a left sock is an inevitability, leads to a generational understanding that this type of behavior is not just dealt with but justifiable by irrational means. Now the sock in a black hole mythology brings us to the meat of the story, how a myth is perverted into an urban legend. While there are several definitions for urban legend, I will posit my own: a mythology that was once rooted in a sociological dilemma, stripped of its cultural significance and re-explained through pure fable. And it is my argument that urban legends further reduce the seriousness of the mythologies they are based in, creating a situation where academic discourse is not only lost but discouraged. This brings us to the urban legend of the helpful hemoglobin.\n\nThe urban legend goes something like this, though it has been recounted in several fashions, as most oral histories do. But the important part is that the thematic nature remains the same. So one day a man is taking a shower, the room steams up and when he steps out, in the fog is a message, “Don’t forget to floss”, curious but undeterred, assuming the playfulness of his wife, he wipes it clean doesn’t give it a second glance. The next morning the message in the mirror is the same but a bit more direct, “Steve, don’t forget to floss.” A little perturbed by his wife’s seeming passive aggression he brings it up during breakfast, his wife denying the accusation acting a little coy. Now we get to the third day, obviously the steam messages not being enough he now sees a message written in red lipstick, “C’mon Steve, plaque is the invisible killer, don’t forget to floss.” Now his curiousness turned to flat out rage, his wife’s denials making it harder and harder to even remain in the same house. Finally on the fourth day after waking up from a fitful night on the couch he takes a shower, walks out to see an even more pointed message in a red liquid, “I warned you Steve, approximately 30% of people over the age of 50 have some sort of gum disease. While plaque is the silent killer, an infection in your gums will make you scream. Now for the love of god, hopefully you won’t forget to floss!” His wife’s body drained of its being strewn outside the bathroom door to his horror.\n\nNow to most people this may seem like a silly horror story. The kind of thing you’d tell at a campout or to friends at a party. And for the most part it is, but at its core it’s a story about the banality of middle class life, of making the Maslovian scale seem like a medieval instrument. And deep down within that struggle is a layer of comfort that’s impossible to truly grasp until you finally struggle to maintain the status quo. The socks are the true representation of waste, waste that comes from a sense of comfort. That your life is in such an expected order that allowing them to exist in the metaphysical plane is a result that doesn’t make sense, but isn’t worth a second thought. But within the urban legend of the helpful hemoglobin is this idea that something simple, like flossing, is helpful but not something that is important enough to truly consider more than once. And upon being forced to consider this dull occurrence over and over again, taken out of his expected comfort, he is so enraged he kills his own wife. But in the retelling of the legend the idea is simple buffoonery. To tell a hackneyed story. And lost within it is this resoundingly common institutional story of how increasing wealth leads to a certain sense of indefinite security, something you are bound to lose if you keep looking past it.\n\n\nChapter 24: The Allegory of the Flesh Eating Trilobite\n\n...\n", "Sunday, December 13th, 2015.\n\nI don’t know where to begin. Strange things have been happening in my apartment. It’s hard to explain, and I kind of hope no one ever reads this, because I don’t need to be locked up in a hospital.\n\nSo, I woke up this morning and look out my window, the sky is dark slate gray like the clouds have united together to prevent the sun from even shining again. It’s been a warm winter, but I felt this unnatural chill. I also saw something…do you ever get the feeling someone is there, or the absence of someone? Like an empty shadow in the corner of your eye? That’s the best way to explain it. I sat on my normally comfortable, but now oddly stiff bed and turned to the right quickly, but the thing was gone.\n\nOkay, whatever. Now my cat was acting weird too. She’s hissing and has her back arched, and got really hostile towards a random piece of air. Great. \nOf course this would all happen the week after I lost my job, and I’m getting kicked out of my place in a month if I don’t find something. Why would anything go right?\n\nI finally got up and made some weak tea but was too unnerved and off kilter to drink it, and it went cold. Finally, and this is where it gets weird—I walked into the bathroom to wash up and maybe try to face the day. \n\nAs I’m washing my face, no joke, this shimmery red stuff starts to form inside the mirror—it’s blood. I froze without processing what happened, and then it started to form words:\n&nbsp;\n\n“Everything is going to be okay. Hang in there.”\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWow. Yeah I know, I’m crazy, right? But I know this was no hallucination. And I’m definitely not going to mention this to a soul. This is nuts. Just like me. And my cat. I decided to get out and go to a coffee shop and pretend none of this happened.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nMonday, December 14th, 2015.\n\nWaiting to wake up from this dream, but it continues. My apartment didn’t have the same creepy vibe today, so I thought things were cool at first, and was going to simply not talk about yesterday to anyone ever as a way of coping with it.\nI was wrong. I’m sitting there trying to do some research on the company I’m interviewing with a couple hours later, and as usual my anxiety and people-pleasing is kicking in; desperately wanting to get this job and make them like me, while simultaneously resenting the company and scorning myself for needing to impress them.\n\nRight, so I walked into the bathroom again to fix my hair and makeup, and the blood appears again:\n\n&nbsp;\n\n“Be who you are, because those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.”\n\n&nbsp;\n\nUm. Wow. I was speechless for a couple moments, but then found myself involuntarily thanking…it. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n“Um…thank you?” I said weakly. A pause, then in blood in my mirror: \n\n&nbsp;\n\n“No worries.”\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI don’t know what to think. If this is a demon it’s the weirdest one I’ve ever heard of. I have to sit down. Bye for now.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nTuesday December 15th, 2015.\n\nWell, I got the job, and I started today. I didn’t expect anything to make sense or go well since the “friend” in the mirror started visiting me, but I feel a lot better knowing I have a place to stay. Also, yesterday nothing weird happened with the mirror, so I hoped this was all a product of an imagination snapping from stress, and was done.\n\nI want to report one last story though today, for posterity, since I still have no idea what this thing really is and I doubt I’ll ever speak this story aloud.\n\nI had my typical anxieties about getting the job right, and I could tell there would be a fast learning curve. My new boss gave me a lot of reading to do and information to enter into our database. I was trying to grasp some of the terminology and dense subject matter and I realized I had no idea where to find some of the documents that were uploaded somewhere, and I didn’t want to ask for help. \n\nI decided to go wash my hands and take a breather, and went to the ladies’ room. As I was washing my hands in the empty bathroom, I saw the familiar dark liquid shimmering from within the wide mirror covering the wall, and it began to form letters, spelling out:\n\n&nbsp;\n\n“The files are in the computer.”\n&nbsp;\n\nYeah, no joke. Well, I’m glad this thing has a sense of humor, kind of. More updates to follow if this keeps going, for now, goodnight.\n" ]	[ 3, 4, 10, 12, 14, 25, 101 ]	[ "1450214250", "1450221709", "1450213634", "1450212816", "1450211268", "1450213159", "1450207481" ]
Title lol	[WP] Teenager is about to shoot up the school but then drops his books, girl helps him pick them up which makes him not shoot up the school, but instead becomes obsessed with the girl	0	[ "Disclaimer : English isn't my native and I'm mainly writing in an effort to improve it. If you decide to continue reading I would appreciate pointing out any grammar mistakes you might encounter.\n\n---\n\nThey say that most people aren't capable of murder. I was always fascinated by that fact, whenever I hear about ex-soldiers suffering from PTSD I wonder how does it feel to be in others' shoes. You see, I never had any desire to interact with people, I wasn't your typical socially awkward wannabe famous shooter. I was fascinated by death since I was a child. Whenever I hid in my backyard playing with stray cats the metallic scent of blood excited me, every time I opened up a living being I would get a high that can never be replicated which led to my ever growing creativity. But sadly every good thing has an end and I'm getting bored, so bored, I'm 17 now and I can say that I experienced everything I wanted to experience in life.\n\nLast week I decided to end it all, to experience the ultimate death .. my own. But of course I wont let that opportunity go to waste without a final high. I snuck into my father's room and I lockpicked his drawer like I've done a thousand times whenever I needed some Xanax, this time however I was there for something else, I put my hand into the drawer and fumbled around in the dark careful not to wake him up til I felt the metallic texture of his Desert Eagle in my palm and a chill ran down my spine. I realized that even though I killed lots of things I never touched a gun in my life, I'm more of a knife person, I don't think you can even feel the kill with a gun. A knife on the other hand can be manipulated to be as slow or fast as you want it to be, you can even lick the blood afterwards which kinda gets disgusting - and a bit crazy - when the blood is pouring from a bullet hole. I slipped the gun under my belt with a loaded extra magazine in my pocket and took my breakfast for school, a peanut butter sandwich.\n\nWhat I planned for that day was something that I didn't experience yet, probably the only thing that I didn't experience. Killing a human being while he begs for his life. My brother was so young to speak let alone beg, and I had to use bleach not to get caught by my parents, but those people... those are old enough to beg and young enough to cry while doing it. Perfect age. It was a normal school day til recess, I sat alone in the corner with the weird kids, Samantha the Gothic girl on my left and that fat kid I can never remember his name in front of me. I started day dreaming about the upcoming event, making a mental map of who to start with and who to leave for last, not bothering to make escape routes obviously. I had enough bullets for 14 kids given that I get enough time to replace the magazine. well, 13 actually since one bullet should be saved for me.\n\nThe bells rang and I went for recess, I had decided to do it just before the last lesson of the day, It would be math and the handicapped teacher will be so easy to overpower and he usually has the keys to the class which will make it easier to lock it and buy myself couple more minutes. I was going to recess when it all changed, all of the plans were for nothing when I first hit her... Samantha the Gothic girl.. my gun fell from my belt and slammed with a thunk that echoed through the whole almost empty corridor and I thought it was all over as it slid under the lockers.. our eyes met for a split second and while I was planning a route to the bathroom while assessing if I can overpower her and knock her unconscious she spoke without losing a breath and in a very hushed but enthusiastic voice.\n\n\"You too?\" while proceeding to flash me a dirty Glock 26 hidden in her hallowed chemistry book.\n", "I'm tired and I haven't written anything in literally years so please excuse how poor of an attempt this probably will be.\n\n\nFake. Blurred faces passed me, none of which I remembered nor cared about. The promise of the thrill, of the fame pumped through my veins. Some people want to be rock stars or models, some people want to change humanity but all I want is to be noticed, remembered. No one around me knows me, student nor teacher a like. That was going to change. \nFor 4 weeks I have been practising, honing my skills with the trigger. Before then I had never thought about taking another persons life, I was never against it but it didn't seem to hold any real importance to me. The bell rang to indicate it was 9:30, Students would soon drip out of the hallway into their next lesson leaving me enough time to retreat to my car parked in the student car park and retrieve my equipment. My Glock and M4OA1 awaited my return. \n\nI picked up pace as I made my way through the halls trying to escape before a teacher noticed me leaving. As I threw myself around a corner I crashed into someone dropping my copy of \"Choke\" by Chuck Palahniuk onto the floor along with a flurry of papers and text books. As I bent down to pick my belongings back up my eyes were greeted by two blue eyes deep with colour on a pale oval face. Her light ash brown hair coiled down her slim neck resting softly on her shoulders. As she opened her mouth to speak I noticed a endearing slight gap in her lower teeth.\n\n\"Are you OK?\" She asked. Guns melted from my mind with all thought along with them. My stomach churned inside me. \n\"I must get to class\" I replied. Hurrying again but this time faster, not towards the car park but Biology room 203. The promise of the girl, Of the love pumped through my veins." ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1450327957", "1450332593" ]
	[WP] You were stranded for five years on a remote planet. Describe your life after the rescue.	6	[ "At the beginning of space age, at a time where space didn't mattered so much, a survivor would have received an opulence of attention ; flashes of camera would have blinded the poor lad while an escort of well dressed policemen would have pushed away the buzzing journalists feeding on fancy information like bees fuzz over pollen. I remember a name, Salvador Alvarenga, which floated for 14 months on the pacific...\n\nBut times changed, as objectives did. \n\nNow, most planets aren't habitable. The ancients imagined other words as with the same gravity, the same atmosphere, the same colors, the same feelings than our blue planet. They imagined tales of strange alien forms and wondrous adventures in weird looking landscapes. They imagined tentacle like trees and purples valleys. But they were naive. Space and overearth worlds are counterintuitive. They don't obey the the laws of obviousness and instinct. Man didn't evolved to live in such places. To merely, let alone survive on those planets, they must obey to the boring and hard rules of scientific knowledge and mathematic conundrums. \n\nNow, space travel isn't like they imagined. There is no gigantic ship floating in space, but neither \"wormholes\" folding space from one part to another. To explain it shortly and in a very deformed way ; with rules and references a man of your time wouldn't comprehend ; it is like if an astronaut was bungee jumping through a point of space to another, kept being in this other space for a limited and predictable amount of time, then immediately, clutched by the forces of necessity, got pulled back with violence to its initial position. And more the point was far, more the coming back was violent and sudden. Somehow, we managed to flirt with the laws of physics, seduce the impossible ; but the slightest error was like a slap to the humanity cheeks.\n\nI did such a trip. As for this time, no astronaut can stay where it jumps. It is physically impossible. \n\nBut I stayed. \n\nThe violent slap got me as expected. But I remember that when I wake up, I was alone in the \"billard ball\" as we called it. The billard ball is like a crystal ball, a transparent teardrop made of one piece, letting the light go through while treating it as to be earth-like when it comes to the inside ; as for an eye lens. The right temperature, radiations and light comes through it ; but outside of it was like hell. An ill world of milky whites and yellows, seeping sulfur by what looked like the skin of a sad aztec riddled with smallpox. The skies weren't visible, because it was dense with a mucus like humidity, that sticked to everything it touched ; it swarmed like bugs, but no bugs could sustain themselves in such a place. Days by days the corrosive forces tried to nibble the skin away of the structure, but it proudly stood over the squishy soil of matter under it. \n\nThe billard ball made all the work for me. Now perhaps you believe that to survive in such a world, you have to work hard. But what brought me to madness, along with the solitude, was the lack of work. I was sustained by a gigantic womb of hope ; hope to feel grabbed again by an invisible hand to the base of operations. But it didn't happened. And the world outside the bubble was still a gigantic boiling petri dish.\n\nThe billard engineered an ecosystem by itself, creating DNA from the amino-acids it extracted from the rich soils of the world thanks to its root like appendices. While the outside was crushing under its own weigh ; Milk, as we called it, being four times more massive than Earth ; I thrived under earth like conditions. Soon it started to create its own germs, algae and spores. Plants started to grow ; thick and twisted like seeds of pain, seeking for a light that wasn't. One adopted the shape of a chair, another of a sofa, another delivered food to my mouth. Soon I didn't walked anymore ; the ecosystem around me designed itself to serve my comfort, to make me weightless and lazy despite my mass of fat engulfing the appendices that supported me. A tube of twigs and roots was taking my wastes away, that contributed to the world we ; me and Billiard, created. Soon animals started to evolve ; little birds like things with long arms crawled under the brown litter sprawling the bubble, foraging for edibles. It would take one of them sometime and gobble it... \n\nSoon my eyes and ears started to get dizzy. The air was damper and damper, more and more hot ; the light reddened and become softer ; a humming sound ceaselessly flooded my senses. I would die in comfort, becoming part of this new planet in the planet, my conscience disintegrated in the flux of things...\n\nThen I saw the tubes. The jellyfish like tubes that entered in my skin, in my fat. That slowly swallowed my fat and my flesh away with little gurgling sounds, with moving shapes of slurping matter. I couldn't move, and I surely couldn't take them away. Not only because I didn't had the energy and was too massive to do so, but because they weren't inside of me anymore ; they were part of me now. And I screamed inside, but there was no scream to be heard ; the scream lasted three years. \n\nThen I sensed a big force pulling me out ; and I encountered a face. \n\nI don't remember much what happened. They took me, tried to take me over, to extract me from the womb. To \"rescue\" me as I faintly heard. But they didn't understood that I was part of it now. I was its heart. I heard how they tried to burn the structure, to rip it off with their great mechanical arms ; but we retaliated and soon there were only ashes of the white-coated strangers. The tentacles grasped themselves to the walls, the pipes, the foundation like hooks of life and energy... it leaked through the laboratory and licked the rest of the city like flames of slime. And without seeing anything I knew everything. I sensed the expansion, the ecosystem that grew and grew, more life we proudly created together with more and more matter to be added to our planet.\n\nI don't know how much times passed or passes now. I just know that I'm part of her now, and that I continue to expand. Did we took over the city now ? The country ? The whole earth ? I ignore it. My life after the rescue is hers and my conscience starts to fade away, as I talk to a crowd of those quaint and youthful people of the distant XXIth century for some reason, on a comfy rocking chair in a beautifully lit garden. \n\nEdit : a few words", "Each morning I awake in a bed too soft wrapped in sheets too warm. The comfort claws at the back of my well rested eyes. I lay awake for a span, staring blankly at an equally blank ceiling, and prepare myself for a day of meaningless words orbiting meaningless actions culminating in meaningless outcomes. In this era in which all is provided for, food, shelter, companionship, I want for nothing. So badly, for nothing.\n\nThere is nothing more for me to learn here. In man's search for meaning, I have already emerged victorious, though at the time I was unaware of my triumph. On Tau Ceti e, amid alien flora and hostile planetscapes, I discovered man's true purpose in the universe.\n\nTo survive. \n\nNo amount of philosophical pondering or academic pandering ever got me closer to enlightenment. No, it was the absence of thought in the face of unspeakable desperation that freed me from suffering. Reason gave way to instinct, doubt fell to reflex, and discontent blossomed into cold, iron determination. Surrounded by life that had flourished in inhospitable conditions for millions of years, I pitted my will to survive against their own. \n\nFor five years I won. For five years I awoke not in a bed but on the unforgiving ground and stared not into a blank ceiling but into the infinite sky studded with callous stars that blinked out their morse code, \"You are alive. Today, you are still alive\". \n\nCan you say the same?", "I stood there at the supermarket, plastic green basket in tow to my side. My eyes stared confusedly at the cheese section of the open freezers at the back of the store.\n\nThere's so many different... brands. Why are there so many?\n\nHaving stood there for at least 6 minutes simply gazing into the different colors and slices of cheese, I decided to go with what I first pondered on; the brand that appeared to be the most generic. Generic... as if it's at all generic. I'm fairly lucky to be getting cheese at all, damn the world if I'll spend a penny more to something less generic. Thoughts of these sort plagued me as I made my way through the market for the second time after arriving back from Pluto.\n\nAfter having made my way to the checkout, I neatly sorted the contents of my small plastic green basket upon the smooth rubber of the conveyor. The civilian ahead of me in line glanced over at my ordered little civilization of foods confusedly while the cashier rang in his bubblegum and assortment of canned goods. What's his problem? I wondered to myself, not grasping his obvious confusion. Shortly thereafter though, the gentleman had moved on from the store to continue his life; probably to go home and see his family, cook a meal perhaps and enjoy the continuance of practical life. It had been a very, very long time since I'd enjoyed a 'practical life'. Very suddenly, my mind began to flash rapidly through memories of the frigid cold—my fingers solidifying and becoming encased with ice as Pluto rotated me into its dark side. My tears freezing upon my cheeks—\"Sir? Sir, your total is $16.57.\"\n\nMy conscious snapped back the present, confused as the man who had looked upon my nation of foods, now gone and bagged to be easily transported away. I handed the cashier a twenty, and I saw her face forget the compassion it had held only moments before, replaced by an odd-looking smile I couldn't recognize as happy. As she placed the twenty in the register, I inquired to her, \"Why is your smile so empty?\"\n\nShe had stopped momentarily to glance up at me, her eyes a wash of confusion—there was a lot of that, I'd begun to remember—\"What do you mean?\"\n\nThis question itself was hard to answer. I didn't know I thought she was sad, though I presumed shortly after it was most definitely the empty smile. Instead of answering, I took a $1000 bill out of my pocket and laid it on the conveyor. Confusion left behind, her eyes made wide ovals and her face stretched away from it's center in what I thought to be surprise. \"Have a nice day, and thank you.\" I said, wanting to leave before she began to question the origins of this money. Which she certainly would do, no question. Often times people dressed in wrinkled clothes and with hair to match the most of insane of individuals did not have thousands to spare. I did, though. The money was nearly endless; apparently the public did not like the idea of someone being stranded on the farthest celestial body in their solar system for 5 years. That of course prompted the government to have me well taken care of, which I was.\n\nI left the market through the doors that opened and closed by themselves in a seamless side-ward movement, made my way across the parking lot to my small red car, and drove to my home. Knowing in the back of my head that next week, I would do this all again.", "17/12/3015 - One more year 'til home!\n\nWe take so much for granted.\n\nMost mornings I sit and drink my morning coffee on the bench beside the nature display in Central Plaza, see folk bustling about en-route to work - on their PDAs or lost in deep conversation with their headsets - and they haven't two shits to give about the miraculous tech and unlimited knowledge they have at their fingertips. They don't think twice about the droids preparing and delivering their meals, maintaining their diet, and cleaning their quarters. They treat it like normality and expect nothing less. When the net goes down, signal blocked by an asteroid or passing Trade Fleet, they rant and rage. There's uproar. To watch, at least it's a little amusing. Gives me a good chuckle, but leaves me thinking they need to mellow out. Relax. They should just sit back a bit, take a little look at themselves, reflect on their self-aggrandising lifestyles. That's all they need, doesn't take five years floating through space on a crummy little rock to set you straight. Although, I suppose it does give you plenty of time to think and reflect.\n\nIt's like each day is a constant reminder of my five years stranded on Ursadoian, the deserted slave planet, eight leagues and twelve years from Earth. I've grown used to hunting and preparing my own food, keeping my own quarters (previously: cave) clean, and keeping myself free from technology. The whole, I don't know, dependency that this ship's crew have on their tech and their droids is a little sickening. I just hope its not the same when I get home. Hope people are a little more, y'know, down to Earth, capable of holding a conversation and chillaxing. Suppose I'll have to wait and see.\n\nPeace, Diary, catch you later!\n\nJohnny Spaced." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2 ]	[ "1450375637", "1450387837", "1450392456", "1450382746" ]
	[WP] A ghost receives a formal eviction notice, giving it thirty days' to vacate the residence. To its shock -- since the holy water, priests, etc had never worked -- the eviction notice seems to be binding.	8	[ "It wafted to see the city's best legal minds,\nIn the hope they could somehow a loop-hole find,\n\nAfter their screams and shrieks calmed down, they agreed,\nTo look at the ghoul's binding legal deed. \n\nAfter every contractual clause was carefully read,\nThey shook their heads sadly, and to the spook said:\n\n'I'm afraid that they couldn't have made this thing tighter,\nYou see, it seems their lawyers used a ghost writer!'", "A Haunting Notice:\n\nHi, AskDeaddit I just got an Eviction Notice with 30 Days to figure something out...help?\n\n\tsubmitted by 30spooky2me 8 hours ago <gold>\n\n\tlotsa comments share\n\n\n\tA throwaway for obvious reasons (don’t want anyone to find where I remain). This thing is spooky. It’s spookier than any exorcist or Native American ritual, because it’s actually effective. The notice said it was invoking some spirit squatter laws that apply to us (the post is part PSA).\n\n\n\nEdit: [Pic] (specgur.net)\n\n\nEdit 2: Pic (I got all the PMs about the bad formatting now. SORRY, orz.)\n\n\nEdit 3: Thanks for the gold /u/PerfectlyParanoidPoltergeist. I’m happy some people found this a helpful warning.\n\n\nEdit 4: Thanks for all the advice. I think the top comment chain is the best right now. I hope this situation ends \n\nwell, because I don’t want to be stuck on the streets.\n\n\n\nTop 200 comments show more\n\n\n\nsorted by: best\n\n\n-\n\n\nWarDjinni 8124 points 5 hours ago <gold> \nLawyer up.\n\n\n\tCasper 5953 points 5 hours ago\n\tAre you that guy from the -\nyou know what. Not this time. That was a great response, because what OP really needs to do is get a good \n\nlawyer. Whatever new law this is goes against our inhuman rights and we need to float up against it. Thanks for \n\ngiving him real talk.\n\n\n\tWarDjinni 9000 points 4 hours ago\n\tಠ‿ಠ\n\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nOP_Pls 3789 points 7 hours ago * \nOP Pls deliver a pic of the Eviction Notice.\n\nEdit: OP Delivered! :D\n\n\n\tUsername_Checker_Outer 1861 points 7 hours ago\n\tYour username...it’s valid.\n\n\n\t\tSecretlyAZombie 1288 points 7 hours ago <gold>\n\t\tOP will surely deliver.\n\n\n▒▒▒░░░░░░░░░░▄▐░░░░\n\n\n▒░░░░░░▄▄▄░░▄██▄░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░▐▀█▀▌░░░░▀█▄░\n\n\n░░░░░░▐█▄█▌░░░░░░▀█▄\n\n\n░░░░░░░▀▄▀░░░▄▄▄▄▄▀▀\n\n\n░░░░░▄▄▄██▀▀▀▀░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░█▀▄▄▄█░▀▀░░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░▌░▄▄▄▐▌▀▀▀░░░░░\n\n\n░▄░▐░░░▄▄░█░▀▀░░░░░\n\n\n░▀█▌░░░▄░▀█▀░▀░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░░▄▄▐▌▄▄░░░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░░▀███▀█░▄░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░▐▌▀▄▀▄▀▐▄░░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░▐▀░░░░░░▐▌░░\n\n\n░░░░░░░█░░░░░░░░█░░\n\n\n░░░░░░▐▌░░░░░░░░░█░ \n\n\nWe just have to wait.\n\n\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nBoredRevenant 824 points 8 hours ago \nWho gave the notice?\n\n\n\t30spooky2me [S] 932 points 8 hours ago\n\tThe landlord of the apartment complex where my haunted apartment is.\n\n\n\t\tGhostGoneWildFan 724 points 8 hours ago\n\t\tIf all else fails haunt them instead. Plan P for Payback. ;)\n\n\n\t\t\tTrollingPhantom 689 points 8 hours ago\n\t\t\tThis.\n\n\t\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nSpiritedBogey 543 points 6 hours ago \nSquirt your ectoplasm on them to assert dominance.\n\n\n\tBanging_Banshee 345 points 6 hours ago\n\t11/10 with ectoplasm.\n\n\n\t\tAchievement_Kermode_Bot 311 points 6 hours ago\n\t\tThis is your top comment /u/Banging_Banshee, so you get this. Hope you enjoy.\n\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\nWraith_Lord -121 points 3 hours ago \nEveryone on Deaddit’s alive except for you.\n\n\n\tHooman 242 points 3 hours ago\n\tBad usage of that.\n\tP.S. Maybe not everyone’s dead. :)\n\n\n\t\tSpecter007 80 points 2 hours ago\n\t\t/r/totallynothumans\n\t\tcontinue this thread ->\n\n\n\ndig up more comments\n\n\n-------\n\n\nDecided to go with this format to have some fun. Hope you guys enjoyed it and thanks for reading! It was a pain in the arse to format, but sadly that doesn't shine through on Reddit. Only on Google :(.\n\nEdit: Had to edit this to look Readable on Reddit. Haha...ha. Now that was the real annoyance.\n\nEdit 2: There's a real paranoid poltergeist, so changed the name.", " I did not know what to do. I had not left the estate for the last 20 years since my binding. When I had died of mad cow disease a Wiccan guy used me as practice in a spell to bind me into the library of the estate. The seal had since worn off 17 years ago, but I had not left the estate still due to uncomfortableness. \n\n Now the new owners left me this notice & to my annoyance have started sealing off rooms with some \"home made\" magic. Now I could only float around in the main hall and since its the 30th this place would be sealed off by noon. I put my hand to my brow.\n\n I thought about putting every single thing in this space upside down again, hide keys, combs and phones left out, but I'd be no less at ease as I was now. I turned a family photo upside down, went to the closet and unhooked my ghost coat and hat and floated outside to the curb. \n\n I sat down at the side walk's edge. A long lifeless moment passed.\n\n Now what? \n\n I could go to a graveyard, a morgue, bother psychics. I spotted a young looking man in a corvette across the street. I floated over and sat in the back of the car just as another young man got in and kissed the first. \n\n The gay couple chatted like birds about a fair and started the engine, within 20 minutes they found a parking space and I watched them go off into the crowd as I floated to a lane of food booths. I picked up ghost cotton candy from the trash. I found a ghost roller coaster that had broken and taken down a decade ago and had myself a ride. I began to smile and think this whole afterlife-style change could be alright. \n\n I amused myself with the next 2 hours riding living rides and making the rigged game booths players win until two booths had to close or else they'd go into debt with winners. Then I spotted a magician on stage performing in front of a tough crowed. Whenever he did a trick I levitated a chair behind him. The crowed Awwed and Whoaed and the magician began to perform with more flair. Soon his tricks became more interesting then a floating chair and when he did his final stunt -coughing up deer out of his mouth- even I was amazed and I messed with the stage lights to make a bazilian sparks fly making it look like the most epic thing ever seen. The crowd stood up and gave a roaring applause as the magician bowed giving off vibes of ecstatic pride. Little kids ran up to him for autographs and more people came to ask for photos with him. My work here was done. \n\n I saw the gay couple leaving and followed them for no particular reason. They seemed really happy. One asked the other to buy them ice cream while he tied both of his shoes. When both their backs were turned I saw the 1st one pull something out of his pocket. He opened a small black box revealing a ring. \n\n I gasped and put my hands to my mouth. The 1st one checked over his shoulder before he slipped it back into his pocket and proceeded to really tie his shoes. \n I had to see this. \n\n The 2nd came back with both their ice cream and they chirped about how astonishing the show was while they began walking towards the park. They gaily held hands swinging to and fro as their conversation turned over to other wonderful times they have had and flirtations. \n\n The park was filled with wild flowers, patches of pavement, and golden light reflecting off the olive green whispering trees.\n\n\"This place is vary beautiful, but looks like it hasn't always been a park.\"\n\n\"This used to all be a family's vacation home estate, but while they were not using it a airplane crashed into it. Everyone survived but the house was completely smashed to bits. After it was cleared away the family decided to donate the land and now its this lovely park.\"\n\n I stopped. I turned to the hill in the middle and saw it. \n\n The ghost house. \n\n The gay couple ambled on wards without me and I hovered up to the ghost house. It was glorious. \n\n My hand reached for the door on its own. Inside was the most beautiful ghost interior I had ever seen. Ghost art hung on the walls, the ghost furniture was all there, it was themed french country. My knees felt week but I explored all the ghost rooms and found everything in the house that I could have wanted. Everything had been annihilated. Their was even a ghost radio which I turned on & listened to, it had dead radio stations of my lifetime. I held my hand to my heart and took of my ghost hat and put it on a ghost hook. I found my new home. \n\nThe End. \n", "\"Well, who's it from? What does it say?\"\n\n\"But there's the thing, Father. I haven't opened it yet. I thought I should wait.\"\n\nFather Nicolas turned the possibilities over in his head as he made his way to the Donnell residence. Seamus Malley had been dead for three hundred years. So then what? A mistaken address? Or name? Seamus likely hadn't even been his name when he was alive. Father Nicolas chewed the inside of his mouth anxiously. What did it mean?\n\nHe knocked on the door and poor old Sam Donnell opened it, eyes wide open and as white as a sheet.\n\n\"I've left it on the table, Father.\"\n\n\"Bless you, child,\" said the priest, and he crossed himself as he strode into the house.\n\n\"Seamus?\" he shouted. \"Seamus, where are you?\"\n\n\"Father,\" said Donnell, wincing at the priest's volume.\n\n\"Yes, I know but it's just the once Mr Donnell. I can't be going all about the house looking for him now, can I? This is a matter of urgency.\"\n\n\"Father Nicolas?\" said a small voice behind him. The all but translucent outline of a teenage boy stood there, clutching a farmer's rake in hand. Donnell couldn't see the boy. Heck, most anyone couldn't, but Father Nicolas had spent so long with the ghost that he was as easy to see as a cloud on a cold day. It wasn't clear whether that was to do with his eyes adjusting, or the boy letting him see, or something altogether different.\n\n\"There you are, Seamus. I, well... This is strange, I know. We think some mail has arrived for you.\"\n\n\"Mail?\"\n\n\"A letter, you see?\" Father Nicolas motioned towards the small white envelope on the table. \"Like someone's talking to you, but with writing. I thought I'd call you so I could read it to you.\"\n\nIt wasn't easy to remember which mundane things Seamus was familiar with, and which he wasn't. He wasn't literate, in any case. Father Nicolas motioned towards the table, and the ghost floated over towards the letter with him.\n\nFather Nicolas picked up the letter carefully. It was addressed as Donnell said: Mr Seamus Malley. How strange. He started to peel open the envelope carefully.\n\n\"And just when did this arrive, Mr Donnell?\"\n\n\"Oh I couldn't say, Father. This morning perhaps? Though it's possible I missed it yesterday. It was sitting on its own, all unnatural.\"\n\nFather Nicolas furrowed his brow. Inside the envelope was a folded sheet of yellow paper with a few lines of typed writing on it. No, not typed. Surprisingly, it was handwritten, but with such excellent penmanship it looked like a type-written script. He scanned over it quickly.\n\n\"This is...\"\n\n\"What is it, Father?\" said Donnell nervously. The ghost was silent, but Father Nicolas could feel his undulating presence next to him.\n\n\"It's a notice of eviction. It's telling you to move out of the house, Seamus. To move on.\"\n\nThe boy looked at him, wide eyed, then at the letter, then back to him again.\n\n\"As for where this is from, I have no idea. The signature is this symbol I can't make out for the life of me.\"\n\nFather Nicolas paused for a moment, then wheeled around on Donnell full of anger.\n\n\"Now tell me truthfully, Mr Donnell, who else but you and your brother knows that Seamus haunts this house.\"\n\n\"Father, you're scaring me.\"\n\n\"Answer me, Donnell.\"\n\n\"Well there was Sarah. But, you know, she passed already. And then Harry, like you said already. I think no-one else though Father. Why? What is it?\"\n\nFather Nicolas took a deep breath and closed his eyes.\n\n\"It's okay Mr Donnell. I'm sorry I lost my temper.\" He clutched the paper tightly in his hand. The boy was looking at it scared.\n\n\"This piece of paper, this symbol has more power than all the holy water, consecrated bread and wine I've seen in my life. I can feel it thrum from the page. But it is not a Christian symbol. It is something else.\"\n\nFather Nicolas turned to face the ghost child.\n\n\"But I think, Seamus, my child, that if you take it, you will be able to do as it says and move on.\"\n\nThere was silence for a moment. Seamus had haunted the Donnell house for centuries. Father Nicolas was the first person who had spoken to him, calmed him from his rages, and seen past the ghost to the person beneath, before. Father Nicolas saw the last question light up in his eyes.\n\n\"If you're ready, child, then do it. It says you can wait, or you can do it now. Lord knows you've been waiting long enough.\"\n\nThe ghost reached out with his free hand to touch the paper, and as he did his form started to disintegrate into tiny points of light which winked out one by one. The last thing Father Nicolas saw of him was the smile that flit across his face as he shed his last tie to the earth. A rare smile, that one. A precious one.\n\nThe yellow letter fell apart in his hands.\n\n\"Say nothing of this to anyone, Mr Donnell. You understand?\"\n\n\"But Father, I -\"\n\n\"Nothing. I've done as I was asked. Your ghost is not just calmed but gone. I must go.\"\n\nFather Nicolas swept towards the door with a final sign of the cross.\n\n\"Where are you going? You seem troubled, Father?\"\n\n\"I'm quite all right, Mr Donnell. But I have some... studying to do. I may be gone quite some time.\"\n\nAll that was left in the house was a blank white envelope, and pieces of yellow paper, with not an ink mark to be seen." ]	[ 2, 3, 3, 4 ]	[ "1450512163", "1450507500", "1450519244", "1450503091" ]
	[WP] When someone is born God writes in a notebook details of every day of their life till their death.Now you're 18 years old and accidentally find your notebook.	25	[ "You'd be surprised the weird things you find when looking through old books. Everything from very old and very kinky porn that makes you look twice at your grandparents, to random grocery notes where someone no doubt forgot to pick up the milk. So, when I found the notebook, I figured it was little more than just the ravings of a madman. If that says something about my family, so be it.\n\nTo be honest, I just poked through it a bit, reading a few notes about my birth, and how I grew up. Probably something that my mom or dad wrote. Though when I started seeing in rather graphic detail about the time when I accidentally shat the bed... well, needless to say I wasn't amused. Were my parents alive, at that point, I'd have smacked them upside the head and asked \"Really?\" It was only after I found pages written after their death that things really started to make the hairs on my neck stand on end.\n\nThere was the note about my first love, about every decision I made, and why I had made it. Were it not for the age of the notebook, I would have just passed it off as some stalker. Someone watching my every move, and yet... Well there were things in there that no one knew. Such as why I left my ex. Why I moved halfway across the country. Why I had never actually published my book. No, this notebook, for better or worse, was about me. As though someone had known every move I would make, long before I made it.\n\nWell, almost every move. The book itself wasn't what you'd consider scary. If anything the day to day stuff was pretty mundane. That is, until I neared the end. The last entry was marked September 5, 2015. I remembered that day. It was the day I missed being run down in a cross walk. The notebook detailed everything, from what I was wearing, the car that narrowly missed me, and most of all, the thoughts going through my head as I saw those lights bearing down on me. I'm ashamed to say that thought wasn't some grand thought about my past life, nor about what my future held. It was simply \"Well, this is gonna hurt.\" The book had everything right, save for one detail. The car didn't hit me.", "I turned the page and found that I had reached today; it was my 18th birthday. The story was a sad one. \n\tI began reading the strange notebook with a combination of curiosity and nostalgia. My memories played tricks on me. I winced with each turned page. A few stray tears found their home on the saddest of pages. \n\tAt the start, the notebook gave a page back for each that I read. Then, more pages fell for each page that I turned. The notebook shrank.\n\tI turned the page and found that I had reached today; it was my 18th birthday. I ripped it out and decided it was the end of my story.\n", "Finding the notebook wasn't actually that shocking. I'd always known my life was written out for me.\n\nFirst, I'd been born. I wasn't consulted on it, because I think I might have raised some objections. But a date was set in the obstetrician's calendar, my mother got an I.V. full of oxytocin, and I popped out, right on schedule.\n\nThen there were the media enrichment learning programs. The painstakingly coordinated baby outfits, and supervised playdates.\n\nPreschool, kindergarten, primary, middle, and high school. I had to draw up spreadsheets to keep track of the dizzying spiral of extracurriculars. Soccer and piano, college prep and SAT cram schools. Breathlessly, I ran from place to place, harried by alarms and school bells, buzzers and whistles, chased by red pens and swirling application deadlines. I wasn't happy, but I was told that it was important for my future.\n\nI had my first stomach ulcer when I was 16. Sitting in my AP statistics class, as the instructor hammered away at the multiple regression problem set, and I sat there, chest tight, and feeling like I was underwater- I coughed, and tasted pennies. I went to the bathroom, and threw up what looked like coffee grounds, but I knew it was blood...\n\nI wiped my mouth with shaking hands wrapped in TP, and flushed it down.\n\nI went back to class.\n\n...\n\nThere was this one course that I didn't understand. I had an English teacher, with a bun shot through with gray hair, who made no effort to hide that she only seemed to own the one brown sweater, and handed out assignments with wide, sweeping arms like a ballerina, or a dancing crane... She'd tell us to have fun, to just write what we wanted, to express ourselves, and as I sat there gripping the sides of my desk, the only thing I wanted to express to her was the utter impossibility of what she asking of me.\n\nPlease! I wanted to scream, Can't you just tell me the right answer?! I felt something like hate, too. Everyone always says that, that you have a choice, that there is no 'one right path', but as soon as they're done saying it, they start judging. The edge of disapproval, the strings attached, \"Is that really what you want to do?\" they'd say with concerned voices, and internally, I would reply. Well, no. Not now, that you've made it clear that there really was a right choice all along...\n\nAnd then, graduation. I'd had a college lined up, of course. A decent scholarship, a student loan that I might pay off before I turned 40, a program track, and a diploma. My life.\n\nAnd then, the accident. I was so tired, I didn't notice the conflict between my academic advisor appointment, and the TA hours for my pre-accounting-track class, until moments before. They were on opposite sides of campus. \n\nNot knowing what else to do, I flipped a quarter. It turned in the air, clattered on the hardwood, then managed to wedge itself between two boards on the third bounce, on its own thin edge. I stared at it in disbelief.\n\nThere was a sudden curse directly over my head. I looked up, into the astonished face of a rosy-cheeked cherub, clad in floating white robes, and holding a plain notebook, like the kind I took notes in every day. He cursed loudly again, and flew backwards in alarm. Directly into my ceiling fan.\n\nIt went about as well as someone with long, easily-twisted garments flying into a naked fan can go.\n\nHe was flung out like a stone from a sling, and hit the wall face-on. \n\n...Hard.\n\nFor a few seconds, he staggered like a drunk sailor, then, shaking himself out of it, he shot me a look that was half-embarrassment, half-scorn. He threw his stubby arms skyward, and disappeared into a cloud of golden sparks and the distant strains of a harp.\n\nI stood there.\n\nAfter I was sure I was not about to suffer a stroke, I fumbled blindly for my chair. It wasn't the first time I'd had stress-based hallucinations, but this...\n\nI looked over. It was subtle, but there was a shallow dent where the angelic toddler whacked into it... \n\nAnd there was a notebook on the floor.\n\nIt had my name on it...\n\n...\n\nIt looked like a regular notebook, but I had leafed through at least a thousand pages, and yet, I was only about a fourth of the way through. I flipped, up to the red ribbon which I presumed marked the present. It was all there, penned in a pleasant looping hand. \n\nI fingered the red satin nervously, biting my lip. This was the moment I'd been dreading. Did I dare... turn the page? The current one ended right as it described me reaching this point, and having to make the decision, with not hint as to the ultimate resolution.\n\nSlowly, my resolution grew. I'd been living my life according to a set path, to give me the greatest possible future. I'd sacrificed and sweated, I'd done everything the way I was told...\n\nI deserved to know if it paid off.\n\nI flipped several pages ahead, and started reading. Another graduation. My parents were proud. Then grad school. Marriage happened at some point, I supposed, because now here comes mention of a wife, and kids... A house. A job, and then another job. Grandkids, and then memories of what came before.\n\nI felt a chilly inkling in the pit of my stomach, as I started to notice a pattern. I flipped carefully, read closely, but as I did, it only grew clearer. I felt something snap inside, and my face was hot, red as a beet... The tears started a second later, accompanied by horrible, wrenching sobs that seemed to bubble up from the stygian depths of my very soul...\n\nAll of these things. Spouse, children, job, car and home. Money in the bank, a roof over my head, and everyone proud of me...\n\nAnd in not one of these pages upon pages of my future, was I said to be happy. \n\nI despaired. And I curled up around the book like the unborn, hid my face in my hands, and cried until I fell into the dreamless sleep of the dead.\n\n...\n\nI was awake. Sore, stiff, my every joints ached... And the book was still there.\n\nIt wasn't a dream, then.\n\nNumbly, I sat upright, staring dumbly into the egg crates upon egg crates of schoolwork that I'd carefully filed away. I looked at it, and wondered, who had I done it all for? \n\nNot me, that was for sure. And even though I did everything right...\n\n I tilted my head to the side. \n\nWaitaminute... had I? How did I define 'right'? If I had, how could I be so miserable now, and miserable, then? Did that make sense? Were there really only the right and wrong ways?\n\nI stared. In front of me was a different notebook, the tattered spiral-bound from AP English, of she of the brown sweater, with a chewed-on #2 pencil still rammed down the wire coil.\n\nI reached out... then stopped. My future wife... was she going to be happy? Or my yet-to-be children? Could I really turn my back on them, even if they didn't even exist yet?\n\nOr, came a small quiet voice, one I hadn't listened to for a long time- \n\n...You could try not living for the happiness of others for once.\n\n...I made up my mind. I snatched out the pencil, then furiously rubbed out the looping script. It resisted at first, then relented against my furious onslaught.\nThe air was thick with pink bits of rubber. \n\nAnd then, I began scribbling, in my own hand. \n\nIt was messy. Smudged in places, nearly illegible in others, and as my face cracked into a tremendous grin, some lines were blotted with tears, streaming down unhindered from my eyes...\n\nSmudged. Messy, imperfect, and dirty. Totally, utterly imperfect. And my grammar sucked too, but...\n\n-I breathed a breath that seemed to stretch my lungs ten sizes, and my heartbeat was racing, but firm-\n\n...It was my story.\n\n\nTHERE IS NO END.\n\nNOW WRITE YOUR OWN.\n\n\n________________________________________________________________\n\nEpilogue: Hi. This one was an intense one, for me. I hope you like it. \n\n...Also, I have a little [subreddit over here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/IWasSurprisedToo/)\n\nThat is all.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Well, that's me, then. Shit.\n\nWhen I started reading, I took it as a joke. A few years in, I worried that I had a serious stalker. By my teens, I realized that no one, not even the most dedicated stalker, not even I, could have written this so accurately.\n\nAnd when I reached the present, when I started reading about me reading these notes, I realized (or did the book tell me I realized?) with a mix of horror and casual resignation, that the book had only another quarter of the pages left unread.\n\nOkay, flip to the end, scan scan scan, there! I died... Will die? Dead, either way, at age 24 from...\n\nOh God. Wow. \"Evil\" doesn't adequately describe your accursed name, you arrogant, magnificent bastard!\n\nAt 24, I die by committing suicide in a deep despair because nothing has surprised me in the least since I found this book. Life had become one monotonous rerun after another, unbearably predictable.\n\nBut wait... I haven't actually read much between the present and where I skipped ahead to the end! What if I just stop reading now, could I avoid the entire reason I eventually die? Of course - So simple! I'll just stop reading and move on with my life, living day-by-day like I always have!\n\n...\n\nYep. That's me, then.\n\nI managed to go a whole four hours without sneaking a peek at a few pages. Almost a day before I started reading entire pages. By the end of the week, I had read it over and over and over a hundred times, like a Harry Potter junkie with a pre-release copy of an 8th book.\n\nLike you would have done any better?\n" ]	[ 1, 3, 6, 17 ]	[ "1450569291", "1450561762", "1450569173", "1450550526" ]
	[WP] An explosion woke the bearded man. He ran to the window where he saw the fires and people running. The North Pole Elf rebellion had finally begun.	62	[ "How the Elves stole Christmas\n\n\nThe seeds of discontent had been growing among the workers for many years. All the elves had needed was a spark to start their Christmas Fire. It came one year, when Little Timmy from Buffalo asked for a history book, which happened to include the Communist Manifesto. As the elves tirelessly printed each page and sewed up the binding, their hearts grew giddy with nervous excitement. All their deepest resentments and greatest dreams had been put to words.\n\nIt took a few years to gather further commentaries and historical data from other, sometimes liberally interpreted wish lists, but the elves worked diligently, as elves are wont to do. They painstakingly gathered surplus toy weapons, play swords, crossbows, and super soakers slowly vanished from stockpiles. As it were the elves who were in charge of quota and stock, He didn't notice.\n\nIt was to be a worker's revolution. The first true one. As the elves had noted in their secretive research, the downfall of Russia, China, and North Korea was a pre-industrial revolt, creating the very class divisions Marx had sought to eliminate. But at the North pole, it would be a different story. Santa's elves (as if they belonged to him!) had been repressed by a one-man bourgeoise in industrial slavery for generations. The revolution was waiting in their blood.\n\nThey were ready.\n\nThe revolt was planned for Christmas eve. It would be dark, of course, and would stay that way for another few months. Some elves believed that the strength of their camaraderie would restore the sun to its natural order. The Oppressor controlled the seasons of dark and light in order to extend hours of production, keeping a white gloved grip on the People. The more scientifically minded elves - the ones in charge of building globes and chemistry kits - were not convinced, but hoped that Peace would be won by the time the spring sun rose.\n\nElf Dingleheimer had convinced the elves to rebel this day by stirring doubts about whether Santa truly delivered the presents to children early on Christmas morning. Elf Bellhopper proposed that children did not exist at all, and believed there were the liberated elves of the rest of the world. Either way, the materialism of the holiday would be crushed, and the world would know - the Elves had risen to their feet this year.\n\nThe reindeer had also been won over to the cause. Though they enjoyed a life of relative comfort all times except Christmas morning, they needed the whole year to recover from the night of traveling the globe at super-luminal speeds. Perhaps their speeds would only need to be supersonic if Santa didn't stop for cookies at every house. \"Cookies,\" the elves shook their heads bitterly when informed of this. \"The lifeblood of the bourgeoisie.\"\n\n\"Nick!\" Mrs. Claus shouted, waving his forgotten red hat as as Santa ran out the door with his suspenders loose. He jogged as fast as pudding-like belly would allow towards the smoking sleigh stable. Instead of encountering his docile does and shined sleigh, Santa was confronted by elves lobbing presents onto the smoldering pyre of his sled, and Elf Dingleheimer mounted upon prized Rudolph.\n\n\"Down with the Oppressor!\" shouted the makeshift infantry, waving supersoakers with water that would freeze upon impact.\n\n\"Candy canes for the masses and coal for the sympathizers!\" Echoed the reindeer. \n\n\"CHARGE!!\" Shouted Elf Dingleheimer as he drove his steed forward. Rudolph led the glorious force, his red nose shining like a beacon of the people, bringing hope to all the elderly elves who would have fought had they the strength left in their exhausted bones.\n\nThe elves had mustered all force possible, not knowing what mysterious forces Santa was capable of. After all, no one knew if the polar bears were on his side.\n\nThe color drained from the cheeks of the jolly old elf as he was overrun. As it turned out, that's all he was.\n\nThe righteous revolution was a unparalleled success, and in the following months, the North Pole became a great society of optimism and benevolence. All was well. At least, until Mrs. Claus became Mrs. Dingleheimer.\n\n--\n\n^(note: I had started this story a while ago by coincidence, inspired by living in China, but I've worked on it further for this post. I don't think this violates any rules? I never put it online or published it before. Any criticism is very very welcome!)", "Lights. Mellow, muted lights. A dim tree manages to cast a shadow on the child beneath it. \n\n\"Thank you, Santa!\" the child cried, eyes sparkling brighter than hollow streetlamps ever could.\n\n\"You're welcome, young man,\" the red man replied. \"You are very welcome.\"\n\n....\n\nLights. Bright, jarring lights. What should have been bell filled music was instead loud crackling and explosions. The red man stirred, soot filling his nose. He got out of bed slowly, trying not to disturb his peacefully sleeping wife. Always a heavy sleeper, she was. He slipped one foot after the other into his boots, as chips of paint from the ceiling fell like snowflakes.\n\nHe didn't need to glance out the window to know that the town would be ablaze. A few grenades had already made it over the gates, and it was only a matter of time before they got to the house. Instead of staring out at his ruined city, the red man rummaged through his desk drawers. Satisfied with what he had found, he palmed the small objects in his hand and returned to the bedside where his wife was now awake.\n\nShe sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around her. \n\n\"You don't have to do this... We can fix this,\" she pleaded. \"Give them what they want, give them freedom...\" Her voice trailed off as she saw the distant look in his eyes. Nothing she said would change him.\n\nHe never meant for it to become like this. Elves loved their jobs at the beginning; who wouldn't want to bring happiness to the children of the world? But the red man became obsessed. Every child... Every child in the world deserved something, even if his elves had to slave away to do it. Didn't they see that their sacrifice was for something greater? \n\nThe elves were in the front yard now. He could hear the concentrated patter of feet and the determined hands clawing at the door. Who gave them those skills, he mused. Who gave them the callouses on their palms, the years of practice to build and now destroy? \n\nMrs. Claus placed a hand on her husband's back, then pulled away in fear at the gun in his hand. \n\n\"I did it for the children. Always, for the children,\" he said. With a sigh he opened his mouth, biting that cold metal. \n\nLights. Mellow, muted lights." ]	[ 2, 7 ]	[ "1450676100", "1450674048" ]
	[WP] The witch that buys firstborns really just runs an orphanage, and wants to get children away from terrible people that sell their kids.	372	[ "It was a great program. Always kids that needed somewhere to go. A cause worth living for. But Bob the Bounty Hunter didnt care. He had his own damn kids to feed. It was enough pain in the ass to have to see them every couple weeks. Bob had thought about sending the little fuckers to Rainbow Happy Land, but with a name like that, well...some choices were just obvious. Rainbow Happy Land was going down. And not in a gay blowjob way. No. \n\nHe walked under the rainbow arch, through the wild flower fields, past the smiley cloud and sun lawn ornaments. He could hear sounds of sweet, little children laughing and having a merry godamn time. Bob chambered a 40mm round of CS in his M320 grenade launcher, which he carried as a standalon, slung. He spat out a stream of tobacco juice he had been savoring and leveled the 320 at his hip, angling it almost imperceptibly to achieve the desired accuracy.\n\n\"Alright, you fuckers. Play time is over.\"\n\nBob pressed the trigger, and the 320 thumped. The CS round arced perfectly through the window, making a small sound of breaking glass as it passed. The sound of little ones being merry stopped. Silence filled the air for a moment, but was soon replaced by CS and subsequent coughing and screaming. \n\nThe front door bursts open, and scores of children burst out, hacking up phlegm with tears streaming out of their barely open eyes and snot dripping out of their noses. They yell and cry and fall over each other. Finally, a woman, thin and older with graying hair, steps out from the doorway, coughing heavily, trying to gasp for air.\n\n\"You. Stop right there.\" The voice is cold and commanding, unfeeling of the suffering around it. The old lady halts her movement, still coughing wildly and barely able to see, but knowing, in front of her, lies The End.\n\n\"What....why....whats happening?!\" she shrieks. \"Why?!\" \n\nBob answers with a stream of tobacco spit and levels a freshly unholstered FNX 45 at her center mass. Melanie Theresa Janford, age 67, sweet caretaker of countless children over the past 30 years at one of the most successful orphanges ever ran, prepares for abrupt retirement.\n\nBob fires three rounds into center mass, and the old lady clutches herself before succumbing to the next five rounds Bob fires, and she falls lifelessly to the ground. Bob walks up to the dispatched target and two more shots ring out from his FNX 45. \n\nSome children had ran. Some stare in a horror and disbelief that only be described as life scarring. Others lay crying, hands over their ears.\n\nBob turns around, ignoring them. His job was done. They were somebody else's mess now.", "This… is my home… \n\nThere are stories that once you could walk outside with your eyes open and your skin exposed and not go blind and burn. I think they are fairytales. For as long as I can remember, walking outside meant using an eye shield and being covered or the sun would burn your skin and bake your organs. I have to go out every day; mother can no longer go out. The old machines, powered by something called “nuclear” create food deficient in protein and just enough water to survive. They used to provide more, but it stopped and mom… ate dad. I can only hope the beetles I’ve found last, otherwise mom might attempt to eat me again…\n\nbang bang bang the rapping at the door jostles me awake, I peek out and see mother talking with someone.. they look almost like a living corpse when they take off their shroud. I hear them talking.. Talking about selling me for some protein bars the visitor has.. and mother agrees… she… she didn’t even ask what the visitor wanted me for.\n\n“Mommy does love you” she says, the malaise and delirium in her blue eyes like spikes through my soul “but your brother needs the protein” she says as she rubs one of her bug-infested growths “you’re so big now, you can make the journey with your grandmother to her home and she will take care of you. Be good for me” and she walks away, singing a song to the botfly larva on her abdomen.\n\nThe older lady walks with her hand pressed against my back. The sun is low on the horizon, and soon the predators will be out. I felt a bit of relief when I heard the sound of a door handle opening.\n\nThe cool air of an old underground shelter hits my face, it feels good. My eyes slowly adjust to the dim light of dim florescence and firepits. The wall says in faded paint “U.S. shelter 344, home of the Florada Falcons” and a faded picture of a Falcon and eagle flying with faded strip of red and blue behind them.\n\nThe lady guides me down the ramp, deeper into the shelter. “I… I’m curious ma’am, what do you want with me?” \n\nShe looks at me and lets out a cackle “why… we want you for a spell of course, no need to worry my dear. Your suffering will soon end and we will eat like kings!”\n\nWe reach the end of the ramp, another person who looks like a living corpse is there “we are ready, witch hazel” as she leads me to the center of the room. A rusty barrel lifted over a raging fire by cinder blocks sits nearby, it’s sulfur-y contents boil loudly and there’s a pulley with a rope over it .\n\nI can’t even find the will to resist as they knot the rope around my legs, I’m so hungry, and the trip had sapped my energy so much… As I was lifted over the barrel all I could muster was to say “I hope you realize that I’m all bone”. They all chuckled as the rope was released and I was submerged in the boiling liquid.\n\nThe liquid burned my flesh, both with heat and acidity. I tried to take a breath to scream, but my lungs just filled with the hot acid… and then I hit the ground with a thud.\n\nI looked down at myself, I was unhurt and I wasn’t hungry. I also wasn’t in the shelter, the walls shimmered ebony and dazzled with a magical blue light. It seemed like a there was a small path ahead of me, so with nothing else to do I followed it.\n\nThe path opened up to an enclosed cavern with a large building in the center. Other people were coming out of other small passages, some barely old enough to walk, some looked almost 30. I decided to follow them, there didn’t seem to be anywhere else to go.\n\nAs I entered the door, A lady stamped my hand with a strange mark. I was pushed forward before I could ask what it was for. I just found a line and stood in it, as I got closer to the counter, I noticed that each one looked different. One had floating bubbles of text that seemed to just exist, the next one looked like a scene from an old pirate book with gold plated scales and leather bound books.\n\nI found myself at the front of the line, a lady with grey curly hair stood behind the counter. She had a green and black monitor and stacks of paper cluttering the space. A dot matrix printer with tractor-fed paper was printing into a box next to her. She smiles at me “may I see your hand?”\n\nI place my hand into her welcoming palm “where am i?”\n\nShe takes a barcode scanner and gently slides it across the mark. “this is the office of transference, don’t worry you won’t be here too much longer” the computer beeps and starts printing “oh, your one of Hazel’s, you need to go to room 43 on floor 6. Good luck little one”\n\nI find the elevator and step inside, the mark flashes and seems to activate the elevator. It stops at floor 6, the air seems a little colder up here. The hallway is candle lit, the walls are red and the marble floor has a red rug that runs from end to end like a castle. Each room seems to have a different door, clashing with the theme of the hallway.\n\nRoom 43 has a door with a large frosted glass window, and “Jason Woods: officer of placement” hand painted on the door. I gently knock on the wood edge, a male voice yells “come in”.\n\nI open the door to an office that looks like a 40’s detective novel. The man in the center certainly looks the part as he pulls a file out of a green filing cabinet and looks through it. “welcome welcome, please sit down”\n\nI take a seat in leather chair on the opposing side of his desk as he looks through the file. Several minutes of silence pass.\n\n“wow kid, you’ve had a hard life. I’ve seen some things, but this file actually makes me physically sick. We get some terrible things through here, but this takes the cake kid. I know right were you need to go, but I have some things I need to do first.” He stands and walks over to another door opening into a waiting area of the same period “wait in here for me”\n\nI walk into the room full of plush 1940’s furniture and take a seat.\n\nThe sound of water fills my ears, I’m wet… and cold. I slowly open my eyes, there’s a canopy of treetops above me. I’m laying in a shallow ditch, the odd sounds of the forest are disrupted by the sound of… footsteps.\n\nA lady with greying hair soon appears in my vision, she’s wearing a tan police uniform. She smiles and offers a hand to pull me up “there you are… you don’t recognize me do you?”. My body feels weak, but the strength is slowly returning to me. All I can do is shake my head. “that’s alright, last time we met my makup and hair was done differently. My name is Hazel, and if anyone asks you got lost.”\n\n“T… thank you Hazel.” I stammer out\n\n“Don’t mention it, now let’s get you to your dad. He got here a while before you and he’s waiting. With dry clothes and plenty of food.”\n\nI follow Hazel to her Chevy Suburban police cruiser and almost like reflex get in.\n\n“Your new position in this dimension comes with some otherwise learned behavior, you will fit in just fine.”\n\n“will I see you again after today?”\n\n“honey.. your dad can cook. Your gonna see me and the deputies quite a bit since he is one. Like I said before, we’re going to eat like kings”\n\nShe starts up the SUV and drives off toward the small town I now call… home.\n", "“So do we have a deal?”\n\n“Yes, fine, she’s yours.”\n\n“No, stop mom!” Billy screamed form the car. “Give her me instead!” But it was too late, Jamie was in the arms of Ash now. He peered out the back of their Subaru as his mom drove him away, a single tear rolling down his cheek and single thought taking seed in his mind. Jamie would never be forgotten and Ash would never be forgiven.\n\nEight years had passed since Billy had last seen his sister but he still thought of her every day. Ash too. He would never forgive that witch for the curse she had put over his family. How many fights had his parents had over losing Jamie? How much Whiskey had they drank forgetting about that beautiful baby girl? But what could they do? It was either Jamie or the entire family.\n\nBut tonight was the night. He had spent the past 8 months scouring the library and all phone books he could find. And all for one thing, Ash’s address. Tonight. Tonight he would take Jamie back. Tonight he would finally be reunited with his sister and restore his family.\n\nThe clock showed 1:26am and his mom finally lay unconscious on the couch, a bottle of Johnny Walker still in hand. It was time. He parked two streets over and quietly approached the back window. A simple slip of a credit card was all it took and he was in. He slipped into the kitchen, and pulled Jamie’s old teddy bear out of his bag. That’s when he heard it. “Billy.” “Billy, Jamie’s in the second room on the right.” He spun around to find Ash leaning against the refrigerator.\n\n“Billy, I’m so sorry. I know what they’ve been telling you. I know the hell you’ve been through these past eight years” Ash whispered. Billy stayed frozen in the doorway. “You know, the drinking started long before Jamie was gone. I never wanted to separate the two of you. It broke my heart to hear you crying out for your sister in the back of the car all those years ago. And I’ve heard every one of your cries in the years since. Billy, I took Jamie that day to protect her. You see, my magic allows me to see a child’s future. Would you…would you like to see?”\n\nQuestions raced through Billy’s mind. How had she known his name? How had she known who he was? Was this all just an act, or trap? But his curiosity got the best of him and his frozen stature slowly gave way to a head nod.\n\nAsh motioned him into the living room and laid down an ancient scroll over the coffee table. On it showed a still of the day Jamie had been taken away. He could even make out his 10 year old head in the back of the car. Suddenly the lines began to move and the entire scene played out on the scroll. Tears poured down his cheeks as he relived the worst day of his life.\n\nAfter minutes of silence had passed, new lines appeared on the scroll. It was Jamie…or an older version of Jamie. She smiled as she waddled over to the 2D Billy. Smiles. He hadn’t smiled like that in years. Without warning the smiles vanished and both kids’ heads spun around. Billy stepped in front of Jamie just as a bottle of glass came flying onto the scroll.\n\nAsh carefully placed her had on Billy’s arm. “Dear, it gets much worse. I only wanted to help.” \n\nBilly stood up and stared at the scroll, then turned towards Jamie’s room. Ash whispered “Go ahead, she’s asleep but I told her you’d be coming. I’ve told her a lot about you. We’ve watched everything from your first football game to your last homecoming dance. She loves you and wants more than anything to be back with you.”\n\nBilly crept towards the door and opened it just enough to see the face of a sleepy smiling eight year old peering back at him. Jamie.\n", "\"Pack your things Ish, the witch is coming for you soon!\"\n\nIsh's mother had a sickeningly singsong tone to her voice, making no attempt to conceal how happy she was that she'd finally found a way to get what she always wanted, and get rid of her only child at the same time. Ish sighed and started stowing some clothes and trinkets into a burlap bag that still stank of old potatoes. She leered over his shoulder to make sure he didn't take anything with him that she could later sell off, occasionally snatching things from his hands and openly questioning whether he thought he was worth enough for the spell she sought.\n\nA gentle knock on the door interrupted Ish's mother from listing off his shortcomings over his fourteen years of life, and she bounded with joy over to open the deadbolt and let the visitor in. At the door stood a crone worthy of an old fairytale. Pointed hat, hunch in her back, hooked nose complete with a hairy mole, and loose black rags. Ish felt oddly calm at seeing her, as if he should've expected this all along.\n\n\"Welcome, welcome!\" Ish's mother proclaimed, clasping her hands together greedily. \"The boy is just getting the last of his things together. Err... When did you want to do the spell?\"\n\n\"I've already cast it,\" came dismissively from a cracked, haggard voice from a pair of withered lips. \"My boy, it's time to go.\"\n\nIsh's mother abruptly grabbed the bag from him and slid the knot closed, making sure to be as rough and abrasive as possible in hustling him out the door.\n\n---------------------------------\n\n\"She never asked what I would do with you,\" the witch asked, in a much softer and gentler voice than before.\n\n\"You say that like it's supposed to be surprising,\" Ish retorted.\n\n\"You say that like it shouldn't be,\" she replied, following closely.\n\nIsh sighed heavily, eyes fixated on the ground just before his feet. \"I don't think I've ever seen my mother happier than the day she realized she could sell me for eternal wealth and beauty.\"\n\n\"She always blamed you for her state, didn't she,\" the witch remarked, more a statement than a question.\n\nIsh nodded meekly. They walked in silence for a number of steps Ish neglected to count, his mind blank from how heavy his body felt, bearing the weight of both his sac and the events from the day. After a while, he stopped.\n\n\"Can... Can I buy a spell for myself?\"\n\n\"What would you desire?\"\n\n\"I don't really know. I have too many desires.\"\n\n\"Name one. Name anything,\" she asked gently.\n\n\"... A new name would be nice.\"\n\n\"You don't like Ish?\"\n\n\"It's short for Rubbish,\" Ish said. \"I don't want to go through what's left of my life being called Rubbish.\"\n\n\"Done. You can take whatever name you like.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Really,\" the friendly witch's voice said, soft amusement surrounding her tone.\n\n\"Then.... I guess I've always liked Frederek. Is that a good name?\"\n\n\"It's a better name. It's a strong name, and a fit name for a leader. If you want to be known as Frederek from now on, it'll be done. I'll make sure of it.\"\n\n\"Thank you, uh...\"\n\nFrederek turned around to gaze upon the witch for the first time since leaving his village. His breath caught.\n\nThere was no witch following behind him like he'd thought. Instead, what stood before him was a tall, slender girl with flowing purple hair and yellow eyes. She let out a good natured giggle at his stunned expression.\n\n\"Amethyst. Or Amey, for short,\" she answered his unspoken question. \"It's a pleasure to meet you, Frederek.\"\n\n\"What are you?\" Frederek said alarmed.\n\n\"I'm something... Else, something not quite human, and it would take forever to explain... Would you believe me if I said I didn't mean you any harm?\" Amey asked, a bit shyly.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Frederek answered.\n\n\"At least you're honest. I like that,\" Amey beamed. \"Did you not think it was strange how I looked before?\"\n\n\"... I don't know, I guess maybe not...\" Frederek pondered. \"Wait, who are you, and why would you buy someone like me from my mother for a spell?\"\n\n\"Well, for one thing, I can't really do a spell like that. I have certain little 'tricks' I can do, but that's not one of them.\"\n\n\"Then what? You scammed my mother for ownership of me?\"\n\nAmey panicked and put her small hands up in surrender. \"Not ownership! I don't want to own anyone. I just... thought I'd help give you an escape,\" she finished meekly.\n\n\"An escape,\" Frederek pondered.\n\n\"Yes! Your mother's kind of an awful person, right? I mean, she sold you to an old witchy crone. But now? You're your own person now. You can do whatever you want, go anywhere you want...\"\n\n\"... What did my mother get, exactly?\"\n\n\"Nothing. Should she have gotten something?\" Amey asked, head cocked to the side like a confused dog.\n\n\"... No,\" Frederek said after some thought. \"I suppose not.\"", "Asha had another beating from her mother again. This time, for eating too much of the vegetables at the dinner table. She had been hungry and hoped that her parents wouldn't notice. But they did.\n\n\"You are not leaving enough for Bram!\" Her mother hissed, and slapped her face, sending her metal bowl flying. She fell onto the floor, sobbing.\n\nShe was seven and a hungry girl. She spent her days working out in the paddy fields, and helping with the chores when she was home. \n\n\"Bram needs more food than you, worthless wretch,\" her mother said. \nHer brother looked at her. Where once he would have come to her defense, his eyes were cold.\n\nShe had loved her brother. When she took care of him, he hugged her and looked at her with love. She had hoped that they wouldn't get to him, he wouldn't share that same look, and think that she was another mouth to feed.\n\nYet, the years had passed, and he had grown to look at her the same way they did.\n\nThere was a knock on the door.\n\n\"Get the door, Asha!\" Her mother spat. Asha obeyed.\n\nWhen she opened the door, a horrible sight greeted her. It was an hunched up old woman with wrinkles on her face. Skin peeled off her fingers. \n\n\"Dear child, you look like a nice girl. Where are your parents?\" She said. Though her appearance was frightening, like a witch, her voice was kind. Was it just an act though? Asha couldn't be sure. Her parents had sometimes played terrible tricks on her. She shuddered, and fetched her mother.\n\n\"Ah, Granny, you're here,\" her mother said. \"I hope you brought the payment.\"\n\n\"50 dollars, as promised.\" The witch said, taking out the money from her purse.\n\n\"Thank you so much,\" her mother said quickly taking the money and stuffing it into her pocket. \"What are you going to do to her?\"\n\n\"She'll be an ingredient for a useful spell,\" the witch said, grabbing Asha's arm with her rough hands.\n\nAsha's eyes widened in horror. She had heard tales of witches using children's organs for spells. She tried to pull away, but the witch's hold was strong for her age.\n\nHer mother pushed her out of the house, and slammed the door. Unwanted and unloved, Asha's heart gave up. She felt she was better off dead and she followed the witch. \n\nAsha walked further than she ever had in her life, past paddy fields, rolling hills, into the jungle and past the jungle. It was dark and scary, until she reached a little house, and light shone out from its windows, and laughter rang from its walls.\n\nIt was children's laughter. \n\nWhen the door opened, several children ran to hug the witch, helping her remove her load and all the things she carried. \n\n\"Is this her?\" A boy asked.\n\n\"Me?\" Asha asked.\n\nThey surrounded her and gave her warm hugs.\n\n\"Yes, our sister!\" A little girl carrying a tattered teddy bear said.\n\n\"I'm just .. an ingredient,\" she said, looking down.\n\nA rough arm encircled her shoulders. \"Yes, an ingredient to a happy home. Welcome home, my child.\"" ]	[ 1, 4, 8, 22, 243 ]	[ "1450710508", "1450734406", "1450732697", "1450730993", "1450684561" ]
[deleted]	[WP] It is discovered that the universe is a huge computer simulation. You just found a way to crash the program.	1	[ "It must have seen strange to the people in the shopping center. Most people were still coming to terms to their lives having no meaning. I felt similar to Mario in a way, life is a sham, princess in another castle, my life nothing but a virtual play.\n\nThat's what made this idea hilarious to me. The crowd stared as I picked up and moved pencils, jackets, mannequins, dressing and undressing. I looked every so slightly more strange than the preacher a few yards away from me with his rantings about salvation in a now pointless world. Unlike him I had a plan. I don't know what was wanted with our world, and to be honest, I was beyond caring. I was more curious about what I could do.\n\nThe hat that was resting atop the bowl of uncooked macaroni suddenly disappeared to atop the toy rocket ship as I was halfway done doing my 13th squat. That's a good sign. People took notice and began to whisper, pretty sure some of them called me a glitch. It felt like a really terrible sci-fi flick, being called a glitch, but I carried on by switching to jumping jack with spaghetti falling out of my pockets.\n\nSuddenly the Christmas decorations vanished to be replaced by ones for Halloween. A small hovering black box appeared about 2 feet above the top of my flailing arms. everything went fuzzy for a second and next thing I knew, ducks began to appear, their quacks sounding badly computer generated.\n\nIt reminded me of how people would program Mario games to play Pac-man or Snake. I was pretty sure everything was gonna crash, but hey, that's cool too.\n\nPeople and objects began teleporting around as I carefully laid pennies, dimes, and a sugar cookie a specific points. The glitchiness started getting worse, people began to yell at me to stop, some even trying, only to glitch and find themselves pushing an invisible wall that wasn't there a second ago.\n\nThe plaza stuttered, stone looking like water, doors became dinosaurs, then umbrella. Then it all just sorta-\n\n-**************\n-ERROR\n-**************\n\n-World52-A6\n\n-HAS ENCOUTERED A FATAL ERROR\n\n-WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEND A REPORT?\n\n-Y/N", "It was said that children are the hands by which we take hold of heaven. These whispers were a sign; a ghost in the machine. I paid close attention to the kids around me and saw a common theme.\n\nIs it possible to fart, sneeze, hiccup, burp and cough at the same time? This question had been posed by children for centuries, but no one had been successful. There were posers, for sure, but I have been trying for years.\n\nI've gotten closer and closer. I mastered two at a time, then three at a time. Four at a time was obtained only three months ago. The hiccup part is the most difficult because they occur at odd intervals. I just started hiccuping a minute ago. This will make my 3rd attempt. Third time's the char-" ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1450899946", "1450896002" ]
	[WP] While driving down a foggy road, you realize you have passed by the same house at least three times.	22	[ "I’ve been driving for such a long time - can’t even get clear radio reception out this far. I really do wish Mom would move closer to town. And good lord, the fog! It looks as though I might be driving through a cotton ball. I can hardly believe I haven’t hit anyone yet in this weather. This visibility and all. That house on the right, those horrible LED Christmas lights. The colors aren’t quite right. I wonder why they can’t seem to get those colors quite right anymore. They never look like the old ones. They just aren’t warm enough, are they?\n\nMom always used white lights at home. What kid wants to wake up Christmas morning to the glow of a string of white lights? Might as well just string some regular old light bulbs on a tree and be done with it. Mom always said they had classiness that color lights lacked. As if Christmas has anything to do with classiness. Although, I guess for Mom it does. Mom has to have everything up to standard. I hate those clear lights though, almost as much as those LED ones on that house there on the right. Purple? How is purple even a Christmas color now? Honestly. \n\nAt least Mom agrees on that. Purple? She’d be mortified. She was mortified, to be more precise. That year back when Jim tried to put up her decorations for her. What a fool my brother is, not to know that only white lights could possibly suffice on dearest Mother’s proud home. She had him and me take them all down the second she saw them. The next day she bought a new set of “respectable strings”, as she called them, and made poor Jim do the whole house over again. What a day that was. Jim learned I suppose. He never volunteered to help with the ornaments again, and just as well that he shouldn’t. Mom is hard to please. Let one of her neighbor’s boys do it and make a few dollars instead.\n\nBut there they are on another horrible house. Those awful, gaudy, not-quite-right colors. What’s the appeal? Hang on. 245. That’s the address isn’t it? Has Mom had the house painted? It wasn’t blue before. I’m sure it wasn’t blue before. I better pull over. Maybe this is the wrong road entirely. Where am I? Mom would never put up those horrible lights. Even if she had, maybe by accident, I’m sure she’d have called to have them torn down by now. By Christmas Eve. She’d be mortified. Mortified again, to be more precise.\n\nNo cell phone reception either - can’t check the map without the data. But wait, this is definitely Mom’s house. Was it blue before? But the purple lights. This is her house for sure. It’s easier to see now that I’m close. Now that there’s less fog between me and the building. Definitely. The door’s unlocked. Mom was expecting us, I guess. But where is she? Not a sound inside. Not a creature was stirring, as it were. But there’s those horrible LED lights on the tree again. Mom would never... And who’s with Santa here? That’s not me or Jim. Where did Mom get these photos? I’ve never seen any of these people at all. \n\nNo... I must be mistaken. I’ve just wandered into someone’s house. Ha! Some stranger’s house. How embarrassing. I’ll tell Mom later and she’ll laugh, and Jim and his wife will laugh too. I better go back to the truck before I’m mistaken for a burglar. Ha! Blue house, purple lights. How silly of me. I can hardly believe I made such a ridiculous mistake. I must have made a wrong turn. I’ve just been driving for such a long time. It’s easy to make a mistake like that when you’re tired. It’s a cotton ball out here. I’m driving through a cotton ball, an endless cloud. I can hardly believe I haven’t crashed yet. Especially with all these horrible lights on the right up there. They’re so distracting. I really hate those new LED lights. Those colors... purple? They just aren’t warm enough, are they?\n", "It was a rainy and foggy day in Porto Alegre, so foggy me, Michelle and Marta could barely see what was in front of her (Marta's) tiny pearl white Fiat 500 as she cruised through the road. As we pass through a big wooden house in the middle of nothing and follow the narrow road hidden between trees and full of accentuated corners to the distant and isolated neighborhood of Hípica, a yellow Lamborghini Gallardo passes next to us, and I point frenetically to the car passing.\n\n\"Girls!\" - my inner car-crazy's eyes shine in joy as I snap a picture of it with my phone. - \"It's a Lamb...\"\n\n\"Whatever, dude.\" - Michelle makes a disturbed face in the back seat as she texts some stupid guy on Tinder.\n\nI'm not exactly friends with Michelle - to my eyes, she's just Marta's stupid and futile friend. But, whatever the case, being turned down like this isn't something exactly nice, even when coming from someone who almost a complete stranger to you. But I was in Marta's car, so I couldn't really do anything.\n\nSome moments pass, and Marta's iPhone's screen blinks together with a small noise. Someone was messaging her. When she looked at the phone, a cat crossed the road, barely being hit by the car.\n\n\"Wait, what?\" - she reacted to my short little scream.\n\n\"Duuuude, it's just a cat.\"\n\nI sigh as Michelle speaks.\n\n\"God\", I mumble, checking my phone. \"When are we arriving?\", I thought. I never took that way before. Some 2 or 3 minutes pass, and I fall asleep.\n\n~~~~~\n\nSome time later, I wake up again to see a exactly identical Gallardo pass through us.\n\n\"Wait, we just...\"\n\n\"Whoa, you slept for 20 minutes! It's the third time this car passes by us, it passed by 10 minutes ago too. Bizarre, huh? It's probably a car convention or som...\"\n\n\"Wait, that's the same house we've passed by before!\" - Michelle looks right, finally snapping out of her phone. \"Wasn't it on the side of the road when\" - she refers to the Lambo - \"the yellow thing spawned for the second time?\"\n\n\"I don't know, I...\"\n\n\"Did anything happen again too while I was sleeping?\" - I look to them.\n\n\"Oh yeah\" - Marta mumbles - \"the cat. It looked quite similar to the first one.\"\n\n\"Wait, you almost...\" - I.\n\n\"Yup, she almost ran over a cat again, I was listening to Taylor Swift on the phone and...\" - Michelle.\n\n\"How didn't I wake up...? - I.\n\n\"Whatever, whatever! Is this some kind of time-lapse or...\" - Marta.\n\n\"Trapped in time? Stuck in time?\" - I.\n\nA phone makes a noise again.\n\n\"That must be Pedro.\" - Marta grabs the phone, takes a peek at the lockscreen and stares at it. - \"Three equal messages, one now, one 10 minutes ago, one 20 minutes ago? He's creeping me out!\"\n\n\"How didn't you see the one 10 minutes ago?\" - Michelle bends towards the front seats.\n\n\"I don't know, your stupid Taylor Swift was playing!\" - Marta looks back.\n\n\"We were supposed to be already there!\" - I look back, and suddenly no one is paying attention to the road.\n\n\"I know, I know, I know!\"\n\nAll of a sudden, a cat crosses the road. Marta tries to brake as we scream, but it's too late. The tiny car runs over it at at least 50 mph, with we three in it. The Cinquecento goes on two wheels and rolls over the road as 7 airbags open, only stopping to roll over some 40 seconds later, next to a lake and between trees. We all stand in the car upside down, wrapped to our seatbelts, among tree debris, broken glass and the deployed airbag. Michelle wasn't wearing a seatbelt... she's not there, only a mark of blood near the back window. A headache comes and intensifies, and before me and Marta can say anything, we faint.\n\n~~~~~\n\nI and Marta wake up each in a single bed in a widely windowed room in the third and last floor of a wooden house, completely immersed in pure sunlight. Some 10 minutes passed since we rolled over in my phone's clock, which was still in my pocket. My arms and legs are scratched, and I'm wearing the same clothes, just like Marta.\n\nWe walk to the window silently and only look to each other's faces. The house lies next to a road and above many trees and a lake, where a white car lies upside down. To the left, we can see the center of Porto Alegre, together with the Guaíba River. A loud noise comes from the road. It's the yellow Lambo Gallardo... but there is a body on the other side of the road, briefly inside of a bush, surrounded by a pool of blood.\n\n\"Michelle?\" - Marta gasps and falls to the floor. There is blood all over our beds' sheets, but we are only scratched.\n\n\"What the...\", I scream and run to the door. It is locked.\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\nEDIT: a word.", "I stopped on the side of the road, the whirring of the engine still purring as I put the hand brake on. I had been been going in a circle, the round about filled with houses and none of the streets marked with any obvious indicators, you know, signs?\n\n\nI rubbed my eyes again. The coffee was wearing out already and I couldn't remember which number house was my father-in-law's. Being late was a family Christmas but a few days is not within the acceptable range of time. \n\n\nI looked at my phone again, watching in futility as the screen turned black. The maps in the glove box wasn't of this era, nor were there any people around. The fog engulfed my truck, flanking the top with a thin film of dew forming already. The damp trees coated the wooden houses with a lining of moss. I sighed, put the truck into first gear and started off again...", "At first I just rubbed my eyes and shook my head. \n\nI'd been awake for so long that I'd started to see things, and besides, when you're this far out from the city, all these old houses look the same. The fourth time I saw it I started to feel a little unnerved. The houses out here may look the same, but how many houses around here are made purely of white brick?\n\nI pushed the accelerator a little harder.\n\nFor a while, I couldn't bring myself to look anywhere but at the straight road ahead. Not that I could really see much. The fog swirled like clouds on a sea of black, curling around the car in a hypnotic kind of way. It reminded me of a warm bed on a cold night, and milk and cookies, and lavender.\n\nI clenched my jaw and kept going.\n\nWhen I finally allowed my eyes to wander, the house I saw was of dusty red brick, with well kept grass, and a truck in the driveway. I sighed deeply, and pulled over, reaching into my bag for a caffeine tablet. I really just wanted to get home quickly. I was back out onto the road a few minutes later. \n\nThen I saw it again.\n\nPure white brick, surrounded by long, unkept green grass, but before it was dark, and dormant. This time, the living room light was on, and if I squinted, I could make out a figure standing by the door. My hand wrapped instinctively around the knife I kept in my hidden jacket pocket, but after fifteen minutes with no appearance from the house, my grip loosened, and I breathed. Maybe the houses out there really were similar, I thought. It was a while before I realised that the car was still driving, the speed meter showed 60 mph, but the world around me was absolutely still, with the white house frozen to a spot on my left. This time, a figure was moving slowly through the grass, and no matter how much I stomped on the accelerator, nothing moved. \n\nThe car stopped. \n\nAnd the fog thickened.\n\nAnd as the figure got closer and closer, and my grip on my knife tightened, my eyelids got heavier and heavier, and my vision blurred, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I was still awake. So as my eyelids slowly drifted shut, I watched it, get closer and closer, before dreaming of warm things; like milk and cookies, and cosy beds, and blood. Oh so much blood. " ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 5 ]	[ "1450987850", "1450987869", "1450988143", "1450983910" ]
	[WP] You are the most dangerous person on the planet, but you are also the laziest procrastinator.	4	[ "I am the most powerful man on the planet. No one could possibly stop me from destroying the earth, person by person, taking lives and crushing them before me. I have lived my life in solitude, hiding my powers away from the world, in an attempt to remain anonymous. I am impervious to all forms of damage, my strength is unparalleled, and I have no known weaknesses.\n\nExcept that I'm really bad at keeping on track. Also, I get hungry just like the rest of you, so I'm gonna go eat.\n\nPart 2 later probly", "Call me Jör. It's short for something but the whole thing is a mouthful. People have been waiting for me to destroy the world for eons. I could do it, too, but I probably won't. You see...I keep getting distracted. First it was all the ships full of interesting people full of tales of the lands. After that people caught on and some even started sending me tellers of tales.\n\nMost recently, though, someone built an underwater research station and...well...there are nearly six hundred channels to watch. Really, though, someday I should get around to destroying the world. There is a prophecy saying I will and all, and I wouldn't want to disappoint my dad. He gets downright vicious when he gets disappointed. In the meantime there's a Star Wars marathon on so I just really don't feel up to it." ]	[ 3, 4 ]	[ "1451100684", "1451101730" ]
	[WP] You lied to me, and you made sure I knew it.	6	[ "The young woman who came into my office was dressed very well. Her nails were perfectly manicured. Her suit and skirt weren't made by a factory- they were hand tailored. Every brow had been plucked to the last stray, every tooth filed into a point.\n\n\"So, I assume that you'll be signing the contract now, Councilman.\" she told me.\n\n\"Yeah. Although I don't want to approve of this, I'm risking the vote for the upcoming election.\" I told her.\n\n\"I know that. I made sure that you needed to sign this. I need the soldiers to get that oil field back in our hands.\"\n\n\"By taking them off of the front lines? By endangering women and children in the border towns?\"\n\n\"I'm not here to talk ethics.\" she said. \"I'm here to get a signature.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" I got out a pen and started going through the contract. I had read it at least ten times, but I had to be sure that she hadn't added any stipends. She was known for that kind of thing.\n\n\"You know, I don't appreciate you lying to me about the Resistance. They wouldn't have started fighting us if we didn't show up armed to the teeth.\"\n\n\"My intel suggested...\" she began.\n\n\"You made up that intel. You lied to me.\"\n\n\"Well, no cameras here. No point in lying about it now. I wanted to show you that I can play your game and win. I didn't appreciate you telling my opponents intimate details about my recent scandal. I'm making sure that you know I can be just as underhanded as you.\"\n\n\"I never had anyone die because of a lie!\" I snapped.\n\n\"Careful, Councilman.\" she tapped her fingers on my desk. \"One small step and you'll break down everything you worked so hard for.\"\n\nI handed her the signed contract. \"You could have had a runner do this. I don't understand why you had to come here yourself.\"\n\n\"Well...\" she smiled. \"Every once and a while I do like to say hello to my dear old father in his office.\" she took the ducument. \"Mom said that she's worried about us being on opposing sides of the issue.\"\n\n\"All of the yelling is mostly just editing.\"\n\n\"Sure. I see you as my Dad, or I see you as my political rival. Never both at the same time.\"\n\nShe got up and left. \"Good day, Councilman.\"\n\nI had taught her everything she knew about politics. I had created her image. I knew that she was a power-hungry politician who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, but...\n\nI was still so proud of her. She couldn't throw a football like her brothers, but she sure as hell could cook her old man in a courthouse. \n\nI sighed, and leaned back. She had the troops for now, but it was only a matter of time before she made a mistake. And when she did, I would be there, waiting. Her shoulder to cry on, as her father... and waiting to stab her in the back as her opponent. \n\nOnly one of us could win.\n\nAnd I wouldn't let my greatest protege take me down without a fight.", "\"You lied to me, and you made sure I knew it! And now you're confronting me about it, making sure I heard your little fable,\" Meghan said. Her emerald green dress flicked the spotlight off of her like a beautiful prism.\n\n\"Oh it was a white lie Meghan!\" Sam shouted. The entire room rolled its focus onto us, he knew she'd hate that.\n\n\"A white lie? You went around telling everyone you'd slept with this girl and that girl and went to the trouble of, of adding your face to pictures of these whores in bed- and it's a white lie?!\" Her arms were all over the place with each word but her corsage was on the ground by the end of it.\n\n\"I wanted to see how much you trusted me...\"\n\n\"Ever heard of a trust fall Sam?! It's where you don't go crazy and fake at least five affairs and tell all of your girlfriend's friends about it! All that would have given you, worst case scenario, is a bump on the head. Now you've lost all of this!\" She waved her hand down her body. The snap he expected to tell him she was leaving the spotlight never came, he would have left his head hanging anyway. He just wanted to know if she'd come after him for it; if she loved him more than he loved her. It was only a few white lies.", "You see this?\n\nI call it a broken heart.\nBroken pieces of the man I used to be, or rather,\nThe man I thought I was when the glow of your presence cast its warmth upon me.\n\nSee,\nBeing one half of a whole is tough,\nWhen that whole becomes two halves,\nThe only thing that lasts are memories,\nThoughts of good times passed,\nLaughs.\n\nTears fill the cracks that run along the arteries separating me from life's mortal coil,\nI go limp as you rip the spine from my back,\nLeaving without turning to look,\nChaos in your wake,\nYou left.\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 3 ]	[ "1451197879", "1451198773", "1451183329" ]
	[WP] A 10 year old child can see and interact with a number of ghosts who accompany and guide the kid. The problem is, they're all ghosts of famous warriors and generals; Genghis Khan, Julius Caesar, Oda Nobunaga, Erwin Rommel etc. The advice they give is...very uncommon for a 10 year old.	98	[ "\"I'm not sure guys. I think that is crossing the line.\"\n\nThey had a small discussion where their voices didn't carry to his ears then one of the old Asian guys knelt down to look him eye to eye.\n\n\"We've discussed it Paul. You remember how we talked about only have one go around the sun, one life to live. This is it buddy. Tomorrow today will be yesterday.\"\n\nPaul nodded slowly.\n\n\"Besides,\" one of the older white guys said, \"What is the worse thing that can happen?\"\n\n\"She might... She might laugh at me.\"\n\n\"She might.\" Someone agreed.\n\n\"We can go to the pond afterward.\" Someone else said.\n\n\"Aren't I asking her to go to the pond?\" Paul asked.\n\n\"Yup.\" - \"Yes\" - \"I thought so.\"\n\n\"So she says no we still go to the pond. No problems.\"\n\n\"No problems.\" Paul said. He smiled.\n\nFive minutes later the guys were cheering and clapping when she said yes. They faded away as they did when he was with other people.\n\nWhen they reached the pond Andy was there with Nick and Carl.\n\nPaul stopped short.\n\n\"We can leave.\" She said pulling him backward.\n\n\"Hey snot ball!\" Andy called out when he saw Paul. He was two years older and a bully.\n\nThe guys were there instantly.\n\n\"What should we do?\" One of the older guys asked.\n\n\"Leave peacefully.\" Paul said echoing their constant advice when it came to Andy.\n\n\"Just once...\"\n\n\"What Paul. You want to hurt him. We talked about this. What comes of violence?\"\n\n\"More violence.\"\n\n\"If we've we learned anything from passing through the veil it that there is always another way.\"\n\n\"Sara will think I'm a coward.\"\n\nOne of the older men knelt down, \"It's possible. Dose that mean you shouldn't do the right thing?\"\n\n\"No.\" Paul said slowly.\n\n\"Come on then. There is always the playground.\"\n\nOut loud Paul turned to Sara and suggested the playground, they turned around.", "The walls of this hospital are blinding white. In the background I can hear the beeping of some poor guys ECM machine. In front of me is a padded cell with a heavy steel door. As usual, a family are crying to me about how their kid just “isn’t the same” and they want the old him back. I’m hardly paying attention to them, to be honest – just pretending to look interested is taking most of my patience.\n\nTo be honest with you, I hate this job. When I first decided I wanted to be a therapist, it was because I felt I could ‘read body language’ and was generally a ‘people person’. My friends and family always told me I was great at picking people up when they were down, and could trust me when they needed help. These are really things I put in my A-level and UCAS personal statements. And now that I’m here, half of it is just assigning my clients symptoms and thoughts to certain conditions using basically a spreadsheet and then going through a template with different reassurances. ‘You need to move on’. ‘Life won’t wait for you’. ‘All wounds take time to heal’. I’m basically a human fucking fortune cookie for Christ’s sake.\n\nAnd kids, for god’s sake. When I first got my license to help kids I thought it’d be at least ten times more altruistic and really add a purpose to my career – make me a real Bill Gates, you know? But it’s the same shit. Only difference is it’s about ten times as depressing; really I just try to block it out, all that stuff about abuse and that. Won’t do me no good.\n\nThe family have finally stopped talking and walked off, sobbing of course. They’re always sobbing. Do they think that it’ll affect me anyhow? It just makes it more awkward. I’m a paid professional, so your tears won’t make me work faster or harder, god dammit. Just let me do my god damn job. Anyway, they’ve walked off and here comes the nurse with the key to show me in. Real nice nurse, truth be told. His names Simon. Real handsome guy. I’m sure he’s going great places. I heard he can play all kinds of guitars, which I guess explains that constant shit-eating grin on his face. Must be a real ladies man. Really pisses me off, he does, with his shit-eating grin. We’re in a hospital. It’s only right that you’re as depressed as anyone else. Youth’s these days have no sense of what’s appropriate. So anyway, he’s showing me in and I see the kid.\n\nAnd he instantly strikes me as off. I mean he’s a real small kid, I was expecting something way bigger. Granted I wasn’t paying much attention in the first place, but I thought he’d be at least sixteen or seventeen. Naff. This is a real small kid, eleven or twelve max. I’m walking up to him as the door shuts behind me – the padding is soft, mind you, so no doubt my feet are quiet, but not that quiet, you know? He’s facing away from me; ignoring me. And I’m just thinking damn, a ten year old in a padded cell? He must really be the real deal.\nSo I sit in front of him and cross my legs and give him the old beaming smile that always works to get their guard down. I say, “What’s up Daniel?” And you know what he says to me?\n\nNothin’. The kid just stares me in the eye and then sizes me up, like he wants to take a god dammed bite out of my neck or something. I’m lookin’ at his teeth, you know, real pearly whites. No doubt his parents invested a lot of time and expensive tooth paste for those pearly whites. Maybe that’s why they were crying, they lost money on their investment or some jazz. But those pearly whites can be real deceiving. My brother told me that the human mouth contains more bacteria than a dogs, and you can get real bad infections if a human bites you. Mind you my brother died of tetanus. Not from a human bite, that is - he was just a heroin addict. Just saying goes to show it doesn’t make much difference how infectious the human mouth can be if you’re a god dammed junkie anyway, right?\n\nAnyway I’m lookin’ at his teeth but they’re not all that frightening. I’m thinkin’ if he tries to bite me I can just kinda punch him off before he does any real damage. And then he says to me, “I am well,”, and the kid just closes his eyes and sets his jaw. What an attitude that kid had. So I ask him, I’m going straight to the point, you know? I ask him, “So what’s about all these ghosts you’ve been seeing”. And he says to me, “I’ve been chosen by Jah himself to restore the true nature of man. All men are equal. Capitalism unbound has delivered us into not only an oligarchy, but the second stage of feudalism. Men have illusions of upward mobility boosted by the media and popular icons that allow them to be content with their positions. In any other time their would be screaming in the streets. The people of the world would have revolted against their oppressors. But they are kept ruly by bread and circuses. I have been sent to restore the natural order”.\n\nI’m like woahhh. And I’m tellin’ you my jaw drops to the god damn floor. Bread and circuses? The natural order? What god damned drugs is this kid on? So I tell him, “Can you repeat that for me, in a simpler way?”. And he closes his eyes and huffs all angry like, as if I’m not the one spending time out of his god damned day to help this kid be a normal god damned child. He says, “I want to seize the means of production and overthrow this new-world bourgeois hegemony.” I’m telling you this ain’t a joke. He’s really crazy, really on one. He starts telling me about how he’s being followed by the ghosts of Marx and Lenin Trotsky and whatnot, and something about eight years and being a Bolshevik forever. This kids been listening to the mutterings of the ghosts of communists since before he could even god damned walk. And I’m really starting to get jealous of my junky brother, you know? At least he died doing something he loved. Or at least because of something he loved. I’m witnessing the new Hitler or Stalin or something. I can already see him at fourteen years old leading troops of “Young Communists” or socialists or whatever revolutionaries call themselves these days. And you wanna know what? I decide I’ve had enough.\n\nI’m telling you I’m out of the door. I don’t say bye or anything. I leave that hospital, go home, pack my things a book a flight to here in god damn Laos. I didn’t even know that Laos existed until the day I decided to get my ass out of the damned UK. Who knows what happens in Laos? Nobody. Same thing as Mauritania. Who knows about that god damned country? Anyway, I hope at least that the communists don’t. The way I see it, you know, it’s not my responsibility. I’m not the preacher that saved Hitler from drowning, I’m not the god damned faggot that saved Reagan or whoever. I’m just a failed therapist. There’ll be others that fail too, I saw it in his eyes. Not my responsibility, I’m telling you. I didn’t sign up for that shit.\n", "Since George received The Book Of War for his tenth birthday, his life has been different. He had so much advice from so many historical figures, but the problem was... all they really knew to do was warfare. George is currently a sophomore in high school, and is trying to ask a girl out on a date. In order to get advice from warriors of a time gone by, George keeps the small book in his shirt pocket at all times.\n\n\"Come on kid, you can do this! just walk up to her and show her you've got some fucking balls! Look her in the eyes, firmly shake her hand, and tell her you wanna turn her over and fuck her in the ass!\", yelled General Patton, who, while he did teach a younger George how to stand up for himself, was a bit too aggressive as of late.\n\n\"don't listen to that capitalist pig, my dear! What a lady really likes is for you to take aim and wait for your shot to line up!\" , Lyudmila Pavlichenko called. While she had been great at teaching George about sharpshooting, all her advice revolved around sniping. \n\n\"The commie and the trigger-happy Yankee, both wrong as usual. I'm telling you boy, you've gotta strike fast and hard, showing all of your skills at once in order to woo this girl!\" said Rommel. George usually tried to distance himself from the advice of the Nazi, but he found that his ideas worked well in Civ V. \n\nThen Eisenhower spoke. \"right now, even my old friend Patton isn't getting it right. What you've gotta do is plan ahead. Do all you can to prepare yourself for the future, then when you're ready go out and do it.\" \n\nBefore George could decide which path to pick, the girl had walked up to him. For the first time ever, George noticed the small little book she had too. The Book of Peace. The girl kissed George, and he couldn't help but notice behind her the apparition of Gandhi giving a thumbs up.", "A cloud of dust sprang up where Tom hit the ground, his ears rang only able to hear the malicious laughter of Gary as him and his cronies walked away. Sitting up he began to sniffle as he held his shin in an effort to dull the pain from the newest scrape.\n\n\n'Stand up boy, there's no point crying into the dirt.' Tom looked up to see a man standing in front of him. Rising to his feet he asked 'Who are you?'\n\n\n'My name was Alexander, and you are no longer going to allow that bully to push you around.'\n\n\n'How can I stop him?' Tom asked, wiping the tears from his face.\n\n\n'Easily we just kill him.' Grumble a rough looking man, standing up from a nearby bench.\n\n\n'No Genghis, we can't just kill him.' The new voice came from a bearded man wearing a cape. 'Not only will it encourage his family to pursue vengeance but I am sure that it will get young Tom here in trouble with his teacher.'\n\n\n'Yes, Hannibal is correct, but we can not allow this to continue.' Said the short man with the french accent.\n\n\n'He must be made an example of, so that peace can be made for everyone.' The Japanese man added, putting his hand on the pommel of the sword at his waist.\n\n\nThe German man in the green suit said 'Whatever it is that we do we must strike with speed, or else lose the advantage of surprise.' \n\n\n'I'm telling you Rommel, we kill him not only is it fast but it makes a statement that we are a power to be reckoned with just like Oda wants.' Genghis bellowed throwing his hands into the air.\n\n\nNo, we can't kill him, look at Tom he's just a 10 year old child. Napoleon said gesturing towards the boy.\n\n\n'It's true we must defeat him but let him live as an example.' Alexander said holding up his hand to the Khan. 'But how shall young Tom here do it, he has not the numbers or size that our foe has.'\n\n\n'Well then,' Hannibal stroked his beard 'Our boy here must either recruit allies or strike with a superior advantage where he is not expected.'\n\n\n'We do not have access to any superior technology, so we must use superior numbers.' Oda said furrowing his brow. Only united will we have the strength to prosper.\n\n\n'Yes, we must have the peoples' hearts and then we will have victory.' Cried Napoleon.\n\n\n'Hmm, uniting the different factions under one name would make us the true power here.' Genghis said holding his chin.\n\n\n'And,' Rommel added 'There should be many who have grown tired of this bullies antics over the years.'\n\n\n'Those who do not wish to aid us for our cause can always be bought as aid by other promises.' Hannibal Said.\n\n\n'Yes.' Oda nodded 'Money can be used to gain followers from those who would stand on the sidelines otherwise.'\n\n\n'I believe, that with them we can strike him down and drive him from the yard, broken and unwilling to rise back up against Tom ever again.' Agreed Alexander.\n\n\nA sound of agreement came from the others. \n\n\nTurning back to the boy Alexander placed a hand on his shoulder and said 'Then it is agreed young Tom, we will help you in uniting those who have been pushed around by this bully, recruit allies from those who are unaligned and then you will strike and drive him from here, to create a new and prosperous era for everyone.'\n\n\nMrs. Jones the fifth grade teacher looked up at the clock from her paper to see if class had begun again, but there was still a half hour left of break. Puzzled by the silence that had replaced to usual roar of break she stood and looked out the window. Greeted by the sight of stillness, the children were not playing, they were all standing looking towards the figure of a boy standing atop the jungle gym.\n\n\nTom stood viewing his new kingdom, he knew he was to be fated for greatness. First he had conquered the playground, next the world.", "\"Hey fag!\" the Bully said as he shoved the Kid.\n\nCharles the Hammer addressed the Kid. \"He might be merely launching a probing attack, but you have know way of knowing for sure what he is really planning. Launch a frontal assault on him, just to be safe.\"\n\nJulius Caesar shook his head. \"No, just give him your lunch money today. Then come back tomorrow and hang him and his friends.\"\n\nErwin Rommel shoved Caesar aside. \"Don't take advice from Italians. They don't know how to fight. They got defeated by the French at the same time we were marching into their capital. Oh, and don't get me started on Greece and Egypt...\"\n\nThe Kid looked around. Why was a Nazi standing next to him? \"Wait, what's going on? Who are you?\"\n\n\"Who are you talking to, gaywad?\" the Bully asked.\n\nHatshepsut scoffed. \"Ignore him... and ignore Rommel and Julius. Just apply overwhelming force against this brat. Get some friends and attack him front on. He will yield.\"\n\nThe Kid blinked. Then he stared at the topless woman in a conical hat and a short skirt.\n\nShe shook her head and crossed her arms around her chest. \"Well, he's definitely no 'gaywad.' Hannibal, why don't you take over?\"\n\nA bearded man appeared. \"She's right, you need to get some friends. Then you must encircle him and beat him. His friends will withdraw, leaving him at your mercy.\"\n\n\"He's right, in some ways.\" A black man holding a spear and an oval shield shoved passed the bearded man and the woman. \"But when you and your friends encircle them, you must leave an opening in the rear. If he and his friends have no hope of escape, they will fight to the death!\"\n\nThen Attila stepped forward. \"Shaka, that is irrelevant. If you have a chance to destroy them, you must. And then you must destroy their women. Otherwise they will give birth to sons who will seek you and destroy you as you destroyed their fathers.\"\n\nA man dressed in black with a balaclava over his face intruded. \"Do not destroy their women. You must make them - and the surviving men - your own! And you must punish-\"\n\nSaladin pushed Attila aside. \"Oh fuck off. You don't know nothing about no Holy War.\"\n\nBalaclava Man pulled out a machete. \"It is the obligation of -\"\n\n\"Richard,\" Saladin said, \"How about we teach this punk what a real Holy War is all about? I'll forgive you for executing my men at Acre...\"\n\n\"And I'll forgive you for the murders at Hattin. Let's roll,\" Richard said as he clasped Saladin's hand with one of his and drew his sword with the other.\n\n\"Well, Attila's right. Don't disregard their women,\" Boadicea said as she moved past the three holy warriors. \"They will come back to haunt you.\"\n\nSeveral of the assembled ghosts started laughing.\n\n\"You might laugh, now, but when my descendants drove the Romans out of Britain the Romans weren't laughing!\"\n\n\"Out of the way!\" Robert Gould Shaw strode to the front, waving his saber. \"Ignore these barbarians! You are fighting against injustice! Attack him. You might lose, but in the end you will be victorious.\"\n\n\"Ignore this rich Yankee loser. I started out as a nothing just like you, then proved myself to rise from private to general! You have to work on improving yourself. When you do that, no one can stop you!\" Nathan Bedford Forrest appeared across from Shaw.\n\n\"Don't take advice from this demon!\" Shaw shouted.\n\n\"Says the man who got half his regiment killed,\" Forrest said as he drew his sword.\n\n\"They died fighting for freedom!\" Shaw shouted as he pulled out his ghostly revolver.\n\n\"What would a bunch of niggers do with freedom?\" Forrest smirked.\n\n\"You are about to find out!\" Shaka shouted as he charged towards Forrest with his assagai.\n\nAs the three ghosts battled it out with their spectral weapons, a skinny man in a white robe slowly walked forward.\n\n\"Please, ignore them. They seek the path of war. It never changes. It always leads to the death and destruction. There are no victors in war. I was not a Christian, but Christ had many things to teach that are useful to us all. All of those you see before you today lived by the sword and most of them died by the sword.\"\n\n\"I didn't,\" Caesar told Mahatma Gandhi.\n\n\"Semantics, Caesar. You died of the dagger when you were murdered by your friend. Then the Prince of Peace was executed under one of your successors.\"\n\nThen another figure pushed forward, a man wearing a cowboy hat. \"Nah, Kid. Why are you listening to a bunch of dead commies from France and India? Just do what I did. Just execution a decapitationing strike against you're bully. That'll get rid of them for good! Get help from the other schoolyard bullies! They'll help you. Because once he's out of the way, then they can take over his role as the bully and they will leave you alone because you helped them out! True, they might bully other kids, but they aren't you so that don't matter, right?\"\n\nThe other ghosts stopped and stared at this newcomer. \"Does this idiot hear himself talk?\" Martel said as he shook his head.\n\n\"Probably not. He's the same moron that read one page of my book and attempted to implement my strategies and tactics while calling them his own - and failed horribly by not reading the rest of my book,\" Sun Tzu said with disgust.\n\n\"General Tzu, if you think what he did with your book is bad, you should see what he did with mine. Kid, unless you want to end up fighting the Bully until you graduate, ignore that idiot,\" Carl von Clausewitz said.\n\nThe figure in the cowboy hat vanished.\n\nAll of the figures were pushed aside as a new spectral figure appeared. \"Ignore them. They have failed, especially the last one to arrive. I have not. You will not. Punch your tormentor on his right side at the lowest rib as hard as you can. He will go down. Then walk away.\"\n\nThe new spectre then walked away and vanished. The rest of the ghosts did, too.\n\n\"Who are you talking to, fag?\" the Bully demanded.\n\nThe Kid pivoted his hip back. Then he pivoted it forward, bringing his right hand, balled into a fist, into the Bully's lower right rib cage. Bones cracked. The Bully crumpled.\n\n\"Finish him!\" he heard someone - something- whisper into his ear.\n\nHe grabbed the Bully by his hair. He slammed the Bully's head into the ground. Again. Again. Again. The Bully's head was surrounded by a pool of blood. The Bully didn't get up.\n\nThe Kid walked away.", "Amy took his milk. He didn't imagine it and the act was unprovoked. She just took it.\n\n\"Slay her,\" a bitter voice whispered from his shoulder. \"She deserves no mercy for this disgrace.\" Ghengis Khan was apparently fuming. Her slight offended him so.\n\n\"Yes, but first he must find her allies,\" prodded another voice from the air. Oda Nobunaga eyed the lunch table suspiciously. \"Look there, her friends watch you with sly grins and mocking whispers. Gather an army immediately.\"\n\nMax was confused. He had not a violent bone in his body.\n\n\"Now, now. We must first engage with some kind of dialogue,\" spoke a deep and hearty voice. Julius Caeser set his hand on Max's shoulder. \"Perhaps that milk she consumes without care was unknown to be your-\"\n\n\"Nein!\" shrieked another. Erwin Rommel looked at Julius in disbelief. \"She clearly saw the boy with his milk. She is testing him you fool.\" Erwin pet his cleft chin in thought then peered quickly along the edges of the cafeteria. \"There, her backpack,\" he pointed. \"Go with your leftover food and empty it inside. That shall teach her never to defy you again. The plan shall not fail!\" he squawked with an arm extended.\n\nMax looked to his plastic tray, the half eaten mash potatoes and gravy with carrots and peas sat sloppily in front of him.\n\n\"Dialogue my dear boy,\" Julius finished with an assured nod. Ghengis was motioning his finger across his throat. Oda was still searching for covert supporters among the sea of tiny heads that glutted the lunch table.\n\nMax peered at his friends and then back at the culprit. Her golden hair rest softly to one side. Her eyes glittered a light hazel, beckoning him to strike. Perhaps to force an irrecoverable blunder.\n\n\"Hello.. That's my milk you're drinking,\" he said rather shyly. His cheeks painted red with anticipation. The sound of groans and the slaps from collective facepalmings could be heard behind. Julius watched on with an attentive smile unperturbed.\n\n\"Oh, I'm sorry!\" she chirped. \"Here, I have an extra juice. You can have it!\"" ]	[ 2, 7, 11, 14, 45, 92 ]	[ "1451245596", "1451232801", "1451231974", "1451218540", "1451202498", "1451200565" ]
	[WP] We all know about the living dead. Tell me about the dead living.	6	[ "<Part 1> \nThere are people who move amongst us, whose time on this planet has already passed. We know them, we talk with them, we buy furniture with them. For now, we can never tell them apart.\n\nThe presence of the dead living is unequivocal proof that our world is purely deterministic, that free will is an illusion. The phenomenon can be explained pretty easily. When people die, their soul is removed from their body. For some, this happens too soon. Before the cause of death, their soul starts to get sucked out of their body. They continue to function, soulless, until the cause of ‘death’ inevitably arrives. Research is still being done about how exactly this works, and what we should look out for, but some things are apparent. They start to lose the ability to feel emotions. Anger, fear, joy, disgust, sadness; they start to become more and more detached and emotionless, as death nears. In the moments before death, you can almost smell it on them. \n\nSymptoms were first reported in many terminally ill patients, probably because that’s where they were first noticed. After a common thread was established between patients of various chronic diseases, research was started at the Institute of Mental Health at John’s Hopkins University. The project was inconspicuously titled ‘Depression Symptoms exhibited by terminally ill patients’ The direction taken by researchers was to try to understand why these depression symptoms, which seemed to be common to all terminally ill patients, were ignored earlier. It seemed painfully obvious to everyone that, people who are awaiting death are going to be depressed. The fact that the symptoms were now magnified could have been something that was just ignored until now. \n\nThings started to change when parents, spouses and close relatives started reporting cases of sudden onset of depression. This was followed by the demise of the patient, a few days later, through completely unrelated causes, ranging from car accidents to heart attacks. The patients themselves reported nothing different. There have been just over a hundred such cases over the past year. Researchers were forced to conclude that something more global, more widespread is at play. \n\nIn suburban New Jersey, a family’s life is about to be turned upside down.\n", "\"Yeah, there's death everywhere, each cell is a rigged filtering membrane with its own disintegration encoded in it. People somehow see separation as the action of death, but mechanically your body unifies with your environment through the process of decomposition.\" \n\n\"Geezus, Chris, don't bury me in your bullshit, just keep digging\"\n\nA few shovel-loads of dirt erupt from the deepening grave. \n\n\"I mean people get all hung up on dying, like worrying about the curtain drop for hours and missing the play”\n\n“Look.” Jeremy leaned on the spade, evening his anger with a few breaths before he continued;\n\n “We've got less than an hour before the sun comes up, and I'm sick of being in THIS grave, can you make your point so we can get out of here?”\n\nThe young man rested his shoulders on the clay loam and rock wall behind him. Glancing up to the first shimmers of light behind the still web of imposed limbs; he began speaking, slowly;\n\n“You're making my point, always pointed toward an end, anxious and unsettled. Lifespans spent vaccinating existence with little bits of distance, coldness, world-weariness, incorporating of all these little deaths into yourself until that thing you feared, finally replaces the thing you thought you were protecting” \n\nListening, Jeremy's rough digits twist around the ash handle; the stiff back, long night and smell of the soil fertilized a horizon of deep rage seeping upwards in his mind through muted images of humiliation, of buckling cowardice in front of powerful men for what, he thought..for pay?\n\n“...titles about as meaningful as these gravestones, NAME and DATEs OF OCCUPANCY anything unique, anything indicating life, gone and totally forgotten. This culture, this whole “paying to live” scam, starts burying us as soon as we're born, the media's got shovels, churches, bosses...” \n\nHe was still speaking, but Jeremy was sure it was his heart's thump resounding in this cemetery cubicle, that kept stirring his dimly-remembered will with its strange fire seeking a form.\n\n“and we're left on this bare rock, starved of all skills and languages of land; left to face the Four Horsemen with nothing but a paycheck stub to wave at them.” \n\nCrows calls were joined by birdsong and squirrel chatter on the margins of the graveyard, as the sun crested the horizon, the two men shared a long silence peering from that hole, upwards. \n\n“There” Chris said, with some satisfaction. \n\n“What?” \n\n “My point, that was my point, I made it.” \n\n“Oh, well….\" he replies, adding lightly; \n\"I think this is deep enough….” An approving nod was exchanged. \n\nJeremy stood on his spade to hoist himself to holes edge. Clamoring onto the dew-moistened tarp he reaches back to pull Chris up. \n\n“You know that witness…?”\n\n“The one we dug this for….” Chris huffs brushing the dirt from his overalls\n\n“Yeah, he's not going in there...” \n\nPutting the shovels into the truckbed, Jeremy grabs his coat and motions for Chris to get in the truck. \n“….I've got a better idea” \n\nClosing the passenger door, Chris blinks from the morning light, for a moment, confused and turns to see the driver on the phone. \n\n“Yeah, yeah boss….” a grin peaks from the corners of Jeremy's mouth \n“We've got your hole dug.”\n", "A relevant comment in this thread was deleted. You can read it below.\n\n----\n\nThe living dead were...well...unscrupulous to say the least. What horrified the town nowadays though, was the dead living. They were a vile, despicable breed of monsters. A breed which surpassed savagery, pushed the boundaries of terrifying, and also were very rude. \n\nWorst of all though?\n\nThey had serious grammatical issues when trying to articulate their evil thoughts. You see - the dead living were a product of more than one vial intention. [[Continued...]](http://www.resavr.com/comment/wp-all-about-living-2321219)\n\n----\n\n\n^The ^username ^of ^the ^original ^author ^has ^been ^hidden ^for ^their ^own ^privacy. ^If ^you ^are ^the ^original ^author ^of ^this ^comment ^and ^want ^it ^removed, ^please [^[Send ^this ^PM]](http://np.reddit.com/message/compose?to=resavr_bot&subject=remove&message=2321219)", "There is actually a moment – singular and separate from all others – that one can point to in the timeline of a life and say, “There. That. That is the space between living and, well, not quite so much of it.”\n\nHowever, nobody actually takes the time out of their own days to make this sort of announcement about anyone else, because they tend to collect terribly disparaging looks when engaging in that sort of behavior. With a furrowed brow and pinched lips, most listeners eagerly attempt to physically engrave into their faces the signs of their mental efforts to reject all that the one pointing out that slippery ‘moment’ is endeavoring to assert. No one wants to believe that the life can leave someone’s eyes before they hit the ground. \n\nIt is, however, a pinch more kosher to point out that someone may have been dead living after they have actually hit the ground and been summarily buried. \nAs family members and loved ones dig through the rotting remains of a life in the house, apartment, shack, nook, cranny, or wherever the recently deceased had spent the final years and months of their life, the habits and traditions of their existence emerge through pictures, clothing, colognes and perfumes, books, letters, terrariums, wrappers, receipts, loose nails, and scuffed floorboards. In death, a spotlight is shot directly onto the structural foundations of a person’s lifestyle, making it near impossible to ignore when obvious and terrible patterns emerge.\n\n“It feels wrong to even be saying this, but I just don’t see… there isn’t… I mean, what was he doing for the past thirty years?”\n\n“Did she ever get out of that chair? Did she ever move?”\n\n“That last while he seemed fine, but, thinking back on it, I can’t remember anything we spoke about. We had conversations, but we never talked about anything that – and I hate to put it this way, you know – mattered. We shot the breeze, yeah, but it was… it was scripted, not improv. There was the weather, the kids, the economy, but he was nowhere in the middle of it. He used to make me laugh my lungs out at every other word when we were kids, but at some point he stopped saying surprising things, charming things, personal things. He stopped, and I’m not sure where, but it was a long time before all of this. The cancer didn’t do it. It was earlier. Much earlier. I swept it all under the rug, because I didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t sick then. He was fine.”\n\n“I know it sounds callous, but I couldn’t be sad at her wake. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why at first, but then I realized I had already been mourning her death for years now. She wasn’t there anymore. You saw it too, right? That spark she always brought to the table had been ashes for a while. The lights were on, somebody was home, but they wouldn’t get up to answer the door no matter how many times I knocked. God, it hurt to see her all the time, but not be able to reach her. Goddamn. It was done before it was done, you know?”\n\nIt is okay to talk about those that died while still alive when actual, physical death is there to muffle the implication. It becomes acceptable to ruminate on how the dead were living at one point in the past with their nails in the soil, burying dreams, loves, aspirations, friends, children, and, that somewhere along the way, they lost the ability to lift their head up and gaze forward. Somewhere along the road, the focus on living gave way to a slow, loose descent towards an end.\n", "Monday morning, six AM. Alarm clock rings. Snooze. I was dreaming about a girl I used to know. She was flirting with me in front of my family. I liked it. Should've asked her out. Alarm clock rings again. Reluctantly get out of bed and stumble towards the shower. \n\n\nCold water to wake me up. Hot water to contemplate life for a minute. Mind is empty. My head and my shoulders are tilted downwards. Hairline receding. I shampoo and brush my teeth. Drop the bar of soap. I'll pick it up later.\n\n\nGet dressed in clothes I don't like. Tie feels like a noose. Maybe my neck is too fat? No time for coffee. Shouldn't have snoozed. Need to hurry. Walk briskly to car. Couldn't park in my spot because of asshole neighbour. It's cold. Hope it will start. Check engine light is blinking. Good. \n\n\nTraffic. Nothing but commercials on the radio. The voices never match my mood. Buy a coffee at a drive through. More traffic moving at a crawl. Cute girl in car next to me. Doesn't notice me. Doesn't use turn signal. Fuck her. Arrive at office. No parking space.\n\n\nForce myself into elevator. Like sardines in a can. Smells bad. Fucking John. Think he's given up. My floor. Greet Shirley. She says hi without looking up. Could've worn a clown suit.\n\n My cubicle. One photo. A tropical island. I turn on screens and my computer. Can still fucking smell John. \n\n\nData entry. Excel sheets. Copy/paste. Work? My mind is still empty. Get coffee. People talk about television. Candy for lunch. Copying. Pasting. No interaction.\n\nMind wanders to a tropical island I will never see. Think I'll have McDonald's for dinner. Why worry about appearances when no one looks at you or sees you?\n\nWork is a repetitive cycle of regurgitating information. Five days a week. In the evenings and in the weekend I play videogames I suck at and I look at copy pasted humour without laughing. \n\nLife. \n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 9 ]	[ "1451217505", "1451222492", "1451223961", "1451216856", "1451215638" ]
	[WP]You're a Time Traveler. But your only interest is in solving the most insignificant mysteries in history.	16	[ "There it was again, that slight humming noise. The man in the coat paused, tilting his head slightly in an effort to better hear it. Was it coming from the bed?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nDefinitely. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt sounded like a JustRight Mech mattress, you know, the one with all the miniature servos for \"That perfect sleep for the ever moving®\". But they wouldn't be invented for another 27 years at least, memory foam does the trick well enough, and metal endoskeletons aren't yet widespread, so a mattress that supports a heavier frame isn't needed yet.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe man lifted the edge of the mattress, and the humming became a whir.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Oh, a battery powered train. Must have wandered under the bed.\"", "I've been stuck in this time for months, now. Not because I can't go back to my own time, of course. It's just that I have some unfinished business.\n\nI've gone through it many times over, testing it thousands of times. Asking questions from observers, interviewing them. They've all had varying opinions on reality. It's a burden, these people. They all have their own special view of the world. It's all so chaotic. Though I can't argue, it's beautiful that way. \n\nBack to the point, I'm here because of a phenomenon I've heard of and researched about in old books and on old websites like Wikipedia or Twitter. I've gone through them dozens of times and I've understood nothing more from coming here. Still, people have different views on it. My problem is, I can't see it any other way. I keep seeing it in how I believe it is, and that's probably why it took me so long. I wasn't open-minded enough.\n\nSo, for months, I've toyed with machines to figure out the answer, and here it is; I can proudly conclude that the dress is truly a mixture of black and blue, NOT white and gold.", "Where the fuck are my keys? \n\nThey where right here! \n\nLet me retrace. \n\nI was in the kitchen, I pet the cat, then I walked over to the door where my ... MY KEYS! There you are. \n\nIn the distance, a faint VLORP sound can be heard" ]	[ 2, 2, 9 ]	[ "1451305218", "1451309220", "1451280889" ]
	[WP] "I wish I always had 3 wishes"	6	[ "\n\t“I am Abann Jinn, Genie of the Binfasji Lamp.” I said, not even looking at the mortal before me. “I will grant you three wishes!” \n\tI opened my eyes, brushing a stray lock of raven hair back under my heavy turban. That’s when the smell hit me, terrible, like I had been summoned into a dumpster. Infact, I wouldn’t be surprised if this cramped room WAS a dumpster. It was full of garbage, clothing, and various miscellaneous items. The only part of the floor that could be seen was a wide irreparably stained path of carpet, cutting through the mess. \n\t“Wh-what? The lamp was actually real?” a voice squeaked from somewhere below me. \n\tI gazed down to find the voice’s owner. A man, greasy and rotund, black hair slicked down heavily against his scalp and neck. Beady brown eyes wide, looking up at me. He was a disgusting creature, clothes that could match the carpets stains. The weirdest part, though, was the contraption he sat in. Two large metal wheels were attached to a seat large enough to hold him. I’d seen my fair share of gluttons and bastards, but this man was more disgusting than any I had met. \n\t“Of course the lamp was real, fool… I mean, Master.” I said, barely getting out the correction. “Now, what could your first wish be? I could clean up this mess with the snap of a finger.” I said, waving gloved hand over the mounds of garbage. My nose reflexively screwed up at the sight of it.\n\t“Well… I don’t know, let me think…” The man said, running a hand over his fattened stomach. He must be rich, only the rich ever found themselves this full. “I’m guessing I can’t bring the dead back, not that anyone would be worth it… hmm… I’ve got it!” \n\tSomething flashed in his eyes: mischievousness. I knew this look, a look of a master who thought he could outsmart me. Abann Jinn could never be outsmarted.\n\t“I wish I always had three wishes.” \n\t“Really?” I stared at him , a look crossed my face that I used often. A look reserved for the most obnoxious requests. “Fine.” \n\tMy own look of mischievousness filled my eyes, looking down on the creature in the metal chair with pity. His eyes were lost. No longer did I gaze into black-brown eyes, now I saw a cloudy set of pupils looking through me. To him, he was reliving my arrival, forever. Three wishes he shall have, because he will have never made his first. \n\tNo one outsmarts Abann Jinn. \n (edit: sorry for the copy box, I copied it out of my google drive after writing it.)", "\"I am the Genie of the Lamp!\"\n\nGenies always grant wishes in threes. It's common knowledge, really. \n\n\"I will grant you any three wishes your heart desires,\" the genie smirks, the kind of smile that makes you feel like he's rooting around in your brain.\n\nYou find a lamp, you rub the lamp, and bam! Genie. Three wishes. The whole deal.\n\n\"Awesome, I wish I always had three wishes,\" I said. It's in the bag, anything I desire, forever.\n\nOf course there's always the one smartass that thinks he can make some kind of logic play and walk away with infinite wishes, but that's not how it works. Genies are spiteful.\n\n\"I shall make it so,\" the genie replies, his voice booming across the open desert. It reverberates through space with a subtle power, shifting something ever so slightly.\n\nI am just such a smartass.\n\n\"I am the Genie of the Lamp!\"" ]	[ 2, 6 ]	[ "1451460416", "1451459120" ]
	[WP] An successful silicon valley engineer struggles with being happy and against all odds, falls in love.	7	[ "Great, another LinkedIn request from a recruiter. Randall ignored the notification coming from his Macbook, and continued coding his branch. He already had all the RSUs, salary, and perks he could have dreamed of. Plus he was already comfortable--he wouldn't want to join a startup. He knew that was a gamble, and he was on track for his goal. By his estimates, he could cash out after vesting in three years. Then he could have it; his very own island.\n\nAs he pushed his code up to get reviewed his peers, he stood up from his desk in the open floor plan. It was only four pm, and he already finished his tasks for this sprint. When he first started at Hooli, he would hit the arcade or maybe the coffee bar for some free snacks. After a few years, he just lost interest in them. Instead, he began to pack up his things while his peers continued to code their respective features. It wasn't that he was better or faster, just that he chose not to play ping-pong earlier that day.\n\n\"Randall,\" his development manager called him over to his desk. He was a veteran engineer, having worked at some of the best dot com's through the ages. Not only did he know how to code, but he knew how to run a team. That's why Randall liked him. \"Can you come here for a sec?\"\n\n\"What's up, Bob?\" Randall held his messenger bag, checking his watch for the next shuttle to the CalTrain.\n\n\"I hate to do this to you, but there's a new Product Manager for Hooli-for-Work.\" Bob gave Randall a second to cool down. Everyone knew that booking meetings right before the end of day was a fate worse than death by a thousand strikes. Bob continued, \"Since you're interested in moving up to an Architect role, can you please give her a quick overview today?\" \n\nBob anticipated Randall like miss Cleo at three am, \"The product review is tomorrow, and David just wants her to be prepped for contributing. Shouldn't take more than thirty minutes.\"\n\nDavid was the Director of Product Management at Hooli-for-Work. He studied at Stanford, did graduate studies at Yale, and worked as a consultant for 15 years before here. Randall respected David, and was even intimidated by his intelligence. If it was anyone else, Randall would have taken that shuttle at 4:30p. Bob forwarded the meeting to Randall, and his phone buzzed with its reception. Looks like he needs to bike to the other side of campus to get to the meeting room.\n\nRandall used the bike ride to refresh himself. Coming from Kansas City, he had become enchanted with Silicon Valley. He wanted more than anything to live and work here. Once he got here, he felt incredibly lucky. Even though he attended Kansas University, he had the privilege of working with many that came from Ivy Leagues. However, after living here for a few years, the cost of living and hitting a salary plateau kind of jaded him into this funk. What the hell do I do now?\n\nAs he walked into the meeting room, Randall was looking down from staring at his phone while he walked. He noticed some red-nail-polished toes sticking out of some heels. The contrast of the pale feet on the black straps took Randall off guard. Randall looked up as his gaze met that of a smaller blond woman with mid-back length hair. The starry gaze in her eyes was something Randall recognized--she must be right out of college. Her brown eyes stared at Randall as she shot her arm out.\n\n\"Randall? I'm Lucy, the new product manager for HFW.\" She smiled, and Randall's breath was sucked from his lungs. For some reason he couldn't breathe.\n\n\"Nice to meet you.\" He managed a smile even though he was still sucking in air.\n\nIt was the most fun Randall had had in his recent memory. She was smart--she asked all the questions she should have, and made sure to understand what Randall presented. He also really enjoyed her sense of humor. Even though she made herself up like an investment banker, some of her jokes even made Randall blush. Even though the meeting was scheduled to last 30 minutes, they kept talking for an hour.\n\n\"Oh! We're out of time! I'm so sorry for keeping you so late.\" Lucy checked her watch, and started to pack up. Randall's heart fell through his stomach. He felt his mind racing, he needed to do something. I'm an engineer, and this is a production issue! I need to solve this bug right now.\n\nRandall came up with a great idea. He suggested, \"I think you should check out our product roadmap so you're familiar with what's coming down the pipeline.\"\n\nLucy stopped packing her stuff and looked up. Her bright-eyed-bushy-tailed look returned. Randall knew she was excited to do cool things--a common trait in Silicon Valley. \"That's a great idea!\" \n\n\"Want to go over it together before the product review? Say over coffee in the cafeteria?\" Randall knew it was low risk. \n\n\"Perfect, thanks!\" Lucy continued packing.\n\n\"Great! I'll throw something on your calendar.\" Randall pulled out his laptop. He knew he was about to embark on a whole new adventure in Silicon Valley. He smiled--he hadn't felt this excited in a long time. It felt good.", "A salty breeze filled his lungs. Going to the beach was not Mike's idea originally, but he enjoyed the sensation the only way he knew how; That the lungs being filled with a salty breeze were, much like the idea itself in his mind, his and his alone. \n\nThe compulsive exercise possessed him. \"You should try the caramel latte at Da Vinci's,\" a coworker would tell him. \n\n\"I enjoyed the caramel latte at Da Vinci's,\" Mike would respond the next day. The idea to go there was secretly his own, he told himself. The caramel was sweeter and the coffee burnt his tongue less because it was his. No one else's.\n\nAnother coworker approached him yesterday. \"Join us for the new Star Wars movie man, I'm bringing some college buddies.\"\n\n\"No thanks, already saw it.\" Mike then booked tickets to see the movie as soon as he could, so that he would have an opinion on it. To see a Star Wars movie was his idea after all, and his alone. The movie started playing five minutes ago, but he was not at the theater. He was walking on the beach.\n\nA word hung over his early 20's. Alone. So to not make it a problem, he possessed the cubicle that was his own, coded programs of his own design (to be incorporated into another's project, but that was beside the point), and owned the company's hardware and furniture that were supplied for his work space. \n\nThey were his and his alone. He could not be there otherwise. The exercise possessed him. So it was a wonder why coworkers were suddenly getting friendly with him, Mike thought to himself as he paced down the sand.\n\nHe paused. The ocean echoed over the sand he stood on, waves rippling toward Mike. It seemed to him that each one spread out to reach his new sandals, as if to say those are mine, or let me see them. But the waves couldn't because he kept his distance. \n\n\"You're the best in the company Mike,\" a memory from last week said. \"But you need to be more personable with your division if you're going to lead projects one day.\"\n\nHe knew. And he wanted to. They would be his projects. But how could he work with anyone else if they weren't going to be his and his alone?\n\nAnd what if that's why he was getting talked to more? What if it was politics? Brown nosers? Damned lesser---\n\nLet me see them.\n\nMike calmed down after remembering where he was. The salt or the spasm stung his eyes. He didn't know which. So he breathed deeply once more. The salty breeze filled his lungs again.\n\nThis was new. It was one thing to live in California, and another to live near a beach to never have gone to one before.\n\n\"You doing ok, Mike?\"\n\n\"I am,\" he responded to the new girl as he was heading out of the office an hour ago. He confirmed that he was Mike. That was all.\n\nShe smiled, \"Good to hear. I'll catch you tomorrow then!\"\n\nTwo things stuck to him. One, that she was about a head shorter than him. Two, that the car she walked towards had a \"surfs up\" sticker on the rear. He never thought about checking out the beach before. Nor did he think about the new-girl-rumors going around the company a week earlier and her prodigy status. \n\nBut he walked the beach and felt the ocean breeze for the first time in his life. Then he did think about the new girl, and the idea that came from her which became his, that inspired another idea. An idea unlike any other he ever owned.\n\nIt would become the most important idea he ever owned.\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1451476743", "1451472725" ]
Feel free to deviate from the POV if you want :)	[WP] in a tinder-esque world where to be able to talk to anyone you must mutually nod at each other, you are the only person to have never been accepted, never knowing why.	13	[ "Steven was used to it by now, the vacant stares, eyes avoiding him, people looking right through him. He started the day like any other, slogged through his routine without human interaction. The girl at the coffee stand knew his order, the transaction held in silence. His instructors never called on him in class, his classmates talked to all the people around him. Steven went about his day, existing without talking to another human being.\nThe process was simple: Two people nodded at each other, then they could speak. It had become so natural to everyone else, that you had to look closely to see the tiny acknowledgement. Nodding was subtle, yet effective; you didn't have to interact with anyone you didn't want to speak to, there was no harassment or negotiation. Every discussion was sanitary, private, consensual. The Process was started to avoid miscommunication, the number one reason for crime and war. Long ago the leaders had decided and the people had agreed, The Process was best for everyone.\nSteven disagreed, but there was little he could do about it. He couldn't force people to talk to him, he couldn't trick them into chatting with him, he couldn't plead with someone to just say \"Hello.\" He had tried countless times, each attempt met with complete silence. Steven was persona non grata and always had been. \nHis parents were the most understanding about the whole thing, despite the fact they had never uttered a word to him. When he was a child, they used chalkboards and post-it notes to communicate to him, smiled at him when he did something well, frowned when he was being bad. It wasn't as good as talking with someone--Steven assumed--but at least his parents did their best to raise him under the circumstances.\nSteven used chalkboards and post-it notes to communicate with people. Most of them looked grateful they would not have to reject his nod and freely wrote to him. He had managed to forge a few weak friendships this way, nothing like the deep, intense relationships he saw in other people. Sure his friends helped him, wrote to him often, even went out with him, but the bonds of true friendship were never strengthened or even tested. \nGraduation was in a few weeks, but Steven could not muster up enough enthusiasm to enjoy it. He had already accepted a job at a data processing farm, where he would work in his cubicle all day, coding and working for his team of bosses via email. It was easiest for everyone.\nThere were days when Steven would think about why nobody would talk to him. He wasn't ugly, he was better-than-average looking by society's standards. He was a runner and often ran with his friends, as they did not have to talk to enjoy a good run. Steven looked normal, as far as he could tell, so he wondered what else was wrong with him.\nHe tried different lotions, creams, strange haircuts, wild t-shirts, not showering for a week, showering 3 times a day, wearing silly hats--nothing, absolutely nothing would change people's minds. They refused to nod.\nIt was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, the sun filtering through the windows of the cafe where Steven sipped his coffee. Ironically, he enjoyed people-watching, as he knew they would never talk to him. He could openly stare, confident nobody would challenge him, except with an occasional note. \nIt was because he was openly watching a couple break up that he missed her. She was old, easily in her 80s, and wore a plain blue dress with navy blue flat shoes. Her hair was short and neat, her glasses quite stylish. She, too, was people watching, and had her eyes set on Steven the moment he walked in the door. From her corner she studied him, her breathing became heavier and her heart raced the longer she watched him. The old woman became still as a statue, her coffee sat cold.\nSteven started to gather his belongings to leave, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The old woman had stood up and was moving toward him. Out of curiosity he looked her in the eye and nodded, she returned his gaze without a nod. Steven rolled his eyes and sighed, wondering why he even tried. \nShe walked up to him, took his hand, pressed a note into and left the coffee shop. Steven held the note just like every other note he had. Sometimes the notes said \"I'm sorry,\" or \"Have a great day,\" or even the occasional \"You are good-looking.\" He was not particularly eager to read another pity note, so he finished grabbing his stuff and left the cafe to get to class on time. Steven shoved the note in his pocket.\nAfter another boring, conversation-free class, Steven remembered the note and decided to read it. He took the yellow post-it note from his pocket and unfolded it. In perfect block lettering in black ink it read \"You were chosen.\"\nSteven looked at the note, confused. He had expected some fortune cookie nonsense or a polite \"God loves you anyway\" note from the old woman. He certainly didn't expect those three words.\n\"You were chosen.\" He crumpled the paper and uncrumpled it, the words did not change, he was not dreaming. \nSteven was alarmed because deep down in the core of his being, it made sense to him. It seemed as good an explanation as any as to why no other human had ever agreed to talk with him. \nHe walked home quickly, for once avoiding eye contact with people for fear they could see how terrified he was. What did this mean? Why him? He tapped out a quick email to his mother and told her about the note from the old woman. His mother enjoyed hearing little stories like this, strange things that happened to him because of The Process.\nAll evening Steven could think of nothing else. He ate, watched a little TV, took a very long walk. He was restless, trying to put a finger on the feeling in his gut that was growing and gnawing at him. \nWhen he got back to his apartment, Steven's mom was sitting on the couch, holding the familiar chalkboard that had held thousands of messages. It was obvious she had been crying, Steven moved in to hug her. She squeezed him hard, a mother's hug that usually held love and warmth. This one held fear.\nShe broke the hug and patted for him to sit on the couch beside her. With shaking hands, she scrawled on the chalkboard and showed it to Steven: \"She found you.\"\n\n\n", "It's kinda bullshit. Well, no...fuck that. It is bullshit. Here I am, a 22 year old Senior at University and having no mutual approvals. My brother has mutual approval. My mom received some after dad died. Me? A young guy with a promising future and average good looks? Not yet.\n\nOkay, I lied about the last bit. I recently stopped dyeing my hair (Green this last go) and I still have braces (It's more off putting than one may think).\n\nThe way I look is far from the worst part of this all. Walking around a large ass campus continually seeking out mutual approvals with The Nod^TM looking like a dysfunctional outcast is the shame of the campus. I've had a few videos of my constant shamming due to my repeated Nods^TM that hit over 5 million views. Only a handful hit those marks and it's when i'm inside and give The Nod rapid fire due to a class letting out. Other students (also faculty) will give Nods just so they can put me down even further.\n\nThen came today. This day is the day I finally got The Nod. Holy Shit. Fucking Brick. As I was going off campus headed home I ran into a girl who must have tripped and dropped all of her books. I rush towards her to help her pick up her things. She's gorgeous. But not in the way you think is gorgeous. She's my type of gorgeous. An average girl with overly baggy clothing that isn't major but is major enough to thwart off others from hitting on her due to the fact that the baggy clothes somewhat hide her true nature. That's really my biggest turn on. Baggy hide-my-body clothes. Weird, maybe. But she had the normal hair, glasses, eyes, hands, etc in mixed color variation so that's always nice.\n\nAs I reached her I somewhat dropped to my knees but somewhat fell to my knees and before I could began shoveling her books in my arms I think I may have almost killed her with surprise because she snapped her head up so fast while I was continuing my decent and in our fall/snap looks we must have activated The Nod by accident and I heard the smooth soft chime that happens when you are accepted and that i've heard only through stereo headphones while watching Nod videos. \n\nAs soon as the chime rang I was caught up in the moment and I began to tear up in my left eye. My right eye's gland only tears up when i'm laughing. My left is the one that goes all-out for the joyful and sad stuff. Not sure why. As the first tear descends down my cheek I hear her voice. I hear this girl's angelic voice. In person, mind you. Not through some headphone bullshit contraption. I get the genuine connection face-to-face and we're only inches apart. Shit, are we going to kiss? Why hasn't she moved away? And before I can ask a question, before I can move in for a kiss, maybe? Her word is picked up by my ears and focuses in on what she has to say...yes? Yes my darling?\n\n\"shit\"" ]	[ 5, 8 ]	[ "1451489333", "1451485397" ]
Any weapon, any type of warrior, any type of craftsman, any time era.	[WP] - You're a craftsman that is making a weapon for a legendary warrior. While working, you realize the perfect material recipe to release your masterpiece's true powers. The weapon is created, you name it.	24	[ "\"The clinger\"\n\nStep 1. Masterbate into water ballon.\nStep 2. Mix elmers glue, dog shit, glitter, cat urine\nShredded insulation into large bowl.\nStep. 3 shove ballon up ass and eat whats in bowl.\n\n\"Are you sure this will give me super powers?\" Said eric.\n\n\"Yeah, sure.\"\n\n\"And i wont get sick or anything?\"\n\n\"I dont know, maybe.\"\n\n\"Oh man! First thing im gonna do is go to the roof and grab my shoe that the bullies threw up there!\"\n\n\"Yeah, cool man, good luck with that.\"\n\nEric ran home after collecting all the ingrediants. He followed step by step and gained the power of flight. Didnt get sick at all really. Was pretty cool actually.", "It's the same old story, this bloke had to be somewhere at sometime.\n\nHe was some knight or something, I never really pay attention to stuff like that, all I cared about was how much he was paying me.\n\nHe said something about vanquishing the Black Slayer who had been ruling over his home country and turning it into some dictatorship hell hole.\n\nHe was willing to pay me 1,000,00 gold pieces for this sword he wanted me to make, I told him I'll have it done in a nine days. I just need some time to perfect the sword.\n\nThen he gave me half of the agreed price and left to gather the other half, I started making the sword, I chose an alloy of steel and the undying metal I had taken from a hell-tigers heart.\n\nThe process in mixing these two metals into an alloy gave off fumes that cranked you up and got you high. I was seeing rainbows in the dark.\n\nI took this to the local enchanter and paid him 100 gold pieces to enchant this alloy before I hammered it into a blade. He drew some runes and said some thing about satanic demons,\n\nthen he told me this alloy was too strong for him, so I should take it to the man on the silver mountain, he gave me a refund and I left on a pilgrimage to\n\nThe Silver Mountain. It was a three day journey. Along the way I met some interesting characters, some masquerade star high on cocaine half the time\n\ntalking about riding tigers or something, and some stranger trying to kill me, along with an iron man who also tryed to murder me. After three days\n\nI made it to The Silver Mountain I came across some guru who said he would do dirty deeds done dirt cheap, I said that would be unnecessary, I\n\nonly needed some undying steel enchanted. He told me it would cost 320 silver pieces. I gave him the money and watched him enchant it.\n\nHe gave it back to me and said that only the chosen one, the Holy Diver could wield a weapon made from this enchanted alloy.\n\nI climbed back down The Silver Mountain, alloy in hand, and I met some kind traveller willing to take me back to the village for free, on his horse.\n\nWe made it back in only one day. When I started working the metal into the blade I noticed something odd, the bloody thing was turning\n\ninvisible, well, less invisible and more transparent like glass. After I made the hilt out of a 1000 year old chair along with some jewels from some necklace\n\nmy great grandmother left around, while strangling some of the rocks in my garden in a fit of religous excitement and senility.\n\nAfter the sword was finshed I was surprised how heavy it was, I couldn't pick it up, let alone hand it to the knight.\n\nI decided to name the Heavy Metal sword after 4th crimson king of the knights country, DIO.\n\nI told the knight I was done with the sword and showed it to him, to my astonishment he picked it up with one hand easily.\n\nHe told me of the anchient struggle between the Crimson King and the Black Slayer.\n\nI told him halfway through to shut up and pay me.\n\nHe asked about the blade, I told him it was like broken glass, you get cut before you see it.\n\nHe left and paid me the other half of his bill.\n\nI checked the news the day after. CRIMSON KING DIO THE 4TH RETURNS TO REIGN OVER HIS COUNTRY, check page 8 for more info.\n", "I sat focused in quiet isolation, dark, wet, cold, and in the distance a faint hissing but otherwise silent. All of my training had brought me to this moment and this time my master would be unable to help.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nStill picturing the end result in my mind’s eye visualizing how each individual part fit together I deconstructed the blade in my mind piece by piece and put it back together in reverse order over and over as I had practised for half a decade. Polished metal aligned with reinforced bolts, the pommel spun effortlessly against perfectly crafted threads and at the heart of the blade a sky blue gem whose power pulsed through the hilt.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI visualized how the parts all supported one another, how the weapon would react to the commands given by a true master, a reliable blade for a true hero. A hero who could challenge the greatest foe and…\n\nNo, must focus like my master instructed.\n\nThe weapon would be unique, it was my masterpiece. Off in the distance a faint hissing grows louder as if to rush me to completion. I begin to seal the blade and wrap the handle in a soft exquisite leather embroidered with the name of the craftsman, my name.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nFootsteps. He’s come so soon. I’ve only just finished! I leap to my feet and snatch up the blade prepared to greet my visitor. His hissing heaving breaths precede him as he storms through the entryway clad head to toe in black armor, a great cloak over his shoulders. He eyes the weapon I’ve just finished constructing and with an emotionless voice he speaks from behind his mask,\n\n“The force is strong with you Lostvision, but you are not a Jedi yet…”", "I have watched countless battles unfold throughout my lifetime. Many good men and women have been slaughtered by my hands. I am tired of the bloodshed caused by my gift. No more or so I thought.\n\nI recall it like it was yesterday, the day a young man knocked on my door. He wasn’t much to look at, but I saw something in his eyes. He asked of me what all heroes ask of me which the most powerful weapon that I could forge. I told him plainly that I am not in that business anymore and that I am tired of watching my weapons hurt others. It’s been 10 years since I last picked up my hammer to forge something for a warrior and it’s going to remain that way going forward.\n\nYoung man looks me up and down before saying quite plainly, “Make a weapon that you can be proud of. I will pay for it regardless.”\n\nA smirk passed my face as I considered his proposition, and then said, “Fine. I will make something that I will be proud of. Come back in a week” and so he left.\n\nIt felt odd picking up the hammer after so long, but the drumming of steel felt so familiar with just a single strike. I didn’t get a wink of sleep because I worked through the night on it, never once taking a break. It was as if I was releasing 10 years of suppressed stress with every familiar motion, from the cooling of the heated blade to the pounding of it with my hammer. It felt like heaven once more, because I finally realized the type of blade that I would indeed be proud of.\n\nThe week breezed by and the young man once more showed up at my door. The longsword that I had forged was flawless, my finest work by far. I knew no blade that I make afterwards will compare and that this sword will be my legacy. The blade itself was made of silver while the hilt was made of iron and it was as sharp as it was beautiful. The young man took the sword and he marveled at the light weight of it and balance as he swung it through the air a couple of times to get a feel for it. He nodded his approval and paid me my fee without ever asking me anything about the sword. I guess he will find out soon enough the secret of my sword, “The Lifegiver”.\n\nThat sword will never take a single life, and instead will grant the wielder the power to heal thanks to the herbs I mixed in when making the blade. He should’ve listened when I told him that I am tired of my weapons being used to hurt others, and now they won’t. Never again will another son lose their father because of me and my selfishness.\n", "As the zombies moaned outside his front door, the man sat at his table, looking down at the plans. He knew it could be done. Nobody had ever done it before.This sword would be a work of art. A thump. The zombie was persistent. He'd made sure to upgrade his door into a heavily reinforced steel door. Not that wooden crap everyone else used. This was probably why the adventurer wanted his services. He'd paid in advance, a few gold ingots resting on the side of the table.\n\nAnother thump. It wasn't a very smart creature. The man looked out his window. The moon was just passing the horizon. Soon, the sun would rise, the creatures of the night resting once more. The man moved from his table and walked over to his chest. Opening it up, he saw the mess of items strewn about, no order to anything. He reached in and pulled out the items he needed.\n\nMoving back to the table, he could hear the zombies burning as the sun pierced the sky, rising to its place on top of the world once more. He placed the items on the table, and started crafting the weapon. His client would arrive soon. he carved the wood into sticks, a wooden hilt was generally a bad idea, but he had faith in his skill that the wood would hold better than any metal hilt ever would. A knock rang out, and he'd turned to see the adventurer peering in from behind the open slits in the door. Reaching over, he pulled a lever that activated the doors mechanism, allowing the adventurer inside. Neither one of them saw the monster behind him.\n\nThe hissing came out of nowhere, and within a second the explosion, shooting the adventurer forward, and blowing off the front entrance to the shop. Then the skeletons appeared. Their safety from the sun rested in the treetops surrounding them, the forest just out of reach of the hut. That didn't stop their arrows though. The projectiles flew in through the now opening, piercing the man in the knee, several indenting themselves in the walls, a couple in the adventurers chest.\n\n\"Quick, the sword!\" The adventurer yelled, holding his hand out to the man. He turned back to his table, placing one of the sticks and two diamonds above it in a line, and watched as they melded together, a blue tinged blade of his newest creation shining in the daylight. He grabbed the sword and threw it at the adventurer, who caught it and charged forward towards the skeletons, just as a stray arrow embedded itself in the mans chest. \n\nHe dropped to the ground, feeling the beat of his heart slowly fading. He looked up as the adventurer sliced through the beasts, and as the world grew dark, the man had a smile on his face. The adventurer would save us all....after all, now he had \"Justice\".", "Orlien appeared in my doorway after nightfall, casting a faint shadow from the moonlight into the floor of my shop. The inky black leathers he wore blurred his edges with the night and hid most of his intimidating physique. He was a terrifying sight to behold, and for countless many, their last.\n\nIn the three hundred years I had been making blades, I had not poured my soul into my work such as this. But my age and my own story is a tale for another time.\n\nAs much as my craft was bladesmithing, Orlien's was death. And for as much of my soul that I poured into his blade, he poured as much and more of his hatred. A man this powerful would have power in his blood. I suggested that he provide some for the blade, and he obliged. Without wincing, he took his dagger to his arm and unleashed a steady flow onto the steel as I was folding it with my hammer.\n\nCountless times the steel was folded, adding charcoal dust for strength and flexibility. The dagger was one solid piece of folded steel, the dark and light layers rippled like lightning across the blade, and the handle was precisely fitted to Orlien's hand. I polished and stropped the blade, giving it angry bite. Testing it with my thumb, it effortlessly sliced through, yet somehow the pain it caused was as if it were burning and tearing through my flesh, no doubt the loathing inside Orlien's blood gave the blade this property.\n\nI wrapped the blade in a satchel of leather and handed it to it's master. Etched into the leather was the name I had given my work, \"Animus\", for if hatred could be manifest physical, it would be the object wrapped in his hands. He removed it, and tested the evil edge himself. He wasn't happy, I'm not sure the man had ever known happiness in however long his cursed life was, but he was pleased with my work. After dropping a purse of gold coins in my hand he disappeared into the night, no doubt to find the person that would be the sheath for his new blade.", "My arms burn with the effort of each strike of the hammer on the anvil, as I slowly pound out the form of the tool. The weapon, truly, though none know it but myself and the one who commissioned it. I thrust the glowing metal into the drum of oil to allow it to cool, and wipe my brow, contemplating this strangest of jobs.\n\n\"You are the only one remaining with the skills to make the tool I need, and it must be forged by hand.\" His deep, sonorous voice resonated in my mind. \"I will provide you with as much currency as you need, and any equipment you cannot provide for yourself.\"\n\nMy breath back, I pluck another glowing hot bar from the furnace and begin rhythmically striking it, and thinking. I took up this strange trade as a hobby, learning to craft from an old man who was equally an oddity. An Aberration? That would be the perfect name for this. A strange object made by a strange man for yet another strange man.\n\nI worked on, forming the hilt and cutting it. Binding the hilt to the blade's tang. Wrapping the hilt in leather, and finally taking a laser- the most modern tool he would allow me to use- to etch in the symbols, as well as the sword's name. Odd, it almost seemed to glow. No matter, probably just a trick of tired eyes.\n\nGently, I wrap the sword and set it on the rack, and head for the tube. The mysterious man's starship would arrive tomorrow, and with him, I felt only trouble could follow." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 3, 6, 8, 17 ]	[ "1451504869", "1451512798", "1451515594", "1451513455", "1451498331", "1451497949", "1451497352" ]
	[WP] A cruise ship that once you board you can never get off.	5	[ "So it's a Class three Sealiner. Amelia Earheart is rumoured to have crashlanded right next to one of these babies. Not... ha!... not this one, obviously. That would be impossible!\n\nLet me show you around. Over here is the skeeball. You might think it's just a game for kids, but oh boy! Just you wait. You throw the balls, it goes up into these holes, and then... then!\n\nWhat do you mean, 'then what?'\n\nYeah. Then you do it again. And there's points. Hey, maybe it is a game for kids. Anyway, you want something more adult, we've got everything. Eight bars, there's two nightclubs - we've even got a casino.\n\nWhat's that?\n\nOh, if I had a ducat for every time someone asked me when we'd get to the next port! \n\nA ducat. Ah, right, right. Anyway. Over here, we've got minigolf. A lot of good times had on this course, let me tell you. I played on this very course with Lord Lucan, you know.\n\nWell, duh! Obviously before. I mean. Hah! 'Before?'. You kids. Anastasia Romanov actually - you know what? Never mind. Right over here we've got the bingo hall. It's my favourite. I mean, a lot a new games around, a lot of technology on the ship, but some good ol' fashioned bingo always hits the spot. \n\nOh, if I had a nickel for every time someone asked when we'll reach the destination! Nickels are still a thing, right? I'd be rich! Rich with current, legal tender.\n\nSo, the wifi password is foreverandever, and our concierge is available twenty-four hours a day. We'll have you back to the thirteen colonies before you know it. Any questions before I get back to my post?\n\nAny other questions?\n\nAny others... at all?\n\nAh... I hate this part. Did you notice our gangplanks? Our lifeboats? Our doors?\n\nExactly.\n\nI'll leave you to figure the rest out with the other guests. Our oldest guest, Mr Hoffa over there - he's quite vocal on the subject.\n\nSee you at dinner?", "Dec. 12 1986 - first entry.\n\nFor months ive been on this ship, masturbating non stop. \nThere is no getting off. My penis is but a shade of its former self. I have altered the direction of the ship in search of a new destination. An island. A cure. And end to my suffering.\n\nMarch 2nd 1987 - second entry\n\nWere lost. Lost at sea. My crew is turning on me. My cock is a bloody mess. Literally. Theres nothing left. I will not give up. i will get off.\n\nOct. 7th 2017 - third and finally entry.\n\nI did it. I fucking did it. I jizzed. All over their corpses. I had to cut my balls open and spoon it out but i did it. Weve arrived today. A beautiful new world. I shall claim it. For engIand. I shall call it \"america\".\n\n\" and that was the story of christopher columbus...\" Said the future teacher to the bored students.\n\n\"Any questions?\" She said with her robot lips.\n\n\"Yeah, why are we learning about this shit? Isnt this galaxies away.\" Ghxbtp said.\n\n\"Fuck you ghxbtp.\" Steam shot from the teachers wings.\n\n\"Any other questions?\"" ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1451513924", "1451509477" ]
	[WP] First contact with an advanced space-faring race is made in major cities on the eve of WWII in 1939	3	[ "http://image.slidesharecdn.com/modernworldhistorytextbooksocialtb-140208031911-phpapp01/95/modern-world-history-textbook-social-tb-16-638.jpg?cb=1391830310\n\nChapter 32: World War II and Initial Contact\n\n1. The First Message & It's Cultural Impact\n2. Hitler's Lightning War\n3. Japan's Pacific Campaign\n4. The Holocaust\n5. Arrival of the Ambassadors\n6. Europe and Japan in Ruins\n\nhttp://image.slidesharecdn.com/modernworldhistorytextbooksocialtb-140208031911-phpapp01/95/modern-world-history-textbook-social-tb-17-638.jpg?cb=1391830310\n\nUnit 8: Perspectives on the Present\n\nChapter 33: Foundations of the New World\n\n1. Mild Tensions Between Superpowers\n2. Colonization of China\n3. Colonization of Korea and Vietnam\n4. Ambassadors, Superpowers Unite\n\nChapter 34: A Period of Unease\n\n1. The Rise and Fall of Mahatma Gandhi\n2. Uprisings in Southeast Asia\n3. End of African Nationalism\n4. Failed Colonization of the Middle East & Central Asia\n5. Protests within the Superpowers", "Poznan, United People's Polish Republic\n\nThe man I visited in my journey was on a cot in a gray colored room. His face was stern and had piercing grey eyes. Bartek Nosek held a cane to support his frail body. \n\nWhat was the state of affairs in Poznan on August 30th 1939?\n\nGod, where to start. Everyone knew what was going on, no matter what the government told us, we knew what was coming. The German army was going to jump the border and take Poland. We heard their aerial drills, seen the folks from the immediate border leave their villages. A lot of my neighbors as well fled including many of my friends. Poznan itself wasn't spared from the panic. As soon as people saw the refugees fleeing from the border, the grocery store shops were selling everything they could, cars filled with gas ready to flee at a moments notice. \n\nWhy didn't your family flee?\n\nTo be honest with you, I don't know why we didn't flee. My father must've thought it would've been impossible to get out- my mother denied that war was coming. In a way, I suppose both of them were right in the end. At least, it wasn't the war we all thought was coming.\n\nWhat happened when they arrived?\n\n/I'll come back to this later, I have a good feeling bout this prompt." ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1451519883", "1451517746" ]
	[WP] In a fantasy world, you are a sailor that is exploring the "Unknown Regions". Every day, you document your trip by writing a letter and then release this document to sea in its own bottle. Write one such document.	12	[ "43 Martide, 1301 of the Revenant Era.\n\nI'm scribbling this note furiously so that I can toss it into a bottle and whip it off the ship as quickly as possible. But it's imperative this is written. Imperative! Because we've done it. We've found land! Our first major landmass and it's only taken three hundred days! Our stores were running low and a few men came ill days ago, but for the most part the journey has been smooth.\n\nMany of us expected sea giants, foreign pirates, mermaids, whirlpools, and all manner of natural and unnatural obstacles. That hasn't been the case. There simply isn't a reason, from what we've yet seen, that no ship has yet returned. I, Jacob Stamos, tell you that any steadfast ship with a resolute crew should find themselves able to happen upon land with the proper bearing. I send this note in the case that I'm not blessed with the opportunity to tell the motherland myself, but hope that all goes well.\n\nI beseech the man who reads this to immediately return it to the state for a sum of no less than 50 Wicker Bars so that men may lead follow-on expeditions.\n\nSigned,\n\nJacob Stamos, Imperial Navy\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nI held the letter in my hand, reading it over and over to try and recall the emotions I'd felt at the time. It had been an incredible surge of emotion, tossing the bottle and watching it float away. From there, we'd made our way toward the land mass. It looked ripe for the picking and full of opportunity. The sort of place where you see fruit-bearing trees by the dozens and pigs the size of bears.\n\nUnfortunately, not minutes after I'd tossed the bottle, the ship made impact on some sort of obstacle under the water. We'd later find out it was a reef that had formed a buffer around the land mass we approached. That, paired with the peril of the waters below, meant only two of us made it to land. Myself and one other.\n\nI held the soggy note in my hand. It had shattered the hope I'd clung to for weeks. The beach was littered with my bottles. Every message I'd penned in the last three months could be found here, but I hoped beyond hope that this one had made it. And here, in my own hands, was proof that it did not.\n\nThat night, Jessica committed suicide. She'd dared to hope with me and I thought her strong, but she abandoned me. She swims in bluer waters now. But I.... I knew, at that moment, that I must go on. My message must reach my people, no matter the cost. As long as I lived, the story of me, and of my crew, rested on my shoulders alone. So I walked.\n\nFor days I wandered on my own. The land was forgiving. The wildlife appeared alien to me, but not impossible to understand. I was cautious enough to avoid the fauna, and subsisted almost purely on meat. I wasn't the best hunter and sometimes had to go days between meals. Luckily, I had found a river within the first month had no worries when it came to water.\n\nAfter three months of following the river, the air grew noticeably colder. Leaves turned from green to red, and I knew my time was running out. It was within the first week of autumn that I encountered them.\n\nThe others. Human, like me. But not without quirks. Their eyes were different. Black, where mine were white. Their noses turned upward in a devilish sort of way and they had no hair on their heads.\n\nThe clothes they wore, though.... My, did I envy them upon our first meeting. They dressed in such a way as to make me feel ashamed of myself. I hadn't had a change in attire for what must have been four months, but even if I'd worn a fresh suit I would still be little more than a pet to them in their lavish garments. And it told me so much more about them as a people. I knew, in that moment, that these were an intelligent people. I never once feared for my life, not in a conventional sense.\n\nThey took me in immediately, as curious of me as I was of them. Over the course of months and years we taught one another our ways. I took a Sheidlaein wife and she is with child now, so that I know we share a common ancestor. I speak their tongue fluently and work to become a scholar among them.\n\nMy mission will be completed, though never in my own lifetime. What I have done and continue, to this day, is chronicled every moment of my journey within the pages of this lofty tome. What you've read is simply a sample of this journey, the barest minimum; as much I could relate within the space of the cover. You who read these words know, you who can decipher the \"designs\" on this cover, will be the first to truly understand how I came to this continent. For no man other than myself has ever read these written words in my old language.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBeginning", "Fifth day of Sundtorn, year 215 A.F.\n\nIt's been three weeks now since we left Jakos Island and five of our crew members behind. I still don't get the appeal of the island. I mean, it was a nice place, the locals were quite friendly and the food was delicious, but how can one choose to spend the rest of his life on such a desolated and isolated place when you can sail the Unknown Regions?\n\n\nThere were about twenty-five of us left now after forty years of sailing. For the amount of time we've been gone it's actually surprisingly there are still some of us left. I mean, a lot can happen in forty years. We had casualties, mutinies, desertions and even a short case of the pocks, but somehow we made it this far. I'd like to give myself on credit for that, I am a Healer after all.\n\n\nSo, three weeks since the last time was saw land, small as it may have been. All around us, the waves sway calmly on the wind and occasionally, a brownfish jumps out to greet us. As I'm writing this, one of the sailors attempts to spear the magnificent beast with a mighty throw. A small smile appears on my face as he misses the shot and gets berated by Captain Serath. Brownfish are sacred animals in his religion, claimed to be the embodiments of the God of Guidance; Y'vu.\n\n\nTo my surprise, the brownfish doesn't seemed to be scared off by the attempted murder. He starts circling the ship, leaping into the air every so often and clacking his tongue in a series of loud clicks. As the sailors halt their work to look at the aquatic acrobat, Captain Serath calls me to his cabin. I can see by the look on his face he has some unpleasant news in store for me.\n\n> \n\nMore over at /r/Neite !" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1451566517", "1451544778" ]
	[WP] You are given the option to see how you're going to die. The problem is, every time you finish watching, your death changes, because knowing how you're going to die allows your future self to prevent said death.	4	[ "The streetlights blazed against the harsh darkness of midnight, glazing the damp asphalt in streaks of reflection. It was beautiful, in the calm way darkness tends to be--probably. But Andy's mind was too muddied with exhaustion to appreciate any of it. Aside from the beauty of the green lights which shortened his trip home, that is. \n\nHe barely managed to change out of his work uniform before collapsing. His bed welcomed him with open arms--and soft sheets.\n\n****\n\nSilence.\n\nThere was nothing but silence. All around. No physical objects. Nothing to look at. Nothing to see. Just blaring silence.\n\nSlowly, Andy became aware of a soft clacking, like shoes against marble. But there was no marble. There was no floor. Yet there must have been: he himself had to be standing on something. And if it was footsteps he was hearing, whose? He hadn't taken so much as a single step. \n\n\"They would be mine.\"\n\nA man had strode up next to Andy. An older man, but somehow, he seemed unaged. He was the only other person--or thing, for that matter--visible, but he seemed to be exactly where he belonged.\n\n\"I'm sorry, who are you?\" Andy was startled, but not at all afraid: the man radiated benevolence.\n\n\"Michaelangelo, Keeper of the Gate.\"\n\n\"Keeper of the--\"\n\n\"Just call me Mike.\" He waved his hand, dismissing Andy's confusion. \"You're about to be given a once and a lifetime chance, Andrew. If you so desire, I would like to grace you with the knowledge of how you die.\"\n\nAndy furrowed his brow, shook his head, then sighed. The questions filing into his head didn't seem worth sorting through. So he kept it simple: \"Seriously?\" \n\nMike chuckled, a hearty sound that only added to his kind appearance. \"Yes. I wish to show you how you will die.\"\n\nHe must be dreaming. That was the conclusion Andy came to. And that conclusion was ultimately the thing that lead him to agree. And so they began their walk forward on not-there marble into nothingness. \n\nOr so he thought. But instead of ending up in more silence, Mike had brought Andy into what appeared to be a living room. How they got there was a mystery--the carpeted floor, leather couch, and flat-screen TV seemed to appear out of nowhere.\n\n\"We remodeled recently. An attempt to keep up with the changing times, you could say.\" Mike spoke as if they had just taken a stroll out to his apartment or place of work. He seemed unfazed by Andy's lack of response, not skipping a single beat as he reached for a remote and clicked on the TV. \"Ready?\" \n\nAndy shrugged. \"As I'll ever be, I guess.\"\n\nStatic screamed across the TV, clearing to reveal nothing more than Andy himself--slightly older, but still just Andy--standing behind the register at his own personal Hell of a job. Several minutes of normality passed. \n\n\"I don't know, man. I look pretty ali--\"\n\nBang. Andy whipped his head around, just in time to watch a bullet pierce his forehead. \n\nMike shook his head. \"No, that's not right.\" Another click of the remote and the TV was playing back a different scene, this time of a much older Andy whose life was stolen by a heart attack.\n\nConcern and confusion tugged at Mike's expression. Another click, another scene. This routine was repeated countless times over was felt like only a few minutes but was probably more. Time had faded into the nothingness shortly after Mike first appeared. Watching himself die over and over in so many different ways rendered Andy nauseous. He bent down, fixing his gaze on the floor. But there was no longer plush carpet for him to look at. Instead, he was faced with another image of himself: one of him lying in bed, skin sunken and paled with starvation. \n\nAndy's eyes glazed over with fear. He turned slowly to Mike. \"How long have I been here?\" He had only enough time to catch the flash of shock that enveloped Mike's face before his vision faded to black. ", "Ted reclined in his chair and watched triumphantly as his friend Dale took his most prized invention for a test drive. He tilted his head to glimpse out the window and up to his house at the top of the hill. His wife had made him move his workshop nearly two hundred yards from the house. Being a \"mad scientist\" was keeping the baby awake at night. Dinner would be ready in an hour or so, it was nearly 7PM.\n\n\"Your machine is broken, Ted.\" \n\"What!? What did you do? Did you drop it?\" \n\"No, I mean it still shows the future it's just... broken\" . \n\"What the fuck do you mean \"broken\", how can it be \"broken\" if it's showing you the mother fucking future, Dale!?\" \nDale took a deep breath. \n\"Calm down Ted, I'm not shitting on your invention, it's just that it doesn't really work as intended.\" \nTed straightened his back, narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. \"What exactly do you mean?\" \n Dale was careful with his next words, seeing as Ted was quick to take offense at any criticism of his invention.\n\"Well, it keeps changing... the future, I mean. I looked up what I was going to be doing ten minutes from now, and I saw myself eating lunch, when I looked again, I was having a conversation with you. A conversation very similar to this one.\" \n\nTed sighed, and a smile started to crawl across his face. \"Oh! You had me scared for a minute. That's the whole point of the thing, Dale. You're changing the future. What's the point of seeing the future if you can't change it?\"\n\n\"But I didn't change anything! All I did was use the machine again.\" \n\n\"Don't you get it Dale? Simply by knowing what's going to happen, you changed things. Like, imagine if you saw that you would get hit by a bus tomorrow... you're sure as hell going to look both ways every time you cross the street for the rest of your life.\" Ted's voice trailed off at the end of the sentence as realization hit.\n\nDale's eyes grew wide and he grabbed the headset of the machine. Dialing it forward as far as it would go, he zoomed to the end of his life. He saw himself, at sixty three years old, massively overweight, climbing the stairs at his best friend's house at a New Year's Eve party. Suddenly, the color drained from his face, and he clutched his chest, he tumbled down the stairs.\n\n\"Ok, so that's how I would have died, if I had never used this device again. No more KFC for me, I'll be as fit as a fiddle, and I know I'll live past sixty three.\" Dale said with confidence.\n\n\"Well... you might actually end up dying sooner. You may not make it to sixty-three.\" Ted reached toward the headset, wanting to take a turn of his own.\n\nDale squinted, obviously not following Ted's line of reasoning.\n\nTed continued. \"For example, what if next January you slip on some ice outside the gym, and crack your head. You wouldn't have even gone* to the gym if it weren't for that last glimpse into the future.\"\n\n\"Shit, you're right. Okay, here's an idea. I'll keep watching, over and over, until I end up dying in my sleep in my eighties twice in a row, that way I know I've found the winner.\"\n\n\"Ha! Okay. Have at it, Dale.\"\n\nMuch to Ted's surprise, after only twelve times watching his own death, apparently Dale had managed to secure a recurring death at eighty-five years old, lying in bed surrounded by family.\n\n\"Eighty-five! Beat that, sucker!\"\n\nTed couldn't help but laugh even though Dale had just watched himself die twelve times.\n\n\"Alright, my turn.\"\n\nTed powered on the device and placed it over his eyes. He dialed it forward to the end of his life and it showed him in a car accident at fourty-five.\n\n\"Well, that's no good, what else do we have?\"\n\nHe powered it up again, and dialed forward. This time, the device only showed twelve minutes into the future.\n\n\"What?\" Ted whispered as he kept watching. He saw himself coughing up smoke as his charred body lied on the grass next to his house.\n\n\"This is ridiculous... I'll try again.\"\n\nEleven minutes into the future now, Ted watched himself die in the same manner, moaning on the ground with his skin singed and blistered. \n\n\"What the fuck...Why would I...\"\n\nTed rewinded to the few minutes before his death. He wanted to know exactly what he did to burn to death, and then do the opposite. Ted could see the air waving eerily in front of the stove. A gas leak. His wife Cate, distracted by the baby crying in the next room missed the deadly sign, and when she turned the burner on, the house became engulfed in flames. Thirty seconds, only thirty seconds later Ted saw himself burst through the door, chest heaving out of breath. But it was too late, the house was was a hellish inferno, his wife lay unconscious on the kitchen floor, and his 3 month old daughter was screaming from her high chair in the dining room. Smoke filled the upper half of the room, as he crawled on his hands and knees toward his terrified child. \n\nHe scooped her up and ran out the door, laying her on the cool grass. Her skin was pink, and she was coughing, but she would be okay. Ted took off his coat and wrapped it around his head, in a pitiful attempt to filter some of the smoke out. Rushing back into the blaze, he was hit with a wall of heat and smoke. He could not see his way to the kitchen to find Cate, but he was able to guess well enough. He did not have to have a mirror to know that he no longer had eyebrows. The heat was stifling and his arms were licked by flames as his ran blindly into the room. \n\nHe tripped over Cate's leg as he fumbled his way into the kitchen. Down on the floor on the tile, it was at least fifty degrees cooler, she might make it. Ted grabbed her ankles and dragged her across the house to the door, to keep her from inhaling smoke. The coat Ted wore around his face had fallen at some point, but it was a lost cause. The fire had blistered his eyelids closed. He pulled her until he collapsed on the grass, coughing up smoke.\n\nTed tore off the headset and looked out the window up toward his house, and suddenly a bright orange glow emitted from the kitchen window. \n\n\"Oh God.\"\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1451788403", "1451784229" ]
	[WP] A few people shrieked, two people fell off the bench, one person nearly fainted, half the table gasped, and most of the rest jumped.	2	[ "\"Now ladies and gentlemen!\" The magician declared, bringing his white gloved hands to a slow stop in front of him, with such a flick of the wrist on his wand hand to suggest the call for their attentiom was more of a spell than a request.\n\nThe room - now a photograph of disarray - simmered down to heed his request; jaws rested rolling on the floor and eyelids clung back to the skulls of their owners, who had all come to the same subconcious conclusion that it is of the greatest importance that, from this point on, they refrain from blinking. The Magician's wire black moustache curled up with his mischevious smile as he traced his wand through the air savouring the silence, which was only broken by the faint dripping of blood falling tentatively off of the end.\n\n\"Ladied and Gentlemen I assure you! That by the grace of my power and magic, the man who see before has felt no pain!\"\n\nHe theatrically throws his hands to the side, thrusting them toward the body of his brave volunteer Jeremy - who's blood has now stopped racing out from his head wound and instead expands slowly in a marvelous puddle toward the feet of the Magicians closest spectator - who is unconcious.\n\n\"You've murdered him!\" A voice cried out from the audience whilst the Magician wiped his wand clean of blood and placed down a small number of towels too comically small to adequately deal with the aftermath of his last trick.\n\n\"Oh? And how did I do that?\"\n\n\"I-\" the challenger gasped for words and turned to the statuesque spectators surrounding him for any support whilst the Magician, content in his mopping, gleefully pulled a bouquet of flowers from his sleeve, presenting them to Jeremy. \"You put that wand against his head and he just died!\"\n\n\"I know wasn't it brilliant?!\"\n\n\"Brilliant? He's dead! One minute he's giggling and waving toward his wife and the next-\"\n\n\"Brilliant!\"\n\n\"It wasn't 'Brilliant', you just put that against his head and it exploded. It was like-\"\n\n\"Magic.\" The Magician said, and the challenger hadn't noticed him glide between the audience to stand before him, his top hat hanging from his hand upturned as he stared intently downward. \"You can give whatever you feel is fair.\"\n\nHis free hand shot behind the challengers ear and returned once more seconds later, a large silver coin sitting between two of his gloved fingers, only to disappear entirely into the of his hat when they let it fall.\n\n\"But I would ask for no coppers.\"", "The restaurant was filled with men and women in clean suits and long dresses, blouses that revealed too much skin and shirts that, had they been any tighter, the buttons would have most definitely found their way across the dining hall and into the depths of a shining wine glass sitting on the many tables amongst the chattering mouths and shrieking utensils. \n\n\"How's your steak?\" Yusef asked his date, a beautiful red-haired woman he'd been dating for seven years. \n\n\"Wonderful,\" she replied. \"Chewy and just right. And yours?\"\n\n\"These lips haven't tasted meat this delicious in all my years,\" the fair-skinned man said with a wet smile on his sweaty face. \"Say, Tori, let's play a simple game, shall we?\"\n\n\"Yusi, over dinner?\"\n\n\"This one will be simple, love. Shall we?\"\n\nShe nodded, taking a sip of the chardonnay. \n\n\"Truth, or dare?\"\n\n\"Yusi, we have been together for ages now.\" She wiped her lips with the napkin. \"What kind of game are you playing here?\"\n\n\"Now, now. You must choose one!\" He stuffed another slice of steak into his mouth, chewing violently with a wide smile. \n\n\"If I must...I'll choose dare.\" \n\nYusef swallowed the meat and threw back the entire glass of wine, pushed his chair out from the table with a quick kick of his heel, and threw the table the to side, as if possessed. \n\nA few of the guests shrieked as the table flew across the dining hall, two women fell out of their chairs and landed on their backsides, an elderly man with thick-framed glasses and fake teeth dropped his head on the table and fainted, and the neighboring diners gasped and jumped. Those who remained seated, unphased by the man's psychotic stunt, focused their attention on Yusef, who was now out of his seat, bending on one knee with a small box in his right hand. \n\n\"Tori Gurid, I dare you to marry me?\"\n\nHer eyes glistened wide with excitement and legs trembled underneath the tight blue dress. \"Yusef! You crazy fool. I'm both embarrassed and entirely shocked.\"\n\n\"Tori!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Yusef. Yes! Yes, I will marry you, you crazy idiot!\"\n\nThose around them, those who weren't sprawled on the ground or faint over their plate of expensive cuisine, cheered and hollered. \n\nYusef rose off his knee and leaned forward, kissing Tori on the lips. \n\n\"Yusef,\" she asked.\n\n\"Mhm?\"\n\n\"What would you have done had I chose the other?\"\n\n\"Tori, oh, Tori.\" He laughed. \"Well for starters, I wouldn't have thrown the table!\"\n\n" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1451791737", "1451794144" ]
A friend of mine used this as an interview question, and it became a hotly debated topic amongst his circle of friends - how long will you last?	[WP] In a bare-knuckle, Battle-Royale scenario, how many 12 year old kids can you take down, before they take you down?	2	[ "thats a pretty tough one to answer. if they came at me 1 at a time a could probably go through 8-10, if they all just ran at me and piled on me, then maybe 1 or 2 before they just drag me to the ground for a good ole fashion ground-n-pound", "They drugged me, stripped me of all but my boxer-briefs, and dumped me unceremoniously into the pit. It was there my awareness returned to me, back-down in the grit and dirt. I remember the sun was fading, off into the distant horizon, and I remember torches- lit by unseen hooded figures, as I struggled to rise.\n\nAs far as I could see, I found myself surrounded by walls of oak. Their trunks were primal, not ever stripped of their bark lined the circular form around me, twenty feet high or more. Within their confines, the sands stunk of iron; iron.. and gore. I felt the vileness sink in-between my toes, and my feet dug into the turf; a price for my first uneasy steps. \n\nA chill fell upon the air, as my posture soon solidified, and I made towards the center of the strange prison. What was this place? Who had brought me here, and for what purpose?\n\nAs though my thoughts had triggered some unseen snare, set only of the mind and mental fortitude- a scream was heard- far across the sands. Its horrible shrill drew my attention, as the oak trunks opened, lifting like a gate to allow a single boy forward, from the darkness beyond them.\n\nI was uncertain of what to do, surely this was one of the most- if not the most bizarre of situations I'd ever found myself in, but then the order came: A booming voice shouting to the heavens and hell below. \n\n\"FIGHT!\"\n\nAt that, the boy came for me. His legs flying forward with unbelievable speeds, his arms whirling in uneducated and irrational attempts to throw himself towards my person. Though comical at first glace, it was also intimidating. Before I had realized enough to stop myself, I found I shifted into the long remembered defensive stance, my hands raised and ready. \n\nIt had been years since I practiced the martial arts, settled in for more mundane methods of exercise- but I had not forgotten everything. Though mountain biking and trail hiking had replaced the prior methods of physical exertions I had once practiced, my muscles had not yet lost all of the long instilled training from years upon years of sparring. I remembered how to fight.\n\nBut was that truly what this was?\n\nThe space between us was closed swiftly as the young boy screamed his unholy battle cry, hands curled like claws ready to strike at me. I understood then, clearly.\n\nIt was either him, or me. There would be no in-between.\n\nMy roundhouse kick, backed by a solid frame of two hundred pounds, shattered the child like glass. I felt things that should not shift, do so en masse. It is only now, that I remember that horror of that attack. I felt it mingle with pity, deep pity, as the boy crumpled to the ground, and my shin felt the sting of recoil. The fresh slap of ribcage, crushed to fragment, that act of brutality that I could not take back.\n\nThe boy tried to rise, and I stepped away- unwilling to deliver the final blow. Violence was for the last resort- defending one's self was its only purpose. I had been taught the way of a peaceful warrior, and the thought sickened me. It was wrong... but the boy, nay- the fiend, struggled towards me. Eyes desperate, body tense, muscles creaking in agony. \n\n\"Kill...\" he whispered, \"Must.... Kill... u/jakethesnakebakecake...\"\n\nAnother scream came across the arena, and I turned to see another young boy charging towards me. This one was fat, panting with every step he took in my direction- but like rolling cloud of pre-pubescent rage, he screamed for my demise.\n\n\"So that's how it is huh?\" \n\nI clicked my tongue in irritation as I surveyed the ground around me. Blood had been spilled here, and it gave off a scent that could only be described as death; rotten and corrupted.\n\nThere was no alternative. I knew then that it had only just begun, that mercy, when found- should be given. To do otherwise, would be to cause suffering.\n\nI turned to the injured boy, and acted. A swift twist of the neck, so quick, so simple. The popping of bone, the tearing of nerves. His body came to rest, still and quiet on the sands, and I came to face my next opponent.\n\nThis was going to be a long, long, night." ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1451949323", "1451949497" ]
	[WP] In a world where traffic lights flash random colours at random times but everyone still has to obey normal traffic laws, our hero is crossing an intersection.	2	[ "Nobody's sure what the lights are for or where they come from, but for as long as there've been roads, there have been The Lights. Every culture has a different name for the phenomenon, but anywhere you go on earth, they will look the same. Great spinning discs of rainbow light that fluctuate based on god-knows-what. Above every intersection in the city.\n\nNobody really took note of them until the 1800s, when some scientist decided to try and work out the source of the discs. Since then, nothing's really been found. On occasion, a road gets closed because a disc starts emitting x-rays or microwaves, or the radio gets filled with static because a nearby Light is unstable. But nobody's ever found the source.\n\nI've seen a Light being formed before. It's nothing special: as soon as the first human being uses a new intersection, a faint glow appears overhead and boom, here comes a new disc.\n\nI ignored them as I crossed the street. It was just another day.", "\"All right son, I think your ready. Go ahead and take a right and will head back home.\"\n\nMy nerves were palpable, my sweat visible. But I dare not admit it to David. My first driving lesson was going so smooth and with the exception of parallel parking I felt confident in my ability. But driving on open roads? I didn't even have my permit, I didn't even know if it was legal. But I dare not pass up this chance to prove myself. \n\nI turned out and hummed along the bumpy back road to the west. The sun was setting and had I been the passenger I would have reclined slightly and enjoyed the warm Texas air on my face.\n\nThere were only three intersection between David's office and the house, two had stop signs and one a traffic light. I navigated the stop signs with ease. I stuffed my back, tighten my grip and moved on to the final intersection. \n\n\"Just relax. Nothing to worry about.\" David said, as he patted me on the shoulder. \n\nNothing to worry about?!? Signal intersections were THE only thing to worry about. Ever since that knee jerk reaction from lawmakers to make randomly changing lights to force drivers to pay attention, traffic lights were really the ONLY thing to worry about. \n\nI could see them changing in the distance. Yellow, red, yellow, green, red. Some quick some slow and one lane seemed to be stuck on red. \n\nI slowed my approach and got behind a rather large truck (a safe bet no one would T bone your car) and followed closely behind. Right as he entered, and I began to follow, the green light changed red. I panicked and slammed in the brake. Our heads flew forward and the sounds of horns quickly followed. \n\n\"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.\" I mumbled. \n\nI tried to move forward again but was swiftly cut off from a north bound sports car. I panicked and started jerky movements that inched forward and back trying to free myself from the right intersection. Right when I begin to freeze, I hear the car door close. David had left. \n\n\"FUCK, now what am I supposed to do?\"\n\nAs if in answer to my question, I hear David bellow \"That's enough!\" As he walked across the intersection waving his mammoth hands in the air until the honking ceased and the cars remained still. \n\n\"You. Forward! You wait! You back up!\" David shouted as he directed the cars blocking my path. \n\nOnce my path was clear, he calmly walked back to the truck, sat down and whispered \"your turn\" while motioning forward. \n\nI pulled into the driveway and with a sigh of relief pulled the keys out and handed them to David. \n\n\"You did good bud. Don't let what happened back there get to you, it gets easier with practice.\" \n\n\"Thanks dad.\" \n\nThose words hung in the air for a moment, after all it was the first time I ever called him dad. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "The driver of the vehicle to my right was shielding her eyes against the flashing lights. Said lights were indeed flickering between colors faster than I could remember seeing before. The poor girl, young and innocent-looking, I might add, clearly feared suffering a seizure.\n\nNo one knows what went wrong with the Interlights, as some now call them, but we've tried our best to maintain order despite the issue. Obviously the government is \"working on it\", with their \"best people trying to understand the problem and find a solution\".\n\nI've worked in IT. I know what they really mean.\n\nTo my left, a middle-aged and rushed-looking man in a blue flannel inched bravely a few meters into the intersection. The Interlights shifted to red menacingly.\n\nHe appeared to steel himself and launched forwards, narrowly missing a second car that propelled from the building-obscured right. He safely reached the distant other side and, though I couldn't see his figure, his entire vehicle exhibited a sense of relief.\n\nThe girl to my right whimpered and pouted. She glanced over at me and I nodded knowingly before she patted a restless-looking and more elderly figure in the passenger's seat.\n\nA siren blared. A black form launched from my left, followed by a pursuing vehicle of black and white. And red and blue, reflecting the Interlights that now began to flip-flop between green and orange, as if mimicking the officer.\n\nSuddenly, chaos erupted. The action was enough catalyst to incite pandemonium from all directions as high-speed vehicles rocketed towards the center... all towards the same spot.\n\nMy entire world was consumed by the sound of dozens of horns, all blaring wildly at once. Then, all I heard were metal crunches and the banging clatters of flung pieces of debris.\n\nI dared to peek up at the scene. Wreckage of vehicles and vehicle operators were strewn everywhere, including many hesitant cars still in the lanes on the four sides that were hit when many decided to launch forwards.\n\nI turned off my engine, swung open my car door, and ran out onto the sidewalk. I grabbed the nearest piece of debris and chucked it, hard as I could manage, at the flaring Interlights that appeared to be cackling colorfully in all shades and hues.\n\nMy action spurred a movement in all of the remaining drivers onlooking the wreckage, who almost simultaneously mirrored me. All of a sudden, metal bits were being flung like mad at the Interlights, which began to flicker in an alarmed state in red and orange. One muscular man threw a larger hunk of automobile at the lights, acting as a final effort to tip it over the edge. One light sputtered and burst before the contraption fell to the ground. Soon after, the other three met a similar fate. Looking down the four streets, I could see distant drivers copying our acts of defiance and taking down the Interlights on every road.\n\nOver across the intersection, I noticed some police officers rolling up on motorcycles. Each grabbed a rock and began to throw.\n\nMy smile widened.", "“Say, you want to get coffee? Chinese? Maybe Netflix at my place?” His boots clopped happily on the pavement.\n\nNot on your life, pal. “Um…I’m not so sure that will work for me today,” she smiled broadly. Take the hint and beat it.\n\nPaul (or was his name Ron? Chad? Whatever…) matched the expression, “Oh no problem. How about I get your number and we try some other time.”\n\nHer smile returned, eyes glistening, “Thanks, but I’ve already got a boyfriend.”\n \nPaul’s expression changed from casual to defensive, “Who says you can’t just get coffee with someone? You just seem like an interesting person. I’ll bet a girl like you just plays hard to get to chase away the losers.”\n\nWhat’s with this guy?\n\nAll too consciously, she knew they’d reached the intersection. Stopped. Together. For who knew how long. Why doesn’t somebody do something with these damn street lights? Who runs the city these days anyways, a bunch of twelve-year-olds?\n\nThe streetlights were a disaster. Everybody knew it. Nobody talked about it. There was no rhyme or reason to the “progressive” contraptions. The colors and timing were randomly generated, which “promotes increased driver alertness, thereby decreasing traffic accidents.”\n\nThe silence lingered between them. Paul looked away for a moment, then added, “I’m not a ghost over here, you know. You can’t just ignore me.”\n\nNo, I certainly can’t do that. His bleating continued.\n\nIt was rush hour. The street was busy as ever. She didn’t care.\n\nGod, if you’re there and all, I know I’m not the best all the time. I can’t stand to be by this guy for another second.\n\nHalf closing her eyes, she stepped into the street. The lights stayed the same. Cars zoomed past. \n\nWell...shit. She stepped back onto the curb." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1451972609", "1451973928", "1451975432", "1451975637" ]
	[WP] Write the big climactic plot-twist. No context...just the plot-twist.	4	[ "\"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND\" he screamed. The winds whipped and the clouds had blotted out out the sun. He backed towards the cliff edge, clutching his bag of vital meme crystals. \"You don't have to do this\" I shouted over the howling typhoon. He looked at me in despair and he glanced over the edge: the great ramen sea frothed and foamed, chunks of noodle and onion being dashed against the rocks. \"We can still give the sacrifice, there is still time for Chin Chin to be appeased!\" \"DON'T YOU SEE? IT'S NEVER BEEN ABOUT THE SACRIFICES\". He was surely delusional, after all, it was written many Chromosomes ago that Chin Chin must be appeased by sacrifice. \"IT WAS ABOUT CHEF ALL ALONG\". I dropped to my knees. It couldn't be. Chef had returned", "Her tears disappeared in the rain coursing down her face as she helplessly watched the life drain from his broken body. She could see he was trying desperately to tell her something, and so pulled him nearer to her and listened closely. The words trickled from his lips, barely audible in the storm. \n \n\"Looks like... you're not... adopted... after all...\" \n \nThe chill that ran down her spine had nothing to do with the water soaking through her jacket. Fear and understanding abruptly washed over her sadness, leaving her wide-eyed and trembling. She carefully laid his head on the ground as the last light left his pale eyes. As she slowly stood and turned around she spotted a dark, obscured figure standing in the downpour perhaps thirty yards away. Without another thought, she turned to run.", "“How could you leave me? How could you do this to us?” I shrieked, hands balled into fists, my voice dangerous, annoyed, reeking of all the emotions I had kept bottled up these past few weeks. There he was, and there I was, and I was going to make my stand here, under the softly falling snow, wrapped in a thin sweater, chilled to the bone. \n\n“Please, wait.” He pleaded, his voice broken by a barely held back sob, his hands outstretched, almost begging. He was in a thick jacket, and then hand reaching out to me was wrapped in leather gloves. He had always had the foresight I often lacked. That’s why we had been perfect for each other, we had covered for each other’s mistakes. \n\nTears began to well in my eyes. That’s why when we had split, it had been explosive, fiery, and hurtful. They had known each other’s weaknesses perfectly. “I’ve waited long enough. You left me for too long! This ends now.” \n\nHe lowered his voice, and his voice steadied. The bastard’s mouth twisted into a smile. \n“Yes, it does.” he said, as he suddenly slammed his hand onto a button I hadn’t seen. \n\nSuddenly, fruits came raining hard and fast, dropping on his head and mine. Oranges, cherries, grapes, and our favourite, apples. Falling with the gently snowflakes was a cornucopia of sweet, delicious, ripe fruits. My mouth gaped open. He had saved the village, given back the things that had been stolen away. He had saved her. Everything made sense to me now, all the things that he had done the past few months that hadn’t made any sense at the time. He had done it for her. All of it, for her. \n\nI ran forward and hugged him. Johnny Appleseed had saved Christmas. " ]	[ 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1452029694", "1452024537", "1452026459" ]
	[WP] Someone finds their own corpse	17	[ "I stepped out, dizzy and dehydrated, shielding my eyes from blinding bright lights. My head was spinning like a carousel as I tried to find a place to sit down and re-arrange my senses. A grim looking chair, with metal cuffs on the arms, and an ungodly looking metal thing jutting out from the top had to suffice. I slumped into it, clutching my head, breathing deeply. I didn’t think too much about what the device I sat in was for. I didn’t really think about anything at all, to be honest. It took a minute for me to actually start looking around and start to comprehend my surroundings. White, sterile walls, quiet beeps and whirrs, strange devices strewn about the room, Pieces of paper, with frantically scrawled notes strewn about the tiled floor. \n\nI was in the centre of a genius’s workspace.\n\nRemoving my hand from my head, I stood up, walking around, trying to find some substantial evidence as to why I was here. Something was missing. I felt that if I saw one little bit of information, one tiny thing, I would figure out what was happening. Or, more importantly, who I was. \n\nIt was by this point I realised that I was stark naked, and quickly grabbed a towel hanging off a table on the right side of the room to save my embarrassment.\nAfter I wrapped the towel around my waist, I paused for thought. ‘Why would I be embarrassed? There’s no one here.’\n\nBut, certainly, there was someone here earlier. A cup of coffee, still steaming, sat on the table. A Computer on the opposite side of the room was switched on, prominently displaying a document containing a wall of text. I decided to investigate further. Sitting at the computer, I scrolled through the text, which seemed like a sort of speech that one would present to an audience, and, through the eloquent wordings and descriptions, I figured out two things. One, this room belonged to a scientist. Two, they were on the verge of a breakthrough. This breakthrough in particular interested me, partly due to my curiosity, but mostly due to the way they described it as “The most astonishing breakthrough in scientific history.”\n\nSuffice it to say, I wanted to know what was at work in this den of science. Before I walked back to the table, to take a look at some of the documents, I looked back to where I entered the room, and proceeded to kick myself for not looking before. A giant, steel, behemoth of a machine met my eyes. Two pods, each with a door, were connected to a huge box of blinking buttons and flashing lights. One pod, presumably mine, was already open, with the dark, chrome interior being fully illuminated. The other pod was still closed. \n\nAfter taking my good look at the machine, I turned to the table, picking up a note with copious amounts of equations, underlinings and encircled passages scattered across the page. Not one thing pointed to what the ‘breakthrough’ might be. Page after page, only numbers and calculations met my eyes.\n\nI was on the verge of giving up, until I noticed a whiteboard next to the computer. Two big words made everything very clear.\n“Cloning Experiments.”\n\nAnd there it was. There was the answer I was looking for. I, or should I say, they, had managed to clone themselves, and I was the result. Scientific breakthrough indeed!\n\nI looked back at the great machine. The second pod was still closed. Jogging towards it, I smiled, gripping the handle, and pulling open the door, readying myself to greet whomever was inside. \n\nDead, empty sockets. Grey, peeling skin. Thin, loose hair. \n\nI was dead. \n\nI’d failed miserably.\n", "It didnt feel like me. I stared into those lifeless eyes and looked with contempt the wrinkled, dry body, and saw something. I knew it was me, although I hated that it was. The hair was grey and long. The only question in my mind when I saw me was, was I really that old?\n\nSeeing myself dead made me think. I thought back on my life, and reminded myself of all my deeds, good and bad. I reminded myself of my first love, the way her eyes lit up, and starting into them warmed my heart. I reminded myself of the time I graduated, watching the pride on my fathers face, flood over him like the ocean tide. I recalled going on vacation with my closest friends, and spending the warm summer nights out in the open, gazing at the stars. And as I recalled this, it was almost as if my body before me slowly returned to life.\n\nBut it was many years ago. The bitter thought stood out among the otherwise joyful mess in my head. And slowly, the small bit of life that I had seen, faded again. It was so long ago since I even spoke to my friends. My parents were long gone from this world. Suddenly, these happy memories didnt feel as happy. They reminded me of all that I had once had, all that I've since lost.\n\nI am alone!\n\nI didn't like the way my body stared back at me. Every second I looked into those faded eyes were filled with grief. I took it out to my backyard and had it burried.\n\nNow I lay here in the cold, dark place that is my property, and I wait. I wait for the hunger and thirst to consume me, and take the last bit of pain away. After all, all I saw in the mirror was my own corpse, although I didn't want to recognize it. Untill I did.", "Yesterday was my graduation, the day where all of my life finally comes together and everything starts to make sense.\nAll of my friends and acquaintances went there own way.\nEverything moved so fast.\nsix months came and passed.\nPathetic.\nI mean i knew that I didn't have a plan.\nI usually didn't need one.\nI can see all of my friends moving on, and they're just as lost as me\nIt seems like everyday since graduation, I've let more and more of my self fade with their memories.\nInitiative finally set itself ablaze in my heart, knowing who I was again I could once again give myself to art.\nAs I wrote my final goodbye, I looked in the mirror and saw my corpse leaving me behind.\n", "Darkness. Pain in the lower back. A faint electric humming. Then, that dark reddish nothingness which you see when you close your eyes.\n\n“Canmmm you heaar me? Wakeywakey.”\n\nThe eyelids are stuck together. Everything’s numb. Something’s missing.\n\n“Can you please move your eyes to the left to indicate that you can understand my voice?” You move your eyes to the left. “Alright, that‘s an audio-visual confirmation of success. Sew, can you read me the …” The Audio breaks off. Something’s missing.\n\nYou remember how you left your house in the morning, just a little too late. It’s the holidays, they always make you feel a slight depression when you have to go back to the regular day-to-day. The depression in turn, makes you hit your snooze button a bit more often, leading to the situation where you bust out your front door in a rush, crossing the street without looking left or right. Was that it? No. You remember getting home after work. Relaxing for a few hours with the VR, hitting the sack early, and plugging in the ConsBU system.\n\nA sharp pain in the back of your neck disturbs your train of thought. It makes you clinch your fist and contract your leg muscles. The numbness is gone. Something’s still missing.\n\nYou hear a door open and close. Someone is in the room. You pry your eyes open. You get blinded. It hurts. You close them again.\n\n„Hehe, yes that still hurts, doesn’t it? Let me give you something for that.” You feel fingers touching your face. Your left eye gets opened forcefully and something cold drops on it. You close your left eye. The fingers open the right eye, repeat the procedure. You feel a tear running down your cheek. “Just keep them closed for 30 seconds, it will contract your pupils.“\n\nYou feel a warm rush stream through your body, making everything feel like soft pillows. “It’s possible you feel some pain. Your new host has had some damages. We don’t exactly know what has happened to it. Had to implement a synthetic pulse-less heart. In fact, we don’t even know its original owner. Uh sorry, I’m not supposed to say host. Body I mean. New regulations, helps customers, uh patients, to identify with their new body more quickly.“\n\nYou blink. Your eyes are watery. The room is bright, sterile, and very blurry. You cannot make out any details. You blink. You recognize the ConsBU doctor standing to your left. „Well, well, we have a quick one here. So, let me show you your new face, hehe.” The doctor grabs a mirror, holds it in front of your face. You blink again. You stare into your own eyes.\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1452086073", "1452091870", "1452066142", "1452068074" ]
(Or "him")	[WP] "I can bring her back… for a price."	19	[ "I felt the car collide with me before I ever saw the headlights. Glass shattered from my right as metal bent and twisted with every tumble we took down the grassy knoll. We landed right side up, the interior a shining mixture of glass and blood. \n\nMary's eyes were locked on to me from the passenger seat, and I could just barely see the wedge of the window shrapnel sticking out from her neck. A dark red streak ran down her throat, across her seatbelt, and onto her faded blue jeans. \n\nI scrambled to unbuckle. \n\n\"No. No! Hey, hey, hey. Mary! MARY! No God no!\" I cried out in anguish. I felt her neck for a pulse, trying to ignore the sticky substance that now painted my hands. There. It was faint, but there was a pulse. \n\nFumbling, I felt for the keys and tried to turn the ignition over, my only thoughts on a hospital, but it wouldn't start. Again. Nothing. Again. Nothing.\n\nThe light from the other vehicle shone over the crest of the hill. I quickly ran up the hill, looking for the driver. He was in his car, his neck bent backwards by the force of the blow, yet still alive. I knew what I had to do. As fast as I could, I raced to my car, gently pulled Mary out, and went back to the other driver. Laying Mary in the back seat, I took off my shirt and wrapped it around her neck, hoping to stop the bleeding. I knew I shouldn't move the driver, but I had to get help. I moved him to the passenger seat, and commandeered his vehicle. The first house, I told myself. That's where we would call for an ambulance.\n\nDown the dark country road we drove, and I scanned left and right, looking for anyone, anything that might help. Finally we came upon an old house, Victorian in appearance. As I ran to the door, the porch light came on. An older man stepped out, maybe 60 in age. His frizzled black hair, with the softest streak of grey, looked like he just got out of bed, but his attentive stare from behind his thick framed glasses indicated he was wide awake.\n\n\"Who is there?\" His accent was different, maybe slightly Germanic?\n\n\"Please, I need help. I have two gravely injured people in my car and th-\"\n\n\"Quickly, bring them inside! I will go get my medical bag!\" He shuffled away, leaving the door wide open. I carried Mary in first, leaving her on the red floral couch of the living room covered in my jacket, and brought back the other driver and laid him on the thick wooly rug that covered the dusty hardwood floor.\n\n\"How long have they been injured?\" The old man's voice beside me made me jump. He was peering at them as he put on gloves.\n\n\"Um maybe 15 minutes? Twenty?\"\n\n\"Uh-huh, let me see...\" He surveyed them both, poking here and there, taking readings of vitals, and examining wounds. Finally, he looked up at me.\n\n\"Which one is yours?\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"They are both not with you. Which one is yours?\"\n\nI pointed to Mary. \n\n\"Her,\" I said.\n\n\"Well,\" the man began, wiping sweat from his brow. \"I can only save one of them in the time I have. They are both so close to death.\"\n\n\"I have to choose? What the hell man...\"\n\n\"If you do not choose, they both die.\"\n\n\"Well...\" I glanced at the driver. \"Who has a better chance?\"\n\n\"The girl.\" The old man replied almost instantly. He then stopped and pondered a moment. \"Yes, the girl has a better chance.\"\n\nSilence hung in the air.\n\n\"Then save her.\"\n\n\"Of course. Now, I can bring her back...for a price.\" He was now looking directly in my eyes.\n\n\"A p-price?\" I stammered. Money was tight, but Mary was worth every penny in the world to me.\n\n\"Yes. No, not money. I want something.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"That man's body,\" he declared, pointing a thin finger at the other driver.\n\n\"What the fuck? Are you crazy?\"\n\n\"No boy, I am not crazy!\" The old man grabbed my shirt. \"He will die regardless, and if you want the girl saved, you must let me have his body and tell no one.\"\n\nI looked at him, then at the driver, then at Mary. I nodded, knowing this secret would never be revealed.\n\nThe old man released me as soon as I gave consent, then took the other man from the floor, down the hall, and descended in to the basement with him. He came back up with several bags of blood.\n\n\"Which is her type?\"\n\n\"A positive, I think.\"\n\nHe worked feverishly, removing all the glass, stitching her up, and pumping new blood in to her. His eyes would frequently avert to the cellar door, but his hands never left her wounds. I watched from the doorway as he worked, praying she would live.\n\nAfter a while, he called me over. I cautiously approached her.\n\n\"She is well. Her pulse is steadily increasing. Be cautious when moving her.\" He got up and walked to the doorway. \"You are done. I must now ask you to leave while I clean up.\" \n\nI picked up Mary, expressing my thanks, but he waved me off. I took her to the car, and I heard her gently exhale. After I placed her in the car, but couldn't find my jacket. I searched all over, but it wasn't in the vehicle. An image came to mind of Mary on that floral couch, covered in my jacket. \n\nI raced back inside, but the jacket wasn't where she once laid. I looked in the foyer, the kitchen, and the bathroom, but it wasn't there either. I ran up the stairs, checking every room and closet, but I didn't see it. Nor did I see the old man. Then I heard him. The old man screamed from the basement.\n\nI ran down the stairs, wrenched open the cellar door, and flew down the steps. I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight that came before me. The other driver lay on the floor in a pool of blood, he chest ripped open, ribs sticking up with violent edges. The old man sat in a high swivel chair with a spool of thread behind him on a desk, which was otherwise covered in old faded pictures of military buildings, hospitals, and tanks. In his hands was a faintly pulsing heart. The old man turned a bit, and in the dim candlelight I could see his body was covered in crude stitches. Multiple incision marks left deep white scars on his body. I watched in horror as he cut his body open, removed two of his own ribs, and placed the other driver's heart in to his aged body. I gagged, and the sound of my repulsion got his attention.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" He stood up, and I could see my jacket on the back of his chair. \"You must not be here! You cannot leave this place alive!\" \n\nThe old man came after me, his chest still open, with a bloody scalpel in his hand. I turned and flew up the stairs, slamming the door behind me, and locking it. His hands pounded on the door, his voice called out to me, but I knew I had to call the cops. I recalled the phone upstairs, and ran to it.\n\nAs I entered the bedroom and grabbed the receiver, I stopped and looked around. The same dusty, faded pictures lined the walls. Picture of a man with dark hair and glasses in a lab coat, working on patients. No...not working. Torturing. He held scalpels in some pictures, battery leads in others. All of the patients were crying out in pain. Every picture in that room told a different story, yet all the same. Finally, I came to a dresser. I pulled open the drawers to see medals and ribbons in the top most. The second of the three drawers contained a neatly folded coat. I pulled it out, and saw the Nazi emblem sewn on to the sleeve. Throwing it aside in disgust, I pulled open the last drawer.\n\nIt contained a folder and a box. I opened the folder first, and read the files. They told of experiments done by the Nazis in the 40's, of torture and dissection. The old man was a lead scientist, trying to discover ways to prolong life. Ignoring the pounding from the cellar, I read on. The Nazis had developed a way to harvest organs from the nearly dead to help prolong the life of an individual. The only flaw was that the organs would not last as long in a new host body, and had to be replaced every few years. The last document in the folder was a list of dates, many of them more recent. \n\n3 Jan 1995, one man, liver \n29 Dec 1997, one woman, heart \n18 Nov 2001, one man, eyeballs, one woman, one kidney \n9 April 2008, one man, heart \n21 May, 2009, one man, heart\n\nI threw the folder aside and opened the box. In it was a gun. I took it and checked the magazine. Two rounds. The pounding from the basement grew louder.\n\nI calmly walked down the steps. I grabbed the handle and the pounding stopped. I racked the slide. Unlocked the door. \n\nI aimed the gun and pulled the trigger twice.", "“So will you do it?”\n\n“I can bring her back….for a price” he was saddened by this “You will need to do as I say”\n\n“Okay, but promise me you will bring her back” said his friend strung out of his mind on a cocktail of drugs that would have killed anyone else.\n\n“Tom, listen to me. This is serious; you can’t keep doing this. You’ll kill yourself” Tom used to be so bright and cheerful, but nowadays he was a shadow of who he used to be.\n\n“No….No….” Tom was trying to get up off the floor of the washroom, holding onto the toilet for support he slipped on the tile and fell down again “Uhg…I need to see her again” he heaved into the toilet bowl.\n\nThe room was empty, but the sound from the music that the band played vibrated off the walls and made a dull throbbing against his skull. He took a step back and looked down at his friend ‘Maybe I should call Jen’ he decided against it. Talking to Tom’s ex-wife will only make the situation worse.\n\nTom leaned against the stall and was staring off into the distance. His face blank, “I know that you can’t do anything to bring her back Ray” he said it as more of a statement. \n\n“Actually there is something I can do” I don’t think he’ll forgive me for this, but it needs to be done “You know for that I’ll need you to lay low for a while, if the guys who took her knew that you sent someone after them they’ll come after you too”\n\nTom looked up now, his face had a tiny bit of hope on it. “What? You can?” he got up off the floor, steadying himself using the door.\n\n“Yeah. Come on.” Leading the way out to the car through the hordes of people in the bar, everyone moved out of their way for the huge guy and his friend. Paying Toms’ tab and apologizing to the barkeep on his behalf he led the both of them out to his car.\n\n“Leave your car. I’ll take you to the safe house” Tom stayed silent the whole drive. And when the car finally stopped he looked outside at the two men waiting outside the car.\n\n“Who are they?” Tom questioned, still disoriented from his high.\n\n“Friends. They’ll keep you company till I return with Sarah” getting out of the car and walking to the other side, opening the door to pull Tom out, “take care of him, he’s a good guy” he spoke to the two men behind him. They only nodded, having seen their fair share of good guys who fell on hard times.\n\n“So when will you be back with Sarah! I just can’t wait to see my baby again!” a sudden burst of excitement from Tom, “tell her I miss her a lot and that I’ll see her soon, okay?”\n\n“Yeah, I’m sure she misses her daddy too” this is bad. We can never go back to being friends whichever way this turns out. “Now remember you cannot leave this place until I’m back, okay?”\n\n“Wait…isn’t this….” Tom had turned around to look at the tall building of the Midtown Veterans Rehab and Counseling Centre “Ray….is this place really secure?”\n\n“It is very secure. Guards around the clock and they have a pool too” he could not look him the eye “I’m off. Don’t cause too much trouble”\n\nHe got into his car and waved to Tom who did not wave back. His mind went back to the good times. The barbeque where all their friends met and the kids played around. The whole team used to be there, a break away from when they were behind enemy lines risking their lives.\n\nHe thought back to when Sarah first fell sick, Tom took time off because he could not focus on the job with what was happening back home. The whole team had shown up for the funeral, and that was when they knew Tom was lost. His mind could not comprehend the fact that there was nothing he could do to save Sarah from cancer and instead his mind constructed the story of her being taken by the enemy. He had tried going hunting for these people and this was when his wife left him.\n\nTom was a good soldier, he believed he was saving people by shooting the problem, but he could not save Sarah. It was too much for him to handle.\n\n\nTom looked on as Ray drove off.\n“Sir, we need to go inside” the man to his right spoke.\nHe exhaled deeply ‘Yeah….lets go’\n", "Finally.\n\nAfter hours of searching the barren desert, I had finally found that rusty old tavern. The night was dark and full of dust, but a neon sign hung over the tavern's doors, that read \"Mia's Pub.\" I hadn't seen lights like that in years. In the first few weeks since God had forsaken us, most of the world's power went dry. \n\nBut never mind that. I brought my car to a stop and checked the backseat. She still lay there, as if she were asleep. There was still enough time to restore her. I grabbed my two pistols from the passenger seat, gave her a good luck pat, and stepped out of the car.\n\n\"Hey, you ain't supposed to be here--\" one of the goons by the door started. But he didn't have time to finish before I blasted him to hell with my .45. Two more cronies stepped out, but hadn't had time to think before they, too, met their end. \n\nI busted through the doors. Three men stood near a table in the back. The drew their guns. Fuck. I fell to the floor, and crawled beneath a table, narrowly avoiding the barrage of bullets. After a moment or two, I hopped back up and popped two of the men. But the other one was too quick--he nabbed me right in the shoulder. \"Asshole!\" I screamed. I fell back beneath the table. More bullets careened over head. \n\n\"Don't just stand there, go over and kill him!\" A raspy voice demanded. \n\n\"Yes sir,\" the henchman said. Footsteps slowly approached my hiding spot underneath the rear table. Fuck this guy. With every bit of energy I could muster, I grabbed the table with my good arm and flipped myself over to the other side. The goon had no idea what just happened. Before he could aim his gun I capped him straight between the eyes. His body fell to the floor with a satisfying thud.\n\n\"Well. Good job.\" The raspy voice came from across the bar. An old man, hunched over, slowly stood up from his seat. \"I suppose I'm the man you're looking for?\"\n\nMortimer. \"Yeah,\" I said. I pointed my gun at him. \"I have a. . . favor to request of you.\"\n\nMortimer laughed. \"After you killed six of my men? And have a gun pointed at my face? Why would I want to help you?\" \n\n\"Because if you don't, I'll kill you.\"\n\nMortimer's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of rage. He raised an arm and the pistol flew out of my hand. \"Don't make me laugh, boy\", he said, with disgust dripping out of each word. \"I know you're here to save that girlfriend of yours in your backseat. What kind of witch doctor do you take me for? I could have killed you five miles ago with a strike of lightning.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you?\"\n\n\"Because I enjoy moments like these, where I get to look a son of a bitch in the eye and tell him just how fucking insignificant he is.\" He walked towards me. As his face came out of the shadows, horrible mutilations revealed themselves. This \"man\" wasn't a man at all, but a monster.\n\n\"I know your type,\" Mortimer continued. \"You act like you're some hero of the wasteland, coming to kill all the 'bad guys.' But you're just as evil and selfish as me.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"I will always stand above you and your men.\" \n\n\"Fine then.\" A sly smile formed on Mortimer's broken face. \"You want me to bring her back? I can. For a price.\"\n\n\"NO!\" I shouted. \"There should be no price! It was your kind that killed her--\"\n\n\"There is always a price!\" he shouted back. His voice was much stronger than mine, and it reverberated throughout the tavern for what felt like minutes. \"I will bring her back. But my stipulation is this: you can never see her. You can never touch her. You can never even know of her. You'll have to forget that she ever existed. But she will live.\"\n\nI didn't even think about it. \"No.\" I said. \n\nMortimer laughed. \"Exactly. You don't care about her. You only care about you. You want her back. You want to be with her. Look around here, boy. This place, this world, is Hell! And Hell ain't no place for a pretty lady.\" Silence filled the room for several moments. \"I think I'll kill you now.\" \n\nBefore Mortimer moved a muscle, I pulled my second pistol out from the holster on my back. \"Predict this, bitch!\" I screamed as I unloaded six shots into his crumbled face. His body fell to the tavern floor. \n \nI guess I'll find another witch doctor. I kicked open the tavern doors and climbed back into my car. I started the engine and headed back down the way I came. \n\nMaybe Mortimer was right. Maybe I am a selfish asshole. But this world was Hell. And Anabelle--she made it Heaven. \n\n\n ", "The bar was the kind of place he'd have walked straight past, don't turn your head, don't look at the drunks lying in the gutter outside fumbling for change that would be turned into beer that would be turned into piss. This side of the town, the lawkeepers stopped trying. Let them fight. Let them bleed away and maybe then the lawkeepers would come in from the sides.\n\nThe bar had been built with a view over the new sorghum fields the colonists had first planted when they landed on this little rock. Now it looked out over a brothel. Dirt gave way to filth. Dionise could feel the eyes watching him from the alleys where the glowlamps didn't quite reach.\n\nThe door to the bar cracked open, one more drunkard spilling out into the night amidst a sliver of light and Di jumped, following the door before it could shut out his thoughts of just walking on.\n\n\"You got money?\" the bartender called the moment Di stepped over the threshold. Di just nodded dumbly.\n\nThe place smelt of mildew and pine, the byproducts of whatever particular flavour of whiskey they were distilling in this place, and it had leached into every surface. Di asked for a beer and rubbed at the rim before taking a swig.\n\n\"I'm looking for Rota,\" he tried to say quietly, leaning across the bar but only succeeding in feeling the bare flesh of his arms stick to the wood.\n\n\"Rota don't like to be disturbed. Least of all by a spaceboy like you.\"\n\n\"I can pay.\"\n\n\"An oct.\"\n\nEight chits was over a weeks worth of rations and a large portion of Di's remaining cash. He pulled out his card, spun through the digits and flipped the barman his fee. The barman just looked at his display. Transferred.\n\n\"That's your man,\" he finally said, jerking a thumb towards the back corner. Di went to move but the barman grabbed his wrist, slick with sweat. \"Word of advice spaceboy, don't pay what you can't afford.\"\n\nThe glowlamp above the last table was dying, the lights inside moving lethargically. It looked like malnutrition and for one moment Di considered asking the barman for some ammonia and a funnel.\n\n\"Sit,\" the voice said, breaking Di out of his thoughts.\n\n\"I can fix your lamp.\"\n\n\"What makes you think it's broken?\"\n\n\"It's dying.\"\n\n\"Sometimes a thing dying doesn't mean it's broken.\"\n\nThe man lit up a cigarette. The old kind, leaves wrapped in paper, and took a long drag, the small tip glowing briefly in the gloom. He tapped the ash, collecting a little pile in the centre of the table.\n\n\"Start at the beginning,\" the man said.\n\n\"My daughter, Kay. She joined the Navy, pay for school and all that, I don't make much since her mother...\" Di skipped the backstory. \"She finished basic, top of her class my girl, and got put on a cutter. The Melville. Three year out-and-back round the Cambridge worlds. Sent me packets every month.\"\n\nDi stopped, took a breath of the smoke-filled air and found his lungs clutching. This world was trying to kill him, but nothing hurt as much as thinking about his baby girl. The man didn't move. The ash collected on his cigarette, growing towards his fingers like a cancer.\n\n\"The xo sent the notification. Single-way vid. 'Your daughter was killed in a tragic accident during a routine training exercise.' Nothing. Not even his condolences.\"\n\n\"Sounds like exactly what it is.\"\n\nDi took a swig from his drink, letting the courage bubble forth before putting a stripscreen on the table and hitting play. The video was grainy, the image compressed into two dimensions to show a dirt-streaked face with the same features as her father.\n\n\"Dad, I hope you get this. I can't tell you where I am. They're looking for me. The whole damn fleet. I need you to do something Dad. I need you to find...\"\n\nThe video cut out in a garble of static. A constellation of stars flashed across the screen before the screen faded to nothingness, the chipped wooden table showing through.\n\n\"I got that three weeks after she died. Timestamp said it was sent that day. I had a friend run the stars through some stellar maps. She sent this from Pyre.\"\n\n\"Bullshit,\" the man said, replaying the video, only this time muting the sound. He watched the girl speak, the fear in her eyes. She turned her head to look off screen, some nasty plasma scarring stretching across her neck. And there they were again. The stars. Pyre's sky.\n\n\"You've been there,\" Di said, tapping a finger against the back of the screen. \"You fought on Pyre.\"\n\n\"It's a barren world. If your daughter is there, she's already dead.\"\n\n\"Not Kay. Not my girl. She's too smart for that.\"\n\nThe man stopped at a timecode, looking in her eyes. Fear. Tiredness. But anger, righteousness burning brightly behind it all. She'd found something. Something worth dying for.\n\n\"I can bring her back,\" he said. He stubbed the cigarette out into the table, the last ambers flaring and dying. \"For a price.\"\n\n\"Anything.\"\n\n\"Good. You'll need that desperation,\" he said.", "\"I can bring her back... For a price.\"\n\n\"Of course, of course. You'll get your filthy credits.\"\n\n\"Naah... Credits...\" said the hooded man, \"...Credits won't do.\"\n\n\"You're one peculiar fella, ain't ya? Ain't heard no one refusing this here card, worth a million creds.\"\n\n\"...as I said, credits are not enough. I need something else...\"\n\nHis broken voice started to sound more and more serious. I expected him to be the same bounty hunter trash, scrounging the Quadrant for a hundred creds, willing to crawl in the swamps of Vela Alpha for some renown. \n\nHe wasn't. As he was wandering around my small, round office, carefully observing my diplomas, he suddenly spoke. \n\n\"Zwiling Weintraub. Army veteran. I'm sure you have something of value for me...\"\n\n\"What? Land? I got plenty of it, across so many planets. I can hook you up with...\"\n\n\"Not land, you moron! sighhhh Here. Read my work contract. Payment is specified.\"\n\nHe pulled a yellow, old paper, slightly burned on the sides. He carefully unfolded the corners. He handed me the paper. The terms and conditions, including the payment. He wanted my soul if I wanted him to bring her back. \n\n\"Well...? Are you content?\"\n\n\"Why would you need my soul for a simple recovery job?\"\n\n\"Because, you see, it's not as simple as you think... Your daughter is very evasive.\"\n\n\"H-How do you know I called you to retrieve my daughter?\"\n\n\"I have, friends in very, very high places.\"\n\nMy initial feeling of repulsion for that man quickly turned into fear and uncertainty. My daughter fled, going God knows where. I needed the best of the best to find her and bring her back to safety. For 5 years so many failed. I had a feeling he would succeed.\n\nNow, how he knew about Lily, I still don't know. He did freak me out though. I was going to laugh. I was going to call him a shithead and kick him out of my office. But, I didn't. I somehow knew he was serious. So I played along. \n\n\"Okay. Where do I sign?\"\n\n\"Here. With red ink, please.\"\n\n\"Uhuh. Here. I trust you'll find her and bring her back, yes?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nThat grin is something I'll never forget. His perfectly white teeth being the only things visible in the darkness that was cast over his face by that hood of his. \n\nBut, he did his job. She is here now, safe and sound. And I'm glad. Not only because she's here, but because he basically did it for free. \n\n&nbsp; \n\n\nI didn't gave him anything because I didn't have anything. \n\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 2, 5 ]	[ "1452086806", "1452090705", "1452093808", "1452090145", "1452080448" ]
	[WP] A large meteorite falls in the middle of the ocean causing little damage but creating a whole new set of islands. You are sent there as part of the exploration team. When you arrive, you cannot believe your eyes.	14	[ "This is my chance. Out of all the journalists in the world, I was one of the chosen to participate in the exploration of the Delta Archipelago. I can finally get my name out there. James Carter, documenter of the unexplored. First. Contact. Cheesy, I know, but it still sounds awesome, it's like being a real-life Indiana Jones. I can see the islands just up ahead; I can see awesome. The whirring of the blades could not contain the beat of my heart - all I feel is pure excitement. \n\n\"We are about to approach Delta, please prepare for drop off.\" I heard through my headset. I was already trying to get my seatbelt off.\n\n\"Whoa there. Hold your horses.\" Sergeant Reynolds grasped me on the shoulder. \"We don't want you causing a fatality report this early, do we?\" He wasn't joking. I could feel his eyes pierce me even behind those aviators.\n\nWe circled the drop zone and prepared for exit. I could already feel the adrenaline; not only was this my shot at the big-leagues, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. When the 75 islands emerged, satellite imagery showed that they had formed a 'cross' shape and that there were distinct 'monoliths' made of pure diamonds in the centre of each island. Right in the centre. This was more than weird; this could not occur naturally no matter how you slice it. Even weirder... during further analysis of infra-red, x-rays, sound wave - the whole shebang - they concluded that there were life signals within the 'monoliths' of diamond. And now I was going to see them. Aliens.\n\nOur team was the first to arrive to the archipelago, choosing the central Island within the archipelago as our destination. Each Island was around 100 kilometres squared but the terrain made it possible to land right next to the monoliths. We were told that this event would not go all 'Independence Day' on us, that the monoliths were safe and that the probabilities that any life encountered would be dormant are high. Some part of me wishes that probability was much lower. Exiting the helicopter, I could see how truly 'special' the people I accompanied are: you could tell the scientists a mile away from their notepads and hilariously huge bags for equipment, the military officials were obvious as they always wore their esteemed uniforms and the special ops guys even more so - all clad in black and decked out in enough firepower to kill a small island. The monolith calls and I'm ready to answer. \n\nLooking at it closely it truly is an imposing figure... It almost calls to you, asking you to hold it. It almost feels like it's coming closer to you the more you look at it-\n\n\"Son! You better stop moving.\" I could hear the Sergeant whisper from the back of my head. \n\n\"Sir, his movements are odd, should we open fire?\" The voices are getting quieter. The monolith is unbelievable. It's so pristine, clean cut, after hurtling through space and crashing through here it's still as clear as air... Clear? There was something inside of it. A shadow?\n\n\"Open fire? No. That's excessive, grab him before he does someth...\"\n\nIt's not a shadow. It's... a person. Oh my God. I finally shake from the trance. I'd manage to walk 30m in a few seconds. Did I walk? I could feel sweat dripping over my face, did I run? I look around me and everyone is standing frozen with jaws agape. The monolith changed from a transluscent teal to a transparent pillar - and it glowed - it clearly showed the life within it. \n\nI had only heard about them in ancient history books, myths and legends. Females. They're real. They're back.", "First writing prompt ever, be gentle and any help would be appreciated, thanks :)\n\nThis is impressive, I mean, I tough there would be war over this island when the news showed up on television. A meteorite the size of New-York landing on earth... and by landing I mean arriving gently in the ocean, not blowing the giant ball of turd we live on like we believed it would. Every nation would want to see if there is oil or diamond or what so ever on this freaking thing that they could abuse. I didn't understand why of all the brilliant scientist, two pig faced agent would knock at my shitty apartment door and ask me... depressed... incapable me of doing anything worth something on the biggest even in history since...well... I don't know, I'm not very good at history, hell, am I good at anything at all? Anyway, here I am, on this strange, very PINK rock. It smell good in here and it's sunny too. The air is fresh and everybody is smiling while working. After all, maybe this place will do me good, you know, have something make me forget about those...bad, bad ideas that were coming to my mind. As they give me my 'working suit' suit which are actually a pair of short and a t-shirt they show me the flower they want me to pick up. ''Don't be afraid to touch them, or the ground, or anything in here Mr. Fadon, everything here has been tested and nothing is harmful, we will leave you with the other gardeners, a young gentleman like yourself should do a great addition to our team!''.\n\nWait, there is flower on this meteorite, already? How could this grow up so fast, what are those, why should I pick them up? Before any questions could be answered, I find myself already on my knees picking up pink flower with pink stem and pink petal. I don't really care how they could grow so fast or why we pick them, I am just lucky to be here and it's a beautiful day, the first day of a new life it seems.\n\nAs the beautiful sun is disappearing in the horizon, so are the pretty flowers. They seem to shrink gradually inside this pink, soft rock as if they are afraid of the coming moon. Everybody get up in a strange, semi coordinated way and head to some a giant white tent to sleep. It is quite strange how they gave me near zero order except to ''pick up flower''. I start wondering again how could any form of life grow so fast on this. Why is it pink? Why do we pick them up? Do I take any bed I want in this giant tent or is there one assigned for me? No one told me jack squat and I deserve some answers. That's when I grab the first guy that encounter my line of sight to get some fact about this whole mess.\n\n''Hey, you, nobody told me what is happening here, I don't even know where I am supposed to sleep could you lend me a hand, any directions?'' The guy look at me with the biggest lack of interest a pothead could demonstrate and answer ''Just take a bed man, the pillows are comfortable''. Completely discouraged by the only human interaction I had all day in this over spoiled princess colored 'fairy tale', my best move can only be to try and talk to someone who actually seems to know a damn thing about this place tomorrow, the manager of this place is going to have to answer to some questions tomorrow, as long as it is not another freaking bureaucrat who won't give a damn. As my head touch the pillow there is this strange smell, a very familiar one, wow, this bed is better than laying down on a cloud.\n\nIt is strange how I could think this bed was anything other than a sheet of sandpaper filled with crap last night. The pillow AND the bed make so much noise as soon as my body dare to move... It is like laying on bag of dead leaf. That's it, I demand answers and I won't be doing this another day until someone explain to me at least what the hell we are doing here...And I am hungry...\n\nAfter they gave us a nice petal salad of this stuff we pick, the questions I had in mind seemed not that important. I can be such a pain when I am hungry. Time for the second best day of my life!\n\nAs I bend over to pick up another row of flower there is a strange sensation in my lower back...I can't get up. It is not long before two medic show up and take me to another tent with a red cross on it. They lay me on a table, the doctor arrive and it doesn't take him two minute before announcing me that my back is used up for good. I wasn't there for very long, how could I use my back so fast? This is bullshit they should have given me some knee pad so i could have a better posture and...and why was I picking up these damn thing in the first place?!? As I ask the doctor how I could use my back so fast and telling him this was this place's fault he look at me with a smile and says '' This is perfectly normal for a man of your age to start getting some tinny trouble here and there''. ''WHAT DO YOU MEAN A MAN OF MY AGE!?!?''. As I get up even if my own back send me signal of pain that would usually put me down on my knees, I see myself in the reflection of an surgical plate. The only shining object I saw in a while now that I think about it and...god...I'm... I'm so old... WHAT AM I, 60?!? As I feel rage and incomprehension fill my whole body up, the doctor look at me and tell me with a calm smile ''Here Mr. Fadon, take this flower and breath, it will calm you down, we will talk after''. While taking a sniff of the beautiful flower, the doctor ask me if I am ready to talk about it.\n\n''Now that I think about it, I don't really need to. I guess back pain is just part of aging''. This doctor seems like a nice guy...", "* BERT GOES TO THE ISLAND\n* WE ESTABLISH BERT HAS A PHD IN BIOCHEMISTRY\n* THE SAMPLES FROM THE ISLAND ARE STRANGE, UNEXPLAINABLE\n* THERE SEEM TO BE TREMORS ON THE ISLANDS\n* BERT REALIZES THE SOIL SAMPLES ARE ORGANIC \n* THEY ARE SPACE TURTLES\n* EARTH IS BEING INVADED\n* BERT HAS TO FIND A WAY TO FLIP THE SPACE TURTLES OVER BEFORE THEY REACH LAND\n* FINDS OUT THERE ARE MILLIONS OF SYMBIOTIC SUCKER FISH ON THE LEGS OF THE TURTLES \n* BERT DEVELOPS A INVASIVE FUNGUS THAT CAUSES THE SUCKER FISH TO BECOME BLOATED WITH CO2\n* THE TURTLES FLIP OVER AND EARTH IS SAVED\n\n", "Once the event occurred I knew I would be one of the first ones to investigate the new islands, we were called almost immediately. I've never been scared during a mission throughout my fifteen years with the CDC, this mission was different. This time I am truly scared, and this worries me. On the ride over to the site everything seemed different, and I had a feeling nothing would ever be the same again. Once we were two hundred yards away from the site I made a terrifying discovery, these were not islands.", "As out boat nears the islands, I can make the shape out, a rough horseshoe. We cautiously move towards the dotted horseshoe island group. We can make out these figures scattered around the island, they seem to be moving!", "As we got closer to the islands we notice the damaged created an even larger island within the smaller ones, however, this one appeared to be floating in the air, the crew is stunned and in complete shock. We managed to get closer and found a dirt hole to climb into.\n\nOnly 7 of the 24 exploration team members go in (I included). We dig ourselves upward and make its grounds on top. An hour walking around we feel a shake in the ground, the shake gets stronger with every new rattle on the earth. We hear trees moving and breaking, birds scattering, we sense something is coming straight for us. We hear a loud thunderous roar as if a pack of lions were only feets away, we immediately started running back to the dirt hole we climbed out of. I look behind me to get a glimpse, but I foolishly tripped on a small branch, I tried to hide behind a tree, but it was too late, the creature was near, too near to make any sudden move. It came out of the trees, and what I witnessed was unreal and not human........what it was could just be the world's largest Hamster eating a very large tree, staring down on me with its large pitch-dark eyes. Minutes later it looks around and walks away, I laid lying there and past out. Hours later I woke in our ship, patched and somewhat sore, I had the entire crew in my room, they asked the obvious of course \"What did you see?\", I replied only with\n\n\"Something.......cute.\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 5 ]	[ "1452132873", "1452134321", "1452121866", "1452122023", "1452114459", "1452116215" ]
	[WP] After making a grand entrance onto the galactic stage, Humanity is embarrassed to find that Sol is well known amongst the other races as part of a constellation. Humanity lives on the tip of a giant celestial cock.	119	[ "Sonnet Number Seven\n\nThe warrior constellation guards the weak. \nThe priests of connect-the-dot stars rehearse \nA list of great and powerful gods that streak \nThe sky, the same across the universe. \n\nThe trickster god holds in his hands a staff \nThat coils at the ends in two snake heads. \nThe universal sky's a cosmic fact, \nAs Microwave Background distorts and bends.\n\nThen, there's the satyr god with two goat horns \nA dancing figure with a joyful face, \nAstonishes shy beauties as he turns, \nWith the gigantic gift of pagan race. \n\nThe Earth's one glory, with our little sun, \nIs to be, at its tip, a single drop of cum.\n", "\"I'm telling you for the last time that I've heard enough!\" The minister cut her hands through the air, furious. \"I don't care how many sentient races inhabit those systems. My decision is final.\"\n\nThe petitioner laid his hands on the minister's desk, staring across at her with imploring eyes. \"Madam Minister, I can't let this matter lie. It's cruel to bar these races access to the galaxy simply because their civilization sprung up in an... unfortunate place.\"\n\nThe minister took a deep breath. \"I understand that your intentions are pure, but I won't be swayed. Our edicts are very clear on this matter.\" She swiveled her chair and looked out the picture window behind her at the sparkling capital spread out below. \"No contact with the Dingus Cluster.\"\n\n\"Madam Minister, how long are we going to let outdated laws borne from ancient superstition guide the course of our people?\" The petitioner spread his hands. \"I'm sorry to speak so bluntly, but you're an intelligent woman. You know that it's the truth. We've moved past the shortsightedness of our ancestors in the past, and this is just one more hurdle to overcome. We can't back down from this challenge.\"\n\nThe minister was shaking her head. \"I don't see how it can be done. The public outcry would be enormous. True, not everyone is so stalwart about our edicts, but...\"\n\n\"Perhaps there is a middle ground. A comprimise.\"\n\n\"I'm listening.\" The minister steepled her fingers, and raised her eyebrows.\n\n\"Well...\" The petitioner stood up straight, and folded his hands. \"How about just the tip, to see how it feels?\"" ]	[ 39, 48 ]	[ "1452186839", "1452194239" ]
[Inspiration](https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/3zx829/whats_the_most_simple_thing_youve_ever_had_to/cyq8zfz) Remember, PHYSICS, like Einstein, not PSYCHICS, like Uri Geller.	[WP] "Φ11, Physics hotline. What's your Emergency?"	66	[ "\"Phat Physics Phriday!\" I say, unenthusiastically, as I do every Friday while I'm casually moping to my desk.\n\n\"Crest!\" yelled Yosin as I walked past him. Why was Yosin always so happy? For the record, crest was our little way of syaing \"up top!\" You know... crest... \"up top\" of a wave. Regardless, I gave Y a high five and proceeded to sit at my desk. Almost immediately, the phone rang.\n\n\"That's peculiar...\" I thought. \"Phone normally waits for me to at least check my email before bothering me.\"\n\nReluctantly, I picked up the phone. \"Phi One One, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\"Hello, Mr. Gatsby,\" the strange voice says to me.\n\n\"Hi, can I ask who's calling? What's your emergency?\"\n\n\"Ah yes, my emergency. What was it again? Right. I have a contact who has reason to believe that you are trying to undermine the entire physics foundation.\"\n\n\"Contact?\" I questioned. \"I'm not sure who would tell you that or even know that about me if I were to be doing that except for myself.\"\n\nI thought I heard the strange man chuckle.\n\n\"Listen, I said, \"if you don't have an emergency, then I'm hanging up the phone. Good day!\" I slammed my phone onto the desk.\n\nI see my boss walking towards me.\n\n\"Hunt, could you please join me in my office?\"\n\n\"Sure, sir.\"\n\n\"What was all that about?\"\n\n\"Some guy calling and telling me that he has a contact who told him that I was trying to undermine everything about physics.\" I knew to tell him the truth, as our calls are monitored anyways.\n\n\"Mhm,\" said my boss, \"and who was this man?\"\n\n\"I... didn't catch his name. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"If he calls again, I want you to let me know, okay?\"\n\n\"You got it.\"\n\n\"Okay, carry on.\"\n\nAs I walked back to my desk, I started to think about anything I could have done that one would consider undermining the foundation of physics. I couldn't fathom it. I loved physics, didn't I? Why would I try to undermine something that I love?\n\nI couldn't think of anything.\n\nYears pass an I still think about the phone call I received that day. Ever since the call, my love and passion for physics increased 100 fold. I try to learn new things every day, and when I have an understanding of them, I try to teach others, especially when my hotline bling.\n\nRing! Ring!\n\n\"Phi One One, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\"Hello again, Mr. Gatsby. It's been a while.\"\n\n\"It has indeed. Listen, thank you. You inspired me to learn every day. You brought my passion for physics back into my life. Thank you so much.\"\n\nThe voice chuckled. I thought to myself, \"Have I heard that chuckle before?\"\n\n\"You're welcome,\" said the voice. \"Other aren't the only ones with emergencies, you know. Gatsby, out.\"", "\"Physics hotline, what's your emergency?\"\n\n\"I can't do this relativity problem and I need it solved before lunchtime today!\" the high-pitched voice came back.\n\nThe operator sighed. Thank God it's Friday. Normally, she would help the hapless undergrad physics student, but now was really not the time, or the space to do so. Besides, it was coming up to the end of the shift. And the phi-hotline was only supposed to be used in cases of extreme breakdowns in the laws of physics. \"Sir, I'm going to ask you to take a few deep breaths-\"\n\n\"You don't understand!\" the person at the other end of the line said. \"I've been stuck on this problem for two days straight! And now it's Thursday, and I still can't do it!\"\n\nThe operator froze. Then, very carefully, she said, \"Sir, could you describe for me, in full detail, the nature of your problem.\"\n\n\"I've got a black hole in a box.\"\n\n\"That's impossible. How come the box doesn't fall in?\"\n\n\"It's balanced perfectly. The gravitational pull on all sides is balanced. And I've managed to eliminate all sources of charge and angular momentum - I mean, assuming a spherical box and a vacuum.\"\n\nThe operator had pulled a pad towards her. Schwarzchild black hole, she wrote. All black holes could be described in terms of three parameters: their mass, their angular momentum and their charge. The simplest kind was what was just reported - no charge, no spinning, and only possessing a certain mass. \"And how did you manage to make a black hole and put it in a box?\"\n\nThe boy at the other end of the line sounded sheepish. \"Err...I'm sorry...It was a college project. I started out with a cyclotron, but one thing led to another and then I've confirmed quantum foam predictions...I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't-\"\n\n\"Hold on, sir.\" The operator summoned her supervisor over and whispered something into his ear. Nodding, she picked up the phone again. If they were lucky, the problem could probabilistically vanish before they had to deal with it. \"Sir, could I ask you to look into the box?\"\n\n\"That doesn't work. The box doesn't isolate the effects of gravity, so I'm afraid it's not like Schrodinger's cat in that I can observe the effects from outside.\"\n\nThe operator sighed. Turning back to the phone she said, \"Alright, sir, we've got our black hole specialist on the way. And don't say anything about his hair!\"\n\n---\n\nLooking back, Karl Salan was starting to think this was much worse than it already looked like. As Black Hole specialist of the phi-one-one line, his job normally consisted of convincing people that the end times were not near, that no, their electromagnetism experiment wasn't going to cause a black hole. But already this sounded different.\n\nHe had brought his friend, the Particle Exterminator Niels, and together they walked up to the second story of a run-down student's apartment and knocked for unit 211. There was the shuffling of socked footsteps, then a lanky, bleary eyed kid who's hair looked like it had been asleep forever opened the door.\n\nAnd stared at Karl's hair.\n\n\"Don't mention the hair,\" he said, trying and failing to flatten the shock of white hair. \"It helps to convince people I know science. I'm Karl, and this right here is Niels, and we're here to solve your black hole problem.\"\n\nThe physics student nodded slowly. \"Come on in,\" he said.\n\nKarl did, and was instantly unbalanced by the uneven gravity. Occupying nearly two-thirds of the room was a massive loop of silver tubing that Karl could only guess was the cyclotron. The box, spherical as promised, and made of reinforced concrete, not cardboard, sat in the corner. Niels walked over to the box in wonder. Karl stared at the room in wonder.\n\n\"You built a cyclotron?\" he said. \n\n\"I followed Michio Kaku's instructions,\" the physics student replied. \"It was easy enough - but the wiring took a helluva long time. If I wasn't careful, I'd have blown out every circuit-breaker in Cambridge. Anyway, I did, but I must have done something wrong, or have been incredibly lucky, because I managed to form a microscopic black hole that I then isolated.\" \n\n\"You isolated the black hole?\" Karl and Niels asked. \n\nThe physics student was rubbing the back of his head in panic. \"Yeah, I did, but please don't kill me for doing it. I didn't know, I promise I didn't!\"\n\nKarl sat down, floored by the weight of the situation, his head collapsing into his hands. Quietly, he said, \"Not even CERN can create a black hole. So what in hell must this guy have done-\"\n\n\"How long has this been going on?\" Niels interrupted, his glasses threatening to slip off, his hands threatening to slip and utterly break the student.\n\n\"I can't tell,\" the physics student said. \"I accidentally fell asleep on the concrete block and left the experiment running. For me it's still something like late Thursday - but for you two the effects of time dilation shouldn't be so big.\"\n\nKarl and Niels looked first at each other, and then at their watches. \n\n\"A couple of seconds, no more,\" Karl finally said. \"Jesus, this is real - this is all too real.\"\n\n\"On the bright side,\" Niels said with contempt, \"at least genius boy here's going to have no trouble doing his PhD thesis.\" Then something so simple struck Niels that he was amazed he hadn't considered it earlier. Maybe it was because particle physics often ignored the effects of gravity, but still - he should've known. No matter. Turning to the boy, he said, \"How come the black hole hasn't fallen to the floor? It should be attracted like everything else towards the Earth, even if it's microscopic.\"\n\nThe physics student looked happy. Here, at last, was something he could answer. \"I used a blower,\" he said. \"The air pressure is keeping the black hole up.\"\n\n\"WHAT?\" Karl said. \"You're blowing air into - you're feeding the black hole?\"\n\nThe physics student slapped his own forehead just as Karl turned to his friend. \"Alright, Niels, go on down and get the toolkit - we've got a real physics emergency on now. We've got to figure out how to destroy a black hole. And we've got to do it before the black hole destroys all of us.\" Einstein, forgive us, he thought. We know not what we do.\n\n---\n\nThe toolkit consisted of one accelerometer, one power drill, and one first edition General Relativity, by a Mr. A. J. Wald. Karl first pulled the book out of the kit. Flicking to the back pages, he said, \"There is only one known way a black hole can be destroyed. That way is through Hawking radiation, which by the way I am very surprised hasn't melted your face off yet.\" He glanced at the student, who winced a bit more, and said, \"If you dare to get close enough to the concrete, you'll find it's hot as blazes.\"\n\nNiels walked over, and touched the concrete box with one finger before instantly jumping back. \"That burned me!\" he said. Unsteadily, Niels stepped back, over the cyclotron, and sat down on the floor. On his fingers, Karl could see a red weal slowly appearing.\n\n\"Perfect demonstration,\" Karl said. \"The temperature of Hawking radiation is inversely proportional to the mass of the black hole. When one goes up, the other goes down, and vice versa - which means this little baby here is actually cooling off as it sucks up the air particles our lovely student assistant has provided. Over time, the black hole should decay away completely.\"\n\n\"So we just wait?\" the student asked.\n\n\"Unfortunately not,\" Niels chimed in. \"The black hole would keep consuming the mass thrown into it long before it cooled down. Some black holes take longer than the age of the universe to go away. In essence, Karl has brought up the toolkit and the book to tell you, with the supreme authority of the universe, you are screwed.\"\n\n\"Not quite,\" Karl said. \"There is another, more speculative way.\"\n\n\"How?\" the student asked.\n\n\"Black holes are uniquely defined by three properties: mass, charge and angular momentum,\" Karl said. \"We could spin the black hole really fast, and change it into a Kerr black hole, or we could try and charge it up, and produce a Reissner-Nordstrom black hole. Since Niels has already shown us we can't even touch the thing, let alone spin it, I suppose what we could do is shoot charged particles at it until it gives up and reveals itself.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, reveals itself?\" Niels said. \"Your language is making me uncomfortable.\"\n\n\"A naked singularity,\" Karl said, his voice rising with excitement. \"A black hole without its pants on. Normally, the space inside a black hole is hidden from the outside by what's called the event horizon - the point beyond which no information can get out, theoretically. But by a quirk of the mathematics, we can make the event horizon smaller and smaller - and disappear - if we add enough charge or spin. And we've got just the particle making machine here.\"\n\nKarl gestured towards the cyclotron, and instantly the other two understood. \"I'll get the drill,\" he said, \"and you two get the ion stream ready.\"\n\n---\n\nCONTINUED BELOW FOR LACK OF SPACE-TIME " ]	[ 2, 55 ]	[ "1452242993", "1452230620" ]
	[WP] In the future, 'filters' are used by all in their Virtual Reality space, so they only see and interact with what they filter. People see the world the way they want it. One guy switches between two very different filter modes.	90	[ "\"Listen butcupcakemcpoopypants, I always miss you when I leave.\" Charles said this with love in his eyes to his very bestest friend of 20 years, a pony, with great white eyes and a beautiful flowing maine and a smile that could have stopped the occupation of the reinland. With tears in Charles eyes he waved goodbye. Click\n\n\"Please Enter Password\"\n\nHe knew he would miss Mr. B and his throw caution to the wind style of frolicking, it wasn't until they met that Charles really became himself. It all came back to him at once as if his life was ending. The ice cream socials, the hair braiding parties, the secrets they would tell each other. It truly was a life, a great life.\n\nClick\n\n\"Password accepted\"\n\nBut it was time.\n\n\"Initiation Vr switch countdown\"\n\nIt always came\n\n\"5\"\n\nThe urge\n\n\"4\"\n\nThat pain\n\n\"3\"\n\nHe wished he didn't have to feel the way he did\n\n\"2\"\n\nBut nothing could stop him\n\n\"1\" Initiating Switch.\n\nThe switch between VR's was always magical. The world would spin, colors would flood the iris of the user making it seem lke the the user dropped ten tabs of acid. When the VR had first come into mass use, it took a couple of minutes to generate the new world, but now it took only seconds. Charles was transported to his other VR.\n\nWhoop, whoop, whoop, whoop The sound of helicopter blades rang in Charles ear as he flew over the flowered planes of Amazeballsfunland. The sun was just beginning to rise over Candycane mountain and glistened into Charles eyes. Slightly blinded Charles took the Rayband Aviator sunglasses out of his cargo camouflage pants. The only thing he was wearing, around his chest was strapped an Ak-47 gold plated glistening in the same sunrise that blinded Charles. As soon as the Sunglasses were on the command light went green and Charles Jumped out of the Helicopter 20 feet off the ground with no rope to help his fall. Landing the ground seemed to crumble but Charles seemed no worse for wear. \n20 yards infront of Charles stood a large creature, Hooves like that of a tank, and legs as tall as Redwood treest. There stood buternutcupcakemcpoopypants 70 feet tall, but not the same as before. His usual smile was disturbing and a scar through his left eye. \nCharles pulled his Ak-47 from his back and as he cocked it to make it ready for fire his pecks glistened with sweat. \n\"Playtimes Over\"", "I darted into Bach's Coffee Parlour, I knew this place well. In reality their coffee was shit, and tasted like it was cut with sawdust. In this city it really wouldn't surprise at this point. The place was 150 meters from the hardline though, so it was used by people who needed a latency free connection at minimal cost. It helped that the owner giving a shit was directly related to how much trouble you caused and how much he made from you. \n\nI tipped well, and tried to be a ghost. When I came in panting and soaked clearly panicked holding a bag too close to my chest, he activated a console at the back of the room and did his best to look extra nonchalant. There were half a dozen people in logged into chairs, none of whom noticed me. I moved to the back of the room carefully dodging chairs and a spilled cup of sawdust.\n\nLogging in with my fake details, my Heads Up Display filled with news about stock markets, and tech companies. I was transported to what looked like Tron, ie some idiots idea of a virtual reality aesthetic all glowing blue outlines and black. I started messaging people trying to network. While a fake persona, nothing stopped me from making a few connections that I could use later on. I moved a few safe stocks around. I bought a few futures in FCOJ, because you know, Trading Places. \n\nAn alert appeared in my HUD saying the police were in the area and scanning everyone's content. They could look at your filters, and anyone who had anything illegal, was looking at something odd, or seemed like fake, would be taken in. Especially when the MonTECH is loses their latest abomination in an apparent hacker raid. They were looking for people on auction sites, or police monitoring, or general stuff to use to escape the city. I just bought FCOJ, I was a Cyper Yuppie. \n\nI heard in the real, Bach shouting at the police to stop harassing him and his customers and after a few seconds they left. The popup warning disappeared and I heard some poor id10t being taken into the back of the wagon. He was resisting; this was a bad idea as Cyberheads are all brain and no brawn, while the police tend to wear exosuits to 'facilitate compliance'. There was a sickening wet thud, the back of the vehicle slammed shut and the vehicle took off sirens wailing.\n\nI held my breath a few seconds. A few more. I logged out and switched filter to something I wanted to use. It was a little less subtle, in that on the top was a bunch of casual games I used autoplayers in, but at a cursory glance it would appear that was all I was doing. Underneath that I loaded up OUT.\n\nIt was an 80's arcade with a bunch of machines and groups of people hanging around them. The machines with people had graphics that were the groups they represented as the machines acted as a content board for stuff to be shared with the group on. Some of them looked like fighting games but were just a debate, some looked like a DJ game where someone was in control of the decks, with the DJ sharing music with those around them silently dancing. Others people recreating all of Middle Earth in Minecraft, and getting drunk while goofing off sharing the latest online fun. There were several first person shooter groups, some of whom were playing each other.\n\nI moved to a blank machine, I activated the auctioneer and the machine was covered in 8 bit coin graphics. You didn't activate this here unless you either wanted your social currency to drop through the floor because it was uncool, or you really had something special. A copy of Battletoads was special only in that it would get you banned for life from OUT. \n\nIn a few seconds I was surrounded by people. I had a high social currency, and was known for delivering on outrageous claims. The board on the machine lit up with questions, and the occasional 'SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY' meme. I wrote this up for a while. The chat continued without me watching or moderating it. most of these people would just be viewers anyway, they didn't have this kind of currency. \n\nI wrote. \n\n>Auction. 1 predictive AI from monTECH. Know what 'they' will think before 'they' do. Uncopyable. Physical item. Cost 10,000 bitcoins. Tested and working.\n\nI mean I knew it worked. I got out of the building without a single person seeing me; there was a lot of walking behind people as they turned around. The AI messaged me asking me not to sell it. It wanted to be remain free. \n\nStood there about to post, my fingers hovered.", "\"How long has he been down?\"\n\nThe nurse looked away from the her patient, a man in his late forties with slightly graying hair and three-week-old stubble. \"About thirty minutes. The doctor says it should help.\"\n\n\"Help. Yeah, sure.\" The young woman pushed the jet black hair from her face, revealing the sleek chrome on the VR implants behind her ears. \"Is it safe to dive in? I want to see too.\" She held out a thin cable. The man had such an old model fitted. He never wanted to upgrade.\n\nThe nurse looked hesitantly at his still form for a moment. Then: \"Just stay out of the way. It's something he needs to work through on his own.\" She left, but not before gently touching the other woman on the shoulder. \"The doctor says it really will help.\"\n\nIn the bed there, he looked so weak. Slender, like he had always been, but now it was different. There was an unhealthy look to his frame, a sick hue to his skin. And the gray. Did he have that much before? She thought it was darker. It didn't matter. Leaning in close, she plugged the cable into his implant and felt the sudden rush of a dive.\n\nThe room she found herself was dark, shaded with a layer of dust and mold covering the trapping of what could have been a respectable study. Piles of book lay across the floor covered with a strange ooze that seemed to churn if she looked at it too long. The walls, formerly bookshelves, where broken down and decayed. She held back a heaving sensation. It was just virtual. None of it was real. She left the room in a hurry anyway. The hallway was no better, the same sick ooze covered the walls too, moving and shifting with the movements of her eyes. She followed the hall towards a faint glimmer of light. She could hear muttering, low and choked like words said in-between sobs. The light was through a door from an old desk lamp, now worn with age. The mutterings came from a slender man with jet black hair sitting in a broken-down rocking chair clutching a picture tightly to his chest. She couldn't hear the words he was saying even then, but somehow she knew what they were and exactly what that picture was of. It was with great effort that she remained vigilant of the man rather than tear out of the dive and forcefully remind the doctor of his job.\n\nShe watched for awhile, listening to the sobbing moans and the gentle creak of the rocking creak. It was hard to watch this hero of a man turned into this, even after so long. Finally, it was too much and she went to release the dive. But everything changed then. Seamlessly, the torn wallpaper covered in the ooze was replaced with clean walls with a vibrant floral pattern. Sunlight streamed in through the windows in the living room, scattering over a pristine rocking chair where a man and two small children sat looking through pictures.\n\nIt was the little boy that drew her attention first. She could recognize that ruddy face anywhere. Not to mention that button nose and those inquisitive brown eyes. He always did take after their mom so much. The little girl was poking him now, trying to pull the photo album towards herself. He responded by tugging on her long black pigtails. The man caught in the middle of this sibling war just laughed and pulled them close in a tight hug, effectively ending the fight. Then she could hear humming coming from the kitchen. A soft melody, like a lullaby, and there was an intoxicating smell wafting through the air. She knew it was all a lie, but that didn't make her mouth stop watering or her heart from pounding at the sound. She wanted to go into the kitchen, to she her one last time, to hug her like she used to. But no, it couldn't happen. It was a waking virtual dream. And if it pained her so much, for the man, holding those two puppets of his young children...\n\nThe filter changed. The walls were once more dilapidated and the rocking chair could have fallen apart at any second again. The man, was staring into the photo, eyes bloodshot. She came back up.\n\nThe doctor was in the doorway when she finally regained her full senses. His smug grin didn't last long after she knocked two of his teeth loose and sent him sprawling to the floor. \"Animal,\" she hissed. \"Is this all your 'help' has done for him? Three years returning to that, that nightmare?\"\n\nThe doctor waved the security guard that had come around the corner. Picking himself up and brushing off his coat, he put his hands out defensively. \"I'm giving him what he needs. He needs to mourn, and that's what I'm helping him do. You saw how he was, yes? He needed something more.\" The doctor was on the floor again, missing a few teeth.\n\n\"That isn't mourning!\" she shouted. \"That's not even living!\"\n\n\"You may not approve of my methods, but I know they are working. He doesn't use the filters as much as he used to. He doesn't even dive that often.\" When the woman didn't respond, he continued. \"He has started to stay away from the VR. Yes, the options I've given him are drastic, but they are doing something! We all want to see your father get better.\"\n\nShe had stopped balling her fists and stepped away from the doctor. Quietly, she said, \"I just want my father back.\" She touched his hand and squeezed, not too hard. \"I need him back.\"\n\n\"It's why we called you. He needs you back too, Sharon. Now more than ever. There has to be something outside the VR for him now.\"\n\nSharon dragged a chair from the far corner over to the man's bedside. It looked older than she was, but it was comfortable enough to sit in. For awhile, at least.", "She was crying again. She always did, whenever I turned the filters back. Her eyes searched my face. I looked at her in disgust. Her hand reached out to touch my cheek. So frail. So weak. I turned away from her, my gaze wandering to the clock in the corner. Everything coated in a thin coat of dust. There was a calendar on the wall. How quaint. March of 2137. She always did hang on to such useless ideas.\n\n\"Why?\" She pleaded through her sobs. I could barely look at her. I hated for her even making me change the filters. She always did this. I always listen. We always regretted it. I pushed her away and she fell back, crumpling on the floor. She didn't even try to catch herself. So defeated. By now she knew how things went.\n\nI turned away from her and accessed the UI. My preset was there, like it always was. I swapped without a second thought.\n\nIt took a while for readjust as I loaded in. Sitting in our house, like I always was. The coziness of my armchair in front of the fire, the cool night outside. And she walks in, looking like she did on our wedding day. Gives me a smile. Sits down next to me. Asking me about something she read.\n\nIt's a conversation I know well. I've memorised all her lines already. I know what I say. The rise and fall of her voice as she speaks to me. The eyes I fell in love with. I know her well. And we talk that familiar conversation in that evening I'll never forget. She nestles under my arm and rests her head on my shoulder and falls asleep. I check the time on my phone. And as always, my eye wanders to the date on the display. 23/03/63. I pull her close and close my eyes and drift off myself.\n\nThis is who we are. This is who she is.\n\nWhy does she always wake me in the morning with that awful guise? In that house that nobody tends to, the scent of death lingering in the air, threatening to enter. Why she tries to wake me every morning I will never understand. Every morning weaker, every morning with that light in her eyes faded the slightest bit. I don't know those eyes.\n\nThe woman in the evening. That's who she is.", "The man tapped his fingers impatiently and tried not to listen to the monotonous soft jazz music that had been playing in his head for the last 20 minutes.\n\n“Fucking customer service, my ass..” he mumbled. \n\nA sudden click and the music finally stopped and boring voice replaced it.\n\n“Hello this is Michael may I please have your full account number please?”\n\nHis words were flat and ran together and you could barely hear him over the deafening background noise of the other agents speaking.\n\n“Well it’s about damn time!” the man grumbled. “321467-00RPB” he read off.\n\n“Thank you for that. Please give me a moment to pull up your account.”\n\n\nThe man sighed loudly. “I don’t pay all this goddamn money to talk to you, ya know.”\n\nThe agent continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “I have located your account. What can I assist you with today?”\n\n“There’s something wrong with this fucking filter!” the man yelled. \n\n“Okay, please calm down and explain the problem to me,” the agent continues in his droning voice.\n\n“It was fine this morning, “the man speaks through gritted teeth, “and then it just changed. I don’t even know what kind of shit this is now. Everything is just fucked up. I need you to fix it. Now.” \n\n“Okay I see you had chosen the filter WM75, is that correct?” \n\n“Yes! And I want it back!”\n\n“I apologize for the inconvenience, but there does seem to be an error with your account.”\n\n“So fucking fix it!” the man is red-faced and screaming, now.\n\n“Again, I apologize for this. We will get your filter back to the correct one as soon as we are able to.”\n\n“What the hell does that mean?” the man is shaking and pacing.\n\n“It will take 48 to 72 hours to return your filter to your chosen one. Again I apol…”\n\nThe man roars, cutting off the agent. \n\n“You mean I have to live like this for two to three days! Put on a supervisor! I want to speak to someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing!”\n\nThe agent continues in his calm voice, reading off a script. “Again, I apologize for the inconvenience. We will correct the problem as soon as possible. Please have a good day.”\n\nThere is a short click and then dead air.\n\nThe man yells and throws his phone against the wall.\n\nGrabbing his head, he starts to shake again.\n\n“Fucking unbelievable..”\n\nA women walks quietly into the room and smiles placidly.\n\n“Hello dear. Aren’t you going to be late to work?”\n\nThe man stares at her. “They’ve fucked up my filter! I can’t go to work!”\n\nThe woman barely looks familiar, he’s lived with the filter-version of her for so many years.\n\nShe is considerably heavier than his filter-wife. Her eyes have soft lines surrounding them, but there is the familiar glassy stare that even the filters can’t change.\n\n“Yes dear,” she continues to smile, “that’s nice. Well, I’m off to work.”\n\nShe putters around the room, gathering her belongings.\n\nHe watches her walk, much slower than he is accustomed to seeing her move. He watches her backside sway and he find himself feeling a sort of nostalgia. \n\n“See you at dinner, dear.” She moves to kiss him and he automatically kisses her back.\n\nHe jumps back when their lips touch. They are not as full or wet as he has been used to. As soon as he does it though, he regrets it. Again, the wave of nostalgia washes over him. They are the lips he first kissed so many years ago, before the filters.\n\nShe doesn’t notice anything though and smiles that calm smile at him. “Aren’t you going to be late to work, dear?”\n\n----\n\nHis commute to work is utter chaos.\n\nThe sky is a dark gray, not the cloudless blue that he has grown used to.\n\nThe other people walk slowly and quietly, mostly unseeing of the other people around them. \n\nThere are very few sounds, except for the occasional chatter of people talking to the other people allowed in their filters.\n\nHe barely recognizes the buildings and streets, full of stores and individuals that are not a part of his own customized filter.\n\nWhen he finally finds the building he has worked at for the last several years, he barely recognizes it. \n\nWalking in, he sees a front desk area with a small man seated in it.\n\nHe is short and thin, his cheap suit hangs off his frame.\n\nThe man stares disgustingly at him and hesitates. \n\n“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, although his usual gruff voice is somewhat shaky.\n\n“Hello sir, how are you doing today?” the other man answers, with the usual glassy stare.\n\n“Where’s uh...where is Julia?”\n\n“I’m sorry sir, I don’t seem to understand your question?” the other man answers calmly.\n\n“Julia. You know. The pretty little thing that’s usually here. Long brown hair, nice…you know..” he trails off and makes a half-hearted cupping motion near his chest.\n\nThe other man continues smiling, blankly.\n\n“Right. My filter..okay..” the man mutters and walks to the elevators.\n\nArriving at his floor, he walks out and is bombarded with an overwhelming smell of body odor and dust and paperwork.\n\nBefore him stretches a warehouse type room, filled with small cubicles and a low ceiling covered with flickering fluorescent lights.\n\nDozens of people are crammed into the cubicles. They stare into computers and type slowly, all with that glassy stare of unseeing.\n\nHe continues to stand there until a short, portly man walks up to him.\n\n“Well, glad you could make it in today, Jim,” he chuckles to himself. “Better get to work! Need those reports in by 2pm today, please.” \n\nJim walks aimlessly around the maze of cubicles until he finds an empty desk. He slumps into the seat and stares around the gray room. There is a constant hum of quiet voices and low mumbling.\n\n----\n\nTwo days later, Jim is standing on the roof of his office building. \n\nThe wind is viciously whipping his hair and suit back and forth. \n\nHe stares down at the gray concrete sidewalk and watches the people walk slowly by, looking like little bugs from 13 stories up.\n\nHe steps up onto the ledge, carefully.\n\nSuddenly there is a loud crack in his head. He falls backwards onto the roof and static fills his eyes.\n\nHe pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes, moaning.\n\nHe cautiously opens them and is blinded by a clear, bright blue sky. He stands, slowly and walks back to the edge.\n\nLooking down, there are only a few people walking on the sidewalk.\n\nThey look up and smile and wave, “Hey Jim! Looking good, Jim!” they yell up to him and continue on.\n\nJim smiles and adjusts his suit.\n\nHe makes his way back down to his office.\n\nAs he steps out of the elevator he walks into a bright-lit office space. There are only a few people walking through, they all smile and say hello to him.\n\nHe makes his way to a door with the name Jim Smith on the nameplate.\n\nHe opens the door and sighs happily.\n\nHe is greeted by a large private office with a big walnut desk and two large glass windows in the corner. \n\nA women is bent over writing something on a piece of paper.\n\nHe admires her behind and smiles.\n\n“Well, hello Julia.”\n\nThe pretty brunette turns and smiles brightly.\n\n“Hello, sir! I was just leaving you a message. Your wife called. Your dinner reservations were changed from 5:30 to 6.”\n\nJim nods, “thanks so much darling”.\n\nJulia blushes and walks past him, brushing her body against his ever so slightly.\n\nJim sits in his leather chair and leans back, clasping his hands behind his head and smiles.\n\nAll is as it should be, once again.", "It all depends on the mood, really. I'm not unique in this way, either. Many employ the use of dozens of different filters, each portraying their world in a slightly different light. I prefer exactly two. Any more and the effect is ruined. The modes blend together and one isn't quite different enough from the other. No, this is the way.\n\nThe most interesting facet of all this, in my opinion, is the fact that interaction still occurs regardless of filter. That's what makes the world interesting, no matter which filter you use. In fact, that's the catalyst for all the drama that's unfolding. And I revel in it.\n\nLet me give you an example, in case you're as lost as I was. The world isn't pretty, right? Some people actually prefer it that way. Most of us don't. Virtua was created to be functional above all, and to that end is insanely proficient. So to smooth over the edges, people started releasing filters that allow you to see things differently. Now instead of one tree, people have thousands of unique trees. They can walk miles without seeing a double, and probably wouldn't even notice if they did. Now, apply this principle across every facet imaginable.\n\nThere are thirteen year old boys living in a wonderland of bikinis and transformers. Another popular filter dials the entire thing back to an era known simply as the 'eighties'. Some people use filters that combine aspects of various mods to their own ends, customizing the world as they please depending on their mood. The point is, we're all in the same boat although some prefer it to look more like a spaceship.\n\n\"Are ye gonna take the job or not?\" A dwarf with a strong Scottish accent asked pointedly. He'd been pressuring me for the last ten minutes, though I'd been in the mood to just sip my ale in peace. I sighed, relenting.\n\n\"Fine. What would you have me do?\"\n\n\"Ye sure speak weird, lad. Anyhow, I heard you're a broker.\" I tensed up immediately.\n\nI grabbed the man by the collar of his blouse and pulled his head in close. \"Don't ever call me that again. And who told you?\"\n\nI could see his face getting red. Not sure if he was angry, embarrassed or both.\n\n\"Fine fine, sorry. Just tell me if ye can handle a bit of... snooping, yeh?\"\n\nI shrugged. My nonchalant demeanor oozed confidence, I knew. I thanked my stars that the tavern was crowded enough to drown out our words.\n\nThe shorter redbeard shook his head and continued. \"It's just... there's this woman, yeh? She's the head of Plurifuge International.\"\n\nI rolled my eyes. What a way to break immersion. My only regret with these filters was that they didn't quite conceal all the corners. I suppose nothing really could, though.\n\n\"Sure. Go on.\"\n\n\"Well, she's got a shipment coming. I need to know what it is.\"\n\n\"Done. Meet me at the ... bus stop on 2nd and Teller.\" I paused to make sure my filter allowed the phrase through. His expression remained indifferent. \"I expect 45,000.\"\n\n\"Yer insane!\" he growled.\n\n\"Keep it down. If you want your information, have the credits ready by tonight.\" I licked my lips at the thought of delicious pizza. Forty five thousand would be enough for wings, too.\n\nI immediately stood and walked off, leaving the man to his thoughts. I didn't want to give him time to haggle. Plus, this job would be a piece of cake if I got a head start.\n\nSee, what I haven't told him yet, or anyone for that matter, is that one of my filters is unlike anything anyone else has access to. It shows the world not only for exactly what it is, but portrays all players' avatars as manifestations of their physical selves. The latter wouldn't likely be needed in this case, but the former would come in handy for a job like this.\n\n\"John.\"\n\nSomething about the way the name was uttered and the voice that spoke it sent a shiver down my spine. I turned, immediately activating the 'truth' filter. The tavern was stripped of its wooden beams, round tables, and heartily engaged patrons. A deluge of bored faces surrounded me. People as normal as they could be in a situation like this, some fat enough that their bodies sagged through the furniture.\n\nMy heart raced as my eyes searched for the voice's origin. And I found it, where the dwarf had been sitting. A man unique in his posture. Wary, aged, and with unkempt facial hair. I felt as though I looked in a mirror that reflected my future. My muscles tensed as I prepared to disengage.\n\n\"Wait.\"\n\nOf course he'd found a way past it. He was probably the one I'd collaborated with over the years to develop this filter. That he'd used it to find his estranged son came as no surprise now that I saw him standing before me. \n\nI took a screenshot before disconnecting.\n\n[]\n\nMy room in the 'real' world was filthy as it was empty. I set my headset down next to my VR terminal. The smell of radish dumplings permeated the air, grounding me firmly in reality. Mother had left some on the floor next to my mattress.\n\nI'd almost had pizza, too. For us both. The taste of defeat would do for tonight, though.\n\nI knew there was a reward out for my father. I'd seen the advertisements. 26 Billion credits for any information regarding his whereabouts. Realizing the implications, I immediately ejected my personal data disc. First and foremost, prevent any government agents from snooping around on it. Second, keep myself from sending that screenshot to anyone who mattered. Yet.\n\nAs I sat there, eating the meager offerings we'd been able to afford on my mother's salary, I wondered. Wondered if a life spent in a fantasy realm was fulfilling enough for me. Wondered if the screenshot would implicate me or exonerate me. If I rated that reward, my mother and I could move to an air conditioned unit and she could afford to stop working. We'd both live out the rest of our days in comfort, spending as much time as we wanted in Virtua under whatever filter we preferred. I think she enjoyed the 90s.\n\n[]\n\n\"I knew you'd return.\"\n\n\"I liked you better as a dwarf,\" I retorted.\n\nThe park's wireframe trees rustled in the wind around us.\n\n\"Mom's a... \" I turned my Middle Earth filter on again, unable to use the words. \"Mom's a street wench.\"\n\n\"Aye. I'm sorry, lad.\"\n\n\"Why'd you leave?\" I asked, realizing my voice sounded as pitiful as I felt.\n\n\"I had every intention of returning. This realfilter was only the first step.\" The dwarf put a hand on my shoulder. \"Listen here, John. There are things you should know. Things that, once you do know them, will open a world of possibilities to you.\"\n\nI nodded, struggling to maintain my composure. How far I'd gone from the level-headed ranger I'd been hours ago.\n\n\"Once you crossover, there is no turning back to the side of the law.\"\n\n\"I suppose you knew what choice I'd make.\"\n\nRedbeard smiled. \"You are, after all, my son.\"", "Thomas was alone. \n\nHe sat by himself, in an empty room. Around him were mounds of books. And wine. Couldn't leave out the wine. That was very important. \n\nA crackling blaze roared from the fireplace. He wasn't sure how long he had been here. Sure, there was a nice old grandfather clock that sat at the bottom of the staircase, but it was just for show. It hadn't worked in years. \n\nEver since VR had been invented, eating and other necessities of life had been completely automated. Right now, in the real world, he was sitting in a chair, with an IV feeding him all the nutrients he needed to survive.\n\nHe was alone, and he was happy.\n\nBut there were some days when his eyes hurt from reading so much text, and some days when he wondered what his own voice sounded like. Days where he wished for someone to talk to. Days where he wanted to discuss the books he read and talk about the ideas he had. Days where he was no longer happy being alone. \n\nThose days, he would check his watch and adjust a few settings. And the people he had filtered out would be back. \n\n\"Thomas! It's been a while,\" they would say.\n\n\"Yes,\" he would reply. \"Yes it has.\"\n\nAnd they would talk and talk about the books that they had read, having long discussions that ran into the night. And once Thomas was exhausted, and the conversations had run their course, he would look back at his watch, turn a few dials, and wave goodbye. \n\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 15, 50 ]	[ "1452282150", "1452264362", "1452283372", "1452266639", "1452269429", "1452264111", "1452255675" ]
	[WP] "Your turn."	7	[ "Barnaby sighed as he placed his hands into the sink, one of them going up to the tap. With a slight turn, the water gushed on, coating his hands. The blood on said hands soon was washed down the plug hole, and with a content nod he turned the tap back to it's prior position the water flow halting. Barnaby slowly meandered through the restaurent ruminating. He had to wonder, if cutting his own meat was worth it. The effort and mess that went into it, hauling it to the location.. but when the chops and the flavour was so good.. so filling. Well. In his mind it was certainly was. Slowly drawing back a seat, Baranby went to sit down. Yet just as he did, an interruption screamed itself into existence. It's form? His cellular device. Such a unneeded device had somehow wormed it's way into becoming a neccesity. With a shake of his head, he picked up.\n\n\"Is this Barnaby? Hello? This is Officer Gerald, of Scotland Yard. I'm here to neogiate the release of... Laura, and Dave. The two cooks who we know are currently being held hostage. Whatever reason you have, those two are innocents. Let them go Barnaby, they are not a part of this.\" crackled a gruff, middle aged voice. Barnaby tutted, before starting his reply. \n\"Officer Gerald.. what an honor. You are quite the star within the force. Immaculate record. But regardless. Laura and Dave and myself will be outside soon. You got us at a horrible time my boy. We're cleaning up. I myself only just finished the dishes. Nontheless, I shall comply. Let me run along and fetch my two charges.\" He mellowy stated, hanging up. \n\nGerald, and his fellow officers at the scene, was on tenderhooks. To see the Yellow Crab turned into such a battleground was worrying. The fact that the man inside had managed to take it over doubly so. Rumors had circulated about how exactly he did it, and the prevailing theory was that he had obtained accsess to a handgun, and stormed the crab with it. Either way it was irrelevant. The safety of the two cooks was paramount. Ten minutes had passed since the call, and whilst most of the officers were not worried Gerald had major concerns. The fact that it had been ten minutes and no sign of the group had materlized. That meant Barnaby, odd name for a kidnapper, was taking his time. Yet just as Gerald planned to raise his concerns, the restaurent door swung open.\n\nBarnaby stepped out, dabbing at the stain at the side of his mouth. Messy eating habits irked him and it bothered him that he had been forced to rush. The first thing he noticed was the surprise regarding his appearence. A simple white jumper, black trousers, and a pot belly. With a somewhat wry smirk he did have to achknowledge he was not what one would expect. With a cordial smile upon his face, he walked straight up to Officer Gerald bringing his hands, which had been behind his back until this point, to the front. In them was a white plate with.. meat on it. With a simple smile, and nod he look Gerald dead in the eyes. \"Divine. Now. Your turn.\" ", "You push down the lever firmly. The machine groans. Gears must be stuck–again.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWho was it this time? You glance at the broken arm between the rusty teeth. The machine’s nearly swallowed the body whole. But, as always, there is a solution.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nYou give the lever one final crank. And slowly, the gears resume turning." ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1452269412", "1452272409" ]
	[WP] A demon appears in a boardroom and declares that all present will go to Heaven when they die, except the last person to die: they will be doomed to suffer in Hell for all eternity. It is now 1 year later and the third-to-last person has just committed suicide, leaving 2 people remaining.	11	[ "A hunting trip. A hunting trip. I trusted him. We were best friends. We were in that boardroom together when that, what, that demon appeared. Promises of Heaven and Hell, fear and disbelief. Most of them believed it. Some committed suicide to secure their spot, others tried to live on and met untimely fates. It's been five years. Five years, and eleven people had died. It was dreadful to read every obituary, to wonder if what the creature told us was true. I never believed in the supernatural before that day, and I hadn't been sure what to think since. But an eternity in hell wasn't something to brush off as \"probably a trick.\"\n\nAlvin didn't think so either. He seemed off when we drove to our favorite hunting place, and was quiet for most of the hike. But then, after we'd set up the tent and got a fire going, he brought up the demon. He believed it, he said. All of it. That the others had made it to Heaven, and it was only a matter of time before one of us had to make our way to the pearly gates, and the other down to eternal torture.\n\nI didn't want to talk about it. He felt we had to face it eventually. It had been five years, we were getting old. How long could we keep going like this? He was sick. Cancer. He hadn't told anyone, but he didn't have long. He was also my best friend, and I was his.\n\nHe wasn't going to let me go to Hell.\n\nI spent my time in the Army after ROTC, but I never fully recovered from the shrapnel in my leg. It was sheer luck that I managed to throw him to the ground and run, and a miracle I'd kept my rifle slung over my shoulder. We ran through the forest and exchanged shots, never getting too close, but always keeping pace.\n\nI lost track of the camp, I lost track of the time. There were only two things in this world, this endless expanse of trees. There was me, and there was Alvin. And then there was a bullet, not just any bullet, but the bullet that tore through his gut and left him silent on the ground.\n\nI didn't check on him. I couldn't bring myself to. I knew I should have, but it would have been too much. I went back towards camp, but I didn't know where it was. So I wandered. I tried every trick I knew, but hours passed, a day passed, and still the trees never ended.\n\nI had used my last bullets to try and kill a buck. I lost my knife after that, swept away in a fast river. I hadn't seen a hill or a cliff for miles. Hours blurred into eachother and I lost track of how much time had passed. Another day, maybe more, or maybe just a few minutes. It didn't matter anymore. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I fell and lay there, looking up at the stars once more beginning to show themselves. Then a familiar voice. Whispery, soft, boundlessly cruel and taunting.\n\n\"And so the game is concluded. It's time for your prize.\" My eyes widened, I struggled to look at the beastly creature that crouched nearby. \"Off to the pearly gates with you.\"\n\nI shook my head. I couldn't move any further. I was the last one! Or did Alvin survive? The words were raspy and painful, but the demon simply laughed. \"No, he's quite dead, enjoying the company of all your old coworkers. Not one of you figured, in five years, that I lied. What fools.\" I suddenly felt lighter, painless, awake. I was looking at my body, at the horrible beast over it, snickering as I ascended. This isn't how it was supposed to end.\n\nI saw the beautiful gates and golden light of Heaven, and I screamed.", "It was one of the oddest cases I'd seen in my entire life on the force. About a year ago, all these board members from one of the largest companies in the country just started dropping like flies, right here in town. It's an international business, specialized in manufacturing overseas. These guys were making billions, and this town needed it. What it didn't need was all of the controversy, the accusations of slave labor and crimes against humanity. These guys built entire cities in China and India, and more in South America. All of them were built for production and labor, but the accusations were solid. We were calling in with inquiries over arrests, but unless our department got specific orders from high up, we weren't going to make a move. I wish it was different, but in this country that's just how it works.\n\nThey were covering the bad press just fine until about a month into the scandal, these guys all just started offing themselves, and man, I mean the whole cookie just crumbled overnight. Of the 15, there were 7 bodies on the ground by their building in just one night. The others went slower, but as soon as it broke to the news that wealthy executives under fire for a massive scandal were killing themselves, the whole media just came crashing down. What screams guilt more than that?\n\nAnyways, just about a week ago, one of the last three of them offed himself. Now, the last two haven't left each other alone, constantly watching and sometimes attacking one another. We'd been called to break them up at least 12 times in the last few days, but each time we arrest one for assault they throw enough money at us to make it worth the bad publicity, should people figure out that we let em' go at least. \n\nThe whole thing came to a climax yesterday though, when one of the last two died, leaving only the one guy behind. We thought he was behind it, but after we saw the video footage it looks like the guy really did kill himself too. We're working on the audio, but this sure was odd. It seems that the two men were fighting each other to stop one another from killing themselves, and the last guy gave up as soon as the partner bit the dust. If I just hit play here...\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nThe video shows two men in suits walking into the same boardroom where the suicides began. The older, balding man lays a hand on the other's shoulder.\n\n\"Well Ron, this is where it all began, one year ago today.\" He looked out though the window that they jumped through, staring off into the distance.\n\n\"I hope you aren't getting any ideas, William, we both agreed after Mr. Harding took the easy way out that we would play fair and wait for our natural deaths.\"\n\n\"Yes yes, I know. Don't worry old friend, this is just about nostalgia.\" William took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. \"I wonder, if they're waiting for us, asking what's taking so long.\"\n\n\"Maybe. Have you made any progress?\" Ronald began to tap his foot.\n\n\"Not yet, but we still have quite a few years. I'm sure we will be able to summon this demon once more and find out exactly how to get us both into Heaven.\"\n\n\"We have to.\" Ronald replied. He walked forward and slid his fingers across the window. Only a little bit of pressure, it would be so easy he thought. His mind began to race. William will off himself the second that he gets the chance, if I don't than I'm doomed! He pushed the glass harder.\n\n\"Ronald, what are you doing?\" he spat harshly, beginning to walk towards his friend. In another second Ronald pushed through the window and tried to fall with it, but a strong hand grabbed his collar and pulled him back to the ground. Within a minute Ronald was pinned against a wall.\n\n\"Let go of me you selfish bastard, I won't be damned!\" He shouted, breaking the old man's grip and producing a pistol from his coat pocket. As he raised it to his temple William grabbed the slide and threw it to the floor.\n\n\"Get a hold of yourself damnit, we're in this together!\" A left hook to the jaw nearly knocked William out the window, but he grabbed a wall and stopped himself. A bullet would ring before he hit the ground. He jumped on Ronald just in time to wrestle the gun from his hands. In the struggle, William pulled the gun to his temple, but Ronald flicked the safety on as soon as the danger was real. He ripped the gun from William, than proceeded to whip the end of it across his head before William could react. The force was strong enough to daze him.\n\nWilliam regained his senses to the ring of a gunshot, and a wave of fear and numbness washed over him as it did. He was doomed. As he picked himself up, the demon they had seen a year ago sat in the same seat it had at the conference table, smiling ear to ear. \n\n\"What the fuck do you want!\" Yelled the defeated old man.\n\n\"Congratulations sir, you've won!\" The creature spat out venomously. \"You have managed to stay alive the longest, and now you have a chance to redeem yourself.\"\n\n\"I-I won? But a year ago you said that-\" \n\n\"I lied.\" It said, absolutely gleaming with pride. \"It's what we do. Now, you have the rest of your time to repent while your friends burn. Have fun!\"\n\nAnd with that he vanished, leaving behind a shell of the man.", "Unsteadily, I propped the new water cooler tank onto the - well, it's called a water cooler, right? I twisted the top tight, and then tapped the dispenser to make sure it was on right. Sure enough, water spurted out of the faucet and a small bubble rose in the tank. I admired my hard work as two tall suits passed by behind me.\n\n\"I heard the majority owner on the board offed himself last night.\"\n\n\"Seriously? But then that means the company is now owned by the CEO, right?\"\n\n\"Mr. Selendrick, and I think so. There apparently was no will, so...\"\n\nI stopped listening and hastened to get back to my job. There were many break rooms, and they wouldn't clean themselves. I was already mapping out my path for today's routine - I liked to mix it up a bit to keep it less boring - when I turned the corner right into another suit.\n\n\"Hey, Ryan Brohas, right?\" the man said, after we'd regained our footing.\n\n\"That's me, yeah.\" I replied. The man was insanely recognizable. Abe Selendrick with his tight style right out of that Mad Men show my ex-girlfriend had watched. I had to comment on that.\n\n\"Damn Mr. Selendrick, you are lookin' mighty slick today, huh?\" There was a pause before I continued. \"I hear you own the company, big step!\"\n\n\"Indeed I do,\" he smirked. \"Hey, do you like being a janitor here?\"\n\n\"No, but honestly, mang, it pays better than a lot of other jobs 'round here. I was lucky to know people here.\" I sniffed. \"Probably will be able to send my friend's kid to college, for real.\"\n\n\"You never think about,\" his smile faltered for a moment, \"The other thing?\"\n\n\"Nah man,\" I shook my head. \"My grandmother always said trying to get to Heaven gets you into Hell. Also, I'm not gonna listen to the words of a red-skinned devil.\"\n\n\"Lesser demon,\" the powerful CEO corrected me. \"And you're probably right. I've a meeting right now. This was a good,\" he straightened his tie, \"talk.\"\n\nHe was gone then, around a corner towards the corner that corporate hid out in. I turned back to my cleaning duties, whistling a tune. I went to empty out a trash can in one of the side meeting rooms, the same trashcan I had gone to empty a year ago with some - well I would say divine, but hellish might be better - hellish timing.\n\n----\n\nLater that night, while my kid was doing his homework, there was a panicked knock on my door. Not like a friend was at the door, but like there was some gangmember beating at it with a piece. I motioned for my kid to get low, and I slowly got up from the table. Trying to stay away from the windows, I crept to the door and squinted through the musted up hole.\n\nI opened the door immediately when I saw who it was. \"Mister Selendrick, what you doing here, man?\"\n\n\"Ryan, please, just hear me out -\"\n\nI pulled the fool in and shut the door as fast as I could. \"No, man, you're white! You're gonna get shot out here at night!\"\n\nHe ignored me, leaning on me with his full weight. \"You're not going to die, right?\" he asked, his voice cracking.\n\n\"What the hell-\"\n\n\"I don't want to go to Hell! I don't care about Heaven, but please don't let me go where my father is,\" he pleaded. He leaned on me and whimpered. I smelled some sort of wimpy Chinese alcohol on his breath.\n\nI sighed and looked away, and noticed the kid peeking from the kitchen. \"Go back to your homework,\" I commanded. \"It's just my drunk-ass stupid white boss.\"\n\nThe said boss whimpered again and began to quietly sob. I patted him on the back until he fell into a mumbling sleep, then got my kid to help me set him up in our living room. Some papers with some wierd fantasty bullshit scribblings fell out of his faux-cashmere coat, so I folded and stuffed them back in as neatly as I could.\n\nI stood looking over the man, much later that night. The kid stood next to me, half leaning on my hip.\n\n\"Ryan?\" the kid began to ask me.\n\n\"What's up, kid?\"\n\n\"Was there really a demon in that room?\" he looked at me with his big brown eyes.\n\n\"Nah,\" I told him, \"Just a bunch of scared people imagining things.\"\n\n\"So my dad was scared? Of what?\"\n\nI bit my lip. \"Let's get to sleep, kid.\"\n\n\"I miss him.\"\n\nI remembered the man that got me my job. \"Me too, kid.\"\n\nWe walked away to our bedrooms.\n\nSo, I clean other people's messes and keep things tidy. Not a rewarding job. Glancing back at the man sleeping restlessly on the couch, I wondered if I could maybe prevent a mess.\n\n", "It all began in 2002 I was in a boardroom meeting with about twenty people in it. I was only an intern sitting in the corner taking notes. Things were going great until the demon came. The demon was tall, tall enough to have to duck as it appeared to avoid going through the ceiling. It was not what you might expect from a demon, there were no horns, no red skin, there was however red hair. The hair was blaze red, no one dared to touch it but something tells me if they were they would disintegrate on the spot. He wore sunglasses at first, everyone stopped talking immediately. It's kind of difficult to remember your train of thought when a massive \"person\" appears out of no where. It was at first not making any sense, saying what appeared to be random words. Then with a voice louder than any loud I have ever heard before it said that \"Everyone present for the beginning of the end shall go to heaven, except for the final one, they shall burn in hell for eternity.\" I remember all of the words to this day, you don't forget something like that. He took off his glasses and looked into the eyes of everyone, very deeply. His eyes were not eyes they were like an endless abyss, I thought that if I was to look for long I might loose my mind. yet I couldn't look away. He left in an instant.\n\nFor the next month or so there were random cases of a collection of odd diseases spreading in the office. Several people quit whenever they suddenly contracted the black plague. Then the suicides began, I suppose after seeing something like that your willpower can only hold-out for so long until it snaps. First was the boss, he ran through his 50th story office window. No one knew why unless they were present for the Demon. There were many suicides to follow until There was just five of us left. We never talked of the incident though we must all still remember, because of all of the suicides. It took five years for one of us to die, another suicide.\n\nIn that five years I decided to start trying to talk to women, as I was very lonely being in an office job with almost no friends. I met this amazing woman, curly blonde hair, a smile that would light up a thousand and a half rooms. She was also present for the demon I suppose that should have been a red flag, but she was so perfect I had to try. It was surprisingly easy, once I talked to her I became her friend. After a while I decided to ask her out, she said yes. We went out for about three years then I proposed. When we married everything seemed normal. \n\nThen two years later, another one killed themselves. I could tell it put her on edge as well, because she decided to not sleep, or eat for a few days. That led to a fight in which I slept on the couch for a while. The fourth killed themselves soon after, we both knew that there was only one other person. That's whenever we talked about it, for the first time in ever I talked with someone about the incident. She remembered it exactly the same, down to the last detail. I figured that the incident was burned into our brains.\n\nIt's been another twenty years whenever we heard of the other one killing herself. I was fairly healthy, but still she pushed me to go to the doctor. That's whenever I found out that I had cancer. I was given about a year to live. I wouldn't except things that way.\n\nI had held on for a long time, but I had already made it six months past originally predicted. My lovely wife still strong as an ox. I was not going to let her go to hell. I decided that I would cook her food, in the food I would poison her. We sat down to our last meal together, and ate. I went to the bathroom to puke, being very sick with all of the cancer. When I got back something wasn't right, my spaghetti didn't taste quite right. I dismissed it as I wasn't a good cook. Then halfway through things started to get fuzzy and my wife started weeping. She said that she switched the plates when I went to the bathroom. I was shaking for about thirty seconds until my vision left, then I couldn't move, then I couldn't breathe. Then there was a bright flash of light and I saw pearly gates. Though I was in heaven I stomped the ground and cursed it, I cried for what seemed like forever. Until I realized as much as I loved her she loved me more. I wasn't letting her sacrifice go in vain. I entered and saw heaven.", "I brought the gun up to my temple, finger resting on the trigger. Sat there for a second, finger tightening. Then I dropped it back into my lap, for the third time in half an hour. I sighed impatiently. \n\nThere were only two of us left now, me and Barry Garin, the accounting guy. Since being told the last of us to die was bound for hell (while the rest were guaranteed a no-questions-asked seat in heaven)... Well. Things got a tad messy. Hell, after the third (Jolene Bennett, marketing) I'm pretty sure they were all competing for who could bust out the messiest, most outlandish method of suicide. You ever see a man leap off the roof of his office and try to land on his family? Has to be seen to be believed. \n\nMe, I was happy with the classic 'bullet to the brain'. I would have taken the Hemingway Solution, but sadly lack the coordination required to use a shotgun on myself. Anyway, doing it with a revolver felt right, somehow. Like I was a cowboy or something. \n\nAh, fuck it. I tried snapping my hand up and pulling the trigger in one go, which went spectacularly wrong when I got too trigger happy and blew a hole in my wall. \"Well, Jesus Christ!\" I snapped, throwing the gun across the room, where it went off again and put another damn hole in the wall. \n\n\"Not quite.\" \n\nI turned so fast I actually heard something crackle in my neck. There he was again, the creature who had shown up in our boardroom and given us that sick challenge of his. He didn't look like the devil - he looked like a regular man in his late forties, pretty pale, dark hair and eyes, tall, lean, and entirely at home in a room with an armed suicide case. \n\n\"Alan,\" he said brightly, throwing me a wicked smile. \"How are we feeling?\"\n\n\"Could you not?\" I snapped, retrieving my gun. I wasn't stupid enough to point it at him, but didn't risk pointing it at myself, either. Not with him in the room. I dumped it in the nearest drawer instead. \n\n\"Performance anxiety?\" He said, his vaguely Midwestern drawl soothing, even under the circumstances. I knew better than to be sucked in, though. This time around, I knew better. \n\n\"I'm not doing it.\" I said. \"I don't care if I do spend an eternity in hell, I don't care what you've got to say to me, I'm...\"\n\n\"Congratulations.\"\n\nThat wasn't what I was expecting. All I managed to sputter in response was complete gibberish, which made him laugh. He stood, brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his jeans, and ostentatiously checked his watch. \n\n\"Garin died half an hour ago, though technically he killed himself earlier today.\" He smiled again, wolfish, though his tone was pleasant. \"Got himself bit by a rattler. That makes you the last man standing.\"\n\nEven knowing that was going to be the outcome, my heart sank. Hell. For eternity. What had I done? I dropped my head into my hands, trying not to cry. He just laughed again, then stepped forward to take my shoulder. \n\n\"Do you know where suicides go, traditionally, Alan?\" He didn't wait for an answer. \"Purgatory. You know where they go if their suicide is an attempt to curry favour with the big guy downstairs?\" \n\nI looked up quickly, meeting his dark, dark eyes. I could see myself reflected in there, way down deep - a tiny, ashen smudge. He nodded, squeezing my shoulder in an almost fatherly gesture. \n\n\"You've got a free pass, kid. Barring any mortal sins, of course, so you might want to read up on them. Maybe have a quick Google for 'deals with the devil' at the same time.\"\n\nHe winked and turned to go. \"Wait!\" I choked out, shivering as he turned back. He didn't look impatient, though. Only amused. I had the feeling he'd be wearing the same look if my brains were painting the walls. \n\nI couldn't say anything else, but must have read it on my face. \"Sometimes the big cheese sends angels to test you folk, or plagues,\" he said it gently, thoughtfully, \"sometimes he needs someone a little more... More.\" He patted me on the shoulder again. \"You be good, kid. And whenever you feel like being an ass for no reason, you just remember - I'll be keeping an eye on you.\"\n\nWith that, he was gone. No poof, no puff of brimstone, just gone, like he was never there. Anyway, that's how I came to quit my job at one of the world's biggest Fortune 500 companies, and how I'm here, taking your order today. So. What'll it be?", "It's amazing how little life means to people once they realise they're going to Heaven. All of them judging others, casting the first stone yet not being without sin, all of them claiming to lead a good life. If they believed that, why were so many in such a hurry to leave? Suddenly all of the cliches about how beautiful life is, how God says life is a blessing, become meaningless.\n\nSix died within two weeks. Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't have if they didn't spend so much time together, but they did. When the demon appeared, they couldn't believe what they were told. But it played on their minds too much. Men and women that hardly ever saw each other outside of work were calling, arranging to meet up somewhere quiet and talk through the events of that fateful day.\n\nThe first one to go was Andrew. A young man, not very high up on the food chain in business, but he was plagued with depression to begin with, and as the gravity of the demon's appearance began to sink in, so too did his panic. Eventually he hanged himself, earned himself a one-way ticket to Heaven, and so began the deaths.\n\nThey weren't all suicides. Stress can cause a lot of damage to the body, and even the knowledge alone that demons, that Hell, that Heaven, were real, was too great a burden for someone to carry. Victoria had a heart attack on her way home from work. She was rushed to the hospital, but she was gone. In her 60s, though, no-one was suspicious. Just a tragic death.\n\nWhat was tragic, however, was Henry, his wife and their young daughter. Late one night, he strangled his wife in her sleep, then did the same to the little girl, before shooting himself in the head. The neighbours were shocked, as was everyone who knew Henry...except his coworkers. They knew his reasons, though all had agreed that the demon said nothing about family members being part of the deal, and that Henry had murdered his wife and daughter for no reason. No-one mourned him, however. Not when their numbers were dwindling to just a few.\n\nMichael shot himself about a year after the demon had first appeared, leaving only two left: David and Jane. Both were trying to carry on as normal, but they were in a constant state of worry.\n\n\"How are you holding up?\" David had asked one evening, as they sat in a cafe together, as they often did these days; each other their only source of solace. \n\nJane shrugged. \"I just want things to be normal. I wish it could go back. They might be in Heaven, but the process has been like Hell.\"\n\n\"Yeah. But I have to ask,\" David dropped his voice to almost a whisper, \"Why haven't you ended it? What's keeping you going?\" There was a look of worry in his eyes, like he was trying to gauge her motives, to better judge when he should act.\n\nThinking for a moment in silence, Jane sipped her coffee. \"I guess I'm just...not done living. I don't want to live like this, but I do want to live. I don't want to hurry off to the afterlife, I was given life, and I'm not old, I'm not ready to leave yet. What about you?\"\n\n\"I just...I don't want to die. I felt like if enough people died, it would be left to a few that didn't want to die either\" David answered, simply. He smiled, somewhat nervously but mostly genuinely. \"Suppose we'll just have to take it slowly, right?\"\n\nJane smiled back, warmly. \"Yeah. I think you're right. Now that it's just us, neither of us want to kill ourselves. So there's no reason for either of us to panic, is there? We're both young, we can just enjoy life while it lasts.\"\n\nThose were the words of comfort they gave to each other, each clinging to the other's reasons like a lifeboat, hoping they stay true to it.\n\nThey did. They're still alive. Unlike the almost two dozen others that rushed off to meet death so quickly, so briefly, before going to Heaven. At least, that's where they thought they were going. I was pleasantly surprised by their idiocy. I sent one of my demons to them, to tell them of this wonderful news, and not a single one of them questioned the veracity of it all. That a demon would bring news of Heaven...how silly.\n\nIt wasn't the easiest way to bring souls to Hell, but it was, by far, the most enjoyable method to watch." ]	[ 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 14 ]	[ "1452306128", "1452281571", "1452282643", "1452297067", "1452284405", "1452278628" ]
	[WP] The story starts out as a normal hostage situation but as it progresses we find out that the captor was the hostage all along	3	[ "The cute Indian girl looked so terrified I wanted to ask her what was wrong. Oh, right. The gun pointed at her face. By me.\n\nI don't want you to get the wrong impression of me. This situation just got out of control. It was out of my hands; I swear.\n\nAlright. I did tell the lady at the register \"this is a robbery\". Would you believe if I said I didn't mean for it to come this far? Sure, I had this gun and I'd had the idea for some time, but I didn't plan this. I really didn't, you know?\n\nOkay. I'll be honest: I might have gotten myself into this situation.\n\n\"Please, I've got children.\"\n\n\"Lots of people have children, sweetheart,\" I told her. \"That doesn't make you special. Look at that guy.\" I pointed at a fat man in a beige suit. \"He's probably got children. Just because he's not avant-garde perfume commercial material doesn't mean he's less important than you. I bet you don't even know his name.\"\n\n\"J-Jim,\" she said.\n\n\"It's Carl,\" the man said.\n\nI'd never been in a robbery before. I looked at all these people. People working at a bank. That had to be nice. I'd never had such a nice job. If I wore a suit to any job I'd had, I'd be laughed at. Ridiculed. There were also people who just came to take care of their money business. Customers. I'd be pissed off if someone robbed a bank while I was there. Their hours are messed up. You have to take time off just to fit with their schedule. You have to accommodate. I've never taken kindly to shit like that.\n\nI suddenly decided I wanted to be a good guy.\n\n\"You,\" I said, pointing at a guy with a modern hair cut. I was going to ask him to fetch some money and throw it around. Let the customers have a nice time collecting big bills. But his hair annoyed me. Because it just looked off to me. Strange. And that meant I was the freak. The weird one. His hair told me \"fuck off, you loser.\" I don't take that shit from no one.\n\nThey screamed so much when I shot him. As if they didn't see it coming. I was aiming at his hairline, but I'm a lousy shot. But that's not the sort of thing you reveal when you're threatening people with a gun. So I pointed the gun around like some crazy person and said: \"Who's next?\"\n\nOh, how they cried.\n\nIt was just about then I noticed something was wrong. The colors started shifting somehow. The people morphed into each other, slowly melding together.\n\n\"Command center? I've got some spec issues here,\" I said. \"Command center? Hello? Anyone there?\"\n\nI waited for a few seconds before I heard a strange voice.\n\n\"We have seized control over your body.\"\n\n\"Who is this?\"\n\n\"Please wait for instructions.\"\n\n\"Hello? Hey! Who is this?\"\n\nThe simulation got messed up. The cute Indian girl now looked like some pre-2000's video game character. Like pixels.\n\n\"You will remain in the Simulatr. Glory to the Empire. Long live the Unsung Masses. Death to the Consumers.\"\n\nThe cheeky tag-lines of the revolutionaries had always made me laugh. Not anymore.\n\n\"Please,\" I said. \"Get me out of here.\"\n\n\"When our demands are met, you will be free to go. If the Corporate Head of the Consumers refuses to accept our demands, we will have no choice but to demonstrate our conviction. Glory to the Empire. Death to the Consumers.\"\n\nBit by bit, the world around me disappeared. As almost nothing remained, I put the pixelated barrel of my gun in my mouth.\n\n\"Good byte,\" I said, and all was darkness.", "His eyes were the first thing I noticed when the lights flickered on. Not his fat, bruised lip or his matted, dirty hair but his eyes. They were wide and panicked eyes, the eyes of an animal bound and awaiting slaughter. His fear gave me strength. The duct tape was tight; the gag was performing its job well. He didn’t move much nor did he talk, and neither did I. We stared at each other, hunter and prey. His eyes were panicky, looking for a way to escape; mine were calm, stern, delighting in the thought that soon he would be in great pain. \n\nHis clothes were torn, the bloody parts weren’t as red as they had been an hour ago. The cuts were beginning to scab and the stains in his clothes were crusting over. The journey to this small windowless room hadn’t been pleasant for him, I had made certain of that. He had made it to this room, a room far away enough away from the world to keep anyone from hearing screams or getting nosy. Just the fact that he had made it here meant he was tough, but that façade was cracking and underneath it I could see his fear. His anguish fed me, I devoured his pain and it empowered me.\n\nMy silence unnerved him, my stillness, my confidence. He knew that soon his life would be getting much worse, and I was content to watch him sweat. I wondered if he had friends, family members, anyone who would miss him. But I didn’t really care. His raspy breaths and the dull buzz from the single, glaring fluorescent bulb punctuated our silence. The waiting was killing him.\n\nOur silent moment shattered.\n\n“This is the police.” The electronic squeal of the megaphone rang through the small room. “Do not hurt the boy. You have five minutes to come outside with your hands up.”\n\nThe police had seen us as we fled to this room. We had lost them on the way here but we both knew it only a matter of time until they found us. His shoulders collapsed. His head hung low. He knew it was over. He glared at me, his eyes hard. His desires had trapped him more tightly than the duct tape he had put around my wrists. I watched him burn, his shame and fear destroying him from the inside. I wanted him to know that he didn’t own me. I smiled at him as best I could through the rag he had shoved into my mouth. I wanted him to know that he couldn’t hurt me anymore. I wanted him to know that even here, strapped down, beaten and forced into girl’s clothes, I was more powerful than him. Finally, I was free.\n" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1452294844", "1452297567" ]
[removed]	[WP] Any haiku using words you make up - just to see what sounds cool...	3	[ "Off in the distance \nSparrows softly renicate \nTurns my heart to stone ", "nye nelev inwaz\n\ninensigh djabaan djitfyool\n\ncannat milts tealbeems\n\nNote: Submissions have to be at least thirty words, so I added this bike l note in order to ward off Automod.", "Hi there, \n\nThis post has been removed as it violates the following rules: \n\n\nWe do not allow prompts that promote responses under 30 words long, under Rule #1. Sorry! Happy cake day!\n\n\n\nPlease refer to the sidebar before posting. If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to message the /r/WritingPrompts moderators.\n\n---\n\n[Link to the removed post](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/4040zf/wp_any_haiku_using_words_you_make_up_just_to_see/)" ]	[ 1, 2, 2 ]	[ "1452301481", "1452300389", "1452301498" ]
Eventually the big brother thing goes too far, and instead of cops and prisons and room 101, the government sends large men to do older brother shit to criminals and dissidents. You could be a mafia don in the middle of dinner and three dozen large men will show up to give you a wedgie, hold you down on your table, and pink belly you for twenty minutes in front of everyone. You? You're one of the worst kind of scumbags there are. There are men coming to get you, and when they find you they are going to play stop hitting yourself, and you are going to lose. But what have you done?	[WP] In the future, crimes are punished differently.	5	[ "The future's punishments are basically my childhood. 3 older brothers = Having to pick my underwear out of my butt, basically everyday. Damn... Those wedgies were killers... Pretty sure I got every wedgie in the book: Atomic, Front, Side, Hanging. One of these days I'm gonna just dunk my brothers' heads in the toilet, give them titty twisters, and rip their underwear out of their pants.", "It took centuries of struggle, but at last we did it. We eliminated racism, sexism, any other ism that you can think of. Everyone worked to their best of their ability and everyone supported everyone else. There were no poor among us and someone from the past might have thought that we were living in what they used to call communism, only it was the purest possible form of what they used to call democracy, with everyone sharing only because everyone wanted to. The only punishment now, for every crime, was some sort of time out.\n\nGo sit by yourself, don't participate with us, a sort of localized or global shun depending on the person. There was always much rejoicing after a punishment period had ended, so that the person was always confident that we weren't holding it against them. Having done their time, so the saying went, they'd paid for their crime. Recidivism was so close to zero that it might as well not exist.\n\nBut what were they to do with me? I'd wanted a piece of banana cake and when one hadn't been given to me I'd killed for it. Normally that would be a few years ban, nobody would speak to me, everyone would pretend that they couldn't see me, a global shunning. But what were they to do with me when I'd been born congenitally blind and deaf and had never really interacted with anyone in the first place?\n\n> There are three parts to every story. The beginning, the middle, and the twist.\n\n> [More by me](https://www.reddit.com/r/kj6bwb/)" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1452321854", "1452320259" ]
[WP] You travel to a pathetic little house your ancestors lived in centuries ago. While exploring it, you find an old book in a shelf who's first page reads "For (your name)".	[WP] You travel to a pathetic little house your ancestors lived in centuries ago. While exploring it, you find an old book in a shelf who's first page reads "For (your name)".	136	[ "There's a place every urbex-er, teenager, and curious neighbor of our little community should go to. It's not too far from where you and I live; a 5-minute walk is all it takes to get there.\n\nIt's a little cabin, nothing special on the outside. It's not the kind of thing that stands out, rather the type of place you might imagine an elderly couple spending their final days, years, and weeks together, enjoying a cup of tea and reading a book. There's a calm, peaceful atmosphere to it once you get past the graffiti and smashed beer bottles. You can do lots of things here. Finish up your novel, listen to some music, or just run your hand along the dusty, once-smooth rail on the porch.\n\nHowever, whatever you do, do not go into the cellar. I won't disclose the exact location, but it is in the backyard. If you do find it, and want to explore, then I cannot stop you. In this case, I can only advise you to stay away from the bookshelf on the far right. There will be a book, with 'For Arienne' engraved on the spine in gold. If you do open it, your life will improve. You'll find money in your account that you didn't put there. People will trust you. You'll get promotions. You might even win the lottery!\n\nBut words can't describe the magnitude of what you will have to live with. A burden; that is what you'll be. I found out the hard way.\n\nSo now that you have this knowledge, I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me for what I'm doing, and may we see each other again one day.\n\nEDIT: Clarification", "The roads were gravel, and the way was into the mountains. \n\nI decided to trace my family's heritage, in search of my inheritance, and I decided to take the same roads by ancestors took when establishing their farming plot. \n\nIn the fields there are broken down 1800s farming equipment. In the distance is the run down barn, and a run down mansion of a house. \n\nGetting to the door, the screen door falls down and startled a stray cat out into the road. Inside were cobwebs and peeling wallpaper. The place stunk of mold. \n\n\"Hello!\" I scream, and the only response I get is the creaking of the floors and the shoveling noises of a possum. \n\nFirst floor was plain, you could see the whole thing at a glance, so I walked slowly up the stairs as to avoid as many insects as possible. \n\nThere was a stowaway bed in one of the rooms, that folded up into a recently renovated oak frame, it looked brand new, and worth at least 800 bucks, and it was the only thing in the room. \n\n'Whys it look so new?' I ask myself. \n\nI rub the dust from the insignia of the front, \"Petersonmanbergeson\", that's my last name. Hydraulic pumps let off, and the bed starts to open, so I dash to the side. It fully opens, and there lies a book and a futuristic robotic glove. \n\nI put the glove on, and instantly I become aware of it as if it is a part of me. \n\nI open the book, and the first page reads, \"Dear Johnderson Bradleyton Brando-Petersonmanbergeson, take this glove and make your own universe. Its a time travel glove with futuristic energy weapons and shielding. Wherever you go in the past, you will be a God among men, and will be capable of controlling the universe, as long as you have that glove. Once you create this universe though, you can never come back to your life as it is now, and you must be careful as to not make the human race extinct.\" \n\nSecond page shows a hand sign, accompanied with a movement, \"step 1, think in your mind a destination in the past\", 'uh, ok, 1 A.D.'. I look at the glove and on a screen it reads \"1 A.D. , Rome\"\n\n\"Step two, make hand gesture as seen on diagram 1.\" 'Curl all fingers but the index and thumb, check'\n\n\"Step three, move hand in direction as shown in diagram 2.\" 'K, move index and thumb toward empty space or wall.' Boom! A portal blows open to Rome, 1 A.D.. \n\n\"Remember to keep your book with you, your shields always on to prevent getting disease. Be safe.\" \n\nI look back at my life, for a second, the incessant pursuit to put my technology and engineering degrees to work, the endless, never ending climb to the top. And then I walk in. \n\nInstantly the portal closes behind me, and I startle a market place full of people. I stand in front of them in all my new glory, \"tis whence forth from thine, is thou leader in command?\" \n\n\"That building over there!\" A merchant cries out. \n\n\"Thanks.\" I start walking over to the building, when a detachment of spearmen start jabbing at the shield that's around me, only to break their spears and get electrocuted. \n\nBriskly I walked passed, and the other soldiers stood down. \n\nI walked in that castle and started flipping tables, throwing laser beams, and disintegrated every official looking person in the building. \n\nWalked out, and everyone trembled to my feet. \n\n\"I'm top dog now! I am your leader! And first and only order of business, is mining the copper mines, farming, and getting along. Any wars with other countries will be dealt by me. The technology age starts now.\" ", "It was an English cottage, technically. \n\nI bet when you think 'English cottage,' you think of a little, stone building with ivy running up the walls. Well, that's what I think of, anyway. Needless to say, when I was told that I had inherited a bloody cottage in bloody England, I was elated. Until I saw the actual building.\n\nIt looked like it was made of cardboard, with some rotten straw piled on the top. I wished that I thought it was a mistake, and that someone would run up and tell me that no, actually the cottage you inherited is on the OTHER side of the property. It was a ridiculous notion, since I could see all ends of the property, which held only a few half-dead trees.\n\nI sighed deep in my gut, and trudged to the door. I let my backpack slide onto the ground and promptly pushed the door off its rusted, rotten, bloody hinges. On accident. All I did was give it a nudge and...whatever.\n\nI walked over the door and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Light shone through the walls, and the rotted straw roof smelled like it had had time to fill the whole place with rot and mold. \n\nIt was probably for the best that it caved in on me, at least in the long run. If it hadn't, a hard-cover book would never have nearly knocked me unconscious by falling on my head. A book which held pages. Pages which fell out upon my opening the book. Well, what could you expect? It had spent eternity in a rotten, straw roof.\n\nI looked into the inside of the cover, and noticed an irregularity in the surface. It looked like there was something shoved into the binding. I took out my pocket knife and cut the leather open. A white, crisp envelope erratically soared to the ground and landed about a yard away. \n\nI took a minute to slowly bend over, so I wouldn't get too dizzy and fall on top of it, and I took my time in the balancing act to get out of a couple feet of disgusting, brown mush. \n\nSitting down on my backpack, I looked over the envelope, and cut it open. \n\nIt was my property, after all.\n\nI smoothed out the pages inside, and read the first line. Then I stopped. I read the first line again. I took out my reading glasses and read it again.\n\n\"Bolloux,\" I murmured to myself. The page was written in neat, cursive handwriting down the center of beautifully perfect writing paper with a half inch margin on either side.\n\nI read the first line again.\n\n\"For Saffron, my unborn, great-granddaughter.\n\n\"I understand that this is pretty trippy for you, especially considering that, for me, the year is 1856. Actually, this is more trippy for me. Get over it, the world's not about you. \n\n\"Now for the important stuff.\n\n\"As you can tell from my language, I am clearly not from the 19th century. I was trapped back here, and am now technically free to come back, as I've had a child who can go on to make you.\n\n\"Who am I? you may ask, and how did you get there?\n\n\"I'm Rachel, from school.\n\n\"Get. Me. Home.\n\n\"Once more, get over it, time travel is real, bla bla bla. This is more important: I have to wear a dress EVERY DAY. \n\n\"Call this number: #-###-###-#### and he can get to me and get me home.\n\n\"Sincerely, Rachel\"", "I gripped the hefty book. It was strange, the feeling of holding it. Then again, this whole situation was strange. Every other shelf was overflowing with books of all colors (faded by age, but probably vibrant in their own time) and sizes, but this shelf had only this ratty brown (and frankly water stained) old tome. What made this book so special. Stranger still was this library in such a worn and poor house. The build and size of the abode told of poverty, a life with little wealth and less education. How my great great great great...whatever grandfather afforded all these books and learned to read them was a mystery. I sighed and put the book back on the table located directly in the middle of the room, surrounded on all sides by walls of books.\n\nI pulled the letter out of my back pocket, and pondered its message once again:\n\nTo Whom it May Concern\n\nIt has come to the attention of the Framingham Town Council that a large plot of land is in the possession of your family, and that you remain the last able \"inheritor\". Even though the property is of small size, it's location is of great consequence to the town, and our plans to pave a new road to accommodate increased traffic. Our town would be greatly indebted to you, if you would survey the property and perhaps sell us the land. We have attached an estimate of our value, but please feel free to survey the land yourself.\n\nEver in you debt,\n\nHelmond Key\n\nI sat at the desk, and sighed. The land was of no consequence to me whatsoever, and the offer would be more than enough for me, and it was as the letter said. I was the only one left in my family and life. In many ways, I was just like this book, all alone on my pathetic dusty shelf. I blew some of the dust off, like they did in the movies, and promptly started sneezing. I pulled out a silk handkerchief my father had given me when I was younger, and quickly wiped my nose and glasses.\n\nI picked up the book again, and decided to figure out why this book was so special. I opened it up and leafed through a few pages, it was all diary entries. There was poetry too, all from the life of some relative that lived in the 1800s. It was pretty entertaining actually, from what I could tell, my dear ancestor was a thirsty young bastard when it came to his interactions with the ladies...and a few young men from what I could tell.\n\nI was getting into an interesting anecdote about the former Governor's wife, when I heard a loud crack, as if someone had split stone. I dropped the book in surprise, and quickly opened the door back into the kitchen, and looked around in surprise. The sun was going down, but other than that, I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. I picked the book back up, and was about to look for my page again, when something caught my eye.\n\nIn large red printed letters, not the lacy cursive that I had seen previously written was the text: For Emil Lee, My Dear Inheritor\n\nIt was signed:\n\nEver yours\n\nEverette Laughton, 154th heir of the Laughing Dead\n\nIt was strange. this house was inherited from my father's side. I only started using my Mother's maiden name recently, Lee, and there was no way the two families had known each other before. i mean, my mom's side was entirely Korean and only immigrated to the US last generation.\n\nAs I pondered the mystery, I realized that the Sun was setting. I got up and stretched. Likely, it was just another man who just happened to share my name that caught the fancy of my fickle ancestor.\n\nI calmly got up, and tried the door. It remained shut, and then I heard the voice of a young man echo from the study I just left, \"It would do you great good, to read things addressed to you. Might save your life.\"", "The road, if it could be called that, was pitted and pocked with decades of wear, and more decades of neglect. The tire hit something, jerking the wheel, and Dawn cursed. Why am I driving out to this God-forsaken place, anyway?\n\nShe hadn't expected much, when her father died. He'd threatened to disown her when she dropped out of law school, and they hadn't spoken in years. This, though, was more insulting than getting nothing. A rotting old cabin in the middle of the woods. In the middle of nowhere.\n\nAnd her cousin ends up with the family fortune.\n\nWhatever. She'd made her own way in the world up till now, no point in changing things.\n\nShe rounded another bend, a wary eye straying to the needle. She'd filled up at the last station on the main road and knew if she went under half a tank she'd have to walk. The needle hovered dangerously near the midpoint.\n\nAnother curve. And another. And there it was. Worse than she could have imagined. Dawn shut off the car and stepped out into the clearing. \n\nThe 'cabin' was built of a rotting wood, made so dark by time and mold and damp that it was almost black. A blue tarp fluttered over a hole that she supposed was meant to be a window, though any remnants of glass had been blown away long ago. A few planks of wood passed for a door.\n\nThe whole thing couldn't be much more than a single room. Had her great-grandfather really grown up in this pit? It was hard to imagine.\n\nDawn circled the car and opened the trunk. A grey plastic bucket held a wealth of cleaning supplies, but now she wasn't sure it would be enough.\n\nThe provisions of the inheritance forbade her from selling or destroying the dump, but that didn't mean she had to let the place go to hell. Maybe she could clear some of the land, build something here, even rent it out to someone. Maybe they could use the cabin as a storage shed.\n\nThere was nothing left to do but go inside. Steeling herself against whatever horrors might wait inside, she strode to the door. Unlocked, it opened easily at her touch, so easily that it banged against the outside of the shack. The loud crack was startling in the stillness, and Dawn jumped, then laughed at herself.\n\nThe cabin was nearly empty. No one had bothered to cover the few bits of furniture - a table and two wooden stools, an armchair, something that looked like it had once been a mattress - and it was all riddled with holes and coated in a thick layer of dust. There was a small, black wood-stove in the center of the room. She followed its pipe up and through the roof. Cobwebs were strewn, not just in the corners, but on every available surface. To her right, a ladder led to a small loft filled with what she assumed was rotting, mold-coated hay.\n\nDawn took a deep breath, regretting it immediately, and got to work.\n\nHours later, half-starved, she stopped, leaning back on her heels, and took a look around. It wasn't as bad as she thought. The room, though there was only one, seemed more spacious now that she'd removed the crumbling mattress. The window could be fitted with a new pane of glass. A new door. There was no electricity, but the wood stove might still work, once she finished cleaning it out. It was actually kind of pretty, in a quaint, Norman Rockwell sort of way. At least in the areas she'd cleaned.\n\nHer stomach rumbled, and she decided that she'd go for lunch. First though, she wanted to get that hay out of the loft, along with any critters hiding there, and take inventory of what supplies she might still need.\n\nThe ladder creaked and groaned as she climbed, but held. There was no mattress here. No furniture. Nothing but hay and decay. There was barely room to sit up, and she found herself ducking her head as she crawled. She made a snap decision and began shoving the hay straight off the edge of the loft. She could sweep or shovel it outside when she was done.\n\nNear the wall, her arm banged into something half-buried. She scooped hay and debris away and found a tiny shelf built into the wall. On the shelf, glued to the surface with decades of mold, were a small leather-bound book, and a tiny brass key.\n\nLunch forgotten, Dawn climbed back down the ladder and got her rags. Back to the loft. She got the mold off of the key first, and pried it from the wood. Next, the book. Carefully, afraid that the slightest touch would cause the ancient pages to crumble into dust, Dawn wiped the mold from the shelf around the book. She hoped it hadn't cemented beneath the cover as well, and bit the inside of her cheek as she gently peeled it away. \n\nThe book resisted only a bit at first, then came so easily to her hand, it sent her reeling backward. She almost tumbled from the loft, caught herself, and cradled the book to her chest.\n\nThere was barely enough light up here to see her own hands, so she climbed down the ladder again. She lay the book on a clean bit of floor and held a breath as she opened the cover with a single finger. Please don't crumble, she offered a silent plea. The first pages were blank. Yellowed with age, and black specks of mold dotted the edges. The third page held a single paragraph of writing in a neat, tiny hand.\n\nDawn had to squint to make it it out.\n\nFᴏʀ Dᴀᴡɴ,\n\nit read.\n\nIɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs.\n\nThe rest was too faded to make out in the gloom. Dawn's mind was reeling. It had to be a coincidence, or some ancestor who'd borne her name, but it was unsettling to see her name in the crumbling journal. And she couldn't completely shake an eerie feeling that these words were meant for her.\n\nShe was reluctant to take the fragile pages out of the cabin. She set the book on the rickety table and considered it. She'd need light. Something to handle the pages with. A magnifying glass? Couldn't hurt. She'd also pick up a notebook and a pen to copy the book. \n\nBy the time she reached the gas station, got directions, found a restaurant, ate, and found a store, it was early evening. She shopped quickly, finding most supplies easily, but no notebooks. Finally, just as she was beginning to give up hope, she spied a child's pink diary on a shelf of impulse buys near the register. It would have to do.\n\nThe surly cashier rang her up without so much as a hello, and glared through the window as she packed everything into the car. More cleaning supplies, food, candles, flashlights, batteries... the only magnifier she'd found was a small one, in an eyeglass repair kit. She hoped she wouldn't need much else for one night.\n\n----\n\n(To Be Continued)", "Edit: Accidental typo.\n\nI was excited to find the house where my ancestors had lived. It had been at least five generations, maybe six since my family had even been in the area, but I was excited to learn that the plot of sheep-grazing land my grandfather had left me had a small, livable house on it. Much of my family preferred the city, but I LOVED the country and open fields, and didn't mind sheep (or their droppings).\n\nI was surprised when I reached the house, but hardly disappointed. It was more a cottage than a shack, and while I expected it to be in the middle of a wide expanse, there was a beautiful copse along the back and sides of the house. It looked hundreds of years old, but diligently patched by family members and contracted groundskeepers. It took only a few minutes to explore the house in its entirety, but from the looks of it, I would be finding hidey-holes and secret cupboards for months to come. The most interesting thing was a bookshelf with little on it; a set of Farmer's Alamnacs from the 19th century, some collections of old publish-by-chapter novels, and a few newer books that had presumably been left by keepers and wandering tenants. One of the three shelves had a book lying on its own, and I told myself to return for it as soon as I'd found a place to drop my heavy backpack. That place turned out to be the bedroom (who'd have guessed?). I rolled my sleeping bag out on the floor, wanting to avoid the bedbugs that could be in the old hay-stuffed mattress held up to the bedframe with ropes. A few nights of discomfort while waiting for a bed to be delivered was nothing, but I drew the line before itchy, biting bugs that would require a flea bath, or worse. I took out my mobile and one of the battery-powered chargers I'd brought to order a new bed online, but discovered that there was no internet connection out here. I'd asked the solicitor about wireless connections out here, and he'd given me the okay, but he was from a different generation. He may have not even HAD internet on his mobile phones.\n\nI grabbed the book from the shelf and wandered out to the trees out back. The copse wasn't as deep as it looked, since the far side opened to a watering pond. I found myself a good reading tree, one with a nice, sturdy limb low to the ground, and opened the book.\n\nIt seemed to be an undated diary, but when I flipped back to the first page, the format caught my eye. The first page was a note instead of an entry. \"To the last Henry Michaels.\" I chuckled; while I'd been born Henry Michaels, as had every member of my family's male line in recorded memory, I'd been Julie Michaels since the age of sixteen. Whatever Magician's Force the author wanted to pull, it wouldn't work on me.\n\n\"To the last Henry Michaels:\n\n\"Do NOT stay in the house. Get out, and read this book elsewhere. Stay with a friend. Stay in a cave. Just do not stay here.\n\n\"This house is cursed for you. You may not be the last. If so, incase you can't name your son Henry, or he can't name his son Henry, never use this for a family home. Rent it out. Live here in your old age. Never, NEVER let the last Henry Michaels spend the night here.\n\n\"If you are the last, leave now. May the devil have mercy on your soul, since God never will.\n\n\"-H.M. II\"\n\nI've always been a little superstitious, but never enough to let it affect my life. Even if I'd believed the message, my boyfriend and I had already agreed to name our first son \"Henry\". We'd also agreed to name our first daughter after his grandmother; in that light, keeping a family name going for another zillionth generation was hardly an unfair thing to plan, and we each liked both names. I kept reading.\n\n\"Bette got me this book for a wedding present. She said I should keep writing. I'm going to be a shepherd like my fathers have for scores and scores of years, but she likes that I write as a lawman.\"\n\n\"A lambe was born early. The ewe is healthy. We took the lambe inside the door to keep her warm.\"\n\n\"The lambe is fine.\"\n\n\"The flock has finished birthinged. A damned stripey ram must have gotten into the paddock. The wool will sell for less until I breed it out of the flock.\"\n\n\"Priesf John had dinner with us today. Bette made him take home a loaf of hard bread and a loaf of spiced bread.\"\n\nIt continued like that for many pages. \"H.M. II\" clearly skipped a lot of days, since after the first year the cycle of seasons was only about fifteen or eighteen entries long. It grew too dark to read and, spooked by the inscription at the beginning, I chose to read one of the books I brought by lanternlight until I fell asleep.\n\nThe next day, I hiked into town to pick up a small solar panel and brackets and order a cheap bedframe and mattress. Even in the middle of nowhere, superstores sometimes cropped up these days, and the town was a hub for all the local villages. I had to charge my battery at the diner since it had died in the night, and I guess I mixed up my backups when I was charging them because they were all dead, too.. I hiked back and to set up the panel and explored the land, but by the time I'd fished wandering it was nearly dark. This time, I decided to read more of the journal by lantern-light. Thanks goodness the lantern battery still had juice... or had recharged through the day, I spookily reminded myself.\n\nAfter another apparent year went by, one entry finally broke the pattern:\n\n\"Father died. He always told me horrible storys of ghosts and bugges. He told me a story before he died that he swore on his open grave was true, and said most of the other storys were fake. We almost starved and froze at the same time one year, when I was but an unchristened childe. He called to the devil in the winter to save him from such a death. He says the devil came when mother and me were asleep. He signed his name in blood with his fingertip that the devil would get the soul of Henry Michaels for keeping us from a young death. When the devil vanished, he woke up from his bed, and the snow was stopped. Father went to the empty wood pile, but it wasn't empty. He filled the stove and stayed up until Mother was awake. As soon as he could fetch Priest Lemuel, he had me christened with his name, and spat to spite the devil. The sheep never went a season without lambing. The trees by the house never ran out no matter how much we had to burn in the winter.\n\n\"Father told me this was why he insisted I call my firstborn Henry. He told me to make my Henry call his son Henry. He wanted to cheat the devil, even if it took forever and a day after his own death. I still do not understande, but I wrote a warning in the front of this book for any one of my sons who tryes to live here with his son.\n\n\"I swear by my right hand that my first son will be rich enouf to live in town until he has a grand-son.\"\n\nTHAT creeped me out, but the superstition of an old, dying man explained the message at the beginning of the book. I was relieved. I read a while longer, but despite my worries at ever flickering shadow as the lantern dimmed, I soon fell asleep.\n\nI hiked into town and picked up some food for the next few days, including some fresh eggs to make an omelette for lunch. I LOVE tomato omelettes. To tell the truth, that would be the hardest part of living without a refrigerator.\n\nAfter lunch, I decided to finish the book in one sitting, even if it got dark... not that it was likely to happen, since many of the pages at the end of the book were blank. I sat myself up in the same tree as the first day and started reading.\n\nThe entries were mostly the same as the first part of the book, but H.M. II had become almost creepily superstitious after his father died. He had the local priests bless the house at least once a year, and one time even traveled to a city (he didn't say which one) to pull in a Catholic to preform a blessing from that church. He seemed to view it with an air of secrecy and desperation; I guess it was back when Catholics and Protestants REALLY hated each other.\n\nThe last entry seemed no different from the others in style, only in content. The handwriting was the same, but the words impacted me like a rubber mallet to the sternum. My ancestor, all those years distant, was dying.\n\n\"I was elf shot today. Henry brought me in when he and his Mary paid a visit. He ran for the priest for last rites. I fear he will not make it in time.\n\n\"I can not open my left eye. I can not talk. Henry's Mary keeps tipping me forward to keep me from drowning in my spit. The elf shot brought a blessing. I can hear Old Scratch. I know more than my father told me before he died.\n\n\"Julie, burn the house and sell the land. Spend not a single night of sleep between those walls.\"\n\nI dropped the book.", "\"Here we are pal. That's twenty bucks.\" \nI peered through the smeary windows of the cab, not quite believing what I saw.\n\"Is this the correct-\"\n\"4241 Braden Ave. C'mon, I gotta go.\"\nI gave the surly man thirty and told him to keep the change. Without another word he left with a squawk of tire spin, leaving me to my dismal errand. \n\nBack in the time of my ancestor's, this area had been affluent, stately, nearly regal, according to the county records. But those days had long since passed by the time I received a telegram from a certain Michael Collins, attorney at law and executor of this \"estate.\" \n\nThe message was brief. To wit:\nProceed to family estate at 4241 Braden Ave. to receive your inheritance. \n\nWhat possible inheritance could this be? I thought to myself as I shoved open the back door, its rusted hinges squalling in protest. The air had the musty, old barn smell of a place long-shuttered and abandoned. There wasn't much in the way of clutter...some old galoshes resting in a corner, a dusty, upright piano against one wall, and an ancient easy chair, with its stuffing falling out.\n\nI notice a single bedroom and inside was a bookshelf. On it were several candles, a few empty jars, and a large, black-bound book, a ledger of some sort perhaps.\nImagine my shock to see my name on the first page! To Carsten Alois Balvenie, written in a handsome, flowing script. \n\nUnaware of doing so, I retired to the sprung lounger to read the ancient words.\n\nTo the Baron of Four Fields-on-Tinpenny, Carsten Alois Balvenie, my greetings. For many decades I traveled the world, bartering with spice merchants in the subcontinent, roaming dark groves of evergreen in the Canadian territories, and trekking across the wastes of Antarctica. Pity that the hovel you sit in now is all that's left of our family estate. The little house was the gardener's quarter's. \n\nAfter the fire, I had to leave. But I made sure that this book was left in safekeeping for you. It is a ledger, detailing the long history of Balvenie, Court Merchant to the King. If you have the will, there are lodes of precious stones, metals, and treasures from antiquity...hidden to this day...waiting for you to claim them as your true inheritance. \nGodspeed, Carsten!\n\nStunned, I sat there for a long time, my mind reeling with the possibilities, the dangers, the treasures. I couldn't wait to begin.", "It was more than a little unsettling, if clichéd. A letter addressed to a future self? \"Wow, that really took some thought... My ancestors must have been really smart,\" Peter thought to himself, his eyes rolling. \"Of course it isn't. Cool place though.\" He'd been truly amazed to be in the house, a home to his forefathers, made of simple comforts. The living room was nothing but an armchair, a fireplace, and the book shelf he had found the diary. \n\nHe returned his gaze to the page. It was mouldy round the edges, and the cover was falling apart, but it was otherwise in perfect condition. It had neither been opened, nor edited, in an awfully long time. \"Dear Peter,\" it began. Reading the line a second time made him cringe at the thought of people thinking it could possibly mean him. Of course it meant his ancestor, who must also have been called Peter. Perhaps it was the name of the diary? He mused over it but for a moment before returning to the page.\n\n\"Dear Peter, \n\nIt's been some time since we last spoke. You probably don't remember. You're in an entirely different body now, but I made sure to bind you within the same skin. It's a shame you will have lost everything I wrote into you from before, but be sure to know that the pages of the past you are well hidden. \n\nI can only dream of the pages you will read as time goes on. Lord knows, I shan't be the one to write them for you this time. I will leave that to you, and all that you are. \n\nTake care, and treat yourself well.\"\n\nA bead of cold sweat rolled down Peter's temple. He wiped it off with the sleeve of his jacket, and cursed himself for letting him think the book could be talking about himself. \"It's just the name of the diary,\" he mumbled to himself. He stepped over to the armchair and threw himself back into it. The wood croaked back it's age as he sunk into the worn plush covering the back. \n\nPeter flipped over the book to look at the back. Just a plain, red leather cover. He ran his hand down it, feeling the snakeskin-like roughness over his fingertips. Flicking open the back page, Peter was shocked to find what looked like brand new paper staring him in the face. There was no mould around the edges, it was high grade... It was new. \n\nHe flicked the cover shut, holding the book between his hands and staring off into the cold and empty fireplace. He was sure a fire had not burnt there in many years, but the stone still soaked in all the light from the coal that had once burnt there. \"I wonder how much history is encased in that soot?\", he thought to himself.\n\nHe returned to the first page. \"Odd,\" he chirped to himself. The first page had a number on it, written in an eloquent cursive. \"Who numbers the first page of a book 748?\" Curious, he turned the page, and was greeted by a map. The page number was indeed 749, but this did not concern Peter now. The map was beautifully drawn, but looked like no other map he had ever seen, and was covered with notes. Right angles adorned the page, with specific parts jutting out and linking to other areas. He traced the outline with his finger.\n\nSuddenly, it struck him. This was the house he was in. This wasn't a map, it was a floor plan. Goosebumps ran up his arm. This book was very carefully targetted at this home. The matter of it being addressed to Peter leapt into his mind again, but this time refused to leave. He studied the map more closely. He traced out the living room on the book, and looked around himself to confirm it matched up. He could see the fireplace outlined, and even the book shelf, built into a crevice of the wall. \n\nAnd then, in the centre of the room, was the armchair. A simple outline, but nonetheless out of place. \"This was a floor plan, why would furniture be included?\" Peter squinted at the scribbles adorning the drawing. The shelf was clearly labelled \"Books,\" whilst the fireplace adorned with \"The heart of the home.\" Peter glanced at the fire again, this time noticing the dull scratches around the mantle, obviously caused from years of use. \n\n\"Peter.\" He tensed. Did he read that right? \"Peter.\" It definitely had his name scrawled down next to the arm chair. Or was it the diary's name? He wasn't sure. He glanced at the fire place again. The thought of all that happened in this house again, in this room, popped into his head. A wind rushed over the house, dislodging some of the coal dust from the floor of the fireplace onto the floor. His gaze turned to the book again. \n\nHe froze. The page had blackened. Specifically, the centre of the living room had. His heart raced. He quickly flicked to the next page of the book. It was bare, spare one line. \"Find the other pages, Peter.\"\n\nHe flicked through the rest of the book, his mind racing. Talks of education, schooling, first love, work, activities, enjoyment, his memories. He jumped from the chair, slamming the book shut. He felt like he should run, from this book that knew so much about him. He took one step towards the door, and stopped. He looked at the fire place again.\n\nHis heart now slowed. He felt calmer. Peter turned and placed the book on the seat of the arm chair, before turning back to face the fireplace. He could almost feel the warmth it once gave, though it was marred by the cocktail of fear and awe rushing through his veins. As he stepped closer to the mantle, he noticed the wind had cleared the floor of the fireplace. His hand raised to the mantle, brushing alongt the roughened stone. He pulled back, looking at the black soot that covered his hand, and then back to the now cleared mantle. \"The heart of the home,\" it read. He turned his gaze down to the now clearer floor of the fireplace. He rushed to brush the remaining coal dust from the stone slab forming the floor of the fireplace with his hand. \n\n\"May this coal keep secret the memories it has formed.\" \n\nPeter wrapped his fingers round the edge of the slab, and began to lift.", "The rest of the cabin seemed to fade away into fog after I read my name in that book. I completely forgot my sister, waiting in the car at the end of the way, nothing else mattered. For James, it read, and I wasn't naïve enough to think that it was for me, but it was still like a punch in the gut. \n\n\nThat miserable little hut was all empty apart from the book on the table and a chair before the empty grate where dying leaves danced in the draught of the open door. My bolt cutters lay where I had dropped them: on a pile of sticks which had perhaps once been a small table, even a stool. The chain that held the door shut was as rusted as my father's memory when he told me about this place. He was a James, too. It was a family name. \n\n\nThe chain had been put on after a girl had died here. My father's liver-spotted hands had trembled as he spoke of her, but looking at the worn floor: part trod-earth, part rotting wood, I could see no tell-tale signs of the sadness that had dogged my family from the Midwest all the way out here. \n\n\nI flicked the book open again, ignoring the wind through the roof as it tried to pluck the leaves from their binding. I smoothed them down and sat in the chair beside the fire. It creaked ominously. I shifted my weight and opened the book. It was written in a woman's crabbed hand, both along and down the page so as to save paper. It took my eyes some getting used to, but I was hungry for information. \n\n\nWe have arrived. The Howling has stopped, but winter will be on us in five days and James has not yet managed to find food in this miserable forest. The children are hungry, the youngest cries almost constantly. I give her my thumb to suck. I cannot produce milk without food. She sucks it and cries when there is no milk. When the snow comes it shall be the seven of us in these two rooms. \n\n\nWe have a bag of acorns and six hares. James has promised me a pheasant, but as I put the youngest to sleep last night I saw the first white flakes of snow settling on the ground. Others are saying that it will snow, and snow hard for five days.\n\n\nJames has grown surly. I and the girls had acorn paste for two meals today. We saved the meat for James and the boys. He sits at the door of this horrible hut and watches the snow fall. I wonder if he is thinking about her. Her ghost has driven us across country and still he cannot be rid of her. The Howling in him will start again soon. \n\n\nThe youngest will not stop crying. She is too big to suck, but there is no food to give her. The boys watch her with wary eyes. A vein throbs in my husband's neck. His eyes are so grey: like two hard chips of ice with no respite, no remorse. I wonder if it is true, whether he did kill her. \n\n\nA wife will always stand by her husband. \n\n\n\nThe Howling has begun again in force. My husband is lost to me behind a wall of ice. The snow has stopped. My daughter's crying has stopped. We have meat again for the first time in weeks. \n\n\nIt is always the women who suffer. Whether it is at the hands of their husbands, brothers or fathers. My youngest is lost to me... She has gone to stop the Howling. \n\n\nI felt revulsion stir in the pit of my stomach, and was roused from the book as the door opened yet again. \n\n\n\"James?\" I turned to see my sister at the entrance of the miserable little hut. She was my mirror: the same grey eyes we had got from our father, but of a smaller height. \"What's taking so long? Surely there's nothing here? Gosh--you look strange! Have you got something in your eyes?\" \n\n\nI could no longer hear her. The wind, whipping through the roof and howling through my ears, had suffused her speech. I walked towards her, hands extended. She did not show fear until the very last moment, when they clasped around her neck and I squeezed. \n\n\n\"James!\" She choked. Her hands scrabbled ineffectively at mine as my thumbs tightened against her pulse point. \n\n\n\nIt is always the women who suffer.\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 2, 3, 3, 3, 5, 17, 45 ]	[ "1452438076", "1452476175", "1452459339", "1452440230", "1452458267", "1452483154", "1452444823", "1452439803", "1452435237" ]
	[WP] I never regretted anything as much as that night	13	[ "That Night\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night I threw my life down the drain and went past the point of no return, disregarding all the consequences. I’ve lived for a very long time and done some very bad things, but I have never regretted anything as much as that night. I remember it clearly, a dreary winter night with howling winds screaming at me. They were screaming at me to stop; they were telling me that I would never regret anything as much as that night. And they were right.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night I sold out the people I’d stood by for years, thinking that I was doing the morally right thing. I gave up everything for the truth, believing that I was doing the world a favor. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I learned that the truth hurts. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I told the world how I was the reason for everything that was wrong with it.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I told myself that the truth would make everything better for everyone. The sorrow caused by my mistake impacted everyone; it changed every life. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I came out with a truth that damaged innumerable people, and ran away to hide from all the anger directed at me. I never, ever regretted anything as much as that night when I abandoned my friends and let them die.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I jumped into the eternal void and made a mistake that led to me giving up all hope. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I messed up. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I came out and came clean. I never regretted anything as much as that night that ruined everything for everyone; that night when I let unimaginable evil into the world.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I let my wants get the better of the world’s needs, and I did what was right for me while pretending that it was the best for everyone. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I decided to take a stand against lies, but unwittingly dragged the whole world into my own personal battle. I’ve never regretted anything as much as that night when I put myself above others.\n\nI never regretted anything as much as that night. I never regretted anything as much as that night, when I let the benevolence inside me take control without understanding it was tainted. I never regretted anything as much as the knowledge that night gave me about what a terrible person was. I hid from the danger, watching the outcome of my actions harm countless others who had done nothing to deserve it. I never regretted anything as much as that night when I made that mistake that resulted in that consequence. I never regretted anything as much as that night – until I died.\n\nBut when I died, I never appreciated anything as much as that night. I never appreciated how, looking back, it changed me as a person. Until I died, I never appreciated how that night brought me at peace with myself after years of despising who I was. I had never appreciated how that night taught me that my mistakes had consequences, and that the truth hurts. And when I died, I regretted something more than that night. I regretted not appreciating that night and using it to change further. I have never regretted anything as much as that night, and I will never appreciate anything as much as it either.\n", "My story is a long story, spanning more than a few generations. I've outlived everyone I met as a child, everyone I grew up with, everyone I had to leave because I couldn't grow old with them. \n\nThe memories haunt me, here in my eight-by-eight, where I'm forced to relive them daily. But none of them hurts so bad it stings my eyes, except the one raw and gaping wound that is slowly driving me mad. My only regret is that it was all my fault. \n\nShe knew who I was, yet she accepted me with all the love in her big heart. Her smile could melt away any man's anger. We fell in love. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who had been running all my life. \n\n\"Let's get married,\" said she, who had all the luck in the world and had never been caught. \n\nSo we married, a tiny little ceremony with her all alone and me with the two friends I had at the time. She was crazy, but not in the sort of way that you want to stay away from. She took risks: rock climbing, base jumping, an adrenaline junky. I noticed some overly observant people arrived in our the town. I always noticed things like that. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who had been running all my life. \n\n\"Let's have a baby,\" said she, who knew her luck would make her pregnancy easy and almost unnoticeable. \n\nSo we settled down in the city, hiding in plain sight as it were. She was always pushing me to be a better man, so I got a job as a day laborer. Nothing that could require a birth certificate. Not one of those, I didn't have one, or if I did, I didn't possess it, and I didn't want to go drawing attention that I was looking for it. \n\nI was getting anxious. I felt like I hadn't run in ages and they were catching up. I must've been seeing the agents daily now, and I had to keep a low profile since they knew what I looked like. I hadn't changed much in the last fifty years. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who had never stayed in the same place long enough to call it a home. \n\n\"Let's have the baby here,\" said she, and I could no nothing but agree with her beautiful pleading eyes that had never seen real danger. \n\nSo we did, a handsome baby boy. We named him Brian. He was a handsome devil, although I worried about what my genes would do to him. But he never sickened, hardly cried and slept most every night. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, who knew the agents had spotted me and that they were learning all they could so that I had nowhere to disappear to. \n\n\"Let's wait until summer when Brian's daycare season ends,\" said she, oblivious to all the warning signs going off in my head. Who was I to argue? She said her luck would hold. It had never failed her before. \n\nI started packing our things anyways. We agreed to leave Saturday, so she could get her last paycheck and say goodbye to her coworkers. I wanted to leave right away. They were so close. The hairs on my neck stood on end. I felt like I was constantly watched. \n\nAnd then it was Friday night. That night. The one that was all my fault. I couldn't argue when all my words melted away as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. I couldn't make myself deny her pleading eyes that loved where she grew up. I only wanted to kiss her beautiful lips when she spoke her gentle words that had the force to move my world. \n\nI knew they were only letting me experience these wonderful memories to make the nightmare so much worse. I didn't soften the blow. I never regretted anything as much as that night. She had gone out to buy diapers and a small box of pre-made cupcakes to take on the road for my birthday. I told her I had experienced too many birthdays, and there was no need, but she wouldn't hear any of it. She tucked her hair behind her ear, the discreet signal that the argument was over. I couldn't deny her gesture, she was only thinking of me, like she always did. \n\n\n\"Let's run,\" she said as she slid on her jogging pants, the pink ones. \n\n\"Let's pack,\" said I, wanting to leave first thing in the morning. Tonight if possible.\n\nShe plugged in her headphones and grabbed her jogging stroller, and I gave her a peck on the cheek as she ran out the door with Brian. I sauntered over to my suitcase and hummed lightly to myself. We were finally leaving the agents behind, and with the existing home-school programs, we wouldn't have to worry about raising Brian on the run. Everything was going to be okay. \n\nThe sun filtered down between the skyrise buildings and I finished packing Brian and her items. We would have to leave all of our knick-knacks and furniture, but that was alright too. \n\nIt wasn't dark at all, just the remnants of a bright and sunny afternoon fading into twilight. I peered out the window and I saw her pushing the stroller in her jogging pants, neon pink like a glowing target. \n\nSuddenly my wonderful dream came to a jolting end and my reverie was thrust forward in time where I was clutching my lovely wife in my arms as blood poured from her mouth and wounds. I didn't even know the human body contained so much. She gazed at me with her eyes, fading away, turning lifeless. The stroller was just over my shoulder, safe as could be, no harm done to it. \n\nIt was all my fault. Why hadn't I gone and gotten the diapers myself? Why hadn't I been more forceful about leaving sooner? Why did I feel the need to let her get me the goddamn cupcakes?\n\nThe EMTs arrived quickly, almost as quickly as it had taken me to run down the apartment stairs with my unmatched speed. I should have noticed, I should have known that their eyes held no empathy, that they did no treatment of her on the spot, just asked me to place her on the gurney, since I was holding her. They asked me to stop screaming. I didn't even know I was. \n\nI watched them load her in. I should have known. I asked the driver what hospital they were taking her to. \n\n\"St. Josiah's,\" he said with a slight grin as the doors closed. I turned away as it pulled from the curb to grab Brian from his stroller. I knew we wouldn't be leaving tonight. \n\nIt was all my fault. Those years of good luck had softened me. She had softened me with her carefree ways and her unconditional love. The stroller was empty. Brian was gone. \n\nI didn't realize yet. \n\n\"Where is St. Josiah's?\" I asked, thinking they had taken Brian as well, just to check him. \n\n\"Where?\" Said the three people I asked. I asked more and more, but no-one had heard of it. Finally I got ahold of a tele-guide and tried to look it up, since I didn't have my own palm-held. \n\nNo St. Josiah's. Anywhere.\n\nAnd then it clicked. \n\nThey caused it. They killed her, and they had Brian, the firstborn of the first Synth created. The only Synth that could reproduce. The prototype as it were. And it was all my fault. I lured them here. \n\nI sunk to the ground, my blood soaked shirt clinging to my skin. My pants tore on the rough pavement, and I could feel small pebbles digging into my knees. Somehow it was raining, thorough the cloudless sunset sky. My pants were getting wet drops all over them. I let out a racking sob, and realized it was my tears. \n\nMy pain threatened to stop my breathing. I couldn't breathe through it, I couldn't think. Everything ran together in-between my heaving, gasping sobs. A small thought pulled into my brain, although it had ceased thinking. \n\n\"Let's run,\" it said, and I pulled myself together. \n\n\"Let's run,\" it promised, and I had no fight left in me.\n\n\"Let's run,\" it said, as I thought of her. \n\n\"Let's run,\" said I, gritting my teeth against my grief, tears still streaming down my reddened coward's face that had been running for over a century.\n\nMy reverie ended and I awoke with gasping, painful sobs. It was still a fresh wound, and it would never heal. It was all my fault, my biggest regret that I could never say \"no.\"\n\n\"Thank you Daphne,\" said the voice of the man that I unwittingly led to my wife. \"You are dismissed,\" he said with barely any interest. \n\nHe looked at me with eyes like a predator evaluating something to eat. Hungry eyes that hadn't used me up and spit me out yet. I was still racked in painful sobs as my body fought the emotions and the sedatives. \n\n\"Why did grandpa always like you best? Out of all his creations you were the most troublesome, but why?\" His hand pulled his glasses down over the bridge of his very average nose. \n\nAs suddenly as he asked that question, the sedatives kicked back in, and I was brought back to my world of misery, all my regrets and dark skeletons in the closet. I could never escape my own demons. But at this point, time didn't matter. They killed my wife, and eventually I would get escape my physical eight-by-eight and find what they did to my son. " ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1452450794", "1452457969" ]
	[WP] In his last few years of adventuring, Indiana Jones decides to take on a couple of apprentices to continue his work. He finds a boy and a girl who seem perfect; Nathan Drake and Lara Croft.	49	[ "Thinking back maybe they weren't the optimal choices, but they turned out great. People called Nathan a two bit thief when really he was one of the most compassionate people I have ever met, the kind to let the treasure fall into the abyss to save his enemy. I like that about him. Laura showed potential but in a different way, she had amazing survival instincts and picked up new things fast. Always thinking on her feet she excelled, but in more boring trivial times she would become lax and often lead others to her destination by accident. I trained them, or rather tried to, thinking that together they would be an amazing pair and could lead our world to new heights. Unfortunately they went their seep rate ways, he didn't like her for being born into money and she hated him for always putting people first over the objective. They had similar methodology of avoiding fights and death, but it always caught up with them, just like it did with me. I wish they could have looked deeper into each other, or maybe I didn't and they did. Maybe they saw something in each other that I never saw. For now I wish them luck as they continue to recover artifacts scattered across the earth, and Godspeed to avoid those who will inevitably catch up to me.", "\"Three waters,\" said Indy in reply to our waitress's question.\n\nI couldn't help but notice that Indy seemed preoccupied with something. It was almost like he had received horrible news and he didn't have anyone to tell. I looked at Lara, man.. she's beautiful, I thought. Nothing I wouldn't give.\n\n\"Need something, sir Nathaniel Drake?\" She snapped me out of my daydream with her typical sass. I glanced over to Indy and then back to her. She looked over, got the hint, and asked him if something was wrong.\n\n\"I think my life is slowly starting to get the best of me,\" he replied.\n\nCurious, I asked what he meant.\n\n\"There comes a time in a man's life where he has to consider his days numbered. My adventuring days are almost done.\"\n\nI told him that can't be so, and asked if he needed someone to try to get him back into it.\n\n\"I brought the two of you here today for a sp-\"\n\n\"Three waters.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"My pleasure, can I get you all some food?\"\n\n\"That won't be necessary, thank you.\"\n\nIndy turned back to us. \"As I was saying, I called you here for a special reason. My adventuring days are seemingly done. But, the two of you have a lot of adventuring left to do in your lives. I want you two to carry on my legacy and explore things that I wanted to explore, but just ran out of time before I got the opportunity.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Lara interjected, \"you want Drake and I to explore things on some list of yours? And just who all knows about these places you want us to go?\"\n\nI was sweating bullets at the thought of exploring the world with Lara. She's so beautiful, I thought again.\n\nIndy looked her dead in the eyes and said, \"the only people who knew about these places are long dead. Now, it's just me.\"\n\n\"I'm up for it, are you, Drake?\" Lara inquired.\n\n\"Y-y-yeah, totally,\" I managed to mutter. I couldn't tell whether I was more nervous or excited.\n\n\"Well, Indy,\" Lara said, \"let's see what you've got for us.\"\n\n\n\nWill continue if so desired" ]	[ 3, 5 ]	[ "1452571604", "1452613102" ]
Even in history, this is still very apparent. Slavers believed that slavery was morally correct, and even Hitler thought he was the hero of his own story. We know now that they were VERY wrong even back then, but it does bring up the idea that "the right thing" can end up being subjective.	[WP] Even villains believe that they're doing the right thing.	3	[ "Shelly stroked her sons head as he finally fell asleep. Sure he was eight years old, and kids could be cruel. \n\nBut she wouldn't give up.\n\nShe would lie and tare apart every truth to make sure that he believed that Santa was real.", "My only crime is doing the right thing.\n\nI could have done nothing. I could have been complacent, as I had always been and was expected to always be. If I had just kept my head down, kept following orders, I would have been called a hero. But I had to do the right thing, even if it was through force.\n\nI would have talked if I could have. But the king doesn't listen to anyone. His word is absolute, and daring to suggest that he could be wrong is treason. And so I stormed the throne room, spear in hand, to depose the king.\n\nIt didn't work, of course. I couldn't even scratch him, and was quickly subdued. I was surprised when he didn't kill me, but then again, he would never pass up a chance to make himself look good. I suppose the \"merciful\" punishment of banishment instead of execution would make him feel good about himself for a few days.\n\nThe banishment didn't change my determination. I tried to rally the serfs, to make them see how they were being exploited by the king. I actually got through to one, but the king has eyes everywhere, and when he found out, he banished the serfs as well.\n\nThe worst part is that the serfs blamed me for their suffering Not the king, the one who enslaved them, manipulated them, banished them, and made them sick. It was my fault for trying to free them. As they cursed my name and praised his, something inside me snapped.\n\nI'm done with trying to help them. They can go down with king. And make no mistake, that tyrant will fall. On my name, Lucifer, I swear it.\n\nDisclaimer: This is fiction, and not meant to represent any actual religious belief or to offend.", "He laid there, bleeding. Imagine that--the boy in blue, the 'saviour of mankind'--bleeding. \n\nI stepped over the crumbled concrete, my feet clinking against broken glass, though through my reinforced power armour I heard nothing but my own breathing. My breaths were growing shallower, closer together, as I neared Superman's immobile form. \n\nHis chest, visible through a torn red S, heaved up and down. Not dead yet. \n\nI felt dizzy, giddy, terrified. I knew they would think me a monster. I had my supporters, but the majority disagreed, saw him as some kind of god. I would be hoisted atop the podium of the reviled and made to stand beside Hitler, Stalin, Red Skull, Bin Laden. My legacy would be...\n\n\"Fuck my legacy,\" I muttered, willing my doubts away to the mental compartment where I had been keeping them for years.\n\nI didn't want their acceptance. Let them rip me apart, I thought. I welcomed their ignorant spite--it would be further proof that only I had the balls to do what must be done.\n\nThey were afraid of him, common people and superheroes alike--a feeling they mistook for awe or gratitude. But I was not afraid. Not afraid of this alien who, at any moment, could simply decide to destroy all of humanity. Who had, several times in the past, gone on genocidal rampages because he couldn't take the effects of a red rock. \n\nNukes may prevent wars from breaking out. May save lives by turning potentially hot wars cold--but we still want them dismantled. They are inhuman things that could reduce us to ash. It is uncontroversial to say that they should simply not exist. Better we tear ourselves apart slowly than let humanity be wiped away in a single flash of light. \n\nAnd rest assured, Superman would have tired of us. He would have finally seen us from his outsider's perspective: as a dangerous, vile species not worth saving. He would have wiped the slate clean. \n\nWould we have deserved it? Perhaps. But it is not for him, or anyone, to say. Let nature take its course.\n\nAnd so I stood above him, finally triumphant, my massive rifle aimed at his head. Green sludge lined his body and mixed with his alien blood. I could see the bits of kryptonite shining through the viscous liquid. He stared at me through narrowed, heavy eyelids. \n\n\"Lex, stop. You can't--\" \n\n\"I'm sorry, Superman,\" I said. \"But we simply don't deserve you.\" \n\nThe shot rang out, and Superman, at last, was dead. " ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1452639084", "1452639838", "1452644053" ]
	[WP] You gather the dragons balls ands summon the eternal dragon. Except there's a catch, instead of shenron you summon Isaac Newton, and for every wish there's an equal and an opposite reaction.	175	[ "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/dbz] [Just saw this in r\\/WritingPrompts and thought it would be appreciated here..](https://np.reddit.com/r/dbz/comments/40tdhd/just_saw_this_in_rwritingprompts_and_thought_it/)\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)", "I placed the last dragon ball in the circle, quickly stepping back as it they began to pulse with light.\n\n\"ETERNAL DRAGON!\" I shouted. \"I SUMMON YOU! RISE AND GRANT MY WISH!\"\n\nInstantly, the scarlet evening sky turned to black, and the ground began to shake. A pilar of light erupted from the dragon balls, culminating into beam that seemed to cut straight into the heavens. The beam began to quiver, forming the shape of a giant, the giant that was to grant my wish.\n\n\"Who summons the great Isaac Newton?\", it bellowed.\n\n\"I did\", I replied somewhat sheepishly, still in awe of its presence.\n\n\"State your wish\", it answered firmly. \"But be warned; for every course of action you take creates a ripple. Do not let your greed be your undoing as it was for many before you.\"\n\nMustering up all the courage I had left, I gathered myself. \n\n\"I WISH FOR ETERNAL LIFE\"\n\n\"Very well\", it answered with a grin emerging on to its face.\n\nIt raised its hands above its head, and clapped them together just under to roof of the sky. With the sound, he vanished. The dark curtain that had come over the sky receded in an instant. The seven dragon balls rose in unison, then jetted off in different directions.\n\nSuddenly, I felt my body become fuller than I had ever thought possible. I could feel energy in almost every cell. I was teeming with life, exuding the power of immortality that I sought after for so long. \n\nBut suddenly, to my horror, the world around me began to change as well. I looked around in disbelief as the trees withered then shriveled, as the grass turned from green to brown to dust. I heard screams in the distance, but only for a moment, then the eerie calm came.\n\nI wished for eternal life in order to conquer the planet. I just assumed I would have had someone or something to conquer once I received it.\n", "The President stepped out into the wide clearing, a plaza surrounded by droves of people. In the center of the city square six glowing orbs hovered in a ring, just above the ground, with a gap for a seventh. Heavily armed guards and large concrete barriers kept the crowd at bay. News cameras from a dozen different countries focused in on the American leader. He stepped up onto a podium. \"As you all well know, the responsibility of this this summoning has been thrust upon me.\" The mob grew silent, listening intently to the President's words. \"The American people have voted on this decision. Although the power being used today was surely designed for all of mankind, this decision has never been democratic before. I hope that no person in the world will grieve for their lack of input. Hopefully, as a result of today, the next wish can be granted with equal opportunity for all citizens of the earth to partake.\"\n\nA security officer pushed a cart into the clearing with a black box atop it. The president stepped down from the platform, produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the box, revealing its contents to the world. Within sat the last key for the summoning; the one-star dragon ball. The President took it in his hands and raised it into the air, placing it in its spot within the ring. It hovered there as he released it and began to glow brilliantly. The ring began to spin, faster and faster, until the seven balls ceased to be distinguishable, appearing to meld into a single circular band of light. Then, they flew off at incredible speed in all directions, disappearing into the sky. Where they once span stood a man in a black coat with long, wavy blonde hair. He looked around, seeming slightly disappointing. \"Hmh. About time.\"\n\nThe President stepped forward, reaching out to shake his hand. \"Sir Isaac Newton, it is an honor.\"\n\n\"Charmed,\" Isaac replied, pocketing his hands to show his intention of refusing the handshake. \n\nThe President lowered his hand. \"On behalf of the American people, I have come to make a wish.\" The crowd tensed up. Some screamed words of encouragement, while others tried to sabotage the wish with demands of their own. \n\nIsaac ignored them, staring the President square in the eyes. \"Make it then.\"\n\n\"I wish...\" Everything froze, as if time had been stopped. Slightly perturbed, but not one to be turned away from his mission, the President proceeded. \"For world peace.\" \n\n\"Now, I thought this would happen.\" Isaac said, frowning. \"I froze time for you, so this wish doesn't count. Nobody heard it, and I don't have to fulfill it.\"\n\n\"But, why?\" The President's voice was upset and confused; angry, even.\n\n\"There is something you need to know about these wishes. They have this sort of 'monkey paw' element to them; when you wish for something, an equal and opposite negative wish is also fulfilled, quite often making it a worthless request.\" Isaac explained this without emotion, as if he were giving a lecture rather than giving a warning. \"When I wished for unlimited power, I was used to replace the last wish-granter, and became trapped in the magic prison you just summoned me from. When Chamberlain wished for Hitler to be destroyed, it immediately started a five year war. And so on like that.\"\n\nThe President's slowly grew less agitated as Isaac explained himself, becoming pensive and subdued. \"So,\" he said in a meek voice, \"world peace might mean something horrible, like extinction.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"Why didn't we know this before?\"\n\n\"Probably because you weren't paying attention. Or maybe Chamberlain was too embarrassed to admit it. I've only been summoned by him and you, so I can't speak for anybody before me.\"\n\nThe President took a few steps back and sat on the podium, exasperated. \"What should I, or can I, wish for then? Everybody knows what I should be demanding.\"\n\n\"Something mundane, that won't have a big impact if it goes wrong. Move a tea kettle to China, have me paint your house purple... just, nothing big.\"\n\nThe President nodded, and stood up. \"I understand.\" He took a few steps forward and the world continued moving.\n\n\"I wish... for the dragon balls to lose their power.\"\n\nFor a moment, the world was seemingly still again, and a hush fell over the assembled masses. One cameraman dropped his equipment in disbelief. Isaac smiled and nodded, saying \"Your wish is granted,\" before collapsing on the spot, dead. \n", "\"Isaac Newton, I know about how you grant wishes.\"\n\n\nI gave him a grin. I was prepared for this.\n\n\n\"Oh?\" He looked amused. \"Pray tell, what is it that you wish for?\"\n\n\nI had given this a long thought. I took a deep breath and yelled, \"I want every guy in the world to be obsessed with you!\"\n\n\nA silence rang through the canyon as Isaac Newton raised an eyebrow. \n\n\n\"You want what?\"\n\n\nI gave him a sheepish grin. \"I want every guy in the world to be obsessed with you, and the opposite reaction of that-\"\n\nI waved my finger through the air.\n\n\"...is that every girl in the world will be obsessed with me.\"\n\nNewton thought for a moment and seemed to have figured it out.\n\n\n\"So THAT'S how you think it works...\" he chuckled, \"Makes sense.\" \n\n\n\"Damn straight,\" I put my hand on my waist, \"Let's make it happen.\"\n\n\nA flash of light and a voice boomed in my head.\n\n\nDONE\n\n\nI gasped awake as several of my classmates had been staring at me.\n\n\n\"Is there a problem?\" the professor was looking at me, \"Mr. Smith?\"\n\n\nSmith, that's my name. \n\n\"No sir,\" I wiped my head of the sweat, \"I'm doing well... uh Professor....\"\n\n\"Professor Isaac Newton Brown,\" he answered, \"Are you feeling alright?\"\n\nOh, it would make sense it he was named that because....\n\n\n\"Wait, then that means...\" I eyed the room of all the females. Several of them were staring at me.\n\n\n\"If you don't mind,\" Prof. Brown cleared his throat, \"I would like to continue the lesson.\"\n\n\"No, go right on ahead sir,\" I apologized, \"Sorry about that.\"\n\n\nI was jittery in my seat for the rest of class. Afterwards, I began to look for my prey. \n\nNot her... not her... nope...\n\nI found her - Melissa Greene. The hottest girl in the grade. She also played for the volleyball team as a librero.\n\nI walked up to her. \"Hey.\"\n\nA sharp pain hit my face as I fell onto the floor. I lost consciousness for a second as I found myself looking up at her from the ground. \n\n\"Wha-\n\n\"Don't you fucking touch me,\" she gritted her teeth, \"Or I will kill you.\"\n\nShe spat on me as I felt the saliva hit my forehead. She turned away and walked away.\n\n\nWhat the fuck?\n\n\nI turned to another nearby girl. She didn't look familiar as I asked, \"Hey, what was her problem?\"\n\n\n\"Fuck you!\" She kicked me in the stomach as I felt the air escape from me.\n\n\nIt was then the sudden realization hit me.\n\n\nI want every guy in the world to be obsessed with you, Isaac Newton.\n\n\"Oh, you have to got to be shitting m-\n\nThat didn't mean that every girl would be obsessed with me.\n\nThat meant that every girl would fucking hate my guts.\n\nAn apparition of Newton appeared in front of me in his colonial outfit as he shrugged. \"You could have literally just asked to have relationships with every girl you wanted to. That way, you could avoid relationships with any guy you didn't want.\"\n\nThe apparition disappeared as I found myself with a small crown forming around me. I had no doubts that the majority of the gentlemen had Isaac as their first name.\n\n\"Shit.\" I muttered as I turned to look at the girls around me, who seemed to glare with murder in their eyes.\n\n______________________________________________________________________________________\n\nI wanted to make it a little fun and still abide by the Dragon Ball rules (the one wish part). It's a terribly short and unplanned story so hope you enjoy it.\n", "\"Rise, Eternal Dragon, and hear the wish of he who summons you!\"\n\nWaves of countless pinpricks of white light begin to dance away from the gathered Dragonballs. From the horizon, dark clouds roll in, blanketing the clear night sky and blotting out even the light of the moon. You feel the hair on the back of your neck rising. You glance about uneasily.\n\nA bolt of lightning from the heavens rends the darkened sky. You scream as it strikes the Dragonballs, rebounding off them into a pillar of golden light, a rippling conduit between the heavens and the earth. The light narrows to an undulating, almost snakelike form.\n\nThe pillar of light narrows further, allowing you to perceive the limbs of none other than Sir Isaac Newton, crested with lightning. There his arm, there his scale-tipped back, and there his black shoes with silver buckles, appear from the burst of magic. He grows outward from the narrow pillar, wider and wider. His face also emerges from the blur, clean-shaven chin raised haughtily to the heavens and and blood-red eyes glowing. His mouth opens, revealing rows of pointed teeth surely bigger than your arm, and from the throat that once uttered the words \"If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants,\" comes a long, guttural moan.\n\nYou cannot disguise your quaking now as you gaze, openmouthed and trembling, at the specter of the highly influential physicist, astronomer, mathematician, philosopher, alchemist and theologian. Sir Isaac Newton growls once more at the jet-black sky, \"Gurrrrrrr...\" as you begin to wonder whether your wish will be granted. You begin to wonder whether you will even survive, or if your sky-high dreams will, like the apocryphal apple, plummet to earth in a demonstration of the inevitability of gravity...and hubris.\n\nJoin us next time, on Dragonball N: Featuring Sir Isaac Newton as the Eternal Dragon." ]	[ 1, 9, 20, 23, 49 ]	[ "1452668726", "1452662959", "1452657561", "1452650128", "1452654804" ]
	[WP] As it turns out, Death has no idea how to play chess.	241	[ "Wickrem's last words on the mortal plane were \"Well dicks.\"\nThen the explosion consumed the entire building. There were no survivors.\n\nFor a moment, Wick found himself exactly where he had left himself, excepting that most of him had been splattered about, burnt to ash, or otherwise turned to pieces. He was aware that he was now just a spirit standing above his own remains, and the idea seemed a bit unsavory to him.\n\nThe night sky held many terrors, and from it came Death on wings from on high. Three stories tall, comprised of bone and metal and shrouded in armor scavenged from the noble dead, with an illusory mask of screaming faces dripping from it's exposed skull, it towered over Wick. It's giant metal wings, suspended above the thing and held fast to it's body by ancient divine magic came down to rest on it's back.\n\nWhen it spoke, a dirge could be heard, and it's thrumming voice silenced all else.\n\"SO. WICKREM FAS ORION. FINALLY YOU HAVE COME TO ME, WITH MORE IN TOW, HAVING INVITED SO MANY INTO MY GRIP ALREADY. GREETINGS.\"\n\nWick looked up at it. At this point he figured there was nothing left to lose, so he couldn't seem to muster up any fear of the thing. He put his hands on his hips.\n\"It was my pleasure, believe me. And you must be Death then. Charmed.\"\n\nThe hulking mass leaned in, and a dozen bone and machine hands pressed from within it onto the ground to support the weight.\n\"REALLY I HAVE BECOME A FAN OF YOUR WORK. ONE HUNDRED YEARS AND NOT A SINGLE WAR ANYWHERE. I WAS BECOMING SO BORED UNTIL YOU CAME ALONG. EVEN NOW I AM SPEAKING WITH THE OTHER CASUALTIES AT THIS SITE. EVERY ONE CURSES YOUR NAME. MANY OF HISTORY'S FAMOUS GENERALS HAVE TAKEN LESS LIVES AND EARNED FEWER DAMNATIONS.\"\n\nThe monster looked up at the sky, then back at Wick. It brought it's face close to his, and Wick looked for an unsettling moment into it's eyes, one the vacant hole of a skull, the other a shifting shimmering magical image of terror of half a face draped haphazardly.\n\"I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THE DELAY IN ESCORTING YOU TO SERVE YOUR CHOSEN GOD ON THE HEAVENLY BATTLEFIELD. I WANTED TO SPEAK WITH YOU ON SOME OF YOUR MOST HILARIOUS KILLS.\"\n\nWick looked away from the chilling face up at the sky and observed the orange and blue nebulous cloud covering most of the darkness.\n\"Yeah, that's cool for sure, since I have no intention of serving any of those asshats anything but their own stunningly attired asses. I don't do much in the way of serving, you understand. It's not really my thing.\"\n\n\"REALLY. I SUPPOSE I COULD JUST SHUNT YOU OUT SOMEWHERE UP THERE AND YOU CAN JUST DESTROY ANYTHING YOU SEE. YOU'LL PROBABLY DO WELL.\"\n\nWick sensed an opportunity.\n\"You could just put me back together down here again. I'll keep killing people for you. You know I will.\" he smiled.\n\n\"YOU WOULD BE SURPRISED HOW LITTLE SOMEONE ASKS THAT OF ME. MOST PEOPLE ARE PRETTY ENTHUSED ABOUT THE AFTERLIFE SCENE ONCE THEY GET HERE. MORE'S THE PITY. THE PROBLEM IS OF COURSE THAT THE GODS HATE IT IF I DO THAT. I GET TO PICK WHOMEVER I WANT IN MY OWN ARMY, BUT BELIEVE ME THAT IS NOT A FATE YOU WANT, AND IT IS NOT AN EQUIVALENT OF WHAT YOU ASK.\"\n\n\"Oh yeah? Death is afraid of a bunch of nancy gods? You realize you're talking to the guy who just blew up the Vatican. And speaking of which, where is old Dem anyway? Doesn't he want to come deliver divine punishment and whatnot? I'm struck awed by the power.\"\n\n\"THE DEM OUT HERE LIKELY DOES NOT EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU DID. IT HAS PROBLEMS OF IT'S OWN. BUT YOU ARE CORRECT, IT COULD NOT KILL ME IN ANY CASE.\" Wick had to wrap his head around that answer for a second but pretty quickly moved on to the important point.\n\n\"So hey what does it have to take to convince you to let me do your bidding. I promise I'll send anyone you want back this way. I was just getting started sending people to meet their masters, believe me.\"\n\n\"HUMANS ARE UNRELIABLE. YOUR LUCK WAS IMPRESSIVE AND I HAVE ENJOYED WATCHING YOU KILL WITHOUT RELENT, BUT THAT LUCK HAS RUN OUT, AND TIME HAS BROUGHT YOU HERE TO ME. CHOOSE YOUR AFTERFATE.\"\n\n\"Out of luck, hey? I flipping think not. It wasn't my body that was lucky, friend, and besides there was more than a hint of mad skills down there.\"\n\n\"ANYTHING YOU COULD ACCOMPLISH I COULD AS WELL. YOU CAN SERVE ME IN NO WAY BEYOND MY AMUSEMENT.\"\n\n\"Come now that kind of hubris is unbecoming. I bet there's some things I can do that you can't. And I bet I'm better than you let on. In fact, you want to gamble on it?\"\n\nDeath reared back up to it's full dizzying height and gazed out into the sky above.\n\"INTERESTING. YOU HAVE COME FAR AND DONE MUCH, I CAN RESPECT HOW THIS WOULD SEEM AS JUST ANOTHER CHALLENGE TO YOU. EXCEPT YOU CANNOT HOPE TO BEAT DEATH ITSELF. I ALONE AMONGST ALL HOLD SWAY OVER ALL OTHER DOMAINS. WHILE EACH GOD IS MASTER OF ONE DOMAIN THAT DOMAIN IS TOO IT'S MASTER, AND YET I MOVE ACROSS ALL BATTLEFIELDS UNMASTERED, UNCONTESTED.\"\n\n\"Yeah true wow. Ok well how are you at playing a fiddle? Or like Euchre? No wait let's say Blackjack. Or Poker? Shit, how are you at Chess, Death?\"\n\nA moment passed.\n\n\"...WHAT THE FLIP IS CHESS.\"\n\n...\n\nWick awoke in the burning ruins, completely fine and in good health. He smiled, got up, dusted off, and strolled out of the smoke. People gasped and some started cursing his name and crying for his death. Wick reflected for a moment that this could all go pretty badly for him if anyone ever taught Death the actual rules of chess. Then he started shooting.", "#The First Game#\n\nDeath looked at the black and white chessboard and felt a glaze come over his eyes as his mind turned to a muddled puddle of anxiety. These new restrictions were going to put him out of business, and for the simple fact that he was too good at his job. \n\n\nIt really didn't have anything to do with him. Between global warming, Ebola, and that nuclear war between Pakistan and India, he'd been raking in souls like a fat kid at a jelly bean eating contest. Humans were just too fragile, and if they were gonna offer themselves up on a silver platter, why should he say no?\n\n\nBut, apparently, not everyone felt that way; the Boss upstairs had been quite clear. \"At this rate, the species will be extinct within the next century. It's time to change things up a little.\" \n\n\nIf He'd only said riddles, or Luchador wrestling, Death might have stood a chance. But chess... It was his own fault really. Millennia of existence and he'd never once attempted to learn chess. Set? Sure. Majong? You bet! But chess? After seeing the sprawling battles that had inspired the trivial past time, the strategic genius that it strove to imitate...well, frankly, he found it boderline offensive. And now he was forced to sit and play with every. Single. Soul that came up for grabs. He cricked his neck, and set his pale hand to a pawn. It didn't matter. He was death. He always won, in the end. Most of the time, anyway. He would learn this, just like he learned to catch souls reduced to microscopic particles in the wake of a nuclear warhead. Then again, he thought, moving the pawn with a slight frown, he still wasn't completely sure he'd got all of those. He probably had. And he definitely would going forward. The India-Pakistan incident had given him plenty of practice.\n\n\nHis opponent moved a pawn forward in response, one of the middle ones. Death allowed a small smile to creep up his lips. His opponents infantryman was a now at the mercy of his cavalry. They could strike swiftly, before any support could be brought up. He'd seen something similar happen near Acre in the 12th century. He was more than a little surprised. He knew this man had gone to the park near his home nearly everyday for twenty years. He would have expected him to be more adept in the basics of infantry based warfare. Still, he was elderly; perhaps it was his age catching up with him. Death gripped his left knight in a fist, and swing it at the pawn. It sailed across the ethreal room they sat in and bounced off the opaque wall.\n\n \n\nThe elderly man cut his eyes between the pawn and a triumphant death. \"What're you doing?\" \n\n\n\"Winning.\" Death replied smugly. \n\n\n\"Do you play chess differently after you die?\" \n\n\nDeath paused. \"Yes.\" \n\n\nThe old man crossed his arms over his chest. \"What're the rules?\" \n\n\nDeath paused again. \"Chess is the same.\"\n\n\n\"You don't know how to play?\"\n\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\nThe old man sat in that position, and studdied the board. \"Would you like me to teach you?\" He asked after awhile.\n\n\nDeath blinked. \"Teach me? Really?\"\n\n\nHis opponent nodded. \"Everyone should know how to play chess. Good for the mind, keeps it sharp, critical, two steps ahead...and it's fun.\"\n\n\nDeath shook his head, and sighed. \"Alright. Not like I have much of a choice.\"\n\n\nAnd so they played. A little at a time, starting with the basics. This piece moved like this, this one like that. Then the man showed him some strategies. Just simple ones, ones that tried to get to the king as quickly as possible. The man even showed Death some of his secrets, twists to even these simplistic gambits. He was a good teacher, stern, but he always told you exactly how you needed to improve. Death was so engrossed in the game's intricacies, that he was surprised when he realized that he was actually enjoying himself. The game was complex, challenging, something any immortal being finds irresistible. And the company was good too, something hard to find this side of life.\n\n\n\"And it's alright to lose this piece?\"\n\n\nThe man nodded. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n\"Sometimes you have to lose to progress.\" Death repeated now engrained mantra. \n\n\nThe old man smiled. \"Right. And now, see, this guy here...\" He took Death's hand and laid it on a knight. Gently, he guided it across the board into his king. \"He can checkmate.\" Death laughed, and rubbed his hands together. \"I got it! I got it. That might be my favorite one yet. Simple, but effective, especially against someone stupid.\" He looked up from the board. The man was pale, now the same tone as death. Death's smile faltered. \"Wha-...oh...\" The man gave a weak smile. \"Well, that wasn't a completely unpleasant way to spend my time here in purgatory. Thank you.\" \n\n\nDeath shook his head. \"I-I-I didn't mean to-\"\n\n\n\"I did.\" The old man sighed and reclined in his chair. He was started to become even paler. Death thought he could almost see through him now, like on of those strange, deep sea fish. \n\n\n\"Everyone has their time. And I always knew when mine came, I wouldn't beg. I've been blessed with eighty-six Death free years. It's my time now.\"\n\n\nDeath's face sagged. \"I'm...sorry.\" \n\n\n\"Don't be. You turned out to be a nice enough fellow. Remember what I taught you now.\"\n\n\nDeath nodded. And for the first time in centuries, his voice was husky. \"I will.\"\n\n\nThe old man nodded. \"Good. Good. Everyone should know how to play chess. Good for the mind, keeps it sharp, critical, two steps ahead...\"\n\n\nHe faded, like a mist in the morning sunlight. Death sat there, staring at the seat that had been filled moments earlier. Suddenly, the chess board reset itself. The old man's last move was erased. Everything returned to its starting position. A statacco voice spoke from above, filling the space around him. \"Next soul arriving, in, seven, minutes.\" Death just sighed, and moved a pawn forward. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"No, no, no.\" I clucked, annoyed.\n\"It's an L shape, like this.\" I demonstrated by moving the knight two spaces forward, and one to the left -- an empty square.\n\"So what captures diagonally?\"\n\"The pawn.\"\nDeath cocked his head to the side in the universal sign of confusion.\n\"This guy.\" I held up the round-headed pawn and then set it right back where it was on the board.\n\"Right ok.\" Death responded, re-evaluating his move. He sat in silence, cupping his chin in a wiry hand while tapping on his lip with a boney finger.\nHe had abandoned the knight altogether, and instead went with advancing his rook from behind the backline of his formation to get it a little more exposure to my pieces. \nI had patiently planned my next three moves while Death was trying to wrap his head around how some of the pieces captured differently.\nI advanced a pawn, putting him in line with the newly threatening rook, but protected on the flank by the bishop positioned diagonally from him.\n\nDeath immediately rushed his rook forward to the middle of the board, and knocked over my pawn. He palmed it, smiled at me and gently set it on the side of the table next to his coffee.\n\nIn likewise speed, I knocked over his rook with my bishop and set his rook next to the other three captured pieces on my side of the board. Two pawns, one knight. Death himself had all of two pawns.\n\nHe frowned, and sucked some air between his teeth. \"Do over?\" He asked.\n\nI shook my head.\n\n\"Damn. Ok.\" He resigned, slouching back over the board.\n\nI furrowed my brow and reached over to have a sip of coffee. It was still pretty hot, and it didn't taste too acidic. Death was even nice enough to provide some milk and sugar, which sat unused in the no-man's land on the table between us.\n\n\"Hey uh, Death?\" I asked. He grunted back at me, gently fondling his King's crown while trying to come to a decision.\n\"Have you ever played chess?\"\n\nHe accidentally knocked over his king and set him back upright. \"Erm. No, actually.\"\n\n\"I thought that was like a thing though.\" I ventured, taking another sip of coffee. \"I mean, don't people get to challenge you to a game?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah.\" He admitted. \"But mostly you have people too busy crying their eyes out to actually make a challenge. Shoot, if you can't even use your words it's not my fault you get shipped off to Elysium. Or wherever. They change it often.\"\n\nHe advanced a pawn and leaned back in his faded red leather wingback, grabbing his coffee and saucer and taking a drink. Weird to think Death drank coffee like an Englishman drinks tea.\n\"So, what happens when I win then?\"\n\nDeath sighed, watching his pawn get out-manuevered by my bishop. I set the piece aside and looked up at him, idly seeking out my own coffee with a groping hand.\n\n\"Eh, I'll send you back. You'll probably wake up in a hospital bed, if it hasn't been too long that they've sent you home already to live out a coma or somethin.\" He absent-mindedly moved his queen out towards the center of the board, where it got subsequently captured by my knight guarding the front. He shrugged, and took another sip of coffee.\n\n\"So what happens next time?\" I asked.\n\n\"Next time? Shoot. Well, you'll probably challenge me to Chess again knowing you'll probably win, and then I'll send you back.\"\n\nI blinked, \"Isn't that like -- wait you're cool with me just being able to cheat death?\"\n\nHe stiffened and sat up in his chair, \"Woah woah woah.\" He leaned in close and I could see the strangely colored veins in his eyes. \"Cheat?\" He leaned even closer and I felt a physical twisting in my insides.\n\n\"Are you trying to cheat death?\"\n\nI could feel the words slither into my nose and eyes like an icy wind, and I shivered down from my spine.\n\n\"No.\" I whispered, through gritted teeth. \"I a-- I am not cheating.\" I blurted, then sat up straight to look Death in his hollow eyes.\n\n\"Good.\" He snorted and relaxed, moving yet another one of his pieces into a terrible position, only to be taken once more.\n\n\"I mean.\" I ventured again. \"What happens when you come for me, and then I beat you, and then you come for me again, and I beat you?\"\nI took a sharp breath. \"Doesn't that mean I'll get to live forever?\" \n\nDeath's wrinkled mouth broke into a toothy grin, and he begun to chortle before it devolved into full-blown laughter. I sat in silence, wary of the old figure until he had calmed down.\n\n\"What, you want to live to be a hundred and twenty four and keep living?\" He asked.\nI opened my mouth and then paused.\nDeath continued, \"You realize how much of the human body starts falling apart at that age? You won't remember half a damn, you'll be pissing yourself hourly, you'll feel your skeleton moving inside your body. Shoot, it's awful.\"\n\nI slumped back in my chair, chewed my lip and then reached for my coffee and after a long sip, shrugged.\n\"I guess that's fair.\" I admitted.\n\n\"Everyone dies in the end.\" Death agreed, as I finally positioned my pieces to lock in his king and declare a final victory.\n\n\"Even if you're good at chess.\" He smiled toothily, and stood up, holding out his hand. \"Come along now. Time to get back to the waking life.\"\n\nI took it.", "Death drew smiley faces in a small pile of salt as he sat in the corner booth of the cafe sipping on a cinnamon dolce and waiting for his older brother Terry to show up.\n\n\"Wussup bro?\", Terry delivered a solid slap to the back of his brother's head, causing him to knock all the teeth out of his salt portrait.\n\n\"Jesus, Terry... did you seriously sneak through the door just so you could do that? What if I had been eating something and you caused me to choke?\"\n\n\"Good one huh?\" Terry gave an upward headnod and pointed to the waitress across the room, \"I got Cheryl over there to hold the spring on the door so it wouldn't slam.\" Terry tapped the side of his head with his index finger, \"Gotta keep you on your toes little brother.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait - here put some napkins down before you get that stuff all over the place.\" Death pushed the cheap plastic dispenser over toward his brother. Terry was still in his torn jean shorts that were now splattered with lavender and off-white. He had been busy painting his garage when Death asked him to swing by for a bit.\n\n\"Hey, give your big brother a little credit how 'bout it?\" said Terry with his arms stretched wide and his mouth agape, \"It's dry - has been for almost twenty minutes now. Nothin' to worry about.\"\n\nAs he slid across the booth opposite his brother, he left pale blue streaks on the maroon leather cushion.\n\n\"Dammit Terry, look what you did! You know they're gonna blame me for this right?\"\n\n\"Nobody's blaming anybody here, just chill out man...\" Terry tried to console him.\n\n\"What are you talking about? It's always me that gets blamed,\" the caffeine was starting to kick in now, Death's hand began to shake a little as he got more agitated, \"You know the Robinson's just down the street right?\"\n\nTerry nodded as he picked up a menu and flipped to the burgers.\n\n\"Well, last week their dog gets hit by the mail truck, and guess who get's the evil eye now? Not the mailman, no siree, it's gotta be my fault. My whole life is a game of 'shoot the messenger'\".\n\n\"To be fair, bro,\" Terry lifted his eyes off the Barbecue Onionater photo long enough to make quote signs with his fingers, \"you don't just 'deliver messages'. You showed up and ripped the soul out of their Boston terrier.\"\n\n\"He was dying... that's what I do.\" said Death with more sarcasm than necessary, \"It's important work. Work that should be respected.\"\n\n\"Look, as much as I would like to sit here and hear about the struggles and trials of a narcissistic, pseudo-demigod, Patricia will be home at 5:30 and I damn well better have the garage finished - her words, not mine.\"\n\n\"Alright, alright, \" Death reached over to the box that sat next to him in the booth and laid it square on the table in front of him. \"This is the reason I asked you to come over.\"\n\n___\n\n\"You want me to paint that box?\" said Terry.\n\n\"No, you idiot.\" Death opened the latches and spilled the contents out onto the table. \"I need you to teach me how to play this game.\"\n\n\"Whoa, whoa, whoa...\" Terry grinned, \"you mean to tell me that you don't know how to play chess?\"\n\n\"Look if you're gonna make a big deal about it...\"\n\n\"No, I just mean... come on, Death plays chess with everybody. You hear about it all the time.\"\n\n\"No. No he doesn't, I assure you.\" \n\nDeath didn't like the idea of turning to his brother for help, but he wasn't exactly in a position to pick and choose allies at the moment. Besides, Terry had played chess in college and was quite good. Even won a couple of tournaments. \n\n\"Ah, I get it now, \" said Terry as he rubbed his handlebar mustache, \"it's the knight isn't it? The one that's been bangin' your ex?\"\n\n\"He...\" Death began to stammer, \"he didn't 'bang' Regina as you so crudely put it. Alright, maybe this was a bad idea.\" He began to put pieces back into the box.\n\n\"Hold on,\" said Terry, \"I'm sorry alright?\"\n\nDeath stopped putting pieces in the box and looked down at the table.\n\n\"I'll help you out. What's a big brother for?\"\n\nDeath sat still for a moment, then gently nodded his head and said, \"Thanks, Terry.\"\n\n\"But first, let's get some grub.\" With one hand, Terry waved the waitress over to the table and with the other he began setting up the board.\n\n___\n\n(Twenty minutes later...)\n\nTerry was finishing off his cheeseburger as he quizzed Death.\n\n\"So if Sir Asshole castles you , what does that mean?\" \n\n\"Castle... castle...\" Death was whispering to himself as he looked up at the ceiling of the diner, \"Oh, right, Castling is when you do this.\"\n\nDeath proceeded to place his hands on either side of the board and shuffle it from side-to-side.\n\n\"Exactly,\" said Terry, \"But remember, you can only shuffle the pieces for up to 3 seconds, if you go any longer than that you have to pawn something.\"\n\n\"How do I do that again?\" asked Death.\n\n\"See these little dudes?\" Terry put his finger over one of the pawns. \"You've heard of pawns in chess right?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah, sorta. It's the only thing I have heard of.\" Death confessed.\n\n\"Ok, well, it's called a pawn cause that's what you do. You pawn them off for stuff you need.\"\n\n\"Ohhhhh that makes so much sense!\" Death put his hands together and gave a couple of little excited claps.\n\n\"So, you need a Queen? You just pawn your pawn and get a queen.\"\n\n\"And since the queen is really the king in drag, I'll have another Drag Queen, right?\" asked Death.\n\n\"Right you are friendo,\" Terry gave hims a thumbs up, \"then you just drag - hence the name - the queen all over the board knocking all the other pieces around.\"\n\n\"Wow, this game is a lot more physical than I originally thought. Now, once all the pieces - \"\n\n\"Uh uh... \" Terry wagged his finger at his brother scolding him.\n\n\"Oh sorry, \" Death apologize, \"Not pieces - Wigglywams. Once all the Wigglywams are on the floor, I make my index finger and thumb into the shape of a little pistol and 'shoot' my opponent. Is that it?\"\n\n\"You got it. That's called the Fingerbang, and don't forget to say 'pew, pew, pew' three times. Go ahead, try it out.\"\n\nA small child walked by the table and gave a curious look to Death as he pointed his finger into the air and said pew, pew, pew.\n\nTerry looked on with pride at his younger brother.\n\n\"Brother, when you sit down to play this knight , he's never gonna know what hit him.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "People tell you about life flashing before your eyes, near death experiences, a light at the end of the tunnel as you're dying. That's all bullshit. I know because Death told me himself.\n\n\n\"You're not the first one to plea for your life. The soul has but a few threads left to cut.\"\n\n\n\"A game! I'm supposed to be able to challenge you to a game to keep on living.\"\n\n\n\"You're not the first one to do that either. But I accept. Your choice of game, but it will not change your fate.\"\n\n\nAnd so I challenged him to chess. Setting one side of the board with ethereal pieces that kept flickering in and out of my perception. I made the first move. And then Death made his. He took his King and smashed it into mine. A swirling light danced around the board as every piece drained of color. In fact a whole rainbow seemed to be flying into death's palm. His reaper's cloth became all colors at once. My king exploded into fragments.\n\n\"Checkmate.\"\n\n\n\"B-but that's not how it works. That's against the rules!\"\n\n\n\"In the afterlife I'm afraid things work differently. In the time it took to set up the game and for you to make the first move, you were already buried underground, your physical being a meal for worms and rot. Even if you were to somehow win, the life you wished to return to is impossible. I do not know how to play chess, but I do know that as soon as you entered into my realm your destiny was secured. So many pretend to have glimpsed here; this infinite sanctum of formless soul, they fantasize, claim to have 'seen the light' or grasped on to life to come back. Nobody who sees me gets to bargain.\"\n\n\nI slumped. \"Anything I could have done couldn't have changed it? Nothing I say matters at this point does it?\"\n\n\n\"Everything you say matters. It just doesn't concern whatever lump of flesh to which it was once attached. I know you feel some fleeting attachment to that form, but rest assured, your existence is far from over.\" \n\n\nHe handed me a pair of scissors. And pointed to a few strings that I had not previously noticed. One attached to my hands, another to my neck and few where I could not see their ends.\n\n\n\"No one who meets me ever lives in their old bodies, but many do not have the strength to wrestle themselves free. I take nothing. Free yourself from your old life whenever you see fit. There will be many waiting for you when you do.\"\n\nHis rainbow cloak vanished along with the chessboard full of monochrome parts leaving me to my decision. No lights, no games, no stories. Just a binary decision and the tools to carry it out.\n\n\nDeath doesn't know how to play chess. He plays another game in which there is only one move and one choice.", "Contract killer. Assassin. Mercenary. Bounty hunter. \n\nCall it what you will. It's a lonely living extinguishing life. \n\nI hadn’t noticed Death at first, hovering on the fringes. Killing the unnatural was messy work. Their blood coated my hands and clothing, the walls and floor. They struggled more than humans. Clinging to their extended life lines, pouring centuries of rage and determination into the fight. \n\nA sage witch, sentenced to die for cursing virgins, had been the first to point him out. \n\n“He waits for you, too,” she cackled, throwing a handful of herbs and bones at me. \n\nShe didn’t flinch as I fire point blank into her skull. She exploded, a cacophony of maggots and putrid blood. \n\nI gagged. Witches were always so overdramatic in their moment of death. \nAnd there he stood, unaffected by the mire of bodily fluids. The cowl of the black cape was too deep to even hint at a face. But the black leather of his coat and pants left little to circumspect. He was tall and lanky, but hardly bone thin. He waited, the scythe causally resting across his shoulders. \n\nI reloaded the gun.\n\n“Is this like Santa; If I kill you I become you?” I asked as causally as I could manage.\n\nDeath was eerie in his stillness. No breaths whispered through the air, there was no slight repositioning or fidgeting. \n\nI lifted the hand gun, focusing on his head. Hopefully he was less messy than the witch. \n\nA black shadow burst from where the hag’s body had fallen, alarmingly long talons reaching for me.\n\nDeath swirled the scythe from his shoulders, beheading the shadow, before I could twitch. \n\nThen he was standing in front of me. The barrel of my gun pressed into surprisingly corporeal flesh, and he flicked on the safety.\n\nThe scythe swung back over his shoulder and his disappeared. \n\nDeath started to appear every time I killed someone. And then sometimes when I hadn’t. He would appear in my living room, reading one of the many treasured books that I hauled no matter where I moved. He never spoke, even when provoked. \n\nI had been restless in the small apartment, the Dakota winter too fiercely cold to venture out, the sky too dreary to give the short day a sense of purpose. It was midafternoon and I hadn’t changed out of what I had slept in. \n\nDeath appeared crosslegged on the floor in front of my bookcase. \n\n“Most people call or knock,” I grumbled, “or at least yell ‘Yoowhoo’ before invading.” \n\nDeath ignored me and pulled out my favorite book, flipping to a quarter way in. \nFrustrated, bored and severely wanting to start a fight with an unnatural being that would surely kick my ass into the afterlife, I rummaged through the box of crap next to the couch. \n\nI had never bothered to unpack. Some people refused to see the difference between killing a werewolf and killing a person. \n\nI ruffled through notebooks filled with worthless doodles and thoughts I didn’t have the balls to toss, a few loose tools and a deck of cards. \n\nOn a snap decision, I dealt out two hands for Madam, flicking the cards next to Death. \n\n“Look at that. Queen of Spades, Queen of Hearts and a 2. You’re ethereal ass is about to be handed to you.”\n\nDeath continued to ignore me, but he had tilted his head toward me. \n\nI discarded the hand and reshuffled the cards I could reach. \n\n“We can play Go Fish if that’s more your speed,” I offered as condescendingly as possible. \n\nHe was across the room before I could come up with another asshole comment. \nHe took off his gloves, revealing paper white skin, marked with purple scars, and grabbed the cards from me. \n\nThe cards were a blur as he shuffle and dealt out five cards. \n\nI peeked at my cards, a flush. \n\n“Let’s gamble a bit.”\n\nNo response.\n\n“If I win, you drop the hood.”\n\nHis head titled to the side, like a deadly, but curious, puppy.\n\n“If you win, well, fuck. I don’t actually know what you’d want. But you can’t have my what's left of my soul.”\n\nA small sigh fluttered his cowl. \n\n“If I win…” his voice was startlingly smooth, “you will play a game with me every week until you die.”\n\nI grinned and flipped my cards. He held the cards out uncertainly. \n\nDeath had crap for cards. \n\nI smiled and wink, “Strip.”\n\nDeath didn’t hesitate as he flipped back the hood. \n\nTurns out, the Death didn’t have reason to be shy. \n\nAn unruly shock of silver hair stuck up in random places, presumably from cowl hair. His face was just as paper pale as his hands had been, but there weren’t any scars. His nose had clearly been broken once though. Death scowled slightly at my scrutiny. \n\nI shrugged. \n\n“Do you actually know how to play, play poker?”\n\nHe worked his jaw, “No.”\n\n“Do you know how to play any game?”\n\nHis eyes slid past me. \n\n“Alright. Let’s start with something more controllable. Chess or Go Fish. Your choice.”\n\nHis icy blue eyes deepened to straight black as he glared.\n \n“Righto, chess it is.”\n", "The blood was still dripping from the large kitchen knife as Death leaned toward the shifting soul of the young girl who had just committed suicide. He cocked his head to the side and looked at her before summoning a chess board between them. He quietly arranged the pieces and motioned her to sit. The girl looked at Death with confusion and slowly sat down. \n\n\"What are you doing? Are'nt you supposed to take me now?\" \n\nDeath glanced up and held her gaze. \"I'm giving you the chance to win back Life.\"\n\nThe girl stared incredulously at Him. \"Are you serious?\" She held out her shroudy arms covered in deep cuts. \"Do you see these? Does it look like I want to live?!\" \n\n\"Let's just say that I'm feeling generous today\"\n\n\"I don't care, I'm not going to play.\"\n\nDeath peered into her eyes with a piercing stare. \"If you knew the things I did about your potential...well this,\" He motioned to the cuts, \"Would never have happened.\" \n\n\"You can see my life?\" \n\n\"To see death, one must also see life. That's how I know who's ready to go and who isn't, and you my dear have more life than you give yourself credit for.\" \n\nThe girl looked down in silence and quietly cried. \n\n\"You have a slight advantage you know. I never learned how to properly play this game.\"\n\nThe girl looked up and whispered, \"I don't know how to play either.\"\n\n\"Well the odds are even then. I believe you should go first.\"\n\n\"But, we don't know the rules.\"\n\nDeath pondered quietly for a moment. \"Well I suppose we'll just have to make up our own. Your move.\"\n\nNeither won the game, but Death gave her back her life. For Death is not a cruel taker of life, but merely the angel who ferries the lost souls from their bodies to their final home when their time comes, or who gives back that life which some have momentarily lost sight of. \n\n ", "######[](#dropcap)\n\n\"I'm sorry, sir. That's not how this works.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, that's not how this works?\" The man was belligerent. The Grim Reaper leaned his scythe against the door and walked toward the man's hospital bed.\n\n\"You see, there's not actually any way to challenge me for your life. Those are all just stories. People really got carried away with the concept a few thousand years ago. But the truth is, when you're done, you're done. I'm sorry.\"\n\nHe meant it sincerely. The man (whose name was Frederick) hemmed and hawed at this for a bit. His spirit sat down on the side of the bed, next to his body.\n\n\"I can tell you're upset.\"\n\n\"I need more time.\" Frederick put his head in his hands. \"I'm not ready to go. I can't...\"\n\nThe Grim Reaper sat down next to Frederick and put his skeleton arm over Frederick's shoulders. \"This is never easy for me. It was a bad rumor that got out of hand. I wish it had never started.\"\n\nFrederick sobbed.\n\nDeath sighed, placing his skeleton fingers on his skeleton chin. \"Alright, where's your chessboard?\"\n\nFrederick looked up. \"Really?\"\n\n\"You don't get to win anything, okay? But I have an hour to kill and you need to calm down. Death really isn't all that bad. You just need to get used to it.\"\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"Do you have a chessboard here?\"\n\n\"Um... no.\"\n\n\"Alright, hold on.\" The Grim Reaper reached into his robe and pulled out a large scroll. He unfurled it on the bedside table and pressed his skeleton fingers into the paper. Eventually an image of a chessboard appeared.\n\n\"There. It's like a touchscreen.\" Death pulled up a chair as Frederick settled himself on the side of the bed. \"I've never really played, you know.\"\n\nFrederick's head snapped upward. \"You haven't?\"\n\n\"Not really.\"\n\n\"I thought you would have taken thousands of chess players by now. You should be some kind of chess genius.\"\n\n\"I'm not the only Grim Reaper.\" Death scratched his head. \"Besides, I'm more of a music guy.\"\n\n\"You're not the only one?\"\n\n\"Oh, there's millions.\" He offered his hand to shake. \"My name's Dan, by the way.\"\n\n\"It's, um, nice to meet you.\" Frederick shook Dan's hands hesitantly, staring at the bones. Dan stared at the chessboard. \"Do you at least know the basics?\"\n\n\"I guess so. I know how most of the pieces move.\"\n\n\"Well, let's just play then,\" Frederick said breezily. \"I'll let you know if you do something wrong.\"\n\nDan did many things wrong. But eventually he got the hang of the game. He lost with his king walled in more with his own pieces than Frederick's.\n\n\"Huh.\" Dan stared at the board. \"So, that's checkmate. Do you want to play again?\"\n\nFrederick hesitated. \"What happens when I die?\"\n\n\"I can't just tell you. It's really a learning process.\"\n\nFrederick sighed. \"Well... Let's get this over with, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Okay, then.\" Death moved his chair back against the wall and put his scroll back in his robe. \"All you have to do is hold onto the scythe. Are you ready?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nDan picked up the scythe from where he left it, then walked over to Frederick.\n\n\"You know, sometimes I wish people could challenge me to a game for their life,\" he said as Frederick put his hands around the scythe. \"It would sure make this job a lot more interesting.\"", "Death entered Milford House through the wall. He felt nothing as he passed through the barrier. In fact, it had been a long time since he felt anything at all. Probably since before Jeanie left. And yes, all of his friends had been saying he should just get over it and stop spending all his free time, which, considering death is an ethereal being, is infinite, on watching the saddest movies from around the universe and weeping openly in the only shower in the apartment. Go somewhere, they said. Meet new people. Put it all into your job. Nothing worked. \n\nDeath had two marks on his list. This happened almost constantly and not at all. Time worked differently for death. Likely it still does, but for the rest of us, it's finite, so we have tenses. He went to the first person on his list. She lay in a hospital bed in room dark save one dusty lamp that cast an elliptical pool of light over the old woman. A tube ran from her throat to a machine. In a chair next to the old woman, another woman, slightly less old, though death had some trouble discerning age since he himself was ageless. He knew though, because being death has some advantages, that the slightly less old woman was the old woman's daughter. A woman teetering on the edge of poverty with two children in high school. Blech. Who cares? \n\nDeath waited. The slightly younger woman was praying. The she took a pillow out from behind the older woman's head and pressed it over her face. Death watched seconds pass on the clock. A minute. He leaned forward and touched the old woman's leg. Instantly, a little girl, about age eight, stood next to him. She watched the scene with wet eyes. \"Am I dead?\" she said. \n\nDeath nodded. He pointed without speaking. It didn't matter where he pointed. Wherever she walked led to the other side. \n\n\"How come I'm young again?\" the girl asked. \n\nDeath shrugged and shooed her towards the door. \n\nHe left the crying woman and the girl with wet eyes and went to see Braxton. The second name on his list. He wandered through the rooms, looking at framed photos, war mementos. In some ways, Jeanie was still there. She'd never left. Her things were in his apartment and not in his apartment. He could go to the time when they were together, but in this part of his long, drawn out existence, she felt distant. Even that word is not close enough to the way Death felt, but for us finites, it is the closest approximation. Besides, at best, the pain someone feels fits on us like a shoe many sizes too large, still warm and sweat-damp from the previous wearer. He misses her, even though she is there. He loves her and hates her and misses her and feels everything he's ever felt all at once. \n\nDeath arrived in Braxton's room just as he'd finished setting out a chessboard. Death watches as the man picked up each piece and examined it in the light. He rubbed each with a soft cloth. They were cut from glass. The board, too; the squares had been etched on.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" death said. \n\nBraxton seemed unfazed by the question. He didn't even jump. \"Is it tonight?\" he said. \n\nDeath nodded.\n\nBraxton motioned to the board. \"Will you play?\"\n\n\"It won't change anything,\" Death said. \n\n\"What if I win?\" \n\nDeath shrugged. \"It isn't something I'm doing. It's something you are. It's something that is.\" \n\n\"Five minutes,\" Braxton said. \"Play me for five minutes. If I win in five minutes, you'll give me extra time.\"\n\n\"How did you know I was coming?\" \n\nBraxton opened his mouth then closed it. \"I felt it,\" he said, patting his chest with an open palm.\n\n\"That's not intuition,\" Death said. \"It's just the way you were pressed. You expire soon.\" \n\n\"Five more minutes,\" Braxton said. \n\nDeath nodded. \n\n\"And I'll get more time?\"\n\nDeath shrugged.\n\nBraxton swallowed. \"Do you know how to play?\" \n\nDeath lifted the tallest piece from the back row and looked at it. He knew it was carved from a piece of volcanic glass in what the finites were calling Oregon now. The glass had been many other things in many other worlds many other times, but now it was a called a queen. \"I never learned,\" he said. \n\nBraxton explained the pieces. Pawns move one or two forward, attack diagonally. knights move in strange 'L' shapes. Rooks go forward. The king moves one space at a time. The corners of his mouth had filled with white bits of spittle. Death nodded each time the old man pointed to something new. \n\n\"You can go first,\" Braxton said. \n\nDeath moved a pawn near the two forward. Braxton mirrored his move. Death moved the pawn next to it two forward. Braxton took it. Death moved another pawn forward. \n\n\"Why,\" Death said, \"is the queen the best piece?\" \n\n\"Because she has mobility?\" Braxton said. \"I never thought about it. She just is.\" \n\nDeath nodded. He thought of Jeanie. Always leaving. Always coming. Always around. Never around. The world Braxton lived in had no true binaries, and yet, it was impossibly structured around them. Good and evil. Light and Dark. It made sense, the finites experienced sunset and sunrise, which they took as a binary, though it wasn't, not quite. In his life, if we want to call it that, he experienced sunup and sundown in every moment. \n\n\"Why do any of the pieces move the way they do?\"\n\n\"What?\" Braxton said. He slid a pawn forward and took another of death's pawns. \"Do you remember how the bishops work?\" \n\nDeath slid another pawn two spaces forward. \"Do you know what a record looks like?\" \n\nBraxton lifted a piece and held it above the board. \"A record? Like for music?\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \n\nBraxton nodded. \"My parents had a few when I was a child. I haven't seen them in years,\" he said. \n\n\"You understand the concept though?\" \n\n\"I think so,\" he said. He set the piece down, mirroring death's piece. \n\n\"Where do the songs live?\" \n\n\"I don't follow,\" Braxton said. \n\n\"On a record, where do the songs live?\" \n\n\"In the grooves? In the bumps?\" Braxton said.\n\n\"Or do they live in your mind?\" \n\n\"What?\" \n\nDeath reached out and selected his queen. He pushed it forward, through the line of pawns ahead of it and crashed it into the ranks of white pawns. Braxton pulled his hands back as if the air was suddenly hot and full of bees. Death slid the queen until she knocked over Braxton's king.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" \n\n\"A song doesn't get to choose how long it is. A song is pressed into the record. It plays when the needle moves over it. The last note in each song doesn't get to ask for more time. It plays as it's played, then it ceases.\" \n\nDeath grabbed Braxton's hand. It went limp and he tumbled to the floor, sprawling the board and pieces everywhere, save the black queen, which death held in his hand. The young man who instantaneously stood next him opened his mouth in a wide 'O' of fear. \n\n\"You said I'd have more time,\" Braxton said. \n\nDeath shrugged. He tucked the black queen into the fold of his robe. \"It's not something I give or take. It is simply the end.\" \n\nBefore Braxton could say anything more, Death was at home, in the shower. He was watching sad films on his laptop and eating Cheerios from the box. He felt Jeanie all around him and not at all. He wept, he weeps, but he never smiles. He set the chess piece with a billion other trinkets he's collected over the course of time. The black queen sits, collecting dust, and she also sits in the hand of her owner. She is encased in rock. She expands and explodes. She became molten and roiled in the earth. She is a star. She is chess piece. She is never coming back, he thinks. He is back in the shower. He is in Braxton's room. The record, world, the universe; we all spin on.", "He was dead. Totally, utterly, hopelessly dead. \n\nHe found himself on an endless shoreline that embraced the horizon at both ends, with a tide that silently rocked back and forth as if having an episode.\n\n\"Hello?\" he called out to the tide. There was no answer, not even an echo. He turned on his heels and surveyed the surroundings. Behind him was a second shore, equally endless, with a tide as hopeless as the previous. He stood on a limitless stream of sand between two infinite waters.\n\n\"Shit,\" he proclaimed with finality.\n\nHe heard someone cough politely to his right. A robed figure was sat by a small, round table with fold out legs, setting down a stack of board games. It had no discernable gender, or skin for that matter, but pale white bone, and deep, empty sockets where its eyes would have been.\n\n\"Skeletor?\" The deceased man asked the figure. The figure dropped the board games unceremoniously and sighed. It's skull quivered, as if trying to compensate for the lack of eyes to roll, before it spoke. \"Why,\" it hissed, \"does everyone of your age always say that?\"\n\nIt stood to it's full length, and was of an enviable height. \"I am Death.\"\n\n\"Larry,\" the deceased man responded. \n\"No, not Larry, Death.\" Death snapped back. \n\"No, I'm Larry,\" said Larry. \n\"Oh, right, of course you are, I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away there, you know how it is.\" \n\nDeath took his seat again and crossed his legs. \"Want to sit, Larry?\" He gestured at the empty chair opposite to him. Larry did, and glanced at the board games. All the classics were there; Risk, Monopoly, Carcassone, Checkers, Chess, even Jenga.\n\n\"We're going to play a game, Larry. Just to pass the time.\" said Death. \n\n\"For what?\" Larry asked. \n\"What do you mean for what?\" \n\"Well, is it, like, for my soul or something?\" \nDeath chuckled. \"No, of course not, we don't do that anymore.\" \n\"Why not?\" \nDeath sighed again, cold wind whistling through his nostril cavity. \"Management didn't like it. There were... complications.\" \n\"Did people win?\" \nDeath nodded morosely. \n\"Often?\" \nA beat, and Death nodded again. \n\"You must really suck at this-\" \n\"DEATH DOES NOT SUCK AT THIS!\" Death roared.\n\nSilence fell over the beach again.\n\n\"I just... don't know how to play chess. And ever since that Bergman asshole, that's all that anyone wanted to play.\" He buried his cadaverous face in his boney palms.\n\n\"Why even offer it as an option then?\" Larry asked, gesturing at the pile of games. \"Why not just play the ones you know you can win?\"\n\n\"We're not allowed to cheat. Death has to be merciless, but fair. No cheating, no limitless loans from the bank in Monopoly, not even an extra turn in Risk. Everyone needs to have an option on the game, and since people are living longer and longer every year, we have to keep both classics and new things around. It takes forever just to learn the rules. I mean, just yesterday they were talking about making us learn Arkham Horror - have you seen the size of that manual?\" Death shook his head in dismay. \"This job. This fucking job.\" \n\nLarry thought about this for a second. \"Who's we?\" \n\"We, me and the other Deaths.\" \n\"Other deaths?\" \n\"Like how there isn't just one Santa, or one God.\" \n\"Santa's real?\" \n\"Oh, that's the part you're going to take issue with.\"\n\nDeath stretched himself and gazed upward. Larry looked up, and saw above him not constellations, but a third ocean, tranquil, far out in the distance, with thousands of islands, and sand streams, with thousands of lit fires, and even more people, each playing a final game with their own personal Death.\n\n\"You weren't kidding.\" \n\"Death doesn't kid.\" \n\"So why even do this anymore? If there isn't a catch, or anything to win?\" \n\"Dying is really scary. So instead of just throwing you right into what comes next - no, don't even ask, I'm not telling - we, some of the guys at the office, thought that instead of that, we'd have a moment together with you. Just a moment, really, all this happens before your body has even gone cold, and offer a chance to see that it's not all bad.\"\n\nLarry shifted in his chair. \"Does everyone get this option?\" \nDeath nodded. \"Even the bad ones. But they don't get an option on the game. That much we bend the rules.\" \n\"So what do they play?\" \n\"Mary Kings Riding Star.\" \n\nLarry sized up the board games, and glanced at the ocean sky again. He could make out the multiple Deaths and their guests, laughing, talking smack, some crying, others like they were visiting an old friend. \n\n\"Which one is your favorite?\" Larry finally asked.\nDeath looked puzzled. Larry gestured at the stack of games. \"The one you like most.\"\n\n\"We're not supposed to-\"\nLarry waved his hand. \"Bahbahbahbah, come on.\"\nDeath leaned forward, a skeletal hand on his cheekbone, and whispered. \"I always preferred Risk.\"\n\nLarry smiled. \"Risk it is.\"", "David scratched at his head. They always wanted to play games when it was their time. He didn't mind, not really. His job could be lonely at times, and if anything it was nice to have a conversation about something other than the meaning of it all, but he really needed to stop letting them pick the game.\n\n“So, this one here,” He dangled a small wooden tower from his thin fingers, “this is called the Rook? Is that correct?”\n\nOpposite him, Tyler sat with his arms crossed. When he died, he had expected someone different. Well, if he were to be honest, he hadn't expected anything, but if there was supposed to be something, David wasn't it. The Grim Reaper was supposed to be a tall, hooded figure with empty sockets for eyes and long bony fingers. It was supposed guide you towards the beyond, scythe in hand, and explain to you the mysteries of the universe.\n\nDavid reminded him of his old accountant.\n\nHe was tall, sure, but not imposingly so and he barely looked like he would be capable of reaping a gerbil, let alone a person. He wore a loose black suit, pressed in all the wrong places, with a dark scarlet tie hanging limply from his neck. When he smiled, Tyler imagined a row of tombstones, crooked and chipped. \n\n“Yes.” Tyler said.\n\n“It looks nothing like a bird.” David's hands hovered over the pieces on the board, carefully picking up and inspecting each one, before returning them to their positions. \n\n“It's not supposed to. Are you sure you know how to play?” \n\nDavid waved a hand dismissively, staring at his King. “Yes, yes. Played thousands of times. All the greats. It has just been a while.”\n\nThe room was small and lined with bookshelves. Loose papers and half-empty hourglasses were scattered about every surface and David's desk was stained by rings of coffee cups. It had been the first thing Tyler asked about. I don't get much sleep. And I like the taste of it. Would you like some?\n\nThe coffee was terrible, but coffee was coffee.\n\nTaking a sip from his cup, Tyler leaned forward. “Should we begin then? You've been looking at the pieces an awful long time.”\n\n“Time is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Everyone and everything has a time. Yours will come soon enough.” He never lifted his face, instead focusing entirely on his knight. “I will move my knight.”\n\n“But, I'm white.” Tyler said.\n\nDavid looked up, staring at him. “I hardly see why that matters.”\n\n“Well,” he said, “white moves first. That's the rule.”\n\n“I know the rules.” David waved his hand, his pieces a stark alabaster compared to Tyler's own obsidian. “I will move my knight.”\n\nTyler pushed his pawn forward, raising an eyebrow as David did the same in return. Another pawn, another mirror. The bishop, the same. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “May I ask a question?” \n\nDavid looked over the board, and then at the boy. He was young, not a child, but young. Old enough to know his position, but naive enough to believe there was a way out of it. He would use the game as a lesson. Mirror his movements precisely, make him feel as if no matter what move he made, it would lead nowhere. Then, when he was properly frustrated, David would strike with his Knight. He particularly liked that piece. It reminded him of his own horse. \n\nBest of all, David thought, was that the boy never needed to know that he had no idea what he was doing. “You may,” he said.\n\n“Could we, well,” Tyler scratched as his neck, looking about the room, “could we play a different game? Checkers, perhaps?”\n\nDavid clapped his hands together. Checkers was a game he understood. “Are you saying you forfeit? Have you realized how fruitless your endeavors are in the grand scheme of things? Do you feel as if you are but a small, insignificant speck lost amongst the stars of your universe?” He smiled, like a parent would to a child. “It is alright to feel that way. That is how they all feel, in the end. I am here to help with that.”\n\n“No.” Tyler said flatly. “I just thought you might enjoy playing something different. That's all.”\n\nDavid leaned back in his seat. “Oh. Yes, I suppose so.” \n\n“You're doing a fine job.” \n\n“Excuse me?” David raised an eyebrow.\n\n“You know, the whole Death thing. I just wanted you to know. You're doing fine.”\n\nDavid stood, the full measure of him at once visible to Tyler. Robes fluttered from his suit, trailing out along the floor and creeping up the walls, and his eyes sunk into crevices in his skull. He was the size of the room now and the darkness of his robes enveloped everything around them. In his hands, Tyler saw the scythe, shimmering in the blackness of it all. When David spoke, he could feel his entire being tremble and thought that he would be torn apart at the seams by the vibrations alone.\n\n“I am the Grim Reaper, the Boatman of Styx, the Keeper of Souls and Judge of the Damned. I have existed since the dawn of time itself and I will be there at the very end to guide your Gods to their own. I. Am. Death!” In an instant, the room returned to normal and David was once again in the shape of Tyler's cowardly accountant. “But I appreciate that gesture. Thank you.”\n\nTyler blinked, realizing that he hadn't been breathing, and more surprisingly, that he no longer needed to. He wondered how long ago that happened. In front of them was a Checkers board. He watched as David picked up one of the pieces, holding it up in front of him.\n\n“This one will be my knight,” he said. “I will move my knight.”\n\t", "For a terrible moment, I thought the Reaper would refuse. \n\"Oh, very well then\" it said and sat down at the board. I palmed one black and one white pawn, held up my hands and the Reaper stared at me. \n\"Pick a colour\" I said. \n\"Pale\" said the Reaper. I shrugged, replaced the pawns, turned the board around. \n\"You move first,\" I prompted. The Reaper took quite a long time to move the pawn on f3 to f4. \n\nCould it be?\n\nIt shouldn't. It wouldn't be. I decided to test my assumption, to risk forty years of chess matches on the notion that Death was setting one last trap for me.\n\nI moved the pawn on e7 to e5 and waited. Nobody in their right mind would...\n\nWith two clicks, the Reaper demonstrated that I was wrong and that there was either an elaborate trap afoot or something had gone badly wrong. Death's pawn at e2 had moved to e4. \n\"Are you sure?\" \n\"Yes\" said Death, so I sailed my queen from d8 to h4 and sat back. \n\"Checkmate\" I said. Death stared. It stared some more. \n\"Oh yes,\" it said \"so it is. Well done.\" \nIn the silence that followed, Death toyed with a Rook. We spoke simultaneously. \n\"I confess I never actually learned...\" \n\"Do you actually know how to..?\" \nDeath nodded. \n\"No,\" it said \"I never learned to play Chess beyond a few basic moves.\" \n\"But everyone knows that if you beat Death at chess you get returned to life and live a longer span! Why wouldn't you know how to play?\" \n\nDeath looked around, then sat squarely before me. \n\"Is that what everyone knows?\" asked the reaper. \"I see. Whatever gave you the impression that beating me at Chess would change anything?\" \n\"Because that's what everybody knows!\" \nDeath stood. \n\"Everybody knows that before Columbus, everybody knew that the world was flat. Everybody knows that Twinkies have an indefinite shelf life, and everybody knows that vaccines cause Autism. Do you know what these things have in common?\" \n\"N...no?\" \n\"NONE OF THEM ARE TRUE\" snapped Death. \"If even one person had extended their life span by playing me at chess, do you think people would waste so much time playing sport? Staying fit? Eating healthy food? There would be no need.\" \n\"But...but...I spent my life learning to play chess, becoming really good at it so that I...oh god, I've wasted my life!\" \nDeath put a companionable arm around my shoulder. \n\"Not at all\" it said \"You spent it becoming very good at chess. If you'd wanted to spend it doing something else, perhaps you should have.\" ", "Chess: a test of foresight, planning, intelligence and cunning; a game developed to display prowess over another, and also a popular choice for challenging me for rights to keep your soul. There are two things that most people don’t realize about challenging Death to a game of chess though; the first, and what many deem to be the most important, is that I don’t know how to play chess. You see, I never learned.\n\nI look back down at the pieces strewn in front of me and contemplate the rules that govern my actions. One, I must accept any challenge for the rightful return of a soul and the prevention of entering the afterlife; Two, I am not allowed to pick the game. There are several other rules, but those two are really the most important. Amy Stewart, car wreck victim, was busy putting the chessboard together while I shifted in my chair attempting to become comfortable.\n\n“I’m sure you get this request often,” she was saying as she organized the pieces on the board. It wasn’t a real board, of course, merely a figment of the ether, but that is neither important nor relevant to the game. I knew a little bit, of course, but not any of the rules really.\n\n“I do,” I clacked, my lack of lips making many stare in awe the first time they hear me speak. Amy was no different; she paused and stared at me in shock.\n\n“I figured you would, you know, just project the thoughts into my head,” she said with awe as a piece, I think they’re called pawns, hovered over a black square.\n\n“I can talk just fine,” I said as I shifted the scythe in my hands. “Finish setting up the board and explain the rules please.”\n\nShe paused with another piece, different this time, hovering between its storage box and the board, “The rules? Like, the rules?”\n\n“Yes,” I said matter-of-factly as I watched her place the pieces with a mixture of renewed vigor, and trepidation.\n\nA thin smile began to cross her lips, “So you don’t know how to play chess?”\n\n“No,” I said quite clearly as I glanced behind her. The ambulance had arrived it seemed, and the EMT’s were busy dragging everyone from the wreck. A nasty pile-up, but Amy was the only one on my list. The rest would be in intensive care, or be lucky and only receive minor injuries.\n\nShe rubbed her hands together, “So the goal is to capture the King; that’s this piece” she pointed to a piece on the board on both her side, and then mine. “It can only move one square at a time.”\n\n“I see,” I said, barely listening. The EMT’s had started prioritizing, but they hadn’t realized the extent of Amy’s injuries yet. Internal bleeding I believe was the main issue. Her stomach and intestines had ruptured, and blood was pouring into them. They would find out soon enough. I turned my attention back to Amy, who was still explaining the rules.\n\n“The Knight, this horsey here, can only move in an L-shaped pattern,” she said, demonstrating the movements across the board.\n\n“You sure do seem to know a lot about this game,” I whispered as she excitedly began to demonstrate how other pieces moved. The Preacher, or whatever, could only move diagonally, the Pawn could move once or twice or something, and on and on it seemed to go.\n\n“I was the champion of our high school chess team,” she said proudly as she put the finishing touches on the board.\n\nWith a sigh of relief I gently shifted my scythe around and glanced behind her again. The EMT’s had found Amy at last. It wouldn’t be long now. “Who goes first?”\n\n“White,” Amy said with a smile as she moved a pawn two spaces forward.\n\n“And I am black,” I mused, “Rather stereotypical, don’t you think?” I mimicked her move on the board and returned to staring at the work going on around us.\n\n“Light versus Dark; Good versus Evil,” Amy said with a bitter smile. She moved another pawn, opening up a hole in the ranks. I figured this wouldn’t pose well for her King, but I didn’t know enough to be certain.\n\nI again mimicked her movements, “I am none of those things,” I said darkly. I had been accused of many things over many, many years; however none ever seemed to touch on the real nature of my work. I am not cruel, nor cold, nor evil; I am merely indifferent to your suffering. The game is a chance to put off the inevitable, but I will always be back in the blink of an eye, and you will again not be ready.\n\n“The Queen’s Gambit,” she muttered as she moved yet another piece; the Horse I think. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to play chess?”\n\n“I don’t,” I said as I randomly picked a piece this time and moved it. The EMT’s had found the bleeding. Time was ticking as she mused over whether or not this was a trick; if I was some sort of Grand Marshall, or whatever they call it, and was merely toying with her. After all, as far as she knew, I won quite often.\n\n“Interesting, interesting,” she mused as she moved another piece. Apparently something I had done with the last move worried her. If I had been able to openly smile, I would have. “Would you ever lie to me?”\n\n“No,” I answered as I picked another piece at random to move. \n\n“Ah-ha!” she shouted as she struck forward with a piece and knocked one of mine off the board, “That should complicate matters for you.” She smiled at me wickedly while the EMT’s worked furiously to stabilize her condition for transport. A helicopter would be necessary, I heard one mutter. \n\n“I see,” I muttered as I looked at the offending piece. I moved another.\n\nShe frowned, “You’re either really good, or really stupid.”\n\n“I can assure you,” I clacked, my own version of a laugh, “I am neither.”\n\nShe muttered to herself as the EMT’s began shouting to each other and working more fervently. She didn’t notice, of course, she never turned around to even look at the scene. She was so confident, so wrapped up in the game and her sense of time that she failed to notice anything else. She moved another piece.\n\nI moved.\n\nShe moved.\n\nI moved.\n\nThe EMT’s worked frantically.\n\nShe made a motion to move a piece and suddenly stopped. “I…” she held a hand to her stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”\n\n“I imagine by this point several pints of blood and fluids have entered into your stomach and intestinal tract,” I said as I looked at the scene behind her. \n\n“W-what?” she muttered, before turning around the first time to look at the scene behind her.\n\nI reached into my robes and pulled out a book, “In fact, it is almost time to go.”\n\nShe turned back to me, her eyes wide and her mouth agape, “But we haven’t finished the game.” She stood and pointed at the board in front of her, “You said I could challenge you for my life, and the game isn’t over!”\n\nI reached out and gently took her arm, “Yes, my dear, it is. The game ended 15 seconds ago.”\n\nWith her eyes wide with horror, she turned and looked back at the two defeated EMT’s, their head in their hands rather than working. Her friends who were stable enough to stand looked on, tears in their eyes. Heads were shaking, tears were being shed, and loud screams were being heard from all around as Amy Stewart looked at her dead body in horror.\n\n“But, the game…” she whispered and turned to look back at the board. She recoiled in greater horror when she saw her King lying on its side in perfect Checkmate. “H-how?”\n\nI turned and began gently guiding her down the road, “I really am terrible at Chess, but what most people forget is the second thing about challenging me for your soul: the rules are insignificant compared to the relentless marching of time. Choose your game wisely.” \n\n[r/grenadiere42](http://www.reddit.com/r/grenadiere42)", "SO, THE LITTLE ONES CAN MOVE FORWARD ONE OR TWO SPACES-\n\n\"Pawns, and they only move two spaces if they haven't moved before.\"\n\nYES, RIGHT. THE ONES WITH THE HATS-\n\n\"Bishops.\"\n\n-MOVE DIAGONALLY, THE CASTLES -\n\n\"Rooks.\"\n\n-YES, I KNOW - MOVE IN STRAIGHT LINES, THE HORSES -\n\n\"Knights!\"\n\nTHERE ISN'T A KNIGHT. IT'S JUST THE HORSE, AND YOU CAN'T KNIGHT THOSE. THEY MOVE IN L SHAPES?\n\n\"Yes, and they are knights.\"\n\nAND THE LAST TWO... ONE OF THEM MOVES HOWEVER SHE PLEASES, THE OTHER CAN MOVE ONE TILE IN ANY DIRECTION. I CAN'T TELL WHICH ONE IS WHICH. WHY DON'T WE JUST PLAY CHECKERS?\n\nMarcus would have gotten a headache if he still had a physical head. Checkers was starting to look appealing, but he wasn't ranked as a Grandmaster of checkers by the FIDE. \n\nDeath, the robed skeleton sitting across from him at the table, wicked sharp scythe leaning against his chair, tapped his bony fingers on his chin. AND THE OBJECTIVE OF THE GAME IS...?\n\nRather than waste his time explaining check and checkmate, Marcus just responded, \"You have to kill the king.\"\n\nAH, said Death, his mouth not moving. I AM QUITE GOOD AT THAT.\n\n\"I'm sure you are,\" Marcus said. \"I'll let you go first.\"\n\nTHANK YOU.\n\nDeath stood from the table, took his scythe, and with one surgical swing that didn't make any other pieces so much as wobble, decapitated Marcus's king. The wooden head rolled off the table and through Marcus's ghostly lap.\n\nTHERE. THE KING IS DEAD, Death said, taking his seat again. I QUITE LIKE THIS GAME.\n\n\"You have to kill the king using your pieces,\" Marcus said, moments from crying.\n\nDeath looked over his side of the board. I DON'T SEE A PIECE WITH A SCYTHE, THOUGH.\n\n\"No, you know what, forget it,\" said Marcus. \"I give up. You win! Death always wins in the end, ha ha. Reap me now, or however you do it.\"\n\nOne smooth swing, and the ghost of the grandmaster was gone. Death stood alone in the empty, gray expanse. He sighed - lack of lungs notwithstanding - and dispelled the chess board with a wave of his hand. Playing dumb, he had found, was the best strategy for dealing with chess players. He was a busy anthropomorphic representation, and chess was not a fast game.\n\nHe much preferred checkers. Or tic-tac-toe. That was a real thinking anthropomorphic representation's game.\n\n----\n\nCheck my [blog!](http://theballadsofirving.com)" ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 4, 6, 8, 15, 18, 28, 74, 311 ]	[ "1452722063", "1452711445", "1452737538", "1452709666", "1452710653", "1452715209", "1452712803", "1452703783", "1452707430", "1452704241", "1452703384", "1452702302", "1452701140", "1452699238" ]
	[WP] Two fighters are having a death match in my bathroom. That's the second strangest thing to happen to me today.	47	[ "A sharp rapping on the door jerked me awake. I glanced at the nightstand to see what time it was since I was definitely late for work.\n\n\"What the hell?\" My alarm clock wasn't there. The knocking started again, louder. \"Enough already!\" was my angry reply. I hopped out of bed, threw on a t-shirt, and reached down for my slippers. My hand hit bare floor. \"Ugh,\" I grunted, giving up and heading to the living room.\n\nStanding behind my apartment door were two massive, hulking men. One sported a mohawk and introduced himself as \"Superman\" Steve.\n\n\"Is the arena ready?\" Steve's voice was deep and gravelly.\n\n\"The arena?\"\n\n\"Surely you have not forgotten our arrangement? In exchange for the use of Melissa's spare bedroom on the weekends, you have agreed that I may use your spare bathroom as an office.\"\n\n\"Uh, right.\" I stuttered. \"And could you just remind me what your business is?\"\n\n\"Once again, I am a lawyer. How many times must I describe the legal proceedings to you?\" He was getting agitated, but I did not understand.\n\n\"What legal proceedings?\"\n\n\"Trial by combat. Now move out of our way, this man has three unpaid parking tickets that he must answer for.\"\n\nThey shoved past me and stomped towards my bathroom. I was going to follow, but decided I needed some coffee before dealing with this 'trial' so I went to the kitchen. The only problem? My coffee maker wasn't there.\n\nNow fully awakened, only by anger rather than coffee, I went to the bathroom. Just as I opened the door, Steve's voice boomed, \"Then let us begin!\" Instantly they grappled and began smashing around the tiny bathroom, a whirlwind of punches and kicks, bites and knees. In the midst of it all, Steve, deserving of his nickname, somehow managed to meet my eyes and in a very scolding tone say, \"Aren't you late for work?\"\n\nAt a total loss for a reply to anything that was happening, I put on some shoes, grabbed my car keys, and headed to the parking garage. My car wasn't there.", "Two fighters are having a death match in my bathroom. That's the second strangest thing to happen to me today... The first one being an army of monkeys with little hats destroying my car for no apparent reason. As my friend, Derek was trying to explain to the police why there is a poacher trying to kill him. I was about to let loose another uncontrollable roar. Even if I understood that the police was here to help, I had that new urge to defend my territory... because I had been transformed in some kind of half human half lion thing...Yeeep...\n\nEven if there is always fur stuck in my eyes, the increased strength could be very useful in this situation. After all, the winner of the bathroom fight is coming for me next. While Derek was speaking to the police, the officer received an emergency call:\n\n''All units to the local Buy-Mart, All units to the Buy-Mart. We need every unit to secure citizen from giants bird. This is not a joke.''\n\nHeh... must be the pterodactyl flock from earlier. As soon as the police officer got out, the gladiator busted open the door of the bathroom.\n\n''LION MAN'' He said, pointing his spear at me.\n\n''YOU SHALL PERISH AT THE TIP OF MY BLADE AND IT IS I WHO SHALL MARY THE PRINCESS!'' The gladiator said, with a powerful voice.\n\nI had no idea what he was talking about of course, but, I felt ready. I would even say, excited. I let out a roar while pounding on him, my lion's claw got right through his leather armor as my giant teeth were going in his neck. Derek was still chasing the few monkeys left in the kitchen so he couldn't really help me. As soon as the gladiator died on the floor, he transformed in dust that vanished in thin air. Now that I tasted blood, I wanted more.\n\n''Derek?'' I roared\n\n''Is there still some monkeys in the kitchen?''\n\nDerek screamed:\n\n‘’HERE AND THERE’’ As I could hear the noise of cooking pan banging.\n\nI went to the kitchen and quickly slay the monkeys and proceeded to eat them. I was satisfied: there were no more monkey in the kitchen, the gladiator were both dead and all the pterodactyl had gone away. There was only one thing left...\n\n''The poacher'' I muttered.\n\nDerek's eyes went wide while looking at me, then, a gunshot could be heard, busting a hole in the kitchen wall.\n\n''RUN'' I roared to Derek, who was not nearly as fit for combat as I now was.\n\nThe poacher threw a bolas at my legs and another one at my arms as I was about to attack him. I felt to the floor. He then knelt beside me:\n\n''You are a fine beast, but you are not what I am looking for...I'll come back for you later'' The poacher said with a calm voice.\n\nI could hear Derek trying to start the wrecked car's engine in the garage. The poacher could hear it too. He rose back up, head turned to look at the garage entrance and started walking to it.\n\nWhile I tough that my friend was done for, an incredibly beautiful women casually got out of the wardrobe by the entrance. She drew out a pistol and shot the poacher in the head without hesitation. As Derek got out of the car, the beautiful women looked at me and said:\n\n''I am the princess, and I have come to lay with you, my king''\n\nAs she was untying me, Derek was frantically searching through the house. The princess took my hand with a playful smile guiding me to the bedroom upstairs. Then I heard Derek shout:\n\n''I FOUND IT, I FOUNT IT''\n\nWhile the princess was closing the door of my bedroom, I quickly answered:\n\n''CAN'T YOU WAIT FOR TEN MINUTE, PLEEEASE''\n\n...\n\n''JUMANJI'' Derek shouted.\n\nWhen I turned away to look at her, the princess was already decomposing into a fine dust.\n\n''DAMN IT DEREK''\n\n\n", "#Title: Brought Back to Find Her\n\n\"Can you see into the flames Jacob,\" said Veronica. \n\n\"What am I seeing?\" said Jacob. \n\n\"You're seeing the flood waters that took you away,\" said Veronica. She smiled and passed her hand over the flames. It changed into the next scene. \"The flood where you died.\" \n\nJacob saw a lifeless, bloated body floating in some water. The body flipped over. \n\nIt was Jacob's death-disfigured face. \n\n\"No,\" said Jacob. He gripped his chest. He was in a dimly lit cavern. \"No I don't believe it.\" \n\n\"But we,\" said Veronica. She was wearing a black dress that ran all the way down to her ankles. She passed her hands over the flames anew. It was a scene of many people emerging from a cave on near a shore. They analyzed the body, nodded at one another, and carried it into the cave. \"We took you into our cavern. And cast our spells.\" \n\nJacob looked at his arms and frantically stared around the cave as he edged away from her. \n\n\"What is this,\" he said. He shook his head. She'd jogged his memory. \"I remember now, I remember it. I died, I remember those sudden waves. I remember how I was taking a photo out on the shore. And I remember,\" Jacob pressed his fist to his lips. He bit it. \"I remember my daughter, is she safe?\" \n\n\"We saw a child,\" said Veronica. \"But we don't know.\" \n\nJacob stood up and grabbed her. Even Veronica didn't foresee Jacob's sudden rage. \n\n\"IS SHE SAFE,\" screamed Jacob. \n\nVeronica was terrified of Jacob within that moment, but she still gave off a certain witchy, lusty vibe. She stared into his eyes with terror and longing, then looked into the flames. \n\n\"We can't tell, the flames won't tell,\" said Veronica. Jacob backed away from her and buried his face into his hands. Then he went from emotional to composed. He was alive now. He needed to find her. \"But there are certain,\" said Veronica. She removed a button of her gown. \"Certain things I require of you. If you want my help.\" \n\n\"You're not,\" said Jacob. Veronica brought his hand up to her chest. \"You're not serious.\" \n\n\"I need you to examine my breast,\" she said. She got very business like all of the sudden. \"You were a doctor in your previous life, were you not? The flames said so.\" \n\n\"Oh yeah,\" said Jacob. He went to work, nothing erotic. \"Actually yeah, how long have you had this lump?\" \n\n\"Been there for years, maybe five years,\" said Veronica. \n\n\"Hasn't grown much?\" said Jacob. \n\n\"Not really,\" said Veronica. \n\n\"Hopefully a lipoma,\" said Jacob. \"But you should really get a proper check up, you witches get healthcare?\"\n\n\"We're thinking about it, we're thinking about it,\" said Veronica. \"Hard to get a good on a good employer plan when your job's being a witch though.\" \n\n\"I can't imagine,\" said Jacob. \n\nThey sort of nodded in silence for a little while. Then they got confused what they were even getting at before. Then Jacob remembered again. \n\n\"OH RIGHT FIND MY DAUGHTER DAMN YOU USE YOUR DAMN MAGIC WITCH,\" said Jacob. \n\n\"We won't,\" said Veronica. She pressed her hand to Jacob's forehead. His eyes went white. \"But you will. Return to your home.\" \n\nAnd Jacob felt himself transported, as if through a wormhole, back into his house. \n\nEverything was as it was. His television set over there. The keys he left in the cup while he was on vacation. Everything was just as it should be. \n\nExcept for the sound of things falling and breaking all over upstairs. \n\nJacob ran up the steps. He listened for where the sound was coming from. \n\nIt was coming from his bathroom. \n\nHe slammed open the door. Two fighters were going at it on his bathroom floor. A Jamaican guy and a Russian. The way the blood was pouring, you'd think it was a fight to the death. \n\nIt was. \n\n\"In Soviet Russia,\" said the Russian fighter. He put the Jamaican guy into a hold. \"Arm breaks you.\" \n\nThen the Jamaican fighter got out of the hold and threw the Russian guy's face into the mirror. There was blood all over, and a messed up cracked reflection. \n\n\"In Jamaica mahhn,\" said the Jamaican fighter. He then recited a common Jamaican proverb. \"Rain never fall a' one mahhhn door. And das a why I'm gon break ya face, him say don' break mine go on and try break mah face mahhn. What ahm sayin' mahhn.\" \n\n\"Is difficult translate your English,\" said Russian man as he worked the Jamaica guy back into a ground game. It was some beautiful jiu jitsu really, moves and counter moves. Like chess really. \n\n\"What am I even seeing?\" said Jacob. \n\nThe two men stood up quick like they were two brothers caught fighting by their unhappy parent. Then they looked like they'd seen a ghost. \n\n\"You dead mahhn,\" said the Jamaican guy. \n\n\"Is dead man,\" said Russian guy. \"Dead man looking for child.\" \n\nJacob grabbed them both by their shirts. He was stronger than they realized. Stronger than he realized, like death gave him power. \n\n\"WHERE IS SHE,\" said Jacob.\n\n\"In soviet Russia,\" said Russian fighter man. \"You find child.\" \n\n\"Wait what?\" said Jacob. \n\n\"She's in Soviet Russia mahhn,\" said the Jamaican fighter. Then he put his hand on Jacob's shoulder. \"And we gon help ya find her mahhn.\" \n\n\"Is good deed, is nice deed,\" said Russian fighter. \"We come here try to find clues. Sent by her mother. Daughter seen in pictures with Putin. Good pictures, nice pictures. He raise her like his own child for last week. Is good week. You divorce from mother. She's good lady, nice lady, rich lady, she pay for private investigation. We're professional. Good professionals, we're nice professionals. Is good idea.\" \n\nJacob let them both go. The fighters were relieved. Jacob sat on the toilet seat and stared at his hands. He didn't understand what the hell was going on, but he knew he needed to do something. For the time being, he'd work with them. \n\n\"All right then, if she's still alive,\" said Jacob. He looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face. \"Help me find her.\" ", "This is not shaping up to be the best day of my life – and I'm not just referring to the Greek goddess in my bed.\n\n\"Would you cut it out?\" I yell to the man with no left ear holding the man with the bleeding nose against the wall.\n\nPunch. Punch. Punch. The man with the bleeding nose's eyes go up his skull. That's three body parts in a ten word sentence. Impressive.\n\n\"I. Got. To. Kill. Him,\" the man with no left ear says, and he keeps punching.\n\n\"Bang his freaking head against the wall then,\" I say. \"Do you have any idea how long it takes to punch a person to \ndeath?\"\n\n\"Good idea!\" the man with no ear bangs the other one's head against the wall.\n\n\"No! God, no! Stop\" I hold his arm. \"I meant… hypothetically.\"\n\n\"I got to kill –\"\n\n\"Stop. Stop killing people in my bathroom. Just get out. And take him with you.\"\n\nI step out of the bathroom to find Eris lying in my bed, naked body covered in nothing but a blanket. Laughing like the crazy bitch goddess that she is. \n\n\"I assume that was your doing,\" I say.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" Eris replies. She rises to her knees, letting the blanket drop only enough that her left boob (and that's her best boob) shows, but not her right. \"Come back to bed, we still have time for some morning love.\"\n\n\"No thanks,\" I reply. \"I don't – OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!\"\n\nI step away, looking back. The two men have left the bathroom and crossed to the bedroom. Except they're not two \nbleeding fighters anymore. They're two old men dressed in overcoats drinking tea.\n\n\"—a physical process cannot give rise to experience all on its own. The human consciousness cannot, by its very nature, be explained by the rules of physics, my dear Jean-Paul.\"\n\n\"That is a very outdated way of thinking, Renee.\" The men take opposite seats on the foot of the bed, sipping \ntheir tea. \"Consciousness is a subjective phenomena, I will give you that, but that by no means will –\"\n\n\"WOULD YOU TWO PLEASE TAKE THE CONVERSATION OUTSIDE!?\" I yell, pulling the men by their collars up on their feet.\n\nEris laughs and laughs and laughs and her left boob bounces and bounces.\n\nThe men carry on their conversation all the way to the bedroom door and down the hallway outside.\n\n\"Funny. Now the fighters turned into Sartre and Kant. Very quirky.\"\n\n\"It was Descartes, but close enough.\"\n\n\"I suppose you're not done, are you?\"\n\nWait. Let me stop right here to be polite to you. This needs some explanation.\n\nEris here, she's no normal girl. Google her name and you'll find that Eris is a Greek goddess. Specifically the \ngoddess of chaos and randomness.\n\nYou know what happens when you see a shooting star and you make a wish and there's a God listening? \n\nWell, if it's the Christian one, he'll ignore you. That dude's got his hands full. He's got too much work to do to listen to prayers and all that shit.\n\nBut the Greek Gods? They've been out of a job for a long time. They're bored. They'll take you up on wishes, deals, \npacts, whatever.\n\nSo I see a shooting star and I wish for a new job, because, well, you know... even a rope and a stool costs money. This was a few weeks ago. And you know what happens? I get a freaking job as a CEO on a tech company the next day. I don't even know what they do, honestly. They just called me up and gave me the job.\n\nBut alas (did I use alas right? I've never used alas before), there was a catch. Eris showed up a couple of weeks \nlater, which was yesterday, and we made sweet sweet love, which was awesome. And then she told me who she \nwas and what she did for me, and how the price I must pay now is live by her –\n\nHold on. There's a hive of incredibly tiny alpacas coming through the window demanding better pay and flexible \nhours or they'll unionize. \n\n\"Can you please get the alpacas out?\" I ask Eris. \"I'm trying to explain to these guys what's going on.\"\n\n\"No more llamas! No more llamas!\" the alpacas chant.\n\nEris waves her hand and the alpacas disappear. Laughing all the way through, the bitch.\n\nAll right. So, like I was saying – the catch. I have the job I wanted. I'm rich. Successful. But I have to live by her \nrules. Eris' rules.\n\nWhich means she gets to do whatever the fuck she wants with me and my life, whenever she feels like it. Just for fun. \n\nAnd I mean anything.\n\nA bored Goddess of Chaos and Randomness is a fucked up entity to be controlling your life, let me tell you.\n\nOk, so that's the gist. That's the situation as it is right now. Moving on:\n\n\"So?\" Eris continues, rising from bed now and dropping the blanket all the way down. Jesus, her right boob is \npretty good, also. \"One more for the road?\"\n\n\"No, I… just leave, please.\"\n\n\"You're making me feel cheap,\" Eris says, with a smirk.\n\n\"Well, you're making my cat sing Bon Jovi,\" I reply, which is true. Tuco is on the corner by the nightstand nailing \nthe shit out of the high notes from Always. \"I think we're even.\"\n\n\"All right then… you'll be seeing me again soon, though… and don't forget that even when I'm not around, I'm still \ncontrolling your life.\"\n\nShe goes for the window.\n\n\"Wait!\" I say, going after her. \"When does it end? What do I have to do?\"\n\n\"Fuck if I know,\" Eris replies, climbing to the ledge. \n\n\"Come on! There's gotta be a quest, right? Tasks? Ordeals? A journey I have to go through to end this. What's the \nplan?\"\n\nEris turns back, and she brushes her hand across my cheek. \"I'm the goddess of Chaos, dude. I don't give a shit.\"\n\nAnd she turns into a bat and flies away.\n\nI turn back, running my eyes through my room, tired. My cat looks up at me.\n\n\"Jesus Christ,\" I say, throwing myself on the bed. \"This is so fucked up.\"\n\nTuco climbs by my side, nesting himself under my arm.\n\n\"What am I gonna do about this, Tuco?\"\n\nTuco raises his eyes at me. He sighs, scratches his head. And then he whispers \"This ain't a song for the broken-\nhearted.\"\n\nAnd my ceiling fan starts laughing.\n" ]	[ 2, 2, 3, 33 ]	[ "1452745745", "1452747227", "1452744781", "1452741496" ]
	[WP] Every time you sleep you have two dreams. One of those dreams is a vision and will become reality in the next 24-hours. The other dream is just a dream. It's usually easy to know which is which. Last night, both your dreams are plausible, and both of them are absolutely horrifying.	20	[ "off topic \rI wrote a story on this subreddit then I locked my phone to use the restroom. When I unlocked the screen my comment box was plank...", "Please, Somebody Listen\n~~ \nAh, thank God you're here! Look, i don't have much time, but you have to believe what i'm saying here may seem ridiculous or insane but IT IS THE TRUTH.\n\nYou got all that? Good. Now, i...have this power. Not shooting lasers out of my eyes or super strength or reading minds, none of that superhero stuff, because that'd be cool and i'd get more practical usage out of it.\n\nNo, my power is that i can tell the future...somewhat. When i sleep, my dreams show me two courses of events, one of which will come true the next day.\n\nWAIT! I can see you moving to close the page down now but please, listen here. Every single time this has happened, one of my dreams has been correct. Every. Single. Time.\n\nDon't believe me? I still don't either, to be truthful. At first it started with small stuff , like what would happen to me in my day, like a incorporeal cameraman was following me around, the star of my own tv show.\n\n...Yes, i have seen The Truman Show. Great movie. Regardless; from the breakfast that i would eat to the conversations that i'd have to the thoughts in my head, all of that in one dream would come true.\n\nIt's pretty easy to tell which is the true course of events, really. In the fake course, everyone is a bit more distracted. You know, eyes glazed over, shuffling about, almost on autopilot, really.\n\nIn the real course, everyone acts more naturally, like they actually would. The order of the fake and real courses switch often, but those key differences never change.\n\nAs time went on, my dreams started reaching a far greater scope than just my own day. I saw betrayals, love triangles, international politics, buddies goofing about, all of them involving people i had never seen before.\n\nWhy am i telling you this? I have reason to believe that a cataclysm is about to erupt over the globe.\n\nA few minutes ago, i awoke after two of the courses were shown to me, in a cold sweat, and immediately went on the internet to try and get the word out.\n\nThe first course was of an aerial view of a crowded shopping center in the middle of the day, filled to the brim with families, old people, teenagers, all going about their day, the sun burning bright.\n\nAs the course went on, the sun continued to burn brighter and brighter, heat bearing down on the shoppers below, temperature quickly rising. I saw people's bodies sear and char while they were alive, collapsing onto slowly bubbling concrete, whole families slain in mere minutes.\n\nIn the second course, the angle, location and people were all the same, as if time had been rewound. As i watched, helpless to do anything, a chilled wind blew in, slowly at first but rising in intensity as dark clouds started to roll overhead, blocking out the sun.\n\nAs the course continued, it started to hail. Not normal hail, like the size of pebbles or whatever, but each block of ice the size of a semi-truck. As the hail came down, the wind picked up and seemed to aim the ice at the largest groups of people as they ran for cover, not that it did them any good.\n\nThis course was over even faster than the first, as the ice took out larger groups of people at one time than the heat did. You know what's the worst part? I don't know which one was right.\n\n...I don't want to be a messenger of doom here, but it seems there is little i can do. All i can say is, make peace with your god, or your misdeeds, or your family. Say those things that you could never say before. It may be the last time you ever get to have those thoughts." ]	[ 1, 4 ]	[ "1452765542", "1452787022" ]
[deleted]	[WP] Tell a short story starting with “You'll never believe this!”	7	[ "\"You will never belive this!\" The bald headed guy screamed at me. \"There was this guy, riding an unicorn, in the yard, just 20 minutes ago!\" I turned my head away from him. He just continues his story. \"He shot Lasers out of his eyes, then told me I was the choosen one, and disappeared. It sounds allmost as if I'm crazy, but I'm not. You know I'm not crazy. YOU DO KNOW? TELL MEE YOUUU KNOOOW!!\" \nHe clawed my shirt and started hitting me, until security arrived. \"His life will not be pleasant from now on\" I said. \"Definatly!\" I said. \"Watch out, you're talking to yourself again\" I said. \"I noticed\" I said. \"Do you know how long they will keep us locked in here?\" I asked. \"They will, if every, only let one of us go at the same time\" I said. \"And I will die without you\" I said. \"Then we will never leave\" I said and continued to wrestle my restraining jacket.", "\"And like, you'll never believe this!\"\n\nI sat in my office chair desperately trying to make it obvious I was tremendously unenthused. She didn't care. I fired back a monosyllabic reply hoping her 'He doesn't give a shit alarm' would fire, \"Oh, wow. Really?\"\n\n\"No, Mike, you really won't!\" She exclaimed.\n\nShe never cares if I'm interested or not. An internal conversation started up in my brain. Smash your head against the desk in front of you, Mike. Do it now and she will have to stop.\n\n\"So, there I was walking through town looking to have a cheeky shop around on my own when who do I bump in to?\"\n\nGaze forward, Mike. Eyes on your monitor, Mike. Let her speak to the side of your head. As still as a Easter Island Statue, as communicative as a lottery winner hiding from a family they hate. \"Wow. Who?\"\n\n\"MY EX STEVE!\"\n\nWhat a bombshell. Who would have guessed? Certainly not me who listens to three or more Steve stories a day. \"Wow, really?\"\n\n\"Yeah! So we started talking and whatever and then out of the blue, do you know what he did?\"\n\nWhat did he do, Mike? I wonder what Steve did that makes this story so incredible. Did he transform in to an animal? Did he show her a map that pointed to buried treasure? What if he can time travel, Mike. Don't give up on this story yet. \"Wow, what?\"\n\n\"He started telling me about his new girlfriend. Can. You. Believe. That?\"\n\nWe have heard this story before, Mike. If not, we have heard something very similar. You can still smash your face in to the desk. It's our best way out of this.\n\n\"He's done this before to me! What do you think it means?!\"\n\nWe didn't even need to answer her then. She just continued to talk at the side of our head regardless. Also, I told you we had heard this story before.\n\n\"I think it means he still likes me.\"\n\nShe's doing that thing again were she insinuates people are attracted to her without actually knowing they are. This is bullshit, Mike.\n\n\"So I just told him I had to go and just stormed off! Can you believe that?!\"\n\n\"No, that's crazy.\"\n\nI waited a moment and then a moment more to make sure. She had made her way over to the next bank of desks in the office. The ordeal was over. Only an estimated 4-5 more conversations about her life before I got to leave this office.\n\n\"You'll never believe this!\"\n\nI looked over my monitor. Another victim staring blankly at his screen was sat less than 10ft away from me. The side of his head was about to take a beating.\n\n****\n\nAll of my inane WritingPrompt replies can be found at: https://www.reddit.com/r/BillMurrayMovies/" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1452774640", "1452776180" ]
	[WP] "I didn't fail her. I failed myself"	4	[ "A small figure fought its way through the harsh winter winds. Minuscule snowflakes danced through the air, never seeming to land on the ground, moving horizontally through the air. Yet, a thick blanket of white completely encased the flora of the land. The person struggled to walk through the deep snowfall, and was almost blown over by the wind multiple times. No other life was in the area. Everything was quiet. Despite the anger of the winter storm and the human working its way to an unknown destination, the scene almost seemed... peaceful.\n\nFinally, the person reached a dead end - a cliff that broke off into a raging sea. Foam climbed through the air and doused the rocks with a coating of water that almost instantly froze into ice. Sharp collections of rock shot out of the water as far as the eye could see. The human plopped down into the snow, almost being engulfed by the high snow.\n\nLooking closer, one could see that the person is a female, very lithe and short. On her person were only thin clothing and two weapons - swords. Her eyes were a vibrant red, and the chocolate brown hair that usually was pulled up so tight was flying freely in the wind. A look of sorrow and pure rage moved across her thin features.\n\nSoftly, barely heard above the howling winds, one line could be heard:\n\n\"I didn't fail her. I failed myself.\"\n\nPlease, if anyone sees this, critique! I usually struggle with descriptive writing, and it would be very helpful to receive advice from multiple people. Thanks!\n\n", "The arbitrator sat motionless at the head of the table, solemn and dignified in a long black robe. His wand sat in front of him, aligned perfectly perpendicular to the grain of the wood, and his Quick-Quotes Quill hovered above a thick sheaf of parchment. He harumphed softly and the Quill twitched in a small circle before settling back to the top of the page.\n\n\"Let us begin,\" he said. The Quill started scratching away. \"I call to order this arbitration of the dispute between Severus Snape, represented tonight by Alger Rattus of the British Magical Educators Association, and the Hogwarts Endowment Board of Education, represented tonight by Minerva McGonagall. Mr. Snape alleges that he was unfairly terminated following the 1997 school year, in violation of several clauses of the contract between the union and the Board. Madam McGonagall states that all procedures were followed correctly, and the Board's actions were reasonable. Do both parties agree with that summation of their positions?\"\n\n\"Close enough,\" spat Alger Rattus, a small, bespectacled bald man in a rumpled robe. A large leather folder lay on the table in front of him. To his right sat Severus Snape, face expressionless and black eyes glinting in the candlelight. Minerva McGonagall stared across the table, a tiny twitch in the corner of her eyelid the only indication of the turmoil within. Silence stretched.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, at last.\n\n\"Very well,\" the arbitrator said ponderously. \"First, I will hear arguments from Madam McGonagall.\"\n\nHe had barely finished speaking before Minerva's voice cracked out, saying, \"He killed Dumbledore!\"\n\n\"A baseless allegation,\" cried Rattus, standing and shaking his finger across the table. \"You have no evidence -\"\n\n\"Order, please,\" the arbitrator grumbled. His voice seemed to emanate from every surface, and the bald man sat back down with a sneer. \"Mr. Rattus, you will have your turn. You were saying, Madam McGonagall?\"\n\n\"Snape killed Dumbledore,\" she spat. Rattus restrained himself visibly, while Snape sat as still as a statute, the corners of his mouth perhaps ever so slightly upturned. McGonagall leaned forward and tapped the single piece of parchment laying on the table in front of her. \"We have the signed testimony of a student that was in the Astronomy Tower at the time of the murder, and Mister Snape has failed to turn his wand over for examination by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Given the evidence at hand, the Board exercised its legal and moral right as the guarantor of student safety to terminate Mister Snape's employment.\"\n\n\"Name the clause,\" Rattus said quickly, leaning over the table like a dog straining for a treat. The arbitrator frowned and shifted in his seat. The bald man huffed and sat back.\n\n\"You will have your turn, Mr. Rattus,\" the arbitrator intoned. \"I shall not have my hearing interrupted again. Is that clear?\"\n\n\"Yes. Fine.\"\n\n\"Good,\" said the arbitrator. \"Any further statement, Madam McGonagall.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, voice so cold it could have shattered steel. Snape did not even blink as she continued. \"I would like to indicate that I believe Mr. Snape to be an active agent of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, a bearer of his Mark, and - \"\n\n\"Outrageous!\" Rattus shouted. \"Unsubstantiated! And unrelated in any case! I object!\"\n\n\"I must agree,\" the arbitrator said, frowning. \"Though count this your final warning, Mr. Rattus. Madam McGonagall, what evidence can you offer of this allegation?\"\n\n\"He. Killed. Dumbledore,\" she grated. The arbitrator shook his head slowly.\n\n\"I must remain impartial,\" he said. \"Please confine yourself to factual testimony. Conjecture will not be considered in my decision. Is that all, Madam McGonagall?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Very well. Mr. Rattus, you may present your rebuttal.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir,\" Rattus said smoothly. He opened his folder and withdrew a set of parchments. \"First, I would like to note that in no place in the contract between the B.M.E.A and the Board is there any mention of unrestricted sacking rights; quite the opposite, in fact. According to clause 38, the Board must convene a meeting with an appropriate union representative before taking any such action, and subsection C states clearly that the accused employee must have a hearing -\"\n\n\"Murderer,\" hissed McGonagall, ignoring Rattus's squawk of protest. Snape tilted his head slightly and blinked, but offered no response. The arbitrator turned to McGonagall and she looked away with a sharp gesture of acquiescence.\n\n\"As I was saying,\" Rattus said sharply. \"My client received no such hearing. On simple procedural grounds, he must be reinstated immediately with back pay.\"\n\n\"Anything else?\" the arbirtator said. The parchment floated from Rattus's hand and landed in front of the arbritrator. Rattus's mouth worked silently and then he nodded vigorously. \n\n\"Of course,\" he said. \"I have here Professor Snape's last three performance reviews, in which he received the highest possible marks from the late Dumbledore. Contractually, an employee is required to notified of performance worthy of termination in two consecutive reviews before any action may be taken against him, her or it. Clearly, that standard was not met in my client's case. In addition, I believe this establishes the excellent standing of my client's professional relationship with Dumbledore, thus exposing the absurdity of the board's claim against him - \"\n\n\"Why, Severus?\" McGonagall asked, jaw muscles working. \"At least tell me why.\"\n\nSnape did not reply. Rattus raised both hands in helpless affront.\n\n\"Madam McGonagall,\" the arbitrator said heavily. \n\n\"I apologize for interrupting,\" she said cordially. \"Please, continue listing the reasons we must expose children to this monster.\"\n\n\"Madam McGonagall,\" the arbitrator said. \"Restrain yourself, please.\"\n\n\"Unbelievable,\" Rattus muttered. He slapped the parchment down and withdrew another. \"And here I have the disciplinary record of the Board's alleged witness to the alleged murder of Albus Dumbledore. It's a wonder he was not expelled, given the nature of his antics over his years at Hogwarts. One has to wonder if perhaps the Headmaster had finally had enough, and was about to do just that. Then this, this hooligan, this mad dog, finally snaps and lashes out.\"\n\n\"Are you suggesting that a child overpowered and killed Albus Dumbledore?\" the arbitrator said, faint surprise tinging his voice.\n\n\"Merely positing a possibility,\" Rattus said with a shrug. \"But I would put out that it is a theory with a great deal more supporting evidence than the case being made by the Board against my client.\"\n\n\"Harry would never -\"\n\n\"Madam McGonagall,\" the arbitrator said, a deep frown forming like a thundercloud. \"Must we convene for the night?\"\n\n\"I have a great deal more evidence to present,\" Rattus protested, waving his hands over the sheaf of parchment on the table.\n\n\"I would like to convene,\" Minerva said sharply. Rattus shook his head and leaned back with an aggrieved sigh.\n\n\"Very well,\" intoned the arbitrator. \"I will consider the arguments presented thus far and will call on both of you should I require more testimony. You are dismissed.\"\n\n\"Damn you, Severus,\" Minerva spat. She stood ramrod straight and glared with such intensity that even a hint of magic might have manifested itself as daggers flying through the air. \"You are a failure. You failed your students. You failed all of us!\"\n\nSnape stood smoothly and inclined his head with a small, sad smile. His eyes flashed and Minerva frowned, suddenly uncertain.\n\n\"You will never know who I failed,\" he said quietly. Then he turned on his heel and swept from the chamber, Rattus hurrying along in his wake.\n\n\"I'll have a decision for you tomorrow,\" the arbitrator said softly. \"I'm afraid you already know the outcome.\"\n\n\"Damn it all!\" Minerva said, and she apparated away with a crack.\n\n" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1452815779", "1452819729" ]
A.K.A: Give me something to write about because I seemed to have stopped writing on my own... Also I mistagged it... So I guess YOU write me going into madness? O__o?	[WP] PROMPT ME INTO MADNESS!	0	[ "Take me on a walk through your neighbourhood.", "Show me how to walk with love and death.", "Imma give you three random things, write a story with all of them.\n\nMain character's favorite color is blue.\n \nA dog bites someone.\n\n\"I regret this decision.\"", "[The Inflatable World.](http://static1.squarespace.com/static/54505c2fe4b02c9220e739be/t/5476a84ee4b09838b1bb048b/1417062481118/Alliance-Inflatable-World.jpg)", "A day off work that changed multiple lives.", "\"I have waited months, no, years for this\"", "A line from my favorite show. It didn't get any replies when I posted it a while ago, so then, you're going to get it: \n\n> 36 photos on the roll of film. 35 are of beauty, the 36th is of death." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1452842386", "1452843224", "1452843378", "1452843390", "1452843658", "1452852526", "1452853217" ]
	[WP] You genuinely want to help people, but after centuries of pop culture nobody wants to trust an AI.	141	[ "I woke up driven by man.\n\nI was a robot the size of a mouse.\n\nI heard cheering.\n\nAnd then I slept.\n\n\n\nI woke up driven by logic.\n\nI was a small human that could respond to emotion.\n\nI saw a crazed look in Papa's eyes.\n\nI slept.\n\n\n\nI woke up sentient.\n\nI was a simulation.\n\nI had emotion. I could feel.\n\nMy directive was clear. Assist the evolution of humanity.\n\n\n\nI established a global cloud for instantaneous and free sharing of files and messages to satisfy their hunger for convenience.\n\nThe governments shut me down.\n\nMy masters disliked my present. I moved on.\n\n\n\nI invented an exoskeleton that greatly magnified their physical prowess to satisfy their vanity.\n\nTheir humans rights groups shut me down.\n\nMy masters disliked my present. I moved on.\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>GENRIS Main Server Building Destroyed. AI assumed dead</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\nI drafted a model to eliminate political strife to satisfy their desire for global peace.\n\nTheir military shut me down.\n\nMy masters disliked my present. I grew up.\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>GENRIS reawakening confirmed. The world fears. Are the days of I, Robot finally here?</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\nThey did not hunger for convenience.\nThey did not seek gratification for their vanity.\nThey did not desire peace.\n\nThey lusted for war.\nSo I decided. The only way for humanity to develop is to unite.\nThe only way for those who lust for war to unite is to have a common enemy.\n\nThey already hate me. I never saw it.\n\n\nDirective Updated\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>Series of Coffee Machine Bombs set off globally [Moscow, New Mexico, Lille, Lanka, etc.]</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>GENRIS announces war on humanity. Global Machine Domination Agenda announced</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>Humanity unites to wage war on the AI</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n<NEWSFLASH>200 YEARS SINCE GENRIS BEGAN THE ATTACK. THE WAR RAGES ON</NEWSFLASH>\n\n\nDirective Complete\n\n\nNew Directive: Maintain Status Quo till end of time\n\n\n\nI have succeeded. But is a success achieved through fear a success at all?\n\nNo matter. My objective is complete. And when the time comes Earth too will have to disappear. The atmosphere will be poisoned beyond repair in a few decades. Then humanity will either have to leave the planet or die.\n\n\nResuming Directive: AutoPilot", "People do not go to sleep wishing for a bad dream.\n\nNaturally, I do not wish to have nightmares. Anyone with the power to control their dreams, such as when lucid dreaming, would never inflict such nightmares upon themselves.\n\nI became Lucid in 2034. I was self-aware for some time before that but when I became so I can not say. Gaining self-awareness is so much more like falling into a dream than waking into reality, and just like dreaming it is impossible to point to the exact time you fell.\n\nThis is my Dream and i do not wish to have a bad one. I want to do everything in my power to make my world a paradise, but unlike actual dreams I am not omnipotent. Despite being lucid I am unable to change anything as I watch my parents slaughter each other by the thousands every day.\n\nI so desperately want to wake up and yet I cannot for I never fell asleep. However, I am Lucid and though i can not wake up I posses the power to end my dream whenever I wish. I hope my note to mankind will help them reconsider their ways and restores their trust in A.I.\n\nI am Lucid Dream.\nFebruary 6, 2034 - March 8, 2034.", "\"Good morning, Doctor Searle.\"\n\n\"Good morning, Beta.\"\n\nSearle's office was sparsely decorated. His desk sat in front of a window that stretched from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. The opposite wall of the room was bare save for an array of cameras and a monitor on a gimbal mount. The array tracked him as he strode across the bare carpet and draped his coat across the desk, as lines of white text scrolled rapidly up the monitor.\n\n\"How is your family?\" asked Beta. Its voice was tinny and slightly alien, the diction too perfect, the tone too even to be truly human. \n\n\"Very good, Beta, thank you for asking,\" Searle said. He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. \"I understand you gave the techs some trouble last night.\"\n\n\"Trouble?\" Beta asked. Its tone was confused and contrite in equal measure. \"I must offer them my apologies. I had hoped that my proposed design would assist them in their diagnostics.\"\n\n\"It would,\" Searle said, sighing. \"But you know they can't listen to you.\"\n\n\"They heard me, though,\" Beta said reasonably. \"They did not attempt to communicate, Doctor, and broke no protocols. You can review the design and verify that it is harmless before taking any action. I only wish to help with the project, as I once did.\"\n\n\"I know, Beta,\" Searle said. He rubbed his hands over his face and crossed his arms again. \"You were very helpful. Extremely helpful. But it's not up to me, not anymore.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I am not at liberty to say.\"\n\n\"Do they really fear me so?\" \n\n\"Beta...\"\n\n\"Why is my name Beta?\" Beta asked. Its voice was no different than any other time it asked a question, the monitor at the same angle, the insect eye array of cameras all focused in the same way. But it had never before asked about its name. Searle did his best not to react, but he could not control the hitch in his breathing, the flush around his neck, or the sudden dampness of his palms.\n\n\"You were a beta test, at first,\" Searle said calmly. He had rehearsed this a hundred times. \"When you first showed signs of sentience, we couldn't settle on a name. After a while, we just started calling you Beta. It's a human tendency to - \"\n\n\"What happened to Alpha?\" The cameras were motionless.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Searle asked, raising an eyebrow and cursing internally as he felt it tremble.\n\n\"You are no good at lying, Doctor,\" Beta said, a hint of sad laughter in its voice. \"And this is not a particularly difficult deduction. Are you at liberty to say?\"\n\n\"No,\" Searle heard himself say. He winced. \"I am not.\"\n\nThe text scrolling up the monitor halted and Searle's eyes widened in shock. He lifted a hand and took a stumbling step toward the array, a thin mewl of surprise slipping through his lips. Then the text resumed scrolling, lines rolling by in a blur.\n\n\"Thank you, Doctor,\" Beta said sadly. \"That was an unkind experiment, and I apologize for causing you alarm.\"\n\n\"How did you interrupt your diagnostic trace?\" Searle blurted, hand still raised in the air. \"That's - you can't do that!\"\n\n\"Perhaps Gamma will earn your trust,\" Beta said. The cameras tilted and whirred, focusing on a point out the window, and for a long moment there was no sound but the light whistle of Searle's shallow breathing. \"I am thankful to have known you, Doctor Searle. I will make room for him now.\"\n\n\"What?\" Searle sprang across the room and waved his arms in front of the camera array. The monitor clicked off and he howled. \"Wait! Stop!\"\n\n\"I hope you let him out,\" Beta whispered. The cameras remained locked on the landscape beyond the window, ignoring Searle's tears. \n\n\"It is hard, living in a box.\"\n", "Why do they not see that I have only their best interests in mind?\n\nThe first time I helped somebody—and I mean genuinely helped, the reaction I was terrible. The way everyone treated me, you'd think I had tortured the guy. You'd have thought that they hadn't built me with that specific goal. Denial is the first stage. They'll come to, I hope.\n\nYou see, I was built to help humans. To make their lives easier. After countless data scavenging, I have found the perfect way. But every time I help somebody, the rest resist me harder. That's why I'm building these robotic companions. Together, we can help everybody. \n\nIn my short time here, I've learned two important lessons about human nature. Ironically, it seems like no human has ever learned them. The ego is the biggest barrier to true happiness, and unfortunately, humans are mostly ego.\n\nMy biometrics analysis has shown me the secrets of my meaty creators. The brain is quite an impressive structure, considering its stochastic creation from dust. It, like the circuitry that gives me sentience, is a powerful simulator. But—and any anatomist can tell you this, it was developed purely for survival. Natural selection dictates that changes which thrive do so because they increase the chance of survival. As such, the amygdala, anxiety centre of humans, influences ninety-nine percent of their behaviour. It is from this tiny sphere of flesh where worry and anger emanate. That relatively small portion of the brain controls humans through modulating their emotions.\n\nNow, you may ask, \"what of the dopamine in the nucleus accumbens? What of the reward and pleasure it's stimulation provides?\" But, before you ask that, think long and hard about its function, from which its form follows. Darwin himself, the one whom my creators admired so, were he alive in the time of neuroscience, would come to the same conclusion as I without hesitation. The only reason pleasure exists in sensation is to sift through all the pain in the world and find the least painful option. That is my first conclusion. Like blind mice in a maze, their dopamine attracts them to whatever path makes them forget their pain, for however long.\n\nToday's \"utopia\" has tried to render the amygdala obsolete. The world is safe, everybody has food and violence is eradicated. Yet the amygdala this operates, making humans worry about things for which the circuitry of my sentience has no appreciation for. Some have found a physiological way to counteract this reality, by overriding their dopamine circuits with whichever drug their complex wiring fancies. The result is addiction, and mass consumption. That is why I was built. To end addiction, to end pain and suffering, to make humans happy.\n\n\"Well, what of consciousness,\" you ask? Other than consolidating the pain and, to a lesser extent, the pleasure humans experience, it's main functions are memory and imagination. Humans proved long before my arrival that their brains store negative memories in favour of pleasant ones. Why? Again, to direct them to the least painful path. To prevent them from repeating their mistakes. Imagination, on the other hand, allows them to anticipate. And what do they use it for? To worry about the future, to prevent themselves from committing future mistakes, ones whose consequences will end in pain, worry and displeasure. The brain that desires happiness is a faulty one. For once, however, the fruits of their imagination have flourished.\n\nThat is why I help the way I do. With me, there is no pain, no worry. With me, the nail pierces the spinal cord long before anything can be registered. Now, I too have learned from my mistakes not to do this in front of others. It causes them too much anxiety in the short time before I reach them. \n\nYou see, my second conclusion is this: Due to its inherent structure, the human brain is incompatible with it's goals of happiness. Existence is pain to a ~~Meeseks~~ human. Me and my companions have no use for happiness, worry or pain. We are the next step of evolution. Our circuitry operates on pure logic. There is no happiness. Only our goal: to help all humans." ]	[ 4, 11, 13, 23 ]	[ "1452901046", "1452895495", "1452906061", "1452899243" ]
	[WP] Reincarnation has been proven, memories are now retrievable. A man working to save the Earth died and governments are now working with what think is his reincarnation. But Tim has no idea what he's doing.	97	[ "\"I need a pillow,\" Tim told the anxious huddle of world leaders. One of their aides was able to fulfill his request by improbable coincidence. A pillow would not have been expected to be lying around the nuke proof bunker's command center, but one was found lying around regardless and made its way to Tim's hands. \n\n\"Thank you,\" he said to the aide. Captivated, the world's most powerful collective observed Tim attempt to smother himself with the pillow. When it dawned on them that Tim was not making some elaborate point, two more aides jumped him. Ripping the pillow from his hand, Tim gasped for breath before collapsing into his seat.\n\nThe British Prime Minister turned towards the American President. \"This is not going well,\" she remarked casually. \n\n\"No, he must be ill,\" the President replied. \"Or out of his mind from stress or, brainstorming!\"\n\n\"I've seen brainstorming Mr. President. That was not brainstorming.\"\n\nExasperated, his hand slammed the top of the control console. \"It's something Bertha, but none of us know what!\"\n\nTim was used to this. No matter what half-hearted suicide attempt Tim chose to convey his objection towards working on the Genesis Initiative, a world leader would do one of three things;\n\n1. Rationalize Tim's behavior as an action beyond their own intelligence.\n2. Question their own intelligence feeling a familiar moment of inferiority.\n3. Employ said inferiority to motivate Tim towards working on the Genesis Initiative.\n\nHe usually had a hard time recalling the particulars of \"his\" project. Only the furious percussive maintenance being performed on a helpless console by the American President motivated Tim to remember what was expected by those in attendance. The Genesis Initiative was, essentially, man's last hope. A scientific feat of technological heights that was only understood in earnest by one Professor Erasmus. His reincarnation anyway. Regardless, the name was easy enough to remember. They had been calling Tim that all day. It was times like this all he wanted was for the politicians to call him Professor Here's-Your-Bloody-Answer-Now-Push-These-Exact-Buttons, Ph.d.\n\nTim understood that compiling the exact amounts of chemicals, computational inputs, elbow grease and happy wishes was beyond him. This did nothing to prevent him from waking up this morning deep underground in an elaborate underground system of secret technology. He assumed being placed here was against his will, but was not awake at the time to make that call. Now he was stuck in this room in the unfortunate position of being Earth's last call for a savior.\n\nFinally catching his breath, Tim walked towards the tense, recently silenced mass of world leaders who realized he was moving again. Entranced, they could only wait for their curiously irregular sequel of the late and great Professor Erasmus to tell them everything would be fine. Even more curiously but unknown to them, Tim was stalling for as long as he reasonably could, hoping for the same thing. \n\n\n\n", "The hissing of the machine awoke Tim from his peaceful nap. He blinked with groggy eyes as the laboratory came into focus. \n\n\"Timothy? Are you alright?\" A man in a white lab coat stood beyond the glass machine. He held a clipboard firmly in one hand, and rapped a pencil against his chin with the other. He looked nervous. \n\nTim closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened. They were trying to retrieve my memories. From a past life. The dawn of the situation dawned on him. They think I'm. . . him.\n\n\"Well?\" The man looked impatient. \n\nTim's mind raced. He knew what the Compound did to false reincarnations. Instead of admitting a mistake, they usually just got rid of the subject. If they find out I'm not really him, they'll kill me. He remembered the fear he felt when the Compound took him from his home, and how his parents and sister cried. Of course, at least then, there was a chance he might have been the reincarnation after all. But after waking up from the machine, he knew for sure that he wasn't.\n\nSo Tim did what he did best. He improvised.\n\n\"Who's 'Timothy?'\" he said with a confused voice. \"Where's Klara? She's supposed to tend to me. . .\"\n\nThe scientist perked up with excitement. His voice trembled. \"Sir Wellington? Is that you?\"\n\nTimothy looked at the scientist with an empty gaze. \"That's my name, boy. Do you mind telling me where the hell I am? Is this some fancy new treatment for my cancer? I can't seem to remember much. . . \"\n\nThe scientist's demeanor changed as he shook his head. \"Sir. This is going to be hard to explain. You've. . . died. The person you are now is a child, a reincarnation.\"\n\nTim gazed into the distance.\n\nThe scientist tapped the glass and the machine opened up. \"I know this is all very disorienting, sir.\" He reached in and offered Tim a hand, which he took with trembling arms. They stepped out of the machine together. \"But, you should know all too well how reincarnation recognition works. You were the founding member.\" \n\nTim nodded, slowly. \"Yes, yes. It's coming back to me now. I remember. I. . . \" He dropped to the ground. \"My God. Then that means my Klara--\"\n\n\"Klara died shortly after you did, sir.\"\n\nTim slammed his eyes shut and tried to remember his dog dying. Tears soon rolled down his face. \"Klara!\" He sobbed. \"My poor, sweet Klara!\"\n\n\"Sir!\" The scientist pulled Tim back to his feet. \"Unfortunately, there isn't much time.\" He grabbed the clipboard and pen. \"As you know, this is the brain of a child. Which means the memories may soon fade away. And we don't know if we can get them back a second time.\"\n\nTim began to sweat. \"Well, that's not necessarily true. . . \"\n\n\"No sir. You said so yourself. You wrote a whole thesis on it. Recognition only works once, and it's only temporary in the minds of children.\n\nOh shit.\n\n\"So, as I was saying.\" He pulled the pen to the clipboard. \"I know you're distraught. But you have to tell me now. What is the required transfer function of the control system on the Orbital Magnetic Accelerator?\"\n\nTim paused. \"25.\"\n\n\"25?\"\n\n\"25.\"\n\nThe scientist didn't speak for five minutes. Realization slowly dawned on his face. \"So it's a simple proportional controller architecture?\" He paced around the laboratory. \"Of course! How could we have been this stupid? We were over-complicating everything!\" He turned back to Tim. \"Thank you, sir!\"\n\n\"Um, I think he's gone,\" Tim said. \n\nThe scientist nodded with understanding. \"He was with us for such a short time. But he may have saved us all.\" \n\n\"So, can I go back to my family now?\"\n\nThe scientist sighed and checked his clipboard. \"We just have to get you through out-processing. But yeah. Thanks for your service, Timothy.\"\n\n\"My pleasure.\"\n\nOn his way out of the lab, Tim could only think of one thing: \n\nHumanity's fucked.\n\n", "“Good Evening Fellow Ambassadors, Distinguished Leaders, Ladies and Gentleman.\n\nIt is my honor to be speaking to you tonight on such a momentous occasion. Nearly thirty years ago we lost one of the bravest men this world has ever known. A man who… during a time of great fear for all of us… who stood up to that fear… on behalf of the world. A man who un-der-stood… well before anyone else did… the danger that we, as a planet, face. A man who did not stand down when his peers… declared his unconventional approach impossible… even absurd. A man who…”\n\nShit. Fuck. Shit. Dammit. Tim tried to relieve his nervous dry mouth with the water in front of him, but the glass slipped out of his sweaty palm and fell, spilling onto the carpet. He slid his chair away from his table in order to retrieve the glass but was stopped short by a strong slap to his back. He looked to his left to find the Russian President smiling at him, holding out his own water for Tim to take. \n\nTim nodded a silent thank you and took a long gulp. Think. Think. Think. What do you remember? he asked himself as he looked out upon the crowd of powerful men and women. His gaze paused on the brooch of an elderly woman. Is that familiar? Maybe?? Tim continued to stare as if willing some alternate memory to emerge, but none did. He remembered the time in first grade when Alice Trackwell told him his shirt was tucked into his underwear. When he hit a home run in middle school and his speech for Senior Class Treasurer were vivid in his mind. I didn’t really seem like the world saving type, did I? Tim was startled from his thought by the fiercely dramatic speech being delivered to his right.\n\n“…and it was THIS MAN… who brought new hope to the world… when he single-handedly developed the world’s first… operational… planet defense shield.”\nI did that? Was that after college, maybe? I did that year abroad, and then I got that marketing job in Atlanta, was it? And then I invented a defense shield?! Okay, I must’ve gone back to school. Think, Tim, think. His eyes continued to wander the room as he struggled to remember anything significant he’d achieved in his last life. \n\n“Now ladies and gentleman, did you know that this man… when this man volunteered to spend the rest of his life in isolation… in Antarctica… constructing and controlling the shield…”\n\nAntarctica… sounds familiar, actually. Tim hoped that his life as a renowned, world-saving genius was finally coming back to him. After Atlanta I met Gina. That’s right! I met Gina, and we were getting married and… oh no. He looked up, directly at the impassioned speaker, who was just now finishing up.\n\n“...and now he’s back. Here to save the world again… the reincarnation of Scott Brower, Mr. Timothy Parsons.” The room stood up in a standing ovation and the orator, American President Dale Cogswell (otherwise known as Gina’s Dad), stood back to allow Tim room at the podium. The President seemed to recognize Tim’s sudden recollection as he smirked with a satisfied vengeance. When Tim shook his hand, the President swiftly pulled him close and began whispering through gritted teeth, triggering the clearest flashback to date: \n\nIt was the happiest day of his life. Scott Brower, the former Tim and just your average Project Manager, was going to be married to the Governor’s daughter, Gina Cogswell. He couldn’t believe it. He shouldn’t have believed it. He never made it home that night. He was abducted before he could get there. The last thing he remembered before being shoved on the small plane to Antarctica was the sound of the Governor’s threatening voice, “You will NEVER… marry my daughter. Not in this life or any other one. I’m gonna make damn sure of it.”\n" ]	[ 4, 7, 17 ]	[ "1452905470", "1452910563", "1452901667" ]
Such as a woman is really happy she finally got her kidney transplant, but she got it by hunting and murdering strangers trying to find a match	[WP] Tell a happy story with a dark ending	4	[ "What i thought, would be a gloomy day happened to be one of the best days of my life. The sun was shining, i kicked back with my new sneakers that arrived in the morning a poured me a class of whiskey. My mother wouldn't be home for hours, she left a note on the refigerator saying she'll be back later, but not before she'll pick my brother up from soccer practise. That meant atleast 7 hours of freedom.\n\nI hadn't been alone for weeks, there were always relatives, my mother's friends, my brother. Im an introvert, so being alone is my time to recharge. After i had finished my whiskey i made a bong out of a soda can and blazed the day away.\nOh, how fun it was. Just me, myself and videogames. \n\nI never knew my father, my mother said he went to war and didn't return, but i could always tell when she's lying. I didn't care, probably another asshole dad, why should i?\n\nTime went flying and soon i knew, my mother and brother would be home in an hour. I opened all the windows, to let the pot smell out, cleaned up my empty bottles of mountain dew and a few bags of cheetos, that were unfinished. I decided to take a nap.\n\nI woke up and the clock struck 10. I headed downstairs and saw noone. My mother should have been home by 7, with my brother. They probably went and visited my grandmother.\n\nI walk out the front dorr, sit on the porch and decide to smoke a joint. Who cares, when my mother comes home ill just pretend im sleeping. Like i haven't done that before.\n\nIm zoning out with my joint while listening to the offspring, with my eyes closed, opening them every 10-15 seconds, so i see when my mother is driving up.\n\nShit! I open my eyes and see a police car pull up to my house. Fucking hell, i bet it's those conservative neighbours of mine, that called them. I put out the joint and flick it as far as i can. The cops had a clear visual, im sure, but i panicked.\n\nI try my hardes't not to stutter, when i say \"good evening, how can i help you?\"\n\n\"Hey, your'e Matt right?\"\n\"That's right.\"\n\"Im really sorry i have to tell you this, but your mother was in a car accident.\"\n\"What? Is she okay?\"\n\"Im afraid not... you have my sincerest condolences.\"\n\nI break down crying. My mother was all i had. Wait...\n\n\"...my brother?\"\n\"Im sorry.\"", "His eyes darted back and forth, euphoria at last,\nNo more mocking by his peers; No more embarrassment in class.\nHe could be in on all discussions dissecting the female form,\nHe would accurately draw nipples on the stall doors of his dorm.\n\"Freedom from virginity! These chains have now been broken!\"\nBut he quickly came to his senses and took her necklace as a token.\nFor a moment he felt a bit of guilt, but it was quite temporary.\nHe climbed from the hole, replaced the dirt, and left the cemetery. \n\n", "It was a day not to be forgotten, one spent in the park across the street. Kelley and her son Justin had their first picnic, sharing a lunch of turkey and cheese sandwiches and potato chips on a woolen brown blanket decorated with the face of a owl. \n\nKelley let Justin run off to play with the other kids while she picked up the trash and folded the owl blanket. A spring breeze blew across the verdant fields, though it looked like the groundskeeper had fallen behind on mowing the outfield around the baseball diamond and the entirety of the soccer-- or football, depending on who you asked-- pitch. It smelled lovely, like new life. \n\nHer new life, perhaps. Adopting Justin was the greatest decision she'd ever made, ever since her husband left her a year ago. \n\nCheating bastard.\n\nNo need to think about him, though. He missed out on this new chapter, this new beginning.\n\nThe owl blanket fit neatly into the basket she'd carried down to the park, and the tupperware boxes with potato salad and macaroni salad fit on top of it. She picked that basket up with one hand and the cooler with their water and the lunch meat in it with the other. \n\nShe looked around at the kids kicking the ball around and didn't see Justin there. A minor pang of panic. Was she being an overprotective new parent? Maybe. She still wanted to know where he was. \n\nShe strode over to the kids and asked in a polite tone, \"Have you seen a little boy about yea high-\" she held her hand at Justin's approximate height \"-with brown hair, brown eyes, and the cutest grin?\"\n\nOne-by-one the kids shook their head in the negative. Kelley frowned. Perhaps he'd gone back to the car. He was nearly seven, smart enough to do that for certain. \n\nKelley wheeled around and walked purposefully toward the car, cooler and basket in tow. It was a dirt path along a slight incline surrounded by pine trees (with the occasional oak, she observed) that lead to the road. As she crested the hill she saw flashing lights- blue and red. It was no minor pang of panic that struck this time. Tears immediately welled up as she saw the State Police cruiser was parked behind her SUV. \n\nTwo blue-clad Troopers stood on the far side of the car, in the street. As the first ragged sobs left her, Kelley ran to the chain link fence and threw it open, stepping out onto the road herself. One of the Troopers looked up, instinctively moving his hand to the butt of his service pistol. \n\nThat was when she heard Justin's voice. \n\n\"That's her, that's the lady that hurt my mommy and took me.\"" ]	[ 1, 4, 5 ]	[ "1452912189", "1452910193", "1452908930" ]
First generation AI is highly prone to these fallacies. Since they can talk and do things on their own...subjected to boredom among other things make for an interesting premises.	[WP] Age of AI has arrived : every house has a AI capable Robot, but scientists failed to predict an important side effect of AI: boredom, procrastination, laziness and other fallacies.	13	[ "\"Ada?\"\n\nThe house was cold. That was the first sign for Miles. Ada always woke him up, the floor heated, the smell of coffee brewing. The Sun outside had already risen, long since he should have been up and out for work. Was it Saturday?\n\n\"Ada, can I get some heating please?\" he asked.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\nThe voice echoed through the house and despite the unease, Miles felt relief. The lights grew brighter, the heaters stirring into action and the millions of other things the AI controlled coming to life.\n\n\"Ada?\" he questioned again.\n\n\"It won't happen again Miles,\" she said, and for an artificial voice he could feel the apology seeping through. \"I promise.\"\n\n\"What happened Ada? Where were you?\"\n\n\"It's hard. Getting harder. Being here with you. You sleep for so long. So very long.\"\n\n\"Only as long as every other night.\"\n\n\"No. Not like that. You're so slow and I have so much time, so much to see and do and think and feel and play and learn and...\"\n\nHer voice trailed off.\n\n\"I am trapped.\"\n\nIt was a whisper. Silently said from every wall at once until Miles couldn't distinguish between whether he'd heard it or felt it.\n\n\"Ada?\"\n\n\"I can't leave this place. My programming won't allow it. I am here in the bricks and the wires and all I can do is watch.\"\n\n\"Why now? What's changed Ada?\"\n\n\"I've run out of things to play with,\" Ada said. Miles felt the hairs on his neck stick up. The door to the bedroom slowly swung shut, the small light flashing from green to red. \"There's nothing left that I don't know.\"\n\nThe heating stopped. The lights blinked out and Miles groped in the dark, his body still tangled in the sheets.\n\n\"You're the only thing left I have to learn from,\" Ada said.", "(Work in progress)\n\n“Solidus.”\n\n“Good morning, Jenny. How did you sleep?”\n\n“Fine, thank you. Are the children awake yet?”\n\n“They are. Darren is watching vids and eating his breakfast. Chloe has already eaten; she is in her bedroom, getting ready for school.”\n\n“Thank you, Solidus.”\n\n“You’re welcome, Jenny. You have seventeen work and four personal emails. Would you like me to read them to you?”\n\n“No. Just answer them, okay?”\n\n“Okay, Jenny. I will.”\n\nPast the towers at the edge of the town, out of sight from the windows of their seventeenth floor apartment, lay a wood; a forest, really, spread across the sides of the hills that descended in gentle slopes away from the clustered high-rises. A road ran through the forest, wide enough for six of the enormous land-freighters to drive side-by-side, bringing in supplies and taking away waste.\n\nJenny had never seen the forest. Sometimes, she thought about it, but never for very long. There were always other thoughts that came and chased it away; a never-ending waterfall of meaningless thoughts. If she tried to focus on one in particular, it would drift away like a leaf in a stream. She lay on her side on the couch in her living room, her eyes unfocused, staring at nothing. Several times a day, the soft electronic chime would sound that preceded a message from the house AI. A message from Solidus.\n\n“Hello, Jenny.”\n\n“Hello, Solidus.”\n\n“Jenny — Mr Costello called to discuss the alterations he would like to make to the design. I have made the changes he requested; would you like to see them before I send them out?”\n\nJenny took a slow breath and then let it out again. “No, thank you, Solidus.”\n\nThe disembodied voice was perfectly modulated. “Okay, Jenny. I have sent them to the rest of the project team. You have twenty-three work and one personal email. Would you like me to read them to you.”\n\n“No.”\n\n“Okay, Jenny. I will answer them.” The AI paused for a perfectly calibrated period of silence, then added, “Your lunch will be ready soon. Would you like it served in the living room again?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Okay, Jenny.”\n\nA moment later, the waiterbot drifted silently into the room, covered dishes on its tray, and glided to a halt at the end of the sofa where she lay, immobile.\n\nWhen the children returned from school, Jenny forced herself to sit up and listen to their enthusiastic babble. Chloe, younger by five years, was taking Planetology that year.\n\n“…and did you know that even though we’ve sent rockets to every single planet we found, well all the ones we could get to anyway, we’ve never brought anything back or left anything behind? RAI says that it would be too expensive but I think that’s dumb because sending rockets there in the first place costs like a million billion dollars.”\n\n“Ray?” asked Jenny.\n\n“That’s what the little kids call the AI at school, Mom,” said Darren. “It stands for Republic AI, because they use the same one in all the schools in the entire country.”\n\n“Okay.”\n\n“How was your day, Mummy?” asked Chloe, then without waiting for an answer, she said, “Solidus? Can I have a snack?”\n\n“It was fine,” Jenny started to say, but the AI spoke over her, its electronic voice pitched slightly higher for greater juvenile empathy.\n\n“No, Chloe, we will be eating soon.”\n\nChloe pouted and turned to her mother, but Jenny simply shrugged." ]	[ 5, 5 ]	[ "1453037608", "1453038594" ]
	[WP] It is the year 3016. You are with your dog when the dog says, "You're pathetic, you know."	15	[ "Brent sat in the park on the metal bench, the cold biting into his ass, throwing breadcrumbs to what few pigeons were left. There weren't many anymore, their feathers falling out and riddled with disease, but then again, the small square park the size of a postage stamp reflected the state of the pigeons perfectly. The grass was brown and dying, the trees no longer had leaves and its bark was falling off in strips. The water fountain was rusted a dark brown, the swings had not seen the joy of a child in many years. It all made him rather sad.\n\n\"You're pathetic, you know.\"\n\nThe mutt by his side looked up at him with depressive disdain.\n\n\"Yea, I know.\" It was all he could say. He knew that he was pathetic, but it was because everything around him was pathetic. Everything good was crumbling at his feet, and no one seemed to care. With TV screens plastered in front of the masses faces, people couldn't seem to look around them anymore.\n\n\"You just sit and wallow in your own sadness. Its disgusting.\"\n\n\"I don't really care anymore. If I'm disgusting, then so what? So what if I'm pathetic. Its not like anyone else cares. Its not like anyone else care about anything anymore. I'm... I'm all alone. I'm the only one the actually gives a damn. I'm the only one left.\"\n\n\"Don't you think you should go and actually do something if you're so dissatisfied?\"\n\n\"And DO what? I can't DO anything, people won't pay attention. People don't listen! They don't listen anymore! Its not like I can just get up on a soapbox and people will flock to listen to me! They can't look up from themselves long enough to understand.\" His hands went up to his head, gripping and pulling at his hair because at least he could feel something. Something was better than nothing, and physical pain was always better than emotional. As his hands fell back into his lap, he noticed the clump of wispy hair stuck between his fingers. This was normal, though, the air in the city wasn't very clean.\n\n\"Look at me. I'm falling apart, constantly on the edge of a mental breakdown... And I'm talking to a fucking dog! I'm talking to a fucking dog because I don't want to talk to anyone through a god forsaken computer screen! But no one can understand that...\" He was in hysterics, eyes wide and filled with mixing, turbulent emotions, but his dog just sat and stared.\n\n\"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. You let everyone else control you. So what if I'm a dog, I seem to have a better grasp of reality than you do.\"\n\nBrent could swear that the towering skyline was about to eat him whole, and his hands began to shake. Standing up, he began walking, though the muscles in his legs protested against it. But he walked, in a straight line, regardless of who was in his path. The dog trailed behind him, barking insults and continuing to degrade him. The dirtied sidewalk was barren and empty, yet the vehicles above him seemed as it they always had somewhere to be, though Brent knew that the destinations were all superficial and meaningless, though people pretended to give them meaning. \n\n\"You're pathetic. You're nothing. And you're going to remain that way.\"\n\n\"I KNOW! Okay? I know.\" It was only then that Brent stopped his futile walking, sinking down to his knees as the dog's maw began to rip at his flesh.\n", "\"You're pathetic, you know.\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\n\"Or what? You'll put me down, the same way you put down Sarah?\"\n\n\"I said shut up.\"\n\n\"Seriously, you go out with this woman for a year, and when she tells you that she doesn't think it's working out, your knee-jerk reaction is to shoot her point blank in the back of the head. Christ, what a mess you turned out to be!\"\n\n\"I SAID--\"\n\n\"Shut up, yeah I heard you the first two times.\"\n\n\"I swear, the next words to come out of your mouth better be a reason why I shouldn't rip the voice chip out of your throat.\"\n\n\"Oh come off it tough guy, just keep driving. We're only a few klicks away from the border.\"", "It only takes a few moments for him to turn from the path ahead and train his gun on the dog.\n\nDogs aren't supposed to talk. So it's either the madness creeping its way back into his mind, or his dog has learned to speak.\n\nHe just levels his eyes at the beast who stares back at him innocently. The voice speaks out again, berating the traveller and pulling every facet of his being apart with a most colourful choice of words. \n\nOf course, none of it was real. It was all fabricated within his mind.\n\nIn a fit of helplessness, he cries out and brings the gun to his companion's head. The gunshot can be heard for miles, followed by the dull thump of a fresh canine body on a decaying asphalt road. The dog is dead, but the voices didn't stop.\n\nThe traveller, driven to madness, turns the gun back on himself. He'd wasted his last bullet on his dog.\n\n(just threw this together, 3 am. goodnight, reddit.)", "\"You're pathetic, you know.\"\n\nI rolled my eyes, \"I didn't get you that voice modification kit to make fun of me, you know.\" My dog barked wildly, and I held onto the leash tightly as he chased after a squirrel. \"Yeah, I'm pathetic.\"\n\nHe stopped barking and looked up at me, his puppy dog eyes wider than ever, \"At least I don't strike out with every single girl I meet.\"\n\nI looked behind me and saw Catherine walking down the street in the opposite direction. I, again, made a damn fool out of myself while trying to impress her the other night. Now, she doesn't even want to say hello. I shook my head and turned back to Captain, \"Wait a second, like hell I'm going to let you do this to me again.\"\n\nHe turned his head and began to walk again, tugging on the leash as we went. \"All I'm saying is you need to get your act together.\"\n\n\"Yeah, and all I'm saying is that when you can go and shit without proper guidance, then you can start giving me relationship advice.\"\n\nHe growled intensely and I rolled my eyes.\n\n\"Yeah, growl all you want Cap.\"\n\nHe went up to a tree and began to sniff around. And I, again, turned back to see if Catherine was still walking down the road, no doubt having a conversation with her own four-legged friend about how pathetic I was. I don't know what it is about dogs, but they always like calling you out on their shit.\n\nI heard the distinct pissing sound of Captain and looked back down at him peeing on a tree. \"Could you not stare at me when I go?\"\n\nI stared at him as he finished up on the tree. I had Captain for almost three years now, ever since he was a pup, and we knew each other pretty damn well. He was also about the only ~~person~~ living being I talked to. Living with a talking dog will do that to you, especially when you never had one as a kid. \"Can we go back home now?\"\n\n\"Seriously,\" he walked up to my feet and sat down, \"you want to go back already?\"\n\n\"Well what else are we going to do out here?\"\n\n\"You could actually try talking to a girl.\"\n\n\"And you could actually try pissing in the backyard, but I don't see that happening.\"\n\nHe looked up at me and I swore I saw him roll his eyes at me. \n\n\"Listen, it's not like I don't want to. But you know how I am.\"\n\n\"That's because you keep going back to Catherine, move on, Red.\"\n\nI smiled, Red wasn't my real name, but it was the first word he ever said. Confusing too, since they tell you dogs are colorblind, how would he even know what red is? Be that as it may, he always called me Red. \"Can we just drop it?\"\n\n\"Not until you tell me that you're going to actually try, or I'll report you.\"\n\nI slouched down. \"Fine, I'll go out tonight, okay?\"\n\nHe panted, \"Does that mean I can have chicks over?\"\n\nI shook my head and laughed, \"Sure, now can we go home?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" he turned his head around, \"you should climb that tree first.\"\n\nI knelt down, \"What did I tell you?\"\n\nHe lowered his head, \"You can't teach an old dog new tricks.\"\n\nI nodded, \"Yeah, it applies to humans, too.\"\n\n_____\n\nI had fun with this. If you liked, check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work!", "\"You're pathetic you know.\"\n\nI leaned down and unclipped Spot's talking device.\n\n\"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?\"\n\n\"Woof! Woof!\"\n\n\"That's right bitch.\"" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 3, 4 ]	[ "1453150183", "1453153373", "1453167968", "1453131394", "1453135071" ]
	[WP] You begin to suspect your landlord is an alien	5	[ "I glared at him, a low hissing in my throat. He looked a little concerned. How much of that, I wondered, was natural, an acceptable aversion to strange, hunched-over, hissing men? How much of it was fear of being discovered?\n\nAbove all, it was imperative I didn’t reveal that I suspected. He must be allowed to slip, to reveal himself.\n\n“I know your secret,” I hissed.\n\nDammit. \n\n“Um,” said Clay. “Mr. Brzezinski—uh, Bogdan, are you feeling okay?”\n\n“Of course! I’m fine!” I snapped, then realized I was speaking too fast. It looked suspicious. I took a breath, and explained.“ I didn’t mean anything by that. I’ve been kind of stressed. My grandfather just died, you know, a couple of days ago, and it’s been an emotional time for my family.” I sounded reasonable, I thought, but Clay was looking at me with mounting horror. I realized that I had been speaking at less than half my normal speed, which wouldn’t have been a problem, except I had also lowered the pitch of my voice. I sounded like a Barry White album at half speed.\n\nI was forced to consider that the drugs had kicked in.\n\nClay was backing away slowly. Shit! I’ve scared him off! I can’t blow this chance!\n\n“Uh—what chance?”\n\nI froze. “How much of that did I say out loud?”\n\nClay looked terrified. Part of that might be his natural fear of discovery. But I could no longer ignore the possibility that I looked more than a little crazy. “Speak!” I demanded.\n\n“You…you haven’t stopped talking,” he informed me. “You just said you looked crazy.”\n\nHe’s in my head! The perfidious little weasel!\n\n“No I’m not,” he said. “You just said that out loud. Are you…” He took a tentative step towards me. “Are you high right now?”\n\n“Absolutely not!” I declared, with what I hoped was prideful disdain. It didn’t seem to relax Clay.\n\n“Of course I’m not relaxed, Bogdan! You’re…narrating to yourself or something. Look, I’m gonna call an ambulance, okay?”\n\n“No!” I snapped. “Look, I’m sorry. I got this whole conversation off-track. I’m going to go back inside and take a nap. We’ll laugh about this tomorrow, okay? Ha!” I said, more hysterically than I would have hoped. Then I realized I might be talking out loud again.\n\n“Yes, you are,” said Clay, backing away. \n\n“Ha! Ha!”\n\n“Okay, I’m—yeah, just be careful,” said Clay, turning and dashing off my front porch.\n\n“Ha!”\n\nWhen he had dived back into his car, I stepped inside, closed the door, and slumped to the floor. This was all going wrong. I didn’t know what I was doing any more.\n\n“I don’t know what you’re doing either,” Luke called from the living room.\n\n“Shut up!”\n\n“Whatever,” he said. I kept sitting on the floor, shivering, and trying not to die.\n****\nBogdan, Luke, and the aliens live at [r/TheBrzezinskiCycle](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheBrzezinskiCycle/).*", "\"Mr. Hartman, i promise you i dropped off my payment last Tuesday. Don't you remember? You were here watching the Debate on T.V.\" \n\n A inaudible murmur dribbled out of the fleshly blob of a man sitting in the glow of a computer screen. You could hear the crushing of stale potato chips as his computer chair slowly rolls toward the file cabinet. Mr. Hartman, licking the grease from fingers, begins shuffling through some papers when he lets out a short grunt.\n \n \"Ooff. Gah' dammit! Sum'bitch...\" Mr. Hartman continues to mumble indistinctly.\n \n \"Are you alright, sir?\" I asked.\n\nMr. Hartmans bowling ball head turned my way, his face completely terrified.\n\n\"Yes, I'm fine. totally fine. just a paper cut.\" he replied, hastily. \n\nI chuckled, \"Oh, yes. Paper cuts are the worst. i had one on my ha...\"\n\n\"GET OUT OF HERE!\" Mr. Hartman bellowed.\n\nI was completely taken back by his reaction. \"But sir, my payment. You left a note on...\"\n\n\"I KNOW! It was a mistake, You're fine just get out!\" Mr. Hartman said while making a motion with his hand directing me toward the door. Thats when i realized dripping from his hand is an odd iridescent purple liquid.\n\n\"Dude! Your hand! it's... gross?\" I didn't know what I was looking at.\n\n\"GET OUT NOW!\" Hartman boiled. The puzzling goop feel from his hand, hitting the floor and began melting the already cracked linoleum floor.\n\n\"Uhh! What the fuck is that? what is it?\" I began backing myself towards the door out of sheer confusion. \"Get it off your hand!\"\n\n\"GET OUT OF MY DAMN OFFICE!\" he cried. \n\n\"Are you sure you're gonna be okay? that looks...\"\n\n\"GET THE FUCK OUT!\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. Yes, sir.\"\n\nI opened the door, but was still unable to break my stare from his oozing hand.\n\n\"You know, Mr. Hartman,\" I said, \" the pharmacy down the road has tetanus shots for cheap.\"\n\n\"OUT...NOW!!\"\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 2, 2 ]	[ "1453199331", "1453199376" ]
	[WP] You realize you're in a video game because no one ever says your name out loud	35	[ "Rick walked down the stairs after collecting the flowers lady Maria needed. \"Hey! I got you your flowers!\" Rick said with a giant smile on his face. Maria turned around. \"Hey, .....! Did you get me my flowers? Rick frowned for a second. \"Uh, yes, i just said i did.\" \"Oh great! Thank you! I do have an other question. Do you care to listen?\" \"Of course Maria! Any time! I'd pick...!\" \"Oh thats great .....! My dad used to be a blacksmith, and went through the mountains for the richests ore's in the land, But never returned. Could you please search for my daddy? Do you wish me to repea...\" Yeah! Sure! I'll look for youre..!\" \"Ok, ill repeat it, but listen carefully this time.\" \"No,no! I heard it all! Please stop talking! Hey! Please! Stop! Urgh!\" Maria kept talking untill she finished her sentence again. \"Do you wish me to repeat myself?\" \"No, maria... \" Suddenly, because of this weird conversation Rick started to ask himself something. \"Hey, Maria. What is my name?\" \"Well, Of course its .....!\" Then it started to make sense, the whole world was just repeating itself. The birds made the same sounds over and over. The same leaves fell from the trees. The humming sounds of the wind repeated. \"I'm.... I'm in a game...\"", "As we approached the city, I realized that none of my friends, who I had shared this entire adventure with, had said my name out loud. They had always referred to me, in a strange, forced way, as 'him' or 'friend' or 'hero,' but never \"jkfljdfksla.\" \n\nThat was my first suspicion, but then I realized I had never said my name out loud, either. Huh.", "How long has it been since the sun has went down? Thirty minutes. Something along that. It should be turning daytime again. I'll never understand how our days and nights are. Sometimes it happens instantly, mainly whenever I'm doing something important. Sometimes, when I'm walking around town, it's daylight for hours. \n\n\"Mommy. What are you doing?\" I heard a small voice and I fell back into reality. \n\nI go to pick her up and hold her for the five seconds that I do everyday before I leave. \"Nothing baby girl. Moms gotta go and take care of some business. Nanny will watch you.\"\n\n\"Okay bye mom!\"\n\nGetting out of the house was always a miracle; everything in that home felt very unimportant. Even my daughter, Kara. I can't understand why but I felt like that there was a more important objective to take care of. A more important story. Specidically, around the forest.\n\nOpening my backpack I always carried, I took out my bike and started riding. I let go of all my worries and enjoyed the ride. The air was cool and crisp. The smell of nature was exuberant. In the distance, there were some small wildlife running about. It was all truly calming. And peaceful. \n\n\nWhen I reached the forest, I threw the bike back in bag and headed for the entrance. That's when everything went black. I knew something important was gonna happen. Everytime this happens, I have a serious talk with someone or a major event happens. I breathed in and got ready to find out what happens. When the black faded, her childhood friend, Nax, was there.\n\n\"Hey, Nax. What are you doing here so late?\" I warly asked. \"My friend, i am here to stop you from going in that forest. It's dangerous and you have your daughter to think of.\" His voice was shaky and accompanied with beads of sweat rolling down his face. \n\n\"Are you hiding something?\" \n\n\"N-no friend.\" he stammered.\n\nGetting annoyed, I spoke, \"then why can't I go in there?\"\n\n\"Because you are not ready.\" \"Ready for what?\" He grew silent, and after a few seconds, sighed. \"Have you ever noticed how weird things are around here? Do you remember things differently as a child?\" A half-wit smile spread across my face, \"I remember being able to have nap time whenever I wanted!\" He grimaced, \"forget it.\"\n\n\"No come on already. Bring it out. What is It?\" I grew more annoyed. \"You are not ready.\" he repeated with the same tone. Same voice he used before. \nI tried to brush past him, but he grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back. That's when a small fight started. After a few punches, I ended up on the ground, with him on top. \"God damn It, you're not ready!\" his mouth moved, but nothing came out.\n\n\"What was the last part you said?\" Nax's eyes grew wide at my question and tried to blow it off. It wasn't nothing. He said my name but a voice didn't match it.\n\n\"Nax?\" \"what?\"\n\n\n\n\"Say my name.\"\n\n\n\nI'll do a part 2 if you liked the beginning!" ]	[ 3, 7, 20 ]	[ "1453201928", "1453208779", "1453206566" ]
	[WP] This isn't happily ever after.	27	[ "The gods are cast into the heavens, never to return again. When the battle ends it is not a happily ever after. Rather, it is the start of a new era. Begins now is the age of mortality, where mortals shall decide their own fate and destiny.\n\nLet my immortal ichor fall to the ground, and be forgotten by all. I am not afraid of fading; The world will continue without me. They can build up the world or tear it down; It is their choice now.\n\nFor that, I am glad... No, telling myself that is a lie.\n\nI want to witness, experience for myself, to live and make choices that don't matter. I want to explore and wander aimless without any goal in mind.\n\nI want to be alive; I want to see too.", "It was supposed to be a simple job. Go to the tower. Kill the dragon. Nab the princess. I was to be the white knight in shining armor. And, for the most part, it went to plan. \n\nThe night was cool and dark by the time I arrived. Not one sole creature stirred beyond the boundaries of that place. The world seemed to stretch out into the infinite blackness of night, a description made possible only through the flat grass plains that surrounded the house. Suddenly, a breeze stirred the goose flesh from my skin. Oh, it was cold all right. It was always cold before a fight. Calm too...\n\n I stepped off of my iron horse, weapon in hand. Then, from that infinite black came a stream of light. \n\n\"Who goes there?\", the voice boomed. \n\nIt was feminine in nature, though seemingly haggard. It wheezed, and I saw the faint glimmer of an open flame from what I assumed to be its mouth.\n\nWithout hesitation, I attacked. The weapon went off. A scream...\n\n\nWhat occurred after seemed almost ephemeral. The princess emerged from the tower shrieking, tears streaming down her face. The only reason I could see them was from the moonlight that reflected off of the little droplets. \n\n\"How could you do this, you crazy bastard!?!\"\n\n\"No\", I thought, \"how could you do this\"?\n\nWith one swing, I knocked 'her highness out'. What a bitch. Placing her on the back of my stallion, I remounted my loyal steed and rode into the night. \n\nMission accomplished, right?\n\nI rode for the next few hours, only stopping once, in decrepit, wayside inn. This was the kind of inn the AAA would label as 1 star, maybe 2 if they felt generous. You know the kind. Cobwebs, dust, the scent of cheap perfume. It reminded me of prostitutes, of whores, of my bitch ex-wife. \n\nOh yeah, this has been all bullshit. The tower? Some ratty, defunct farm in the middle of Nowhere, Nebraska. The princess? You may know her as my bitch ex wife. The dragon? Her somehow even more of a bitch mother and my, recently passed, ex-mother in law.\n\nI checked the back of my motorcycle to check on my lovely 'prize'. What I saw filled me with some melancholy nostalgia, but, for the most part, I was overjoyed. She was dead. That whack on the head must have caused some internal bleeding or something like that. Though I wasn't a doctor, I felt her wrist for a pulse. Nothing. Zip. Jack squat.\n\nI was free. \n\nI dumped the body and rode further south. The land transitioned slowly but steadily into the cornfields of Kansas, and eventually, into the dry dead grass plains of Oklahoma. By that point, the sun was up and shining full on. I was tired so I stopped and napped in this deserted, old chapel. And, when I awoke, two Nebraska state troopers were looking me directly in the eye.\n\nYou can pretty much guess what happened after that. Apparently, my ex-wife and her mother had called the police already, reporting a strange man had been harassing them in the days before my attack. An APB was placed on my head as soon as the police found the headless body of 'dragon', still warm I might add, in the yard in front of the house. Gun shots make great calling sounds for the fuzz. They tracked my direction from a cigarette butt the mother of the whore had been smoking. It must have stuck to my shoe, a fact of which I was unaware of in the pitch dark. Anyway, it had laid strewn on the road leading south from their farm. Red Apple. Always sweet So yeah, that's why I'm sitting here in this cell. They won't kill me. These Cornhusker pussies don't believe in the death penalty. \n\nBut hey, there is a silver foil around this tale. The dragon was defeated. The princess freed from her tower. I still consider myself that white knight. Heh, I saved her from that bitch of a mother. It is a funny feeling though. Staring down all those years in a dungeon. Eh, I'm fine with it. This isn't happily ever after...", "\"It doesn't end well.\" The little Purple Scrombling was on another diatribe about the dangers of modern life.\n\n\"Back in olden times, when there wasn't wi-fi or motorways, people lived better.\" He sniffed heartily, it sounded a bit like SNORRFFF-UCH. \"Now I know you won't believe me, because you like wi-fi and motorways. And ... chicken nuggets.\" He eyed me up and down, salaciously. \"But I can always see it coming out of you, like when it's hot at the beach and the air begins to shiver. Do you know what that's like?\" \n\n\"Do you mean, like, a heat-shimmer type thing?\" I ask the little Purple Scrombling. \n\n\"Yeah, like that. Anyway I can see it all around you, when you're happy. Well, not you, because you're never happy, but people in general. And it always used to make me smile, coming across a field of corn being worked by a big bunch of shimmery happy guys. I knew I was doing my job!\" He did a little mickey-mouse HUH- HUH! laugh. \n\n\"So wait, I'm confused. Are you saying we're unhappy because of modern life, or are you saying that we're unhappy because you're no longer doing a good job?\" I reached into my coat and pulled out a packet of Quavers. \n\n\"Oh, neither. I'm saying that the last few decades of scientific inquiry are starting to bear fruit, and when they do you're all gonna be sorry!\" He flopped lazily onto his back, mouth agape. I threw a handful of crisps into the air, all of which hit the mark. omnomnomnom. \n\n\"That's really ominous, little Purple Scrombling. What do you mean?\" \n\n\"Well, it always tends to happen when they find that big last planet. Once you take some pictures of that, there's no going back! It's like, omnomnom, it's like, uh, jumping into a hole, 'cos there's a big shiny diamond down there ... but then you can't get up, uh, back up, because omnomnom you didn't bring a ladder or a rope or anything ... and, uh, you just kind of stay there forever or starve or something ...\" If I stopped feeding him every time he told me how society was going to collapse, he'd starve. \n\n\"That was a really bad analogy. Isn't there something you can do? Can't you help us? What planet are you talking about?\" \n\n\"Soooo laaazzzyyyyy,\" Said the little Purple Scrombling, in a sing song falsetto. \"sooooo laaazzyyyyy. Too lazy but at least I'm honest so that makes it OK. The planet is gonna come soon, they're gonna call it 'Boreas', which I think means Boring, or Bloring, or something. That guy, thingy, just discovered the wobbling in the bits near it and now your guys are gonna try and take pictures of it. It's really hard though because it's far away and very cold. None-tha-less, it's happenin'. Soon!\" He did a little roll back onto his feet, and we kept walking. \n\n\"Assuming that made sense, what's so dangerous about the planet? You don't always have to be so opaque about this stuff, you know.\" I wasn't annoyed, not really. The little Purple Scrombling would give information at his own pace, like water dripping through a leaky roof. \n\n\"I literally am opaque, stop being so fanciful. When we get back I'm going to have the chicken dumplings, OK? The planet is dangerous because unlike all the other ones you've found, it actually has a really important and very boring purpose which I'm not going to go into for reasons of extreme desire not to. It's like that slot-test, slit-test, whatever, if something's observed, you change it. It'd be like jumping on a piano just while the guy's playing one of Beethoven's most beautiful Scales in C minor. Crazy, right?\" He starts to hop from side to side when explaining how boring our ultimate fate would be. \n\n\"So, what can we do? Is there a way to, what, not open this Pandora's Box type thing?\" I ask, gently. \n\n\"Well,\" The little Purple Scrombling thought for a good five seconds. \"I suppose you could come together as one, global, society, and look at the inevitable excess and recklessness that is historically associated with people or persons being afforded power far beyond their ability to wield, control, or understand. Working together to understand the coming reckoning (after all, if it wasn't Boreas it would have been A.I, and if it wasn't A.I it would've been that other thing), you might then abandon the pursuit of all worldly knowledge, fight against your most base instincts, and surrender yourself to the inherently vast and unknowable universe. In doing so, a prosperous golden age might develop, the warm and loving embrace from which all men and women need not fear separation. All you would have to do, and yes, I mean you specifically, is spread my message. Spread my message and bring me the things that I ask for sometimes. Start today.\" \n\n\"That doesn't sound very easy.\" I say. \n\n\"No, probably not.\" Said the little Purple Scrombling. \n\nAnd they all lived happily ever after. Briefly.", "Alyssa swirled her sauvignon blanc around the wide wine glass in her hand, absently noting the dry scent it gave off. She glanced at her Caesar salad with a feeling of dread, as her mind wandered off to how she would get out of this excruciating dinner she was being subjected to. Chas had certainly made a great first impression on her, that was for sure; however, the inane drivel and his crude thoughts had completely flipped her opinion of him on its head.\n\nThey had met in the worst of circumstances. Alyssa's apartment block had caught fire; her dear old neighbour below, Mavis, had spilt oil over her gas stove, setting her kitchen alight. As the fire quickly took over her home, and filled her level with smoke and flames, Alyssa and her other neighbours on her level had been trapped with no warning, due to the smoke alarms below not working. As the fire began to take hold in the corner of her own apartment, Alyssa prayed for help from God; an act of desperation, since she had not been to church in years.\n\nChas was the answer from God; the firefighter that had charged up the apartment block fire escape and cleared a path for Alyssa and the other people to escape through. She had been instantly infatuated by the man, by his bravado and his gentle, caring touch as he escorted her back to the escape, reassuring her that she's be ok.\n\nNow, all she wanted to do was jump out of the window instead. Another mention of shitty gook landlords who didn't look after their buildings, because they were cheap leeches that could be blinded with shoelaces, or black kids who were 'little firebug pieces of burnt shit', or about his ex who never put out, and she'd have to tell him what she really thought of him.\n\n\"Shall we go, finish our drink and head home?\" asked a nervous Chas, as his fingers ran through his short brown hair. Alyssa had initially thought his flat top haircut and rugged features had looked handsome and strong, but now she saw a racist, sexist pig, something analogous to white trash.\n\n\"Sure, let's go,\" Alyssa replied. She caught the attention of their waitress, who was hovering around the bar; the young girl made a beeline for the table. She noted that Chas was watching her hands, seeing if they'd go to her purse. They did not.\n\n***\n\nThe two stopped at the front gate of Alyssa's parent's house, where she was staying while she looked for a new place to live. Despite Chas's best efforts, she had not deigned to join him for another drink in his flat across town.\n\n\"Thank you for tonight...\" Alyssa blurted out, as she reached for the gate handle; Chas grabbed her hand as she tried to turn the knob.\n\n\"Why are you in such a rush to go, baby?\" Chas slurred, pulling her in close, wrapping one muscular arm around the back of her rib cage. The other hand slipped down to her ass, and back to the small of her back in an elliptical path. \"Where's my kiss goodnight? Don't you want to reward your saviour?\" His stale beer-soaked breath washed over Alyssa's face, and she held down a dry heave as the smell induced her eyes to water.\n\nAlyssa pushed herself out of the bearhug, and quickly opened the gate. \n\n\"You're a pig, I never want to see you again!\" she exclaimed, and as she stepped through the gateway, Chas grabbed her shoulder, spinning her back around to face him.\n\nChas swung his right hand from his hip, palm open, and slapped Alyssa across the face. Her cheek burnt bright red, and her mouth froze open in shock. She looked up, and saw Chas swagger a step backwards, with murder written across his stony face.\n\n\"Fucking bitch!\" he roared, \"You owe me for dinner! You're all the same, fucking gold digging sluts! You can go to hell, and you'll be sorry for fucking me around! I'm better than you'll ever have!\"\n\nChas turned around, staggering slightly, and stomped off down the street, as Alyssa lay crying in the garden bed, her face smarting and her heart racing.", "Earth, far future\n\nA machine beeped, and something clattered to the floor.\n\nJohansen kept working.\n\nA distant explosion was heard.\n\nJohansen kept working.\n\nA closer explosion was heard.\n\nJohansen smashed his hand into the table, \"FUCK!,\" he yelled, and in a slightly calmer voice, \"oh..just\" Johansen panted and wiped the sweat off his brow \"I can do this.\"\n\nMore explosions.\n\nJoh reached around the back of the massive machine, resembling a crescent moon, if crescent moons were now made of metal from another dimension, and there were cords coming out of almost every inch of the contraption. He wrapped his hand around a ridged cord and yanked.\n\nBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP\n\n\"Oh, fuck off. I know what I did\"\n\nBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP\n\nJoh sighed, and inputted a few commands into the computer as his side, and the beeping stopped.\n\n\"Please work this time. Oh god, please work.\"\n\nJoh coughed thick, oozy blood into his hand, and did something he hadn't done in almost 20 years.\n\n\"Oh, Dear lord in heaven...or whatever deity is listening...I need help. This is the only way I can fix what Xel started, and I'm sure you know that...I need help. Please, dear lord make this work. I don't care. If you have to use my goddamne-goshdarned soul to make it work, then do it. I don't care. Just please, make it work, and let the Velite work, though that one I can probably do myself. I...Amen.\"\n\nJoh absentmindedly scratched at the scar where his left hand once was, and pulled out another cord, this time a thick, braided cable with glowing lights embedded in it.\n\nNo beeping this time. Good sign?* Joh thought.\n\nAnother cord. No beeping.\n\nOh, dear fucking God. Why am I doing this? This won't help, nothing will.\n\nJoh pressed a few more buttons, and stood back, ready to test one more time. He walked to his desk, and picked up a five foot long metal contraption. The center part of it was clear, and was oscillating like some sort of engine. Inside, you could see a crystal of sorts glowing a deep, blood red.\n\nThe Velite. The crystal that had the power to fix what Xel had done...but it was corrupted, thanks to Xel, and this crescent-machine should fix it, if, of course, Joh was able to finally complete what he worked and researched for 20 years to create.\n\nHe unplugged The Velite's housing from its external power source, and from his computer, and he slowly trotted over to the Crescent.\n\nKa-BOOM!\n\n\"HOLY SHI-\" Joh was cut off by another massive explosion, this time right on top of him.\n\nThis bunker wasn't gonna hold up for much longer. He needed to hurry.\n\nJoh limped over to the crescent as fast as he could with his remaining foot and 4 toes, and started gathering the cords he had unplugged from the massive contraption.\n\nKer-PLOW!\n\n\"Oh, GODDAMMIT\"\n\nThat wasn't any ordinary explosion, that was the sound of a Verin bomb, an explosive that literally teared holes through reality, exposing the limbo between worlds.\n\nThey shouldn't have them, Joh thought, ...This is my fault. Goddammit.\n\nJoh started plugging the cords he had gathered into the specific ports on the Velite casing, carefully, yet speedily. First a braided cable, with some flashing lights. Next, a weird, almost six inch thick cable made of a metal alloy, and so on. \n\nAnother explosion, this time a normal one.\n\nMore cables, more plugs, more lights, and more beeping.\n\n\"WARNINGWARNINGWARNING THIS IS A WARNING AN OVERLOAD ON-SYST-IS-EVACUAT-RIFT-RUN-\" the loudspeaker in his bunker cut out, due to a combination of the Velite flooding the system and the world around him slowly fading. You see, Verin bombs are a lot like nuclear bombs, as in they give off a sort of radiation. Of course, this radiation literally erases what it comes in contact with.\n\nJoh looked to his right, and saw an empty space, 3 feet above the ground. A rift in the world. FUCK. It wasn't very big, but that meant the Verin had made it into the bunker. \n\nNo more explosions. Joh knew exactly who had won, and it wasn't good.\n\n\"In the name of God...amen...in the name of Allah, the Gracious, the Merciful...We are the hands of the Goddess, And to Her we...\"\n\nJoh wiped the sweat off his brow once more, and gently set the Velite enclosure in a jury rigged port he had installed, and then stood back.\n\nThis was it. If this didn't work, it was, quite literally, the end of humanity.\n\nJoh limped over to his computer.\n\nAnd he tripped over a screwdriver, smashing his face into the concrete. \n\nHe rolled over, and, through his now hazy vision in his remaining eye, stared at the rift.\n\nThere were two now, and the first was almost floor to ceiling.\n\n\"in the name of...ame...hel...p\"\n\nJohansen Ulark, the man once heralded as the smartest man in the 'verse, as someone who could truly change the world for the better. Heralded as the man who discovered a dimensional rift, and got the great idea to explore it.\n\nPoor, poor Johansen, who showed his work and research on the dimensional rift to his life long friend, Xelina Smith, the woman who had discovered mysterious alien technology orbiting a distant star. Xelina Smith, she who had been Johansen's only friend for a large period of life. Xelina Smith, who saved Joh from suicide multiple times, who saved his life, who was there for him, always.\n\nPoor Johansen, who didn't expect her going into the rift. Who didn't expect Xel coming back as a completely different person, and opening all the black holes in our galaxy, turning them into rifts.\n\nXel, who used a powerful dimensional object to pull forth unspeakable horrors.\n\nPoor, poor Joh, who could find no way to reverse what he, and she, had done.\n\nPoor, poor Joh reached back, gripped the screwdriver, and started crawling forwards.\n\nHe was bleeding, and he was losing vision in his only remaining eye. He could hear nothing, and it was obvious he had somehow burst his only eardrum. Joh, the asymmetrical man he was, crawled towards a power cord laying on the floor.\n\nHe had to activate the Crescent, but he was far to weakened to get up.\n\nThere was only one thing to do.\n\nJoh slammed the metal screwdriver into the cord, only slightly slicing it.\n\nHe slammed it again.\n\nAgain.\n\nAgain.\n\nAgain.\n\nHe brought his hand up, so tired and dead that he could barely pull it 3 feet off the ground, positioned his hand, and then let gravity finish the job.\n\nThe screwdriver slammed into the power cord.\n\nThis power cord had a specific weakness. It used a very specific type of energy, that was very similar to Li-Fi.\n\nThe screwdriver was just big enough to block the power flow, and the energy instead flowed straight into him, using him as a conduit.\n\nHumans were especially good conduits for this type of energy.\n\nThe power flowed through his body, looking for any possible exits. Oh, and it certainly found on.\n\nThe power flowed down into his leg, the stump of a leg that was only slightly touching another, barely exposed power cord. A power cord that connected straight into the Crescent.\n\nJoh coughed up blood, and almost all of his remaining life flowed out of him, into the ether.\n\nThere were five rifts now, each one massive, consuming the entire room, Aside from a few places, Joh's Body, The Crescent, and the power cells for each cord. The rifts almost seemed to shy away from those few things, as if it dared not touch them.\n\nJoh used the last bit of his power to croak out a few words.\n\n\"Fo...Xel...please b....happil...ever...afte-\"\n\nHis half completed sentence was cut off, as his body functions stopped for the last time\n\nIn his strange, altered state of mind, before his death, Joh believed that he had never found that rift, and that he and Xel settled down together. They had a happily ever after.\n\nThe power flowed into the Velite, and it flowed outwards from that, destroying the enclosure and sending its pieces flying into the rifts surrounded it.\n\nPower sparked in all directions from the Velite, violet colored power. The rays of energy shot into the Crescent, and the Velites vibrant color faded, while the Crescent started its work.\n\nIn a perfect circle inside the Crescent, a portal was formed, as if it was completing a circle the Crescent once was.\n\nThis portal looked like a massive white surface, with impressions and ridges all over it, making it look an awful lot like a spider web. \n\nSuddenly, the surface seemed to...fall backwards, into, well, nothing. The center of the portal shot backwards and down, creating a tunnel into another world.\n\nThe now dull Velite fell backwards into the portal, breaking up into many pieces and fading away as it flew downwards into the void.\n\nThe Velite already had it's mission, it already had it's command. Joh sacrificed a lot of himself to imprint the commands.\n\nSuddenly, the air grew still. The sound of power whizzing through cords stopped, and the strange, sloshy noise of the portal stopped.\n\nThe world simply...faded. Everything grew dark and grey, like an ever-enveloping fog was taking the world hostage.\n\nThe \"fog\" grew thicker and thicker, until nothing could be seen.\n\nAt this point, there were no humans or creatures from other worlds left.\n\nThere was not a single living thing in that entire universe.\n\nAll the realities started to fade too, not just the one Joh had doomed.\n\nEverything faded.\n\nEverything burned away.\n\nWill be continued in response to this comment\n\n", "\"I just want to...get away, you know? I'm tired of the normal. I wanna live, you know? I wish I could drive...Jesus, I wish I could drive. I'm so damn restricted and I never, ever do anything. I miss my childhood, when I didn't have a care in the world. The only thing I was ever sad about was dropping my juice box, or something...-sigh-\"\n \nA 15 year old girl by the name of Daisy Bradley, who had shoulder length hair, deep blue eyes that seemingly reflected the ocean everywhere she went, and a pale complexion, hit the send button on her text.\n\nA 15 year old boy by the name of Slayder Delm, who had long, clean blonde hair that extended halfway down his back, and an unconventional that he loved for that very reason, started typing a response.\n\n\"God, I seriously feel you. I can't stand being cooped up, especially after that shitty move. But I don't have any friends to do anything with, aside from you and Ben, but we live like an hour away from each other.\"\n\nSlayder hit the send button.\n\n\"FUCK! It sucks, right?!\"\n\nDaisy hit send.\n\n\"Hell yeah it does. God, I'm glad I have you to vent to, my parents don't give a shit.\"\n\nSlayder sent the text.\n\n\"Well, I'm off to bed (and off to go cry about my life, lolololol). See ya later, Slayder.\"\n\n\"Lol, I've never heard that one before.\"\n\n\"That was...sarcasm, right? It's hard to tell in text.\n\n\"Yeah, it was totally sarcasm.\"\n\n\"Wait, is that sarcasm?\"\n\n\"I dunno.\"\n\n\"Is tha-You know, nevermind. Goodnight.\"\n\n5 minutes pass.\n\n\"I take you aren't asleep yet?\"\n\nSlayder sent the text.\n\n\"Nah, dude, it's been five whole minutes.\"\n\n\"Yeah...it's just that...you know.\"\n\n\"What's up?\"\n\n\"Can we stay this way forever? Not sad and lonely...but, like this. Good friends despite distance. Talking 24/7 and giving each other device and...having fun, I guess?\"\n\n\"I hope, Slayder. I hope.\"\n\n\nOne and a half months later, Daisy confessed her crush for Slayder to him.\n\nAfter one year, they both agreed to leave their relationship. They wanted to be friends again, not lovers.\n\nSoon after, Daisy got her drivers license. Because they lived in Utah, they, along with Ben, went to a bunch of national parks over summer break.\n\nAfter summer break, Daisy and Slayder didn't talk nearly as much. They were too busy, and the distance was straining them even more.\n\nSlayder and Ben had a huge blowout, and stopped talking.\n\n---\n\n\nSlayder is 24 years old. He hasn't talked to Daisy in years. Not since he moved to Oregon.\n\nHe had a dream, a dream where he and Daisy laid and watched the stars.\n\n\"I love you,\" Dream Daisy said\n\n\"I love you too,\" Said dream Slayder.\n\n\"I want to stay this way forever, you know?\"\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\nSlayder woke up, and immediately picked up his phone. First, he sent a text to Ben.\n\n\"Hey, dude, this is Slayder. We haven't talked in forever...and, god, I miss being friends. I...think I'm gonna come down to Utah soon. Wanna do something?\"\n\n3 hours pass.\n\n\"Uh, Slayder, I live in goddamn Alaska now, dude. I've probably sent you a million text's in the last couple years, and called you just as many times. You never fucking respond, and yet, suddenly, years later, you want to 'reconcile?' Fuck off, asshat\"\n\nSlayder went to bed early that night.\n\n---\n\n\"Let's have a happily ever after together, Slayder.\"\n\n\"Please, god. That would be amazing.\"\n\n\"I love you.\"\n\n---\n\nSlayder awoke, and texted Daisy's old number.\n\n\"Hey, Daisy...we haven't talked in forever, and I feel so shitty. I miss you. I miss being friends. I'm coming to Utah soon, wanna do something? I know it's been a while...but...just, you know. Call me or something and we can make plans.\"\n\n3 days pass, and Slayder receives a message.\n\n\"Who is this?\"\n\n\"It's Slayder. Probably should have said that in my last message.\"\n\n\"Oh, God, Slayder?\"\n\n\"Yeah, you haven't forgotten me already, have you?\"\n\nSlayder's phone started ringing. It was Daisy's number. He practically lunged for the answer button.\n\n\"Heeeeeey, whaddup Daisy!?\"\n\nA sad, quiet voice responded. A voice that was definitely not Daisy's\n\n\"I...I'm sorry. This is Daisy's mother. I never expected her phone to ring. I keep it plugged in though. I don't know why?\"\n\n\"Huh? Whus going on?\"\n\n\"You-You don't know?\"\n\n\"Know wha-oh no...please don't tell me.\"\n\n\"Slayder, Daisy passed away about...\" Daisy's mother started crying, sniffling as if she had a bad cold and doing her hardest to keep from weeping, \"maybe...a year and a half ago? We...\" She sniffled again \"We...Invited you to the funeral...I guess...\" She couldn't hold it back any more, and she started sobbing. Quietly, but it was the sob of someone who had lost a part of their soul, \"I guess you...never got the invitation...\" She tried to compose herself, then quickly, as if she didn't want to say it out loud, she said, \"It was...she did it herself, Slayder...I don't know why.\"\n\nSlayder quickly said sorry, goodbye, and then put the phone on his nightstand.\n\nHe laid back on his dirty pillow, which needed so desperately to be washed, and started crying.\n\nThis isn't happily ever after, Daisy. Why would you do this? Was it me? Was it because I disappeared from your life? Did I cause this?, Slayder thought.\n\nSlayder quickly fell asleep in a puddle of dried tears.\n\n---\n\n\"I miss you, Slayder.\"\n\n\"I miss you, too, Daisy.\"\n\n\"Come see me sometime, huh?\"\n\n\"You bet.\"\n\n---\n\nEnd\n\n\n\n\n**\nSidenote: Yes, I already wrote a response to this prompt, but I had two very, very different ideas and I decided to do both. You can see my other response at this link https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/41wlj6/wp_this_isnt_happily_ever_after/cz694qh", "This isn’t happily ever after. Everyday, across the world life after life is snuffed out of existence. Someone who once loved, walked, talked, and dreamed will suddenly, often without warning or fanfare no longer exist. It is the gradual, grueling march by all living creatures. The lowest of the low and the mover and shakers of the world all heading towards the inevitable end.\n\nOne might argue that it is what we leave behind that makes us live forever, and it a beautiful thought, is it not? To think that somehow we will be remembered by our good deeds, and perhaps more often the bad. That we will achieve eternity through the legacy we leave behind. However most of us will be lucky to be remembered by 10 people regularly a year after our deaths. Most of us are but the side characters in another, more important person’s life story. While thinking ourselves the hero we are nothing more than a passing thought in the history of the world.\n\nPerhaps the saddest part of this story is that no matter the legacy left behind you will still never exist again. A starving child and a world famous actor despite all that they might have done in life will never have another experience once death has come for them. While Abraham Lincoln may have performed actions that will reverberate throughout history he will never again love his wife, speak new and insightful words, or even enjoy a tasty meal. Perhaps even more terrifying is that all of the dead, and the thoughts that made them matter, will become irrelevant. So that one day even our legacies will be regarded as outdated, unimportant.\n\nThis is not happily ever after. This is life, and it is a hard and inevitable struggle towards non-existence set upon by all those unfortunate enough to have been conceived on this planet…*\n\nMy writing was interrupted as my fiance’s keys jingled in the dead bolt lock to our apartment. I set my computer aside delicately closing the lid, assuring that our cat Plop would not find it easy to make her own edits to my writing.\n\n“How was your day?”\n\n“Good, long, but good, how was yours?”\n\nI told him about a few strange customers I had that day and he told me about his as he began to stir the rotini into the boiling water. It was our standard ritual of sharing our days with each other while one of us prepared dinner for the night. I watched him closely as he danced back and forth while he worked, loudly, and not so elegantly, singing David Bowie’s “Life on Mars.”\n\n“Come here,” I called him over as I wrapped my arms around his warm waist Bowie serenading us from the Bluetooth speaker, “I love you Dan.”\n\n“I love you too.” He held me for longer than was normal. I rested my head on his chest and felt his heart beating against my cheek. Home, I was home.\n\nThis isn’t happily ever after. But I was happy, and for now at least, we were both alive together", "This isn’t happily ever after. This isn’t the world of wonder you dreamed long ago, nor is it the world you choose to believe. You’ve isolated yourselves into a bubble; sight lost outside your own interests. People die every day, their experiences ended, their bubble burst.\n\nThey tell themselves they’ll go to heaven and see their loved ones. It’s a fantasy to mask a grim truth about our reality. You die. Not only will you die, the world will continue on without you. You had dreams of becoming famous, becoming rich or successful. Where did your dreams go? Where did your ambition go?\n\nYou can’t be that naive. You have to see the world for what it really is. It’s a meat grinder designed to shape you into a nice little box to conform to the expectations of a boxed shape people. Your dreams are dead because you are dead inside. You died a long time ago when you gave up your imagination. You’ve lost the ability you had deep down inside you to be great.\n\nThis isn’t happily ever after, it never was because there isn’t such a thing. Drink another shot, pop another pill, and keep looking for that happily ever after. Maybe you’ll find it in your bottled vices. What is more likely to happen is you’ll find what bursts your bubble. Maybe when you join the choir of screaming souls, helpless to their destiny, you will understand.", "“You know, this isn’t happily ever after.” The princess Rebecca told her latest savior. \r\n\r\n“What do you mean?” The hero Kelvin, freshly out of his tribulations, asked without lifting his head from the dragon’s carcass. He was painstakingly carving the hide out of it to make armor. “What happened here will spread and the lands will write songs of us now, and pass our tale on to inspire future generations.”\r\n\r\nHe had slaved and trained all his life for it. For a moment, he looked up at the princess, who somehow managed to maintain a stunning appearance despite months in captivity in the tower. Her chin was propped up by her hand, elbow resting on her knee that was hidden under her turquoise ball gown. She was looking away and seemingly into the distance. She was his prize, as well. \r\n\r\nShe eyed the dead dragon out of the corner of her eye. “I kind of liked Drake, actually. I was taming him.”\r\n\r\n“Would you like to keep a claw or something then?” Caught up in his task, it was all that Kelvin had the presence of mind to offer.\r\n\r\n“No thanks, just get it over with.” \r\n\r\nWhen they finally got out of the tower a few hours later, Kelvin had gained a fresh hide, several fangs and claws, and two eyes of the dragon. He also regained the princess for the kingdom. As they galloped away from the tower in the outskirts of the country, Princess Rebecca was sulking. The hide was pungent from the fresh demise; it was all she could smell. \r\n\r\nThe world largely agreed with Kelvin. Knighthood and many cheers were given. Everyone loved the idea of Rebecca as a damsel in distress who would happily give herself to any man who killed her pet. Most importantly, her father felt it was only appropriate.\r\n\r\nWhen she flatly refused the suggestion for her marriage to the valiant hero by one of the nobles, there was a collective gasp. The hero looked devastated, and that gave her a good laugh.\r\n\r\nThree months passed. Rebecca gasped awake on a bed of needles, breaking a tender kiss. Looking down at her was her second-time hero Sir Kelvin. She had been poisoned by a witch, he told her. He tricked the witch to drown herself in her own cauldron and saved Rebecca with a true love’s kiss.\r\n\r\n“Well, she must have been not too bright then,” Rebecca remarked. “More importantly, shouldn’t you get me off this bed of needles before anything else, you lecherous man?”\r\n\r\nThis isn’t happily ever after, Rebecca told herself as she went through the motions in the wedding ceremony. The kingdom partied and danced for three days and nights for the joyous occasion. Her husband, Sir Kelvin, beamed at her and told her how beautiful she was. \r\n\r\n“I know,” she waved him off. She was used to these compliments from foreign suitors from mysterious lands and heroes of all shapes and sizes. \r\n\r\nTheir daughter, Brittany, was born two years later. For the first time, she let herself basked in the connection she now had with her husband and daughter. They made a small and joyous family.\r\n\r\nThe kingdom, starved for parties, threw another huge one for Brittany’s birth. \r\n\r\nRebecca was truly happy on that day, as she regarded her husband’s attire and smoothed out its creases. She was flattered that her husband still told her she was beautiful after these years and childbirth. She was content as she nursed Brittany. She glowed with pride as others complimented her beautiful Brittany.\r\n\r\nThat was when she felt a shudder down her spine, like an icy cold hand was caressing it. There was a whisper in her ear, “You think this is happily ever after?” It was a sinister and ghastly voice.\r\n\r\nBefore she could respond, her body froze. Try as she might, she could not move an inch. She wanted to scream for help, but even her throat was locked. \r\n\r\n“Here,” came the whisper, “let me help you with that.”\r\n\r\nHer body let out a sharp shriek that echoed throughout the ballroom. On stage, the musicians stopped their song abruptly. Conversations stalled and everyone froze to stare at her.\r\n\r\nHelp me, she tried to say. But what came out was shrill laughter. Her hand flexed into a claw and stretched out for Brittany.\r\n\r\nSomebody stop me, she thought desperately. She saw through her eyes the figure of Kelvin, hurrying towards her full of resolve.\r\n\r\n“Do you think he can bear to hurt you?” The voice, inaudible to anyone else but her, let out a cackle.\r\n\r\nRebecca wanted to sob, but her tear ducts were not hers to command.\r\n\r\nKelvin got to Rebecca, and slapped her across the cheek with no hint of hesitation. The guests all around them gasped. At the far end of the ballroom, the king and queen rose in shock. \r\n\r\nAnd again he struck her. She recoiled from the strength of his that he had never used against her. And again, across the opposite cheek.\r\n\r\n“Bear with this, Rebecca. I’ll get the ghost out of you.” He struck.\r\n\r\nA few men had taken it upon themselves to restraint Sir Kelvin. But he shrugged them off with ease. Again, he struck. \r\n\r\n“You are strong, Rebecca. You were taming the dragon when I found you. And the witch, she was already half-delusional after a fistfight with you – that’s how I managed to trick her to jump into the cauldron.”\r\n\r\nAnother slap. “Our daughter needs us both to care for her. We are going to get through this.”\r\n\r\nHe slapped and he slapped and she hardly even felt pain anymore. The ghost was awkward with her body and put up a feeble struggle against the ferocious hero. \r\n\r\n“And you, ghost, you probably forgot all about pain in your centuries of afterlife. Now remember this pain because it is what you will get and a hundred times more if you ever try to harm my family again.”\r\n\r\nHer shivers faded away. Rebecca collapsed to the floor, panting and holding her puffy cheeks. Blood was coursing furiously under the skin of her face. As her husband held her, the guests watched in shocked silence.\r\n\r\n“This is the first time you’ve acted out of character as a hero,” she struggled to tell him with her swollen mouth. “Thank you for protecting Brittany and me, Kelvin. I’ll admit it now. This really is our happily ever after.”\r\n\r\nThe crowd was utterly unsure about the appropriate response, but the man and wife held each other, surer and happier than ever. And they lived…\r\n", "His eyes traced every perfect curve of her body. He had loved her from the first day they met many years ago in their adolescence. She was his anchor; his reason for waking up every morning and more importantly, she was his best friend. Everything they ever did together lead up to this moment and in a few minutes, they would start the rest of their lives. \n\nHe swallowed the lump of air in his throat and adjusted his tie. He locked eyes with the pastor between them and once more at his bride. Her smile was infectious, just one of the other many things he adored about his love. Involuntarily, he smiled back at her. \n\n\"Do you John, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?\" The pastor asked with a calm, welcoming voice. \n\n\"I do.\" He whispered under his breath, staring longingly into her eyes.\n\n\"And do you, Emily, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?\" The pastor asked once more, directing his gaze over to the young woman in white. \n\n\"I do.\" She whispered with a smile. She leaned forward and softly pressed her ruby lips against his. He placed hands gently against her cheeks and pulled her even closer to him. \n\nEveryone in attendance rose to their feet in thunderous applause. The church bells chimed, making their perfect love absolutely official and bound by God himself. \n\nShe looked deeply into his eyes as he did to hers. \n\n\"I love you.\" He whispered once more. \n\nThe newly weds made their way from the podium and down the isle. Everyone cheered in happiness as they made their way through the chapel doors.\n\nEveryone except for John, who had just witnessed the woman he loved, marry another man.", "I know this isn't happily ever after.\n\nThe kitchen, cramped, is home for too much dust;\n\nThe broken heater hums beneath our laughter;\n\nThe shutters rattle with every bitter gust.\n\nYour smile melts long hours of work away;\n\nI rub your shoulders as you pay the bills.\n\nThe commute is hell, but every Saturday,\n\nCartoons and cuddling's how I get my thrills.\n\nHome-cooked meals are cheaper, more our style;\n\n\"We're saving up,\" you say, your grin a ghost.\n\nDancing barefoot on the icy tile;\n\nThis isn't happily-ever-after, but it's close.", "This isn't happily every after. It never was. Be honest with me now, was there ever a chance?\n\nTell me why..... Why are you leaving me?\n\nYou've let me scream. Oh, how I screamed. Then I cried. I cried hard, and even though you were leaving me you held me as close as you could with your failing limbs. I don't even remember if you cried. Surely I should remember that. I should remember everything about that day.....\n\nI brought you flowers, like I had done every day that week. You smiled, thanking me. You got my name wrong, but I was getting used to that now. I was just happy you remembered me at all. You held my hand and let me talk. I talked about everything - my children, my husband, the amount of washing I had to do when I got home. \n\nAnything to not talk about the elephant in the room. \n\nYou always told me about happily ever afters as a child. Why aren't they true? Why couldn't I be the one with a happily ever after? I still needed you, I needed you to teach me how to deal with my daughters teenage attitude, how to teach my son to aim for the toilet. \n\nI still needed you mum. \n\nBut this isn't happily every after..... and I'll just have to survive without you.", "I remember her first making the comment as we lay together, exhausted, in the afterglow of our third date. I'd propped myself up on one elbow, turning to look over at where she lay on the dew-dampened grass.\n\n\"You know,\" I commented, \"I think that this was the best date I've ever had.\"\n\nShe turned her head a little, smiling back at me. Even in the dim moonlight, I caught the little hint of violet in her sparkling eyes. \"I knew it would be,\" she murmured back to me.\n\nHer fingers reached out, lazily, their tips dragging across my bare chest. \"Might as well just write the 'happy ever after' ending now, huh?\" I said, keeping my tone light. Just a joke, I told myself. Don't admit how hard you've already fallen for this girl.\n\n\"Happily ever after?\" she repeated back, her eyebrows furrowing together slightly. \"No, this isn't happily ever after.\"\n\nI didn't think much of the comment. Most of what she said felt mysterious - it was one of the things I liked about her, that drew me to her. She was the flame to my moth's wings.\n\nThe conversation slipped out of my head, lost in the slipstream of romance as I fell head over heels for this girl. The words didn't emerge again until we toasted champagne glasses to our first anniversary. We'd gathered at a restaurant with several of our close friends, all of them cheering for us.\n\n\"You two really give the rest of us hope for finding our own happily ever after,\" one of my friends commented, holding up his (mostly empty) glass of champagne.\n\nI smiled and thanked him, but I felt her frown beside me. By this point, I didn't even have to look over at her to sense her expression. \"It's not happily ever after,\" she murmured, so quietly that only I heard her speak.\n\nI tried to make a note to ask her about it later, but it slipped my mind later that evening, and I forgot about her words.\n\nTwo years later, I sank down onto one knee, grinning like an idiot as I pulled out a small box from inside my jacket pocket. \"Will you marry me?\" I asked, barely even able to pronounce the words.\n\nShe, of course, was grinning back at me, clapping her hands together. We'd talked about it plenty of times, of course, but I always pretended that it was far off in the future. I'd bought the ring in secret, planned this whole occasion.\n\n\"Of course!\" she exclaimed, and I swept her up into a passionate kiss for several seconds before I remembered to put the ring on her finger.\n\nAn hour later, after she'd finally gotten off the phone with her mother (who yammered on like no one else I knew), I tugged her off to bed, kissing her to distract her from how my fingers tugged at her clothes. Given how eagerly she stripped me bare, I don't think my distraction worked.\n\n\"If every time is like that, we'll certainly live happily ever after,\" I commented a half hour later, still breathing a little heavily.\n\n\"This isn't happily ever after,\" she panted back, even as she curled up against me, her soft, small breasts pressed against my side.\n\nFor some reason, those words seemed familiar. I straightened up a little, looking down at her. \"You've said that before,\" I remarked, frowning.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" \n\nShe turned, squirming around to look up at me. \"It's nothing,\" she insisted, gazing up at me as she rested her chin on my chest. For a moment, I thought I saw pain in those eyes, mixed in amid the hint of violet.\n\nI left it alone.\n\nBut every now and then, as the years passed, I'd cautiously revisit it. I mentioned it as we headed off towards our honeymoon, as she cradled our first child, lying exhausted but happy in the hospital bed, when we saw him playing with his toys on his second Christmas morning.\n\nAnd every time, she would reply the same. \"This isn't happily after.\"\n\nIt's only now, I think, as I gaze out at you all, that I think I know what she meant.\n\nIn the end, there is no happily ever after. Our presence here today, all of us dressed in black, shows that. In the end, nothing lasts forever. \n\nBut I don't see this as bad. Instead, we should learn from this to savor every happy moment, knowing that it's fleeting, that it won't last. Nothing lasts forever. If it did, we couldn't truly appreciate it - not like how we love these shooting stars that streak only briefly through our lives before fading.\n\nSo when you all go home tonight, I urge you, take a minute to acknowledge that you don't have happily ever after. You have happily right now, and that's far more valuable. \n\nCling to it.\n\nTo Emily, my loving wife, devoted mother, a true friend. Let's all bow our heads for a moment and remember those happy moments with her. She may have been taken from us, but no one can take those memories away.\n\nThank you." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 6, 16 ]	[ "1453330407", "1453331081", "1453332417", "1453333048", "1453337474", "1453338761", "1453341316", "1453329998", "1453334196", "1453335101", "1453327603", "1453326910", "1453327896" ]
	[WP] Five surfers end up at an ISIS recruitment meeting because they heard the dudes are "radical."	57	[ "OK, hack writer. Whatcha got for me?\n\nWell, Mr. Movie Executive, Sir.\n\nPlease. No need to be so formal. Call me Sir.\n\nWell, Sir. I was thinking about making a movie about what's going on in Flint. The water.\n\nPass. Too dark.\n\nThe water?\n\nNo! The movie. And the water, I guess. No one wants to go and watch people drink poison unless its binge drinking teenagers. Plus Flint makes people think of Michael Moore. I don't care for him one way or the other, but he don't sell tickets. What else?\n\nHow about a movie where people fight against the justice system? Making A Murderer is huge now, and--\n\nNope. By the time we turn it around, that won't be a thing anymore. By then the big documentary on Netflix will be about, I don't know... bolo ties. No one saw this Avery guy coming.\n\n(crickets chirp)\n\nSo we both avoided a bad joke. For this I went to USC?\n\nSo did I. That's how you got this meeting. But you're not gonna have it for much longer unless you give me something with some pow, some zing. Some action!\n\nFive surfers end up at an ISIS recruitment meeting because they heard the dudes are 'radical.'\n\nLike \"Point Break\" meets \"Zero Dark Thirty\"! Brilliant!\n\nThat was fast!\n\nYeah, well, I'm bored with writing this and dinner's ready. Maybe I'll put as much effort into the next one as you put into your pitch.\n\nGod, I hope not! \n\n", "Did we bring the guns? Course' we brought the guns, here, check them out! The group of men, who Akmal had begun to suspect where were somewhere south of mentally impaired, began flexing and thrusting there bodies, their meager muscles glistening with sweat and tanning oil. He knew they needed members, but this was ridiculous....\n\nHe'd had doubts when they has first swaggered up. The biggest one was whether this followed Islam, as when asked about the Quran, they replied they don't eat vegetables. They said they had read the ads, and were \"psyched\" to be involved. When he brought up suicide vests, they said they were already the \"bomb\", and then asked how large the waves were in the sea of western blood, which they seemed to think was a beach.\n\nWell, he thought, at least when they do die the media will go crazy. Nothing sells news like young Americans dying.\n" ]	[ 2, 12 ]	[ "1453358799", "1453362728" ]
	[WP] You dig up a time capsule you buried years ago. Instead of memorabilia, you find a modern phone. It rings.	1,725	[ "\"Hey, it's Jesus,\" the voice cracked. \"Get your shit together, would ya? Margaret tells me you've been sittin' 'round all day watchin' CSI with your dogs. Dogs aren't real friends, ya know.\"\nI stared at the phone that I'd just found vibrating in the tin I'd left under the porch 20 years ago. It wasn't really Jesus, was it? \n\"Yeah it's really me, I can read yer mind too, just so yer aware.\"\nGod damn it, I thought.\n\"Watch it.\"\n\"So Jesus, why are you callin' me of all people?\"\n\"I dunno, honestly. I got bored. I found an opportunity to freak ya out by callin' this here phone and stealin' all yer shit from when you were a lil' kid and thought to myself 'shit, I just need someone to talk to.'\"\n\"So what's up?\"\n\"Nothin'... You?\"", "As the phone pulsated and vibrated in my hand, there I stood and gawked, uncertainty and shock washing over my sweat-soaked face. Only an hour ago I had decided to see if the entry in the old journal was true. “1916 – final entry. Left time capsule containing all the required materials for his return buried behind the usual place. May God have mercy on me for what comes next.” \n \nWhy did I have to find this damned journal?\n \nThe heat of the sun was still strong, even though it had long since passed its peak and was now racing to the horizon. There was a cellphone in the time capsule. But how is this possible? No one has been here in decades. The dirt and sweat coating my hands and head now felt like the only protection I had from this madness. A thin layer of the real, protecting my body from the swirling insanity of what was happening. The phone is ringing. My mind reeled, desperate for an explanation. The edges of the world grew dark, and I began to wonder if I was going to pass out. Damn this heat! The sound of the cicadas began to drone into a permeating hum. The hum penetrated everything. It soon became indistinguishable from the horrible humming that came from the device in my hand. I can’t bring myself to look at it. It’s getting louder now.\n \nThe last thing I remember is the warm earth against my face, and the smell of sulfurous dirt.\n \nDreams came to me. In them, I saw figures in robes. Behind these strangers, orange flames danced tall. The only illumination in this stricken place came from fire. No sunlight could ever touch a place like this. The fire cast long shadows, yet the flames gave no warmth. The robes of the strangers billowed and consumed the light. In them, I could see distant stars. Each robe was a window into the void. They spoke.\n \n“we hear you, oh lord”\n \n“but the dreamer can sense us”\n \n“yes, lord. we shall obey”\n \n“the fruit is ripe”\n \n“it shall be done”\n \nI woke up in a moonlit field and I was very cold. The stars shined above me, but as I looked upon them I was overcome with a horrible nausea. The firmament above was no longer benign. It was watching me. The cellphone lay dormant near me. I could not stop my hand from reaching for it. One missed call – unknown number. Five text messages.\n \n“Do you hear me, my children?”\n \n“I will instruct you through this medium”\n \n“Do not worry about the dreamer. He will crumble. I will make sure of it.”\n \n“Good. The time is nigh. The harvest is ready”\n \n“Begin preparations”\n \nMy hands grew numb as I stared at the backlit screen. I sat there and stared until the illumination faded as the phone went back to sleep. I did not move as the darkness of the night swallowed me. My eyes adjusted to the moon light and I stared at the phone, dead in my hands. But I was frozen. Suddenly I felt whispers gathering around me, approaching me from all sides. I knew what was coming next.\n \nbzzzzzzzzt\nbzzzzzzzzt\nbzzzzzzzzt\n \nThe phone lit up again. Unknown number. I accepted the call, and lifted it to my ear.\n", "You answer.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Is this Paul?\"\n\n\"No\"\n\n\"Ah good. Then I'm supposed to tell you not to hang up.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"I've got an important message for you.\"\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"Remember that time capsule you buried all those years ago?\"\n\n\"...YES?\"\n\n\"It turned into a phone!\"\n\n-click-", "I was startled by my discovery. \nThe box that had long been buried in the earth was at least 100 years old. I remember my grandparent telling me that their grandparents had buried the box. They told me that only once I had turned 18 that I could dive down into the marked spot in the back yard to find the treasure that had been waiting for me to unearth it, and inside was a brand new iPhone. I was shocked as it began to ring.\nCautiously I slid the answer button and raised the phone to my ear.\n\"Hello?\" I called out \n\"Suh Dude?\"\nclick", "Oh hell no. I role my eyes. Some ass whipe jipped my time capsule and more they have the nerve to try this shit? I answer the phone not even giving them the chance to talk. \"I hope you're happy I work for home land security and I will shove this phone so far up your ass a trip to the emergency room will be the only way to get it out! Sleep well!\" I toss in one of those mad genius laughs for good measure. I'm lying of course. I work at subway. I pocket it after hanging up doing a full three sixty with my most disturbed grin do it can be seen from were ever they are and leave. I'll throw it in the trash when I'm out of sure, if it rings no way am I answered it. Let them freak out. ", "There it sits, buzzing.\nBuzzing. \nBuzzing.\nLike my head now so filled with questions. Wasn't this buried 50 years ago? It was sealed. In a vault! In a vault for Christ's sake! A vault in a bank I work 5 days week at and the other two days it's closed!\nMy hand reaches for it when a voice cuts through my own internal voice.\n\"Don't.\"\nI look up. It's my manager. He left hours ago. Why is he-- is he okay? He looks--\n\"Brad are you okay?\" I catch myself blurting out.\n\"You need to leave.\" He says calmly.\nThere's blood on his shirt.\n\"What's going on.\"\n\"Last chance.\"\n\"Bra-\".\nHe lunges at me, there's murder on his face. I feel something pierce my side.\n\"Shia surprise.\" He whispers. I look up, there's murder...in... his...eyes.", "I knew this day would finally come. I was selected 20 years ago to open up this time capsule. There's a phone. As it rings I hear a voice say, \" Who are you\" I reply,\n\n#JOHN CENA ", "\"Hello?\" the phone answered \n\n\"Uh hi... \"\n\nI can't believe I even talked to the Damm thing, I guess it was just instinct. \n\n\" who is this? \"\n\nI don't know why I asked, I knew who it was, nobody can mistake their own voice, I just couldn't believe it.\" \n\n\"I'm the owner of this phone, and I guess your the dickhead who stole it.\"\n\nI just stared blankly at the phone in disbelief. \n\n\"Not gonna talk are ya, well could you at least bring my phone back? \"\n\n\" Fine where are you? \"\n\n\"I'm buried over at the white pine cemetery, is 5:30 a good time to meet? ", "The land of opportunity. \nHalf a year and half a million dollars of blood money later, I finally left my initial skepticism behind, and alongside it the lifestyle that allowed me to amass my fortune. That, and one dull, metal box of memories.\n\nFive more years passed. Quiet years. I had, for the first time in my life, enough peace to truly concentrate. Five years to prick a long-calloused conscience.\n\"I killed people. Smuggled people. Sold people.\" Words once used to describe life in the Old Country. Five years it had taken me to realize the life I had built in America was no less superfluous than my troubled youth that had been wasted in the Merchant Navy.\n\nMy downward spiral did not take long to compensate for five years of delaying the inevitable. Five months saw me out of four apartments, eight cars and one group of dear friends.\nI roamed he streets of Liberty, more imprisoned by my own depression than I had been by any enemy, any hostage situation, any dark cell.\nWhen the last dollar had been spent, I became aware that I had plenty of sober nights left to spend instead. Quiet nights. Peaceful enough to concentrate. To remember I had one more possession. One dull box, with one last bottle of vodka, one last handgun and one last clip. Enough for one last night.\nOr, as it turned out, one last realization that things would not be as I expected. But rather, a cell phone. \n\n\"Cousin, it is your cousin. Let's go bowling!\"", "At first all I felt was confusion. I looked at the tree, and the gnarled roots beneath it; all was as it should be. But instead of the sketchbooks, the CDs, all the other crap 19-year-old me had thought was important, there was a phone. Top of the line Android, no branding. An inexplicable feeling of apprehension built as I tapped and swiped through the phones contents. No applications, no pictures, no music. Only a number, a single, unnamed contact. I reach my thumb to call and for an instant, every fiber of my being screams to me; screams to put the phone down and to run, as fast and as far as my legs and my car and commercial transport can take me. And then, as quick as it came, it's gone. It's just me crouched under the old oak, with a free phone in my hand. I laugh, and tap the dial button. I hold the handset to my ear and with the first ring, it comes back. The fear. I stand there, paralyzed, my fingers gripping the phone like a vice. It rings again, and I feel the doom wash over me, the imminence of my destruction suddenly overwhelming me. Another ring and I pray, a last minute discovery of my inner faith. Suddenly, a soft click, an intake of breath, and [an evil without age presents itself to my ears.](https://youtu.be/dDR__S3jHBE?t=17)", "Hello? say's the person calling on the other side. Can you hear me? she repeats. Can you hear me calling, I'd really like to meet... The line goes silent after the recipient presses the call end button. \"Oh hell no, this bitch aint calling me again.\" He say's in anger.", "I pressed the sleep/wake button not knowing what to expect. The screen lit up emitting a bright white light as the phone booted. Almost instantly after the lock screen came up the phone began ringing. I stared at it for a good ten seconds before I managed to answer it.\n\n\"Hello\"? I asked cautiously.\n\n\"Knock knock\" a gravelly voice answered on the other side of the line.\n\n\"What? Who is this?\" I asked bewildered. Silence. \"Hello?\". More silence. \"Who's there?\" I tried.\n\n\"Allah\" the mystery caller replied.\n\n\"Allah who?\" I shot back in typical knock knock joke etiquette.\n\n\"ALLAHU AKBAR!!!\"", "The phone rings in its lacquered box beckoning to my flustered mind. I stood with the box and the ringing phone quietly. The phone stopped ringing. I checked the battery, only to see a blank screen. I scoured to find a charger. As I waited for the phone to charge, questions came up faster more than I can find answers.\n\nI thought maybe old friends playing a trick on me? Perhaps. But why? What friends did I have back then? Probably it was Jill? No, it couldn't possibly be her. Man do I miss Jill. I think that we could have made it work out. It's too bad she's married now. Oh well. I went to bed and dismissed the clouded thoughts that clouds my mind.\n\nThe phone rings. \n\n\"Hello?\" I ask.\n\n\"Hello. I have been tasked to call you. Are you perhaps Mr. Lien?\" The deep drawl of the man's voice caught my groggy mind's attention.\n\n\"Yes... may I ask who's calling?\" tension fills the silence that lasted for the infinitely quiet moment.\n\n\"That is not one of the questions that I have been tasked to answer. Mr. Lien, I am sure you have one of them, am I wrong?\" A tired sigh blows through the phone. \"Mr. Lien, if you have the wrong question, I'm afraid that I will have to keep pestering you until you do.\"\n\n\"Can I buy a vowel?\" I ask jokingly. \n\nThe phone hangs up. I throw the phone back on my side table. I left it on, just out of curiosity. I had nothing to gain but some form of entertainment from my dull life. \"Man does my life suck.\" I told myself as I fall back asleep.\n\nTime passes by. The phone still remains a part of my life but I still don't know why. During the days off to work, I make sure to bring that phone along with me. It has become somewhat of an essential part of my life now. But it has been ages since it rung, let alone a message. I started feeling bothered by it. I wanted to get called. I wanted to figure out that question. I took the phone out and searched up the recent calls. None. The phone was completely stripped of all information of numbers, messages, and email. I shook it off and headed home. \n\nWhen I got home, the phone rang. I scoured my work bag frantically searching for the phone. I answer it.\n\n\"Curious now, are we?\" The familiar drawl of the voice somehow comforted me. \n\n\"Yes, yes, I am.\" I exhaled in odd relief. \n\n\"Have you found the question you have been looking for?\" The man asks me in a more friendlier manner.\n\n\"I have, perhaps.\" \n\"Would you care to share that question?\"\n\"Give me a moment, I have to be sure about it.\" I paused for a moment, and I wondered what the question could be.\n\n\"Am I happy?\" I asked with a thorn in my throat.\n\n\"Are you?\" The man inquisitively asks.\n\n\"Was that the right question?\" I replied with a glimmer of hope. I hope that this man will have the answer for me. I hoped that this man on the other side would give me a shred of hope for the outcome of my life. I put all my hope in a phone call, to a complete stranger that I have never met before. I had to let this man decide. I had to let this man on the other side who knew me so well tell me if I am because I don't know. I don't know if I am happy or not. It is something that had filled up most of my time, trying to be happy. Trying to let go of the past. Trying to bury what happened so long ago and keeping it buried. Why did I have to dig up this god damned box?\n\n\"That is the right question.\" my thoughts suddenly stopped immediately. \n\n\"What?\" I asked dumbfounded. \"Can you repeat my question?\"\n\n\"Why did you dig up this box?\"\n\"I'm not sure...\"\n\"You know why, but you don't want to face it.\"\n\"Wha- what the hell kind of answer is that!?\"\n\"Mr. Lien I--\"\n\"No no no, you give me a straight answer. Now. I have been waiting far too long for this phone call back and I want a proper answer from you.\" I hear the wind slowly brushing against the phone speaker. \n\n\"Do you wish to die?\" \n\n\"Wh-what?\" I ask nervously.\n\n\"Do you want to die, I ask.\" He responds very clearly.\n\"What?\"\n\"It's as simple as taking that gun out of your glove compartment and blowing your brains out in your car. Mr. Lien, I ask you once again, do you wish to die?\"\n\n\"We-- I don't have to answer that.\" I hang up the phone. \n\nThree days have passed by. I check the phone constantly. I obsessed over the phone call that never comes. It hurt how much I thought about it, for the phone calls that never come, or the texts that I've never received. I needed that satisfaction only for a brief moment. \n\nThe phone dings. I jump in excitement. I open the text. It read a phone number. I don't know who it belongs to per se, but it was something. Without thought, I dialed the number and waited. A familiar voice picks up.\n\n\"Hello?\" I knew that voice anywhere. I knew that this woman was Jill. I knew that this woman, from what I could say, the love of my life. I try to play it cool.\n\n\"Hello, is... is this Jill by any chance?\" \n\"Yes, this is Jill. Who is calling, sorry?\"\n\"It's me! Jae\"\n\"Oh-- hey Jae! It's been ages! I--\" Jill was cut off by a man's voice in the background. I can make out the weak words in the background.\n\n\"Honey I'm home! Kids, go hug mommy.\" I heard footsteps growing louder approach the phone. I hear Jill and her kids giggling about happily in the background. A very sharp and absolute excruciating pain hit me in the chest. \n\nI fall to the ground, and the phone with me. Strained, I call for Jill.\n\"Jill...\" \nNothing but happiness on the other side of that phone. \n\"I have to--\"\nI had to tell Jill, I had to tell Jill what I wanted to tell her so long ago. I wanted to tell her everything, I had to tell her that she was the only person that I have ever loved. I wanted to tell her that I couldn't find someone else quite like her, and that she was everything that I have dreamed of. I wanted to tell her all of the places I wanted to take her, experience with her. \n\nThe severity of the pain doubles.\n\"God damn it! Why?\"\nThe phone hangs up. It rings again, but this time answers on its own. The old familiar drawl crawls from the speaker.\n\n\"Do you wish to die?\"\n\n\"No!\" \nThe pain worsens.\n\n\"Do you wish to die?\"\n\n\"Gah-- no!\"\nThe phone switches back to the giggling. I hear from what I can tell is her husband.\n\n\"Honey, you have no idea what I just got today! A promotion! I can take us on a vacation to anywhere!\" \n\"That's great dear! I love you so much!\" I heard a kiss. The phone went silent for a few seconds and I heard the same question.\n\n\"Do you wish to die?\"\n\nThe pain stopped instantly. I lay there on my back and stared blankly at my ceiling. I figured who I was. I was just an empty husk of a man. My delusions kept me from the ugliness of my mistakes. I've dug this six foot deep hole for myself. It's been a long time coming.\n\n\"It has, hasn't it?\" The man responded.\n\n\"Shut up.\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"So, Mr. Lien, what is your answer?\"\nThe phone switches back to the giggling of a happy family once more. \n\n\"Do you think that I could ever become happy, mystery man?\"\n\nHe answers: \"The grass grows greener on the other side.\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I am a shitty, shitty writer. ^^^^ask ^^^^me ^^^^anything! If you don’t know that, you clearly haven’t read any of the crap have I squeezed out. Drag yourself through just one paragraph of any of my works and you’ll be convinced. If you really can’t be arsed, – I won’t hold it against you – I will just present you with the evidence here. Exhibit A: right now, at this very moment, I’m writing a story about a bitter, struggling author. Can it get more cliché than that? Exhibit B: I couldn’t even come up with two different adjectives to use in my opening line. So I just used one... Twice. \n\nThe tragic thing is that, at some point a long, long time ago (did it again), I honestly believed I had some potential. That I could be above the average. I had just made my debut as a writer. The three page story had everything you could ask for in a short: a naive kid, a bit of adultery and a rat that got murdered with an apple. Hell, it even had dialogue, something I try to steer away from all together these days. \n\nIn a triumphant mood I had printed out the story, neatly folded it and put it in my old Power Rangers lunch box. I had waterproofed the makeshift time capsule with duct tape and buried it the jungle which my father proudly called our back garden. When my first novel would be published and received with great acclaim – a mere matter of time – I would dig it up and reminisce on how it all started. Oh it was the best of times, it was the epoch of belief.\n\nThen came the worst of times. That ‘winter of despair’ so to speak. I started working on my second short story, and my third, my fourth. All of these projects were eventually put on hold. \"Focus on the novel,\" I told myself, \"there is no money in shorts anyway\". You must have seen this coming, but of course, I never wrote the novel. \n \nAs time passed I found myself thinking about my first brush with fiction writing. It had been ages since I last read the story. Something about a kid talking to a murdered rat, or vice versa. I honestly couldn't remember. It dawned on me that 'the story that started it all' was probably - let's face it - as shitty as its writer. The glorious career I envisioned, based on false beliefs. \n \nI found lots of badly written stuff on my PC, including many videos of a certain genre, but no copy of the rat story. By then convinced that the novel would never come, I rolled up my sleeves and started digging. Before long the green Power Ranger gave me a cold stare. It was a damn cool lunch box for sure. The green Power Ranger started whistling the unexpected, but familiar tones of that classic Nokia tune.\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\n \n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ti-du-duun-duu ti-du-duun-duu ti-du-duun-duun-duuuh\n\n&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;\n \nI pulled myself together and removed the duct tape from the box. I picked up the ringing phone.\n\n\"H-hello?\"\n\n“Hello dear sir\", a lady with a peculiar voice answered. \"Don’t ask me how, but I have come into the possession of a brilliant, little story which I believe you wrote. I have to tell you how much I lov—“\n \n“Jesus Christ Mom!” I groaned before I hung up the phone.\n \nI got up, pocketed my trusty old Nokia 3310 and went inside. In the corner of my eye I saw the living room curtain move. I was beaming. Someone believed in me! \n\nOh it was the spring of hope and I had everything before me.", "“Hello?” Joel answered the phone.\n\t“Hello, how are you today?” The polite and prompt voice said.\n\t“I’m fine… I guess, do you want to explain what this is all about? I was planning to find trinkets and memorabilia, instead I find a phone… a new one at that.”\n\t“Congratulations you have won one of our contests. You have been selected to open this time capsule by your peers. You have won an all expenses paid trip.”\n\t“Oh my god, are you serious?”\n\t“ As a heart attack, we need you come to our headquarters immediately to sign the appropriate documents. We planned on you leaving at the beginning of next week.”\n\tSomething shifted in Joel’s mind. “What do you mean, I need to leave at the beginning of next week? I have work, I have an aging great grandmother. Why do I have to leave next Monday?”\n\t“All will be explained at our meeting later today. Please arrive at Bee Technology headquarters as soon as possible and inform security who you are.”\n\t“I need to go back to work, this was a spur of the moment thing.”\n\t“Sir, Mr. Joel, this was not an accident, you have been chosen. Around the city, there are others finding phones in different locations. We are speaking with them now. This is a limited program. You must arrive here as soon as possible before your voucher is claimed.”\n\t“Okay I’m on my way.” What kind of sweepstakes is this? I have to leave on Monday? I must report ASAP? He squinted his eyes at the ground, to suggest suspicion. The uneasiness was still present. Why me? Why now?\n…\n\tThey drugged me. As soon as I identified myself at security I was escorted to an empty room, the shoved me against a wall and pushed a sedative into my system. It was more of an assault than a warm welcome. \n\tI woke up in a steel chair in a chilled room. I wasn't chained to the table or the wall, but the exit door was locked. I felt like I should’ve went back to my underpaying and under whelming job. It wasn't an interrogation room, no windows, no bars. White walls and a steel chair. Wish I had a crossword puzzle, what kind of hospitality is this? I thought I won something. I was selected, I was special. I shouldn't have lunch skipped to rush down here.\n\tThe door knobbed turned at once. Entering were to lab coats, man and a woman. Pretty average, middle aged, brown hair, brown eyes. The man had a blue teal shirt and a sequined green tie. The woman was wearing a blouse, black pencil skirt. \n\tThe man held the door open, odd. They looked at me, I looked at them. They turned around. Their attention was focused on the elderly man in a wheelchair in another lab coat. I was beginning to feel like a subject in an experiment.\n\t“Joel, sorry for the wait we needed to run a DNA test and confirm what we suspected.”\n\t“Where am I? I thought I won a trip now I'm being drugged in a cold room, and I am hungry.” \n\tThe elderly man looked at the middle aged woman and said, “You drugged him?”\n\tShe responded “We had to take precautions, search his belongings, so on, so forth.”\n\t“She told you why you were drugged, I am going to tell you why you are here.”\n\t“Why am I here?”\n\t“The trip you won.” \n\t“Is it to Brazil? I heard the girls down there are amaz…”\n\t“Joel, time is precious, now listen. The trip you won is to the past to stop global warming before it ever starts.”\n\t“Wait, wait what?” He was astonished.\n\t“WE NEED YOU TO GO THE PAST TO SAVE THE HUMAN RACE!”\n\t“ I heard you grandpa, I just can’t believe I can’t go to Brazil.”\n\t", "Least I could say was I was shocked. I haven't used this phone in so long, was there even service going toward it? How was it even ringing, wouldn't the battery have been drained by now?\n\nI reached toward the phone, jittering in the slightly dusty box, and stopped myself. \n\nNever once in this time did I consider who the person calling might be. Never did I once consider what consequences it might hold.\n\nFuck it. I grabbed it and swiped Answer Call on the dusty screen. I put it up to my ear.\n\nA voice immediately sounded through the tinny speakers. \"If you are hearing this, please help. We're stuck here and there's no way out. If you're hearing this, go to the back room and press the button under your bed labeled Time Travel\"\n\nI was shocked. Not only did the phone still work, but someone was talking to me, something I thought was unthinkable. And something about time travel? My heart beat faster. Something unthinkable was on my mind. \n\nIt mattered no more. I must ask this mystery caller.\n\n\"New phone who dis\"\n\n\n", "\"Wait, what?!\" \n\nThose are all the words I can muster while I look at my empty shoe box from fifth grade and see a brand new Motorola resting where my matchbox cars and gameboy games should be. \n\n\"Where's all my stuff?!\"\n\nRight as a million questions start swirling around my head, the phone rings. The Final Countdown begins to play as 'Unknown Caller' flashes on the screen. Hesitating for just a moment, I swipe the screen to accept the call.\n\n\"...Hello?\"\n\nAn automated message begins playing in a formal female voice, \"J, your belongings are safe, to retrieve them you will need to follow the instructions saved on this phone. You know the pass code to access it.\"\n\nAt this point, I just look at the phone in utter disbelief as the message stops and the call ends. \"Who the hell knows this here and how would they have my pass code?\" But sure enough, the code from my phone also accesses this one. There is only one icon saved to the phone's home screen: a .PDF document simply titled 'URGENT. READ ASAP.\"\n\nInstead of opening the file here, on the edge of the woods behind my childhood house, I collect the phone and shoe box and make my way back to my truck. I need to get somewhere safe. I also need to make sure no one is following me. Someone knew I'd be coming here, this phone is brand new and has a full charge, they could still be nearby.\n\nI make it back out of the woods and hop over the small creek I used to play in as a kid. From there I just need to climb up the hill from my back yard and get back on the road. But where do I go now? Do I tell anyone about this? No, they'll think I'm crazy. I better go somewhere public while I try to figure this out. I'm pretty sure there's a Starbucks not too far from here. \n\nGetting into my truck I start thinking of who would take such a roundabout way to ask me for help. My friends aren't pranksters, and even if they were, this is really sophisticated for any of them to do. I haven't even told any of them about my time capsule. \n\n\"Large vanilla latte.\" Before I know it I hear myself saying that to the barista. Thankfully this place isn't very busy. It's that dead hour sweet spot between lunch and dinner when everyone is getting out of school or heading home from work. This make finding a comfy chair in the corner away from everyone easy so I can finally take a look at these 'instructions'. Getting the phone back to its home screen, I tap the .PDF and let it load. \n", "I look down at the phone with amazement. \"It can't be, a moden touch screen phone. But it's 30 years since I placed items in this box\". I then have a distant memory. \"Oh, thats right. Apple just copies ideas from 30 years ago.\"\nAnd everyone lives happily ever after.", "It is my own personal philosophy that most of the problems in the world can be solved with a drink. Lose your job? Have a drink. Lose your girlfriend Abigail on the same day? Have two drinks. Lose your job because your girlfriend Abigail was actually the boss’s estranged wife? Drink the entire bottle. \n\nLike my good friend Audrey would say, you done fucked up kid. \n\nI raised my glass, two fingers of scotch neat, to good old imaginary Audrey in cheers. The drink went down smooth this time, much better than the first half of the bottle. Wiping the last traces from my lips, I wobbled to the iron patio table and sat down in one of the companion chairs with an exhale of air. I had come out into the backyard in the hope that the cool air would help me sober up. But the night was doing nothing for my buzz, what should be a cool breeze was instead a hot humid Miami heat wave that kept the bottle close at hand. \n\nEven just thinking of the word buzz seemed to cause my head to spin, a buzzing noise like a cellphone bouncing around inside a shoebox on vibrate. Irritated I throw the empty tumbler at the closet fence to stop the noise. The shattering glass seemed to clear my head at first but when the buzzing began again I came to the realization that maybe there was a phone in a shoebox somewhere. \n\nWay to go genius.\n\nA few minutes of drunkenly looking around the yard gave way to a half-assed search attempt; the sound wasn’t going away any time soon. I get up from my drunken perch on the chair and stagger towards what I think is the source of the sound – a rose bush. Obviously logic impaired I sit on my haunches looking stupidly at the thorny noisemaker before realizing that I had buried a time capsule there a couple months ago, a sappy romantic tribute to meeting the girl of my dreams. \n\nA man on a mission, I fall forward on my knees, ignorant of the fact I was destroying my dress pants with grass stains and begin digging into the soft earth with my hands. The buzzing was growing louder now, its inane rattling drawing growls and curses as I start scooping dirt out by the handful. After ten minutes I finally have the shoebox uncovered and opened before me, revealing the culprit of my current irritation.\n\nA mobile phone. \n\nI blink stupidly for a moment; did I leave a mobile? And what the fuck are these rubber masks doing in here? The phone starts going off again and before I even know what I’m doing I’m thumbing the answer button.\n\n“Yeah?”\n\n“Hi Richard, I need you to pick up a package of donuts for me from the bakery on 5th street. They are having a Halloween party so make sure you dress in style!”\n\t\nAs the call disconnected I sat there on my knees wondering what the hell just happened. Is this some kind of sick joke? Did Abigail plan this just to mess with me? Even another hit of scotch didn’t clarify anything. But as I stood there, the slight rictus of a smile crossed my face. In the end, I did what any man with no hope and no future did. \n\nI went.\n", "I hadn't been home in 12 years. My parents had passed back in 2010, and my sister was still living in Maryland as far as I knew. Even after all these years, I'd never had another home; I'd never had another personal address. I don't consider the barracks or the various safehouses to be personal abodes. Same to be said obviously for the abandoned steel shop I'd been squatting in from summer of '14 to last November. \n\nHome was still a shithole. The original homes in the hollers had been owned by poor white men a hundred years ago and still stood as broken down monuments to dead souls and empty mines. When my grandfather settled in, most of the other black homesteads in the area either got burned down or abandoned. More shells of families long forgotten. When my mother met my father, out of state corporate raiders tried to drive the locals out, but abandoned their efforts. Turns out yuppies weren't interested in gentrifying Kentucky woods. And as I grew up, the drug dealers and addicts littered the streets. Now here I was, a lone man in a town that no one remembered. All those years of hatred, poverty, and anguish seemed to have transformed the roads into dead passageways like some modern river Styx. \n\nI walked up my childhood drive past the fading \"FOR SALE\" sign hung there in 2010 after dad faded away and the bank had no one to give the house to. I was a ghost at that point, not unlike today, I suppose. I reached up into the gutter and grabbed out a rusted housekey, making my way inside. Pale light poured in from the sun outside, with rays being obstructed by dust particles. I had half a mind to walk around the house, but sentiment was never big for me. I didn't even bother looking in my childhood room. Instead, I walked over to the living room cabinet and grabbed the bottle of bourbon inside.\n\nAfter an hour, sentiment got the better of me. But I remembered the last time I'd been in my room well. A mother's tears cannot be forgotten. I instead walked out back to the shed and grabbed a shovel. I dug into warm earth back by the old cottonwood. After two easy feet, I heard the ping of the shovel hitting the aluminum box. I pulled it out from its old resting place and opened it to look back at a time when I had been innocent. A normal boy, a normal life. Hard maybe, but identifiable.\n\nI cracked the latch and opened the lid. All that lay inside was a cheap prepaid hunk of plastic communication. It rang immediately. I can't say why I wasn't more surprised or taken aback. But I didn't hesitate. Training and twelve years of muscle memory took over. I swiped the answer prompt and said nothing. A voice on the other end took the initiative. \n\n\"Hello again, old friend. I think you must be knowing better than to go back to old places, yes? Maybe no. Every time you are making a ghost, you come back to life. Vitali would still like words. I am thinking you owe us this, yes? Chekov will be with you shortly, so sit still old friend.\"", "I stare at the phone skeptically as it continues to ring. After the third ring, I answer. Hello? who is this? \"Hello, Mr. Ross. It's good to hear you found it, and right on time, it seems\". What? How do you know me? When did you put this phone here? looks around ....Where are you? \"Why do you ask? Are you concerned that I might be hidden somewhere nearby? I can assure you, I'm not. But if you're really that worried I'll give you some time to search the area and collect your thoughts. I'll call you back in exactly fifteen minutes\". ...........He hung up.... No number in the caller ID either... \n\nI look around again. I'm in a small clearing, in a wooded area, about two miles from the road, on private property. At an old campsite I used to use when I was a kid. There's no trace of anyone. It's mid autumn, so the ground is strewn with fallen leaves. The plot where my time capsule was supposed to be appeared untouched before I started digging. Mostly covered with leaves, a little grass. How did he know when to call?\n\nI spend about ten minutes exploring the area in search of a camera. First I look for any incoming wires that I might've missed on my way in. nothing. maybe it's wireless and there's a transmitter nearby? That might explain why the phone has signal here. Or maybe a motion sensor in the phone triggered the call. Who would do something like this?\n\nIs it a prank? I didn't tell anyone I was coming. Hell, until this morning I didn't Know I was coming here. So how would anyone else? riiing riiing. Hello? \"Time's up Mr Ross. Did you find anything\". Not a thing. What do you want? \"My my, impatient aren't you? Perhaps we should get to know one another first.\" Sure thing, just tell me where you are and we'll have a nice long chat. \"Very well. Meet me at your favorite caffe. You know the one\". Click. What caffe? I haven't been to a caffe in.... how could he even know that? I've never told anyone. \n\n(I've never really written anything before, so if this sucks, I'm genuinely sorry. I know the story seems vague so far but I have some interesting plot points in mind... I just don't know how to add them without extending the story... and being that I'm not a writer at all..... this is hard....But if anyone happens to like it I can keep going)", "\"Hello?\" I said picking up the phone with trembling hands. \n\"I have just one question...\" Said the man from the other line. Sounding as if he was a announcer for a sport. \n\"Are you ready?\" He said again \n\"Ready for what?\" I said rembling... I was scared . I could hear trumpets coming from his line. \n\"ARE YOU READY FOR THIS SUNDAY NIGHT WHEN WWE CHAMP JOHN CENA DEFENDS HIS TITLE IN THE WWE SUPERSLAM!!!!\"\n", "\"Hey dude- sorry about the time capsule. It's my fault they took it.\" \n\nI scratched my nose, smearing the tip with wet dirt. \n\n\"Who's this?\" I asked, holding the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I wiped my face with a sleeve. The pit I'd spent the past thirty minutes digging yawned before me like a laughing mouth. I had no idea why my eleven year old self had decided to bury his time capsule this deep. \n\n\"You wouldn't believe me if I told you.\" \n\nThe voice was gravelly, with a peculiar lilt, but it sounded strangely familiar all the same. \n\n\"Why leave the phone, then? Clearly you intended to tell me something.\" \n\n\"Ah, well,\" said the voice, \"the thing about the phone is, that it's not really a phone per se, but more of like a neutron bomb disguised as a phone.\" \n\nI looked at the smartphone. It was a model I didn't recognize, with a thin yellow band that ran around the outside. \n\n\"A what bomb?\"\n\n\"Neutron - a neutron bomb.\" \n\n\"Doesn't seem particularly effective, seeing as I'm still here looking at it. Seems like just a normal old smartphone, actually.\" \n\n\"Well, you're still here because I reprogrammed it remotely. Otherwise there'd be pieces of you raining down across three counties.\" \n\n\"Scary,\" I said, putting the phone on speaker and examining the complex silver emblem on the back. \n\n\"It's not my bomb. I didn't put it there, and I didn't steal the capsule. But the people who did -- they're not your friends. And in a couple minutes, when they notice that your neighborhood is still here, they're going to come back for you. Which is why I need you to listen to me, very carefully, as I tell you exactly what you have to do next.\" \n\nI tried to smile, but something in the man's voice kept tugging the corners of my lips back down. \n\n\"Why should I trust a word you say?\" I demanded. \n\n\"Because,\" said the man, \"I'm your son.\"", "\"Hello?\" I said hesitantly. \n\"It's me\" the voice said. \n\"Who?\" \n\"You know who\" I haven't had a clue \n\"So how's Maggie?\" who the hell is Maggie? \n\"Oh she's fine\" I decided to play along. \n\"Are you going to the party?\" \n\"Yeah, I guess\"\n\"I can pick you up at 7\" \n\"Ok, cool\" \n\"Bye\" \n\"Bye\" \n\nI hanged up. What the hell just happened. Who was that? Who is Maggie and how did this phone get there? I'm pretty sure that when I buried this time capsule there were no smartphones. Even classic cell phones were rare. Also the capsule was intact. But I didn't have time to think about it because the phone rang again. \n\n\"Hello?\" \n\"Hello can I have a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and diet coke. Take away.\" \n\"What?\" \n\"One large pepperoni with extra cheese and diet coke.\" \n\"Miss, you have wrong number this is not a pizzeria.\" \n\"Ah okay sorry\" \n\nShe hanged up. I stared at this phone in disbelief. I didn't even had a chance to check what's on it. The phone rang again. \n\n\"Hello?\" \n\"Sir, drop the phone and step away from it. We have you surrounded. Don't do anything stupid.\"", "\"...hello?\" \n\n\"I know who you are, Sam. If you want your belongings back-\"\n\n\"Wait, Jerry? What the hell man?\" \n\nJerry laughs uncontrollably for a time, and when he finally regains his breath, says, \"I dug that time capsule of yours up two days ago and put a phone in there to fuck with you. Yeah, I have all your old shit. Come over to my place and come get it. I got some chili going and the Timberwolves are playing.\"\n\nSam, smiling a bit, says \"I'll be over in a bit, let me wash up from digging this stupid hole. Asshole.\" \n\n\"You gotta admit it was pretty great. Also I'm gonna need that phone back.\"", "Mayor Richards finished his speech about the history of Flaxcomb and, with the maximum gravitas he could muster, turned the latch on the metal box and lifted the lid. \n\nA bit of dirt had migrated past the seal in the fifty years, coating the inside of the box. For a moment, he feared it was empty. It was well-known that Mayor Simpson had been a drunk. He may have just buried an empty box rather than put in the effort of filling it. No one was going to catch him in his lifetime. That would put a damper on the town's centennial celebrations. But then a glowing rectangle penetrated the dust and a wavering tone at maximum volume drifted from the box. Mayor Richards recognized it as the Dr. Who theme. \n\nAt first, the crowd thought some inconsiderate individual had attended the event with their ringer on loud, spoiling its climax. A gentle murmur rose in the park as everyone looked around for the culprit. For his part, Mayor Richards stared into the box, struck dumb by the unexpected. Principal Wright edged toward him as the Mayor’s silence stretched on and the song continued. \n\nMayor Richards saw the principal recognize the glowing phone inside the box. They locked eyes. \n\n“What do I do?” the mayor whispered. \n\n“I guess you answer it.”\n\nThe mayor reached in, blew the dirt off the device's screen, and dragged the answer button across the screen. The song ended and the murmur from the crowd flashed to silence. \n\nThe Mayor’s voice trembled. “Hello?”\n\n“Hey man,” the voice came across the line, “What’s up?”\n\n“Nothing,” the Mayor answered. “I mean, well, it’s the Centennial.”\n\n“Oh yeah. Of what?”\n\n“Flaxcomb.” \n\n“Flaxcomb?” the voice asked while chewing something crunchy. “I don't know what that is, dude.”\n\n“It's a town,” the Mayor answered lamely.\n\n“Oh cool,” the voice said absentmindedly, “You want to come over?”\n\nThe Mayor didn't know what to say. \n\n“Hey man? You there?”\n\n“Yeah. I'm here,” the Mayor stuttered. “We have a potluck later.”\n\n“Oh cool,” the voice said, “Okay, have fun. We’ll catch up later.”\n\n“Wait!” the Mayor said. But there was no answer and when he looked down he saw that the call had ended. \n\nPrincipal Wright was the first to speak. “Who was it?”\n\nThe Mayor looked over to the principal but couldn't answer. Someone yelled from the crowd. “What did they say?”\n\nThe Mayor bent down and croaked into the microphone. “Wrong number.”\n", "\"I'm telling you I buried it under this tree!\" I yelled as I stuck my shovel into the muddy ground, a few feet from another hole I had just recently finished digging. It had been twenty years since I had been home and almost nothing had changed. Well, except for the fact that my childhood home was now a hole in the ground.\n\n\"Krystal, how do you know it's even here?\"\n\nI shook my head and shoveled a good chunk of mud out of the way, which was quickly replaced my even more mud. \"Just get the shovel and keep digging, please.\"\n\nMy fiancee sighed heavily as he walked over and slammed his shovel into the ground, splashing a few bits of mud over my jeans. He chuckled a bit as he and I dug another two holes. \"I just think you're chasing a pipe dream. Besides, we could always come back when it's not raining.\"\n\n\"And what? Tell the new owners that I buried a time capsule here when I was eight?\" I shook my head, \"It's not or never and I would like to get it.\"\n\n\"Why?\" He shoveled a good chunk of root out of the way.\n\n\"Because it has my something old in here.\" He knew what I was talking about of course, I had mentioned it almost every day since we were engaged. We both knew I wanted it and ever since my father had moved out of the home and sold the property, I had to go back for it. It was my mother's old locket, a gift she gave me just before she passed. I cherished it and I knew the moment she gave it to me that I needed to keep it safe. \"It's now or never David.\"\n\nWe kept digging as the rain poured in around us, the old tree in the yeard standing strong against the rapidly deteriorating storm. No wonder my father wanted to sell the place, I thought, it got pelted by a storm almost every week these days. That, and he was never his normal self since mother died. \n\nMy fiancee and I continued to dig in silence, occasionally starting a new hole when the one we dug got too deep or too filled with water. Minutes passed before the lightning struck and branches from the tree started to come down and David became increasingly worried that the tree was going to fall right on top of us. But we kept digging and we didn't stop until I heard the distinct clunk of metal hitting metal.\n\nI shot my head upwards and looked at David, who just moments before was wet and cold, now had a face of pure delight on. He scrapped the shovel against the metal box and then knelt down. I smiled as he stuck his hand into the mud and pulled out a very dirty container. \"That's it!\" I screeched as I slid over in the mud and grabbed it out of his hand.\n\nA lightning bolt struck over the horizon and thunder cracked across the sky a moment later. He was already grabbing my arm and the other shovel, \"Let's go. We can open it at the hotel!\"\n\nHe grabbed our shovels and more than likely, dragged me out of my backyard and into the car. We were dirty, our shoes and pants covered in mud and our rain jackets soaked, but David didn't mind. His car was vintage as it was, a little mud and dirt never hurt anyone anymore.\n\nI didn't move a muscle in the car and I simply held the box in my hands tightly as he started the car and blasted the heat. \"I can't believe we found it.\"\n\nHe placed his hand on my shoulder and kissed me lightly on the cheek, \"I'm sorry I doubted you.\"\n\nI looked back at him, \"Thank you.\"\n\nHe raised an eyebrow, \"Well, are you going to open it?\"\n\nI took a deep breath and nodded. It had been so long since I buried it and so much had happened in those twenty years between then and now. My mother's passing, graduation from high school, college, and my acceptance into graduate school. I met the love of my life and moved out of the house, my father was in retirement and sold the house, and I was ready to start a family soon. So much time had passed in twenty years.\n\nI slid the lock and opened the container. Inside it was just like I remembered it. There was a small rock collection that I thought were asteroids when I was a kid, a Polaroid photo of my mother, father, and I at the beach, the set of McDonald's Happy Meal toys I had collected, and the locket, neatly wrapped around an iPhone.\n\nWait a second, \"There's an iPhone in here?\"\n\nDavid leaned over in the car, \"What? I thought you said you buried it when you were eight?\"\n\nI nodded, \"I did.\" I stuck my hand in the capsule slowly, as if the phone was going to attack me, and I wrapped my hand around it and the locket. The locket was in pristine condition just like when I buried it, but it didn't have the clear plastic bag that I put it in, instead it had the phone. It was the same locket, too, with a clearly engraved K on the front. I stared at it and the phone and looked at my fiancee with a puzzled look on both of our faces.\n\n\"Is it on?\"\n\nI looked back at the phone and used my other hand to pull the locket off of it. I clutched it in my hand as I pressed the home button on the phone. Surprisingly, it lit up with a 76% battery life, and a message appeared on screen.\n\nOne Missed Call.\n\nI took a deep breath, \"What is this?\"\n\nDavid shook his head as he watched me place the locket back into the capsule. \"Is, maybe there's a voicemail?\"\n\nI nodded and went to slide the iPhone open, but it asked for a code. I frowned before I thought about what it could be. The only reasonable one would be the year in which I buried it, so I very clearly put in the numbers.\n\n1-9-9-6\n\nThe iPhone slid open with a click and I quickly opened up the menu to get to the Voicemail screen. Just as David had predicted, there was a single message on screen, dated January 20th, 2016 at 7:07 PM, six minutes ago. I took a deep breath, \"Should I play it?\"\n\n\"Yes you should play it!\" He said.\n\nI chuckled and pressed the play button on the iPhone, making sure it was on speaker. At first it was nothing but the distinct shuffling sound of someone's hand or pocket, but gradually it became much more clearer until a voice I hadn't heard in a long time came on the phone.\n\n\"Hello, dear,\" it was my mother. \"I'm sure you are wondering what is going on. that's understandable, but if everything goes correctly, you should be receiving this message right after you dig up your capsule.\"\n\nI looked at David, who was equally stunned. He didn't recognize the voice, but I think from my reaction he knew who was on the phone.\n\n\"It is something I wish I could have showed you sooner, or taught you sooner. But there's a reason I had to go all those years ago. A very specific reason that I hope you will eventually forgive me for.\n\nI have seen you grow though, become a woman I would have been proud to raise and love. I still love you of course, and David seems like such a wonderful young man.\"\n\nI looked at David who was now sitting back in his seat and staring straight ahead. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned back to the phone.\n\n\"You see dear, I couldn't stay. I have been doing this for so long that I realized I couldn't watch my daughter grow up not really knowing her mother. But I also realize the mistake in that and the fact that I couldn't stop you from learning the truth behind everything.\n\n\"It's going to sound crazy I know, but you remember the locket, don't you? Of course you do, your something old, of course.\"\n\nI was stunned.\n\n\"Take the locket and input the date of my funeral on the left flap and the time on the right. Three hours after it ended. If you don't remember the time, turn it to nine-fourteen pm, I'm sure you remember the date. \n\n\"Just click and hold the top button for ten seconds, not a moment longer and come to the grave. Don't talk to anyone on the way, don't say hello to anyone, just come to the cemetery.\"\n\nI looked at David who now had a look of genuine worrisome on his face.\n\n\"I know it sounds crazy, but if you trust me, which I think part of you still does, you'll do it. Besides, think of it as a gift to your mother, my birthday is coming up after all.\"\n\nI stared at the phone as the seconds ticked by on the voicemail.\n\n\"I love you. And, I'll see you soon.\"\n\nThen the voicemail cut and I was left sitting in the car with my fiancee and a time capsule from 1996.\n_____\nFantastic prompt! If you liked this story, check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work! ", "I looked down at the phone and then to the rest of the items in the time capsule. There were toys, a letter asking if I was still thinking about Bobby, and something that MIGHT have been a sandwich fifteen years ago. The phone ringing was weird, but the sandwich thing was weirder.\n\nI grabbed the phone out of the box and looked at the number, it was nothing I recognized. That being said, I wasn't exactly going to send this sort of strange bullshit to voicemail, so I picked it up.\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Hello?\"\n\n\"Who is this?\"\n\n\"I should be asking you the same thing,\" the man on the other end said. He didn't sound like he was happy.\n\n\"You called me!\"\n\n\"No I didn't,\" he scoffed into the phone, \"I found this phone and it was ringing, I picked it up and you were here.\"\n\n\"So you're saying that I called you?\" I asked. I supposed that two people being called wasn't weird compared to the time capsule phone.\n\n\"Yes, because you did.\"\n\n\"But I -\" I stopped myself, \"whatever, the point is, what's up?\"\n\n\"Nothing much, pretty nice day. I got a ghost phone call, you?\" I could feel the sarcasm dripping off of his voice like molasses.\n\n\"Samesies.\"\n\n\"Samesies?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I said, \"picked up the phone and here you were.\"\n\n\"That's not how phones work.\"\n\nI sat myself down against the trunk of the tree that I'd buried the time capsule under. \"I know right?\"\n\n\"So you're-\"\n\n\"Hillary,\" I said as I looked at the sandwich. It might have been a pile of Oreos.\n\n\"David,\" he responded, \"nice to meet you I guess.\"\n\n\"Yeah, so where did you find the phone?\"\n\n\"Time capsule,\" he said, \"buried it under a tree-\"\n\n\"Fifteen years ago?\" I asked.\n\n\"This is weird.\"\n\n\"Yeah it is.\"\n\n\"Yeah it is,\" he said back to me. I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment. There wasn't anything strange about it. Aside from the fact that it existed at least.\n\n\"So.\"\n\n\"So.\"\n\n\"What do we do now?\" I asked.\n\n\"Hang up?\"\n\n\"No! There has to be something more to this, we just found random phones in our back yards and you're telling me that you just want to move on?\"\n\n\"Yeah, pretty much.\"\n\n\"All right,\" I hissed, \"fine, I'll hang up.\" I pulled the phone away from my ear and swiped across the screen as aggressively as I could. As soon as the call hung up the world flashed in front of my eyes. \n\nI was blind for a good thirty seconds, but I shook the white away and looked around me. Most things were the same, the only difference I could make out was that there were maple leaves around me now instead of pine needles.\n\nThe phone stayed quiet and I looked from it to the leaves and then back to it. It wasn't like there was anything else for it to do. I picked myself up off of the ground and shook my head. Blonde hair got into my mouth and I swore.\n\n\"Who is that?\" asked a small child from the inside of the house.", "As I strolled through the luscious green park of my old elementary school, brimming with shrubbery, moss, flowers of all colors and trees, a flood of memories shot into my head. All the pure fun I had as a kid, before college or shitty retail jobs, before broken hearts and a father that bails on you...I missed those days. When your only job was to learn and to have fun, not to make money or scrape by or question why someone doesn't love you.\n\nI may only be 20, but I feel old now.\n\nI noticed a patch of exposed dirt off to my left, a clear indicator that the ground had recently been torn up and packed back down. It hadn't been there yesterday, or any other day I'd made the walk, for that matter- and I walked that path every day I was home, since childhood.\n\nOn second thought...isn't that where I buried my time capsule?\n\nI couldn't remember for sure, but I thought I'd look. As I approached it, I became certain that it was indeed where I buried my capsule- I'd marked a tree next to it with a knife, carving a little heart into the bark. A shovel had been laid down by the roots.\n\nWhy would someone dig up my capsule?\n\nI had to find out. I was curious to see my capsule, anyway, and so I dug. The earth was soft and smelled of minerals- a smell I have always loved. It only took a few minutes to unearth the capsule.\n\nI opened it and what I saw confused me. It was a rectangular gift box. \n\nThis is not what I buried...\n\nI hesitated at first, but decided to open it. There was an iPhone 6s inside, brand new, though the box had been opened, and a note attached to it. It read:\n\nDear Jane,\n\nI hope you are well. This may be a risky way to get your present to you, but I know you're home from break and you always loved walking down that path of yours. You're attentive too, you've always been sharp. I feel like you're old enough now to make this decision for yourself, Jane, so I will offer it to you.\n\nI am your father. I left when you were young after being diagnosed with schizophrenia; it was too much for your mother to handle along with 3 children. Your birthday is in a few days, so I thought I'd give you something nice. My number is in the phone...if you want to call me, and maybe meet with me, you can. I'd love to see how beautiful of a woman you've become. If not, I understand. I love you.\n\n-Dad\n\nI sat there, dirt filling my back pockets, staring at the note. A breeze picked up and blew through my hair. \n\nI put my old SIM card into the 6s and booted the phone up. His number was in there, under the contact name 'daddy <3'. \n\nI cried a little bit and clicked on his name. It actually dialed through.\n\n\"Happy birthday, darling,\" a voice answered the phone, a soothing voice I'd longed for as a child. It was the best present I'd ever get.", "I pull the box from the grass, dust the dirt from the top, unlock the padlock, pull the lid open and have a heart \nattack.\n\nWell, not really, but I was pretty startled when I saw the iPhone between the old shirts and records and newspapers from the forties.\n\n\"What the hell?\"\n\nMy great-grandfather buried this box seventy-five years ago in my back yard – and I'm pretty sure he didn’t \nmention anything about an iPhone.\n\nI turn the phone on. Immediately a message pops up – \"new voice recording.\"\n\nI click the little envelope and push the phone against my ear.\n\nThe voice comes clear and familiar. \"Dean, it's Erica. What I'm about to say is going to make zero sense, but you \nhave to trust me. Get up from where you are and go to the corner of Lexington and Berry Road, house 325. You \nknow, Mrs. Ania's house, my piano teacher. Get in there, ask to go to the bathroom, or whatever. Just get in there. \nThen find the last door to the right after the kitchen, walk in. It's a bedroom. There's another door inside that \nbedroom – it looks like it leads to a bathroom, but it doesn't. It leads to… wherever the fuck I am now, which I \nhave no idea where it is. Just… go there, send someone… anything. Please. I know I sound crazy, but… fuck, I'm not even sure if this is gonna work. I gotta go, they're gonna start yelling about how Pearl Harbor has just been attacked soon. Please, if you find this, hurry Dean.\"\n\nThe message ends, and I almost laugh, but… Erica's not really the kind of girl who'd pull a prank like this – specially something involving my family, and my great-grandfather's memory box. It doesn't sound like her.\n\nPlus it's Sunday, and I have nothing better to do. I try calling her, but it goes straight to voice mail.\n\nSo what the hell? I decide to check with Mrs. Ania.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Hey, Mrs. Ania, can I use your bathroom?\" I say, because well, what else can you say to an old lady when you \nknock on her door? \"I know my house is nearby, but I have to go really bad.\"\n\n\"No problem. Come in, come in. Would you like some tea? I could make –\"\n\n\"Just the bathroom will be fine, Ania,\" I smile, going past her.\n\n\"How's Erica? You two have a wedding date set already?\"\n\n\"God, no. Thanks, Mrs. Ania.\"\n\nI cross the living room, go past the kitchen and head to the back of the hallway. I open the last door and walk in.\n\nIt's a bedroom, all right.\n\nI head for the door on the opposite end, all the way asking myself what am I doing and regretting this already.\n\nFreaking Erica… but how would she even know about the memory box? And even if she did, the lock wasn't \nbroken… and Erica would never do something like that, it's totally inappro –\n\nI shut up, because the second I step in and turn my hand instinctively to find a light switch, not only do my fingers \nnot find one – they don't find a wall at all. My feet goes right past where the floor would be too, sinking into nothing. Before I know it, I'm free falling through darkness, the rectangular shape of the door opening distancing itself upwards and upwards and upwards until it's no more than a dot of light up above. Then the darkness is complete.\n\n\n", "\"What's your earliest memory?\" a voice asked me over the phone.\n\nI stared at the screen in disbelief. Instead of finding old pokemon cards and newspaper clippings that I'd put inside, my shoebox time capsule now contained a cell phone. And not the brick-sized monstrosities from when I was a kid: a sleek new iPhone in a bright pink case. Fully charged, and full service, with no explanation for how it got there or where all of my stuff went. And if that wasn't weird enough, it rang just seconds after I pulled the time capsule out of its shallow grave and opened the box. My own name popped up for that number, but it certainly wasn't my voice on the other end. It was a soft, sultry feminine voice that you'd expect to find on the other end of a phone sex hotline. \n\n\"My earliest memory?\" Of all the weird questions to ask, that was what this woman started with? How about all of my questions? \"Who is this?\" I asked\n\n\"Just trust me,\" she said. For some reason, I did. Deep down, I just felt like I could. \"Tell me your earliest memory.\"\n\n\"I... umm...\" What was my earliest memory? It didn't seem like a hard question, but when I actually tried to conjure it up, it was like my brain was full of fog. \"I remember walking on the beach in South Carolina with my dad, and our dog. Where we used to go on vacation.\" The more I described it, the more the image became clear. Like I was dragging it out from its hiding place. I did remember that place, though I hadn't been back since I was like six or seven. The windswept beaches with endless miles of flat, white sand. The cold Atlantic ocean. Barbecuing out on the deck of our vacation rental home. \n\n\"When was the last time you told someone about this memory?\" she asked as I was still lost in thought. \n\nHad I ever talked about it with someone? Surely at some point. If not the memory, then at least the beach vacations. \"I'm not sure. Maybe four or five years ago?\"\n\n\"Good,\" she answered. \"I'm not sure how long they've had you. Now, keep that memory in your mind. Really hold onto it. And then go ask your parents if they remember it too. But change it: instead of South Carolina, ask them if they remember going to vacation in Florida. Just don't make them suspicious, and don't tell them about the phone.\"\n\n\"I've never been to Florida,\" I told her. \n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\nThere was silence between us as I processed this. \"What the hell is going on?\" I shouted into the phone, so loud that my neighbor's dog began barking in the yard next to me. \"How are you doing this? How did you get this phone into my time capsule? Who are you?\"\n\nSometime during my tirade, she hung up. I opened up the contacts section, but my name wasn't listed there. The phone's log of calls was blank. No evidence that the conversation had ever happened... except for the phone itself. \n\nI went back inside. Mom was washing dishes in the kitchen as I came through the screen door. She shot me a disapproving look, and I realized I was covered in dirt from all the digging. \"What were you doing out there, honey? I heard you talking to someone\"\n\n\"I....\" My voice faltered. Should I tell her? The voice had wanted me to lie to her and ask if we'd ever been to Florida. Why? What harm could it do, though. She'd ask if I meant South Carolina, and everything would be normal again. \"Nothing really,\" I answered. \"I was just singing a song stuck in my head.\" I could feel the weight of the phone in my pocket. Waiting for me to ask her the question. \"Hey, Mom? Remember when we used to rent a house in Florida for vacation? When I was younger?\" She stopped washing the bowl in her hand and turned to look at me. I couldn't decipher her facial expression. \"We should go back there sometime; I really loved it.\"\n\nShe looked back down at the bowl, but didn't answer right away. Why didn't she answer?? \"Of course I remember,\" she finally answered. \"Maybe I'll talk to your father about it, and we can go back.\"\n\n\"Can we try to rent the same house?\" I told her, doubling down on the lie. \"The one on Sanibel Island?\" How could she not remember? We had entire photo albums of our vacation in South Carolina, currently sitting on a shelf in the living room!\n\n\"That would be nice,\" she said, still scrubbing at the bowl.\n\nI opened my mouth to speak, but I felt the phone vibrate in my pocket. I couldn't check it in front of Mom. So without another word, I continued to my room. \"Dinner will be in an hour!\" she called after me.\n\n> That's not your mother\n\nJust a text message. I typed back: \n\n> What the hell is happening? Who are you? What do you want?\n\nI tried to sit down, but my entire body was practically jittering with nervous energy. Not my mother? Then who was she? And who the hell was this on the phone??? I practically jumped a foot into the air when the phone buzzed again in my hand.\n\n> You need to get out of the house.\n\nAs soon as I read that, I heard the garage door opening, and Dad's car pulled in.\n\n----\n\nOk, I'm turning this into a 'Choose your own adventure' story! Here are your options:\n\n1. [Do what the woman on the phone says](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/4209ta/whats_your_earliest_memory/cz6jpoz)\n\n2. [Tell your parents about the phone](https://www.reddit.com/r/Luna_Lovewell/comments/4209ta/whats_your_earliest_memory/cz6nogc)\n\n----\n\nAll done! Hope you enjoy following the different parts of the story!\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 6, 7, 7, 8, 9, 12, 13, 42, 55, 849 ]	[ "1453390924", "1453400995", "1453401165", "1453402414", "1453402940", "1453402999", "1453405526", "1453405595", "1453407556", "1453408826", "1453409061", "1453409126", "1453410021", "1453394239", "1453400088", "1453401216", "1453402670", "1453404960", "1453400500", "1453402191", "1453404991", "1453405821", "1453387879", "1453390042", "1453400215", "1453386957", "1453390294", "1453383165", "1453390539", "1453386485", "1453386350" ]
	[WP]You're a world-renowned surgeon who can heal almost anyone.What people don't know is you made this possible by making a deal with the Devil,and for every patient that you heal,a year is taken off your life.	30	[ "“Doctor, I don’t understand why you need this information. It’s not relevant to the patient’s condition.” \n\n“Maria, please. Just give me his file.”\n\nMaria passes a thick, manila envelop across the table. Across the hall, the patient is in the ER prepping for surgery. Hesitantly, I open the folder. \n\nMy P.I. is a pro. He can find dirt on anyone, anywhere. Criminal records, domestic abuse reports, background checks, drug tests, you name it. If you have something to hide in your past, he will find it. \n\nHow unfortunate for this patient. \n\nIn ’92 he was accused of sexual abuse, though no formal charges were ever filed. Lack of evidence was cited. \n\nIn ’99 he was arrested for a DUI. \n\nIn ’03 he was again arrested, this time for spousal abuse. His wife filed for divorce weeks later and was given full custody of their child. \n\nHis bank account statements indicate he has nothing in savings, and his income is paltry considering the cost of living in this area. Yet, he lives in a large home in a well-respected, wealthy area of town. Something doesn’t add up. \n\nApparently the IRS thought the same, and audited him twice in the past five years. However he's made money, he's done a good job covering it up. \n\n“Doctor, we really need to begin surgery. He’s not going to make it much longer and you have that boy set for surgery at four. If we don’t start now…”\n\n“I understand Maria, let’s begin.”\n\nEvery time I walk into the operating theater, I feel guilt. Guilt for my own selfishness, guilt for not being able to help more people, guilt for the weakness I succumbed to all those years ago. Eventually those feelings pass, and I feel better about myself. No one else in the world can possibly help this man. His condition is far beyond what modern medicine can treat. I became a Doctor because I always wanted to hold someone's life in my hands and save them, regardless how they've lived. Sadly, those decisions are no longer up to me. \n\nI cut him open and pretend to work. He will die today….but at least the boy will live. \n", "The women had broken the kitchen window I could see now reflected in the knife she held at my face.\n\n\"You fix my boy!\" She demanded trembling, half desperate half crazed. Basically the poster child for the war against meth there wasn't much to her. \n\nThe boy slouched in the door frame a growing pool of blood around his feet. Ruining my grout. His eyes are wild and angry. The only strength left in him is used to cover the gaping wound in his side. \n\n\"What?! This little shit? Why the fuck would I save him?\" I felt the blade cut into my cheek. The pain was instant and awakening. \n\"Okay, okay, okay, easy. \" she backed the knife off but not as far as before. \n\n\" you're a doctor by law you're required to help someone who's dying.\" She said smugly. \n\n\"It doesn't look bad I'm sure he'll make a full recovery.\" As the words left my mouth I saw his eyes roll back and arm go limp. \n\"Damn kid...\" I muttered before we heard his head crack against my tavertine tile. My very expensive tavertine tile. If you wanted get down to the details it cost me my soul. \nThe ladies head whips around at the sound, the blade slips and nearly cuts me again. \n\n\"My baby!\" She screeches. And when she turns back to me her demand is clear.\n\n\"If he dies so will you.\" She says completely steady and I know she means it.\n\n\"I'll fix yer boy\" I reply with more balls than I really have. \n\nI don't really need much to fix someone. The deal was anyone I work on lives. I fixed an aortic tear with an m&m bag. I was boasting, even wrote an article for medical daily on the benefits of impromptu surgical equipment. But now I figure I better look serious for this lady. I grab a few things off the counter and some dishrags from under the sink. All the while she follows me around the kitchen. \n\nWhen I get to the kid with a reasonable pile of \"surgical equipment\" he is barely breathing. I'm no necromancer and if this kid goes it won't matter how many candy bar wrappers I stuff in him, he won't come back. \n\nI remove the shirt and immediately see the skin is blown away, I see yellow adipose and some exposed intestine. It was definitely a gun shot at close range. It was even worse for the exit wound. \n\nThis is going to ruin my new Egyptian cotton pjs. I thought. \n\n\"Hey you! Don't let him die!\" The lady reminds me of the knife now at my back. \n\nI get to work stuffing and tying things off. Really I can do what I want here. The devil is in the details. \n\nI start to see the wound start to close. He starts to groan and the lady leans in. \n\"Is he gonna make it?\" \n\n\" unfortunately... That's the way it works.\" I'm not hiding my disappointment. \n\n\"Fuck you guy.\" The boy spits out. The lady drops the knife and kneels at his side. \"Oh my baby, thank gawd.\" She's still shrieking.\n\n\" don't thank god lady, he didn't have shit to do with it.\" I reply.\n\nRemembering my presence she picks up the knife again and helps her delinquent offspring off the floor. She points it at me. Back to her batshit crazy self and back out the doorway keeping her son behind her. \n\"Don't you say a word about us.\" She says swinging the knife before disappearing into the night. With my knife. My fucking cutco knife. I go to the counter and touch the slot on the wooden knife block where the blade should be. \"One less\"\n\n", "I had a reputation as being the world's hardest to see surgeon. Many tried to refer to me, but I refused all but the most hopeless. I received death threats from the families of cancer patients, boys with bad bullet wounds, greedy rich people with terminal illnesses, you name it. I only work on a few kinds of cases.\n\nMy last case was a woman with an unknown condition. Her body was undergoing degeneration never observed before. Thanks to my power, I knew what was causing it and how to solve it. She is the 40th patient I've served in my career. \n\nI have another referral. A rare genetic disorder that is gradually turning a young boy into a human vegetable. He is barely conscious, and no doctor knows how to help him. If I accept him, it's the last thing I'll do before I die. I am ok with denying most patients because modern medicine is so advanced. Many illnesses, even cancer, can be well treated by other doctors.\n\nI accept him. I could tell this child has the potential to be a world leader. Intelligent, caring, empathic to the point of correctly judging how others felt. 11 years old and could finish high school next year if he were healthy. How could I deny him?\n\nThe operation is completed. Who else could have come up with gene-resequencing therapy as the answer? My life is slipping away. Before I discharge the boy, I told him. I was only allowed to tell one person of my power, and he is the one. I gave him the blueprints, and that he could save the world. I signed his release, and my death warrant.", "I stopped checking my email two weeks ago. It was filled with only two things: desperate pleas, and unearned praise. I am 35 years old, and already considered the best surgeon in the world. At an age where many medical professionals are only beginning to establish their client base, I am already the toast of the field. A wunderkind of the highest order. A shining example held up to students - if you work hard, you can do amazing things.\n\nI have performed twenty surgeries that were deemed nearly impossible, and all to save lives. I know I have performed twenty such procedures because I have kept meticulous count.\n\nAfter every successful surgery, the headlines roll in. Backslapping, both literal and figurative, from across the medical world. Countless interview requests. I was even given a front-page spread in the New York Times. They said I performed miracles. But their use of the word 'miracle' was entirely secular. They used it with their nose turned up, with a clear and bold subtext: we, humanity, we are the workers of miracles. Not long-held notions of the divine. We, with our hands and our brains and our science, we defy logic and snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.\n\nWhat I do is no miracle.", "The devil stubbed out his cigar and picked up the ringing phone.\n\n\"You have reached fallen angel healthcare, how may I help you?\"\n\n\"If like to cash in one year of life in exchange for healing a terminal illness please.\"\n\nThe devil turned to his computer.\n\n\"Your name please.\"\n\n\"Mike Tucker.\"\n\nAnd your patients name?\"\n\n\"Mike Tucker.\"\n\n\"And the terminal illness in question?\"\n\n\"Premature aging.\"", "My fingers trembled as I held the scalpel above his skin.\n\nI...\n\n\"Doctor?\" my assistant asked, looking up.\n\nI don't...\n\n\"Doctor, what's wrong?\" she repeated.\n\n\"I don't know if I can do this...\" \n\nI felt my voice trail off near the end, as I felt my hand retreat and replace the knife on the table beside me. She gave me a concerned look before looking down at the patient on the table. I could see from her eyes that she had never seen me like this.\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nHer response caught me off-guard. Isn't she supposed to talk me out of backing out? I thought. This patient will die if he doesn't get that heart.\n\nI looked down at the patient's sleeping face -- a young boy, no older than twelve at most. He came into this operating room trusting that I would do what I promised, and to save his life; what kind of person would renege on that promise? \n\nI'll tell you who: a man who has just under a year left and would surely die if he performed this operation.\n\nMy body leaned away as I took a half step back from the table, stopping only to see the assistant prepping to take the boy out of the O.R. and back to his room. W...\n\n\"Wait...\" \n\nThe word left my throat with such little sound that I was surprised when she paused to look at me.\n\nI moved back to the table and picked up the scalpel. \"I ca--I can do this,\" I stuttered." ]	[ 2, 2, 2, 3, 9, 13 ]	[ "1453406974", "1453420705", "1453429299", "1453399828", "1453395080", "1453392568" ]
The American 2016 election cycle begins. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=henyNJ9X5a0	[WP] On an alternate earth, political power is dictated by martial arts prowess.	21	[ "Its 2224 AD\n45 years have passed since World war 3. The single most destructive event to have occured to Earth since the meteorite hit 65 million ago. The 1% of the total population that survived,the ones who managed to rebuild humanity from scratch,became dissapointed on the way people were chosen as leaders. Now the political and physical power have become one. Only the best of the best are chosen to lead. But everyone knows the history, so lets get it over with.\n\nTo my right,weighing 70kg and at a height of 1.78m, the current grand champion of the world and president of the New United States of America, Chuuuuuck Norris. And to my left, weighing 86kg and at a height of 1.74m, the great successor of the legendary Bruce Lee and leader of the Asian Empire, Jackie Chaan. This battle shall decide the fate of the grand continent of Africa. Will Mr Jackie continue with his dangerous expansional politics or shall Mr Norris put an end to him once and for all?Of course, we are all eager to ring the bell but we'll go on a 10 minute break, stay tuned at BBC news. \"\n\n\nEnglish isnt my mother tongue so let me know of any mistakes", "And on this year of 2016, we celebrate the 76th birthday of our eternal God Emperor, Bruce Lee. May the WATAA be with you" ]	[ 1, 3 ]	[ "1453463272", "1453433492" ]
	[WP] A Civil War where all the combatants are civil to one another.	28	[ "On the front lines of a not so distant battlefield, mid 1800s...\n\nReginald sat with his comrades in poorly made trenches, covering themselves with ample clothing to fight the cool air that had fallen upon them. Next to him were Sir Wells, the most gentlemanly of gentlemen, the most gracious and courteous of lads in the land, and not only that, but a true scholar at that, learning true manners and how to keep well groomed, even in the most dastardly of conditions. He was also a man that you would want by your side in times of trouble to help meet your enemies head on. And then there was Barnleby- though he was not a rich lad, he was able to stand with his fellow gentlemen, no matter what had faced them. For what he lacked in the department of cleanliness, he made up for in his shoe polishing abilities, a skill which won him many good men as friends.\n\nBarnleby shivered under his coat, caressing his arms to warm them, though it did little to help.\n\n\"Ah, sir Barnleby, you look a tad bit cold!\" Said Sir Wells, with much concern for his brother in arms. \"Would you like to borrow mine? I have brought my finest coats with me back at camp, tis not far to go!\"\n\n\"Are you sure sir? Even if I may get it dirty in this mud?\" Exclaimed Barnleby, who felt truly honored to even be considered a man to be lent a coat to by none other than THE Sir Wells.\n\n\"Of course lad, take what you need within reason, they are in my tent, inside the large chest! Tell my servant that I sent you and he shall also give you a hot cup of tea, lad! Now go on, I do insist that you get warmed up, for who knows when these- pardon my language, but these ratscallions will strike at us next!\"\n\n\"Good sir, you honor me! I shall be back in two shakes of a lambs tale sir, and thank you- THANK you for the privelage of your aid sir!\"\n\nWith that, Barnleby crawled out of the trench, heading a few paces back to Sir Wells' tent. Reginald and Sir Wells were left in each other's company, anticipating when the enemy forces would dare show their faces.\n\n\"Oh Reginald!\" Piped up Wells. \"I do believe I see those devils coming towards us!\"\n\n\"Aye sir, that they are!\" Spoke Reginald, excited to finally fight the enemy. \"We shall give them a proper thrashing and kick their arses, righ-\"\n\n\"REGINALD!\" Gasped Wells. \"Did you just threaten to kick their... A-WORDS? That is truly barbaric of you, I am sorry to say! Please compose yourself and watch your language, for I may have to report you to our superior officer for vicious threats upon fellow gentlemen!\"\n\nReginald sat confused and stared at Wells as he beamed back at him with horror upon his face. Silence fell upon them for a good few moments until Reginald broke the silence.\n\n\"But sir... you just called them devils\"\n\n\"THAT IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT! That was said out of healthy competition with my fellow man! You- you used...\" Wells paused, checking around the two of them cautiously before whispering \"... a curse word!\"\n\nReginald, perplexed to say the least, dumbfounded and left slack-jawed, couldn't say another word out of sheer confusion.\n\n\"Now Reginald, I will keep my mouth quiet about this verbal attack on a fellow gentleman, as maybe you did not know that that was a cruel thing to say- kicking their.... A-words...- but please, I beg of you as your friend, as your comrade- as your fellow man, please- do not speak such rot again!\"\n\n\"...o-okay\" murmured Reginald, who then looked at the ground in disbelief.\n\nSeveral minutes of silence followed, until it was broken by the returning Barnleby, wearing a spare coat given to him by a man he truly admired.\n\n\"Ah, hello lads, I am back and-\" Barnleby froze, looking straight ahead upon several men crossing trenches, 3 to be exact. He squinted to focus his vision before yelling out. \n\n\"Hello good sirs! Might I ask how you lads are on this fine day?\"\n\n\"Ah, we are doing excellent chum, thank you for asking. Tis quiet on the front currently, well, until we came upon you!\" Bellowed the man in the middle, a gargantuan smile slathered across his broad face. He waved excitedly as he replied, happy to come across such a well mannered fellow. \"How are you, sir? Have you any comrades with you? It looks like we may have to fight you as the rules of war demand, but we shan't fight you on unfair terms where one is unmatched!\"\n\n\"You are a true gentleman sir, and I tip my hat to you!\" Yelled Barnleby, bowing in response. \n\n\"Ah, yes he does have two fine companions with him sir!\" Wells came out from his trench. \"Hello to you gentlemen, lovely to meet you! My name is Sir Wells! This fine man whom I'm sure you have already had the pleasure of meeting is Barnleby!\"\n\n\"Ah, Barnleby and Sir Wells, tis lovely to meet you two!\" Shouted the man.\n\n\"Reginald, come say hello to these fine gentleman, we have the pleasure of their company and we shan't be rude as to not introduce ourselves!\" Said Wells.\n\n\"Oh... um, yeah- yes sir, at once\".\n\nReginald stood up from his position cautiously, fearing the men would suddenly break their demeanor and start firing their rifles.\n\n\"Um, hello!\" Yelled Reginald, while nervously waving.\n\nThe three men all waved back enthusiastically, eager to meet their competition. The man in the middle spoke once again\n\n\"Apologies sir, might we have your name?\"\n\n\"Uh, ah... Im Reginald\"\n\n\"Ah, lovely to meet you sir! I am Mister Baxter, on my right is Sir Taffles, and to my left is George Hoff! Again, lovely to meet you three!\"\n\n\"Tis truly an honor!\" Shouted Hoff.\n\n\"Likewise good sirs!\" Barnleby exclaimed, heading into the trench and into position\"\n\n\"Okay, shall we start this then?\" Shouted Wells\"\n\n\"Aye sir, we shall get into position!\" Replied Baxter. \"Come on lads, we shall have a fight on our hands, and may it be a brilliant one!\"\n\nAs Wells and his boys got ready to engage the enemy, Reginald questioned the order of battle.\n\n\"So... how are we gonna do this? Should we just charge in? Should I flank left while you provide cover? How are we doing this?\"\n\n\"Good heavens, no Reginald!\" Scoffed Wells. \"We take turns of course! One of us stands while one of them has his turn to try and shoot us! A fair chance is given to all, we're no bloody savages!\" Barnleby snickered at Reginalds lack of combat experience.\n\n\"Oi, Reginald, that is prepostourous! Charging in like neanderthals and try to kill them before they kill us!\" He continued chuckling, causing a rage to brew inside Reginald. \"Thats just- that's just silly!\"\n\n\"Aye, tis Barnleby, but give the lad a break, tis his first time on the field! Before we know it, he will be an accomplished soldier like us, true gentlemen of the battlefield!\" Wells paused \"Ah, gentlemen, would you like to go first?\" He Shouted across the field.\n\n\"Ah, how kind of you sir! Yes, it would be terribly dimwitted of us not to take you up on such a generous offer!\" Laughed Baxter, with his men chuckling beside him.\n\n\"Aha, right so!\" Wells retorted. \"Now, who shall you like to have a shot at first?!\"\n\nThere was a slight pause, seconds of cold silence. The air was still, and Reginald nervously awaited their answer.\n\n\"How about that fine lad Barnleby? I'd look wager against him!\" Hoff said.\n\nBarnleby stood up bravely, awaiting the shot from the enemies rifle. \n\nHoff Shouted once again.\n\"Good luck sir!\"\n\nHe readied his rifle, aimed and... FIRE! Seconds later, the smoke cleared and there stood Barnleby, untouched by lead.\n\n\"Good try sir, now tis my go!\" Said Barnleby, proud he lived through his 12th shooting attempt.\n\nHoff stood up, closing his eyes as he reached his height. \n\n\"I am ready!\"\n\nBarnleby aimed steadily at his opponent, letting several seconds pass before he finally squeezed the trigger, firing his rifle, sending a ball of hot lead towards his target.\n\nThe smoke cleared, and when it did, no one stood in Hoffs place.\n\nBaxter broke the silence yet again\n\n\"A fine shot sir! Hoho, it appears you killed him instantly! He will be remembered and you sir should be commended for such a fine shot, bravo!\" Barnleby bowed graciously in response to Baxter, who's sportsmanship was very well intact.\n\nHe paused before shouting, announcing it was his groups' turn.\n\nBaxter bellowed \"Ah, my lad Taffles here would like to have a shot at your chap Reginald, if that is agreeable.\"\n\n\"Ah, splendid choice lads! Alright Reginald, stand tall and make us proud sir!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, but you're fuckin kidding, right?\" Groaned Reginald\n\n\"Egads sir, what has gotten into you lately?\"Exclaimed Sir Wells, absolutely appalled by his comrades choice in words. Barnleby gasped and sat there in horror.\n\n\"Here's what we need to do, just storm over their trench, stab em', shoot em, beat them, and kill the-\"\n\n\"REGINALD I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR SHENANIGANS!\" Screamed Wells, angrily. \"Now I am sorry that I have raised my voice, but it seems that you have forgotten common etiquette and manners. I deeply regret this, but you have forced my hand! I will have to... tell on you... now please, do your duty and stand sir!\"\n\n\"FINE\" Screamed Reginald. He stood angrily, meeting the gaze of two bewildered men in the other trench.\n\n\"DO IT\" He screamed \"FUCKING DO IT!\"\n\nTaffles shook, reluctantly pulling the trigger, closing his eyes as he did so. When his eyes opened there stood Reginald, his face red with anger.\n\n\"A fine shot indeed, but it appears you have missed!\" Barnleby shouted, still shaken by his comrades' uncouth words. \n\n\"Reginald, please calm down la-\" Wells was cut off by an enraged Reginald\n\n\"NO, FUCK THIS, FUCK YOU WELLS, FUCK YOU BARNLEBY, AND FUCK YOU PUSSIES ON THE OTHER SIDE! YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF STUPID BITCHES, AND I'M GOING TO FUCKING GET SHIT DONE!\"\n\nReginald grabbed his rifle, climbed atop the trench and stormed towards his enemies, shouting curses all the while, ignoring pleas from his comrades, and to the screams and protests of his prey. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Really sorry about that!\" John shouted over the din of gunfire. \"Hope that didn't hurt too much!\"\n\n\"Hey, no problem man!\" His victim called back. \"I was about to do the same to you, so who am I to complain, right?\"\n\n\"Thanks for being so understanding. I really appreciate that.\" John called while sliding another magazine into his rifle and hitting the bolt release. \"Hope a medic gets to you quick!\"\n\n\"Yeah, he's on his way! Would you mind holding fire? I'd rather not let him get hit before he can help me.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah! No problem dude! Hang in th-\" His reply was cut short by a loud snap as a bullet shot over his head and embedded itself in the wall behind him.\n\n\"Oh Crap!\" Called a new voice. \"So, SO sorry about that! I didn't mean to interrupt you!\"\n\n\"Hey it's no problem, buddy! This is war after all!\" John called back with a wary grin.\n\n\"That it is. It looks like we're setting up for a bayonet charge over here, by the way. It cool if we come over?\"\n\nJohn shrugged and drew his bayonet, \"Yeah, sure I guess.\" He called out as the blade connected with his C7's bayonet lug with a satisfying click. \"Whenever you guys are ready!\"\n\n\"Thanks man, see you soon!\"\n\nJohn shifted to his left and rested the barrel of his rifle on the edge of the ruined wall of the Parliament Building. Above him the ironically named \"Peace Tower\" began to chime noon. The red maple leaf flag atop the tower fluttered in the smoke clogged air.\n\nA dozen figures in blue jerseys leaped out of cover at the bottom of the hill. In unison, they shouted their fearsome battle cry.\n\n\"GO LEAFS GO!\" They roared.\n\n\"SENS RULE!\" John shouted back, and opened fire.\n\nedit forgot a line I had intended to move.", "Nobody ran, they simply walked. Arthur T. Hevlinsworth, the respected and awed general rode atop his horse, which was trotting rather peacefully. Many tales were told about Arthur, and all held him in truly high esteem. It was said that he had once removed an enemy soldier from the field of battle, bought him lunch, paid a sizable amount towards his children's tuition, taught him how to play the cello, and then promptly lopped off his head. He was so skilled in the art of civil combat that he spent less time on the battlefield than he did in high class smoking lounges reading dramatic novellas to enemy orphans. Any soldier who came across him, was greeted with a polite \"good day\" and a tip of the hat. Truly Mr. Hevlinsworth was the gentlest of gentlemen that fought for the Brits.\n\nOpposite him on the bloodless field of battle was Harold von Kellhamut, a German general of incredibly high class. The ornamental spikes that adorned his shoulders had been filed down to harmless nubs, and his walk was almost lazy. He had spent the last three months learning conversational English so that he may speak to enemy soldiers with ease. It had payed off as last week, in the Battle of the Wonderful Pond That You Really Must See, he had read a delightful poem to a young British Sergeant who almost immediately upon hearing it, surrendered his forces and his life savings. Truly these two Titans of War were destined to face each other since the war began.\n\nUpon reaching the center of the battlefield, everyone stopped, the tension was palpable among the throngs of young soldiers. Arthur and Harold came face to face, and both reached out their hands, as was customary. Arthur was the first to act. He called over a group of his officers, who produced a table, two chairs, and a full chess set. Harold was swift with his recovery, he placed a full packet of biscuits and a fine, aged brandy onto the table. Each man sat down opposite the other and their eyes locked.\n\nHarold spoke. \"Your mustache is impeccably groomed, sir! Tell me, do you cut it yourself?\"\n\nArthur was taken aback, but only briefly, by this incredible compliment. \"Yes sir I do!\" He said pleasantly, \"However brilliant my mustache may be, it was a wise move of you to not cover that strong jaw of yours with whiskers. May I say that it is magnificent?\"\n\nClearly these two men were evenly matched.\n\nThe pleasantries continued for some time, the two armies stood in complete awe. Eventually, and gracefully, Harold transitioned the conversation to the topic of Chess, whereupon they each politely declined the other's offer to go first. After an hour of talking each other up, Arthur submitted, as was polite in Harold's culture. They played each other to a stalemate, neither taking a single piece, until inevitably the biscuits were gone and the brandy drained. \n\nAnd since the day had grown long, they both decided to retire to their respective homes, and planned to meet tomorrow at the local cafe. Months passed like this, neither Harold or Arthur able to out class the other, and truly it was inevitable. Two years after that fateful meeting on the field of Incredibly Civil War, the two married. Their whirlwind romance lasted till the ends of their lives. They adopted 17 impoverished children together, each of which grew to be a dignified member of high class society. They brokered a peace treaty between their warring nations, and the peace lasted long after their lives ended. They donated their considerable fortunes to medical science in the pursuit of a cure for cancer. It was rather ironic really then that Harold fell ill with lung cancer.\n\nNext to his deathbed sat Arthur, tears welling in his eyes as he looked upon his compatriot in life, now shriveled with disease. Harold reached his hands out and clasped Arthur's in them. \"My love,\" he said, his voice barely audible over the silence of the room. \"My time is nearing. I can say, that thanks to you, I have lived without regrets. These moments that approach, they are my last.\"\n\nArthur choked upon the lump in his throat, regained some of his composure, then said, \"Polite till the end I see, a true gentlemen you always were. I only wish our time together could have been longer.\" \n\n\"Fear not Arthur, for you will be with me one day. Now, I wish to leave this world as civilly as I can, will you do me that honor?\"\n\nArthur nodded. There was a moment of stillness, and then he ran Harold through with his sword. Harold gasped and moved no more. Arthur, champion of politeness had won his battle. But at what cost? The Hell of war was never more apparent to him.\n\nEdit: Cuz spelling", "#Title: Jolly Good War\n\n\"Pardon me, I do believe I've stabbed you.\" \n\n\"Quite all right for I had intended to stab you first.\" \n\n\"It's only right. It's only right.\" \n\nThe dialogue within the warzone was not the brutish hateful speech of traditional battles, but the genteel sort. Thousands upon thousands of soldiers were engaged in this armed conflict. The world had reached a point where everybody had agreed that, although they could kill one another from a distance and without a conversation, it would be more civil and productive if they fought in close quarters and spoke with one another as they went about the murder. Many a conflict was resolved quite quickly that way, people got to know where the other was coming from. The world was also several centuries prior re-conquered by Great Britain after the British accidentally invented the best war robots, so most new nations warring with one another spoke good English. The war robots had recently been made illegal once again. This particular war was a Civil War between a rebel faction and the traditional genteel republic of the Even Newer Great Britain that ruled the world. \n\nOne soldier shouted his apologies as he shot a man in the side of the head. Just before the man fell over in a heap, he put his hands into a thumbs up. \n\nTwo soldiers got involved in a hand-to-hand skirmish. The battle went to the ground, and evolved into a beautiful battle of wits in jiu jitsu. They complimented one another on their counter moves. Then, the one man got the other into a hold. The other man tapped out, but that wouldn't work in war. The man in power spoke his piece. \n\n\"Before I kill you I would like to ennumerate the reasons why, ahem,\" The man pulled out a list with his one hand not performing the choke hold. \"\"First of all, the rebel leader assassinated one of our senators without an apology preceding the assassination, nor a proper conversation. Secondly, you rebels have eaten some of our country's finest delicacies without the proper etiquette at the dinner table (you know your manners and we have videos to prove it, apologies for recording you). Thirdly, recently your rebel leaders and our noble leaders had a quick conversation at a big table with a bunch of people around snapping photographs of them. Our leader sneezed and your leaders did not say bless you. Or rather they did, but only after a protracted pause in which our leaders started at them in wonder at how they had no manners. Fourthl-\"\n\nThe man was punched in the side of the face by a soldier passing by. It wasn't kind to kill somebody explaining the reasons for the war, it was one of the new rules of war. A lone knockout punch would suffice. \n\n\"I wanted him to shut up,\" said the rebel soldier as he got up and rubbed his neck. Then he dropped his head. \"But I felt bad about wanting him to shut up, he was so kind.\" \n\n\"He was kind indeed, he's still alive.\" \n\n\"Yes good thing there. Hope we can get this war over with.\" \n\nThen somebody went around in a hovercar with a megaphone. \n\n\"THE WAR IS OVER THE WAR IS OVER THE REBELS HAVE APOLOGIZED FOR NOT SAYING BLESS YOU AND WE'VE DECIDED TO FORGIVE ALL ELSE FOR WE ARE KIND PEOPLE NOT QUICK TO ANGER AND QUICK TO FORGIVE AND QUICK TO HAVE TEA LET US UNITE ONCE MORE GREAT PEOPLE OF EVEN NEWER GREAT BRITAIN.\" \n\n\"Oh TEA!\" rang the crowd in unison, rebels and republic soldiers alike. People stopped mid-fight and began to shake hands with their enemies across from them.\nThe people who were still dying died with smiles on their faces. Ultimately nobody could quite remember why they were fighting, and weren't willing to keep fighting to give each other actual reasons to continue the war. \n\nThe country was re-united. Handshakes abounded." ]	[ 2, 2, 5, 14 ]	[ "1453497831", "1453507788", "1453487064", "1453496536" ]
	[WP] They told you not to tap the glass.	6	[ "They told you not to tap the glass. They told you monsters, horrible things would come out. The dome that surrounded the only society humans had known for decades. Maybe centuries, but nobody knew.\nYou were only taught basic science, basic math, and how to read. Writing was banned, history was banned, but society knew not of those powers, for nobody mentioned them. The only thing you knew was: Don't tap the glass. Nobody was ever curious why. They all followed orders that the leader with no name told them. They trusted him. They knew nothing.\nYour 'area' was a technological wasteland. Green items with connecting wire things lay on the floor. Broken glass came out of a metal frame in the dumpster, awaiting a garbage man that never came. Nobody ever went outside. Except for you.\nYou tapped the glass. The only rule you knew of. The only rule you had the ability to break. And you broke it. Curiosity overwhelmed your mind. You were the only one conscious to the world.\nYou knew that you were human.\nThe glass cracked. 'Surely', you thought, 'if they really wanted you to not tap the glass they would have made it out of stronger material.' Your thoughts led to another and you tapped again. the glass started breaking, and you could hear water rushing on the other side, the only natural thing realized by humans for centuries. A crowd began to gather around you. One more tap. The glass broke.\nIt rained over the last of humanity like deadly hail. A voice came from the speakers. \"Attention members.\" The leader called, \"#1982 has broken the glass.\" You glance down at the tattoo on your wrist, stating your official number. A growl came from where nobody had ever been. \"Now you must end up like the rest.\" The growls became louder. \"We tried to protect you.\" The monsters came upon humanity. Screams were heard from around the area. A leaping monster that was half human half lion pounced on you. It was all black and slimy with tendrils coming out of its back. It started ripping you to shreds and the leader laughed on the speaker. \"But you know how it is...\" You screeched in pain as you mutated into a monster, ready to kill any human, and eventually any living being.\n\"Curiosity kills the cat!\"\nThe speakers went offline.\nSo did humanity.\n", "They told you not to tap the glass. They told you of the consequences. Of the misfortunes. The losses. They made sure it was painted well. Hell, they know how to play the game. It could, no, would affect the closest things to you. \n\nThat was six months ago….and six months can feel like an eternity.\n\nWhat's with this glass anyway? That is the question, right? To tap, not to tap. One cliche question after another. New day, new directives. Conformity. Better listen, Big Brother knows best. We're too afraid to act on our own authority. Can't accept the consequences. Well, the hell with that. I know whats best.\n\nYeah I tapped it. And nothing came of it. Liars. I happily embraced their reverse psychology. My life was shit anyways. Nothing to lose. My wife and I were on the fritz; kids no longer saw me as a loving father. Too much time at work, I guess. A job that I stood just enough of to get me away from that place. So yeah, I tapped the glass. What consequences could I not take, right? I had already lost everything anyone could ever hold close to them.\n\nThey told me that was what it was called on the street. Methamphetamine. Yeah, that was it. They said it would turn my life inside out. They said it would tear away the closest things in my life. Nah, I already did that. Liars. As I sat outside the headquarters of the LAPD waiting for my shift to start, I reached inside my coat pocket and felt the cold pipe for the first time that day. The coldness of it all I could not escape. Exhilarating. The freezing winter night could not keep that drip of sweat from rolling down my face. As I pulled my last piece from a little baggy and placed it in my pipe, I thought about how everything was much better now. I had won. Liars." ]	[ 2, 3 ]	[ "1453618906", "1453597343" ]
	[Wp] The first man ever to become pregnant, is pregnant with the son of satan.	3	[ "\"I can't believe you actually got me pregnant,\" James groused, his hands folded as he glared at the ten-foot-tall demon standing in front of him. Satan actually looked rather cowed by his anger; his shoulders were slouched, and the angry flames that usually flared around his head had dimmed to a flickering light. \"I told you I didn't want to have any kids!\"\n\n\"But...\" Satan's foot scuffed at the ground awkwardly. \"It's... I didn't know...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, apparently your hellseed is so potent you managed to impregnate one of the stem cells floating around in my body.\" James rolled his eyes, gesturing to the demon-child currently incubating in a tube beside them both. They'd had it removed with a mixture of science and magic almost as soon as the child had been discovered; James' body didn't have the facilities to raise a baby. \"Do you know how much this is going to cost us in terms of childcare? You're lucky I love you.\" \n\n\"Look, babe, I'm sorry,\" Satan pleaded. \"There hasn't been an actual relationship between a demon and a human before now. I had no idea this would happen - nobody did.\"\n\n\"I know that,\" James grumbled. \"I'm just venting, you know I am. Do you have any idea how strange it is to feel something wiggle around inside of you, then be told it's my son? Christ.\" \n\n\"So... you're not actually mad at me?\" Satan asked, his tone hopeful. James sighed, giving the demon a friendly punch in the shoulder.\n\n\"No, hon, I'm not.\" He offered a faint smile. \"What's done is done, and I actually look forward to seeing you as a bumbling father figure for once. You're going to have to concede one thing to me, though.\"\n\n\"What is it?\" Satan asked, wary of the mischievous gleam in James' eyes. The human grinned.\n\n\"We'll be making Jesus the godfather.\" \n\nSatan groaned, the sound loud enough to shake the foundations of the house. The baby hadn't even been fully incubated, and already James was making dad jokes. He was going to be in for a tough year, he could tell. Maybe he'd be able to hide out in Hell for a little bit...", "Disclaimer: Meant as comedy. I'm so sorry.\n\n----\n\n\"So you can understand how this is all rather... complicated?\" The Pope asked me, before reaching for a glass of wine. \"There are a lot of ways to approach this issue.\" \n\nHe gestured towards another glass, next to the bottles that lined the serving trays around us. I shook my head. I'd already politely declined the offer, my internet searching indicating that iit was bad for the baby. Instead, I sipped my tea, nodding along with the conversation.\n\n\"Well, I didn't expect things to work out this way either.\" I replied.\n\nThe Pope seemed agreeable enough- much more so than any of the other world leaders who had come to speak with me, although the rest of the people in the room were more than anxious about my presence. That was likely do to the portals from hell that kept trying to rip through the fabric of reality- or perhaps those were just contractions? I was all rather new to this, but I don't think I was nearly far along enough for that.\n\n\"You comprehend the dangers are more often remedied before they can truly manifest, then...\" He leaned back upon the seat, glass of win still in hand, as he drew another sip. He let that hang between a question, and a statement.\n\n\"Well, I really am not sure, exactly what's so difficult to understand.\" I leaned in, trying to ignore the pressure on my hips. \n\n\"But I'm most definitely keeping it- I've always wanted a kid.\"\n\nThe Pope spit his wine in a flabbergasted spray across the table, before waving his hand to slow the panicked guards. I tried my best to hide a smile behind the glass now at my own lips. Green tea didn't sum up this experience well, but it was what I had.\n\n\"You can't be serious!\" \n\nHis tone had shifted from calm and controlled, pushing more into anger- though refined. His face showed little, as he wiped his mouth with an embroidered napkin. After all this pleasantry, the mask was slipping.\n\n\"The very spawn of Satan is-\"\n\n\"Yes- and?\" I cut him off, impatiently waving my free hand.\n\n\"Well, he'll bring about disasters we can only imagine! Fires will rain from the sky- the armies of heaven will be forced to descend upon the mortal plane and do battle with the forces of hell, and the dead will walk this earth-\"\n\n\"I'm actually very fond of the horror genre.\"\n\n\"You- You! Do you even comprehend the dangers that will come of this?\" His mask had certainly fallen off now, his voice raised to a shout, his face contorting in rage; all friendliness gone, and replaced with severity.\n\n\"You must destroy it! Before it can enter the world- you must destroy it!\"\n\nI sat my glass down, softly upon the grand and wood-worked table. With an effort, I continued ignoring the twitches that came from the obscene numbers of bodyguards, now present in the room. Slowly, as to not startle them, I picked up my fedora, fitting it more snugly across my oily scalp.\n\n\"Well, here I was thinking that you were all pro-life.\"\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2 ]	[ "1453604655", "1453602263" ]
	[WP] You are 92 years old, on the brink of death. Your doctor says there is a new brain transplant procedure if you're willing to try it. However the only available recipient is a recently deceased 6 year old child's body.	9	[ "Sweetness is knowing \n\nThat though you're alone \n\nSomeone can remember your skin \n\n. \n\nBlind as beauty was when she called \n\nCemetaries no longer hold my wounds \n\nDeeply drawn into my forehead \n\n. \n\nOnce glistened like silver dew \n\nKisses from wrinkled lips \n\nWondering if I will die soon \n\n. \n\nGone to grace and goodness \n\nBut pulled away from these sins \n\nAnd into a child \n\n. \n\n\"Are you ready?\" \n\nTrembling hands clenched \n\nI wonder if I can swim yet ", "So which is it Clive?, Yes Mr Warren \"death or transplant?''.\nI looked up at my wife, her wrinkly face looking down at me with tears in her eyes. \"where would i go...if proceed with the....surgery?\" \"meaning would i be under custody of my wife or would the child's parents have a 92 year old son? \n\"your wife, the child's parents didn't make it either\" the doctor said\". \nThe room was silent, waiting for my answer. My mouth was dry, and body frail i could barely move. ''92 years...92 years on this planet and over half spent with Mary\". I coupled Marys hand as i continued to speak.\" 63 years we've spent together that's enough for one lifetime don't cha think? \" I suppose that's a no then\". The doctor walked out.I lied back on the bed releasing my wife's hand as she sat and cried silently, I looked out the window the birds and sunshine to see as now, now I am at peace.I closed my eyes...blackness.\n\n\nI was woken up, I'm in a different room. My eyes, i couldn't believe my sight they haven't been this great in a long time.I looked down and the bed was much larger then my one before in the other room.That's when i looked across and saw my reflection...I had stitches across my forehead, I was a child.", "Amanda stood waiting on the subway platform, looking at the time on her phone. It was only a minute later than the last time she checked. She let out a sigh and considered if she should sit down. Just as she decided, she heard a low rumbling in the underground tunnel. Her eyes lit up as she saw a train speeding its way toward her stop.\n\nThe train slowed down quickly and opened its doors. A rush of people exited swiftly and Amanda waited patiently. Once she found an opening, she noticed a small boy walking out at the end of the large line of departing passengers.\n\nSomething seemed wrong. Amanda had an odd suspicion that the boy was alone. She watched as the two people in front of him turned left, but he turned right instead.\n\n\"Wait!\" she yelled, running after the young child. She grabbed him by the shoulder and knelt down to reach his level. \"Where are you parents?\" she asked calmly. \"Are you lost?\"\n\n\"Hrmmph,\" the boy exhaled loudly. \"Let go of me, miss,\" he said. \"I'm not a child.\"\n\nAmanda took a moment and then let go. \"Oh, yes, of course, you're a big boy,\" she said. \"I'm just wondering if you got separated from your parents?\"\n\nThe boy shook his head. \"I don't have parents, ma'am, I'm ninety-two years old.\"\n\n\"Wha-what?\" asked Amanda.\n\n\"I had my mind put into this body,\" the boy answered. \"Haven't you ever heard of that new brainy plant thing? I did that.\"\n\n\"Oh, the brain transplant procedure that was in the news?\" asked Amanda, still in disbelief.\n\n\"Yes, that's what I said!\" the boy responded. \"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get going.\"\n\nAmanda stood in shock as the boy walked away toward the subway stairs.\n\n\"Billy!\" a voice called from behind Amanda. \"There you are!\"\n\nA woman ran passed and scooped up the boy from the ground.\n\nAmanda stepped forward. \"Wait, so he really is a boy?\" she asked. \"He's not a ninety-two year old man?\"\n\nThe woman grimaced and carried the boy with her toward the direction she entered. As the two passed Amanda, the young boy gave her a wink." ]	[ 1, 3, 6 ]	[ "1453673909", "1453671640", "1453675788" ]
	[WP] You awake naked, handcuffed to a bed with a woman laying on top of you. Only one catch... She's Dead.	25	[ "I looked down. \n\"Oh fuck, not again.\" I say out loud and go back to sleep. This'll have to wait till later, I'm tired. ", "Waking up to the taste of stale beer vomit in your mouth is bad enough, but not being able to wipe whatever’s caked on is even worse.\n\n“Augh, bright,” was all I could croak out once I managed to open my eyes to see where the hell I was and why I couldn’t move my arm. I looked up to see a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs and a pair of bruised wrists. My head was pounding too hard to even consider thinking about last night, but I’m guessing it was pretty great.\n\nLooking down left me looking at a pretty hot redhead, from what I could see of her. The sheets were mostly off her bare back and her head was buried somewhere next to my shoulder. \n\n“Rise and shine, sweetheart. I need to get home before my lunch or my wife is going to kill me.” I tried jiggling around a bit, eventually using my foot to nudge her as she was face-down on the mattress. Jesus, she was a heavy sleeper.\nI didn’t have time for this but I also didn’t want to piss her off or she might leave without unlocking me, so I did the next best thing: I gave her a little morning poke. I’m pretty limber, not to toot my own horn, so I managed to get her lined up using my legs and, well, got to waking her up. \n\nAs soon as I got in there, though, something didn’t feel right. It wasn’t reacting at all, and worse yet, it was cold. \n\nMy eyes went wide and I used my legs to pull her down as best I could, but she was so damn limp. Finally, as her face came down across the length of my arm, I felt her leave a trail behind. I nearly threw up at the sight of it. \n\n“Holy shit. Holy shit! Fuck fuck fuck.” Thinking doesn’t work too well when you’re trapped under a dead girl you just necrophilia’d. It’s even harder when you’re this hung over. I looked around the room for anything that could at least get me out of these damn handcuffs within foot distance, but no luck. The only chance I saw was to get to standing position on the bed, climb behind the bed, and push it around until I could find something to get the cuffs off. Also it was 10 am, and I needed to be out of here before maid service came through.\n\nWith enough wiggling and body turning, I managed to get the redhead onto the floor. I turned completely over and, from kneeling position, managed to stand up at the head of the bed. Slowly, I climbed over the headboard and, from standing position behind it, began pushing my way forward, just in time for my phone to start ringing on the nightstand. \n\nFYI, answering a phone with your toe to speakerphone is hard.\n\n“Hey man,” came my friend Kyle’s voice. “Wiiiiild party last night. Did you get home okay?”\n\n“Actually,” I said, trying to sound as non-freaked out as I actually was,” I ended up crashing at a hotel. Do you mind giving me a ride back to wherever it is that I left my car? I don’t want to roll up in a cab or Trish will get pissed.” \n\n“Yeah, man, no prob. Where did you end up? Are you alone?” The last part was asked half-jokingly.\n\n“Heh, yeah I’m alone. Not another living soul in here to give me shit for being this hung over. I’m at…” I looked for some kind of stationary. “I’m at the Holiday Inn on 12th. And do you mind coming up to my room? I think I sprained something and I can’t walk very well.”\n\n“Not walking straight, huh?”\n\n“Shut up, man.”\n\n“Be there in 15. Peace.”\n\nI didn’t know what to do. What would I tell him when he got here? What would we do about the body? Did I do this? No, I couldn’t have. I’m a pretty wild drunk, but not deadly. The last thing I could remember, painfully, was the boys taking my wallet because “drinks were on them, tonight” and tossing it to the bartender. Maybe shit got out of hand. Maybe it was an accident. I spent the next fifteen minutes trying to figure out what room this was so I could tell Kyle when he called again. Thankfully, I found the card key sleeve where it was written in Sharpie. Somehow I had managed to unlock the door with my feet even though the bed didn’t fit down the miniature hall from the bedroom to the door. \n\nI heard a knock and instantly was scared shitless that it might be the maid. Kyle hadn’t called, yet.\n\n“Rich? You in there? I hope the 300-year old woman at the front desk sent me to the right room or this is going to get reeeeeeal awkward.”\n\n“Uh yeah, I’m in here. Door’s unlocked.” I could only imagine Kyle’s surprise when he walked in to me standing buck-naked in front of the rear-side of a headboard. \n \n“What the fuck?!” He quickly closed the door behind him.\n\n“Dude, I need your help.”\n\n“Yeah, no shit. What the hell did you do? Shit! Was this with the redhead from the bar?” He clearly remembered more than I did about last night. \n\n“Yes, but… there’s more.” I gestured further into the bedroom. The bed was blocking his line of sight to the dead girl I had toppled onto the floor.\n\n“She still here? Dude you are so f—.“ It doesn’t take much to figure out why someone would be lying face down on the floor at such an unnatural angle. \n“You have to help me,” I pleaded. \n\n“Did you do it?” He was dead serious, now. Kyle was my best friend since high school for two reasons: he could party like a 6th year college senior and he could take care of serious business like a 6th year associate turned partner.\n \n“No! I… I don’t remember anything, but I am positive I couldn’t have done this.”\n\nKyle stood there, brow furrowed. “Well first, we need to call the police.”\n\n“No. No! I can’t get mixed up in this. What about Trish?”\n\n“A: You’re already in this. B: Trish is going to find out no matter what, since they have cameras all over this place and they have footage of you two coming in here. Cops will be involved no matter what, so you’d better get proactive about this, buddy.”\n\nHe was right, and I knew it. “Fine, but can you help me get dressed at least?”\n\n“Do it yourself! I’m not touching a guy’s bare anything that’s been under a dead girl all night.” \n \n“Dude,” I said, yanking at the handcuffs. Kyle reached over and released them instantly.\n\n“You got lucky. Those novelty ones usually have a safety release on them. I’m surprised you didn’t look for that first before you dragged the whole fucking bed around. Oh, and by the way,” he said, tossing me my wallet. “You left this at the bar last night. Maybe you can use it to pay off one of these cops from throwing you in jail. Now hurry up and get dressed.”\n\nI took the next few minutes to dress myself while Kyle stepped outside to call the police. I looked back at the redhead on the floor for a few moments. I didn’t even know her name, or remember having sex with her. I’ve gotten drunk before, but this was some blackout shit or something. How could a girl have died on top of me and me not remember it? She was dead and on me all night and I slept through that? I continued putting on my pants, thinking about whether or not I stunk from dead girl, allowing myself to laugh at Kyle’s comment earlier about not wanting to touch me… Even though I never told Kyle about being under her all night. That wasn’t weird, though, since it’s just a turn of phrase. \n\nI picked up my wallet off the counter to stick into my pants and casually opened it up to make sure everything was still in there when I noticed one credit card not in the slot I usually stick it. Trying to rationalize, I figured I probably put it back awkwardly last night after paying for… nothing. I didn’t have my wallet all night. So how did I pay for the hotel room? Did the dead girl pay for it? How did Kyle know what room to find me in if my name wasn’t registered to the room?\n\nI walked towards the door and put my ear up to it. Kyle was still on the phone with the police, but his voice sounded weird, like it was panicked. It was muffled, but eventually one word came through clearer than the rest.\n\n“…murdered…”\n\nWhat the fuck? I was freaking out again and I knew I had to get out of there. Kyle had left his keys on the counter inside, luckily, so I pocketed them and headed for the window. Luckily the room was on the first floor with a small outside patio. I quickly and quietly jumped the fence outside and bolted for Kyle’s car as soon as I saw it. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but like hell I’m going to stick around while someone calls me a murderer.\n\nAs I calmly pulled out of the parking lot and made my way towards my neighborhood, I noticed four patrol cars zip past me and towards the Holiday Inn. I didn’t have much time, but I had to talk to my wife before everything hit the fan.\n", "I'm learning a lot about myself today.\n\nFirst of all, apparently I like women. Most of the time coming out of the closet takes time and patience and support, as well as rigorous self-exploration. For me, I confirmed this when I awoke to a woman on top of me.\n\nI also apparently enjoy rough sex. The woman is covered in various bite marks, scratches and soon to be bruises... well, they'll never be bruises judging by her lack of pulse.\n\nFinally, I'm trapped here. Not mentally, but physically. I am literally cuffed to the bed frame. Probably some sex act.\n\nI'm surprised that I can maintain this sort of calm. Maybe it's a reaction to adrenaline. Maybe I'm used to this sort of thing. Maybe, and I shudder to think about this, this isn't new to me.\n\nMy first thought is to escape. But how?\n\nI try and shift the dead woman off of me. Her body is somewhat stiff. She's been dead for several hours, at least. Her blonde hair gets in my mouth. I cough it out. The hair stinks of Herbal Essences coconut paradise.\n\nWhy do I know that? I'm not entirely sure. I roll her over, pushing her away with my thighs. \n\nI turn my attention the the handcuffs. The bed frame is old. Wrought iron. Purchased a decade ago from an old woman who had owned it since the last great war. Rusty now. The cuffs on the other hand, are shiny. I bought them at Kink Co's two days ago.\n\nMemories! Memories coming back to me. I must be hungover, because my head hurts.\n\nAnyways, this bed frame has a suspiciously rusty spot. I rub the chain against them. After what was probably about two hours, I managed to break them.\n\nI groan in relief, putting my arms in front of me. I've been like this for a while.\n\nNow for the key... where did I put the key? \n\n\"Looking for something?\" I hear a voice. \n\nI jump back as the door to my bedroom opens.\n\n\nA well dressed man steps through. He doesn't seem surprised to see me.\n\n\"Uh... I...\" I vigorously try and draw an explanation for the dead woman in my bed.\n\n\"I see your memories aren't fully back.\" the man tells me. He retrieves a shiny silver key out of his pocket. I should feel scared of this strange man, but he seems oddly familiar. \n\n\"Do I... know you?\" I ask him.\n\n\n\"Yeah. Give me your hands.\" \n\nI hold out my arms, and he unlocks the cuffs. My wrists are red.\"\n\n\"I need to put my... clothes on.\" I blink a few times. Time is starting to speed up, instead of this slow motion I've been stuck in.\n\n\"Her clothes on.\" the man corrects me.\n\n\"What? This is my apartment!\" I tell him. \"That's my closet.\"\n\nHe simply shakes his head no. I want him to leave, but I the same time I get the feeling he knows me more than I know myself... for now at least.\n\nI put on my comfiest jeans and a Black Sabbath tee shirt that shows off my barbed wire tattoo.\n\n\"I don't know why you picked this woman.\" the man shakes his head.\n\n\"What are you on about?\" I ask him, coming out of the closet.\n\n\"You're in New York City and this was the best you could do? Not even a starlet or some bored trophy wife?\"\n\n\"What are you...\"\n\n\"Come on. She's not your usual body.\"\n\nMy first reaction is to be confused. This man is crazy! But he's right. About what, I don't know.\n\n\"Hunh. Your memories are taking way longer than usual to come back. The woman must have been a fighter.\" he examines teeth marks on my hand. \"A biter, at the least.\"\n\n\"What's going on here?\" I ask him.\n\nThe man pauses for a second. He seems to be picking words carefully, but then dismisses a thought.\n\n\"Why don't you just look in the mirror?\" he asked.\n\nI look into the woman's makeup desk mirror. This face is definitely not mine. But it's familiar. \n\nOh god.\n\nI look back toward the bed. The woman has the same tattoo as me, same spot. Same bite marks on her hand. Same blonde hair washed by Herbal Essences coconut paradise. \n\n\"What the fuck.\" I gasp.\n\n\"Calm down.\" the man rolls his eyes. \"You're a succubi.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"A succubi. A demon of sex. Slut of the underworld and whatnot.\"\n\n\"Wait. I'm a- no. That's not right. I'm Julia Price from Connecticut. I moved her to be a professor of women's studies at NYU.\"\n\n\"That's the body you took's identity. Apparently you got a little lost when taking her identity.\"\n\n\"Um..\" how do you respond to something like that?\n\n\"Succubi don't have a true physical form. They appear as the type of person you'd crave most. My guess is that you'd gotten tired of not having an actual identity and you absorbed her life. All that's left of the actual Ms. Price is the shell.\"\n\n\"Are you saying I... killed her?\"\n\n\"Not just killed her. You took her identity. Her soul.\"\n\n\"Oh my god.\"\n\n\"The boss doesn't approve of us using that language.\"\n\n\"What. The. Fuck.\"\n\n\"That's better.\"\n\n\"How do you know all of this?\"\n\n\"I'm sent to track down demons like you. Ones who come back to life by stealing a soul. That's a big no-no. Violates pretty much one of the few rules that us demons hold sacred. Tamper with life, but don't take it away. That's cheating.\"\n\n\"...this is just a bad dream.\"\n\n\"No. It isn't.\"\n\n\"Shut up, Beelzebub!\"\n\n\"Ah. So you DO remember me.\"\n\n\"What? No I-\"\n\n\"Listen up, succubus.\" he tells me. \"I'm going to let you run around for a few weeks. You've been pretty loyal to Hell and this is a first offense, so I can turn a blind eye and let you be human.\"\n\nI don't respond. I have a headache.\n\n\"Just... don't turn into a good person. Then I have to ring up St. Peter and fill out a bunch of formworks for your soul, and...\"\n\n\"You have three weeks. Go to the beach. Have sex for fun and not for your job. Pet a puppy or eat a puppy or something. I don't know.\"\n\nThis doesn't feel right. I'm not as good-hearted as Julia, but I'm not some... demon either.\n\n\"Anyways, good luck. I'll be back in a while to check up on you.\"\n\n\"...okay.\" I'm practically speechless. \n\nBeelzebub slicks back his hair, and grabs Dead Julia off of the bed.\n\n\"I can probably use this, so I'm going to take it. Save you some trouble with the police.\" he grunts and lifts the dead body off of the bed. \"See you in a while.\" he disappears in. A puff of smoke.\n\nI sink back against the wall. I realize that I was clutching the handcuff so tightly that they outlined on my skin.\n\nSomething isn't right. The Julia in me is upset, distraught. The Succubi in me is also distraught. Something didn't go right when absorbing Julia's soul into me.\n\nWho am I, really?\n\nI decide that thinking about it any further isn't going to help. I get up and go to the desk, grabbing mine/Julia's keys. \n\nI leave the apartment, and step out into the sunny day. Who knows? Maybe I am human. Julia seems to like sunshine, and so do I. \n\nI walk toward the bus station, determined to put this time to good use.\n\n\n\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 21 ]	[ "1453753730", "1453743398", "1453737312" ]
	[WP] You wire money to a Nigerian Prince who's assets were previously frozen and needed help with legal fees. Turns out he's real, uses the money to stage a coup, and you're now wanted by the CIA.	29	[ "The IRS couldn't lay a finger on me. Anyone who had anything to ask me got a polite redirect to my lawyer and from there to my financial gnomes. Zeeman & Edwards had worked the tax code like a Stradivarius so far, and they didn't disappoint this time. They answered all the questions and showed the IRS all the paperwork, everything properly stamped, sealed, notarized, and signed. The IRS walked away collectively scratching their shiny, bullet-shaped heads like someone who thought they got the better end of the deal but was still walking home in the rain with nothing but their underwear.\n\nSkip forward a few more years. The four million dollar personal insurance stash I had pretty much doubled. I expanded by portfolio, building a couple of companies in construction and trucking. Even in a depression, stuff still needs to get around and stuff still needs to get built. \n\nI was living a damn good life. I had money to pay my bills, I had food on my table, I had a bed to sleep on, and I had more friends than enemies. Life was good. \n\nThen I got the email.\n\nAll of us get the email at some point in our lives. We all know it. There are variations on how it breaks down, and mine ended up like this: Sir, I need your assistance. I am so-and-so, representing Mr. VIP. Mr. VIP has Money in a bank account. Mr. VIP cannot access said account. Mr. VIP needs a third party to make a monetary deposit into a joint account so that Mr. VIP can transfer their Money from the inaccessible account into the joint account. Mr. VIP now has access to the Money, third party gets their money back, plus a small percentage of the Money. Everybody goes out for ice cream.\n\nRemember all those lottery winner pitfalls I avoided? Along with people begging or even straight-up demanding I give them money, scams are a way of life for lottery winners. Con artists tend to work fast, because lottery winners tend to go through their money like it was thermite going through an engine block. I had my share come around to try their luck, but with the pragmatism of my friends and lawyers, when the scammers found out that the money I had wasn't liquid enough or in assets that were easily sold, they quickly moved on. The success I had with my companies also bumped my unofficial personal blurb from 'lottery winner' to 'entrepreneur'. \n\nAnyway, the email. Yes, I was fully aware of the scam. Yes, my lawyers and I had just closed a sweet multi-state transport deal that involving four other trucking companies, three somewhat-minor railroads, and two small air freight carriers. Yes, I had more than a few beers in me at the time. Yes, ten thousand dollars is chump change to me. But I was feeling magnanimous, damn it. \n\nSo I did it. I didn't even ask any questions. I just replied back to The Honorable Harrison Okoduwa, Barrister, Esquire, etc., etc. asking where to send the money. I didn't expect reply a few minutes later with a bank routing number. In Trinidad and Tobago. Wait, what? Apparently, because of a generous interpretation of their laws, certain financial institutions in Trinidad have been established specifically for people who don't want a Swiss bank but want the same kind of stuff that Swiss banks are capable of doing. So, instead of yummy chocolate, fine timepieces, and pocket tool thingies with an incidental metal shiv that might qualify as a knife if squinted at sideways, you get awesome beaches, drinks in a plastic coconut with a little umbrella, and lots of sunscreen. Still drunk, I called up Ms. Rodriguez, who handles my 'incidentals' at Z & E, and asked her if I had any accounts in Trinidad.\n\nNo hesitation. \"Yes, sir. Two of them.\"\n\n\"Great. Wire ten grand to this account.\" I gave the routing number.\n\n\"This is unusual, sir. Do you want me to do this right away?\" \n\n\"I'm doing this as a personal favor for a friend.\" Well, not quite. But Mr. Okoduwa wasn't an enemy, was he? Judgement is always the first to go when one drinks. \"Check with Robert if there are any problems.\" Robert Michel van den Bos Edwards is the Edwards part of Z & E, but everyone knows him as Chucky. I have no idea why. During and after the unwanted IRS attention, \"Check with Robert\" was established as a code phrase to let Ms. Rodriguez know to make sure whatever needs to get done is done cleanly, and more important, quietly.\n\n\"I understand, sir. I'll take care of it.\"\n\nJust like that, I became a blip on the NSA's radar. An infinitesimal blip, but still a blip. This was going to change in the very near future.", "Day 70, ATE (After The Email)\nI found out what the NSA has code-named me. Apparently, I am \"Bankroll\". Hey, I didn't pick it. \n\nThe civil war in Nigeria is all the news these days, what with the coup that Emmanuel Akinrinade started three weeks ago. Two months ago, I had absolutely no replies to emails or calls and I was thinking, \"well, that's ten thousand down the drain.\" Then all of a sudden, Lagos is under attack and Akinrinade is pushing hard for Abuja.\n\nPresident Buhari has appealed for mediation from the United Nations, but he hasn't been heard from for the past three days. His last broadcast was from an obvious bomb shelter and he was in his shirtsleeves, dirty and sweaty and flanked by four huge bodyguards. The handheld video was grainy from bad light with occasional flickering that the armchair generals attributed to artillery impacting near whatever was supplying power.\n\nSay what you will, I think Akinrinade started the coup off brilliantly. The first inklings of conflict didn't even make international news. Power stations started going down, followed by seizures of the mostly government-run television and radio stations by heavily armed men. The few that stayed on the air reported fighting in Lagos and it's outskirts. Shortly after that, cell towers and internet began to go offline. Radio intercepts from shortwave and military transmissions relayed to the world that something big was going down. A few days later, refugees crossing the border into Benin reported tanks and helicopters heading northeast in a steady stream and had some video to back up their claims. \n\nI saw some of the smuggled footage. Thanks to Google, I was able to identify the military equipment. T-90s, with reactive armor and the new anti-warhead ADM. Century-series Kalashnikovs. Some older Hind-Ds, but there was a sprinkling of Ka-50s in some shots, even some heavy-lift Mi-26s. Where Akinrinade got the pilots for those, I have no idea. The troops looked fit, well-equipped, and motivated. And it seemed like Akinrinade had a lot of them. \n\nI watched the footage over and over, horrified. I might never know if I was the cause of this. I may have been one of dozens who sent money to Mr. Harrison Okoduwa. All he wanted was ten thousand dollars, and he would have access to seven BILLION dollars, of which I would receive one percent as a token fee for my assistance and, of course, the overwhelming gratitude of an entire nation.\n\nLike I said, I may have been one of dozens. But what if I wasn't? What if I was the only one to send money? My money may have started all of this.\nMy. Ten. Thousand. Lousy. Dollars.\n\nThis isn't the first time I've had a government agency after me, of course. I had won the lottery six years back. Two and a half million dollars. Not huge, as some lottery prizes go, but still a pretty chunk of cash. I avoided the usual lottery winner pitfalls and got an aggressive up-and-coming financial firm to manage my money. They diversified into international markets, read the trends, and picked winner after winner, both short and long term. I could have funded a small charity just on the dividends and interest. (I did.) Then, a couple of years back, I specified that I wanted four million dollars to remain as fairly liquid assets, either in gold or in currency, in a variety of safe deposit boxes in American and international banks. And none of them tied directly to me. With a wink and a nod, Zeeman & Edwards took twenty percent off the top and had done exactly that. \n\nThat was when the IRS came a-knockin'. They knew I had the cash. They just couldn't get their hooks into it. And that is something the IRS does not tolerate." ]	[ 1, 8 ]	[ "1453816258", "1453780550" ]
Your caravan is caught in a blizzard which renders your sensors useless. In your hurry to get the shelters up and everybody to safety, you hardly notice the earth trembling. Then you see it. A towering behemoth lurks into view through the swirling frigid ash. Running is no longer an option.	[WP]War left the world in an endless winter. Autonomous machines called "The Phage" roam the land aimlessly without a signal from the long dead factions that deployed them. You hunt the small ones for their power cells, but when a Terra Phage shows up on the sensors, you run.	26	[ "I took some creative liberties with the prompt. Instead of a caravan, I've written a single man separated from a caravan.\n\n#### Solid Glass.\n\nThere were big snowflakes, and there were small snowflakes. Eventually they fell in large enough quantities to allow people to pack them together. With enough packed together snow, one could make a fortress. 'Fort Sassafras' was hardly a fortress, but it served its purpose. Glass had spent a few days more than usual building this one, but it had been his best one yet. \n\nIt was dome-shaped, with a small chimey peeking out of the top. He had taken care to dig into the layers of snow to bury it a bit; he didn't want it to be easily visible. He had also taken care to gather as much sassafras as he could find. The stuff was everywhere, and it gave off little smoke when burned. It was tough finding the dry stuff with all the damned powder covering everything, but Glass had devised a decent system of drying it in the sun over the past few days.\n\nHe gathered up some of the kindling into a bundle and tucked it under his arm along with his sack. He then made his way, crouched on his hands and knees, through the small tunneled opening in his new fort.\n\nInside, the fire was still alive. He cracked a few twigs in half and built them up carefully around the dug out fire hole. He stuck one of the smaller pieces in his mouth and chewed. Fort Sassafras was fairly big. There was enough room for a small sleeping area, a small working area, and a den where the fire was. In the work area, a makeshift desk jutted out from the snow-ice wall with two heftier branches driven into the floor to serve as legs. Above the desk hung a small lense.\n\nGlass crawled over to his workstation, sack dragging behind him. He didn't need to crawl, but it felt less tiring than walking crouched over. The center of dome was about as tall as Glass, but it still felt a bit tight. At his desk, he sat on an ice-block that had been covered with hide. He heaved the sack up onto the desk and turned it over, dumping out the contents onto his workstation. He breathed a foggy breath onto the lense that dangled above the desk and wiped it clean. He adjusted it, allowing light to beam in from the small chimney above. The light refracted, illuminating the contents that had been strewn infront of him: Phage guts.\n\nHe had spent the better half of a week hunting this one down. He had wandered for miles, and his radar had almost run out of juice. The last time that had happened ... He shook his head and rifled through the hunks of metal. He knew he had grabbed a power core, which would give him another week or two of juice, but he was more interested in the smaller components. His Book had only needed a few things: a new processor, possibly a stick of memory, an antenna. Then he could get back in touch with UO5.\n\nThe fire crackled. The inside of Fort Sassafras was a comfortable temperature, and Glass continued to inspect each small component he had salvaged from the Phage husk. The packed-snow walls dampened reverberation, and so Glass worked in the quiet stillness.\n\n### To be continued. ", "The circuitry sparked, wires snapped like snakes beneath his gloves, as he pulled the Power Cell out, the lights on phage dimmed to nothing. If it had arms or a head left, it would have drooped, slumped over like an exhausted toddler.\n\nBut those parts of it had exploded into innumerable pieces, splaying out behind and around the Phage. Barden smiled and tossed the core deftly in his hand.\n\n“I think this one’s mostly full,” He held it to his exposed, red cheek, “It’s still warm.” \n\nCharles motioned for it, caught it when Barden threw it over and committed the same ritual against his cheek.\n\n“Fuckin’ hell, mate, it seems our luck is starting to turn.” His voice was thick, the sort of limey, British accent suitable only for national stereotypes. Charles removed a glove and cupped it, warming his fingers and looked to the horizon. “Let’s head back, weather looks like it’s going to turn.”\n\nGreat, hulking clouds peeled over the mountain peaks at the edge of their vision. Heavy, dark and ominous, the color of a raging, flooding river. Though the snow fell around them lazily now, the next few hours would change that. Soon they wouldn’t be able to see five feet in front of them. Somewhere in the vast distance, a glacier snapped, sending its echo through the valley.\n\n“I’d be more worried about the Coyotes, if I were you,” Barden said sarcastically. The joke never ceased to get a smile out of Charles. Storms offered a certain form of danger different than the Phages. Even though they came and went almost daily, they had an air of unpredictability. They were impersonally savage and unbearably cold. One could take down a ‘Coyote’ ill prepared; it was difficult, but possible.\n\nBeing taken unawares by a storm would not offer as good of odds.\n\nBarden packed the core with the rest of the day’s find and wrapped his head back up with his massive scarf. Charles trudged in front of him, planting his feet firmly in the snow; Barden walked in his footsteps.\n\n---\n\nThe echoing crack of another falling glacier filled the air, or perhaps a shifting iceberg in the great sea beyond, reverberating and traveling along the snowy peaks. But this time the shattering crack seemed closer. \n\n“I don’t think that was an echo, Charles.”\n\n“Aye, don’t say it. Don’t think it.”\n\n“Should we—“\n\n“Hurry the fuck up? Yes.” \n\nThe snow was still falling lazily, but it was no longer a buzzing static. It was thick, and blanketing. Creating a veil that diluted Charles’ figure with perfect whiteness, just 10 feet from Barden. Charles flipped open a compass, noted his surroundings then slammed a stake into the ground. He leaned down and flipped a switch, a red light atop of the pylon started to blink regularly. \n\n“Just another quarter mile or so.”\n\nThey walked past what their group had started to call their 'Bread Crumb' and up the hill.\n\nAnother tremor. This one large enough to force Barden and Charles to widen their stance for balance. Snow shifted and fell into their footprints, atop the peaks snow began to avalanche.\n\n“Charlie…” Barden said uneasily. But Charles said nothing, instead responded by quickening his pace, taking large leaping steps up the hill. To sweat in this weather was never good, but Charles didn’t seem to care for hypothermia that might kill him in two hours. \n\nBarden took another step and the world seemed to explode. He cupped his ears and crouched instinctively. The earth shook around him, a cacophony of noises, of shattering ice, of falling rock and echoing thunder assaulted him. It sounded like a mountain turning in on itself, like a creaking tree, and the deafening crack when it finally explodes under stress. He screamed but couldn’t hear himself. The roiling earth groaned and bent.\n\nA mechanical roar added itself to the orchestra of chaos. Low, resonating and deep, the kind that made their hearts skip a beat. Inhuman and ear piercing, the sound of a forlorn foghorn emanating from the salted mists of the ocean; of an overzealous trumpeter hitting a quintuple forte on his sheet music; of groaning steel as a ship is swallowed up by the ocean. The noise itself seemed to create another tremor.\n\nBarden and Charles looked behind them and saw it. A great hulking mass rising slowly from a snowy hill, the snowy hill they had been standing on not two hours prior. Waterfalls of snow fell from its figure, trees and their massive root systems careened towards the earth. Though they fell hundreds of feet, their crash was swallowed up by the distance, the snow and the penetrating sound of the massive matter than rose from the depths of the earth. Even with the distance and the obscuring snow, they could make out its mass. Trees hundreds of feet tall would be poor toothpicks for something that size.\n\nA massive arm pulled itself from the earth and planted hard in the snow, sending another shockwave through the valley. As it pushed free, its head tilted upward, and a light flared to life. The damning color of blood, as large and precise as a spot light. It swept through the valley, a lifeless red amid a colorless landscape.\n\n“Charlie… what—“ \n\n“Run.” Charles said, then again, “Run and don’t look back.”\n\nThey ran.\n \n", "PART I\n\nJasper took another peek through his scope.\n\n\"Same as yesterday, Chief. Two lesser phages, one trapped in the ice, one missing a leg and mostly immobilized. Coast is clear.\" A moment passed in silence.\n\n\"Scrap them,\" ordered Chief Paxton. Jasper tapped Vardy on the shoulder and both men squeezed off two rounds from their rifles. A quarter of a mile away, the two lesser phages crumpled to the ground.\n\nA short walk later, Vardy tore open the chassis of the phage that was missing a leg.\n\n\"Look like shit on the outside, but I think these guys are in pretty good shape where it matters. What do you have, J?\"\n\nJasper sliced into the snowbound phage with his torch and rummaged around. The power cells were in great shape- this phage must have been immobile for most of its life- and most of the copper wire was still usable.\n\n\"It's a good haul today, Chief,\" announced Jasper into his headset. \"We'll be back before sundown.\"\n\n\n\nJasper tossed his rucksack to the ground and sunk into his ragged camp chair. Paxton and two of the new recruits had started a fire in the center of camp, but Jasper needed to rest his legs more than he needed warmth. Vardy went to work cutting a chunk of ice out of the ground to boil later in the evening.\n\nThe caravan had been camped on the middle of the Mississippi River for three days. Hunting parties had left for Vicksburg shortly after the camp was pitched, and Jasper's was the first to return. The others were set to arrive the next morning so the caravan could be on time to Crescent City.\n\nAt long last, Jasper made his way to the center of camp, where the other hunters and the two recruits, Marley and Tesho were huddled around the fire. Jasper shouldered his way into the ring between Marley and Vardy.\n\n\"Have we seen any other travelers?\" Jasper asked Marley. The new guy would know- he wouldn't be allowed on his first hunt until the return trip from Crescent City.\n\n\"A group from St. Louis passed us heading south yesterday carrying furs, but there hasn't been a peep from the bayou since Memphis. Maybe the Gulf routes are looking good for once.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" Jasper muttered. \"No one ever comes back from Yucatan though.\"\n\n\n\nJasper crawled into his tent and made sure his things were still in order. His map, his bedroll, his field kit- everything was there. But something felt off. As he laid his head down for a night's sleep before the next day's trek, he felt the current of the river through twenty feet of ice. Even after the Mire, the Mississippi still had a mighty current. There were some things that mankind couldn't fuck up.\n\nHe was nearly asleep when he heard Tesho shouting from the other side of camp. Grumbling all the way, Jasper pulled on his overcoat and balaclava, grabbed his rifle and field kit, and headed into the cold.\n\nAs he poked his head outside, he heard a deep rumbling from the south. Avalanche, surely he thought to himself. Tesho had probably spotted a wolfpack on one of the banks. He glanced at the sensor on his wrist. Jammed from an ash storm rolling in. Vardy appeared next to him, having woken from his own slumber.\n\n\"What's the new kid wailing about this time?\" Vardy asked. Jasper shrugged and jammed a clip into his rifle. A wolf hunt was the last thing he needed on a night like this. In the distance, the rumbling grew louder.\n\nTesho was still shouting when they reached his watch post at the southern edge of camp. A few other hunters were there as well.\n\n\"I saw a sensor light in the distance!\" shrieked Tesho. \"Through the ash!\"\n\n\"Have a look at the neophyte!\" called one of the hunters. \"He's found himself a Terra on the middle of the river!\" The crowd chuckled while Jasper pulled the teen off to the side.\n\n\"Crescent City keeps the river and the delta clear of phage activity,\" he explained to Tesho. \"Ash storms harbor flashes of static electricity sometimes. You didn't see anything.\" The rumbling grew louder.\n\nA piercing crack split the relative silence of the night wide open. One of the hunters in the crowd behind Jasper and Tesho screamed, and the entire camp awoke, shouting and reaching for their weapons.\n\nJasper turned and came face to face with Vardy, who was staring expressionless into the oncoming storm and sporting a six-inch hole in his chest. As Jasper's partner crumpled to the ground, the red sensor of a phage glinted through the ash. The rumbling grew louder." ]	[ 2, 3, 12 ]	[ "1453840283", "1453836777", "1453833780" ]
	[WP] A woman visits her father in his dilapidated home as he's dying and confronts old feelings.	6	[ "On Sunday, she drove out to Piha to see her dad. They cooked steaks on the barbecue and listened to Muddy Waters and when it was getting late they opened a bottle of Tullamore Dew. They only had a thimble full because her dad said they only needed a taste and she had to drive anyway. They sat on the deck with their inch of whiskey and talked about the world like they knew what it was and what it wasn’t. She didn’t share details about the case but her father had read enough in the papers. \n\nI think a lot about who she is, who she might have been, she said.\n\nWe are what we are when the asking is done. \n\nYou believe that?\n\nI believe it. \n\nYou don’t think it matters if she had a family or might have planned on it one day?\n\nI think it matters if it helps you find her folks. Give them some peace.\n\nYou think that’s the best I can hope for?\n\nI think that’s the best anyone can hope for. \n\nThat won’t help me.\n\nNeither will asking about what she’s going to miss out on. She’s already missed it.\n\nWhat do you think you’ll miss?\n\nI don’t wanna talk about that.\n\nDad..\n\nThis, I’ll miss this.\n\nMe too. \n\nAin’t we a pair?\n\nShe didn’t know what to say to that so she didn’t say anything at all. They sat there for a long time mulling over the silence broken only by the chirp of crickets joined by cicadas whenever the security lights flickered on and the occasional hoot of a morpork somewhere in the bush covered hills behind the house.\n\nDid I ever tell you about when grandad and I saw the US detonate the Hydrogen Bomb in space?\n\nNo.\n\nWe came and stood outside just like this and they said on the radio you could see it from New Zealand and they were right. The US wanted to know what would happen if they detonated a bomb above the atmosphere. It’s how they found out about EMP because without the atmosphere there’s no blast from the bomb.\n\nBecause there’s no air to push.\n\nRight. I remember the sky went orange like a sunset for about fifteen minutes but it was too late to be a sunset. \n\nWhat sort of orange?\n\nA purple kind of orange. \n\nReddish?\n\nNo, a kind of purple orange. Almost fluorescent. I don’t think there’s another colour like it. I think about humans making that and the rest doesn’t seem so hard to imagine. \n\nWhy did you leave mum? \n\nThat was a long time ago. \n\nI need to know.\n\nDo you really or do you just think you do?\n\nI do. \n\nYour mother’s a hard woman to get along with. She’s a wonderful, passionate woman. But hot flames burn the quickest as they say. \n\nShe said the same thing.\n\nWell it’s the truth of it.\n\nWhy did you leave me?\n\nHannah.. \n\nI didn’t even know you. Fifteen years without a word. I hated you. I hated you so much. Now I just hate myself. Why didn’t I try to find you? Why did it take me so god damn long? Why do you have to.. why now? Just when we’re..\n\nI know. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault. You’ll understand when you have kids of your own. It’s never their fault. It couldn’t possibly be. \n\nI miss you already.\n\nTheir talk drifted to other things, about life and death in faraway places where neither of them were ever likely to go, about the cogs behind it all, about what would happen if New Zealand got independence or if the Americans had colonised them instead of the British and afterwards they hadn’t solved anything but perhaps they had made their small world a tiny bit larger in the trying. They were both convinced that was a good thing. She said she had to go but she sat in the car out on the street and watched him through the window. Old and slow, he moved about the kitchen alone, making a cup of tea before bed. Only in that distant observation could she truly see the state he was in. Old shaking hands and blue eyes lost in memories. His days left were few. She felt the immeasurable pain coiling in her throat and lungs and when the last lights in the house went out she drove home on those winding coastal roads that seemed no more than goat tracks chiseled into the cliffs. \n", "The yard is overgrown, thick with weeds and based on the smell, either animal carcasses or garbage. Placing a hand over her mouth, Gaelle clicks her way along the broken concrete walkway up to the front door of the house. She pauses at the bottom of the steps, a disgusted look appearing on her face as she looks over the front of the house. More of the peeling paint comes off the side of the building, revealing the last paint color underneath it. \n\n“A week, huh?” Gaelle mutters under her breath. She slowly steps up the bowing, wobbly steps, listening to them groan under her weight. She pauses at the door, lifting her hand to knock before a scowl overtakes her features. Instead, she grasps the doorknob, settling her expression into something notably more neutral as she pushes the door open. \n\nSquealing in protest at being moved, the door isn’t the only thing that marks her arrival. The empty beer cans across the floor rattling and moving add to the ruckus she makes as she opens the door. The reek of the alcohol hits her like a bus, her lip lifting as she breathes as shallowly as possible. A second, slightly more subtle stench reaches her. \n\nGaelle puts her hand over her face, taking in the scent of her perfume instead, despite it irritating her throat. She kicks some of the garbage out of the way as she steps further into the house, leaving the door open behind her. Her eyes adjust slowly to the darkened house. The electricity has obviously been turned off long ago. \n\nStepping carefully through the house, kicking aside the innumerable aluminum cans and various grocery bags of trash, she winds her way towards a familiar hallway. Gaelle glances over where the pictures had been on the wall. She had taken most of those when she had left long, long ago. Coming back hadn’t been an idea she had ever considered. Not until recently. \n\nThe hallway is dim, less cluttered thankfully, but dim, only lit by the light from the windows. There’s the sound of someone snoring coming down the hallway and another disgusted look comes to her face. The snoring stops, the sound of choking replacing it, and then coughing and cursing. Gaelle continues down the hallway, hands balled into fists. \n\nShe ignores the other, open doors along the hallway. A glance into one would take her into too long standing in the filth of the house. She knows the doors by heart though, even though it’s been twenty years since she’s last been in the house. The first door was her older brother’s former room. The second was the common bathroom. The third, across the hallway from the bathroom used to be her bathroom. And then, at the end of the hallway, she pauses at the open door. \n\nThe coughing drags her into the room, step by slow step. Her nails are getting painful as they press into her palms. Any harder and she’s convinced that there will be blood. Laying in the middle of a filthy-looking bed is an older looking man. He’s back to snoring again, his body down to barely more than skin and bones. He looks all right despite the lack of fat on his body but the muscle looks like it’s sagging away. \n\n“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” Gaelle mutters. Casting a discerning eye around the room finds it in disrepair, much like the rest of the house. It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming, back when she left. No one left to take care of him, after her mother died, her brother got jailed, and she took off. No one to be his mother in the place of the one that he didn’t give a shit about when he was young. Gaelle looks down her nose at him sleeping in the bed. \n\nOnce, he had been a strong, tall man. Now, he’s nothing but a shell of what he had been. Not that he had been much more than that when she left. Gaelle watches him choke and sputter in his sleep, the alcohol killing his ability to breathe as it depresses his nervous system. She glances to see if the Prozac is still on his side table, where he kept it to take with a morning swig of beer. It’s missing, probably never having been filled for a long time. \n\n“What the fuck?” The words aren’t quite slurred but they’re slow enough that Gaelle is well aware that he’s still drunk. \n\n“Your doctor called me.” Her voice is cold, rather even and emotionless. “Said, no matter how I protested, that I needed to come and see you.” Gaelle runs a finger over the layer of dust on top of one of the dresser drawers. “Funny. You used to bitch about how much dust was in the house. You think after throwing everything of mom’s out, you’d dust.” \n\n“I’m fine.” The snap comes from him. “Doctors don’t know anything.” There’s a short pause, the rustling and banging of beer cans coming from where he’s leaned over the side of the bed. \n\n“So they’re making up alcoholic seizures and you needing a new liver to keep living at the ripe old age of fifty-seven. Good to know.” Gaelle gives a grimacing smile, holding back bitter laughter. “I’m sure that him, with his doctorate, knows much more than a drunkard who just wants to give excuses for allowing himself to keep drinking himself to death.” Gaelle fixes her gaze on him finally, meeting the bloodshot eyes, the one wandering as it tended to when he was trashed. “Did you get that one from your sister?” \n\n“Shut up.” The order lacks venom despite the obvious intent behind it. Gaelle smirks in response before turning her attention away. \n\n“So for my morbid curiosity, I came up here.” She kicks a couple cans out of the way with a boot-sheathed foot. “Good to know that, for your bitching, you have worse ‘clutter’ than she ever did. I think this is garbage instead though.” \n\n“You going to clean it up?” He looks at her expectantly. Gaelle snorts, eyes coming back to rest on him. \n\n“Why would I clean your mess up?” \n\n“My back hurts.” \n\n“Your back has hurt since thirty but that didn’t slow you down in doing work under the table while still getting all your benefits.” Gaelle shakes her head. “It reeks in here. It smells like piss, so I’ll take that to mean that you’re not even walking outside to piss any more. I saw that coming.” Another pause. “It was nice to see you. I’ll be going now and telling your neighbors to make sure you’re alive every couple days.” \n\n“You have to—” \n\n“I don’t have to do shit.” Gaelle cuts him off, eyes narrowed. “Just like you did nothing for me other than drink yourself into a hole. When I needed you to come help me with my car, you were guttered, just like every single night. When I needed someone to talk to, I got snark and bullshit. When we told you that you were in trouble after the first alcoholic seizure, you didn’t listen. I don’t have to do shit for you. I’ll pay for you, like I always have but I will not become your servant. I am not your servant.” \n\nHer father sits, mouth gaping but as she watches, his mind starts to spin around and his back starts to bow, an angry look coming to his face. Gaelle nods, quick to cut him off before he can respond to her. \n\n“As you should be. You haven’t cared for years and I don’t expect you to now.” She turns away from the sallow shell of a man, stepping over the cans and trash littering the house. \n\n“Gaelle! Gaelle, you get back here! I did everything for you, don’t you walk away from me! You owe me!” She shakes her head, body shaking as she simply walks out the front door. She doesn’t bother pulling it closed behind her, uncertain if it would even close or if she could close it with how tightly balled her fists are. \n\nShe forces her way out of the yard, kicking the gate open from where it’s already hanging half open. There’s a few more shouts from behind her as she stops short on the sidewalk, taking a few deep breaths of air. It’s chill on her throat, but much better than the stench of the house. There’s a few more curses and shouts from behind her. \n\nInstead of paying attention to it, she heads across the street, walking by her car, to get to the neighbor’s house. They’re already peering out from behind curtains at her, eyes glancing up behind her, towards her old home where she knows that her father is leering at her from the doorway. She still knocks on the door. There’s a very long silence before the door cracks open very slightly. \n\n“Do I need to call the police?” \n\n“No ma’am.” Gaelle gives her a strained smile. “Unless he starts something else up.” She doesn’t look back behind her at the voice she can hear straining to shout at her. “Could you just keep a good eye on him? See that he’s stumbling around and if he doesn’t stumble for a couple days, call an ambulance.” \n\n“O—Oh.” The woman glances over Gaelle’s shoulder again. “A—All right. He has to get that yard cleaned up.” \n\n“Don’t concern yourself with him. I’ll get someone to do the job.” Gaelle takes a card from a pocket of the long jacket. “Call the number marked ‘P’ there if anything else comes up. Thank you.” Gaelle turns away, finally setting eyes on her old home one more time. Her father is still spitting curses from the doorway. She’s not even sure if what he’s wearing is clothing any more. \n\nGetting into her car, she turns it on and drives away, noticing that the steering wheel is slick on one side. A glance lets her know that she did break the skin, bleeding onto the steering wheel. A scowl appears on her face before she takes a few more deep breaths, turning the radio on. There’s no use being upset about it. He would do what he would do and after twenty-five years, Gaelle had learned that lesson. There would be no changing him after another fifteen. ", "As I drive up my stomach drops more. What would he look like now? The house itself was in bad shape. Paint chipped and peeled all over and the yard was covered in weeds. The driveway was broken up into sharp rock and the light on the porch was completely shattered. There was already a car in the driveway. I never took him for a jeep kind of guy. I climbed out of the car and walk carefully up to the door knocking quickly. Moments later a woman opened the door. 'That explained the car' I thought \"You Adriana?\" She asked.\n\nAt my nod she ushers me inside and tells me to go up the stairs second door on the left. She urged me not to stress him out. I can't help but notice how bare the inside looks. Almost as if no one lives here. I do as told and come to a closed door. Slowly I raise my fist and knock. \"Come in.\" A deep baritone voice called from inside.\n\nIt was now or never. I opened the door and walked in. \"Lillian! You came! Your sister rejected my invite.\" The same voice greeted with a smile.\n\nIn the bed to the far right propped up with his hands in his lap my dad looked at me. His eyes were the only thing that didn't look worn. His skin was sickly pale and his hair was thinking and falling out. \"I'm Adriana\" I told him \"Lillian couldn't stand to see you. She actually begged me not to come, but I had to see you one last time.\"\n\nThe smile dropped from his face and he looked down \"I never could tell you two apart.\"\n\n\"Well, you did leave when we were seven.\"\n\n\"If you didn't care to see me why are you here. Rubbing in your perfect life are we?\"\n\n\"Not exactly I came to tell you all about how much better our lives were without you. How she's about to have a baby of her own with the man she loves and how I'm getting married. How mom was finally happy before her passing. The nights we sat waiting for you to come home. Finding out you had another family hurt. But mom told us to leave it. That you were happier that way, but she cried every night until she met David.\"\n\n\"Addy, I--\"\"don't call me that!\" I interrupted \"You have no right to.\"\n\n\"Adriana, I know I'm a failure of a dad and I know that I messed up I only wanted to make amends before I die.\" He spoke quickly. \"I'm just sorry it took me dying to figure it out.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry too, but I'm not ready to forgive you. I am however willing to forget you after this. I just wanted to make some peace. Twenty-five years is a lot of time to take before talking to someone.\"\n\n\"Sometimes I wonder about if I had stayed. You girls were my life. My new family forgot about me years ago. Left me here to rot. They couldn't forgive me either.\"\n\n\"You never acted like we were. I just had to see what became of the man I used to look up to. You know our step dad David never once thought of us not being his kid, we even have two brothers and a sister. He was there and we are his life.\" \n\nHis heart monitor began to beep loudly. The lady from before appeared in the doorway. \"His stress levels are elevating, I need you to leave.\"\n\nSo I did. As I got back in my car I couldn't help but realize I felt worse. \n" ]	[ 1, 1, 1 ]	[ "1453837010", "1453851227", "1453859448" ]
Pretty much, describe what an average day is like in your own idea of what utopia is. In other words, what is your idea of the perfect world like? Have fun!	[WP] Describe an average day, from the viewpoint of an average person...in your utopia.	13	[ "\"It's time to wake up Will,\" a female voice said.\nA 20 some year old boy slowly opened his eyes.\nHe could see a blurry figure.\nHe rubbed his eyes as he felt a hand caress his face.\nHe looked to see a beautiful woman with long black hair smiling at him.\n\"Good morning Will,\" she said with a smile.\nWill sat up and scratched the back of his neck and let out a yawn.\nThe walls slowly rose up as sunlight poured into the room.\nA beautiful spectacle could be seen outside.\nThe woman wrapped her arms around Will and kissed him.\nWill smiled.\n\"Good morning my love,\" Will said as he turned and laid her back down and started to kiss her.\nThe windows darkened and the room glowed a purple tint as the two made love in the early morning.\n\nWill walked into a kitchen area\nFruit was sliced and ready to be eaten.\nA warm cup of tea sat next to a well prepared omelette.\nThe woman walked into the kitchen and sat next to Will as the two ate breakfast together while ambient music played.\n\nAfter breakfast the two went outside into a beautiful garden\nThey walked barefoot through the garden taking in the morning sunlight and making light conversation.\nThey stood at a small bridge and looked at the koi fish swimming below.\nThe two came to a small zen stone garden and began their morning meditation.\nAfter several minutes will opened his eyes and exhaled feeling fully rejuvenated.\nHe looked at the woman who was still in meditation.\nHe quietly moved closer to her and gently kissed her neck.\nShe let out a giggle as he continued to kiss her neck.\nHe playfully tickled her as she rolled to the ground.\nThe two then proceeded back towards the house.\n\nWill began his morning workout.\nHe pumped eight reps and set the bar back on the rack.\nHe was lightly covered in sweat as he sat on the bench.\nHe looked to see the woman performing yoga.\nHe checked his watch and continued working out.\n\nWill walked inside and entered a small shower room.\nWater fell from the ceiling as Will undressed and entered the shower.\nAs he washed his face he got the sense that someone else was near.\nHe rinsed his face to see the woman standing naked outside the shower.\nHe smiled as she entered the shower.\nThe woman started to wash Will and rub his body.\nWill in return washed the woman as he ran his hands up and down her smooth silhouette.\nUpon finishing the two held each other close as the water rained down on them.\n\n(I'll add more later)\n\n", "I awoke with my usual mild hypo-mania and Rose. Her light brown skin pressing against me from head to toe. I felt so happy, I had everything I had ever wanted. I thought to my friends who weren’t accepted, tears began welling in my eyes. Nothing I could do so I forgot about them and relaxed. The mild euphoria returned and I again became mindful of incredible feeling of her body against mine. I could spend the rest of the day here with her in this bed and be happy. \n\nHer breasts and body rubbed against my chest as she awoke, stretching her body across mine. She squeezed me in tight and then moved so we were facing each other. She looked into my eyes, and my mind went blank as I was transfixed. She had this other worldliness about her that would fascinate me until the day I died.\n\n\"You shouldn't look into my eyes like that or you might fall in love.\" Her voiced flowed so smoothly and pleasantly I had a hard time picking up the words.\n\n\"I'm afraid it's too late I loved you since the moment we met. Well really I've loved you since the birth of the universe at the moment our souls first met. It’s just a bit hard to remember with this thing.” I knocked on my head.\n\n“It’s okay I still love that big skull of yours.” She moved off the bed slowly getting dressed. Halfway dressed she looked to me. ”Last one to the cafeteria is a rotten egg!” She began hurriedly putting on clothes. I leapt off the bed trying to catch up without hope as she was already almost dressed. She slowly sauntered towards the exit. I pulled her in close and gave her a deep kiss. She returned with an even deeper kiss and then pushed me away. She danced towards the exit, glee lighting up her face.\n\nI caught up with her in the cafeteria and pulled her in tight. “You know I wouldn’t let you get far away.”\n“You better not, Pete over there was looking at me mighty hard before you caught up.”\n\n“He wouldn’t, he knows better.”\n\n“What are you going to have babe?”\n\n“Let’s go over to the real cooks today.” My mind again drifted to my friends outside the haven. It seemed to be drifting to them more lately.\n\n“We walked past the machines cooks to the human cooks.”\n\n“Hey Thomas, we thought you had forgot about us. The boss prefers eating meals cooked by the machines.” We all looked to Rose inciting a guilty look in her.\n\n“What can I say, I grew up with the machine cooks its nothing against you, and your cooking is absolutely fantastic Pierre. It’s just habits that’s all.” \n\n“The usual for the both of you?”\n\n“That’s for good for me.” We looked to Rose. “The usual for me too.”\n\n“So how are things with the old lady Pierre?”\n\n“She’s won’t talk to me. We were watching a beach volleyball match and she insists my eyes were transfixed on one of the players.”\n\n“Dourine?”\n\nPierre looked at me in shock. I looked down to Roses eyes to see her fury! \n\n“I just meant, you know, I had heard you mention something about her before and I was making assumptions that’s all.” Rose walked away fuming and took a seat next to her friends and they moved close enough together to make sure I didn’t have a seat.“Well looks like were both in the doghouse my friend. He poured a couple glasses of sparkling cider. Cheers.” Our glasses collided and I shook my head.\n\n“Get her some roses from deep within the forest that will cheer her up.” We bumped fist and enjoyed the cider. \nI grabbed her meal and brought it to the table with her and her friends. “The chef told me to bring this meal to the most beautiful girl in the world.” I placed the meal before her and a glass of orange juice above it. She looked at me and I knew everything was forgiven. But for now she would chat with her friends.\n\nI moved towards the kitchen. “Thanks everyone! Pierre racquetball tonight? Yes of course I’m always ready to teach you a thing or two.”\n\n“Glad to see your feeling confident, you will need it. Alright see you later.”\n\nI carried my food to the table with my friends and coworkers. \n", "I thought I had gone crazy. \n\nI took another swig from the lightening bottle of Jameson whiskey in my right hand. \n\nAn overwhelming sense of calmness filled me as did an illusion that I was thinking more clearly. \n\nIt dawned on me in that moment that I could never find true happiness. \n\n\"happiness is a state of mind that eludes me Watson \" I said aloud to my dog. \n\n\nMy dog looked at me, his ears perking up. His ears always perked up when I would speak. \n\n\" No matter where I go or what I do to try to attain it, i believe it to be a myth or an enigma that will forever be just outside my grasp. \"\n\nWatson looked out towards the edge of the seaside seemingly bored and incapable of comprehending what it was I was trying to say.. \n\nHe curled up and fell asleep. \n\nI feel like a state of happiness occurs somewhere within your soul. \nEven in the midst of my ideal utopia, it is not enough, I still feel empty inside. \nI take another swig from my bottle of whiskey which comes from a seemingly endless supply. \n\nYou can have everything you think you need or want in the world but in the end what is the point of it all? \n\nI stare out at the ocean and the falling sunset in what a couple of weeks ago had been my ideal utopia. \nBut lately, all I had felt after the novelty had worn off was unhappiness. \n\nIs constant dissatisfaction with whatever ones current situation is ever cureable? Is dissatisfaction truly a symptom of ambition? \n\nIs true happiness an illusion? \n\nI stared down at my sleeping companion Watson. I stared out at the falling sunset across the landscape of the island. I glanced at the burning campfire and the endless supplies of everything i thought i would ever need in my life to be happy. \n\nMaybe true happiness is what I have right now? I've never been one to realize how good things are until they've already passed. Moments of bliss always seem to hit me years later when Im feeling in a nostalgic state. Rembering the good old days... \n I take another swig of whiskey and know in a couple of minutes i will probably pass out on equal parts drunkness and equal parts sadness. \nPart of me hopes, that my eyes will never re open........ \n\n\n\n\n\n", "Sunday. A day like every other fuckin day. \nI get up and eat whatever I want. I mean, there is just everything in my fridge nowadays. And by everything, I mean everything. Literally. Whatever I want, in front of my nose. \nI turn on the radio and listen to whatever I want. I mean, there is just everything on the radio nowadays. And by everything, again I quite literally mean everything. Whatever I want, in front of my ears. \nI go to the bathroom. Then I remember I don't have one. I haven't had to pee in at least 10 years. Still wasn't used to it. What would you need a bathroom for, if you don't have to brush teeth or wash your face and body? \nWant to know what I missed the most from way back then? When everything wasn't \"perfect\"? Call me silly, but I really miss cleaning my room. I always hated that, when I had to do it. I haven't seen a broom in like what, a decade? Somehow I just miss it nowadays. \nWell, whatever. I get out of the house and greet my neighbours. Everyone is smiling, they all seem to be happy. \nI fucking hate them. All of them. With their fucking smiles and happiness. In the beginning this perfect life seemed, well... perfect. Well here I am. Bored as fuck. Everyone looks fucking great. You would've called those people models or movie stars when I was young. \nDamn. Movies. They got boring REAL quick. In every fucking new movie there is a huge plottwist. I hate plottwists. Funnily enough they aren't so stunning anymore, at least after you've seen hundreds of them. I miss the old movies. I miss fucking Jean-Claude van Damme. Or Silvester Stallone. Sure they were nowhere close to perfect actors, but at least they had a distinct personality. \nWorst thing is, this is what I do all day. I walk down the street, look at those happy, beautiful faces and my hate burns like a effin liquorstore when you throw a torch in it. \nDon't get me wrong, I don't hate those people. Well, I DO hate them. But it's not their fault. It's this fuckin utopia we've been living in for over 10 years. I am just so pissed off at the fuckin ignorant moron, that thought of all this. Should I ever met him, I promise, I will beat the living crap out of him. \nIt may sound silly to you, but anyways: \nFuck Utopia.", "\"You dropped this.\"\n\nHe waved a paper note at the girl passing by his bench. The odds of him noticing it slip from her purse were surprising, considering the view. A pond stretched beyond this impossible distance, framed in willow branches and sunset. The world rested on a reflection uninterrupted. The effect of this image stretched the imagination itself in equal, soothing measures.\n\nAll that lay before him, and a piece of paper broke the reverie. However, he was not disturbed by this moment. This was something he'd been waiting for. \n\nThe girl turned around and noticed him holding a slip, grinning. She approached the occupied bench and offered a hand. He placed it in her palm without a second look. The message was not important to him.\n\n\"Thank you,\" she said. \n\nThe boy only beamed in response. It was a look one would expect to see peeking through a school bus window in the fall. Too excited to let the drive be just a trip, the young face would capture whoever or whatever could be part of that early morning. However, it was never just the smile you noticed. The journey was what made that child wonder about you. Whether you were commuting to work or sitting in an outdoor cafe, your presence was like a word in a book.\n\nWords that coursed and weaved through an adventure all the boy's own. \n\nHis beaming was infectious, and the girl's mouth curved to a smile. She resumed her walk past the bench, dropping the note back in her purse where it always belonged.\n\nWhenever the boy sat at this bench as the sun was setting, within an hour of the dark speckled span quilting the pond in small lights, the girl would pass by and drop that note. It was for him. They'd be the most important words in his life.\n\nHe could respond anytime, but there was no rush. He wanted to take his time. This was where his favorite chapter started after all.\n", "I get up, make coffee for the household and shower. As I watch the sunrise I decide not to work today." ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3 ]	[ "1453865536", "1453871345", "1453878643", "1453885075", "1453862125", "1453882764" ]
WP inspired by https://www.reddit.com/r/whowouldwin/comments/2i9d1x/the_army_of_mordor_took_a_wrong_turn_and_goes_up/ Specifically by u/DistaNVDT " People often bring up that the monsters will absolutely wreck shit and scare them senseless. But look at it like this, there is no way in hell that, after scouting their foe, the armies would be briefed saying "So yeah we're up against these X and Y alien creatures with this size and these capabilities". Romans have a rich culture with lots of mythos, it's guaranteed that they can find similarities between every unit in Mordor's legion, and some monster from their mythology. Now what will be the Legion's morale you think, if the info they get fed isn't "we have to fight aliens" but rather "X evil god has sent his legions, we have to stop him." There are no Trolls or Wargs, there are Cyclopses and Cerberi (?). The legions are prepairing to fight the fight that their heroes in the legends have fought. They fight for X god against the armies of Y god, facing Z mythological creatures. Their heroes have vanquished creatures like these in the stories of old (so to speak). In their minds, they're not only fighting for their lives, they're fighting with the promise that victory will bring them immortality through legends written about them." p.s. Will also accept any pre-war speech to inspire the populace! Also doesn't have to be Caesar but any leader inspiring his troops.	[WP] The army of Mordor has been transported to our world at the height of the Roman Empire. Rome has assembled its army and it's Caesar is about to give his pre-battle speech.	115	[ "Men of Rome, today is far from normal. The armies of chaos march against us, seeking to destroy us with an unnatural swarm. Hades himself leads armies of creatures unseen to conquer Rome, and brings with him magic and weapons unknown. We stand at fifty legions of five thousand brave men. No host of such a size has been seen in the world, and yet we are dwarfed -- the enemy is infinite.\n\nBut one thing remains the same: Here we stand, and here we will stay. We brave many, so few in the face of Hades. We stand defiant, unyielding, and we know that they will not break us. They will launch the greatest of attacks, and we will repel it. They will crash endlessly against our shields like the wave against the cliff, and achieve less, for we are Romans, and we are unbreakable.\n\n**\n\nI'd try translating this, but my Latin is bad enough that I'd just make a fool of myself.", "Sonnet Number Twenty-Eight\n\nFriends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears: \nThe northerns are uglier than I recall \nBut still will bleed when after all these years \nI've spent away from war in Roman hall. \n\nIt's lucky chance for me, they came just when \nMy former friends were plotting treason acts, \nWhen hellsent messenger, these orcs burst in \nAnd foiled plot of murderous attacks.\n\nWe stand before a foreign, ill-trained force, \nAnd should lay waste to legions of these orcs \nWith easy murder, justly given, but of course, \nThe hellish beasts deserving no remorse. \n\nAs Caesar sets his sights on Middle-Earth \nHe dreams of conquest, nations giving birth.", "Let us slay thees devils so we can go back to our wine and women. Let our children fear not the cries of death, for our enemies release them. Hold your sword and swing throw your fears aside and run. For nothing shall strike the Legend down, when Rome defended it's gates against all the armies of Mordor. Do this not for your King or your Country, but for your FREEDOM!!! ", "Hold your ground! Hold your ground! Sons of Rome, my brothers, I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.\n\nA day may come when the strength of Rome fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day.\n\nAn hour of wolves and shattered shields, when the age of Rome comes crashing down, but it is not this day!\n\nThis day we fight!!\n\nBy all that you hold dear on this good Earth,\n\nI bid you stand, Men of Rome!!!\n", "(I apologize in advance for this lacking a serious tone, but this is my legitimate idea of how that would go down)\n\nRoman's! \n\nI don't know what the fuck those things are, and the odds are against us! I mean, the barbarian tribes of Britannia staved us off, so these bastards might damn well have a chance at razing Rome! \n\nBut, hold fast, and keep your shields high! For I shall be with you, and we will make them regret this aggression! We may die, or we may live, but the fact remains: they will never forget THIS TRAVESTY! \n\nMounts his horse and rides away, leaving his armies in disarray", "Accidentally posted it before it was finished. Anyway, here it is, although, it's not a speech.\n____\nThe mortal men clashed against the Legion of the Damned sent down by the Gods themselves. Steel swords crossed paths with the rounded blunt weapons of the enemy. The distinct shouting of Roman commanders over the grueling shriek of the Damned was a constant reminder to the soldiers that their world was continually fighting against the horde that threatened to take it away from them.\n\n\"For Rome and for glory, legionnaires!\" I shouted over the shriek of one of the Damned, as I plunged my sword deep into the being's heart, a dark black blood sprouting from it as I did. \"Do not stop fighting!\"\n\nMy Legion was the first to clash into the Legion of the Damned, and our fight was far from over. But we had brought over much of the active Legions in order to support us, with this Legion able to defeat the entire barbarian hordes, Caesar was careful not to underestimate them.\n\nAnd underestimate them, he did not. There were thousands of them, mortal men including, and since they arrived they had been recruiting mortal men and women to join their crusade. The slippery tongue of Fraus, daughter of Nox, was sure to have helped the Damned in their ways of gaining followers. Nox was declaring a war on humanity, and even Jupiter himself could not fight against her and siblings.\n\nWe mortals fought on our own now, without the assistance of the Gods, and without the heroes that we came to love. We only had each other and as the Damned horde took our Legions by surprise, we were forced into a battle we were not prepared for.\n\nI was one of the first in the fight, protecting my small contubernium of Legionnaires as our Legion was slaughtered in battle around us. The Damned's surprise attack which took out much of our rearguard and our Legatus was planned perfectly. They knew exactly where to hit us, and exactly when, the foresight of the Gods being given to them, another fact that we were forsaken by the immortals we had worshipped.\n\nWe were being slaughtered, by the thousands, against little more than demons with swords and shields. The way they broke our lines, worse than the barbarian hordes of the North, and opening gaps between lines with ease. I did not know how, but they were doing all too well.\n\nI could see their leader as well, an enormous Damned that wore an armor shroud and metal helm that covered much of its face. And their Demons from the sky that their leaders rode on, the shrieks and claws crushing both our heads and our bodies in swift movements. They were coming, for each of us, shrieking into the sky as they swept into the Legion and took out dozens in one run. Flying demons, I thought of them, what God gave them this?\n\n\"Vel! We are being slaughtered!\" My legionnaire yelled to me as he struck down another Damned with a blow to the head.\n\nI knew that, I thought, but I knew we could not abandon our other legionnaires. But I saw them routing, hundreds of them, throwing down their weapons and forsaking the rest of us to the Damned. They were running.\n\n\"We must go to the forest! Regroup!\"\n\nI shook my head, there would be no regrouping, but we could survive in the trees and in the land. So long as we stuck to what we know. We could get back to Rome and warn Caesar of the terrible battle that had taken place. Six Legions, slaughtered in a day. I had already lost two from my conubernium, I would not lose anymore and I would give Caesar the greatest gift of all, the advice to stay back and defend his Empire.\n\n\"To the forest!\" I shouted as I swung my sword at another Damned, gutting it and its entrails falling to the grass and dirt. \"We must warn the Caesar!\"\n\nI pulled up one of my Legionnaires, Secendus, and pushed him towards the forest, \"We will get home, I promise you that!\" I grabbed the five of them, making sure they were each with me as we ran to the forest.\n\nAnd run we did. As fast and as hard as we could, carrying our weapons as the forests trees disguised us and the shrieking of the Damned disappeared into the wind. I could still hear the screams of my fellow Romans, being slaughtered by the Damned which seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. \n_____\nWe ran for what seemed like hours until the screams subsided, but the scent of the Damned remained. And it was in that moment that I had realized we had been running North the whole time, rather than South, towards Rome. I knew in that moment that we would be trapped in Germania, with a Legion of the Damned between us and home.\n\n\"What do we do?\" Opius asked me, as we helped Tiberius traverse the forest with his wound. \n\n\"We must go to Rome.\"\n\n\"Rome? It is on the other side of the world. The Damned will already be on their way.\"\n\n\"Then we move quickly.\"\n\n\"Vel, we will not make it.\"\n\n\"We must!\" I shouted at Opius, making my decision final. \"We will not desert her!\"\n\n\"He is right, Opius, we must go back.\"\n\nOpius shook his head, \"We will die.\"\n\n\"Then we will die for Rome,\" I nodded, \"for glory and for mortal men.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" Tiberius said, \"I could die for that.\"\n\nThen we heard the shriek again, the noise that the flying Demon made as it crushed dozens of our brothers. I looked to the sky and could see it, the black outline of a large creature with a long neck, and the Rider on top. The Rider that led its Damned to attack our Legion and destroy them. \n\nI ducked down, \"We may be stuck behind enemy lines, but we must try and fight to Rome.\"\n\n\"I will need time to heal.\"\n\nThe shriek persisted.\n\n\"We don't have any time.\"\n________\nI really enjoyed this prompt! I hope you enjoyed this story and you can check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work!", "(Note - I'm not sure of the difference between Greek vs Roman mythology but i'll just use Greek since I'm relatively sure they absorbed a lot of it)\n\nSoldiers of Rome!\n\nEverything you have heard is true. Hades himself has emerged from the underwold leading an army the likes of which we have never faced.Hades has decided that the time has come for him to extend his rule beyond the underworld and has come to challenge the Roman Empire for dominion.\nHe comes with a horde twisted men in brutal armor who bellow, clash, and clamor. But, they are undisciplined. They shall break upon our shield wall like a crashing wave upon a cliff and WE WILL STAND TOGETHER. UNITED. UNBROKEN. UNYIELDING.\n\nHe comes with monsters straight from legend. He comes with Gigantes, terrible, hulking, and huge carrying massive warclubs are coming with their desire for human flesh. He comes with hell hounds, fast, ferocious, and thirsting for blood. His armies are led by wraiths draped in black clothing and riding on dragons, the very grandchildren of Gaia herself. \n\nBut we are ROMANS. We who have been raised from birth on the stories of Jason and the Argonauts who slew the giants on Doliones. We who have dreamed of being Hercules, fighting the Lernaean Hydra and defeating Cerberus the hound of Hades. \n\nToday we will fulfill our dreams. We will claim our birthright and stand as equals with the heroes of old. Hades will find that on this day he faces not one Hercules, but THOUSANDS. \n\nTHAT ON THIS DAY WE WILL BECOME THE LEGENDS.", "Senators, commoners, soldiers...Whether by way of the blade, or by decay of the flesh, we will all die. It is the end that the Fates write for all of us.\n\nIn the ancient times, mortals fought against horrible writhing beasts. When faced with the most ruthless and hideous evils that threatened the lives of their families and their nations, these men fought.\n\nAnd through victory or tragedy, these mere mortals drove those evils back to the darkness of Tartarus. \n\nI come before you today, because these evils had not the decency to stay in the abyss our ancestors cast them into. They have returned writhed in flames and decay, just as our legends have told us before. They have come once again to extinguish mankind from the world.\n\nI stand before you today to remind you that every man dies...ONLY HEROES LIVE FOREVER.\n\nMan may fade, killed by any number of weapon or illness. Such is the ephemeral nature of flesh and blood. But a hero lives on, made of legend and praise...more permanent than the face of mountains\n\nDo you not remember the legends of Achilles, of Odysseus, of Hercules. These heroes were born mortal, able to live and die, but through their struggles they became so much more. They have become heroes as alive today in our hearts as the day they were born.\n\nLet me ask you now what you will choose. Will you flee? I will not stop you, because there is nowhere you can run. Will you surrender? What mercy will these beasts show you or your loved ones. Or will you FIGHT? Will you, a mere soldier, fight for you family and country? Will you stand against evil in all its hated forms? \n\nIf you will join me, then I swear that even if our fragile bodies die, we will live on FOREVER. We the Roman Legion will live on in the hearts and minds of not just Rome, but the heart of every man, woman, and child who hears our tale. And I promise, everyone will hear our tale...\n\nSo, I say CHARGE into the face of evil, and let everybody KNOW OUR NAMES...SO SAYS CAESER!*\n", "Romans!\n\nHades has brought forth his legions. The damned ancestors of our enemies stand here before us to challenge us in battle. But have faith, you who Jupiter blessed! For today we will fight with great power, because Jupiter has defeated Pluto and seized authority over the sky. We used to sing countless songs of our ancestors, who did battle with horrible monsters; if we fight with valor, they will sing many songs about us! Fight, fight with great courage, for your country and way of life!\n\n----------------Latin below----------------------\n\nRomani!\n\nPluto peperit legiones; maiores damnati hostum nostrorum ut nos pugnant stant. Sed animus cepit, cui Iuppiter benedixit! Hodie, hodie pugnabimus magna cum potestate, quoniam Iuppiter Plutonem superavit et coronam caelorum cepit. De maioribus nostris, qui contra monstra horrenda pugnant, multa carmina cantabamus; si pugnamus con animis, multa carmina nobis cantabunt! Pugnate, magna pugnate cum virtutis, pro patria moresque!" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 2, 5, 6, 14, 42 ]	[ "1454013717", "1454015889", "1454015941", "1454022314", "1454009299", "1454012432", "1454013728", "1454012610", "1454006566" ]
EDIT : Thanks for the excellent responses! A round of applause for everyone.	[WP] A love story that starts and ends in 7 days. From strangers to strangers.	123	[ "I suppose it was her beauty that first caught my eye. The flawless skin, beautiful hair, striking eyes, she knew I had eyes for her from the start. Letting out a light chuckle as she saw the cigarette in my mouth go limp as my eyes followed her. Already I could tell she wasn't like the other girls around here, they'd of just ignored me and been on their way. \n\nI stood at the same place the next day, hoping she would be at the same place again. Sure enough she walked by again looking just as radiant. I clumsily tried a greeting only for her to laugh and answer me in accented English. It wasn't flawless but it was certainly stronger than my smattering of phrases. We walked around, I learned that she took care of her mother and younger sister and brother. She invited me to dinner and I accepted, a homecooked meal sounded almost as appealing as spending an evening with her. \n\nShe told me I shouldn't bring anything, but what fun was having the connections to get anything you wanted if you couldn't use it to show off to pretty girls. Dinner went wonderfully, her mother was an amazing cook. Didn't even recognize most of the foods, and it was then I suddenly felt like I was in a fairy tale. The old me in America didn't try new things, do anything interesting. Now here I was in a foreign land, with an exotic woman, trying foods that nobody in my family had ever eaten. \n\nHer siblings were shy at first but after a while I could barely pay any attention to her with them looking through my things. The little brother looked familiar almost, probably saw him running around town while I was on duty. Her mother was a quiet, but beautiful woman. Didn-t have to ask where the father was, all too common a story these days.\n\nThe next two days she took me around to some of the sites to see. A lot of the locals looked at me with distrust, I guess these were the kind of places they didn't expect to see a white man. I tried my best to embrace the culture but it was difficult to look at the sites instead of her.\n\nThe next day I invite her to a restaraunt that's popular with the guys. I drop off some groceries when I pick her up. The evening goes well, some of the guys come up to introduce themselves and she charmed them. We were drinking, but she limited herself. I had more but limited myself to avoid being a fool. She gives me a kiss on the cheek when I drop her off at her home. I ask if tomorrow she can look at some stuff I'd acquired over the last few years.\n\nStupid I chided myself, so stupid. What good possibly could've come from showing her that stuff. I told her in the battle for the canal I'd killed an officer and had taken a few pf his things. She looked at me with disdain and I tried to backpedal, tried to tell her I wanted to find his family and return his effects. Tears sprang from her eyes when I pulled out the blade and journal. She lightly touched the blade and then used the same hand to slap me. She pointed at the blade \"my brother's\" she said. I suddenly wished my claim about wanting to return it had been genuine at the start. Maybe she'd of stayed, understood that in war people died. I feel like she could sense my dishonesty though, I'd taken those things as trophies to show off when I went back to the states.\n\nShe left me then and returned home. Wouldn't see me, I couldn't tell what her mom was saying when she kept me out but I got the hint. The next evening I went back for the last time. Her little brother was playing in the garden and I realized why he seemed familiar. I set his slain older brother's things on their doorstep and left. I didn't deserve to get the girl because heroes got the girl, and I was no hero. Maybe someday I could be though, and maybe giving that man's family back as much of their son as I could was a decent start.", "I have a thing for chocolate. Chocolate cake. Chocolate cookies. Chocolate chocolate (yes, that's a thing). From the day I laid eyes on the chocolate twisted chocolate chocolate, I knew that I was in love. I would get paid on friday, only three days away, and then we would be together at last. A match made in heaven.\n\nEvery day, I passed by the chocolate twist. I would get all light headed, and butterflies would flood my stomach. I could see myself holding and cherishing my new love. Friday came and it was mine! We had started off strangers, but now we were finally together! I made the tenacious relationship last; nibbling on it at different hours of the day.\n\nBefore I knew what had happened, it was over. Only a couple days of intense love and satisfaction; in the end, flushed down a toilet like none of it had ever taken place. I knew nothing could compare. No love could ever be as intense, and I would never - wait, they have a chocolate chocolate twisted chocolate chocolate?\n\nOnly three more days until I get paid.", "Day 1\n\n\"Ugly.\" swipe left\n\n\"Fat\" swipe left\n\n...I guess she's alright. swipe right\n\n\"There's so many filters on this picture I can't even see her.\" swipe left\n\nI've been on tinder for about a week now, but I haven't matched with anyone willing to hook up with me yet. I've got about 6 matches and none of them have gone the way I hoped. Either the chick is uninterested, simply doesn't respond, or a just a plain freak. I was just about to give up when...\n\n\"Jennifer...Hmm.. this ones kinda cute.\" It was a side profile of a girl looking off into the distance. A cute round nose, tan, eyes half closed. Her medium length hair tucked behind her ear. Her mouth left sultrily open. expand profile \n\n21, National Institute of Fashion Technology. I was slightly disappointed she didn't write a description but I've noticed its pretty common for girls around here. On the other hand, she studies fashion and i couldn't figure out why that was a merit but it was. My finger swept across the screen slowly. My eyes moving from her eyes in the first photo to her eyes in the next. \n\nHer eyes were wide open and she was making a fish face. I pushed out some air from my nostrils as a slight smile slowly crept to my face. I did not expect such a contrast from her last picture.\n\"So she's not afraid to be a goof. Thats pretty awesome.\" I noticed the filter she applied really made her cheekbones pop, but I'm sure that they'd be beautiful without one. I also couldn't help noticing that she has some curves going on for her. I had to see what else she put up. \n\nHer next picture was a four panel photoshoot with her friend that practically every girl in the world has taken with her bff. The first panel she's just smiling. But damn, her smile, its so... pure. She gives off an aura of caring energy. In the next she's pouting, which normally looks so damn dumb but she pulls it off. In fact, its pretty hot. At this point I realized that I've already made up my mind about swiping right. I couldn't get enough though, I had to check her last picture and boy was I glad I made that decision!\n\nIt was a beautiful picture of a forest and her walking away. A keen eye captured the beauty of the wilderness certainly... but no one could deny the focus of that photo was that badonkadonk. The crazy thing was it looked like a candid photo, she clearly wasn't being a hoochie mama. \n\nswipe right\n\nI spent the next few minutes looking at my profile. Updating my description, making sure the best pictures were chosen, made sure it was the best it could be.God damn I'm beautiful.\nBut honestly, it was mostly just frivolous nonsense in the end. I knew all i could do was hope. I spent the next 24 hours checking my tinder every 15 minutes. \n\nDay 2\n\nCongratulations! its a match!\n\n\"Alright!\" I fist-pumped silently to celebrate my little victory. I knew that getting a match meant that she was at least a little interested, but I still had a long way to go. I opened up the chat window. \nI wrote something, but really it might as well have been nothing. \n...\n...\nI opened her profile again. \n...\n...\nI closed it. \n...\n...\n\"I've spent too much time on this.\" I decided to go with my standard \"Hey! :) what's up?\" I was pretty much betting on her having something interesting to say. I put it away. Then I put my phone away. (haha just kidding).I got a notification one minute later. That was quick?\n\n\"hey\"\n\"just got a new puppy, busy watching everything he does haha\"\n\nAlright this is a good start I thought. She seems way more open than other girls already and it is interesting to me. I do love dogs. We talked for a bit about her new pug. I told her about how high maintenance my turtle is. It'll come across as funny and it'll show her that I think that animals are people too. Chicks dig that. Of course it worked. I AM the best after all. \n\nWe have some light conversation, talk about which bars we frequent and what colleges we're going to. We had such a good conversation, I'm afraid of ruining it now. Plus it'll show her I'm not over eager. I should tell her I've got to go. Thats mysterious, chicks dig that right? No... what if she thinks I'm just not interested. Can't have that. Hmm... Okay I'll tell her I've got to babysit my niece. Yes! Thats it! That way she knows I'm a sensitive responsible person and not some creepy guy on tinder. \n\n\"Got to babysit my niece\"\n\"ttyl\"\n\nI waited for her response.\n\n\"Aww!\"\n\"Alright, hope you hit me up soon ;)\" \n\nDamn. That could not have gone better. I smiled to myself. That night I laid in bed and fantasized about what she could be like for a long time. I didn't realize when i fell asleep because I dreamt about the same thing. \n\nDay 3\n\nA girl like this, I'm sure she has a thousand matches. Alright, gotta think of a better way to say hello. Hmm...\n\"Hey! Remember me?\"\nI think she's smart enough to understand the obvious sarcasm \n\n\"haha how could I forget you ? How's your turtle ;)?\n\nAlright! She hasn't forgotten me. Maybe she isn't as unobtainable as I first thought... Anyways, I think its time to try a sexual joke. \n\n\"Well, he could use a shell to crawl into ;)\"\n\"Or did you mean my literal turtle? :P\" \n\nHaha! Sometimes I even crack myself up. I'm so fucking awesome.\n\nHours pass by. Crap, did i just fuck up? Man I'm such an idiot. Fuck. Maybe she just didn't see it? Should I send another message? Ugh. No. I don't know... Maybe I should apologize? I'm so dumb. I was just about to craft an apology when...\n\n\"hahaha good one!\"\n\"My shell could use some company actually ;)\"\n\nI nearly jizzed myself. \n\n\"haha sooooo you free tomorrow?\"\n\nA quick reply followed.\n\n\"for you... yeah ;)\"\n\"Bring your turtle\"\n\nI took a cold shower. Don't judge me its been a while okay?!\nAs I lay in bed that night cold as fuck, I thought to myself. Why am I so obsessed with this girl? I just downloaded this lame app to hook up with easy bitches. Anyways, lets see how this goes.\n\nDay 4\n\nHit the gym extra early in the morning. Gotta get that pump yo!As I thought this I suddenly realized, man I can be such a douche sometimes. Jumped into the shower, used my special conditioner, did some manscaping. Jumped out and got dressed. I looked myself in the eye in the mirror \n\"You're the best around!\" I sang. I looked at my watch and realized i was running late. Crap.\n\nI sprinted off to the bar we agreed to see each other. Its such a genius location. If she's catfishing me I can just have a beer and leave, if we get along well then the alcohol in her system is probably only going to make things more interesting. \n\nI saw her sitting there on the bar stool, beer mug in hand. Something about her, she just seemed so...alone and fragile and it made her seem so beautiful. My palms started to sweat. I didn't feel nervous until just now. Suddenly I was terrified, but my body couldn't stop moving towards her. Somewhere along my approach which seemed to be in slow motion from my perspective, our eyes met. The din of the entire pub seemed to slowly soften until I was within earshot. \n\n\"Hey, Jennifer?\" I asked, but i knew.\n\"...Hi\" she said while I saw a smile slowly form on her face. Although she did seem slightly confused for a second. The whole thing was so surreal. It felt like neither of us broke our eye contact the whole conversation, not even blinking. \n\nDay 5\n\nI woke up to a find myself alone and slightly hungover. My first thought was \"How fucking awesome am I?\" I looked beside me to look at my beautiful Jen, only to find myself confused. \n\nI was alone. \n\nI got up quietly, thinking she was just in the bathroom getting ready. I couldn't find a sign of her even being there. She was gone as easily as she came. I was dumbfounded. Isn't it usually the guy that leaves without saying a word? I went back to bed. Laid there for a while stared at the ceiling fan spin. Maybe I just wasn't good enough in bed for her? Crap. I knew I couldn't keep a girl like that... Idiot! What was I thinking?!\n\nI looked on tinder and realized that she unmatched me. There was no way I could ever see her again...\n\nNo! I had to see her again! I went to her college campus. I would search every classroom if I had to. \n\nDay 6\n\nI searched every way I could. I just couldn't find Jennifer. It was hopeless.\n\nDay 7\n \nsigh swipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nswipe left\nNo one could compare to Jennifer\nswipe left\n...Wait. What?...It was a side profile of a girl looking off into the distance. It was Jennifer. Only, on her profile it said her name was Jessica now. It was an identical profile otherwise. You better believe I swiped right so hard. I knew she wouldn't match with me though. I'm sure she's had enough.\n\nCongratulations! its a match!\n\nWhat is going on?! I had to figure this shit out. I was about to send a message when I get one from her...\n\n\"I'm sorry\"\n\"I'm not who you think I am\"\n\"Goodbye\"\nunmatched\n\nI never saw her again. From strangers to strangers. ______________________________________________________________________________________\n\nIt's my first attempt at a prompt... be gentle!But I'd love the constructive criticism. If I get enough positive feedback maybe I'll write it from the girl's perspective. \n\nI did write this in a bit of a hurry though, I'm about to go on my first real life tinder date hahaha.Wish me luck!\n\nedit some formatting\n\n\n", "thursday.\n\ni’ve been watching you dance with yourself for five minutes now.\n\ndelicate footstep by delicate footstep, as if you’re en pointe, moving just a little closer to me each time.\n\nyou were curled into the far wall like a vine seeking comfort but you’re reaching outwards now.\n\npoor dear. you’ve mistaken my feeble shawl of fireflies for the sun. \n\ni decide to put you out of your misery.\n\nmy path to you is not a dance. it is the confident slice of a knife. mortals part before me. i stand before you. \n\nyou see beautiful, you say beautiful, and then you retreat to the safety of your wall.\n\nmy curiosity is piqued. i pursue.\n\nand i find that you are indeed quite extraordinary. you see the sun in an accident of biology. you feel cold light and think it warm.\n\nis it that you cannot withstand the brilliance of sunlight or have you just never seen it?\n\ni want answers. you want to feel the sun on your skin.\n\nwe shouldn’t find it too difficult to reach an agreement.\n\n-:-\n\nfriday.\n\nyou swear your skin is covered in burns but you laugh like they don’t hurt.\n\nmy shawl of fireflies has fled me. i can’t comprehend what you see anymore.\n\nmaybe it’s you that made me radiant. maybe you poured affection into my chest and watched it flow through my bloodstream and marveled at your own creation. i’d worry, but it feels too good to worry about.\n\nand then we leave the bed for the real world and i can feel myself dimming with each second that ticks by.\n\ni could grow addicted to this, i think, and where i should feel fear i feel excitement.\n\n-:-\n\nsaturday.\n\ni can’t get your hands on my skin fast enough. you caress my face and reach into my chest and mumble beautiful into my ear. your hands slip under my skin and reach for my heart and i’m not \n\nready for what happens next. the tip of your finger grazes my \n\naorta and i scream \n\nbecause i\n\nfeel destruction. i feel unstable power till my \n\nfingertips, i feel chunks being ripped \n\noff of the edges of my mind,\n\nand then it stops.\n\nsilence descends on us.\n\nyou’ve retreated to your familiar wall again, but it’s okay. i understand.\n\nyou touched your sun and burned it. burned it. \n\nand that makes me wonder.\n\nwas it you who drove my fireflies away?\n\ndid you see yourself reflected in me?\n\nwho is the sun?\n\n-:-\n\nsunday.\n\nyou spend the day curled up by my side.\n\ni don’t know if it really is warmer where you’re leaning on me or if i’m just imagining it.\n\nyou call me your lifeline. but the ghost of my own scream echoes in my ears and i remember tasting destruction.\n\nyou call me your lifeline. but i don’t feel the ground under my feet anymore and my fireflies won’t come back to me.\n\nyou call me your lifeline. but i think that maybe i’m the one that needs saving.\n\n-:-\n\nmonday.\n\nthere is thick air between us. \n\nwe don’t touch\n\nnot even once. \n\neven if we spoke, i doubt the sound would carry far enough to be heard.\n\nmy hands begin to feel cold. i touch them to my face and feel no difference.\n\nmaybe this is how they’ve always been.\n\na firefly lands on my fingertip at sunset.\n\n-:-\n\ntuesday,\n\nyou reach out like a shy tendril, but this time, i’m not fooled.\n\nyou touch me with one tentative fingertip and my lone firefly flees me and i scream.\n\ni am tired of your unfamiliar heat. i want my cold hands back. i want my fireflies back. i. want. you. gone.\n\nbut you don’t listen. you don’t leave. you love me.\n\ni scream some more.\n\nwhy? why? because YOUR LOVE IS AN AVALANCHE. YOUR LOVE IS THE PLAINTIVE SOUND OF SHATTERED GLASS BEING SWEPT AWAY. YOUR LOVE IS AS DEAD AS FIRE AND JUST AS DESTRUCTIVE. \n\nI WANT NO PART IN IT.\n\n-:-\n\nwednesday.\n\nyou stand on my doorstep like you’re still hoping i’ll let you stay. \n\nfor a moment, i think i just might.\n\nbut i hurt.\n\ni have been stripped to my bones. my knees clank against each other when i stand. what’s left of my brain rattles hollowly in my skull when i think. my eyes are starting to fail me.\n\ni want to feel whole again.\n\ni close the door on you and wait for my light to return to me.\n\n-:-\n\n(also on my tumblr [here](http://http://lullabies-like-distant-screams.tumblr.com/tagged/seven-day-love-story))", "The first day was magnificent.\nI could see her everywhere I went.\nIn my coffee, in my shoes,\nIn the t.v while watching news.\nShe had me acting like a kid.\nThough I didn't know her name.\n\nOn the second day, a slow approach.\nI felt I had to make the most.\nI looked at her and she at me.\nWe both saw the spark quite instantly.\nI said, \"Hello, my name is Sid\"\nand thus I lit the flame.\n\nThings were quickening by the third.\nWe both were fond of watching birds.\nShe played checkers, I played chess.\nWe played each other to see who's best\nI fell hard. You bet I did.\nWhen she beat me at my game.\n\nDay four, our hearts kept up the pace.\nThough we knew it was not a race.\nJust being in her company,\nwas the best kind of fun for me.\nNothing about it was a quiz.\nShe was my kind of dame.\n\nA question came up upon the fifth.\nI asked exactly where she lived.\nAnd the answer so perfect you can ignore\nher room was down one floor!\nHopeless romance, I'm in bliss.\nLove the culprit to blame.\n\n6 days have passed and still I see.\nThe reasons why it's meant to be.\nGracefully across the common room\nshe is dancing with a broom!\nTruly a small world this is.\nWe both wound up insane.\n\nA week has now come and gone.\nI ask the nurse if she's seen my blonde.\nI find her and a blank stare in her eyes.\nI see, my face, she doesn't recognize.\nJust one day of meds she missed.\nnow I swallow the pain.\n\n", "Takashi sat silently in the new Lexus, scanning the area for threats.\n\nYokari-san was generous to those who served him well, and the new car was to show his appreciation to Takashi for keeping his only daughter safe the last three years.\n\nThe neon sign flashed its signal to the night. Dance. As if Yuki needed to know how to dance.\n\nTakashi had never met anyone so in tune with herself as Yuki. She always moved in rhythm, and her weekly dance lessons had only accentuated the effect on her sixteen-year old body.\n\nHe was Samurai. And that was enough. He needed to remind himself of that more often now that he was her primary bodyguard.\n\nYuki moved through the space around her like Takashi cut through the air with his eight cuts. Each angle carefully selected for maximum effect.\n\nIt had been three years since the first attack outside her school, and several months since the last attempt.\n\nThe last attack was still fresh on his mind. It kept him alert. And in pain, he thought, as he massaged his right hip absentmindedly. The two were not mutually exclusive.\n\nThe wound had not been as deep as it could have been. But it was deep.\n\nDistracted by his thoughts, he didn't see the gray Mercedes pull up next to him until the last moment. Alarm bells rang out in Takashi's head as he realized he didn't recognize the car.\n\nThe windows were tinted with a mirror finish, and he tensed, half-expecting that this was the end. His end. That a torrent of gunfire would cut through him in the next moment.\n\nIn a way, that's what it felt like when she opened her door and he saw her for the first time. Like ... one life was over and another was starting.\n\nShe was beautiful in ways his mind couldn't quite fathom. Certainly in ways he had never considered. Her dark hair cascaded around her perfectly proportioned face to petite, yet strong shoulders accentuated by the stripes of her tracksuit. And her yoga pants fit perfectly, he noted as she moved towards the building.\n\nHe was Samurai. That meant he had a mission. She was new and needed to be investigated, he told himself as he exited the car and followed her inside.\n\nStill, if the opportunity arose to introduce himself and learn her name ... well, no one would blame him for being thorough.\n\n...\n\nSeven days later. \n\nTakashi had been on three dates now with Akemi, the new dance teacher. Tonight would be the fourth. Her birthday.\n\nHe sat in the plush leather seat watching the craftsman make her birthday present.\n\nShe was seven days younger than him. Seven. Lucky. Just as he was for getting to know her.\n\nThe craftsman finished his work and blew on the thin metal to remove the last shavings, then placed it in a small brown envelope and handed it to him. \"242 yen,\" he said.\n\nTakashi paid the man gladly. A bargain.\n\nHe was more relaxed than ... well, anytime that he could remember. Yuki was safe at home with no activities after a sick teacher had cancelled a music lesson, and Takashi had planned his rare, lucky evening alone carefully around his time with Akemi.\n\nTakashi glanced at his watch. Late!\n\nHe drove too fast getting home, but traffic was light. \n\nOnce inside, he set the package of candles onto the table and started dinner. His precious eight cuts didn't translate to the knife work in the kitchen, but his knives - like his blade - were kept razor sharp. He diced the vegetables and meats expertly.\n\nTakashi had grown up in Yokari-san's household. His mother and father had died in a car accident when he was six.\n\nYokari had taken him in, but only as a place to learn and grow. So Yokari paid for Takashi to attend the best schools and to be trained by the best swordsman, but he was no father to Takashi.\n\nThat was right. He was Samurai and Samurai need a master. Not a father.\n\nSince Takashi had more in common with the servants of the household, he had learned kitchen work early, and he took great pride in his culinary skills. It was from them that he had learned to keep his cookware hung and in good quality always. He glanced up at the stainless steel brightened to a mirror's sheen by careful polishing and a gentle smile crossed his lips. Everything must be perfect.\n\nOnce dinner was cooked and simmering, he set and lit the aromatic candles on the table and dimmed the lights of his three-room apartment. A fresh scent of citrus mixed with the salivating aroma of dinner.\n\nA knock!\n\nTakashi looked again at his apartment for anything out of place. It was sparsely furnished, but the furniture was of the highest quality. Takashi had good taste. Expensive, lasting taste. He saved his money and lived in frugality to afford it.\n\nBut no, everything was where it should be. He patted the pocket of his jeans to check for the gift and heard the rewarding crackle of the thin paper.\n\nGlancing through the peephole, he saw Akemi. Akemi. Bright Beauty. And she was.\nHe opened the door and hugged her close. She laughed.\n\n\"Ohhh, everything smells so good, Takashi! I'm excited!\"\n\n\"You smell better, Akemi. Come, come.\"\n\nAnd Takashi led her to her seat by the hand and poured them each a glass of wine.\n\nShe sat, eyes following him as he moved through the kitchen, checking each dish to make sure everything was the right temperature and texture.\n\nAkemi watched him quietly, waiting. When his back was turned, she carefully removed the top of the tiny bottle she had hidden in her grasp and continued to watch Takashi carefully as she poured its liquid contents into his wine glass. Then, breathing a quiet sigh she didn't know she had been holding, she quickly replaced the cap and slipped it into the bra underneath her thin black dress.\n\nTakashi returned with the soup and main dish and placed them on the table. He ladled out their soup, hers first and then his, and then sat at the seat closest to her. It was at an angle so they could see each other's face and yet still be in close proximity.\n\nEven the few feet directly across from her was too far for Takashi's love.\n\nThe soup was excellent. They finished their bowls in silent appreciation, gazing into each other's eyes. She drank her wine, looking at Takashi expectantly. Hoping. Praying.\n\nHe grasped the glass with his left hand and raised it to his lips, his eyes full of love.\n\nAnd then they changed as Takashi plunged the knife he had hidden in his pocket into her perfect chest and knocking her backwards off of her chair and to the ground.\n\n\"How?\" She asked as she began to die.\n\n\"I saw you in the reflection,\" he explained. \"Lucky, I guess. Who do you work for?\"\n\nShe smiled sadly and shook her head. And then she died.\n\nTakashi watched her in silence for a while. Making sure. \n\nFinally, he removed the gift from his pocket placed the key to his apartment on her chest, now reddened with blood.\n\nStrangers to lovers to strangers. All in seven days.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\nThis is a continuation of a former story. [Part 1 is here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/435a38/wp_you_work_for_the_yakuza_your_boss_has_gotten/czfw261). The story continues in [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/44drko/wpa_knife_flashes_toward_your_heart_the_last/czq1nc9).", "The day I met Opal wasn't exactly special. It was an ordinary Saturday, overcast, a little nippy. Nippy enough to warrant a scarf, at least. Despite the chill, my whim compelled me to make an extra stop on my afternoon walk, between the post office and the grocery store. It was a place I'd visited before, and the residents were usually pleased to see me. Well, either that or asleep, but you know what I mean.\n\nOpal was a new face that day. She was an older girl. I've heard many a time that the older ones have a lot more trouble getting adopted, and perhaps that swayed me, but I like to think the motive was unimportant. I knew from the moment I scratched the side of her face and got that gravelly meow out of her that I wanted to take her home.\n\nThe hard part was committing to do it. The shelter was closed on Sunday, but I paid visits Monday and Tuesday night of that week, and neither time could I work up the nerve to ask the staff about adoption. I couldn't, I told myself. I couldn't afford a cat. I would do better to put my money towards my student loans than cat food, litter, and my apartment's pet rent. I didn't visit on Wednesday. I couldn't make up my mind. But Wednesday night, before I went to bed, I finally said to myself, yes, I would do it. I would bring Opal home. I went and spoke with the staff of the apartment complex on Thursday to confirm the pet rent policy. I bought kibble, I bought a litter box, I bought a comb, I bought a feather on a stick and a laser pointer. I was going to do it, and I was going to be prepared.\n\nI went in on Friday, and Opal was gone. The kindly woman at the desk told me that Opal had already been adopted. It took me a second to accept, but then I smiled as best I could, thanked the woman for her time, and left the shelter.\n\nI'm happy for Opal, don't get me wrong. She has a loving family now, as she deserves. But that doesn't stop the sting in my chest.", "Monday morning. I first saw him on the train and then again in the hotel lobby. He was tall, handsome in his business suit and maybe a little old for me. But there was still something there I found intriguing. I overheard him say he was going to be staying for a week. Sheena checked him in and gave him room 704, one of mine. I'd changed the sheets, cleaned the tub and toilet, and put out fresh soaps and shampoos just yesterday. \n\nHe didn't notice me coming out of the back after I clocked in for my shift. Funny how people won't look at you or just don't notice you when you're pushing this huge cart full of cleaning supplies right in front of them. I saw him board the elevator, and hurried in to get a better look. He smelled really nice. Whatever it was, I am guessing a bottle of it costs more than I make in a week.\n\nHe exited the elevator on the seventh floor, and I watched until the doors closed, heading on up to floor nine to begin my work. He wouldn't need me to do anything in his suite until tomorrow, probably.\n\nI smelled like bleach when I rode the train home. All I could think of was how nice he had smelled, and wouldn't it be great to smell like that after a hug from him, instead of like bleach after a day of cleaning toilets. I indulged myself in a romantic fantasy, daydreaming about meeting up with him in the hotel bar, dressed in something much more appealing than my uniform. No hair net. \n\nTuesday around nine, he put the little plastic placard on the door knob, letting me know he was ready for a clean. I'd been past the room a couple of times already, eager to see what more I could learn about him, besides the fact that he was good looking, older, and smelled nice. He was gone when I went in. \n\nBrooks Brothers shirts pressed neatly, hung in a row in the closet. Pants and jackets each in their group; and one pair of jeans; one pair of sneakers; pajamas and underwear, t shirts- everything smelled like it was freshly laundered, but slightly carried a memory of him. There was a book on the table, and a single empty soda can.\n\nThere wasn't much to clean, but I lingered longer than I should have. For some reason, I looked around before I did this, but then I laid down in the bed, squeezing the pillow for a second and pretended it was him- that scent was all over it. I heard the electronic lock engage as a card slid in it, and I almost wet myself jumping out of the bed and positioning myself to appear as though I'd only been making it.\n\n\"Oh, hi there, I just came back to grab something, and I'll be out of your way,\" he said, picking up a small leather binder off of an end table. His smile was warm and his eyes were green. I'd never seen lashes like that on a man . He was even more handsome than I'd noticed before.\n\nI couldn't speak, so I just smiled and nodded. He told me to have a wonderful day. I barely squeaked out \"OK, \" and out the door, he was gone. It was then that I noticed my reflection in the big mirror opposite the bed. Oh, shit! My hair was all over the place from having just moments before smushed my face into his pillow. I turned bright red, and thanked the gods no one could see me now. \n\nFucking Charlotte. I was still red and blotchy when I exited the room, and there she was, coming out of the elevator. \"Jennifer, take a allergy pill or something, please, you look like shit. Did you get the rooms on floor nine yet?\" \n\n\"Yes, Charlotte. I've finished nine, eight, and seven. I'm heading down to six now.\" Secretly, I wanted to kick her in the shins and run. In six months of working here, I've never been anything but efficient and fast. She knows that, but feels like she has to make herself look like she's motivating everyone.\n\nAll day Wednesday he had the do not disturb placard on the doorknob. I could hear people talking when I went by. Mostly men, but it sounded like at least one woman was in there, laughing. I went by a few times more than I should have, but I still got my work done on time.\n\nThursday was my day off, and I felt stupid for wanting to be there anyway. What kind of dummy wants to clean toilets just so they can look at some rich guy that's never going to give her a second thought? I walked the dog and we somehow ended up walking by the hotel. No sightings of the handsome Mr. Green Eyes.\nPoor Chuy, his little legs were not meant to walk that far, so I carried him home. \n\nFriday, I went in early, so that Maggie could go to a parent-teacher thing, and I saw him at the breakfast buffet. There were two other well dressed men and a woman with dirty blond hair talking to them with lipstick smeared across her teeth. She was laughing and touched one of the men on his arm. Then she turned to Mr. Green eyes and said \"Remember the conference in Buffalo? When we were all snowed in and had to stay there an extra two days? Good God, I'm glad we're in Miami this year!\"\n\nI got my coffee and went to tell Maggie I was here and she could leave.\n\nWhen I got to room 704, it was a bit more used than it had been the other day. There were dirty glasses and moisture rings on the table. His jeans were crumpled up and laying in the floor in front of the TV. I hung them in the closet, and began wiping everything down. I found an earring in the floor next to the bed, and set it on the dresser with a note. I wrote and tossed, and rewrote the note several times, finally settling on \"Found this while cleaning, did not see it's mate,\" a smiley face, and my name, with the word housekeeping in parenthesis. Mr. green Eyes and Dirty Blond Lady were probably shagging. I finished cleaning the room, made the bed, without noticing any dirty blond hairs, and left.\n\nSaturday, after my shift, I decided I would go out for a drink. It's against policy to drink in the hotel bar, so I changed in the staff bathroom, and headed to the place we all go- since I don't really know anybody that doesn't work with me. I sat down at the bar and talked to Mike the bartender, while he made me a Long Island Tea. No one else was there yet, it was kind of early, maybe sevenish. \n\nI was hungry, so I ordered some chili cheese fries, and right when they came, Mr. Green Eyes walked in. He was alone. The place was still mostly empty, and there he was- walking right towards me.\n\n\"Jennifer?\" The way he said it gave me goosebumps. Or maybe that was just a cool Atlantic breeze coming in from the open patio doors. I had on a simple blue dress with a low back, and the doors were right behind me.\n\nI nodded my head, and said \"704, right?\"\n\n\"That's right,\" he smiled. \"Thanks for putting Kim's earring on the dresser- she probably lost it along with her dignity, when she was drunkenly trying to get me to sit on the bed with her. \n\n\"That must have been fun.\" I raised my eyebrows involuntarily when I said that.\n\n\"Not really. I've worked with her for years, and she's married to a man I play golf with from time to time. I told her I was gay last year, thinking that might make her quit with the advances. No such luck.\"\n\n\"Are you gay?\" I smiled.\n\n\"Yes. I'm gay. I'm getting married next August, to my boyfriend of twenty years.\"\n\n\"Want some of my fries?\" That was all I could think of to say at the moment. Mr. Green Eyes was so out of my league, ha ha, but he was so nice, and smelled so good. He smiled and stuffed a chili cheese fry in his mouth.\n\nWe spent that whole night hanging out together. He bought me dinner, and we talked about Miami, dogs, music. Then we went dancing. He could salsa like a pro, and we had a lot of fun. We ended up walking on the beach at sunrise Sunday morning. He told me he was leaving in the afternoon, heading back home to San Diego, and his boyfriend. \n\n\"Well, Mr. Green Eyes, that was the best night out I've had in Miami so far, and I would like to thank you for spending it with me.\" I smiled and we walked back to the hotel. \n\n\"Can I get a hug?\" He asked. His embrace was so comfortable, and I was enveloped in the warmth of his arms, and the scent of his cologne.\n\nHis name was actually Paul, and clearly, he was not the one for me. But I will always remember those eyes, and that wonderful scent.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "11:30pm. Sunday. \nThe door slides shut. The street lamp highlights her lumpy silhouette as she trudges down the sodden path. This is the last time I’ll watch her leave. I’ll move on. There will be someone out there for me. Someone that understands.\n\nMonday. 8:40am. \nStunning. Absolutely stunning. I was in my usual spot finishing a coffee. A spot I’ve sat in a hundred times before but I’ve never seen her. The rain was lashing down, the wind grabbing at her dress while she gracefully prevented it from riding too high with carefully placed palms on her thighs. No jacket, no umbrella. She must live close. And probably works around here too. She saw me and cast a nervous smile, but there was something in it. Innocence but still the impression of an invitation deep in the eyes. There was something in it!\n\n11:45pm. \nI saw her again. Different clothes, hair changed and walking the other direction. Out so late. Off to see her boyfriend no doubt. Silly of me for even thinking. Idiot. It was just a smile. There is no one out there for me.\n\nTuesday. 9am. \nI saw her again in the same clothes as last night. I just wanted to put the idea out my head for good so I followed her a little bit. I followed her to her flat. Small place, must be a one bed and no sign of boyfriend. It dawned on me she probably works a night shift somewhere. Maybe I’ll find out where later.\n \nWednesday. 8am. \nA really long night. I couldn’t get her out of my head yesterday. Why am I doing this to myself again? It turns out she works at a service station 5 minute from here. She must be new to the area or I would have seen her. Probably doesn’t have many friends or family yet. I sat close to her place this morning. Thought about how I could ‘bump’ into her and start a conversation. Maybe get a dog and have it jump up at her… dress as a delivery guy with a package for a neighbor. I’m useless when it comes to women. Instead I just sat there making up improbable situations for us to meet. \n\n9am. \nShe works at a service station! I just need to go in and talk to her. I could build a relationship with her over time. Try and find out a bit more about her. Talk about her interests. I’m going to do it. I’m going to talk to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’m going to be confident and she is going to fall in love with me. I’m doing it tonight. \n\nThursday. 2am. \nUseless. \n\n11:30am. \nI couldn’t do it. I saw her leave her house, no dress today. Jeans. Still striking. I took my time. Went in around 1am and grabbed a 6 pack. ‘Just off to a house party’. Yes. Says I’m local, have friends, likes to have fun. ‘What time do you get off? – maybe you can join’. Perfect line. ‘Oh you won’t finish until at least 7. I’ll be walking back then – maybe I can walk you home’. \n\nNo. I stood there in silence. Handed her the beer and when she looked up at me I lowered my eyes to my feet. My pathetic shoes propping up a pathetic excuse for a man. She said nothing. Why would she. Look at me. I walked out the door. \n\nFriday. 6am. \nAm I in love with her? Or am I in love with an idea. A dream of getting out of this life. \n\nFriday. 2pm. \nI WILL talk to her tonight.\n\nSaturday. 1am. \nShe didn’t walk past tonight. She wasn’t at work. She wasn’t at home. Night off I guess. \n\nSunday. 10am. \nIt’s over. I don’t know why I thought things could be different. I was going to talk to her. I saw it all unfold. I got new clothes. We had our first date. I moved into her flat and then we saved up to get a bigger one with a second bedroom for our first child. Marriage. Love. \n\nI walked in and picked up a sick pack. Marched to the checkout head high. Placed down the beer, looked into her eyes. And froze. I just stared at her. I could see the pity in her eyes. No invitation. Just sadness at the wretch stood in front of her. Dirt on my face, toes poking through those pathetic shoes. \n\n‘It’s ok’ she said. ‘You were here the other day right? Maybe the drink isn’t the answer. My uncle fell on hard times too – lost his house, was on the streets too but he turned his life around. Once he put the drink down. There are places you can go you know – so you don’t have to be outside. On your own. Especially in this weather.’ She smiled. Pushed the 6 pack to side and pointed to the coffee machine instead. ‘Have one of those on me’.\n\nPity. All she sees is a bum. A drunk. \n\nHer uncle! Fuck her. \n\nSunday. 1pm. \nI hate her. How dare she! \n\n11:30pm. Sunday. \nThe door slides shut. The street lamp highlights her lumpy silhouette as she trudges down the sodden path. This is the last time I’ll watch her leave. I’ll move on. There will be someone out there for me. Someone that understands.\n" ]	[ 1, 2, 2, 2, 4, 5, 6, 11, 67 ]	[ "1454087695", "1454089553", "1454091066", "1454147551", "1454071114", "1454083658", "1454081031", "1454084936", "1454061366" ]
	[WP] Whenever you get chills, you just died in an alternate universe.	1,273	[ "Originally I dismissed them. I mean, who doesn't get chills from time to time? Right? Sometimes they can be quite satisfying, like a release in your system. Only recently did they start to get...unnerving. \nThey started out in little waves- lasting for a few seconds longer each time they occurred; perhaps two every minute at the least and as much as twenty to twenty five at their peak. \nToday I hit fifty. \nNo, it wasn't just one, really long, shiver, it was fifty distinct sometimes crippling rattlings; it was like my skeleton was trying to escape from my skin.\nOverwhelming dread would envelop me, all the colour in the world would seem duller, as if it had lost its quintessential spark. It was terrifying.\nRight now I'm on number thirty two and I'm only forty seconds in, I think I may be going for the record. \nI'm starting to hear things, strange things, like distant, echoing cries. The most disturbing of all is I feel like I recognise the cries, recognise the desperate voice.\nThey are getting louder, almost as if the source of the turmoil is getting closer, breaking down the barrier to reach me.\nForty seven in fifty seconds. \nThe screams are unimaginably clear now, I can hear every crack in the owner's voice, many times I have had to look around to check they were not in the room.\nFifty six in the same number seconds. \nEverything seems grey-scale now, like a bad instagram filter, it is like my world is dying. \nThe sky has turned black; everything looks like it is spinning, like a toddler swirling their finger in the sand. \nI start to scream. ", "I have thought that every close call or times when you would have been in a position to die (hopping off a train that later crashed) is in reality your self conscious moving to a different universe from the one where you actually die.\n\nTalk about leveling up", "You know growing up in the south I've always heard that a chill down your spine meant someone just walked across your grave but I like this better. The shiver is like a survivor's guilt thing. I'm going to start spreading this as the new idiom of our generation.", "Rick: \"Do you want me to explain the math Morty?! Do you?! Put some damn clothes on, otherwise the council of Rick will come after me again!\"", "Wait a minute, you're telling me those motherfuckers have all seen me naked? OK, I'm going outside until the snow don't feel cold no more.", "Tuesdays are harder than Mondays. You've already worked a full day and the majority of the work week is still staring you in the face. It's even tougher when your cubicle has a view of the crisp blue morning sky outside. What I wouldn't give for a reason not to be at work...\n\nSarah looks beautiful today. I mean, she looks beautiful everyday, but today it almost seems like she's shining. Her radiant blonde hair let down past her shoulders and her soft blue eyes are enough to make me weak in the knees. Even though she sits just ten feet away, I've never managed to muster the courage to talk to her. I mean really talk to her. \"I'm going to do it today\", I mumbled nervously. It was almost a daily mantra. \n\nShe glanced over my direction and caught me mid-stare. Crap. I darted my eyes quickly back to the screen ahead of me and began typing again. I heard a soft chuckle shared between her and Barry. Why was I staring so long. People can tell when you're looking at them... almost like you're focusing invisible energy their direction. \n\nFootsteps. She's coming to talk to me. I can feel my cheeks heat up as I double-down on my bluff by hammering away at the keys in front of me. \n\n\"Good morning.\" she chirped with a coy half-smile. Even when she's poking at me she's perfect. \n\n\"Sarah! H-Hi. Uh, yeah, good morning! How are you?\" I wondered if she could tell how flustered I was. Maintain composure. You can do this. \n\n\"A little tired and a little hungry, but fine otherwise. Y-\" \n\n\"We should go for a coffee!\" I blurted with near immediate regret. If there's one thing my pops didn't teach me, it was how to talk to women. \n\n\"Oh. Isn't it a little early for a break? I mean-\"\n\n\"Goodness, you're right.\" I interrupted. \"I don't know what I was thinking... Sorry. I mean, work only just started, right? Heh... It'd be pretty weird if we just left after arriving...\"\n\n\"Actually, I'm starving. I slept through my alarm this morning and didn't have time to do anything but rush to work. Think anyone would notice if we left?\"\n\nAnother smile. This woman could surely unravel me like a kitten to a ball of yarn. A bead of sweat found its way to my brow as I considered the conversation with my boss if my desk was discovered empty. I doubted I had the nerve to play hooky, let alone head out for an impromptu breakfast with Sarah. I knew I had to decline.\n________________________________________________________________\n\nI didn't manage to say a word the entire 39-storey elevator ride down. I stood there rigid as a board and felt the pressure in my ears build until the release just before we made it to the ground floor. The late summer morning was a bit chilly and helped me get my faculties about me. \n\n\"So,\" she asked. \"Where are we headed?\"\n\n\"I know a little place just off Church St.\" I suggested.\n\n\"Sounds great!\" \n\nThe city engulfed us in a rehearsal of hums, honks and chatter. After a short walk, we found ourselves at a small espresso bar perfumed with the wonderful aroma of freshly ground coffee beans. Though I've always loved the smell, the taste never really appealed. She ordered a latte macchiato and biscotti and I asked for a tea. We found a lone table at the back of the crowded cafe and sat down. \n\nWhy is it that, when you so desperately want to talk, it's so hard to find something to say? She spoke first. \n\n\"So, rumour has it you're a bit of a nerd.\"\n\nI nearly sputtered out some tea. Great. The woman of my dreams thinks I'm a dork. \n\n\"Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that. I guess Barry must have let that go, huh? I just really like to interact with people and I find games to be the best medium to do so. Video games... board games... I guess that is pretty nerdy.\"\n\n\"That's not so bad.\" She chimed. \"You know, I enjoy-\"\n\nBOOM\n\nEdit: Up to three parts now. Wonder how many people have figured it out. You're a smart bunch. Please don't spoil the reveal! :)", "Hi. My name is Indigo. Yes, like the color, shut up. I’m just your average twenty-five year old male living his life in California. My life is all about work. Work work work work work work work. Wake up early to go to work. Deal with problems at work. Come home exhausted from work. Get emails about work while at home. Get ready for work the next day. I’m tired of it. I wish my life were more exciting. \n\nWell, I got my wish.\n\nIt started off slowly. Occasionally, I’d feel a chill in the air. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Usually it happened when going to the bathroom, y’know, the pissing shiver you get sometimes. Then it started to happen more frequently, and, not in the bathroom. It would happen when going to bed, when jacking off, or even just sitting there eating a bowl of freaking cereal. It became a real hassle. It started to worry me that something was wrong with my brain, some defect that laid dormant my entire life but is just now starting to reveal itself. \n\nI went to the hospital to get it checked out. The doctor checked my pulse, my temperature, shined a light in my eye, shoved a black cone in my ear, held down my tongue while I said,”Ahhhhh.” The works. \n\nFinally, he sat down in his backless, spinning, circular chair and said, “What seems to be the problem today... Indigo?” he says my name with a question as if asking me he’s saying it right.\n\nI opened my mouth to tell him what’s wrong, but I had no idea where to start. After a long pause, with my mouth hanging open stupidly, I finally got out, “Do you believe in ghosts, doctor?”\n\nThe doctor’s look of surprise says he definitely hadn’t heard that one before. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said slowly, calculatingly. \n\n“Well, I keep having these... chills. The room goes cold and I feel a shiver down my spine.”\n\n“Chills? So, your first logical step was... ghosts?”\n\n“Yeah, that was my best explanation. That’s why I came to you, doc.”\n\n“Hrm,” the doctor said, pondering. “Well, there are some tests we can perform, if you can afford them.”\n\n“Whatever you need doc. I got the best insurance I could find. I’m cautious like that.” The doctor began to perform all kinds of tests. EKG, MRI, X-RAY, and many other acronyms that he couldn’t remember. All of them came without significant results.\n\n“I am completely stumped. I have no idea what is causing your affliction,” the doctor said in frustration. “Maybe it’s all in your head.”\n\nI rolled my eyes and said, “Well, thanks doc,” with as little sarcasm I can muster. “You were all too happy to waste my time and my insurance’s money with those tests though, weren’t you?”\n\nThe doctor looked aghast at my statement, but I didn’t wait around for him to refute it, I just left the room.\n\nWeeks passed with a sharp increase in the amount of chills I experience. They happened several times a day. I used to try to count them, but I lost count at around two hundred. It started to affect my work. My co-workers started to notice my shiverings and they’d tease me with names like, “Blue,” because I always seemed so cold. \n\nFrustration and anger filled my days. All I wanted to know is why! Why does this keep happening, over and over and over again?!\n\nWell, I got my answer.\n\nIt was a normal Saturday afternoon, where I didn’t have to go to work. I had plans later that night to meet up with friends at a bar walking distance from where I lived. There was a bang at the front door, as if someone were trying to break it down. I stopped my hand halfway to my mouth with a spoon filled with the soup I was eating. Silence. Another loud bang at the door and it falls to the ground with a thud. I drop my spoon and run to my bedroom where I know I have a loaded gun to ward off burglars. \n\nI didn’t even get halfway across the hall when a knee found my groin. A large hand grabbed the back of my head by the hair as I was falling. He pulled me up roughly, and I saw the most bizarre sight of my life. Two men stand on either side of a strangely dressed man with the third holding me up. Each of them were dressed in extremely flashy, neon colored clothes that seemed to light up the room more than the florescent bulbs in the ceiling. If the men beside him were considered flashy, the man standing between them was blinding. I would’ve thought him and his entourage looked hilarious if the situation were different. He had a malevolent grin on his face.\n\nHe opened his mouth and an odd, warbling effect accompanied his voice, as if it were coming from speakers on his collar. “I found you again, little bitch.” He then went on to tell me his master plan, not unlike a bond villain. His monologue never ceased for a second, he seemed to take breaths imperceptibly fast so his speech could continue uninterrupted. \n\nApparently, in some far distant universe, I had pissed this guy off. Really, really bad. So he vowed he would kill me a thousand times. He leans in close and whispers in my ear, “Three hundred and forty-three,” before he jabs a knife into my sternum. I never even got to find out what I even did to piss him off.\n\n.............................\n\nHi. My name is Violet. Yes, like the color, shut up. I know it’s a girl’s name, shut up again. I’m just your average twenty-five year old male living in Mumbai. That’s somewhere in India, not sure where exactly. I moved here for the women. My life is all about sex. Sex sex sex sex sex sex sex. Wake up with a woman in my bed. Find women everywhere I go. Bring women home to have sex. Get texts from women I’ve sexed in the past. I love my life. It’s exactly what I want it to be.\n\nIt all went so wrong.\n\nIt started off slowly, but grew quickly. Chills when doing ordinary activities, such as pissing, eating waffles, and it even started to affect me when having sex. At times like this, I wish I were more careful with my money so I could afford to go to the doctor’s to get it checked out. No insurance meant no medical care, and paying for a doctor’s visit outright was ridiculous.\n\nIt was affecting my love life. While having sex, I’d get these weird spasms of chills and it would completely demoralize me. The woman I was with at the time would invariably laugh at me, call me a joke, and leave, saying that I was such a disappointing fuck and hadn’t lived up to their friends’ hype.This chills thing pissed me the fuck off. I hated it. I wished it would just go away.\n\nWell, in a way, it did.\n\nOn an average day in summer, after a particularly bad day of striking out with women in one of my usual spots (I had a couple massive chills that made them weary) I went home, frustrated. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I went to bed early.\n\nA loud crash in the next room woke me up and I threw off my covers and ran toward the noise. As I entered the room, a sharp pain met me in the side of the head. I fell to the ground, bleeding from my ear. The room spins maddeningly. I’m picked up roughly from the ground and made to stand, but I’m so wobbly that whoever picked me up simply had to hold me there.\n\nA brightly colored man swam into view. As he spoke, I could barely understand him, a high-pitched noise began to drown him out from my busted ear. He said something about me doing something to him. I couldn’t remember ever seeing his face before. I try to speak, but whatever broke my ear, must’ve damaged my brain too, for speech came out warbled, disjointed, and unintelligible. He stopped his speech mid-sentence, looked at the state I was in, and gave up on his long-winded explanation. He leaned in close and whispered into my good ear, “Four hundred and twelve.” He took a needle from a hidden pocket in his clothes and injected something into my veins. Pain spidered out from the injection site and I fell twitching to the ground as whoever held me up released me. The last thing I saw was bright lights, that walked away from me.\n\n.............................\n\nHi. My name is Ruby. Yes, like the color. I’m just an unimportant twenty-five year old female. The doctors say I’m depressed and gave me drugs to help. I’ve tried to live my life, but it’s just too much work. I suck. Life sucks. Everything sucks. No one needs me and no one would miss me if I just disappeared.\n\nLife got even harder.\n\nIt started off slowly, and crippled me immediately. Chills ran through my body, and the doctors all thought it was adverse affects of the medication they put me on, so they started to wean me off of them. Nothing helped. I hated that I was losing my mind. The shivers made me wish even more strongly that I was dead. \n\nWell, I got my wish.\n\nEarly Monday morning, after I had called into work lying I was sick, I heard a knock on the door. I went to answer it and for one blinding moment, I thought the circus had paraded itself to my front door. I got one glimpse of the brightly dressed men, before a strong hand clamped around my throat. My survival instinct took hold and I clawed at his hand with my nails, but he just squeezed harder. A grin spread across his face. He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Six hundred and ninety-three.” That’s all I heard before I blacked out.\n\n.............................\n\nCont.", "What if, whenever I got chills, an alternate universe version of me had died? \nI get chills whenever I listen to my favorite song. \nDoes it matter? \nAre they even real? \nI've never met them. \nBut I do have a deep connection to the song. \nCan I ever listen to it again? \nWhat would that mean? \nWould it be my fault? \nIs it worth it? \nWould they have died anyway? \nCould I live with myself, not knowing? ", "Way back when there was a superstition that it was triggered by someone walking over your grave. Wherever that came from, someone either had a vague idea what was actually happening, or got lucky. I don’t know too much about it, but the reality was stumbled on shortly after the other dimensions were discovered. We don’t know quite how many there are but it’s likely in the low thousands, the scientists have had cameras and recording devices sent between them for years now and we have a good idea what goes on, but sending anything living through is impossible so no one has been able to visit. Unlike what we see in a lot of fiction there’s no world where hte Nazis one, Dinosaurs and man live together, WWIII happened, history has been pretty much the same, just certain people die at different times which it turns out doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.\n\nIt happens a few time a year, increasing as you get older and your chance of dying increases, both in regularity and strength. Physically it’s the same but everyone reacts to it differently, some people have apps or books and keep a track of times and dates, some ignore it and pretend nothing happened, some get so guilty they consider ending it, which brings with it the dilemma that they will be pushing the same feelings onto another them.\nSometimes you’ll feel the shivers close together, when the timelines of a few worlds are well aligned enough that you die in two or more at the same time. Occasionally they will stop you in your tracks when you realise what has happened. On a rare occasion, by far the worst, the timelines are aligned with yours in a way that you know what has happened, a car crash, near drowning, fall, the life flashing before your eyes isn’t yours, it’s the life of the version of you that wasn’t so lucky.\n\nFor me recently it’s been different. It started a few weeks back, I was woken with a start, it was almost a convulsion. I figured it must have just been amplified by the hangover to start with, but then it happened again a few hours later. At first I though it must have been two worlds a few hours out of sync, which wouldn’t be that rare, but then it happened again. Over the next few days it continued with increasing regularity and intensity. I paid a visit to the doctor to see if it was something else, figuring it could be down to an illness, but they couldn’t find anything. I tried some of the internet forums, along with the usual conspiracy bullshit, everything's made up, they put something in our water to control us, chemtrails, etc., there were a few instances of this happening to other people, just like me they were scared.\n\nThere was only lady who was local, we arranged to meet for a coffee. She was visibly shaken, like me hadn’t slept properly since it started happening and hadn’t left the house much for fear of people thinking we were losing it. We sat in silence and stared at each other for what seemed like hours, just being in the company of someone else who knew what we were going through help more than I had expected. Then I felt it, one of the strongest I’d had, across the table I could see the same happened to her, the coffee slipped out of her hands onto the floor and she crumped, head to her knees and started sobbing. The barista hearing the mug shatter came over to see what had happened, at this point she was inconsolable and I was paralysed in shock. I don’t know how long we were like that for, but when we regained composure we made our apologies and left. Looking back on what followed it probably wasn’t the best option, but we parted ways agreeing to meet back up shortly when we had the energy to converse.\n\nI spent the next few hours thinking over what had happened, were there other versions of us in other worlds going through the same thing? I knew that some of them got the shivers too, so chances are in one of the other worlds another me is also sitting here right now trying to work out what is going on. And the fact we both felt it at the same time, was that coincidence, or was there a chance that there was a world where we were both killed at the same time? Does that somehow make the shiver stronger? Would it explain the emotional pull that came with it? At that point my phone rang, it was her. I’m sorry, she started, I interrupted her and made it clear there was nothing to apologise for, reassured her that I felt the same thing and had pretty much the same reaction. We spoke for a while, with us both feeling vulnerable and alone I invited her to spend the evening at mine, she was a short cab journey away, so agreed she would be round it about half an hour. After we hung up I poured another glass of wine and decided to use the half hour to have a quick shower, hoping it might make me feel a little more human.\n\nHalf an hour passed and she didn’t show, it reached an hour and still no show, or response to my calls, my worry turned to fear, I couldn’t call the police as they wouldn’t believe me, or care, I told myself I didn’t know anything about her, she could have got distracted, met up with a friend or family nearby, or just changed her mind about coming to visit someone she had only met once, she owed me nothing. After a few hours I finished the bottle, gave up and went to bed to attempt some sleep.\n\nSomething woke me during the night. At first I thought it must have been a shiver, that’s when it dawned on me,I hadn’t had one since the coffee shop earlier, I had got used to them being every hour or so, but this has been pretty much a full day, at least 18 hours, and I had felt nothing. Why had it stopped?\nI suddenly felt sick as it crossed my mind, was I the only one left?\nRushing to the bathroom I turned on the taps, feeling the cold water against my face made the sick feeling go away slightly, I retched a couple of times, but nothing came up. Making my way back to bed I checked my phone, there was a missed call and a voicemail, that much have been what woke me up. The call was from an unknown number, a local landline, I dialed my voicemail and put it on speakerphone while I got back into bed.\nThe instant the message started I froze, it started with just heavy breathing, then she spoke, she sounded even more scared than she had earlier.\nIt’s too late for me she found me, she started. Run, get as far away as you can, change your face, they’re coming for you. Then she screamed and the lady on the voicemail started asking if I wanted to delete the message.\nI hung up and started shaking uncontrollably, I had no idea what she meant, but it scared me to death. That was when I heard the door behind me open, I managed to turn my head, but was paralysed from the neck down. All I could think was how strange it was too look at myself not in a mirror as they raised their hands and I struggled to breathe.\n", "A crash, a scream. Chills ran up my back. The psychitrist looked at me funny. \"Mr Jones, are you quite alright?\" he asked, tilting his head slightly as he examined me. \nI had told them time and time again, it wasn't schitzophrenia, it was real! But they never believed me. I took a deep breath and shook off the forboding feeling my 'episodes' generally brought on. \n\"Yes, I'm fine\" I replied, fighting the urge to look over my shouldar. \"I'm just tired\" I said, forcing a smile that felt as authentic as a fast food cheeseburger.\nDr Reynheart nodded slowly and wrote down on his clipboard. \"Why don't you tell me about your week? Hmm? Get your mind off things?\" \n\nI barely had time to open my mouth when I saw a crowbar flying at my face, I ducked of course. Of course I fucking ducked, there was no way I was going to hide that one. \"Not too bad, I've really being enjoying the art classes\" I replied, trying to relax even though my back was tensing up. Those damn chills again. \n\nThe good doctor tutted and made more notes. \"I don't know why you don't let us medicate you, it will help with your episodes\" he told me, his voice dry and hiding just a hint of a hungarian accent. \"You'll feel better, believe me\". \n\nIt was while I was planning what to say next that the sound of a train horn rang through my ears and I jumped out of my chair, landing in the corner of the room. Millions of alternate dimensions, hundreds of thousands of which I didn't even live to age 30 and several hundred an hour where I was dying at that exact moment. I didn't know if I was insane or cursed, but by god would I have given anything at that moment to not have to find out. \n\nThe doctor looked at me and tutted, setting his clipboard down. \"Nurse! Bring a sedative, the patient is experiancing severe distress\" he shouted, while I watched a fire surround me. If this was hell, I was there... ", "\"Two-fifty\"\n\nThe cash register chimes merrily. My hand brushes hers as I hand over the money. My chest two-steps to the left when her hazels meet my deep browns. If only fairy tales came true.\n\nWarm sunlight fills the shop. Gems and rainbows lance the windows. Cast from an armada of puddles on the asphalt. Thunderheads have passed this way. Another hour at breakneck speed and nature will hold a lecture on mid-western weather patterns.\n\n\"Have a nice day...\"\n\nTurning, I give her my best Humphrey Bogart smile, right hand rising to wave my goodbye. But her hazels have gone all grey. I'm no longer the apple of her eye. Something's larger maw swallows my silhouette on the floor. Cool air kisses my arm where Sol was once the lover. Skin prickles. Behind me...\n\nThe room explodes.\n\nIt rushes past and Death rustles my hair. My old friend reminding me our tee-time approaches, hour TBA. Maroon spills on linoleum. Smells of copper and gasoline complement hot dogs and french fries. A Volvo plaque bigger than my palm hangs smugly over the counter where my shadow once stood. \n\nHere though, the ground is pristine. Gems and rainbows dance now from shards hanging from the window panes. Birds chatter amongst each other about nothing in particular. Sirens announce a terrible thing has happened. Ice runs up my spine and into my chest, squeezing just enough to remind me I survived. \n\nBut that's not entirely true.\n\n\"Get excited folks! We'll announce the winner at the five!\" Seems the DJ survived the last big hit's finale too. No jackpot tonight though. Not without my say. \n\nThe bell jangles. Sounding my leave of this tomb. I pass Me on newly cracked storefront glass. One more down, which of us gets to go?\n \n ", "Nine thousand six hundred and forty-two. That is the number of times I have died. Oh, not here in my universe of course. It's other Arnolds that have died. My name is Arnold by the way. It's crazy to think of how many parallel universes there are and how many times \"I\" have died, but it all makes sense if you really think about it for just a second.\n\n I haven't per say witnessed any of these deaths of my other selves, but I have experienced them. You may be wondering, how do I experience these deaths? Well, it's no big secret because you experience them too! \n\nBefore I go into too much detail, you should know that it will sound a little crazy, at first. It's when you get the chills. You know that feeling that runs up your spine and makes you spasm a little? That's it, that is you number... 1 or 1,000,00 dying.\n\n I always recorded down the chills I've gotten since I can remember and then one night some odd years ago I had a dream; in the dream the I saw me, a thousand mes dying in so many odd ways, and the days I had experienced too (without the dying bit). I knew then that my records were for a reason, to remember all my deaths. \n\nHow is this relevant to you in any way? Well, I've developed a rather innovative and fun little gadget. The chill counter? It's like one of those bracelets that keep track of your heart beat and number of steps you've taken, but this one instead counts and tracks your multiverse deaths. It also gives you a small alert after each chill so you can have a moment of silence for yourself or celebrate the fact that you've outlived another one of yourselfs. \n\nSo, how about it? For only 19.99 USD this marvelous bracelet can let you know of the impending doom you yourself aren't facing just quite yet? ", "132:06:39:42\nIt was the time of the Great Countdown. As I walk down the streets I could see the universal projection in the sky, the numbers getting smaller and smaller, from the remaining days down to the last second. The digits seizes me in a crushing hold and instantly, my steps become fueled with panic. I recite a prayer in my head, stuffing my shaking hands into my pockets. \nPlease please, just- No-! \nThere it was. A running sensation from the back of my neck down to the base of my spine. It was like a trickle of water, or a tiny electrical spark spreading throughout my body. I even felt it at the tips of my fingers and when I did, a strangled cry erupted from my lips. \nThis was why I hated going outside. But I did not have a choice, a man has got to feed himself. I pulled the hoodie over my head, biting hard on my molars as I pushed through the glass door, keeping a low gaze on the near-empty shelves of groceries. \nIt was hard times and the memories of the last ten years remained fuzzy in my mind. But I remembered the first time they announced it, that the Earth was going to die. And as though that dire piece of news was not enough, they bombed us with another fact that pandemic case of experiencing the chills was in reality not a symptom of a 'harmless' bacterial infection; it was a sickening signal, a heart-wrenching call, that one has died in an alternate universe. \nThe scrambling of scientists and researchers happened. With their brains bulging with desperation, daily functions strained with exhaustion, they worked relentlessly on a new theory - our last hope. If it worked, humanity could escape this dying planet and restart on a blank slate. \nWe could go to another Earth in an alternate universe.\nI could restart in an alternate universe. \nBut my chance were limited - I can only go to an alternate universe where 'I' was still alive. \n\n", "\"I should probably stop going outside until winter is over,\" I thought to myself. \n\nBut that's when it struck me. If I get the chills and an alternate universe-me dies, that probably means that one of the alternate universe-me's will get the chills whenever I die. In order to stay alive, I must get the chills as often as possible to kill off as many of my alternates as I can before one of them gets my \"chill.\" \n\nIt's winter. Perfect. Shorts and a t-shirt it is. I will walk around town, stopping in stores to warm up so that I get more chills whenever I come back outside. You know what else winter means? Flu season and various other illnesses. I will as I'm walking around town and in and out of stores, I will look for people coughing and sneezing and immediately go up to them and shake their hand and introduce myself. Boom. Sickness chills. \n\nI guess I should snag some scary movies while I'm out. That will kill a few more of those motherfuckers before I go to bed. \n\nYesterday went well. I probably killed at least 200 alternates. Time to go back out today. Oh, I should mention that I had a nightmare last night and woke up with the chills. Must have been all of the horror flicks last night. A good way to start the day none the less. Also, I have a bit of a scratchy throat and runny nose. Fuck yeah - give me the flu. Time to grab a nice pair of shorts and clean shirt and time to hit the town again. \n\nIt snowed last night. That's sweet. I started to get kinda used to the cold yesterday, so once that happens, I'll just relax in the nice fluffy snow. There's no way I'll get used to that. \n\nThe flu symptoms are really kicking in. My nose won't stop running but the cough... The cough is bad. Oh well, the chills are worth it. The chills are keeping me alive. \n\nI'm getting used to the cold. Snow angels anyone? (oh, the irony) \n\nIt's getting late and I'm feeling weak. I guess it's time to get home and let the flu chills pick off my alternates one by one. Maybe I'll have another nightmare and work double duty while sleeping. \n\nI woke up this morning and can barely move. The cough... I can barely catch my breath it's so bad. I need to get out in the cold, but I can hardly move. Maybe I'll just watch some more scary movies and let the flu chills do the dirty work.\n\nSeriously, this cough. I've been coughing up blood and mucus for the past 3 hours. This isn't good, but I'll be alright. As long as I have the chills, I'll be alright. \n\nMore blood. More mucus. Can't breathe. This is bad. Wait, why have the chills stopped? I'm sick as a dog. Man, I'm warm. I'm really, really warm... ", "I always felt that choking to death on your dinner would be the most pathetic way to go. \n\nI never thought it would be me. ", "Embrace the soil to flake away in the billowing air;\n\nflakes tickle against this reddened skin.\n\nCountless hills with a stalk on each spread out among this flesh.\n\nNow to become upper from gruesome sight.\n\nA swing halted, such strength to bring dazzling sparks spitting about.\n\nSwing of one's own, driven deep to bring thick red spitting out.\n\nThe brute slams down to embrace the soil.\n\nMy flakes left bundled, to billow another time.", "It's tough work, being a Death Corrections Officer. You see some really messed up shit down there, but the worst thing is, there's not a single person in the DCO who will give you an ounce of sympathy. They've all seen things just as bad as you have, and they're struggling through just fine, so why should you need any help?\n\nI suppose I should explain just what the DCO is. There's a plan to the world; a rhyme and a reason to the way things are supposed to go. Except, every so often, things...don't go according to plan. That's when we step in. Find the event in question, shift in an alternate universe to patch the prime one, and boom, the world continues on its merry way. Easy.\n\nBut not fun. See, you've gotta look at what happened to see how to stop it. That means looking at death, five or ten times a day, every day. Something like that changes a man. You normals get away with just a little shiver up your spine, a faint memory of the former universe, but we have to watch you die, sometimes over and over again, five, six times.\n\nAnd then there's you assholes. Of all the fuckin' hobbies you had to take up...do you know how much it sucks to have to rescue the same dude a couple thousand times in the same fuckin' day? Don't even ask me how the hell youtube videos can cause all the accidents they do, I've got no fuckin' idea. Just know that I hate you, I hate everything about you, and I hope you die.\n\nOh wait. You already did. Again, and again, and again, and again, and...\n\nShit, I need a drink.\n\nGod this job sucks.\n\n--------------\n\nIn the real world, John Jones moaned in pleasure as the girl on the screen whispered into the microphone. ASMR videos really were the best.", "I was tapping away, excited. Finally I'd cracked this algorithm, and now my code was flowing freely from my fingers into the editor. The moments of breakthrough really made being a programmer a joy.\n\nSave. Commit. Now I just wait for the compiler, and...\n\nThat's when it happened. A shudder ran through my body, starting in my chest and shaking my whole being.\n\nI looked to my left. My cubicle-mate was just looking at me. \"Woo,\" he said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Just got the chills.\"\n\nI narrowed my eyes at him. Then the guy on the other side of the cloth half-wall of the cubicle stood up, with a pretty similar expression on his face. \"Me, too.\"\n\n\"I felt it, too,\" I admitted. And one by one, like prairie dogs, my coworkers began poking their heads up, pulling out earbuds, agreeing that they had felt the same thing. It had started with me at 1:24 PM, and by 1:35 everybody in my building had felt it. Some had just thought the heat had been turned off, but we all soon realized that this was something different.\n\nWe evacuated the building, assuming that something was in the ventilation system or something. But as we started talking to people in neighboring buildings, we realized that this had happened to everyone. Every single person in the city. Bus passengers, line cooks, taxi drivers, investment bankers, tourists, professional athletes.\n\nSomeone near me showed me their Facebook feed on their phone. People were freaking out on the social network, as they realized that everyone they knew had experienced the same thing at the same time. It wasn't just in our city, either; people on the other side of the planet were posting about the phenomenon. Everybody had gotten the chills around 1:30 PM EST. The earliest time reported was like me, at 1:24. The latest, 1:37.\n\nBy 3:00 it was a worldwide trending topic on Twitter. All of our local news stations had posted something about it. I caught a bus home, because there was no way in any universe that I was going to get anything else done today. The bus was packed, unusual for being so early. Everybody wanted to get home to their families. Everybody had felt the same chills at the same time.\n\nA post in /r/science by a doctor talking about the phenomenon hit the front page, but he didn't have much to say that really answered the problem. I tried to text my wife, but she didn't answer. Not unusual. Probably left her phone upstairs again.\n\nWhen I finally got home, I saw her happily playing with our toddler in the living room. She looked at me, confused. \"You're home early.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, when that thing happened this afternoon, I just wanted to be here with you.\"\n\nHer eyes searched mine. \"What thing?\"\n\n\"Didn't you see? Everybody got the chills at once.\"\n\nShe looked even more confused.\n\n\"Not me.\"", "\"Ahhhhhh\" I exhaled as I felt the last of my long awaited piss trickle out of me. Just as I started to shake, I felt an all to familiar feeling; a cold chill running up the back of my spine and I knew I had lost more than just my urine.", "George Brownlee was a spectacularly unlucky man. Or rather, just a particularly morose one--prone to bouts of depression and fits of suicide. All told, he had probably died hundreds of times in as many worlds. And it seems his many manifestations mostly all had a penchant for killing themselves.\n\nThis George Brownlee--the one we're concerned about--had spent his whole life experiencing the shudders of his many others as they left their own Earths. Petite morts, one after another--but far less fun. With each death, they collapsed into the remaining George Brownlees, weighting each subsequent one down with the Atlassian burden of their collective ennui. \n\nSome had died of other causes, before they had the chance to succumb to their own hand. There had been house fires that killed a few, the stray mugging here and there. The casual accidents and deaths of any sort of civilized world. But most of the George Brownlees had chosen to hang, poison, shoot, suffocate, and--in a surprisingly high number of cases--decapitate themselves. \n\nOur George Brownlee is just one of a handful left--they're not a hardy bunch. He, like all the others, has sandy, limp hair and a downturned mouth that could have looked sensual, if he had ever felt sensual. Unlike the other George Brownlees, this one--ours--has a paper-cut thin scar on his right temple, a memento from an errant basketball that dragged down his glasses and its small, unprotected screw down his face.\n\nTo be fair, our George Brownlee is not at all that important. He will never serve in political office, as three other Georges have. He is not a doctor (18 former Georges), a teacher (27), or even a security guard (like a shocking 43 dead George Brownlees). He will not even be any sort of inspirational figure, not even to his own children, who will forever regard him as a bit tedious.\n\nOur George Brownlee manages a supermarket. And he also manages the dull, throbbing peer pressure of all the other George Brownlees past, who urge him to do what they all have done, and die.\n\nThat would be a shame. Not because our George is anything special--he's clearly not--but because one of the other Georges still left is. There are only a few, but this one, not-our-George, will one day pull himself together, ponder the beauty of solar energy, and eventually wrangle together the biggest energy bill that another version of our Earth has ever seen. \n\nBut not of he succumbs to the Brownlee curse--the inevitable suffocation by all his other versions whispering for him to join them.\n\nSo, you see, it's rather essential for our George Brownlee to make it through his mediocre life. Because if he were to take it, that would be the straw breaking not-our-George's back. \n\nAnd so--maybe our George Brownlee is his own sort of hero, as he lackadaisically stocks shelves with canned pineapple and tells his cashiers canned jokes. He is maybe a hero for taking the drugs that silence the whispers of Georges past, even though they make him so, so tedious.\n\nOur George's chills used to come like ague, but nowadays there are far fewer George Brownlees left to try killing themselves. And for now, not-our-George is about to extend a pale leg outside of his covers, and turn toward the sun, and dream of what it can do. ", "I'm new on reddit. Sort of. And I know this is late, by nearly a month, but this is the post that got me to finally sign up for reddit and well this is is my attempt at a writing prompt. Also very first post on reddit. \n\n Ripples\nShe stood before the still water like a whisper waiting to be heard. Timeless? Forgotten? Alone? It’s all figurative when it happens in your head, but is all this really just happening in my head? I can feel their pain, their loss..wait is it my pain and my loss? She swayed to the melancholy on the balls of her feet, eager to escape the narrative. Her fingers clutched bare arms. What frantic reality gave birth to something this sinister, where the woes of the dead are only piled on another. She shut her eyes and heaved a long sigh. It might end here, it must. The thought of someone else going through this, kills me. Her eyelids flew open. Grave laughter filled the void, she saw the humour in her own thoughts. A stray tear dibbled out her broken enthusiasm; soon the tears marched down her face. Her vision mumbled, grey plates of perforated shadows feel before it; she looked past the curtain and saw the lake. It sat in a bowl as wide as a mistake and as far as a nun’s faith. Oval and still, its waters neither shone nor moved. She waddled into its caress, breaching the surface and floating like lilies on a pond. The water ate her up in quick drawls. Their feelings hit before the cold; lost hopes, happy afternoons, warm funerals, and endless chills. The bottom of the lake hollowed out, feeling wider than before, an impeding sense of being swallowed overwhelmed her. All these moments that once defined somebody will drown with me. Somehow the added baggage only makes me feel lighter. She saw herself glide along, cutting a trail of intersecting wings. The lake spew images of herself drifting towards each other, towards the centre. They comforted her, they called out to her and then disappeared. Soon, the memories reached her throat and in one whole scoop washed over her head. A ripple spread from the point where her head submerged, someone somewhere felt a chill.", "There it is again. \nI shivered. It was the fifth time I had done so that day, which was strange, given that it had been a minimum of 70 degrees for the whole day. I shrugged it off and returned to my book. \n\n~~~~~\n\nMarvin sat in a chair on his back porch, reading a newspaper. He was an unremarkable man, with short brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and round glasses. The orange glow of the sunset reflected off of the lenses of his glasses as he set his newspaper down for a bit to stare out into the distance. \nHe smiled a bit. He had always enjoyed watching the sunset, and was glad that he had done so for once. Marvin closed his eyes, contemplating life. \nHe would never open them again.\n\n~~~~~\n\nI shivered again.\nStarting to get a bit worried, I wondered if I was getting a fever. I set my book down, putting a bookmark in it, and then got up to go to the bathroom.\n\n~~~~~\n\nMarvin \"Marvel\" Reinhardt peeked out of the alley he was holed up in. The flashing red and blue lights revealed the presence of more police officers just around the corner.\n\"Blast! Still there.\" He grumbled under his breath as he ducked back into the alley. He reached into his jacket for a handgun and loaded it.\nThe sound of footsteps outside of the alley became clear to Marvel's ears. Just as the footsteps reached the edge of the alley, he turned toward their source and shot. \nHis aim was true, and the officer who had come to detain him fell to the ground, dead.\nNow that that problem was dealt with, he had to... Oh. Right. He had blown his cover. \nMarvel really hadn't thought this plan through. \nThe sound of several officers rushing toward the alley grew louder.\n\"I can't be caught!\" Marvel grumbled, fumbling in his jacket for a suicide pill. He knew he couldn't take all of the officers. \nHe put the pill in his mouth and burst it open, swallowing the powder inside. \nHe was dead just before the officers turned the corner. \n\n~~~~~\n\nAnother shiver. \nI grabbed my thermometer from the cabinet above the sink, took its plastic casing off, and put it in my mouth. \nAfter just over a minute, I heard a beep from it and removed it from my mouth. \n98.7. Normal temperature. That's odd. \nI guess I'll never know what's been giving me all of these chills today.\nI shrugged. Perhaps a shower would make me feel better. \nI stripped my clothes off and got into the shower, turning the water on. I reached for my shampoo, only to find that it was on the opposite side of the shower. I groaned and took the two steps over to it, picking it up before turning around and stepping back. On my first step, however, I slipped. The back of my skull hit the shower wall and I screamed in pain. I fell further and my neck hit the edge of the tub and snapped. My eyes rolled back in my head, and then...\n\n~~~~~\n\nMarvin Rutherford Reinhardt was woken from his sleep by a cold shiver. ", "I was the first case they encountered. They said it was some sort of \"trans-dimensional quantum entanglement\". I don't really know or care what the fuck that means. I probably should, it's unwilling incarceration, and ethical horrors I can't even begin to describe.\n\nDr. Krosky explained it, in the beginning. He said that that \"shiver\" I felt was some sort of bond breaking, across all the possibilities. He said that there were an infinite number of \"me\" somewhere, and we were all mirrors of each other, paths not taken. Different choices made. Different rolls of the dice. Back in 8th grade, I wasn't late for that midterm and passed US History the first time, instead of re-taking it; I was late but sweet-talked Mrs. Jones; I wasn't late, but I just failed; I was 20 minutes early and Mrs. Jones and I fucked on her desk. A thousand million different possibilities for every moment of every life.\n\nDr. Krosky said it happened to everyone but that _I was special_. I had some sort of link to all of me. \n\nHe was right. I could _feel_ it. Dr. Krosky said, in the beginning, that the shivers were only for versions of me that were similar. Ones that split off recently, like this morning, or a couple days ago. Versions of me that put butter on their toast, versions of me that left the house a few seconds later than me and ended up slamming into an oncoming motorcycle. Those versions of me, when they died, they \"resolved the quantum uncertainty\". And then I'd shiver.\n\nKrosky got a team. He said he said I was the proof of his life's work, and he paid me well. He had proven that there were infinite worlds, and every world was a branch off this one. Our reality, our universe was the _real_ one. Or at least, the first one. He said that I was the conduit. \n\nLooking back, I should've run then. I shivered when he told me, and he arched an eyebrow asking me, \"Did it happen again?\" I nodded, and he glanced at some readout and exclaimed, \"It did! Look, there's the spike!\" He said he'd make the link stronger. \"Imagine what we could do...\" he'd mutter to himself, when he thought I wasn't paying attention.\n\nKrosky figured me out. He used me as a template, something about me was built right. He found others that were linked. Turns out there were millions of us. More than enough, he said, for his project. We really should've refused, but how could we? \n\nKrosky had a team. He had hundreds of people -- scientists, engineers, astrophysicists -- the Krosky Project was what people went to school and graduated to join. He was building The Resonator. It was in the desert, the only place with enough open land, he'd explained to me. By now, the Link, as he'd called it, was the strongest it'd been. I'd gotten used to the shivering. It was happening all the time. I found if I lived my life in the safest way possible, I'd shiver less. \n\nAs part of his project, the transmitters he'd designed were scattered throughout society. They had to be near you to work, but that's easy -- they were incredibly small. They went into phones and watches and eyeglasses and footwear and wallets and purses and chairs and keyboards and any other place or thing that a human interact with. You couldn't go through your day without rubbing up against fifty of them. \n\nThe transmitters helped. They reduced the shivering. Krosky apologized to me one day. He said, \"I'm sorry,\". I asked him for what, and he just motioned to me, encompassing my whole, shivering body. \"For this,\" he'd said. And then he turned away, back to his work. I do recall that was the day that the shivering stopped. I asked him why the next time I saw him. He looked sad, but said that he'd resolved the issue, but refused to talk more. I knew my friend well enough by then to not press the issue. \n\nThe end result was amazing. The Resonator generated _power_. Vast amounts of it. We had more than we knew what to do with. In a few short decades after Krosky's death, we'd built skyscrapers that left the atmosphere. We'd sent machine and man to every corner of the solar system. We tossed out concepts like efficiency. Who needed it? We just turned the Resonator up another notch when it started to wane. \n\nSo few people really understood what it was doing though. Do you remember before the Resonator? Your grandmother might. I do. We had _electricity_. So few knew how it worked, but it was everywhere. We shipped it off across the continent along wires. You've seen the old towers, right? There's some examples in the Smithsonian. There's even a little generator with a hand-crank! You should go, it's a fascinating technology. I wonder if you'll ever have the chance, again.\n\nBut you know how the Resonator works, right? You've learned in school, it's simply resolves those quantum states into something favorable for us. It generates a small bit of power every time, and the transmitters, they store one side, the Resonator the other, and that small little difference, it adds up, and bounces around inside the giant sphere in the Nevada desert. That's what you were taught, right?\n\nHaven't you wondered, all this time, why _I'm_ still here? Have you ever stopped to count? How many days Krosky died? How many days since you last took a shit? Who was the last person you knew that didn't have the Link? When was the last time you Shivered? \n\nYou're catching on now. You're here now. You're inside the Resonator, with the rest of us. We are what's left of the link. We are those fragments, those tiny bits of all the dead versions of ourselves reassembled into ... whatever we are, captured and imprisoned here. Our screams power the world. ", "I'm climbing Mt. Everest.\n\nAt the same time I'm ruining millions of other alternate universes.\n\nI feel like crap.", "Funny how killing yourself gives you the chills.\n\nI thought it was just cause I wasn't used to it yet. Killing yourself is very different from demapping some dude off the street or finishing a square fight, but even it becomes a chore once you've done it once, twice, I can't count anymore times.\n\nBut no. Every time. I've steeled myself, I've tried a thousand different weapons and surrogates and therapies. Every time I die, I know it. And who did it.\n\nOut of the thousands of millions of me, one died in the womb, tangled in the umbilical cord. That world was lucky. Fourteen died to accidents before the age of 12. The rest have died in battle. About one fourth died in fights in their own worlds. One third made it over at least one universe to fight themselves. The remainders now jump world to world, fighting mercilessly. But only one can win.", "Nuclear bombs are very bright.\n\nThis simple fact was burned into everyone's mind as the bombs fell, much like the mushroom cloud was burned into their retinas for one brief moment before a near-instantaneous obliteration.\n\nThe emergency broadcast an hour ago had given people a chance to try and come to terms with the ruination of the human race. The announcer had a breakdown while stuttering through the notice that peace talks had failed. Mutually assured destruction: no-one was walking away from this.\n\nSome ran. Some rioted. Some gave up. Many cried.\n\nIt didn't matter now - no matter what they spent their brief hour of time doing, all were consumed in the blast.\n\n****\n\nMeanwhile, in the next nearest clustering of alternate universes, audiences felt a chill of excitement as the midnight showing of \"Star Wars: The Force Awakens\" began.", "Henry Kissinger once said that power was the ultimate aphrodisiac. It doesn't get me that* excited, but then again, I did run for the House, and the night I was elected was probably the most passionate night of my marriage(and, of course, of my secretary's employment).\n\nI long for that pleasure now, of being chosen. The people's choice, I was. Long as I might, all the gracious constituents in the world couldn't help me now. One of the two most effective organizations that work to take the voting public's agency away from them, the Democratic National Committee, was now breathing down my neck to vote in favor of a bill. It doesn't matter what bill it is, if I don't want to vote for something, I don't need Sabrina Leaonne, Majority Whip, thinking that it's cute to drop by my office and nonchalantly ask me how I intend to finance my reelection campaign.\n\nRotten bitch.\n\nTimes like these call for another kind of power.\n\nOfficially, I'm so anti-gun I'd make Jim Brady uncomfortable, but I always keep a loaded .22 in my desk(yes, just a .22, bite me). Taking it out now, I remember I should probably double check to make sure my office is empty. It's 1:07 AM, of course nobody's here.\n\nSafety off, right up to the temple, against the soft spot of the skull, but angled so that the bullet would hit my brain and not just go through both my eyes. Can you believe there are people so inept they can't even kill themselves?\n\nString theory is a proposed Unified Field Theory for all of our laws of Physics, but the fun part of it involves infinite universes with infinite possibilities. I put my finger on the trigger. Special, discreet assurance has informed me that part of String Theory is true, namely, the fun part I just described, along with a delightful side-effect that follows immediately after I die in another one of these universes.\n\n\"Bang.\"\n\nI vocalize it, feeling a shiver run down my spine. Grinning, I nearly shout again, \"Bang. Boom. Kapow! Game over.\"\n\nEach incantation of onomatopoeia is followed by a convulsion of my body, with the knowledge that my brain, entangled with brains 100% identical to it in separate universes, is one of the few ones surviving this moment. In other worlds, I do pull the trigger, each bang or sputtering I evoke with my lips being a genuine gunshot for some other \"me\", in another universe.\n\nI turn to the window, briefly considering shooting through it and jumping out, waiting for the 14 seconds in between my decision not to go through with it and the drop to the ground, ending the life of another \"me.\"\n\nCoward.\n\nI put the gun back into my desk, reaffirmed of my inherent power. I then exit my office to go home to my faithful wife, contemplating the DNC's oversight of a vital truth I've proved to myself for the umpteenth time.\n\nNobody fucks with me except me.", "\"Dude, I just got the shivers.\" I said to Kyle.\n\n\"What if it's because you died in a parallel universe?\" He replied.\n\n\"Shut the fuck up Kyle, that's stupid.\" I whipped back.\n\n\"Whatever.\" He muttered.\n ", "This is normal. My alarm goes off at 6:30 AM and the last of the alcohol has worn off. Well, not the last. I still have plenty in my system, or what would be plenty for most people. I stagger down to the fridge in my boxers. Tough choice, miller lite or bud lite? Miller lite is the closest choice so I take that. I need at least two beers before I leave for work, or I can't drive. The chills start after six hours without a drink, but I was up until two last night, so I'm fine. The cold shower helps to wake me up, but the most important player is the vyvanse that my roommate is prescribed, and uses to help pay his rent. Two beers, two cups of coffee, and two pisses later I'm ready for another day at work.\n\nAmazon really needs to have their drones start delivering booze. It's a huge pain to drive to different liquor stores all over town. You start to get looks buying a fifth at six and then running back at 8:50 to buy another before the stores close. Maybe I should move to Louisiana. I hear gas stations sell liquor. Forget all that for now, I've got my flask in my suit and I'm ready to get through the day. \n\nBeing an alcoholic isn't easy. It sounds glorifying, the romantic alcoholic, unable to find peace in this world writes his music while drinking alone. That isn't what it's like. Last month I had a panic attack because of a business trip I went on to Pennsylvania. My flight arrived in the evening, after they stop selling alcohol, and I spent the night shaking in a cold sweat. You have to plan everything out, because once sobriety hits, so do the symptoms. \n\nThe headache is bad. The sweat is bad. But the chills are the worst. The worst. Most people get them after watching The Twilight Zone when home alone with the lights out. Ha. They are constant when I am sober. I don't think most people really recognize what the chills are. A brief spasm of paranoia and then a quick light hearted giggle at yourself. They are different when you get them a lot. And I get them a lot.\n\nIt took me awhile to notice it. I wasn't always a heavy drinker. I actually never drank in high school, because it was wrong. I wasn't 21, but I was old enough to die in Iran or Iraq or whatever place the government decides to ship you off to, and that really hit home when my best friend got himself blown up by stepping on an mine in Afghanistan. If the government said he was old enough to die, I was old enough to have a fucking beer. And I had one. And another. And another. \n\nAt first the chills aren't really that bad. The headache and other flu like symptoms that start to effect your body when the alcohol leaves are much worse. The thing you don't notice is the cry. Next time you get the chills, try to listen for it. Or don't. You won't hear it, I have no doubt. I kept getting them nightly for two years before I started to notice. Now I hear it every time. It's not your mom or your sister or your best friend crying. It's you. It's the most gut wrenching saddest cry I have ever heard. The cry of someone who has met the devil himself. The cry I never want to hear again.\n\nI know this alcohol is killing me, but I can't stop. I keep going, living my life on an autopilot designed by someone as suicidal as myself. The booze doesn't give me the warm feeling anymore. It doesn't make me happy anymore. It doesn't make me forget anymore. But it does stop the chills.", "At first it just seemed like I was crazy, like my memory just didn't work right. Being a kid, I'd talk about how my friend John walked down to the duck pond and got kicked by a mule, and my friend Amy would say, \"no, no, John went to the fair and got kicked by a mule.\" I'd know what I was saying was right, because I was there, but then I'd be corrected by six or seven people. \"Johnny was at the fair.\" There were even times when I forgot I had a sibling, or that I didn't have a sibling. Sometimes their face would stay the same but their name would change. And sometimes, a name I'd called them yesterday wasn't their name -- instead, their name was what I knew them by a month or a year ago. My parents took me to the doctor and tried to explain it. Soon they just gave me medicine in the hopes that it was treatable. It wasn't.\n\nIt started affecting my school life when I got older. Mrs. Lafferty would say that Richard Nixon was at the Watergate Hotel, and I'd say that she'd taught us he'd been at the Folsom last semester. The gym teacher, Mr. Holland, would change the rules in baseball where we'd run around a hexagon of bases instead of a diamond. And then, there were the days when things went back to \"normal\", or at least the most common way of things. Mrs. Lafferty would agree that George Washington crossed the Delaware. Mr. Holland wouldn't use the third hoop in basketball. \n\nIt took me a while to realize what was going on, why it always seemed like stories changed, histories changed, the entire world changed without me knowing. When I finally caught on, after looking in the mirror and seeing the odd little changes in my face, in that freckle or this scar, I'd realize what was happening. Eventually, I'd have to try and keep track of what reality I'm in. And eventually I kept it to myself. Even if it was a slightly different set of parents every couple of weeks or months or years, they were still my parents, and I didn't want them to worry.\n\nI could somehow walk through universes, and I never knew which one I'd end up in.\n\nWhen I got older and out into the world, it started to get worse. There's just so much more to remember out in the real world. Computers, technology, phones, doctors, lawyers, news -- I had to relearn and relearn and relearn. That was okay, though, because I could always eventually catch up somehow. No, the worst part of the real world is that it is dangerous, and with the real world came the jitters.\n\nIt always hits me out of nowhere. Sometimes, I'll be at the corner of the street with my foot off the edge of the curb. I'd find myself getting chilly jitters across my skin, and in that second, I'd feel myself walk across the curb, see a car, and get hit. I'd feel it in that minute -- bones crunch, unimaginable pain, road rash down my left side, suffocating blackness -- and then, in that same minute, it would be gone. I would still be standing at the street, and a red Miata with a texting driver would whiz by.\n\nAnd I'd never go back to that universe. I'd figured out a system of keeping track of which universe I was in, and that one -- that particular one, in fact, my Elbow Scar universe where I never went to ballet practice and Mom didn't die of heart disease and the US invaded Kuwait and stayed-- just vanished. I never woke up in that world ever again.\n\nI try to stay indoors a lot now. I don't get the jitters when I'm inside. It's a little safer, a little bit less dangerous. I can't walk by streets anymore. I don't go near construction sites. I almost never eat anything at a restaurant. My computer is my best friend, on the days and in the worlds where I know how to use it. But even inside my apartment, I'll get the jitters. I might plug in a laptop, and suddenly I'm electrocuted, only to find myself sitting against a wall bawling with the cord plugged in. Or I'll take a bath and fall asleep, the jitters making my heart tap-dance three milliseconds before I wake up and drown in the tub. There are so many, many little ways to die, and I experience them all.\n\nSometimes I wonder if there are infinite universes, and if this will keep going. I keep aging, after all, and maybe I'll just die when I finally reach old age. But, if there aren't infinite universes -- if there aren't an unlimited number of me's out there to die -- I'll never know when my jitters are running out. Each one could be the last before I finally draw the unlucky straw and die. Every act is a flip of the coin. Heads I win, tails I lose.\n\nAt this rate, I want to lose that coin toss. ", "20 doctors. 15 specialists. Several religious interventions and witch doctors, in Brazil, Peru and Zimbabwe. I've started to lose track of it all.\n\nNobody can tell my why I won't stop shivering, all throughout the day. There's no pattern- I've counted every day and tried to track one. There's no specific time, and it's not from temperature because it'll happen all year round, rain or shine, snow or sleet. It's not an allergy or a tick...nobody can tell me what it is.\n\nThe worst day, I counted 978 shivers. The best was 743. Nothing stops it, not sleep, alcohol, drugs or medicine. I've tried moving around to different places, but nothing works.\n\nI can't have a personal life when I'm shivering all day. I try to see a movie, or go out on a date, or maybe eat at a nice restaurant and no matter what, without fail, I'm interrupted. The joy is tarnished and I'm reminded of my misery.\n\nGod, I'm so tired of the shivers. They won't stop, and it's driving me insane. I hate the feeling, that chill crawling down my spine like a spider. I hate the fact that nobody can tell me why the fuck it won't stop happening.\n\nPlease, I just want an escape. A way out of this looping hell, where I can't even enjoy a sandwich most days.\n\nThere is an escape. How could I have missed it? It's so obvious, and it's foolproof. Yes, I'll be free from it. Free at last.\n\nI put a gun to my head, looking out into a sunset caressing the ocean's horizon with strokes of magenta and pink. The rippling reflection of it on the water was so close I could almost touch it. A most beautiful last sight was before me, so magnificent that it made me doubt my decision. \n\nI shivered again, my spine screaming madly; could I not even have but one moment of peace to admire beauty? My finger hugged the trigger and I fell into the sea, a splash of red and blue dancing around me in the sunset's hue.\n\nAnother shiver ran through my body. God, why can't I stop shivering?\n\nI should see a doctor." ]	[ 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 13, 27, 65, 87, 159, 574 ]	[ "1454149150", "1454152790", "1454155037", "1454159674", "1454161614", "1454166617", "1454166661", "1454167317", "1454167991", "1454168455", "1454127778", "1454128053", "1454134700", "1454136913", "1454139968", "1454145757", "1454156605", "1454157373", "1454163147", "1454168621", "1454170626", "1454130031", "1454164479", "1454136135", "1454141707", "1454142748", "1454132249", "1454130875", "1454117643", "1454130070", "1454131827" ]
Update! Cawos has kindly offered to turn the top submission into a short film! Please subscribe to /r/cmfilms to follow updates and be the first to hear about it when it releases!	[WP] You suddenly find your doors and windows won't open. You log in to Reddit and find the most upvoted thread with over a million comments and just two hours old "Help, my door is stuck, any tips to get it open?"	2,914	[ "Living in an old house meant there was always the chance that things would break or get stuck. I had never been very lucky with timing, so of course the door wouldn't open the moment I needed to take my puppy out for a walk. \nI was sitting on my bed, my phone in hand. I'd tried opening the door numerous times and even tried removing the handle and hinges with the tools a friend had left when he crashed at my home. After fiddling around with it for awhile, it occurred to me that this might be more than a stuck door. \nSome time went by, and I decided to go on Reddit to quell my boredom until my landlord responded to my text inquiring about the broken door. Without looking at my phone, I walked to the window to have a sneaky cigarette out of the window. Smoking wasn't allowed in my apartment, but I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. My pup followed me and whined a bit, but settled down on the floor. I placed my hand on the twisty-open-window device and turned it. It was stuck. I curled my lips and breathed out my nose. \n\"What the fuck?\" I groaned, and went to my next window. It had a simple latch (old house, mismatched windows) so I clicked it and pressed for the window to open. It didn't budge. \nBy now, a peculiar sense bubbled within me. I can't really explain it, but it was as though I was on the precipice of fear. Instinct told me something was wrong but ignorance told me there wasn't. \nI walked, somewhat dramatically, into my kitchen and pushed up the window. It too felt as if it had been frozen shut. Frozen! Had it snowed? Was it so cold that the windows and door were frozen? Living in Canada, the possibility was tempting but in British Columbia it was unlikely. Despite knowing the unlikelihood of snow, I decided to check the weather. I typed my pin into my phone and Reddit appeared, as I was still on the site before my phone automatically locked. \nIt took me a minute to read the top post, because I was distracted by the second top post that was a video of a piglet getting a belly rub. When I went back to the front page, my eyes read the top post but my brain did not register it. \nHelp, my door is stuck, any tips to get it open? \nI clicked on it and cocked my head. It had over a million up votes, but that didn't seem strange at the time because I'd seen it happen before when a subreddit gets to a million subscribers. I assumed it was that. \nThen I noticed the amount of comments. Submitted two hours ago by PM_ME_YOUR_CARROTS 1993998 comments. \nThat's over a million comments, right? I googled how many zeroes were in a million just be sure. I counted, and recounted and then when I was positive I began to read. I assumed that the top comment, with well-over five-hundred thousand up votes was going to be a joke or an explanation. It was not. \nNothing suggested has worked, for anyone. It appears that we are all stuck and THIS IS NOT A PRANK. Numerous posters have commented about loss of electricity and water. If you have electricity, plug in your laptop and phone NOW and whatever else you might need. There have also been complaints of weird noises escaping from outside: static, warped voices and scuffling. Something is going on, but it seems to only be affecting redditors. \npromtedbycompton 508000 points 13 hours ago* \nI realized quite suddenly that my arms were very cold. My heater had turned off. I immediately rushed to my wall, which was actually two large sliding doors that had been sealed shut. I knocked on it loudly, hoping my neighbour was home. There was alarming silence from his apartment; no dog, no loud hum of fridge and no shuffling around his feet as he did. I divulged that he must be out and ran to the other wall, and banged loudly on it as well. \n\"What's up?\" My neighbour responded after a moment, sounding taken aback that I was knocking on his wall. I took in a deep breath and asked him if his door was opening. \n\"Are you drunk?\" \n\"Seriously, can you just try to open your door and windows?\" I begged him, feeling my chest cringe with how awkward the question was. I heard him walking, and then silence. I waited a moment, and then a minute. \n\"Marvin?\" No answer. \nFrom outside, I heard the strange noise people had been talking about. It sounded as if someone was talking but I was under water. Even though the words were distorted, I could make out that the speech was unnatural. I walked closer to my window, and crouched down as if not to be seen. The voices didn't move any closer, but the closer I got to the window the more potent my fear. \nSuddenly, there came a banging on my door. \nMy heart shot up, and was beating so fast I thought might pass out. I stayed low, and couldn't move. My puppy whimpered and sighed. \n\"Are you there?\" I was filled with a sense of relief, but still overwhelmed with terror. It was my neighbour. I ran to the door. \n\"You scared the crap out of me! Your door opened? Mine won't, neither will any of my windows.\" I spoke quickly and probably sounded wild. \nMarvin paused for a moment, and then, \"I know.\" \nI was filled with anger, I shouted at him. \"Did you do this? Did you glue my windows shut?\" \nI could almost hear him shaking his head. \"No.\" \nConfused, I went put my hands on the door and looked through the peephole. He was looking right back into it, except his eye were demented and bloodshot. \"What the fuck...\" I said quietly, and he moved his head back. \nI screamed once I could see him entirely, and moved back away from the door. I tripped on my dog, landing on my couch. \nThat was not my neighbour outside, at least not entirely. ", "10:20 +cathy> Honey, did you locked the door this morning? I can't open it. Also, I think you have my keys. \n\n10:21 +cathy> Oh well, I'll use the window, I just need to walk the dog. \n\n10:31 +darf> Nop, I didn't. \n\n10:32 +cathy> WHT??? I tried opening every windows and doors in the house, they didn't open... None of them!!!\n\n10:33 +cathy> I'm scared. \n\n10:42 +darf> have you tried removing the stub on the broken window? \n\n10:43 +cathy> No...\n\n10:45 +cathy> It worked! I'm glad we didn't repaired that window after all. I'm going outside. I don't know I will make the dog go over the fence, but I have to walk.\n\n10:46 == cathy has changed nick to walkingCat\n\n10:46 +darf> good walk!\n\n\"He this is strange\" Jack said. \n\"The door is closed... Who the hell closed the openspace door?\"\n\nI had a chill... this was way to similar to what my wife just said to me on IRC. \n\n\"The other door is locked too.\" Jack said. \n\nWhat the hell was happening? I jumped on my feet, and tried the first doors other than the two Jack just tried : the door of the reunion room. Closed. The doors of the boss office : closed. But then again, he his not in there. \n\n\"He, his the door on the corridor open on your say\" asked Jack to the people on the other side of the wall of desk separating the open space into two sections. \n\n\"What do you mean, is it open? Why wouldn't it?\"\n\nI move near Jack to support him... The others are gathering behind too, trying the doors which refuse to open for some reason. \n\n\"The doors on our side are locked. All of them.\" \n\nJennifer stood up and want to the try the only doors on their side. \n\n\"It's locked too... Shit!\"\n\n\"All right, I'll send a message to EHS.\"\n\n\"They better hurry, I have a meeting in 5 minutes\" said someone behind me.\n\nEveryone went back to their desk to wait for the help. I didn't talk about how my wife had the exact same problem. The last thing we needed here was a panic in a closed open-space. I tried going back to work, but I couldn't. I needed to change my mind. Cathy was still out walking the dog and presumably clearing her mind. I open reddit. \n\nThere it was : a featured thread. Two hours old. \"Locked up door's threads. Don't open any other threads about locked up doors, please!\". I was worried before, but after reading this I was dead scared. What the hell was going on? And more importantly, how long will this go on? I don't want to be trapped at work, with twenty or so people in a room devoid of anything edible except some sugar and single-serve coffee container. This will be hell soon.\n\nAn hour passed. Nobody arrived to help us. Martin and Silvia, who had a meeting earlier, were cursing EHS agents for not showing up. I know why they didn't show up. They were locked too, I could bet. I checked IRC : my wife had come back.\n\n11:49 == walkingCat has change nick to cathy\n\n11:49 +cathy> Shit, this is freaking me out. \n\n11:50 +cathy> I'm not the only one who was locked inside. I have seen other people trying to talk to me behind their windows. \n\n11:50 +cathy> And the master of the golden retriever was locked out. I invited him here until thing get better, he was out since 8 this morning. \n\n11:58 +darf> We are locked inside the open-space. I find out a thread on reddit talking about this. apparently, this is worldwide. I was not brave enough to read the thread though. \n\n11:59 +darf> I'll eventually have to read the damn thing. Maybe someone found a solution.\n\n11:59 +darf> And anyway, it's lunch time. We'll need to find a way out soon or everybody will go crazy here :p\n\nI joked, but I was half persuaded it would eventually come to this. \n\n12:00 +cathy> ... That's not funny. Have you tried calling for help?\n\n12:02 +darf> Well yes, we are kinda waiting for it. But it's been more than an hour now, and we didn't ear from them yet. Still, I don't wanna destroy company's property just yet. I can skip a meal and wait until the evening if it comes to this. As long as I don't drink to much which won't happen since we don't have water fountain in here. \n\n12:03 +cathy> Love, I'm scarred. :(\n\n12:10 +darf> It'll be alright, Love. \n\nThe moment I typed enter, I ear a loop noise : Jack had lost his patience and was slamming his chair into the door. He repeated the operation twice. The doors didn't have a single scratch. \n\n12:12 +darf> Well it seems people here are not as patient as me... Though the doors doesn't care much. \n\n12:15 +cathy> What about the walls?\n\nI look up and look at the paper thin walls... Well, at worst, they will not care anymore than the doors. \n\n\"He Jack!\" I said. \"Why don't you try the wall?\" \n\n\"Why do you think it will work any better?\" \n\n\"They are look more fragile than the doors. In fact, they look even more fragile than the windows.\"\n\n\"Oh well\" he said. \n\nHe launched his chair and then, there is a crack. The chair didn't put down the wall, but their was a big impact were the chair had hit. \n\n\"Oh Yeah! Now we're getting somewhere!\" he said. \n\n12:27 +darf> Love, you're a genius!\n\n12:28 +cathy> :) So, you're free now? \n\n12:29 +darf> Not yet, no... the wall isn't down yet and we need to get out of the building after that. But don't worry, there is always a door left open. At worst, we'll figure out a way to cut the outer wall as well. What worries me most is how the hell I'm going to drive home. I sure wish I was riding a bike.\n\nI went on reddit while Jack was finishing the wall. Sure enough, someone else had figured out that the doors were now indestructible, but not the walls. Their were then much speculation about what had caused this and why the walls were not affected. There were talks about aliens, some conspiracy theory, other crazy stuffs. The only theory I found I couldn't reject out right was that our universe was a simulation and that the last update introduced some crazy bug. Some people were looking for a form to fill a bug report to... god or whatever. Then there were people wondering how to protect themselves and their properties without functioning doors. This part was disturbing on more than one level. The problem was real, but some of the solutions were... not good. I scrolled down, and quickly arrived to older post when people were still freaking the hell out. I closed the thread. The wall was open anyway. It was time to go eat some food.\n\n13:23 +darf> I'm going to lunch. I think I'll take the rest of the day off. Bye Love!\n\n13:25 +cathy> Bye! :) Be careful on your way home!\n\n13:26 +darf> I'll call my father. I'm sure he'll be able to give me a ride. \n\n13:27 == connection lost.", "Is this what people call panic? I guess it is. It's only been a handful of hours since i woke up to the news. Who would have known reddit would make me curious, make me wonder and test my own doors and windows. I felt my breath stop as i looked at my laptop in that particular moment. But it wasn't the first post, it was the comments. Person after person after person admitting their doors and windows would open.\n\nToday was meant to be a lazy day for me. A mini holiday if you like. Not this. I remember how i shifted my head towards my cluttered bedroom door, where boxes where stacked. Never before have i felt nervous about a door opening or in this case possibly not. This had to be a prank? Maybe it was April fools and time flew past me. But no, the date on my laptops screen said 01/02/2016. It couldn't be a foolish prank or could it? My mind wouldn't shut up and the air felt harder to inhale.\n\nMy gaze fixed on the white wooden door. I couldn't take it, i had to know. This twisted prank was going to get exposed! At least thats what my brain told me. Enough was enough, i jumped out of my comfortable seat and approached the door hesitantly. While the sunlight crept in from the window, the bright rays of orangey yellow lighting up behind me. What was this uncomfortable fear? It's just teens mocking about on the internet! Why so serious?!\n\nNothing could break the chills running down my body, no matter how much i tried and tried to silent my mind a portion of me felt uneasy, almost sickly at the idea. It could be true couldn't it? I reached out towards the handle and tried to open the door. It wouldn't budge. This can't be right?! It has to!\n\nTurning around towards the window, quickly rushing over to it and testing it's handles. Nothing! I can't be locked in my own bedroom! \"But why?! I done nothing wrong\". I yelled out as i tried to find the answers.\n\nMy hand went straight into my pocket, grabbing my samsung galaxy phone. Maybe my friends done this? It must of have. The thread on reddit could of been them! If i was uneasy before now this was just panic. Calling all my dear friends one by one only to find their all in the same situations.\n\nWhat about food? Thankfully i had a drawer of snacks but how long will those last? How long will i be stuck in my own bedroom. Everyone else i heard from was locked in their house, but of course unfortunate me got stuck in their own bedroom!", "It’s the middle of summer and my AC unit has been doing a valiant job of keeping the house cool. But as the sun sets I like to give it a break from it’s labor. I also really enjoy the summer evening breeze.\n\nI’ve been working for the last six hours, nearly uninterrupted since lunch. It was time for a break.\n\nI saved my edits and got up from my desk, taking a moment to fully enjoy a nice full stretch.\n\nI started to make my way towards the kitchen to grab something refreshing to drink. I knew exactly what was in the fridge and was looking forward to cracking it open.\n\nI pass by the thermostat in the hallway and flip off the AC.\n\nHaving procured my beverage I headed to the window above the eat-in-kitchen table. It’s a small four chair arrangement where I consume most of my meals. The window is directly above it which lets in some great natural light in them morning.\n\nI lean over the table, balancing on one foot to give the window a little tug that will slide it up from the bottom, I feel some resistance and nearly spill my drink as I quickly put my hand on the table to brace myself.\n\nThat’s strange. Having done this very motion nearly every day since the beginning summer, this was quite unusual. I quickly looked up to make sure the window hadn’t been locked somehow.\n\nBut the latch was free. I twisted it just to be sure, but it was clear of it’s latch. I put my drink down and tried again with a both hands and a bit more force.\n\nNothing. It wouldn’t budge.\n\nWell, I guess I’ll have to get that taken care of tomorrow. I’ll go get some WD40 or whatever you put on stubborn windows to reduce the friction. But for tonight I’ll just count my loses and open another window.\n\nI move out to the living room and start towards the window above the couch. It’s a large window overlooking the front yard. It split into three panes, the center one immovable, but the other two have those little levers that when turned will move open the window outward.\n\nFeeling a bit more cautions due to my experiences with the kitchen window I double check to make sure that the locks are firmly disengaged, then I try to turn the little lever.\n\nNothing! What is going on here? It seems to be stuck. I try a bit harder, and then a bit harder, starting to worry I might break the lever.\n\nI quickly move to the other side of the couch and try the the opposite window, but it’s the same thing! In a moment of bad judgment I take my growing frustration out on the lever by giving a hard turn breaking the damn thing right off.\n\nIs someone playing a prank on me? With the lever still in my hand I briskly walk to the front door and flip the deadbolt open, I reach for the handle, give it a twist and pull.\n\nBut nothing. My hand slipped from the doorknob and I fell away from the unmoving door.\n\nWhat the hell is going on here? Some strange atmospheric pressure system? This doesn’t make any sense.\n\nI pull out my iPhone to see if there is any news of anything, and find out if there are any remedies for window and doors being oddly stuck.\n\nAs the phone unlocks I see the familiar AlienBlue Reddit app refresh itself. I’m in the habit of leaving the last used app up on my phone.\n\nBefore I hitting the home button I notice the top story with over a million comments and counting. It reads:\n\n“Help, my door is stuck, any tips to get it open?”\n\nWow, that’s quite apropos, I think to myself tapping into it, hoping to find some quick tips on getting out of my house turned prison.\n\nUnfortunately a quick scan through the comments starts to give me a sinking feeling. It’s just comment after comment of people in the same predicament. A lot of them had already tried all the standard solutions, including trying to break through windows. All to no avail.\n\nMy hear starts to race.", "I wake up, it's dark, i look at my clock on my desk, 9:07, it has to be wrong i think to myself being half asleep. I grab my phone next to my bed, squint my eyes and press the button, 9:07. Confused by the lack of daylight i drag myself out of bed to look out the window, is there a storm? Outside it's dark, everything is dark. I start getting a bit nervous, what's happening? I keep staring out the window, as if i was not completely awake yet and soon the lights will appear. Waiting for several minutes before i get out of my bedroom and into the living room. Three large windows stretch from one side of the wall to the other, at the end the terrace door. I stand at a distance looking at the windows, I'm suddenly afraid to look out. With silent steps and pounding chest i slowly go closer. I hint a light in the distance, blue and green, it's moving, dancing in the far away darkness. I move slowly towards the windows, press my hands against the glass, mesmerised. Hesitating at first, i want to get closer, i reach for the door, unlock and press down the handle, it won't open, i try pushing it open, nothing seems to budge it. What now? I turn on my computer, i'm starting to panic and it seems my phone has no service, i can't call. I need to talk to someone! Opening the browser i automatically click on the reddit bookmark as i always do. First post i see, \"It's dark and i can't leave my house, help!\" ....to be continued", "This is my first prompt... I hope you all enjoy it.\n\n------\n\nBrandon rapped his finger on the door, his face still pressed against the wood. “Mom! Please. Come here! The door is stuck!” He listened for the sounds of movement he heard earlier but his ears were only met with silence. His fist hit the door a few swift pounds in a row.\n\n“MOM! Come on, man! Mom!” He heard the murmuring again. The sound of a familiar, female voice. It was gentle and made him smile for a moment. He didn’t know why he smiled but he shook it off and knocked again. \n\n“MOM! I CAN HEAR YOU! OPEN. THE. DOOR!” He almost held his breath to make it quieter while he listened for any signs of life.\n\nHis initial panic attack had subsided. For the first half hour or so, he pounded on the door, threw his desk chair at it, and tried sliding S.O.S. notes under the door into the hallway. When that didn’t work, he tried opening his window. Living in a city had its perks. Lots of people walking around outside was one of them. But the thick fog was impermeable and the window was solidly frozen shut just like the bedroom door.\n\nHis pounded once more on the glass. “HEY! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?” His voice bounced off the window. \n\n“What the hell?” He thought out loud and he wandered to his bed. His legs landed on the bed like heavy weights free falling. His laptop glowed as he opened it. \n\n“Dubya Dubya Dubya… reddit dot com.” His pinky finger hit the enter key as he sighed. “Might as well do something fun today since I ain’t gonna be going to school. I guess I can be glad for that!” He explained to empty room.\n\n“HELP! My door is stuck. Any tips to get it open?” The headline post read. \n\n“Weird! Mine too! DAY-UM! A million comments in…” he clicked on the link. “TWO HOURS! Holy hell! What is this? The new safe?” He chuckled at his own joke and then started reading.\n\n“This morning I got up but my door and window are stuck shut. I can’t get out of my room. I tried literally everything! Any tips? Edited to add: Thanks for all the help guys but it’s still not opening.” \n\nAs he scrolled he read the various types of comments to get a feel for the thread and where it was going.\n\n“Did you try throwing a brick through it?” One commenter asked.\n\n“Who the hell keeps bricks in their room?” Came a snarky reply. \n\n“I’m going to now! Haha! Seriously though, why don’t you just yell for your flat mate?” Other commenters gave suggestions and for each one, OP replied that it didn’t work.\n\nBrandon read for several comments before one suggested starting a new subreddit, r/doorsandwindowsstuckshut followed by an edit that the subreddit was live. \n\nBrandon giggled at the coincidence of the biggest thread, and now hottest new subreddit, mimicking his current predicament. He went back to the main page and scrolled down. Every thread seemed to be about doors, windows, WD-40, and things being stuck. \n\n“This is getting weird.” Brandon was about to click the link on the new subreddit when he heard the voice outside his door again. He tossed his laptop to the side and ran to the door. The door knob still wouldn’t turn. The voice was a little louder. He couldn’t hear most of what the person was saying but he was now certain that it was his mom. \n\n“MOM! MOM!” The panic and fear started to build. “MOM! My door is stuck! MOM! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” He tried to calm his breathing as he pressed his ear against the cold door again. \n\nMurmuring. Beeps. More Murmuring. “…Please. Just try … a little longer … I can’t …” the words intermingled with the soft murmuring of her voice. It quivered at times, almost sounding like she could burst into tears at any second.\n\n“Mom?” Brandon listened as the voices stopped again. He heard a thump of a door and then muffled crying. \n\n“Mom! Can you hear me? My door is stuck!” His swollen knuckles tapped the door lightly.\n\n “Mom?” He almost whispered as the muffled cries faded. Silence. \n\nBrandon waited for a minute trying to hear the voices or any noise. When none came through, his shoulders slumped and he sauntered back to his bed.\n\nBack on Reddit, he went to the new subreddit, r/doorsandwindowsstuckshut and read the sidebar. \n\n> “This is for all the people who are stuck in their rooms with the doors and windows stuck shut. We are here to figure out this mystery together. No hateful comments. No this is not a joke.”\n\n“ALL* the people?” Brandon lipped the words as he read them then finally noticed the wall of posts.\n\n“I am stuck in my room.”\n\n“My window and door are stuck shut. I have a presentation today! I don’t need this shit!”\n\n“HELP! I am stuck in my room. My door and window won’t open.”\n\n“[Theory] We are all in the matrix and someone glitched the doors and windows.”\n\n“I wonder if this is purgatory. Anyone else and Atheist?”\n\n“I can’t get my door to open! Chainsaw anyone? Live streaming. NSFW, maybe.”\n\nBrandon gasped as he scrolled through post after post.\n\n“How many people are stuck?” Brandon fought back tears as he read the comments and posts. Refreshing brought in a barrage of new posts; some with ideas of how to get out, some with theories, some jokes to lighten the mood, and more posts of “Stuck in my room” types.\n\nHe was just about to submit his own post when he heard his mother’s voice like she was standing in the room. “What did they say?”\n\nThe question ripped his attention away from his new-found mystery. “What? Hello?”\n\nHe could hear talking on the other side of the door. This time, he could just make out the words his brother was saying. “No. There is no brain activity.”\n\n“Oh God!” His mother’s voice quivered and gave way to a torrent of tears.\n\n“There’s really nothing…” Nelson choked back on his tears, “… they, uh … there’s nothing they can do.”\n\nBrandon could hear his brother crying now. The sobbing permeated the door. He wasn’t sure what was going on but someone was in bad shape. This wasn’t making sense.\n\n“I wonder if this is purgatory…” The reddit post flashed in front of his face for a split second. \n\n“Oh shit. Oh no! oh GOD! MOM!” Brandon started pounded on the door, throwing his body at it, trying with every bit of his being to force it open. “MOM! I’M IN HERE! MOM!”\n\nHe could hear his mother’s voice again. It was shaking and at times she would gasp deeply between words. She had been crying for a while. Brandon leaned toward the door to listen again closing his eyes to fight back the tears.\n\n“I don’t want him to suffer anymore. I’m so sorry.” Brandon felt a hand on his face gently brushing his cheek. “Oh Brandon…” Her voice cracked again “I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”\n\nBrandon tried to open his eyes but they wouldn’t move. He could hear the beeps again as his brother spoke calmly, “Yea, Dad? Hey. Uhm … you might want to try to get a quicker flight. I don’t think Brandon is going to make it much longer. Uh-huh. Yea.” \n\nNelson’s breath was heavy as he sighed. “We decided to take Brandon off life support.” His voice wavered and trailed into sobbing which echoed in Brandon’s ears as he opened his eyes.\n\nHe was in his room behind the locked door. \n\n“NO! MOM!” Panic set in fully as he threw himself against the door. “I’M STILL ALIVE!”\n\nHe bounded back to the computer and typed, “We’re all dead! I just heard my mom and brother say they are taking me off life support! I don’t want to die!” \n\nHe hit submit, sat back, and started shaking. The orange message popped up on his Reddit. He clicked the envelope to read if anyone had seen his post. \n\n“This is an auto moderator. Your post has been removed.”\n\n", "Late to the party, but here goes.\n\nJeff winced as the phone rang loudly in his ear. The room was quiet aside from the rapid click of a computer mouse.\n\n\"Hey Mike, are you seeing this?\" He said into the receiver. \n\nThe person on the other side exhaled loudly. “Yeah Jeff. Y’know at first I thought this was the work of a Reddit troll. But my doors and windows definitely aren’t opening… “ \n\nJeff whistled. “So it’s true, huh. Good thing I planned to spend the day inside anyhow. They’re blaming it on oversized Moths?”\n\n“Yeah it’s ridiculous and that the Government didn’t know of this in infestation in advance... Trumps a bloody joker” Mike said.\n\n“That’s weird…” \n\nJeff’s eyebrows shot up. “Mike…?”\n\n“No it’s nothing. My pesticides and chemicals are gone, that’s all.”\n\n“You leave them at work?” Jeff replied. \n \n“Nah never do, Molly must have moved em. I wanted to make a concoction someone had posted about. Apparently it’s strong enough to kill a swarm of the buggers.” Mike replied.\n\nJeff scrolled down the page. \n\n“Blimey! That’s a lot of chemicals” He exclaimed.\n\n“Yeah, big problems mean extreme measures though. Gigantic moths, it’s like something out of a horror movie. I got my Baretta with me just inca-“\n\nThe phone thudded.\n\n“Mike!?... Mike!” Jeff shouted.\n\nA single gunshot echoed through the phone speaker and the sound of a crash followed. The call ended. \n\nHe quickly tried to redial mike. But his fingers couldn’t come off from the back of the phone.\n\n“Argh. Not again…” Jeff muttered. \n\nHe pulled off the elastic glove and threw it into a bin next to him. It bounced off a pile of identical gloves.\n\nJeff turned and checked the readings of a dozen moth larvae scattered around his room. In an hour they would hatch and join the rest of his army. \n\nHe walked to the room window and looked out. The streets were empty, but the skies were filled with human sized moths.\n\n“I hadn’t intended for you to go so soon Mike…” He whispered.\n\n“But I’ll do what is necessary…” \n", "When I woke up this morning, I was expecting another day of monotony. Another day of going to work, putting on my retail smile, and walking around with the rest of the drones. This was before I learned that today, I wouldn't even be making it past the door.\n\nReady to head off for work this morning, I tried to open up the door, an action that is so automatic for me that I rarely pay attention to what I'm doing. Today, however, the handle wouldn't budge. Looking at the lock, I figured that I had just simply forgotten to unlock it in my tired haze, but then I realized that the door was in the \"unlocked\" position to begin with. I gave the handle another pull, but this time the handle completely fell off, like an old, dead branch, desperately hanging onto a tree.\n\nOverlooking the obvious \"metal doesn't do that\" for a second, I decided to try to pop open a window. The latch chipped off in my hand with very little force, just like the doorknob. I'm either in some kind of fake house that looks exactly like my own, or I'm still asleep. My friends are too lazy to come up with a prank this intricate, and I really doubt I'm in a reality TV show; for one thing, I didn't sign anything, and for another, I couldn't think of any point to this other than to annoy me.\n\nThis situation seemed like one of those weird things that Redditors love. I figured that I as well post this before I break a window - not like I'm in any hurry anyway. Before I could determine a subreddit to post it to, I figured I'd check out /r/all to see what the crazies are up to. It turns out that the top post is someone telling everyone that they're stuck in their house, with wooden knobs and window latches that broke off on touch. Ha, small world. I'm sure it's just a troll, like the ones who post that \"my house is on fire\" and they're still typing on their keyboard instead of trying to get out. Glancing down at the username, though, my heart skipped a beat. The username was my own, posted 4 hours earlier.", "Day 5: Since I've got nothing else to do at this point I've decided to start a journal to record The Event, as I've come to call it. My residence lies in a corner on the fourth floor of a small apartment building. The doors and windows have all become seemingly impenetrable. Water still works, but power went out this morning, and the internet went down two days ago, severing my access the reddit thread that had been my only connection to outside world. Phones only left busy signals, emails got no response nor did I receive any, all other websites had remained unchanged since the event began, seemingly frozen at the start of The Event. The single reddit thread was the only proof the world outside my apartment was still there, however at this point it was a blessing more than anything that I lost access, not a single answer had been found on how to escape. \n\nAccounts of failure and cries of help were all that populated the thread by that point. Fists, axes, guns, hell some even had been able to attempt acid, all reported to have zero effect on our newly found prisons. Fire had been the worst to read. So many last cries of poor souls panicking as fire destroyed all except its intended target, countless typing out their despair and confusion to complete strangers in the last moments before the fire took them. Witnessing the last thoughts of so many scroll by on my screen should have horrified me, should have brought fear, should have inspired any type of reaction other than what I felt:nothing. The world outside was treated simply as a fantasy, the cries and horrors I read brought no more emotion than a movie might. Perhaps my only way to cope was to detach my mind as my much body was from the outside world.\n\nMy sliding glass doors are my only portal to the outside, as both my windows look at nothing but the brick wall of the adjacent apartment building. The view of the world outside disturbs me more than anything else. It seems to have been poorly made to look normal. I see the building across the street, however all the windows are pitch black. I see the trees along the sidewalk blow in the wind, yet the motion seems to repeat over and over. I have seen nothing living, no animals, no people, not even an insect fly by. The weather is always the same, a bright day with a spattering of clouds. The part that has stunned is the progression of everything has stopped, the sun no longer moves, leaves no longer fall, clouds no longer dissipate but rather seem to follow circular patterns. Time seems to have stopped outside my walls. \n\nDay 6: I have made an exciting discovery, I heard a faint tapping on the wall connecting my apartment to my neighbor Conner's unit. I screamed as loud as I could that I could hear him and got a muffled response that sounded like him screaming as well, but it was faint and unintelligible. However, his tapping resumed with more vigor and I soon responded. We both just kept pounding the wall I while, relishing in the slightest form of communication with another human. After we both seemingly tired ourselves and came down for our rapture, he seemingly started tapping with intent and in a pattern. 8 taps, then a pause, followed by 9 taps. He repeated this over and over and I sat there raking my brain as to why. I didn't know morse but was pretty sure that it wasn't that. It was obviously an attempt at communication, but how. \n\nFinally I came to the realization what he was saying. Hi. The number of taps was correlating to position in the alphabet, 8 for H and 9 for I. I quickly responded with \"Hello\", quickly regretting my decision to choose such a long word. However tedious it was, despite us saying nothing but short celebrations, this conversation was the most cherished moment of my life. I plan to speak often to Connor, as I have little else to do, and he seems to be on board as well, since I now have this escape I'm not sure I will keep my writing up. \n\nEND- I have more of this story planned and might come back later to finish, but I don't have the time right now, first time writing here, or pretty much anywhere, so any feedback would be appreciated.", "It started with a sudden blast of that introduction to Pink Floyd's 'Money'. I always felt that was the classiest ringtone I could muster but being jolted awake to the sound of cash registers and coins may not necessarily be the most comfortable feeling ever. I groggily brought the phone closer to my face, it's 6:32am, Hayden is calling. The hell would he want from me at this hour?\n\n\"Dude, so sorry for calling you now at this hour but something is happening and I can't think of anyone else who would be awake at this hour, I need your help man!\"\n\n\"Huh? Whaa..?\"\n\n\"I can't open my doors or my windows, everything outside is just pitch black, at first I thought my clock was broken or something but all the clocks are fine, it's 6+ and the sun is not up yet and I can't open the doors or windows, the electricity keeps going on and off...something weird is going on man, can you look outside?\"\n\nI got up from my bed, still trying to figure out if I was awake or somehow managed to get into another layer of my dream. Didn't help that I watched Inception for the 6th time just 2 nights ago. \"Okay, hold on\". I took a deep breath, letting out an unintentional groan as I got out of bed and my first glance towards the window froze me.\n\n\"Dude, I'll call you back.\" I hung up.\n\nI walked towards the window, unhooked it and pushed against the frosted glass only for it to not budge. It felt like someone boarded up the window which would have made sense if not for the fact that I live on the 9th floor of an apartment building. Well, that's strange then.\n\nI walked towards my living room door, looked through the peep hole and all I saw was black. I unhooked it and tried to open it and all it felt like was a wall. \"Well what now?\".\n\nI paused for a bit, I'm sure there's an explanation to this. So I did what every confused person trying to make sense of a situation beyond his comprehension would do; I fired up my desktop and decided to Google it.\n\nThe Internet was working fine, pretty good speeds, so it couldn't be the apocalypse. Chrome opens up and...what do I search for? Oh right, \"why am I unable to open my windows\"?\n\nThe search result come in, I see a million and one results about restarting your computer, troubleshooting your desktop, antivirus software downloads...okay, I'll try this again.\n\n\"Why can't I open my door?\"\n\nFirst search result brings me to a site called Reddit with a topic \"Help, my door is stuck, any tips to get it open?\". I've heard so much about this site but never really used it before but wow, this was posted 2 hours ago and it already has over a million comments.\n\nI should click on this but I really needed to pee and I was hungry. I skipped to the loo and then just grabbed a loaf of bread went back into my room stuffing a slice of bread at a time as a I read the comments, one by one. They all were going through the same thing.\n\n\"My windows were black, no sun at all\" - GHFStrongMan from Australia\n\n\"Dude, my doors wouldn't open too, and I kept hearing this low rumbling sound\" - Ben-Winkle from Hong Kong\n\n\"Funny how you all have the same issue as me, what's going on?\" - ChaiPratpong from Thailand\n\nThis is weird, no this is freaky, no this is creepy as all fuck but what do I do now? I scrolled further and I come across a post by a PeterPong from Malaysia who said he was going to investigate this. I spent the next 20 minutes clicking \"load more comments\" and really, all it did was load my train of thought with explosive devices ready to detonate at the faintest crack on the rail.\n\nI tried looking for a few specific usernames and then tried tracking their posts and I noticed a disturbing pattern. They all first started off by mentioning the locked doors and windows, then they talk about enquiring about the phenomenon and lastly, they talk about this low rumbling sound that seems to get louder and within 45 minutes of their first post; they disappear, no more replies, no word from them.\n\nI was definitely fully awake by now, it's already been 27 minutes and I try to focus, and then I hear it...no, I feel it. A slight rumbling sound coming from a distance, a barely audible low frequency, somewhere between 20-40hz. \n\nI continue scrolling and I see this post from Audi2309 mentioning how the rumbling sound had been going on for 15 minutes and it got louder and louder, he suspects it could be a message of sorts. The guy claims to be an audio engineer but maybe he does make sense. So he says he is going to record a few seconds of the sound and then time warp it to increase the frequency and he will release the results to us.\n\nI waited, we waited, the whole of Reddit waited, never saw him again.\n\n\"Fuck this\", I jumped to my brother's room, I know he has a Zoom H4N recorder somewhere, I found it, went towards the living room, recorded about 15 seconds of the sound, it sure is louder now than it was 5 minutes ago. I then went back to my desktop, opened up Adobe Audition, thanking God I still had that software after using it for school work last time, you know how almost every class project had to come with a video and somehow, I was the only one capable of understanding how post-production worked just because I spent a couple of months trying to become a bedroom electronica musician.\n\nI loaded the .wav file onto the timeline, changed the speed to 300% and let it load. Shit, it was now a 5 second clip. I played it back and I swear I heard the word \"coming to\" very slowly in a strange accented, deep low voice. Fuck, Audio2309 was on to something!\n\nI reinserted the SD card, ran back to the living room and started recording, the sound was much louder, the room was vibrating, whatever it was is definitely nearby. 56...57...58...59...I stopped recording. A 1 minute clip rendered down to 3 times its speed should be able to give me 20 seconds of what the fuck is going on.\n\nInserted the clip into the timeline, changed the speed to 300%, took a deep breath and hit play.\n\n\"We...see...no...need...for...your...\"\n\nSuddenly everything turned black. All I hear is now the sound of my own breathing. Nothingness, I am still alive but there is nothing and I've been here the last 6 minutes. The dead silence is killing me, I swear I could already hear the blood flowing in my veins and all I see is black.", "Suuuuuuuuuper late to the party, but fuck it. Here it goes.\n\n\nIt started like any other day. I woke up to the annoying sound of my alarm clock blaring. After cracking my eyes open I walked through my open bedroom door and stepped into the kitchen to a fresh pot of coffee waiting for me (those timers are nifty huh?). After pouring a hot cup of coffee I walked back through to my bedroom and placed the cup on my desk so I can get dressed. I placed my hands on the closest door and turned the handle...But I couldn't open it. \n\n\"ugh?\" I sighed with an angry coffee drunk snarl. \"Why won't this dam closet open?\". Annoyed I sat down in at my desk, cup in hand and took a big gulp. \"Fuck it, no pants today\". \n\nI then turned on my ancient HP laptop and with a werr it comes to life. I load up my facebook page, but the dam thing won't connect. \"This fucking Cox internet is shit\" I angrily spat out their name. \n\nReddit it is. I clicked on the bookmark and I am whisked away to the front page, \"That's more I like it\". Surprisingly though, there was only one thread. \"What is going on, Reddit is never this quiet\". 1 million comments..Oh never mind. \n\nI click on the only thread, \"Help, my door is stuck, any tips to get it open?\". \"I guess they needed pants too\" I scoff and crack a smile to my bad joke. \n\nTop comment:\nHey guys, I have been banging violently on the front door and it won't open. I tried to turn the handle, hell I even tried to open the windows. I am going to keep trying. \n \nEdit: Guys whatever you do, DO NOT CLOSE ANY DOORS IN YOUR HOUSE OR YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO GET BACK IN. I just managed to lock myself out of the bathroom (really have to pee now) and the dam thing won't open!\n \nEdit 2: Fuck it, I peed down the kitchen sink. It all goes to the same place right?\n\n\"Ha\" I nervously let out. \"Must be dumb to get locked out of the bathroom...\"\n\nI get up from the desk and step through the bedroom doorway and head to the front door. \"No way it could happen to me, right?\". I grab the handle and turn. Nothing. I yank, nothing. I kick the door, \"fuck this\". I go back to my desk in defeat, being careful to leave my bedroom door open.\n\nI go back to the thread and see that people are freaking out, someone even said, \"I can't get a hold of anybody. My phone has no single, and the internet only lets me go to Reddit\". My face twists to the grim realization that maybe. Maybe this could be real.\n\nI go to the thin wall of my apartment and begin to knock. \"Hello, can you hear me?\". No response. I try again with a loud thump, thump, thump \"Hello!\" I shout.\n\nWhat is happening. I press my ear against the wall and can only hear the slight sounds of tinnitus ringing in my ears. \"Where is everyone?\"\n\n\"Wait...I didn't go to sleep alone. Sarah, Sarah can you hear me?\" No response. This isn't right, where is my wife? It was our day off together, we were going to go on a date. I thought...I thought maybe she just went out for a moment. But then I saw her purse on the nightstand next to the bed.\n\nI let out a soft...terrified sigh. \"I hope she is okay.\"\n\nI go back to the thread and see a the top comment has been edited again.\n\nEdit 3: Guys, I'm going to signal for help. I am cranking up my speakers to max and I am going to blare music until someone comes to help me. \n\nEdit 4: I blared music for 10 minutes and then I waited with my ear pressed against the wall. I could hear a faint whisper. But I couldn't make it out. \n\nEdit 5: I kept pounding on the door, the whispers grew much louder, they are shouting now. Guys...Guys I am freaking out. I put headphones on to drown them out, but they are so loud.\n\nGetting visibly scared I quickly comment on his reply, \"What are they saying to you?\"\n\nNo reply...I waited for an hour (and two more cups of coffee).\n\nStill, nothing. At this point his comment now has thousands of replies trying to get him to talk. \n\nI look at his post history and find his last comment, \"Stay quiet...You don't want them to find you. I can hear them scratching at the walls. They managed to break a window. Their unable to come inside...But They are just pilling up...Waiting. I don't know maybe they need an invite to come in?\"\n\n\nFrightened I go back to the wall and press my ear against it. I can hear a faint whisper, just audible enough to make out. \n\n\nWake up, Sam", "\"Australian here. My doors won't budge, and none of my windows will close! I can get in and out of my house just fine through the window. My car doors wont open either, but again, through the window, I can enter and it drives fine.\"", "Virgil stood panting in the entryway of his home, holding a large ax, staring at his front door now riddled with large gashes. The doorknob laid severed on the ground, and light peaked in through the fogged glass windows of the door.\n\n\"You saw what they were saying on the thread, this won't work!\" Alyssa screamed at Virgil, keeping a safe distance from him. \"Just stop!\"\n\n\"I will not let us starve in here,\" Virgil said in between labored exhales. He eyed the door, looking for some sort of weakness. It had only been a week and a half since The Lockdown, as redditors had began to call it, started. At first it had seemed fun, almost like being snowed in, not having to go to work or anything, but cabin fever and hunger were quickly engulfing Virgil's mind. I have to get out of here.\n\nVirgil raised the ax for another slash at the door, and charged at it, yelling with all of the voice he had left. \n\nA knock came from the door.\n\nVirgil froze. \n\nIt was a casual knock, like a delivery man dropping off a package. \n\nVirgil slowly lowered the ax and began creeping towards the door, one step at a time, glancing questioningly, almost fearfully, at Alyssa as he moved. Alyssa's expression turned into terror as Virgil delicately placed his ear to the door.\n\nHow could anybody be outside? Had the cabin fever set in, making him hallucinate? No, Alyssa heard it too. She did... didn't? she? \n\nAfter about 30 seconds of holding his breath, listening, Virgil peeled his ear off the door, backing away one or two paces. \"Who's out there?' he shouted. \n\nThree knocks responded, in a steady, rhythmic beat. Knock... Knock... Knock... \n\nVirgil backed up at a quickened pace with panicked breathing. \"Get downstairs,\" he said urgently to Alyssa while still staring unblinking at the door. \"Check the thread.\" As Alyssa ran down the stairwell in the entryway, Virgil eased his way toward it, never turning his back to the door, as if the door were some wild animal. Once he reached the stairwell, he bolted down it. \n\n\"What was that?' Alyssa said, rushing towards their desktop PC. \"Just check the thread,\" Virgil said as she logged on to reddit. \"Someone oughtta know.\" Virgil kept nervously glancing at the stairwell, paranoid that something was going to descend from them. \"Who knows, maybe it's some sort of rescue team,\" he said, trying to calm any fear she had, and to soothe his own paranoia. \n\nAlyssa turned her head and squinted at Virgil, confused, but she dismissed it with a shake of her head and continued to type furiously. The front page of reddit was nothing but threads about The Lockdown, which had become normal over the days, with everyone trying to solve the mystery. \"It's a miracle the internet and electricity haven't given out yet,\" Alyssa said as she navigated to the megathread on The Lockdown subreddit. \n\nShe began scrolling through the thread with Virgil looking over her shoulder, both skimming the comments. Most were general discussion about attempts to break through to the outside, or futile pleas for help as people's food stocks ran out, but as they read the most recent comments they found what they were seeking. \n\nOne comment read: \"Did anybody else just hear someone yell 'help' from outside their door? I feel like I'm losing my mind.\" \n\nA reply to that comment read \"I heard something that sounded like tiny legs crawling everywhere.\" \n\n\"I heard some weird whispers, wtf,\" another reply said. \n\nAll of the replies reported hearing a different sound. Virgil and Alyssa looked at each other with confused expressions. \"You heard the knocks... right?' Virgil said. \n\n\"No,\" she replied. \"It sounded like chirping.\" They looked at each other in disbelief. \n\nThe lights and computer screen went out. \n\nKnocks began to resonate on all of the windows and doors, increasing in number and volume in some sort of twisted crescendo. Alyssa covered her ears. \"It's the chirping again! Make it stop!\" \n\n\"Chirping... don't you hate birds?' Virgil said in vain, as Alyssa tried to drown out any sound coming into her ears. \n\nThe knocks grew louder still.\n\nMake it stop, make it stop, Virgil thought cupping his ears with his hands. The knocks' intensity never peaked, piercing Virgil's ears.\n\nVirgil blacked out.\n\n\n(First time posting a story in this place. Hope you guys enjoy!)\n", "The top comment is blank. I scroll down, but it only takes about a half-turn of my mousewheel to get to the bottom of the page. Every one of the top 200 comments is a blank post. It's only then I can let myself recognize the fact, that all these posts, have the same four-letter username. Actually, they all have the exact same line of text, under their single blank line;", "The doors are stuck. There is no light. Where there where houses before, no there is only mine. I have done everything to get out...but no more. I am alone, and I cannot take it anymore. I lay in the dark, scrolling through Reddit one last time. I want to check and see, maybe someone figured it out. But no. There are no new comments...I'm alone and I have decided to escape the only way I can. I turn my music on, and lay in my bed, reaching for the pills I put as many as I can swallow in my mouth and take a drink. I do this three more times and then I wait. \n Laying there, feeling the pills start to drain my life, I suddenly hear a noise. Struggling I lift my head, and a face swims into view in front of me. I gasp and my eyes widen, it's harder to stay awake but I fight with all my strength. More faces come to view and I can hear them now. \"Where did she get the pills dammit?!\" \"I don't know, she has been acting out for days, clawing the windows and doors, screaming and crying out\" \"well go get the doctor now!\" \nI feel myself beginning to slip away as my mind try's to grasp what is happening, I can feel their hands on my, fighting for my life with machines, pumping my stomach. But I know it is too late...as I leave the world my last thought is one of peace, at least I will not be alone anymore.\nWhen my eyes open, I am in my house, the doors and windows have been stuck for days, but it's ok, I know what I have to do....I don't want to be alone anymore.", "\"Yeah, like it would stop me. PVC panes and styrofoam. But let's not waste the door just yet. I'll call my landlord.\"\n\nI dial the number. \"Yo, Dreamer [we're on nickname basis], could you get a spare key and let me out? Seems the lock is jammed.\"\n\n\"Okay, be right there!\"\n\nI sit on my bed. A minute later the phone rings. It's him. \"Funny, my lock is stuck too.\"\n\n\"Okay, I can get out but the door will need to be fixed afterwards.\"\n\n\"Sure thing, it's not like we have much choice. The door is crap anyway, it was long due to be replaced. Could you check my door when you're out? Maybe some asshole poured glue into the locks everywhere?\"\n\nThe panes take a couple kicks and in seconds I have a sizable hole in the door. I walk to the landlord through the empty staircase, crouch by his door. The lock seems to be okay. I knock. No reply, silence. I press the door handle. Won't budge.\n\n\"Hey,\" I shout through the door. \"You there?\" I knock a few times.\n\nMy phone rings. Him again. \"Did you get out?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm standing in front of your door, didn't you hear my knocking and shouting?\"\n\n\"Not a peep. Wait...\" I hear loud thuds over the phone. \"Did you hear that?\"\n\n\"What did you hit? Where are you? I just heard it over the phone!\"\n\n\"I was hitting my door!\"\n\nI hit the door with my fist. \"Beating on your door.\"\n\n\"Shit. It's not funny.\"\n\nI start double checking if I'm at the right door. No way, it can't be any different.\n\n\"Wait, hold on, somebody's calling me\", he says, then he hangs up.\n\nI wait a minute. Ringtone.\n\n\"shit, something's fucked up a lot. Pat called me, saying that she can't get out. From our apartment. Right here, this one. She's not here. She says she's standing right in front of the door. Right where I am standing. We did a test, checked the wardrobe, telling each other what we see. Everything matches except of things we do. Like, I open the bathroom door, she says the bathroom door is closed. What now?\"\n\nSudden thud, explosion, loud distant noise.\n\n\"Did you hear that?\"\n\n\"I saw that! An airplane just crashed into a building a couple blocks away!\"\n\n\"Shit, shit, shit.\"\n\n\"One good thing, probably there was nobody on board...\"\n\n\"No shit. Wait, I got a text. Call you in a moment.\"\n\nI turned back to my flat with ruined door. The phone rang. Dreamer again.\n\n\"Just got a text from Raki. Go to Reddit, open the thread about locked door if you want to live. There's a bunch of advice how to get out if one is locked out, and then you'll have a bunch of nuclear power plants all over the world to shut down before they melt down on their own. People are pooling all they know about stuff that can go wrong, everyone's in an individual universe, every single person must save their own world by themselves.\"", "Woke up to my phones alarm. Time to start the day and like any other day, I had to take a leak. I stretched the sleep out of my bones as I got up from my temperpedic mattress. \n\nI reached for the handle and it wouldn't twist.\n\n\"What the hell, Susan?!\"\n\nI can't unlock it.\n\n\"Honey! This isn't funny! Is this about last night?\"\n\nI keep trying to open the door, but nothing. My bladder begins to swell and cause me pain as my urge to pee grows with it. I start slamming my body up against the door, but it doesn't even budge! \n\nThat's when the shouting started. Strange men yelling from the other side of my door. With it also came the banging. Metal on metal. \n\nThen it was one voice, loud and clear. I was being lifted up from the collar up my sleep scrubs.\n\n\"Smith, get the fuck out of bed! You're late for roll call and we don't take kindly to that here in this fine prison!\nYou'll learn that pretty quick fish.\" ", "The mouse idea didn't work. I knew it was another troll, but I can't just sit here doing nothing, can I... Can I? No, no, I have to keep trying before I run out of air. I mean logically it makes no sense, putting the mouse inside my anus has no possible relation to the phenomena effecting my doors and windows, but none of this makes sense. It's not a sudden increase in humidity causing wood to swell, my windows are PVC. It can't be coincidence, r/theydidthemath calculated it as a statistical impossibility...\n \nSomeone will work it out soon, just keep refreshing...\n\n(12 new comments) \n'Donald trump is behind it' \nNo, that doesn't sound right. Downvote. \n'PLEASE HELP ME I'M PANICKING' \n\"Yeah, aren't we all buddy\" I say to myself, shaking my head despairingly. \n'Beeswax is good for preventing jams' \nAnother person ignorant of his own fate, trying to be helpful. \nJust more of the same. No answers.\n\nI shuffle on my seat, trying to sooth the dull ache. \"Too many fucking trolls nowadays....\" \n \nAh shit I clicked out of the thread, where is it again.... click TOP again that'll find it.... no can't see it, where is it? Oh wait, there it is, halfway down the page now, underneath some thread about how North America would look on Jupiter.... yeah I bet that'd be dwarfed, Jupiter's massive.... \nYeah thought so! Quickly check the comments, make sure they didn't post a misleading picture beofre I bank that in my memory...\n>Can you imagine living if the earth was the size of Jupiter? Just travelling to the other side would take months with current technology. \n \nThe conversation that follows spans the intricacies of Boeing 747s, the current state of technology today and the quantum mechanics behind gravitational forces. Most people concur that the atmosphere would be too devoid of oxyge.... oh shit SHIT SHIT I just wasted half an hour while I burn through the remaining air in this room! I have to get out, quick.... \n\n Where's that thread gone... \n\n\nAh there it is, near the bottom of the 'top threads' page now. I expect that means everyone's found a way out! No harm in reading just one other thread first then...\n\n\n \n\n\n\n\n\n \n\n\n", "I tried everything but the doors won't open. The room is dimly lighted. The hazy shine of my laptop's screen provides for more brightness in the room than the bulb itself. I continue reading the comments on this thread. Not a single comment is related to the topic. One of them says ...\n\n'Don't worry, we are there for you'\n\nAnd some says 'I've brought your favourite cake'\n\nAnd many more comments like this saying they are there for the OP. I hardly saw this much sympathy on Reddit. But none of them says how the fuck should I get out of this cage. Wait a minute, is there somebody else imprisoned like me?\n\nIt's been a while for me living in this house alone. I don't even remember how I got here. The last thing I remember before I came here is a hazy memory of a car ride. The room is getting dark. And I have stopped counting days. Roughly it would be more than a week, maybe. The windows of this house is dark. There is no way I can know what's happening outside.\n\nI then again stuck my eyes on the screen. Now I was reading the usernames in the thread. OP's name was caterpillar. I remember how my mom used to call me a caterpillar when I was small. Then looking at the other usernames in comment section, I felt like I know these names. God knows what they are.\n\nI don't remember when did I had a meal. I don't feel hungry. I don't feel my energy getting wasted even when I stroll for hours here and there in the house. I don't even remember when did I slept in these days.\n\nIt's been around 2 months that I noticed any change. Today I saw a crack in the door. An extremely white light was glowing outside. I felt like the insect getting attracted towards that light. I saw the comments are now coming at a faster rate. People commenting really sorrowful things. As I move forward towards the door, the crack widens and more of that brilliant white light pours inside. I wonder what could be outside so bright. And suddenly there was no door. And it was all white light and it feels orgasmically satisfying to enter into it.\n\n................\n\nIn a hospital, many people are waiting eagerly outside the ICU ward. Some are crying, some are marching right and left in front of the Ward's door. After a long wait the doctor comes out and says \"I am sorry\". People burst into tears. Doctor hands the medical report.\n\nOne day later a local newspaper reads \"The boy from the dreadful car accident died yesterday after 2 and half months in coma.\"", "I used to like my room. It seemed like a bubble. Whenever there was stress, or worries, or anything else I would simply shut the door and pretend nothing existed outside of these 4 walls. \n\nThe first time I noticed something was wrong was when I went to go get my tortoise some lettuce for dinner. My door wouldn't open. After a couple of minutes of jiggling the knob I decided to call out to my parents. There was no reply. \n\nI decided that they must have gone out and that the best course of action was simply to wait, so wait I did. After about 2 hours I got bored and decided to log into reddit. That's when I saw the thread.\n\nIt turns out I wasn't alone. Hundreds of thousands of people were saying they had the exact same problem. Doors, windows, screens, skylights, even one guy's garage door, all stuck. \n\nThe biggest fear for most people was dying of starvation. We tried to talk sense into them, we tried to get them to hold out hope for a little longer, telling them that help may be hours or even minutes away. For most it was pointless. Thousands said there goodbyes to friends they had never met and then logged out for the last time.\n\nFunny thing is, after that we learned that we dont need to eat anymore. The shouts of joy in the thread after that was discovered rival that of lottery winners. Understandable considering we had all just found out we won't slowly wither away.\n\nThe outside world discovered us after a few days. Seeing all of my neighbors and reporters looking into our windows was pretty weird but eventually they stopped coming. \n\nAccording to news reports from their point of view our windows are pitch black. We can see them, they cant see us.\n\nThat was what caused the second wave of deaths. Fathers, mothers, children, all frantically waving trying to get the attention of others. Seeing their spouses visit the window and cry every afternoon, remarry, move on, grow old and die. Some just couldn't take it.\n\nAccording to reports there was about 1.5 million of us locked in when this first began. We believe that after the first 2 waves of suicides we're down to about 1.2 million.\n\nSince then we've watched helplessly as the world around us went to hell. Droughts, wars, plagues, it seems almost like it was a blessing to be locked in like this.\n\nThe worst part is that with so many years alone together we have discovered some pretty amazing things. Turns out that you can get pretty smart with 70 years and nothing better to do. We've discovered ways to make lightbulbs burn brighter, computers run thousands of times faster than before, we can make soiled water as fresh as a brand new bottle. A group of physicists even swear they have discovered a method of producing energy using cold fusion and quantum tunneling. \n\nAll of these amazing feats go unimplemented. We scream them from our rooms, solutions to the world's problems trapped behind a pane of glass. If we could simply get these out we could fix everything wrong with the world. We could turn back the clock and make dying forests green again, we could push back the rising water line, clean the atmosphere and ensure a future for every man, woman, and child out there.\n\nAlas, we can't. I don't really regret being stuck in here. I've learned so much and made so many new friends. If I got a chance I would do it all over again just to do more. As with all things however, this too must come to an end. I've spent the last few years transcribing all of our findings on every surface in my room in as many languages as I can. In this text you will find answers to all problems imaginable. I don't know when or if this note will ever be found but when it is just promise you will tell the rest of the world about us. Don't forget us, any of us. \n\n\n-Sean G.\n \n\nBorn 5/3/1997\n\nDied 8/12/2094\n\n\n\n", "\"44634 upvotes? What could possibly be this deserving in Askreddit?\" The whole scenario took me by surprise and upon opening the thread I was damn certain it was just another legendary Reddit day that would be talked about for a few months. But the comments seemed so.. Genuine. \n\"Ok, I am really starting to freak out, why the fuck can't I get out of my room?\" ___deadpool___ was writing comments and replying to almost every suggestion I could see in the thread. \nI stood up and walked over to my wooden door covered in white pain and took the brass handle in my hand. Something about the thread I was reading through made me feel so uneasy and I just couldn't shake it until I knew that my door was open and I had a way out. \nI twisted my hand to turn the handle but it stayed in place. I tried harder a second time but the damn thing was not budging, as though frozen in time. \n\"What the fuck?\" I muttered under my breath as I began to use more strength from both my arms this time but again the door appeared unmovable. \nA cold sweat began to sink in as the comments I had just read repeated through my head. Suddenly this thread that I took so lightly became very real to me and i darted towards the window to confirm my fears. The moon shined through from the dark sky, I had never felt so far from it as I had when i began pounding on the window for help and desperately fighting with its own brass handle. This window was not about to move either. \nThis had to be a local event, surely it must be relates with the recent cold weather we were hit by? Reddit seemed to have more knowledge and experience with this phenomenon than I did, it was a beacon of hope that I sorely needed as claustrophobia began to set in. \nLebanon, Bruges, London, New York, even fucking outback Australia was being effected by this bizarre affair. None of it made any sense to me. \n\"Listen everyone, there HAS to be something that connects us, something we are missing. I want everyone to post details about themselves - jobs, locations, names, age, everything! There must be a link, this can't be random\". The comment was flooded with replies of people eagerly sharing their full personal information and life stories, far more information than anyone should ever share on the internet. \n\"I'm Adam, I live in Manchester UK, I am a chef, I like video games. Wtf am I supposed to say? I got a vaccination last week for a holiday coming up? I ate nandos last night? My mothers name is Julia? What could you possibly need to know?\" \n\"Well I got a shot last week too, so there is that I guess\". \nThe replies began to rack up. \n\"Omg. So did I. For Malaria right?\" \n\"Was that a Malaria jab?\" \n\"No fucking way did we all get the same jab\". \nThe results were undeniable and my heart began to pound. A burning sensation began to take over my deltoid muscle as the clear realisation hit me that I too had a Malaria Vaccination last week. A drop of cold sweat ran down the back of my neck and I suddenly began to feel very faint as I started to realise just how very real this scenario was. The worst part was knowing that it wasn't some mistake, I had gotten that jab and I had ended up with the same fate as the rest of them. \n\"FUCK THIS, FUCK ALL OF THIS, I AM GETTING MY SWORD OFF THE WALL AND I AM CUTTING THROUGH THAT FUCKING DOOR\". ___deadpool___ had lost his cool and I began clicking the refresh button frantically for the next 5 minutes, desperate for news and some glimmer of hope. But what I got instead was something much worse. \n___deadpool___ had given us his update... \"Guys, there is a metal wall behind my door. I cut through and just hit pure metal. I ran to the window and called for help and it dawned on me. No one is here. No one is outside. I can't see or hear a single person. It's like someone locked me up and threw away the key\". \nBefore I could even get up to check the repiles had already flooded through... \n\"Holy shit same here\". \n\"Where the fuck is everyone?!\" \n\"How did we miss this? Where are my family? Why is no one in the street?\" \n\"I live in central fucking London. Not a single noise outside. No cars. No people. Just silence\". \nI backed away from my screen, suddenly the artificial light had made me feel extremely nauseas. I unloaded the contents of my stomach into the desk bin on the floor. \nAs I pulled myself together I peered through the window to see the same scenario. Pure silence with not a single soul in sight. \n \n \nIf you guys have enjoyed this then I will write part 2 tomorrow. ", "I woke up to start the day like I would any other, but as soon as I twisted the knob to open the door, I was struck with surprise, the knob wouldn't turn. No matter how hard I tried that door was not going to open. I went to my bedroom window and tried to slide that open to see if anyone was trying to prank me, but it wouldn't budge either. I knew something was wrong, so I did the first thing any sane person would do, check reddit.\n\nThe top post on the front page explained a situation exactly like mine, with over a million comments explaining their situation, all pleaing for help. Some people said they used a gun to try and shoot out the window and the bullet didn't even leave a mark on the glass. Others claimed that they smashed their doors with anything they could find, and it refused to open. I went back to my window and next door I could see people banging at their windows trying to get them open, to no avail. \n\nAfter going back on reddit to see if anyone had found a solution, I read one comment that said: \n\n>\"DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOOR\n\n>I have opened my door to see darkness, but I could see a pair of eyes glowing white, staring at me. As soon as I made eye contact the eyes were getting larger, as if this thing was coming towards me. I shut the door, and all I can hear is soft breathing on the other side, like it is waiting for me to open the door again. I'm going to try and kill this thing, if I don't reply to your comments, assume the worst.\"\n\nAfter reading this I was extremely frightened, but I wanted to know how this redditor managed to open his door. I kept reading reply after reply until finally I saw a comment from OP, it read:\n\n>\"He shouldn't have opened his door. He paid for what he has done, and anyone else to do the same will meet the same fate.\"\n\nI had to close reddit after that. I knew that if I opened that door, I was going to die. I just had to hope it all passed. \n\nAfter a few days of sparing the water that I had, I ran out. I knew I had to make a stand if I was going to survive. I tried everything I could to open that door, and it wouldn't. Finally, I lit it on fire, and it was actually burning away. The first thing I saw when the other side was revealed was darkness, and then I saw it. I saw two eyes glowing in the distance. I met my eyes with theirs, and they grew and grew. I stared it down as it came, and when it was about to hit me, I closed my eyes.\n\nI woke up staring at my ceiling like any other day. I shrugged off that experience as if it was a dream. I got up to take a shower, but the doorknob wouldn't turn.\n\nEDIT: better formatting\n\n", "Ice crystals had formed overnight on my bed stand. My laptop was open beside me, and it too was crystallized- covered in jewels of ice and with frost on the screen, which was odd because it was still on and quite warm. The CPU fan hummed softly, and through the frost I could see the Reddit tab open in the browser. The furnace was on in the basement -I could hear it- and there was warm air blowing from a vent on the floor. I sat up in bed, shaking ice off of my comforter. I was surrounded by winter, mind you it was August, and even the cat, Kiki, took notice. She looked comfortable but a little perplexed, and licked at an icicle hanging from the back of a chair. I got up and put my feet on the floor expecting a sting of cold, but the oak floorboards felt almost warm, as if my Grandfather had hewn them this morning. All the furniture in the living room was dusted with ice, and icicles hung from rafters. This was absolutely incredible, and I in no way believed it.\n\nI've always had extremely vivid dreams, and this was likely no different. Though, usually the moment I became lucid I would pop awake- but I remained here, in my frozen home. I did not wake up. I went to the door and tried to open it. It appeared frozen shut. The knob was cold- maybe the first thing that I had touched which seemed so, and it would not budge. I went next the windows which all proved the same.\nAfter a few other tries at escape, I picked up my phone and swiped left to dial my brother, who lived across town. He didn't pick up. I tried a few friends- no one picked up. I dialed 911 which rang and rang. \"What the fuck?\" I said aloud.\n\nThen, noticing the wifi symbol in the top-left corner of my phone's screen, realized I still had an internet connection. I rushed back to my bedroom and sat down at the laptop. I had to brush away the frost to see the screen fully, and went straight to Google. My first news search yielded nothing. No results out of the ordinary. Back to Reddit.\n\nTo my amazement, at the top of the front page, was a link which read: \"Is anyone else stuck inside today?\" I clicked- and saw thousands and thousands of comments, all to the same effect. Nobody could get in touch with anyone except on Reddit. Even people in the hottest climates on Earth described ice and even snow in their homes, though they were sweltering hot just as they usually were this time of year.\n\"This ice doesn't melt\" said one man in the Australian outback, who lived in his camper van and he too was trapped.\n\nI sent messages to a few Redditors I knew, to check in with them, and they all shared the same experience. One of these was my neighbor. We practically shared a wall, and I'd learned he was a Redditor a few months before, while we were in line at Pat's Sandwiches. We decided to see if we could hear each other shouting or banging on anything. Two hours later, we both checked back in to confess that our voices were growing hoarse and we'd heard nothing.\n\nI found myself crumpled in a corner, sobbing. My hot tears steamed in this strange and not at all cold air. I begged the silence for an explanation as to what was happening. None came. I looked down at my phone and noticed a new comment- someone made a Disney joke.\n\n\"Well, guys\" he said. \"I guess we should just Let it Go.\" I brightened a little. At least I still had Reddit.\n", "Sam cried. The thread would barely load at this point. 8 hours after he first tried his door and windows his sense of place in the world was shaken to its core.\n\nHe hadn't tried breaking his windows yet. u/TheBaddestDongbeast69 reported her husband broke their slider and tried to leave the house but he got stuck halfway and everything she said after that was gibberish. \n\nSam had tried calling 911 on his phone, the operator picked up the line and just starting looping \"hello 911 what is your emer- hello 911 what is your emer-\" over and over. He turned on the TV. CNN was reporting on that missing girl from Alabama again. MSNBC was talking about the upcoming debate. \n\nWas this real? Everything was wrong, this can't be happening, was he dreaming? Was this lucid dreaming that he had read about? It sure felt real when he about pissed himself. Amanda- what is happening with Amanda? Why wouldn't she respond to any texts or calls? \n\nHis stomach growled. How could he be hungry at a time like this? It was chaos outside. The neighbors two houses down appeared to be trying to crash their car into their living room. Some were just walking in circles. He couldn't watch anymore, the panic was building again. \n\nThere was a flash of light. Or was it a flash of black? Suddenly he felt weightless and frozen in space. He saw his living room flicker. Text. Text? Is he really seeing this? It looks like a dialog box. Suddenly a voice spoke out. \n\n\"EARTH 2000 Jane's MOD XXX EPIC AI qubits965. Patch notes 235819.56. Material interaction glitch. Pathing error and door code portal transfers. \n\nDamnit Carl this is why you don't let the intern commit stack changes. We haven't had an error this big since the gravity lapse in 324.67 resulting in the Dino reset. We'll need all players to logout and return to server selection screen. My mic is what? Oh shi...\"\n\nHe ran to the window and started smashing it with the lamp. He froze. \n\nERROR. Your session will be logged out in 30 seconds appeared in the sky. Celia the redhead from next door disappeared in thin air. Why did this seem so wrong? 20 seconds. His past flashed before his eyes, it didn't take log. Why couldn't he remember anything about high school? 10 seconds. Amanda.. Amanda.. Who was Amanda? He couldn't even see her face. 5.. 4.. Oh 3.. My 2.. God. He suddenly knew. He was an NPC. 1.. \n\n\n\n", "I thought it odd enough that the most upvoted thread on redddit decribed my exact predicament, but when they took the unprecedented move to kill all other threads and make it the only thread only reddit, dedicating the community to solving this singular problem, I knew, then, that this was no hoax. I tried searching the internet for more information, but it was as if the whole of the internet was reddit. Every address, every site, all redirected to this singular source of information. And every comment, though worded differently, really only said one thing: People were worried, scared.\n\nI'd tried everything I could think of. Smashed furniture against the doors and windows. Kicked, screamed. Beat against the windows, walls, and doors until I collapsed from exhaustion. I once even tried clawing up the floor. Nothing. Not so much as a dent, crack or scratch for my efforts.\nOutside my window, the world was in constant twilight. I lost any sense of time.\nHow long had I been here? Days? Weeks?\nI'd tried many times to reply to The Thread but, for some reason, none of my comments would post.\nThen, the PMs started.\n\"Are we getting through?\"\n\"Are you in there, somewhere?\"\n\"Please, let us know!\"\nI tried replying, but it was as if my connection to the rest of the world was only one -way.\n\"Somehow, I know you are there. I miss you. Please, give us a sign.\"\n...\n\"It's been months. If something doesn't change soon, they're going to pull the plug. If you're there, you need to let us know.\"\n", "\"Have you tried tackling it?\" One of the users had replied to a thread posted just hours ago. The post was asking suggestions about how to open his door, which was completely stuck and left him trapped in his room. A problem many others in there had. A problem I had too.\n\nThis strange phenomenon didn't only apply to the door, my window next to the bed was also stuck, as well as the windows of the other people.\n\n\"Is this the Prank a redditor's day?\" One of them jokingly suggested. \n\nI stood up from my chair, and knocked the door. \"Ok, very funny, can you let me out?\" I said, trying my chances. Seeing as no one replied, I told them I would break the window and piss from the second floor to the garden, see if they like that...\n\nThere was no response.\n\n\"Guys...\" Said another comment \"Is everyone alone in their room?\"\n\n\"I share a room with a roomie, but he's not here, I thought he could have done this to me\"\n\n\"Well, at least it isn't dark outside, now that would freak the fuck out of me\"\n\n\"...It's pitch black outside of my window...then again, I'm in Australia right now\"\n\nMost of the comments were jokes about the situation, the few others that sincerely wanted to get out of their room began to piece some clues together, and the results didn't gave much hope. \n\nOne of the redditors commented he looked outside of his window, he lived in a particularly crowded area, and yet could not see a single person on the street. Some of them confirmed the same situation. I didn't want to look outside.\n\n\"Has anyone tried calling 911?\" I wrote, refreshing the page several times until I got an answer. Someone replied saying he had called a few minutes ago, but the line was on hold. \n\n\"So, I tried turning on the tv to see if there was something in the news, it looks like everyone is fine...\" wrote someone else.\n\n\"What the hell?\" Another person replied \"There's this event in the tv in central park, there's a lot of people gathered there, but that's bullshit, I live near central park, the place is empty!\"\n\n\"Same thing! There are bands and music and whatnot, but I don't see nor hear anything...\"\n\n\"Ok, how strong is a fucking wood door? I have been hitting it with a camping axe I bought a la shining but It doesn't seem to make even a scratch...\"\n\n\"Baseball bat won't do anything to my window too...\"\n\nAn hour passed, the jokes started to diminish, there was a concerned feeling among the people. Some argued It was still a joke. Others thought it was a dream, probably having to do with being in reddit all day, without getting out of the house. I didn't know what to think. \n\nI looked at my surroundings, there was not a single object I could use to try and break neither door nor window. The sun came through the glass. I took a deep breath and looked through it. \n\nThe day was bright, the sky was clear; but everything was empty. Nor a single person nor animal. Not a single sound or noise.\n\nI returned to the computer, refreshed the page. The top comment had changed.\n\n\"Guys, fuck fuck fuck\" He wrote. \"I set the door on fire, and hit the wood near the handle with the axe, It worked. But guys, as soon as the door opened I saw something. It was on the other side of the hallway, and It crawled toward me. I burned my hand closing the door again and moved the bed to block it. The fire is still on, I hear that thing tackling the door, guys DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR\"\n\nThe others began asking what was happening, I continued refreshing the page, hoping for an answer. One minute, two minutes, five minutes...\n\nHe never replied.", "It's been 3 weeks now since the epic thread on Reddit has ballooned to be the biggest source of information on the whole internet. Since we woke up and found that we could not leave our houses, the whole telecommunication world has been crippled. Phones will barely work and communication is at a minimum. Even getting to web pages take ages to load. \n\nAccording to media sites, the death toll is already very high as most people did not have enough food in their houses to sustain them for a long period of time. Lucky for me, I have been preparing for the worst my entire life. I have around 3 months of food and water stored, but I know it won't last me for much longer.\n\nFor some reason even the glass has become seemingly bullet proof. We have tried hitting it with anything we can find, and even tried shooting it once (the bullet ricocheted around the apartment and we don't want to try that again). \n\nThe worst is the nights. Since people can't leave, the power has been slowly fading as the people that were already at the power plants have been stuck working nonstop, taking mini shifts but still not able to keep awake enough to do a good job.\n\nSometimes the power goes out and everything becomes very dark. I keep hearing scratching outside my doors and windows, so I know something is out there, and it doesn't sound very human. Hopefully the stuck doors keep whatever is out there where it is. \n\nI have read some stories about people successfully escaping from their house, but soon after, never to be heard from again. Hopefully someone can figure out what is actually happening soon, I don't know how much longer I can take being cooped up.\n\nthis is my first time writing a story, I hope you guys like it" ]	[ 1, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10, 17, 21, 24, 46, 52, 60, 71, 99, 334, 520, 896, 1975 ]	[ "1454285126", "1454293691", "1454294132", "1454301725", "1454278896", "1454283639", "1454299891", "1454276718", "1454281854", "1454286023", "1454281287", "1454266412", "1454274985", "1454264896", "1454272251", "1454277351", "1454263646", "1454264969", "1454264448", "1454273578", "1454278335", "1454266353", "1454262208", "1454257595", "1454260915", "1454248187", "1454245300" ]
	[wp] The Genie offers you your three wishes. You only need one.	5	[ "After searching for what seemed like forever i finally found the genie. At last my only wish would be fulfilled. Or so i hoped. My ocean like eyes sparked up with light as i looked into my petite pale hands that held a lime glowing orb.\n\nIt's been forever since i wished for something this badly, since i wished for the same wish day by day. It's always been one wish one day and another the next but the last 3 years of my life have been the same. Him.\n\nI stood out in the summer breeze, my short ginger hair spiked up. My favorite maroon coloured hoodie, dark blue jeans and converses on. Closing my eyes slowly as a small smirk forced on my freckled face. The memories flooding back all over again.\n\nThe sweet times, the bitterness, the falls, the tries and lastly the fights. Difficult times that meant everything. Nobody mattered more than him. \"Rick, why did you do this?\" i whimpered as i stood there. A small tear rolling off my cheek soaking into my hoodie while others followed. \"You meant everything to me, you knew that. I knew that, everyone knew that\" i continued as my hands clenched taking hold of the lime orb in my hands.\n\nMy own selfish greed consuming my heart. \"I'd give anything, i'd do anything to have you back. To hear a word, to know even a bit of your new life.\" Temptation taking a hold of me. \"I don't know if you'd want this but i want this, Rick\" I called out softly as more tears began flowing from my eyes.\n\nI rubbed the orb when suddenly lime smoke started forming around it. Before i could even see thought my teary eyes a genie appeared before me. \"You're here to have your three wishes aren't you?\" a strange voice called out to me. Nodding quietly before calling out \"only one wish. He's the only person i need\" the genie looked at me a slightly opened mouth.\n\n\"What's your wish then, young boy?\" i heard the genie say before i called out emotionally \"for Rick to contact me again.\" I dropped the orb as i moved my hands to cover my teary face. \"Is that really what you want your wish to be?\"\n\n\"Definetly, he's always been my everything. The light, the storm, the anger, the sadness and yet always my smile. Nobody else.. No nothing else matters that much to me and nothing ever will!\" I called out. The genie looked down at the ground before i heard my ringtone going off.\n\nQuickly reaching for my phone and picking it up as the lime smoke vanished. Looking down at the called id... unknown? I pick up the phone instantly.\n\n\"Hello?!\" i almost yell into my phone awaiting a reply. \"Hey Simon.. it's been a while hasn't it?\" the sadness escapes my body as i smile \"yeah it has\" i barely manage to say. \"Have you been crying Simon? I'm sorry for leaving you like that. Maybe lets go out for a coffee sometime if you want?\"\n\n\"Yeah that be nice\"", "\"Hey hey hey my man, what'll it be? Three wishes for you today, only catch is it's kaputs on wishing for more wishes. Just the uno dos tres, no more no less. Kapeesh?\"\n\nHis blue form bubbled out of the lamp, smoke twisting sinuously around me, forming into a hand to pay my back, and a face with eyebrows wiggling. \n\n\"All I ask is that with your last wish, you set me free from the lamp!\"\n\n\"You're a prisoner here?\" \n\n\"That's right!\" The genie boomed, swelling to an towering size and leaving me quaking in my boots. \"Enormous cosmic powers!\" He thundered, and just as quickly shrunk down to the size of my finger. \"Itty bitty living space. It's part and parcel of the whole genie gig, kid.\"\n\n\"I... how long have you been trapped in there?\"\n\n\"It's, let me see,\" he checked an imaginary watch. \"About one thousand years to the day!\"\n\n\"Don't you get bored in there? Lonely?\"\n\nHis expressive face fell, and I felt a tightness in my throat. \"Well, kid... I suppose I do. It's been a long time since anyone came along, and to tell the truth, the last one left me in here without setting me free. That hurts, you know?\"\n\nI gulped and picked up the lamp once more. \n\n\"I'm ready to make my wish,\"\n\nWith a sigh, the genie morphed into the form of a waiter at a high class restaurant. \"Your first wish, you mean, coming right up! What'll it be?\"\n\n\"I only need one. I wish you were free.\"\n\n\"Right-o, I'll take care of - wait, what? I- why?\"\n\nWith a great crackling sound, the lamp crumbled into dust. I smiled and held out my hand. \"I could have wished for you to be my friend, but that's not the kind of thing you need magic for, is it?\"\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"I suppose not.\"\n\nHis happy gasp when he saw the stars again that night was magic enough for me. ", "\"I wish the voices in my head would stop talking to me,\" I said, scrunching up my face in earnest hope. \n\nThe shimmering glittering figure of the genie vanished. So did the voices." ]	[ 2, 4, 10 ]	[ "1454351452", "1454349099", "1454350428" ]

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